#and you just failed to do the bare minimum which was nOT GET IT DIRTY WITH YOUR GRUMMY LITTLE HANDS

[star-mum]

And this is why ppl don’t lend books

[wild-magic-oops]

People really be bending backwards in order to defend Larian and the consistent way that Gale is treated worse than other companions. Truly baffling behavior, but I guess that's what happens when people can't extend the same amount of care to characters other than their favs, and think Larian is amazing for doing what should be the bare minimum in the industry actually (but the industry is so shit that people are ready to praise and defend any studio which doesn't try to rob them while spitting in their faces). Not criticizing obvious flaws won't get you a better product next time, and since I'm a petty person - I hope everyone who's telling people it's not a big deal now have the next character they're really into be the one done dirty by both the creators and the fandom.

Another thing I've never seen anyone bring up is how Gale is specifically the only companion whom Durge can kill due to an urge (which is even worded in a way which you can't guess the outcome of). Where's the urge option to kill Astari*n while he attacks you hm? Or that's right, there isn't one. Guess the fuck why. And retaliating while attacked makes a ton more sense, but sense is not smth that Larian bothers with much when it comes to their preferences.

And people choosing to indulge the urge and explaining how it's in character... I bet the majority would be finding loopholes real quick if it was their fav getting killed instead. Double standards is smth that really irks me and they're just so apparent in this fandom, it's exhausting.

Gale is also a companion you can accidentally kill instead of recruit by failing a simple dice roll. That's all it takes.

Both of those instances are smth very much outside of Gale's writer's control, so immediately the bias is showing, how easy it is to kill him.

So please, by all means, keep defending a company against the fans' criticism based on clear observations (which other people have brought up, not specifically what I talked about in this post) which you just don't want to acknowledge, I'm sure that'll work out so nicely for you the moment your preferences stop aligning with theirs.

And if you're a Gale fan who doesn't care and think people are overreacting - you do you, but the way Gale's exploding ending is treated gives really ugly irl implications which can't be ignored. Characters are fictional, but the way certain types are treated speaks of irl biases, and if you can't realize that, I really don't know what to tell you honestly. But aside from all that - professionals shouldn't let their biases show. But they did and continue to do, and that alone is definitely 100% worthy of criticism.

[riverofrainbows]

I am so sick of the moralisation of cleanliness.

It's everywhere. You can go in any comment section and see people judge and have no understanding whatsoever for even the smallest amount of clutter or dirt. It's people being judged on having any real or perceived lack of personal hygiene. And including situations where it is known that the person struggles with problems, including severe disability and cancer. Anything that doesn't look like a fucking minimalist furniture catalogue is unacceptable and gross. There can apparently be no problems that could possibly stop you from doing a proper hair wash routine or brushing your teeth or taking a shower.

I just saw a video of someone cleaning their elderly father's oven door which was pretty dirty. And even without actively condemning it, there were, without fail, comments going "But how could someone even let it get to that point?". I don't know, you fucking unempathetic asshole, i would say pretty easily? You need to be able to 1) kneel on the floor, bend over, or sit on a low stool to reach that area 2) be able to scrub something 3) have the mental energy and know how to do the task and 4) consider it enough of a priority in the limited time and energy of your life to do it. These faux concerned comments showing utter incapability to try to understand a life different to theirs make me so mad.

"But how could someone cope with living in such disgusting conditions?" well they probably wouldn't choose it if they could, but again, they wouldn't not keep up with cleaning if cleaning were easy to do. How can people not understand that.

And this includes judging on greasy hair, stains, bad teeth (did you know that the number one factor of having healthy teeth is genetics?), smelling (especially teenagers, hormones are a bitch), dirty fingernails, not having clear skin or body hair.

I used to sweat and smell easily as a teenager, and not for lack of hygiene. I showered or washed twice every day, wore a fresh clean shirt every day, wore double deodorants every day, washed my jackets too, and i STILL smelled occasionally and was judged for it. Someone once said i should shower more. Because they assumed the reason must be that I don't even try to keep clean.

Could i have done more? Probably. I could have taken an extra shirt to school every day and changed (I didn't even own enough clothes for that, but maybe i could have bought extra cheap ones at the charity shop (where we shopped anyway) that I didn't like and weren't in fashion whatsoever, which would have made me unhappy about my expression and bullied even more for my clothes style, not to mention be judged for wearing a different outfit), washed my winter jackets every few weeks as a precaution despite what it says on the label so they break within a year or two and i have to buy new ones (which i couldn't afford) or taken them to the dry cleaner for expensive money we didn't have, i could have gotten surgery to remove my sweat glands (has side effects, and i want to emphasize that i was like 13 when it started), i could have faked illness to go home as soon as i noticed my clothes start to smell (missing many school days). Or, you know, other people could have raised their kids to have even a cell of kindness instead of cruelty and ableism in their body.

And the moralisation of cleanliness goes for the jokes about how "white people don't shower properly" or people who smell of something you aren't familiar with (like coconut oil) too. Since when is "scrubbing your entire body with soap twice per shower every day" something someone could consider the 'bare minimum'? Why is people treating their hair or scalp with oil 'gross'? "Oh i would feel so gross if i didn't shower every day" well good for you, and also fuck you, because your personal habits and preferences don't constitute moral standards. And i won't complain over someone having theses standards for themselves, that's fine, but i will not accept that person judging others cleanliness as a moral factor. (Note the use of the word "gross" in the earlier example, which is a real example i see pretty often)

"But where is the line waah waah, so you would be fine with someone living with cockroaches?" The line is at health. Infestations and mold constitute health risks. Having so much clutter you can't even check if there's infestations or mold does too. Never cleaning your skin or scalp will give it conditions and might lead to sores that can give you sepsis. Lotion if you have dry skin that gets uncomfortable otherwise, washing your hair so it doesn't itch. Smells that you don't try to reign in and cause harm and stress to the people around you. Neglecting your teeth does affect them and can cause further health risks, so trying your best and brushing and flossing them.

And cleanliness feels nice! So most people would probably have a pretty high standard of cleanliness, IF THEY COULD.

If you're so fucking concerned with someone elses home being cluttered and dirty, fucking go offer doing a spring clean for them without judging them even once. Or shut the fuck up.

My room is always cluttered and often dirty. Would i prefer it to be squeaky clean and completely put away? Yes. Are some of the corners a little gross? Yes. Is that something bad? No! Do i have the ability to keep it clean and just choose not to because i prefer it that way and am a gross immoral person of lower worth? No but that's what apparently a lot of people think, which is horrible and they should feel bad about themselves. Would i keep it clean and tidy if i could? Yes. Can i? No that's the whole point. Is uncleanliness unclean? Yes. Is that bad and immoral? No!

So many people have not even the smallest idea of what disability, lack of time and energy, or just mishaps of circumstances can look like. They cannot imagine a world where the "normal" person they meet every day is not exactly like them. They cannot conceptualise disability (with it's many forms). They will also refuse to categorise things they do encounter in their life as disability, and thus refuse to open their horizon. This very quickly becomes "Well if they can't even do [insert what they deem as normal] them maybe they shouldn't have autonomy or be allowed to go outside." (just look at comment sections of posts and see how quickly this comment pops up)

And to finish on the topic we started, since this post is getting long, the moralisation and following judgement stops people from opening up about when they fail to meet these standards of cleanliness other people display, and creates a fake picture that pressures everyone else to try and hold it up too. And it's fine to have as high of a standard as you want for yourself, but everyone needs to understand that as long as health requirements are kept, finding something gross doesn't mean it's immoral. And that a lot of people have a higher standard of cleanliness than they can actually achieve and practice, and that that's fine.

If you feel the need to comment on someone's living environment or personal hygiene, if you aren't willing to personally help them clean and remedy the situation with kindness, don't speak at all. And if you want to go a step further than not judging others, how about you step up when you see your friends and family judge someone over a perceived moral standard of cleanliness.

[mariacallous]

As the 2023 United Nations Climate Change Conference (or COP28) gets underway in Dubai, the call for rich countries to provide more money to poor countries to fight climate change has taken center stage. But if the record on climate finance is any indication, poor countries should be careful what they wish for.

The conventional critique of climate finance is that it’s too little. In July, the United States and other members of the G-20 refused to endorse a proposal for the World Bank to triple its lending with new capital from its largest shareholders. According to unconfirmed estimates by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, rich countries only last year—and just barely—met a promise made in 2009 to provide $100 billion in climate finance per year, a figure to which they just added $300 million as seed money for a climate loss and damage fund for the world’s poorest countries.

So far, so familiar, and you will surely hear the call for more funds repeated during and after COP28. But while the critique of the amounts pledged is correct, it is only the tip of the iceberg that is the climate finance mess. And the clamor for money fails to address a fundamental problem with climate finance the way it works today: All too often, it competes with the actual needs of developing countries that these transfers are supposed to serve.

The dirty secret of climate finance is that much of it is displacing traditional development aid. Calls for more climate finance are important, but if current practice is any guide, a large share of the funds will be taken from budgets that fund critical development priorities, such as health, education, women’s rights, infrastructure construction, and humanitarian aid.

Exhibit A is a recent study from CARE International, a global nongovernmental organization focused on poverty and social justice. By its estimates, 52 percent of climate finance provided by 23 rich countries from 2011 to 2020 was money that previously went to development budgets, including programs focused on health, education, and women’s rights. In other words, on account of climate policies, poor countries have seen deep cuts in critical aid programs with demonstrated short- and long-term benefits. The numbers look even worse when you consider the long-standing development spending pledge of 0.7 percent of gross national income. If you take that number as a minimum for development spending and posit that climate finance should come on top, only 7 percent of wealthy countries’ climate finance qualifies as additional funding, according to CARE.

The British government, for example, classifies climate finance as development aid, for which the government has a spending target of 0.5 percent of gross national income. Britain’s treatment of this target as a de-facto ceiling has meant that any climate finance counted towards aid automatically displaces funding for development projects. Other leading providers of climate finance, such as Germany, France, and the United States, have also siphoned off climate finance from development spending. Japan, the world’s largest climate funder, provides no finance that is additional to its 0.7 percent pledge for development aid, according to CARE.

The diversion of aid from school feeding programs, maternal healthcare, road construction, programs to assist small farmers, and other purposes is devastating for poor countries. Recent progress toward the U.N. Sustainable Development Goals has been weak, and some indicators of economic development have worsened in the past few years. The economist Charles Kenny argues that we have the knowledge to meet these goals but need significantly greater financial resources to do so. Yet wealthy countries are ignoring this advice, redirecting development funds to climate projects that often do little to advance actual development in the countries they are supposed to help.

Even when rich countries are not raiding other budgets, how they define climate finance is creative, to say the least. An analysis of a United Nations database of climate projects by Reuters showed that climate aid had been used to fund airports, hotels, rainforest-themed movies, a coal plant, and fighting crime. When an Italian chocolate chain opened stores in Asia, the company received a $4.7 million subsidy that the Italian government booked as climate finance. According to the Reuters report, climate specialists agreed that the identified projects “have little or no direct connection to climate change.” The researchers also found that more than $65 billion was spent on projects so poorly reported that it was impossible to say what the money was spent on or even the continent where it was sent. Projects cumulatively worth more than $500 billion were canceled—but remained on the books to count toward climate pledges. There are no uniform official rules for what counts as climate finance, and rich countries appear to be under no obligation to provide details.

What constitutes climate finance is also mostly undefined at the World Bank, the largest provider of finance to poor countries. Loans for improving teacher quality, access to healthcare, and municipal transparency are labeled as having climate co-benefits, but these claimed benefits are not spelled out. While it is sometimes possible to intuit benefits, most project documents lack estimates of greenhouse gas emissions reductions, and the World Bank still has no standardized reporting of emissions estimates. The bank’s own claim that it has funded projects resulting in 194 million tons of carbon dioxide reductions per year has not been verified by independent sources—and, given the lack of emissions documentation for many projects, may indeed be unverifiable. In June, the World Bank said it would restructure its reporting on climate.

That’s not the end of it. Poor countries often receive only the remnants of climate funds that are fully booked as aid but channeled through private-sector firms in rich countries. An analysis by Carbon Brief using data from the British Development Tracker found that 54 management consultancies, mainly headquartered in Britain and other rich countries, received billions of pounds in government funding to provide advice to poor countries on how to fight climate change. In Nigeria and Ghana, 88 percent of U.K. climate aid from 2010 to 2023 was disbursed through international consulting firms. Despite concerns about the fees charged by these firms, the actual value of their work, and insufficient building of local capacity, the British government continues to rely on rich-country consultancies to deliver climate aid.

All of this comes on top of an even more fundamental flaw underlying the concept of climate finance: The premise that if only the rich world gave poor countries more money, the latter could develop their economies on the basis of renewable energy and get rid of fossil fuels. This may sound benevolent to someone sitting in Washington or Berlin, but it contradicts what we know about the needs of poor countries and the relationship between energy, development, and climate resilience. By focusing only on the energy transition, rich governments are forcing a hypothetical green growth model on the developing world that never even worked in their own countries.

[thwartevil]

I’m fine, really. Thriving Girl, that's me. Every morning is exactly like this one. I slip into a respectably cute college–girl outfit and I paste on a sunny bright smile before I head out the door, pepped and ready to go through the Freshman motions. I hit the coffee cart first, which is a non-negotiable must, then I call my mom, who’s been way more with the angst since I moved onto campus. After about ten minutes, give or take one of her spectacular, passive aggressive guilt trips, I head for my morning classes with the promise to see her this Friday, (with a surprise bundle of dirty laundry to boot) fresh on my lips. My first few classes are yawners. I spend most of it going over slay-strategies and last night's hunt as I pick the shimmery-blue polish off my nails. It's really all that I can do to keep myself awake. — major kudo for my caffeine kick!!  I guess I’m being kinda harsh, the classes aren’t that dull, per se, they just don’t require brain cells, or tickle my new found academic curiosity as much as Psych or European history do. Both of which I am pretty sure I’m failing. If Professor Walsh’s most recent scowl of disappointment and accompanying, “I expect you to apply yourself in my class Miss Summers!” Is anything to go by then, goodbye to my future of financial and parental independence. Hello, playing Pinochle with my mom and all of her wine shaped friends. When I’m not flipping burgers for minimum wage. And it’s all thanks to my Fangs and Gnarly after dark extracurricular. In highschool being the Slayer never did leave a whole lot of time for the big-brains stuff, or I guess, the no brainer stuff, like sleep. But being A Slayer in college? Now that’s a whole other ballpark of intense under eye-bags. I swear at this point I’ve lost count of just how many times I’ve woken up with Vampire dust in my hair, or something way / way / worse, and the pages of one of my text books stuck to my cheek. But Persistence is key and so, I muddle through. By my second cup of Coffee-Cart goodness I’ve almost completely convinced myself that I’ve mastered the art of matriculating dealage. I sip my coffee and check my watch, it’s a quarter past one and I realize that in all my aimless moseying and self congratulations, time has slipped away from me and I’m late to meet Willow. I pull my satchel over my shoulder and I reach in with my hand to dig around for my phone. I must have forgotten to take it off silent after class because when I look at it I have a text-message from Wil. I feel my heart sink. I know what it’s about before I open it. She’s canceling. Another Wiccan emergency that I won’t understand, not that she’s giving me a chance to understand anything. She's been pretty evasive lately. I type back a quick text about meeting up with her and Xander later, before patrol and I slip my phone back into my bag.

I guess I have time to kill. I should probably use it to study. That would be the well-adjusted college kid thing to do. I look around at the direction signs and I wrinkle my nose. Months on campus and I still haven’t memorized how to get to the library. (Somewhere out there right now a cold feeling is washing over a severely perturbed Giles, I know it.) My eyes fall on a tree, the big idyllic kind with pink petals in full bloom that have begun to fall, making a pretty, inviting pink-blanket for me on the grass below. I quickly walk towards it, setting my bag and coffee down next to the stump before I sit with my back against it and take out my books. I sigh and smile softly, it’s perfect. I’m barely two chapters into classical antiquity, when an over shadow crosses the pages resting in my lap. I look up to see a man, who kinda looks like he’s been plucked straight off the glossy cover of dreamboat professor weekly, looking fixedly down at me. When he doesn’t say anything after a moment, one that is dangerously close to spanning into two and then inevitable weirdness territory, I raise my brows in question.  “Can I help you?” I ask, a faint friendly enough smile turning up the edges of my lips as I pick up a pettle and place it on the page I was reading before I close my book. “Miss Summers?” He responds in a thick, fresh off the boat, Gilesian accent. I blink up at him, my mouth stupidly agape. “Wow. Triple Deja Vu.” “Pardon me?” He frowns.

[a-yarn-of-purple-prose]

Of masks and dances - chapter 22: Farewells and reunions

I absolutely forgot to post chapter 21 here, so just assume I did and let's go (in my defense, I posted chapter 21 in a migraine day).

Of masks and dances Chapter 22: Farewells and reunions In which Lumine has an unexpected reunion and things get worse before they can get better.

This is probably the most misleading of all my titles, but I got attached to it, so I kept it even after reworking the chapter for the third time.

When I say a chapter gave me grief, I don't mean it in any bad way. I love writing, this fic is what I write for fun, it's interesting and I get to try different things. The Genshin Impact setting is full of interesting takes to be picked up and carried to conclusion, there is just too many possibilities.

So don't get me wrong when I say this chapter was painful to write.

I wrote around 20k words for this chapter. The finished chapter has 8.895k words. Many of the extra words will be showing up in chapter 23 or 24, because I'm not a wasteful person (and there are at least 2 scenes there which I have to put into the fic, because they're cool), but the fact remains that it took me four tries to get to what I wanted and let me tell you that those other paths were quite different from each other.

The fact is that things are lining up for the ending, though I know I've been saying this for a while (my original expectations meant chapter 24 would be the last. Ha.), so I have to make a couple of choices about the story I'm telling. One of them you already noticed, by which I mean Childe's presence (and what does it mean for Lumine/Diluc?).

I'm not gonna lie, Childe was originally going to be a mirror character, someone to help Diluc get a grip on himself, to model a functioning version of what Diluc wants so he could, you know, get better. I was going to get him with Zhongli, even, because that's how things usually go with Childe and there needed to be a model relationship.

That approach failed the moment I realized my Zhongli is too ascetic for that and my Childe too self-aware to keep trying. (oh, he's hurting, of course, but he's not gonna keep trying. That scene on chapter 21, in which he gives Diluc a "this is important" look and tells him how Zhongli did not take his challenge seriously enough, how he did the bare minimum? That was how I knew I fucked up. That was a man saying he felt rejected, and Childe is proud.)

I tried to have Diluc walk away. It just did not rang true, so I scrapped it. Thankfully, things worked out interestingly and Childe will be doing his narrative job anyway, just in a different manner.

Lumine's side of the chapter was part of the original outline (as much as it exists). I still wrote three versions of the conversation with Aether, plus two versions of what happened after. I considered milking her spiral into despair, but then I remembered that I prefer to write about healing.

