#Blazer Exhibits & Events

[hyunsvngs]

𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐲 - kim seungmin x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)

wc: 6.6k

cw: very mean dom seungmin, like seriously very mean, mc being a whore, sex with no strings (again), SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: following the events of your almost-orgy, you can’t stop thinking about a certain someone and the way he behaved in bed.

a/n: y’all asked and i delivered! jk this was happening regardless. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT! here is part six of hot bitch summer, our frat skz au. smut warnings under the cut!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: creampie, dom seungmin, sub reader, a LOT OF DIRTY TALK, one (1) face slap, spanking (mc rec), fingering, grinding, multiple orgasms!, seungmin cums in mc’s mouth, seungmin is VERY MEAN, safeword negotiations (it’s never used), lovely soft aftercare and a friendship blooming tho <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Minho’s hips smacked against your ass as he fucked into you, that large vein on his thick length doing wonders against your fluttering walls. You’d lost count of how many times you’d already cum around him, something he’d probably tease you about later - but you could care less when he had you in this position, tummy pressed flat against his mattress and his cock bullying into your hole with zero restraint. 

You wanted more, though. You wanted it rougher, harder, deeper.

“Min, please, harder! Be rough with me, please, I can take it-”

You were cut off when an arm wrapped around your neck, yanking you back so your chest pressed flush against his toned stomach. You could feel his milky skin against yours, soft but dewy with sweat from the exertion of fucking you deep like this. Your own back wasn’t faring too well, the dew on your skin making you slide around against him. 

“Be rough with you? This isn’t rough enough, slut?” Minho murmured into your ear, his teeth nipping your earlobe. You shook your head rapidly, hands going to grip around Minho’s forearm while he fucked into you without abandon. You were gonna cum like this, you realised - for the umpteenth time around him.

“No, ‘s good, just- I’m gonna cum, I need rough, please?” You managed to stammer out, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against you. Minho let out a small, mirthless chuckle, as if he was going to shake his head in disbelief.

“You want it so bad, why don’t you go to Seungmin and be his little painslut?” Oh. My. God. With those words and an expertly positioned thrust to your g-spot, you fell apart around Minho, whining and babbling incoherently. You could feel your wetness flood his cock once again, and Minho groaned. His hands moved to your hips to hold you tightly against him, shooting ropes of hot cum into your core.

Later on, when you were cleaned up and thoroughly fucked, you laid on Minho’s chest with him scrolling through social media on his phone. You watched him like Felix’s newest post before commenting something about how he looked like a baby chick, before he continued scrolling absentmindedly. His thumb paused on the screen when he came to Seungmin’s post.

You blinked hazily at the screen. Okay, it had been on your mind, admittedly - the way Seungmin had behaved during the time you all had fun. It was a week ago at that point. Maybe it had been invading your dreams at night. It had clearly been invading your sex with Minho. He also looked really, really good in the picture, which just didn’t help at all. It looked like he was at an event of some sort - perhaps one of Hyunjin’s art exhibits - and he was in a plain black blazer, shirtless underneath, with a chain around his neck. He just looked expensive. It had you thinking of all the ways he could ruin you. Would he deny you in bed, or would he make you cum over and over-

Minho’s head had turned to look directly at you, and he was laughing. Unashamed, loud, full body laughs that really gave away just how humiliating you looked in that second. “You know, if you just promised him you’d be good, he’d fuck you.”

“Shut up!” You huffed, burying your face in the fabric of Minho’s tee. Then, you thought about it. That’s all you had to do? Be good? Not be a brat? Yeah, you could do that. You looked up at him, one eye exposed. “For real? He would?”

Your voice was slightly muffled in his clothing, but Minho nodded anyway, still with a stupid smile on his face.

You took that advice to heart. The next day, after yet another sleepover with Minho that ended up in you getting fucked into the mattress, you walked down the hallway to Seungmin’s room and knocked on the door rapidly. Just ask. Just say you’ll be good for him, and-

He swung open the door quickly, glasses perched on his nose. He was shirtless, in just plaid pyjama bottoms. Planes of lightly tanned skin clung to just a slight ghost of abdominal muscles beneath, taking over your entire vision. Oh God. He wanted you to die. He actually wanted you to die.

“Um, so,” You began. You chuckled nervously, ringing your fingers together. Staring at your feet, you blushed crimson. You could do this. Just say it. “So. After last time, y’know, I’ve kind of been thinking. Maybe… would you wanna? Y’know. Fuck. I’ll be good for you, I won’t be a brat. Haha, Minho told me to say that bit, so-”

“Nope.” The door slammed in your face, and you were left blinking at the wood in front of you. Oh. Right. Okay. You had been well and truly humiliated - you were cursing Minho internally for giving you this dumb idea - but you decided not to let it take over your senses.

It was alright - you could get away with only fucking seven of them. Life goes on.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Except, life didn’t fucking go on. Less than a week after you’d been rejected by Seungmin, the air conditioning in your dorm house was well and truly shot. You were pacing around the kitchen for five minutes dumbly in just a sports bra and shorts before you realised you could actually call someone about it. You could get someone out to fix it - I mean, surely they still had people working over the summer on campus to fix these kinds of things, right?

A quick phone call informed you that no, they don’t. It would take a week minimum for someone to come out and fix your air conditioning, and even with every single window open, your body was still covered in a thin sheen of sweat that made your hair way more greasy than normal. You’d tried cold showers. They just made you heat up way quicker when you got out. You’d even tried buying one of those expensive fans, but it just blew hot air around the place and made you want to jump off of a cliff. Why exactly had you decided to stay on campus over the summer again?

The boys were going home for a week tomorrow, too, which not only put a stop to your hot bitch summer plans temporarily but also left you without friends. Why is life so hard?

You sighed, throwing yourself down to lounge on your sofa. The leather stuck to your skin uncomfortably. You wanted death. Craved it, even. You picked up your phone with a lot of hesitation before clicking on your texts.

[9:31am] You: min. i need a favour 

Definitely sounded more suggestive than you’d intended, but that’s okay. Before you could ponder on what he was going to reply, his contact image flashed on your phone notifying you that he was calling you. You swiped to accept, putting him on speaker. Your body would simply go into oversensitivity if you put the phone to your ear. 

