#that was an inside joke between the two of us and bc he literally had NEVER posted on his story before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

readychilledwine · 5 months

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another fic idea for you, my queen, if you would like to write it into existence. instead of thesan publicly having a male lover, he has a peregryn female who is his “beard”. like he tells everyone she’s his lover when he definitely doesn’t swing that way. let’s pretend everyone believes him 🫢 and their agreement is actually a bargain that she can’t break with the stipulation being that the bargain is fulfilled once she finds her mate. her bargain tattoo is super visible like up her neck (or on her face, but like tastefully of course) during the high lord meeting, azriel has a love at first sight moment (he’s obsessed but the mating bond hasn’t snapped) and he is once again thwarted by Rhys who tells him to stay away to prevent war with dawn court. azriel still secretly meets with the peregryn who 100% returns his affections bc she’s not ACTUALLY with thesan. but then they’re somehow caught red handed. shit hits the fan because keeping up with appearances, thesan is literally about to throw it down with the night court for stealing his girl. He’s actively beating up azriel (who is letting him bc angst 🤷🏽‍♀️) with the peregryn screaming at him to stop when the bond snaps and her very visible bargain tattoo fades away (dramatically like with gold shimmers or something bc it’s dawn court LOL) and it’s happily ever afters all around. (I hope you don’t mind me sending you these fully fleshed out ideas bc I can’t write worth a damn but I know you would do them justice 🫡)

Love and 1000 other Lies

Summary - Aurora has held her place with pride and joy aince accepting Thesan and Bastian’s idea and becoming their coverup. But a certain shadowsinger seems to have other plans for her and her future

Warnings - implied smut, swearing, threats, mentions of war, time jump transitions, sappy Azriel

A/n- after my final edit and run through, this is just shy of 5.7k words. I fixed some grammar errors, changed out some wording, and turned this into a full on love child. I hope you all enjoy her as much as I enjoyed the long process of writing her, perfecting her, and editing her. I used a new writing method, so I do apologize for weird cuts and flow if there is any 💜

"Ew," Thesan joked quietly as his fake lover went to hold his hand, lacing their fingers together. "You need better hand cream."

She shot him an insulted look, eyes darting between her best friend and his actual lover. "I use the hand cream you two bought me. It's not my fault you didn't drop warrior from my title when you decided on our… arrangement."

Thesan nodded to the guards, he offered his "wife" his arm, holding her a little closer as they entered the room a few high lords had already entered with their parties. To the outside world, it was Thesan and Aurora the High Lord and Lady of Dawn who were very much in love. On the inside they were best friends, and had been forever. Thesan loved her like a sister he had never been blessed with, and she loved him, and his mate, like the brothers she had always wanted.

75 years ago, when they had asked her to publicly marry Thesan to protect him from Amarantha's claws, she had not hesitated to say yes. She had not hesitated when it came to the bargain either. Was she thrilled when morning glories began to appear on her neck, wrapping her ear like the vines they grew from, and appearing on the right side of her face? No. Thesan had not been either, but could they change it? No. Now though, it was just part of her. It was a piece of who was and would be until she found her mate and presented him to Thesan.

He escorted her to her chair, kissing the top of her hand gently before taking his place. His own mate stood behind both of them, keeping the outward appearance as their selected guard. Bastain loved Thesan dearly, and he had been the one to come up with the plan of using Aurora as their cover. He never once was jealous until they were trapped under the mountain, and playing an occasional role became a daily struggle between the three of them. Mainly due to the common room inspections they were forced to endure. Thesan and Ro were forced to take their marriage to levels they had not expected nor wanted. Levels they had promised each other wouldn't be crossed.

The three of them watched each party enter, every High Lord coming to greet the Peregryn female to compliment the beauty of their home and Palace. Aurora smiled at each compliment, thanking them and holding their wife’s or female guest’s hands as she played her role. The gentle home maker, the skilled combat healer, the soft soul who had somehow captured the heart of Pryithian’s most elusive High Lord.

Kal and Viv were particularly taken with the pond that centered the room. The lord of Winter had always wanted to incorporate more of the land into the building Amarantha had destroyed where he formerly hosted meetings and gatherings with outside courts. “I just do not understand how you manage such things,” he turned to Aurora. “Thesan, I may steal your wife for a few weeks. My court could use such talented eyes.”

Aurora smiled at him as they took their seats and she sat back on her own, straightening her dress before putting her hand back on Thesan’s muscled inner forearm.

Bas leaned into his husband's side, "I can't wait to remind her she has the taste of an Illyrian Brute when we are all alone." Thesan covered his mouth, eyes sparkling. “I designed that for you, you harlot. You did do a lovely job with the stone, plant, and fish selection though.”

Aurora whispered back, a soft smile hiding the small and playful pissing contest between her and Bas. ”You realize that is much more important than the design of a stone pool, right? I am literally the one who made it worth looking at.”

“She is not wrong, Bas. She did a lot of the-” Thesan paused. "The Night Court is here."

Aurora rolled her eyes, a headache already starting at the thought of seeing Rhysand again. "Do I really have to be here?"

"Yes," the males both said quietly.

Bas handed her a wine glass over her shoulder. "No one said you cannot drink through this though, my lady." She took the wine happily.

"Thank you, General."

"Of course, my lady." He replied playfully. "Must Rhysand always make everything an ostentatious fashion show?"

Aurora almost spit her wine out, gripping Thesan's hand a little tighter. The High Lord hid his own laughter by clearing his throat. "Composure, 'Rora," he hissed under his breath. "Azriel is extra scrumptious today, though. The Mother took her time on that one."

Bas hummed in agreement. "I heard he plays both sides of the field."

Thesan raised his brows in excitement. His urge to gossip came forward as his eyes began to sparkle. "Oh do tell."

"Later." Thesan noted Azriel's eyes on his "wife" the whole meeting.

It wasn't that he could blame the male, Aurora was stunning, especially for fae standards. Gorgeous silky chocolate hair, plump full lips, a button nose, and beautiful curves that sat on her muscled frame perfectly. Her dress accented her hourglass figure. Had he enjoyed the company of females, he would have courted her, possibly married her for real. It was her mind that intrigued Thesan most. She was intelligent, witty, funny. SHe held herself to high standards and performed at that standard whenever it was asked of her. There was also her selflessness. Her willingness to place a target on her own back to protect him, to protect Bastian, to protect their court. Aurora was as beautiful inside as she was outside, a true sparkling rare gem of his court that he could have used for so much more than a fake marriage.

He placed a hand possessively on her thigh as she focused on her quiet discussion with a kneeled down Bastian. Thesan shot Azriel a look of warning as he caught the shadowsinger staring at her again. "Rhysand, tell your family to keep their eyes off taken females."

Despite the marriage being fake, Thesan knew two things. The first was he had to keep the act of a protective territorial male up. The second was he would never yield her to the hands of the Night Court. He would never yield any of his fae to the Night Court. Not after years of Rhysand’s constant humiliation. His constant attacks. Not after what he had done to the barely healed wings of his wife.

The High Lord of Night knitted his brows together before turning to Azriel and following his gaze to where Bastian and Aurora were whispering Hybern's battle plans Tamlin had just presented. “I apologize, Thesan. She is just as radiant today as rumors and gossip makes her out to be. Forgive Azriel. Please. It is both rare to see a female with wings, and one in such a high position of power among the Illyrians.”

Aurora paused, feeling the room's eyes on her. She made confused eye contact with Viv who simply pointed to the Night Court as she and Kal too had picked up on the stares from the Spymaster. "Did I miss something, love?"

Thesan gently pulled your hand to his. "Nothing, dove. Just a male not keeping his gaze where it belongs." He kissed her hand gently. "Thoughts on those papers?"

Aurora handed them back to Bas with a sigh. "Our air legion would not be enough, nor would the Illyrian Armies. If they truly have those numbers, we will need to work closely with the Night Court and their general. The bigger concern is their Naval fleet. I would have never guessed to have put Hybern in possession of that level of an armada.”

Rhysand spoke. "Which brings us back to the question at hand Lady Dawn. Can we trust Tamlin when Spring has been known to ally with Hybern and he is the reason they are here?"

Aurora spoke without thinking, 50 years of anger lacing her tone. "I did not realize all males were their fathers, Rhysand.” She watched as the sentence struck where she aimed it and his sharp jawline tightened. “Should we worry about you and where you stand as well? Your father only fought with us during the last war because he did not want to lose his place as High Lord had Hybern's last efforts been successful. It seems the offer Hybern made Tamlin would have surely swayed your father. Perhaps it swayed you as well, seeing as your so-called High Lady,” Aurora held up the letters Feyre sent Hybern on “behalf” of Tamlin, “Is the actual reason they invaded a full year ahead of plan.”

Tension in the room rose slightly as the Lord of Night and Lady of Dawn stared each other down. No one sitting in those chairs who had witnessed her torture would soon forget her screams, nor how Rhysand had smiled as he administered it. "Of the High Lords currently present, I've experienced cruelty from two of them. One simply because of my wings,” a pointed look to Autumn had even Beron looking away, refusing to be in the stare of a female he knew could end all trade supply of healing herbs and medicines to his court. “And one because he was evidently so deep into what he wanted us all to believe was an act that all courtesy went out the window." Her gaze went back to Rhys, hard eyes meeting shamed violet ones.

Rhys shifted. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Bas spoke firmly, the timber of his voice almost shaking the room. "You plucked her wings bare. Twice. You do not get to say you never wanted to hurt her when you did. You will not address my lady any further. We will choose to believe Spring until given a real reason not to that isn't some farce of a lovers spat."

Azriel growled at another general commanding his High Lord, and Aurora immediately stood facing him between them. "You've already attacked Eris Vanserra, Shadowsinger, do not test your luck against the Dawn Court in our home. Unlike Autumn, I am more than capable of handing you and finishing what you start. We are warriors too, shadowsinger. Try your best to not forget that.”

Azriel felt his chest tighten, then warmth, and a snap. His eyes went wide before he turned to Rhysand with a panicked expression.

Lady Dawn was his mate.

Azriel paced the room Helion, Cassian, and Rhys all sat watching him in. "What do I do?"

Cassian spoke first with a shrug. "Nothing you truly can do, Azriel. Unless you plan on breaking up a marriage between the High Lord, who may I remind you controls healers, healer apprenticeships, and the flow of healing medicines and tonics, and his wife absolutely hates your high lord and brother."

Rhys nodded gently. "I already pushed that alliance enough without choice, Azriel. We can't risk it. They supply all of our healing houses, they staff our healing houses. All of them are on contract and Thesan could pull the healers home without notice or warning.”

Helion shifted. "So I'm the only one who noticed then?" The three males all looked to him, indicating for him to continue. "Aurora fidgets with her "wedding ring", Helion putsput fake emphasisemphases on the phrase, "when she's nervous. She spins it, slides it off and on. She never wears that rock. Her finger is tanned, and there is no indent indicating she actually wears her wedding ring frequently. It could be because of her status as a second general, but, still, even if she had it off to train for 3 to 4 hours a day, she should still have some sign of it on that pretty hand of hers.”

Helion took a sip of his wine and continued. "That bargain on her also has specific conditions. I have not had the pleasure of being alone with her long enough to read the rune markings, but it is not a life bargain one would normally see between a High Lord and his Lady. I would talk to her, alone, Azriel. I do not think that marriage is all it is cracked out to be.”

Rhysand leaned forward. "The reason Amarantha began to target them was because their room never smelled of sex, but Thesan did. As did Bastain and his room. But never Aurora. Whose room only ever smelled like her. She thought it was…. Odd."

Helion nodded. "That's my point. She's covering for them. We all know Thesan had no interest in females until Amarantha started rearing her ugly ass head around. Then suddenly Thesan and sweet Aurora were married. It is suspicious at the very least, and a lie at the most."

Rhys shook his head, standing to go to bed. "Stay away from her, Azriel. I do not want to have to add War with Dawn on to our family meeting agendas. I also do not want to deal with fighting a war with no healers for our court.”

Azriel could not find sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, heart beating too rapidly with joy and his soul screaming too loudly with excitement. He felt a tug on the bond, and Azriel immediately left the room, following his shadows to where they said Lady Dawn currently was.

He took him a little while to find her in the dark herb garden, and he almost stopped his approach completely when he did. Her long hair was completely down, her feet bare as she stood by the lake in the flowing knot and rope styled dress she was wearing. "Shadowsinger," she greeted calmly as a tendril of dark Mist weaved between her fingers in greeting.

Azriel moved standing next to her. "Lady Dawn."

They stood there in silence, both afraid to break the dam and address what happened in the meeting. Azriel broke the silence first. "Can you feel it?"

Aurora answered honestly. "Only because of my powers. It didn't snap for me yet, and I do not know why."

Azriel stared at the bargain tattoo dancing on her neck and face. "Does it have anything to do with the bargain?" She shrugged at the question. "What exactly is the bargain?"

"I can't tell you." Azriel nodded at the response. His eyes then went down to her hand, noticing the lack of diamonds currently adorning her left ring finger.

"Where are your chambers?"

Aurora rose a brow, a small smirk forming. "Bold."

Azriel nodded. "I've waited over 500 years for you. I will be as bold as I need to be."

He took her shamelessly that night. Noting how she truly did have her own chambers located nowhereno where near Thesan. How her chambers only smelled like her.

He memorized every shiver, every sound, every plea. She had not been touched, truly touched, in years. Azriel hated the thought of it. He hated the idea of her alone in this giant bed. He hated the thought of her being woken up to the sun rising and painting the sky in soft light instead of waking to kisses and worship.

He hated that his bond was being hidden by a lie. He slipped from her room using the shadows and returned to his before the sun fully rose. He held back tears as he washed the scent of her off of his skin, hating every single second of it. He looked away from Rhysand as he asked for help masking what lingered. Not in shame, but so his brother wouldn’t see his hurting, his small amount of guiltguit wracking through him.

Breakfast the next morning was filled with uncomfortable silence. Aurora sat next to Thesan, eating silently as shadows ran her legs and skirts under the table. She had glamored the scent of night mist clinging to her skin softly, the love marks, the small bruises. She smiled as Thesan kissed her hand, trying to pull her from her distracted mind with a look.

Azriel kept his gaze from her. Keeping his focus on his plate and just holding the memories from last night as close to him as possible.

They sought each other out weeks later before the war truly began. Azriel etched the look on her face as they stood in Velaris together ininto his memory. He led her to his cabin, keeping her with him that weekend. He learned she loved to read, to explore and hike, to laugh. He had laughed so hard in those 3 days he was pretty sure his body had discovered unworked muscles. It had taken him those 72 hours to fall for her. He wasn’t sure if it was the bond driving it, or just because they were simply meant to be, but Azriel knew after 72 hours he would never love anyone like this again. And, selfishly, he never wanted to.