The only bright side in writing over twice the amount of story that went in is that I at least know exactly how the next chapter plays out.

Childe stays for the while, his side of the story will play itself before we get the ending. I promise I won't do him dirty, I love that man.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

Missing You

A/N: This is just a little smutty one-shot. Thank you guys so much for all of the notes on my last fic! I really thought it was gonna get like 4 notes so that was a really amazing surprise. If you haven’t read it you can check it out here: I Would Do Anything You Asked Me To

Masterlist

Read the (sort of) part 2: Up In The Air

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N gets creative in her attempts to convince Spencer to get a phone from this century

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, phone sex, innocence kink, masturbation (both male and female), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed

Word count: 2200 words

“I don’t need one Y/N” he says exasperated, neatly folding clothes to put into his go-bag. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation but Y/N continued to insist.

“I’m not saying you need one Spence, I’m saying that it would be nice if you had one. Your phone now just does the bare minimum, calls and texts, does that thing even get your emails?”

He rolls his eyes, “You know that’s exactly what I like about it, why would I want any other functions? Plus I like the tactility of the buttons. Humans have been conditioned to find stimulants like the feedback from pressing a button satisfying, it helps us feel like we’re solving problems, essentially.” He deflects.

She takes a step closer to him, placing a hand gently on his arm, “Do you know what could be more satisfying than that?” She questions him, and he shakes his head, eyebrows coming together in confusion, “If I could send you pictures while you were away? Or if we could video chat when I miss you at night?” She pulls him around to face her so he can see her expression, the way she’s looking up at him with half lidded eyes, hoping he doesn’t miss what she’s getting at.

He smirks, and lets out a laugh that’s just shy of scoffing, “You know we can do that with just audio?”

“Are you serious?” He just nods in response, “so you don’t think the visual component is necessary?”

“Necessary’s not the word I would use. It would be nice to have, but I’ve got enough visual aids stored away up here” he taps his temple as he speaks. She groans at him, her point failing to land.

“We can’t all have your memory! Sometimes I don’t just want to think about you getting off in a hotel room, I want to see it” she whines and he gives her a small laugh.

“Look, we can talk about this later but I have to go” he places a gentle kiss on her forehead before he zips up his bag and is out the door.

— — —

When he gets back to his hotel room that evening he collapses back onto the bed. He should have a shower but he’s not sure he even has the energy for that. He was reserving it for his phone call.

He and Y/N had an agreement. Whenever he was away he had to call her each night he was gone. It wasn’t a possessive thing, it was more of a safety thing. If she could just hear his voice for even 30 seconds she could sleep easy. Sometimes it would be just that, a quick ‘hello, love you, goodnight’ other times there’d be plenty to talk about, good and bad. Sometimes he needed the call more than she did. But they never had phone sex.

Spencer was confused why she’d seemed so adamant that it was something he should upgrade his phone for when it wasn’t something they typically even engaged in.

But he didn’t know what she had in store for him yet.

He got changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and lay back into bed, propping himself up against the pillows. He dialed Y/N’s number.

“Hi there.” her voice was smooth like honey and he missed her already.

“Hi.” he breathed

“Did you find my present yet?” He had no idea what she was referring to. Sitting upright in his bed on instinct.

“No?”

“Shame, will you check that little inside pocket of your bag for me? The one with the zip?” he hops straight up to root for it, finding a small sealed envelope. He settles back into bed before he rips it open. It contains a small collection of Polaroids, all of them of Y/N.

She knew what he liked. He’d never say it in so many words but he had a thing for innocence, something about seeing her in white lingerie, or sometimes baby pink. He would always get a little more excited than usual, grabbing, and pulling, and ripping on occasion. But he didn’t recognize the set she was wearing in the Polaroids. It was white satin, with some ruffles, she had a suspender belt around her waist with thin white stockings attached as she stretched out on their shared bed.

His eyes poured over the images, in another it was just from her chest up, giving him a perfect view of her breasts, the expanse of her neck, the frame cutting off just above her lips which were delicately covered in lipgloss. He could see sheen of where the cameras flash had bounced off it.

“Fuck” was all he could think to say. All other words escaping him as he turned his attention towards the photo of her with her hands inside of her own panties, her back arched off the bed beneath her.

“So you found ‘em?” She spoke, her voice sultry and laden with tension.

“I, uh, yeah” he breathes down the line, feeling his cock twitch at the sound of her voice coupled with the images in front of him.

“Are those— the underwear, is it new?” He already knows the answer but he’s not sure what else to ask.

“Mmhmm” she hums, “I thought you’d like this set, I was saving it for a special occasion but I thought, what the hell.”

“I do, I like it a lot.” he reaches his hand inside the waistband of his sweatpants without really thinking about it.

“You know Spence, I really wish you were here right now” she toys with him playfully, “So you could see this set in person, I’m looking at myself in the mirror right now and those pictures really don’t do it justice.”

Spencer almost stops breathing, “You’re wearing— now?” He asks in disbelief.

“This is what I usually do when I miss you Love. I’ll get all dressed up in something I know you like, and I’ll fantasize about what you’d do to me if you were here.” her tone is soft but teasing, still standing to admire herself in the mirror.

She could see why he liked her in white, it made her look so sweet, and cute almost. Whenever she wore underwear like this she went all out. Applying a mascara she knew would run down her cheeks with even the slightest tear, lipstick or lipgloss that was sure to smear or leave stains all over the parts of Spencer that she’d kiss. He loved that, the juxtaposition of the before and after. The adorable angel that he got to ruin.

“What do you do when you fantasize?” He questions, letting his own mind drift as he wraps his hand around his now painfully hard cock.

“Well I’ll think about you, how you like to hold me down by my hips while you eat me out, or how much better your fingers feel” she moans, slipping her own fingers into her panties as she lays down in their bed, “mine just don’t fill me up like yours do.”

Spencer can imagine it perfectly, the way she’s probably splayed out on their bed right now. “God I wish I was there. I’d have my fingers so deep inside you, you’re always so wet for me” he groans into the receiver, “tell me how wet you are for me baby?”

She’s impressed that he’s getting the hang of this so quickly, obliging him right away. “Fuck Spence, I’ve been dripping wet since I heard your voice. I’ve been thinking about this all day. Do you want to hear?”  

She doesn’t wait for a response, she just brings the phone down towards her pussy, lining up the microphone next to it as she pumps her fingers in and out, so that he can hear the wet sounds that fill her bedroom. When she brings the phone back to her ear he’s breathing heavily.

“Fuck Y/N. I wish I was there so bad, I wish I could fuck you right this second” he’s almost whimpering, she can tell he’s touching himself already.

“If you were here with me in bed right now, how would you fuck me Spencer?” She takes a moment to root her vibrator from the drawer in her beside locker. If she concentrated, or stopped concentrating maybe, she could pretend it was him.

“I’d grab you by that fucking suspender belt, and flip you over. Have you face down on the bed for me, your perfect ass in the air.” His sentences are punctuated by harsh breaths, bordering on gasps. “For being such a tease I’d have to rip those tiny little panties off you, as if they were really covering anything in the first place.”

As he speaks she hooks her fingers in the sides of those panties and pulls them off her legs so she’s got better access now. Lining the head of her vibrator up at her entrance, pushing it in slow and steady, waiting until it’s completely sheathed inside her before turning it on.

“I’d grab you by your hips and pull your ass up so my cock is right there, so I can push the head up against your pussy, feeling how fucking wet you are for me”

She’s moaning now, and if he can hear the vibrations he doesn’t say anything.

“Then I’d push into you, your tight little cunt, I always have to go so slow for you to take all of me. I’d keep going, deep as I can so I can feel you squirm under me, feel you clench even tighter around me”

She had no idea he had a mouth this dirty but she was loving every second. “I fucking love it when you fuck me from behind” is all she can string together, writhing on top of their sheets.

“And that’s exactly what I’d do next baby, I’d start to fuck you. Slow, and deep at first, then fast, and rough. I love the sounds you make when I get rough. Those pathetic little whimpers and cries while I fuck you into the mattress. I can even hear them with your face buried in the pillows. It’s even better when you cry just a bit, mascara all over your little cheeks ‘cause you just can’t take it.”

He’s panting now, his boxers pushed down his hips so that he can properly work his cock, his fist pumping up and down faster and faster as he’s about release.

“Where would you cum Spence?” She says it but she almost doesn’t recognize her voice, it’s more of a strangled cry and it goes straight to his dick.

“You know I’d cum deep inside you, fill you up while you tighten around me, god I love those fucking noises you make. Cum for me” he demands, and she’s got no problem obliging.

With her back arching up off the bed, her hands fisting the sheets, and the vibrator still buried inside her, imagining it’s Spencer, she cries out. Moaning louder than she intended, her phone on loudspeaker beside her. She can hear him too. His hand working himself through his climax as it coats his stomach and fingers and little gasps and groans he lets out that sound an awful lot like her name.

Once they’re both spent they lie in silence in their respective beds for a moment before Spencer breaks the tension.

“That was a surprise”

She bursts out laughing. “Well that was the idea”

“But why?” He asks, deliriously happy but confused.

“I thought it might convince you to invest in a phone with a camera?” She says like he’s silly for even asking.

“Why would I want that? This just proved that we don’t need that” he explains, and he’s not wrong but he’s missed the point.

“Spencer, I’m gonna take some pictures of myself right now, and I’m gonna send them to your email. I want you to grab your laptop and open ‘em up for me okay?”

“Okay?” He agrees unsure, and she hangs up.

Several minutes later and he’s opening up an email with the subject heading:

“pros of dr. reid getting a new phone”

There’s no text, just a series of photos of Y/N. She’s staged them perfectly.

The first is a selfie, messy hair, smudged lipgloss, and mascara stained cheeks on show as she’s blowing him a kiss. Another is just her mouth, but she’s stuffed her discarded panties inside, leaving the wet stain obviously visible to him. There’s others of her, taken of herself in the mirror, fingers inside herself, in the next she’s got those same fingers in her mouth, lips closed tightly around them, cheeks hollowed out. Spencer has to stop scrolling or he’ll just get hard again.

He hears his phone ping with a text message.

You could’ve been looking at these the whole time, might’ve even gotten a video if you were lucky x

He rarely likes to admit defeat but in this case it might just be worth it to concede.

I’ll buy a new phone first thing tomorrow x

—

Masterlist

Read the (sort of) part 2: Up In The Air

[lizzy-williams]

❝𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 & 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜❞

ღWarnings: SMUT (18+ please!), language, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), sexual situations.

ღMasterlist

ღRequest: Can you do the most dirty hard good sexy lovely spanking doggy position french kiss smut EVER please PLEASE with tom 🙂🪓

ღSummary: You’re been in a mood almost all week, Tom having to leave right on Valentine’s Day for filming. The day before he has to leave, you’re the meanest you’ve been, and Tom’s had about enough. 

ღA/n: ANON YOU DIRTY BEAN I LOVE YOU. This will be the first thing I’m posting since I came back, So I hope you guys enjoy, feel free to send in more requests. 

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 in a mood the entire week. More specifically at your boyfriend, who chose a job that somehow, someway got him taken away right on Valentine’s Day. 

Even worse, this would be your 5th Valentine’s Day together, which you saw as a mile stone. You knew you were being irrational and a bit selfish, but you were too blinded by your anger to realize it. 

For the time being, you were giving Tom hell, inside and outside your small flat. On Monday, you and Tom went out for coffee, but of course, being the little minx you are, you teased him right then and there, in public, and you managed to turn Tom into a needy, whiny child with only a few touches.  

But when the two of you got home, you did a full 180, becoming completely distanced and untouchable, evading every advance Tom tried to make on you. You just kept all your attention on Tessa for a majority of that day. 

At first, Tom was clueless, the sudden distancing confusing the hell out of him, but it only escalated from there. 

On Tuesday, you had some things to do for work, and there you sat on the couch, typing away on your computer before Tom, still flustered and needy from yesterday, came waltzing into the living area and plopped down right next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. 

Yet you sat there, still typing away, acting as if Tom wasn’t there at all. Tom adjusted himself a few times, seeing if his movements gained any attention or reaction from you. Still. Nothing. 

Now he resulted to sighing loudly, and due to where his head was, it was right in your ear. It was erotic or teasing, it was just straight up annoying and childish. 

You finally pried your eyes away from the screen and turned to look at him, “Do you want something?” was all the response he was going to get, and even then it was a grumble. 

“I wanna cuddle.” 

He sounded so much like a kid, and in any other circumstance, you would tend to his request. But no. You were mad at him. 

“I’m working, Tom.”

That’s when Tom knew something was definitely wrong. No usual ‘bubba’ or ‘bub’. Not even honey. Just his first name. Not even his full first name. Just Tom. 

You felt him recoil and slip away into the other room. 

Tom: 0, You: 2

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Wednesday rolled around, and Tom was talking to Harrison on the phone. Once again, you had been giving him the bare minimum all day, but when you kissed him, it was long, passionate and lingering. And Tom was, to say the least, baffled. 

“I dunno, man, she’s been like this all week.” 

You happened to be in earshot, and slipped behind a doorframe, listening in on what Tom had to say. 

“No, I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. I’ve even been making an effort to put the toilet seat down, and somehow she keeps being so distant. I even tried hugging her from behind this morning and she just brushed me off.”

That one was true. You were making yourself lunch when Tom, who woke up late as usual, came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms lovingly around your waist, but staying true to your previous attitude, you brushed him off, using the stove as an excuse. But instead of reassuring him, like you normally would have, you turned and gave him a purple and red hickey on his sweet spot before turning back around and acting as if nothing had happened at all. 

“No, it’s not that time of the month, she already had it. I kinda know these things.”

That was also true. Because you and Tom had such a frequent and vibrant sex life, he made it a personal mission to know when your period came so he could work around it and comfort you. All things aside, he truly was a good boyfriend. 

“Ohhhhh,” he made a sound of realization and it made you perk up a little, wondering if he truly understood why you were so evasive. 

Wait, did he?

The sound of his footsteps clamoring down the hall made you frantically look around for something to look busy with. 

“Darling?” he called out. 

“In here!” you called out, trying to sound unbothered. 

“Ah, Darling,” he seemed giddy, as if he had just solved the worlds biggest mystery, “I know why your angry at me.”

“Oh?” you questioned, as you kept fiddling with whatever you were doing, acting as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. 

“You were upset about the paparazzi pictures. The ones with Ciara.” 

“What?!” you seethed, now not caring about acting like you didn’t care. 

“Th-The other day, when I went out to lunch, you knew about it...?” he was terrified by the look in your eyes. 

He was being honest. He did say he was going out with the female co-star, and you were okay with it. You trusted him. But what you didn’t think about were the tabloids. The gossip sights that would no doubt leak into Twitter, causing an un-needed uprising in Hollanders and shippers. 

Immediately you pushed passed him and went straight for your phone, looking up news sight after news sight. 

Ciara Bravo and Tom Holland: New Hollywood Couple???

Tom & Ciara, A Valentine’s Day Miracle

Did Y/N and Tom SPLIT? Ciara and Tom Spotted!

At this point you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Tom. Despite him and you understanding there was nothing going on, the outside world put pressure on the both of you, and you needed to breathe. 

Tom didn’t say a word when you got your coat and left with a ‘I’m going out. Don’t wait up.’

By time you got home, Tom slept on the couch, and you slept in the bed. 

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Tuesday was quiet, nothing happened. The two of you didn’t speak to each other, a day going by silently, but when you were going to bed, that’s when things got interesting. 

“It isn’t my fault.”

He stood in the bathroom as he spoke, and you were on the bed reading a book with Tessa at your side, sound asleep. 

You gave a small, unbothered sigh, “I know.”

Tom perked up, “What do you mean, ‘you know’?” he asked irritably. 

“I mean I know it isn’t your fault about the media. I don’t care, it’s fine.”

“Then why are you so mad at me?!” he was annoyed now, making you raise a brow. 

“You really don’t know?” you hissed, closing your book, not caring if you lost your page or not. 

“No, of course I don’t know!”

“You’re leaving me! On Valentines Day!” you snapped, standing up, Tessa’s ears going back. 

“Are you serious??? That’s it?” he questioned with wide eyes. 

You glared at him, giving him an expression that only meant one thing, slipping out of the room without a word. 

Needless to say, you slept on the couch that night .

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Friday. The day before Tom leaves. The day before Valentine’s day. 

And as always, you woke up before Tom, hearing Tessa scratch at the bedroom door from the inside. You walked down the hall, turning the bedroom door handle slowly and letting Tessa out the door, but not before catching a glimpse of your sleeping boyfriend in nothing but boxers, holding onto your pillow as he slept. 

Thats when the idea popped into your head. You were going to make a lovely Valentine’s day themed breakfast. For yourself.

If there was any way to get Tom back, it was with food, your food more specifically. 

You immediately got to work, prepping the veggies for the omelette, mixing the batter for waffles, and washing the strawberries, planning on using them for a garnish.

You worked for a good hour, almost everything done, the last thing being cutting the strawberries when you suddenly heard the bedroom door open. 

Tom walked out, his curly hair all a mess on top of his head, purposefully not wearing anything except for his Calvin’s, and you shamelessly checked him out, in hopes that would get him going. 

Before he got too close, you whipped back around and began slicing in the berries in front of you. Just like he did the many mornings ago, he let his arms wrap around you right before you felt him leave a small peck below your earlobe, and you had to bite back a smile. 

“Good morning, darling.”

Fuck. His morning voice. It was rough, deep, and gravely, making your stomach do summersaults and slick glisten between your legs. 

“Morning.” 

The sexual tension was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the knife in your hand. But you needed to stay strong. You were mad. You were still mad....

Right?

“Are those for me?” he questioned, motioning to the breakfast platter you had spread on the kitchen island, complete with a glass of OJ. 

You did a silent self-pat on the back. 

“Nope,” you smirked, before popping a strawberry in your mouth. 

His demeanor switched, “That’s it-”

You squeaked as he took the knife from your hands, throwing it into the sink before sweeping his hands across the counter, knocking the cutting board aside, roughly grabbing your hips and putting you on the counter. 

“I’ve just about had it with your attitude,” he growled, pulling his semi-hard-on out of his boxers before grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy, lustful kiss, his tongue diving in the instant that his lips touched yours, making you whimper out, trying you best to regain control of the situation but failing quickly. 

A sudden smack to your ass made you quit your pursuit of control, a whine finding it’s way out of your throat as you felt him smirk into the kiss. His tongue prodded around your mouth as you held onto him desperately. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his member pressing right up against your clothed clit, daring him to do whatever he was going to do next. 

Suddenly, he picked you up off the counter, breaking the kiss and pushing you down to your knees, harshly, shoving his member against your cheek. 

“Suck. I’m not gonna ask nice again,” he grunted, and you knew that he would keep his word with this one. 

You hesitantly took him in your hands before stocking him slightly, sticking your tongue out and licking a strip from his base to his tip, before taking it in your mouth, using your tongue to tease the angry veins and ridges on the underside of his cock. 

