#please add a bat race

[vivlily]

Operator Cacophony

Arts Defender

Due to sensitivity to certain lights, common among Vesperti, she uses various Aegir chimes and bells, in conjunction with her astounding hearing to determine her surroundings.

Her dress was also created by an Aegir admirer of the arts and a fashion designer aboard Rhodes Island. Within this dress is where most of her chimes and bells are stored.

She is confirmed infected, with her arts taking the form of a sort of audio amplification, able to turn the slashing sound of her wings into a sharp bladed projectile, or turn the sound of her bells and chimes into a concussive force.

Her lack of stealth works to her benefit, since as with most Vesperti she is able to grow a winglike appendage from her arms, and through the combination of her auditory amplification she is able to create a defensive sound barrier due to the make up of her wings.

She is often found playing with many of the younger infected onboard Rhodes Island, acting as a sort of elder sibling. However often times among some of the more scientific inclined operators she seems to exhibit some amount of trepidation. This does not stop her from trying to befriend these operators.

Whether we find out what might be the source of those feelings or not will be up to time to tell.

For the time being though, if you ever see Cacophony a little turned around on the landship, be sure to point her in the right direction, these halls tend to be a tad bit too similar in structure.

This was day 15 bat and I'm using this spooktober list created by revilonilmah

also heres without any fancy things

[tonycries]

Men In Uniform F*ck Better!

Synopsis. You want him and you want him now. It doesn’t matter if you have to fúck him in his uniform - in fact, it just might make it better.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] professor! Gojo x Reader, yakuza boss! Sukuna x Reader, calligrapher! Geto x Reader, baker! Nanami x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, oral (male + female receiving), men at work, manhandling, marking, slight gúnplay, degradation, smacking, choking, Sukuna is mean but he’s a yakuza boss so, spitting, semi-public, brat-taming, bunch of heinous stuff idek, cúmplay, slight foodplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k

A/N. Was gonna add Choso and Toji but this got too long, dw I’ll make separate ones about them later <3 

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The baker

Watching Nanami Kento at work could make even the most ardent non-believers worship God. 

Kneading. Spreading. Every motion of his strong hands deliberate and purposeful. Muscles rippling in his forearms with each movement. 

You watch - almost hypnotized - as the devilishly handsome baker at your favorite bakery prepares his dough for tomorrow. By God were you glad you managed to bat your lashes just enough to convince him to let you stay after closing - for educational purposes, of course. 

Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily as long fingers sink deep into the dough, squeezing. Pulling. Teasing. A delicate bead of sweat trickling down between his furrowed brows and disappearing enticingly between those chiseled collarbones. Oh, how you wished it was you under his hands instead.

“How long’s it gonna take? I see the way you’re watching me, y’know.” 

A low rumble breaks the silence, sending tremors down your spine - all the way to your already-heated cunt. Eyes snapping up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones, your face burns at being caught red-handed. Stammering out excuses, “W-wha- I didn’t-”

Soft dough now forgotten, he steps closer, presence overwhelming, dominating the space around you. “Always do. Watching me with such slutty eyes.” Low words that make your pussy throb. You’re dumbfounded by his eyes, intense and stripping - making you feel so exposed and vulnerable before him. 

In the dimly lit kitchen, the tension is palpable. You can’t help but lean into his presence, standing toe-to-toe with his muscled front. 

With a slight smirk curling his lips, Nanami leans in, his breath warm against your ear and making you shudder in anticipation. “But don’t worry, darling. I like it.” 

They’re the last words said before he pulls you into a searing kiss, a hand tight around your neck, neat fingernails digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him as his tongue demands entry, intertwining with yours. It’s possessive, it’s feral - and tastes oh so very sweet - just like his delicate pastries. 

Nanami breathes you in like a man starved. A desperation that carries into your frantic fingers untying that godforsaken apron. 

And in his steady hands as they lift you up as if you weigh nothing, fingers groping and kneading your ass as he seats you on the kitchen counter. The surface cold under where your skirt was messily bunched up. “Mm- hngh- please, Nanami.”

Pulling away with a final bite to your lower lip, he leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down your body that send chills racing through you, and have your thighs rubbing together for an ounce of friction. 

“Tch” Of course, he wasn’t a fan. Grip bruising, manhandling your legs open so shamefully, he splays you out deliciously for him. Nanami’s greedy gaze devours the sinful way your dripping cunt leaks through your thin panties - ones you wore especially for him.

Seems he knew too, pushing his glasses up contemplatively before dropping onto his knees with a fucked out oh. “Always knew you were naughty, darling, but to be such a slut? Driving me crazy, hm?” his voice thick with desire and whispered mere millimeters away from your swollen folds.

Moaning softly, you arch your back into the warm breath hitting your quivering cunt, whining out an embarrassed “Noo- only for you, Nanami.”

“Oh yeah?” Huffing out a dark chuckle, he all but rips off your soaked panties. The tattered fabric stark against the sterile floor. You gasp at the cold air that hits your heated cunt - but not for long, because Nanami’s hot mouth is on it like a man dying of thirst. 

Nose-deep in your pussy, the cold metal of his glasses makes you flinch in sensitivity. His hands spread your cunt bruisingly, letting his tongue bully it’s way past your folds, urgently lapping at your juices as if you were the sweetest damn thing he’s ever tasted. 

Chin hitting your cunt, nose rubbing against your pulsing clit, he makes out with your sloppy pussy in methodical, merciless movements of his tongue that have you keening and bucking your hips for more more more. 

Looking up at you over his glasses, his hungry gaze devours your half-lidded eyes, the grip searing on his hair, and the whimpers of his name leaving your swollen lips just as greedily as the mouth on your slutty cunt.

“Wanted this right, darling?” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Vibrations making slick bead out of your cunt and pool onto his waiting lips. “Wanted to break under my hands?”

“Yes. Yes, yes yes, s’all I’ve wanted.” teary whimpers leave your bruised lips, you craved the sting of his hands, the burn of his fingers. Your hips buck uncontrollably, grinding yourself against his mouth as he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

Hands now groping every inch of skin he could find, leaving pretty purple marks that remind you of his mouth-watering pies.

Exploring every curve and valley, bending you to his will, languid where his tongue was merciless. Savoring you. Groping your breasts, squeezing your ass, as if he wanted everything all at once.

Your entire body was sore now. Cunt throbbing in sympathy with the tender flesh. Marks littering your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves. Ah, all these weeks you’d been right - heaven really was in Nanami Kento’s hands. And right now you were putty in them. 

He grasped your thighs, squeezing them roughly and lifting them higher, opening you wider for his unforgiving pace. Clearly enjoying the way your face contorted in pain and pleasure, Kento slipped a finger inside you. One. Then two. Stretching you to your limits. Spreading open your already-stretched entrance further. 

His fingers frantic now, fucked-out, jerky movements. Wilder. Animalistic. Driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Open your mouth.” 

You listen - drunk on his tongue as yours lolls out so lewdly. The taste hits you before the realization - sweet sugar and the taste of you on your tongue as two thick fingers are shoved into your mouth. They reach the back of your throat, pressing hard onto your tongue. You force yourself to fight off the gagging as some animalistic part of you sucks desperately on them for the sweet, sweet taste. 

“Almost as sweet as you.” Nanami groans, words muffled into your cunt and sending white-hot pleasure racing up your spine. Words hanging in the air, he speeds up the movements of his mouth, frantic movements matching your need for more. 

Your climax hits you with a jolt, cumming till you see stars behind your eyes. Maybe it was his words, maybe it was the way his tongue quirked just right on your throbbing clit to make you throw your head back as you fell apart underneath him. 

“Hngh- Oh fuck, Nanami. M’cum- cumming!” you whine, grinding your cunt down impossibly harder on his pretty face. Fingers tangled in his silky blond locks as you force him deeper, riding out your high greedily.

You’re still dazed - vision blurry as Nanami pulls away from your cunt with a lewd squelch! getting up from his position kneeling on the floor. “So delicious on m’tongue, darling.”

Devastatingly handsome face flushed, breaths ragged, muscled front now pressing against your sinfully spread legs. And in your orgasm-hazed mind you still manage to hear the arousing clink of a belt unbuckling, and the metallic screech against marble of the nearby bowl of your favorite frosting being pulled closer. White - to match the precum dribbling down his leaking cock.

The distinct feeling of something wet and achingly hard against your needy cunt.

Oh. Ah, it really was a sweet, sweet life.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The calligrapher

You didn’t exactly think the live calligraphy show your friend dragged you to was about to have you on the edge of your seat.

But here you were. 

Eyes locked on the way the tall figure onstage, clad in a dark yukata - sinfully slipping off to reveal a milky, toned shoulder. Geto Suguru exudes an air of raw sexuality that the entire audience was aware of, eyes not being able to decide between the masterpiece on the canvas or the masterpiece of a man on stage.

His fingers, long and agile, effortlessly over the bamboo pen. Each stroke a sensual caress, dark eyes pools of desire that match his long, flowing locks, and the inky characters on the page. 

Chest heaving with passion, with a final, dramatic sweep of his arm, Geto completes the last stroke. And as the audience erupts into applause, you merely stay rooted to your seat, thighs pressing together and breath caught in your throat - only one thought ringing in your mind.

You just had to have him.

Which is why you found yourself following your friend to the chaotic atmosphere backstage. But despite the buzz of activity, you could still hear Geto’s deep, velvety voice carrying through the crowd.

Pushing through the sea of people, “Ah! Long time no see, Geto-san. This is my friend, she really enjoyed your performance tonight,” your friend introduced, gesturing towards you.

Eyes gleaming he turns to you, “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it very much.” you grin, batting your lashes. Relishing in the way Geto’s dark eyes appraise you from head to toe. Taking in every inch of you - and you do the same.

Geto’s eyes harden, as if deciding on something. “I’m flattered. Why don’t you two lovely ladies join me for some drinks with the crew?”

Yeah, you had to have him - you just didn’t think that would be so easy. 

Walls lined with paintings, the scent of ink and sin hung heavy in the air, as you two snuck away from the animated group downing celebratory shots. Geto’s hand hot in yours as he leads you down a dimly-lit corridor to “his favorite lil’ spot”, as he’d whispered to you. 

You could tell you were getting closer - because Geto promptly pulls you closer, hands grasping your waist possessively. 

“No turning back now, pretty girl.” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. 

“S’all I want, Suguru.” you mutter, desire coursing through you like a wildfire, pooling into something sticky and hot at your cunt. 

Perhaps seeing the pure, feral need in your eyes, Suguru murmurs, leaving no room for disagreement now, “Follow me.”

The room he led you to was heady with seductive candles, beautiful artwork lining the walls. His own - you assume, as Suguru leads you to a low wooden table in the center of the room. On it is a bottle of sake and two cups.

Movements fluid and precise, Suguru pours the sake, filling it to the brim. He hands it to you, eyes never leaving your face. “Drink up, pretty girl.” he hums, low and seductive. And honestly fuck stranger danger, how could you not when he looks at you like that?

So you drink, sake burning its way down your throat. Predatory eyes locked on you as you set down the cup, Suguru’s mouth quirks up into a sly grin around his as he asks, “Liked it?”

You’ve barely gotten out the nod - not trusting yourself to speak - before Suguru downs his shot abruptly, slamming down the cup with a thunk! 

Lips parting slightly, slender fingers squish your cheeks together into an almost-embarrasing pout. Forcing you to look up at him with an almost predatory grace as he looms closer. You don’t know if you should’ve expected the steady, warm stream of sake and saliva that hits your tongue. Sliding so obscenely down your throat. 

Guess Suguru Geto was filthy in bed where he was the embodiment of grace in public. 

It’s sweet on your tongue - both the sake and Suguru.

Eyes glassy, a mixture of sake and drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth - Suguru really can’t help the lips that come crashing down on yours, tongue plunging deep into your mouth. His tongue was relentless, keeping yours intertwined in a heady kiss. 

Arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to his heated body. Hands tugging on your hair, mapping your curves. All the way up to cup your breasts, thumbs running tight, little circles around your perked nipples.

You moan into the heated kiss as something rock-hard pokes your thigh. Hand greedily grabbing at his yukata with the need for more. 

Breaking the kiss, Suguru’s breaths come in ragged gasps. “On your knees, pretty girl.” 

And what Geto Suguru wants, Geto Suguru gets. 

Which is why you were sat, eyes hungry and greedily watching the way Suguru slowly, and deliberately peels open the front of his yukata, exposing his toned torso. A sly grin curling his lips at you gape at his leaking cock, standing proud and achingly hard. Thick and unforgiving. 

Fuck, could you really take him in your mouth? He was at least twice as big as anyone else you’ve been with before…

“Open.” he orders, voice low and commanding and making your cunt clench so deliciously in anticipation. Suguru’s flushed tip pokes your lips - glossy with sake and saliva - precum salty on your tongue. God, he was huge. Parting your mouth wider, lips stretching around his length you desperately try to fuck him into your mouth - eager to please.

But it just wasn’t enough.

Because Suguru has a searing grip on your hair, holding your head steady as he pushed his cock all the way down your throat. Delicate veins throbbing against the roof of your mouth as he starts up a steady, merciless pace fucking your mouth as if you were nothing but a fucktoy. 

“C’mon now, you said s’all you want. Better act like it, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, pushing you impossibly further down so that your nose presses into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. Like delicate strokes of a fine art. Breathing in the heady, masculine scent so sinfully.

This man is a masterpiece, you think deliriously - completely cock-drunk as you gag around his length, eyes burning at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. Over and over. A ceaseless cadence you were losing your mind to. 

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, jus’ like that.” he hisses, as you tongue at his slit. Fingers deftly pressing around your neck to feel his dick ramming down your throat. 

The once-serene room rings with your pathetic, wet gurgles around Suguru’s cock and the smacking of skin on skin as his heavy balls hit your chin. “Take it, take it all.”

You moan, body arching as you claw at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Nails digging neat lines down his milky skin. Balls tightening, he thrusts animalistically into your mouth, each one deeper and harder than the last, cock sliding in and out of you brutally. 

Messy.

Saliva and precum drip down his length, dirtying his yukata. Tears streak down your cheeks onto Suguru’s wrist, fingers tightening ferally around your throat. Blood roaring in your ears, choking at both the throbbing cock and the hand blocking your airway.

 It was so fucking messy.

So it only made sense that Suguru’s orgasm was the same. 

With a guttural cry of your name, Suguru came in hot spurts of cum, shooting rope after rope down your ready throat as his cock pulsed and stuttered in your mouth. You felt so dirty, his seed pooling on your tongue. 

But he wasn’t done - no, far from it - pulling out from your abused mouth with a lewd pop! Twitching cock heavy on your face as he paints your face white. Hips bucking deliriously, a smug smirk playing on his lips at his masterpiece.

Face and mouth covered in his cum, fucked out enough that you basically had heart eyes looking at Suguru, you ready yourself to swallow it all. Needing to taste Suguru immediately.

Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.

Because Suguru drops to his knees, hand still tight around your throat as he captures your lips with his. Teeth clashing, lips bruising, forcing his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself. Tasting you. It was absolutely animalistic. 

A barely-lucid, disappointed whine leaves your swollen lips as he pulls away. Only to spit once. Twice. Three times on your face.

You flinch as wads of saliva and his cum hit your face, warm and dripping down your cheeks. Staining the pristine tatami mats below as they fall with a resounding tap! tap! tap!

And you gladly offer yourself up for the abuse. A fucked out smile spreading across your face as you take in the feeling of being so debauched by Suguru. Somewhat-delirious, you barely register the dark mutter against your ear, “Hope you’re not tapping out yet, pretty girl. I haven’t even gotten out my paintbrushes yet.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The yakuza boss

“Strip.”

Standing in the dimly lit room, red-hot irritation flashes behind your eyes as you bristle at the words falling out of his mouth - devastatingly handsome had it not been for that smug, leering smirk. 

Eyes half-lidded, long legs spread on that gaudy armchair, smoke falling from Sukuna’s lips as he stares at you intently. Eyes piercing through yours over his cigar. Demanding compliance. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you rip your gaze from his, flitting panickedly between the imposing yakuza boss in front of you - all alluring tattoos, and heavy, gold rings - and the glinting pistol that lay silently on one, muscular thigh.

You can feel the heat of his gaze burning into your skin as your hands tremble, fumbling with those tedious buttons. Breathing heavy, nipples hardening - your top hits the floor. God, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into. 

Cursing your father’s debt, you move on to your pants. Desperately trying to avoid catching a glimpse of those blown-out pupils, something prickly and hot pooling in your stomach. Shit. You won’t start liking this - you refuse to start liking this. 

One by one, it falls away. Leaving you bare and completely exposed under Sukuna’s intense scrutiny. A low growl escapes his lips at the way your thighs clench together so sinfully, the sound sending shivers down your spine. 

“Come here, doll.” Low, raspy words that go straight to your cunt. But you steel yourself, heels clacking against the polished floor as you step closer. And closer. Watching the way he drinks in your naked form. 

But apparently too slow.

Before you can even react, a muscled arm reaches out, pulling you to fall into his waiting lap, straddling those toned hips. A jolt of electricity going through your body as you register the cold metal of the gun digging into your leg. 

Sukuna leans forward, the scent of tobacco and sin overwhelming your senses. “Dance f’me.”

Shit. How dare he talk to you this way - and how dare you let your pussy clench in anticipation at his demeaning tone.

Biting back a groan at the way your hardened nipples brush against his button-up, you tentatively roll your hips forward. A thrill going straight to your pussy as something long and thick presses against you. Involuntarily, you press closer, grinding against him. Hard.

Large, calloused hands find your ass. Squeezing roughly to pull you closer, rocking your hips back and forth on his throbbing erection. Back and forth back and forth back and-

Cool metal pressed against your skin - the barrel of his glinting gun pressed lightly against your forehead. Goosebumps erupt down your spine, painfully prickling at your skin as you realize just what the fuck he was doing. “As much as I love you humping me like a bitch in heat, doll. I asked you to dance f’me.” he murmurs, tone was positively dripping with something dark and dangerous.

Well, you think, gritting your teeth in determination. Might as well give the bastard what he asks for. 

Staring defiantly right into those darkened, intense eyes, you begin moving your body agonizingly slow. Hands tantalizingly tracing the outline of your body. Teasingly caressing the skin, sliding your fingers along your collarbone, down your rib cage, grazing your navel before slithering lower. Lower. 

