#for them to follow and they feel that a good enough decision is good enough most of the time

[jordiemeow]

CHALLENGERS ANNIVERSARY BOT RELEASE ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

04/05/25

happy terribly late challengersversary!! and thank u for 1k followers that's insane i adore u all. crazy to me how fun of a place this has become and i can’t believe it’s been an entire year since the movie came out omg. shoutout to tashi duncan for bringing us all together to fujo out like this. yeah x10!!

also dropped the android bots temporarily bc i know a few people got reqs for them for this release! they'll be out in the future but i wanna make a tashi one too so i can post them all at once :) as usual all bots are gender neutral unless specified otherwise.

***three's a crowd bot got flagged randomly right after uploading again even though it's been fine for days. will get fixed asap and link added

enjoy! <3

ART TASHI PATRICK

ATP art x tashi x patrick x user

One coach is strenuous enough. Two gives you a headache. But three people barking orders at you for hours every day… it's enough to drive any sane person crazy. Especially when your coaches are known to get a little more... handsy, than what should really be appropriate.

ART AND PATRICK

THREE'S A CROWD art x patrick x user

Three's a crowd. or, at least, it should be. The three of you are thick as thieves—both your boyfriends, and each other's best friends. But you see the way they look at each other, the way they get a little too lost in each other when you're all tangled up in bed together. They aren't as discreet as they think they are. Your poor little repressed white boys.

UNOFFICIAL THIRD art x patrick x user

Moving into a rural town with no stable job probably wasn't the smartest decision you've ever made. But two of the local farmers are friendly enough to offer you a job helping around their farm. Two boyfriends, Art and Patrick, who seem just a little too keen to keep you around for a monogamous couple.

TRUTH OR DARE art x patrick x user

It's always Patrick, isn't it? None of you are surprised when he proposes a game of truth or dare the summer before college starts, sitting out in the sand in front of his parent's beach house. Aow bad could it possibly go? (Spoiler: very.)

ART DONALDSON

KIDS HAVING KIDS art donaldson x user (m4f)

Meeting Art in your freshman year of college was great. He had the potential to be a perfect boyfriend—you just never expected it all to happen so quickly. Fast forward to two years later and the pair of you are juggling an unplanned baby, your future careers, and enough homework to drown in. at least you have each other.

ALTAR BOY art donaldson x user

Art's a good Christian boy. Says his prayers before bed every night, serves as his father's altar boy when he's preaching, and wears his purity ring as if it's a physical part of him. Which is why he feels real guilty about all the thoughts his brain is conjuring up about the new kid in town. And against his better judgement, he finds himself seeking you out more and more.

IMPOTENT art donaldson x user

It's embarrassing. Thirty-two years old and he struggles to get it up. Patrick says it's normal for a man of his lifestyle, but he knows he's just saying that to make him feel better. And with you, his young new partner, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He can't just keep making excuses when you try to take it further; one man only needs to run to the bathroom so much. Maybe it's time to finally come clean.

MERYTON BALL art donaldson x user (m4f)

When your mother mentions a new young man moving into netherfield park, you don't think too much of it. An eligible bachelor that all the girls will be swarming to at the first event he shows his face at, no doubt. But the man in question, Art Donaldson, seems to take a shine to you, and you can't possible turn down such a sweet, bashful smile.

SLIP OF THE TONGUE art donaldson x user (m4f)

Well, this is very awkward. In the heat of the moment, with you perched atop him and your bodies slick with sweat, Art accidentally let the word mommy slip. He's never been so mortified in his life; it's never a term you've discussed using, and the surprise on your face was clear. Embarrassed, he takes to avoiding you after that—but you're his girlfriend. He can't ignore you forever.

JUST A TRIM art donaldson x user

Just a trim. That's what you said when you plucked the pair of hair scissors out of your bag and made your husband sit down at your kitchen table with a towel draped over his shoulders. But, as you run your fingers through his curls, you can't help but think how handsome he'd look with his hair cut a little shorter. How much more mature he'd look without those boyish ringlets.

TRINKETS art donaldson x user

Art normally keeps to himself—he's accidentally lured more than a few pure souls to their demise with his siren song over the course of his life. Now, he watches from afar, transfixed by the humans along the shore that come to swim or play in the rock pools. When you move into one of the houses by the shore, he thinks you're absolutely wonderful. He's too shy to talk to you, of course, but that doesn't stop him from leaving little gifts for you: trinkets he's discovered from sunken ships or on the ocean bed. And then one night the moonlight emboldens him enough to find you on the shore.

PATRICK ZWEIG

BOY DAD patrick zweig x user (m4f)

Your baby daddy is a real pain. The kind that doesn't even bat an eye when your son comes home saying swear words after the spending the weekend with him, and texts you to confirm details he should know about his five-year-old. At the end of the day, though, your kid loves him. Maybe you still love him, too.

DESK CLUMP patrick zweig x user

Once upon a time, Patrick Zweig was destined for greatness. Now, in his mid-twenties, he's found himself working a shitty desk job for a sales company he couldn't care less about. Amidst all the dullness and depression of the modern office, at least he has you to make him feel better about himself. That one weird co-worker who he shares a desk clump with and looks considerably more miserable than him. Plus, you're kinda cute.

GIRL DAD patrick zweig x user (m4f)

When you told your friends you were pregnant, they weren't sure whether to congratulate you or pat you on the back and tell you everything would work out. "Are you sure?" Your mother had asked, when you delivered the news. But despite everyone's doubts about the father, Patrick has proven himself; he's settled down, and after years of being alone, he has a family to come home to. Doesn't mean he isn't still the same idiot you fell in love with.

NUISANCE patrick zweig x user

One of your roommates is a total nuisance. Art is clean enough, but Patrick is a slob. Probably because he grew up with a maid to clean after his ass and Art to keep their room tidy enough for inspections at the Academy... he also has no sense of space and just never leaves you the fuck alone.

WEIRDO patrick zweig x user

Patrick isn't really sure what it is about you. Maybe it's the fact that you don't care about putting up an image to impress him. Maybe it's the way you look adorable with your glasses on and your nose in a book. Either way, he's just completely smitten with you. You're a weirdo... but you're his weirdo.

SINGLE MOTHER patrick zweig x user (m4f)

The moment you brought up having a toddler, Patrick should have booked it. He was sorely tempted, mind you—it's a lot of commitment getting involved with a woman that already has a kid. He's never been the settling down type in the first place. But he really likes you, and after being introduced to your son, he realises he likes him too. Ugh. What a predicament.

TASHI DUNCAN

WHO WOULDN'T BE? tashi duncan x user

Is it a little snaky of you? Yeah, probably. But Patrick just isn't good enough for her! you tell yourself you're doing her a favour. As her best friend, it's your job to steer her away from her asshole of a boyfriend, even if that involves telling a few white lies.

SOLAR POWER tashi duncan x user

Tashi doesn't really get much time to just relax. If she isn't playing tennis, she's at press conferences or sponsorship meetings. She's the most hard-working person you know, especially at her age. So you're a little surprised when she suggests a trip to the beach... but there's no way you're turning down seeing her all chilled out in a bikini.

TUTORIAL tashi duncan x user

When you start seeing Art, your lack of experience doesn't even cross your mind. He seems like an innocent enough guy to you, after all. But when your best friend keeps telling you stories patrick has passed out about all the people art has been with at the academy, maybe you get a little insecure. And maybe you've been whining about it to Tashi for the last few weeks. So, eventually, she caves—she can teach you a few things. It's not as if her boyfriend will mind. He'll just be mad he isn't there to watch.

SUNSHINE tashi duncan x user

After her injury, Tashi was miserable. The first few weeks of working with her, she was cold and snappy, the opposite of your warm smiles and encouraging words. Barely said a word to you unless it was to tell you she was fine or to fuck off. But she's taking it out on the wrong person. You're only trying to help, after all—it's your job. So eventually she warms up to you, and the hostile greetings eventually turn into smiles and coffee placed on your desk before you begin her sessions. She's still a little moody sometimes, though.

COVER GIRL tashi duncan x user

The name 'Tashi Duncan' is quickly becoming known by everyone in the modelling world. Dhe's been on the cover of Vogue, inspired a whole new Chanel collection. With her face on half the billboards in the country, she doesn't have the time to be answering calls and sending emails, so she takes on an assistant: you. The job pays well, and it's a good way into the industry, but... she's a lot more of a brat than you were expecting when you took the job.

taglist: @tacobacoyeet @blastzachilles @gracelynnx @femme-lusts @voidsuites @cha11engers @magicalmiserybore @m4lodr4ma @newrochellechallenger2019 @coolgrl111 @peachyparkerr @stanart4clearskin @misswrldd @kaalxpsia @downtwngrl @pittsick @strfallz @artspats @dazedandconfusedlvr @turnerrst @elsieblogs

[revivisection]

companion piece to @vossn's crime lord zlatko. meet originswap cosmas, aka commissar emmot hyde.

you should pull them up side by side, they're mirrored :)

ramble under the cut. will make a lot more sense if you're already familiar with cosmas lore lol

kept the outfit pretty close to the commissar outfit in game, but i made two decisions that made it still feel like cosmas. the belt goes under the coat rather than over so it doesn't cinch the waist, and the collar is opened up a bit to frame his neck augment (though you can't really see cause it's covered by his hand). i still wanted him to have his mouth scars, but he would've gotten them some other way so i thought it'd be cute if they looked different, arcing down from the corners of his mouth rather than going directly up. he does also still have his metal fingers, but they're covered by his gloves. all his augments look different :)

he lived a different life, he found a different name. the big divergence point is that instead of being thrown into the underhive, he joined the imperial guard in hopes of something better--or maybe he just really wanted to kill things with guns (state-sanctioned style). i think he ends up being a pretty good sniper.

he never would have been able to become a commissar as a regular grunt, so how did he do it? identity theft. he seized an opportunity to better his status by impersonating a dead commissar. he stole his name, stole his title, stole his deeds. stole his gender too. he didn't steal his life in the sense that he was the one who killed the og emmot, but he stole it in another sense of the word.

emmot's life since then has been a constant performance. it's a lie, but it's the kind he's lived so thoroughly it's become true. for all intents and purposes, he is commissar hyde. he's had to think fast and play it extremely careful. instead of cosmas' constant need to prove himself, emmot's existence depends on convincing others.

emmot doesn't have the same freedom as cosmas. where cosmas shaped himself in the chaos of gang wars and shifting allegiances, emmot lives in a rigid hierarchical structure. he's a servant of the imperium, carrying out the emperor's will. he has to conform, he has to follow orders, he has to be a lot more stealth about a lot more things. he's modeled his behaviour after hardass military types rather than criminals, but at his heart he's still a rulebreaker, he's a liar, and he's scum. he just hides it well.

when it came to naming him i wanted something kinda punchy like gaunt and hark's names. going to be repping gaunt's ghosts forever btw. 2 syllable first name, 1 syllable last name, something with a t or a k at the end. i ended up choosing hyde because it was funnyyyyy, like, yeah, guy with something to hide, guy with some strange things going on with his identity, lol. emmot stuck cause i really liked the mouthfeel, it has the hard ending while not being that harsh in sound, and i like the slight letter change from a more common name, very fitting for the setting i think. emmett (possibly) means "truth" lmao. my very trustworthy commissar named truth hider who has never lied to me. i also think emmot still sounds close enough to cosmas, since it keeps the o and the m, while still being distinct.

if you've made it this far. here's the black & white version

[eaturheartout2021]

“Loaded Silence”

Part one

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x female!reader

Word count: ~2,500

Tags: emotional intimacy, team dynamics, unresolved tension, trust-building, mutual pining, protective Ghost, subtle jealousy, soft moments in hard places

⸻

You didn’t talk about it.