“Oh - FUCK - you’re so fucking precious.” he hissed, his hand weaving in your hair before pulling you down on his cock, going so deep it touched the back of your throat, praying that your gag reflex was on your side. 

Suddenly he pulled you back, before pulling you all the way back onto him, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeated his movements, using your face and whispering obscenities into the air around you, harshly fucking your mouth. 

“My bratty girl, shit, you sound so much better choking on my cock,” he grunted, his pace suddenly faltering, cock twitching, signaling he was about to release. 

He looked down and his eyes widened as he caught sight of your hips moving slowly and gently. You were so cute like that, humping the air like a little bunny, Tom taking immense pride in the fact that he made you like this. 

Without another warning, you felt his cum fill the back of your throat, making you whine as you had no choice to swallow it all, knowing he wouldn’t take his cock out of your mouth until you did so. 

Tom watched tentatively for the bobbing of your throat. The one indication that you swallowed. You shivered slightly as you felt the salty substance make it’s way down your throat, and he finally, finally, pulled himself out, and you gasped for air. 

Tom admired your fucked out state, tears wetting your cheeks and your lips swollen, hair ruined from his grip. He could have you looking like that...

He used one hand to stroke and caress your cheek, the other smoothing out your hair the best he could before standing you back up, your eyes dazed as you looked at him with pleading eyes, your past angers forgotten as you were desperate for his touch. 

“Go to the bedroom, strip, lay down, ass up darling. Wait. You touch yourself and I’ll leave you there for the rest of the night, understand?” he hissed before you nodded, scampering off down the hall.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

 You waited on the bed as you were told, your back arched as you put your ass in the air, your head resting in your arms as you scowled slightly impatiently. It had been 5 minutes since Tom promised he’d be back, and yet there you were. 

You began to play with the sheets between you fingers as you sighed quietly to yourself. But your head propped up slightly when you heard the sound of the door swinging open, a now completely nude Tom stepping through, a small box in his hands. 

“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but now seems like a much more... fitting time,” his smile was devious as he opened the small box, pulling out a thick, bullet shaped piece of equipment. 

Right as he twisted the bottom, you heard it buzz softly, and the realization hit you like a ton a bricks: the realization that this was going to be a long night. He stalked around you like a predator trying to catch pray, and you felt the bed dip behind you, and you heard him let out a sigh of content as he looked at your completely wet pussy, courtesy of the events earlier in the kitchen. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty all wet like this for me... this is for me, right darling?” he kneaded your ass in his hands before you could answer, “Who am I kidding, of course it’s for me.”

You knew what was coming next, knowing how much Tom loved your ass, and jus as expected, you felt his tongue lick a long, rough lick from your clit to your rim, making you jolt forwards slightly. 

Soon enough you felt two of his fingers plunge inside of your pussy, making you moan sweetly into the open air of the bedroom. His movements made the coil inside you tighten and spark, your need for release becoming more and more apparent. 

But the sudden buzzing on your clit made you lose your mind, release coming sooner than expected, your cunt squeezing around Tom’s fingers like a vice as you moaned out, breathless as his pace never faltered, his speed, (if anything), increasing as your body shook. 

Even after your high was ridden out, he continued, making you gasp. 

“T-Tom, I can’t, I can’t I- AHHH!” your babbling was cut of by another sudden shock through your cunt, making you scream out in such quick pleasure. 

“Holy fuck, so wet-” Tom was in awe of your actions, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what just happened. 

You just squirted. 

Tom wasted no time getting down there and sucking your clit harshly, his movements driving you crazy as you tried to collect your thoughts and make a complete sentence. 

He was so high on you, so drunk on your taste as he continued to taste and tease every part of your most sensitive place. 

“P-Please Tom,” you begged, shifting. 

Please what? Please keep going? Please stop?

“Please fuck me,” 

It was a soft whimper, oh so soft, but he heard it, and it drove him crazy. He sat up and positioned his newly hardened, throbbing member up to your entrance. Without a second thought, he pushed in the tip with ease. 

You silently thanked god for the slick of your cunt as he drove in farther, and to your surprise, he waited. Waited until you were ready. He knew that no matter how many times he fucked you, you would always be tighter than hell. So he waited. He always did. 

But as soon as you nodded, his demeanor flipped again like a light switch, drawing himself out and slamming himself back in. Soon enough he set a rough and punishing pace, throwing you back onto him like a rag-doll as your body went limp, letting him use you. 

You jerked when you felt him land a slap on your ass, knowing he enjoyed the way it move after he did so, before kneading the flesh, planning on repeating his actions. 

You were whimpering and keening at his movements and pants, the feeling of him pounding into you taking you over, and the only thing you could think about was him. 

Him, him, him.

Not the fact that he had to leave the following morning, or the fact that the tabloids were a nuisance. Just that fact that you were completely fucked out and it wasn’t even noon yet. 

“Shit, darling, so. Fucking. Good,” he grunted, punctuating his final words with harsh, long, hard thrusts, accompanied with slaps to your already sensative ass. 

His pace was faltering, dick twitching, his pants getting more frequent and louder. You knew he was getting close, the sight of you so out of it only spurring it on. 

“C-Cum for me, Tommy,” you whimpered, making his thrusts almost come to a full halt, “Cum inside me, please,”

Tom knew you were on the pill, and it was always for other reasons, and he usually pulled out, more as a personal preference to you. But now that you wanted him to claim you, so intimately and so passionately, his movements went from 0 to 100, before he felt himself snap. 

This of course made you plummet backwards off the cliff of ecstasy, the both of you coming together as a symphony of moans and whines and growls filled the air around you, your body feeling as if it were floating as your ears rang. 

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You both fucked like rabbits till noon, the both of you feeling drunk off each other’s touch, just not getting enough. You were both starved all week after all. And it took it’s toll. 

By time you two were done, your body was weak, your muscles completely spent and you heartbeat doing it’s best to settle down. You felt Tom’s arms help pull you up, laying you on your back and disappearing into the bathroom. 

When he came back, it was with a warm, wet washcloth, and be began slowly wiping up his mess, whispering praise and words of admiration while doing so. You found your eyes closing as you basked in the attention and after-glow of orgasm. He was completely in love with you, he couldn’t stop if he tried. 

Tossing the rag off the the side, you felt the area beside you dip before you were greeted with Tom’s arms, once again, finding home around your body, and you immediately leaned into his touch, laying your head softly on his chest as he played with your hair. 

The both of you enjoyed the silence. His other hand drifted up and down your arm, making goosebumps erupt in its wake, the space to think being larger than life. 

Finally, you spoke. 

“I’m sorry.” you muttered, holding him just a little bit closer. But Tom being Tom, you knew he would milk it as much as he could. 

“For?”

You sighed, embarrassed that you had to admit it out loud, “For being a bitch all week. I was just angry. It wasn’t fair to you. Ergo, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. But you’re buying me coffee on the way to the airport tomorrow morning,” he insisted. 

That’s when your senses finally took in the fact that it was still light outside. The clock on your bedside table read a shocking 12:23 pm, and you let a small smirk creep across your face at the Valentine’s Day sex you were truly going to be missing out on. 

Sure, it still made you sad that he was leaving. But knowing Tom, you knew he would do something special for you, no matter how far away you were. Besides, there was hours of Facetime sex to be had, and you couldn’t wait for that. 

“Do you want lunch?” you questioned quietly, your hand gently gliding up and down Tom’s abs, which always felt like you were touching marble stone. 

“Yeah. You’re buying though,” he contested, and you smirked. 

“Nope. I’m making. I was thinking tomato soup and grilled cheese,” 

You knew it was one of Tom’s favorites, one of the few things on this planet that Tom would die for, (besides you, of course).

“That would be lovely, darling.”

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“I’m gonna miss the fuck outta you,” you whined, standing at the gates, your doe eyes peering up at him as you held his hands. 

“I’ll be back before you know it, love, and you can text me and call me at the end of every day. I can even fly you out to visit if you want.”

Tom was doing his best to soften the blow of him leaving; it was hard on both of you, and it was supposed to be for 2 months. 8 weeks. 56 days. You hated it. 

“Love you,” you grumbled like a child, before hugging him with all your might, trying to remember this feeling to keep you company. 

“I love you most,” he challenged, making you pull back to rest your chin on his chest before leaning up and giving him a kiss, but it turned heated quickly. 

Before it could get any more hot and heavy (because the paparazzi are VULTURES), you pulled away. 

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you replied. 

Suddenly the lady on the overhead speakers began to talk, “All first class passengers on flight 32-B to Atlanta, Georgia, is now boarding.”

“That’s me,” he sighed. 

Tears pricked your eyes unexpectantly, and before Tom could see them, you gave him one last, rib crushing hug. 

He pulled back with a smile, waving a wordless goodbye, walking away, but not without giving you one last look, mouthing the words:

‘Happy Valentine’s Day’

THANK YOU FOR 1K!!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU!!!

[itsamejin]

easy || jungkook angst/fluff

Summary: Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.

Warning: cursing, crude humor, fuckboy talk

Genre: college!au, fuckboy!au, bet!trope, angst, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Premise: In which Jungkook accepts a bet from Taehyung to date the first girl that walks into the lecture hall and realizes that he bit off more than he could chew when starts to catch feelings. Now, he has to suffer the consequences of being an idiot.

Commission Request: @altus-gens​

Word Count: 9,203 words

—

It's not like Jungkook planned to be one of the most sought after person in Yonsei University, but it somehow turned out to be that way. Truthfully, he basks in it, loves that so many people idolize him for doing the bare minimum. He was handsome after all and had a level of charm that surpassed the need to have a good personality. 

He got into such a prestigious school through an athletic scholarship for Taekwondo, managed to convince his professors to pass him when he put in minimal effort, and there was no shortage of girls to call when he was feeling lonely for a night. He was the stereotypical 'it' boy on campus and maybe if he was a little bit smarter, he'd have a better choice of friends than the six idiots he always hangs around with.

"How about this," Taehyung starts, gum in his mouth, "the first girl who walks in, you have to successfully get in her pants."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. They were in a damn lecture hall and yet Taehyung had no shame bringing up sex. Typical.

“This again, bro?” Hoseok sighed. “Aren’t you sick of bribing us to do weird shit for you?”

Taehyung smirked.

“Not at all, actually.”

"For how much?" Namjoon cut in, probably curious for the price point Taehyung would arrange this time. He was fired from his job just a week ago and could really use the money. "I'll do it if it’s enough to pay for my rent this month."

Taehyung scoffs, although knowing full well he could pay for all of the boys’ tuitions combined if he wanted to. He was the resident rich bachelor on campus after all.

"I'll pay it for a full year and your utility bills too if you're really down," Taehyung flaunts. "You just gotta have proof you actually managed to do it."

"Dude that's gross," Seokjin chimes in, "No one wants to send you proof of us doing it with a random girl."

Taehyung shakes his head.

"No, no, no," he says, clicking his tongue. "I phrased it incorrectly. I’m not a fucking pervert."

“You got us fooled,” Jimin mutters. 

Taehyung leans in closer to the six boys and even Jungkook finds himself getting intrigued. Admittedly, he was a little curious considering he hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. He could really use having some extra cash for food without worrying about rent.

"You have to date the girl for like three months," Taehyung says seriously, "and I'll consider that as enough proof that you managed to actually do it since I know you guys are too horny to wait any longer than that to fuck."

They all look at Taehyung in disgust, Jimin even opting to hit him in the back of the head for being so vulgar. To be fair, they were all thinking of accepting Taehyung's bet regardless. It's not like they were new to leading girls on anyway.

"You gotta pay me more than that to fuck just any girl," Yoongi says, yawning in the process. He seemed the least likely to take up Taehyung's offer, but he was still game depending on the person.

"Then how would you feel," Taehyung starts, "if I told you guys that I could get you priority registration for next quarter."

The boys, even the ones who weren't interested, were now listening to Taehyung's every word.

"You mean," Hoseok gulps, "I could finally get that fucking Organic Chemistry class I need to get out of this hell hole?!"

Taehyung shrugs, an ominous smile on his face.

"Just the perk of having parents who have connections," Taehyung replies. “I’ll only accept one of you guys to do it though. I don’t wanna have you all fucking the same girl- that’d be weird.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird about this,” he grumbles.

“So are you guys in or not?” Taehyung asks, his patience growing thin.

He lays back on his chair, a smoldering look on his face when they all nod. They were desperate for money after all.

"The next girl that walks in will be the subject of this bet and whoever calls dibs on her first will be the one to woo her,” he says with a stretch of his arms. “Good luck boys.”

They all turned to look at the door and Jungkook watches silently as guy after guy walks into the lecture hall. No girl yet. 

Jungkook was hoping, from the bottom of his heart, that no familiar faces would walk in. If he had to deal with a past fling, he’d have to back out immediately. He never dealt with exes very well.

The guys are at the edge of their seats, praying for a cute girl to walk through that didn’t already know about their horrible reputation. They were looking for an easy target, someone that could fall for their charms almost immediately.

And then, you walk in. You were clad in sweats with earphones on, rushing toward the front row seats of the lecture hall. You were chatting with your friends, yawning several times throughout your conversation with them. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing special about you to point out, in fact, you were just like everyone else. Strangely enough, he found that the most intriguing part about you.

"Nope, nope, nope," Jimin shakes his head repeatedly. "Can't, won't, never will. Sorry, Tae."

They all stare at him in confusion.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with her?" Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin faces away from you, not wanting to look at you any longer.

"No, nothing," there seems to be a blush forming on his face. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung furrows his brows. “Bro, if she’s crazy and one of us gets our dick bitten off, we’re all blaming you, so spit it out.”

Jimin just sighs.

"She's been giving me Professor Kwon’s notes for the past few weeks,” he starts, much to the confusion of his friends. “Her name is [Y/N]. It'll be really mean if I go after her, especially since she and I are kind of friends. Plus, I really need to pass this class. I failed last quarter..."

The boys groan. Jimin was no fun.

"She's not my type so I don't think I could really get into it either," Seokjin states, no longer interested in the prize after Jimin’s confession. He’s been banking off of your notes from him too. 

"Aren’t we all old enough to know not to mess with people’s feelings?" Hoseok sighs.

They roll their eyes at Hoseok’s statement. Who was he trying to fool with the nice guy act? He probably fooled around with girls just as much as the other guys did.

"Yeah, I’m backing out," Yoongi agrees, "and she hates me so there's that."

They all look at him questioningly and he puts his hands up in the air from their gazes.

"What? I just realized who she’s talking to down there.”

He pointed at a girl discreetly, but no one seemed to recognize her.

“Her friend and I dated,” Yoongi continues, “and I broke up with her over text and blocked her without letting her respond. That whole friend group is pretty much pissed at me. I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

The guys look disapprovingly at him. Breaking up over text was harsh, but probably not the worst thing Yoongi has done to his exes.

"You're actually a piece of shit," Namjoon sighs. "I really do need my rent paid though..."

Jungkook nods in agreement. It's been almost impossible to balance Taekwondo practices, college papers, and working a part-time job all at once. If he could somehow find a way to quit his job for a while and get priority registration for classes, then he doesn't mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process. Plus, you were cute enough and he's sure you weren't too difficult to befriend as long as he doesn't mention Yoongi in any conversations.

"I'm in," Jungkook chides, finally saying something after such a long period of silence.

They all look at him with disbelief in their eyes. Jungkook was never the one to partake in Taehyung's bets. In fact, he was the one usually ridiculing them for participating. He must have been really desperate if he was willing to do it.

"I mean, it's all yours if you want," Namjoon replies, "I don't wanna turn it into a competition.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Jungkook fist bumps Namjoon, “I’ll quit my job and refer you for it.”

They nod at each other as if they were on the same wavelength. 

“I knew I could rely on you,” Namjoon says, faking tears from his eyes. The boys groan in response.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands. “In exchange for providing me some mindless entertainment and going out with [Y/N], you will get your rent paid for the rest of the year and get early registration for next quarter. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t know about this, guys...”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him and instead takes one last look at you. You catch him in the corner of your eye and you can’t help but feel flustered at his serious expression. 

“Should be easy enough,” he mutters to himself and turns his gaze back onto his friend.

“So we have a deal?” Taehyung asks.

He smirks, shaking the outreached hand Taehyung held out for him. He steals another glance at you and he finds you staring right back. He gives you a wink.

“Deal.”

—

Jungkook slid into the seat next to yours in the campus canteen, his eyes filled with determination. His posture was laid-back, but it was a little too obvious that he was trying to act like he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he greets you in a breathy tone- girls loved it when he spoke with his breathy tone.

“Hi?”

You’d been sensing that someone was staring at you during the lecture, but you thought that was just the paranoia that came from being near such an intimidating group of guys. Turns out, you should always trust your instincts.

Jungkook had a boyish grin on his face that made you want to smile back but also stare at him in disgust.

“I heard you help Jimin with Professor Kwon’s notes,” he whispers mischievously. “I’m struggling myself, actually...”

Not really, but you know. This was the easiest tactic to approach you- tackle your similarities. You nod understandingly at his words, not quite getting that he was flirting with you.

“Yeah I can send you the Google Drive folder,” you comply, taking your phone out. “But you can’t let Professor Kwon know or else he’ll flip out. He doesn’t want people to have the notes for some odd reason...”

You trail off but Jungkook just scoffs. You seemed clueless.

“That’s not what I necessarily meant,” he says, a little shy this time. “I need a tutor.”

You furrow your brows at him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to pay me for that,” you say seriously. The last time you offered to tutor someone for free, they ended up blaming you for their failing grade and screaming about it all over social media. You needed money to compensate for that emotional trauma. “Microeconomics is hard to teach.”

“Well thankfully I’m a good student,” Jungkook teases. You stare at him with a deadpan face.

“You wouldn’t need my help if you were a good student,” you say blankly, standing up from your seat. “My hourly rate is 20,000 Won. Take it or leave it.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. He had to spend his money to get Taehyung’s money? Well, the payout would be worth it in the end anyway. He reaches out a hand to you.

“If you’d have me,” he says cheekily, looking up at you. You take his hand in yours and maybe for a second you felt your heart skip a beat, but that was soon over when you let go of him.

“You have sweaty hands,” you say straightforwardly. You wipe your hand on your shirt and he coughs awkwardly at how unresponsive you truly were. Didn’t Jimin say you were a nice person? 

You take your barely-touched lunch tray and walk away from his pensive figure.

“Wait, can I get your number?” he yells. You don’t look back.

“Alright, whatever,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll just ask Jimin, I guess.”

Without even a second glance, you disappear from his sight. He sits back on his chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sure, this wasn’t the first girl that didn’t care much for his advances, but you didn’t even crack a smile or anything. This is going to be harder than he thought...

—

“She hates me,” Jungkook whines to Seokjin as they walked down the university halls to their next shared class. “Yesterday, I went up to her to get her number and I left with a fucking debt. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken on the bet,” Seokjin yawned. “Namjoon would have wooed her with his poetry by now or some shit.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s interested in a dude who can’t even put on a hat without causing an earthquake.”

Seokjin smacked him on the back.