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Minho sounded concerned. You sighed deeply. 

“My air conditioning is broken. Like, dead. I was going to ask if any of you knew how to fix it?” 

Minho groaned on the other end. “Sorry, baby, no. Felix’s knowledge stops at computers, unfortunately. Can no one come to fix it?”

You wanted to die. It was so fucking hot. Minho’s voice wasn’t exactly making it better, to be honest. “Nope. It’d take a whole week apparently, because of it being the summer and the air conditioning systems being like, I don’t know. I stopped listening.”

“Of course you did,” Minho hummed. There was a beat of silence before you heard a little ‘aha’ come from his mouth. “Stay here for the week. No one will be here, so you’d have the house to yourself.”

A whole frat house to yourself? Damn. It would definitely be a lot less claustrophobic than the house you were currently in. Their house was huge, after all. You could get a lot done. Not that you had a lot to do, but… it would be nice. Their air conditioning also actually worked, so that’s a bonus. “Oh. Sure. Okay. Shall I pack my stuff and come now, or…?”

“Mm, maybe not, baby. We’ve all got to get up early tomorrow to leave, and I’ll just end up fucking you into the mattress if you come now,” Minho mused. You could hear the slight amusement in his voice, knowing the effect the words would have on you. You groaned despairingly, kicking your feet around on the couch. “I’ll leave the key in the dead plant outside. Come tomorrow morning.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The key was in the dead plant outside of the house. You wondered briefly why they even had a potted plant, a house full of eight men who could barely take care of themselves, let alone a plant. You remembered the time Jeongin briefly had a goldfish in the first year of university. It hadn’t gone well, and you’d all had to hold a very dramatic funeral three weeks later. Jeongin sang in the funeral through his tears.

Stuffing the key in the lock, you swung open the front door and slammed it shut behind you. Silence. Honestly, the frat house had never been so silent before. Jisung was always screaming. Changbin was also always screaming. Chan had headaches all the time. It was never silent. 

Still, you moved upstairs with your duffle bag and just dumped it on Minho’s bed. The air conditioning was sweet, a harsh breeze against your skin. You already felt cool, relaxed. The house was really so big too, you could have so many pets living here. 

When you made your way back downstairs, you were in search of a nice, cold lemonade. You knew there was some in the fridge since you’d put it in there yourself, and you were hellbent on getting it. As you passed the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was someone sitting on the sofa. Your heart picked up speed, eyes widening. No one was meant to be here. Everyone was away. Which meant… oh my God, someone had broken in. You were alone. It was like that horror movie you’d watched with Jisung where you’d both ended up crying. 

You blinked, squinting to look further into the room. The figure’s back was facing you, dark hair clipped back on his head and his fingers clicking away at a laptop. Okay, if he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t have a laptop. You leaned in subconsciously, barely making out the clips in his hair, until Pochacco was staring you dead in the face. His stupid cute face was printed onto the clips. 

Seungmin.

You’re safe. Wait, no, you’re totally not. Why is he here? You walked into the room, pointing at him straight in his face. Seungmin looked up at you, eyes wide and owlish. His hands had paused on the keyboard of his laptop. He literally had a sheet mask on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” You hissed. “You literally gave me a heart attack, Seungmin. I almost died.”

Seungmin scoffed, eyebrows furrowing. “I… live here, Y/N. I thought you knew that.”

You rolled your eyes, hands now on your hips. “Well yeah. I knew that. That’s the exact sofa where we-“ you blanched. The exact sofa where you got fucked senseless by Felix while Seungmin commanded you around. “Nevermind.”

A smile played on Seungmin’s full lips, and he shook his head, turning his attention back to his laptop. “I’m guessing Minho didn’t tell you I’d be here.”

No. No, he fucking didn’t. “Is it obvious?”

“You literally just said you almost had a heart attack seeing me,” He was still typing furiously, before he nodded towards the space next to him. “Come and sit. I don’t bite.”

Wish you would. You moved towards the sofa, hesitating before just deciding to sit on it with enough distance between you two. “So, uh… whatcha doing?” 

Seungmin raised an eyebrow beneath the thin sheet mask. He didn’t respond, only turning the laptop to face you on his lap. There, in black and white, was the Hall of Fame blog except… there was a new post being written. About who, you had no clue. Some random. More importantly, Seungmin was making a new post there, which meant it was him. All of your suspicions had been confirmed.

“I… I fucking knew it, Kim Seungmin,” You whispered. Seungmin smiled, turning the laptop back to him. “Is that- is that why you’ve stayed here?! To work on… this?! Seungmin, it’s really bad, y’know. You write about people’s lives on that page.”

“Hey,” Seungmin admonished. “I do not. Well, okay, I do. I always use initials, though. No one knows it’s for sure about anyone.”

That was fair, you supposed. You shrugged. Seungmin started to slowly peel the face mask away from his skin, revealing his facial features to you. It dropped to the wooden floor messily before you spoke again, with a question this time. “Can I help?” 

Seungmin shrugged. “I’m currently writing a piece about how this girl has no girl code and kissed her friend’s boyfriend at a frat party the other night. Got sent in anonymously - I presume it was sent by the friend. You know anything about that?”

You thought hard. If it was what you thought it was, then yeah, you did. Jisung had mentioned something about it when you saw him last. “I think it was that girl… Teri, is it? She did kiss her friend’s boyfriend.”

Seungmin nodded, amused. You’d gotten into his good books at least. He started to tap away on his laptop, and you sidled up closer to watch him. He didn’t seem to mind, turning the laptop back slightly towards you so you could see.

He did have a way with words, and never gave away too much, but it made you think.

“Hey, Seungmin?” Seungmin perked up, making a little hum as acknowledgement. “Why have you never written anything about me? I mean, this hot bitch summer thing has surely got to be something you’d write about.”

Seungmin’s fingers paused again. He turned to you with an almost horrified expression on his face. “It’s a gossip column. I only write about stuff that’s wrong. Morally wrong things that people have done, and even then I give them dignity by keeping it relatively anonymous. How is what you’re doing wrong?” 