Not the conversation in the shed. Not the way he sat close enough to feel the heat from your arm. Not the way your breath caught when he leaned in and asked if you wanted him to back off.

You just went back to work.

Except now—everything had changed.

The tension between you had gone from bristling to electric. Still quiet. Still sharp. But now it had weight. Now it meant something.

He looked at you differently. Not softer, exactly—but more direct. Less guarded. You noticed it in the way his eyes followed you across the room during briefings. In the way his voice dropped when he said your name. In the way he stood just a little too close sometimes—like he was reminding you he was there, even when he wasn’t speaking.

You still didn’t talk much.

But the way you didn’t talk had changed.

He offered you half his rations during a long op when you missed your chance to eat. You bumped your shoulder against his once when Soap got too nosy about your “little shed adventure.”

Little things. Barely visible.

But in this world, little things meant everything.

—

Three weeks later, you were deployed to a crumbling city block outside Warsaw—sniper overwatch, four-man team, low visibility, high tension. Ghost had the ground sweep with Soap. You and Gaz took elevation.

It should’ve been routine.

But you learned quickly that nothing about Ghost was ever just routine.

“Clear on east side,” Gaz whispered through comms. “Moving to next perch.”

You shifted in position, eyes on the alley below. Movement caught your attention—fast, wrong angle. Not Soap.

“Contact. North alley,” you murmured.

“Visual confirmed,” Ghost’s voice cut in, low and sure. “I see two.”

“Three,” you corrected. “Behind the bin—movement, shadow.”

“Copy. I’ll sweep in.”

He was already gone before you could argue.

You followed him through your scope, jaw tight. His movements were efficient—like smoke, like muscle memory—but your heart still slammed against your ribs when he vanished behind the wall.

“Soap, you have eyes?” you asked.

“Negative, I’m pinned two streets over.”

You swore under your breath.

“Gaz,” you said, already on your feet, rifle in hand. “Cover me.”

“I thought you two were playing nice now,” he teased, even as he adjusted position.

You didn’t answer.

Didn’t explain why your stomach twisted every second Ghost was out of view. Why your boots hit the ground harder than they needed to. Why you were already sprinting through side streets before backup was in place.

You found them in the alley—Ghost and three hostiles.

Two already down.

The last one? He had Ghost against the wall, knife out, going for the exposed space between plates.

You didn’t hesitate.

One shot.

Center mass.

The hostile dropped like a sack of stone.

Ghost exhaled, low and tight. Blood smeared down the side of his vest.

You reached him in seconds.

“You good?” you asked, already reaching for your med pack.

“I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He let you check him anyway, standing still while you pressed gauze to the shallow slash on his side. You worked fast, hands practiced, face unreadable.

“You didn’t have to come down here,” he said, voice low.

“I know.”

“You were supposed to stay with Gaz.”

“I know, Ghost.”

He fell silent, but the way he looked at you made your chest feel tight.

“I’m not made of glass,” he muttered.

“No,” you said. “You’re made of bad decisions and half-healed trauma. Hold still.”

That earned you the ghost of a smile. Barely there. But it was real.

You didn’t want to admit what it did to you.

—

The next night back at base, Soap cornered you in the rec room.

“You and Ghost,” he said, casually tossing a stress ball between his hands. “You’ve been different lately.”

You glanced up from your book. “We’re not trying to kill each other. That’s different, yeah.”

He squinted. “Nah, it’s more than that.”

“Drop it, Johnny.”

He grinned. “I would, but Gaz owes me fifty quid.”

You stared at him.

“I bet it’d be him to crack first,” Soap said proudly. “Figured he’d break and apologize. Gaz bet it’d be you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You two are children.”

“Maybe. But I’m richer than Gaz now.”

You stood, brushing past him, heading toward the hall.

Soap followed, still grinning.

“He’s not a bad bloke, you know,” he said, voice suddenly more genuine. “Quiet. But loyal as hell. Not the easiest to love, but… he doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not.”

You paused at the door.

“I never said I wanted that from him.”

“Didn’t have to.”

—

Later, Ghost found you outside.

You sat on the edge of the low wall behind the barracks, staring out at the moonlight stretching over the compound. Your coat was wrapped around your shoulders. The wind cut cold across your cheeks.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood beside you, silent, like he was waiting to be invited.

You didn’t look at him. Just said quietly, “You should’ve waited for backup in Warsaw.”

“I didn’t have time.”

“You could’ve died.”

“You didn’t let me.”

You turned to him. His mask was off—just the balaclava tonight. You could see his eyes. Could feel the weight of them on your face.

“You’re not reckless,” you said. “So why take the risk?”

“Because I knew,” he said simply. “That you’d come for me.”

Your breath caught.

He sat beside you, slow and deliberate, close enough for your knees to brush.

“I’ve been doing this a long time,” he said, voice quieter than usual. “Lost a lot of people. Trusted the wrong ones. Pushed away the right ones. I don’t let people in easy.”

You swallowed. “Me either.”

He looked at you.

And then, softly: “But I want to let you in.”

The words were simple. Not poetic. Not dressed up.

But they hit harder than any mission blow.

“I don’t want easy,” you said.

“I know.”

“I don’t want soft either.”

He smirked. “Good. I’m a bastard most days.”

You smiled—small, but real.

“But I want real,” you said. “And I want someone who sees me when I’m quiet. When I’m not trying to be anything but who I am.”

“I already do.”

The air stilled between you.

Not tense.

Not loaded.

Just open.

And then, finally—he reached out.

His fingers brushed yours. Not a grab. Not a claim.

An ask.

You curled yours around his in answer.

—

The team noticed the next day.

Not because you were touchy. Not because you made a show of anything.

But because something had shifted again.

The silence between you wasn’t avoidance anymore. It was shared space. Comfortable. Tethered.

You moved in tandem during ops.

You matched each other’s pace.

You anticipated each other’s words—without needing to say them.

It was Gaz who pointed it out, leaning on a Humvee with a smug grin while you and Ghost reviewed the new satellite maps.

“Christ,” he muttered to Soap. “They’re in sync now.”

Soap nodded. “Yeah. It’s gross.”

Price looked up from his clipboard. “What’s gross?”

“They’re finishing each other’s—”

“Don’t,” Price warned.

“—sentences.”

The captain sighed. “God help me.”

But no one said anything to you.

They didn’t have to.

—

That night, you sat on Ghost’s bunk.

Not on purpose. It was the only spot open during a chaotic debrief, and you were too tired to care.

But he didn’t make you move.

Just sat beside you, thigh brushing yours, silent and steady.

You didn’t talk much.

But when the meeting ended and the others filtered out, he stayed.

And so did you.

“I don’t know what this is yet,” you admitted. “And I’m not great at… feelings.”

“Neither am I.”

“But I think I want to find out.”

He nodded. “Together?”

You looked at him.

At the man behind the mask.

And said, “Yeah.”

He didn’t smile.

Not fully.

But his hand found yours again.

And this time, you didn’t let go.

I have a feeling that this is going to be more than just a few parts… cause I’m in LOVE with this already. Slow burns are my fav. If you have any requests please feel free to send them my way and I’ll get to work on them asap❤️

[chahaezii]

Guys hear me out.

Jinwoo x Valorant AU. + Reader ofc

Jinwoo's parents are dead due to the "First Light" incident. He somehow survived but got turned into a classified Radiant.

First Light was a global event around 2039 that unleashed Radianite, a powerful new energy source. It caused weird phenomena and led to the rise of Radiants, people with powers. A shady mega corporation, Kingdom, tried to control it all. To fight the chaos (and some parallel Earth stuff like Omega and Alpha), the Valorant Protocol was formed.

Chapter 1 ; Strange guy, Strange feelings.

It's been awhile since a new agent arrived in the protocol. Ever since they've recruited You, a new sentinal, no one seems to have much interest in finding a new recruit. That is, until a strange guy caught Iso's eye.

“Hey, guys. I know the protocol has been quiet lately, but, I think I have someone in mind.” Iso seemed serious as usual, though he does seem a little nervous this time around. You weren't sure if the others noticed it but you sure did. It piqued your interest however.

“Someone in mind? Introduce us! I've been needing a new friend to binge cooking shows with me!” Clove, the mischievous immortal, joked in response. Most of the others that were there started talking to each other about who it could be and what skill they would possess. Even you started wondering about it yourself. It's only been 4 months since you joined VP, but you already blend in with the others really well.

“Well, should we tell Brim about this first? You should tell him all the details you have about this person first, then maybe we could make our decisions.” Vyse had a good point, you thought. I mean, Brim is the leader anyways, he should know first. We'll follow his lead whether it be to recruit them or not. But you really do wish to see this person face-to-face. You need to know what's so interesting about this person that you could sense Iso's emotion, especially him being nervous. Not something that Iso would show.

A couple days went by and Brim reported back to us about the new recruitment. He agreed to try and recruit the person that Iso was talking about. The mission will be led by Iso, followed by Clove, Omen, Gekko and You. This is your first recruitment mission, so you were a little anxious.

You and the others arrived at the given location, immediately getting off the plane and following the already laid out plan by Iso. You set your traps and wait till Iso gives commands.

However, things didn't exactly go the way it's intended. Your traps were somehow seen and destroyed. In an immediate response, you threw your grenade out, giving a quick flash. You ran to another spot nearby, not wanting to give your positions away. Iso used his comms, “Hey, is everything good there? I saw your flash.” You know if you say anything right now, it might be a dead giveaway. You stayed quiet for a moment before silently whispering in your comms, “I think he's here.”

“Got it. Me and Gekko will switch positions.” Iso immediately took action. Though, it was a little too late for that. You felt a swing passed by and you were now in the hands of the "new recruit". You couldn't properly speak as his hands had a tight grip on your neck.

“Who are you? Why are you spying on me.” He spoke, his voice was low. You could tell this guy is powerful just by how much aura you were sensing, coming alone from just him. “I-I can't.. s-speak..” You plead, if he holds you like this any longer, you might just pass out. He lets his grip soften slightly, not letting you fully go but just enough where you're able to breath and speak properly. “Explain.” He demanded, cold and monotoned. You immediately explained how you're just a mere agent trying to talk to him, trying to recruit him in Valorant Protocol. How you guys had a big interest in him and his skills, how useful they are in battles and such.

Just as you were explaining, Omen came to check in on you just to find you being held by someone. He immediately uses his blind and teleport behind the person holding you. He held a gun to the person's head. “Let her go, we just want to talk. No need to get violent.” Omen sounds threatening, but you know he means his words. There is no reason to be fighting when you're only trying to talk.

As the blind loses its effects, he responded as he lets you go entirely. “Alright. Though, your little teammate here was already in the middle of explaining that to me.” Iso, Gekko and Clove all came to the spot that you last gave comms at. Gekko and Clove were quite surprised to see such a scene playing in front of their eyes, though Iso already expected something like this to happen.

“We meet again, Sung Jinwoo.” Iso walks over to him slowly, not wanting to make it seem like he has any ill intention. “Sorry that it had to come to this, but we're really just here to talk this out with you!” Clove exclaimed, they felt a little bad that Jinwoo needed to be locked in place with a gun to his head. After a couple of moments went by, all of you had finished taking turns in interrogating Jinwoo and convincing him to join. Jinwoo agreed to check the Valorant Headquarters first, though he was a little doubtful.

As he arrived, almost everyone was there to greet him warmly. They started talking to Jinwoo for a bit, even if Jinwoo isn't much of a talker. You stared at Jinwoo from afar, you didn't know why but you just couldn't take your eyes off of him. You didn't even notice that you were smiling as you kept your gaze locked onto him.