“At least he’d have the guts to say no to having a fucking tutor,” Seokjin replies. “You dug your own grave, man. Now roll around in it.”

“Do you want me to succeed or not?” 

“I want you to not be a fucking dumbass, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighs. “Do you really wanna make your reputation worse than it already is?”

Just as Jungkook was about to reply, he catches a glimpse of you walking farther ahead in the university courtyard. You were a bit far but he’s sure he could make it if he hurries. He smacks the binder he held in his right hand onto Seokjin’s chest.

“Yo, can you cover for me,” he asks hastily and Seokjin stares at him with a concerned gaze. He watches as Jungkook takes off his backpack and leaves it on the ground. Jungkook looked about ready to break out in a sprint.

“What the fuck, why?” Seokjin questions.

“Just tell the TA I’m out for a bit,” he says in response, already running ahead to catch up to you. “I’m winning this fucking bet or I’ll die trying.”

Jin stands still, mouth agape. Jungkook really left him with his backpack and binder just to talk to you. He shakes his head. ‘I need to make new friends,’ he thought to himself, picking up the discarded backpack and walking in the direction of the class Jungkook was planning to be late to.

You were walking with your earphones on, not noticing someone sprinting at you in record speed. You only turn your music off when Jungkook stops in front of you, his hands on his knees. He was panting heavily.

“Hey,” he says through deep breaths. You nod at him awkwardly.

“Why are you running?”

“I wanted to... catch up to you... and I thought... you were closer... but the run here... took... fucking... forever,” he says breathlessly. “Water. I need water.”

You take out a bottle from your tote bag hastily, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, grazing your fingers a bit. As he was about to start chugging it, you halted him.

“Waterfall,” you say curtly- you were still planning to drink out of it later after all. 

He nods in response, a drop of sweat cascading the side of his neck. After he was done, there was practically no water left anyway. ‘I’m gonna have to refill it myself,’ you thought begrudgingly. You stuff it back into your bag and wait until his breaths become more even.

“A bit out of shape, huh?”

He scoffs and gives you a glare, clearly offended.

“I actually have a Taekwondo scholarship, you know that? I just wasn’t warmed up and I’m naturally sweaty so it’s not like-”

You laugh a little.

“I’m joking,” you say, a smile adorning your face. He feels his face turn red and he can’t help but purse his lips out of embarrassment. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t take a fucking joke.

“O-oh,” he says shyly, avoiding your gaze. Why was he acting more like an idiot than usual? You hear the chiming bells of the university tower and stare at your phone to check the time.

“Don’t you have a class?” you ask him. His eyes widen and soon he was dashing off again. He turns around mid-run, jogging backward to face you.

“My number is 06-1313-9197,” he yells, loud enough for the other late students in the courtyard to hear. Most of them roll their eyes, knowing that Jungkook was flirting with another girl yet again. You’re embarrassed by the amount of attention he’s getting, but punch his number on your phone anyway.

“Text me,” he shouts. “I’ll always respond to you.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered.

—

"That’s wrong,” you say, reaching over to Jungkook’s notebook and marking a large ‘X’ on his paper. “You’re not supposed to apply that function for this problem...”

Jungkook stared at you with a tired face. He didn’t think he was too bad at the mathematical aspect of Microeconomics, but it seemed like it was your life’s mission to make him look like an idiot. Of course, you caught every mistake that he made- even the ones he made on purpose just to see if you were really paying attention to his work and not bamboozling him.

“My bad,” he mutters, copying down the same problem on a different sheet of paper. He didn’t even get a chance to make a move on you today- not like he could make any big developments in the campus library anyway.

“Is it like this?” he asks, tilting his notebook to face you. You take a hard look at it and nod.

“Yeah, just make sure you know the difference between these two formulas, or else you’ll mess up on the midterm,” you say thoughtfully.

This was your fourth or fifth tutoring session by now? Truth be told he wasn’t really counting. Each moment he spent with you kind of blended together and he didn’t quite know if that was a bad thing or not.

“You know you’re not even struggling,” you say, your nose buried deep in your textbook. “It’s not like you’re completely clueless like Jimin. It seems like you’re wasting money on stuff you already know.”

Jungkook laughs heartily, getting shushed by the people around him. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, well, it was just an excuse to hang out with the pretty girl in class, you know?” he says as nonchalantly as he could. You stare at him for a second and he swears he feels his body freeze over. If looks could kill...

You just shook your head with a click of your tongue and got back to reading.

“The pretty girl in class is most definitely not me,” you grumble. “If you wanted, I could’ve given you Soobin’s number without all the added hassle of you trying to come talk to me-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jungkook stops you from saying anything else. He looked worriedly at your face. “I don’t even know who the hell Soobin is, why would I want her number?”

You look at him and finally, you chuckle. ‘She really does have a nice smile,’ Jungkook thought to himself. It would be nice if he could make you laugh more often and not just on rare occasions like this.

“You’re saying you don’t know Yoongi’s ex?” you tease slightly. You were finally letting your guard down with him and Jungkook smirked. One wall down, another million more to go.

“Bold of you to assume that I know any of Yoongi’s exes,” he says and you scoff. “He’s an asshole when it comes to dating.”

You roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that your whole friend group?”

He pouts. You knew of his reputation after all. Jungkook thought he could get away playing a nice boy act, but it didn't seem possible considering your knowledge of him. A little white lie couldn’t hurt in the end.

“Not me,” he replies. “I choose my relationships pretty carefully.”

You take a glance at him before jotting down a few more words in your notebook.

“Well,” you start off, a little shy to admit what you were about to say, “I guess we both have that in common.”

He tilts his head rather cutely out of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

You cough awkwardly, adjusting yourself on one of the library’s notoriously squeaky seats.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before,” you say quietly. His eyes bulge out from their sockets.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Like, you’ve never been on a date or what?”

“I have,” you say hesitantly. “I’ve been on a few but they just never led into anything serious. I was pretty focused on studying in high school so there weren’t really any opportunities to get involved with someone. Plus, the guys who pursued me weren’t very... attractive.”

Jungkook laughs loudly again, much to the dismay of the other students in the library. He liked that you didn’t beat around the bush- it was easier to talk to you that way.

“And me?” he asks teasingly, laying his head on his arm that was atop the desk. He looks up at you with that boyish grin of his that gave you small butterflies in your stomach. You stare back at him, but only for a second. You ignore his watchful gaze and continue to flip through your textbook, trying to find the passage you last read. He keeps his eyes locked on you and you just couldn’t resist.

“What about you?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Am I attractive?” he replies as bluntly as he could. You stop your movements and he chuckles.

“You’re... cute,” you settle on that word. Cute. It was safe enough to not be misinterpreted too much. He sits up straight with a satisfied smirk. He takes his pen and draws a heart on the side of your notebook. He winks at you when you stare back at him, puzzled by his actions.

“You are too.”

—

“Tell me you’re lying,” Soobin whines disappointingly, shaking your shoulders. You were trying to eat lunch undisturbed in one of the campus cafes but your two friends seem hell-bent on making you suffer. “There’s no way you’re friends with Jungkook.”

You sigh, attempting to rid yourself of Soobin’s grasp but to no avail.

“He’s an asshole, [Y/N],” Gaeun sighs disappointingly. “I thought you were a feminist, why the fuck do you even tolerate him?”

You glare at her for a split second before going back to prying Soobin off you.

“Jungkook has no respect for women or himself. It shows in how many shitty friends he has,” Soobin chants, still clearly bitter that Yoongi dumped her.

You shake your head, rolling your shoulders back when she finally lets go of you.

“Jungkook’s not even as bad as you guys describe him,” you reply. “He’s actually been really sweet.”

The girls take a glance at each other and burst in a fit of laughter.

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Gaeun cries. You cower slightly at their words. It’s not like you said anything that controversial, did you?

Soobin slaps Gaeun on the shoulder when she realizes how your face had soured. It wasn’t right to judge you for your choice of friends so harshly, no matter how horrid said person was.

“As long as it doesn’t go past friends,” she says soothingly, but that only made you feel worse.

“Why?” you ask a little hesitantly. “Does Jungkook sleep around?”

Gaeun nods, a worrying glimpse in her eyes.

“He's not exactly the type to kiss and stay...”

You nod understandingly. You weren’t too clueless to believe Jungkook when he said he was “careful” on who he dated. As long as you knew the boundaries that came with being his tutor, everything should be fine... right?

“Don’t worry guys,” you say with determination. “I’m not the type to get played-”

“Of course you are!” Gaeun sighed. “Guys gravitate towards girls like you who lack experience. Jungkook’s a fucking weirdo, of course, he’s gonna try and-”

“[Y/N]!” a shout from across the cafe screams. That distracted you from the various insults Gaeun was spewing from her mouth. You get that she was being critical of Jungkook, but did she have to speak ill of you too?

You look around and catch Jungkook waving frantically at you. He stops at your table and takes a mere glance at your friends before setting his focus on you. 

“Do you have time to help me out today? One of the papers for my writing class-”

“You tutor him in writing now, too?!” Soobin exclaimed, mouth agape. “[Y/N], what the fuck.”

You try to ignore your friend’s overreaction, a little disheartened when Jungkook looked hurt at their words. He had started to shy away from them as if he didn’t feel welcomed.

“Nevermind, I’ll just ask you later-”

“Actually,” you say standing up. “I’m free now.”

The two girls look back and forth between you and Jungkook, noticing the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. They did not like the thought of you two together at all.

“But [Y/N]-” 

You ignored their words and start to walk away, hoping Jungkook would come catch up to you. You didn’t quite know why their insistence on him being a bad person had made your blood boil. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his flirtatious tendencies, but hearing from your friends that you shouldn’t pursue a guy that you liked-

You stopped in your tracks and feel heat climb up your face. Like.

No way you admitted that just now. There’s no possible way you actually like-

“Hey, wait up,” Jungkook pants, his hand touching your shoulder. “Why do you walk so fast for-”

He sees your shocked face and turns you towards him, his hands on your shoulder similar to how Soobin had shaken you just earlier. Except this time, it felt comforting. It made your whole body feel warm as if you were coated with a weighted blanket. Was he always this gorgeous?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, inspecting your face closely. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-nothing,” you swipe his hands away and rush out the door of the cafe. He smirks at how flustered you look, maybe he did have an effect on you after all.

Jungkook takes a last glimpse at the two girls who sat in their seats, staring at him disapprovingly. He raised an eyebrow at them and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, following after you. ‘They’ll try to get in the way,’ Jungkook thought to himself, ‘but they’re already too late.’

The girls clenched their fist out of annoyance. He was definitely trying to get on their nerves.

“There’s something strange about what’s happening,” Gaeun mutters.

“They’re up to something,” Soobin agrees. “I don’t trust him at all.”

—

It’s been a week since you last spoke to your friends, not really wanting to read the messages they bombarded you with about how you should stay for away from Jungkook. It was hard to take any of their advice seriously when they were just badmouthing him without reason. They based all their opinions on him from rumors around the school and Soobin always felt the need to compare him to Yoongi even though they both had very different personalities. Well, at least to you they seemed very different.

Frankly, you were sick of their nagging and just turned off notifications from that group chat altogether. Instead of sitting next to them during Microeconomics, you opted to sit with Jungkook in the back of the lecture hall instead of at the front with them. Jungkook had abandoned his own rowdy friend group to sit with you and flashed them quick smirks and winks whenever they’d stare at him. 

Slowly, Jungkook had started to become a constant in your day to day life. You walked to class with him, ate with him, played video games with him. It was sort of strange how used to you were of his presence, like you had known him your whole life. Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he starts humming a little tune.

He draws a heart in the corner of your notes- which you find he has a habit of doing whenever he wanted to say something stupid.

“I don’t get what he’s saying,” he pouts cutely. “It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language.”

You shake your head, not paying him any mind.

“Well maybe if you actually paid attention,” you mutter softly. He scoots closer to you and you feel yourself stiffen.

“But you’re tutoring me later on anyway,” he says teasingly. “I get more bang for my buck if I know less.”

“Bang for my buck,” you scoff. “Who even says that anymore?”

He points at himself nonchalantly and you can’t help but crack a smile as you continue to focus on the professor’s words. You don’t even cower under his gaze like you usually do when he stares at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, finally caving when Professor Kwon adjusted something in his PowerPoint slides. He smiles.

“I want to hold your hand,” Jungkook replies and you could feel your palms clam up. His flirtatious comments increased as time passed and you didn’t really quite know whether he was just teasing you or if he was genuinely interested in you. You weren’t very good at taking a hint.

“I’m writing right now...” you reply, slightly skipping a beat in your note-taking. He really was the ultimate distraction, wasn’t he?

Jungkook pouts sadly, but you can tell an idea pops up in his mind when his eyes start to glimmer. He sits his hand on your thigh and you jolt back from the touch of his hand on the material of your jeans. He pulls away slightly, scared that he had made you uncomfortable.

“I just want to put my arm around you,” he asks innocently. “Are you okay with that?”

You calm yourself down and nod. For goodness sake, you weren’t a child- why did a hand on your thigh make you so nervous for?!

“Yeah,” you say, a little more confident despite your nerves. “Go ahead.”

He smiles softly at you and connects his hand to your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It was comforting, not at all meant to be more than just a public display of affection. He finds himself getting lost in the lecture along with you, his hand playing with a loose thread on your shirt through it all. He didn’t even look at his friends who were teasing him on the other side of the class or your own friends shooting daggers into his being.

At that moment, it was you, him, and Professor Kwon giving out a lecture that had half of the students already asleep. He smiled at how diligently you worked and how your breath would quicken when Professor Kwon switched the slides without a warning. It was the little idiosyncrasies like this that caught his attention, the kind of things that made him wonder where you’d been all his life.

The smile on Jungkook’s face disappeared when he came to that realization.

Fuck.

—

Jungkook rolls around the grass while you sit on the picnic blanket you two had set up. Midterms were over and grades would soon be announced. He wanted a much-needed distraction from the monotony of constant studying and you had suggested a small picnic in a nearby park. Of course, he agreed. 

“We’re free,” he groans. “Finally free.”

Jungkook stares hungrily at the assortment of food you had laid out for the two of you. He tries to reach a hand out to grab a bottle of lemonade but ultimately fails in the end. You giggle at his silliness, popping a grape in your mouth.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you say jokingly. “Don’t think you could’ve done it without me.”

He sits up to face you, bowing deeply as if you were a traditional empress.

“Thank you,” he says, imitating a Joseon accent. He was watching far too many historical dramas recently.

“You’re embarrassing me,” you say, attempting to straighten him out. “Sit up.”

He complies, only after a few pulls from you, with a toothy grin on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t think I could have gone through the first few weeks of Professor Kwon’s class without your notes,” he sighs, opening his mouth to signal that he wanted to be fed. You roll your eyes but placed a grape between his teeth anyway.

“You have hands, you should know how to use them,” you mumble shyly.

You move to take another grape for yourself, but he grabs your wrist before you could. He intertwines his fingers into yours.

“Why should I when my hands are holding yours~,” he says in a sing-song voice. It made you want to throw up at how cheesy he was, but you couldn’t help but laugh along as he cringed at his own words. When was it so normal for him to hold your hands like this?

“You can’t go one sentence without flirting, can you?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies, but you could feel sincerity laced between his laughter. “I can’t resist flirting when it makes you all giggly like this.”

You purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling too brightly. Jungkook and you were somewhat past the point of being just friends by now, but you were too much of a coward to label what you had with him. What if there was a chance that he was just leading you on?

Jungkook saw your furrowed brows. He rubbed circles on your hands with his thumbs to ease you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks softly, about to let go.

“No-” you say a little too quickly, clasping him closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, much nearer than they were before.

“D-don’t,” you attempt to say but you’re tongue tangled as you looked at his lips. He certainly does have nice lips...

“Don’t what?” he asks in a lowly voice. You start to look around you- anywhere that wasn’t him. The park was relatively empty but it still felt embarrassing to say anything too loud.

“D-don’t let me go,” you say, your eyes on the picnic blanket rather than on him. His gaze was too intense to look at. Jungkook feels his heart clench. You were cute, too cute. 

He shouldn’t be feeling this attached to you, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did, every word that came out of your mouth- it had him wanting more from you than he could possibly handle. It was dangerous to feel this way.

“Why don’t you want me to let you go?” he asks nervously. He too was anxious for the answer. If you were to confess to Jungkook right now, he’d get the first part of the bet done, but there’d be no turning back after your confession. He would have to lie to you from now on. 

Jungkook closed his eyes, chanting to himself that it’s okay to like you for a little while, just as long as he doesn’t get too attached in the end. He needed the money, he really did.

“Because,” you start off with a sigh, staring at him now with glossy eyes. “I like you.”

Jungkook feels like he could do ten backflips in one go and it wouldn’t even drain him of energy. The smile on his face was huge, his eyes curling into that half-moon shape that made you swoon. 

Jungkook was relieved and if the boys asked, it was because he’d only have to date you for three months. He’d die before he’d admit to them that he caught feelings because Taehyung, as generous as he was with his bets, would never give Jungkook the money unless he cleanly broke up with you. It was one of his unspoken rules.

“I like you too.”

You smile at him and he can’t help but pull you close, his lips hovering over yours.

“Can I?”

You nod.

His lips graze yours slightly but he pushes a bit closer when he feels you lean into his touch. He kisses you again, and again, and again, but you pull away when his tongue had started to prod at your lips. Your face was flushed,  embarrassed to be doing this in such a public place.

“Maybe later?” you say, panting slightly. He gives you a cheeky grin and nods.

“At my place?” he asks with a wink.

You hesitate, letting go of his arms, twiddling with your fingers. You wanted to set clear labels on what your relationship was. You didn't want to accidentally get caught up in a friends-with-benefits situation and be all shocked when Jungkook ends up breaking your heart.

“So we’re dating now, right?” you ask cautiously, looking at him with a worried glint in your eyes. 

Jungkook’s mouth opens to speak but no words come out. He thinks a little harder about the whole situation... He was getting good grades, spending some quality time with a girl he’s clearly attracted to, and having his rent paid off all in one? He was killing three birds with one stone. It shouldn’t be too big of a problem to catch feelings for now, right? It’s not like any of his relationships lasted longer than a couple of months anyway.

He nods, cupping your face lightly.

“Yeah,” he hesitates. “We’re dating.”

Jungkook wasn’t aware, as he gives you another light peck, that it wasn’t possible to have his cake and eat it too.

—

It happens naturally. You coming in and out of his apartment that he shared with his friends, you tangling your legs with his underneath the sheets of his bed. It was hard to imagine a life where you didn’t wake up with him by your side. You were so wrapped up in his touch, so wrapped up in the sweet words he would whisper into your ears, that you spent most of your time with him. 

You weren’t really up to date with your friends anymore and he didn’t really hang out with his either. Jungkook shared an apartment with Seokjin and Hoseok, and so the only contact he had with the other boys was when they visited those two. He should’ve known to take you back home when all the boys bombarded into his living room, where you sat with him watching TV. 

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Taehyung coos, a mysterious glint in his eyes. “The honeymoon stage hasn’t passed quite yet, has it?”