Your soaked cunt forming a wet patch right on his straining erection. 

Sukuna’s eyes follow your every move - every circle of your hips down on his throbbing bulge. The corner of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he takes in the sight of you so sinful and shamefully exposed for him. 

The desire simmering beneath his composed exterior is basically palpable. 

And then, it snaps.

Suddenly, his arm snaps up, grabbing bruisingly at your waist. With a slow, deliberate motion, he takes a long drag of his cigar - blowing the smoke right in your face, the warm breath mingling with the heady air. 

Your surprised gasp is swallowed by his heated kiss, tongues wrestling as a hand digs into the tender skin of your neck. As if he owns you. 

Hips bucking wildly, and more frantically on Sukuna’s clothed cock - the expensive fabric of his pants now wet with your slick and his precum. You lose yourself in the moment.

But what you do register is the sharp unzipping of his pants. 

Snapping your eyes open, they meet with the large, leaking cock now pulsing in his hands, prominent veins glistening with precum that dribbles down his flushed head. Pulling away, you rip your gaze from his throbbing erection to look in his eyes - with what, fear? Anticipation? Both?

Sukuna lounges back on his armchair leisurely, relishing the way you watch - somewhat-awestruck - as his large hand begins moving in small, unhurried motions up and down his rock-hard length.

A harsh push of the barrel against your forehead snaps you out of your debauched reverie. “Didn’t tell ya to stop, did I, doll?” he hisses out, venomous and needy. 

The tension in the room is almost tangible, the air thick with lust and fear. As you watch the rhythmic jerks of Sukuna’s hand on his erect cock - up and down up and down up and- your body betrays you. 

Mind hazy with arousal, you place your hands on his shoulders, cunt clenching at the strong, defined muscle beneath your fingertips. You lean forward, lips meeting his in a desperate, desperate kiss. 

Pulling away, you reach for his heavy cock, wrapping your fingers around it, feeling it’s thickness and the heat. Sukuna lets out a low growl, eyes closing momentarily as you begin to stroke him in urgent, desperate tugs that have his hips bucking involuntarily.  

As you let him fuck your fist like his own personal fleshlight, you grind down against his thigh. Hard. His tight, twitching ball stimulating your clit just right as you get yourself off on Sukuna like a bitch in heat. 

Maybe it was the pure feral need in your hazy eyes - or maybe it was the way you lean your head into the gun pressing against your forehead - but Sukuna’s eyes widen, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. Only growing more amused by the second as you lean impossibly closer to take the cigar from his hand, placing it between your lips. 

Drawing deeply, inhaling the sweet, rich flavor of the tobacco. As you exhale, you deliberately blow the smoke into his face, the tendrils of vapor swirling around his beautiful features, mixing with the sweat and the scent of his cologne.

A deep bark of laughter makes Sukuna throw his head back - and you to clench around nothing on his lap. Hips becoming more and more animalistic against his. Your wrist now aching and wet with precum, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. 

Sukuna wraps his arm around you, pulling you close, his hand cupping your breast possessively. The other surges back with the gun on your forehead - where it had been faltering from pleasure before. “Make us come within the next five seconds before I blow your head off, doll.”

One.

Your fingers tighten around his cock, milking him. Movements from both ends become more and more filthy with the need to release.

Two.

You cup his heavy balls in your hands, clit catching on his zipper and making you mewl at the stimulation.

Three.

A thumb pressing down between his balls, hard. Hips stuttering with your impending release, losing your mind with each stroke.

Four.

Sukuna body goes rigid, choking on what sounds like your name, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he throws his head back and-

Five.

Cums all over your fist, thick, hot spurts of seed that paint your hands white. Splattering on your palm, and onto the chair below. You not too far behind as your body bows into his, stars behind your eyes as you chase peak after peak grinding down on his lap. You shudder, release taking everything out of you until it’s nothing more than mere tingles. 

A finger on the trigger. Pulling. 

Click! 

As Sukuna’s maniacal laughter rings in the heady room, you blink away the haze of your orgasm as you realizing with a jolt that there were no fucking bullets. 

Yet this bastard shot you anyway.

Skin heated against yours, lips ghosting your ear as Sukuna whispers. Low and gravelly. 

“I don’t need a gun to kill, doll.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - The professor

“You see, I really, really need this A to pass, sir.” you bat your lashes innocently, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. 

Short skirt hiking up as you lean over the desk in Professor Gojo’s stuffy office. Making sure that tight top you purposefully wore lets those striking blue eyes see a perfect view of your breasts - no bra today, of course. 

Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice. 

Success. 

Yet, Professor Gojo’s easy grin stays steadfast, “Well, maybe you should have studied harder then, hm?” You’d almost be fooled by his little act, yet your eyes catch the way he subtly crosses his legs, something stirring in those alluring cerulean eyes as he looks up at you through his lashes.

Deciding to play along, huffing as you cross your arms across your chest, “I did, maybe you should just let me take on an assignment for extra credit.”

His eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raising in question, “What kind of assignment?”

You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk at the way he makes it so easy for you. Reaching out immediately to trace a thumb across his full lips, leaning down far enough that your tits were basically spilling out of your top now. 

“The one where you fuck me, right here. Right now, on this desk.”

You could feel his pulse quickening against your hand, voice strained with need. “I should fail you right now for this.”

Brushing your lips against his earlobe, you whisper, “But you won’t, sir.”

Before you can react, in one, fluid motion strong arms lift you off the desk to splay you out so sinfully on it. You almost get whiplash from his pure strength, brought back only by the feeling of his muscular thighs warm against your ass. 

“If you want that A, then prove how badly you need it.” 

Your heart races as you nod, cheeks flaring with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. With a feral grin, you spread your legs apart, toying with that soaked g-string - exposing your bare pussy. Beads of slick pooling underneath you on the desk as the way Gojo’s eyes harden as you clench around nothing. 

You trail your hands enticingly down, down down. A delicate finger swiping at your folds, collecting your juices - popping right into your mouth. A smug huff of laughter leaves you at the way Gojo’s mouth drops into a surprised oh!

“You’re such a lil’ fucking minx, princess.”

You needed him now. 

Rubbing your thumb over your swollen clit, index finger bullying its way into your snug cunt the way you wanted Gojo to. You gasp, arching your back as waves of pleasure, “Oh, sir! Mmm- feel s’good inside me. Want more- hah-”

Pornographic whines of pleasure send blood rushing straight to Gojo’s cock. He was losing his mind at your little show. He was going insane.

“Your turn now.” you mewl, 

Your hungry gaze was locked with Gojo’s as he stands, removing his belt and unbuckling his pants. Your eyes follow the movement greedily, mouth watering at the impressive size of his erection. Leaking tip furiously flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Delicate beads of precum smearing on the frantic, jerky movements of his fist up and down and up and down and-

It’s a silent staredown. Your fingers matching the delicious rhythm of his fist, urgently fucking yourselves to each other. Trying to see who would break first. Up and down up and down - in and out in and out. Faster. 

“Didn’t think you were all talk, sir.”

That’s what makes the great Gojo Satoru break. Surging forward in hasty steps, your hands pinned to the cold surface of the desk, pussy now quivering in loneliness. 

Smack!

“Count to five, then I’ll give what you want. If you can’t even do that then I don’t think you deserve an A, princess.”

“O-one.” You whine at the harsh hand that smacks your ass, large handprint stinging into your searing skin. 

“This the hand?” Gojo whispers, voice ragged. Inspecting your hands before his tongue sticks out to lick a long, languid stripe up your fingers, pooling your juices on his tongue. Pretty blue eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks your fingers clean so filthily. 

Electricity courses through your veins as his long fingers deftly rip off your flimsy g-string, pocketing it safely in his work pants. You have half the mind to snark about it before you register Gojo’s throbbing cock flush against your pussy, leaking tip teasing in between your dripping folds leisurely. 

Your slick mixing with his precum, trailing down down down his glistening length, pooling on where he tightly gripped his base - splattering onto the hardwood office floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! that matched the heartbeat in your ears. 

“Beg for it, princess.”

“Hmmm, no.”

Smack! Smack! 

“Ah! Three! Hah- please, sir.”

You didn’t even know exactly what you were begging for - but you got exactly what you wanted. Breath catching in your throat at the way Gojo pushed into you with a raspy grunt, cock hot and heavy against your fluttering walls. 

His sheer size makes you feel like you’ll split apart any second now, but oh how you desperately wanted to be broken by him. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Gojo began to thrust. Shallow, mindless strokes, each one just to drive his enormous cock deeper to fit into your snug, ravaged cunt. 

“Fuck me, please, sir. Need you feel me up insi-”

Smack! 

“...four.” you whisper, voice strained with need and frustration.

Ass sore, marks probably there for days. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as Gojo loses grip on his restraint - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. Sheathing himself inside your dripping heaven till his heavy balls smacked your clit, your ass flush against the neat tufts of white at his pelvis. 

Wasting no time, Gojo starts up at an uncontrollable, merciless pace, every inch of him being forced all the way into your snug pussy. Your walls suck him up greedily as his prominent veins throb and graze just right on all your sweet spots. 

“This what you wanted, princess?” he rasps out, pace unwavering. “This is what you wanted, right? To be fucked like the pretty little slut that you are, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, please, sir.”

Each ramming of his cock drives you further and further up the cold desk, a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each slam. Knees weakened by his relentless pounding, you didn’t know how you were gonna hold yourself up anymore-

Ah, but you didn’t have to. Gojo Satoru, ever the gentleman, wrapped a single, muscular arm under your hips, kneading the skin underneath his fingertips, fucking you deeper onto his cock as if you were his personal fucktoy.  

“Oh fuck! Hngh- sir, right there.” you yelp at the new angle, his furiously flushed tip kissing your cervix so painfully good, g-spot abused as he grazes it over and over. 

Smack!

“Ah, sir! Five-”

And then you’re cumming. Hips pushing back animalistically, fucking yourself through your high. Chasing peak after peak.

Boneless and exhausting, dripping cunt clamping down on him you mewl, “Fill me up inside, sir! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs.” At the sound of your voice, Gojo’s eyes rolled back, his features contorted in pure ecstasy as his cock twitches savagely inside you, finally letting himself release. Cum gushing out in thick, pulsating spurts.

Filling your abused pussy to the brim, coating your walls an obscene white. Gojo keeps fucking himself through it, milking even the last drops of his length on your cunt. Breaths ragged, hips animalistic, low murmurs of your name leaving his lips. 

And as his climax bates into nothing more but mere tingles, lust-hazed, tired ears catch the distant knocking from outside. Ah, right that appointment.

Blinking back the vision to his eyes, he looks down at you. All fucked-out, swollen lips pouty, and his cum dribbling enticingly down your thighs. Oh how he just wants to bite into you - or have half the mind to just send you out there like this to show all those college losers who you belong to. 

Or, he thinks, eyes twinkling as he looks down at the generously large space under his desk.

You catch his gaze, a dangerous glint in them as he maps every curve and dip of your body. Marked and so very obviously his. Your pretty lips falling into a soft oh! as you realize just what idea was forming behind those darkened blue eyes. 

“Come in.”

Before you know it, you’re shoved hastily under the desk, Gojo’s still-furiously flushed tip kissing your bruised lips as the door swings open. God, if every assignment was like this then you’d probably end up valedictorian…

A/N. Can’t believe this got me b@nned for like a hour bro pls.

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | Sukuna X You | CHAPTER INDEX I /PROLOGUE (Part 1-68)

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters (uraume, gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, choso, maki, nobara, mei-mei, etc.)

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

AKI’S NOTES: Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, and I actively respond to comments as well as Asks. Also, if you’re interested, I will include you in the tag list. Just message me through whatever avenue you’re most comfortable with. Happy reading!

MASTERLIST

A/N: Yup. Intrigue and a video right off the bat.

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60

61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | CHAPTER INDEX II

ADDITIONAL NOTES: i will be using pics and other media which would fit situations and make the smau-ness of this piece a little more realistic and entertaining when i believe it’s appropriate/fitting to the plot (as i've done with my other smau). having said that, with regard to inclusivity, i just want to put it out there that they will not necessarily be aimed as the exact descriptions to fit a supposedly generic reader nor will they be representative of a specific race or color. it’s all for the simple fact of media availability, for funsies and the fact that i don’t exclusively write in consideration of those aspects when using reader-insert characters unless i specify it. thank you for understanding.

TAG LIST: CLOSED

PLEASE READ: If you wanna be included in the tag list, please make sure that your “Exclude __(tumblr username)__ from Tumblr search and recommendations” setting is OFF so I can actually tag you guys and you'll get notifs when I update. Thank you very much.

Here's a reference for the instructions from domainofmarie. Thank you very much, my friend. This is very helpful.

A/N: I have another version of this story somewhere on the internet with different characters, and I thought, why not make it a Sukuna smau. So excited for this! This'll probably come out this weekend lol or the next if push comes to shove.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240514]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[btsgotjams27]

perfect palette | jjk

vegas isn’t your first choice, but you love your best friend and are willing to do anything for her, including planning her bachelorette party. everything is all set, ready to go for the last day, until you receive a text from the model you’ve hired. he’s out sick but have no fear, he’s sent the next best thing to replace him for the night.

✨ title: perfect palette

✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader (nicknamed Ro)

✨ genre/au: slice of life, light angst | model!jk, las vegas!au

✨ rating: m/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.5k

✨ warnings: language, drinking, mild nudity, jungkook + reader are tipsy, kissing, reader is nicknamed Ro but is only called by her name a handful of times.

✨ a/n: hi again! so this idea came to me when i was in vegas lmao, and the painting idea is from 'this is us' (the show). i just thought it was a fun premise. i hope you enjoy it.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Your head is pounding, and your stomach is growling. As you pop your head up, you notice the hotel room is a complete mess: furniture has been knocked over, empty tequila and champagne bottles litter the room, and clothes and money are scattered across the floor.

A low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover up with the duvet. You definitely don’t remember sleeping with someone. Your mind races, attempting to recall last night’s shenanigans.

Whoever is next to you mumbles under their breath and turns over on their stomach. The silver chain that’s adorning their neck glimmers from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You can’t help but notice their broad chiseled back and the markings on it. No, they’re not scratches from nails—they’re purple lines, going from one beauty mark to the next, and each mark is surrounded by a pair of red lips. Turning your hand over, you see it’s stained with purple, matching the color on their back.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

You lean over, peering at the mysterious person. A scalloped tattoo delicately covers their shoulder and the rest of their arm is covered in ink. You giggle when you discover the tattoos are colored an array of hues—blue, red, green, and orange. It looks almost like a child was told to have fun and went wild with coloring.

The person groans again, switching to lay on their back side. You pull back, holding the duvet up to your chin. A small gasp comes out when you recognize the mystery person—it’s Jeon Jungkook, your old college buddy. Five years have passed since you last saw him at graduation. Last you heard, he was in Los Angeles, taking a jab at modeling and acting. Well, with his perfect face and body (your eyes quickly scanned over him), who would say no to him?

The real question now was, how did he end up in Vegas, and specifically in your hotel room?

—

The day before.

“Ro, cheer up please. We’re in Vegas, not a funeral,” Lottie says, swiping on a pink lip stain. “You’re only gonna feel like shit if you keep scrolling through those photos.”

Lottie’s right because looking through your ex-college sweetheart’s wedding photos is not doing anything for you. Four years of committing to a man who said he never wanted to get married, but there he was with a ring on his finger.

Your phone is swiped from your hand. “Hey!” you protest, standing to snatch it back. “Give it to me!”

“No! I will not let my maid-of-honor mope around like a sad puppy. Forget Jimin! He’s a married man now and a Libra—an October Libra too, I might add. That should’ve been a red flag right off the bat!”

She’s been your work wife for the past three years, and the two of you bonded over talking shit about your boss and colleagues. The only anecdotes she knew of Jimin were the ones you spilled on drunken nights.

“Lottie, give me my phone. I have to make sure everything is ready for tonight. It has to be perfect,” you explain, holding out your hand, insisting she gives it to you. But it was an excuse to keep lurking.

The itinerary for today consisted of: brunch, pool and cocktails, dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, then a night of painting–naked painting you should add. As if the Magic Mike show wasn't enough skin for Lottie and the rest of the crew. You somehow stumbled upon a small business, ‘Perfect Palette’ combining models and painting into one. This would be the next closest thing to being with a fully naked man. It's been a hot minute since you've seen one.

The bride-to-be reluctantly hands over the phone and you're scrolling through emails, switching apps to confirm everything.

“Take a chill pill, babe. Everything doesn't have to be perfect, but I am excited about painting tonight!” Lottie smiles and claps, then leans over to give you a hug. “Okay! Time to get ready for brunch.” She runs off to the restroom. “And no more pining over Jimin, please!” She yells back.

It's hard not to look through the photos of your ex-boyfriend because it was supposed to be you, not the woman he's kissing and holding. If only you could go back to graduation and fix things between you and Jimin…maybe life would've turned out differently for you.

As you open up Instagram (your burner account, obviously), you see a new post of him and his wife on a plane with the caption, “Can't wait to honeymoon in Bali.”

Bali was your dream honeymoon location.

With a heavy sigh, flinging yourself onto the bed, you turn off your phone. Lottie’s always right—this is depressing.

A ding goes off and you're hoping it's just one of the girls confirming the schedule for today. Grabbing your phone, you hold it above you, the screen illuminating your face.

The notification reads:

Namjoon 8:30 AM

Hey. I came down with the stomach bug so I can't make it tonight, but don't worry, I'm sending the next best thing to replace me. I promise the bride and your girls will love him. He's a newbie but he's just as beefy if not more than me. Have fun tonight.

You turn the phone over and rub your hand over your face. Great, just my luck, you think.

Well, whoever this person is, you hope he’s worth what you’re paying for.

–

The Primrose restaurant is the perfect spot to finish off a weekend in Vegas. It’s bustling with groups similar to yours—probably other brides and bridesmaids celebrating a last hoorah before committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life. At this point it seems silly, doesn’t it? Being with someone, choosing them on a daily basis, loving them for all their faults, but who are you kidding? You’re a hopeless romantic now waiting for your charming prince.

Gwen and Ivy sit across from you and Lottie, whispering and pointing to their phone like two high school girls. You don’t doubt they’re plotting something. You just hope it doesn’t involve more naked men, minus the one you’ll see tonight. There are only so many ripped abs you can take.