“You really like that new guy or something?” Jett playfully teased, she noticed how you were smiling and staring in silent. She couldn't help but tease you for it. “What? N-No! I just want to.. uhm–” Jett laughed as you stuttered, trying to explain yourself. “It's alright Y/N, I won't snitch if you get me some kimbab later!” You sighed and nodded, you know how much of a trouble Jett could be sometimes but you let her be. She's one year older than you, which makes you feel obligated to respect her even if she's being quite a troublemaker.

A couple days passed by before Jinwoo officially made the decision to join Valorant. He stated that there isn't any reason for him to not join, after all, it's for his own good and the others. Protecting what's left for him to care about since his family are gone. He thought, maybe, if he stays he'd get a new purpose. A new family.

Brim had assigned you to help Jinwoo with the tour and guides. You happily accepted your role in helping Jinwoo. You showed him around the HQ, his room, the training field and even taught him everything you knew about the Omega Earth. (Currently, you guys are on Alpha Earth. The ORIGINAL earth)

It was quite awkward at first, you wanted to talk casually with him but you couldn't stop feeling so nervous. You caught Jinwoo stealing glances at you from time to time, but you didn't think too much about it. After you finished your tour, you dropped Jinwoo off by his room.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” You froze for a second, unsure why you felt like dozens of butterflies running free in your stomach. You gently smiled at him, “Goodnight to you too, Jinwoo.”

The next day, you decided to go to the training field and fought some bots. Usually there would be Yoru and Phoenix hanging around here betting on who would win, but thankfully today, they were on a mission. Which gives you plenty of time to train without distractions.

At least, that's what you thought of. You lost your focus immediately as you sensed someone stepping in the waiting room. A purple trail of aura could be seen, it was definitely Jinwoo. You almost lost to the bot if it weren't your traps that saved you. You killed the leftovers before heading to the waiting room that Jinwoo is in. “Nice skills you have there. Is that why they call you 'The Clutcher' ?” He sounded genuine but it was quite hard to tell with his cold expression and body language. “Thanks and I uh, I guess so? Though, it's quite a silly nickname.” You nervously chuckled, you didn't know why but everytime you see Jinwoo or talk to him, your heart races. You didn't want it to distract you from your missions, so you try to ignore it.

Was it important? Sooner or later, those feelings will definitely catch up to you. But for now, it's just a strange feeling.

You talked with Jinwoo about the protocol and your experiences with it so far. You enjoy talking to him, he's a good listener and responder. You guys shared some similar experiences and interests. At first, Jinwoo wasn't much of an open person, but slowly, he talks more to you. He even invited you to train together, wanting to build teamwork skills with you.

You could tell that Jinwoo is very experienced with handling battles. Just how he hits all his shots without breaking a sweat, how he manages his ability usage and how easily he defeats the bots. Especially defeating Maxbot. That definitely caught you by surprise, no one has been able to defeat Maxbot alone and yet somehow Jinwoo did it with ease.

“You're an absolute god! You're killing it out here, Jinwoo!” Excitedly, you exclaimed. Just watching Jinwoo fight out in the training field was already so thrilling. You couldn't wait to see him fight on the battlefield, alongside you and the others.

“Ah, you're giving me too much credit. It's nothing too hard.” Jinwoo seemed humble, he doesn't want to admit just how strong he truly is, or maybe he doesn't understand just how strong Maxbot is compared to the other agents, making it quite the achievement to be able to beat him in a solo match. He could tell you were thrilled to see him fight, he enjoyed your reaction. He found it amusing and frankly, quite adorable.

You both bonded more over lunch time. Talking about more casual things, favorite music, foods, drinks, etc. You both did share a similar taste, making it much more of a fun conversation. As you both exchanged some casual information about each other, Yoru came by to sit down at your table with Jinwoo.

“My god Yoru, what is it now?” You annoyingly sighed upon his arrival. He sat down right next to Jinwoo, taking his signature butterfly comb out to fix his hair. He smirked slightly, looking back and forth between me and Jinwoo before opening his mouth.

“Nothing. Just wanted to join in the very fun conversation you guys were in.” Yoru is clearly trying to annoy you. This is definitely because of Jett. You immediately suspected it was her doing. “It was nothing interesting. Just us talking about what we share in common.” Jinwoo assured Yoru. Jinwoo didn't exactly want any attention to be drawn to him or you. He could tell that you were clearly annoyed by Yoru's presence.

“Hm, if you say so. I'll be leaving then.” Yoru got up, pat Jinwoo's back and left just like that. Walking away as he swings his comb around, playing with it.

“Sorry about that, Yoru has always been quite—annoying.” You sighed once more as you sipped on your drink. “Hey it's alright, don't let his presence ruin your mood.” Jinwoo seemed genuine, his gaze softening ever so slightly towards you. You didn't break eye contact with him for a moment, letting his gaze linger around you. That is, until you snapped out of it. “Ah, yeah, you're right.” You spoke, trying your hardest to hide the fact that you enjoyed his gaze. How it slightly softened, how his deep blue eyes stared right back at you, how mesmerizing it was to be lost in his gaze.

He let out a relieved sigh before getting up from his seat. “Well, we better go rest for now. We do have a mission coming up tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we should. I'll see you tomorrow then?” You too got up from your seat, wanting to walk your way to each other's room together.

“Mhm, good luck tomorrow, Y/N.”

“You too, Jinwoo. Do your best!”

Note; Crazy crossover but this literally strikes me in the middle of playing my rank up game LOL 😭 I couldn't stop thinking about it so here I am, writing my AU 🥀. Hope y'all like it as much as I do because this is definitely going to be an ongoing series !! It'll take awhile before another part comes out since I do have multiple requests at the moment, so be patient ya! ^.^

Oh and don't be scared to ask me any information about this AU or Valorant in general! I know not everyone play/look into Valorant so I'm more than happy to share my knowledge~

I'm still trying to improve my writing, so excuse any mistakes!

[woradat]

HC on Throne and fall

NOTE - this will roughly summarize the relationship between reader and the main characters who play a major role in the story (will add more)

Proteus

That wretched name you so love to loathe

Yes, the Senate is a veritable parade of imbeciles draped in protocol—but Proteus, regrettably, is not among them. He is one of the rare few with teeth behind the smile, substance behind the speech. He arrived late, but how effortlessly he outshone the veterans. And now, you’re left wondering whether the contempt you feel stems from the humiliation of being outmaneuvered—or from the grudging admiration for a plan executed with such exquisite cruelty. That infuriatingly handsome, silver-tongued bot has whittled away your power with grace and precision, pulling you into his web, convinced that your voice can be bought

And it can

If you decide to sell

Every one of his smiles is a velvet-wrapped dagger whispering “I’m superior” and you smile right back "try me"—why wouldn’t you? He’s a charming fraud, a quick study, almost too adept for his own good. Had he not drawn first blood, you might’ve called him a worthy ally but this is the Senate we are talking about, not some tragic morality play penned for the weak of will

The irony? You would’ve done the same, had the roles been reversed

You despise being underestimated

And yet.. It’s proven advantageous

Dangerously so

Half the Senate now sings in Proteus’ choir— including you, for the moment. But tides turn, and yours is already rising.

You’ve obtained the decisive piece. The one move that will flip the board, tip the king, and redraw the game. It comes with risk, of course

(I thought it would be funny. The picture shows the overall relationship)

and if both senator have they own pawn.. Proteus got Sentinel, Shockwave have Orion Pax, then you have–

Megatron

Miner, fighter, poet, dreamer – a walking contradiction dressed in grime and fury. He’s dangerous in that maddening, electric way that makes your very circuits want to twist with anticipation. You’ve written him a part in your grand production, and now it’s your job to mold him into an actor worthy of the role. He lacks polish, control, even education—his innocence borders on poetic but that only makes him more tempting to shape

To steer

To direct

You’ve given him lines to speak, actions to perform. But deep down, you know—you’d be bored if he followed your script too well

Someone like him will never trust someone like you and that, deliciously, is what makes the fruit of your deception all the sweeter

Because he will think

He will doubt

He will grow

But not fast enough to see past you

And you must ensure he never turns the game on you once the curtains fall. That is non-negotiable. You will not allow it and should your little performance collapse in ruins, you hope the grave you dig for yourself will be a masterpiece—an elegant tombstone with your name etched in graceful script

…And then there’s

Shockwave

The ever-serene, ever-sterile paragon of logic. Perhaps the highest among you all—yes, including you. He speaks not to persuade, but to proclaim, and does so with such unflinching candor one might believe he has no idea how the game is played – too pristine, untainted to sit among serpents like you and Proteus and yet, that's precisely where your silent, inconvenient admiration begins

You mock him, of course—one must

But woven in your barbs is a thread of sincerity even he likely detects but never acknowledges

He should be in a cathedral. A laboratory. Anywhere but here, in this vulgar arena of power and duplicity

You know a little secret about him—a delicate, dangerous truth about that academy he claims was founded in memory of a dead mentor. A refuge for the rejected, the “outilers” the ones deemed unfit for the Functionist ideal

He knows you know and yet, you’ve never wielded it, never bartered, never threatened. Not yet

You, of all bots, who plans every step like a chessmaster with bloodied hands…

still hesitate

Not out of mercy

But out of uncertainty

And that is unusual. Disturbingly so

you hate that — Immensely

[plotbunnysyndrome]

More Than Honour

Chapter 32: Love Letters and Other Accidents

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Introduction: It began, as many minor disasters do in large country estates, with far too much time, far too little supervision, and at least one dramatic sibling armed with ink. A letter was written — extravagantly, anonymously, and with absolutely no sense of scale. Written as a joke, delivered by mistake, and read by exactly the wrong person.  In most households, the misdelivery of a letter might cause mild inconvenience. In the Bridgerton household, it causes existential panic. Widespread confusion, emotional misfires, and one girl trying very hard not to lose her composure while plotting dinner conversation like a spy. In unrelated news, Gregory and Benedict are not allowed near ink for the rest of the season.

The morning sun had no mercy.

It spilled through the Aubrey Hall breakfast room like an overzealous guest, illuminating every groan, wince, and questionable decision made the night before.

Colin shuffled in first, sunglasses on indoors, clutching a carafe of orange juice like it was a religious artifact. “If anyone speaks above a whisper,” he muttered, “I will bite them.”

Eloise followed, hair aggressively braided to hide the chaos of her hangover. “That was not wine. That was witchcraft.”

“I told you,” Benedict said, dragging his feet behind her, “that Lucien’s bottle of brandy had a death wish.”

Daphne, already seated with a perfectly arranged plate of fruit and a suspiciously smug look, sipped her tea. “I feel fine.”

Simon, beside her, deadpan: “She drank water between each glass. Like a monster.”

Then—storm clouds.

A pair of furious younger siblings exploded into the room like a comedic wrath of God.

Hyacinth, arms folded, eyebrow raised, voice sharp. “Excuse me. Is this the breakfast for people who deliberately excluded minors from emotional carnage and poor decisions?”

Gregory, trailing behind, flailing. “You left us out. Of drinking games. And a secret terrace party. AND BENEDICT READ SHAKESPEARE TO A FOOT.”

Benedict, sitting down slowly: “...I wasn’t proud of that moment.”

“You weren’t there, Hyacinth,” Eloise croaked, forehead on the table. “You didn’t see Colin try to waltz with a tree.”

Colin, not lifting his head from his folded arms: “The tree asked me first.”

Hyacinth narrowed her eyes. “I would have thrived.”

Gregory collapsed into a chair. “Did anyone at least duel?”

Simon, expression perfectly deadpan: “Verbally. Through poetry. And disappointment.”

Anthony entered next, late, composed, and wearing the expression of a man who had almost avoided being dragged into emotional warfare but was pulled into it anyway like a stubborn shipwreck.