You stayed quiet, staring at him blankly. 

“Listen, Y/N,” He sighed, shutting his laptop. “I think what you’re doing is fucking awesome. Power to the pussy. You wanna know why I won’t fuck you?”

You nodded, arms wrapped around your legs where you sat. “I thought it was because you didn’t want to.”

Seungmin let out a small laugh, fingers moving to brush your hair behind your ear. The air conditioning’s high setting was blowing your hair everywhere, and he took a second to smooth the locks down. “Believe me, I want to. I just don’t think you could handle it.” 

“I definitely could,” you blurted. Then, you didn’t stop blurting. “Handle it, I mean. I could. Totally. I got a taste for it the other week and honestly? It’s kind of been plaguing my mind. Like, I kind of need it, Seungmin. I need to know. I’m so fucking curious, and-“

“This is the first problem,” Seungmin’s hand fell. He slipped the clips out of his hair, throwing him onto the floor where he’d dropped the face mask. “You don’t stop fucking talking. Have you ever thought of being quiet for more than five seconds?”

You shook your head, smiling teasingly. “I can’t say I have, no.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. He placed his laptop on the floor alongside his discarded items, off to the side of the sofa. “Are you really that curious?”

“So curious.”

“Get on the floor in front of me. On your knees,” Seungmin spoke, his voice suddenly monotone and strict. You were quick to follow his demands. Minho had told you to be good for him, after all. You sunk onto the floor on your knees, feeling the wood biting into your kneecaps. Looking up at Seungmin expectantly, he scoffed. “Don’t fucking look at me.”

Oh. Your eyes immediately dropped to the floor, feeling a telltale wetness pool in your core. 

“Listen. Don’t talk,” Seungmin began. His hands were placed calmly on his legs, over another pair of those fucking plaid pyjama bottoms. At least he was wearing a shirt this time. Not for long, hopefully. “I’m going to give you a taster. I’m not going to take it easy on you. If you don’t like it, we walk away, move on and never comment on it again. If you like it, we will continue. How does that sound?”

You nodded.

“So dumb. You can talk now, obviously. I asked you a question.” 

“Yeah, Seungmin. It sounds good,” You mumbled, still staring at the floor. Seungmin leaned forward, pulling your head back sharply by your hair. You fluttered your eyes shut, unwilling to look at him until he’d given you permission. You would be good. Minho had told you to be. 

“Ready?” Seungmin asked. You hummed, and that seemed to be enough for him, because in one flurry of movement he’d raised one large hand and it was colliding against your cheek sharply. You could feel the skin already smarting, and you’d let out a loud, obnoxious moan at the pain. You wanted more - no, you needed more. 

“Oh. My God,” you huffed out, chest heaving. You heard Seungmin chuckle condescendingly above you. 

“You fucking liked that, didn’t you?” 

He dropped your hair, leaning back. You nodded again at his words, rather eagerly, biting your lip. “Seungmin, oh my God. Please fuck me. Please?”

“Hmm. Sure, why not? I’ll play with you for a bit,” He mused. You could hear movement again, your eyes still shut. “Open your eyes. You can come to my bedroom with me.” 

Immediately, your eyes opened, and you were scrambling to your feet. Seungmin had already started to walk out of the room and towards the large staircase leading to the bedrooms, and you had to pick up your pace to follow him. You knew where his room was. It was the same door you’d been rejected at - but now, you knew the reason for your rejection, and he knew you could handle it. You couldn’t fucking wait, almost vibrating with excitement. 

Seungmin sat at the edge of his bed, legs spread. To avert your eyes from trying to stare at his dick, your eyes flitted around the room. It was neat. Pristine. Not one thing was out of place, including the white sheets. Even the blankets were tucked in the corner like a bed in a hotel. It made sense - you could remember Jisung and Seungmin being roommates before they joined the frat, and Seungmin always had something to say to Jisung regarding the state of the room. 

Seungmin was a man who liked control. You could see that, most definitely, and it showed outside of sex too. It made you excited.

“I’m going to ask you again. Are you sure?” Seungmin spoke up. You finally looked at him, taking in his appearance. His face was still slightly dewy from the face mask and his plump lips were parted as he looked at you, eyes soft. The plaid pyjama bottoms encased his long legs, making him look way taller than he actually was, but the oversized t-shirt made him look like the soft boy you actually knew. Well, the soft boy you were getting to know. What better way to get to know him than to fall into bed with him? 

“I’m sure, Seungmin,” You breathed out. You felt like you were getting a bit too excited, maybe. “I’ll… I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

“I’m afraid that’s not what I’m looking for, Y/N. I want it to be too much. Come and sit on my lap,” You obeyed, scurrying over to straddle those long legs. His hands immediately went to your hips, drawing soothing circles over your hip bones. “If it’s too much, I want you to say ‘red’. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that,” You were speaking in a whisper again. Seungmin nodded, seemingly pleased.

Then, he was lurching forward, hand on the back of your head and bringing you in for a searing kiss. Those plump lips felt as good as they looked, slamming against you in a haze of vanilla chapstick and dominance. You immediately keened into the kiss, hands going up into his hair to try and get more of his lips against yours. Seungmin grabbed your hands instinctively, returning them to your lap. 

“I’m not going to spank you for that, but one more disobedience, and I will,” He mumbled against your lips. You nodded, waiting patiently for him to kiss you again. He delivered - tongue immediately pressing into your mouth in a heated kiss instead. You let your lips work in harmony with his, a simple kiss turning into a heavy makeout session. It didn’t last long enough, though - he was quickly pulling away with a few more pecks to your lips. “Bend over my lap.”

Huh? “But- you said you weren’t going to-?”

“I’m not going to spank that pretty ass. Dumb sluts don’t ask questions,” Seungmin scoffed. “Be a good little bitch and bend over my lap. I’m not asking again.”

Oh God. You immediately scrambled to lay your tummy over his legs, and he was quick to yank your joggers down. You’d realised it had been getting close to laundry day, and so all you had left really were your skimpy thongs that were to be hand washed delicately. 