“What are you two whispering about?” Lottie asks while narrowing her eyes. She holds her glass of mango mimosa, taking a sip.

“Nothing!” They both speak in tandem and Lottie makes a face at the two.

“No surprises,” you plead with your friends. “The rest of the day is already planned.”

“Don’t worry, babe! We’re not planning anything else,” Gwen reassures.

“It’s just that—” Ivy is cut off when Gwen jabs her in the ribs. “Ow!”

Gwen puts her phone down, hiding it under her thigh. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“But it does—kind of—” Ivy interjects. “Jimin and his wife—they’re pregnant.” She grabs Gwen’s phone, showing a photo of Jimin kissing his wife’s belly.

“Oh,” you say softly. “That’s great. I’m really happy for him.”

You hate to admit it, but it stings. He’s living the life you dreamed of with him. The big house, big cars, but someone else got the big ring. And now they’re starting a family? Everyone seems to be moving forward, but it feels like you’re at standstill. It’d be amazing to have a man plop in your lap, but life just doesn’t seem to be going your way.

Clearing your throat, “Should we get ready for the pool?”

—

It doesn’t matter how many times you tug down your swimsuit, it keeps riding up in all the wrong places. The white linen shorts and tie top aren’t doing you any favors either by being paper thin.

The pool is bustling with hoards of party-goers. They’re laughing, drinking, and having the time of their life. An ex-boyfriend’s current life shouldn’t be affecting yours—but it is. You wish you could let go, let loose, forget everything related to Park Jimin. You’d rather be consumed by anything, anyone other than him.

Lottie’s at the bar, ordering a round of drinks. Gwen and Ivy are grabbing the attention of four guys. And it’s the last night before returning to reality, so you should be having fun, flirting, and making a fool of yourself to someone whom you’ll never see again. That’s what Vegas is for, right?

As a maid of honor, you’re definitely not living up to the hype and you know Lottie’s disappointed expression like the back of your hand, and yet you can’t unbunch your panties that are in a twist. The effects of the morning mimosas have worn off, and maybe you need something stronger. Hell—even a gummy sounds tempting at this point. Anything to forget how miserable your love life is.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Lottie asks. You shake your head no, but she knows you. She sits down, taking your hands. “Look, I’m sorry about Jimin. It sucks that he got married even though he said he never wanted to—” You’re ready to interrupt but she stops you, placing her index finger on your lips.

“Bup-bup-bup. I know what you’re going to say, but don’t,” Lottie implores, pleading with her eyes. She knows how much you torment yourself with lowly thoughts.

You want to say that there’s definitely something wrong with you. Why else would Jimin say one thing to you about marriage and then do the complete opposite?

“You’re more than enough, so please don’t think otherwise. Don’t let this one guy determine the course of your future relationships. He’s not worth your time and energy.”

Tears began to well behind your eyes as she continued, “You deserve to have some fun. So please, can we enjoy this last night together before we have to go back to our real lives?” Lottie pouts along with puppy eyes.

Lottie’s always right and that’s what you love about her. You hate that you’ve been a poor sport this weekend when you’re supposed to be celebrating your friend and having fun. You��ve been busy moping over a man who is now married with a child on the way. It’s a pathetic way to spend your last night in Vegas.

You let out a deep breath, expelling all the bad energy you’ve harnessed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been the worst maid of honor, but have no fear!” A server brings over the drinks that Lottie ordered, you pick up your Paloma cocktail and an oversized margarita, handing it to the bride-to-be. “Let’s have the best night. Cheers!” you say, clinking your glass against hers.

—

Tequila is one of your worst enemies, but also the best way for you to loosen up your limbs and lips.

By the time the four of you arrive at the hotel room, you’re unsure if you can even pick up a paintbrush, let alone even get paint on a canvas.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry that you love me! Change my mind up like it’s origami!”

The trio of you, Ivy, and Gwen are linked arm in arm trying to fit through the door while singing at the top of your lungs.

“Ugh—I swear Tate McRae is my spirit animal,” you say, turning to Gwen. “You know, she just gets it. Always gets me in my sad girl hours and then has me dancing the next.”

“I’m a-I’m a-I’m a wild ride that never stops!” Ivy continues singing, letting go of the two of you while Lottie trails behind. Someone has to be the semi-sober one.

“Hey Ro—they’re bringing everything right?” Lottie asks you.

“Yeah, the guy will bring the supplies. There’s an area cleared out for him. I’m gonna freshen up then I’ll be out.”

“I’m ready for a man to bare it all and ask nothing of me in return,” Gwen comments, taking a seat on the couch.

You chuckle, shaking your head at your friend. Hopefully, it’ll be the last naked man you’ll see this weekend. But either way, you’re sure you’ll enjoy this last activity.

The powder puff pats against your skin, making dust fly everywhere. Taking a step back, you give yourself the once-over in the mirror, but not before swiping a red stain on your lips. You don’t want to look disheveled for this naked guest. Apparently, he’s the ‘next best thing’ next to Namjoon, and you saw Namjoon’s photo on the website. You’re curious to see this mystery man and how this evening will end up.

As the door is ajar, you can hear the girls talking amongst themselves along with giggles. Whoever this guy is, he must be living up to their standards.

You’re unsure what to expect, how everything will turn out. Is this model fully naked? Are they covered? Do you keep your art piece? How are you supposed to bring a canvas of a naked man on a plane without receiving a few stares? You definitely didn’t think this part through.

“Ro! Get your butt out here. We’re gonna start painting soon!” Gwen yells, making you sprint out the door and into a curious situation.

Four canvases on easels and paint palettes on stools surround the model. His back is turned to you and he’s already half-naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist. One arm is completely inked from the top of his shoulder to his wrist. When he turns around and your jaw drops, not because he’s built like a Greek god (well, yeah he is), but because you recognize the half-naked man.

“Jeon Jungkook?” 

“Ro?” His eyes light up and he secures his towel, tucking it in his waist. “What are you doing here?”

You step toward him and the girls. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Err—”

Lottie clears her throat, blinking at you and then Jungkook. “Um, excuse me. How do you two know each other?”

The pair of you give each other a look and chuckle before you answer. “Oh, we went to college together.”

“Just went to college together? Nothing more?” Ivy narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you’re lying.

“What? No! We’re just friends. I was with Jimin, remember?” A pathetic reminder of your past relationship and now non-existent one.

“Uh huh,” Lottie remarks, taking a stride to you, pulling you in. “I wanna hear all the details about that one later.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” you whisper. “We’re friends—nothing more.” Catching Jungkook’s gaze, you smile softly before taking your seat on the stool.

“Are you ladies ready?” Jungkook asks, ripping off his towel, only to reveal another small hand towel covering his crotch.

The girls are yelping and hollering. You can’t help but cover your eyes, giggling at the fact that you’ll be painting one of your friends—naked.

—

Jungkook’s surrounded by the four of you. His pose is simple, straight forward. Literally straight forward because he’s facing you, knees slightly bent as he’s sitting on the stool. Your eyes have caught his every now and again, but he's focused on something past you.

Every inch of him is chiseled like a statue right out of Ancient Greece. From his jawline, to his collarbone, to his sculpted chest and not one, two, three, four, but eight pack abs. How is it that some people are just born to look like a Greek god? You didn’t think God had favorites, but Jeon Jungkook definitely proves you wrong.

Studying Jungkook’s physique for the past hour has made you realize how intimate this feels. Although the pair of you were friends in school, this is the most time you’ve spent with him outside of it, and the most time you’ve spent just looking at him. He is definitely a pretty boy with a soft, sweet energy.

Your brows are knitted, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out how to paint his inked arm. It’s looking more and more like a glob than anything distinguishable. It’s when your eyes catch his and he’s doing that smile, the one where one side curves up, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to the large clock in the living area. “Okay, ladies. It looks like time is up. How did everyone’s painting turn out?” There are groans and grumbles coming from the four of you. Jungkook chuckles, “Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

He turns, fetching a robe behind him, slipping it on to cover himself. Jungkook takes it upon himself to check out everyone’s canvases, and you’re dreading the moment when he approaches yours.

You clutch it, holding it close to your body, and you have no intention of Jungkook ever seeing it.

He tilts his head, giving you a look. “Ro—it can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, it is!” You turn, hoping to somehow destroy it before leaving tomorrow morning. It’s not that Jungkook looks horrible—it’s that you’re a horrible painter. But your death grip isn’t as strong as he is. With a sigh, you hand it over to him.

Jungkook nods with a pout on his lips. “It’s…”

“Horrible—I know.”

“No, no. I’d say it has an abstract feeling to it. I like it.” He gives a bright smile, returning the canvas to you.

You give him a thin smile, knowing that he’s just saying it because it’s his job. “By the way, you’re really good at this gig, but are you still pursuing the whole modeling thing?”

“I’m still doing that. I just do this gig for fun on the weekends. I mean, I get to meet cool, and sometimes crazy people and the money isn’t bad either.”

“Alright, ladies and gentleman. Tequila, anyone?” Gwen suggests as she wiggles her eyebrows, holding up the bottle. No one answers which makes her frown. “Aw, come on!”

“I’m game. What about you Ro?” Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised, eyes practically pleading for you to say yes. “One for me?”

You know it’s never ‘just one’ with Jungkook. You’ve seen first hand what that one line does to people, but you take the risk. “Okay, Jeon—just one.”

Everyone else gives in, raising and clinking their glasses to toast the bachelorette. Expelled breaths come from everyone after knocking back the clear liquor.

“Round two?” Jungkook asks, extending his glass toward Gwen in which she happily obliges.

You smirk, shaking your head as you catch Jungkook’s gaze.

—

It didn’t take long until you were feeling euphoric from the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’re always on cloud nine when you drink Tequila.

Lottie called it quits after her fifth shot. Gwen and Ivy are also well on their way to sleeping like babies. But you and Jungkook? You both have caught a second wind of energy.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry!” you exclaim, rubbing your belly as it growls. Jungkook’s trying to hold in a laugh. With a gasp, you turn to him, slapping his back, which is firm to the touch. “Shut up! Drinking makes me hungry.”

“Okay then, let’s get some room service. What are you craving?” 

You tap your cheek with your index finger, combing through the many options. “Pizza. No—wait, chicken wings.” Jungkook closes his eyes and hums. “No, nope! I want a juicy, juicy hamburger…with…with…” Your brain is obviously short-circuiting.

“Fries?” Jungkook answers.

“Yes! Fries! And a milkshake!”

“We can do that. I’ll call it in.”

An hour has passed and you and Jungkook are sprawled out on the bed, bellies full and minds are swirling.

“Oh man, I haven’t done anything like this in such a long time,” you admit, turning over onto your belly. You lay your head in the crook of your arm, facing Jungkook.

“What? Eating?” he teases.

You giggle. “No—getting tipsy and I don’t know, just being free.”

“This is you being free?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I gotta get some more tequila in you then.” He proceeds to get up, but you pull him back.

“No, no, no. Trust me, this is good. I don’t wanna black-out.”

“Okay, how about some champagne then? Just to celebrate your last night here,” Jungkook suggests.

You know you’ll regret it, but you agree. “Just one bottle.” Besides you already paid for it, you wouldn’t want it to go to waste.

He sprints out of the bedroom to the bar area to grab a bottle and two glasses. You can’t help but notice how his biceps flex as he pours the two of you a glass.

“To—”

“Lottie,” you finish his sentence.

“To Lottie.” He clinks his glass with yours before chugging down his bubbly.

You stare blankly at the Greek god himself. “You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?”

His lips thin into a smile. “I’m not doing anything…”

“Mmhm.” You take a gulp of your glass. You’re sure that if Jungkook were to ask you to do something, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. He made being around him comfortable and you always felt at ease.

“So, what should we do now?”

Your lips turn into a pout, peering around the room before a lightbulb goes off. “Ah! I have just the thing.” You rush over to your luggage, rummaging through it. Turning around, you wave a box of double tipped markers.

Jungkook knits his brows together. “And what do you think you’re going to do with those?”

You giggle. “You’ll see!”

—

Your tongue is out, concentrating on the purple line connecting from one beauty mark to the next. You’ve forced Jungkook to lie on his belly as you’re hunched over, straddling his legs.

“Don’t move!”

He relaxes, letting you continue on. Capping the purple marker, you set it aside. You’re giggling, tracing the line across his back and you can feel him squirm under your touch.

“You finished or what?” He peers over his shoulder but you turn him away.

"Just need to add the finishing touches." Leaning forward, you press your lips to the first beauty mark on his mid back, leaving a lipstick stain. Then you move to the next one beneath his shoulder blade, and continue on. His skin is smooth and warm under your lips, and though it's faint, you think you hear a low groan from him.

You sit up, adjusting your position, staring at the artwork you’ve created on Jungkook’s back. “Done—with your back at least. Now onto your arms.”

—

Jungkook turns his head to see what you’re coloring, flexing his bicep, making you color outside the lines.

“Oh my god! You made me mess up!” You try wiping the color, but it doesn’t budge. “You did it on purpose.”

“I did not! Why do you need to color inside the lines anyway?” he asks before returning to his previous position, resting his head on his arm.

“Because…that’s the way you’re supposed to color.” Taking an orange marker, you continue shading in his cloud tattoo.

“You don’t always have to follow the rules,” he breathed, gazing up at you.

“I know…” you mumble. Your eyes flick to his then back to the tattoo. You hate when things are not in your control. There were a handful of moments in your life when shit hit the fan and chaos ensued—Jimin being one of them.

You clear your throat, grabbing a yellow marker to color in a gradient effect. “And are you the type to not follow the rules?”

Jungkook chuckles, “I guess we don’t know each other well huh?”

“Well, I was practically glued to Jimin when we were in school.”

“What happened with you guys anyway? I thought you guys were like soulmates or something.”

“We just wanted different things,” you mumble, not wanting to elaborate. “What about you, hmm? Being a model in LA and Vegas? I’m sure you have women wanting to crawl into bed all the time.”

His gaze catches yours. “Exhibit A.”

You scoff. “Hey! We’re friends—that’s the only reason why you’re in my bed.”

“Uh huh. I saw the way you were eyeing me during the painting session. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it,” Jungkook teases, making you stop coloring, and pinch his underarm. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, just kidding!” He moves away, but you pull him back.

“Hey! I’m almost done coloring,” you say, gripping tighter onto his arm.

“That’s not fair. Only you get to color me?”

You sigh, tilting your head. “I’ll let you draw one thing on me.”

“Can I pick the location of where to draw it?”

“As long as it’s not my tits or ass.”

Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh. “Alright, how about your—”

Your hand flies to cover his mouth, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “Jeon Jungkook! That’s a hard no!”

“You practically saw my junk and I can’t see yours?”

“Well, I paid for it.”

“I can pay you too.”

You gasp. “You can’t just buy me.”

“Fine. Give me a few options and I’ll choose the placement.”

It would be easy to choose a place more visible, but you’re feeling frisky. “My hip or my back.”

Jungkook lips his licks, eyes flicking to your hips then back up at you. “And I can draw anything I want?”

You hum with a nervous tremble. You’re sure he wouldn’t draw anything ridiculous. “I trust you.”

“‘Kay then, turn over on your belly. Top off.”

Sitting up, facing Jungkook, your hands fall to the first button on your linen vest. Your eyes never leave his as you continue to unfasten the rest, then you toss it aside, revealing a blush pink see-through bra with floral detailing. Jungkook is trying his best to not let his eyes wander lower and you’re trying to do the same. Yes, you’ve stared at his half-naked body for an hour tonight, but you didn’t have the chance to explore it up close.

“Is this okay?” You know it is, but you’d like confirmation.

“Mmm.” He gestures for you to lie down, and you do as he asks.

Jungkook reaches for a black marker, the tip is thinner than the others. He shifts his position a few times before lying comfortably next to you. The warmth from his body radiates, heating up against your skin. You lie on top of your crossed arms, facing him, wondering what he’s planning to draw. Maybe some flowers or stars.

His brows are knitted as he’s concentrated on where to begin. He starts on the middle of your back, drawing circular shapes from what you can tell. The tip of the marker grazes back and forth, and his hand and fingers emanate a gentle touch upon your skin.

He’s quite handsome, you think. Even the scar etched on his cheek has a certain beauty, and his nose must be a butterflies favorite place to land on.

“Is it okay if I unhook this?”

“Hmm?”

“Your um,” he clears his throat. “Your bra.”

You’ve been too focused on Jungkook’s face, you hadn’t realized he was halfway down your back. “Yeah, um, go for it.”

He unhooks your bra in one fell swoop and the sides of your bra fall to the side. Continuing with his design, he concentrates on the smallest details going down your spine. Your eyes flutter shut as his warm breath softly fans the wet ink on your skin.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asks, trying to make conversation, realizing he doesn’t know you well, besides when you were with Jimin.

“Single as can be. What about you? A girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Situationship?”

Jungkook laughs. “What kind of life do you think I lead here, hm? That’s a lot of assumptions about me.”

“I don’t know. I just assume that someone that looks like you would have someone is all.”

“Well, I’m also single, and I’m a more monogamous kinda guy.”

“You are?” you question with a dramatic gasp. “That comes as a nice surprise. Maybe we should go get married tonight in a chapel,” you joke.

“With a few more drinks in me, I’m sure I’d say yes to anything.”

“Stop—don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious. I’m ready to meet someone and do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but a lot of the people I meet just want sex.”

“I’m sorry, did I just meet a guy who doesn’t want sex?”

Jungkook deadpans. “I didn’t say I don’t want sex. I do—I just wanna be a romantic and spoil someone.”

“Oh, well, you can always wine and dine me. I won’t object,” you tease.

As Jungkook continues drawing, the pads of his fingers create a light buzz of electricity, from one end to the other. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing from his soft touch. You almost let out a low moan but catch yourself when he gets to a ticklish spot near your ribs.

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think the right person will come along for you?”

A beat passes before he answers. “Yeah, I think so. Whoever they are, I just know that I'm probably not ready to meet them yet, but the right time will come.”

“But what if the right person came at the wrong time?”

“Or…you were the right person in the wrong place,” he suggests. “Are you talking about Jimin?”

“Yeah, I've been trying to avoid talking about him. He recently got married and his wife is pregnant too.”

“Ah, don't tell me you're feeling shitty? ‘Cause you shouldn't.”

A sad chuckle leaves your lips. “I'm pretty sure I fumbled it.”