She came to him during the war. Seeking him out in the dead of night near their camps, drenched in blood and exhausted. “Azriel,” Aurora set her weapons down, almost collapsing at his feet as sobs shook her to the core. His mate. His gentle mate. A 2nd general of a large legion of warriors, breaking down as he moved to her instantly.

He held her close, stroking her matted hair as she clung to his leathers. “It's okay,” he soothed her, wishing that bond had snapped in those stolen moments alone so he could send her everything he was feeling, every trapped word. Azriel snuck her into this tent that night, keeping her close after bathing the blood, dirt, and sweat from her body, from her soft hair and wings.

That was the beginning of a nail in the coffin.

He had not been as vigilant as he should have due to his focus locked solely on Aurora.

She was his priority, not her husband’s mate watching them.

Bastian kicked off the tree. This was the third confirmation he needed. The first had come the morning after the High Lord’s meeting. Aurora’s room had a scent he knew, but hadn’t been able to place. The second came as he watched her sneak out and fly towards the Night Court. Now this. He wanted to chalk it up to war bringing out emotions and needs in all of them. Afterall, he had shamelessly fucked Thesan into a state of bliss and emptyness just moments ago. But there was something in the way Azriel held Aurora, as if he was familiar with her and her body that gave Bastian the answer he needed.

They were having an affair.

And she was a traitor and potential threat to their court.

A month after the war, Azriel and Aurora began to fall into a soft dance. Every two nights, they met in the Day Court, hiding their affair, their love, among Helion’s many fae and open court. Guilt had set into Aurora’s mind at times, guilt that she was betraying her court, her two closest friends. Guilt that she did not feel the bond the way Azriel did. Guilt that as she laid beneath him that night with Azriel peppering kisses and gentle words of adoration and praise into her tanned skin with each slow calculated movement inside of her, that she loved him.

Aurora had truly, madly, and deeply fallen for this male without caution, without second thought, without hesitation. She didn’t need a bond to tell him that as her head fell back, and she whispered those three words over and over, whining desperately for him, pleading for him, feeling nothing but the wholeness only Azriel brought her. Her nails sunk into his back when they found completion together, minds and souls merging into one.

A ring box sat on the bedside table next to them, a glittering black and blue gem centered in gold with sapphires sat beside it, mocking her as he slept . He was behind her, an arm curled around the curve of her waist, soft breathing fanning her neck and causing her to shiver in anticipation of the morning sex she knew they would have.

The ring was such a contrast to the blush pink diamond that sat silver Thesan had gifted her. It wasn’t fair. Thesan was allowed his lover in their scam of a marriage, yet Aurora was meant to be the docile wife blind to what everyone else clearly could see. Every meal between her, Thesan, and Bastian was becoming more and more hostile as resentment built and built on her end. It wasn’t fair, knowing she’d fly home to Dawn tomorrow and they’d be wearing those golden bands while she hid this gorgeous ring and only wore it when she was alone.

She didn’t know they knew. That they had agreed to let her confess in her own time and explain. It wouldn’t matter if she had told them, until that bond snapped, she was trapped in this limbo.

Azriel landed as quietly as possible on Aurora's balcony. It was eerily quiet and dark inside of her normally life filled room. He entered slowly and paused when he saw Thesan sitting on her couch in front of the fire.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" The High Lord sipped something as he waved Azriel closer. "How long have you been fucking my wife in my home?" Azriel did not respond. Only setting his weapons aside to show he meant no harm. Bastian came into the room as well, Aurora held tight in his grip as tears streamed down her face.

Azriel couldn’t suppress the growl that tore through his throat. “Let. Her. Go.”

Thesan was tired of games, though. Tired of months of lies after pretty lies. “He will after you two try to explain yourselves. It is a crime to fuck a High Lord’s wife. Or did Rhysand not tell you that when he put you up to this?”

Azriel glared towards Thesan before locking his gaze on Aurora, the feral side of him watching for any sign of pain or distress since he could not feel her the way he should have been able to. He called out for Rhysand in his mind, not even flinching as Rhys and Cassian appeared behind him.

Rhysand took in the scene, taking a deep breath as his suspicions were all but confirmed. He knew he had no right to judge. After all, he had taken his own mate from her impending marriage to another High Lord. “Thesan, let’s talk about this, please.” Rhys put his hands up, showing he meant to harm as he approached the other High Lord. “I know this is not ideal-”

Thesan interrupted, anger spilling into his words. “He’s fucking my wife. My 2nd general. How much information has she handed to all of you? How deep does this betrayal go, Rhysand?” Azriel paled at what was being inferred, at the consequences Thesan could hand his mate if he felt necessary.

Banishment and death, Aurora realized slowly. This was going to end with her being banished from her home, and possibly from the Night Court to maintain that little relationship Thesan and Rhys had rebuilt, or with her and Azriel’s death. “I told him nothing,” she whimpered out. “It wasn’t like that, Thesan. You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did,” those words felt like hot knives in her chest, cutting deeper than she had ever imagined they could. “I can see now I was clearly wrong about you, Clearly wrong for picking you.”

Aurora just nodded, taking the scolding before looking at Azriel. “Just let him live, Thesan, please. Do what you want with me, but let him live.” Bastian’s grip on her faltered slightly, and Thesan’s mask fell. There was desperation in her tone. “He’s just a male. You know how you all are when something pretty and kind looks your way.”

Bastian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “So you initiated it?”

The lie fell easily as she looked as Cassian gripping Azriel’s arm, holding him back from rushing to her, and in place in case they needed to escape. “Yes, I sought him out each time.”

Thesan knew she was lying. He knew the meeting between them were mutually planned. “So, you confess to high treason then, wife?”

Death. She realized fully. This was going to end with death. She should have been more afraid, but she couldn't be if her confession led to Azriel's safety. “Yes.”

Thesan's face dropped fully. “And you Azriel-”

“Should not be held accountable for my actions,” Aurora interrupted. “Let him go. Ban him from Dawn if you must, but please, let him live.”

Thesan moved to her, taking her chin in his hand. “You love him?”

All she could do was pause, lip trembling as she looked at Thesan's hurt eyes. “I do.”

“More than our people, our court?”

Azriel felt Rhysand move to him as he went to jump, the urge to protect his mate growing stronger and stronger. “Stop,” Rhysand growled and commanded. “She's trying to save your life. Fucking stop.”

“She is my life!” Azriel shouted back. “She is my everything.”

Azriel broke free from them, glaring harshly, “she is why I get out of bed. Why I am happy. She is why I don't fucking hate myself so much anymore. She makes me want to be better. She makes me want to be a better male for myself, for her, for all of you.”

Aurora pulled at Bastian’s grip, wanting to reach Azriel, to hold him. “Let her go. We will leave to the continent and never return. We will both swear out of our positions. Please, Thesan, let my mate go. Do not hurt her.”

The words had Bastian’s hand fall off Aurora's arms, shock setting in as she rushed to Azriel, jumping into his arms and holding him as if her very life and being depended on it.

Thesan was frozen in place watching them. Watching as she whispered goodbye and kept trying to fight him into leaving. “I'm not leaving without you. I'm not living without you.”

Azriel had a tight grip on her upper arms. “I would face 1000 executioners, 1000 deaths, before ever returning to life where you are not in it. If I have to die at his hand by your side, Ii will.”

Aurora shook her head, eyes pleading. “Please go.”

Azriel's lips tightened in a sad smile. “No, angel. I'm not leaving you.” He pulled her to him, holding her head against his chest as she began to cry. “I love you far too much to say goodbye this soon.”

It was as if time was standing still, Rhysand and Cassian unsure of what to do as Bastain grabbed a lunging Thesan's arm and held him back while pointing.

Before them, Aurora's neck and face bargain was glittering, glowing softly as her and Azriel stood there, eyes shut and foreheads touching. He was whispering every soft confession of love to her, of how he had waited for her for centuries, and how he would have waited more. The mark began to fall like snow, sparkling its way down and removing itself from Aurora as the scent of a strong bondbind between mates began to fill the room.

Thesan calmed instantly. Realizing his own hand had played a part in her inability to fully make thatr sacred connection. That their bargain had come with terms he had unknowingly placed. It had forced Aurora to learn and fall in love with Azriel without its influence and power. Ensuring she loved him more than her position, her fae, her court.

It had ensured the male loved her the same though. Ensured he would live for her, breathe for her, bleed for her.

Azriel kissed her deeply, not opening his eyes before forcing her back behind him and offering himself to Thesan.

They loved each other so deeply that their feelings mirrored and merged. Causing him to be blissfully unaware of her ability to see that golden string and of her feelings hitting him wave after wave, colliding with his own in harmony.

Rhysand's jaw twitched as he gently grabbed Aurora. “Fly her home, Cassian. Get her out of here.”

Bastian held a hand up. “There's no need to do that. Her part of the bargain is fulfilled.” He turned to his mate. “Let her go, The’. Let her be happy. She's sacrificed so much for our home. For us.”

Thesan looked at her with pride and sympathy. “I'm so fucking happy for you,” he rushed to his best friend. “Oh Gods we get to plan a wedding!” Thesan pulled her in close. “An actual wedding, Rora. Not some bullshit paper with conditions.”

Cassian rose a brow to Bas, crossing his arms. “General.”

Bastain raised a brow to Cassian, mimicking his stance and tone, “General?”

Cassian put his hands up, smiling. “Why didn't you two just tell all of us? We don't care.”

Bastian smiled, head inclining to Thesan. “To protect him. The rules of war are not the same as the rules for leaders.”

Rhysand scoffed. “Tell that to Helion, Tamlin, and Tarquin.”

“And you,” Azriel quickly said. “Beron and Kal are the only two that haven't slept with another male.”

Thesan was too deep in Aurora, wiping her tears away to even care about the rest. “Rora, I have the perfect dress in mind. You're going to love it. It's this pretty white drop waist with a lace back. Cute off the shoulder ties. Big full tulle skirt. Not like Feyre's cupcake monstrous dress, but classy. Faerie tale like.'' Aurora nodded. All her worries were forgotten as she waited for him to continue. “Oooooh in the High Garden,” Thesan was practically drooling. His true side coming out in front of strangers for the first time. “I always imagined your hair down in a waterfall braid with flowers too.”

He made it a reality a year later. Aurora rocked back on her high heels, hands shaking as Bastian stood beside her, waiting for the cue to take her before Rhysand, Feyre, Thesan, and the High Priestess of Dawn. “Breathe,” Bastian commanded softly. Almost smirking as the command forced an effect on her.

He had enjoyed giving commands since being sworn in as Thesan's husband and second High Lord of Dawn. He thought it was funny how almost unbearably compulsive the commands were to follow. “Asshole,” she muttered softly. “I'm allowed to be nervous.”

Bastian shrugged. “It's just a wedding with over 500 fae present. I don't understand what there is to be nervous about? It's not like this wedding also seals an agreement between Dawn and the Night court in regards to healers, trade exports, cross training between our camps-”

Aurora glared at him, her face paling. “Shut. Up.”

It was still odd to see her bare skin. Her face was unmarked from the bargain. Azriel had promised his mark on her would appear elsewhere, wanting the world to admire her beauty.

He was hoping for her spine, somewhere hidden from his countless enemies, but visible in the low back dress styles popular in Night. Hell, he would settle for a tiny A adorning her ring finger.

Just something marking her as his.

The music began and Bastian offered her his arm, “Ready, Aurora?”

She smiled and nodded. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

#acotar #acotar x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel acosf

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year

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Fluff period comfort with tangerine? Pls Can I request that? I just got mine and it sucks and I hate it, and I feel like some good old comfort from tan would help. thank you:)

hii!! of course, I just got mine and im in agony😭 this might be a little self indulgent, bc I wrote what literally happened to me this morning (well obviously without the hunky tangerine🥲) hope this helps! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 *I didn't mark it as mature, tumblr did :/ *

period comfort

tangerine x f reader

wc || 1.1k

warnings || fluff and mentions of blood/ period symptoms

masterlist + rules

taglist

Tangerine had the morning off, so it was quite a pleasant surprise when you rolled over to face the sleeping beauty that is your boyfriend. As much as you wanted to snuggle next to him, there was an uncomfortably wet feel between your thighs, you weren’t sure if it was sweat or discharge, so you quietly slipped yourself out of bed to assess the issue.

Standing upright, you look down at your feet and see a few trails of blood travel down each of your inner legs. “No.” You mutter, staring down at the now small pool of blood. Looking around, you look for something to clean up with, you wanted to make as little mess as possible as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Where’d ya go?” Tangerine softly yawns, patting the absence on your side of the bed. “Why you standing there, you nob?” Lightly laughing as he perches himself on his elbow to look at you better.

“I don’t know what to do.” You mumble, gazing around the room in panic as you continue your search.

“Why? What happened?” He asks, head cocking to the side as if to understand you better. He notices the red-stained trails on the inside of your legs and immediately jolts out of bed. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” He warmly questions, running into the en-suite to collect a damp wash cloth and towel. “How long you been there?” His tone careful and sweet as he drops the towel to the floor.

Replying with a slight frown. “I don’t know, two minutes? I didn’t wanna make any more mess.”

He takes your hands, silently urging you to take a step onto the towel. “Don’t be daft. I don’t care about the mess.” Sweetly looking up at you as he cleans around your ankles, collecting the droplets on the fabric.

“Everything is so clean and organised… usually I have a pile of dirty washing in the corner of my room, and I’ll use that.”

“I know, and it’s disgusting.” He lightly jokes, trying to make you feel more relaxed. “Make your way to the bathroom when you can, I’ll go get a shower sorted, ‘lright?” Sweetly grinning as he holds either side of your face, leaning in to place a couple tender kisses on your lips.

“Okay.” You softly mumble, slowly waddling after him. “Oh, god.”

“What? What? Are you okay?” He questions, his tone speckled with panic as he rushes into the doorway to see you.

“The bed.” You sadly reply, staring at the red patch in the white sheets. “I’m sorry.”

He wafts his hands, ushering you along. “Don’t worry about that, come on.”

“I’m really sorry… they’re so expensive.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t care about that, just come here and we’ll get you cleaned up.” He takes your hand and leads you into the bathroom. “Take as long as you need, I’ll only be next door so just call me if you need me.”

“Thank you.” You sweetly respond, closing the door after him, and stepping into the waterfall shower.

You spent as long as you could in there, allowing the hot water to caress and soothe your sore skin. Everything just seemed to hurt and eventually, the water began to do the same. So you decided to wash as quickly as you could before stepping out. Wrapping yourself in the cosy fluffy towel that Tangerine had been warming on the radiator.

Making your way back into his bedroom, you see a pile of things he had left out for you; his pyjama bottoms, a baggy sweatshirt, and clean underwear with a pad and tampon resting atop. Patting dry, you dress yourself and plop down on the now-stripped kingsize bed. Everything felt like too much when you were on your period, everything just seemed to irritate you, it wouldn’t matter how minor it may be, it would still grate on you. All you wanted to do right now was cry and bury yourself under a mountain of blankets.

