#Chic Zone

[myqualities]

Source: http://neversaynevernick.tumblr.com

[jetlagmag]

Source: http://motivationsforlife.tumblr.com

[vaspider]

Simply put, there is a ton of fascist-chic cosplay involved. Once an officer joins the Grays, they get a special uniform designed by their tech overlords. The Grays will also donate heavily to police charities and “merge the Gray and police social networks.” Then, in a show of force, they’ll march through the city together. “A huge win would be a Gray Pride parade with 50,000 Grays,” said Srinivasan. “That would start to say: ‘Whose streets? Our streets!’ You have the A.I. Flying Spaghetti Monster. You have the Bitcoin parade. You have the drones flying overhead in formation.... You have bubbling genetic experiments on beakers.… You have the police at the Gray Pride parade. They’re flying the Anduril drones …”

Everyone would be welcome at the Gray Pride march—everyone, that is, except the Blues. Srinivasan defines the Blue political tribe as the liberal voters he implies are responsible for the city’s problems. Blues will be banned from the Gray-controlled zones, said Balaji, unlike Republicans (“Reds”). “Reds should be welcomed there, and people should wear their tribal colors,” said Srinivasan, who compared his color-coded apartheid system to the Bloods vs. Crips gang rivalry. “No Blues should be welcomed there.”

While the Blues would be excluded, they would not be forgotten. Srinivasan imagines public screenings of anti-Blue propaganda films: “In addition to celebrating Gray and celebrating Red, you should have movies shown about Blue abuses.… There should be lots of stories about what Blues are doing that is bad.”

Balaji goes on—and on. The Grays will rename city streets after tech figures and erect public monuments to memorialize the alleged horrors of progressive Democratic governance. Corporate logos and signs will fill the skyline to signify Gray dominance of the city. “Ethnically cleanse,” he said at one point, summing up his idea for a city purged of Blues (this, he says, will prevent Blues from ethnically cleansing the Grays first).

[afloweroutofstone]

I recently learned that in March 2011, the same month as the large-scale protests against Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad which eventually turned into the Syrian Civil War, Assad paid US public relations agents to get his wife a puff piece in Vogue about how she's a genius girlboss with great fashion sense and a heart of gold

Asma al-Assad is glamorous, young, and very chic—the freshest and most magnetic of first ladies. Her style is not the couture-and-bling dazzle of Middle Eastern power but a deliberate lack of adornment. She’s a rare combination: a thin, long-limbed beauty with a trained analytic mind who dresses with cunning understatement. Paris Match calls her ��the element of light in a country full of shadow zones.” She is the first lady of Syria.

Syria is known as the safest country in the Middle East, possibly because, as the State Department’s Web site says, “the Syrian government conducts intense physical and electronic surveillance of both Syrian citizens and foreign visitors.” It’s a secular country where women earn as much as men and the Muslim veil is forbidden in universities, a place without bombings, unrest, or kidnappings, but its shadow zones are deep and dark. Asma’s husband, Bashar al-Assad, was elected president in 2000, after the death of his father, Hafez al-Assad, with a startling 97 percent of the vote. In Syria, power is hereditary. The country’s alliances are murky. How close are they to Iran, Hamas, and Hezbollah? There are souvenir Hezbollah ashtrays in the souk, and you can spot the Hamas leadership racing through the bar of the Four Seasons. Its number-one enmity is clear: Israel. But that might not always be the case. The United States has just posted its first ambassador there since 2005, Robert Ford...

The 35-year-old first lady’s central mission is to change the mind-set of six million Syrians under eighteen, encourage them to engage in what she calls “active citizenship.” “It’s about everyone taking shared responsibility in moving this country forward, about empowerment in a civil society. We all have a stake in this country; it will be what we make it.”

In 2005 she founded Massar, built around a series of discovery centers where children and young adults from five to 21 engage in creative, informal approaches to civic responsibility. Massar’s mobile Green Team has touched 200,000 kids across Syria since 2005. The organization is privately funded through donations. The Syria Trust for Development, formed in 2007, oversees Massar as well as her first NGO, the rural micro-credit association FIRDOS, and SHABAB, which exists to give young people business skills they need for the future.

[kittenintheden]

Where were you, when I was new?

AO3 Version Here bonus gift art by tavplum!!

Even the masters have to start somewhere.

Rating: E Word Count: 5.6k Content: 18+, Virgin Astarion, Pre-Canon Astarion, Law Student Astarion, Young Astarion, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Intercourse, Gender-Neutral Partner (3rd Person), Unnamed Partner (3rd Person)

Astarion Ancunín is twenty years old, a law student, and a virgin. At least, he is for the time being.

It’s not as if he doesn’t know he’s an exceptionally good-looking young man, not as if no one’s ever asked before. Not as if he’s completely inexperienced. He adores kissing. Flushes with pleasure when someone plays with his long, elegant ears. Participates in a little hand stuff here and there. He even received head and gave it back, once, at some party.

Really, it’s simply that he’s had other things to do – other lessons to learn, other books to study, other concerns about his future position – and no one ever seemed worth sharing himself with fully. At least, not the first time. What can he say? He has standards.

It’s neither here nor there, to be honest, because he’s deep in his notes from a recent lecture when a friend puts a hand on his shoulder and draws his attention away. He grumbles, annoyed at being yanked out of his zone.

“What, arthehole?” he says from between his teeth because he doesn’t want to drop the pair of gold-rimmed glasses that dangle from his mouth by one temple. He never did quite outgrow his oral fixation.

His friend tilts their chin toward the large double doors that offer entry to their university’s library, which is where they’re currently holed up. “Look sharp,” the friend says. “The mock trial team from Neverwinter just walked in.”

Astarion sits up and shifts his gaze to the group of unfamiliar students following behind an enthusiastic prefect who seems to be giving them the full tour of the Grand College of Baldur's Gate. They certainly look like standard Neverwinter fare – wizard-chic robes, scrutinizing stares, Northern city attitude. He leans his cheek on his hand, lazily sizing up the competition.

There’s one that stands out and he quirks his mouth up as he observes. This student is smiling brightly, slowly spinning in place to take in the shelves around them with wonder. Their clothing is simpler than the others, more street-friendly than cosmopolitan.

“Huh,” he says to himself.

“I think we can take them no problem,” his friend says. “But what do you say about running a bit of an insurance policy? Some friendly distraction, if you will.”

Astarion glances their way. “I’m listening.”

The friend points to someone toward the front of the line. “I’ll take that one. You know I’m a sucker for tieflings with blue… everything.”

He laughs. “Have at. I think…” He folds his glasses and slips them into his pocket, training his eyes on the student who stuck out to him before. “... I’ll deal with that one.”

“Good man,” says the friend, holding up a hand for him to clasp.

***

Some time later, Astarion leans casually against a support beam in the university’s canteen with his supper in hand, waiting. It isn’t long until the Neverwinter students begin to filter in and he quickly spies his target.

They’re taking in the room and the people around them, eyes soft and gentle as a cow’s. Elven, like him, he thinks. They look over their shoulder and happen to catch his eye for a scant moment. He tilts his head and they give a polite smile before stepping forward in the queue.

Astarion examines his nails closely during the several minutes it takes the group to retrieve their food and find seats. As the elf walks along the line of chairs, he makes his move.

Before they even notice his approach, he steps just in front of them and then startles as they knock into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” they say, mercifully righting their tray before anything spills. “I didn’t see you.”

“No, no,” Astarion says, smiling bashfully. “My fault entirely. I didn’t look to see where I was going. I’m terrible that way. Please, join me?”

He pulls out the nearest chair and gestures for them to sit. They blink at him, wide-eyed, then lean around to look for their friends, then back at him in slight confusion.

“Ah, sorry, that’s presumptuous, I shouldn’t-”

“No, it’s fine,” they say, their face brightening with another grin. “We’re supposed to be here to meet other students, anyway, so. Yeah. Yes, I’d be happy to join you.”

“Wonderful,” Astarion says, pushing the chair in under them as they take his offered seat. Behind their back, he casts a look over at his friend across the way. They waggle their eyebrows at him and go back to chatting up their blue tiefling. Astarion smirks.

He schools his features back to neutral as he takes his own seat, giving the Neverwinter student a tight smile, playing the part of the nervy introvert superbly. Right on cue, his glasses slip down his nose a bit and he adjusts them back into place.

“Do you actually need those?” his guest says, their cheek already full of food.

Astarion’s smile drops for a second before he snatches it back and gives a laugh. “What?”

They chew and swallow their bite before pointing at his face. “The spectacles. I was just wondering if they were for show or…” They pause and their eyes go even wider than usual. “I apologize, that’s really rude of me, forget I said anything.”

His surprised laugh is genuine this time. “You know what? I don’t actually need them.” To illustrate his point, he removes them, folds them, and puts them in his jacket pocket. He leans in like he’s about to tell them a secret and quietly says, “Honestly, I just think they make me look smart.”

Immediately, they burst out laughing and he joins them. The conversation flows smoothly, after that.

“What are you doing all the way down at the Gate?” Astarion asks, placing a forkful of his own food in his mouth to chew as they answer. He now knows their name, their year, that they adore snow foxes, and that they are indeed visiting from Neverwinter.

They pick off a piece of their roll, then another. “I’m here with the mock trial group. You know that one? We playact cases like you’d find in the courts. We’re here for a competition with the Gate’s team.”

“Really?” Astarion says, the picture of innocence as he leans in closer, fascinated. “Like theater? I didn’t even know we had one of those.”

“Oh, yes, it’s a lot of fun.” They’re animatedly waving their forgotten roll around as they speak. It’s cute. “We each take the side of either the prosecution or the defense and we sort of, you know, duke it out.”

Astarion giggles. “Maybe I should come watch this thing. Which side are you on?”

“Defense,” they say with a wink. “And we’ve got a killer case.”

“Is that so?” Astarion’s grin spreads wide over his face. “I’d love to hear more.”

***

It had been quite the productive evening. His companion spilled the details of nearly everything that mattered, from their witness list to the evidence they hoped to sneak in last-minute with a legal loophole. Astarion flirted up a storm, keeping them talking. And talk they did, punctuated with laughter and light touches and a general aura of friendship .

Astarion grimaces as he organizes his notes for the trial. It should begin in an hour and he’s been hiding out in the nearby lecture hall that serves as the makeshift judge’s chambers. If he’s really, truly honest with himself… he feels awful. His opponent had been sweet, friendly, and genuinely enjoyable to be around, if a little… south of brilliant. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize he actually kind of liked them. Would maybe consider flirting with them for real, even.

If only they hadn’t been so naively trusting . That was their own fault, wasn’t it?

He swallows the sour taste in his mouth.

Around then, his friend swaggers into the room with a blooming bruise on their neck and a sleepy smile. They flop down in the seat beside him.

“Good night?” Astarion asks, cocking an eyebrow at them.

“Blue everywhere,” they say as if they’re doped up. “Everywhere, Ancunín.”

Astarion chuckles and shakes his head. “But did you learn anything useful?”

His friend doesn’t answer and Astarion clears his throat to prompt them. They focus back in on him and say, “Erm, we were supposed to be learning something? I proposed running distraction.”

“Oh for the gods’ sake.” Astarion rolls his eyes. “No matter. I got all the details from my date, anyway.” He taps his notes against the desk to straighten them and slips them into his satchel.

“You mean their team captain?” his friend says.

Astarion freezes with his hand on the latch of his satchel. Turns his head slowly to gawk at his teammate. “Their. What?”

The friend shrugs. “Guess I did learn one thing, after all. My companion said you were sitting with their team captain. Thought it was a pretty bold choice.” They wink at him. “Good for you.”

“Shit,” Astarion whispers.

His friend frowns, but before they can ask, he’s up and pulling open the door that leads to their mock chambers. The Neverwinter team is already well underway on their setup. He storms down the center aisle and sure enough, there’s his dining companion, looking polished to a fine shine with their hair properly styled and robes of deep blue setting off their elven complexion.

They turn just in time to catch him glaring at them with his jaw clenched.

“Glad you could make it,” they say with a much slyer smile than they wore last night.

Astarion has never been so simultaneously angry and infuriatingly attracted to someone in his life.

***

The first trial of their three-day competition is, naturally, a complete bust for Team Baldur’s Gate. Astarion is completely off his game and operating off of a strategy that proves totally useless. The Neverwinter team absolutely trounces them.

He got played. He got played and he’s furious about it.

Worse, he’s impressed by it. Gross.

Afterward, they come up to him to offer a genuine, friendly handshake. Astarion reluctantly accepts it.

“I’d apologize,” they say. “But honestly, I let you take the lead completely. You didn’t have to listen to a single word out of my mouth.”

Astarion sniffs. “Yes, well. Congratulations. You won.” He leans into their space ever so slightly. “This time.”

They laugh and it sounds almost the same as it did the night before. “Come on, let me buy you a drink.”

“You don’t have to rub it- wait, what?” Astarion says.

They shrug. “Secret’s out now, I guess, so I don’t see any reason for us to pretend that we didn’t enjoy one another’s company.” When Astarion doesn’t immediately respond, they put a hand on their hip and smirk at him. “At least, I enjoyed yours.”

“Well, I…” Astarion huffs and looks askance, then back at them. “I don’t even know which parts of you are real , so. I can’t say.”

The elf reaches out a finger and taps him right on the center of his chest. “You’re the one who saw someone from one of the top universities in the realm and assumed I must be some foolish bumpkin who’ll spill their guts to the first pretty face that comes along because I smile too much. I’m the one who should be concerned, I think.”

“Ugh, okay, fair,” he says, tossing his head. Then he smirks back. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Come on,” they say with a laugh and a tilt of their head toward the exit. “Let’s get that drink.”

***

Hours later, Astarion stands in front of the tiny vanity in his dorm, turning his face to examine his reflection. His cheeks are flushed from a second and then a third drink, his curls looking a bit flat at the end of the day. He pulls back his lips to examine his teeth, making sure the wine didn’t stain them. Fine. He looks fine.

He huffs at his reflection. Normally, his confidence in his appearance is, one might say, inflated . Tonight, he’s feeling unusually self-conscious about it. He pokes at the moles under his eye and grimaces.

It had been a marvelous time. True to their word, his fellow captain had bought him the first cup of cheap wine. He’d pitched in for their second round, and they’d each decided on a third. After agreeing that tonight would involve absolutely no discussion of the next day’s case, they simply let the conversation take them where it would, and took them it did. 

It was… easy. Instinctive. He told them all about leaving his terribly boring hometown behind for the call of Baldur’s Gate, determined to polish himself to a high shine and enjoy everything the city life had to offer. They told him that Neverwinter was a beautiful, sparkling metropolis, but woefully lacking in people who weren’t head-and-shoulders up their own arse.

Astarion fidgets with the wooden comb and brush laid out on his vanity, smiling. Wine loosened their tongues a bit more and they’d given into the compulsion to openly flirt with one another, and it had been… good. Very good. It’s been some time since he’s felt genuinely interested in spending an evening with someone this way. If anything, he thanks his dates for the delightful makeout session and goes on his merry way.

He runs his fingers along his bottom lip, remembering being partway into that third cup and snatched up with the overwhelming desire to kiss them. The air around them felt heated and heady, their laughs going lower in pitch as the night wore on, their eyes half-lidded when they looked at him.

He’d wanted to. He’d wanted to so badly. More than he could ever remember wanting to kiss anyone. And he’d let his nerves get the better of him.

They’d bid their goodnights, he’d come back here, and now he was flopping down onto his too-hard single bed with a huff, covering his face with his hands. He sighs and drags them over his skin, looking at his wall covered in parchment, his reminders and notes to himself everywhere, a few tickets to events he wanted to remember pinned here and there.

He reaches out and taps the flyer advertising the mock trial competition, feeling a slow grin spread over his face. They’d bested him today, but tomorrow… tomorrow’s another story.

***

The look on their face when Astarion delivers his final arguments to the judges is delicious. He’s back in the game, fully and completely, using every bit of performative flair to make sure all eyes stay on him. When he wraps it up, he pays them a smug glance and they’re looking at him with lips slightly parted.

Better yet, they’re blushing .

He positively beams.

Baldur’s Gate comes out victorious, leaving the teams one-and-one. Tomorrow will decide the competition.

Tonight, they all go out together to play.

The Neverwinter team is desperately competitive and worth every bit of the name they’ve made for themselves on the university circuit, but they also love to party. The two groups find a rager of a soiree happening at the winter house of one of the Upper City students. There’s dancing, and drinking, and no small number of heated exchanges.

Astarion doesn’t waste the opportunity to rub elbows with anyone notable – he has long-term goals, after all – but most of his attention is devoted to spending as much time as possible with his new Neverwinter friend.

They share a dance or two on the trellised patio, purple and white wisteria hanging down all around them and perfuming the air. Nothing salacious… at least, not at first. That second dance ends up a bit close, with their hand on his chest and his just the tiniest bit too low on their hip for propriety.

In the twilight, they look into his face, their own expression open and affectionate, and it hits Astarion again – that overwhelming desire to kiss them. His heartbeat quickens, fluttering his pulse up along the side of his neck, and his breath catches. Heat swirls through him from the place their hand sits on his chest.

This is ridiculous. He’s never had a problem kissing anyone else before.

He’s never wanted to kiss anyone like this before, though. This thing between them… it’s chemical. Magical.

The music drifts away and they drift apart.

He does not kiss them.

***

Day three of the competition dawns and it’s the fiercest one yet. Every member of each team is out to win and they bring their very best to the table. The professors and other staff acting as the competition's judges watch the back and forth with raised eyebrows, thoroughly impressed by their students’ passion.

And no passion is so intense as the passion between the two team captains, who pace around one another like a pair of territorial wolves, seeking any weakness at all. They stand on either side of a long table, making their cases back and forth. Occasionally they address the judge, but clearly this is a battle between the two of them.

“The evidence is crystal clear,” the Neverwinter captain states, eyes narrowed. “This man is corrupt, feeding information to the highest bidder with complete disregard for any life ruined in the process. It is unconscionable, and the court must see justice through.”

Astarion slams his hands down on the table for effect and leans closer, eyes on them. “The evidence reveals he feared for his life, for the lives of his family. He performed these misdeeds under duress. The true culprit is not in this courtroom. And that…” He pauses for effect, letting the tension stretch. “... is why I move for a mistrial.”

There’s a bark of laughter behind him from his teammate and the room goes nearly to shambles under the sudden upswing in feverish whispering. Astarion grins.

Astarion stands his ground.

Astarion wins his requested mistrial .

In the end, the final judging declares Baldur’s Gate the winner of the day, but Neverwinter the overall mock trial champions – decided by a single point.

The entire mock chambers breathes a collective sigh of relief for the end of a battle well fought and new friends made. Astarion’s teammates are swarming him, slapping his back and praising his performance. He’s grinning ear to ear and looks up just in time to see the Neverwinter captain come barrelling through the crowd to catch him in a hug. He gasps and instinctively wraps his arms around them in return.

After a solid squeeze, they stand back and put their hands on his shoulders. They’re flushed with the fight, with the win. Their eyes shine a bit in the light.

“Well done,” they say, beaming. “You were incredible.”

Astarion gulps and manages to pull on a smile. “Congratulations on your win.”

“You’ll be at the party tonight?” they ask, looking between his eyes.

“Of course,” Astarion says. “I'll see you later.”

***

And he doesn’t miss it.

Astarion stands in the mock chambers again some time later, the air far less tense and much more celebratory. The teams and their judges and staff mingle amid the catered trays of sandwiches and pitchers of cheap wine. He looks around with two cups in hand, seeking out his new friend. Friend. Friend?

When he spots them, he simply can’t stop the smile pulling at his mouth. He wants so badly to be cool tonight and they make it so hard.

He takes a breath and approaches them. They turn from the person they’re currently chatting with and light up when they spot him. Their companion looks at Astarion and takes their leave with raised eyebrows, clearly aware that their conversation is now over.

Astarion clears his throat and offers a cup. They accept it.

“It’s really very bad,” Astarion says with a scoff. “But it’s something.” He takes a sip.

They continue to smile coyly at him as they bring their own cup to their mouth.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Astarion says, looking into his cup so he doesn’t have to see their face.

There’s a pause, and then softly, they say, “Yes. Late morning. We’re hoping to make it back to Neverwinter before the snows start on the road.”

Astarion takes another drink of his wine and sets it down before he looks back at them. “That’s unfortunate,” he says with a soft, sad laugh. “Because I’ve rather liked the time we’ve spent together.” He pauses and swallows. “I’ve rather liked you .”

They tilt their head, wine held aloft in one hand, and let their smile widen.

When they don’t respond, Astarion says, “That is, you’re very clever to be around. Fun. Fun to be around? I like to be around you because you’re just…” He looks around desperately like he’s going to find help for this. “... incredible.”

They turn and set their cup down on a nearby bench.

Astarion rambles on, “I only thought maybe you might be, I don’t know, interested in letting me show you what else I’m capable of.” High-pitched laugh. “Outside the courtroom.” Clears his throat and blinks rapidly. “If you want.”