Jungkook stops drawing on your back, softly calling your name, in which you hesitate to look at him for fear of bursting into tears.

“Hey…you didn't fumble anything. Pretty sure it's Jimin’s loss.”

“You're sweet, Kook. Thanks.”

Jungkook continues on his quest to finish his drawing.

“Is it almost finished?” you ask, clearing your throat. The tequila and champagne are starting to wear off and tomorrow’s reality is beginning to settle in. Tonight feels like a dream and you don’t want to wake up.

He hums. “Almost. Just a few more details then we’ll be good to go.” Short strokes lightly mark across your back and he doesn’t break his concentration. He continues for a few minutes before closing the cap. “Done. Wanna see?”

“I’m not gonna lie. I’m low-key scared to see what it is.”

Jungkook straightens his posture then reaches for his phone. “You have nothing to be scared of. It’s pretty. I promise.” He takes a photo, showing it to you.

Though the drawing session didn’t feel long, you could see the intricate detailing he went into drawing the moon phases down your back.

Sitting up then turning away from Jungkook, you use your arm to cover your breasts and secure your bra. “Are you always good at everything?” you ask, standing and walking over to the dresser, you pull out an oversized shirt, slipping it on, then you grab the tequila bottle and two shot glasses. There’s just enough to end the night.

Jungkook shifts to the edge of the bed, legs spread, and you slot yourself right in between. “Nah, I’m not good at everything.”

“Oh yeah? What are you not good at?” you ask, making him hold a glass while you pour his then yours.

He chuckles, looking away, then back up at you. “For starters, I’m not good at flirting.”

“You’re lying.” Your eyes lock in on his as you set the empty bottle down on the floor.

“I’m not.”

“Okay, practice on me then,” you say, trying to persuade him.

“A bit of liquid courage might help.”

You raise your glass and clink it against his. “Bottoms up.” The both of you wince as you knock them back, tossing the glasses on the carpeted flooring.

“Better?” you inquire, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the hair along the nape of his neck. Jungkook’s fingers delicately trace up and down your thighs, sending tingles across every inch of skin. His eyes are so starry, you’ll gladly get lost in them.

“You’re pretty.”

“Could say the same about you,” you giggle, twirling his hair in your fingers. “You’re right.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, reveling at your touch against his skin. “Mm, about what?”

“That you’re bad at flirting.” Your eyes linger on his lips, wondering what they taste like and how much you’d like to kiss the chocolate chip mole right underneath his bottom lip.

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at his feet then back at you. “Told you,” he says as he pulls away, propping himself up on the bed. He scans you from head to toe, loving the fact that you’re in between his legs. Hasn't seen you in years, but he’s intrigued.

Letting out a yawn, you cover your mouth then apologize.

“Damn, didn’t think my non-flirting would put you to sleep.”

You laugh. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be an even longer one tomorrow.”

“Right, I should head out too.” Jungkook shifts, scooting to the edge of the bed but you don’t budge.

“Do you wanna stay? Since it’s pretty late already.” Nearly 3 AM and you know you’ll regret this but right now, you’ll indulge in whatever’s left of this trip.

Jungkook’s silent for a moment before answering, “Sure. I’ll stay.”

You crawl over him, slipping under the covers that have been calling your name for the past few hours. The plush, fluffy pillows are like a cloud as you lay your head down. Jungkook follows your lead, doing the same, facing you. His fringe gently falls, covering his eyes, and you find yourself moving them out of his face.

“You’re cute,” you whisper, letting your finger trace his cheeks to his jawline.

“I don’t really like being cute,” he hums.

“Well, that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?” You inch closer to him, and can feel the warmth radiating off his body. It feels nice to be in close proximity to another human being again. And you like that there are no expectations. You can just be with Jungkook. The two of you run in the same circle of friends, and he makes you feel safe—like if anything were to happen to you tonight, he’d take care of you.

Your eyes flick to his lips, lingering longer than expected, and your cheeks are warming up, ridding the last bit of alcohol coursing through your veins.

Jungkook moves in, closing the distance. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, lips ghosting each other in a delicate dance before finally meeting in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into each other. Hearts beating in perfect harmony, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

With your breaths mingled, it creates a cocoon of intimacy as you savor the softness of each other's lips. Your fingers entwined in his hair, drawing him closer, bodies pressed together in a silent declaration of desire.

The last leg of this trip was fate trying to make you forget about your worries, and Jungkook was the perfect color to paint over your monochrome palette. 

There’s a longing deep inside you wanting to escape, and as much as you want to release it, you’d rather have him when you’re sober and in the right mindframe.

“Ro…” Jungkook moans as he pulls away, your hands splayed on his taut chest, forehead resting against his.

“Yeah?” you reply, leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t want you like this,” he says, taking you by surprise, almost like he could read your mind.

Letting out a chuckle, you answer, “No—yeah, makes sense.”

“It’s not that ‘I don’t want you’, I do! I just—don’t want this to turn out like other flings I’ve had in the past because I don’t consider you ‘a fling’ or someone to just toss the next day because we’re friends and I would never do that to—“

You interrupt him with a peck on his lips. “Jungkook. I understand. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun tonight and that’s all thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“No, you did! You helped me loosen up.”

“I’m sure it was just the champagne and tequila doing all the work.”

“They helped, but it was mostly you.” You smile, letting a beat pass before speaking again. “Should we try to get some sleep?”

He hums, leaning in for a kiss, in which you willingly give. You tug on his silver chain, asking for a few more kisses before letting him go.

Not even three minutes in and Jungkook is already snoring. His chest rising and falling, rumbling like a mountain. It’s cute, you think. Could get used to listening to this, almost like white noise.

You admire how Jungkook lives his life without worries, letting the wind guide him. It might not happen right away, but maybe when you return to reality, you should consider not always staying within the lines. That it’s okay to go out of bounds and live a little. Life shouldn’t be so serious all the time.

—

There’s a light sound of pitter patter sweeping across the floor with shushed ‘Ows’ and ‘shut up’. You weakly open your eyes to see what the commotion is. Your body wants to get up, but the pounding migraine is saying otherwise.

A loud thump makes you blink your eyes open and pop your head up. There’s furniture knocked over, tequila and champagne bottles are scattered everywhere, along with clothes and money.

The low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover yourself with the duvet. They’re facing away and you can’t make out who this mystery person is. You peer over to find a man covered in tattoos, and it looks like a child tried to color inside the tattoo lines but failed miserably.

He mumbles gibberish under his breath and turns over onto his stomach. Great, now you can’t even get a good look at him, you think.

His silver necklace glimmers from the sun peeking through the blinds. And holy shit—his shoulders?

Broad.

Chiseled.

For all you know, he could be some kind of athlete. Then you notice the purple lines on his back, and no—they aren’t scratches from nails, the lines connect from one beauty mark to the next across his back. It’s like one of those connect the dot pictures, except the finished drawing wasn’t anything recognizable. But surrounding each beauty mark is a pair of red lips, and as you look down at your hands, you find that you’re the culprit who must’ve drawn on this man.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

Another groan escapes the man’s lips and he turns over again. You pull up your side of the duvet, further covering yourself, and the smallest gasp comes out. It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook, an old college buddy.

The duvet is pulled down, covering his bottom half, revealing his taut chest and not one, two, three, four—but an eight pack set of abs. Is it humanly possible to even have more than six?

How did he end up in Vegas? And specifically in your room?

“Jungkook?” you whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm…”

You move closer, feeling the warmth from his body. “Jungkook, it’s time to get up.”

Still half asleep, he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “Just five more minutes, Ro,” he says, nuzzling into you.

“Jeon Jungkook! What are you doing?”

He chuckles, smiling, finally peeking his eyes open. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

“I…remember things…” you say, lying through your teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook moves into a sitting position, turning to you. “So you know we got married, right?”

Your jaw drops and eyes widen. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re lying.”

“You’re the one who suggested it!”

How could you let yourself get married in Las Vegas? And at your best friend’s bachelorette party? It’s not like you’re trying to steal her thunder, quite the opposite, really. This was supposed to be about her, not you. Fuck—Lottie’s going to hate you, isn’t she?

Jungkook quietly watches you freak out. Wonders how long he can let this continue before telling the truth. He thinks you’re cute when you’re all flustered.

“No, we can't be married! I don't even know you and how would this even work? We live like 3000 miles away from each other? And would you move to New York? Or would I move to LA? What if your family doesn't like me? Your friends even? Wait–do you even like me? Oh–Jungkook, how did we let this happen?” you ask, burying your hands in your face.

Question after question runs through your mind and Jungkook is sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“Why aren't you freaking out?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles, leaning over toward you. “You're really cute, you know that?” he says.

Your eyes follow his finger as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, it's time to get down to the important things. “Kook–please! This isn't the time to tell me I'm cute. We have bigger things to worry about. We're married!”

He sucks in his lips, trying to hold in a laugh.

You knit your brows and narrow your eyes. “Unless…we’re not married…”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh, his finger gently caresses your cheek. “Maybe one day, pretty girl. If we ever get to that stage of course.”

A smack against his arm reverberates throughout the room. “Aye! I'm gonna kill you. You really had me worried.”

He rubs the ruby red spot that's imprinted on his arm. “Why? Because marrying me would've been horrible?”

No, you think, quite the opposite.

“Of course not. It's just, we don't know each other and I wouldn't want you to feel trapped in a marriage,” you explain.

You'd at least wanna go on a real date and get to know him before strapping him down forever.

He nods in agreement. “Well, I had fun last night. Hence all the things I let you do to me.” Jungkook points out the badly colored arm and connect-the-dots on his back.

“Oh, I'm so sorry about that.”

“I'm not. I'm glad you had fun even though you don't remember it.”

“Please tell me I didn't act like an idiot.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, you're fine, but uh, I should get going since you have a flight to catch.”

“Oh, shit. My flight.” You reach over to find your phone. It's already 9 AM, and thankfully the airport isn't far away and TSA Pre-check has been a lifesaver.

With another glance, you see your clothes and Jungkook's scattered on the ground. He reaches to grab his shirt and sweats.

“I, um, I was pretty bold last night. Wasn't I?” you were referring to the pair of lips covering his back.

Jungkook snickers. “Yeah, just a bit, but I didn't mind it at all,” he says, slipping his shirt on. He stands, putting his sweats on and you can't help but stare at his peachy ass in his black Calvin Klein–the tight kind. “Do you remember anything else from last night?”

Your mind thinks back to the whirlwind of last night. There was definitely alcohol involved because you only act with confidence under the influence of Tequila.

But a recollection of soft lips and entangled hair between your fingers flutter back into the present just for a fleeting moment.

You shake your head, wanting to keep this memory to yourself.

Jungkook's lips thin into a smile as he ruffles his bed head hair. “Call me next time you're in town?”

You stand to meet him. “Or you can call me when you're in the Big Apple,” you reply, handing him your phone.

He dials your number, so you can have his. “Mm, looks like that confidence hasn't left yet.”

“Mm, I have a smidge of it left.”

“Yeah?” He draws closer, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah,” you whisper, taking in his warmth and scent.

Last night was hazy but bits and pieces are coming back. You're not sure if a lot of these moments with Jungkook are real or just a dream. You'd like to hope he enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him.

“It was really good to see you, Kook.”

“Good to see you too, Ro. Don't be a stranger, okay?” He turns on his heel to open the bedroom door, but turns around to say one last thing. “Oh, and don't worry too much about the right person. Who knows, maybe you’ve met them already.”

You wonder if he's referring to himself. You have to admit, he's been making you smile and laugh more than usual, even making you blush.

“Mm, I'll keep that in mind.”

He flashes a smile, opening the door.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, turning to you again.

You reach up to kiss him on the cheek. “What happened in Vegas, can it not stay in Vegas?”

[hyperactively-me]

break in, break down

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering. You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him. With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

this has been sitting in my drafts for like, ever. it's not the best cause its super old, like months old and i lowkey forgot i even had it, but it'll do for now while i'm in this writing rut.

happy reading <3

warnings: home invasion, panic attack reaction (i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything please!)

A loud bang reverberates through your apartment, your peaceful sleep interrupted.

You open your eyes with a start, the volume of the sound causing your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

You're silent for another moment until the sound of glass shattering causes you to jump. You sit up now, dumbfounded for a brief moment before unshakable anxiety takes over.

There's no way this could be happening to you right now.

You immediately leap out of bed, grabbing a stray hoodie off the floor, slipping it over your thin pajamas. Next, you grab your phone with shaky hands, trembling from the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your veins. The sounds from outside your bedroom are starting to get louder. You swipe your car keys from your drawer, shoving them into the pocket of your hoodie.

In a frenzy, you grope under your bed for a baseball bat, struggling to steady your shaking hands as you grip it tightly. The rattling of your doorknob nearly makes you pass out in fear. Simon had told you multiple times to keep your door locked when you sleep, stressing to you that it wasn't safe to leave it unlocked, especially at night.

There was no way you could escape through the hallway. Lucky for you, your apartment is on the first floor of the building, meaning that you would be able to safely jump out of your bedroom window without injuring yourself.

You place all your things down quickly, unlatching your window from its locks. You heave it open with all your might, grunting as you hold it up to lock it into an open position. Grabbing your baseball bat first, you throw it out the window and onto the grass below you. Could never be too safe.

Suddenly, the person or people on the other side of your door start kicking at it, the flimsy wood shaking from the impacts. You bite back a scream, prompting you to jump out of your window, dropping onto the grass below you clumsily.

You don't bother looking back as you sprint to your car in the adjacent parking lot, throwing yourself into the drivers seat unceremoniously.

Without another thought, you dial 911. Running on pure adrenaline, you tell the operator your address and the urgency of the situation. The kind voice on the other end tells you that the police are on their way before you hang up.

You bite back a sob as your shaking hands type in Simon's phone number. You hold your phone up to your, chewing your finger as it rings once, twice, and the line picks up.

"Hullo?" a scratchy, sleep-ridden voice on the other end of the line rings out. His accent sounds particularly thick.

"Simon," your voice breaks, the adrenaline now worn off, leaving you a wreck.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, now sounding more awake. You hear shuffling on the other end.

"I- I think my apartment got broken into," you sob, fat tears now freely falling down your cheeks. "I'm so scared," you cry, bawling like a baby.

Simon's voice takes on a sharp urgency. "'M coming over right now. Where are you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm in my car, in the parking lot," you say tearfully, trying to wipe the tears from your face unsuccessfully.

"I've already called 911; they're on the way—" you add, clutching onto your phone.

The sound of a door opening and slamming shut crackles through the phone. "Be there in ten. Stay on the line, love."

"I'm scared," you cry again, your free hand trembling as you reach to make sure your car door is locked.

"I know, love, I know. Just hang in there. 'M on my way," Simon reassures you, his voice gentle. The ten-minute wait feels like an eternity as you sit in your car, sniffling every so often as you look out your car windows to make sure no one is coming towards you.

Sirens wail in the distance, the police clearly arriving on scene. Despite the growing fear gnawing at you, Simon's voice provides a source of comfort.

"The police are almost here," you breath into the phone, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"Good, I'm here," he grunts. You look up and see his truck hurtling through the parking lot, stopping abruptly right behind your car. He slides out of his car, rushing to the drivers side of your car.

The moment he reaches your car, you throw open the door and practically fall into his arms. Simon holds you tight as you fall into him, sobs wracking your body.

"Don't cry," he soothes, pulling you tighter against him. "'S alright, 's handled."

He cradles you in his grasp, running his hand over your hair as you sob into his t-shirt, fists bunching up the fabric. You cling to him as if he's your lifeline, the scent of his t-shirt grounding you ever so slightly.

"I've got you," he murmurs, rubbing your back.

Your sobs gradually subside into quiet sniffles, and you take a deep breath.

The distant wailing of sirens grows closer, indicating the police are here. Simon releases you just enough to glance over his shoulder at the approaching vehicles. "The police are here," you whisper, your voice shaky but relieved.

The flashing lights of police cars illuminate the surroundings as officers approach. Simon steps back, maintaining a protective stance beside you.

Two police officers approach you and Simon, asking for details about the break-in. You pull at the hem of your hoodie, trying to cover up your practically bare thighs from your tiny pajamas. Simon settles his hand on your lower back, encouraging you to speak to the officers. You recount the events timidly, telling them as much as you know. After providing your statement, the police assure you they'll investigate your apartment, but advise you that it's not the best to stay there tonight. For obvious reasons.

Upon their insistence of you spending the night somewhere else, before you could even open your mouth, Simon is insisting, no, demanding that you stay with him for the night.

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering.

You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him.

With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

As you approach his truck, Simon opens the door for you. He helps you up into the passenger seat, making sure you're settled before closing the door with a determined thud. Simon then strides around to the driver's side, the scent of him lingering in the air as he gets in. The engine roars to life, and you find comfort in the steady hum of the engine.

The drive to Simon's place is mostly quiet. He occasionally glances at you, concern etched into his features. You stare out of the window, the events of the night replaying in your mind. You shiver in your seat, thinking about what could have happened if you hadn't escaped through your window. Simon's hand finds yours, a silent gesture that makes your heart ache with gratitude.

As you pull into Simon's driveway, you're met with the warm glow of his porch light. The familiar sight brings a new sense of relief. It's not the first time you've been to his quaint home. Simon turns off the engine, and without a word, he's at your side, opening the door for you again.

He leads you inside, the click of the door shutting behind you echoing in the quiet house. Simon heads to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets. Moments later, he appears with a mug of tea, a small but comforting gesture. He hands it to you, the warmth seeping into your cold hands.

"Drink this. It'll help calm your nerves," he says, his voice gentle.

You take a sip, the familiar taste of chamomile offering a small respite. Simon sits across from you, watching as you try to steady your trembling hands. The silence between you isn't uncomfortable; it's a shared understanding that words might not be enough to mend the damage that's been dealt.

After a while, Simon breaks the silence. "I'll make up the spare room for you. Take your time. We'll deal with everythin' in the morning."

He disappears down the hall, leaving you alone in the living room. You look around his living room, eyeing his front door for a brief moment. You finish the tea and set the mug on the coffee table, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

When you enter the spare room, you find it tidy and pretty bare. The scent of clean sheets and the comforting atmosphere of his home a stark difference from your own. You watch as he double checks the windows to make sure they're locked tight. He also shows you the lock on your own bedroom door.