“So you can follow orders, huh? Shocking,” Seungmin spat, one hand rubbing over your asscheek. With a quick move, he was pulling your ass apart. His other hand pressed your head down into the bed firmly. “Tell me again. How long have you wanted this? How long have you wanted to be treated like a fucktoy by me?”

You squirmed, sighing. “Since- since that night. With the others. Haven’t stopped thinking about it, Seungmin.”

Seungmin hummed, slender fingers pulling your thong down and revealing your pussy to him. You knew your folds were wet, slick and ready for him to fill you with something - his tongue, his fingers, his dick. You didn’t care at that point. 

“Makes sense. This pussy’s fucking wet, didn’t need any convincing,” His lithe digits slid through your folds, teasing your hole over and over but not quite pushing in. You just had to keep repeating the same thing in your head - be good, be good, be fucking good. 

You couldn’t hold back the shifting of your hips, however, trying to push back to gain more friction.

“Stop squirming,” Seungmin sighed. You nodded into the sheets, willing your hips to stop moving. On a particularly well timed brush against your hole though, your hips shifted again, a sigh falling from your own lips. Seungmin’s hand raised and came down against the flesh of your ass with a harsh smack, the skin rippling with the force. You gasped, head raising from the sheets. “I said to stop fucking squirming. Are you stupid or did you just choose not to listen?” 

You blinked, willing the haze to leave your eyes as you tried to focus on the scene. “I’m s-sorry. Sorry Seungmin.” 

With another quick move, Seungmin was flinging the fabric wrapped around your ankles off the rest of your legs and pulling you back upright into his lap. You were confused, wondering why he hadn’t fingered you, before he was looking into your eyes with a firm grip on your chin. It was a soft look on his face, a wordless question - are you doing okay? You smiled softly in response, and he looked to be holding back his own smile. 

Dropping his grip on you, he leaned back, leisurely resting on his hands. “You want to get off? Go on. You can grind on my lap. You lost the pleasure of having my fingers in you when you disobeyed me.”

“On- on your lap?” You asked, eyes looking down at the bulge encased in plaid fabric. He wasn’t quite hard, maybe half hard at a push. Seungmin didn’t answer your question, simply raising an eyebrow.

You hesitantly ground your clit down against Seungmin’s bulge. It was surprisingly pleasurable, perhaps too pleasurable - you were already holding back noises at the feeling of it against your swollen bud. You could feel the wetness starting to accumulate on Seungmin’s trousers, and you whined, leaning back with your hands splayed on his knees to get a better angle. 

“Feeling good?” Seungmin asked. The t-shirt you were wearing was almost covering you completely, but Seungmin was quick to yank that off, too, giving him a better look. “Shit, look at that pussy. I’m going to toy with you until you fucking break.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You blurted, hips quickening on his lap. “Yeah, break me- make me, make me good, yeah?” 

“Make you a good little bitch, huh?” Seungmin replied. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at the wet patch forming on top of him. “You are a filthy little thing, aren’t you? Look at you getting off on being treated like this.”

Your eyes went down to his lap, widening at the way the fabric was wet with your juices. It only made you grind harder, hands moving up to grip his shoulders tightly. He allowed this, clearly, his own body moving upright for his hands to grab your hips. 

“Oh, that look in your eyes. So out of it, fucked dumb and you haven’t even gotten my cock inside you,” Seungmin was laughing. He was laughing at you, degrading you, humiliating you - and it only made your pussy flush wetter. One hand came up to stroke hair out of your face, and it landed on your cheek, cupping it almost softly compared to the way he was speaking. “Are you gonna cum?”

You moaned loudly. You were going to cum, the feeling of impending bliss crawling up your spine and pushing you closer to the edge. “Yeah, yeah, I-“

“Aw, you’re gonna cum?” He cooed, a false sound of sympathy. His hand immediately went to your hair, yanking your head back once again and making you squeal. “Too bad. I decide when you cum and how you cum. You’re not cumming yet. Okay?”

It was a rhetorical question. It had to be, because you couldn’t form words at this point. Instead, your hips slowed down, staring into Seungmin’s round eyes. He screwed up his face in disappointment, using his free hand to move your hips again. 

“Don’t you fucking slow down. You keep going.”

Oh God, you were going to die. You whined obediently anyway, picking up your pace again. The feeling of being close returned almost immediately, accelerated by his hand in your hair and his filthy words. 

“Beg. Beg for me to allow you to fucking cum.” 

“Please, please Seungmin- I can’t hold it, I can’t-“

“You can, and you fucking will,” Seungmin retorted instantly. That cocky smirk was on his lips again. “Not good enough. Beg.”

“Please! Please, please, I’ll be so good for you, I promise. I’ll be- I’ll be your good little slut, yeah? Yeah? Can I cum? Please?” You were babbling again, eyes fluttering shut and your thighs clenching around his hips. It was taking every nerve in your body to try not to cum before he told you that you were allowed. You had to be good. 

“Mm. Okay. Cum for me, c’mon,” You instantly arched your back, fingers digging in even tighter on those nice, broad shoulders. You moaned loudly as you came, eyes watering with tears at the intensity of it. He’d be lucky if he didn’t have to throw those pyjama trousers out, to be honest. You could feel your pussy flooding the cotton.

Once you came down from your high, Seungmin’s hand relaxed in your hair. You were sufficiently sated, but you had to see it through. Shifting around on his lap, you noticed something out of the ordinary.

You just had one of the strongest orgasms of your life and he wasn’t even hard.

“Um, Seungmin. You’re… not hard?”

Seungmin laughed again, a condescending chime to your ears. “Why the fuck would I get hard over a slut like you in my lap?” 

Oh. It was very hard to ignore the incessant throbbing in your pussy returning from that one comment. Your eyes widened, giving you away, and Seungmin licked his lips. 

Not hard, though? Maybe you had to be a little bratty to get your way. “What if I showed you my pussy, Seungmin? You wanna see? ‘S wet for you.”

“For me?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure just being present in this house gets that slutty cunt wet. Lay on your back.”