With a giggle, they grab him by the lapels and pull him in, pressing their mouth fully to his in a kiss that makes him immediately swoon, his legs going a touch weak as he leans against them for support. The chatter around them goes muffled in his mind as they both adjust for a better fit and he feels his ears flush pink to the very tips.

When the kiss breaks, Astarion can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his fingertips, in his lips, in his… oh, that’s going to be an issue very soon.

They catch his eye and say, “You want to get out of here?”

He’s never nodded his head “yes” so quickly in his life.

***

They don’t make it anywhere close to the dorms.

Now that the seal’s been broken, Astarion simply can’t keep his hands off of them. They escape into the hall together and run a few steps down the way when he crashes into them, wrapping his arms around them from behind until he gets them to turn so he can kiss them again, both hands on either side of their head as they stumble.

They run a ways, kiss a ways, run a ways, and so on until Astarion yanks them down a side hallway behind the library, looking from door to door. When he finds one he likes, he gives their hand a tug and they use the momentum to slam against him until his back hits the door. The pair of them laugh deliriously as they kiss again, tongues testing and discovering, but then they break from his mouth to kiss toward his ear.

The moment they suck on the lobe, his cock goes fully and painfully hard, hips bucking out as he whines into the air beside them.

“No, no, not there,” he says in a breathy whisper. “Not unless you want to call it a very early evening.”

They bury their face in the side of his neck, giggling, and he scrambles his hand around behind him until he finds the doorknob and they both go tumbling inside.

Astarion collapses onto the floor with his companion on top and doesn’t even think before he kicks the door shut with one foot and reaches up to bring their face back to his for another kiss. This time, he uses a thumb to stroke along the length of their own elven ear and then groan into his mouth, grinding down hard against him.

Oh gods, this is happening.

He wants this to happen.

On impulse, he reaches down their bodies until his hand's between his companion’s legs, gently cupping them there, and they sit upright, head thrown back in the very low magical lantern light of this filing room, and rock themselves against it. He does his best to give them the friction they’re seeking.

A minute or so later, they tilt their head forward and meet his eyes, their eyes stormy and lustful. They take his hands and pull them both back to standing, backing him up until he slams up against the side of the nearest filing shelf. Fingers fumble with the buttons of his doublet and he tries to help, getting them undone enough that they can reach their hands inside and scrape their nails over his ribs through his undershirt. Astarion’s chest arches forward, goosebumps prickling over his skin as he makes contented noises through their kiss.

Then they kiss down his neck, giving him a little nip near the collarbone that makes him squeak, which he attempts to cover with a purr. They keep going until they kneel on the floor and work at the lacings of his trousers. His tongue feels so heavy in his mouth, and he’s about to say that they don’t have to do-

But then their mouth is on his freed cock and he throws his head back, swooning into the overwhelming sensation of wet heat surrounding him. He’s done this before, and it was fine, but it wasn’t like this . Maybe it’s because he’s so attracted to them? Maybe it’s because they’re doing… that thing… with their tongue…

He whines and pulls in a deep breath, trying to keep his wits about him, because he highly suspects that one-sided head is not how they want the night to end. Before he reaches a dangerous place, he puts his hand on their head and gently slows them. They pull off of him and look up with a smile, their eyes the exact mix of mischief and sexiness that caught him in the first place.

No one’s ever made him feel like this. Not once.

This one, though. They’ve wound their way around the very core of him.

Astarion gulps and says, quiet and shy, “I haven’t done this before.”

Their eyes go a little wider. “Really?” they say, sincere. “You?”

He laughs. “I mean, I’ve done what we just did, but I haven’t… done what I think we’re about to do.”

They give his cock one more long lick that makes him sway a bit before they stand back up and kiss him. He melts into it. He likes them so very, very much. It hurts that they’re leaving, but this is right. He knows it is. These past few days and nights feeling them take root in him… they’ve all been leading to this.

“Well, then, I’m honored,” they say, and they sound like they mean it. “If we’re about to do what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yes, please,” he says, kissing them again.

They each separate and disrobe, their clothing building a haphazard pile between them. Soon enough, they swipe the old files off the nearest table and his playmate faces it, bidding him closer with a smile over their shoulder, almost exactly the same as the first one they ever paid him in the canteen only a few nights ago.

Astarion takes his cock in his hand, still spit-slick, and puts his other hand on their hip. They lean over the tabletop, palms flat on the surface, and spread their legs for him. His breath stutters, his legs go weak beneath him. He can’t quite believe he’s here.

Beneath him, they shift their weight so they can put their hand over his. He’s shaking, just a little.

“We can stop if you want to,” they say, their words reedy with need but sincere beneath it.

“No,” Astarion says. Licks his lower lip. “I want to do this with you.”

They give a light laugh. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He nods, then realizes they can’t see him. “Okay. Okay.”

His fingers move from their hip to the middle of their back and he draws the pads of his fingers down over their spine. They shiver under the touch and Astarion swallows hard. His fingers trace all the way to where their arse begins to curve. He shudders in a breath and brings two fingers to his mouth to suck, then reaches between their legs to touch them there, apply pressure, rub small circles.

They arch and hum beneath his ministrations.

Astarion holds his breath and pushes his fingers inside them, losing his footing just a bit as he feels their heat, the pulse of them around his fingers. When he has his wits back, he moves his fingers in and out, pumping slow, listening to their breath beneath him for cues on what he might be doing right or wrong. He turns his fingers a bit, mapping their body, and they give a shuddering sigh.

Their insides grow warmer to the touch. Are they supposed to do that?

“More,” they huff. “You can do more now.”

“Right,” Astarion says, withdrawing his fingers and moving in closer, his arousal pulsing with anticipation. It feels like crossing into a new world, going somewhere that will well and truly mark him an adult. And he’s ready.

His cock rests at their entrance and with one more breath he guides himself inside with his hand. There’s a brief resistance, a pleasant pressure against the head of him, and then he’s half inside. His hips instinctively give a second thrust and then he’s fully sheathed.

He gasps and curls forward into their body just as they arch into his. Astarion’s arm wraps around their waist and he holds them tight.

“Okay?” they gasp again, their legs quivering.

“You feel…” he pants, pressing his forehead to the space between their shoulder blades. “Gods, you feel so good.”

They laugh and reach a hand behind them to tangle in the hair at the side of his head. “You too. You feel good, too.”

Astarion huffs out his breath and tries to place a sloppy kiss to their back, but it’s so hard when this feeling is coursing through him and his thoughts are going haywire because everything is different, now. He’s different, now.

He draws his hips back and rolls them forward again.

They sigh with it, signaling their approval.

So he does it again. And again. And again.

Together they build a rhythm. Every once in a while, they help Astarion angle himself this way or that, teaching him how to make a partner feel, make them shudder, make them moan. He finds a spot near the front of them that makes them squirm and he files that knowledge away. They take his hand and guide him round to their front and show him what to do, how they like to be touched.

He’s a fast learner. Always has been.

Astarion pants as he attempts to commit every second of this experience to memory: being buried deep inside, feeling the shudder and movement of his partner, the way they flush and bloom, the unbearably sexy sounds that float from their throat to his ears. Most of all, he wants to remember how this feels , how much he enjoys the person he’s sharing this with. His heart thuds in his chest, his ears flush with arousal and affection, and he is so happy to be exactly here, in this moment.

The pair of them grow slick with sweat against one another in the unventilated room, their cries stifled and sultry. The minds are willing, but the bodies are young and eager. The passion building between them swells, shivering, laser-focused on the place where they meet.

Their rhythm goes chaotic and Astarion only barely holds on long enough for his partner to fall over the edge before he goes tumbling after.

For a scant moment, the world goes paler than he’s ever seen it.

Then they’re both whimpering through the other side of their peak, movements gradually slowing to stillness.

After they’ve had an awkward disentanglement and a more awkward cleanup, they look into one another’s faces, and then they’re kissing again, touching again, losing themselves again. What youth lacks in experience, it makes up in vigor.

They do it once more, face to face this time. Slower, longer. Astarion learns what it’s like to soul kiss someone while making love to them. He likes it. Very much.

Some time later, Astarion leans against the table and stares down at his doublet while he does up the buttons. Beneath his lashes, he peeks up and sees them looking at him, their mouth titled up in a sweet smile. They’re already fully dressed.

“What?” Astarion says airily. His cheeks are warm and he’s positive he’s rosy pink with a blush.

“You are so pretty,” they say. “And funny, and clever. You’ve been lovely company.”

Astarion raises his eyebrows and looks askance, unable to stop grinning. “Yes, well. You’re delightful, as well, and you certainly gave me a night to remember. Thanks, for that.”

It goes unspoken between them, the knowledge that this is the last and only night. They’re young, they’re dedicated to their studies. There won’t be time for lovesick letters and pining, nice as it might be. No. Best that they keep this memory contained in crystal, sparkling.

His opponent, his friend, his lover walks closer and puts a finger under his chin and Astarion allows them to tilt his face so he’s looking at them. Then they lean in and give him a tender kiss.

When they break away, they stay close and look him in the eye. “What you gave me was a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

Astarion smiles. “Nor I.”

With one last kiss, they say their goodbyes. “Goodnight, Astarion,” they say. “I do hope we meet again, one of these days.”

“Me too,” he says, watching their retreat. “Goodnight, Tav.”

[theblackfemininesociety]

⏰ Its Time To Level Up Your Wardrobe: Everything You Need to Slay This Fall / Winter ! 💋

Hello Besties and Future Besties of B.F.S,

Tis’ the season to dress to impress! As the holidays approach, it's time to embrace vibrant colors, luxurious fabrics, and fashionable accessories that capture the festive and wintry spirit. From cozy gatherings to glamorous parties, each occasion calls for a unique outfit that showcases your personal style. Whether you opt for a classic little black dress, a chic tailored suit, or a playful holiday sweater, remember to accessorize with flair. Statement jewelry, elegant shoes, and a stylish clutch can elevate any look, making you shine at every event. Embrace the season's trends, mix and match textures, and don’t be afraid to step outside your comfort zone.

This is where your BFF (us, duh!) comes in to make sure you have the best fashion looks while you create unforgettable memories!

👩🏿‍🎨 Let's start with the color schemes:

As the seasons change, it's the perfect time to refresh your wardrobe with inspiring color schemes that capture the essence of fall and winter. Think warm earth tones, rich jewel hues, and cozy neutrals that not only evoke the beauty of nature during these months but also create stylish, layered looks. Use the color palettes above as a guide to mix and match pieces, from chunky knits to tailored coats, ensuring your outfits are not only chic but also reflective of the season's spirit!

It’s a Cheetah-licious Fall 🐆

Animal prints (done the right way) can add flair and dimension to your looks! This season we want you ladies to experiment with cheetah/leopard prints! Whether it's a boot, jacket or scarf, we encourage you to mix and match these bold patterns with your existing wardrobe. Pair a cheetah print scarf with a solid-colored top for a chic look, or wear leopard print boots with a denim skirt for an edgy vibe. Don't be afraid to layer different prints together; just keep the colors complementary for a stylish effect (see season color schemes above) . Accessories are key, so consider adding a statement bag or bold jewelry to complete your outfit. Embrace your wild side and have fun with these trendy prints!

😻 Fur Trimmed Galore:

Last season, we discussed the importance of elevating your jacket selections (see post here) we mentioned how fur was giving ✨Rich Aunty💰✨ just like the Sherling jacket was highly recommended last season. We urge you to look into ANY clothing item with a fur trimming to elevate your look.

👛 Meet Tweed, Plaid’s Rich Bougie Sister:

As the crisp air of fall and winter settles in, tweed clothing emerges as the quintessential choice for those seeking both warmth and sophistication. This elevated plaid fabric, with its rich textures and intricate patterns, effortlessly elevates any ensemble, making it a staple for the season. Tweed’s timeless elegance not only provides comfort against the chill but also adds a touch of refinement to your wardrobe, whether you’re dressing for a cozy gathering or a formal event. Embrace the allure of tweed this season and step out in style, showcasing a look that is both classic and contemporary.

👢Soft Girl Suede:

This winter, let’s embrace the cozy charm of the "soft girl suede" look – it’s the perfect blend of comfort and style that will make you feel effortlessly chic! Imagine stepping out in those stunning suede high boots paired with an oversized shirt and a flirty skirt, topped off with some chic gloves to keep you warm. Suede not only looks fabulous, but it also adds a luxurious touch to any outfit, making it a must-have for the season. So let’s elevate our wardrobe and wrap ourselves in the soft, dreamy textures of suede – trust me, you won’t want to miss out on this trend!

🥋 The Power of a Belt:

A little beltology is needed this season. Point number one: do not underestimate the power of adding a belt to your look. Whether it’s a simple leather belt to add on to your trousers or a glamorous statement belt to put over your blazers or dresses, please get your belt game up! If you can splurge on a designer belt this season. This will add a little extra touch to your outfits! Accessories are a must so have fun and don’t overthink it 😉

🪢 Dare to Mix and Match Fabrics?

As we embrace the cozy charm of fall and winter, let’s elevate our layering game by mixing fabrics for a stylish twist! Imagine the warmth of a chunky knit sweater paired with the sleek elegance of a silk blouse, or the rugged appeal of a denim jacket layered over a soft cashmere turtleneck. Mixing textures not only adds depth and interest to our outfits but also allows us to play with colors and patterns in exciting new ways. This season, let's break free from the ordinary and create unique looks that reflect our individual styles. So, gather your favorite pieces, experiment with combinations, and watch how effortlessly chic our ensembles become—because layering isn’t just about warmth; it’s about making a statement!

👔 Layering with Corsets:

As the chill sets in and our wardrobes start to cozy up, it’s the perfect time to add a little flair to those capsule favorites! 🤎 This fall and winter, let’s take our style game to the next level by layering corsets over our beloved staples like a crisp white button-up, a chic long-sleeve dress, or even that classic blazer jacket!

Imagine the magic: a structured corset adds a touch of sophistication and a hint of edge, transforming your everyday looks into stunning outfits that turn heads! 🤩 Whether you’re heading to brunch, a night out, or just want to feel fabulous while running errands, this layering trick is a must-try!

🎨Colorful Monochromatics:

As we embrace the cozy vibes of fall and winter, why not add a splash of fun to our wardrobes? This season, let’s say goodbye to the dull and hello to colorful monochromatic looks that are not only stunning but super easy to pull off!

Imagine stepping out in a chic matching set or coordinating pieces that make you feel like a fashionista without the fuss. ✨ The best part? You can choose one or two pops of color from the fabulous color schemes above and effortlessly build outfits that turn heads! 💥

Whether you’re vibing with warm earth tones or cool hues, monochromatic looks can totally work with our core colors too! So, let’s mix and match, layer it up, and have fun with our outfits this season.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Connect With Us 🫶🏽🫶🏾🫶🏿

📸 Follow us on Instagram !

💬Join our ‘Ladies Room’ Group-chat on Discord !

📲 Follow our Facebook page !

[winedarkthoughts]

how to submit

↳🔒 pairing: dom!jimin x sub!fem.reader (feat. taehyung and jungkook)

↳📓 genre: bdsm!au, slight angst + fluff (aftercare)

↳☕ word count: 6.8k

↳🍳 summary: after countless unfulfilled nights, you finally cave and seek out the services of a professional dominant to meet your needs.

↳🕶 content warnings: anxiety, sex work, mentions of internalized kink/slut shaming, pre-established boundaries, master/sub dynamics, blindfolds, rope bondage, touch starvation,

↳🍕 a/n: inspired by transference by dark-muse-iris on ao3.

You never thought you’d ever regret arriving somewhere early. Until this exact moment.

It gave you too much time to overthink it all. It being the fact that, in just a few minutes, you’d be discussing the details of your very first professional BDSM session.

You chose a table on the cafe’s sunny patio instead of inside, since the chatter outside meant a lower chance of any other patrons overhearing the quickly approaching conversation. A conversation you never thought you’d actually be having with a real person. Not face to face, at least.

You’re clutching your iced coffee in your hands, using the chill to ground you.

Honestly, you’re impressed with yourself for going through with this, for giving yourself something you’ve always wanted. If you can manage to get through the initial nerves, maybe you’ll even allow yourself to enjoy it.

Just as you’re about to check the clock for the twenty-sixth time, you hear someone approaching your table. Several someones.

Throat momentarily closing, all you can think is don’t freeze, don’t freeze, don’t freeze. You can’t make yourself look up until they’re hovering at the edge of the table, waiting for you to acknowledge them.

First your gaze meets their shoes. Two pairs of sneakers and one pair of black Chelsea boots. You only force your eyes to move any higher until you hear one of them say your name in a questioning tone.

A beat of silence...that becomes much too long.

You take a deep breath, swallow hard, and think of the only string of words that helps you push yourself out of your comfort zone.

Fuck it.

“Hi,” you finally respond. “Yes, that’s me. Please, have a seat.”

They take you up on your offer with polite, and slightly relieved, smiles.

“I’m Jimin.” The man wearing the boots says cheerfully, extending a hand for you to shake. He’s dressed in a button-up coat, blonde hair styled up out of his face.

He slips the chic black sunglasses off his nose, revealing a pair of kind brown eyes. He’s very attractive, almost unfairly so. It makes you want to avoid eye contact.

The one wearing a white t-shirt and backwards cap makes that easier by introducing himself next.

“Taehyung,” he says, shaking your hand as well.

He’s gorgeous too damnit, with black hair curling at the nape of his neck under his hat.

Move on, move on. Immediately averting your eyes, you turn to the third man.

“I’m Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you,” he says shaking your hand firmly.

You’ve got to be kidding. Wide, doe eyes, long brown hair hanging in front of his face. He’s dressed in joggers and an oversized sweatshirt, all black.

Every single one of them is extremely attractive. You can’t tell if it makes this whole thing easier or harder.

“Thank you all for meeting with me,” you say, looking at each of them very briefly before returning your eyes to your drink.

“Thank you for contacting us! We're excited to discuss some details,” Jimin replies, sounding enthusiastic.

Your gut does a little flip.

You’re reminded of the fact that before scheduling this initial consultation, you’d spoken at length with Jimin online about your preferences for the session. But there’s something about being a faceless avatar, about hiding behind a screen, that gave you enough courage to talk openly about your fantasies. In-person was another story.

The fact that the three of them had all agreed to meet with you, had all agreed that you’d be “a good fit,” was somehow just as unnerving as it was reassuring.

It made perfect sense for all of them to be in the know about their clients, they were business partners after all, and you should be glad to hear that they were considering taking you on, but something about being the one with all their cards showing...it makes you squirm.

Maybe he senses how nervous you are, because then Jimin is suggesting that they go order something themselves. Jimin and Taehyung get up to go inside the cafe, leaving you alone with Jungkook. 

You’re equally relieved and nervous at the fact. On one hand, it discourages you from making a hasty, anxiety-fueled escape that you’d most likely regret later. On the other hand, you now have to make conversation while simultaneously pretending that you aren’t sweating straight through your clothes. 

Stealing a glance, you watch him brush the fluffy hair out of his eyes. He looks at you warmly, calmly.

There’s something about Jungkook that makes him a little less intimidating compared to Taehyung and Jimin. Maybe it’s his oversized clothes or his doe eyes. Either way, you feel a little less apprehensive around him.

“So, how’d you hear about us?” he asks, saving you from the awkward silence. You suppose they must be used to dealing with nervous newcomers.

“Oh umm...google.” 

Mmm hmm “google.” That’s the short version. You don’t mention how it took you weeks to simply type “BDSM” plus the name of your city into the search bar.

Not to mention the hours spent staring at the glowing screen in an otherwise dark room (secrets seem safest in the dark), plucking up the courage to finally admit that you have kinky desires, let alone book a consultation.

“Oh yeah? Most people seem to find us through social media,” Jungkook replies.

Yes, you’ve looked into their social media platforms. They’re quite popular on Instagram and TikTok. They don’t show their full faces in their videos though, only partially. You suppose that makes perfect sense if you want to retain some anonymity or have a side gig, but after seeing how attractive they all are, you can’t but think that they’d be even more popular if they—

“Is this your first time?” Jungkook asks. It must’ve looked like you were spacing out, because he’s tilting his head trying to catch your gaze.

You meet his eyes for a moment before shifting your focus down to your fidgeting hands.

“Mm hm. Yup.”

“First time engaging in kink or first time with a professional dom?”

Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. When your eyes flick up to follow the action, he’s still watching you with that warm smile on his face.

It’s hard for you to believe that the endearing man sitting in front of you is a “professional dom,” as he calls it. Especially when his form is engulfed by his humongous clothes, sleeves hanging well past his wrists.

You don’t realize that he’s asked you a question until he cocks his head to the side, waiting patiently.

“Oh! Umm, sorry. Kind of both I guess,” you answer.