"Everythin' is secure, 've triple checked it all," Simon states, turning from the window to look at you. His concern is evident in his eyes, and you nod in response.

"Thank you, Simon. I appreciate all of this," you say, your voice quiet.

He moves over to the wall, crouching down to plug a night light into the wall. He taps it a few times to make sure it works. When it flickers on, he grunts, satisfied. Pushing himself up to standing, he walks over to you.

He gives you a reassuring smile. "No need to thank me. 'S the least I can do. You get some rest. 'M right across the hall if you need anything."

With that, he leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him. You make sure to lock the door behind him as he leaves. You crawl into bed, pulling the covers over your weary body, exhaustion settling in.

You close your eyes, hoping that sleep will offer some reprieve. As you lay there, the events of the night replay in your mind. The fear, the vulnerability, and the violation of your home weigh heavily on you. Slight sounds make you jump in fear, and all of a sudden you start to breath heavily. You can't be in here, not alone.

You stumble out of the room, practically falling into the hallway. The dim glow of the nightlight casts long shadows, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Determined, you make your way to Simon's door and knock softly.

The door opens, and Simon appears, concern etched on his face. "Everythin' alright, love?"

You can barely form the words, your voice barely a whisper. "Can't stay in there alone."

Without hesitation, Simon opens the door wider, gesturing for you to enter. His room is dark, all lights off. You step inside his room, tugging your hoodie tighter around your body. You settle onto the edge of his bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to ward off the residual fear.

Simon shuts and locks the door behind him, plunging you both into darkness, save for the slight shine of the moon pouring through between a crack in his curtains.

Simon stands in front of you, looking down with a mix of empathy and concern in his eyes. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need. I don't mind."

"Thank you," you manage to say, the vulnerability in your voice more pronounced in the darkness of the room.

Simon hesitates for a moment before flicking on a small bedside lamp. The soft light casts a warm glow across the room, revealing a space that's both lived-in and comforting. You feel a bit more at ease.

He pulls a chair from his desk and sits across from you, leaving a respectful distance. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, the weight of the night's events hanging in the air. Simon's gaze is unwavering, and you find solace in the fact that he understands what you need without the need for words.

As the minutes tick by, the atmosphere in the room becomes less tense. Simon breaks the silence, his voice a gentle murmur. "I don't want you to go through this alone. You deserve to feel safe, love."

You manage a weak smile, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, Simon. You really don't have to be doing all of this for me--"

"Don't say that, I want to," he cuts you off gruffly, offended as if you would even suggest that you weren't worthy enough of his care.

His response hangs in the air, and you notice a flicker of something in Simon's eyes—a hint of frustration or something deeper. The unspoken tension lingers, causing you to shift slightly.

"I just... I don't want you to feel unsafe," Simon adds, his voice softer this time. He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, his gaze fixed on yours. "Or alone. Fuckin' hell, if you hadn't been able to get out of there..."

He stops, jaw ticking as he thinks. He can't even say it.

The room feels charged with unspoken emotions, and you sense a vulnerability in Simon that mirrors your own.

"Simon," you say softly, your voice a gentle reassurance, "I feel safe with you."

"I've... 've cared about you for a long time, maybe more than I should," Simon admits, his words hanging in the air like a fragile confession.

The vulnerability in his admission tugs at your heart, and you find yourself pushing yourself up off the edge of the bed, cupping his face in your hands.

"I've cared about you too," you confess, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted.

He looks up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of relief and adoration. Simon's hand reaches up to grasp your wrist lightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

"I never want you to feel unsafe or alone again. I can't stand the thought of somethin' happenin' t' you."

Your heart swells at the sincerity of his words, and you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The conversation lulls, and for a moment, it's just the two of you in the sanctuary of Simon's bedroom. The emotional exhaustion begins to take its toll, and your eyes grow heavy.

He stands from his chair, grasping your upper arms gently, leading you towards his bed once again. Before he sits you down, he looks at you expectantly.

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes," you nod, "I've never wanted anything more."

With your permission, he lays you down on his bed, following you into the bed with a contained eagerness. He drags you up until you're settled on a pillow. Simon slides into the mattress right next to you, pulling the covers up and over the both of you. You turn on your side to face him, eyes searching his face just before he turns off the lamp, plunging you both into darkness.

Simon's hand brushes against your forearm, seeking permission yet again. You scoot over until you're flush against him, cheeks heating up at the proximity. You feel Simon's warm presence beside you, his hand finding its place on your waist before he pulls you up against him, cuddling you. Simon's fingers trace patterns on your back, a soothing motion that pulls you deeper into relaxation.

"Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need anything, love," Simon whispers, playing with the ends of your hair.

"Thank you," you whisper into the darkness, your voice barely audible but carrying a depth of gratitude.

He tightens his grip on your waist, a silent affirmation that he's here for you, that you're not alone. The warmth of his touch and the gentle rise and fall of his breath provide a sense of security that eases the lingering tension in your body.

. . . 

The morning light begins to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow in Simon's room. As you slowly awaken, the events of the previous night come back to you in fragments. You turn slightly to find Simon still asleep beside you, his features softened by the morning light. His arm is draped protectively over you, and a sense of peace settles in the room. For a moment, you simply revel in the quiet stillness, savoring the moment.

As Simon begins to stir, his eyes meet yours, and a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Mornin’," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. The air in the room feels different, more relaxed.

Simon props himself up on one elbow, his gaze searching yours. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I thought I would," you admit, a genuine warmth in your voice. "Still kinda freaked out that people broke in to my apartment, but better."

He nods thoughtfully. "We should probably get up, check in with the police," Simon suggests, but there's a reluctance in his eyes to let go of the warmth of the bed.

You cuddle against him once more, hugging him tightly. His arm comes to wrap around your back, hand splayed across your skin.

"Yeah, we should," you say, pulling away gently as you push yourself out of bed.

"We're goin' together," he tells you. "And I will be installing a new security system in your apartment."

You manage a small smile. "I don't think you understand how much I appreciate you for this."

He sighs as he leads you to his small kitchen. "You never have to thank me for anything, love."

Before you can retort, he turns to you. "Let's get some breakfast in ya. How do you like your eggs?"

[hxney-lemcn]

Lilia with 🪻💔💘!! it can be like about us going home but changing our mind or something, up to you !! ^_^

have a great day and thank you!!

(you can also add 😳 at the end)

a/n: I keep one upping myself. I feel like Lilia is so complicated so I had to write some extra exposition and it just got out of hand. Enjoy!

tw: none.

wc: 0.7k

2k follower event | master list

This was it, you had been waiting for this day for what felt like forever, so why did your heart feel so heavy? Crowley had somehow managed to find you a way home, and as you stood in front of the mirror, you found yourself hesitating. The stupid question you’ve been avoiding is biting you now. Did you actually want to go back? You had made so many friends and although your start was rocky (and the overblots were rough), at the end of the day you felt welcomed and at home. Taking a hesitant step forward, you felt yourself tense, was this truly what you wanted? Leaving behind all those you’ve grown to love? What about the people waiting for you back at home? What was home? This was all happening too quickly and you felt yourself close to panicking. 

“Wait,” The familiar timbre of Lilia’s voice rang out, halting your next step. Looking back, you felt your eyes water at his hesitant look, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say what he was going to say. “Don’t go…please.”  

You felt the dam break, tears falling down your cheeks. You rushed over to the bat fae, wrapping your arms around him. You had grown the closest to Lilia during your time in Twisted Wonderland, finding solace in a fellow old soul. You had felt awkward, being surrounded by people who were younger than you, the only exceptions being Leona and Lilia. At first Lilia had found you fun to scare, popping in and causing you to flinch, but he noticed how you seemed alienated for two reasons, your age and your lack of magic. So out of his kind heart, he decided to tease you by using slang that he barely understood, only knowing it was all the rage with kids these days. 

He found your scowl cute, pout adorable, and he nearly felt threatened for being the cutest. But it was those moments, late in the night when you’d open up and talk about how you felt, your home world, and your wishes. Those quiet times where you’d look at each other with fondness and a shared understanding. Lilia found himself realizing he was in it deep, especially when he slowly opened up to you about his past. Not about the harsh general, no, he wasn’t ready to share that, but about his time raising Malleus and Silver, sharing embarrassing childhood stories. Seeing your reactions to the silly things they went through in the past made his heart melt and his mind race. He wasn’t ready for another doomed romance. You were never going to stay, you weren’t a part of this world, so why did his heart have to choose you?  When your arms wrapped around him, tears falling onto his shoulder, he felt a flutter of hope. A selfish part of him wanted you to stay by his side, and he was letting you see the exposed, raw part of him that he tried to keep hidden. 

“I don’t know what to do,” You muttered solemnly, feeling just the tiniest bit of comfort in his arms.

Lilia pulled away just enough to look into your watery eyes, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his chest, “Whatever you choose, my heart will continue to beat for you.”

That seemed to make up your mind, after all, how could you leave the one you loved? 

Turning to Crowley who had been awkwardly watching the entire encounter, you told him, “I’m not going back.” “You’re not?” Both Crowley and Lilia asked in unison.

“Why would I?” You asked Lilia softly. “I have you.” Giggling in excitement, Lilia couldn’t hide his joy, picking you up and twirling you around. You laughed with him, clinging to him as he set you down. His ruby red eyes watched you fondly as you smiled brightly at him, puffy eyes now filled with mirth. 

“Are we about to kiss right now?” Lilia whispered, trying to smother his laughter, he was just so happy. 

“Are you serious?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think that even needs to be asked.”

And as your lips met in a loving, smiley mess of a kiss, you felt that you made the right choice.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 2 - let the world know

“I wish I could let the world know that it’s okay to let the pain show and even though times seem bad, it always rains before the rainbow.” -A Little More by Machine Gun Kelly

Dp x DC: Regent!Jazz AU Vigilante!Jazz AU

Prompt Masterlist

In traditional Fenton luck, shit goes sideways when Jazz wasn’t looking.

The Joker breaks out of Arkham.

Now, Jazz is fully aware of the Clown’s evil-ness and Danny’s trauma with all things Circus thanks to Freakshow has her hackles raised when the spirits of Gotham start screeching in her ear mid-patrol that “Joker is free!”

Like hell the guy would stay that way.

Lady Gotham is anxiously watching the Regent stomp towards Arkham, where the Mad Clown had yet to fully leave the premises into Gotham proper.

Would Jazz kill the Clown?

Many of the Unquiet Dead of Gotham are the staunchest supporters of kill, kill, kill on a good day, but with the Clown?

They seethed, they writhed, they thirsted for their vengeance and with every life taken by the Joker, the number grew.

Jazz hated the thought of death, ironically.

It’s one thing to rule the Dead and Never-born, but to add to the Realms' population by her own hand?

(It wouldn't be the first time.)

Well, Jasmine Nightingale would have to check her morals at the door, because when Lady Gotham begins to hesitantly (then vivaciously) root for you to “please end him, dear” one has to reconsider a few things about themselves.

For instance, how would she avoid becoming the next Joker? It was a hushed confession of the Lady that made Jazz hesitate at the border between Gotham and Arkham-

A dead man's switch would trigger a Joker Venom bomb, infecting those nearby.

Would the gas affect a Liminal?

True, Jazz was very much a living being (she often woke up in a cold sweat with a hand at her neck, heart beating against her fingers), but she was Death-claimed.

Was this how Danny felt as a Halfa? Weighing the living half vs the dead to see which would win out in a fight?

Not for the first time, Jazz found herself thankful that she was only Liminal.

Heart in her throat, Jazz considered her options.

It would be easy to just run him through with her ecto-sword, a gift from her once-mentor Pandora, but she would likely have to fight her way through bats and birds to both get to and away from the Clown.

Jazz could also just ask for aid from Lady Gotham and/or the Unquiet Dead to enshroud her from vigilant eyes as she absconds with Joker to Crime Alley.

(Jazz was sure Red Hood wouldn’t mind if she dropped a dead clown at his feet. He seemed the type to appreciate a job well done.)

(If her heart raced slightly in response to that thought, no it didn’t.)

Despite all her reservations about murder, killing the clown felt like an honor for the Regent.

(Blood had long since been on her hands.)

The morning would bring chaos as the people learned of the Joker's fate, Batman's failure to return him to Arkham, and how someone finally had enough of the black furry's inaction to stop the clown.

Sometimes, inaction is just as bad as action.

(A Fenton who learned that well.)

Jazz, in full Regent armor, mounted the Joker's head at the mouth of her alleyway, the same one that she used as a checkpoint between her apartment and the Park Row graveyard. A grotesque trophy that would be used as a symbol of the Regent's authority to avenge, of her willingness to cross the line of morality.

The Unquiet Dead who owed their demise to the Joker could now pass on and Jazz could call it a night.

That was, until whatever tomorrow brought around to spite the younger Fentons.

Typical.

=============================

[This was more of a short fic rather than the prompt I first started with, but it just came to me. I want to explore some things with events leading up to Danny and Jazz in Gotham, but I'm not sure. I need help to describe Jazz's armor because I have a general idea, but I'm not sure about the details. Ideas?]

[Hopefully I'll be able to put more Regent!Jazz than Vigilante!Jazz, but I also really like Jazz as one. Bet you can't guess the name I use for her as a vigilante!]

[tokkishouse]

hii i say ur " The first time you call him a term of endearment" post and can i request one where the roles get reversed with kaeya, thoma & heizou. fem!reader gets really really flustered hearing the term of endearment (perhaps one related to snow in kaeya's), tysm <33

(Sfw) Calling Each Other Terms of Endearment for the First Time

Characters: Diluc, Heizou, Kaeya, Thoma, Tighnari

Warnings: Slightly suggestive in Heizou and Tighnari's part, mentions of injuries in Tighnari's part

WC: 1.8k words total

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

He calls you a term of endearment first

The steady tick-tock of the clock reverbs around the study. Paper shuffling and ink scratching fill in the gaps, and the occasional chatter shared between you and Diluc adds life to the quiet environment. Days like this were normal-- enjoying each other's company even with minimal interaction.

The peace is broken by the sound of liquid splashing against the mahogany desk and Diluc's sudden groan in frustration. You look up from the book you were reading to see that ink had splattered on the parchment and his hands. He clicks his tongue and looks up at you, offering a small smile.

"Dearest, could you get a towel? Or just something to clean myself up with."

Your grip tightens on your book in surprise and you freeze in your spot. The redhead watches you strangely as you stumble over your words for a response.

"D-Dearest?" you finally spit out, incredulous. It's his turn to be embarrassed, his face turning as red as his hair.

"Y-yes, that's what I said. Do you not like it?" he's become shy, scared that he has overstepped his boundaries. You quickly shake your head, standing up abruptly and sending your book tumbling to the ground.

"I'll go get you a towel now!" you announce, quickly rushing out of the study. Diluc watches on, still embarrassed but slowly calming down.

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Two dango milks please!" Heizou orders for you two. You decided to have a stroll around Inazuma City-- Heizou had been busy with the recent Test of Courage situation and hadn't been able to spend some quality time with you. He promised that as soon as the situation was resolved he'd take you out.

And that's what brings you to today-- sipping on dango milk while you both sit on a nearby bench. You cringe at the initial taste, but stomach it as you chug the rest of it.

"Do you want to check out the Yae Publishing House next?" Heizou suggests, looking over. He stifles a laugh when he sees the milk staining your upper lip, unbeknownst to you. Seeing him struggle to conceal his laughter, you quirk an eyebrow up.

"Something on my face?" his smirk widens and he reaches over with a napkin to wipe up the milk.

"I didn't know you were trying to grow facial hair, doll. The white suits you," he teases, carefully dabbing away at the milk.

Your face warms up in embarrassment and you hiss at him, trying to bat him away from your face.

"Heizou please!"

"What? Would you rather I tell you what it reminds me of? After all, a delightful image appears in my head and I'd like to recreate it-"

"Shut up!"

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Race you to the beach!" you challenge, breaking into a sprint toward the beaches at Falcon Coast. Kaeya's jumps in surprise but is quick to recover as he breaks into a sprint himself. Despite your headstart, his agile body is quick to catch up and he soon overtakes you.

You both approach the glistening coast fast, and Kaeya's slides to a stop right at the shore, cementing his victory.

"Always just a little too slow it seems~" he teases, watching you jog up to meet him. You sigh, shaking your head.

"I could never beat the calvary captain could I?" he laughs, turning away.

You notice two buckets and a shovel resting against a giant rock and walk over to them. They look like children's pails-- one is blue and the other is your favorite color. You look up at him, and instead of his confident smirk, it's melted into a sheepish smile.

"I wanted to go seashell hunting with you. I used to do it all the time when I was younger," he begins and slowly trails off. A distant look twinkles in his eyes and the air turns somber. You clear your throat, pulling him out of it and you reach down to grab the bucket.

"Well let's get started then! Who knows, maybe we'll find treasure too!"

Kaeya's watches you carefully, and his smirk reappears.

"Oh? But I'd consider you the finest treasure around."

He's quick to dodge the projectile bucket, laughing at your flustered expression.

You call him a term of endearment first

"Thoma, where should I put this stuff?" you ask, looking over at your boyfriend.

You and Thoma were both housekeepers for the Kamisato Clan, although he had far more responsibilities than you did. Eager to help and already done with your chores for the day, you offered your assistance to him, and he was happy to have the help.

"Put it in the closet down the hall! It's extra stationery for Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato," he answers, watching you carry the crate off.

He enjoys working with you as much as possible-- he has no problem taking care of his tasks on his own, but being able to have help, especially from his partner is always a bonus. You come back a few moments later, dusting off your hands.

"Sweetie, do you mind if I go and sit down? My back is killing me," you complain, placing your hands on your back to stretch. He waves you off, letting you take a breather as he presses on. Your words don't quite hit him until he's carrying another crate down the hall. Upon realization, he freezes and drops the crate on the ground, sending a thunderous noise down the halls. Nearby maids look over in surprise as the blonde stands there, dumbfounded and rosy-cheeked.

He calls you a term of endearment first

Having finished all of his tasks for the day, Thoma invited you to join him in feeding some of the nearby stray dogs. Happy to indulge in any spare time he had, you agreed to accompany him. It was one of your favorite past times to do with him. Watching the dogs slowly grow used to both of you was rewarding and it always left you feeling fulfilled and accomplished.

"Oh drat, we're out of some fowl," you complain, realizing your rummaging through your bag has turned unfruitful. Thoma looks over, frowning.