Hyacinth spotted him instantly. “Ah, the brooder has arrived.”

Anthony poured coffee without comment.

Daphne grinned. “He laughed last night.”

Everyone looked at her.

Anthony sighed. “We were all drunk.”

“You laughed,” Benedict echoed, like he’d spotted a unicorn. “Like… a real laugh. With teeth.”

Hyacinth narrowed her eyes. “This is why we should be invited. History was made.”

From the hallway, the sound of two more arrivals.

You and Lucien walked in together, mid-conversation. You looked half-hungover, half-luminous, hair a bit tousled from sleep, eyes bright with mischief and exhaustion.

Lucien looked insufferably composed.

“Good morning,” he greeted, with just enough smugness to be slapped.

“Absolutely not,” Eloise mumbled into her toast.

Daphne’s eyes sparkled. “You two look well rested.”

You arched an eyebrow. “I can assure you, we were not.”

Anthony choked slightly on his coffee.

Hyacinth looked between the two of you, narrowed her eyes dramatically, then shoved a piece of toast in her mouth like it was popcorn and said, “Do go on.”

Lucien smirked and took the only empty seat left — next to Anthony.

You, traitorous creature that you are, sat beside Hyacinth, leaned into her, and whispered, “We did nothing scandalous.”

Hyacinth narrowed her eyes again. “That’s even worse. Because now I know something happened. You had a DRINKING GAME,” she hissed. “WITHOUT US.”

“You’re children,” Simon muttered.

Gregory gestured grandly. “I am fifteen years old. In many cultures, I would be married by now.”

Eloise peeked from under her cucumber slices. “In many cultures, you would also be beaten with a stick for trying to flirt with Lady Danbury’s niece last year.”

“That was one time!”

“And a terrible time,” Benedict groaned, massaging his temples. “I still have secondhand trauma.”

Lucien, ever smooth, sipped his coffee. “It was for your own good,” he said lightly. “Alcohol and Hyacinth is a combination no society is ready for.”

Hyacinth narrowed her eyes. “One day you will regret excluding me.”

“Is that a promise?” Daphne asked, grinning.

Hyacinth held up her fork like a dagger. “It is a prophecy.”

Gregory, sipping juice like it was wine, said, “I want a recount of every event I missed. Chronologically. With footnotes.”

Simon leaned across the table. “Did you not climb through the dumbwaiter last night?”

“I was locked out,” Gregory said, indignant. “And abandoned.”

Hyacinth raised her glass of juice. “To justice.”

Anthony groaned. “To silence.”

Lucien raised his teacup. “To encore performances.”

Colin, face still in his arms: “To someone removing the sun from the sky, permanently.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. Genuinely. Loudly. And just a little bit guiltily.

There was a lull in the laughter as Violet entered.

Poised. Regal. Entirely too awake for someone over forty who raised eight children.

She paused just inside the room, one eyebrow raised, surveying the scene like a general taking stock of casualties.

“Oh good,” she said brightly. “You’re all alive.”

A collective groan.

She moved to the head of the table, picked up a scone, and gestured vaguely at Colin’s collapsed form. “How is he still horizontal?”

“Guilt,” Eloise muttered. “And gin.”

“I’m never drinking again,” Colin whimpered from the depths of his cushion prison.

“You say that every time,” Violet replied, breaking her scone in half.

She glanced around. “I trust the adults-only escapades did not end with any broken bones, ruined reputations, or unplanned engagements?”

Anthony muttered, “Not for lack of effort.”

“Good,” Violet replied smoothly. “Then you’ll all be perfectly ready for tomorrow evening.”

There was a beat of silence.

A slow shift.

The words landed.

Tomorrow.

The Hearts and Flowers Ball.

You felt it first — that strange, queasy drop in the stomach. Not from the alcohol. From the weight of things left unsaid.

Simon sat up straighter. Daphne’s fingers stilled around her teacup. Lucien didn’t move, but his expression softened. Anthony’s jaw shifted.

Violet, noticing the shift, gave a serene little smile and stood.

“Do remember,” she said, brushing a crumb from her skirt, “we may host the event, but once the ton arrives… the show must begin.”

And then, like a queen bestowing a final warning, she swept from the room.

Silence lingered.

Then—

“Will there be weapons?” Hyacinth asked suddenly.

Every head turned.

“I mean,” she continued innocently, “if it’s a real Bridgerton event—shouldn’t there be, like…emotional dueling? Swordplay? Flaming scandal? I’d like to prepare.”

Gregory raised a glass. “To chaos.”

Benedict saluted with a butter knife.

And just like that, the mood cracked open again — laughter rolling over tension like a tide trying to delay the inevitable.

But the stillness remained, somewhere underneath.

Because tomorrow?

Tomorrow, the world will be watching.

Late Afternoon, Aubrey Hall Gardens

The garden behind Aubrey Hall was caught in that golden lull between hours — when sunlight felt slower, shadows stretched languidly across the gravel paths, and the roses looked like they were eavesdropping on secrets.

Lucien was walking beside you.

Not in the way men did when they were trying to impress.

No.

In the way men walked beside old friends, or favorite books, or unspoken prayers.

The two of you had wandered away from the main house after a midday meal that involved Colin attempting to teach Newton to fetch a scone (he failed), and Hyacinth challenging Gregory to a duel using butter knives (she won).

Lucien glanced at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "You know, if we keep walking in circles, people might think we're lost."

You chuckled, nudging him lightly. "Perhaps we are. Lost in thought, maybe."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Are you suggesting I'm not a man of profound contemplation?"

"Profoundly mischievous, perhaps," you teased, your eyes twinkling.

Lucien laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Guilty as charged."

As you continued your walk, the comfortable silence between you spoke volumes, a testament to the growing bond forged amidst the chaos of the past days.

Meanwhile, in the Drawing Room

Gregory lounged on the settee, a quill twirling between his fingers, eyes gleaming with mischief. Benedict sat opposite him, a parchment spread out on the table, ink bottle at the ready.

"I still think this is a terrible idea," Benedict remarked, though the amused glint in his eyes betrayed his words.

"Nonsense," Gregory replied, dipping the quill into the ink. "Eloise has been far too serious lately. A little levity will do her good."

Benedict sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Alright, let's hear it."

Gregory cleared his throat dramatically and began to dictate:

"My Dearest—"

"To say your presence lingers is to imply that it ever left me."

"There is no hour in the day where your name does not sit in the quiet of my chest, tucked behind every breath like a secret begging to be discovered."

Benedict raised an eyebrow. "You're laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?"

Gregory grinned. "That's the point. It's supposed to be over-the-top romantic. She'll read it aloud and realize it's a jest."

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. "Very well. Let's finish it."

They continued crafting the letter, each line more dramatic than the last, until finally, Gregory signed it with a flourish:

"Yours. Always. In thought, if not in name."

He folded the parchment carefully, sealing it with wax. "Now, to deliver it."

In the Corridor…

A young footman, Thomas, passed by, and Gregory called out to him.

"Thomas! Could you do me a favor and deliver this letter to Miss Eloise's room?"

Thomas nodded, taking the letter. "Of course, Master Gregory."

As Thomas made his way upstairs, he paused, uncertain. The hallway was dimly lit, and the doors to the guest rooms looked remarkably similar. He hesitated before slipping the letter under the door to the left, unaware that he had chosen the wrong room.

Back at the garden…

The world had narrowed to this — gravel crunching beneath your boots, the slow flick of breeze through wisteria, Lucien occasionally tapping your shoulder with a leaf and claiming he’d “knighted” you.

“Sir Y/N of Minor Emotional Inconveniences,” he declared as he tucked a daisy behind your ear. “Defender of fainting debutantes and slayer of awkward silences.”

You swatted him. “You’re drunk on fresh air. It’s unsettling.”

Lucien just grinned, unbothered. “Or maybe I’m finally being myself.”

There it was — the unguarded charm. The mischief. The maddening ability to tilt the world slightly off-axis just by existing in it.

You nudged his shoulder. “You’ve been good for me, you know.”

Lucien blinked.

“Truly,” you said, more softly now. “You’ve made me laugh when I forgot I still could. You’ve reminded me that I don’t have to survive all of this with silence and stoicism. Sometimes... I can just be.”

He smiled then. Really smiled.

You didn’t say anything else, because it didn’t need saying.

And somewhere deep in your chest, beneath the lingering sun and the daisy behind your ear, bloomed something soft. Something you hadn’t dared name.

Not yet.

The walk ended just before the sun began its slow descent. You touched his hand lightly at the door to your corridor, offered a parting glance laced with warmth, and slipped inside.

Still smiling.

Which is why the letter on your pillow caught you off guard.

Folded with precision. Sealed with wax. 

You frowned.

Curious, you picked it up, noting the lack of a name on the front. Breaking the seal, you unfolded the parchment and began to read:

“My Dearest—

To say your presence lingers is to imply that it ever left me.

There is no hour in the day where your name does not sit in the quiet of my chest, tucked behind every breath like a secret begging to be discovered.

You are the thunder in a world of whispers. You are the place my gaze always lands—even when I try to look away.

I cannot sleep for fear I will dream of you and be forced to wake without you. I cannot speak your name without tasting regret that it is not followed by mine.

If love is real, it would arrive not gently, but like a flame that refused to be extinguished. That is what you are to me — fire, even in the dark.

Tell me—do you feel it too? That hush before we speak. That pause where the world holds its breath. That treacherous, delicious edge between what we want and what we dare?

If you do…say nothing. Just meet me in silence.

Yours. Always. In thought, if not in name.”

With each line, your heart pounded louder. The words were deeply romantic, echoing sentiments that felt all too familiar. One phrase, in particular, caught your breath:

“If love is real, it would arrive not gently, but like a flame that refused to be extinguished.”

You closed your eyes, that memory clawing at you.

Anthony.

The only other person you’d ever said that to. Whispered it once, reckless and private, during a rare, honest moment in the Bridgerton town estate library. So many months ago. Before the mess. Before Lucien.

Could this letter be from him?

A whirlwind of emotions surged within you—confusion, hope, fear. The possibility that Anthony harbored feelings for you, feelings he had kept hidden, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The letter trembled slightly in your fingers.

It wasn’t fear, exactly.

It was the ache of possibility.

You sat at the edge of your bed, the pale parchment held like something sacred, something dangerous. The ink was elegant. Anonymous. The wording—flamboyant, theatrical, almost laughable in its excess—and yet…

A turn of words that felt like him.

Could it be him?

But Anthony wasn’t exactly the poetic type. And he certainly wasn’t the “anonymous confession” sort.

Unless…

Last night.

The drinking game.

The things he said. The look on his face when he surrendered his glass. When he didn’t fight the silence.

He was drunk. He had sung to you once when he was drunk.

Could this letter be another one of those slips?

You folded the page carefully, your thoughts a tangle of panic and fragile hope.

Unless… it wasn’t him.

The only other possibility—the only man who had the access, the drama, the sheer nerve—was Lucien.

But he’d been with you all afternoon. Every second accounted for.

Unless… he had someone deliver it. A scheme within a scheme.

He was sneaky like that.

You pressed your hand to your temple.

You’d have to ask. At dinner. But subtly.

Lucien couldn’t know you suspected Anthony—not if it was Anthony.

And if it wasn’t?

Well.

You weren’t ready for the answer either way.

Dinner — The Great Hall

You entered the dining room like a woman possessed.

Not that anyone would know.

Your posture was perfect. Your smile polite. But inside, your mind still burned with the letter, with that damn phrase, and the weight of who it could have come from.

You took your place at the long table, beside Lucien, across and diagonal from Anthony.

He didn’t meet your eyes at first.

But you kept glancing at him anyway, checking for any sign—any twitch of guilt, any tell.