He chuckles, and all you can think is oh god he’s laughing at me oh god this was a bad idea this—

“You don’t have to be so nervous, you know,” he says reassuringly. “I know our website says we can be selective with our clients, but we already think you’d be a good fit. I mean, Jimin was pretty much sold after he read your responses to the prompts.”

You remember answering those prompts. After you’d mustered up the courage to reach out to them, the application process began with an individual profile and a questionnaire. You remember being equally impressed and intimidated by their attention to detail.

Most of the questions were pretty basic (kinks, preferences, boundaries), but towards the end they delved far deeper than you expected, asking things like why does BDSM appeal to you, what’s your own definition of a healthy, consensual scene, what made you seek out the services of a professional dom, etc.

And yes, maybe you got a little carried away with your responses since no one had ever expressed interest in them before, but obviously it benefited you in the end.

A bit of tension eases inside your chest, along with an exhale of relief.

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” you breathe out, cracking your first real smile, and Jungkook returns it with earnest.

“So, um, how long have you guys been doing this?” you ask, finally starting to find your voice after Jungkook shared that bit of comforting information.

“Five years now. Really, it’s crazy how time has flown by,” Jungkook says. “It started out as a hobby. I met Jimin and Tae at a Fetish Con, and we just instantly hit it off.”

You try and fail to imagine Jungkook’s sweater and joggers switched for latex and chains. It’s a little hard to picture him being assertive at all, really.

“We started growing and networking, and soon it turned from a side gig to a real business! We’re really lucky to get to do what we love for a living.”

His eyes shine with passion, and it’s clear that he genuinely enjoys his work.

It reassures you even more. One of the reasons you’d never engaged in any kind of kink before was because of a persistent fear of the other person feeling burdened by your desires. You’d never felt comfortable enough to divulge any of your kinks in case your partner was only going along with it because of you and not truly enjoying it themselves.

By using the services of a professional dom, it was much more likely that they would derive just as much pleasure as you during the experience. And you wouldn’t have to feel guilty because you were compensating them for their time.

“So, how long have you been interested in this kind of stuff?” he asks, voice filled with good-natured curiosity.

In an instant, you’re brought back to every sleepless, unfulfilled night. Every time one of your past partners couldn’t get you to cum, every time you were left wanting more after vanilla sex.

That same ache, the ache that comes with wanting something you’re ashamed of, creeps right back into your mind. An itch left unscratched for too long.

You’re brought back to the glow of your laptop screen in the dead of night, fingers hesitating over the keyboard in your desperate search. At first, a search for like-minded people so you wouldn’t feel so alone. Then, eventually, for someone willing to scratch the itch itself.

Jungkook brings you back to the present by fiddling with his earrings.

“Umm...awhile,” you finally reply.

Even though your response is brief, Jungkook still nods his head in understanding.

“Vanilla just doesn’t do it, huh?” he asks playfully.

“No, not really,” you say, chuckling along with him.

“Sometimes...” you begin, trying to find the words to describe it. “Sometimes it’s not even about sex at all. Sometimes it’s about the catharsis, you know? I just want to turn my brain off sometimes, give someone else the reins, if that makes any sense?”

Jungkook nods, a knowing smile on his lips.

“I think we’re gonna get along real well,” he says.

It’s then that Jimin and Taehyung return with their order, placing various drinks and pastries on the table.

“Caffe latte and butter croissant,” Taehyung says, passing said items to Jimin.

“Hot chocolate and cinnamon roll,” Jimin replies, passing said items to Taehyung.

“And a cold brew with a peanut butter cookie,” Taehyung finishes, passing said items to Jungkook.

You notice that Jungkook never told them his order. Either they took a lucky guess, or they must know each other pretty well.

“Everything going okay over here?” Jimin asks, shooting you another radiant grin.

You can only hold eye contact for a few seconds, feeling blinded. They’re so handsome it’s almost criminal.

“Mm hmm,” you mumble, sipping on your coffee to distract yourself.

“Good, good,” Jimin replies, running a hand through his hair.

 He stirs a few sugars into his latte, lazily swirling the spoon as he scans you up and down.

“So, were you looking for recurring services?” he asks.

Your hands tighten around your cup.

Yes, yes you are. But is that too much to ask? Will that scare them away? Do they even do that sort of thing?

Clearing your throat, you remind yourself why you’re here. Fuck it.

“Mm hmm,” you affirm with downcast eyes, fighting the shame bubbling up in your throat. “If that’s okay with you guys. If the first session goes well, I mean. You know, if you do that kind of thing. And if you’re willing, you know.”

You hear them chuckle.

“Of course!” Jimin says, cheerful as ever.

You don’t see it, but he’s been trying to catch your gaze ever since he sat down.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself,” Jimin jokes. “For the first session, we usually recommend a one-on-one scene so you can get comfortable.”

Now you’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, honed in on every word they’re saying despite avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Okay, sounds good,” you reply.

Jimin tilts his head to the side, an amused smile on his face.

He can tell that you’re nervous, and that you’re shying away from his gaze. But you have nothing to worry about, if only he could express that with his eyes if you’d just look at him.

“Do you have any preference when it comes to who conducts your first scene?” Taehyung asks.

They all know that Jimin usually volunteers for the first session. He’s the best at planning and easing in the newbies, establishing the sacred trust that makes their job so fulfilling. He always enjoys chipping away at the exterior, no matter how tough, to get at the soft center that just wants love and acceptance and relief.

You shake your head, still looking anywhere but their faces.

“Alright then,” Jimin says, immediately deciding that he wants to be the one to break down your walls and give you what you really need.

“So all that’s left is the consent forms, since you’ve already completed the questionnaire,” Jimin continues, handing over a few sheets of paper.

Oh god, it’s really happening. Holy fuck...

You can hardly believe it. Heart beating fast and loud enough to worry that they might hear it, you take the forms and scribble out the last few signatures.

It’s okay you dumb bitch, you hear in your head. Just calm down and don’t fuck this up.

Jimin calls your name and you whip your head up, only to avert your eyes immediately.

“Sorry, sorry!” you blurt out almost instinctively. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“No worries!” Jungkook replies, tilting his head to the side to try to catch your gaze like Jimin is still doing.

But your eyes dart around to avoid looking at any of them.

You’re a tough nut to crack, all three of them will admit that much.

You don’t see it, but Taehyung and Jungkook look at each other, sharing a knowing smile. They all enjoy a challenge, especially when the challenge presents such a compelling reward. Because from the looks of it, you share all of the same interests, values, and boundaries that they're compatible with.

Once you hand back the forms, Jimin pulls out a black composition notebook.

Taehyung and Jungkook know what that means. Now you're getting into the thick of it, the juicy details.

Jimin always takes detailed notes, preferring to flesh out the scene in writing so it practically comes alive under his hands. Taehyung and Jungkook will take occasional notes, on their phones or on post-its, preferring to listen and let their imagination fill in the gaps. But Jimin finds a particular joy in acting as the main orchestrator of each session.

Your first scene will be first and foremost about building trust, Jimin tells you.

"We'll get you nice and comfortable with the dynamic, exploring what works best," he explains enthusiastically, pen twirling in his hand.

The scene will be bondage-focused, nonsexual, with Jimin as your dom.

There's a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and it isn't helped by the fact that Jimin still keeps trying to hold eye contact with you.

The four of you chat for a while longer, discussing the finer details. Jimin advises you to wear comfortable clothing, and to show up well-rested and hydrated.

You can't believe this is actually happening.

"I should probably let you know," you begin, hesitantly. "I have an anxiety disorder, and there is a possibility that I might have some sort of...attack."

They're watching you so intently, and their eyes are filled with nothing but openness and understanding. You're not used to it.

"That's perfectly fine. We're quite familiar with working with anxiety. If you have an attack or feel one coming on, we'll be there to help you through it. Make sure to bring your medication, if you take any," Taehyung advises.

You nod, mostly to yourself, making a mental note to bring extra pills to the session. You're hoping that the scene will be a temporary relief from your anxiety, but there's always the possibility that your mind will find a way to sabotage that.

"Thank you for letting us know," Jimin says, giving you another warm glance.

It makes a different kind of warmth bloom in your stomach, the warmth of understanding and acceptance.

You sign a few more forms, discuss a few more details. Then the four of you are shaking hands and saying your goodbyes.

You walk away from the cafe with a racing heartbeat, equal parts nervous and excited.

You're early again, sitting in your car in the tiny parking lot. Their location is in a downtown neighborhood of old, cottage-like houses that have been converted into small businesses, all painted neutral shades of blue and white.

The sign by the driveway reads P.K.J. It's their surnames (Park, Kim, Jeon), nondescript and unassuming. Though if you were to look at it a different way, the P could very well be a cursive D, and the J could be a swirling letter S. DKS, Designed Kink Scenes. The name of their BDSM service.

So you know you're in the right place, and the minutes are quickly ticking by.

It's a cute little place, with a cobblestone pathway leading to the front door and flowerbeds under lush trees shading the yard. Not at all what you'd expect when you think of a sex dungeon. Or...whatever they would call their place of business.

You came close to bailing several times, your anxiety seeming to creep up your throat as your breathing picked up speed. But after popping a few prescription pills, you were able to calm yourself down. And you know you really want this. If you chickened out now, you know you'd regret it.

So when the clock strikes five till, you take a deep breath and force yourself out of the car, muttering another quiet fuck it to yourself.

There's an intercom button next to the door, and you press it after wiping the sweat from your palms.

"Hello! Who is it?" a chipper voice calls, sounding like Jungkook.

"Hi!" you squeak out, maybe sounding a little too excited. "It's ____, I'm here for my...appointment."

Appointment? Session? You aren't sure what to call it. But Jungkook knows what you mean.

"Okay! Jimin will be there in just a minute!"

You're only kept waiting about fifteen seconds. The door opens to reveal Jimin dressed in jeans and black cap, greeting you with a radiant grin.

"Hi! Glad you could make it," he says, every bit as cheerful as Jungkook, but there's a mischievous tone to his voice. He gives you a slight smirk as he opens the door wider to let you in.

Ah. He must've seen you waiting in your car for the last twenty minutes, anxiously twitching and talking to yourself as you debated on whether to abandon the entire endeavor.

"Ha ha," you say awkwardly, deadpan. Jimin just chuckles, as if to say just teasing.

You enter into what looks like a very small waiting room. Clean carpets, thriving houseplants, calming paintings on the walls, and two plush armchairs.

There's comfortable silence as Jimin leads you up a set of narrow stairs and into another room. It's painted in the same neutral colors, beige and cream, with floor mats to soften the ground. Various cabinets and dressers line the walls, and you don't have to guess what they're storing.

"Alright," Jimin says, cracking his knuckles after he closes the door behind you. The small gesture sends shivers down your spine.

"Go ahead and put your stuff down here and disrobe to your comfort level."

You do as he says, setting down your bag and slipping off your shoes. Just being in your socks seems strangely vulnerable. You opted for a pair of comfortable leggings and loose tank top, not quite ready to show any more skin than strictly necessary.

Jimin digs through a few drawers, and when he turns around, several bundles of rope hang from his hands. It's then that you notice how the muscles of his arms strain against the sleeves of his gray sweater.

He's a lean man, but certain parts of his body are especially defined. His thick thighs in those jeans, the sharp jawline and chiseled neck, the way his top slopes down the slight curve of his chest. Even his hands, distinctly veined and sinewy, are eye-catching.

He's looking at you from under his cap, calculating.

“Come here,” he says, his voice gentle but firm.

You immediately step onto the mat where he wants you.

The ropes still dangling from his hand, he begins to walk in a slow circle around you, methodically scanning you up and down.

“Tell me your safe word,” he commands gently.

“Turtleneck,” you reply, earning a small smile from him.

“Good.” Just that one word makes you feel weak in the knees, because something in his voice changes. His tone deepens, seeming to curl around the edges, and it drips with authority. It says you will listen now, I’m in charge.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” he says, still circling around you. “I'm going to tie you up, and then we'll talk for a bit."

Your brows furrow slightly, eyes fixed to the bamboo-colored mat under your feet.

"Talk?" you say. About what?

"Yes," Jimin replies swiftly. "I'd like to get to know you, _______."

Somehow, that idea is more terrifying than everything else combined.

Again, you offer nothing but another awkward, deadpan laugh.

"Won't you kneel for me?" His voice drips like poisonous honey.

You swallow the nervous buildup in your throat, and after a few moments of hesitation, you drop to the floor one knee at a time.

Jimin smiles at you, pleased.

"Good," he praises. "We'll go nice and slow, okay? I know you're nervous."

How does he manage to sound so comforting and authoritative at the same time? It's something about his voice, naturally high-pitched but with an edge that he uses to his advantage.

You manage a nod.

"And from now on, I'd like you to use your words," he instructs.

You nod again, but he raises an eyebrow at you.

"Uh, yes, okay," you mutter.

The corner of Jimin's mouth twitches like he isn't quite satisfied. He begins to circle you again.

"Hmm, what should I have you call me?" he says, half to himself.

There's a pause of reflection, and you start to ask a question before you can help it. Jimin looks at you after you cut yourself off.

"Speak, lovely," he instructs. Being called "lovely" from anyone else would surely make you cringe, but somehow Jimin makes it work effortlessly, making your face heat up a bit at being the target of a pet name.

"What do you like to be called?" you ask curiously. You may be paying him to perform a service, but kink is a two-way street, and you want him to enjoy himself as much as possible too.

He offers another radiant smile in response.

"What a good question," he practically purrs, smirking slightly.

You're starting to descend into that special headspace. You're being good, you're pleasing him.

"I'd like to be your Master, if you'd let me," he says, maintaining strong eye contact.

It makes you rip your eyes away and look down at the floor.

"Yes...Master," you say with a little effort. It's a bit awkward, but you want to please him.

"Look at me," Jimin orders, more firmly.

Now, that takes even more effort. Jimin is a particularly hard man to look in the eyes. You were hoping to avoid it for as long as possible.

"That's an order, lovely," he says, soft yet stern.

It takes you a minute, you'll admit. You feel the tell-tale signs of anxiety, ants under your skin, twitching fingers, darting eyes. Your heart rate is rising rapidly.

"Hey," Jimin suddenly says, dropping to one knee in front of you. He puts a cautious yet comforting hand on the side of your face, and when you melt into it instead of jerking away (surprising even yourself), he lets his thumb stroke across your cheek.

"You're okay, ______," he says soothingly. "You're here with me, I've got you."

The touch helps, calming down your heart rate a bit. It gives you the strength to finally meet his eyes.

They're warm and soft and concerned, drinking in your reactions. They crinkle a bit with his smile when you meet his gaze.

"Good, good girl," he says.

It sends another wave of comfort through you.

"Do you want to stop? Take a break?" he asks.

"No," you blurt out almost immediately. If you stop now you'll have to ease back into that headspace. No, you can work through this. Your anxiety won't beat you this time.

Deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, like your therapist taught you. You're fine, you're grounded, you got this.

"I want to keep going," you say, putting effort into communicating your desires.

"You sure?" he asks.

You nod with a smile of your own, and then remember what he said.

"Yes," you reply. Then playfully add, "Master."

He smiles again and nods, rising back to a stand.

"How about we try this," he says, going to one of the drawers and shuffling around. He returns with a length of white cloth.

"Then you won't have to think about what you see," he adds.

Glancing at him briefly, you nod in agreement.

Jimin steps behind you and wraps the cloth around your eyes, tying it behind your head while being careful not to pull your hair. When the knot is secure, he smooths down the material so you're well and truly blind.

"How's that?" he asks.

"Good," you reply. The darkness helps. Just like he said, it's one less thing to think about.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, self-consciousness creeping in.

"None of that, lovely," Jimin replies, still calm yet strict. "I won't have it. There's nothing to apologize for."

Still, the same gloomy feeling lingers a bit.

"If you still feel the need, you can say "thank you" instead," he suggests.

A pause.

"Thank you." Then you add hesitantly, "Master."

You hear him chuckle.

"Very good."

He's approaching you again, along with the sound of rope being threaded through his hands.

"I'm going to put you in a type of chest harness that will restrict your arms, is that alright?" Jimin asks.

''Alright," you reply, shifting on your knees, eager to really get started.

"Give me your wrists."

You obey, holding them out in front of you.

He starts to loop the rope around them, at one point using two fingers to test the tightness. You can't see what he's doing, but you feel the slight burn from the rope, the tug as knots are secured.

"So tell me, _______," Jimin begins as he works the rope. "What do you do for a living?"

You give him the small-talk answer, simple and lacking details.

"Hmm, do you enjoy it?"

Ah, no one's ever asked you that before. Not even relatives at family gatherings.

"Enough, I suppose," you reply, beginning to feel the first stirrings of vulnerability. "I mean, it's nice to work alone for the most part, and the work isn't that laborious."

Jimin hums to himself like he's thinking.

"Do you enjoy being alone?" he asks.

A pause.

"Yes," you finally reply. "It's safer, I guess. I only really feel safe when I'm alone."

"Hmm, palms together," he orders, and you obey.

Jimin guides your arms up so your tied wrists are held above your head, then he gently moves your arms to bend at the elbow, your hands now resting near the back of your neck.

You can't help but gasp when he pulls on the rope to wrench them back just a little further.

"Color?" he asks cooly.

"Green," you answer, a little breathless. You're starting to feel it now, the sense of helplessness that comes with being bound. With every passing minute, he's making you more immobile. And it makes heat coil lower and deeper.

Then he's using the tail end of the rope binding your wrists to wrap around your torso.

"Introverted, huh?" he asks, starting to wrap the rope around your chest. A pass underneath your breasts, then up to your shoulder, down the other shoulder, then just above your breasts.

"Yes," you answer, slightly out of breath from the speed at which he's now tying you. "Always have been. It's a little annoying, to be honest."

"Oh? How so?" Jimin asks, tying off the knot.

"Well," you begin, the blindness and chest harness making you feel more vulnerable. "I wish I could enjoy being with people more. But I'm just so picky with who I spend my time with."

Jimin hums as he checks the tightness of the tie.

"There's nothing wrong with being selective about your company. Life is short, after all," he says.

Your upper body is now restricted, rope weaving around your chest, arms bent back. You can hear Jimin uncoiling another spool of rope.

"I'd like to secure you to the ceiling. Is that okay?" he asks.

You nod, feeling your mind go a bit fuzzy.

"I'll wait," Jimin says, sounding a bit more stern.

"Yes," you blurt out, remembering to verbalize. "That's okay."

"That's a good girl," he practically purs, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You nearly shiver. Jimin notices.

You can hear him stringing the rope to some kind of hook in the ceiling, and then he's connecting it to the rope binding your wrists.

"Are you cruel?" you can't help but blurt out.

He freezes for a split second, then he lets out a chuckle.

"Do I seem cruel?" he says playfully. Then he yanks at the rope so you feel a little jerk, and it sends a jolt through your stomach.

"Only in the good way," you manage to reply.

He chuckles again, a light, tinkling sound.

"I can get cruel at times," he says. "But only towards those that deserve it."

"Do you think I deserve it?" you blurt out again, feeling bold.

There's a pause of silence.

"Maybe. We'll see," he says softly.

Footsteps as he walks around you in a slow circle.

"So work is just okay. What about relationships?" he asks.

You move your head a little towards where you think he is in the room.

"Not the best either. Haven't really been involved in anything long term in a while," you reply.

"And why is that?"

You hesitate, squirming a little in your bonds.

"I guess I have trouble trusting people. And I've never been comfortable enough with anyone to tell them about my...sexual proclivities," you admit, looking towards the ground even though you're blindfolded.

"Hmm, and how long have you had kinky desires," Jimin asks, sounding genuinely interested, still circling you in slow measured steps.

It makes you feel a bit like a bug under a microscope.

"Ever since I can remember," you say, and it feels like ripping a bandaid off. "I remember fantasizing about being tied up before I even knew what sex was. When I shared that with my ex, he called me a freak. I didn't want to tell anyone else after that."

"That's quite a common experience with kinky people, feeling alienated. But there's a lot of us out there who fully understand and embrace the way power dynamics and sex are intertwined. It's just a matter of finding people you connect with," Jimin says.

You feel a little wave of relief wash over you, because it seems that you found exactly that. Maybe your seemingly endless feeling of dissatisfaction is finally over.

You hear Jimin stepping towards you, his hand coming to the rope securing you to the ceiling. He unties it, letting it plop to the ground, and you can't help but feel a little disappointed.

Then, he's got two fingers in the back of your chest harness, giving you a gently tug towards him.

"Don't worry, lovely," he says into your ear. "I'm not quite done with you yet."

You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until you hear yourself gasp when he releases you. It's only then that you realize your arms and shoulders have gone a little numb and tingly.

"I'm going to release your arms, and then I'll bind your legs, okay?" he says.

"Yes, Master," you breath out as the ropes start to go slack around you.

"Good girl. You're learning quick."

He quickly unties the ropes securing your arms and wrists, gently rubbing your skin as he does so to bring back some feeling. He leaves the chest harness in place, his hands coming to reposition you the way he wants: on your knees, slightly elevated on your toes so your legs aren't completely folded underneath you.