"I can run to the local market and get some?" he offers, but you shake your head, standing up.

"I'll go. I'll be fast," you promise, and you quickly take off to purchase the fowl. Thoma watches after you longingly before turning back to the dogs, showering them in affection.

"You all don't know how good Y/N really is," he begins, carefully ruffling one of the shiba's fur. "They're hard-working and kind, and they always offer to lend me a hand. On days that I don't see them, time seems to drag on forever."

Thoma sighs and sits back a bit, closing his eyes to take a break. The dogs all scramble to crawl in his lap and ask for his attention again, but he's starting to get lost in his thoughts.

"My sweetheart...my Y/N...I wonder if Lord Ayato has any ideas on how to propose," he ponders to himself, unaware of you hiding behind a tree. You had come back a while ago, but quickly hid when you heard Thoma talking about you. His nickname already had you fidgeting in embarrassment, but the idea of a proposal? You almost let out a squeal in excitement.

You call him a term of endearment first

It was a rare lazy day for both of you-- Tighnari had no patrolling duties and he was caught up on his research, meaning he could divert all his focus and energy on you.

Currently, you two were snuggled up on the couch enjoying the delicate notes playing from the record player ("It's this new technology from Fontaine!" you explained when you brought it home). His face was buried in your chest, ears pressed flat on his head while his tail resided in your hands, being carefully groomed by your fingers. The more you tangled his fur between your fingers, the louder his purring got.

"Tighnari, you're purring like a tiger," you tease, carefully slipping your hands down to cup his face and tilt it up so he can look at you. You squish his face, forcing it into a pout. He scowls at you, pulling his face away.

"What, am I not allowed to enjoy my partner's embrace? Should I be as stiff as a board?" he mumbles, burying his face in your chest.

"No no, it's cute I promise, love," you laugh, reaching back for his tail. You're unable to catch it as it starts wagging animatedly. You glance down at Tighnari, who willingly matches your gaze. There's a light of amusement shining in his eyes.

" 'Love?' " he inquires, and you smile down at him.

"Yes, is that a- wah!" you're cut off mid-sentence as Tighnari pushes himself up and straddles you, his clawed hands sliding up the side of your body.

"I want to hear it again, Y/N."

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Hey! Not so tight!" you whine, shooting a half-hearted glare at the forest ranger. He ignores your complaints, continuing the wrapping of your injuries.

"It needs to be tight to prevent unnecessary blood loss and make it harder for bacteria to enter the wound," he explains, carefully tying the bandage up. "I wouldn't be doing this though if some lummox didn't go into the withering zone without their weapon."

You cross your arms and look away from him in defiance, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. You forgot to check your bag before you both went out, meaning when you arrived to clear the area out, you were weaponless. And those fungi did not go easy on you. Near the end of it, you were carried back to Tighnari's house with bruises and scrapes all over you.

"I thought it was in my bag."

"You were sorely mistaken," he chides, then turns to pack up his medical supplies. He leaves you alone for a bit and when he returns, you're hugging your legs to your chest. Anyone with eyes can tell there's a gloomy air around you.

"I'm not mad at you," he carefully reminds you, stepping closer. "I was just worried. You can't go rushing into danger unprepared."

You don't reply, still refusing to look at him. Tighnari sighs and plops down in the seat next to you, wrapping his tail around your body. You instinctively scoot closer, leaning onto him.

"I care about you a lot, and if something drastic were to happen to you-" he doesn't finish his sentence, biting his lip. Silence falls over you two, the clock on the wall ticking away.

"You're very special to me flower," he whispers. You jolt at his words, glancing up at him with wide eyes. You try to stammer out a response, words getting twisted on your tongue. He takes your hand and squeezes it, silencing your attempts to talk.

"Promise me you'll be more careful."

Now is "lummox" or "flower" the true pet name? 🤭

@seirenspinel Per your request I added Diluc cause he's my bbgorl and I wanted it to be 5

I personally don't think Kaeya's would call you a snow-related nickname? Even though Cryo is his vision does this make me hypocritical? maybe.

Lmao at this point this is becoming a series. Oh well! Requests (sfw and nsfw) are open~!

[elodee]

HERMIT A DAY MAY - DAY 29

Hypnotizd x Gargoyles

For Hypno I chose the fantastic cartoon Gargoyles!

Hypno gives me cool 90s guy vibes and Gargoyles was my absolute favourite non-anime cartoon as a kid, so I had to include it! And, honestly, I just thought it'd be fun to draw Hypno as a gargoyle. I love the way he turned out.

To learn more about Gargoyles, one of the best cartoons ever, please continue below the cut!

@hermitadaymayrmit

(Congratulations on raising over $1000 for Gamers Outreach - lets keep going!)

The story of Gargoyles follows a group of warrior creatures called gargoyles who lived alongside and defended humans over 1000 years go. Despite acting as protectors, they were feared by humans and slaughtered in their sleep. The survivors of the massacre, a group of 5 men and their pet, were frozen in stone for eternity by a curse and doomed to never awaken again.

However, 1000 years in the future, an eccentric billionaire named Xanatos found a way to break the curse and brought the gargoyles back to life in modern Manhattan.

The story primarily follows the displaced gargoyles as they struggle to adjust to the shock of waking up in an unfamiliar future as the last members of their species.

While the show has plenty of action, as the gargoyles secretly protect the humans who live alongside them, the show is rather deep, often tackling nuanced issues like prejudice, mourning, and finding your identity in a culture that is not your own. Gargoyles also references a ton of mythology and literature and is arguably, in addition to the main plot with the gargoyles, an adaptation of multiple Shakespeare plays.

If you've never watched Gargoyles, I highly recommend it! It's one of the best serialized cartoons out there and I say that having also seen Avatar: the Last Airbender so you know I mean it.

Style references:

This is Goliath, the leader of the gargoyles and the a dual protagonist alongside his human love interest, Elisa Maza (who is one of my favourite female leads in anything ever). I would also like to add that Elisa is mixed race (Nigerian on her mother's side and indigenous, mostly Hopi, on her father's side) which was really unusual for a TV protagonist in the 90s. I just think that's cool, good job Gargoyles.

Goliath and Elisa - I just wanted to show you how cute they are with each other. Love is real and you can find it with this detective lady and her 1000 year old Scottish bat creature friend.

The Gargoyles title design.

[theartsynebulawhodoodles]

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ My Pinned Post! ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Salutations! You can call me Nebula, Doodle, or Eilidh. Any pronouns other than masc or it pronouns are fine with me! I am currently unlabeled right now as I am only certain about being a Demi-girl and asexual currently. Please keep in mind that I am a minor, I won’t state age but I will state that I am a teenager and older than 13.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

🩵I love UTMV, Undertale AU’s, Undertale, Folklore, Mythology, Goth Subculture (I am a baby bat), Art, Writing, Oddities, Vintage, etc!🩵

⭐️I make Sans AU art and sometimes write Sans AU oneshots!⭐️

🦇I do have a sona! You can find it by looking at the self ship or self sona tag on my blog! The newest sona is the current one🦇 I also want to mention that my signature is not any initials, and is instead the first letter of words that mean a lot to me!

DNI, Boundaries, and notes under keep reading!

DNI: Pro Shippers and supporters of it, homophobes, transphobes, Ableists, sexists, terfs, racists, bigots, maps, bullies, people who romanticize SA or abuse, loli/shota likers, zionists, zoos. I hope this list gives an idea of who I don’t want interacting with me, although I didn’t list every single one, I hope the list gives an idea of who I don’t want interacting with me. Also, please dni nsfw. Nothing against you if you aren’t on the dni, it’s just that I’m a minor.

I do not condone or support harassment.

🌕Everyone else is 100% okay to interact, especially Undertale au, UTMV, Undertale fans! All religions, races, sexualities, races, genders, etc are welcome! All that I ask is that you don’t make sexual comments towards me if you are an adult or anyone I don’t know personally.🌕

Please don’t use my art for AI. Anything else is fine as long as there is credits. No tracing either please!

Please don’t spam my ask box.I love getting asks and encourage it, but please don’t spam it!

Don’t sexualize (make nsfw, suggestive content) my oc, Cytherea, or my sona at all. Slightly suggestive stuff of Cytherea is fine, but not too much! Cytherea is asexual. And never involve my characters in any pro shipping material and do not ship them in pro ships. I find pro shipping disgusting.

I would never purposely interact with a problematic creator or a creator I cannot interact with (like a 18+) blog. Those are accidents. Please tell me if I am interacting with one so I can back away from it! I would highly appreciate it.

Some of my artwork or writing has heavier, angsty themes. They will be properly warned. I will never romanticize these themes.

💜I draw my sona and sans AU’S in platonic affectionate bonds or platonic friendships! I will tag these as self ship.💜

I struggle with communicating with others sometimes and have really bad anxiety. Please be understanding!

I am completely comfortable with heavy themes and slightly suggestive themes!

🩵Have a good day/night! This is a safe space for anyone not on the dni and UTMV fans 🩵 I will update this pinned post if I need to add something!

[Credits to Sister-Lucifer for the dividers]

[cobwebbedcat]

Slutweed 

MINORS DNI 

Warnings: top dom(ish) amab gn reader, sub bottom trans male Mammon, puppy play, piss!, weed/drug use, anal, daddy kink, light breeding kink, mams goes nonverbal for a hot sec 

Terms used for mammon: tits, chest, pussy, cunt, clit, reader talks about his womb 

"I have'ta pee."  

"Okay? Go then?" You're not sure what the big deal is, or why Mammon is sharing this information with you.  

If you were sober you’d catch the underlying attempt at an invitation that seeps through his tone, if you were sober you’d actually witness the way he batted his eyelashes at you while he said it. You’re not sober, but you’re not as far gone as he is. Just gone enough to be thoroughly entertained and entranced with Mammon’s hand. His brows furrow at your response.  

"Yeah okay,” he huffs, yanking his hand away from you and getting out of the bed. He hesitates, “s’not like I want you there, or anything, but if you wanna come,” he pauses for a definitive moment, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, “if you wanna come, you can.” Now that he’s better verbalized that he so obviously wants you to join him—despite his claims not to—you catch his drift. You’ll never give up the chance to watch him piss.  

"Cute," you hum, and hoist yourself out of the bed and take his hand in yours once again. The two of you walk to the bathroom connected to his room, and sooner than later he's standing in front of the toilet. He finally lets go of your hand in favor of shimmying out of his sweatpants. You watch, confusion slowly building as he kicks his pants fully off and stands in front of the toilet.  

"Aren't you going to sit?" You finally ask, and Mammon blinks before laughing. 

"Fuck. Forgot I don't have a dick," he explains. You bark out a laugh, and Mammon flushes, beginning to pout now that you’re laughing along with him. 

"I mean,” you recover your composure much quicker than you’d thought was possible for you right now, “there is a way for you to piss standing up.” 

Mammon squints at you, trying to figure out what you’re insinuating. You can practically hear him thinking; just when you’re about to tell him exactly what you mean, his eyes widen and he licks his lips.  

"Yeah," he breathes your name, "please, I wanna," and he doesn't even have to beg, but it sure does add to the warmth that’s been slowly growing in your loins ever since Mammon invited you to the bathroom with him.  

You lead a pantless, very excited Mammon back to his room, and take out the pee pad you have. Considering how things normally play out when he uses the pee pad, you pocket some lube for good measure.  

You set it up on the floor for him and Mammon's breathing quickens as he eagerly stands atop it.  

He worldlessly reaches out to hold your hand, and you let him take it.  

"Gonna pee here for me, little puppy?" You ask softly. Mammon whines at your words, again shifting from leg to leg, out of eagerness or a full bladder you can't tell.  

It only takes a moment and then he starts to relieve himself, completely wetting his inner thighs as a puddle forms beneath him. Mammon looks down, watching himself with glazed over eyes. Your cock twitches in your pants, your thoughts racing with imagining eating him out after this, or making him sit in his mess.  

Mammon eventually steps his legs open and reaches down with his free hand, spreading his pussy open so his stream flows uninterrupted onto the pad.  

Letting go of his hand, you step behind him, holding onto his hips and rubbing your cock against his ass as you watch over his shoulder. Mammon's legs shake a bit, and then he's grinding back against you as his stream dies down.  

“Want me to fuck you?” you ask softly, bringing your hands from his hips to his chest, squeezing his tits and rolling his slowly hardening nipples under your thumbs. 

“Yeah,” Mammon breathes, “in my ass.” 

"Seriously?" you ask, feeling your cock throb at his words. You know better to question him, it always makes him doubt himself.  

“No. Or I mean yeah, only if you wanna. Y’don’t have to,” he mumbles, “but if you wanted to, ‘m already clean.” You don't need to be told twice.  

“Shit puppy, I’ll fuck your ass.” 

Mammon practically falls to his hands and knees, at that. You know, at best, he’s actively turned on by the fact that he’s sitting in his own puddle of piss, at worst he is clearly unbothered by it. He raises his ass enticing—inviting you to touch him.  

You’re a bit clumsy with getting out of your pants, but who could blame you, with him looking so good in front of you. Settling between his legs, you keep the lube you’d grabbed earlier within reaching distance. You place your hands on Mammon’s ass and he whines, arching into your touch. Blood rushes to your cock; you feel lightheaded as you spread his cheeks and reveal his hole to you.  

“You-” you pause, letting a finger circle his hole. Cotton mouth is getting to you, and you audibly swallow before continuing. “You prepped yourself already?” 

“Lil’ bit, need more,” he hums softly, wiggling his hips. Despite feeling like your mouth is dry, you manage to gather a glob of saliva in your mouth and promptly spit it on his entrance.  

You won’t use your spit as lube, you do it just because it’s filthy, because you can, and because Mammon keens—high and long—when you rub your spit against and into his hole. You’re aching to be inside of him.  

“Fuck-- fuckin’ come on,” he begs, his voice cracking and straining with need. You spank him, quick and sharp; his back arches further as he melts into the pad.  

“Calm down pup” you chide, grabbing the lube nearby and coating your fingers in it. “Gonna have to muzzle you if you keep rushing me,” you think about that, gagging him with something, but you know you’ll want to hear whatever mindless babbles will fall from his lips once you start fucking him.  

Mammon doesn’t say anything, just moans when you ever-so-slowly sink your finger into his ass. It must be agonizing for him, to hold himself up on his hands and knees, to lay in his own piss, to be as wet as he is right now (thoroughly drenched), and to be opened up so carefully and slowly.  

You rub your finger against his insides, then press in another finger slowly. Mammon takes it like a champ, twitching and squeezing around your digits as he humps his hips back against your hand.  

“Greedy little thing,” you groan. Mammon giggles but it’s cut off when you curl your fingers.  

“Oh, ’m just,” he hiccups, “I need it daddy, I need ya, need your cock—shit!” He gasps when you take your free hand and spank his ass. His hole clenches like a vice around you. Your cock throbs.  

Your patience is running thin, but you make him wait just a bit longer, scissoring your fingers open, feeling him loosen up for you. 

“Gotta grab a condom,” you mutter, easing your fingers out of him ever so slowly. Mammon whines, but doesn’t protest more than that. He knows better.  

Standing on shaky legs, you stumble to the bedside table, grabbing a condom before making yourself comfortable once again behind him. u

Mammon’s busied himself by pressing his face into his mess, lazily licking at his piss, a hand between his legs slowly circling his fingers around his hard clit.  

You watch him for a moment, your cock leaking pre and twitching at the sight of him, while you try your best to open the condom with shaky, sticky fingers.  

Once you’ve got it on, you slick yourself with lube, and drape yourself over Mammon’s body.  

He pulls his head up, licking his lips, then mumbling something.  

“What was that, pup?” you ask, pressing the head of your cock against his hole. 

“Want ya—” he huffs, averting eye contact, “want ya t’mount me, daddy.” Involuntarily, your hips jerk forward, and your cockhead ruts against his hole.  

“God damn,” you hiss, taking yourself into your hand, “relax,” you say, unsure if it’s for yourself or Mammon to hear.   

Ever so slowly, you press yourself into him. He gasps and moans, shuddering from the intensity of the sensation and stretch.  

“Fuck, puppy,” you moan, feeling breathless and close already. “Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby. Feel so fucking good,” Mammon whines at your words, still playing with his clit. 

“Full,” you hear him mumble. You rock your hips, gently starting to fuck him into the pee pad. “Oh,” Mammon gasps.  

“Feelin’ good?” you ask, leaning over him to kiss his back tenderly.  

“Uh-uh huh,” you know him well enough to know he sounds close already. 

“Taking me so well,” you repeat yourself, because your brain is hazy with lust and weed and the beautiful man beneath you, and shit, he really does open up nicely for you. Still fucking his ass nice and slow, you bring one of your hands down to his pussy—bypassing his clit because Mammon’s fingers are preoccupied with it—and easily slip two fingers into his hole.  

“Fuck!” Mammon cries, trembling. 

“Feel me, baby?” you tease, rubbing your fingers against your own cock from within his insides. Mammon gushes and twitches violently around you.  

“Daddy--” he gurgles, trailing off and mumbling something incoherent. 

“It’s okay puppy, hah, you can cum if you want to.” Being the ever submissive demon that he is, it’s not until he’s granted permission that he does; crying out your name and coming completely undone under you. It takes everything in you to not fill the condom then and there. Instead, you ever so slowly fuck him through it, finding it difficult to move with just how tightly he clenches down on you.  

“God damn,” you groan again, easing yourself ever so slowly out of him once he slowly returns to himself. 

“Can I cum in your pussy, puppy?” you roll off the condom and toss it carelessly elsewhere.  

Mammon doesn’t respond with a verbal go ahead, but he raises his hips for you and whines pathetically, looking back at you with his red and dilated eyes giving you a pleading look.  

“Mhm, thank you pup,” you coo, pulling out your fingers and easing your cock raw into his cunt. Mammon groans, then lets out a pleased sigh. You know his masochistic self would have loved you to fuck his ass roughly, but you just can’t bring yourself to doing it just yet. Instead, you fuck his pussy hard and deep, selfishly chasing your orgasm.  

Mammon babbles under you, mostly unintelligible, but you pick up the stray moan of your name and “please.” You’re not any more composed, vocalizing every thought that enters your mind. 