Jungkook chucks one of the sofa’s throw pillows at his friend, obviously annoyed. What the fuck did Taehyung think he was doing?

“Quit it,” he mutters. You were sitting next to Jungkook, his arm around your shoulder protectively

“Why?” Yoongi yawns. “Anyone can see how incredibly in love you two are.”

You didn’t quite like the smirk he gave the two of you. This didn’t feel like regular teasing... it felt like he knew something that you weren't aware of. It made you curl your toes out of fear.

“Guys,” Jimin says calmly. “Stop it.”

The boys shrug their shoulders as if they said nothing wrong.

“We’re just pointing out how cute they are together,” Taehyung noted, “It’s not like we’re lying to her or anything-”

“Yeah, or leading her on or anything like that-”

“I think I should go,” you say hurriedly, uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was. Jungkook was clenching his fists, about ready to start a fight any second. Knowing his strength, you didn’t want anyone to walk around with a bruised eye because you couldn’t handle a few jokes- if that’s what Taehyung and Yoongi think they’re making. Harmless jokes.

“I’ll take you home,” Jungkook announces, standing up with you. Namjoon pulls him down back on the couch.

“Let someone else take her,” he says sternly. “We need to talk.”

Jungkook was about to protest until you spoke up.

“I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Hoseok and I can take you,” Seokjin insists, pulling the unassuming man up with him. “We don’t mind.”

Hoseok gives you a lopsided smile and you return an equally awkward one.

“Okay, that’s settled,” you say, clapping your hands. You walk over to Jungkook. “I’ll text you later okay?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and kissing it lightly. Yoongi scoffs and Taehyung glares at Jungkook. The dirty glances they were giving each other... You didn’t like it at all.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

The walk to your apartment was unnecessarily awkward, Hoseok and Seokjin were talking too much and you talked too little. You tried to respond to their every quip, but you weren’t in the mood for chatting after that whole mess.

“You okay, [Y/N]?” Hoseok asks worriedly. “Don’t think too much about what those idiots said back there, they’re like that all the time.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. There was something chipping away at the back of your mind, something you wanted to get out of your chest.

“Would you say Jungkook and Yoongi act similarly?” you hesitate to say, “like with relationships?”

The two boys exchanged nervous glances at each other.

“Well, it depends,” Seokjin starts, choosing his words specifically. “What about relationships specifically?”

“Does he...,” you start off, not knowing the right phrase without sounding too harsh, “play around with girls? Like how Yoongi played around with Soobin?”

Hoseok looked at you with a raised brow.

“Who’s Soobin?” he asks before getting punched in the arm by Seokjin. “What the fuck bro!”

Seokjin clears his throat.

“What Hoseok meant to say,” he starts, glaring at his friend a little too harshly, “is that Yoongi never really introduces us to his girlfriends. You, on the other hand, are one of the few girls Jungkook actually took the time to invite over.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok chimes in. “He’s not exactly the most chivalrous, but he wouldn’t ghost someone like Yoongi did.”

Somehow their words weren’t enough to satisfy you. There was still something off in the conversation that transpired between the three boys- as if they were all keeping something from you. You stopped abruptly in front of your apartment complex, finally making eye-contact with the two boys.

“Do you think...” you start, a slight quiver in your voice, “that Jungkook is cheating on me?”

The two boys let out a deep breath that you didn’t even notice they were holding and laughed joyously together. They cackled as if what you said was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their life. Seokjin wipes a stray tear from his eye.

“Y-you think Jungkook’s cheating on you?!”

You nod, a little embarrassed at their reaction. Hoseok shakes his head, sighing out of his laughter.

“Trust me,” Hoseok starts, his breath evening out. “Jungkook would never cheat on you.”

You start to giggle along with them until a serious look suddenly takes over Seokjin’s features. He faces you fully.

“But listen [Y/N],” he starts. “If Jungkook hurts you, just know that he does love you. Like, undeniably. He does.”

“And we’re not just saying that as his friends either,” Hoseok continues. “We know how he’s like and we can tell that he really does like you.”

You smile at the two, feeling a small sense of comfort at their words.

“Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They pat you on the back.

“Anything for Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

—

You walk through the campus cafeteria, eyes searching for a free table that you can sit alone in. Jungkook had Taekwondo practice so there would be no lovey-dovey feeding time with him. 

He’s been a lot tenser since the living room incident (which was already a week ago) and it seemed like he got more agitated as the days passed. Not towards you directly, but he’d always mutter slight insults whenever Yoongi or Taehyung passed by. It made you worried that you had done something to possibly drive a wrench into their relationship without even knowing it.

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘I’ll talk about it with him when he comes over later.’

You aren’t able to find a seat, though, when you feel dainty fingers wrap around  your elbow to pull you back lightly.

“[Y/N],” Gaeun says in a low voice. “We need to talk.”

It wasn’t like you had been ignoring them deliberately, though that was definitely the case at the start. You just couldn’t find the time to really hang out with them as much as you used to since you were with Jungkook most of the time. It was like that too when Gaeun and Soobin were in relationships, so you never really felt bad about doing it yourself.

“Yeah sure. I miss you guys,” you smile at her, but she doesn’t return it back.

“Come with me.”

Gaeun leads you to a table near the back of the room, where Soobin was sat up against the wall with her own tray of food. You sit down in front of her and Gaeun takes the seat next to Soobin.

“Good, you’re here,” Soobin says, apprehension laced in her voice. “We need to talk about Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not this again-”

“[Y/N],” Gaeun warns. “Listen.”

You keep quiet, a little intimidated of how scary their expressions were.

“It’s all a bet,” Soobin says sternly.

You furrow your brows at her. She tends to speak vaguely when you needed her to be specific the most.

“What?”

“It’s a bet, [Y/N],” Gaeun repeats for her. “Jungkook’s only dating you because Taehyung said he’d pay his rent off if he did.”

You clench your fist on the table. How could they sit there and spew lies so easily?

“What are you guys-”

“Those dicks do this all the time,” Soobin rambles. “They play stupid games with girls just to fucking break their hearts later on and-”

“I don’t believe you,” you say confidently. “Jungkook would never do that to me. Besides-”

Gaeun didn’t even wait until you stopped talking to play a recording on her phone. The voices were familiar enough to recognize.

“So you’re telling me that Jungkook’s just fucking around with [Y/N] because he wants priority registration? You have to be fucking joking...”

You could tell from the sound of the person’s voice that it was Soobin. It sounded like she was putting on her clothes.

“Of course not. He’s doing it for priority registration and his rent getting paid for the rest of the year. I’m not joking when I say Tae goes big with his bets. He likes to flex his money on us like that.”

Your jaw drops at the sound of the man’s voice. It was Yoongi. You were sure of it.

“And you guys don’t feel bad? Like at all?”

“Why should we? Jungkook’s planning to break up with her next week anyway so she doesn’t catch feelings for too long. It’s not like they were gonna last past the three-month deal...”

Gaeun paused the recording when she sees you bite your lip so harshly that blood starts to surface. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

“I hooked up with him last weekend,” Soobin admits, shame written all over her face. “He was spewing stuff about Jungkook spending all his time with you and not really hanging out with the boys like he used to.”

“You still hook up with Yoongi? After all he did to you?” you ask, not meaning to come off aggressive but undoubtedly did.

“Look,” Gauen starts, taking the heat off of Soobin. “She was just drunk and looking to have fun. I was with her that night and I was talking to Namjoon. He...”

Gaeun trailed off, but you were sick of it. Sick of being kept in the dark from something you should’ve known all along.

“What?”

“H-he told me that all the boys were getting tired of him playing around with you,” she says, twiddling with her fingers. “He’s supposed to break up with you today. Some of the guys think he’s just prolonging it to fuck with you and they’re getting really annoyed-”

You bite back the tears threatening to spill over any minute now.

“Hoseok and Seokjin told me to trust Jungkook. They said he wouldn’t hurt me-”

“Did they also tell you that their rent gets paid too if Jungkook pulled through with the bet?” Soobin replies angrily. “Because they live together, don’t they?”

You open your mouth but no sound comes out- just a small whimper. Your lips start to quiver and you bite your lip again to calm yourself down. When you had collected your thoughts, you glared up at the two girls.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?”

Soobin scoffed.

“You were fucking ignoring us too, how were we supposed to tell you?”

“Still it wouldn’t have killed you to-”

“Don’t take your anger out on us,” Gaeun warns, her finger pointing at you. “Jungkook is the one to blame. We told you from the start that he was bad news.”

You pursed your lips and Gaeun put her finger down, feeling guilty that she lashed out on you when obviously you were just processing the information.

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

“Why me?” you ask with teary eyes. “What did I even do to them to deserve this?” 

They glance over at each other for a long while before Soobin breaks the silence. You had the right to know, but at the same time, they knew it would break you.

“It’s a sick game that they play where they just choose someone randomly...” Soobin starts off gently handing off the next few words to Gaeun, “and you were just the first girl to walk into Professor Kwon’s lecture hall. He thought you’d be...”

“Easy,” Soobin finished.

Just as they predicted, you had burst out in tears.

—

Jungkook opens the door to your apartment, using the spare key you had given him a month earlier since he tended to visit often. It was more convenient that way. 

He was freshly out of his Taekwondo garb, still sweaty, but otherwise clean from taking a shower at the campus gym. He found it strange at how dark the room was, but he knew you were on the couch from the noticeable lump of a blanket on it.

All Jungkook wanted was to cuddle with you and fall asleep in your arms after such a harrowing day. Lord knows he needs your warmth right now.

He smiled as he made his way towards you, but stops in his tracks when you sit up from where you laid. He couldn’t quite see you in the darkness so he walked to the light switch to turn the lights on. His heart broke at the sight of you.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from all the crying. You looked a mess and his blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting you. 

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to you and cupping your face in his hands. You push him away.

“You don’t have to act anymore,” you say softly. “I can handle it.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about-”

“I get that you really need the money,” you say through bated breaths, “I get that financially, it would have really helped, but did you really have to hurt me to do that?”

Jungkook’s breathing stopped. Everything was happening too quickly, his world crashing down when you uttered those words. He knew what this meant, knew that now you would see past his lies. Jungkook couldn’t have you finding out this way. 

He kneeled in front of you, attempting to wipe away the tears from your eyes but you push him off.

“[Y/N] no-”

“It could’ve been anyone,” you whimper, trying to look up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling down. “Anyone could’ve walked through that door and you would’ve been okay with it.”

“That’s not true-” he interjects but you stop him.

“A-and you flirted with me all the time ‘cause you knew that I wasn’t used to it,” you say, your voice quivering. “You took advantage of me.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, eyes pleading for you to let him speak. It hurt seeing you refuse to even look at him, to have your eyes so filled with sadness because of what he did to you. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

“No, you have to listen-”

“They told me not to trust you,” you whimper somberly. “They told me and I didn’t believe them because I... I was delusional or something. I thought that someone like you could actually like someone like me-”

His heart broke. It wasn’t you that didn’t deserve him. It was him. All him.

“Please don’t say that-”

“Did you come here to seal the deal? To finally break up with me?” you ask sadly. “Are you happy you’ll get the classes you want next quarter, Jungkook?”

He clenches his teeth. Jungkook knows you’re mad, knows you have a right to be, but it feels like he’s being cornered by you. Why won’t you give him the chance to speak?

“[Y/N], no,” he says sternly, “You have to trust me when I say that it went past just a bet. I like you. Genuinely, I like you.”

There was no point in lying any longer. You deserved to know the truth, but he needed you to know all of it- not just the information your friends cherry-picked to fit their narrative. He tried to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.

“How could you,” you whimper. “How could someone be so cruel?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words. He should’ve seen this coming. How could he delude himself into thinking he’d be okay if you find out- that he’d be fine seeing you heartbroken? He was disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry [Y/N],” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your vision getting blurry from the tears. He clasps your hands in his, knowing that it used to soothe you whenever you felt worried over something, but you just wailed harder at his touch. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't even know where to start.

“Stop pretending like you care,” you cry. “Please. It hurts.”

“It was a bet,” he admits and he breaths through the words to prevent himself from getting too emotional, “but I promise that my feelings are genuine. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” you ask crudely.

You stare at him, slowing your breaths to ease the crying. There was a certain emptiness in your gaze and it scared him. It was awfully frightening having you looking at him with a certain animosity that was not there before. Like he was a stranger.

“I can’t do that anymore, Jungkook,” you say softly, “because I hate you.”

—

A/N: Gasp A double update?! Say it isn’t so... I had so much fun writing this!!! Probably one of my favorite fics I’ve written in a while because I love this trope. How do y’all feel about Jungkook? Forgive or forget? Let me know!! Thank you @altus-gens​ for requesting this story, I hope you like it :)

Please leave any comment, critiques, or just random thoughts about my story! I’m planning my murder mystery series rn and I’m so excited (I might... do an album giveaway along with it...) I really love the direction I’m taking this blog in and I hope you guys are excited for the stories to come~~ 

buy me a coffee?

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

NSFW Alphabet: Sub!Sannie Edition

A/N: I've seen a lot of dom!ateez edition for this but not really much sub!ateez, so y'all know I had to do it lol. As always, take this with a grain of salt as I do not know the ateezers irl

-------------------------

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Doesn't matter if y'all had rough and kinky sex or sweet and soft sex, this boy will always be blissed out when y'all are done. He needs all the sweet kisses on his cheeks, his neck freckles, knuckle kisses, and cuddles. Whisper praise to him and feed and hydrate him...and give him a bath if it was a particularly rough session complete with washing his hair.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's most proud of abs because not only would he be able to see (and feel) a tummy bulge with ur larger strap on/large dick, he also knows it earns him praise from you because of how hard he works for them. On you, he can't choose his favorite: he'd sway between your lips and the way they make him shudder, your fingers and the way they dig into his hips, and your legs that he could hold onto in missionary, whether thicc or skinny.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He definitely loves to eat cum, both yours and his, but especially his when it's paired with degradation. He also loves the feeling of you cumming in his ass and it never fails to send him over the edge and wiped out so quickly...he will beg for this. If you have a pussy, make him eat you out after he came inside, it's one of his favorite things.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's really private with intimacy and prefers not to show off...however, at least once, he would love nothing more than for you to take him in front of a camera and treat him as nothing more than a useless plaything for your pleasure, showing everyone that you own him and then gift the tape to his members...perhaps to lead them to a whole ass orgy where he gets absolutely destroyed by everyone on your command.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to popular belief, he's not as experienced as we might be inclined to believed. He's probably only had a couple of partners because he fell in love way too fast and might have messed around with a couple of members, but overall he's only kind of experienced. He knows what he's doing as a baseline, but it's also different for different people, so he quickly learns YOUR body and its responses.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Honestly depends on his mood: if he wants it fast, rough, and completely fucked out it's doggy style hands-down; if he wants it slow and sensual, good old missionary with his legs laid over your thighs so he can squeeze them when the bedsheets aren't enough.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Most of the time, he likes to be more serious with sex because he views this type of intimacy as people sharing each other and putting utmost trust in each other but every once in a while he'll want soft, giggly sex where you two simply exist in a moment and in each other without the filth of kinky rough sex.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I'm more than positive all of them, at the bare minimum, trim their pubes for logistical reasons but I think San probably just full on shaves down there as a matter of principle: if he likes you to be clean shaven down under, he'll put in the same effort for you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

As I've said, he's a very intimate person, so he treasures every single moment every time you two have sex. No matter how far deep into sub space he gets or how severe his punishments, his heart will always fill up with joy and happiness whenever you two get intimate. He's also very possessive and he feels 1000x moreso when sex is involved which is why his orgy fantasy will be nothing but a fantasy for quite a while.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate too often because the relief of the release is not satisfactory and he only really does it when it becomes an annoyance or interference in his daily routines. BUT. When he's on tour and finds himself on the rare occasion that he is aching for your touch, he'll take a pair of your used panties he snuck into his baggage and jack off in the shower to the thought and smell of you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This kinky mf will try most everything once. Some of his kinks include but are not limited to breeding (you breeding him and him breeding you, depending on if he's a service top in the moment), restraints (i.e., shibari, handcuffs), sensory deprivation (i.e., blindfolds), tummy bulge (in him), hair pulling, choking, cum eating, mommy/noona/hyung/daddy/master/mistress/etc., dollification, edging, pegging/anal play, biting, nipple play, and cock rings.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers the bed above all else because it resembles a little nest of blankets, pillows, and plushies which makes him feel the safest in whatever the mood y'all have goin on. He is not, however, opposed to being railed on the countertop.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Hmmmm I think a better question is what doesn't turn him on. He's definitely a kinky fucker and a sex fiend, but among his top turn ons are ass groping, lip biting, hair tugging, and gentle pats on his lower back, especially if you're doing it to guide him somewhere. Also the Voice (tm), especially in public!

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Deliberately ignoring him, even if it is out of playfulness and teasing on your end. I don't peg him as an attention whore by any means, but he is very sensitive to being included/excluded and the like, so this would only genuinely hurt him, especially if you decide to drag it out for longer than a couple of minutes.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

This man LIVES for eating you out and/or sucking you off, whether that's a strap on or actual dick. It gets him going so much so please let him just go down you at any time, any day, nearly any where. He doesn't like receiving much because he doesn't get too much pleasure -- he doesn't make him feel subby at all and that's not something he particularly likes but if you really want to, he'll let you go down on him every once in a blue moon.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

As emphasized previously, it very much depends on his mood, but he'll typically want fast and rough on his more stressful days and slow and sensual on his more "down" days when he needs to be reminded that he is loved for more than just his body, that he is more than just his body. The soft and giggly sex he'd want when he's in a very happy mood and just wants to share that warmth with you, the sweet thing.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's not really that into quickies, but if you want one or two, he's not gonna put up a fight lol.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Again, he'll do nearly everything once, so yes, experimentation/risk is the name of his game.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

During fast and rough intercourse, he could probably go three rounds with overstimulation but during slow and sensual intercourse, he could do a strong single round or a questionable two rounds because the slow and sensual one tends to be more emotionally exhausting than fast and rough for him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Ofc the sweetheart owns toys! Miss Size Queen has his own dildos, vibrators, anal beads, handcuffs, and nipple clamps. Most of these things he uses on himself and his partner uses on him, but every once in a while the partner will use one or two things on themselves to tease and punish the poor boy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he's being a brat, he will tease you to no end until you have his ass and remind him to behave. Most of the time, though, it's his partner that's teasing him and he might try to tease you back out of revenge. Keyword: try.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

San is loud as hell in bed and there is no convincing me otherwise. He will let out the most sinful moans, cutest little whimpers, and high pitched whines so muffle his mouth with your used panties/underwear or stuff his mouth with your fingers to decrease his volume. The only time he's not being loud is when he's so completely fucked out that all he can do is whimper, drool endlessly for your strap on/dick, and roll his eyes in the back of his head.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves it when you make him cry from fucking him so good. The first time he cried from fucking was when you two tried out mirror sex and you forced him to look himself in the eye in the mirror and he was absolutely gone. This kind of fucking, however, leaves him kind of sore in the ass for the next couple of days so y'all rarely do it when he's working on promotions and a comeback so when y'all can do it...well, he won't be walking for a while.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He's a little longer than average, but not by much; he also has average girth. This doesn't bother you, though, as you're the one fucking him most of the time and he knows how to use his dick, anyway, so it hasn't caused any problems between the two of you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a pretty high sex drive, so when you're not in the mood and he is, you indulge him in guided masturbation either with his hand or via plushie fucking. You'll also let him ride your thigh if you can handle that or give him a quick handy. However if you both have the same high sex drive, y'all gonna have a lot of sex at many times during the day.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tends to fall asleep pretty quickly, passing out within like 20 minutes of y'all finishing. If, though, it was soft and giggly sex, he wouldn't fall asleep at all, he'd just snuggle into you and talk about cute things he saw that day or scroll through social media for cats or some cute shit because he's not really tired, just very warm and very content...dare I say, like a cat in the sun.