He quickly gets to work winding rope around your left side, securing your thigh to your lower leg near your ankle. Then, the right side bound just the same. Then he grasps your wrists in front of you, tying them together and lowering them to let your hands rest between your legs.

There is the urge to reach lower, to relieve some of the tension there, but you won't. Not during this session. 

"How do you feel?" Jimin asks when he's done.

You're feeling floaty, so it takes a few seconds for you to gather your thoughts.

"Good, green," you almost whisper. "Like I'm..."

You trail off.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart. Go on and use your words," Jimin orders gently.

"Like I'm safe," you finally say, feeling silly saying it out loud.

"Is that a strange feeling for you?" Jimin asks, once again sounding genuinely interested.

"I guess so. I don't know but, as a woman, when you tell a man that you want them to dominate you, they usually think that means pulling your hair, tearing your clothes off, calling you a "bitch" or "slut" or something. But that's not really dominance. It can be enjoyable if you're into that kinda thing, but the men I've dated seem to think that that's all I'm looking for when I say I want kinky sex," you say, tongue feeling loose now that you're getting comfortable.

"And what is it that you want?" Jimin asks softly.

You think for a moment.

"It's not about pain or being powerless by itself. It's about someone else taking control of you out of care and love, treating your surrender as something almost sacred. It's about giving it to someone you trust and them respecting you back because of it. Does that makes sense?"

You hear a soft chuckle from Jimin.

"Yes, it makes perfect sense."

"I mean, I'm not saying "all men," but a whole fuckin' lot of them seem to think that bdsm is just violent sex. But it's not just that! It's a way for both people to feel release through control."

There's a moment of silence as you realize just how much you've been talking.

"Sorry, I'm rambling," you blurt out.

"I like hearing you talk," Jimin immediately replies, an almost challenging tone in his voice.

"Just like yous said, kink is a two-way street. Both parties have to be willing to not only listen to each other, but also put in the effort to communicate their thoughts and desires."

You wriggle a little, feeling the tight sensation of ropes around your wrists and legs, the cloth tied tight around your eyes.

"A real dominant will implement discipline and control through the lens of acceptance and love, not condemnation," Jimin goes on.

You hear him get to the floor, feel the heat of his body behind you.

"I'd like to guide you, _______. Instruct you, mold you, challenge you, support you, help you blossom into your full potential," he says, his mouth by your ear.

"I'd like to be the one to help you become more comfortable with expressing your needs. And it will become easier, trust me," he says with a little chuckle.

You can't help but laugh along, feeling nice and fuzzy in the head.

"May I rub your back?" Jimin asks, and you nod in response. He again chuckles softly, as if to say I'll forgive you this time for not using your words.

His hands come up to massage your shoulders, fingers skimming over the rope weaved around your torso. 

At some point, he slowly unties the ropes around your thighs, rubbing the skin to bring back some feeling. He switches between massaging your back and untying your bonds, muttering soft reassurances in your ear.

And you didn't realize just how touch starved you felt until now. Every press of his fingertips makes you want to melt further into his embrace, the feel of his skin on yours is almost intoxicating.

When he finally moves to untie your blindfold, you've got moisture building up behind your eyelids.

Jimin's face softens at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes.

"Hey, it's okay, lovely," he mutters gently, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"I'm so proud of you," he assures you, tracing a thumb across your cheek. "You did so good for me."

That gives you the courage to finally look into his eyes.

"Really?" you practically squeak out, rubbing at your eyes.

"Of course!" Jimin insists. "You were open and honest, communicative and responsive. A very good first session, I'd say."

You still shrink in on yourself a bit.

"But I—" you start, something within you still wanting to protest.

But Jimin grabs your hand and yanks it towards him, placing your palm over his chest. You feel the thumping of his heartbeat.

"It was a good scene," he says, voice calming yet commanding. "You can see that I enjoyed it."

That makes a slight blush bloom across your cheeks.

"Cute," Jimin says, chuckling.

Now that the fuzziness is clearing up, you register more details. The black cap on Jimin's head as he adjusts it, the silver earrings dangling from his ears, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin.

"Come here," he mutters, bringing you close to his body. He cradles you against his torso, running his hands up and down your arms in comforting movements.

You don't realize that your eyelids are fluttering until he mutters, "You're quite endearing like this."

"What time is it?" you mumble, looking for a clock.

Jimin's laugh reverberates through your back.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We've got time," he says.

But now that you're slipping from that special headspace, you don't want to overstay your welcome.

"My jacket..." you start, moving towards your bag. But Jimin shushes your protests and gently pushes you back down.

"Don't get up, I'll get it," he reassures. He returns and wraps your jacket around your shoulders a few moments later, then wrapping his arms around you too.

"Five more minutes, okay lovely? Just relax," he coaxes, tucking your head underneath his chin, and it's unclear if he's informing you of a fact or making an excuse for himself.

A few more blissful minutes later, and Jimin is shifting you into an upright position.

"There we go," he says, guiding you to stand.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yes," you reply, just a little breathlessly. "Just very relaxed."

"I'm glad to hear it," Jimin replies with a smile. "Will you be alright getting home? We'd be happy to give you a ride."

"No, I'm fine, I'm good," you insist, and after scanning your face, Jimin relents.

"Um, do you take tips?" you ask hesitantly, reaching for your wallet.

But Jimin just smiles and waves you off.

"Trust me, you've done more than enough," he says.

"But, I do have some homework for you," he says.

When you nod in agreement, he leans forward to whisper it in your ear.

"Have a good rest of your day, ______," Jimin says, leading you out the door.

"Thanks, you too," you reply, feeling light and relieved from the session.

You don't notice it, but Jimin watches you get into your car and drive off until you're out of sight. 

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i'd love to hear any of your thoughts :) let me know if you' like to see me expand on this au!

[alahmorah]

Picturesque Pranks

A/N: I’m excited to be writing again and to share it with others. This was fun! I hope you enjoy it. I always love stories with plenty of fun dialogue, so I hope it reflects in my writing.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, no y/n used

Warnings: 18+ only, Smut. No one’s read this but me, so mistakes may have been made lol. Praise and dirty talk.

Summary: Bucky and you are friends who enjoy pranking your fellow teammates, The Avengers. You’re stuck alone in a safe house after a mission and find yourselves in a predicament. Bucky is hot, as always. 

The small cabin you were achingly drudging towards was an old safehouse. The mission that just kicked your butt was over, and you and your teammate were supposed to be picked up here by the rest of your team. The only problem was that another mission had arisen, as they frequently do, and Tony had called to let you know there would be a slight delay. "It should just be a day or two, honestly. But, we've got a lead that we've got to take now, and..." he sounded rushed and admittedly apologetic. You kind of zoned out as he relayed the information on this lead -- something about a big-shot mobster with international clout making some sort of deal -- and you didn't care. You were tired and had walked miles through the woods after your getaway vehicle sputtered to a stop. Apparently, the hail of bullets that sprayed down upon you as you escaped had caused several important fluid leaks. You'd been looking forward to the ride back home on the Quinjet, but this cabin would have to do for now.

Your partner had been silent ever since you made your escape, only groaning when the car broke down. As soon as you entered, he muttered "Finally" and proceeded to guzzle three bottled waters from the stash left in the fridge. His metal hand crushed each one as he emptied it, tossing it into the small plastic basketball goal some goofball had hung above the trash can. The interior around you was so random and quaint. It was nothing like the sleek and technologically forward designs that you were used to, and none of the decor had Pepper's special touch. You were used to living with the Avengers, and this screamed cottage-chic. You supposed that it wasn't made to look like a hideout, so it made sense. You started checking out the ingredients in the pantry, deciding on making some quick and filling spaghetti. "How's Italian sound, Bucky?" You held up the jar of sauce and box of noodles you'd found.

"Honestly, that sounds perfect. Do you mind if I take a quick shower while you get it started? I promise to warm us up a can of green beans when I get out...might even consider adding some salt and pepper to 'em." He ripped off his mud-caked shirt while he asked, causing you to quickly avert your eyes from his strong torso. "Umm, okay Gordon Ramsey, don't show off too much. And, yes, please get out of those filthy clothes." You turned away from him to hide your blush as you realized what you'd said. He chuckled, "Yes ma'am" as he made his way to the small bathroom in the back of the house.

You hummed a tune as you filled up a pot with water and thought about the water that was making its way down the planes of Bucky's body right now. You dumped some back out into the sink as it overflowed, your thoughts keeping you from performing simple tasks. The noodles were done by the time he returned to the kitchen, and you heard him slowly walk up behind you as you were getting ready to drain them. "Here, doll, let me help. Oh, and don't you dare laugh. Just avert your eyes if you need to." He carefully grabbed the hot, heavy pot from your hands and proceeded to drain the water into the sink. You get a good look at him and let out an embarrassingly loud laugh, unable to catch your breath at the sight before you. Bucky just sets the pot down and does a little twirl as he rolls his eyes. "Ha, ha, ha. I know it's terribly funny, doll, but I swear this was the best of the four choices I was forced to make." Your eyes roam over his super-soldier body, which is currently adorned in a blue muumuu with a delicate yellow flower print. You finally catch your breath, "You've got to be kidding me. Why the hell would they stock a safe house with muumuus?"

He rolls his eyes, "I have a feeling this was all Stark. I doubt they're even on another mission, I think he's just fucking with us. I don't care at this point, I just want to eat and rest. I'll chew him out tomorrow."

Looking down at your dirty clothes, you realize there's no way you can sleep like this. "Ugh, I guess I have to accept my fate, too. Can you dump the sauce on the noodles and make your famous green beans while I clean off real quick? I'll just be a few minutes." 

"Yeah, go for it. There's not a washer, but I'll handwash our clothes after we eat so we can hang them to dry. I'm not giving anyone else a chance to see me in this." 

As he gets to work on finishing the meal, you head to the tiny bathroom. The heady aroma of Bucky's scent and soap washes over you, and you shiver under the hot stream. You swear he was going to drive you crazy. You and Bucky had a natural friendship from the start. He wasn't one to open up to new people easily, but something about your personalities just meshed. You often annoyed the team with your inside jokes and small pranks you'd pull on them. They were always harmless, just silly things like the time you replaced all of the spoons with gag spoons that had holes in them, or when you switched all of Tony's boxers with Natasha's lingerie...oh. Suddenly, your situation made a lot more sense. That happened months ago, and Tony laughed it off like it was nothing. Now you had to set some ground rules for the prank war that was sure to start. The first rule is to keep it at home.

You quickly finished cleaning up and wandered into the only bedroom in your towel. When you opened the closet door, you were confronted with three muumuus of varying colors. You grabbed one at random and went to the drawers to hopefully find some underwear. The first drawer was full of socks, so you checked the other three to find... more socks. There wasn't any underwear, and all of yours and Bucky's clothes were in the bathroom, which meant he didn't have anything on underneath either. Even the fact that he was in a muumuu did nothing to quell your body's response to that thought. You swiftly pulled the garment over your head, your stomach growling loudly as the scent of dinner made its way to you.

Bucky was sitting patiently at the table in front of two steaming plates of spaghetti and green beans when you entered, and he did nothing to hide his laughter at your appearance. "Thanks for dressing up for the occasion, doll." he smiles widely, spinning his fork in the spaghetti, and taking a big bite. "Mmm, to be honest, these things are comfortable. Maybe we can get the whole crew on board for Muumuu Spaghetti Mondays or something."

"Yeah, we can get a red, white, and blue one for Steve. I'm sure he'll go for it." As you imagine the formidable Avengers in muumuus, your shoulders shake with silent laughter. Bucky and you take a few moments to eat without filling the space with words.

The image of Tony flying around with a muumuu flapping wildly in the wind fills your mind, and you speak up, "By the way, I can't believe I forgot about what we did to Tony a few months back...of course this is all him."

"I was wondering how long it'd take you to remember. He's probably going to show up any minute so he can snap a picture and," Bucky's words stopped mid-sentence as the lights all went off suddenly, "speak of the devil." He quickly got up and went outside, looking for a sign of the man himself, while you picked up your plate and headed to the door, still shoveling spaghetti into your mouth. The night was exceptionally dark, as the moon and stars were covered by dense clouds. There was no sign of the Quinjet or a vehicle, and your eyes followed the dark shape of Bucky's figure as he searched the area. After a few minutes of quiet eating, you almost jumped as he rounded the corner of the house. "There's no sign of anyone. I checked the breaker, and it seems to just be a power outage." he huffed.

"Seems being the key word...I'm calling him." You carefully made your way back to the table to deposit your plate, quickly hitting Tony's name in your phone. He didn't answer but sent you a text a few seconds later.

Sry, busy. Surveillance. Sup?

                                                    Dude, the lights? Seriously? Stop fucking around.

Idk what you're talking bout. 

                                                    Electricity's out at the cabin. I know you're getting us back, we found the clothes. Game's over, Tony.

Look, I g2g. Sorry bout the electricity, but it wasn't me. I take responsibility for the clothes, though. Lol. 

                                                      You really on a mission?

I swear. I'm sorry, but we'll be there when we can. 

                                                        K, I'm trusting you.

Good. Have fun, and take a pic of Barnes for me. 

"You're not getting that picture, punk." You felt his warm breath on your neck, and goosebumps erupted over you. While texting Tony, you hadn't realized how close he had gotten. "Trust me, I wasn't about to obey him. Besides, we need to save the battery on our phones. We don't know when the power will be back on or when they'll be here to get us."

"Mmm...I guess so. Well, what now? I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly sleepy." You hear him shuffle about and rinse your plates in the sink.

"Well, it's too dark to read, we can't watch Netflix, can't play a board game. I guess we just have to entertain each other till we're ready for bed." you reach out for direction as you make your way to brush your teeth. The dark wasn't about to keep you from good dental hygiene. Thankfully, there were unopened toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste in the cabinet that you both quickly used. He held your hand and led you through the unlit hallway to the bedroom, only letting go once you were sitting on the bed. "I'll be right back, doll...just gonna clean our clothes and hang them to dry."

You reached out, quickly grasping the metal of his arm. "I'll help," you started to stand when you felt both of his hands firmly on your shoulders.

"Hey, let me do this for us. Take some deep breaths and relax, I promise I'll be back soon, ya punk."

"Okay, okay. Thank you." You took his advice, though it didn't help you relax much. The sounds of him washing in the other room mixed with the consistent thump of your heartbeat in your ears. This symphony blended with the thoughts of sleeping next to him tonight and the worry about accidentally revealing your feelings in some way. You were wound up even tighter by the time he returned.

While the weather outside was calm and cool, the temperature inside the cabin was comfortable with a slight tinge of a chill in the air. You could feel Bucky's warmth as soon as he dipped onto the bed.

You picked up one of the smaller pillows from the mismatched selection and turned it over in your hands nervously. "Well, there's a fireplace in the living room that we can use if it gets any colder...we might want to see if we can find any candles around here tomorrow, too. If they haven't returned by then."

"While you're right, let's not think about tomorrow." He placed his hand on top of the pillow you were spinning. "Are you okay, doll? You seem a bit jittery."

"Yeah, sorry. The mission is still fresh in my mind, not to mention we don't know how long we're going to be here with no power. I guess it has made me a little anxious. I know everything's going to be fine." You shifted slightly closer to him. He was sitting near the end of the bed, facing you, and you were at the head of the bed. Your eyes had slowly adjusted to the inky blackness around you, and you could make out his shape. You wished you could view the details of his face right now and see the expressions that came across it. His body heat and your blush warmed your body as you felt him come closer, your crossed legs now touching his.

"Let's play a little game to relax your mind." His smooth voice dropped down to a husky tone. "What do ya say?"

"Okay, sure. Did you have something in mind?"

"How about word association? We can take turns saying a word or name, and the other person has to say the first thing that comes to mind. I used to play it with Steve. It's so simple, but it can help get emotions out and clear your head. Wanna try?"

"I'm down. Will you start?"

"Absolutely. Okay....Tony"

"Asshole!"

He laughed heartily. "See? That felt good right?"

You nodded into the void of the room, "Yeah, it did. Umm...blanket"

"Fort. I haven't made a blanket fort since I was a kid. Potato."

"Soup... sounds good. Hard"

"Wood. Lip"

"Stick. Blue"

"Balls." he said quickly. 

You laughed hard, trying to catch your breath and falling backwards onto the pillows. 

"Blue balls are no laughing matter, sweetheart." You could hear the smile in his voice as he tried to avoid laughing. 

"I mean, it's kind of funny that that's the first thing you thought of." You just knew he was rolling his eyes. "Okay, Buck, give me a word."

"Blow"

"Suck. Hand"

"Job." he let out a quiet laugh, "Sorry, but once a game starts getting dirty it's hard to steer it back to normal."

"S'okay, Buck, we're both adults here." You hated how breathy your voice sounded now. He was getting to you, as he always was. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss him, though you couldn't make out the expression on his face to help you judge the situation. The risk of losing Bucky as a close friend kept you from moving forward. You didn't want to push your romantic feelings on him, though you knew you couldn't keep them secret forever. You extended your legs beside him and reached out for his arm, needing something to anchor you in the midst of your storm of thoughts. Your fingers landed on cool metal. "Will you lay down with me? Please?"

His shadowed figure moved to your side and stretched out. "Sure. Ugh, this feels so much better. Alright, it's my turn still. Let's see, Steve."

"America." This drew a chuckle from him. "Whipped"

"Cream. Lap"

"Dance. I got a question for you, Buck. What word starts with f and ends with u-c-k?"

He paused a moment, trying to think of anything but the obvious. "I've got to be honest with you, doll. Fuck is the only word I can think of right now."

"Firetruck, Bucky! Your mind is so dirty."

"You got that right." He shifted his bare legs next to yours, causing warm, electric jolts to move up your leg to your center. "Well, doll, I'd tell you a joke about my penis, but it's too long." 

"Oh, yeah? Well, do you want to hear a joke about my vagina?"

"Sure."

"Nevermind, you'll never get it."

"Is that so?"

"Mmmm...possibly."

"Baby, are you a sea lion? Cause I see you lyin' in my bed."

As turned on as you undoubtedly were, Bucky still made you laugh uncontrollably. You both giggled, trying to release the tension that had been building up since the day you met.

You caught your breath just long enough to utter, "Is that muumuu from space? Because your ass is out of this world!" Another round of chuckles erupted, only to slowly come to a stop when you felt both his warm flesh and cool metal hands cup your cheeks.

"I love to hear you laugh, doll. There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with in a tiny cabin with only muumuus to wear." You nuzzled into his touch, brushing your lips against his palm. His breath hitched, and he retreated his flesh hand quickly. You were instantly worried that you'd taken it too far, and your mouth opened to apologize when you suddenly felt his soft lips upon yours. Bucky's hand crept up the back of your head into your hair, and you moaned into the gentle kiss. You could feel his smile as you vocalized your appreciation.

He pulled back slightly, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. "I take it that sound means this is okay with you, doll?"

"It's more than okay, Bucky." Your lips met his again, capturing his plump bottom lip between your own. The low hum of his groan ignited you both, and you both opened up, tasting each other. You were quickly drunk on Bucky; his smell, taste, and touch were all that you could focus on.

He shifted in the bed, making his way between your thighs, which spread open eagerly in anticipation of feeling him completely. "Baby, you've been driving me crazy since the day we met. Steve had to talk me out of pursuing you. He said the way I was eye-fucking you in front of our teammates was unprofessional."

"Steve said that?"

"In his own words," he let out a breathy sigh and rubbed his hard length against you, "you feel that, babe? That's what you do to me every day. Every time I watch you fight, when you stumble into the kitchen half-asleep in the mornings, or when you get mad at paperwork, it doesn't matter. I always want you, want to hold you, fuck you senseless."

"Please," you start pulling up on the flowing garment in the way of his gorgeous body, "please, let's get out of these."

"Mmm, I love how eager you are, baby." He pulled the clothing over his head in one swift motion, but stopped your hands as they pulled at your own fabric. His large hands engulfed yours, forcing you to slow your movement up your thighs.

"I can't do this if you're unsure in any way, doll. I want you for more than a night, more than a few months. This can only happen if you want to be mine as much as I want to be yours." He nuzzled his nose against yours, his mouth open so close to yours.

You tried to taste him again, but he moved just out of reach as he waited for your answer. "I've been yours, Bucky...always have been." He groaned into your mouth as your tongues met again, slowly savoring one another. He pulled the garment further up to your hips. His thumbs caressed your hips on either side before he moved them back to grab your ass. "Mmm, so soft."

You whined as he continued to slowly bring the fabric up your body, molding his hands to your sides as he went. He finally removed it, but just as you thought he would ravish you, he pulled himself back. Your collective pants of want filled the silence of the dark room. You heard him take a shaky breath as you felt his hands gently touch your cheeks, moving down your neck and the sides of your breasts before stroking your waist. The wait made your skin even more sensitive; trails of goosebumps were the evidence of his light touch. "God, I wish I could see you," he groaned.