“My puppy, hah, sweet thing, my—ah—my  sweet puppy, love you, feel so-oh good, puppy, gonna breed you pup, fuck,” he’s so hot and tight around you, the weed makes it hard to focus on what feels best, “gotta fill your womb with my cum, hah, you’ll take it all won’t you puppy?” He nods his head, which surprises you, because you can barely follow your own train of thought. “Fuck, that’s right, shit, gonna cum,” you warn. You feel dizzy, hot, and rabid, the sound of your hips slapping against Mammon’s skin echoes throughout the room as you pound him into the floor.  

“Mammon,” you gasp softly as you find your peak, burying your cock deep inside him and pumping your cum into him. He can’t speak at all now, just whines and keens softly, his overstimulated pussy spasming around your dick.  

You keep yourself lodged in him for a good minute, until you’re soft and your body aches. 

Mammon is thoroughly fucked and still stoned, so as soon as you’re not there to hold him up he slumps into the mess that’s been soaking into the pee pad.  

“C’mon baby, up we go,” you mumble softly, taking him into your arms. He lazily drapes his arms around you, sighing contently, and nuzzling into your touch.  

“Bath?”  

Mammon nods at the suggestion, so you rise to your feet and shakily make your way to the bathroom. You’ll deal with the mess later.  

“Hungry?” you check, setting him down in the tub as you fill it with water. Mammon shakes his head no. “You hurting at all?” He rolls his eyes at that. You pinch his thigh, “shut up, I know you’re the all powerful and great demon Mammon, but I get to ask anyways,” you pout. He smiles, his fangs poking against his teeth, before he pulls you in for a kiss.  

When you pull away his stomach growls. “Liar,” you tease, kissing him again quickly before rising to your feet. 

“No, no,” he gasps, holding onto you, “s’fine, don’t leave t’feed me.” You coo, entering the tub with him and rewarding your greedy man by smothering him with kisses and cuddles. You want to kick yourself for even imagining leaving him in this state. 

“Of course sweetheart, we’ll keep this short, then get something to eat, how’s that sound?” he nods at that, letting you wrap yourself around him.  

“I wanna eat, and I wanna watch a movie, and maybe fuck again,” he huffs, leaving no room for negotiation.  

“Yeah,” you laugh, kissing his skin, hoping to convey your endless love through such a mundane action, “yeah, we can do that puppy.”  

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Heyyyy I saw your requests are open. Can you do a cute fic or blurb whatever you prefer I don’t really know the difference 🥺. But can it be about Eddie having a corruption kink and he like the reader bc she looks innocent. But what he doesn’t know is that when he bends her over and spanks her , she enjoys it. You can add or take away stuff all up to you and if you are in the mood for it 💕 I love your work so much and would like to see something like this

-🌶️

So I got carried away and this ended up being a dom reader...how I have no idea! But I hope you enjoy it still and if you want I can totally write a more dom/rough Eddie! Just lmk!

Eddie always went after girls who seemed so different from him, girls who seemed so....innocent. At first, no one batted an eye but now they stop and stare when they see such a contrast between Eddie and his newest girlfriend.

You were a sweetie. You got excellent grades in school, were in after-school clubs, and were the perfect daughter. But there was something Eddie didn't know...well something that no one really knew. You don't have much control over your life, at least not as much as you would like. So when it comes to being in the bedroom you loved having the control and honestly, sometimes you got a bit intense.

Eddie knew none of this. You two were still kind of a new couple so there hadn't been much sexual things happening between the two of you but Eddie was dying to change that. In his head, you would be the perfect little sub for him and he just wanted to make sure you felt as good as he could make you feel. It was your Friday night date when he decided to make a move, and thank god he did because you needed him to finally try to make a move or you might have exploded.

The two of you were over at your house watching a movie when he leaned in and started leaving kisses along your neck. You slowly move your head back giving him more access when you feel his hand glaze across your inner thing. You bite back a moan as you realize what was going to happen soon. Instead of letting him take control you move to be straddling his waist making him smirk into your neck. "Fuck kitten what's gotten into you?" He asks as he starts to leave marks along your soft skin.

"Fuck need you Eddie please" You pleaded making his heart race, hearing you beg makes him believe that he was right about you being his perfect sub. He pulls you into his lap even more so and starts kissing more forcefully. You could feel him throb against your core and some sort of switch inside of you flips and you just needed to take control. You whimper against his lip and pulls away "Can we get undressed?" You ask meekly making Eddie smirk and nod "Of course princess" You smile as you work his tight jeans off of him. You strip slowly teasingly and nearly moan at the whines that leave Eddie.

You move back to sit in his lap and you rest on his knees before wrapping your hand around his cock, you could feel him throbbing in your hand. You brought your other hand down and began to fondle his balls a bit which caused his body to jolt beneath you and he inhaled sharply. You leaned down toward him as your hand continued to stroke him and your other continued to squeeze and fondle his balls and you kissed up to his right ear. "I'm gonna make you cum until there's nothing left in these balls. That's what you want isn't it baby?" you whispered to him. His eyes nearly rolled back at the sound of those words. "Fuck.. Yes, please..." he groaned. You continue working his cock slowly picking up the pace as his eyes close tightly and moans flow from his lips. "Baby baby baby I-I Fuuuckk" He groans and can't help but babble as he cums all over your hand. You kiss his neck softly and continue to jerk his cock until he is squirming more than before "Baby too much"

"Do you want to stop or do you want me to ride your cock?" You ask as you continue kissing his skin. He withers under you before nodding "Please fucking me" He begs softly, nearly embarrassed at how submission he feels. You guide his cock to your entrance and moan softly feeling him inch deeper and deeper into you.

As you stared down at him you nearly moan louder seeing how blissed out he looks. “That’s it, baby.” you praised, making him open his eyes to watch you closely. He watched you moaning when he sees how wet his cock was each time it slipped in and out of you and without warning you began to slam yourself down onto him, bouncing on his cock and tilting your head back as you let out louder moans and he whimpered softly already being so sensitive that the feeling of his cock slamming against your cervix was driving him wild.

He can feel you getting closer. You're getting tighter...wetter, god he was going to explode if you kept going. "B-baby please" he moans brokenly as he watches your hand travel down to your clit, your walls tightens around him ---practically suffocating him as you cry out his name and cum around his cock.

You lean down and bite at his ear before whispering him to cum deep in you "Fill my pussy baby give me all that you have."

His eyes roll back and he swears he blacked out as he came and when he comes back to you cleaning him up and already in his band shirt. You untie him and coo "Did such a good job baby, filled me so well" You kissed him softly, he groans hearing your words. "Wasn't too much was I?" He shook his head instantly "No no god baby it was amazing just I um I didn't expect it" He smiles up at you and pulls you close to him to snuggle into you.

Now it was your turn to blush making him laugh. How could she go from making me cum more than ever to blushing innocently again, he might never know.

[galaxicalsart]

boy I do love overcomplicating my little ponies

These are traits associated with the main races of ponies in Equestria (including bat ponies because I wanted to). Not every pony of any race will have all of these traits (especially unicorns, which have so freaking many traits to their name as is), though some are more common than others. The only really distinguishing traits are whether they have a horn, wings, or neither (or both).

(Well okay, I mostly imagine variation among unicorns, though as the races blend together over time there’s more overlap. Bat pony traits in particular are a bit more strict since they tend to isolate from most of pony society.)

aw damn I forgot to add that beards are also a unicorn trait that was more common in the past, kinda like the variation of the long tail

(Please don’t repost, but do reblog!)

[runariya]

Drive to Survive (JJK POV) • Chapter 3

pairing: F1driver!Jungkook x female race engineer!reader genre: colleagues2L, formula1!AU, racing!AU, drama, kind of fantasy/cyborg!AU fic rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, Jungkook is whipped, Jungkook is naive, Trish is a B as always, jealous Jungkook, sweaty Jungkook, yearning, heavy drinking, blacking out because of heavy drinking, Jungkook is the sweetest, confessions, word count: ~4.950

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to the sport of Formula 1 are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

a/n 2: Please make sure to read the chapter in OC's POV before JK’s POV to have the best reading experience!

series masterlist

So, last night I had an epiphany. The ultimate, non-plus-ultra master plan for winning you over seemed to descend from the high heavens right into my genius brain just as I was about to fall asleep.

But.

I wouldn’t be the genius I am if I didn’t write it down immediately.

So, as I walk down the corridor on your floor, half an hour before our debrief, I keep reading the tiny post-it note over and over again, unable to resist internally applauding myself.

Step 1: Win ___ over 

Step 2: Tell ___ you love her 

Step 3: Kiss ___

Step 4: Marry ___ and make a lot of babies 

Truly and absolutely foolproof. 

Out of nowhere, Trish appears before me, and I quickly crumble the little note and tuck it away. Her shrill voice scratches at my eardrums as she greets me, “Hey!” 

“Trish, ‘sup.” I stuff my hands into my pockets, making sure not to lose the precious note.  

“Would you like to drink some coffee with me?” she asks, batting her fake eyelashes at me. I can’t seem to understand why women do that. They don’t even look natural at all. Ew. 

Just before I decline her offer, she adds, “I really would love to talk to you about Yoongi. I had a crush on him forever, and I know you know him more than I do.”  

Oh hell yes, I love playing Cupid! “Sure.”  

And that’s how I find myself at the kitchenette, not far from your office, imitating Yoongi’s attempt at flirting during the last Christmas party when he was drunk. I’m making my best impression, complete with exaggerated winks and slurred speech when you walk into the kitchen.  

The moment I see you, I’m struck silent by your presence. You look like an angel, beautiful and confident in your grace. But there’s a flicker of annoyance in your eyes, and I stand up straight, swallowing dryly. This is not good. That’s horrible.  

Cold sweat breaks out on my hands, neck, and temples as you greet us with a friendly and professional “Good morning.” Your distance stings to no limits.  

I move to the side to let you pass to the coffee machine, but as I glance briefly at Trish, her face thundering with a hostility I’ve never seen before, it dawns on me quickly—this stupid fucking snake just played me. I shake my head almost imperceptibly and scoff silently. How stupid could you be, Jungkook? You let yourself—and your plan—be sabotaged by another woman… no, SNAKE! Before it even started.  

Your cold voice snaps my eyes back to you, and there’s no trace of the prior annoyance visible. “We’ve been scheduled for the debrief half an hour ago. I’m free for the next twenty minutes until my next appointment. You know where to find me until then.”  

Wait, I’ve been late?! I didn’t know! And what’s in twenty minutes? “What’s in twenty minutes?”  

“I’m meeting with Joongki to optimise…” The rest of your sentence becomes white noise. Why did you schedule us back-to-back with me only having an hour with you? That’s not fair! You’re surely going to spend much more time with him!  

It all plays out rather quickly as you grab your coffee and leave me with Trish behind. I don’t miss how you still act friendly towards Trish, even though she’s a snake. As you round the corner, it hits me that I need to move, so I start walking with fast and heavy steps behind you. “Bye!” I wave half-heartedly over my shoulder to Trish, not bothering with her any longer.  

When we’re in your office, sitting facing each other, I can’t seem to care about the qualifying or the problem with the KERS. My professional self on autopilot while my true and only focus is on gauging if you’re as pissed as I am with Trish. If so, then why aren’t you showing it? Or are you angry with me because I yelled at you? Yes! I need to apologise regardless.  

“About the qualifying... I, uh, wanted to apologise. For my behaviour. I shouldn't have yelled at you or accused you of nepotism.”  

You wave a hand dismissively. “It's okay. It’s understandable to react emotionally, especially under the pressures of qualifying. We all have moments like that.”  

Thank God you’re not mad. Wait, did you just passively insult me? You never lost control over your emotions, so why did you say ‘we all’? You must still be mad at me. Is it because you’re interested in Joongki? Why aren’t you interested in me?! And why the fuck did you insult me if you’re not interested in me?  

Oh, your smile is so beautiful. “Apology accepted. Let's focus on moving forward and making sure we don't encounter similar issues again.”  

Apologise - check! 

Okay, so now to the real issue at hand. Joongki. My nemesis. Okay no, he’s cool. And married. But STILL. You’re surely not meeting him alone. There are multiple people involved with my car, bazillion engineers. 

"Wait, are you meeting Joongki alone?"

"Yes, I am. We need to go over some technical details. Why do you ask?"

Oh no, you’re raising your eyebrow. Oh no, you're suspicious. Play cool. Play cool. Play cool. How do I do that? Yes, just shrug. That’ll do. 

“Just curious. Is he... your type?"

Yeah, no. That's far from cool, Jungkook. Well done, idiot. 

My eyes can't help to briefly fall to your chest where you're folding your arms. But as quickly as they fall, I force them back up, knowing better than to dig my grave deeper than it is.  

"I'm here as a professional, Jungkook. If I were to have affairs left and right, I wouldn't have made it this far in my career. I think we both know that professionalism is key in this environment." 

Your eyes flicker with a hint of challenge I can't miss. How dare you insult me! Unfounded at that! I need to clear the air before you think I'm basically a hypothetical cheating idiot, but again, you beat me to it. Why can't you let me talk, woman? 

"Look, the point is, we're here to work. And I expect everyone, including myself, to act accordingly." You glance at your watch and I fear our time’s up. "I have to go. Joongki and I have a lot to cover."

Nooooo. Stay! Nooooo. Fucking Joongki! You gather your notes and stand, ready to leave, and I can't do shit about it. 

"Fine," I mutter, reluctantly standing up as well. "We'll talk later." 

You nod once, professional and composed. And I hate it! "Absolutely. Let's ensure we’re both getting ready for Singapore."

With that, you leave the office, your heels clicking against the floor, something I sure want to hear for the rest of my career. I can't help but watch you walk down the corridor while my thoughts run wild with everything that went wrong in the last hour. Unfolding the note with my precious master plan, I know I need to make sure to win you over, and the first step is to make sure Trish stays in her fucking lane. 

Last week was a success, if I do say so myself. You and I got closer. You've been laughing and giggling more and more at all the jokes and flirting I've been doing.  

It truly was a wonderful week, and working with you is something I never want to miss out on. You're competent beyond words, and I admire how hardworking and dedicated you are. You'd make a great mother, too. I'm sure you would be, and so much more.  

It's hard for me to keep away from you, especially during those boring meetings we have to attend every day. I get that it’s all new for you and you want to pay attention, but can't you spare a little bit of it for me? For now, I'm happy you let me bump my knee softly into yours. That's enough for me, really. As are the light brushes of your fingers against mine whenever you hand me your tablet with the data you want to discuss after the simulations or meetings.  

I'm positive that step 1 will be checked off soon. I can just feel it. I sent Trish Yoongi’s number, so I think she got the message. Since the kitchen incident, she hasn’t overstepped any of my boundaries during our training sessions. I’m sure she knows it was her first strike.  

Like now, as she lets me do another set of reps even though my biceps are killing me. What definitely crosses the line, though, is when she abruptly steps closer and leans in. I frown up at her through the mirror, but she keeps staring angrily at the gym entrance. When I follow her gaze, I see you standing there in all your beauty, and I have to remember to keep breathing evenly. You’re clearly searching for someone, and when your eyes land on me, not realising I can see you in the mirror, I feel like I’ve won the lottery.

Your cute little mouth falls open, and I see your precious eyes widen even from this distance as you gulp. Hell yes, that’s the reaction I want from you. I’m euphoric that there’s finally some proof you think I’m your type after all. Wooooooop!

Let me just grunt a little louder…

And yep, you finally catch my eyes through the mirror. Gotcha! Because you’re such a cute, flustered mess, I want to make it just a little worse by winking at you. I could keep going with the reps for days if it means you’re watching me like this.

As you walk toward us, I lower the dumbbells and grab my towel to dab around my face. It’s enough movement to make Trish step back.

“Toto has scheduled an extraordinary meeting regarding a rival driver in half an hour. He sent me to inform you,” you say, keeping your voice steady and authoritative as if I didn’t catch you drooling over me a second ago.

I’m not letting you off the hook so easily this time. “Caught you staring, huh? Enjoy the view?”

“I’m here to deliver a message, not to ogle.” But you sure did, babe. “Make sure you’re there on time.”

You don’t even give me time to respond before you turn and walk out of the gym.

“If you keep acting like that around my colleagues, you’re fired,” I state matter-of-factly, not even looking in Trish’s direction. Strike number 2, snake.

I’m sure you care. You have to after what you said to me during the emergency meeting. Step 1 isn’t completed yet, I know that. It was more than obvious when you stormed out of the meeting room before I could tell you how much I appreciate you being by my side and believing in me. But that’s okay because good things take time.

So why does it feel like Step 1 isn’t even on the paper during Saturday’s qualifying when you’re so friendly with Tae? It’s like the euphoric echo of my thoughts that you care is now mocking me.

Why is he so thrilled to see you? And you even hugged him! You never hug me, and we’re colleagues. Okay, that sounds wrong, but where do you know him from? I have to know. 

“Where do you two know each other from?”

Taehyung chuckles lightly before responding, “Miss Genius and I shared some classes, and she used to come by the racing club one time when I needed help.” His playful nudge at your shoulder elicits a laugh from you, and I think I might cry.

This really can’t be happening now. If you’re into him, then I stand no chance. Did he just say racing club? I was a driver there! I would have known if you were there! I would have never missed that!

“I don’t remember you being at the club.”

“Ah, that must have been around the time you were out with that illness.”

You. Little. Shit. 

He knows I’ve had a crush on you forever! He knew! And still, he didn’t tell me! I would have come regardless of whether I was sick or not. I would have come even if I was lying on my deathbed. He did it on purpose.

He’s trying to steer the conversation away from his clear betrayal. Oh hell no, we’re not doing this.

That girl is mine, thank you very much.

As I take your arm and guide you away from this…this…jerk, I realise that you were talking about your role. It would have been nice to hear that. I love when you talk about yourself. Oh god, I’ve dug my grave even deeper nby overreacting like a psycho. I need to apologise right away before you think I’m mad at you. Make it clear that it’s because of Tae and myself.

Just as I’m about to open my mouth, Toto strides briskly past, his voice cutting through the bustling paddock, “Get ready for qualifying, everyone!”

Shit. “Shit.”

I’ll talk to you later, after the race. Buy you flowers and apologise. 

But the race is all wrong, Mingyu distracts me and you’re gone from the paddock before I have a chance to talk to you again. 

So, Plan B, it is. Redeem myself by going out with you and at the same time learn what’s up with Mingyu. Again, another master plan. 

Oh, how our kids will be beautiful and intelligent. 