“Come on you wally, been waiting for you.” Tangerine’s soft voice interrupts your thoughts as he hangs in the doorway. Cautiously watching you. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” You nod, quickly wiping your eyes.

He warmly chuckles as he makes his way over to you, lacing his hands into yours to help you to your feet. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know… I’m just really annoyed.” You meekly laugh, hugging into his side.

“I’m sorry darlin'.” His tone warm and considerate as he gazed over you. “I’ve made it real cosy downstairs for ya, ‘lright? Just put your feet up for a bit, yeah?”

He helps you down the stairs, one step at a time as he leads you into the fairy-light-lit living room. It really was a thought to beholder; your hunky broody boyfriend lighting candles and pinning up twinkly lights. He ushers you to the sofa, setting you down and covering you in your favourite blankets. Tucking the corners under you to keep the warmth inside. “Alright, one min.” He smiles, rushing into the kitchen once he hears the microwave ding.

He returns shortly after with a heat pad, a hot water bottle and a sweet smile. “Here, pop your head forward a bit, love.” Carefully setting the heat pad behind your neck and gently pulling your head back to get you more comfortable. He pulls out a fluffy bunny cover from his hoodie pocket and shoves the hot water bottle inside, then lays it across your abdomen, using your facial expressions as a gauge to get it in the place you needed.

“Thank you.” You smile, nuzzling the side of your head into the sofa.

He grins as he takes a seat beside you. “Don’t have to thank me.”

He softly groans as he leans forward to grab a bag from the floor, placing it on his lap and immediately digging in. “I keep a bag like this for you in case you’re here for, you know, your time of the month.” Flashing you a quick sincere smile as he pulls out a selection of goodies. “I got all kinds of chocolate… let’s see, we got chocolate buttons… some cheap shit white chocolate… sweets— a few packs of them actually. Chocolate pretzels, the lot. Oh and some raspberries in the fridge— I heard they’re good for cramps… and other fruits, just depends what you want.” He gushes, somewhat excited to be able to take care of you. “And some paracetamol. Or if you fancy something salty I got crisps in the cupboard above the kettle.”

Warmly gazing at him with a wide smile plastered across your face. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”

He sheepishly grins as he leans into you, snuggling you. “Always welcome… we can watch a film if ya want? Or we can have a nap, whatever you want.”

“Do you not have work later?” You ask, tilting your head to look at him.

Draping his arm over your shoulder, placing a kiss to your temple. “Nah, I booked next couple days off.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to look after you.”

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @ch3rries-n-cream @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction #lemon and tangerine #tangerine fluff #tangerine blurb #bullet train tangerine #tangerine and lemon #tangerine bullet train #tangerine comfort #tangerine imagine

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lincolndjarin · 7 months

Text

// tw for graphic descriptions of sexual assault. this is just a vent post bc i have nowhere els to get these feeling out sorry.

yeah so idk everyone can ignore this i just wanted to write it out bc that's what i do and this is so much but i write things out, like, that's what i do.

i don't really have anyone i can talk to anymore. im not exaggerating when i say i have one friend who still lives in the same state as i do. and she is quite literally always in a lab because she's trying to cure cancer so it's like woof how do i bring her my problems when i only get to see her a couple times a month? i don't want her to associate what little time we spend together with just me complaining bc i love her so much and i don't want to do that to her when she so rarely gets a break. the rest of my friends are scattered around the country so when they are in town we usually just go out and call it a night. and my best friend moved to another state in august. i miss him every day. he's quite literally my soulmate and because of the sudden distance between us i made a conscious effort to give him some space. he's in a new place and i wanted to give him time to adjust and make new friends so i've really only been texting him when there's an emergency or if he texts me first.

so i've sort of just been filled with an overwhelming sense of being alone in a way i never have been previously. it's a big part of why i started writing. a lot of people made comments about how when i first started writing bks that the update schedule was crazy bc i was posting nearly 3 chapters a week and that was because i was desperate to pour my attentions into something other than the fact that i was alone.

all of that is nonsense and in all honestly just a precursor to what is actually upsetting me.

a few of my friends are in town and last night we went out to a club that we used to go to all the time. I haven't gone out in quite some time so i was pretty excited and because it's a gay club i usually feel pretty safe there, i've always been with a large group of friends and i have never felt threatened there because the people are always extremely kind and there is very attentive security.

because i haven't been out in months i definitely overestimated how much alcohol i could handle. i was pretty wasted when we arrived but we got there early enough that it was relatively empty for the first few minutes and we were able to just sort of talk and hang out.

later that night i was with two of my friends dancing when i smiled at a guy who was dancing near us. I have never felt threatened by the men at this club, despite the fact that i am usually pretty wary about men in general due to the fact that i assaulted multiple times by a family friend when i was young.

i was heavily intoxicated at this point but still lucid. i smile at everyone, i make a conscious effort to compliment as many people as possible when i'm out and to smile at everyone.

before i fully knew what was happening he was behind me groping me. one of the two friends that i was dancing with gave me a sort of thumbs up thumbs down signal to see if i was okay, i just sort of frowned and nodded, i didn't really know what to do so i just sort of let it happen, it seemed relatively harmless enough.

after another minute or so he became aggressive, he grabbed me by my chest and held me in place, he bit me and humped me until he came against the back of my skirt. he had not said a single word to me at this point. immediately after that happened i grabbed my friend by the arm and asked him if we could go outside to get some air.

when we recalled what had happened to my other friends it became clear that no one knew the extent of what had happened. they asked if i was okay and i smiled and nodded. i didn't want to ruin the first night we've had out in months so i made a few jokes about it and we went back inside.

i spent the rest of the night staying as close as possible to my friends with my back to the wall.

we didn't leave for another hour or so because my friends were having fun and i told them i was fine. on several occasions throughout the night he would try to get near me again but i managed to avoid him without ever involving anyone else.

i didn't speak much on the car ride home, i had sobered up at that point because i had stopped drinking immediately after it had happened. i didn't cry until i went to bed that night and then i just went to sleep.

it's a little after noon now, i woke up a few hours ago and i just feel sort of empty. i've dealt with the aftermath of assault before but this is somehow worse because i had the opportunity to stop it and i didnt. when i was a kid it was easy to come to terms with the fact that it was never my fault. i was a little girl, the adults around me failed to protect me from what was happening and it was never on me.

but now i am an adult, who was drunk and dressed promiscuously in a club. and it's much harder to swallow because i didn't push him away and i could have asked for help and i didnt so ive just sort of spent this morning staring out the window and drinking lemonade because that's what i do on sundays.

and i feel more alone than i usually do because who am i supposed to talk to about this? i told my friends who were there last night that i was fine and i don't want to text anyone whos been out of town bc it's like 'hey it's been a while! lets catch up! i think i might have been assaulted last night!' and who wants to hear that.

so i guess i'll just do what i do to cope and i'll just write more.

idk. it's just been a rough 12 hours and im tired from all the crying and i really needed to get this out and this is the only place i could think to put this and im sorry if this is too much it's just been sitting stagnant in my mind and it helps me to write so thats what i did.

thats all i guess.

#tw sa #tw assault #long post #personal #tw vent

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eddieschains · 1 year

Note

okay i saw you taking requests and ofc i have to make one bc... how tf can i not but also bear with me bc this is my first time ever making an actual request and im scared

so you know when you're in the "less than lovers, more than friends" stage? yes. something like that with joe but he sees you being 'friendly' with some other guy and yk just some fun some jealousy some smut if you're feeling frisky 👀

i did not make any sense and now im gonna dig a hole and kms out of embarrassment. sorry you had to read that.

oh my god im literally so honored that you chose me for your first request 🥲 hopefully i did it justice queen !!

TW: rpf (don’t like it don’t read it), language, drunk sex kinda??, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

You had known Joe for years now. You two went to school together and shared the same friend group. There was always some kind of sexual tension between you two, and it became a running joke between your friends as to when you two were finally going to swallow your pride and start dating. Joe swore that there was nothing, and would always be nothing, between you two other than your regular playful flirting. That was until one new years party and a few too many tequila shots later, when you guys broke your promise, and were soon ripping each other’s clothes off in the bathroom of your best friends house.

And that brings us to now. It’s been a year since then, and you and Joe had practically become inseparable. Despite the fact that you guys fucked like rabbits, and went out for lunch almost every weekend, you both agreed to not make your relationship exclusive. With Joe being away from home a lot, and you constantly working late hours, it would be hard to start and maintain a relationship. So, you just relished in the time you two could spend together.

After a whirlwind year for Joe, he finally was getting a week break for the holidays. Since he hadn’t seen much of his friends all year, he organized the whole group to go out to a club together. Like Joe, you also hadn’t done much other than work all year, so you were excited to get dressed up and give no fucks for a night.

You put on a short black dress showing as much cleavage as possible, some red platform heels, and a thin gold necklace Joe had gifted you for your birthday. Your hair was done in beach waves, and you put it in a high ponytail with a couple pieces framing your face. Your makeup was minimal besides a sharp cat eyeliner, and a bold red lip. Most people might say you were dressed slutty but fuck it. This was a night to let loose and you were going to do exactly that.

Your car was in the shop over the weekend, so Joe had agreed to pick you up. You’d probably be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t dressed like this for him. At least a little bit. You heard your phone ping, signaling a text from Joe saying he was outside. Grabbing your purse, you practically sprinted out the door into his car.

“Oh hey sexy.” Joe greeted you, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

You laugh, “Hi. Ready to get fucked up?” you respond.

“Always.” He puts the car in gear, and starts driving to the club.

You pull into the parking lot to see all your friends waiting for you. You hop out of the car to be greeted by very loud heys and finallys.

“Oh look, the love birds finally decided to show up.” Your friend Jess said, pulling you into a hug.

“There’s no love birds here.” You gave Jess a look, telling her to shut up.

“That’s right, they’re just fuck buddies.” Wesley joins in. You roll your eyes and strut inside of the club.

The night was going great. Joe reserved an entire section in the back of the club for everyone to hang out and catch up when you weren’t cutting shapes on the dance floor.

Joe had his arm wrapped around you all night, making the love bird jokes a little harder to dispute. Once you had a few drinks, you were feeling a little frisky, you excused yourself to the dance floor.

You’re swaying your hips and tapping your feet to the sound of the music when you feel a pair of hands on your hips. You turn around to see a tall blonde man smirking at you, hands on your hips moving your body with him to the beat.

The two of you don’t exchange any words, you just start grinding into each other letting the music take you. His hands are roaming up and down your body before they land on your ass. Your arms find their way around the boys shoulders while his lips find theirs on your neck.

You continue grinding into him, small moans leaving your mouth until suddenly, your arm is being yanked from him and you’re dragged outside of the club.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” It’s Joe. He’s staring down at you with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before.

“What the fucks wrong with me? What the fucks wrong with you?!” He spits at you. You’re confused. He can’t be mad at you for dancing with someone else, you two aren’t even together.

“Are you jealous Joe?” You say with a condescending tone. He just laughs at you.

“You can’t be jealous Joe, you and i are not together. And if i remember correctly, you’re the one who originally wanted it that way.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at any guy who gives you attention.” He knows that presses a button.

“Fuck you Joe. You don’t get to sit here and tell me i can’t have fun or i can’t fuck someone else.”

His eyes drop. “Are you fucking other people?” Silence. “Y/N, are you fucking other people?” He raises his voice.

“Like i said, we’re not together. We’re not exclusive. You expect me, a grown woman, to sit here while you’re gone for months at a time and just wait around for you?”

“Just because we’re not in a relationship doesn’t mean i’m okay with you shagging other guys.” He’s still yelling. You’re sure you’re bringing attention to yourselves, but that’s not exactly on the forefront of your mind. You need him to know he can’t pick and choose when he wants you.

“That’s not how it fucking wor-“ His hands grab your face as he pushes his lips on yours. You can’t help but to give in. You pull him closer to you as your tongue finds its way into his mouth.

He pulls away, “Follow me.” He wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you back into the club. He leads you straight to the bathrooms and you know exactly what’s about to go down.

You two stumble your way into a one stall bathroom as he locks the door behind him. You can see the tent poking through his trousers as the heat between your legs starts growing.

“Face the mirror.” He commands. You do as he says, leaning over the sink and gripping onto the sides of it.

He lifts the bottom of your dress up and tears your panties off, earning a groan from you. His fingers immediately reach

for your pussy and he starts rubbing circles on your clit. You feel him grinding himself into your ass as his other hand reaches around your neck.

“Tell me you want me. Tell me you want my cock inside of you and no one else.” He’s looking at you through the mirror, rubbing faster circles around your clit.

“I want you Joe. I want your cock and no one else’s. I want you to fuck me like you own me.” He groans in your ear and removes his fingers from your cunt.

He pulls his pants down, his boxers with them before slapping your ass. The pain makes you wince, but it doesn’t last long because before you know it he’s shoving his cock all the way inside of you.

“Holy- fuck Joe!” You scream out. You’re sure people outside can hear you but you couldn’t give less of a shit right now.

“Fuck babe you’re so fuckin tight. Gonna make me cum too fast.” He’s pounding in and out of you at an unhuman rate. Your body starts to go limp, and you hang your head lower, focusing on your grip on the sink to keep you from falling down.

Joe wraps his hand around your neck and brings your head back up.

“Uh-uh. Look at yourself in the mirror.” He gives you no choice but to look at yourself.

Seeing the way your mouth involuntarily hangs open as he drives his cock deeper inside of you.

“See that? See how good i’m making you feel? There’s no way anyone else could make you feel this good. Such a dirty fucking girl.” His words make your pussy clench around him. You can feel his cock twitch inside you and you know he’s close.

His hand releases it’s hold on your neck and starts to focus back on your clit, trying to bring you over the edge.

“Oh my god Joe. Please don’t- fuck- don’t stop. Please please please.” You feel tears forming in your eyes as you beg him for a release. You see him nod through the mirror, allowing you to cum. Your body tenses up as a wave of pleasure washes over you, making you lose your balance once again.

Joe grabs onto your hips to both hold you up and give him more leverage to fuck into you, now chasing his own orgasm.

“Baby- oh shit- baby i’m gonna cum. M’gonna fucking cum!” He barely finishes his sentence before you feel his load dripping out of you and down your leg. He stays inside for a few minutes, places kisses along your back before slowly pulling out.

You fix your dress and your hair as he pulls his pants back up.

“Don’t talk to me like that ever again.” Joe says.

You smirk at his words, “If i speak to you like that again will you fuck me like that again?”

He rolls his eyes and smacks your ass. “Shut up. Now you can go back to grinding on that fucker with my cum dripping out of your cunt.”