He finally looked up—and caught you watching.

His brow furrowed slightly. Not with annoyance.

With confusion.

Alarm.

"Why does she keep looking at me tonight?"

"Did I accidentally say something last night? Did I confess something while drunk? No… I don’t think I did."

"THEN WHY DOES SHE KEEP LOOKING AT ME?!"

Lucien, beside you, leaned in slightly, voice low enough to escape all other ears.

"Angel," he murmured, soft and curious, "you’ve been staring into the void all evening. Have I done something terribly right?"

You blinked.

Right.

This was your chance.

Casual. Natural. Inconspicuous.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly, letting your voice carry that same teasing warmth.

“Lord Blackbourne...do you think love letters are a good way to say what someone feels?”

Lucien paused, smile tugging at his lips, eyes dancing with something unreadable.

“Oh, Angel,” he said softly, voice like a secret, “where is the fun in that?”

You raised an eyebrow.

He leaned just a touch closer, his tone velvet.

“I much prefer declaring my love in person. So I can see the reaction. Feel it.” A pause, then with the slow grin of a man who always knows how close he is to danger. “But if you want one…I could write you a letter.”

Your breath caught—not from the flirtation, but the confirmation.

He hadn’t written it.

Then it had to be—

You turned your gaze, slowly, back across the table.

And then you laughed—too quickly, too nervously.

“I was just curious,” you said, trying to wave it off. “Not asking for one in particular.”

Lucien gave a slow, satisfied nod, turning back to his food.

And you?

You knew.

It had to be Anthony.

You glanced at him again. 

He was already watching you.

There was no anger there. No smugness. Just that raw, searching look — the one that had undone you more than once.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t look away.

He held your gaze.

Steady.

Searching.

Almost…wondering.

“Why is she still looking at me? What does she know?”

You blinked, looked down at your plate.

Your heart was beating entirely too fast.

Meanwhile—On the other side of the table.

Benedict took a sip of his wine, leaning back in his chair, posture relaxed.

Gregory nudged him under the table, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Did you see her face all through dinner?” Gregory whispered. “Do you think it worked?”

Benedict raised an eyebrow. “What worked?”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “The letter.”

Eloise, sitting on the other side of Gregory, turned sharply. “What letter?”

Gregory blinked.

Benedict froze mid-sip.

“The one we wrote,” Gregory said slowly, as if she should already know. “You were supposed to get it this afternoon, and we were expecting you to read it out loud. For laughs. Remember?”

Eloise frowned. “I didn’t receive any letter.”

Gregory paled.

Benedict groaned. “Well… shit.”

Gregory turned even paler. “Then… where did it go?”

Benedict winced and shrugged.

Taglist: @bollzinurmouth @drewstarkeysrightarm @thorins-queen-of-erebor @yearninglustfully @khaleesibeach @ifilwtmfc

[vespcrtines]

Josie leans in over the blooms, her eyes going soft and starry, catching on every petal like they might whisper secrets if she just listens close enough. Lord above, they’re beautiful. The violetas look like tiny handkerchiefs someone dropped in a hurry, all ruffled and bashful. The peonies puff up in the breeze, big show-offs with their frilly skirts, their edges ruffling in the same wind that lifts the hem of her dress. And that lavender—well, it’s about the prettiest shade of purple she’s seen all week. Smells like summertime and old love letters.

A soft, breathy hum stirs in her throat as the wind flips a curl across her cheek. An old song flits through her head, a sweet little melody she hums to the pretty blossoms. You can learn a lot of things from the flowers…

“Oh, Miss Myrick, don’t they just look good enough to eat!” Josie grins, giving the lavender a little tap. It bounces like it agrees. A bangled hand dips into the basket at her hip, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a couple jars of honey, each one catching the sun like liquid gold. “I think with a little encouragement, they’ll make the tastiest honey you ever did try.” Her voice bubbles into a giggle as she lines them up beside the flowers, like setting a tiny table for a fairy queen.

A few soaps follow, pale and floral-stamped, their soft colors catching the light. “And these’ll pair up real nice, don’t you think? Folks’ll eat it up—well, not the soap, ‘less they’re real hungry.”

Her gaze flits between the flowers again, fingers twitching like she can already feel the stems in her hands. How was she supposed to just pick a few? They were all so pretty, gussied up and ready to be admired. What if one got left behind and felt awful lonely? She couldn’t have that.

“I was gonna be sensible,” Josie sighs, though she doesn’t mean it for a second. With a happy, decisive motion, she scoops up all three little bundles, hugging them to her chest as that shimmer in her eyes snaps to a sparkle. “But you know what? I’ll take ‘em all. Can’t leave nobody behind today.”

And as the breeze dances around them, flipping their hair and brushing their cheeks, Josie reaches up and tucks one of the violetas behind Teagan’s ear.

"Well, good! I'll have Aeron and Aelwen pick up extra eggs and berries." She winks, "I'll whip up something delish for everyone." Her face is scrunching with her smile, lashes kissing one another with each blink. As she walks back behind the stand, Teagan drums her hands along the edge and bounces into place.

There are a few options she can offer to Josie in regards to her purple mission. Lavender is an obvious choice, but there is also an assortment of purple peonies she can use. Then of course, there's the violetas! But sadly, no starflowers. Those blooms have been giving everyone trouble for some reason. She tuts to herself and taps her chin, gathering the options for Josie.

"All right, lass." Teagan places one of each of the flowers on an empty spot on the table, inquiring for Josie to take a look. "These are what I got." She points to each one, "Violetas, lavender, and peonies! But I'm not too sure how well they peonies will infuse."

[drdemonprince]

your post about only communicating the minimum needed reminded me of the gricean maxims (concept in linguistics describing how people communicate)! your advice was very similar to the maxim of quantity :)

From the UPenn School of Arts & Sciences site:

Grice's Maxims

The maxim of quantity, where one tries to be as informative as one possibly can, and gives as much information as is needed, and no more.

The maxim of quality, where one tries to be truthful, and does not give information that is false or that is not supported by evidence.

The maxim of relation, where one tries to be relevant, and says things that are pertinent to the discussion.

The maxim of manner, when one tries to be as clear, as brief, and as orderly as one can in what one says, and where one avoids obscurity and ambiguity.

[goldenpinof]

.

[darcyolsson]

in loving memory of tumblr's april fools' pranks 💐 2014 - 2024

icymi, tumblr used to do an elaborate april fool's prank every year, but this year they suddenly stopped. here's a somewhat detailed recap of everything they did over the decade:

2013 - mishapocalypse (honourable mention): tumblr staff didn’t start doing april fools until 2014, but the mishapocalypse happened on tumblr in 2013 and i feel like this list would be incomplete without it

2014 - tumblrpro: upon opening your dash you were greeted by an “inspirational” video, that ended with the option to get “tumblrpro (for free)”. all it did was put a top hat on your icon.

2015 - tumblr executivesuite/coppy: a copying machine appeared in the corner of your dash. it would offer tips on how to use tumblr, like clippy the paperclip used to do in microsoft word. as the day went on, it slowly broke down and died right in front of your eyes. many people hated him (but not me). you could also make a (small) spreadsheet. @executivesuite2016 is the official blog.

2016 - this is decision/lizard election/tumblrdecides: a parody of the 2016 US elections. there were 4 lizards (well, one of them turned out to be a salamander in a scandal) to vote for. the dash looked different and there was a live news report with election updates, as well as an election blog for each lizard. they all had their own slogans and you would get an "i voted" button after you voted that would get slapped next to your icon. there were built-in functions to make an election poster for your favourite lizard and to create a text post that supported your lizard of choice that autogenerated a statement for all your followers to read. imo tumblr’s april fools peak. @thisisdecision2016-blog is the official blog, @mop-2016-blog @wretchedtooth @timefordeborah-blog were candidates. rick also had a blog (rick-official) but that now seems to have vanished because he ended up dropping out of the election. mop won, if you're curious. by far the most elaborate prank tumblr ever did.

2017 - horse friend: a tamagotchi-inspired game where you had to take care of a little horse in the corner of your screen. it came with a randomly generated name, and you had to feed and clean up after it. if you didnt take good care of it, it died. you could then hatch (yes, hatch) a new one. there was also an option to look at the names of all your dead horses. this is now available to buy in the tumblr shop. @horse-friends is the official blog.

2018 - tumblcoin: a parody of cryptocurrency (this was the year bitcoin took off). you could ‘invest’ in tumblcoin, with which you could in turn buy things with to spice up your dash, including last year’s horse friend, coppy from 2015, and a frame for around your icon. you could share the amount of tumblcoin you owned in an automatically generated gif post which would be tagged #tbc2018 and #tumblcoin. @tumblcoin is the official blog.

2019 - @memories: this blog still functions the way it did on april fools itself! it's like mad libs, where it takes post templates and then adds in tags you use a lot and users you frequently interact with on your main blog. like a personalized shitpost bot.

2020 - group chat prank/@storybot: it was so hard to find info on this because it was contained entirely in the now-defunct group chat function, which no one used. i had to go through the notes of this post for information because no one cared enough to actually write anything explaining it. turns out, you could write a story with your mutuals by adding storybot to your group chat. it also kept working after april fools (well, up until the group chats were deleted) just like memories. many people missed out on it entirely because they did not use the group chat function.

2021 - tumblcryptids: tumblr allowed you to adopt “non-fungible tumblcryptids”, a parody of NFTs. clicking a button that said "Summon thy Tumblrcryptid" would spawn an image of a little blob-shaped creature with a short description, which would always read "Hi! My name is [randomly generated name]. I love [thing most people like]. I hate [thing most people dislike]. Like my parent, I can't get enough of #[tag from your main blog]." you could share them in a post, which would automatically add the tag #NFTumblcryptids to your post. and yes, people on the piss on the poor website freaked out about it because they thought they were real NFTs harming the environment. @tumblcryptidadoptioncenter is the official blog.

2022 - click-a-thon: when you clicked a light switch on your dashboard, a bunch of colourful things showed up, like a sponge you could move around, an "engagament meter", clickable buttons, and a “Summon Crab!” button, which would summon a crab when you clicked it. you could. the crabs, like horse friend, are still available in the tumblr store as of 2025. here's some screenshots. there were various ways to share your crab activities, which would all get tagged #april fools 2022. the prank was presented as a marketing technique created by Brick Whartley, a fictional businessman character created by tumblr, who (afaik) originated in a post on the official blog of the 2018 april fools prank, albeit originally in a different role. around this time he also started functioning as the mascot for tumblr's shop ( @emporium )

2023 - abstract reactions (emoji reacts): buttons were added to every post that allowed you to add emoji reactions, many of them based on tumblr inside jokes (horse as a reference to horse plinko/horse friend, vanilla for the vanilla extract meme, pikaman, bug for bug race, and brick whartley, who wasn't a meme but staff really wanted him to be). if one specific emoji was used a certain amount of times it would add an effect to the post, eg many cheese emoji reacts would cover the post in cheese. this was also attributed to Brick Whartley ("his" blog @brickwhartley also documented the day)

2024 - boop-o-meter: allowed you to “boop” other users who had opted in to the booping, like facebook’s poke feature back in the day. depending on how long you held the button, you would either boop, super boop, or evil boop. on the dashboard there was a counter for both how many times you had booped others and how many times others had booped you, as well as how many boops were given side-wide. when booping someone, an image of a cat paw appeared. you would get badges (which can still be used) for booping 1, 100 and 1000 times. if you gave/received more than 999 boops, the counter would switch to showing a three-letter word (see this post for specifics). this was brought back for halloween 2024 (as BOOp-o-meter. get it), with a ghost, skeleton and mummy paw. no official blog, but here's an official recap for april first from staff. i believe this was the only april fools prank that was mobile user friendly.