Damn. He always had to one up you, always putting you in your place. You loved every second of it. You moved off of his lap, laying on your back and staring at him expectantly. He stood up, shucking his t-shirt off and folding it up as if he had all the time in the world - because of course he did. His body was exposed to you again, and you took your time ogling him. Slender figure, but lightly toned. Very nice. He pulled off his pyjama trousers, again folding those too, and when he turned to face the bed, you saw it.

Big. Long. It was similar to Hyunjin’s. Nice and long, but not an abundance of girth, not like Changbin’s. It wasn’t fully hard yet, but what it was looking like was very promising.

“Stop eyeing up my cock,” Your eyes immediately darted up, finding a teasing, amused expression on Seungmin’s face. He was quick to make his way onto the bed, and you gazed up at him needily. Before you could even speak, his hands had flipped you over so you were on your stomach. “All fours.”

Obediently, you shifted to rest on your hands and knees. It was hard, arching like that and feeling your wet pussy leak down your thigh in need. 

“Beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you,” Seungmin’s fingers swiped through your folds again, and a wet noise filling the room displayed that he was jerking his cock to full mast using your pussy as lubrication. You moaned, turning your head to watch. His hand quickly shoved your head back in the pillows. “I said fucking beg.”

“Oh God, please, Seungmin,” You whined, muffled by the pillows. “Please. I need it, I need to fuck you. I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

“Hmm, you have been good. But have you earned it? Do you think you’ve earned it?” More rustling of fabric was heard and then Seungmin’s cockhead was pressing at your core. You gasped, trying to push your hips back onto him. His hand came down on your ass in a loud smacking noise. You could feel the skin turning red with the pressure. 

You almost fell over with the impact, clutching onto the sheets desperately. “Please! Please. I promise I’ll be good, I promise-“

“Listen to you, begging like the pathetic little bitch you are. That pussy’s so wet for me,” Seungmin swiped the tip of his length through your folds. The sensation made you whine, but you fought to not push back. With a small hum of approval, he was pushing in all at once - bottoming out instantly. He gave you no time to adjust, thrusting into you at a fast, precise pace. Of course he’d know how to fuck. It just made perfect sense. 

“Oh-! Oh, ‘s deep,” You writhed, feeling his cock hit your g-spot. More. More. Fucking more. “It’s so deep, Seungmin, I-“

“God, shut the fuck up. Listen to your pussy, the sounds it’s making for me. Listen to how much your pussy wants my cock,” Seungmin yanked your head up again, a large hand covering your mouth. His other hand rested on your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. True to his word, when he covered your mouth, you could hear the wet slapping sounds of your tight hole hitting his balls. “Minho was right. That pussy does feel nice and tight on my cock.”

You squealed at the mention of your lover, toes curling into the sheets. It was muffled by Seungmin’s hand, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth upon hearing the noise. Sucking on them dutifully, you let out another quieted noise when his other hand smacked onto your ass roughly. His thrusts didn’t slow down, cock bullying into your hole and pushing you steadily into your climax.

“Should I send a video to Minho? Should I show him how much of a good slut you can be when you’ve been broken in?” He halted his pace, grinding softly against you. You could feel the brush of hair against your asscheeks and you whined, pushing your hips back. 

You shook your head rapidly, garbled words coming out. “N-No! No, Seungmin, just- harder, please, hnngg, need it harder-“

“Harder? You’re not in the position to make commands. So fucking dumb,” Seungmin yanked his fingers out of your mouth and pushed down on your back roughly. When you flailed, trying to catch yourself, he grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. The slow pace continued, just grinding against you rather than fucking you senseless like you wanted. “Maybe I still have to break you in. Do you need to be shown how to fucking behave?” 

“I’m good, ‘m good, promise- I promise, Seungie, ‘m good,” You mumbled out, eyes hazy from where they’d been pressed against the pillow. Seungmin laughed at your use of his nickname before he completely pulled his cock out of your pussy. You whined, hating the loss of fullness, but then his hand was dropping from your ass and filling you up with two long digits.

“I’m going to make you cum like this,” He murmured, eyes focused on where your hole was leaking out around his fingers. His fingertips expertly crooked down to meet your g-spot, frantic rubbing bringing your high right to the precipice, as if he’d never stopped fucking you. Your legs were shaking, trying so hard not to squirm. Seungmin dropped your wrists, smiling when he saw you kept them where he’d put them. His hand smacked another large handprint into the flesh of your ass. “Feeling good, slut?”

“Aah… ‘s good..” 

“Fucking hell, maybe I have broken you,” A scoff was heard ringing around the room, making you feel so used, humiliated and plain fucking horny. Seungmin used two fingers on his free hand to rub precise circles around your clit, using the wetness of your pussy to make the slide slick on your swollen bud. You were done for. Your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers when you came, whines and broken noises flooding out of your mouth.

With a swift move, Seungmin was shoving long slick covered fingers around your throat and his cock back into your pussy. It made you gasp, eyes fluttering shut and your hips softly rocking as he picked up his fast pace again.

“‘S too much, Seungie,” you whined, shaking your head. Seungmin yanked your head back to face him where his chest was pressed against your back, raising an eyebrow at your expression. “I can’t-“

“You can’t? You know your safeword. If it’s too much, you say it,” Seungmin reminded you. Of course you knew your safeword. Red. You hadn’t forgotten it. You just would probably die if he stopped. When you didn’t reply, simply letting out another audible moan, Seungmin smirked and let your head drop again. “Fucking bitch. You want it to be too much, don’t you?”

You squealed when he grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling you back against every thrust. Your hands stayed obediently behind your back, gasps and loud moans flooding past your open mouth. Your jaw was perpetually dropped as he fucked your slick back into you, your toes curling in ecstasy. 

All too quick, Seungmin’s pace faltered, and his head dropped to in between your shoulders. His hair tickled your skin as he sighed deeply, uneven thrusts continuing inside of you. “I’m gonna cum. Pussy’s too fucking wet. Fuck, you’re such a good little slut for me, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah! Good- ah- slut for you, Seungmin. Cum inside me, please? N-Need it!”

“Need it inside you? Or do you want to taste it, whore? Wanna taste my cum?”