Unable to help yourself any longer, you smoothed your palms down his chest and abs, feeling the softness of the steely muscle. You felt your heart skip a beat at the light gasps he let out as your hands explored him. As your touch traveled lower, he stopped your movement and leaned forward. "Please...everything in me wants to savor you first. You're making a mess of me, doll." His lips met yours again as he lowered himself, before kissing his way down your neck. Sharp bolts of pleasure shot through you with every touch, every kiss. He was igniting you in a way you've never felt, and the intensity you experienced with each pass of his lips was leaving you breathless. His hands molded over your breasts, and you once again relished the duality of cool and hot, soft and hard.

"You're so gorgeous and so, so responsive for me." He smoothed his fingers over your hard nipples, circling them gently and making you ache even more for him. The sensations jolted through your body, and you could feel yourself grow wetter with each caress. Bucky added his soft tongue to the mix, alternating between lapping at each peak and sucking lightly. As he made his way down achingly slowly, his teeth grazed your breast and sensitive stomach.

His warm breath set you on fire, and you were torn between pulling him up for more kisses and lifting your hips to align his mouth with your core.

You felt his lips on you first, softly kissing your clit. You let out a pleased, breathy moan as he eased into it, warming you up with gentle kisses and suction. Then, his tongue swept across your clit and you yelped at the pleasure.

He hummed deep in his throat, and you felt the vibrations from his mouth on you. "Ah, fuck," you uttered, unable to hold back all the sounds he was coaxing from you. Your hands released the sheets they were gripping beneath you to grab Bucky carefully by his hair. You accidentally tugged the strands once he started moving back and forth on the perfect spot, and he groaned in pleasure.

He grabbed your thighs rougher than before, and you could feel him grind against the bed as he tasted you. You felt yourself clench tighter.

The contrast of his hands on each of your thighs heightened the sensations of his tongue. You felt as though you would burst when he lifted his head to groan, "Mmm, I've been missing out."

"Bucky, I want you in me so bad" you gripped his strands again, eager for him to enter you.

"And I want you to come first, doll," he started thrusting his tongue into you, teasing you with what he knew you wanted.

"I'm, mmm, going to explode if you don't fuck me," you shook, feeling yourself losing control as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

"Fuck yes, please explode for me."

It was easy to comply with his command as he started to swirl his tongue on the perfect spot. You gasped, and he knew you were done for. "Mmmhmm," he vocalized deeply, urging you to release for him. He pressed two fingers inside, flexing them and massaging with a skilled rhythm as his colder fingers smoothed over your nipple. Your pleasure rose and burst, rumbling through your entirety.

"So delicious..." he nipped at your quivering thighs as you came down.

You caught your breath for a moment before moving to sit up. "Please, Bucky, please let me taste you."

He groaned deeply, almost growling. "If I let you do that now, I'm done for sweetheart. Another time, I promise."

"Let me ride you then? Fuck, I need you, I want to make you feel good."

"You're already making all my dreams come true, doll" he lays down and you quickly straddle him. He's so hard and hot against your cunt, and you can't help but slowly rub yourself up and down the underside of his length. You lean forward, suddenly desperate for his taste again. He's just as ready for the kiss, leaning up to catch your lips and tongue with his own. You lose yourself for a moment as you devour each other, before Bucky's whimper alerts you to his need.

You move your hips to catch the head of his thick cock and sink down gradually, allowing yourself to both adjust to his size and fully appreciate the moment.

"That's it...you're so perfect." He twitched inside you as you sat all the way down, stilling yourself for a moment once you fully engulfed him. You stay this way, feeling full, as his hands caress your hips. He drags them down your quivering thighs, which ignites you to lift up and slowly push back down. You can feel him trembling beneath you. It's as if you're both fighting the all-consuming passion you feel inside by keeping this leisurely pace, but you want to savor your first time together and remember every second. With each gentle drag of your hips, his groans become more drawn out and louder.

Bucky breaks first. "Fuck, I've got to..." he sits up and grabs you, flipping you around to the bottom. He's shaking with need as he grips your thighs and lifts your hips before entering you. You don't know how long you can handle this new angle, it's so good and hits everything inside of you just right. He leans forward enough that your clit slides against him with every thrust, which are steady and deep.

"You're going to make me come again" you breathe out, trying to not sound as desperate as you undoubtedly are. 

“That’s what I’m hoping for, doll.”

You grip his rocking hips with your thighs, trapping him against you. You’re so close and need to feel him as closely as possible while he fucks into you. 

“That’s so hot, baby” he whimpered, “squeezing me like that, fuck. I’ll stay here as long as you need, sugar.”

He leans down to nip at your ear, groaning  “I only want to here between your luscious thighs, baby. Need your cunt, yeah, need you like this all the time. So perfect for me…” Bucky's words turn into moans and whimpers mixed with your name.

You could feel him swelling inside you, his hips wildly thrusting now. Your own end was blossoming throughout your body, quickly building. “Cum inside me, Bucky, it’s safe. Please.”

His groans came out with every movement now, and the sound of Bucky coming undone made you get there first. Your thighs trembled against him as your orgasm took over your muscles, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. At the peak of your bright, spasming pleasure, you felt the heat of Bucky’s cum filling you. He looked euphoric as he gasped and fucked into you with a few more powerful strokes as you both let go of everything together. 

Bucky took a moment to catch his breath, then gently brought his face close to yours, kissing your lips and neck reverently. “You're finally all mine…needed you for so long…” He mumbles against your skin as he stays inside of you, your bodies still together. You spread your fingers over his beating heart and doze off happily.

You drift slowly out of a comfortable dream as the dance of light is perceived through your closed eyes. You feel so warm, so safe. As you shift, you feel Bucky move to pull you closer, and you smile.

It’s too cozy to get up or even to open your eyes, so you just nuzzle closer to him, feeling his bare skin against yours. He drags his fingers through your hair and you feel him sit up slightly. His touch moves down your neck and shoulders. “Fuck, you're gorgeous, baby. You open your eyes to meet his heated gaze as it drifts over your body. Something about the moment feels otherwordly, like you’re both still dreaming, but as you hear the quick turn of the door handle and the click of a camera, you both turn your eyes to see Tony himself.

“Oh shit…um, guys, hang back. DO NOT COME IN, I repeat, DO NOT COME IN!” He quickly backs away and runs outside as you hear the Quinjet landing. Bucky and you stay frozen for a minute as you hear him take off outside. 

Bucky takes a deep breath. “He doesn't even know what's coming to him, now. And don't worry, doll. Tony Stark's not going to get a free nude from either of us.” You give him a soft kiss as you both stand up to get ready for the ride home. “I can think of a few ways to get him back, Bucky. You?”

“Of course, doll. Let's discuss this in your room when we get back?”

“Can I use the whiteboard?”

He laughs as you pull on your clothing. “Yes. You could even make a PowerPoint if you want, baby.” 

“Thanks, Bucky. At least he didn’t get an embarrassing picture of us in muumuus….right?”

Bucky's eye roll that day was legendary.

Thanks so much for reading! 

[sitp-recs]

Part II: table for two

Following my list featuring the sea (now with a lil banner cause I’m getting in the reccing zone again baby!!!!), I thought I’d make this a series called “fic as a sensory delight” and continue the trend with good old Drarry domesticity walking hand in hand with some food porn appreciation. Who knew that Drarry living their best life while enjoying tasty treats could be so personal? These fics feel like a comfort meal when life gets too crazy and provide a delicious sensory experience. From cottagecore to road trips, found family, case fic, established relationship and even kinky delights - this list has a bit of everything and features food as a main character either bringing Drarry together, healing past traumas, helping them connect with their heritage or simply playing as a love language. I hope these fics bring you as much comfort, joy and healing as they brought me. Happy weekend!

🥘 Breakfast by @moonflower-rose (E, 3k)

Breakfast is Harry's favorite part of the day.

🥘 Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

🥘 Salt and Sauce by onbeinganangel (T, 3k)

Sure, of course he knows how you take your tea. But does he know your chippy order?

🥘 Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (G, 4k)

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

🥘 Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds You by InnerLilith (E, 11k)

In which Harry takes Draco out for Eritrean food, and Draco has a severe obsession with Harry’s hands. Smut ensues.

🥘 Harry Potter and the Showstopper of Doom by @doubleappled (M, 11k)

In which Harry’s an amateur baker, Draco wants him to go on the Great British Bake-Off, Petunia never misses an episode, Sue is a witch, Paul Hollywood is Paul Hollywood, and everyone eats a lot — like a whole lot — of baked goods.

🥘 Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 13k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

🥘 Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes by @sleepstxtic (M, 15k)

“Hello, Harry,” Draco said. He was wearing a black turtleneck under a long grey overcoat, and he was already flushed with sweat. His hair was tied into a knot; it was longer than I remembered. He was older than I remembered. There were lines around his eyes, and I wondered if they were from laughing or frowning. “Hello,” I managed. “You must be with the British Ministry?’ He nodded. I thought I might faint.

🥘 Bridges by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 16k)

Harry and Draco are on a trip to Budapest to help with Kingsley's re-election, but that's the boring bit. More interesting: Harry Potter is changing his Tinder preferences to include men. Also interesting: Harry's spending more time with Draco Malfoy than he ever has, wandering around the city. And Harry doesn't hate it. The city's pretty gorgeous too.

🥘 Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (M, 17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

🥘 Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 17k)

Harry is cooking food he couldn't care less about; Draco is making art he couldn't care more about. A story about kebabs, miniskirts and the way preservation can transform a lemon.

🥘 Passion Cake by @icmezzo (T, 19k)

It’s all about desire. (Harry orders a magically enhanced cake from a chic London bakery, and from there it all goes to hell in a cake tin. Also, will someone please tell Harry what Passion Cake is?)

🥘 Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

🥘 Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

🥘 Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

[thesightstoshowyou]

A Trick for a Treat

- A Series -

~~ Over the next few days, I hope to get out a few shorts detailing what my favorite characters are up to on Halloween ~~

(Part I) (Part II)

Part III

Derek Goffard (TPOF) x AFAB Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Drug use, theft, nonconsensual touching, praise, pet names, Derek is the “victim.”

Thumping music, drunken conversation, raucous laughter, crystal glasses clinking, champagne fizzing, lights flashing…. It’s too much. You’re tired, skull aching and legs protesting as you weave through the crowd of fabulously-constumed party-goers. There are designer labels everywhere you look; sumptuous fabrics, bejeweled masks, high-end makeup.

Halloween for the über rich.

Pushing past a couple dressed as a sparkling Bonnie and Clyde, you slip into a deserted hallway. Your tense shoulders deflate with a sigh, the cacophony of the main room now mercifully muted. In your hand, your untouched drink grows warm. You’d been too busy to even take a sip.

Absently, you set it on a nearby table. The painting hanging on the wall above catches your eye. You lean in, studying the details. It’s an original, you’re sure, and probably worth more than ten years of rent.

“There are cameras everywhere. I’d think twice.”

You whirl around, startled by the sudden voice behind you. A young man leans against a doorway, arms crossed, blonde hair slicked back, smug grin creeping across his face. Your eyes are drawn first to the chic, all black suit he wears, then to the devil horns perched atop his head.

Great. Another spoiled rich boy. You’d had your fill already tonight.

You put on your customer service face. A pleasant smile tugs at your lips, at odds with his own sneer. Chuckling, you relax back against the table and shrug, “Just admiring.”

The man pushes away from the threshold and saunters over, invading your space and coming to a stop inches from you. Expensive aftershave and cologne—eau de Spoiled Brat—assaults your senses. Just the same as the rest of this god forsaken party, it’s too much, like he’d just doused himself before stumbling upon you.

Hands slipping into his pockets, he adopts the stance of every other smarmy prick you’d dealt with tonight. It’s the posture of someone accustomed to getting anything and everything they want; head cocked to the side, chin raised, shoulders squared, disdain etched into every feature.

You’re used to it—have to be in your line of work—but there’s something a little different about this one.

It’s his eyes. They’re brilliantly green and sharp as a knife, a little too wide and too intense for comfort. He looks at you like a feral dog would a wounded rabbit.

You’re suddenly and acutely aware you’re very much alone with this man.

“Cute,” he quips, slipping a hand from his pocket to flick one of the white, feathered angel wings strapped to your back, your last minute costume for the night. You don’t balk. You’ve had worse.

Reaching out, you tug on a lapel of his undoubtedly handmade suit, “Is this Prada?” He grimaces, glancing down at your hand on his jacket, then back up at you. Confusion crosses his features. He doesn’t understand your question.

Good, he’s stupid. You can work with stupid.

“The horns. The Devil Wears Prada….” You trail off, eyebrow raised teasingly. The man scoffs.

“Who are you?” he questions, the smug smile slipping from his face, an annoyed scowl quickly taking its place.

“Your guardian angel, baby.” You open your bag to dig around through the stash of pills, powder, and cash within. Producing a tiny bag housing two white pills, you tease, “These’ll make you see God.”

As expected, he immediately zones in on the baggie. Gotcha.

“How much?” he asks nonchalantly, crossing his arms. You purse your lips like you’re thinking.

“You can sample it on the house…if you get me another drink?” The corner of his mouth quirks up in a satisfied grin. You knew he’d like that.

“Derek Goffard,” he announces, holding out his hand. He says his name like it should mean something to you.

Returning his grin, you grip his hand. “So nice to meet you, Derek.”

~~

Derek had lasted longer than you thought he would after swallowing your little pill. He did his best to carry on conversation, brag, show off all the expensive stuff in his room. You began to wonder if you’d given him the wrong thing, but then you noticed that telltale glaze in his eyes, the slurring of words, the sweating.

Now, he’s flat on his back, splayed out in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His suit jacket lays in a pile on the floor, dress shirt half unbuttoned.

Taking a sip of your drink, you perch on the edge of Derek’s mattress. Feigning sympathy, you coo and brush your fingers through his crunchy hair. His eyes flutter closed at the touch, a breathy little sigh leaving his lips.

“Aw, baby,” you murmur, laying down next to him. “I forgot to mention these were big boy pills.” You slip your hand in his pocket, feeling around for his wallet. He mumbles something incoherent, blinking slowly.

“What was that?” you ask condescendingly as you rifle through the cash. Five grand. You pocket two. He won’t even notice it’s missing.

Returning the wallet, you push to sitting and throw a leg over his hips to straddle him. Derek utters a strangled grunt, hips twitching like he wants to buck them, but cant. They’re just too damn heavy. It brings a small smile to your face. He’s almost endearing like this.

“Doesn’t feel good being on the other side of it, does it Derek?” you whisper, your fingers teasing his bottom lip. Half-closed eyelids droop further and his mouth falls open. You chuckle, “Well, it feels a little good, huh?”

Derek’s eyes fly open when you roll your hips. His fingers scramble clumsily through the bedding, searching for your thighs, hoping to grip and hold on tight. All he can manage is a weak squeeze and a pathetic whine.

You praise him anyway, sickly sweet words murmured against his panting mouth, “You’re trying so hard, aren’t you, handsome?”His cock twitches in his trousers, probably aching to explore the warmth between your thighs. You decide now is as good a time as any to leave.

“W…wai…wait…” Derek slurs when you slide off his lap. As you straighten your clothes, your gaze is drawn to the tent in his pants, desperate for attention. That’s gonna hurt for a while.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s past my bedtime.” Fluffing your hair, you turn to leave as Derek mumbles something else. “Hmm?” you question, leaning down over him and turning your ear toward his mouth.

“G…Gonna…fucking…kill you.”

Quickly, you straighten, unnerved. That had sounded…startlingly sincere. Goosebumps prickle along the back of your neck as you look down at Derek. Still staring at the ceiling, he blinks one eye, then the other before closing them altogether.

As he is now, he’s completely harmless. You seriously doubt he’s going to remember any of this tomorrow. This reassures you enough to gather your bag and depart without a backward glance.

On your way home, Derek’s parting sentiment returns to your thoughts, unbidden. There was something…something extremely off-putting in the tone of his voice, something you can’t shake. Hastily, you glance over your shoulder, your feet tapping against the ground a little faster than before.

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

matsukawa issei one of those guys that just walks in the rain. no umbrella no raincoat not even a hood motherfucker just gets wet. it’s not because he forgets to check the weather he is fully cognizant that it is raining he just accepts his fate and steps out the door into the downpour. he leaves a trail of water behind him when he walks inside and wrings out his shirt like a cartoon character his shoes squelch when he walks he has to empty them in the sink his hair is Dripping he shakes his head like a dog his splash zone has a 6 foot radius.

no one understand him his mother won’t let him sit on the couch she’s like what the fuck kid if you get water on the rug one more time you’re sleeping in the rain. oikawa is unimpressed “it’s your funeral” asks issei if he’s thought about investing in a lifejacket. takahiro insists that drowning is “so this year” and issei looks “chic” when he’s shivering. iwaizumi walks beside him on the sidewalk under his own umbrella he does not offer to share issei does not ask there is mutual respect. he doesn’t jump in puddles or anything like that’s too childish or whatever but he Refuses to wear appropriate rain attire he would rather be damp and uncomfortable than inconvenienced.

[myqualities]

Source: http://iwishtocontinue.tumblr.com

[onlyonetifosi]

Are you gonna do a chapter based on Joris’ birthday

Bonus chapter: Joris bday

sorry to be late for this been very busy with assigments

WARNING: SMUT!!!! (at the beggining only) then its lots of fluff

The sun kissed the city of Montecarlo, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets. It was a special day for Joris, and Y/N couldn't wait to celebrate his birthday.

Soft and lazy kisses trailing slowly down his bare chest have Joris’ eyes shifting behind his eyelids as he wakes up, unwillingly being pulled into the start of the day. A small grunt sounds from his chest in refusal to open his eyes, yet the soft little pitter patters now walking down the dips of his abs stir the butterflies in his belly.

His attention draws to the fingernails hooking under the waistband of his boxers, the somewhat ache in his crotch seeping through the thick layer of sleep he was in.

He hears shuffling under the covers, suspecting what - or who - that could be, causing a smile to creep up his lips. He lifts his hips willingly for his shorts to be pulled down, just for his cock to be taken hold of by two soft, warm little hands.

And then, what he didn’t expect but hoped for - silky, warmth and wetness all wrapped around his tip as the lips are wrapped around him.

She was determined to make Joris’ birthday as special as it can be, hence she started by giving him head. “Holy shit, baby,” Joris’ voice is deep but there’s a hint of desperation in it as you give him head “Fuck you’re crazy today.”

“Just spoiling the birthday boy, amour,” Yn smiles at him, tapping his cock against her tongue and ensuring he watches while she does it.

“Je t’aime tellement chérie” he says with a breathy voice.

"Je t’aime aussi, bon anniversaire, mon amour!" Y/N exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Merci" Joris replied, returning the embrace as both of them lay on the bed entangled in each other. "Are you ready for today?"

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

"Absolutely," she replied with a smile. "Let's make it unforgettable."

They embarked on a day filled with Joris' favorite activities, from making the most of the sunny day and sailing on Charles’ yacht (which she had to plead him for but Charles after knowing it was for Joris’ bday couldn’t say no), to going shopping at his favorites boutiques and having lunch in the same restaurant they have being going since they can remember and whose owners know them as it’s a very small restaurant not in the most tourist zone of the principality and most of the clients are Monaco natives.

As evening descended upon Monaco, they made their way to a chic restaurant nestled in the heart of the city. The air buzzed with excitement as they took their seats, anticipation building in her for the surprise they had planned for Joris.

As the waiters dimmed the lights, Yn could hardly contain her excitement. She glanced at Charles, who winked in response, their plan about to unfold.

Suddenly, the room erupted into cheers as the waiters emerged, carrying a decadent birthday cake ablaze with candles. Joris' eyes widened in surprise, his laughter echoing through the restaurant as his friends surrounded him, sharing in the joy of the moment.

"Surprise!" they chorused as the waiters appeared carrying a birthday cake with candles and bengals.

"Joyeux anniversaire, Joris!" Y/N exclaimed, her heart swelling with happiness as she caught his delighted expression.

"Merci, merci à tous!" Joris exclaimed, his eyes shining with gratitude.

They savored the exquisite meal, sharing stories and laughter late into the night. With each toast and shared moment, Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment wash over her. These were the memories she cherished most—moments of pure joy spent with the ones she loved.

As the clock struck midnight, they bid farewell to the restaurant and ventured into the lively streets of Monaco. The club was already alive with the sounds of laughter and music as they stepped inside, the neon lights casting an electric glow over the dance floor.

"Let's make this a night to remember!" Charles shouted over the music, his voice filled with excitement.

Y/N laughed, feeling the rhythm of the music coursing through her veins. This was home—surrounded by loved ones, lost in the magic of the moment. As she glanced at Joris, his smile illuminated by the neon lights, she knew that this birthday would be one they'd never forget, knowing that as she saw Joris’ very happy face as he conversed with Charles and their friends in their booth.