#fic requests #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x fem reader #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn #ceriseheaven

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nikrangdan · 3 years

Text

lovestruck!enhypen x reader

pairing: lovestruck!enhypen x reader

genre: FLUFF fluff Fluff

description: how enhypen would be if they became lovestruck by the reader ☹️☹️ this is such an adorable request!!!! itll vary for each member ur relationships so you’ll either be strangers or already dating etc.

a/n: idk if all of them are lovestruck exactly bc i just got carried away with the fluff for some of them and idky maknae line revolves around sleeping BUT IDC sleepy!enhypen is the best 😁

———————

HEESEUNG

u worked at a pretty popular clothing store

and well well well heeseung had shown up dressed very much your style so u were like

Wow who is this guy....

he was alone just looking around

and there were like 10 other people in the store but u wanted to talk to him so bad so u went up like

“hi, welcome! are u finding everything okay?”

he was looking through a rack of shirts and turned around when he heard u but WOW

when this man turned around he looked even better in person u couldnt believe it 😫

BUT IT SEEMS HE FELT THE SAME BC U SWEAR HE BECAME SO FLUSTERED WHEN HE TURNED AROUND

his eyes got so wide u almost laughed it was so cute ☹️

he stuttered and was like “oh um im okay”

Aw man

but u said “okay then! let me know if you need any help finding anything or if u wanna use a dressing room!” and u sent him ur nicest smile u could give

his eyes were still kinda wide open and u gave him one last look before turning around😢😢

BUT THEN HE SAID SOMETHING

“w-wait! actually.. um....uh.. do u.. do u guys have sweatpants..?”

u giggled to urself on the inside bc u knew he just made that up on the spot

“we do! here, follow me”

while u were showing him the clothes u guys had exchanged names and had some small talk

and that was the start of something very Beautiful

and since then he has been coming almost everyday to visit u at work 🤗🤗

JAY

jay swore he found new things about u to love every single day

and today wasnt an exception!!!!

u knew jay had been really tired and just worn out from work recently so u had decided to make him his favorite meal for dinner

a nice little surprise for when he got home ❤️

and also the anime he was watching ready on the tv for u two to watch together :(

u had literally been preparing all day and u even decided to go out and buy dessert too

AWESOMEST PERSON EVER U ARE!

it was 8pm already and jay should be getting home now

u set the table all neatly and put on one of his sweaters

AND WOULD U LOOK AT THAT HE GOT HOME AS SOON AS U WERE DONE

Fate 🔥🔥

romantic stuff like this wasnt really ur forte so this was out of the normal for u

but u wanted to do something for jay because he did stuff like this for u alot

the table isnt in view when u walk into the apartment so he wasnt able to see his dinner yet

“hi” you smile brightly and go up to hug him and give him a little kiss

he had his bad slung over one of his shoulders and he was taking his shoes off in the doorway after he closed it

“hey.. it smells pretty good in here” he gave you a tired smile while one of his arms was wrapped around your waist

“really? it smells normal to me” you giggled before walking to the kitchen area together

he stopped and looked at u with LITERAL HEARTS IN HIS EYES when he saw the table

jay: ❤️_❤️

“y/n..”

“surprise!!! you know im not good with words but i wanted to show you that i can cook” you laugh “and that i love you very much and im so proud of you”

jay doesnt say anything but instead drops his bag on the couch and gives u the Biggest Hug Ever

ur face is practically smushed in his chest and his hand is resting lovingly on ur hair :(((

he loves u so much im so sad

JAKE

“layla!!! layla where are you?” jake was yelling quite loudly in the massive park he was in the middle of

yeah jake lost layla.. uh oh

quite a coincidence you found the cutest dog you’d ever laid eyes on

and she seemed to love u very much

the dog had made u topple over and now she was excitedly playing with you while you were sat on the ground laughing to your hearts content

after a minute of playing you had got up because you knew she was somebodys lost dog and her owner was probably looking all over the park for her

“okay.. lets go find your owner before they have a heart attack” you giggle

just as you said that though, you heard a boys voice yell “LAYLA!!!!”

the dog next to you looked in his direction, tail wagging and tongue out, but she didnt move an inch from her spot next to you

it made me you laugh out loud

as you were watching the boy run up to you, you noticed how cute he actually was

Omg..... ur heart started beating a little faster

“hi..” the boy hunched over with his hands on his knees breathing very heavily “you have my dog”

“uh yeah” you laugh “sorry about that, she ran over to me a couple minutes ago and i was just about to go find her owner”

“its okay, thank you..” he trailed off to find out your name and finally looked up to meet your eyes

“y/n” you told him

“y/n” he repeated with a small grin on his face “im jake”

“hi jake” you lightheartedly give him your hand to shake and he chuckles before taking the offer

“and it was nice meeting you layla” you crouch down to meet her level and she licks your face making you fall on your butt

you laugh and jakes quick to help you up

“layla! thats not very nice” he jokingly scolds her and pets her head

after u got up u bid goodbye to the two before jake invited u to continue walking around the park AND HE EVEN BOUGHT U AN ICE CREAM

Is This A Date, Jake? 😫😫❤️❤️❤️❤️😳😛😛

SUNGHOON

“you should be more careful” you scold the boy sitting with you standing between his legs

sunghoon had apparently gotten elbowed in the face by his friend and scratched by his friends cat on accident????

“it wasn’t my fault! he turned around and i just happened to be in the way. and i didnt even do anything to the cat!” he whined

“i didnt say it was your fault. i said to be more careful.” you tried to sound stern

u knew ur logic was making no sense but u just thought it was so fun to mess with him

he let out a sigh and gave up, slouching over again

you were stood between his legs, wiping the blood away and applying ointment

“im just kidding, you’re so cute” one of your free hands comes up to rub his hair

a small grin pops up on his face and his arms come to rest on your waist

he looks up at you while you focus on tending to his wounds

and u guessed it WITH LITERAL HEARTS IN HIS EYES

❤️_❤️

“you know y/n” he begins

you hum in response, letting him know you’re listening

“im gonna marry you one day”

you freeze in your place

it took you a minute to collect yourself because you felt like your heart almost leaped out of your chest

“who says?” you joke

he leans up to give you a quick kiss on the lips before sitting back down

“me.”

SUNOO

you noticed sunoo had been really tired lately and u just wanted to make him feel better :((

the boys were going out and invited you two obviously but you could tell sunoo was iffy about going

“uhh..” you trail off and look over at sunoo who was laying on the couch

“you know what guys? i think me and sunoo are gonna stay home today.. you guys have fun though!” you bid goodbye to the other boys and they all understood and left

you dont even know if sunoo knew they had left already because when you walked over to him his tired eyes were glued on the tv

“hey” you leaned against the couch and looked down at him

“y/n? are we going soon?” his eyes move to the top of his head to look up at you

you start laughing and he literally goes 🤨???

“silly, they already left! so what do you wanna do?” you plop down next to him and he was in the process of sitting up

“what? when did they leave...” his mouth drops open

“like 2 minutes ago” you giggle, leaning back to rest your head

sunoo had sat still, pondering for a moment

“why did they leave us?” he turned to look at you

your eyes met his “well i figured you didnt wanna go... you didnt, right?”

he slowly shakes his head “how did you know?”

you give him a sneaky smile and jokingly push his arm “because i know you so well”

he laughs at this and leans his head on your shoulder

“wow y/n.. im impressed” he grins, snuggling into your arm

your other arm crosses over to pat him on the head, leaning your head to rest on top of his

“but thank you y/n..” his eyes slowly close to rest “im thankful for all the little things you notice about me”

u literally go 🥺

your hand goes down to squeeze his and he falls asleep peacefully on ur shoulder ☹️☹️☹️❤️

JUNGWON

“y/n..what is that” jungwons eyes can barely open as he tries to comprehend whats going on while hes waking up

you haphazardly tap around the bedside table trying to turn off the new alarm you set last night

and that new alarm was jungwon singing 🤗

“its you, dummy” your eyes were still closed but you turned to face jungwon and snuggled closer to him

“wha- where did you even get that???” he was almost fully awake now, staring down at your half asleep figure

you yawned before answering in your i-just-woke-up-and-i-should-probably-drink-some-water voice “remember when you sang me to sleep last week? yeah i was secretly recording you. no biggie” you pat his chest twice and leave your hand there, content with life at the moment Lol

“y/nnnn” he whines “change ittt i dont like it”

“you’re kidding.” you deadpan, shocked he would say such a thing!!! “jungwon you sound like an angel threw up on a field of flowers full of puppies and kittens! okay thats kinda weird maybe not that”

jungwon giggles a little and sits up so he can sit against the headboard while your head rests on his lap

“you like my singing that much?” you can hear the smile in his voice as he asks you

you finally pop one eye open to look up at him, a goofy grin in your face

“i love your singing”

his hands run through your hair and you let out a sigh at the feeling

jungwon doesnt say anything

all he does is admire you

you can feel his eyes on you so you open your eyes again (both this time🙏🏼) and meet his eyes

“i can feel you staring straight into the depths of my soul, jungwon”

he laughs at this, bring his other hand up to pinch your cheek

“i’ll sing for you whenever you want me to y/n”

NI-KI

“shut up sunghoon, hes sleeping” you whisper-scolded the boy

ni-ki was currently asleep on you

literally SPRAWLED all over your body and you were basically mummified

by nishimura riki

his legs were tangled in yours, his head shoved into your neck, and his arms were bent around you in ways you didnt know were humanly possible

“you literally have an alien taking a nap on you y/n” sunghoon deadpans before walking out the room

“when you’re asleep sunghoon i will send you into a spacecraft for the rest of your life so you can go see aliens for yourself”

“wowww im so scared y/n” the boy remarks and shuts the door

you half laugh and half scoff before turning your attention back to the ipad screen sitting on the bed infront of you

well

kind of infront of you because ni-ki’s acrobatic position was basically blocking the view

you were having a decent time watching the show playing, definitely not the most comfortable person on the planet at the moment

until you felt the body on top of you.. rumble?

you knew that feeling

ni-ki was laughing

HOW and WHY the hell was he laughing ?!!?!!?!

“what the hell?” you look down at him and his face is shoved near your shoulder but you caught a glimpse of his big smile

his laughter gets louder and you still dont have answers yet

“why are you laughing???? i thought you were sleeping?????” you try to push him off you but he was persistent in laughing in your shoulder (??)

after a couple minutes of you just letting this happen

ni-ki finally speaks!

“you’re so funny y/n” he finally pulls away from you and wipes his tears

“what are you even talking about... and how long were you awake, you sneaky kid” you poke his chest

he leans down again to hug your waist and start cuddling you again

“10 minutes”

“so you’re telling me i could’ve freed myself from that god awful demon EMBRACE you had me in 10 minutes ago???!!”

ni-ki starts laughing again and looks up at you

“thank you for threatening to send sunghoon to aliens for me y/n” he grins

you laugh, finally understanding what the boy had been going on about

“sunghoon deserved it”

#enhypenwriters #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen headcanons #jungwon imagines #heeseung imagines #sunghoon imagines #ni ki imagines #sunoo imagines #enhypen timestamps #enhypen imagine

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elysianslove · 3 years

Note

ay yo? lmao haiiiii any chance we can get some haikyuu boys and nicknames they'd call their s/o? a lil deprived of kageyama, so if possible can you pls include him?? i hope you're doing well :)

omg wait i remember seeing this in my inbox and planning on answering it but i ,,, i forgot :( im sorry :( but here it is lovely <3

HAIKYUU BOYS AND NICKNAMES

ANGEL ! —

akaashi; out of all his nicknames for you, this is his favorite!! he just thinks it’s very fitting for you, because you’re nothing short of ethereal for him. loves to say it when he’s first greeting you or as he kisses you gn or!!! when he says thank you :)

osamu; it slips sometimes with him!! not his go-to but it’s very familiar on his tongue when it comes to you, and that’s very endearing :,) just slips casually when he’s asking you a question like, “angel, do we need milk?”

daichi; omg he usually adds to it and it ends up being some cheesy stuff like “angel-face” and it makes you all flustered because wtf man :( and he always says it while laughing teasingly too ugh :(

suna; suna has the cheesiest nicknames for you and you cannot convince me otherwise, and you can never tell if it’s genuine or ironic but,,, it doesn’t matter. he sounds so sweet calling you “angel” so whatever :)

aran; this man. this man. he says it cause he knows it has you weak. he says it so lovingly, so sweetly, so casually, so suave and relaxed and his voice is so smooth and deep. who wouldn’t be swooning over him???

aone; AONE AONE PLS AONE PLEASE. he’d just think it’s such a sweet and kind and soft nickname and he likes the way it sounds when it’s whispered and he thinks nothing is more perfect than nicknaming you angel and he says it all the time like “ok, angel,” and “see you tomorrow, angel,” and, “love you, angel,” and it’s so quiet but so sweet hwbwjsjd

oikawa; he’s about to be in 90% of these cause he’ll be calling you anything but your name. is it because he wants to be annoying and to get on your nerves? or is it because he genuinely means it? the world will never know. you’re not even sure he himself does.

DOLL ! —

matsukawa; are you kidding me this is his. it’s HIS. he sounds so hot saying it and he looks so hot saying it and he’s so charming and it’s so like easy on his tongue. and he has a slight drawl to it too and he always says it with this aura of relaxation and ease it’s so hot. he just. he loves it. he loves you. you love it. the world is a better place.

atsumu; he thinks he’s way cooler than he is when he says it. you suppose he is pretty hot when he calls you doll but you’re not gonna tell him that!!! it’s not his go-to but you can catch it slipping off his tongue every once in a while.

kuroo; yesyesyes he loves it. only ever says it when he’s so up close and personal with you like cups your cheeks and hovers his lips against yours like, “heya, doll,” and he’s just so handsome. ugh.

kageyama; at the start of your relationship, kageyama called you by your name and nothing else!! but then he had like this talk w someone and they asked him what he calls you and he realized like,,, am i supposed to be doing it differently??? spent so long just searching up “cute nicknames for my s/o” and then he found “doll” and was like ok. i’ll try. and he tried!! and it stuck!! plus timeskip kags calling you doll??? that’s so hot bye

oikawa; this might be the only sincere nickname he has for you cause everything else is either to provoke you or to be cringy and annoying. and i’m sure you prefer doll over sweet cheeks and pumpkin pie and cinnamon whatever like you hungry tōru?? anyways he loves loves loves calling you doll cause he thinks it’s such a ? smooth and serene nickname? and his voice always gets deeper and quiet when he says it so!!!!

SUNSHINE ! —

hinata; please he is all the sunshine, but he always claims that you’re the true sun in his life. idk hinata would be so lame yet so cute like that :( and he always says it with such a big grin he’s so cute pls :(

tendō; he’s so cute he’s so cute he’s so cute !!!!! your contact name is “my sunshine” definitely definitely definitely. he is literally in love with you and wants the whole world to know it. he loves screaming it out for everyone to hear but also absolutely adores like hugging you from behind and whispering in your ear as he kisses your cheek, “hey, sunshine.” :(((((

kenma; kenma doesn’t wanna think too hard on the whole nicknames thing but he also does kind of sort of really wants to call you something special and the first thing that pops in his head is sunshine. first time he used it you were Shocked but he was acting nonchalant about it (read: freaking out on the inside) and you were like “ok guess im sunshine now.” and you are his sunshine to this day.