“Fuck, yeah, taste-“

Seungmin was pulling out with a swift movement, yanking your hair so you were sitting upright facing him. You stuck your tongue out obediently before you allowed your eyes to open, gazing up at him. 

God, he was a pretty fucking picture. Lightly tanned skin covered in a dew of sweat just like your own, large hand pumping a just as large cock right in front of your face. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Seungmin groaned, his head falling back as cum started to paint your tongue white. You moaned, curling your tongue around the cockhead to catch all of the substance.

“You are fucking gorgeous,” Seungmin huffed, deep groans still racking his chest as he came all over your tongue. You wanted to smile, but you suckled on his cockhead approvingly instead. 

Immediately, once Seungmin had finished painting your tongue with his cum, he was pulling out of your mouth and pushing you softly to lay down. You let out a confused noise, but he was already up and grabbing some baby wipes and a bottle of water from his drawer. You laid there, mind still hazy while Seungmin wiped you down with baby wipes. 

“Does anything hurt?” He questioned, rubbing soft fingertips over your thighs. It should’ve felt awkward, just lying there naked, but your mind was too fuzzy to care. 

“No, ‘m okay, just a little sensitive,” You mumbled, enjoying the feeling of soft sheets against your burning skin. Seungmin nodded, tossing the baby wipes on the floor carelessly before sidling up next to you. He slung one arm around your tummy, pulling you over so that you were laying on his chest. 

“Are you okay?” You nodded. Seungmin hummed, running his fingers through your hair. “You did really good for me, y’know that? Took it so well.”

You made a small noise of affirmation before Seungmin was grabbing the forgotten bottle of water, pressing the rim to your lips. Obediently, you glugged back half of the bottle in one go before falling back onto his chest. 

After blinking the haze out of your eyes a few times, you finally felt human again. “Seungmin, you fuck like an animal.”

Seungmin burst out laughing, drinking some of the water himself between giggles. “I did warn you!”

You laughed yourself, slapping his arm softly. Seungmin was still giggling, soft vibrations of his chest making your head shake on top of him. 

“Was it worth it?”

You blinked. “Stupid question. So fucking worth it. 10/10, would do it again.”

“You still have one to go, y’know. You can’t be coming back to me for more, Chan will get jealous and wonder when it’s his turn.”

One? You perked up your head, looking into Seungmin’s puppy eyes. “I’ve got two to go, not one. Chan and Jeongin.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “You can’t fuck Jeongin.”

You scoffed. “Why not?”

“He’s a virgin, Y/N.”

Oh, now that was interesting.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @phtogravi @secretjj @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @skzswife @starsandrqindrops @poody1608 @cutiespaghetti @hwa-0403 @i8rsie @kpopsstuffs @everyonehatesshani @han8ul @velentine143 @vixensss @cuddlehye @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @angeldhd @comicnerd557 @leeknowfz @imwithurmother @hrtsformin @maknae00 @teaholic @ficrecnctskz @tasteskz-sworld @ilychee08 @thehomotron8000 @romynochill @freckleboilix @yunhorights @marrivmel @realrintaro @leoisanot8-wh0re @jazzyluuv @telesvng @jihanlovic

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

out of my league | pedri gonzalez [part vi]

🎓 synopsis: Finally, the two of you meet each other’s friends, and, despite your initial worries, everything goes surprisingly smoothly. Well, for the most part. Old insecurities and unresolved tension turn the night into something you weren't expecting, leaving you questioning where you stand. tags: nerd and jock trope, angst, emotional conflict, overthinking. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 2.8k words)

you can read the first part here, or go to the masterlist.

The gallery is packed – too warm, too noisy, with too many people wearing glasses that make them look smarter than they probably are. Ana’s always saying that everyone at these events has imposter syndrome anyway, so maybe they deserve to overcompensate.

And Ana deserves this moment, standing there in a burgundy blazer, soaking up compliments like she doesn’t already know she’s brilliant. Because of course she is. Chemistry major with grades you can’t even dream of, and now she’s exhibiting these paintings – ones that somehow make molecular structures look sexy, like they’re the veins running through some glowing, unrecognizable goddess.

“See what I mean?” you nudge Pedri. “She aces our quantum mechanics final and then pulls this off. Unbelievable!”

Pedri’s hand hovers awkwardly near his pocket, like he’s not sure if it’s better to stand there looking cool or hold the tiny, crumpled program they handed out at the door. “It’s... different,” he says finally. He’s been using that word a lot tonight, and you’re trying not to laugh.

“Okay, but do you like it?”

“I didn’t say I don’t,” he says quickly, and the tips of his ears are going pink. “It’s just... I don’t know what I’m looking at half the time.”

Ana appears out of nowhere. She’s buzzing, still riding the high from someone’s compliment, and she wastes no time eyeing Pedri up and down. Subtlety has never been her strong suit. Ana’s just curious, though, like always – probably more curious about you than him. She’s been rooting for this to work, even if she denies it.

“Finally!” she says, like this is some long-overdue event.

Pedri shifts, looking at you, unsure if this is good or bad. But you can tell Ana’s just excited, and obviously, she’s not the only one. Your friends have been waiting for this. Not just to judge him in person (though they definitely will), but because they think this is good for you. And maybe it is.

“So... what do you think?” Ana asks Pedri, tilting her head like she’s inspecting one of her paintings. She’s sharp enough to tell he’s out of his element, and you can tell she’s enjoying it.

Pedri blinks, caught off guard. “It’s, uh, really cool. Your work is incredible.”

Ana grins, satisfied. “Good answer.” She waves vaguely toward a corner. “Your real test is over there.”

You follow her gesture to where the rest of your friend group is very clearly gathered around the drinks table. Alexia and Diego are mid-argument; Arthur’s leaning against the wall, cider in hand, looking way too comfortable.

Ana shakes her head. “You’re late. And those weirdos have been chugging the free cider since six.”

When you get close to your friends, the first thing you see is Alexia lighting up like a Christmas tree. She spins toward Diego and tries – tries – to whisper, “Oh my God, it’s him!” but fails spectacularly because everyone around her hears it.

You hear Pedri chuckling softly beside you, and it makes you smile even though you want to pretend you don’t know these people right now.