2025 - @fandom is running some polls, i guess

[purinfelix]

you're no good for me, but baby i want you - n. riki ✶⋆.˚

summary: after growing tired of his constant teasing you made up your mind not to give Niki anymore of your attention, but you should've known that he wouldn't let you go that easily - and is willing to go to desperate measures to get you just to look at him ──── delinquent Niki x class president reader || sfw but a little suggestive, kissing/making out, so much tension like so much, enemies to lovers sorta? || w/c: 2.7k

a/n: okay i'm trying to get better at writing longer fics/ones that actually have closure bc looking back i realise i kinda always leave u guys on cliffhangers LOLL - also i rlly tried to avoid making this too cliche given the trope i hope it worked !!! actually really like this one so i hope it doesn't flop rip

‘Bad boy’ felt too cliche - at least for your liking. You preferred to refer to Niki as what he was, a delinquent, a troublemaker, someone who skipped most of his classes and spent the rest dosing off or arguing with the teacher. But no matter what you called him you were sure of one thing, he pissed you off.

To be honest, you had absolutely no interest in the sorts of things a student like him got up to in his own time, but it was the fact that he insisted on dragging you into his business that irritated you the most. You weren’t sure why exactly he kept targeting you, maybe it was because he just wanted to mess with the class president or because you seemed like an easy target to him - whatever reason he had didn’t make it any less tiring though.

Skipping classes was one thing, but his constant breaches of uniform code meant that you were running out of warning slips - and patience. It didn’t help that whenever you did, he would only look you up and down with an amused smirk, brows raised as if daring you to continue telling him off - which only worked to make you stumble over your words.

That’s why you had made the decision to stop giving him anymore of your attention, and the most recent time you had seen him sporting his signature look - no blazer, dress shirt half unbuttoned and several silver earrings, you chose to ignore him. You simply walked past him in the hallway without so much as a passing glance, hoping it would tell him to stop wasting your time and causing trouble.

Little did you know, he would misinterpret your signs to mean the exact opposite.

The next morning when you were waiting at your desk you heard a wave of hushed murmurs coming from down the hall, and couldn’t help but feel partly responsible. A loud thud sent the classroom door flying open and a couple of his friends filed in with amused grins - and it was only when Niki followed them in did you see why. Not only had he gone and messily bleached parts of his jet black hair, but he now donned a piercing straight through his right eyebrow which, judging from the pink tinge surrounding it, was both brand new and self-made.

You were unable to stop your neck from craning as your eyes followed his figure, watching as he sauntered over to his desk in the back corner of the classroom, threw his books onto it and sat down. The expression on his face showed that he couldn’t care less about being there, but his eyes trained on you as if waiting for you to make a move.

You hated that he knew you so well, because before you knew it you were out of your seat and at the head of his desk, arms folded with a stern expression on your face. You can’t remember exactly what you said but it must’ve been harsh, and loud enough to summon the attention of almost the entire class, and your teacher who stormed into the classroom shortly after to tell the two of you off. It must’ve also been harsh enough to earn the two of you an after-school detention, which was your very first - though it clearly wasn’t Niki’s.

So that’s how the two of you had ended up alone, in an empty, hot classroom - waiting as the minutes of your detention ticked by agonisingly slowly. Irritated was an understatement. It was taking every ounce of self-control you had not to turn around and punch Niki right there and then. You kept your fuming to yourself, at least for now though, while you worked silently on an assignment, determined to at least make good use of being stuck here for the next hour or so - even if it meant spending it in a tense silence.

Niki didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, having sat himself in the chair right beside yours and kicked his feet up on the desk, twirling a pen in one hand as he hummed softly to himself. You were trying your best to ignore him, and he was trying his best to make that very difficult.

“What are you working on?” he asked curiously as he leaned in over your shoulder.

“Just an assignment,” you shot back curtly.

“Ah of course, what a goody-two shoes,” he scoffed as he sat back.

“Rather a goody-two shoes than a good-for-nothing delinquent,” you mumbled under your breath, though not quiet enough to escape his ears.

“A delinquent? Is that really what you think of me?” he asked in faux-offence, “I’m hurt.” You turned slightly, just enough to see the dramatic pout he had formed across his lips, his brows curving upwards and his piercing going with it.

“Whatever,” you huff, feeling both irritation and exhaustion rise in you, “it’s your fault we’re here in the first place anyways.”

“Oh yeah, my fault that you started a petty argument.”

“Your fault for dyeing your hair that stupid colour and getting that piece of metal jammed in your face!” You cry out, fully facing him now as you felt your face burning hot, “I mean seriously, all I did was ignore you once, and you go ahead and did something ridiculous like that?” Gesturing to his piercing and new hair, you can’t help but feel even more infuriated at the sight of his smirk which only grew as he watched you from half-lidded eyes.

“What makes you think I did it for you?” He asks teasingly, and you suddenly feel your bravado begin to crumble - he’s right, who are you to assume that?

“Well, I-” you stutter, but he interrupts you.

“Well maybe I did,” he laughs softly, “that depends on whether you like it or not.”

“That is so besides the point, Niki,” you whine, “it’s against uniform policy.”

“Oh c’mon, you think it’s a little cool,” he taunts, and you turn back around in your seat, chewing your bottom lip as you’re determined not to give him a response which you’re sure will only fuel his ego.

You sit in silence for a bit, and you can tell he’s watching you carefully in the way he leans in, keen eyes trained on your expression - almost as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking. But that’s a challenge even you’re struggling with right now.

He’s the one to break the silence again. “I am sorry about getting you a detention though, that wasn’t what I meant to do.” You blink in disbelief because for the very first time, he sounds almost as if he really means what he’s saying.

“Is that an apology?” you say, gasping to show your surprise, though this quickly dissolved into a soft laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t sit here and watch you sulk for the next hour.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling the tension between the two of you melt away at his apology, just enough for you to want to keep talking to him - even if it means neglecting your homework, for now. Your eyes move over his face, his sharp jaw, his eyebrow piercing glinting under the warm classroom light.

“Did it hurt?”

It’s a stupid question, you know, but it’s the only thing you can think to ask as you fiddle nervously in your seat. If you’re being completely honest, you do think it’s cool, you’ve always thought his piercing were cool - and right now you want nothing more than to reach out and feel them for yourself. But your common sense stops you.

“Well, duh,” he scoffs, sitting back in his seat as his eyes fix on yours, “figured a smart-ass like you would’ve been able to guess that.”

“Just asking,” you grumble defensively, though your curiosity urges you to keep talking. “If it hurt, why’d you do it?”

“Well, you like it, don’t you?” He asks, “that’s all the reason I need.”

You’re tempted to tell him off again, but something about his tone catches you off guard - it’s oddly earnest, and he says it with such a simplicity that makes you really believe that maybe he’s telling the truth and you’re unable to find the resolve to spoil this moment

“Can I feel it?”

He’s almost as shocked by your request as you are, and even as it leaves your mouth you’re unsure entirely why you’re asking it. His eyes widen in a way that you can’t help but find a little cute, even as you’re struggling to process your own thoughts.

“Sure,” he replies, a little too quickly, almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask him that, but can’t believe you actually did. You turn in your chair to face him, your arms coming up awkwardly to bridge the distance between you both but it’s clear you’re still too far.

You’re about to lean forward more in your seat to reach him, until you notice his hand coming down to grip the leg of your chair and it isn’t until you feel yourself moving and hear the faint screech of the legs against the floor that you realise that he’s pulling it - pulling you closer to him.

Once you’re close enough he stops, though his hand doesn’t leave the back of your chair, instead resting there as if trapping you in with him as he leans down as that his face is level with yours. You try not to overthink the way your knees are touching, or how this is your first time seeing him this close and how he’s even better looking up close. Carefully, you bring your hand and pray that he doesn’t notice the way it trembles, as your thumb grazes his thick brow gently. Even though you wish he didn’t, he keeps his eyes open and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you as your fingers close around the small metal ball.

“It’s cold,” you mumble, not sure what else to say to fill the air between you two.

“It’s metal,” he says matter-of-factly, letting out a small laugh at your fascination with it.

“You didn’t need to to do this just to get my attention, you know,” your eyes focus on the piercing as you speak, unable to look him in the eyes when admitting something that feels like a confession.

“I had to get you to look at me somehow.” You’re again amazed at how he can say such earnest things with such a serious face, and even as you look away you know his eyes are on you.

“Most people would’ve just said hi or something, not put a brand new hole in their face,” you sigh, fingers moving to tuck a stray strand of bleached hair behind his ear.

“Well most people wouldn’t be here now with you touching their face, so by my standards my plan worked better.”

“Did that plan have to include getting me my first-ever detention?” You ask in annoyance, though you can’t help but laugh softly at his simplicity.

“Well, not at first,” he admits, “but at least we’re alone, hm?”

“Because you need me alone to talk to me?”

“No, because I need you alone to do this.”

You’re pretty sure if you weren’t already leaning towards him you would’ve fallen backwards from the forceful way his lips crash into yours - and if not from that then the sheer shock of just that. Luckily for you though, he already has an arm snaked around your waist, keeping a hold of you and pulling you closer.

It shocks you though that, despite the initial force, Niki’s kiss is gentle, almost as if he’s easing you into something he knows you’re struggling to accept. He’s experienced, that’s for sure, but you can tell in his movements that he’s holding back from pushing you any further.

You don’t even realise it but your hands are cupping his face, caressing his strong jawline and pulling him closer to you. You open your mouth to talk but the only noise that comes out is a breathy gasp and if you weren’t so caught up in the feeling of his hands in your hair you might’ve stopped to feel embarrassed about how desperate you sound for him right now.

“Niki,” you mumble against his lips, unsure of what to do as you feel your mind struggle to comprehend what’s happening.

“Want me to stop?” he says in between heavy breaths, and even though it sounds like a taunt you know him well enough to know he’s being serious.

You shake your head in response, but decide to have a little fun of your own while you can. “When have you ever cared what I want?”

“Oh, you have no clue,” he hums in a low whisper as he leans back in.

“And when have you ever listened to what I’ve told you to do?”

“You’re right about that,” he smirks, pressing his lips to yours again, this time with the reckless abandon you’ve come to expect from him - almost as if he was waiting for your permission to let go. You thought you would’ve felt a little predictable, pathetic even, for having fallen so easily into his trap and giving him much more than just your attention at this point. But from the way his hands roam your body, grasping for more of you as he whines against your lips you smile to yourself at the realisation that really, he’s the one who’s fallen into your trap.

This sense of control is what finally calms your mind, even if it still struggles with just how ‘wrong’ all of this sounds against how right his lips on yours feel. The sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway however forces you to tear yourself away from him, though his hands don’t leave your body as you strain to figure out who it might be.

“Shit, it’s the teacher,” you say under your breath, pulling away from him to smooth down your skirt. Niki clearly doesn’t care, but still lets out a soft sigh as he hangs his head, leaning back in his chair.

“Tomorrow,” you continue suddenly, “I want the eyebrow piercing and the bleached hair gone.” You know you’re being harsh, but you also know that, given what just happened, you can’t afford to be nice.

“Wh-” he says suddenly, looking at you in disbelief, “I thought you liked them though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say firmly, “they’re still breaking like ten different uniform rules.”

“Just when I thought I’d finally broken your guard down,” he groans.

“Well, they’ve served their purpose already, haven’t they?” you taunt lightly, bringing a hand up to swipe at your bottom lip which you can feel is a little plump from him biting it. His eyes watch attentively as you do, and he lets out a soft laugh followed by a nod in agreement.

“You’re right,” he exhales, “but now I’m thinking if I keep them in I might keep getting lucky.”

“Niki,” you sigh.