BABY/BABE ! —

atsumu; it’s easy and it’s endearing!! he personally loves being called babe but he loves hugging you close to him after a long day and just sighing, “hey, baby,” like. he loves it okay. he thinks it’s perfect cause it fits and cause it’s like kinda traditional yk!!

bokuto; he loves calling you baby cause he just cannot fathom that you’re his like he loves to always say it!!! and he loves how casual it is too like he can just call you that?? that’s so cool??

iwaizumi; again with the traditional but endearing and fitting. he doesn’t have to think too hard on it, but also it still means something and is more than just your name or a shorter version of it. also he sounds so hot calling you baby or babe idk i just know it.

hanamaki; king of “babe! babe :( babeeee! babee. babe come on! babe! baby :(” you’re 99% sure he’s just provoking you at this point. like say babe one more time. but he actually loves resorting to baby, especially when you’re upset and he wants to be as endearing and kind as he can to you.

daichi; very traditional too tbh. honestly when you two first started dating it was all he could think of saying without feeling awkward or feeling like he was trying too hard. later on when he started to feel more comfortable and more secure he got more creative.

nishinoya; he has been waiting for this moment his whole life. the moment he can actually call someone his baby or babe. it’s his favorite and possibly only nickname (aside calling you pretty or gorgeous or handsome) and it will always be.

MY LOVE ! —

akaashi; definitely definitely definitely calls you “my love” like i am 100% sure of this. akaashi is just so. he’s just so romantic but it’s also so unintentional? he says it because it feels natural and it feels right like you are his love after all, aren’t you?

sakusa; he’s not one for elaborate nicknames honestly, and he feels like “my love” is the right balance of sweet, kind, fitting, and subtle and serene. it’s not doing too much but it’s also doing more than enough yk? also people that look like they would wear a trench coat/blazer and a turtleneck beneath also look like they would use the term “my love” hence sakusa and akaashi.

tendō; i am telling you guys he is a simp. the loveliest simp ever. he says it so sweetly too like it genuinely makes your tummy twist and heart backflip when you hear him say it cause you can hear how genuine he is in his words oh my god.

kita; he just !!! he is just husband material okay!!! he is so endearing and he says it in the softest most genuine voice ever and it’s literally his go to because yes you are his love you’re his entire world!!! he loves you!! he wants you to know it every time he calls out to you!!

BUNNY/PUPPY ! —

bokuto; ARE YOU KIDDING ME. HE LOVES IT. he. loves it. he just finds it so cute and like. he loves the way he associates it with you now. prefers puppy over bunny but like. he loves both. he adores both.

matsukawa; calls you bunny all the time. not more than doll, but it’s definitely so common. he won’t use it around others not because it’s embarrassing but more because he kinda wants it to be just a thing between the two of you, honestly.

kenma; IT SLIPPED ONCE AND HE WAS LIKE. A DEER CAUGHT IN THE HEADLIGHTS. he calls you bunny!! sometimes, not always. when he wants something from you mostly. “pass me the water.” “no.” “bunny please :(” it works like magic every time.

oikawa; oh my god can you imagine??? he loves it so much because one, he thinks it’s such a cute nickname props to whoever decided let’s use pets as literal pet names, but also two, he thinks nothing describes you or fits you better. you are just his bunny :( his puppy :( he loves you :(

kageyama; timeskip kageyama calls you puppy. i have nothing more to say.

hinata; timeskip hinata calls you puppy. again, i shall say no more.

suna; hello !!! he loves to call you bunny and/or puppy. the feel of satisfaction he gets when he calls you that like ,,, he feels like you’re properly his yk? yk.

KITTEN ! —

kuroo; this one is for him and only him.

LOVELY ! — (maybe sweetheart too)

osamu; is there anything more beautiful than a tired osamu snuggling up to yoi and with a deep gravely voice saying, “missed you, lovely,” ? no there is not. it’s his favorite nickname for you, and he uses it all the time!! kisses your forehead as he leaves and tells you, “have a good day, lovely,” and comes back home and says, “hiya, lovely,” and tilts his head when you wanna talk to him about something like, “what’s up lovely?” cause you are his lovely, you’re his loveliest.

sugawara; i have no other explanation other than i can picture it perfectly. he thinks it’s the best choice of a pet name he’s ever chosen and thought of. and he loves the smile on your face whenever he says it, he thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever <3

BAE ! —

hanamaki; is it a joke? is it not? both.

okay im sure i missed so many boys but i can’t think of any rn bc it’s like. hella late :( but i wanted to put something out for you guys!! point is, if i didnt mention a boy and you want to know, send me an ask!! and if i didn’t mention a nickname and you want to know that too? send me an ask well!! ill be happy to answer it <3

love u all mwah <3

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mammonswhore · 3 years

Note

Soo what if the MC was suicidal and depressed, so when the boys threaten then and stuff (like how lucifer was gonna kill them when protecting beel and luke) and they don't care or they ask them to do it no balls xD

I like this prompt bc they will be like fucking shocked if MC was not afraid of them. Anyways always remember to check on your mental health🖤♥

Brothers react to an MC who doesn't care about dying.

✒Lucifer

He was in complete shock. Every individual who he threatened was quick to apologize and surrender to his will but this human wasn't?

He dislikes that type of attitude but is also very curious about what happened to them to be this way.

When MC tried to climb up to the attic and he threatened them they just simply said "you know anything can kill me,right? You are not special for that one,Lucifer"

What the actual fuck is going on here?

He forced them to leave anyways but he was thinking about their response all night.

No one talked back to him besides Satan and Belphie and the first person out of his family talking back to him was human. A human! He was annoyed to say the least.

When the relationship between him and MC progressed he become more concerned about it.

He tried to get the truth out of them subtly and without acting suspicious or worried but when they finally said "Lucifer if you want to ask me something, do it. Don't try to get answers out of me that way,it won't work"

When they finally revealed that they were not worried about dead because it will get to them anyway,Lucifer was sad.

He was not only sad because he knew that MC was going to die but because they were not a little bit worried about it.

A sudden wave of sadness gets into Lucifer's chest and he proceeds to hug his lover and tells them that he will take them to therapy.

✒Mammon

He was very happy about MC not caring about dying at first since he couldn't care less and he never properly threatened them as well so they never got to talk back at him.

But once when they were escaping from two witches,MC got hurt and they didn't care at all. Like they literally didn't say shit about the wound on their leg and it took Mammon almost half an hour to realize that the blood he was smelling it was from their wound.

"MC WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING? ARE YOU DUMB? COME ONE,HUMAN! W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO? I'M GOING TO HELP YOU,FUCK!"

Very stressed out about it,starts yelling about how they need to be careful with their lives because they are weaker than the average and things like it.

"Mammon I don't care about death,I'm kinda craving for it at this point"

His face drops. A sudden feeling he couldn't recognize was placing on him. He was worried but it was not the type he was used to feel around them.

The single thought of MC dying send shivers down his back. He was borried and it was not because Lucifer would kill him but because he couldn't stand that thought.

"Don't go saying things like that,MC... I don't want you to die,human"

He hugs them kinda afraid they might order him to let them die right there.

He is going to look for help and tell Lucifer about it so they both can keep an eye on MC in case of anything.

✒Levi

His first thought when he heard MC saying they wanted to die was "honestly same."

When he was about to kill them on the TSL quizz thing they didn't even flinch. They were not about to run,hide or beg.

When Lucifer stepped in,Levi was fucking shocked but angry at the same time.

"Damn normie,who do they think they are?"

When both of them formed a pact he became more worried about their health,not because they were his master but also his only friend and he was not about to loose them for some stupid shit.

When they hurt doing some stupid shit with him Levi freaks out and has a mini meltdown but tries his best to control his emotions to help his Henry.

"Stupid normie... Can't you be more careful? Dumb,dumb,dumb human... Agh"

He is mad but he is more worried than he is mad so he is trying his best to ask them how are they so stupid without being rude.

He became more careful with his words since he thought that maybe a little push will send them over the edge and make them commit suicide.

Very sharp when others point out that he takes care of them,gets defensive easily and will lock both of them in his room for a while.

✒Satan

He can not properly understand what's going on with them. His first thought is that they are very much dumb.

Gets annoyed by that attitude easily but never looses a chance to asks them if they are really that dumb or if they want to get killed.

"Oh sorry Satan,did my attitude happen to bother you?"

Ugh. The mocking tone in their voice made him furrow his eyebrows and spit venomous words.

"Indeed it does but I can easily understand why are you so reckless,you are defenseless against me and you are still trying to argue with me. I must say you have some guts MC but I don't think it's late for a good reminder that I can kill you easily."

And then they smirked and stepped closer to him with a daring attitude.

"Do it,anything can kill me and I will die eventually so your meaningless threats don't scare me not even a bit."

He was waiting for them to run,to hide and scream for help. But Satan was not expecting that answer.

His demon form unleashed and he was ready to attack but something inside of his his head told him that he was not capable of killing them. And when he realized that he just patted their head and went to his room.

Later on when they made the pact and MC helped him when coming to terms with Lucifer,he was quite scared for their daring attitude.

Every time they went out even if it was with one of his brothers,Satan will check on them with messages or calls every time he could.

To be honest,MC doesn't need this type of checks on them but appreciates it since Satan knows better than anyone how hard it can be to control themselves.

He still gets very pissed off when MC makes snarky comments,dares him for anything or that type of things but he still won't attack them because he loves them way more.

✒Asmo

He is no the type to threaten someone unless they are threatening him first but he was very tired of MC's attitude through the day and he snapped.

"Can't you remember your place,MC? Every single person around can kill you and you still seem to be as sassy as ever."

He was about to apologize with them about his words since he was not the type to talk to them like that but he was surprised when they talked back (again).

"Asmo if you haven't notice I truly don't mind getting killed here,it would be more interesting that dying in the Human Realm to be honest and also everyone is going to die and no one is going to remember me so fuck it."

That was worst. His eyes were very lost trying to figure out where did those words came from? What was going on?

"MC don't day that,please" he whispered very nervous.

Asmo hugged them and calmed himself down. Even for a demon who has seen a lot of people die he was not ready to loose MC and he was also not ready to hear those words fall from their mouth.

"Asmo calm down,please."

"You were joking,right? You don't think that about your life,don't you?"

He might not seem like it but he was completely worried for their health and well being. Being MC the only person he ever considered as a friend and possible lover,he could not stand for what they were saying.

He became more careful with what he said to them and what the others were allowed to say,if someone tried to insult them or make them feel like less he will snap right away of that meant MC will get rid of those awful thoughts.

✒Beelzebub

He threatened them about eating his food but they were unfazed about him,it was the first time he threatened them after making the pact and honestly,his reaction was totally wrong and he knew this and he was ready to apologize but he was shut down by MC's words.

"Do it,I honestly don't care."

What? MC what the hell are you saying?

He calms down and says that they shouldn't say things like that around his brothers because they might explode and actually kill them. He was worried,yes but he was more worried about eating something because his stomach was growling like crazy.

"Why would you say something like that? If it wasn't because we demons can't kill our master you will be dead now,MC."

Beel was stuffing chips into his mouth while watching MC think about an answer, more worried than before.

"I didn't mean to scare you,Beel. But I will die anyways so it's just a matter of time and if someone dared to make it right now I wouldn't stop them."

He feels the chills going through his back, the feeling of loosing someone he loves again was a lot to process and the fact that MC was unfazed and really sure about their words made him feel full suddenly.

"I don't want to loose you,MC. I know that you are a human and all but can't you just take care of yourself a little? I don't want to loose you." *sad beel noises*

Reassuring him that they will try to find help, MC hugs Beel and promises to try to stop this type of comments.

He was still very very worried about them so he was always around keeping an eye and ear on them so no one killed them.

✒Belphie.

This was after the attic events,he was still very unsure about MC's presence on his life but he was hanging on there still getting used to them.

Until they were assigned to wake him up from a 10 hour nap to eat something.

"You dumb human,I will rip your head apart of you wake me up again."

"It's not like if you haven't tried already now wake up and eat something or Lucifer will be pissed."

He was very amused,they were not afraid of him anymore and decided to talk back to him. But he still was shocked to say the least.

The human who he killed once was now giving him orders without a pact or relationship that established that he had to obey them. They had some guts,that was for sure.

When their relationship progressed and he became closer to MC,he was not going to stand for that type of comments.

"MC you can't go around saying that you want to die! It hurts to see you this way, jeez!"

"I can't help it,Belphie. Sometimes my thoughts just slip through my lips without me even trying."

Now that was something he was not expecting to hear. What did they mean? They really wanted to die that bad?

"Listen here you little shit,I already lost you once and I'm not going to loose you again so stop making those stupid comments or I will tell Lucifer to pay you a good therapist... Fucking idiot."

Belphie was worried even if he seems like he was just annoyed by them,he was even mkre worried than what he will like to admit.

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me barbatos #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me scenarios #obey me x reader

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snackhobi · 3 years

Text

a human touch, part I

Part [1] / 1.5 / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v.

then he turns up at your door.

warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧

a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!

Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.

One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within.

Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.

Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.

And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.

“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”

You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.

“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”

“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”

“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”

The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.

Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”

“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”

Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.

Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?

“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”

Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”

You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.

“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”

“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over.

“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”

You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.

No human could ever look this good.

“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”

Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.

“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”

You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”

V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”

Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.

The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”

You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”

You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”

“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight.

V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.

“After you, please,” he says.

You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.

“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.

“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”

You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”

You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.

“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”

The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”

“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”

You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed. It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on.

(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)

“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.

V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”

You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code.

“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”

V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.

“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”

V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.

“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”

You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time.

The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.

It's just depressing, really.

You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”

V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.

“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”

His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”

“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”

You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”

“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”

He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.

“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”

His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”

“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”

(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)

You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?

“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”

Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water.

“Purple.”

You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine.

You think it suits him better.

“Purple’s a lovely colour.” The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”

V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”

You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious.

He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new.

When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”

“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.

“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”

“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”

There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”

“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”

“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed.

Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.

“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”

V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.

When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”

“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?”

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”

The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone.

At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.

It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.

Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one.

“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”

“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”

“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”

He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”

You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.

The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.

“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.

By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.

You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.

The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”

You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.

“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”

He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they?

Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.

“Y/n.”

The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.

“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”

Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.

When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.

“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”

You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.

“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”

When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—

“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”

You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure��and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.

And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.

“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”

His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper.

The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.

“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.

There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go.

V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?

His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.

“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”

“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.

“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked.

He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—

You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.

“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”

“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”

V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.

“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”

V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”

Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least).

“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”

They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.

“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”

“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”

“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”

Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.

“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”

V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.

“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.

At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.

“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”

You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”

“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”

You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”

And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?

“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”

The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.

Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.

V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)

He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.