[alice-angel12x]

☁Centaur!Shouto x reader

It was a bright hot summer day, not even a cloud in the sky. It would be a perfect day for a good centaur racing, I would say.

"And what a beautiful day here in our small town of Seris. The perfect weather for a good Race, right Aizawa?" Present Mic's voice boomed over the arena.

"Augh. I would be at home asleep right now," Mr.Aizawa complained.

"Anyway it's the last lap for the race and number 27 Endeavor with rider Hawks is still holding first place, with number 1 All Might with rider Night eye on their tail. Which is exciting cause both centaurs have won both Preakness Stakes, and Belmont Stakes. If either one wins they will be the next triple crown," mic explained.

He was right the race was heated. All Might started to catch up with endeavor, but Endeavor was still in the lead by a nose.

"We're not going to win this," Night eye sighed as he eyed up Hawks and his centaur.

"Don't give up nighteye, we can still win this. The hurdles are the last obstacle," All Might gasps as he continues to run full throttle.

Up ahead were a few rows of fences laid out 176 yards away from the finish line.

As the two centaurs leaped over the fecenes, Endeavor failed to time his leap and knocked over the fence. Causing him to trip and send his rider flying. All Might and Night eye made it past the fences and sped ahead to take the win. As endeavor watched on as he felt the glare of his owner in the stand.

Farther away was a small pen that held the little colts, that also watched the race.

"Man did you see that, All Might Won. Know he's the triple Crown," A young colt Izuku said in awe.

"Ha, when I become a strong stallion, I'll be the next triple crown," Katsuki said confidently.

Shouto a young colt was in awe of All night's strength and aura. He wanted to be strong like him.

___________

When Shoto and Endeavor returned home, their life changed drastically. Their owner Figs started to do the bare minimum to take care of them. It got so bad that endeavors mate Rei died of malnutrition. After that loss in the race, Fig took out his anger on the centaurs.

Endeavor wasn't any better. Every day he forced his colts and fillies to run and train. His oldest son died of exhaustion from Endeavor, and lack of nutrition from Fig.

The other two siblings were eventually sold to other owners. Leaving Shouto alone in that old barn. ____

"Faster Shouto, you never be a triple Crown with that speed," Endeavor said as he whipped Shouto.

Shouto kept running till he came to an abrupt stop, as he threw up near an old tree. Endeavor cracked his whip as a warning to Shoto.

Shouto gasped as he got back but and ran till dawn.

"Humph, you have lots of room for improvement. Get to your stall and rest. We're continuing this tomorrow," Endeavor said not even looking at Shouto.

Shouto said made his way to his stable as he waited in his stall. Eventually, Fig came and dropped two nearly rotten apples in his food pale. Shouto grimaced and Fig noticed. Which did not make him happy.

"What not good Enough for you. You little s***!" Fig shouted as he grabbed a hot kettle and threw a cup's worth of boiling water at his face.

Shouto screamed in pain as he clutched the left side of his face.

"NOW YOUR PLACE. I OWN YOU!" Fig yelled in anger as he stormed out of the barn.

Shoto looked over to his father's stall, which was across from him. Only to see that his father just stared at him with no emotion. He simply shook his head and turned away.

It felt like the who world shatters as he felt nothing anger towards his father, Fig, Everything. From that day he refused to train or cooperate. Which lead to Him being beaten, whipped, and starve.

"How long are you going to stay on your foolish strike? I won't benefit you in the long run," Endeavor said as he went to sleep.

But Shoto didn't reply as quickly dug up the spare key to his stall. Quietly he unlocked his stall, then the barn door. Once outside he locked the door and made a run for the forest.

The forest was dark and quiet. It felt like Shoto was walking for miles, but didn't feel safe to rest anywhere in the forest. As he continued onward, Shoto tried and fell down a steep hill and hurt his right front leg. He cried out in pain as the pain was almost bearable. He limps forward and Eventually gets out of the forest to see... A barn out in the distance.

At first, Shoto was confused, did he walk in one big circle. Sadly he was too tired and sore to keep walking. As he collapsed where he stood.

The sun peeked above the horizon as the rooster crowed into the morning sky. Sunlight poured into the barn where Shouto laid. His eyes slowly open as he pushed himself upright.

It took him a few seconds to realize he was in a barn. He quickly got to his feet only to feel a sharp pain him his front leg. Cried in pain as he bumped into the side of his stall. It caused A huge ruckus as the stall across from his stirred. He closed his eyes tight expecting his father to scold him, only to hear a different voice.

"Hey keep it down over there. So of use are still trying to sleep," a young voice called out.

Shouto looked over to see a young centaur colt. Around his age with odd purple hair and baggy eyes.

Suddenly another voice calls out.

"What's going on over there?" A female voice asked this time.

Another centaur filly, as his age was in the stall next to the purple guy. She had fair skin and jet black hair tied into a ponytail.

"W-were am I?" Shouto asked.

"You are in a barn on the Aizawa family's land," The girl explained. "I'm Momo by the way. And this guy is Shinsou," she introduced.

"Shoto," Shoto said simply.

Shouto quickly inspects himself and sees he is covered in bandages. His coat and hair were all muddy and messy.

Suddenly the barn door opened revealing a young girl with h/c hair and e/c eyes. She looked a year or two younger than Shouto.

She came into the barn and started to drop apples, carrots, and some oats into their food pale. Shouto backs up to the corner of the stall, suspicious of the new human. The girl eventually comes over to his stall with a smile as she places his breakfast in the food pile. Shouto glared at her the entire time. Though she didn't seem to be bothered by that, as she continued her chores.

"Momo, who is that?" Shouto asked.

"That is y/n, she is one of the caretakers here, she is also my partner in pageants," Momo said proudly.

"Bad experiences with humans, Shouto?" Shinsou asked.

"You could say that,'' Shouto said.

Eventually, y/n came back with some bandages and cleaning supplies, and entering Shouto's stall. He tensed up as he saw her approach him. She slowly got on her knees and got slightly closer to him.

"Hello, there I'm y/n. I just want to change your bandages," She said softly. "And what's your name?" She asked.

Shouto didn't say anything as he tried to back away from her even more. Y/n slowly started to get closer only for Shoto to snap at her. She remained calm as she held out her hand, as it started to glow a light blue.

Suddenly all of Shouto's fears and anger began to slip away. So did his energy as he slowly laid on his side. Then y/n got to work on his bandages. Once she was finished she started to stroke Shoto's hair. Shouto didn't mind this as he leaned into it.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it. Though you really need a bath,"  Y/n giggled slightly.

The bath was a whole new experience for Shoto. He could feel her massaging his muscles, and scrubbing deep into his dirty coat. He had never felt so relaxed in his life before. But after it, he never felt too fresh and clean before. As Y/n began to rub a dry towel on his head, and then down his body. Without even knowing he was slowly leaning onto y/n.

"Shouto... My name is Shouto," He finally answered.

"That's a lovely name," Y/n said as she continued to brush his hair and coat.

Y/n cleaned him up and left him to rest for the day. As Shouto laid down in pure bliss for the first time. He felt fresh and clean, with a full stomach for once.

"Maybe living with them a little longer wouldn't hurt," Shouto mumbled to himself.

------------------ x

Part.2 coming soon. I hope you liked it and have some requests for me. Soo sees you next time.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Similar Tastes” Pt. 2

Summary: After Harry and you leave the bar, you can’t stop fighting, but it leads to one of the best nights of your life

Did someone order smut with a side of smut and an extra topping of SMUT?!? because that’s what we’ve got and some cuteness at the end but holy shit.

You guys were so awesome about part 1 and then I got some requests to do a smutty part 2 so ENJOY, this sealed my fate to hell so yeah bahah. - not proofread bc the app is trash and posted before I was ready

Word Count: 3.8k | Warnings: SMUT, slight degradation kink?, daddy kink, it’s not as dirty as i thought it was now that i’m writing this warning

Pt. 1

-

“Ouch! Can you scoot back?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I cannot believe you.”

You and Harry hadn’t made it the entire short trip back to his house without fighting. Despite how completely hot you were for each other, the bickering just never seemed to end. Now you were straddling his lap still inside his parked car in his driveway. You had decided kissing would cut out the talking, but now your ass was shoved uncomfortably against his steering wheel and you were feeling extremely crushed rather than sexy. And Harry wouldn’t move.

Harry’s lips peeled off of the side of your neck and glared up at you, “Let’s just go inside.”

You huffed, “Yeah, this isn’t working.”

He popped open the car side door and you climbed off of him and adjusted your top that now had your tits spilling out of it. Harry grinned at the sight, “Don’t need to put those away now, love, ‘bout to see it all soon.”

“Not if you keep speaking to me like that.” You began to stalk up to Harry’s front door, crossing your arms with your head held high. You had begun to question why you had agreed to go home with Harry when he truly could be a total jerk. He jogged to catch up with you and when he reached your side, his large hand landed a slap on your ass and you remembered why, he made you horny.

“Don’t be like that…” He whispered close to your ear and you bucked your head into his shoulder in response.

After opening the door and ushering the pair of you in, Harry’s hands pushed you up against the door with fervor and went to kiss you. As his wet pink lips were about to connect with yours, you turned your head and he only kissed your cheek. Exasperated, Harry’s forehead rested against yours. “What now?”

“Say sorry,” you stated.

“What?!” His head moved back and his eyes stared wildly at you in the dim lighting of the house.

“Apologize for being rude or you can forget about fucking me...all night long,” you smirked, feeling extremely powerful in this moment.

“Y/N…” Harry contemplated it for a minute, to give in and have a good night or continue to fight and do nothing. His growing erection tugged at his attention as it began to press into your leg and he decided his best option was to give in, “I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?” Your head tilted as a finger trailed down his chest.

“For being rude…”

“And?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“Apologize for how you’re always stepping on my toes.”

“Am not!” Harry was over your little power trip, “You got your apology, no let’s get back to what we’re actually here for.” He went in to kiss you and you granted him a peck before pulling back again.

“You’re unbelievable, Harry-” He ignored your words and cut you off by moving his mouth down to your neck, beginning to suck vigorously. Your body shivered at his touch, gripping onto his shoulder for some sort of purchase.

“Oh yeah, tell me how much you fucking hate me, sweetheart,” he breathed against your neck eventually. His hands were gripping both of your ass cheeks and the pressure of his dick against your thigh had your wetness growing instantly. Trying to choke down a moan, you whimpered, “I do hate you…”

He licked up the side of your neck and nipped at your ear lobe, whispering he said, “Sure ya do.” He was mocking you and you were loving it, feeling like you were about to melt in his hands. Like you had said earlier, you both had similar tastes in bed. So you felt ecstatic to actually be in his arms right now.

His lips pressed open mouth kisses along your jaw and you were trying, and failing, to keep your panting to a minimum. Your wetness was only growing as Harry continued to press his broad chest against your heaving breasts. He slipped a leg between yours, as he had in the bar alleyway, and pressed up into your clothed heat.

“Fuck..” you sighed.

“Panting like a fuckin’ bitch in heat for my cock, huh? Can feel your wet pussy throbbing for me, pet.” Harry spat out as he continued to suck on every inch of skin that was exposed, from your lips to your neck to your cleavage. It felt amazing, but you wanted more.

Suddenly, Harry flipped your body around so that your front was pressed against the doorway, his hard dick pressed between your ass cheeks. His lips went back to your neck, one of his hands gripped low on your hip and the other went to hold onto your throat. His hold on your neck caused your head to be shoved back on his chest. He was constricting your breathing in the most perfect way, turning you on even more at just the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered out meekly at his words and actions, feeling blissfully overwhelmed. You managed to push your ass up against his crotch more, but that was about the extent of your will power in that moment.

“Remember when you were doing this with that woman? Your little pretty mouth on her neck, your body moving perfectly against hers. Had to force myself to look away, was starting to get hard from just the sight.”

You moaned as you felt Harry’s large hand go down and cup your mound over your pants. You cursed yourself for wearing trousers out, then you wouldn’t have been matching with Harry and he’d now have extremely easy access to where you wanted him now.

Gaining a little strength, you pulled from Harry’s grasp and faced him again. Your hands began to tug at the few buttons that were still done on his shirt. As you worked, you pushed him further into the house hoping he’d get the hint to take you to his room.

“Then that actual asshole came up. You looked fucking hot with all that rage in your eyes,” Harry sighed as he pulled you to his room, his hands never leaving yours even if you weren’t kissing. “Wanted to beat him up, though, for what he said.”

“Yeah, I’d never seen you that angry,” you finished with his shirt and Harry finished pulling it off of him. Your hands ran down his chest, feeling the grooves created by his muscles and seeing the black ink of his tattoos, “Fucking hot…” Then they went for his belt, but Harry stopped you, “You need to be much less dressed, pet.” He tugged off your tiny navy top and you reached around for your bras clasp, again he stopped you and took his own nimble fingers to take it off for you. As the bra slid down your arms, Harry’s lips flew to your right nipple, engulfing it with a slight groan. A hand ran up your naked figure and squeezed at the other one as his tongue swirled at your nipple, causing it to pebble.

Then he rasped, “Pants.” But you simply stood there, staring at him with terribly large doe eyes. You were throbbing for him, but you wanted him to be more aggressive with you. When you did nothing, his mouth and hands left your body and he stood up straight. His large body towered over yours and a smirk grew on his face as he scanned your frame.

“I said, pants.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself.”

“Oh, so you’re also a stuck up princess in the bedroom, too? Makes sense.”

Harry was quick to unbutton your pants and then yank them, along with your thong, down your legs, leaving you completely exposed. As you went to kiss him, he roughly turned you around again, pulling your back into him and sitting on his bed. His arm was wrapped around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder. He widened his legs, causing yours to follow suit, which led you to be completely spread for him. Your breathing was heavy, your tits heaving up and down in anticipation for what Harry was about to do next. With his free hand, he rested it on your right knee and began to drag his fingertips up your thigh at an agonizingly slow rate. Your hips bucked in anticipation when he was about halfway up your thigh. He wasn’t kissing you at all, his wide eyes trained on your lower body on top of his clothed legs. You felt him swallow hard against you due to your movement on top of his dick.

“Keep still, pet, trying to focus.”

His arm around your waist gripped tighter and you let out a shaky breath. His fingertips moved further away from your heat as punishment. Your legs widened, trying to entice Harry to move faster as you laid against his toned body. The heat that his body emitted was burning your skin. The way his soft skin of his chest felt against your back was intoxicated, you wanted to touch and kiss every inch of it. But Harry wasn’t happy with the movement, his hands stopped again. You both were in agony, needy for each other, but the name of the game was ‘similar tastes’, so you both knew you loved the chase.

“I told you,” Harry growled, “to not move. Do you just want Daddy to stop? Is that what you want, pet?”

And there it was. The daddy kink. You moaned loudly at his words, unable to hold back now.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

He tensed, but then he continued his slow travel to your center, his fingers growing impatient. His arm around your waist slid up to your throat again, “Now that really is no way to talk to me now is it? M’gonna have to punish you, yeah?” Your head strained to look back at Harry and he allowed it. Your eyes meeting his and you bit your lip in response, his fingers just at the fleshy crease between your thigh and your pussy now. “You’re filthy, though, so I know that’s what you’ve wanted all along, hmm?”

His rough hand now cupped over your bare mound, “Answer me, pet.”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“You’re forgetting something…Not gonna touch you until you say it.”

You whispered, almost inaudibly, “Daddy…”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He said happily, his voice still containing that low rasp as he gripped over your pussy, not dipping in yet just holding it tightly. His grip also tightened on your neck a bit and you felt completely held up by Harry’s two hands. Your breathing got even heavier and then you screamed. Harry let a single finger slip between your folds and the juices came spilling out around it. You were so wet for him and the small movement had you pushing down hard on his hand. He flicked it up to your clit and swirled around there for a moment before pushing back down and inside your weepy hole.

“So fucking wet, it’s almost unbelievable. Except I know what a slut you are, so fucking needy for my cock.” You had no idea what to say, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and you loved being taken control of like this in the bedroom, even with Harry - maybe especially with Harry.

He took you off of his lap and threw you onto the bed, your body splayed out for him, your dripping pussy glistening up at him through the darkness.

“What? No comeback?” He began, undoing his belt and taking off his pants. His hard cock sprang free, leaving him completely naked as well. “Who knew all I had to do was get you in bed to finally shut you up?” He spread your legs apart again, knees falling out by your hips. He stared down at your naked body and devoured it with his eyes.

“Come on, tell me you hate me. Lie to my face, Y/N.” His body came between your legs, his lips hovering over your dripping cunt for a moment before continuing up your body until he was face to face with you. His now freed dick was laying perfectly nestled between your pussy lips as he stared down at you. The head pressing down on your plumped clit. His neck strained as he held himself up and your eyes flickered down between your bodys to see where they were connected. His golden skin that stretched perfectly over every dip and curve of his body had you screaming inside. This moment was a thousand degrees and you wanted it to last forever.

“Hello? Is there anyone still in there?” Harry took a hand from beside your face and tapped on your cheek. You nodded about to open your mouth and say something coherent. “Actually, you know what, save your lies, I have a better idea for when you can tell me them.”

He leaned down and pressed an oddly sweet kiss to your lips. Then he shifted the pair of you back further on the bed. He leaned back on his knees and gripped his dick in one hand. He reached his other out to your mouth, “Spit,” you easily complied. He switched hands, gave his dick a few pumps and then lined it up with your opening. Without any further warning his thrusted deeply inside of you. For the second time that night, you screamed, and then you screamed out Harry’s name when he gave you a second thrust. He had your body arched off the bed as he sat up on his knees with your legs wrapped around his hips, your heels digging into the top of his ass, and his hands gripping your hips. His abs were rippling as he held the two of you up. But then he stopped, his green eyes were now the color of a dark abyss and they were boring straight through you. You whined out, “Harry, what the fuck?”

“Tell me a lie.”

“What?”

“If you want me to keep fucking your needy little cunt, tell me one reason you hate me. For every lie, you get another thrust of my cock.”