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie@tesi1

[jaylleoo14]

An Indirect confession 

Unbeknownst to his knowledge of those simple words

>GN!ReaderxJade

A/N: For those who don't know, in Poetry there’s this thing where if you ask someone if the moon is beautiful it basically is an indirect way of saying “i love you.” And if the other person agrees then they are basically reciprocating and its mutual, so I guess you can get the gist of where this is going >:) muehehe (also sorry if the writing is kinda dry 😭My brain juices were not juicing 😔) This is also pretty lengthy so I apologize for the long read ^^;

[wc] 12.2k words

[disclaimer] Jade 

[characters] Jade, Ortho, Deuce, Jack, Grim, Floyd, Azul

Normally students tend to avoid going to Octavinelle, the dorm that seems notorious for its shady under swept deals and the students residing there seeming to be all hushed and tight lipped about certain information. Some things they shouldn't know, yet they do and it makes you wonder how exactly they get such information. Yet one thing is undeniable, and it's the fact that they have a great cafe which tends to be overpriced, but usually of befitting prices for what they serve and provide. 

Mostro Lounge, a chic sea themed cafe which is managed by Azul Ashengrotto and runned with students from all other dorms who seek to make extra cash. Its meals and tableware, everything from the music to the decor and the overall vibe was perfect for one to leisurely dine in and perhaps hang out and study. The calming hues of blue and purple, a shimmering accent of silver which compliments the place helps create a nice pleasant place and provides a great aesthetic. It surely did look pretty and elegant, the food there being just as delicious and the drinks delightful as the jazzy music sets in the vibes. 

Nov - 12, XXXX

It was during the colder season where the sun usually starts to set earlier and the days would be shorter, the nights getting longer to be able to view the starry sky. Although not too late, the moon had already risen and was in full view. You sat near the glass wall where a full display of the waters were open and of view to you, nothing letting it shy away from watching eyes. Nothing roamed in the waters as you can make out, the only thing lighting up the dark void passed the glass being the lights illuminating the room you currently were dining in. Different colored corals and sea plants can be seen wavering around on the floor-the currents making it wave around slightly, its movements kind of enchanting you as you zone out for a bit watching the steady pacing. 

“If you aren’t going to eat your food then I call dibs!” Grim exclaims right at the same time he snatches up your plate of food, to which you ordered some simple and light vermicelli noodles. The bowled plate is taken away and you didn’t even seem to mind honestly. The soothing jazz music, the calm night in the lounge, and the background noises of side conversations from other students which can be heard as the workers walk by to drop off their orders or bust their tables. It was almost lulling you into a state of drowsiness, the temperature just right for you to even take a nap right here and now. 

“Tonight is very nice, don't you think Grim?” You say almost absent mindedly as you continue to stare at the empty waters. Your form is still like a doll as you keep your eyes on the glass pane window. 

“Because you’re treating me out for food? Heck ya! Nyahaha!” His response only prompts you to roll your eyes and a smirk spreads across your face as you sarcastically shake your head. 

“Yea well maybe I won't next time. After all, what are the chances of you getting all full marks on Crewel's potionology test?” Grim can only respond with a confident and upbeat response, ensuring that he is bound to continue to excel and this was just the beginning. You can only scoff but in all honesty, you can't deny that you were indeed proud of him for being able to reach a perfect score. 

And if it weren’t for Jade’s help Grim wouldn’t have done so well. 

“Are you enjoying your night here in our humble dorm, Prefect?”

Speak of the devil. Jade comes up with a hand placed over his chest, giving you his signature smile as you turn to look at him, your head no longer facing the pane glass wall. Grim is engrossing himself in the food, perhaps the reason why he isn't feeling too timid with his presence at the moment.

“Surprisingly.” Your answer was short and blunt, but it was enough for Jade to chuckle a little as he finds amusement in your rather tired honesty. 

“Well I’m pleased to know that you are enjoying yourself in our lovely sanctuary (y/n),” his usual politeness being one of his main outward characteristically point. A yawn escapes from your mouth, placing a hand over to try and show courtesy and politeness as you nod your head to his response, not being so responsive. 

“You seem to be quite exhausted, Prefect, perhaps you should start heading back. Or if you want, we can lend you a room. For a certain price of course.” You don't even need to look at him to know that he has this sly little smile plastered on his face until Grim interjects before you can respond.

“Nyah, we actually prefer to go back to Ramshackle now that we are done eating, right my henchman?” 

“Once I’m done with my drink, then we’ll head back,” and just as you said, you reached over to cup the blue wine glass that was filled halfway with a fruity and sweet concoction of juices that danced on your tongue when you took a sip. Wanting to occupy yourself with something, you play around with the metal tube as you proceed to enclose your lips around the straw to take a generous sip of the beverage. Its taste was able to freshen you somewhat as you closed your eyes and relaxed a little on the leather seat, the smell granting you a satisfied hum. Grim next to you could only whine for you to hurry up - not wanting to stay any longer in the presence of one of the eel twin, but just to play around spitefully you purposely started to drink a lot slower and Jade can only watch as he’s always done and squint his eyes a little as his smile widens. 

Jade’s attention is brought onto the glass wall that he noticed you were staring at before, looking up only to be met with the glimmering silver that soaks into the waters swaying waves. The full moon looks back down at him as he continues to stand in front of your booth, continuing to sip your drink as Grim starts to lay next to you to take a nap.

“The moon is quite beautiful tonight, don't you think Prefect?” He says it ever so calmly, saying those words as if to spark another conversation with you. Though it only prompts you to start coughing and hacking as you accidentally slurped in your drink a bit too fast and it ended up going to the wrong pipe. You’re practically hurled over, hitting your chest as you wipe your mouth and Jade can only watch with wide eyes.

“Nyahh!? What happened?!” Grim springs up from the sudden jerking motion of your coughing figure and you clench the ledge of the table sitting at the end of the cushion.

“My, did I say something out of the ordinary (y/n)?” Once you look up to find his full attention on you, you can only try to calm down and inhale a breath as his display of a friendly smile bore into you. Why are you making such a big deal? It’s not like those words had any meaning in this world, so there's no need to be making such a big deal (y/n)!

You’re quite embarrassed honestly, especially because you thought he just confessed right then and there. But of course, that can't be the case because those words don't mean anything in this world like it does in yours. Quickly reaffirming yourself in your head, you let out another cough to clear your throat and catch your breath. 

“A-Ah, no uhm, I thought I misheard you is all haha. But ahem, I would say that tonight is rather lovely haha.” And you try to regain your composure as you divert your eyes and finish up with your drink. A small hum can be heard from Jades tall figure as he places his fist over his mouth. “Well, I see you are rather more awake now. Pray do tell what you misheard, I am curious to know what got you so worked up dear Prefect.” 

Your cheeks are only decorated in more of a slightly deeper shade of red, and suddenly the straw is very interesting to look at as you twirl it around in between your gloveless fingers. “You won’t get it, it won't make sense anyways. Just some nonsense.” You can only wave your hand dismissively and he can't help but grow even more intrigued as your brows furrow and you continue to brush it off.

“How unfortunate you can’t seem to try and help me understand, even though I went through all the trouble to help you and Grim with your studies. I find that rather unfair especially since I see that you two have bore fruit in your success due to my aid.” 

His words help you gain back your composure, resteeling yourself as you straighten your back and shoot him a placate smile. “Hmm? Whatever do you mean Jade? I’m paying you back by visiting you and dining at the place you work at so you can gain income. I think that’s plenty enough to repay you.” He only squints just slightly at you in response and you’re pretty sure you can feel as if you’ve triggered something in him be it good or bad - that's something you don't really wanna find out though.

“Oya? You came to see me specifically? I don't see it as a valid reason enough considering that's how one would usually repay others when they are indebted to them.”

You slightly pout at him, and as usual Jade always seems to counter your attempt of being sly and snarky with his own silver coated tongue. “Whaaat? Are you saying my visit isn’t enough for you? How could you, even though I came all this way just to see YOU specifically.” You lean into the cushion almost dramatically and animated to further emphasize your offended playful nature. 

He seems to be fairly accustomed to your playfulness and responds accordingly. “Although you claim to come over to Octavinelle to come visit me specifically, I account this is the first we are talking since you made your appearance. I believe Floyd has interacted with you more than I have today.” 

“Okay well point is, I still came over for you. And to express my thanks I was helping the profit of the Mostro Lounge. Not only will you benefit but Azul would greatly appreciate my patronage! Plus, Floyd is happy knowing I'm here. See? Everyone’s happy!”

Finding the littlest details possible, you make it as important as ever. But Jade is not fooled by your little over exaggeration and nitpicking. Of course, one would know another's tricks well when they themselves do it. And he seems to find great entertainment from the way you carry on with this drag. He truly does feel a sort of fondness for you with the way that you are. Not that he’s ever said however. 

“Are you assuming that I am satisfied with what you’ve offered me?” When you look up at him you can see the way his eyes look more meticulous now, as if he’s observing your every move. Dissecting you piece by piece as he awaits for your response, patiently waiting for when he could strike and counter your words. You leave your mouth slightly agape for a moment thinking carefully for what your next words were to be, carefully trying to see what you could say in response - however the pressure of having to hurry and say something quick overrides you because if you don't, then it would be like you couldn’t match up to him. Not like you could ever, but it wasn’t a nice feeling when you let others know they have a winning upperhand. And he seemed to relish knowing that you were feeling this pressure from the way he was looking at you.

“I am assuming you aren’t dissatisfied with it.” Putting up an undeterred front, you do your best to try and keep a steel-like straight face as you stare at his mismatched eyes. 

With the way his eyes go back to their non-disturbing look you can only assume you satisfied him with your play of trying to be undisturbed. The tension is then suddenly broken when Grim lets out a complaint, saying how he’s tired already and that he just wants to go home now. Sprawled over your thighs as his back lays against them as if he was putty, an unprompted sigh escapes your mouth and you pick up grim in your arms, standing up as you begin to excuse yourself. 

“Goodnight then Jade, I’ll excuse myself now.” 

“And as is the same to you, pleasant dreams to you Prefect.”And with that, Jade goes ahead and picks up the empty porcelain dishes and the glass cup, remnants of eaten food and a little puddle of liquid to show it had been put to its intended use. 

‘I came all this way to see YOU specifically.’ Your words replay in his head as he walks back to the kitchen, a slight sulky pout on his face to which no one is able to witness. 

“I wish you could say that more often my dear (y/n).” Setting them down into the sink, the water runs as he turns on the faucet. The pressurized water splashes as the dishes make contact and he can only stare down at it as he begins to think of you. A little susurrus naturally slipped out under his breath as the sound of running water deafened his words of one sided longing. “Hmm, it seems that they were trying to avoid agreeing about the moon… ” 

On the walk back to your dormitory, Grim looks up at you from where you hold him in your arms. “Hey Henchman, did Jade say something funny back there?” 

Looking down at him, the pale ashen color of the moon's rays blanketing you both as it illuminates your path, you can only give him a slightly wide eyed response. “It’s nothing. Just something from my world is all. What he said about the moon, it means something in my world…” Your voice can only trail off as you think back to the incident, the familiar expression of embarrassment starting to bubble up again as your face heats up to which you can't help but bury your face in Grims fur as you recall what a stupid reaction you must’ve given. Grim is grumbling and complaining as you indulge in his fuzziness, seeming a bit shocked and confused from your sudden outburst. “Yer squeezin’ me ahhh!”

Loosening your grip on him, he lets out a dying wheeze as if he finally escaped from a crushed boulder on top of him. The sound of your shoes walking softly on the ground fills the air aside from the huff you let out as you try and sort yourself out. 

You’re overreacting here (y/n), Jade doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know what those words mean! And even if he did it’s not like you love him either. Though that simple phrase was enough to have you thinking about him the entire walk back, perhaps going to give you some sweet dreams just as how he wished you back when you left. 

He definitely knew what he was doing-as the leech he is-was able to slither his way into your thoughts as planned and stick there. Something similar to a parasyte as one can compare. The way he just sticks in your head as you now roll in bed, constantly replaying his words. Why do you keep replaying these words? Why does your heart race when you replay the scene in your head over and over again and you remember how his voice sounded? Why were you starting to make random scenarios in your head, visualizing him and you wa- SNAP OUT OF IT (Y/N)! 

Sure no ones ever said those words to you before but you have to remember that it means nothing! So what if the moon is beautiful? That's all there is! You must be crazy if you think you may be coming down with something regarding that little slimy eel. He doesn’t know what those words mean anyways, why would he say that to you?

Point is, he doesn't know. End of discussion!

. . .

He knows. 

Oh he soooo knows, though you don’t know he knows. At least, not yet.

Moving the pawn over to create space for the castle to move, Jade makes his move while hovering over the wooden chess pieces. Closely calculating every piece carefully despite there being no other attentive player on the other side. Not wanting to catch your attention like a snake hunting for its prey, he goes ahead and advances forward quietly.

Nov - 6, XXXX 

“Deuce! Jack! W-wait up for me, please!” You tiredly try to jog towards Deuce and Jack, though you would say it's less of jogging and more so walking at a jagged pace. Sweat drips down your form, drenching you and stains of sweat are pitted on your underarms and chest. You slow down, bending over as you place your hands on your knees to catch your breath. The sun's rays washing over the lands as you three stand beneath it, its heat adding onto more of excretion of sweat. 

“N-Never again. You two are trying to kill me!” Huffing and gasping desperately, Deuce comes over to pat your shoulder in hopes of comforting you. His hand placed softly atop of your draping shoulder as he slightly bent down to your crouched figure. “Sorry (y/n), I didn’t consider how today's club session would be like for people who aren’t accustomed to running so much at a consistent rate.” You can tell by the tone of voice that he genuinely felt guilty having you get put up with all that running, and Vargas being Vargas was not so lenient. 

“My feet are in so much pain. It feels comparable to wearing heels the entire day, I hate this so much.” A feigned sob is ushered out and as the reliable person he is, Jack comes over to try and comfort you as well. “I can lend you an arm if it helps. Really, you should have expected that much running at least when you offered to come participate in the track and field club.” To be fair, you only came because Deuce wanted you to check out the club in hopes that you’d be interested in joining. So you gave it a shot.

Never again. Jack shakes his head as if scolding a little child and the sound of him clicking his tongue can be heard, his brazen feathered white locks of hair swishing from side to side as he jerks his head. 

“I can lend you my arm as well! Please don't hesitate to ask for my help if you need it (y/n)! I’ll gladly let you rely on me.” Deuce’s sweet fluffy voice reminding you of a newborn hatched chick makes you soften up a bit, and despite being so sweaty you went ahead and latched onto Deuce as his offer seemed much more friendly and welcoming. He seemed to not mind it though, and Jack seems to not care whether or not you planned on relying on him. Though you acknowledge his outwardness to help. With a settled huff, you three began to walk down the dirt path that maps out the campus. 

“Maybe my feet hurt because I don't have the proper footwear.”

“Your preparation skills are even worse than I thought (y/n).”

“Look, what's done is already done okay? No need to keep saying stuff that would get me into a dour mood Jack.”

“You’re right, I didn’t mean to restate the obvious then if you’ve already acknowledged it.”

His words just make you hit him slightly on the arm, not in a hurtful way but a hit that was as light as when the waves would crash onto your feet in the sand. He didn’t mean to sound ill willed, but he has his ways of showing concern for those he cares about. He grimaces for a bit but simply overlooks it knowing that was just your usual play, noticing the way his ears would twitch from your usual playfulness - you guys had a comfortable dynamic and it showed.

“If you don't have any proper footwear, we can go stop by Sam’s shop and buy you some.”

Deuce suggestion diverts your attention back onto him, your arms still linked together as you lean on him for support while you stagger off, giving him a reaffirming nod. He seemed pleased to be of help to you, as if fulfilling the role of a good friend. 

 “Yea, let's go. I need to buy me some new socks anyways.”

“Socks? Not shoes?” 

“I don't think the problem is with my shoes. Although it may not be all the best to comfort me in running, it still gets the job done.”

Jack can only look down to observe your shoes as if to analyze what you said is true, trying to identify whether or not your words support your claim. His yellow sunset gaze which could be compared to how the sun's rays shined is heating you all right now as it bores down on you.

“Jack, before you say anything. Don't.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Don't look at my shoes, I’m poor okay. I feel like you’re secretly judging me.”

“Not exactly judging per say.”

“See! That doesn't make it any better.” A light chuckle originates from Jack as he playfully looks over to you, a small smile soon cracking on his caramel skinned face as his voice dies down. 

“How are you feeling Prefect?” A firm hand is now gripped on the other side of your shoulder, the feeling of your sweaty and sticky body meshing with your clothes as your scent muddles in with the fibers making up the cloth hugging your figure. Deuce has been walking alongside you now for the entirety of your guys walk as you head towards Sam's Shop, still quite a distance away. Feeling the need to check in on you, he continues to firmly lay his hand on your shoulder to better comfort you. 

“Deuce, you’re so considerate. I feel like I might just let out a heartfelt sob for how sweet you’re being right now.” You let out a feigned exasperated sigh - in response though Deuce’s reaction is one of surprise which you could feel without even looking at the way his body stiffens a little.

“E-Eh? This really is nothing though (y/n), you’re in pain after all. It would only be natural to help someone in need.”

“True, but you know this really helps a lot. I’m in so much pain, I practically don't wanna walk anymore.” 

“You’re over exaggerating a bit,” A little quip response from Jack makes you pout and shake your head to show you denied it. 

“Not true! Gosh if I had a significant other or something I'm sure they wouldn’t mind carrying me! Ah the convenience of having someone like that.”

“Do you really think they’d do something like that for you?” 

“Would you do that for your significant other?”

And without a second thought, he immediately answers. Only then does he seem to find how meaningless his question was upon answering yours. 

“I think having a significant other would be nice, but I don't think that's something I am trying to actively pursue right now.” Deuce chimes in his own thoughts and you let out a little laugh which also chimes just as beautifully.

“I think you’d need to be better at talking to girls first before you even consider trying to pursue one.” Light hearted laughter airs around you as you lean into his arm, your shoulders bumping up rhythmically. 

“W-wha-!”

“The last time you talked to a girl, or tried to court one - if you can even call it that - was the ghost that kidnapped Idia.”

Deuce sputters out, feeling a sense of embarrassment as you tease him about his interactions with the ghost bride, his face burning a bright red like the cards in which glossed a new coat of red paint on white roses. Besides you both, Jack takes into consideration your walking speed. He truly was showing consideration in his own way and it was something you didn't mind at all, in fact it made you feel appreciative for what he was doing. He would be leaving the two of you in the dust if he wanted to, only showing that he does indeed care about you. Deuce does the same of course, considering you are latching onto him for support as you stagger about. 

“I would understand why Deuce would just freeze up like that. When it comes to expressing those types of feelings it’s always better to actually be sincere about it.” Jack has always been more on the serious side, always viewing the perception of love as something that should last forever between you and your partner. A sense of loyalty and something not to take lightly of.

Love has many different meanings to it. A vast broad way to make a connotation of sorts which could be related in any way whatsoever. Something that you blatantly already knew of course. “Ok mister love counselor, I get that part alright? Besides, it’s not like you have to actually say you love them, I think it’d be harder to believe if you did say ‘i love you’ though.”

With his ears flattening with your sarcastic remark he should’ve known better than to say something that has at least more than once been thought about. 

“She didn’t require you to say ‘I love you.’ As long as you were a good enough candidate to fit her unrealistic, old fashion, and cliche ideal standards then you’d be good to go.”

“Okay but I meant it in a general sense. Not just for the incident with Eliza.” 

“What do you mean?” His question beckons to be answered as his tail waves from slight confusion, Deuce also sharing a similar if not more confused look. 

“Well if someone told you they loved you in a romantical sense, would you believe them?”

“Am I supposed to doubt them? That’d just be rude and disrespectful to their feelings.”

“Me personally, you could say it would also depend on who's confessing to me.” 

“That's true too Deuce. I could say the same. But I don't know. How could you believe someone who would confess such strong words towards you? I find it a bit surreal.”

“Has anyone ever confessed to you (y/n)?”

“Shut up Jack.”

A low snorkeling chuckle comes out unprompted as he muses himself in your dejected response and Deuce can only shake his head a little from the way the two of you have been slightly bantering with each other. Usually it would be Jack to be the one shaking his head, but you tend to bring out the mischievous and playful side of him. 

“I’m going to take this personally and hope that you also take me not taking your arm personally too.”

Jack is visibly taken aback with your proclamation as his ears perk up. “How childish!” 

“No it's not! You basically just told me that I'm not attractive!”

“Don't put words into my mouth!”

“Or! Perhaps you do have secret admirers and they are too scared to confess (y/n)”

Silence fills the air as you both have failed to think of such a possibility during the small moment of your little bantering, both your heads turning to look at Deuce who gives you guys a more serious face.

Relaxing a bit as Jack and you jaunted down, you go back to your usual casualness as the three of you continue your way to Sams. Your destination is not too far off as you three have been filling the time with conversation, making the walk feel shorter than usual. “Oh that might be true for most people. People may just be scared to confess to others.” 