“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”

“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for.

His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good.

You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.

“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”

He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone.

“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.

Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.

Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend.

“Good morning.”

You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.

The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way.

You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.

Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.

V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”

Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.

“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.

“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”

Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.

As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”

Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”

V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”

Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God.

“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”

V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”

Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.

This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.

He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.

“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”

Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”

“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”

V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”

“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”

Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence.

“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”

The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”

V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”

V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”

V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.

(Of course, you never do.)

This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things.

The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.

“All done?”

“I think so.”

“Nice.” You feel content.

But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.

“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.

You promptly roll off the sofa.

Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.

Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”

The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.”

Ah.

“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.”

“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.

You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.

“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”

One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.

V looks utterly enraptured.

“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”

V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”

“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”

V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.

“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.

V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.

“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.

“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”

You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new.

But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.

Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.

V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.

“Go for it,” you say.

Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.

The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.

The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.

Just for an instant.

He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased.

The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—

But then V laughs.

His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.

“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”

“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples.

The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.

His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)

“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.

“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”

The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”

He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.

Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice.

You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.

So here he is.

(And here you are.)

It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”

Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.

V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.

You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.

You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.

“I won’t be long,” you promise.

When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.

“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”

You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off.

He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.

“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.

“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”

“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”

“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”

Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”

Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”

The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”

(Thank God.)

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.

He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.

“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.

The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.

And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.

(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)

Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

V tilts his head down to look at you.

“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”

Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.

“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”

(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.

“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”

So you do.)

(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—

“Morning.”

V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.

“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)

You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.

But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.

It’s… nice.

You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.

“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”

KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs.

“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.

“Oh?”

“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”

He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight.

Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality.

(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)

You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own.

(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.

Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)

(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#btswritingcafe #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #taehyung x reader #bts #taehyung x you #taehyung au #bts au #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #android taehyung #robot taehyung #look you know the drill by now: I don't know how to tag effectively #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist #dbh is so good guys. I love connor. like. an alarming amount.

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extravaguk · 3 years

Text

sex education 2.0

pairing: college!au, jungkook x reader

summary: "Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah."

wordcount: 9k

genre: smut - angst(? not rlly - fluff, like tons bc im a slut for fluff

rated: m (duh!2.0)

warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, just jk and tae being bros having bro convos, switch!reader, switch!jk, but mostly dom!jk, dirty talk, glimpses of poorly written bdsm, reader being a jealous and ‘insecure little bitch’ (her words, not mine),slapping (dont worry i tried to make it funny), how i met your mother spoilers (sorry im a gemini i spoil shit), spanking, degradation kink, back at it again with the spit kink, slight anal play, beware!of jungkook being a sweetheart, a lil mean at the end but a sweetheart nontheless.

read sex education here!

Three months of being in an actual commitment with Jeon Jungkook, your brother's partner in crime since the young age of five and, therefore, a common denominator throughout your childhood and teenage years, has proven to you a few things you never knew you would discover about the boy himself: Jeon Jungkook is definitely not what you thought him to be.

You thought growing up with him would've been enough telltale about everything that made Jungkook be, well, Jungkook. He wasn't as immature as you had believed prior to the beginning of your relationship, he was funnier than you remembered -although maybe you found him funnier now that Taehyung wasn't in the picture to interfere with infantile inside jokes that you never were able to grasp-, and smarter than he had ever let you known before. Although you're sure the main reason his grades had started to improve was solely you and the way you rewarded him by opening your legs everytime he passed an exam.

But above all, if there was something that had truly surprised you about Jeon Jungkook was the fact that he was truly an absolutely and undeniably softie.

You loved it. Loved the random scribbled love notes he sometimes left in your backpack before kissing you goodbye to leave for his own class, loved the Spotify playlists he made exclusively just for you -with genres that varied between sappy and romantic and wanting to tear your 'wet ass pussy' in two-, loved the late night texts filled with emojis telling you how much he missed you when both of you were too busy doing assignments and studying to see each other -even if it hadn't even been 48 hours since you last saw each other-. You loved how careful and sweet and thoughtful he was. You really did.

But.

"Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah." His mouth falls open and you supress a laugh. You really shouldn't be enjoying this so much, but there's something about Jungkook's reaction to his ego being bruised and that terribly adorable pout on his face that just makes your insides tingle with joy.

"What do you mean? I've had plenty of girls in bed before you, like a whole lot, and none of them have ever called me boring! They loved this adventurous and fun dick, alright? Why do you think-" you raise a brow, scrutinizingly. It still amazes you how with just a simple expression and no words needed, you can make all color from Jungkook's face banish and how quick he is to reach for your hand across his bed. "But I only love youuuu, and you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and my dick like, baby, have I mentioned how head over heels I'm for you?"

"Only like five times today." rolling your eyes again, you pull your hand from his to toy with the peperoni piece on your slice of pizza. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, he was starting to get truly concerned now. You couldn't possibly...?

"Are you not satisfied? I mean, do I not make you feel good or...?" there's clear worry in his voice and that makes you meet his eyes, shaking your head hurriedly. Now it's you who take his hand in yours.

"No! No, babe. I love sex with you! I love everything you do to me, I love how you treat me, I love how you make me feel. I'm a hundred percent satisfied, I swear, It's just..." you sigh, dropping your gaze to rub slow and reassuring circles to the ink adorning his skin. "All I'm saying is... I may also want to experience what all those girls have experienced with you, y'know... the not so vanilla stuff. But you always seem to be scared to try new things with me, and I don't know if it's because of m-"

"Baby," Jungkooks soft voice calls out to you, removing the pizza box in between the two of you to slide closer to you on the mattress. He craddles your face with his fingers, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. "_____, don't say that. I just don't ever want to cross any boundaries. I don't want to hurt you or do anything you might not like or regret later, you know that, right?" placing a small kiss on your lips, you hum in content nodding your head yes.

"I know that." you pull him for another brief kiss, oddly not caring about the faint taste of garlic and spice on them because that's what love will do to you. "But what if I do want you to hurt me? What if I want you to fuck my mouth with no mercy until I cry and slap my face after you've cum all over it while you call me a slut?" you pause, eyes meeting his through your eyelashes. "Or viceversa."

It's not that Jungkook is afraid. Because Jungkook is afraid of nothing in this world. He will murder any spider in his way, he will throw a punch to anyone who denies mint chocolate ice cream as the superior ice cream flavour -and he knows that means he will have to literally fight like the entire population on planet earth-, and he will Rey Mysterio you if you ever discredit or deny his incredible skills playing Overwatch.

Jeon Jungkook prides himself in being fearless in every aspect of his life. Except when it comes to you.

So yeah, maybe he was a little afraid. Because hearing you use the words 'choke', 'slap' and 'slut' in the same sentence did things to him that he didn't deem possible considering none of you were newbies anymore to intimicy. You have been together for three months, for God's sake, but you still made his cock twitch like the first day and he's sure in twenty years you'll have the exact same effect on him.

He didn't want his most primal instincts to overpower the respect and love he'd harboured for you since you were kids because at the end of the day, one, you were still his best friend's little sister, two, he appreciated you too much to ever cross any lines, and three, as cliché as it sounded, you were nothing compared to the girls he had been with previously. What he feels towards you cannot be compared to anything he had experienced before.

And fuck, was he in a predicament. Because you made him weak in his knees for you and you were not even aware of it. You were not aware of how badly he has wanted to explore and take things way further, way out of both his and your comfort zones. But he's terrified. He's terrified because all he wants is to to take care of you and what if he fails at the one thing he's swore to himself? What if he lets the darkest side of him consume him and at the same time consume you? What if he does actually hurt you, not just psichologically but also physically?

He would never be able to forgive himself. And neither could Taehyung.

And that, was also tormenting him.

Taehyung seemed fine with the two of you dating -or at least that blow to Jungkook's face seemed to ease things between them-, but Jungkook is not dumb and has felt his best friend slowly distancing himself.

Sure, they were still best friends and will ever will. Taehyung is loyal to Jungkook and Jungkook is loyal to Taehyung. Has been that way since they were five and that will not change just because Jungkook's caught feelings for his little sister.

But the phonecalls were not as often and not as long as they used to be; in rare occasions Jungkook could sense a certain type of awkwardness between them that really had never happened in their friendship, and sometimes Taehyung's jokes seemed to hold more truth than lightheartedness.

And to top it all off, Jungkook's dilemma regarding you was eating him alive and, usually he would turn to Taehyung for girl advice, only to later realize he was also frightened of doing that.

But a Friday night at 2 a.m, Jungkook decides he can't take it anymore.

"Sup, man." Taehyung's voice answers Jungkook's phone call on the second ring, like he always does.

"Hey, bro." Jungkook clears his voice, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Are you busy?"

"I don't know," his friend seems to be chewing on what Jungkook bets is red Skittles -yes, only the red ones- because he just knows him too well. "Are you busy still fucking my little sister?"

Taehyung chuckles at his own joke, but Jungkook doesn't. He knows there's no malice, but he can't help to think there might be. He settles for a sigh. "Yeah." he can hear some shuffling on the other side and the clicking of a computer mouse. Jungkook would also bet he was playing Among Us and he would lie if he said he wasn’t disappointed he hadn't called him to play with him. "Y'know what, it's not even important, I'll just call y-"

"Come on, man. You haven't even laughed at that and you usually laugh at everything I say even when no one else does." Taehyung swirls in his chair, his attention fully focused on his best friend. "Seriously, what's bothering you." Jungkook takes a deep breath, rubbing the side of his face.

"It's about _____."

"_____? As in, my little sister? Who you're fucking?"

"Tae, dude-"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Go on." Taehyung stiffles a laugh and waits patiently for Jungkook to continue.

"She um... Fuck, I hope this isn't weird, dude. I really do. She wants to like... rough it up in the bedroom, I guess? And I just... I don’t know... I'm terrified dude." There's silence filling the gap between Taehyung and Jungkook and Jungkook almost feels like throwing up.

"You're coming to me for sex advice... about my little sister?"

"I know, dude but... Who else I'm supossed to talk to? Jimin? Hoseok?" Jungkook sits up on his bed, an ugly knot beginning to form in his stomach. "I mean, you're my best friend," Jungkook swallows again, voice cracking. "...right?"

It's Taehyung's turn to sigh after a few seconds before he replies. "Forever and always, bro." His tone settles Jungkook's uneasiness. There's nothing but honesty in it. "Listen, Guk. I really don't know what kind of advice to give you because, literally, ew. But I do know my sister, and if that's what she wants and she's communicated with you about it, it’s because she trusts you. And I trust you more than anyone in my life. So there you go, man."

Relief washes all over Jungkook's body and he lays back on the bed again, heart not beating as hard as it was a few seconds ago.

"Thanks, dude." Jungkook smiles. "Sorry for calling you so late."

"No problem, bro." Taehyung smiles as well, swirling his chair back to his computer screen. A weight of his own being lifted. "Among Us next time?"

"Yeah, I'll let you know. Good night, bro."

Taehyung calls Jungkook's name before he can hang up. "Hey, man?"

"Yeah, man?"

There's a pause between them and then Taehyung speaks. "I love you, man."

Jungkook supresses the threat of tears about to spill because he knows Taehyung would try to bruise his other other eyebrow if he ever found out. Or hug him to death. Or both.

"I love you too, bro."

"This reminds me of the first time you gave me a blowjob." Jungkook chuckles, watching you get down on your knees between his spread thighs, make up free and sporting a similar low messy bun as that time he's mentioning, except this time you're wearing one of his hoodies engulfing your smaller frame. Proof that this time around, you're exclusively his and no one else’s.

"You mean the blowjob of your life." you giggle as you reach out to pull down his sweatpants, deligthed to see he decided on not wearing any underwear. Your spit on the back of your hand and immediately wrap it around the base of his rock hard cock while his own darts out to push the strands falling down your face behind your ear, heart eyes emoji looking down at you looking up at him.

Your tongue swirls around the tip timidly, swallowing the drop of precum oozing as he sighs heavily and lovingly. "Every blowjob you give me is the blowjob of my life." he unties your hair from the band holding it together because he prefers his fingers to be the hair tie, prefers to be the one to guide the bobbing of your head up and down his dick.

You hum in appreciation against him, cherry balmed lips wrapping fully around the head of his cock and he hums back. "Love seeing you on your knees for me with your pretty mouth stuffed, fuck." You take him deeper, closing your eyes.

Your hand moving accordingly to your mouth and your panties already wet, clinging to your folds. It's really not your fault Jungkook is the most delicious eye candy on earth and how fast can the mere sight of him make your pussy lips quiver. You slurp around the head obscenely , a moan of yours mixing with a moan of his. "Hands on your back."

You obligue, removing your hands and growing excited at the dominating low tone his voice exerts. The grip he has on your hair tightens and controls your motions, pushing you further down his dripping shaft until your nose hits his pubic bone. He holds you there, his own eyes closing shut and his dick twitching insde your mouth. A thrust of his hips make you gag and has one of your hands flying to tap his leg two times, letting him know you were in need for air.

He releases you, pulling you back until his cock is pulsating in front of you. He looks down at you, both breathless but the difference is you look so messy. Eyes watery, chest moving heavily and saliva leaking from your lips.

Yeah, there was a reason Jungkook hasn't been like this with you before. The sight of you submitting completely and looking so nasty was too much for him to handle. He might never want to see you any other way than this.

"Isn't this what you wanted, huh?" the free hand that had been supporting his weight on the matress grasps your face harshly, making you lock eyes with him.

"I thought you wanted me to choke you with my cock like a little whore?" you nod your head eagerly, unable to form words. Your pussy throbs, prompting you to rub your thighs to get some sort of relief as his thumb smears the spit adorning your lips. You're quick to envelop it in the warmth of your mouth, an involuntary moan leaving your throat. "Such a pretty slut," he lets his cock slap against your cheek, removing his thumb to move his hand back to his previous position. "Open again."

You do, his length entering your mouth again -that you gladly accept- and then he's shoving you down by your hair. "Shit, gonna fuck your mouth so good..."

And he does, not holding back anymore, his hand thrusting your head along his shaft until your throat tightens around him repeteadly, struggling for breath. But you take it, you take the aggresiveness and the degradation because fuck, you've been waiting for so long to know what this feels like. To have Jungkook be mean and have this type of control and power over you and you're enjoying it a bit too much.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna cum, leave your mouth open." he releases on your tongue, not able to look away from the image of you with tears falling down your eyes and mouth drenched with him and your spit, some of his cum staining down your chin and the corners of your lips that he gathers with his thumb and pushes back into your mouth. He groans, watching you swallow all of it like a good girl, your tongue grazing around his digit for the remainings, gaze not leaving his. "Let me grab my phone real quick, I need to take a picture of this."

You were definitely not the jealous type.

You prided yourself on being able to recognize when your behaviours were due to your own insecurities and removing all sorts of feelings of uncertainty from your mind. You never liked toxic patterns or the glamorization of them and your relationship with Jungkook was proof. You knew relationships were supossed to be based on blind trust and faith in your partner and yours definitely reciprocated in the same way.