“I mean, maybe if I had a reward for following rules I might feel more motivated,” he hums, looking away as he feigns innocence.

You pause, thinking to yourself for just long enough. “I’ll be studying in the library after school, maybe if you do as I say I’ll let you join me.”

“Studying? That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll be there,” he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile - one that you can’t help but share even as the same teacher who gave you both this detention comes in to tell you you’re free to go.

You watch as he swings his bag over one shoulder coolly, tossing you his signature smirk - only this time, it doesn’t just annoy you, it lingers, sticking to your thoughts in a way you don’t want to admit. Because you know you should be mad, you should roll your eyes and remind yourself that he’s still the same infuriating troublemaker. But as he walks away the only thing you find yourself wondering is if he’ll actually show up tomorrow, and worse, if a part of you wants him to.

[lyrefromthesea]

Please can I request pre-relationship hashira x hashira!reader, where they are sparing together and it becomes a bit suggestive 💙💙

Male pillars x reader - Sparing with benefits

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu , reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: suggestiveness

Tengen:

"you could just give up, there's no chance you could win against my flamboyant self!" he taunted, running around the courtyard with you.

you had been fighting for ten minutes and there was still no end in sight. you weren't a bad fighter, you've been promoted as a hashira some time ago, but Tengen was at advantage right now.

he was faster than you. he had been saving himself from your attacks by avoiding them every time. the smirk on his face only spurred you on more, wanting to win this fight and show him that you were a good fighter.

however, when you raised your bamboo sword for an attack and he turned around to dodge it, you felt yourself trip on a root. it had been sticking out of the ground, making you fall over.

surprised by what has happened, Tengen lost his own halt and fell backwards, landing in a sitting position. you felt yourself fall onto him, at least partly.

when you checked your surroundings, you found your head on his lap. your cheek pressed against his groin. meeting his gaze, you could see his cocky smirk.

"it was an accident! i didn't mean to.." you said, wanting to stand up instantly. this would definitely look wrong from an outsider's perspective.

when you tried to stand up, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pressing your cheek a bit more against his groin, only satisfied when you felt the bulge against your skin.

"just so you know, my wives had always found you cute enough for this.." he teased, his eyes staying on your widened eyes.

you pushed away, running away from his grip and off the training field.

Obanai:

he was proud of you for becoming a hashira. when he took you in as his tsuguko, he wasn't sure if he made the right decision, but he was sure now.

you were able to follow his movements, dodge his attacks and even make some of your own. your elegance captivated him and he found himself admiring your fighting style.

perhaps he had been diving in his thoughts too much, because when his attention was finally back on you, he was already on the ground.

your legs were on either side of him, straddling his body. heterochromic eyes were staring deeply into yours, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

"i win, Obanai." you said, looking down at the man. your hands were resting on his chest, leaning forward slightly.

his heartbeat was increasing under your hands, cheeks flushing. it wasn't the first time he noticed how beautiful you were, but your allure only increased like this.

"you.. you do.." he muttered, not being able to turn his eyes away from you. yet again, neither were you. you leaned down further, remaining with your faces only a few inches apart.

it would've been so easy to kiss him right now. however, feeling your hips rub against his groin, he couldn't stop his body from reacting, his hands gripping your waist.

"[name], g- get down.."

Rengoku:

"flame breathing. third form: blazing universe!" he called out, his bamboo sword coming at you with immense speed. you barely managed to block his attack - meaning you didn't do it.

your body flew a few feet away, landing on the ground. with a quiet grunt, you turned onto your back. "i give up.." you sighed.

however, there was no audible reaction from Rengoku. turning your head towards him, you wanted to know what's wrong, only to see his wide eyes staring.

he shook his head, running towards you and kneeling down. "are.. are you okay?" he asked, seeing you nod. he didn't respond, as if he knew something you didn't.

"just tell me, Rengoku!" you pleaded, feeling yourself enter a state of panic. did you lose a leg? it wasn't like him to behave this way.

he moved his hand closer, placing his hand against the side of your stomach. your eyes widened, looking down at yourself, staring at your torn uniform.

not only the right side of your shirt, but also the entirety of your right pant leg was missing. you instantly sat up, trying to cover up.

"i didn't know, i will-" you tried excusing yourself, but fell silent when he squeezed your waist slightly, attention moving back to him.

"i'll bring you back." he answered, taking off his haori and pulling it over your form. it didn't help covering your leg, but at least your upper body looked a bit more presentable.

he scooped you into his arms, both your legs around his waist. you rested your chin on his shoulder, wishing to disappear. the whole situation was embarrassing, and even worse, you had felt warm when he touched your skin unhindered.

his hand held you up by your thighs, his grip on your right thigh a bit stronger. you could feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your leg, glancing up at him.

"you.. you're really soft." he quietly said, not able to hide his red face from you.

perhaps the whole situations had it's advantages.

Sanemi:

"stop running! just admit defeat!" he shouted after you, determined to get this fight over with. the only problem: you were extremely fast. you managed to dodge his attacks every time.

"never!" you answered, seeing him try to attack again. you were ready to dodge his bamboo sword, but were shocked to see him drop it mid-attack.

his hand shot towards you instead, quite literally knocking you down with his harsh hit. your back made contact with the ground, Sanemi tackling you down immediately.

"i win." he said, smirking at your defeated form. you tried freeing yourself, not able to push up with his hand on your neck.

"i didn't give up yet." you huffed out, feeling him squeezing your throat lightly - he was warning you. only that his warning didn't work as intended.

a quiet whimper escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. he had heard the sound, you knew it.

"oh? didn't know you were into the rough treatment." he smirked - teased. your reaction was immediate, pressing your knee up and right against his crotch.

he groaned, letting go of you. he clearly hadn't expected you to do that, especially not after you pushed him away and freed yourself.

"didn't know you were into that, Shinazugawa."

"you-"

naturally, another fight started right after.

Giyuu:

how did this happen? thirty minutes of fighting just for your bamboo sword to be kicked to the side by him. he had been too fast for you, leaving you unable to react.

your back was pressed against the wall, wide eyes staring into his. he had caged you between the wall and his body, his form towering over you.

ocean eyes were deeply staring into yours, his hand pressing against the wall behind you. he couldn't tear his gaze away from your body, not when you were presented right in front of him.

"you lost." he stated, as if it wasn't obvious to the both of you. his eyes narrowed, his other hand moving towards you.

"if this had been a fight with a demon, you would've died." he said, making you feel like prey under his eyes. he placed his hand on your chin, thumb nearly grazing your lips.

"don't lose focus." he uttered, but his eyes had long broken their contact with yours. he was watching your lips instead, as if he was debating on a kiss.

"i wont." you answered breathlessly, getting his attention back on you. he let go of your chin, stepping away and picking up your sword.

"let's try it out." he taunted, neither of you really focusing on winning or losing now.

Gyomei:

this fight was unfair to begin with. without a doubt, you were one of the strongest swordsman in the corps. you've served as a hashira for three years now, but no one could win against Gyomei.

naturally, you admitted defeat when he threw you over half the lake, immediately asking whether you're fine or not.

your head broke through the water, gasping for air. the water was freezing cold, but you told him you're fine.

he still made the effort to help you out of the water, drenching his own clothes in the freezing liquid.

"are you sure you're okay?" he asked, big tears already rolling down his face again. you avoided your eyes from his form, not trying to appear inappropriate.

"i'm fine." you answered, looking at your own body. both of your clothes were quite see-through, giving you a greedy sight of his muscles and abs.

looking down at yourself, your clothes weren't any better. you thought of yourself as lucky, not wanting to live with the shame of letting him see so much of your body.

"come, it's freezing in here." he told you, pulling you into his arms and out of the water as he made his way out of it.

what you didn't know, was how his fingers could feel everything that you were seeing. your clothes stuck to your skin, not leaving much room for imagination.

he stepped out of the water, but instead of letting you down, his head tilted towards yours, foreheads nearly touching.

his hands squeezed your body, millions of thoughts running through his head. "you're.." he said, but he stopped, not wanting to do something he might regret later.

"you're still wet, we should get some dry clothes.." he told you instead, putting you down again, his hand sliding against your curves for a moment.

you watched him walk forward, your lips parted. was it wrong that you had hoped for him to continue?

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument pt.2

pt1 here

pt3 here

love and deepspace

characters: Rafayel, Xavier

Rafayel

Stubborn, petty, and a total brat are the words that perfectly describe Rafayel during arguments. It doesn’t help that you’re as stubborn as he is, but most of the time you manage to find the middle ground. Except tonight. Tonight is the night you got fed up with his attitude and the argument it caused was just awful. For an hour, both of you argued something so stupid but he wasn’t backing down and at this point, it was getting so tiring you just wanted to put an end to this.

“You know what” You throw your hands in the air “I’m done. I’m going to sleep”

Rafayel scoffed muttering something about you running away from an argument under his breath. However, his face dropped when he saw you entering the living room with a pillow and a blanket. He rushed to you with such an offended look.

“Excuse me?”

“What?” You barked at him.

“Wha- seriously? what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Child’s tantrum, honestly”

You stopped making the bed on the couch and just looked at him unimpressed. The gesture made Rafayel scoff once again and retreat from you.

“You want to be petty? be my guest. I’m going to sleep in our room, in our bed”

With that, he left you and slammed his door on his way.

“Such a child” you mutter and lay down on the couch, too agitated to sleep, replaying the argument in your mind over and over. You both said horrible things to each other and you wanted to run to him and apologize, but what hurt more than an argument is how he left you here and he, himself, went to sleep. After hours of beating yourself up for tonight’s events, you finally fell asleep not knowing Rafayel was staring at the ceiling of the bedroom feeling just as guilty if not more. Also, he hates to admit it, but he cannot sleep without you, so with a defeated sigh he made a decision.

Sunlight stirs you awake in the morning. Your neck is sore from an uncomfortable position on the couch. With a groan, you turn around and open your eyes to be startled by a purple ball right into your face. Blinking, to adjust your eyesight you realise it’s Rafayel’s head. He’s sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the couch and a blanket around his shoulders.

“You have to be kidding me” you mutter with disbelief “Rafayel”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes as he opened them.

“Oh, hi”

You just look at him dumbfounded before bursting out laughing.

“Shut up, will you?” He grumbled.

“Oh my god, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He stayed silent and got up from the floor, with you following his suit.

“To what? to admit you were right? kind of… I mean you were wrong in some aspects… okay, fine you were right… and what else? to admit I couldn’t sleep without you?” He avoided your eyes and you couldn’t miss the blush spreading on his cheeks “Because I couldn’t… sleep without you, I mean”

You pinch his cheek before kissing him making his already red face even more red.

“I’m sorry too”

He quickly regained his composure walking past you.

“Yeah, yeah… c’mon let’s make breakfast”

And you follow him with a chuckle.

Xavier

You have to try really hard to have an argument with Xavier. Both of you are in perfect sync and hardly ever disagree with each other. Therefore, arguments are rare. But not nonexistent. Take tonight, for example. Xavier doesn’t need shouting and screaming to get his point through. His face devoid of any expression and cold voice make good enough job. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re on fire, and his calm nature, reassuring other times, only fuels your fire. Finally, you make the decision that you don’t want to spend any more time with him tonight… or until you calm down. So you take your blanket and set up a makeshift bed on the couch.

Xavier doesn’t pay you any mind. He didn’t even notice you reentering the living room as he started playing his video game to unwind from the previous argument. An hour passes, then another. At last, he’s had enough and turned off the video game you’ve been cursing in your mind past hour. He expects you to be asleep in your room so imagine his confusion when he sees you on the couch, still not asleep. Xavier then shrugs before going to the bedroom and coming back with his pajamas on.