I've dressed nicely, and I feel good, so why am I this nervous? I've been pacing the hallway before your hotel room for ten minutes by now. Again and again a fraction of a second away from knocking before chickening out and walking away. 

It's the third time I've done this by now. I stop some distance away with a sigh, running a frustrated hand through my hair while my heart’s racing uncontrollably. 

What if you say no? What if Tae is there? No, he wouldn't be, right? 

Mustering all my courage, I walk with fast steps towards your door, giving myself no time to rethink it again, and finally knock. 

When you open, my heart melts to the floor into a puddle bigger than any sea in the world. 

You're the cutest woman in PJs and a face mask I have ever seen. Like literally the most beautiful woman, even when lounging. It’s unfair to be this intelligent and cute, leaving everyone else in your shadows.   You, as this little swamp monster, still hold my heart in your palms without knowing. 

“What do you want?” Your voice snaps me out of my daydream. 

“We’re going out.”

“I’ve got work to do,” you clearly bullshit me with this. 

“Work is over for tonight,” I step past you, and it's remarkable how small you are. So tiny in comparison with me. I know you were always shorter than me, even back then when you still didn't wear heels. But I've grown since then, and I thought you did too. “Were you always this small?”

“I’m not that small.”

YOU POUT! My heart sings like a musical aria of an opera. I just need to convince you to come with me. 

“Mingyu is hosting a party tonight. We’re going to attend it, and you’re going to get close to him and figure him out. The ultimate masterplan.”

You stare at me incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

Hey, that's not nice…why aren't you as nice to me as you are to others? 

“I’m not going. Why isn’t Trish doing this?”

Huh? Trish? There is no way I would ask her for anything related to my private life. “Why would she? And of course you’re going with me.”

You groan, looking at the cream-coloured ceiling, massaging your neck. “Jungkook, please. I don’t even have any clothes for a night out.”

“That’s an excuse. You’re coming. Now, let’s see what you have in your closet.”

If you're not getting ready yourself, perhaps you need a little push from me. Your closet is full of clothes even though we're only staying in Singapore for a handful of days. All dresses, in various colours, but black seems to overpower it all. The fabrics feel so nice in my palms, and I wonder why men’s clothing can't be as smooth. 

“Stop! Hey! Hands off my clothes! Jungkook!”

I stop so I can look at your face. You’re clearly stressed with your new role. I’m sure it’ll be good for you if you would just spend one night out. Laughing and relaxing a little bit. Perhaps if I bring you to laugh with something stupid, it’ll help convince you more. “You’re not going to go out like this. What’s that you have on your face?”

“It’s a face mask,” you say, exasperated. 

Let’s just touch it and make a scene, hm? Perhaps you're losing up then. “Ew, I got it on my finger. Make it go away! Oh my god, make it go away!”

You grab a tissue from the sideboard nearby and halt my hand. Your touch causes this fuzzy feeling in my stomach, which I can't get enough of and you're so close, your scent engulfs me in an instant. 

“You’re unbelievable. Unbelievable and insufferable,” you mutter under your breath, carefully wiping the mask off.

Yes. Yes, I’m unbelievably insufferable in love with you, babe. 

When you look up, locking your vibrant, sparkling eyes with mine, I can't help but let my thoughts run wild. The future I desire with you by my side, how the plan works, how I get to take care of you, say I love you whenever I want, just having you by my side. It suffocates and equally revives me. You're so close, just a breath away. And I wish I could kiss you stupid, shower you in the love and admiration you deserve. Your smooth skin peeking out of the mask, your pretty moist lips, your thick eyelashes. You're an angel sent to Earth to show us mortals what a fraction of divinity is. 

But you abruptly pull away when something behind us makes a noise. Whatever it was is now at the top of my nemesis list, but when you subtly shake your head, it’s like a knife to my heart, so I turn around and continue my search for a fitting dress for you. 

Pretending as if the times you pulled away from me didn't hurt me. 

When you disappear behind the door of the ensuite to get ready, I sit down on the side of your bed that didn't fall victim to all the work you did before I took you by surprise with my visit. 

A packet of Haribo gummy bears immediately catches my eye, and I pick it up, turning it from one side to the other. There’s only so much of the red ones left, my favourites, and I pick each one out. 

You probably like the red ones the most, too, as there’s not much left of them. So I put them back, picking out the white ones everyone hates and start eventually snacking on them. 

With my elbow, I push your laptop to the side and let my head fall onto your plush pillow, feet dangling over the edge of the bed’s side. Your scent encases me from all sides, overwhelming my senses. I've never met someone who smells as divine as you do, and I can't help but wonder how you do it. I roll onto my stomach, cheek now resting squished against the pillow so I can snack on the gummy bears and enjoy your scent to the fullest. 

I don't know how much time passes, as I'm too caught up in fantasies with you as the main character, but when you emerge from the bathroom, I know that reality can be so much more beautiful than any fantasy I could come up with. 

As we arrive at the party, we head straight for the bar to grab some drinks and scope out the place. We chat about ourselves, our childhoods, likes and dislikes, and I’m over the moon that you’re letting me in. You trust me enough to share the little and big things that make you who you are.

Your smile and laugh are the prettiest I’ve ever seen, and I feel blessed to be the recipient.

“No way you never went to parties!” You laugh right in my face. The joy that radiates from you is a sight I’d fight to keep on your face.

“I was never a party person. What’s the point anyway?”

“Jungkook, you really can’t tell me you’re not the type to go partying every chance you get.”

Ouch. Why don’t you believe me? Is my reputation that bad?

“But I’m telling you the truth! Look around!” I gesture to the people around us—the women in dresses so tiny and tight you could practically see their organs, the men more shallow than a baking sheet. “Why would I want to surround myself with these people?”

You frown up at me, taking another sip through your straw as you glance at the crowd. “Yeah… I know what you mean. But…” Your stunning eyes lock with mine again. “I never thought you wouldn’t like that.”

Ouch again. I sigh, not knowing how else to show you who I really am except by being honest.

“Now you know I’d rather spend the night somewhere else than be surrounded by people I can’t stand.”

My laugh makes your lips twitch around the straw, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you challenge me, “So you don’t like me?”

As if.

“Au contraire.”

The blush that creeps up your cheeks is phenomenal, causing my lips to stretch into the biggest smile possible—one that hurts my cheeks, but I couldn’t care less.

“Shall we start your ‘master plan’?” You turn your gaze over your shoulder, looking at Mingyu, who’s just sat down on a couch at the other end of the terrace. When you look back at me, there’s uneasiness in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, let’s just get it over with, hm?” You turn, taking a step toward Mingyu, but I stop you by holding your arm.

When our eyes meet, there’s clear fear in your irises, and I know I can’t let you go like this.

“___, talk to me. You don’t have to do this. We can leave right now if you want.”

The sigh that escapes you weighs a ton. You again come closer, causing me to let you go, but you refuse to look at me when you ask, your voice small and unsure, “What if it doesn’t work, Jungkook? What if he turns me away or something?”

You can’t be serious. You can’t be insecure when you look like this.

“Hey, listen. First, he’ll never turn you away. No one here would turn you away. And second, if it doesn’t work, that’s fine. Don’t pressure yourself with expectations no one’s set for you.”

You don’t seem convinced, so I gently guide your face with my fingers to look at me. “I’m right here. I’ll be watching over you. If anything goes wrong or I sense you’re not comfortable in the slightest, I’ll get you out of it. We can go now if you like. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”

I can’t breathe; the smile appearing on your alluring lips sucker-punches my guts.

“Thank you,” you husk, and I wish we were alone. “Here goes nothing.”

And then you’re walking toward him. The sight tears me apart from the inside out, and I know that I never want to see you walk away from me, away to another man.

Half an hour later, I’m ready to burn this place to the ground. 

Not because women approach me. No, I just rejected them without much of a thought. 

“I’m taken.” 

“Off the market.” 

“Not interested.”

And watching you flirt with MiNgYu~ is bad enough, but seeing you touch him, practically sitting on his lap, and him touching you back is unbearable. 

I’ve seen enough. 

Not caring if I cut off anyone in my path, I march toward you. I should have stopped this a long time ago, before you got this drunk. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take her. Now.” BACK OFF, MOTHERFUCKER. 

I help you up immediately, and I would lie if I said it doesn’t surprise me how you're clinging to me. I like it, though. 

As we head to the elevators, you suddenly start giggling. But your next words nearly make me stumble over my own feet.

“Jungkook, you’re so hot. Did you know that?”

Oh God, she thinks I’m hot! I can check off the first step! I try with all my might not to grin like a lovesick idiot, and I think you don’t notice how much your words affect me.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re like really, really, super hot. And so funny.”

My heart stops. It halts and ceases and just quits. Your words are a fucking jackpot. 

I’m unprepared when you suddenly stop and look up at me with the most serious expression a drunk woman has ever given me. Though the hiccup betrays you and I want to laugh, there’s no time when you fall to your knees amid the crowd, saying, “Let me feel your thigh.”

What the fuck woman?! Get up! Shit! I need to pull you up immediately.

“This is not the time for that.”

“No, you don’t understand. Jungkook, let me feel—”

“NOT THE TIME, ___!”

Enough is enough. I hook my arm under yours and pull you to the elevator, and while we descend to the ground floor, you giggle non-stop.

We don’t get too far after we start walking toward the hotel, and I know you’ll never make it back there drunk in your heels.

With one swift movement, I pick you up on my back, causing you to let out a cute little scream. “Hold on tight.” I pat your thigh through your dress, and you oblige right away, wrapping your legs around my waist and hugging my neck.

It’s after the first turn when you let your head fall onto my shoulder, your lips and breath brushing against my skin. You inhale deeply, making me shiver. 

“You smell so good,” you say dreamily. 

Take that MiNgYu~

“Thank you,” I manage to say, trying to even out my breathing and heartbeat. 

“Is there any flaw in you? Like, you’re super talented and tall and big with all these muscles, and your face is like sculpted by God himself. And now you smell soooo good.” 

I’m burning up inside. I feel the blush on my cheeks, and I think I might faint. This can’t be real. I must be dreaming. There’s no way.

“Oh, and you’re kind, and I feel safe with you.” 

“Well, I—”

“But I don’t like that you’re with Trish and now carry me.”

What?...like for real now. What?!

“I’m not with her. Why would I be? I really don’t know where…”

But there’s no need to explain myself further; you’re asleep by the time we reach your room. I sigh, shaking my head, wondering why you’d think I’d be into her when I only have eyes for you.

I carefully steady you against the wall as I search your bag for your room card. After I gently lay you on the bed, I head to your en-suite to search for makeup wipes.

When I come back, you’re still in a deep slumber, so I take off your shoes and wipe your feet down quickly, tugging you in. Sitting down beside you, I can’t help but trace your features. Taking another wipe out of the package, I carefully try to remove the makeup from your face, avoiding your eyes entirely. I’m too scared I might hurt you by accident.

As I finish, I fold the used wipe to throw it away, but it’s nearly clean, with just a little pink on it. Weird…

I take another one and wipe with a little more force than before. But again, it’s void of makeup.

Frowning at the wipe, I think there must be something wrong. Or did I do something wrong? It can’t be this difficult to do. My gaze switches between your face and the wipe in my hand until I notice there’s still some lipstick on your lips. This time there’s again a faint pink on the wipe.

Huh…interesting. I lean in, inches away from your face. Your skin is, in fact, clean, and it fascinates me how it’s this flawless. When your breath, tinged with alcohol, hits me, I regret not taking better care of you and hope you’re not mad at me when you wake up.

You look so peaceful, and I wish I could watch you the whole night as you sleep, never wanting this night to end.

“I’m really in love with you, ___. I’ve been for years.” It’s so lame to confess to you while you’re unconscious, and I rub my hands over my face, not knowing what to do with myself. Everything seems to go wrong. “If you don’t want me, it’s fine. But if there’s the tiniest chance for us…then let me show you that it’ll be worth it.”

With that, I stand up, making sure you’re neatly tucked in.

“Good night, princess.” 

It’s not much later, when I fall asleep with the post-it note in my hand.

series masterlist • JK 3

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! what was your favourite part of this chapter?

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @jksusawife, @alessioayla, @darkeneddiary , @dumbheadblog

[withered--s0uls]

I'm working on "Blood & Bats" and that includes surnames and characters races and Ethnical backgrounds.

Send me your Race & Ethnicity hcs as well as surname ideas for the MD characters please? (This includes side characters like Uzis class & Ron!! Please send those!!!)

Disclaimer: the story doesn't take place on earth. The generation of the parents & grandparents are moved to Copper-9 due to overpopulation. In this AU C-9 never had an exploded core and is still inhabited by organic life. This is for their families backgrounds from when they moved from earth & to add some details like cultural foods in the narrative

So far in the AU I settled on the following;

Doorman Family:

Uzi - Blasian (see parents for specifics, you can't talk me out of making her Blasian bc I love that common hc)

Nori - Filipino, Japanese

Khan - Black or Blasian, undecided (The name Khan is a Turko-Mongol surname [apparently not commonly used as first name], so I might have Turkish and/or Mongolian in there. But it's also commonly found in India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Bangladesh, and Iran. So I'm unsure what to go for)

Dolls Family stays Russian, needs a Surname

Elliott family:

Tessa, James & Louisa stay Australian

N & Cyn - British

V - Dutch

J - mixed, undecided

Teacher-Family (need Surname):

Thad - Filipino (Teachers Step Son)

Ron - Filipino (Thads maternal uncle)

Lizzy - either fully Filipino or mixed (Thad's half sister)

Teacher - either Filipino or smth else

???, deceased (Thad & Lizzys mom) - Filipino

Need help for pretty much anyone else and anything I listed needing help with here.

[batsplat]

well bat you can’t just drop that you’re a signed up expert on the 2006 250 cc szn and not share WHY (unless you already have ofc…..I’m so sorry tumblr search is so ass) please divulge!! I see bb Jorge domination from the wiki 👀 also Aleix…Dovi…and Chaz Davies entered under like 5 different teams omfg what was going on w Casey’s bestie that year

JORGE DOVI TITLE FIGHT JORGE DOVI TITLE FIGHT omg, I'm like the #1 scholar of 2006-07 250cc era (admittedly another one of those fields where I'm not exactly getting a lot of competition on this website, guys please they're so funny). my short thesis for their 250cc vibe is here, where I described it as the huis clos of teenage motorcycle racing. which!! it is

also jorge categorically did NOT dominate that season, he scored only 17 more points than dovi!! but the thing is that jorge wins WAY more races than dovi does (the races dovi win are pretty cool, mind) - it's as close as it is because jorge is a bit less consistent and also tends to stink up the place in the wet. and then 2007 is a way more dominant season... still, broadly everyone's very impressed with dovi because the consensus is that dovi's honda is way way inferior to jorge's aprilia. see from the 2008 season preview (x):

MotoGP has received a welcome injection of young blood this year, and all of the rookies have been fast. The first question we hoped to see answered is the duel between Jorge Lorenzo and Andrea Dovizioso. Last year, Dovi managed to make Lorenzo's life very difficult, despite being on vastly inferior machinery. This year, the Italian is only on slightly inferior equipment, and will be hungry for revenge. Lorenzo, for his part, will want to make his mark on the series, and get a good finish to establish his place in the hierarchy, which he feels is really at the very pinnacle.

(this is also what sets up dovi being late noughties motogp forums' darling, like I cannot emphasise enough how much they LOVED that guy in 2008. plucky underdog syndrome)

it's a big dovi story point that him sticking with honda during 250cc is like,, a real act of loyalty. and initially it gets paid off when he gets the repsol honda ride in 2009, and then it gets rather less paid off when it all becomes a bit ugly in 2010-11 (more on that here). so it's not even that dovi's defeats during 250cc reflect BADLY on him.... but. but!! the joy of it is that these two SO clearly do not fuck with each other that the vibes are just consistently DREADFUL. in really fun ways!! you've obviously always got these great podium photos where one guy aggressively does not want to be there

generational vibes mismatch

it's also just so AWKWARD because dovi just doesn't really care to engage with jorge AT ALL and jorge is playing out all these sports movie narratives in his head where dovi is like,, his great teenage rival who he learns so much from fighting before joining the big leagues. dovi is not interested in being jorge's great teenage rival. and jorge is just so dramatically undersocialised that his attempts to sidle up to dovi and engage with him are consistently very funny to watch. cf something like sepang 2006... jorge is always trying so so hard. not always clear WHAT he's trying but he sure is trying

and 2007 adds another great twist with this, where jorge shows up with increasingly zany celebrations. so dovi's not only being beaten but he's also having to watch his title rival like,, show up in full gladiator kit. which is just. not dovi's vibe. regular reminder that jorge had a dovi mask made but unfortunately never used it:

as far as WE know, he still has that thing. anyway please just take a moment to picture dovi's reaction to jorge lorenzo showing up with a mask of his face. just let that image sit there for a moment in your mind's eye. appreciate it

what dovi had going for him those years was, a) the power of his contempt and distaste for jorge, and b) the ability to remind everyone of how underpowered his bike was. and both of those things were perfect to very much GET to jorge, like it genuinely would've been easier for him if dovi could've had the decency to openly despise him. he wants some feisty rivalries!! not dovi just staring at him like he's dirt on his shoe and then turning away omg. here's jorge about dovi in 2008 (from the longer post about the jorge/dovi feud):

'play the victim' godddd you can really picture dovi doing his factual neutral little just :) telling :) it :) like :) it :) is :) lines about how shit his bike is while jorge is having so many emotions he's going to explode. you get the sense jorge felt dovi was always looking down on him, like it's SUCH an unpleasant vibe... and jorge basically confirmed that's exactly what was going on when he said the following in 2018, during their teammate stint:

DURING MY WHOLE CAREER TRIED TO UNDERMINE MY MORALE likeeee this goes SO far back... jorge seeing dovi as this kind of condescending know-it-all who has always thought he's smarter than jorge... it's such a horrid little dynamic with two fundamentally clashing characters repeatedly trapped together, all of jorge's brash earnestness constantly colliding against the wall that is dovi's cold disinterest. funny in every single iteration, I'm so so glad they got to be title rivals for two years to consolidate their life-long loathing of each other. now THERE is a reconciliation that is not happening any time soon. anyway, if literally a single person is interested in more in-depth discussion of the 2006-07 250cc seasons and the actual races therein, lmk