"So can anybody tell me why Eunha is basically all over my boyfriend right now?" you wish you could blame your state on Hoseok's weed, who's sitting on the left side of the couch right next to you at the frat party. You really wish you could have an explanation for the way your heart tugged in such a weird way and your stomach swirled dangerously until almost making you nauseous. You really tried to blame your overthinking on the joint you had just passed to your friend.

You knew it was bound to happen someday, especially considering Jungkook had always been a ladies' man and the kind of attraction from both men and women he was able to manifest, willing or unwillingly. You just never thought it would happen so soon and in such way that made you clench your fists so tight and your nails dig into the palm of your hands so painfully.

"I mean, they did have like a long fling a few years ago, didn't they?" Seulgi, sitting on your right, chimes in.

That was true. Longer than most flings Jungkook ever had before you.

"Yeah, before she dumped him." Hoseok adds.

Your eye twitches and your jaw contracts. Because that, was also true, and it was mostly what was bothering you so much.

Had it been Jungkook the one to move away from his situationship with Eunha like with most girls, you wouldn't have such a problem with the way she's shamelessly leaning towards him from across the room. Or the way she's twirling a strand of her hair between one of her fingers while battling her lashes. Or the way she's hysterically laughing at whatever he was saying, because your boyfriend was funny, but he was not that funny.

You were not the jealous type, and Jungkook definitely wasn't giving you any reason to be, because as coquettish as the blonde was being or as provocatively as she was pushing her tits into his arm, he politely keeps his distance and tries to also engage with Jimin in conversation, leaving her pouting. But that wasn't enough to not make you start seriously questioning your feminist ethics right now.

"Wait, you're not jealous, are you?" Seulgi turns to you, offering you the joint -how long had you been focusing your attention on Jungkook and Eunha to not realize it was your turn again to smoke?-. You take it, hesitating between answering right away or taking a hit before doing that. You were never a good liar. You look between your two friends who are looking back at you with their eyebrows raised.

"I-" you close your mouth and run your fingers through your hair. "Maybe? I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't like it one bit."

"Aw, babe." Seulgi squeezes your knee, eyes showing you sympathy. "Jealousy is a natural response to any relationship."

"I know..." you take the joint in your hand, taking a long drag before letting the smoke out. "I just don't want to sound like an insecure little bitch!" you whine. "I don't want to be like 'Oh, why would Jeon Jungkook, a God of the Olympus, dare give his attention to a peasant as unworthy as me!?' Like no, he's just a man. A little less mediocre than most but a man nontheless. I'm not going to doubt myself or other women just because he's more beautiful than most, and hotter, and funnier and has a massive co-" you notice you're getting carried away by the look of disgust in Hoseok's face and Seulgi trying to hold back a laugh.

"Anyways, he's lucky to have me. We're both lucky to have each other but sometimes I feel like I might be the luckiest out of the two. And seeing Eunha looking so pretty and throwing herself at him is triggering me because..." you pause to take a deep breath and lounch back on the couch. "What if he realizes one day that I'm luckier than he is and he could be luckier with someone else?"

There's, ironically, a long silence. Ironically because the sound of Travis Scott making the walls tremble is anything but, until Hoseok speaks.

"I think you feel that way because you still haven't seen how that boy looks at you, _____." and then he motions to the spot from across the room you had been observing for too long, the spot where Jungkook is now glancing at you after noticing your detectable distress, with a frown on his features.

'You okay?' he mouthes, his fist raising in the air in a thumbs up, questioningly.

Your heart jerks, and not out of bitterness or envy caused by a girl trying to get your boyfriend's attention. Because his attention is always entirely on you, no matter how many feet are separating the two of you.

'Yes' you mouth back, with a nod of your head and an encouraging smile that has formed itself on your face. He beams as well at you. Mouthes an 'I love you' and puckers his lips in a flying kiss that makes you giggle. You mimic him, your heart tight against your chest.

Hoseok is right. You have nothing to worry about.

Jungkook is in love with you. Sometimes, he thinks, he's too in love with you.

"Can't believe I'm letting you do this."

"Can't believe you're such a pussy."

Jungkook huffs in annoyance. He would smack your ass right now if his hands weren't restricted by a scarf of yours he had never seen before to your bedpost. He would also send you a mean look if his eyes weren't covered by the only tie he owned and had so generously lent to you.

When you mentioned you wanted to try this, he expected you to be in this position. Not the other way around.

He's sprawled on your bed, only his boxers covering him as your legs straddle his waist and you tighten the hold of the scarf around his wrists sternly. He winces and manages an 'Hey!' He knows you're only wearing your panties because he can't feel anything else and he's felt one of your naked tits brushing his face as you tied him up. He also tried to catch one of your nipples in his mouth as a form of punishment, to no use because you swiftly backed away from his attempt.

"I've never been a bottom before, this is new for me." he says. He really doesn't mind any of this. He's just not used to it. He knows he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little bit, even if he'd rather be the one to have you completely unmoving and naked beneath him. Especially now that you're skimming your nails up and down his torso.

"Mm, good to know." your lips follow the path your fingers created, from the center of his chest up, moving steadily and tracing soft kisses over his flesh.

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." you croon, dragging your tongue from the pulse of his neck to his earlobe, nails scraping lightly over his left nipple. Jungkook shudders, air sucked in through his teeth as his mouth opens on its own. Taking advantage of this, you place a kiss on the corner of his lips before slipping your tongue inside.

He answers simultaniously, his own tangling with yours, swallowing each other's moans. Your hips set a slow peace, clothed cad core griding over the length poking between your thighs. His hips move unvoluntarily, trying to find some sort of friction to make up for the fact that his hands are unavailable to knead your ass and pull you closer, if that was even possible.

You separate from him, raising on your knees. Jungkook whines in protest, hips buckling up from the mattress to try to meet yours again.

"Jungkook, I'm serious, stay still!"

"I take it back." his voice shaky and hands straining against the tight hold the scarf you tied around has on them. "I don't like this. Untie me so I can fuck you, babe." he complains. You sit on his tiny waist, your thighs trying to stop his movements.

You take a moment to assess him. He looks too beautiful for his own good: hair courtaning his forehead, biceps bulging and abs flexing. You can't see his eyes but you know they might be glassy. You bite your lip to supress a whine of delight. You almost consider doing as he says. Almost.

But you mantain your ground. Your jealousy from the other night had been crawling slowly from within these past few days and since you couldn't take it out on Jungkook any other way because he really wasn't to blame, you figured you'd try something new to punish him and let some of your supressed anger vanish.

Twisting your body back to pull down his boxers, not all the way, just enough to have his cock springing free from the confines of the fabric and slapping against your asscheeks.

"Has toxic masculinity seriously polluted your brain so much you can't take this seriously?" you fall forward, one of your hands balancing you beside his head as the other wraps around his neck, a tentative hold not yet to constrict his breathing.

He gulps, his body's tense and his Adam's apple is prominent under your touch. All he can see is black but he'd do anything to watch your pretty tits bouncing in front of his face. "I don't like this conversation either." he pouts.

"Then why are you so hard?" you grin, holding yourself back from laughing as he hesitates for an answer. You lean closer, mouth against his ear as you whisper. "I'm so wet right now, I could take you just like this. No lubrication at all and my pussy would just swallow your dick." Feeling his girth still between your ass flutter, clearly affected by the sultry tone of your voice. You remove your hand from his neck seeing as he has stopped moving obediently. Reaching back, you slide your panties to the side and align your entrance to the head of his leaking cock.

"Fuck, baby, please~" Jungkook's pleads fills the air, hips desperately back in motion and sliding just a few inches inside your drenched heat. The warmth envoles him instantly, your pussy pulsates around him and neither of you can't help the in synch groans tearing from your throats.

"Just the tip" you lick your lips, your voice betraying you as you resist the urge to glide the rest of his lenght inside your quivering core.

"Just the tip, my ass."

Out of sudden, Jungkook is swiftly lifting his hips from the matress, sinking all the way in. You cry as your body jumps forward, face hidden in the juncture of Jungkook's sweaty neck. His thick cock stretches you out as nice and deep and perfectly as he always does. You mewl. This was not supossed to happen at all.

"See? This is what you really wanted." you can hear the chuckle threatening to spill from his lips, anger starting to boil inside of you again.

Regaining a little bit of your lost control, you lift yourself on your trembling knees and sit back again, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix. You groan in unision, placing your hands on the hard planes of his chest and steadying yourself to try to reclaim your dominance. Finding it troublesome, because Jungook is set on having it his own way, his thrusts meeting yours in perfect synch.

You really shouldn't feel your climax approaching so soon but somehow battling for control while bickering with Jungkook is about to send you over the edge and that's making you even more annoyed.

"I swear to God, Jungkook. If you don't stop moving and shut the fuck up..." your murmur through gritted teeth, jaw slackened and eyes fluttering shut.

"What?" he spats, breathing rugged and voice coarse. "If I don't shut up, you'll wha-"

The sound of a sharp smack echoes inside your room and Jungkook's movements freeze on the spot. His head is turned to the side from the impact, and a faint print of your fingers is adorning his already stinging cheek. None of you mutter anything for a few seconds, until concerned words start to rush out of you.

"Ohmygod, Jungkook, I-"

"Did you just slap me?" Jungkook is unmoving, his mouth agape and you can picture the incredulous expression his eyes might be oozing. "Baby, what the fuck?!" You're mortified. Your hands cover your mouth and your eyes, wide open, stare down at him although he can't stare at you back.

"Babe, I don't know why I did that, you wouldn't stop talking and I know that's not an excuse but it-"

"It was fucking hot." a breathy laugh in disbelief leaves his chest. Your forehead creases, hands falling down to your chest to try to steady your incessant heartbeat. His tongue darts between his pearly teeth, a smug smirk on his features. An eyebrow of yours raises as you size him up, the realization that his body is completely motionless now hitting you.

Lurging forward, you pinch his jaw between your fingers, your hips carry on their grinding on their own accord. He releases a raspy moan, your walls clenching around him as another hit strikes his cheek, softer this time.

"You gonna be good to me?" you mutter against his lips. He nods slowly, his mouth salivating as your hips swirl on top of him. He blindly tries to reattach his mouth to yours, but you dodge him, going for the skin of his clavicle instead. "Can I fuck you slow like this until you're filling me with your cum?" He squirms when he feels you sucking a pretty purple bruise on his flesh, your cunt dropping all the way down his cock, leisurly grinding against his pelvic bone, looking yourself to find some relief to your clit.

"Ah!" his head tilts back, back slighlt arching as you soothe the mark on his neck with your tongue. "That m-might be s-sooner than you think, babe" he admits timorously, swallowing the lump in his throat, the veins on his neck on full display.

You sigh in content because, thankfully your orgasm is also closer than he thinks it is. "M-me too-" you gasp, your face buried on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush his ebony hair, nails gently scrapping his scalp as you keep the tortuous movements of your hips against his, his girth hitting that spot just right everytime until you feel the knot in your tummy finally snapping. "C-cum, J-Jungkook, I-m-"

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he has been holding back from it for a while now, not really willing to admit he was enjoying this as much as he was. With a thrust of his own fused with the way your pussy is tightening around him it's enough to send him over the edge, an unpredicted cry emanating from his vocal chords harmonizing with your own, his whole body tensing as your walls milk every single drop of his cum.

For several minutes you stay just like that. Jungkook's hands still tied, blindfold still on, his mouth still agape as his chest rises and falls until his breathing becomes steady again. And you, on top, your fingers tangled in his dark locks, your breath fanning against his neck and his release dripping down your thighs. You stay like that until your body starts shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

Jungkook tilts his head towards yours, eyebrows furrowing and eyes still covered.

"What was that noise?" you manage through your giggle fit. "'Aaah!'" You've never made a noise like that before, I can't- it was so funn-"

Even while still being strained and blindfolded and with you making fun of him, a loopsided goofy smirk starts making an appearence on Jungkook's features.

Fancy dinner parties were never your thing.

Wearing heels that were too high -specifically to try to match Jungkook's height-, a new expensive dress that you were surely going to return as soon as the event was over because you definitely could not afford it and socializing with Jungkook's clique was definitely not the way you envisioned your Saturday night going.

At least Jungkook had barely been able to keep his hands for himself at the sight of you wrapped in emerald green silk and lace. But even that couldn't make you feel less uncomfortable and out of place.

Yugyeom, one of Jungkook's friends, had definitely more money than your boyfriend had previously let you know. Apparently, being a 'lil rich' as Jungkook had mentioned meant booking a luxurious restaurant to hold a dinner party with at least fifty people who looked just as 'lil rich' as Yugyeom's Gucci tuxedo.

'It'll be alright babe. Yugyeom always insists on celebrating his birthday like it's an Oscar after party. We'll just eat some of that disgusting caviar and then head home to watch Netflix, I swear'.

And yes, caviar was gross, but so was the fact that Jungkook had failed to mention a certain someone would also be making an appearence.

After introducing you to a few of his friends and realizing that Mingyu's frendliness and amiability helped you feel more relaxed, he had excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and his friend to entangle in a heated conversation about How I Met Your Mother's finale season.

You were thankful for Mingyu's humble nature and easygoing talk for a few minutes until you finally spotted your boyfriend making his way back into the room, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge a group of friends from his class.

Again, you wouldn't have such a problem with a certain blonde if she would just stop looking at Jungkook with stars in her eyes and pressing her cleavage against him while playing with her hair. It was hard to keep track of your conversation with Mingyu while Eunha was standing right next to your boyfriend and seemingly ogling up at him. It was also hard to not let your mind waver to dangerous territory when you took notice of how disgustingly good they looked together.

Just two attractive people who would look disgustingly good together.

Mingyu's voice makes you turn back to him.

"...I don't know, like, Barney was a womanizer until Robin, you know? He changed for her! They were just perfect for each other, but they had to throw it all away by killing the mother and then making Robin marry Ted? And Barney going back to his old ways?" Mingyu sounds exhasperated and you would laugh and find it cute if your stomach wasn't tugging again in a way that made you regret drinking so much wine so fast. Specially after his last statement.

"That's what I'm saying." you mumble, turning your attention back to your boyfriend in the crowd.

Jungkook wouldn't go back to his old ways. He loves you. There's nothing to worry about.

But as you watch him start to make his way towards you, you also watch the way Eunha grabs the sleeve of his blazer to pull him back. She leans in, whispers something in his ear to which he just shakes his head, says something that it's impossible to decipher from here you're standing and simply walks in your direction.

Still, as much as you tried to be neutral and objective and not a 'jealous little bitch', it's almost impossible to hide the sour expression on your face. It's impossible to unclench your jaw throughout the entire evening or lose the too tight grip on your glass of wine. Even when Jungkook whispers in your ear if you're okay, you merely nod yes. You avoid eye contact with him and everytime he tries to slip your hand into his, you dodge him it by wrapping your arms around yourself, claiming how cold it is.