“Hi,” you say, giving a small wave.

“Hi,” they all say in unison, dragging the i out like kids in a school play, as they shamelessly eye Pedri from head to toe.

Then Arthur, who recently admitted to going to all of Pedri’s games like some sort of fanboy, decides to get bold. “Hey, man,” he says, nodding his head, trying to be cool. It’s so not him that Alexia and Diego immediately lose it. You can’t help it, you laugh too. But Pedri doesn’t get the inside joke, so he just nods back politely. “Hey,” he says, then turns to the rest of the group. “Nice meeting you guys.”

Alexia snorts, crossing her arms. “Wait till the night is over to say that. I heard there’s gonna be a poetry recital any minute now.”

The collective groan is instant. Even Pedri joins in, and when he does, the groan turns into laughter.

“You guys want a drink?” Diego asks, already holding a cider and not waiting for anyone to say yes.

Pedri shakes his head. “No, thanks, I’m driving.” He smiles, but you can tell he’s nervous, trying to be polite while figuring out how to impress your friends without overdoing it.

“Oooh, a responsible man. Noted.” Alexia nods at him like she’s taking mental notes, and you roll your eyes, but her exaggerated approval makes you laugh.

“That’s good,” she says, looking at the others like they’re part of some secret jury. The rest of the group starts nodding, one after the other, as if the Roman conclave has decided on their pope.

Pedri scratches the back of his neck, catching on too late that he’s being evaluated. He looks embarrassed but keeps smiling.

Then Ana comes back, looking like she sprinted across the entire gallery to get here. “Guys, pretend you’re talking to me!” she says, barely catching her breath.

Diego leans back, amused. “Talking about what?”

“Did something happen?” you ask, your worry kicking in automatically.

“Carlos just showed up,” she says, fixing her hair in a mirror-smooth gesture. “I need to look busy.”

“Bird guy Carlos?” You ask her, surprised.

“Yes, bird guy Carlos!” she snaps, like this is somehow obvious, and you’re still not sure if she’s excited or annoyed about his presence. “What about you?” she suddenly asks Pedri, “You don’t come to this kind of thing often, do you?”

“Umm, no. Sorry.” Pedri’s voice drops a little, and he shifts on his feet.

“Don’t apologize,” Ana says, brushing it off. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re good enough for my friend. She’s very cultured, you know?”

“I know!” Pedri’s eyes light up at that, and for the first time tonight, he doesn’t look nervous. That, he can talk about. If the subject is you, he could probably go on for hours. “She’s teaching me a lot,” he adds, the words so straightforward they make your stomach flip in that ridiculous, hopelessly romantic way you’re still not used to.

The group erupts in a chorus of “aww,” perfectly synchronized. Anas’s the first to recover, crossing her arms like she’s trying to look unimpressed but failing miserably. “Okay, fine,” she says, drawing out the words like it’s physically painful to admit. “You two are cute. You have my blessing, Pedri.” She pats him on the back with a dramatic flourish. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to return to my adoring fans.” She sweeps off like she’s royalty.

Pedri grins, checking the rest of the table. “That’s one out of four,” he says, playing along.

Arthur snickers, shaking his head. “Make that two out of four,” he says quickly, clearly more concerned about Pedri liking him than the other way around. “Don’t worry, man. You’re cool.”

“Let’s be real,” Alexia says, smirking. “It’s four out of four. You’ve got all of our blessings.” She leans back, giving the two of you a once-over, her teasing tone softening. “Honestly, you two really do look cute together. I can’t even make fun of it.”

Her eyes lingers on the way you’re leaning into Pedri, his hand resting on your waist like it’s second nature. You feel the warmth creep up your neck, but instead of pulling away, you let yourself stay right there.

One the way home, the car hums quietly as Pedri drives, his hands steady on the wheel. He’s been quiet for most of the drive, but not in a bad way. It’s like he’s still soaking it all in. He stops in a red light, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. “I’m happy you invited me.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Yeah? Even with the poetry recital?”

He laughs at that, the sound warm and genuine. “Even with that. Your friends are nice. I mean, a little intense, but in a good way.”

You smirk. “They’re a lot. But they mean well.”

He nods, his expression softening. “I know. And... I feel like I know you better now.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you don’t know what to say. Your chest tightens, in an overwhelming, can’t-quite-handle-this kind of way. “Well, for what it’s worth,” you say softly, “you did great. They like you.”

He smiles at that, a little sheepish. “Even Alexia?”

“Especially Alexia,” you tease. “Which is saying something. She doesn’t like anyone right away.”

Pedri’s laugh is quieter this time, and he looks over at you again, his eyes warm. You reach out, your hand finding his on the center console. His fingers curl around yours instinctively, like they were always meant to fit there. “I’m glad you came,” you say, and you mean it.

part 2

The second you step inside the house, it feels like the walls are closing in. Music thuds through the floorboards, and clusters of people fill every corner, laughing and talking like they’ve known each other forever. You tug at your sleeves, already second-guessing your outfit and your decision to come.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you whisper to Pedri, sticking close enough that your shoulder brushes his.

“You’re perfect,” he says without missing a beat, his hand finding yours for a quick squeeze. “And you’re with me, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

His confidence is reassuring, but the knot in your stomach tightens anyway. This kind of scene isn’t exactly your thing. Too many people, too many opportunities to say or do the wrong thing. Pedri leads you through the crowd making it look like it's easy, stopping every few steps to nod or wave at someone who greets him. You stick close to him as you take it all in.

He leans down, his voice low in your ear to cut through the noise. “They’re probably in the kitchen. That’s where the drinks are.”

Of course, that’s where they are. Classic frat party logic.

You follow him through the crowd, past someone who’s trying to shotgun a beer in the middle of the hallway, a cluster of people is gathered around the counter, laughing and talking over each other, and you can tell by the way Pedri’s shoulders relax that he’s found his group.

“Guys,” he says, raising his voice just enough to be heard. “This is –”

“Oh my God, finally!” Ferran interrupts, he’s smiling from ear to ear, already stepping forward to clasp Pedri’s shoulder. “The mystery girl appears.”