“I mean you can always indirectly confess you know. A lot of people do that instead of outwardly confessing.” 

Deuce's eyes widen a bit with a type of child's curiosity and it only prompts you to further expand on what you meant. “Do you mean like a love letter?” Jack inquires and gives off from your earlier proposition. 

“Yeah, basically. Or you can say something to convey your feelings to them.” 

“Such as?” Deuce with his ample experience seems to show quite the interest despite stating some time ago that pursuing someone was not something he was actively trying to do. Though he still valued it as something to consider for future references in the case that a situation were to spring up and prompt him to initiate. 

An endearing smile scrawls on your face as you peer over to Deuce, Jack also listening intently as well. All this talking seems to have distracted you from the pain in your feet, but despite your hold on Deuce’s arm loosening you continue to keep your arms linked together anyways as the cool breeze comes to freshen you three up.“Well, there is this saying in poetry back in my world some people were fond of using some time ago. You basically ask someone if the moon is beautiful, and that's basically saying that you love them. If they agree with you then that's them reciprocating your feelings.”

“Ah, really? That’s some interesting and creative way of doing it. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to tell at all and only see it as a regular question though.” Deuce still nonetheless finds it rather intriguing. “Really? I’m sure there must be a saying similar to that here.” As you make it up to the shop, finally arriving after what felt like a short time despite the lengthy conversation, you find a familiar face. 

“Oh, is that? Ortho!” Waving over to Ortho, he reciprocates the friendly gesture and waves back. Seemingly, it appeared that Ortho just came back from some shopping from Sam's shop, quickly walking over in a spring-like gait.

“Ah! It’s (Y/n)(L/n), Deuce Spade, and Jack Howl! What a pleasant surprise to see you guys. Are you guys planning on getting something from Sam's shop?” His friendly personality was warming as usual and he was one of the people here whom you got along fairly well. 

Finally latching off of Deuces arm you decide to give it a try to stand as you also intend to approach Ortho with a welcoming and friendly smile. No longer leaning your weight on Deuce to help support yourself, you wince a little but endure the pain as you apply your usual weight onto your feet. Ortho seems to automatically notice and with the way his brows furrowed to show concern, Deuce and Jack come from behind standing close in the case that something happens.

“Ah prefect, you seem to be in pain! Your pain receptors and heart rate along with your tissue sensors seem to indicate you have a sense of soreness on your feet! Have you been over exerting yourself perhaps?” And as usual, due to Ortho’s inbuilt sensor indicator he seems to be all the more observant about your throb. 

“Aha you could say that. I joined Deuce and Jack in their club today so that's why. So here we are to buy some comfortable socks for me in the near future if this does happen again.”

Your lighthearted laugh doesn't seem to shake off Ortho’s concerned looking face however, so he offers to try and heal you up with some ointment packed on him. You’re grateful really, but you don't really feel all that comfortable taking your shoes and socks off right now in front of your friends after a hearty run.

“Oh no thank you Ortho. I really appreciate it but I’m sure I’d be better with some rest after. On another note, how about you search something up for me?” Your sudden change in topics catches Deuce’s and Jack’s attention as they both stare at your back as if knowing what you plan on asking. 

“Oh sure! If you insist so then I’ll leave you be then Prefect. What is it you wanted me to search up? I can get it in a blast!” His enthusiasm felt infectious and it quirks a small smile on your face despite the enduring pain. His body language conveying as such similar to how a human normally would if not for his obvious robotic decals and constructure. 

“Could you see if this saying means anything? ‘The moon is beautiful, isn't it?’” In a docile manner he quickly gets to it and with a few audible beeping computerized clicks he announces some articles and other works of literature where such a line would be found; similarly fitting the words or having the words exactly but not in a way to express someone's affection for another.

“Ah, I see. So your world really doesn't have that saying around.” You didn’t sound disappointed per-say, but you didn’t really expect much either. Upon noticing your lack of reaction, Ortho tilts his head curiously. 

“What were you hoping to find Prefect? I’m sure whatever it was we can find it together!”

Shaking your head lightly you only cross your arms and let out a slight sigh. “You see, back in (y/n)’s world, that saying is an indirect way to say ‘I love you,’ something you say to confess your feelings apparently.” Jack comes from behind and now to the side of you as he makes his presence more prominent. With an intrigued shine in Ortho’s eyes, he grips on his grocery bag slightly and brings a delighted fist up over to where his mouth would be. 

“Ah! On the way here were you guys perhaps talking about ways to confess to someone?”

“Er, not exactly. The topic kinda just happened as we were talking about how to indirectly confess to someone in general.” Deuce also comes in to step up from behind and by your side now as he too makes his presence more prominent. 

“Oh I see, the topic of love and confessions! How wondrous, should I search for some other ways to indirectly court or express your feelings towards someone?” 

Bringing a hand up to stop Ortho, you give him a little small smile to assure him that it wasn’t needed. “Thanks for the offer Ortho, but that was all I wanted at least. Everythings rather copacetic right now anyways haha.” 

“Anyways, we should better get going since I have some plans later.” Jack begins to announce as he proceeds to walk up and you soon follow after in a wobbly state, though still managing, as Deuce follows behind intentionally there to look out for you in case you’d need assistance. 

“Aww well alright then, it was nice talking to you guys. See you some time!” And with a fleeting goodbye wave, the three of you go ahead and approach Sam’s shop. Ortho now off with a tune playing as he goes down the dirt path road back to Ighynide. 

“Oh? How fascinating. To think such simple words convey tremendous feelings, fufu. Perhaps I should try saying it to them sometime when I have the courage.” Near the building of Sam’s shop, a ludicrous tall shadow looms behind a fairly covered tree.

Sneaking behind one of his towers, Jade picks up one of his pawns and sets it forward, diagonal to yours. Now swallowing and taking out one of your pawns he’s able to decrease your chess pieces. Moving your king further back out of sheer blindness and fear, all to which you know you should protect, Jade proceeds to think of his next move; now eyeing the knights in the back row which was still perfectly not in use aligned with his king and queen. 

Nov - 6, XXXX

“Sometime ago from the mirror chamber over to the botanical garden I saw Jack, Deuce, and my darling pearl (y/n) coming from the field as I made my way. I must admit, I indeed felt irked that they were clinging onto Deuce like that. However I kept my composure and decided to stay hidden and observe, something that I have always reaped benefits from.”

“To continue along, as I was listening to what they were talking about it appears that they were on the subject of how to court someone indirectly. Oh what a valuable insight to what my dearest has to say!”

In the botanical garden there sat the infamous student, Jade Leech. With no one around in the greenery place, there he sat talking to his mushrooms to which he cared for tenderly. In the placement of actual companions who could listen to his lovesick woes and scheming little ploys, it seems that he much prefers talking to his own plants which grow healthily from his careful attentiveness and candid affection. 

“Would my little shrooms care to know what it is my dearest had said?” To no response from the fungi planted in its bed of components, he only lets out a more passionate look to compel more. 

“The only thing they talked about was this saying back in their world. The person who asks if the moon is beautiful is quite frankly another way to profess your love in poetry. If the person who you asked it to agrees then they basically are reciprocating your mutual feelings. Isn’t that lovely?”

No response. If someone were to witness this surely they’d think that Jade would be a little crazy. Not like he’ll let anyone see him in this state though. Lest if they do then pray to the sevens that they would be able to see the next day come.

Adjusting the lighting to perfectly fit the conditions to aid its growth, Jade lets out a beaming smile as he thinks about the two things he tends to show more prominent love aside from his familial relations. You and his mushrooms. 

“If I continue to engage in social interaction with (y/n) then I am positive the likelihood of them returning my feelings would be higher. I’ve been doing so for the past few months now, perhaps I should start planning my confession.”

Sitting on a bench, he slumps in his folded arms ensuring that his head or arms were away from the bedded fungi; the edge of the earthy wooden table. Flashes of your face and scenarios playing in his head arise like a continuous movie film on repeat, the sound of your laughter and the feeling of his heart racing in his chest felt like he was immersed in the movie he was watching. Oh how he could replay them over and over again, a goofy love-stuck smile curling on his face as he buried it deeper into his arms.

“Jade! There ya are!” A sudden voice calls out to him and he springs up from surprise. He didn't hear anyone come in, just how long has he been in his own little world?

“Ah Floyd, what are you doing here?” Standing up from where he sat, he began to approach Floyd as he was coming over towards his way as well. A prime smile on his face yet he looked brighter than ever. 

“Azul needs ya. You’ve been gone for awhile, thought ya went out to the mountains again,” swinging down with a huff as he sits himself on the bench, he leans his head back to give him a rather laid back smile. “Good thing you were in here though, wasn’t plannin’ on tryna get you back all the way from the mountains.” 

“Oh my, did I perhaps lose track of time? Thank you for letting me know Floyd, I'll be sure to hurry along then.” The materialistic multitudes of sound coming together as Jade brushes and pats himself come together to accompany the brightful air around him. “Ah? Yer bein’ all smiley Jade, is it cus of these damn mushrooms or somethin?” 

“You could say it’s part of the reason, Floyd.”

With a click of the tongue and his brows slightly twitching, Floyd bounces up with a swift swing of his legs and starts walking alongside Jade. “Ugh, is it shrimpy again?”

“Gasp! How did you know?” As Jade makes a feigned gasp and his hand placed over his mouth, Floyd can only roll his eyes and shake his head from his fake and obvious display of faux surprise. “Urgh, keep yer lovey-dovey thoughts to yerself. I aint tryna hear all that sappy and weird stuff again.” 

“Oh dear, and here I thought you actually secretly liked to hear my woes Floyd.” With the both of them now walking off, Floyd and Jade start to talk about other affairs as they head back to Mostro Lounge.

Without realizing it, you move your castle over and take out his pawn resting on the black squares making up the chessboard. Too infatuated with his own plans, he fails to see you make a move with your knight and you proceed to place it on a white square. Ready to defend what you have left or ready to steal his pieces. 

Nov - 8, XXXX

The indifferent sounds of inharmonious male voices fill up the school halls as they go by their constructed schedule of schooling. Classes are left empty momentarily as students leave to head on and transition over to their next subject whether it be magic history or astrology, or perhaps they may skip and find the chance to slack off. 

A diversity of students are scrambling around and covering the school grounds, if seen above it might be like seeing a field of colorful jelly beans laid out on a structured maze platform. Stepping out of the classroom which is labeled at the top “1-A,” you and Grim along with many others go by the schedule as well; stepping out of the classrooms to head on over to their next classes. 

“Raaah~! I almost fell asleep there. Can you believe we’re gonna have an upcoming test in Crewel's class?!” 

A yawn can be heard and ushered out from your little fur ball of a companion, Grim. Resting on your shoulders you can only respectively share the same tired stare on your face as you step out into the school corridors. “We have a day or two maybe to study for it, it should be enough time to cover what we need to go over.” 

The wintery dim skies makes the air around you a bit more chilly than normal, making you feel a little drowsy even. “Mrmgh, why’d we have to get out of bed ~? It was the perfect temperature to sleep in!” As he then closes his eyes while resting on your shoulder, you can only give a sigh and roll your eyes as you make your way over to your shared class. With heavy eyelids and heavy limbs dragging your feet, you lazily make your way past the cluster of students. 

“Yea no kidding, I wanted to sleep in too. Any second longer and I would’ve succumbed to the comfort of our bed.” Bringing your hand to your face you start rubbing your drowsy eyes. “God the weather is so perfect to sleep in. A cold morning is so nice.” 

“I agree, I feel rather closer to home the more the temperature drops.” 

“WHAT THE FUC-/ NYAHHHHH!”

As you and Grim jump up into the air - his fur all frayed and animated looking like those Halloween black cats up on display windows during the spooky-season sales - Jade stands behind the two of you with a casual smile on his face. 

“Fufu, well I see you are rather more awake now.” Alongside him stood Floyd and Azul, the most recognizable sea trio ever. Floyd seemed to also be in a sleepy state as his slanted eyes were closed and his stance being all lazy and slump-like. Azul, ever the dashing man he is, looks back at you with a formal smile. 

“I must agree with you there Jade. Although the weather cannot nearly compare to the temperature at home, I find the cold to be rather comforting.” 

“W-What the hell Jade? Don’t pop up out of nowhere like that.” As you place your hand over your chest, the feeling of your heart beating rapidly due to the fright can be felt and heard in your eardrums. “Apologies, my intention wasn’t to scare you, Prefect.” Although you can't be too sure if he really was genuine with that apology, the look on his face said otherwise. And with a slightly scoffing click of the tongue you fix your posture and stand up with a straight posture to address him. 

“What do you guys want?” After you’ve calmed down, you press your palms on your hips, giving him a more stern expression. Grim is practically still recovering from the sudden scare as he clings onto your leg. “Oya? Asking us what we want? Why aren’t you a generous one (y/n).

“Indeed, if that's the case then I would like-”

“You know damn well that's not what I meant!” 

“Oi, shut it will you? Yer loud voice is botherin me.” Floyd speaking up in irritance causes you to divert your attention onto him and you flinch back a bit, making note of controlling your volume. Coming up to stand in front of Jade now, your attention is now placed onto Azul, his pristine air around him calling for professionalism. “To be quite frank, we heard your little call of distress just now and would like to offer assistance.” Smiling ever so politely as he places his hand on his slightly puffed up chest, you can only feel a sense of dread for what's to come. 

“You want to help us study for our upcoming potionology test? Why? What’s in it for you?” 

Feigning a shocked and offended look, Azul shakes his head slightly and you continue on just stare at him with disinterest. “Why, out of the goodness of my heart of course! I’m just trying to help my dear friend, yes? I’m just trying to show my comradery because friends are supposed to support and help each other.” Hearing his words make you snicker, and Jade can’t help but be amused a little at the show displaying your interactions with Azul. 

“Hmm? Shrimpy and little seal needs help with their studies? Oooh count me in~ hehe” Finally feeling awake with a sense of amusement, Floyds demeanor shifts to a more sneaky and cunning air around him. “Wait, I didn't even agree to this!” Grim lets out a similar statement as well, picking him up into your arms as you hold him for a sense of comfort. 

“Now now no need to be so rude. We merely just want to help.” You know damn well that he has other intentions other than to simply just “help,” and what other perfect way than to try and take advantage of the fact that you two had an upcoming test. “No way, I'd rather have someone else tutor us.” 

“Oh how your words and hostility wound me (y/n),” bringing a finger to swipe at his fake tears Azul then moves to the side and switches back up once again. “Very well, if you refuse to take my assistance then why not choose between the Leeches to tutor you?” 

Giving him the most “Are you serious” look ever towards Azul, you divert your eyes to look over at Jade and Floyd who stood beside each other. It was like you were in a bachelorette/bachelor show right now having to pick between which twin you wanted to date as Azul was the host. “W-Wait I never-”

“Time’s ticking Prefect, unfortunately we all have classes to attend so hurry won't you?” 

WHY IS HE PUTTING ME ON THE SPOT?!

Grim being firm with his whine and response simply says he doesn't want either and jumps out of your arm, scrambling off to class without you, seeing that you really were left alone in this situation. Thanks so much “companion.” Darting your eyes back and forth to Jade's polite yet somehow eerie aired smile and Floyd’s amused and up-to-no-good lazy smirk, you frantically blurt out one of their names without much thought. 

“J-Jade!” It wasn’t an easy pick, but in all honesty at least this eel can try and be tame for the most part. So scratch that, it was a rather easier and obvious pick. With a pleased smile on his face, Jade simply places a hand over his chest as if he was glad to have been chosen. “I will do my best to tutor you well then Prefect. Thank you for choosing me.” Ding Ding Ding! And it seems that (y/n) chose contestant number 2! Jade Leech! 

“Ehhh? Why didn’t ya pick me shirmpyyyy? It would’ve been so much more fun. Oh well, I’m not really feeling like tutoring ya no more anyways.” 

You guess calling Jade was a good call, but the slight glint in his eyes causes some uneasiness in you. Letting out a slight chuckle and a one-sided crooked smile, you look up to Jade who now as well stood in front of you. “Aha, yea.. I look forward to it as well.” As you make up your quick plans of when and where to meet, you four all go your own separate ways to head over to class. Thinking to yourself, you really had no choice or say in this with the way they gave you no options whatsoever.  

“Look at you looking so chipper Jade.” Floyd slightly remarks as out of the three, Jade's smile is ever so radiant. 

“Yes, I'm quite pleased that the plan went rather well.”

“‘Pleased’ is such an understatement. You seem more ecstatic to say the least, like how you are always with those batches of mushrooms.”

“Urgh, don't even mention 'em Azul. It's already enough having to hear him talk about his mushrooms and “Shrimpy this” or “Shrimpy that,” blergh.” 

“I’m glad to know I am not a direct victim of his ramblings with you in my stead.”

“Oh how you both wound me so.” And as the three walk off in the opposite direction, the show of bachelorette/bachelor has ended with you and Jade going to meet up for your little date. With Grim being there of course, but under Jade's care he is a rather easy case to take care of and Jade will ensure that things will be under control now. 

The first drops of snow in your heart flutter down as the first lingering thoughts of Jade come hither to rest in your mind. And as Jade proceeds to move his knights in places to ensure his next move winds up being a success, slowly breaking down your wall of pawns to get to the heart of what makes you stay in the game, to obtain your king and end the game. Slowly but surely, his methodical and strategic thinking would lead him to success and only then, would he be able to have your king. A game of chess to where you don't know you’re playing as he stares down at the chessboard.

I’ve been seeing him more often lately… A lingering thought nestles in as you make your way over to class.

Three pawns down, no moves made, and a clear break through heading towards your unprotected king. An open line is presented and clear for him to make a bold break for it. With slight hesitation as he's about to pick up his knight, he then draws back his hand and proceeds to bring his king up instead. 

Present Day 

Nov - 15, XXXX

“Hey Henchman, is it just me or have we been seeing Jade a lot more often recently?”

“Glad to know you’re finally noticing Grim, I've seen him around much more frequently since a couple months ago too. It’s quite…. Odd honestly.” 

I kinda wanna see him some more though…

 “You think he’s trying to get something from us?” Perched on the top of your head, Grim tilts his head forward a little to try and make curious eye contact with you. With his pitchfork-like tail wagging around in the air, you casually make your way down the stairs from NRC’s main building to head back to Ramshackle dorm.

“I hope not. Not like I'll just let him anyway, man I hope we don't see him again.”

I wonder where he could be right now… could he… be busy? It’d be nice to see him again…

With a lift of your foot, another step is placed off the hard slate wooden stairs as you now continue onward. Classes have ended and an assortment of dispersed students with colors consisting of their respecting dorms filter through the halls quickly. Some going back to rest in their dorm rooms, others maybe attending after school club activities, or perhaps some going to pursue their other hobbies. Whatever time is available, every student here uses it to the fullest.

“Ya could say that again. If he comes by again then I’ll just blow out my flames and cook him dry! Nyahaha!”

His arrogant laugh makes you roll your eyes as a soft smile forms on your face, slightly shaking your head with Grims weight on top. “Hah, sure, whatever you say Grim.”

“It's THE Great Grim!” 

With a flick of your wrist and a scoff, you couldn't bother to resay his name just for his own satisfaction even in a sarcastic manner. Tilting your head in a mischievous manner, you feel the weight of Grim scrambling and jumping off with a hoarse yelp coming from him. As he lands on his paws, you let out a giggle watching his scowling face directed towards you. 

“I was trying to look at the sky, but you were in the way, Grim hehehe.” Knowing that was not at all the case, before Grim could retort he pauses and it causes you to stop in your tracks as well. Standing on the gray pavemented pathway near the open ended exit from which you both came from, you looked down at Grim a bit curiously. “Grim? Why’d you stop?”

Now on all fours, Grim perks his head up as if tailing an annoying fly around his head. With more cat-like animatics, Grim starts swirling his head just slightly and sniffing as if he can see a delicious aroma in those cartoon episodes. “Somethin’ smells good…” 

The cold weather makes it hard for odor particles to pass through due to the more compact molecules, however you can tell just how drawn Grim is to whatever may be causing the smell. Taking a big inhale, you try smelling whatever it is that Grim may be smelling, your chest puffing up as you take in a big amount of air in your lungs. 

“I don't smell anything Grim, what are you-”

“Ah! Over there!” It seems he has found the source of whatever it may be he was smelling, pinpointing it rather quickly as he scurries off. “Ah! Wait Grim! Where are you going?!” Before you can follow suit, not so far off a voice calls out and grabs your attention. 

“Ah, good evening prefect.”

Turning your head around, you’re met with no one but Jade. His voice divulging you and making his presence known. Although so suddenly and randomly, you can’t help but feel a sense of tingling in your chest.

Jade!

“J-Jade! What are you doing here?” Changing your position from almost sprinting off, you shift yourself back to face Jade instead to properly converse with him. Upon looking up at him, you note the clouded and dull gray skies as it soars vastly. 