His words with his cock sheathed inside of you almost made you cum right there. His dick was completely stretching and filling you up and you could feel your juices dripping out of where you were connected. You needed him to move.

“I fucking hate you…” you seethed. “Uh-huh, tell me why,” Harry egged you on and began to pull out slightly, the movement making you shudder and struggle for words. “Because you wear the same clothes as me.”

“Good.”

He pulled completely out until just his tip was at your entrance. You felt empty and wanted him back, he pushed harshly back inside, both of you moaned out at the feeling.

“I hate you because you think you’re the best at everything,” you moaned out, Harry thrusted.

“Right back at you,” He growled.

“I hate you because you steal the spotlight.”

“Again, you.” Harry thrusted.

As much as he liked this game he had created, the sweat on his forehead was starting to pool, he needed to fuck you faster or else he was going to lose it. Seeing you laid out around him, writhing in pleasure, panting insults as you gripped the sheets and your tits, it was all too much.

“I hate you...because you’re too fucking slow at this,” you gasped as he gave you another slow thrust.

He leaned forward and kissed one of your tits before sticking his tongue into your mouth and sucking harshly. You kissed back fervently, needing any sort of release from the agony of the pressure building inside of you.

“You’re right, you’re taking too long to give me even mediocre lies,” he whispered once he pulled away.

With his dick inside of you, Harry took your legs from around him and flipped you around him. Again you screamed and Harry smirked at the sound, he loved to hear the way you sounded just because of him. He gripped your hips from behind now, fingers digging into your fleshy hips and ass, marking you as his. He did a quick preliminary thrust to test out the feel of this new position. With your head already pushed into the bed and your hands grabbing out in front of you, you moaned loudly.

“That’s better,” Harry muttered, taking one hand to land a loud smack onto the side of your ass. You jumped forward, but his other hand held you in place. “Be a good girl.”

Then he’s off, his hips snapping into action, pistoning his cock deep inside your folds. The sounds you two made with your body were obscene in the most literal sense. The squelching of your juices when his cock disappeared inside of you mixed with the hearty moans Harry and you were both emitting was a symphony of pleasure.

Eventually your moans turned to high-pitched repeated chants of “Uh-huh” as your release neared. Harry’s hips never slowing down, possibly moving even faster, he enjoyed hearing you come undone beneath him, your body bouncing just with the sheer force of his dick inside of you. “Gonna cum?” His thrusts never ceasing, his chest glistening with sweat as his cross pounded against it with each push inside of you. He rubbed over the red spot on your ass from him slapping you before.

You moaned out, “Yes daddy!”

“Tell me how much you hate me again?” He asks, pounding relentlessly, trying to tip you over the edge. He slaps your ass again, stinging your cheek and sending that feeling throughout your body, “Tell me.” His moans were out of control, yet his voice when he spoke was almost completely calm, if only slightly breathless.

He pulls out, punishing you for not answering fast enough. “Harry…” you whine. He grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed so now your feet are on the ground. He kicks your feet so that you widen your legs and shoves his angry red cock back inside your walls. He’s just about ready to cum as well, but he wants you to say something first. He begins speeding back up to his original speed as he grabs your body and brings it flush against his. Both your bodies are clammy against one other, beads of sweat running down your spine and between his pecs. He brings one hand to your tit and squeezes it hard, another moan escapes your mouth. Then, his other goes down your stomach and lands on you clit. As he begins to rub, he asks you again to tell him.

Finally, you breath out, in time with his thrusts, “I” “Fucking” “Hate” “You” “Ha-aahhhh” You don’t get to finish your sentence, your body begins to convulse in Harry’s grip, your orgasm overtaking any brain function. His dick is still bobbing in and out of you, but Harry released your body from against his, and you fall back down to the bed.

As he chases his own release, he moans out in complete euphoria how your pussy has gripped and tightened around his cock after your orgasm. It’s like it was milking him and his thrusts became completely erratic. Finally he released, his load spurting inside you and painting your walls with cum. He collapsed on top of your body on the bed, exhausted.

“I hate you, too,” he whispered into your ear, pecking a kiss on your cheek that wasn’t pressed into the bed.

As you laid there, coming down from your highs, you began to feel bits of Harry’s cum drip down your leg.

“Harry, you need to get off of me.”

“But I like it here, feels nice.”

“Your cum is starting to drip out of me, not to mention your dick’s still in there too.”

“Like I said, feels nice.”

He was right, it was hot. Feeling the pressure of him all around you after what had just happened. You were completely consumed by this man. He was everything for however long you two had just been fucking and you had loved it. The way he had taken control, the way he’d made you feel, all of it.

After a few more moments, however, he did listen to your request and slid out of you. He went to his bathroom to clean the two of you up and brought you back a t-shirt so you didn’t have to be naked.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, staring down at Harry who had just wiped down your pussy with a warm washcloth.

He nodded and rose back up to dispose of the washcloth somewhere else, leaving you in the center of his bed, swimming in the random t-shirt he had given you. You had slowly regained your normal pattern of breathing, but you were completely wiped out with exhaustion. When

Harry came back, you asked, “What time is it?”

“Half past 2”

“Shit…” you looked around, not even seeing your own clothes, “that’s late.”

“You can stay here?”

“I don’t have to.”

“It’s okay with me,” Harry shrugged.

“Really?”

“Of course, I meant what I said earlier, Y/N. I care about you, I’m not going to send you out to find your way home at 3 am.” He’d found a clean pair of boxers and slid onto the bed next to you. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and you stared up at him.

“I know what we did just now was, like, a hate fuck...But I don’t hate you, Harry.”

He laughed softly at your words, “I gathered.”

You swatted at his bicep, but smiled brightly, “Shut up!”

“Told you to tell me lies and you told me reasons you hated me, meaning you actually don’t hate me at all.”

“I know that, I was there!”

“Oh my god, it’s never ending with you, huh?” Harry moaned as he wrapped his arms around you and brought the pair of you into a laying down position, with your body on top of his.

“Ok, daddy,” you mocked.

“Hey! I know you liked that just as much as I did,” he huffed.

You grinned, your face millimeters from his also smiling face. “Yeah, yeah I did,” you say. Then your voice grew a lot more serious and a lot softer. You stared straight into Harry’s eyes and his expression grew soft. “Y’know as much as I like passionate, hate sex..I also like, um, y’know, like passionate, loving sex.”

“I - me too. We could try that, too, next time,” Harry’s eyes brightened at your suggestion and he ran a hand down the backside of your hair, petting you softly, comforting you.

“We might need to be a little nicer to each other, in regular life, too,” your statement coming out more as a question. Your fingers fiddling with themselves on top of Harry’s broad chest.

“I think I can manage that. Maybe we can talk about what we’re planning on wearing to places beforehand so that we don’t end up wearing matching outfits.”

“Or! If this ever did become serious, we could be one of those couples who coordinated their outfits.”

You both burst out in laughter at your facetious suggestion. Simultaneously you both said, “Never!”

Harry craned his neck up and planted a kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, pressing your lips down so he could lay back and kiss you more easily. His hand cradled the back of your neck and your lips danced together softly, enjoying each other’s presence.

-

taglist: @delfidemarco @detroitkiwis @burberryharold @avhrodite @iconicharry

@cronias13 @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @harrys-cherrry @harrxier @sltwins @awesomebooklover17 @harrys-stan

[polishksiezniczka]

Camerlengo Patrick McKenna Smut ABCs | Camerlengo x Female Reader

Some smut for our favorite priest ❤

As I was writing this, I couldn’t help but think that our favorite ~il camerlengo~ shares the trifecta of smut with Obi-Wan Kenobi: religious devotion, dramatic robes and pure, raw sexual energy. 🔥

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Patrick is oh so attentive and considerate. He strokes your body softly, listening as your heartbeats gradually slow and fall in sync together. He’ll softly whisper declarations of love to you in his luscious accent, making you flush even more.

Bonus: When you’re in each other’s arms bathing in the afterglow, he adores it when you carefully play with his crucifix necklace (you better believe he wears it during sex after you *accidentally* let slip how turned on you get when he wears it).

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Patrick loves to hold you using his upper body strength—his arms are deliciously strong and toned, but not in an overly-muscular way. He can’t help but groan and roll his head back when you cling to them for dear life during the throes of passion, your nails lightly digging into his skin.  

It’s difficult for him to choose—you’re too perfect to pick just one element. If he had to, he’d choose your hair, your neck, or your breasts.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Because he was brought up in the Church, he doesn’t really do that sort of thing. Not to mention he views the practice as somewhat degrading to you.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs).

Obviously, you. He’s a priest and supposed to be “married” to the Church!

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Patrick is somewhat experienced. While serving in the army he had a few exploits, but he’s still relatively inexperienced. Not that you could ever tell though—he’s the best lover you’ve ever had.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Missionary! (HAHAHA…I’m going to hell for this.)

Patrick loves any sort of position where he’s able to see you fully. He treats sex as if it were a sacred rite: he wants to be able to watch the desire cloud your eyes, thoroughly kiss your soft lips, devour the creamy flesh of your torso, and do nothing less than worship you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It depends on the situation. Patrick will usually take things pretty seriously—intensely pleasuring you, maintaining fervent eye contact, going slow and sensual—but sometimes you find yourselves in a giddy mood, especially after something good has happened to one of you. Then his playful side will come out: little nips at your ears and neck, gentle tickling of your sides, low chuckles, and a lot more teasing than normal. You delight in rendezvous like these, batting your eyes and telling him how much you want him.  

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

OH GOD. You know how well Patrick takes care of himself. His hair is impeccable, always neatly combed and styled. You adore running your fingers through it and lightly scratching his scalp, though you’re careful not to muss it up too much.

The sight of his bare chest makes your heart flutter every time you see it. You love to card your fingers through the lovely patch of curly ginger hair which grows there, a huge turn-on for Patrick. The same hair starts again just below his navel, creeping down his stomach and past his waistband. It’s another part of him that never fails to make you swoon and unconsciously lick your lips.  

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Patrick is so romantic. He constantly whispers you how much he loves you, how much you mean to him, and how he can never be without you. Despite the unimaginable pleasure he provides you, his words sometimes make you teary-eyed during the moment—something you find extremely embarrassing but he adores.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Patrick suffers from SERIOUS Catholic guiltiness when it comes to masturbation. He’s done it before (when he was younger especially) but would never admit so to you. He only resorts to pleasuring himself when you’re apart for extended periods of time and always feels the need to confess to his sins of “taking his flesh” afterward.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise: Patrick’s need to praise you is insatiable and he does it constantly when you’re together. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how perfect you are, how sweet you smell, or how well you respond to him as he leans close to your ear, kissing and sucking. Although he can be reticent to accept compliments himself, you can tell how much it affects him when you whisper how only he can bring you this amount of love, pleasure, and satisfaction.

Priest: Patrick goes mad when you play into your priest kink and loves it when you call him “Father,” especially because you don’t often do so. As gentle as he is, this drives him wild, animalistic almost.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

On the bed or couch, especially with your hair splayed out across a pillow. You recently introduced him to shower sex, something he enjoys far more than he expected to. And of course, always somewhere private.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your soft, innocent touches that lead to lingering thoughts and desires. When you run your hands across his chest and through his hair. Whispering how much you love and want him.

Oddly enough, your modesty also makes him hot under the collar (literally). The idea that you conceal your beautiful figure to others and only allow him to see and adore it awakens a deep and primal lust in Patrick.  

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t swear that often and never uses the Lord’s name in vain. He also would never do anything that could hurt you or in some way degrade you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He strongly prefers to give. He loves to huskily tell you how much you taste like sin when he’s between your thighs and caressing you with his mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual—it’s called lovemaking for a reason.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

You and Patrick don’t really engage in these because of the nature of your relationship—there are few moments when you can spend time together during the day. Patrick doesn’t like the idea either, as he can’t properly worship your body as much as he believes you deserve and derives so much pleasure from taking his time with you. He is never one to complain about stolen kisses, though.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Again, due to his position and all the publicity, Patrick prefers to keep risks to a minimum. He never would demand anything of you, but he requests that your liaisons be kept private out of concern for you and your relationship.

Once, however, you admitted a shameful desire of yours, and he gave in. So, late one night you made love in a confessional. Although he felt like he would be cursed with eternal damnation, he couldn’t help but admit how arousing it was.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Patrick’s stamina is intense; he never seems to tire, even after the care and attention he puts into each and every round. You teasingly attribute this voraciousness to all his pent-up lust while in seminary. But when you’re exhausted, he completely respects this and would never push you beyond your physical limits.  

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No; why would he defile perfection by using anything other than his body?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This side of Patrick really comes out when he’s feeling frisky or playful. He relishes that he can turn you into a puddle of goo with just one look—your eyes glaze over, your breath hitches, and you suddenly have difficulty maintaining eye contact. He’ll then begin to touch and kiss you slowly, almost chastely, until you’re a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Volume-wise Patrick tends to be on the softer side, though he can surprise you. What he sometimes lacks in volume he makes up for in quality. Patrick makes the most delicious and sinful sounds you can imagine: gasps at your expert ministrations, moans when you kiss him deeply. Your personal favorite? The sound of him purring into your ear as he showers you with praise and words of affection.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The man’s scent alone makes you goddamn feral. It’s clean and masculine, with just a hint of spice. You love to bury your face in his neck and chest, inhaling him as you litter his skin with reminders of your devotion.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Patrick is incredibly well-endowed. In fact the first few times you were together, you were in slight pain (much to Patrick’s agony) and felt sore for days afterward. Oh but Patrick made it all better: drawing you warm baths, scooping you up, and tenderly massaging every inch of your body with his large hands. 😏

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

On the higher end, but it’s completely attached to you.  

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When you’re in each other’s arms, he feels completely relaxed and can usually fall asleep within a few minutes, but he likes to wait for you drift off to sleep and then silently watch you in your most peaceful state. Your breathing steadies, your brow relaxes, and your hair softly falls about your face, still glowing from physical exertion. As sleep begins to take hold of him, he whispers that you look just like an angel.

Taglist: @seraferna @lemairepstuff

[alfredosauce50]

whenever youre free, can you write yandere 2p china headcanons? im just thinking abt him 👉🏽👈🏽

Yandere 2p! China headcanons

Getting together with you was hard enough. But now that you’re his, he can’t go back to being a second choice he’s always been. He’s never letting you go.

Zao doesn’t have a single yandere characteristic by default, but when he does, ooh boy. It’ll take some time for him to deviate from his normal personality and mental stability, but given enough paranoia and infatuation, he will start losing his sanity, then, his ability to distinguish between right and wrong. And the terrifying thing is, he doesn’t even know it. By this logic, he is by far, the craziest yandere you’ll ever have the misfortune of encountering. 

(There isn’t a lot of fanart on 2p! China so have this fanart of Wei Wuxian for visual purposes)

Home life

He’s very into kissing, so much that he’ll sneak some in while doing the most mundane things. When he talks to you, he will hold your waist and fill the brief moments of silence with kisses. In his eyes, having his lips on yours while a conversation happens is being ‘productive’ as he makes the most out of being with you. Before anything escalates, which ends up happening more often than you’d prefer, you’ll pull away and clamp a hand over his mouth. He’ll lick your hand and laugh at your reaction. 

He bathes with you. He could’ve gone with the more economical option of showering, but he’s far from broke. And plus, he can do so much more while sitting down. You usually stay on the opposite end of the tub, but he’ll pull you onto his lap and whisper this in your ear, “Don’t be shy, kitten. This is your throne.” As you sink into his embrace, which ends up hotter than the water you’re submerged in, he will caress your back and make out with you. Once you’re pleading for air, he will pull away and trail a tongue up your neck instead. When you’re with him, he never actually lets you catch your breath, ever. 

Zao is very mindful of your comfort. Perhaps not when it comes to something sexual, per se, but he will always bring you a blanket if it gets a little chilly. If you forget to put socks on, he will put them on for you without asking. Whenever you go out, he will bring a bag with him and most of the things inside are either yours or for you. 

Spoiling you is a given. He can’t imagine a better way to put his hustle to good use--to give you things you want. Even if you don’t ask for anything, he never fails to get you something you end up loving. But there is one thing he won’t ever let you touch. Substances. Zao is so overprotective in all aspects of your life, he doesn’t even like you drinking. He’s a little more lenient on weed, and will let you have a few puffs of his joint. 

He always covers up at home, and will get a little flustered if you catch him indecent. Zao doesn’t wear a lot to bed, like tank tops and underwear, so he isn’t shirtless very often. The only time he doesn’t get embarrassed is when the mood is... You know. And he’s doing you-know-what with you. Otherwise, he will call you a pervert, but really, he’s teasing you more than expressing embarrassment. Because clearly, that’s rich coming from him.

Yeah. It’s not news how big of a pervert he is. Nor is he ashamed of it. Any dirty thought that crosses his mind, he will never fail to relay to you. It leaves you mortified when he tells you what he wants to do to you, in detail, especially when he isn’t being self-aware. Save that for when you get home, you idiot! But the private sphere only makes him even worse. 

He calms down at night, thankfully, and lays in bed with you on his chest. This is where his love language starts speaking to you. Connecting to you emotionally and mentally is how he shows he loves you. This takes place in long, deep, and random conversations, and if not, he will just captivate you in his dark eyes and stare at you endearingly. “What are you thinking about, kitten? I hope it’s something related to me~” Then, he’ll dig his hands through your hair and massage your head as he breathes you in until he gets intoxicated with you. 

When he gets jealous

He’s the type to get so jealous, it becomes suffocating for him--especially when he doesn’t outwardly show it. So whenever anyone remotely shows interest in you, he’ll keep his cool for the most part, but will get very irritable and clingy. It doesn’t matter how subtle they were, it could’ve been a single glance, even, but alarms will go off. He will pull you into a tight embrace and bury his face in your neck until they leave. You don’t really mind because he isn’t giving anybody trouble, but you do find it cute when he immediately returns to his soft side afterwards. 

Zao isn’t the biggest fan of conflict, even if he’s more than capable of it. Instead, he will gravitate towards his intelligence and cunning to outdo anybody he hates. Stalking is definitely on the table if he needs to get to know someone, then, when it comes down to it, sabotage. He will do anything to keep them busy so they wouldn’t have to see you. And he succeeds every time without you finding out.

Unlike most SO’s, it’s easier for him to get jealous over friends than love interests. He values the emotional aspect of your relationship with him the most, and gets very upset if you bond with people other than him, platonically or not. To make up for it, he demands your attention and ensures the time you spend with him is two times more fulfilling than whoever it was you were with. This is the fundamental reason why he’s more susceptible to getting jealous--literally anybody is a rival in his eyes. 

This is all the more reason to be so much more paranoid and restless than other typical yanderes. 

When you argue

He doesn’t agree with you on a lot of things, so it’s like talking to a brick wall. Objective subjects are easy to get through when it’s straight up facts, but if the topic is about what he can or cannot do in the relationship, save your breath. You will never get through to him. When he feels entitled to something, he takes his own side, regardless of what you feel about it.