Jungkook is not dumb.

He know something's up but he's also not stupid enough to cause a scene in public or preassure you into talking. So he settles on wating and being patient. Even as he slips his jacket on your stiff shoulders with pouty lips and his eyebrows drawn together, all he does is press a small kiss to the back of your neck. It takes all power within you to not throw yourself in his arms.

But as midnight approaches and it's time to leave, you notice a change in Jungkook's behaviour as you say your goodbyes. His hand on your back is not just a soft caress, instead, his fingers pull you closer, dig into your skin as he drags the both of you to where his car is parked. Now it's him who avoids your gaze. His tensed jaw and his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek is a visible indicator that Jungkook is pissed.

You know his body language as well as he knows yours. And now, as he opens the door of the passanger seat so you can slide in, the guilt and the remorse of acting cold towards him for hours is finally dawning on you.

"Are you going to tell me now what was that about?" when he closes his own door shut, he doesn't bother to put his seatbelt on. Just grips the steering wheel as he turns to you.

"I-I don't know what you're t-"

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" he laughs, not a bit of humour in it. "I know scenes like this make you feel uncomfortable but I actually thought everything was going fine. I leave you for five minutes with Mingyu and when I come back, you won't look at me, won't touch me, won't act like I'm your boyfriend. Like I did something wrong. So please, _____, tell me, what's going on?"

You know there's no excuse for the way you acted. You know it's not Jungkook's fault he attracts attention and it most definitely not his fault if an ex of his is still hung up on him. You know it's your own fault and you know you should not try to excuse yourself and fight back. You'd swore to yourself you'd push down any feelings of jealousy deep inside until they disappeared. But something about tonight makes you explode.

"Why was she being all over you?"

Jungkook's face twists in confusion. "What? Who?"

"Eunha! Who the fuck else? She was all over you a few weeks ago at Minghao's party, and she was all over you tonight!" your voice is louder than you would've liked but at this point all you care about is letting it all out.

"This is what all of that was about? Eunha?"

"Yes! I've seen her on campus as well! Always trying to get your attention! I don't care that you have friends in common, but specially tonight, she whispered something to you and she was looking at you like she-"

"Who cares how she looks at me? All you need to care about is how I look at you because the only thing I care about is how you look at me!" Jungkook exclaims, clearly exhausted of this conversation.

You sink in your seat and look away as the knuckles on his hands turn white from gripping the steering wheel.

"_____," he calls you gently, but his voice mantains a stern tone to it. "We don't do jealousy. I thought we were supossed to trust each other blindly. Have I not proved to you how sickenly in love with you I am? Do you not trust me and what I feel?"

"I-... Of course I do. I-just... I don't know. You're right. That was uncalled for." you wrap yourself in the warmth of Junkook's blazer, trying to make his scent wash away any ugly resentment and guilt in your body.

"Wanna know what she said to me?" a rethorical question, because he was going to tell you anyway. "She asked me if I was going to stay for Yugyeom's after party, way past midnight. Wanna know what I said?" he turns to you. "I said no, I'm spending the night with my girlfriend."

None of you say nothing after that. He just puts his seatbelt on and starts driving. It's not too much of a far drive to his dorm, but the silence and the awkwardness makes it feel so much longer than it should be. You don't remember the last time Jungkook was mad at you. Actually, you don't think Jungkook has ever been mad at you. He loved the banter, loved to tease you, loved being competitive with you. But you had never seen him being avoidant of you. And that feeling tears your heart on the seat of his car.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask, voice barely audible, when the car stops at a red light. His dark eyes meet yours, his face immediately softening as he studies your expression. Then he picks one of your small hands in one of his big ones, brings it to his lips and lightly kisses your knuckles. He communicates with his eyes what he doesn't with words and it's enough to make you feel secure, at least for now.

When you finally arrive at Jungkook's room, he holds the door ope for you and lets you walk in, but he's still unusually quiet. So much so, you start to worry you might have fucked up big time.

You stand there, not knowing what to do as you watch him sit down on his bed, slipping his shoes and socks off and loosening the tie around his neck. His hair, that was perfectly styled a few hours ago, is now messy by the amount of times his hand has pushed it back. He looks too yummy, and you hate the fact that tension and a little bit of fighting has managed to make him look as delectable.

You ignore the heat starting to form in your belly because now it's not the time to be horny. Not when you still need to apologize and make things right. He's rolling the sleeves of his black shirt down his forearms when you decide to speak.

"Jungkook, I'm very sorry." you start, as you remove his blazer off you and place it on the chair right in front of his desk. "I don't know why I acted the way I did. I dont get easily jealous and I really don't think I am but..." your throat constricts your words for a moment. "The more I love you, the more frightened I get when I think that one day you'll realize I'm better off as your best friend's little sister. I-I dont know what I'd do with myself if that ever happene-"

"Take off your dress." Jungkook's impassive voice and emotionless face startles you and you freeze on your feet.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?"

His elbows rest on his knees and he's holding your stare with his. His doe eyes lack that free spirited and amusing glint they usually have. He looks bored, scrutinizing you. He's not challenging you. He's commanding you because he knows you will obligue.

That's why you gulp and slowly slide the straps of your dress down your arms until the fabric pools at your feet. His eyes waver along your naked breasts, nipples perking up like the mere intensity of his gaze is ordering them to. He doesn't make a move and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He doesn't compliment you like he normally would at the sight of you almost naked in front of him.

His lack of words make you feel insecure, regardless of how turned on you are. You're used to Jungkook being reassuring, you're used to his lighthearted jokes and his playful kisses in the bedroom. But you're not used to Jungkook telling you what to do and keeping his distance while doing so. Your arms move on their own to hide yourself.

"Don't. If you hide from me, I swear to God, _____." he watches you as you let your arms fall back to your sides, your chest moving up and down while you struggle to breathe. You can't deny Jungkook's gruff voice and his eyes studying every bit of skin available to him like he hasn't seen you naked before is not making your underwear stick to your lower lips.

"JK, I just don't think this is the right moment to-"

"On my lap." your heart skips a bit, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

"Jungkook-"

"I said, get on my lap, face down." he says again, this time slower. One of his eyebrows quirk up. "Or would you rather me drag you myself? Or make you crawl?"

Your eyes widen, and your feet are quick to approach him. Your nipples tingle, your core is throbbing and your cheeks are adorned by a beautiful blush that Jungkook doesn't miss.

He doesn't move until you're in front of him, just to help you lower yourself on his lap, your cheek and your nipples touching the mattress and your ass up. You close your eyes when Jungkook skims his fingertips over your skin, his carressing relaxing your body until he eases your nerves a bit. He sighs when he notices the way that poor excuse of a thong sticks between your folds as his strong hands massage your buttcheeks.

He's taking his time, his fingers gliding over your soft skin, his breathing too calm for your liking. Until one palm of his hand collides sharply against your right cheek, sending your body forward. You gasp, the stinging making your body want to pull away. But he's quick to catch both your wrists behind your back, keeping you in place.

"Jungk-!"

Another smack, this time harder, on the same cheek.

"Did I give you permission to talk?"

Smack. This time on the left cheek. Your back arches on its own will, presenting more of your ass to him unwittingly. Your eyes squeezed shut and bite the inside of your cheek as you rub your thighs together. You keep quiet as his hand lands another blow on your ass.

"That's a good girl. Now," his voice is gentler this time as his hand soothe your reddened cheeks. "do you think what you did tonight was okay?" you say nothing, only a mewl slips past your lips. Another smack. "Answer me."

"No." you lick your lips, anticipating more.

"Do you think it was funny to pull a stunt like that?"

Smack.

"N-no!"

"No, it wasn't. Spread your legs for me." you do as you're told and he finally pulls down the drenched piece of lace down your thighs. He leans forward, spreads your cheeks with one hand as he lets a glob of spit fall directly into your lips. He makes you gasp when his fingers start sliding up and down your folds slowly.

"I've had to put up with this kind of behavour since the day you begged me to fuck this tight, virgin pussy like the little slut you are." you whine, face red as humiliation starts to creep in. Jungkook slips one finger in, pumping it slow and easy. Your hips move to take him deeper.

"I tried to be a gentleman, you know?" he says, adding a second finger. "I've tried to treat you nice and sweet and be the best boyfriend I could be to make you happy and keep you satisfied in every sense of the word." his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tortuous circles.

"Been compeletely whipped since I kissed you for the first time. Haven't looked at other girls because I just can't when I have everything I want to look at right in front of me." murmuring, he starts to get lost your pussy and how it swallows his fingers and how obscene you look and sound, dripping right on his trousers. He watches his fingers moving in and out, almost hypnotized. "Yet, somehow..." he pulls away. You whimper in protest.

"Somehow, you still seem to doubt me." His hand smacks your cheek again, wet fingers spreading your essence all over your skin.

"P-please, please." you cry. You miss Jungkook's sadistic smile before he releases the grip on your wrists, still keeping you on his lap. Both his hands spread your cheeks now, and another glob of spit falls right into your asshole. His fingers find your cunt again, easily taking you almost over the edge.

"If you could only look at yourself right now... All spread out for me like a needy whore in heat" his thumb teases your unexplored rim, hesitantly, coating it with his spit and your own arousal. He presses in slowly. You gasp, your body tenses and Jungkook stills his movements immediately. There's silence for a few seconds.

"Too far? Should I stop?" and there's your Jungkook, concern lacing his voice. His free hand caresses your back, your body relaxing, laying back down obediently. His fingers are still inside you and his thumb is still asking for entrance. He leans forward, placing a small but comforting kiss on the bruised skin of your right asscheek.

"Go on." you whisper, but he doesn't move right away. This time, it's his own body that tenses momentarely before going back to his tranquil demeanor. He breathes through his noise as his fingers pick up where they left off.

"Yeah?" you swear you hear him swallow a lump in his throat. "Gonna let me finger this tight little ass like a good slut? Mm?" his thumb slides deeper, slightly stretching you out while his fingers work your pussy in a solid rhythm. "Gonna let me stretch you out little by little until I can open you up with my cock one day?" his movements speed up, fingers sliding out of your cunt to play with your clit and his thumb slowly moving in and out. "You don't wanna talk now? You just want to stay silent while I fuck your ass and-"

And then you're cumming, so unexpected it takes both of you by surprise. Your hands grip onto Jungkook's sheets, your thighs clasp around his hand as you scream his name. He doesn't stop though. He rides you through it, encouraging words mixing with filthy insults that prolong your orgasm until you're squirming beneath him.

"Shit, baby... My hand is soaked." he mumbles, as he slowly removes his fingers and thumb from you. "You okay?"

You faintly nod your head yes, not able to find words through your dry mouth and your pussy still convulsing.

"Good. Get on the bed. On your hands and knees."

You somehow manage to slip from his lap and position yourself as he says. Except your arms and legs are shaking. Although the sound of Jungkook undoing his belt and his hands gripping your hips and bringing you towards him until the head of his dick is at your entrance is enough to make you forget about how tired your body is. You surrender to him, not even bothering to hold yourself up on your arms, your fingers crumbling the sheets and your face buried into the pillow.

When his cock enters you, a pitiful moan leaves your mouth. His thick lenght slides into your heat, filling you perfectly as he always does. It's a wonder how well he fits inside you.

"Such a perfect slut for me. Always ready for me to do whatever I want with her, since day one. So tight, so ready. So, so perfect. All mine." he talks as measured as he moves, dragging each word out as his hips find a nice tempo.

Then he doesn't move for a while with his dick buried between your walls, and you know he's holding himself back. You turn your head slightly to look at him. He catches your eyes instantly. Sees your mascara running down your watery eyes, and your smudged lipstick and your messy hair and then he's giving you that look. That look that lets you know that Jungkook is, indeed, whipped for you. Leaning in, he presses his shirt-covered chest to your sweaty, naked back. His cock dives deeper, not an ounce of space between you as he lovingly kisses your cheek until his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you hard but soft, tongue meeting yours for the first time since you entered the room. Jungkook is not a man of words. He's silly, and a jokester, and finds it difficult to express how he's feeling. But when he kisses you, or looks at you, when he touches you, or when he makes love to you, even if it's as dirty and filthy as right now, he's always able to transmit exactly what he can't vocally.

He's telling you there's no other place he'd rather be than here, with you.

When he pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, his hand moves to the back of your head, fisting your hair in a tight hold that makes you arch your back and desperately moan for him.

"A-and you're mine." you sob.

It's like something snaps inside of him. He growls and suddenly his hips lose control. He nails you against the mattress, his grip on your hair pulling your head back, his lips against your ear as your cunt clenches around his cock.

"Just yours. All yours." his grunts send shivers down your spine and you're close again, even in the painful and uncomfortable position your body is in. Being at Jungkook's mercy and him being at yours is enough to have you seeing starts.

"This is the only pussy I want wrapped around my cock. Your lips are the only ones I want to kiss. You're the only one I want between my arms." It only takes two flickers of Jungkook's free hand against your nub and his next words to tip you over. "You belong to me, and I belong to you."

You squeal as you come, and Jungkook bites your shoulder to keep himself from doing so as well as he follows shortly. He fills you up with his release, but he doesn't release you from him. He wraps his arms around your frame, both your bodies becoming soft as he rolls over to one side with your back still pressed to his chest, cock still inside you. His lips find their way to the skin of your shoulder and the back of your neck. His breath fanning your flesh makes you smile.

"That is so not like my sister. I'm telling you, she never gets jealous." Taehyung says over the phone. He's munching on something again and Jungkook would bet all the money in his wallet again he's eating Skittles. Red Skittles. "So, everything cool now?"

"Yeah, man. We just talked it out, you know?" Jungkook's gaze falls on you, laying on your stomach on his bed, laptop iluminating your face, earbuds on and your head moving to whatever music you're listening to. Jungkook would bet all the money in his bank account it's Shape Of My Heart by The Backstreet Boys. Or at least that's what he's been able to guess so far. He was never good at reading lips, specially when trying to guess boybands' lyrics.

Friday's nights meant late 1990's/early 2000's pop nostalgia for you. It meant shaking his head and spending the following week trying to get Britney and Xtina songs out of his brain for him. Although lately, he hadn't been trying that hard. Jungkook sighs in content, not really trying to cover the fact that he might be looking at you like a starstruck teenager. Which, it was totally fair because that's exactly how he feels about you. "Communication is key, bro."

He keeps watching you until your head perks up and catch him gawking. You smile at him and he smiles back.

"By 'communication is key' you mean you actually fucked my little sister silly right? Bro, I swear, I'll block your numb-"

"Sorry man, gotta go."

"And now you're gonna fuck her silly again, right? You son of a b-"

Jungkook hangs up just as you take your earbuds off, making his way to you to kiss you silly.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #FINALLY #took me a month to gain motivation and inspiration back!!!

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