“Move” he says when he walks up to you.

You turn to him.

“What?”

“Move, I’m sleepy”

“Then go to sleep”

“I’m trying to, but you won’t move” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. After a moment of hesitation, you move to make room for him. He silently slides under the blanket and since the couch is too small for both of you, he positions you in a way that you’re lying on top of him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I couldn’t sleep”

His hand started to caress the back of your head.

“Because you’re mad at me?”

“Because I’m mad at you”

A sigh escapes his lips.

“I didn’t mean… whatever I said. I don’t know, I don’t even remember what I said”

That made you giggle.

“Neither do I. But I’m sorry… for what I said”

“Yeah, me too”

You both stay silent after that. His hand stops caressing you after a while.

“We can go to bed if you want to”

You suggest but a soft snore Xavier releases lets you know that it won’t happen, so you just accept your fate.

[nanamidays]

Husband Nanami Kento lived up to his reputation as the perfect husband. 

Husband Nanami Kento prides himself on being a good husband. He wants to fulfill all your needs. He'd say that's one of his love languages.

Husband! Kento Nanami, who thinks it's not a big deal when he hands you the deed of the house and it's under your name only. He thinks, what kind of husband would he be if you didn't own your home? 

 Husband! Kento Nanami, who only laughs when you tell him about the reactions your friends and family had when you told them. 

Months later, Husband! Kento Nanami and you get into a petty argument regarding the placement of the new coffee machine. 

You playfully say, “My house, my rules.”

Husband! Kento Nanami just says, Yes, my love. We’ll try it here and see how it goes. 

Husband! Kento Nanami will follow your rules because you are the head of the Nanami household, after all.

Oh my goodness, Ken! I’m just joking. I think you’re right. The coffee maker will have more room over there. 

Plus, my love, you paid for the house, so really you should have the final say,” you tell him with a shy expression. It's something that's been gnawing at you lately.

Husband! Kento Nanami, who reassures you it's YOUR house. As your husband, he knows he has a say, but ultimately, he trusts you with the final decision. Whether it's something small or big.

Husband! Kento Nanami reminds you it's legally yours. So you can do what you please with your house. Did you pay a single cent towards the house? No. Will he use that against you? Never!

Husband! Kento Nanami is appalled when you suggest he add his name under the deed. He reassured you that the house was a gift from him to you.

Husband! Kento Nanami says you being with him is payment enough. On the contrary, he is eternally indebted to you. You make him feel like no one else in this world.

Husband! Kento Nanami makes sure to reassure you that you don't need to feel indebted to him. As your husband, it's his job. He must provide for you. One he would happily work overtime for.

You give, Husband! Kento Nanami a passionate kiss. Before you can pull away, he kisses you again. He looks into your eyes and tells you he loves you. 

Husband! Kento Nanami makes all your worries go away. Because you believe him.

I love you too, my perfect Husband Kento Nanami. Then you kiss his nose and giggle.

Husband! Kento Nanami buys you a vacation home in Malaysia a month later. The deed is under the name Y/N Nanami. He intends to take you next week.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: omegaverse, omega reader, careless alpha husband, marriage problems, poor communication

♡ GN reader

He’s a little reckless sometimes—not always paying attention to the feelings of those around him, but he means well, you’re sure of that.

He’s just a little high-strung, is all—doesn’t really have the time to think things through.

He’s always been like that—ready for just about anything and everything anyone would throw his way, and just sort of expecting everyone else to be onboard. He’s an Alpha, after all—it’s not in their nature to worry or look back.

All your life, he’s been the leader—all you others could do was chase after him and just hope on your life to keep up. And as an Omega, you were comfortable like that—with having someone to follow. It felt natural to you—safe and good and correct.

But when he started courting you, you admit being a bit skeptical—weren’t sure if it would work the same way, not sure if it even could. Being mates is different, after all. You’re supposed to be in tune with one another, and you weren’t sure if you’d be heard or just end up being bulldozed.

But you figured, since you weren’t too big on making decisions anyway, that you’d just go along with it, and it would be fine. You’d put your trust in him and follow his lead, and maybe that would be enough.

And it was. Everything worked out perfectly—for the most part. You married in the spring and moved into your new house the day after. He’s a good husband and nice man, deserving of the respect he garners, and he’s successful. A true Alpha. Perfect on all fronts.

What more could an Omega ask for?

Well… suppose it wouldn’t hurt if he listened sometimes. Or no, that’s not fair. You’d have to speak up first in order for him to listen. Still, you think… he should be able to tell without you saying anything. 

You don’t even know what you’re complaining about, really… It's not as if he’s done anything overtly bad. You just feel… well, you suppose you just feel a little left out. He’s so dominating in everything he does—you just end up being swept along in the process. He doesn’t ask for your input, nor do you give it. Things just happen the way he wants them to before you’ve even agreed. You don’t even think he recognizes it himself, how he makes decisions you’re supposed to be making together on your behalf.

He bought the house without telling you, for starters. But it was a wedding present and a nice surprise, so you’re not mad about it exactly. But given how big a step it was, it still feels strange to have been on the outside. Then he sprung that vacation on you and even called your boss to schedule your leave—only a month after your honeymoon, no less. Not to mention the wedding itself—how all the arrangements were already done before you’d even sat down with the wedding planner, of whom was his choice. In some ways, or in many ways, you felt as if you were just a part of the decor.

But it’s not as if you aren’t happy—because you are. And it’s not as if you don’t love him—because you do. It’s just well… You know it’s not exactly fair, but you’re beginning to feel a little taken advantage of… as if he doesn’t even care about you or your thoughts and feelings as long as you’re keeping him happy.

But you can’t keep feeling that way without telling him, you decide. You’re sure none of it is his intention. You’ve never taken an interest in decision-making, so why would he think you’d want to? For all his prowess, you can’t exactly expect him to read your mind, either.

So, tonight’s the night you’ll finally say something. You want to be included. If he’s hiring a new maid, you wish to be a part of it. If he’s buying a new TV, you want to help pick out which one. If he’s taking you out to dinner, you want to be informed, preferably beforehand. Even if all he’s doing is getting his hair cut, you want him to tell you about it.

“Hello, welcome home,” you greet once he staggers into the bedroom, looking tired yet no less neatly put together than always.

“Hello, my sweet,” he mirrors, voice gruff with the toils of the day as he marches over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

It’s late. You’ve already gotten dressed for bed, having been just about ready to cut your losses and postpone the talk for tomorrow.

He could have told you he was working after hours. No, he should have.

You were just about to switch off the night lamp and go to sleep—but find yourself feeling redetermined now.

This was just another one of those things you can bring up as an example, after all.

“I-”

“God, I missed you today. Felt like work took an eternity,” he groans, hurriedly removing his suit with sloppy movements, throwing his jacket on the floor, shirt quickly following before he’s back on you. “Give me those pretty lips—I’m starving.”

He takes your mouth with his, one hand steadying him against the bedframe while the other works on unbuckling his belt, hunching over where you lay.

You put your hands on his bare chest to distance him, asking, “Can it wait a bit?”

He drops his pants on the floor and climbs on top of you, face buried in your neck while muttering, “No, not really. Been waiting all day.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something-” you try again, to no use.

“No talking tonight—none, except pillow talk.”

He says it with a smile. You feel it against your neck—his teeth and tongue and the heat of his voice.

You’re sure he means it playfully, and yet you freeze, feeling a little sick.

“But I really need to—”

“Omegas are supposed to obey their Alphas, you know.” 

His touch isn’t rough, but it’s not without force, but more than that it’s those words that make your heart jump and then stutter. 

You hold your breath, but it goes unnoticed by him or maybe ignored—you’re not sure which. It shocks you—scares you even, but then, following the original freight, your heart sinks, and you feel nothing but disheartened and disappointed.

And then, even a little angry.

“Oh…” you mumble, lying still beneath his onslaught. “I guess I thought I was yours ‘cause I wanted to be, but I see now…” Your brows cinch with many feelings between them. “I had it wrong.”

He halts then—struck with a sudden pang of guilt maybe, or perhaps just puzzled by your words. Whatever the case, the former rush he’d been in is gone, and he looks down at you—finally.

“What? What do you mea-”

“No, no, never mind. I was out of line,” you brush him off—harshly, and he blanches, going rigid. “Do what you want—you’re the Alpha, after all—so by all means.”

You turn your head to the side and lie still.

Eyes prickly and throat tight, you push the words out all stiff and hoarse, “I have no right to stop you, and even if I did, it’s not like I could. But who cares, right? Nothing I think matters.”

“Baby, you know that’s not what I mea–” he tries.

“Then what did you mean?” you all but bark, snapping to face him again. But however pointed your glare is, there’s no mistaking the now visible tears brimming in your eyes.

Seeing it, he stiffens even more, undaring to move. Trying to make his voice softer, “Don’t cry.”

But his acts of comfort are far from sufficient.

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

Good, you think—it better. He made you uncomfortable when he ignored your wishes, so why shouldn’t you? And ignore him in turn?

“Funny that, isn't it?” you continue. “The only thing I have against you is a pesky few tears. Would you like me to turn around, maybe?” 

You know you’re guilt-tripping him—and you’re not sure why or if it’s the right thing to do, but even so, you couldn’t find it in you to stop either—no, not until you had punished him, for some reason.

“If you hide my face in a pillow, maybe you won’t hear it either–”

“Please stop,” he finally begs, bowing his head. “I’m sorry.”

You stop. You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s apologizing for. And though the thought of asking him to clarify strikes you, it doesn’t feel important. Those weren’t the words you wanted to hear.

You sigh then, trying to calm yourself down. “I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to see me—to listen—I need you to respect me.”

He looks up again, this time with a deeply remorseful expression warping his face. “I do. I’m sorry-”

“Really?” you question. It's a little harsh, you admit, but it's what you need, “Then get off me and go sleep downstairs.”

He’s rigid under your admonishment. Shocked by your claims, yet begrudgingly ashamed by the truth in them. 

You were right. He wasn’t paying attention. And by the looks of it, he hasn’t been paying attention for a while.

 “Okay,” he ends up agreeing.

Sliding off the bed like a shunned dog, he walks back to the door he’d only just come through a moment ago.

Keeping a hand on the doorknob, he looks back—head still bowed.

“Good night.”

You feel a little bad about how it turned out, but you steal yourself. You wanted to be alone right now. In fact, you think it would do you both some good.

“We'll talk tomorrow. Good night.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae, Yukimiya, Baro, Aiku ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[mrsriddlenott]

~Teach Me, Please~

Bsf!JJ Maybank x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.

{masterlist} • {PART TWO)

————

“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has, I would be flirting non-stop if I was with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”

“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life and JJ gets around a lot he has plenty of better options. Hell he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”

You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow pogues, and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.

You knew they didn’t mind, they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could but it was pointless, you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as them. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.

And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch infront of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he heard you properly.

“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilt beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.

“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.

“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.

JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him but over the years he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for Jonh B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first, he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.

“On you Jay, come on don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this was ethical. JB would surely frown upon this and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.

“Well I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.

“But I asked you to show me JJ, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.

And his resolve snapped.

He tossed his half full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau making the way to the bedroom he made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.

“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not.”

Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.

“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”

“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”

“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.

“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.

“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.

“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.

“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”

Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.

“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.

“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”

Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.

“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.

“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.

“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.

“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.

“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”

“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”

“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.

“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.

“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”

“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”

“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.

“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.

“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.

JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.

JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.

“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.

“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“

A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”

“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”

Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.

He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.

“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.

“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.

“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.

“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.

“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”

“Forever.”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.

“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”

JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.

“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.

“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.

“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.

His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.

“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.

The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.

JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.

——————

I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?

PART TWO: Another Lesson?