Nevertheless, he will do the bare-minimum of leaving you alone in the meantime when you’re upset. That’s how he somehow respects this boundary he just crossed. But a few hours later, he will go back to normal, which means he will be affectionate even when you’re not in the mood. This cues the second phase of the fight. While you’re trying your damndest to push him away, he will corner you, physically and mentally. 

While he hugs you tight, he will force you to look at him while you cry. It’s invasive and suffocating, but the night always ends with you making up with him. Be it kissing or other means. It’s unfair, but no matter what he does, you can’t help giving in to him. And he knows this very well. That’s why he keeps doing it.  

Psychology + When he snaps

He is much more intelligent than he lets on. Even though he already knows you like the back of his hand, he studies you every day. If you asked him what you were thinking about, he could probably guess it. That’s what makes him such an intense lover. You can’t hide anything from him if you tried. Hence, he has a terrifying amount of control in the relationship, and he will use it to his advantage.

Zao is a good multitasker. He can juggle his ‘job’ and hobbies while keeping you in the palm of his hand. There is absolutely nothing you can do without him finding out, and this is precisely how he keeps himself miles ahead of you. 

As everything progresses, he will tolerate less and less. His love language is how much quality time he gets with you, along with emotional connection. Eventually, he will start ruling out the prospect of you having any of these things with anyone besides him. That includes friends, so he will start isolating you from them, all until the only soul you are truly close to is him. Soon, you will have to rely on him for everything, which he absolutely loves. He will make himself the only person in your life. 

As this continues, he will become obsessed with the idea of your co-dependency on him. Zao always loved looking after you, but he isn’t satisfied with that anymore. Being your own person? Hell no. Every single thing you do, he will be in the backdrop. If not, he will be next to you, and start influencing your own thoughts until you can’t even trust yourself. 

At this point, he is manipulating you to accept everything he does. And he succeeds a lot of the time, especially when he’s so unfazed. You start wondering if you should be this unfazed, even when what he’s doing is wrong. 

If one of your friends tries to intervene, he will make sure they won’t see the light of day ever again. He has a lot of connections, and combined with how cunning he is, he can get them to disappear with the snap of his fingers. He will keep doing this until every single person in your life is gone if he has to. 

Zao acts purely on his own desires. It’s his moral compass. Right and wrong will blur together so long as it’s for you, and there’s nothing he won’t do. Murder is as casual of a topic to discuss and do as having breakfast. 

A lot of psychopaths would at least get the thrill of doing something so heinous, but he won’t give a shit. He won’t bat an eye. He won’t feel the smallest shred of remorse and carry on like nothing happened. But what he will feel is satisfaction. 

If you find out what he did

You can cry all you like. He’ll only feel remotely guilty because you’re heartbroken, but it passes pretty quickly when he’s happy with what he’s done. You could try running away too. Try. But he always finds you. It doesn’t matter if you leave the country and go into hiding. He will follow you to the ends of Earth for the rest of his life. What can he say? He loves a good chase. It’s a fun game of cat and mouse he knows he’ll win. 

Every time he finds you, he’ll sneak up to you from behind and whisper, “Are you done, now? Let’s go home already.” If you try to run away again, he’ll just catch you and hold you tight, even while you’re thrashing in his arms. “I can do this forever, kitten. You have nobody else to go to, and nowhere else to be. So don’t waste your energy and come back with me.”

Response to ask: 

Of course :) I’m honored you submitted an ask to me after thinking about him 🤗 He’s definitely one of my favorites! Zao’s gotta be the most fleshed out 2p next to Allen. Since 2p’s aren’t canon, they rely solely on the fandom’s interpretation and ability to dish out content on them. I haven’t seen any proper yandere stuff on Zao, so I think this is a first. And boy, he’s a terrifying one for sure. I feel like he embodies the worst of the yandere trope because he’s into psychological manipulation. Worst isn’t the right word, actually. I believe ‘accurate’ is a better way of describing it. This is what a real yandere looks like. 

[digital-corruption]

Just a bit of fun before it gets too heavy. :)

Haunted by the Past Part 24

Sleep was impossible after a night like that. I tried and failed many times. It was one of the only days I had wished I had more stories to write so I didn’t have to think about what was coming. However, I only had two left, which I finished before lunch.

Jake was incredibly stressed the whole day, barely saying a word to me. I think he still felt guilty for last night. It made for an uncomfortable day inside while it lightly rained out. I found myself doing banal chores, like washing all of the dirty clothes and tidying things up. I avoided looking at the guns still sitting on the table. When I ran out of things to keep occupied, I sat by the big windows and read a novel on my tablet that I had been putting off reading. Though I had to reread paragraphs multiple times whenever my mind started to wander.

Dinner was quiet. I tried to make small talk, but I could barely get anything out of Jake. As soon as he finished, he went back to his computer. I cleared away the plates and gave them a quick clean before sitting on the couch with my phone. I went to check messages when suddenly I got a message from someone unexpected.

Jake: Hi. :)

MC: Hello, long time no talk.

Jake: I know, I’m sorry.

MC: I’m right here. Remember, we had dinner together like 10 minutes ago?

Jake: I have a lot of tasks to accomplish, it’s easier to type while I work. Talking is too distracting.

MC: What did you want to talk about? Er, type about?

Jake: Well, nothing much. I miss you though. So...

Jake: Want to cyber? ;)

MC: lol We’re not a pair of horny, sex-deprived teenagers. If you need a stress release, we could just go upstairs.

Jake: Mmm, that’s a two-hour distraction at minimum.

MC: Two hours??

Jake: Yes, but I can multi-task if we cyber. ;)

MC: Nuh-uh, I want your full attention.

Jake: Mmm, you could come sit on my lap while I work. :)

MC: Why don’t you take a break?

Jake: I just had a break. You spent the entire time teasing me.

MC: We ate dinner.

Jake: You know what you did. :(

MC: I really don’t.

Jake: Those things you did with your fork.

MC: You mean how I put it in my mouth and pulled the food off of it.

Jake: Exactly. It went into your mouth.

MC: This bothered you?

Jake: I want to be in your mouth. ;)

MC: Are you going through withdrawal?

Jake: For several days now. :( I didn’t want to pressure you.

MC: Just come over here and keep me company on the couch already.

Jake: But I need to work.

MC: Why is it so time crucial now?

Jake: We launch in the morning. I need to finish debugging this code.

Jake: Why don't you want to cyber with me? :(

MC: How about we give you incentive to finish faster instead?

Jake: No, please do not rush me. I cannot afford any mistakes.

MC: How is distracting you any better?

Jake: I told you, I can multi-task. ;)

Jake: If you are not going to cyber with me, at least come over here and sit with me.

MC: How about you use your voice like a big boy?

Jake: That is it, I am done asking nicely.

Jake suddenly stood up from his desk and came over to the couch.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I looked at him wide-eyed. Jake pulled me up to my feet, then lifted me up by my hips to put me over his shoulder. “Gah! Jake!” I laughed.

Jake carried me over to his desk and lowered himself back down into his seat with me sitting across his lap. “Better,” he mumbled.

I snuggled against Jake, leaning my head against his. He looked over error reports while I browsed on my phone.

Jake: We can still cyber you know. ;)

Even though Jake’s full attention was on his monitor, he was smiling. I rolled my eyes.

MC: Get back to work!

We spent several hours sitting like that, not that I minded. Eventually I had drifted off in his lap. I do recall Jake helping me upstairs to the bed and kissing my head as he pulled the blankets over me.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Carry Me Home

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: John, Scott, Virgil

Back to back rescues is a recipe for exhaustion.  Luckily, Scott’s got an eye in the sky looking out for him.

A random discussion with @janetm74 about how much we love sleepy Scott fics somehow turned into this...  Well, it feels like it’s been a while since I posted any fluff, so here you go.

John didn’t have alarms rigged to alert him just before his eldest brother crashed out, although at times that certainly sounded like an appealing prospect.  Maybe one day he’d implement it, considering Scott’s penchant for working until he dropped – literally – but for now it remained a vague concept in the back of his mind.

Today was one day where it might be useful.  It was, he supposed, fortunate that the rest of his brothers had just returned from their respective rescues, leaving him with only Scott to monitor as his big brother packed up after his own rescue.  If he’d been distracted by another brother, or some new stream of important data that needed instant attention, he wouldn’t have caught the signs in time.  As it was, the only thing on his conscious radar at that moment was Scott, and John saw the moment his older brother’s vitals plummeted.

His immediate reaction was panic, his heart jumping up to land in his throat as Scott’s blood pressure and heart rate dropped from its high, adrenaline-fuelled state.  But Scott didn’t keel over, or faint, or outwardly show any reaction at all, and logic sidled its way in before John did something unadvisable.

This was Scott’s third rescue in the past twenty-four hours.  None of them had been easy, but this final one had been particularly physically demanding, with his brother clambering in and around a large and challenging area of craggy rocks - in a couple of cases having to carry a rescuee while doing so.  John was also aware that Scott hadn’t had much by way of sleep, and while he hadn’t been tracking his brother’s every move, he suspected food probably hadn’t featured as much as it should have done, either.

It was the perfect storm.

He watched the camera feed closely as Scott packed away the last of his harness equipment before sitting down heavily in his pilot seat.  A dirty, tired hand rubbed at his face, leaving streaks on the skin in an admittance John knew Scott wouldn’t have made if he’d realised he was being watched.  The yawn, splitting his brother’s face in two and beading moisture in the corner of his scrunched closed eyes, was the last straw.

Scott was not piloting anywhere like that.

Pulling up Thunderbird One’s controls took barely a thought.  By the time Scott’s weary hands rested on the levers, ready to guide his ‘bird into the air, John had locked him out and activated her remote pilot.

It only took a second for Scott to realise that Thunderbird One’s controls weren’t responding to him, but a second was far too long for a man who lived and breathed flight.  John let his hologram flicker into view as Scott grumbled and poked at the controls again, clearly not yet realising that the reason they weren’t working was because John had decreed it.

His brother jumped when he noticed him.

“Everything’s fine, John,” he said, although he was still scowling at his ‘bird’s controls as if he thought there was something wrong.  “I’ll be in the air in a minute.”

“I know,” John agreed pleasantly, and was relieved to see the scowling blue eyes turn suspiciously towards him.  Scott was exhausted, but could at least still do the bare minimum of realise when a brother was up to something.  “Strap yourself in.”  Scott gestured at his shoulder harness, and John barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “The turbulence straps,” he clarified. While the shoulder harnesses did their job in most conditions, Thunderbird One’s pilot seat also came with additional security in the case of heavy turbulence – or, in a worst-case scenario, a crash landing.  Considering Scott was undeniably more creeping further towards sleep every moment – proven by another yawn which he couldn’t stifle – John wanted him fully strapped in.

“Don’t need ‘em,” Scott grumbled.  “Conditions are clear.”

“Scott.”  John had mastered the disappointed parent voice years ago out of necessity, and sometimes even Scott reacted to it. Today, with the older man more asleep than awake, the stars aligned in John’s favour, and the turbulence straps were fastened.  Scott still grumbled, but John didn’t care as long as he was secure.

“What is the point of this?” his brother demanded, failing to hide yet another yawn.  His eyes were half-lidded at best, and another glance at his vitals showed that it was only Scott’s stubbornness that was keeping him awake.  There was absolutely no way he was fit to fly, and John was going to enforce that.

“Relax,” he said, keeping his voice level and low.  “I’ll get you home, big brother.”

“Wha-?”  Blue eyes shot open.  “John, what are-”

John didn’t let him finish his sentence before powering up Thunderbird One’s VTOL and lifting his brother’s ‘bird – complete with said brother safely ensconced within – into the sky.

“You’re dead on your feet, Scott,” he pointed out calmly.  “Get some rest.  You’re in no state to pilot.”

“I’m fine,” Scott tried to protest, but yet another yawn interrupted him and he involuntarily slumped back in the seat.  John took the opportunity to ignite Thunderbird One’s rear boosters and accelerate her up through the sound barrier.

“Scott.”  This time it wasn’t the disappointed parent, but rather the wheedling little brother.  Scott was always weak to wheedling little brothers, and this was no exception.  He slumped back further in the chair, head resting back against the headrest.

“Fine,” he huffed, finally accepting that this was a debate he was never going to win.  Another yawn crossed his face and his eyelids fluttered closed for several moments before they were wrenched open again.  “Just for now.”

The fact that he had caved at all proved how unfit to fly he was.

Blue eyes fluttered closed again, but this time they didn’t re-open.  Scott’s vitals stabilised themselves, far too low for consciousness to be on the cards at all, and John kept an eye on the camera feed as Scott’s chest rose and fell in slow and even breaths.  His brother badly needed the sleep.

After a moment, during which he brought Thunderbird One to a safe, comfortable cruising speed of Mach seven and confirmed nothing was in her flight path, he opened a line to Tracy Island, and his immediate younger brother.

Virgil wasn’t long back from a rescue himself, and still had a smudge of grime on his nose that no-one had pointed out to him yet.

“Another rescue?” he asked. He looked somewhat weary himself, although far from Scott’s own level of exhaustion.  John shook his head.

“No,” he promised.  “Scott’s fallen asleep.”

That perked Virgil up straight away.  “In Thunderbird One?” he demanded, incredulously.  John gave a wry smile in response.

“I’m in control,” he assured him.  “Scott’s exhausted, but safe.”  To prove it, he sent along a copy of Scott’s suit telemetry, which was currently reading vitals consistent with a deep sleep.  Virgil scrutinised them closely for several moments before sighing.

“He needs to stop pushing himself so hard,” he despaired quietly, before collecting himself.  “What’s Thunderbird One’s ETA?”

John glanced across at the figures.  “Half an hour,” he said.  “Scott’s probably not going to wake up before she lands.”  He hoped he didn’t.  Scott needed actual sleep, not a half hour nap in his Thunderbird.  “Judging by his vitals, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sleeps right through.”

Virgil’s eyes glanced over the data again, and his lips thinned in agreement.

“Get him home, John,” he said.  “I’ll take it from there.”

“F.A.B,” John agreed. He didn’t close the line with Virgil, but he did turn away from his younger brother to instead watch his older brother as he continued to guide Thunderbird One home.

As predicted, Scott slept right through the landing half an hour later.  There was a slight stir as she decelerated and rotated, but his eyes stayed closed and he remained slumped bonelessly in his seat as John settled the Thunderbird on her castors and allowed her to roll back to the hangar.

Virgil was ready and waiting on the gantry when John let his hologram flicker back into view.

“Still asleep?” the middle Tracy asked as the Thunderbird came to a stop.  John nodded.  “Okay, I’ve got this.”  Virgil stepped forwards onto the extending loading ramp, and as he neared the cockpit, John disengaged the pilot seat so that it swung out to meet him.  His younger brother didn’t hesitate, reaching out and releasing all the straps and harnesses holding Scott in place before scooping the still-sleeping man up into his arms.

That was, in theory, the end of John’s domain.  With Scott safe and still slumbering away in Virgil’s arms, he was the dark-haired Tracy’s responsibility now, and his hologram stopped projecting so as not to distract Virgil.

Still, John watched as the platform retracted, bringing his brothers back to the gantry, and Virgil walked across the metal towards the elevator.  In his arms, Scott shifted, a sleepy murmur indicating that his sleep wasn’t quite so deep any more.  Virgil was no stranger to handling him, however, and a small, fond, smile crept onto John’s face as his younger brother murmured something quiet and melodic.

The microphones couldn’t pick up exactly what it was Virgil was saying – or, John suspected, humming – but whatever it was seemed to do the trick as Scott settled back down.

There were no blind spots in Thunderbird Five’s coverage of the villa.  John didn’t normally pay close attention to areas outside of the den, kitchen and hangars, largely content to let his family get on with their personal lives without him spying on them, but today he tracked Virgil the entire way from the hangars to Scott’s bedroom.  Virgil was frowning a little by the time he got there, clearly a little suspicious at how little effort it had taken to keep their big brother asleep, and the same unease filtered through John’s mind.

Was Scott really just that exhausted, or had they missed something?

John watched the feed like a hawk as Virgil gently stripped off Scott’s uniform, revealing the plain undershirt and shorts, and his telemetry data disappeared.  Nothing new flagged up as a point of concern, except for the ongoing fact that Scott barely stirred.  Virgil rested a hand on their brother’s chest, and instantly made a face.

The next moment, Scott’s underclothes were also being stripped away, leaving him in just his underwear, and Virgil was dropping them on the floor by the uniform judgementally. Despite the underlying concern, John smirked a little.  Scott had done a lot of physical work on the last mission; it made sense for his clothes to have absorbed the sweat that came with that and he didn’t envy Virgil for dealing with that at all.

Pyjamas were retrieved, but before Virgil began the unenviable task of trying to dress their sleeping brother without waking him, a familiar yellow light skipped over Scott’s body.  John immediately tapped in to the medscanner as Virgil scrutinised the results; just like the suit telemetry, it simply flagged up sheer exhaustion, but with a small caution for dehydration added in as well.

Shoulders slumping in what John assumed was relief, Virgil eased the still-sleeping figure of their brother into loose pyjamas and tugged at the comforter until Scott was nestled snugly in bed.  Just before he pulled it all the way up to Scott’s chin Virgil hesitated for a brief moment, and then a monitor was being carefully attached to Scott’s pyjama top.

John tapped into that as well, relieved that Virgil had thought to attach one, and immediately got the data streaming straight into Thunderbird Five for him to check periodically. Just like the scan, it currently declared no causes for concern, barring an advisory for mild dehydration, and a little bit of tension bled from John’s shoulders.

Seemingly satisfied, Virgil then pulled the comforter the rest of the way, tucking Scott in firmly, only for their brother to stir again.  The pianist’s hand immediately threaded into brown locks, and John watched fondly as Virgil ran his fingers gently through Scott’s hair soothingly.  The microphones in Scott’s room were more sensitive, adjusted for quiet night time conversations, and while earlier John hadn’t been able to hear how Virgil settled their brother, now his voice resonated through Thunderbird Five.

John recognised it instantly.  How could he not, when he’d heard it so many times as a child, first from Mom, and then overheard as Scott did his best to fill in the gaps after the avalanche?  A quiet and gentle lullaby from years long gone by did the trick to settle Scott again, but Virgil didn’t stop singing even after Scott stopped stirring.

That, John decided, was his cue to leave.  Scott was home safe and in good hands – and he had the readings from the monitor to keep an eye on if he wanted to check up on him.  There was no point lurking around and listening to a brother who may or may not realise he was still watching.

He dismissed the feed just as Virgil finished a verse, suddenly plunging Thunderbird Five into silence before the quiet background hum of his ‘bird’s ever-running machinery registered again.  A glance at the monitor readings brought his attention back to the dehydration caution, and John checked to see who was near the kitchen.  Virgil, no doubt, would be staying with Scott for a little while yet, but there was no harm in sending someone else up with some electrolyte drinks for when Scott finally woke.

Well, no harm as long as he made it perfectly clear to the rest of the family that Scott was getting some long overdue and well-deserved rest, and anyone who disturbed him would find out exactly how creative John could get with technology.