“Classes have ended some time ago, I was merely on the way back to my dorm. I would assume that it’s the same for you, yes?” Jade stood comfortably, not another layer of clothing on him in sight to withstand the colder weather while he sticks to nothing but his usual uniform wear. You, on the other hand, had a thicker jacket on top of your uniform to help adapt to the temperature around. 

“Well, I was. That was until Grim ran off somewhere again. Hah, seriously I might as well forget about trying to chase after him. He can come back whenever he wants.” With a defeated sigh, you slightly slouch forward with your arms swinging from back to back. 

“Hmm well if that's the case, may I walk you back to your dorm?” 

You’ve been getting used to how casual he’s been lately, considering the amount of times you’ve been seeing each other through mere “coincidences.” Though recently whenever Jades around you can't but help to have that lingering feeling of wanting to stay with him just a bit longer. Whenever he leaves he immediately fills up your mind whenever you allow it to and you can't help but let your mind wander. Is this perhaps…?

“Hello? (Y/N)? Are you spacing out?” With his hand waving in front of you to snap you out of your daze, your unfocused stare comes back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Huh? What?” 

How adorable…

“I asked if I could walk you back to your dorm. If you aren’t feeling well then-”

“Oh no! I’m perfectly fine! I just spaced out for a bit haha. But uhm, I don't mind if you did accompany me back.”

In the way you responded allowed you to give you a sense of freedom to where you aren’t actually giving him a direct and decisive response. More so an indecisive one. Slightly fidgeting with the hem of your jacket you give him a lightly aired chuckle to ease up the atmosphere. 

“So I would say you want me to accompany you back, correct?” 

“Well I didn’t say that I didn’t want you to accompany me”

“You’re rather indirect with what you want (Y/N).” With a slight tut, shaking his head like a common motion of showing one's dismay you can only rile backup to defend yourself with reason. 

“No I'm not! I said I didn’t-! Hah, whatever. Fine, I would like it if you were to accompany me back to Ramshackle Jade.” 

“Fufu very well then. It would be my pleasure too.”  Seriously, he seems to always have a way with words. Putting you on the spot like that so easily and casually. 

But at least we’d be able to spend time together again.

The two of you make your way back over to Ramshackle, following the usual pathway you commonly take when out of classes. The silence lingering between you both causes you to fidget some more as you try to make it obvious you're not at all bothered by it. Staring straight ahead while you see Jade in the corner of your eye next to you as you both walk along-side each other, you can only wonder why he isn't saying anything. Usually Jade makes conversation with you whenever you two are together, perhaps he just isn’t feeling all that talkative. An unfamiliar tension is slightly there, one that wasn’t there before and you can't understand why but to only question it. 

Perhaps it's the cold, but you feel your cheeks slightly growing a little red. What other reason could there be? Next to you Jade remains silent while peacefully walking next to you, and without your knowledge, he smiles just slightly feeling a slight of anticipation.

“Curious, but do you maybe know why Grim ran off (Y/N)?” Jade finally breaks the silence by asking a question, you feel a slight relief in your chest. 

“Aha, I don't know. He said that he smelled something good… Maybe food? Probably someone is snacking around here and he may be a victim to Grim’s antics and persistence haha.”

“That is not the case” Looking over to Jade who sounds so sure of himself, it quizzes a question out of you. “What do you mean? How can you be so sure?”

“Why, I would know of course. Because I was the one who placed some salted steamed fish near the bushes.”  

“What? Then why’d you ask?!” With a nonchalant smile on his face it can only be contrasted to your taken back and startled reaction. Placing a hand on your back, Jade continues the path while guiding you along to continue further with him. “Wait, more importantly why did you do that?”

Jade stays quiet, that smile still on his face as he continues to keep his hand on your back. Wait, now that you think about it you two are going off course and straying from the usual path you take to head back to Ramshackle. With your heart quickening in your chest, you can only start to nervously sweat at where this is going. “U-Uh Jade? Where are we going? What are you doing?” 

As his eyes slowly turn to look at you, his head still facing forward however and his smile ever the same, you can't help but to shiver a bit and get a feeling that whatever he’s planning isn't going to go well. “Oya, there’s no need to be so nervous now. I thought we might take a detour to enjoy the weather a bit more.” 

“No but uh, you didn't answer my ques-” Suddenly bringing his hand from your back to wrap around your shoulders, he draws you close into his side and it prompts you to stop your walk and just freeze from the surprise. “Why? Well I simply wanted to be alone with you of course.”

Your whole right side of your body is pressed up against his left side. With wide eyes, you don't dare to look over to Jade, refusing to let him see your sudden flusteredness. Your heart is beating so loud that you’re hoping that he can’t hear it as well. His arm around you almost longingly, the sudden stillness as you both don't move a muscle, and the sound of your heart beating at a rapid pace as if on a roller coaster. You really wish you could say that the whole reason your face is red is because of the cold and your body temperature just suddenly dropped! But it would make more sense that you’d be blue and purple then red… So then why exactly are you-

“Oh dear, look at you getting so red in the face. Do you perhaps like the weight of my arm around you?” You didn’t even notice, too occupied in your own thoughts and spacing out, that Jade had proceeded to lean forward to be face to face with you. “Wha-!”

A pleased smile is formed as he sees you snap out of your thoughts and he leans back up and adjusts his arm around you to let it sit more comfortably. Looking back up at the scenery the sky has to hold, he holds you ever so lovingly and affirmably. 

“J-Jade what is- what are-! What’s going on!?” Matching the weather, you freeze stiffly in his hold, unfamiliar to his loving touch. It was rather unusual for him to make such a bold and tender move, a foreign feeling yet for you to adjust to. 

The sky is covered in splotches of clouded gray cotton, the meek shine from the sun is still blocked by the airy cold sheet of gas yet still blinding to look at. Inhaling the dewy air that gives oneself a sense of refreshment, Jade closes his eyes and tilts his head up to admire the brightened gray scale that vasts above you both. 

“Tell me, Prefect,” beginning to speak calmly, you try to distract yourself from your close proximity and focus on what he had to say next. “The moon is quite beautiful, is it not?” 

“What?” Killing your stiffness, you’re found to be quite dumbfounded and caught off guard. “What are you talking about Jade? It’s still daytime and the moon isn’t even-”

Pausing, you let his words sink in. The moon isn’t out. His arms are around you. You both are together, secluded. You are alone with him. No Grim. No Deuce. No Floyd. No Azul. Just you and him. 

Badum. Wait, is he…

Badum. Did he just tell me…

Badum. Badum. Badum. He knows what that means…

Badumbadumbadumbadumbadum! He just told me he loves-!

“Cat got your tongue? I hope that isn’t the case, it was the only reason why I sent Grim away from us after all.” His thumb is soothingly rubbing circles into your arm while he keeps you in place, ensuring you don't spring up or leave from his hold in any way. This was like his own way of trying to calm you down, fully aware of how thunderstruck you may be at the moment; the motions of his gesture somewhat helping. 

“Jade.”

“Yes?”

“Back in the lounge…. You….”

“Yes, indeed. I said the same thing then as well.”

“Then you… Are you saying- that you… Did you just…”

No longer looking at the sky, he turns his head to give you his full undivided attention, waiting for you patiently to make your conclusion. Still refusing to look him in the eyes, you droop your head lower just a little as you feel yourself getting smaller in his arm. Bringing your hands together, your fingers start to fiddle with each limb and cloth it can find near its reach, usually playing around with the hem of your uniform under the blanket of your jacket. 

Slightly opening your mouth, your brows furrow and you swear you can feel your knees go slightly weak if not for the support of his arm grounding you. “I…”

This man is playing with me right now. 

Without even having to look, you can just feel his eyes on you. Finally reverting back to your more casual self, you shake your head with a sigh feeling more calm. “Hah, okay Jade I love you too.”

“My, what a bold confession there.” 

“At least I didn’t confess indirectly.”Finally looking up at him, you give him a bit of sass as you roll your eyes and a chuckle escapes his lips. His grip becomes slightly more firm and if you were to lean on his chest, you can swear that his heart was beating just as loudly as yours. 

“You’re finally looking at me, my dear Pearl.” His eyes soften as you look into his olive and golden eyes, his voice laced with such affection that it makes your body feel tingling with how much warmth it held despite the cold air. “Pearl…” Slowly repeating what he said quietly, letting the words sink in further more, your eyes widen and a slight sparkle glosses over. His other hand comes over and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb against the softness it brings. “Yes, my Pearl.” Jade droops his head lower till your foreheads touch, releasing his hold on your shoulder to then cup the other side of your face. Your cheeks might just be comparable to that of a hand warmer, but you can't help it. Not when he’s being so tender like this. Not when he’s locking eyes with you while giving you the most love-stricken smile ever. Not when you two are so close. “The moon is very beautiful right Jade?” You softly lull out, the growing thoughts of him filling up your head space.

“Very, it really is beautiful.” A little giggle ushers out, a giddy smile and tender hands. A loving look and a fond voice. A dovey feeling and a pacing heart. There, on the side of the public pavement road, stood two lovebirds where the trees bristle through the wind and hide them both perfectly. “It’s very enchanting if I must add. The moon that is. In fact, its shape and glow is similar to one of a pearl. A very beautiful one indeed.”

Tilting your head a little closer, your foreheads staying connected as he continues to hold your face and your hands on his, his words only make you quirk a wider smile. “You know, you’re making my heart beat very fast right now you know that? If I die because of you, you’d be put behind bars.” 

“Hmmmm, really now? And what makes you so sure I'd allow them to catch me so easily?” 

“Why do I like you?”

“In fact you don’t. You professed you love me not too long ago.”

“You’re right, unfortunately. I do, in fact, love you Jade Leech.”

Months of preparation, months filled with longing, months filled with shadowed moves, months filled with perseverance and patience, Jade Leech has finally accomplished what he’s worked for in one swell swoop from you. A kiss to the lips from the person who he always loved from the sidelines, now here in his hold as they reciprocate his mutual feelings. 

Can we stay in this moment forever?

Watching you with the way you close your eyes just to kiss him, can he just stay in this moment forever? Forever to see the way your lashes sprawl out, long enough for him to count each and every piece of hair. Forever to feel your lips against his, long enough to remember the sensation and feeling of your soft lips. Forever to engulf himself in your natural aroma, long enough to have a sense of peace when he smells your scent. With his eyes open, even in the kiss he can't help but to just close it. Not when someone so beautiful is right in front of him. The first to place a kiss and the first to draw back from it, you quickly turn back around and bury your face in your hands. 

Ah, they're getting all shy now. I wish it would have lasted longer…

“Ohmyfuckinggodijustkissedhimmmmm!” Whilst squealing in your hands Jade comes over and wraps his arms around your hunched figure, fully embracing you as he starts to feel gushy himself and nuzzles his cheek on the crown of your head. A big goofy silly smile on his face. 

“Oh what’s wrong my dear Pearl? You’re so red that it can rival Riddle's hair.”

“Hah, I wonder who’s causing such a symptom.” Removing your hands away from your face, you turn your head to meet Jade's beaming smile and red cheeks with your slight pouty and red face.

“I would gladly like to proclaim that I was the cause of such said symptoms.”

“Gosh why did I even-”

Turning his head closer to yours as he leans over your shoulder, his voice suddenly becomes low and serious. The way he can suddenly change the mood with his tone tickles your ear and sends chills down your spine in a good way. His arms around your figure hugging you securely like a vine wrapping itself against a gate. 

“I want to be the only one to make you feel this way, to have you look this way, to have you react this way. I would gladly like to be the reason for it knowing your affections for me are genuine. Just for you, I’d love to be that reason.” 

… 

“Fufufu, oh? To think your face couldn’t get any more red. Look at you, oh how wrong I was~”

“Jade you little-!” 

Turning around to engulf him in the same manner, you bury yourself in his chest. There you go, now you can confirm for real that his heart was indeed beating just as fast as yours. Standing still to hold each other in your arms, your red and burning face finding shelter in his bosom while he radiates a silly smile with red coated cheeks, you take the time to remember how things even came to be the way they are now. And as the two of you indulge each other, far off in Ramshackle dorm Grim is looking around to see if you’ve yet arrived. 

Moving his king up now in front of yours, thinking you’d make no move, he’s caught off guard as you pick up your king and take his. After all his chess pieces have eaten yours, nothing left but your king stood hopeful for him to take. Yet what a surprise of events that your heart took in the final move. It was a checkmate, and in the palm of your hand you gently held his king close to your heart. 

tag! - @thehollowwriter @pandaforcexd @officialdaydreamer00

I hope you guys enjoyed this read, sorry it took forever!

[ai-satin-chic]

Let's Get Going!

Firstly, many thanks to @burningpoisonroaster for running the 18th edition of the AI Creator Challenge. It's not easy to run, so I really appreciate @burningpoisonroaster for stepping up this time.

Special thanks also go to @dryndelicate and @danni-gurrl who helped get this challenge off the ground. It's gone from a little game with three creators to a fun competition where multiple talented artists participate. I'd also like to thank everyone who has entered previous themes - I'm always astonished at the quality of the artwork. As always, if you want to see previous entries, click here.

Anyway, on to my entry. As some of you may know, I generally only post single images or videos, so doing multiple images and stories like this definitely pushes me out of my comfort zone!

From the earliest days of my childhood, I've been captivated by the vast expanse of the cosmos and humanity's relentless pursuit to explore it. The grainy black-and-white footage of the Apollo 11 moon landing, though it occurred long before my time, never failed to fill me with awe. It represented not just a "giant leap for mankind," but a testament to human ingenuity, courage, and our innate desire to push beyond known frontiers.

As I grew older, my fascination with space travel only intensified. I marveled at the rapid advancements in technology that allowed us to venture further into the unknown. The Space Shuttle program, the International Space Station, and the myriad of robotic explorers sent to distant planets and moons each marked significant milestones in our cosmic journey. These achievements transformed space travel from the stuff of science fiction into tangible reality, bridging the gap between imagination and possibility.

Today, as we stand on the cusp of a new era in space exploration, the progress we've made is nothing short of astounding. Private companies are opening up access to space like never before, reusable rockets are becoming the norm, and ambitious plans for lunar bases and Mars missions are taking shape. The dreams that once seemed impossibly distant are now within our grasp. As I reflect on the trajectory of space travel, from those first tentative steps on lunar soil to our current bold strides towards becoming a multi-planetary species, I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of wonder and optimism for the journey we are all on. And what could be a grander journey than the exploration of space?

@dryndelicate @danni-gurrl @gigiprinceton @ai-satin-chic

@softsmooth69 @alyssa-ai @fluffyfaza @synth-ai

@mohairmaster @mistressmaurahypno @hollyjumper

@andysfantasie @milunessence @anderii @bumani

@burningpoisonroaster

[charlosvibesonly]

New Romantics

A Max Verstappen Imagine

Pairing : Max Verstappen x fem! reader

Part 1

A chilly evening at Max's cozy home, lights casting a warm glow on the walls. Max and Y/N are cuddled on the plush couch, their laughter and the occasional purring of the cats creating a comforting atmosphere. The soft hum of the TV plays in the background.

Y/N: (teasingly) "Your cats seem to like me more than you do, Max."

Max: (grinning) "Well, maybe they know something I don't."

Y/N chuckles, leaning in for a kiss, but Max's expression shifts, clouded by the recent media storm.

Max: (sighs) "You know, sometimes I feel like they're right. Like I'm just a guy in a fast car."

Y/N: (softly) "Max, don't let them get to you. You're an incredible driver. Your dad would be proud."

Max: (looking away) "He always pushed me. Said I had to be the best. But lately, it feels like I'm drowning in expectations."

Y/N reaches out, taking Max's hand

Y/N: "My mom was the same. She pushed me to be strong, independent. But it's okay to lean on someone, Max. You don't have to carry the weight alone."

Max: (meeting her gaze) "I want to be the best, for him, for us. But it's hard."

Y/N: "You're already the best, Max. Not just on the track, but in here." She places her hand on his heart.

Max leans in, forehead touching Y/N's

Max: "I don't say it enough, but having you by my side... it makes all of this bearable."

Y/N: (smiling) "That's what partners are for, right?"

They share a lingering kiss, the connection deepening.

Days pass, their love evolving into a comfortable routine. However, the weight of schedules and the lack of spontaneity begin to strain their relationship.

Y/N, dressed in her black dress is enjoying a lively party with friends. Laughter fills the air as they gather in a chic rooftop bar, overlooking the city's skyline.

She runs into Lando.

As the night progresses, Y/N and Lando find themselves engrossed in conversation, reminiscing about races and sharing personal anecdotes.

Lando: "You and Max, huh? The power couple of the track. How's it going?"

Y/N: (grinning) "It's like navigating a racetrack blindfolded, Lando. Fast, unpredictable, and occasionally we hit a few bumps."

Lando: (teasingly) "Well, as long as you're not swapping helmets with anyone else."

Y/N laughs, her eyes flickering with a playful spark.

Y/N: "No helmet swaps, I promise. Just the usual chaos and occasional drama."

Lando: "Drama, you say? Spill the tea, Y/N. I'm all ears."

Y/N leans in, sharing a whispered detail about the media frenzy surrounding Max, her voice mixed with amusement and concern.

Lando: (raising an eyebrow) "Media troubles? That's a new one. But hey, Max can handle it, right?"

Y/N: (nodding) "He's trying, but sometimes the pressure gets to him. And honestly, I miss him when he's away practicing."

They clink glasses, the distant city lights providing a picturesque backdrop.

Lando: "Speaking of which, where is Max tonight? Training hard, I presume?"

Y/N: (sighing) "Yeah, he's in the zone. Sometimes I wish he'd take a breather, but the championship dreams are driving him."

The night unfolds, and Y/N finds herself torn between the joy of her friends' company and the absence of Max.

Later, when the party begins to wind down, Y/N receives a text from Max.

Max: Hey, how's the party? Missing you.

Y/N: It's good, but not the same without you. Miss you too.

Y/N returns to her hotel room, and Max is back from practice. The atmosphere is tense as they face each other.

Max: (looking at his phone) "Care to explain this?"

Y/N: (confused) "What are you talking about?"

Max shows her the viral picture – Y/N whispering into Lando's ear, smiles frozen in a moment of intimacy.

Max: "This, Y/N! People are saying you're cheating on me."

Y/N: (shocked) "What? Max, it's not what it looks like. Lando's a friend, and we were just talking. Someone must've misunderstood."

Max, fueled by the pressure of upcoming races and the online accusations, struggles to control his frustration.

Max: "Misunderstood? You're whispering into his ear! How do you expect me to feel, seeing this crap?"

Y/N: (defensive) "You know I'd never cheat on you, Max. This is ridiculous. We were just having a conversation. It was harmless."

Max, however, finds it hard to brush off the viral image.

Max: (angry) "Harmless? Do you know how it feels to see people question your relationship? To doubt if the person you care about is staying true?"

Y/N: (emotional) "I hate that you're hurting, Max. But I won't let baseless rumors ruin us. We need to trust each other."

Max, in a fit of frustration, paces around the room.

Max: "Trust? Easy for you to say. I'm out there pushing myself to the limit, and this is what I get in return?"

Y/N: (teary-eyed) "This isn't about trust issues, Max. It's about us, about weathering storms together. But if you can't handle that..."

The room falls silent, the weight of their words lingering in the air.

Max: (softening) "Y/N, I... I didn't mean to lash out. It's just, everything's getting to me."

Y/N: (whispers) "I get it, Max. But we can't let the world tear us apart. We have something real."

In a cozy, dimly lit restaurant in London, tucked away from the bustling streets. Max and Y/N sit across from each other, a mixture of emotions in the air.

Max: (nervously playing with his napkin) "Y/N, we've been through a lot. Ups and downs, fights and kisses. And I wouldn't change any of it for the world."

Y/N: (smiling softly) "Me neither. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been our rollercoaster."

Max takes a deep breath, his eyes locked onto hers.

Max: "I've been thinking a lot about us, about our future. And, well, I can't imagine it without you."

Y/N: (curious) "Max, what are you...?"

Max interrupts her, getting down on one knee, a small velvet box in hand.

Max: "Y/N, I can't promise it'll always be easy. Hell, knowing us, it probably won't be. But I promise to be everything you need and more. Will you marry me?"

Y/N, surprised and overwhelmed, hesitates for a moment before a smile spreads across her face.

Y/N: (teasingly) "Max Verstappen, getting down on one knee? Never thought I'd see the day."

Max: (grinning) "Well, there's a first time for everything."

Y/N chuckles, her eyes sparkling with emotion.

Y/N: "Alright then, Max. You drive me crazy, but... yes, I'll marry you."

Max's face lights up with joy. He slips the ring onto her finger, and they share a passionate kiss, sealing their promise amid the romantic ambiance of the London night.

Max: "To us, Y/N. Ready for whatever comes our way?"

Y/N: "Ready as I'll ever be, Max."

They clink glasses, surrounded by the warmth of their love and the city's twinkling lights, ready to face the new chapter they've just written together.