You freeze, caught off guard by the spotlight suddenly on you.

“Uh, hi,” you manage, giving a small wave.

“Hi,” Ferran says, mimicking your tone but with a teasing grin. Then his eyes flick to Pedri. “What happened to ‘she’s shy, don’t scare her’? You literally brought her here.”

“I didn’t think you’d start yelling the second we walked in,” Pedri mutters, already looking mortified.

“Yelling? That’s just Ferran’s resting volume,” a girl’s voice cuts in, light and teasing. You look over to see someone leaning casually against the counter, a drink in hand, looking at you curiously. “So…who’s this?”

Pedri stiffens beside you, his hand brushing against yours as if searching for backup. He clears his throat, his voice coming out a little too fast, “That’s my girlfriend.”

Your head snaps toward him. Did he just –? He looks just as stunned as you feel, his wide eyes darting around the room like a deer in headlights. The word hangs in the air, and you can’t decide if you want to smile or shrink into the floor.

Ferran’s laughter breaks the tension. “Is he always like that when he’s with you?” he teases, clearly enjoying how red Pedri’s face has gotten.

“I don’t know,” you say slowly, finding your voice. “How is he like when he’s with you guys?”

Ferran claps you on the back, his grin widening. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

After a while, you start to relax – just a little. Ferran and Pablo are surprisingly easy to talk to, their energy contagious in a way that takes the edge off your nerves. You even catch yourself laughing out loud, more than once.

Pedri leans into you on the couch, his arm draped casually across the backrest. He’s been close to you all night, his hand finding yours every so often.

“See?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “Told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth lifts in a half-smile. “Don’t jinx it.”

It’s right then, as if summoned by your own words, that she arrives. You first notice his expression change. The warmth in his face vanishes, replaced by shock, then worry.

“I didn’t know she would be here,” Pedri whispers, leaning toward you. His voice is low, apologetic, and it makes you uneasy.

Funny thing is, you’re not nervous about her at first. Not really. She’s just another person in the room. But Pedri looks worried, and that’s what starts to twist your stomach into knots.

“Hi,” Melanie says, her voice pitched in that overly sweet way that makes your skin crawl. She steps closer, tilting her head like she’s sizing you up. “It’s... you two.”

Her eyes flick between you and Pedri, her lips curling into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “That’s so funny,” she adds, her tone dripping with irony.

“Melanie,” Pedri says, his voice tight. He shifts slightly, his body unconsciously leaning closer to yours, as if to shield you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Melanie raises her eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Really?” she says, her voice lilting with mock innocence. “What, I’m not allowed to show up anymore?” She scoffs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just because you’ve got a new side fling?”

The words land softly, spoken like they’re meant to be casual, but you can see the cracks in her facade. Her expression flickers, just for a moment, showing the hurt beneath the surface.

Ferran clears his throat, stepping in like a referee sensing a fight. “Mel, maybe you should –”

“I’m just talking,” she cuts him off with a dismissive wave, her tone light but her eyes sharp and locked onto you.

The chatter and music in the background feel distant, like you’re underwater. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and you can’t tell if it’s Melanie’s presence or your own spiraling thoughts. Maybe it’s both. You sit there, frozen, caught in the invisible crossfire. Pedri’s hand brushes yours again, but this time it doesn’t ground you. If anything, it only amplifies the ringing in your ears.

“Mel, don’t do this,” Pedri says, “We’re at a party. Just let it go.”

“Let it go?” Melanie repeats, her laugh sharp and bitter. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Just pretend like nothing happened. Like you didn’t string me along for years, and now suddenly, I’m not even allowed to come to our friends' parties anymore.” She spits the words out.

Your stomach twists. You don’t want to listen, but you can’t help it. Everything about this feels like a highlighter over everything you already felt insecure about – the history they share, the comfort she has with his friends, the way she looks, so effortlessly beautiful even as she lashes out.

“That’s not fair,” Pedri says, his voice still calm. “You know it wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, really?” Melanie’s voice rises, her hands gesturing wildly. “What part of it wasn’t like that, Pedri? The lying? The mixed signals? The part where I wasn’t enough for you?” Her voice cracks, and for a second, the anger slips away.

“I never lied to you,” Pedri says quietly, his expression pained. “And you know that. I tried, Melanie. I really did. But we weren’t –”

“Don’t,” she snaps, cutting him off. Her eyes shift to you again, and this time it feels like it's burning your skin. “And you.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “Do you even know what you’re getting into?”

That does it. It’s like the room starts tilting, and you’re the only one sliding out of place. You stand abruptly, the motion jerky and awkward, but you can’t stay. Not here, not like this.

“Wait –” Pedri reaches for you, but you step back, shaking your head.

“I need some air,” you mumble, your voice barely audible even to yourself.

Before anyone can stop you, you’re weaving through the crowd, your vision blurring as you push past unfamiliar faces and out into the cool night.

The fresh air doesn’t help. Your chest is still tight, your breaths shallow. You keep walking, not even sure where you’re going, just needing to get away. Away from Melanie’s words, Pedri’s history, the overwhelming feeling that you don’t belong.

By the time you stop, your hands are trembling, and tears blur your vision. You lean against a wall, trying to steady yourself, but the thoughts keep spiraling.

You think about Melanie, the way she looked at you, the way she spoke to Pedri. You think about how small you felt sitting there, like an intruder in their story. And for the first time in weeks, you feel like that old version of yourself again – the one who thought you’d never be enough.

And the worst part? You’re not sure you can go back in there and face him.

➜ Next Part

[beautifulfuckup99]

A Rm smut where he cum inside her and they have to rush to get plan B

As a fellow Namjoon stan, I've got you!

Title: Soon.

Warning(s): Unprotected S!x (Duh. Also, be safe ya'll!), Fluff!

Author's Note: Hope you like it!

*************************************

"And just like that..." Namjoon laughs tiredly as you groan loudly, throwing your head back to show your pure delight at finally being able to settle down.

"That... That was a lot." You laugh as Namjoon loosens his tie.

"Hey, this was all your idea." He jokes playfully as you brush him off, tossing yourself back on the bed, shivering softly since the black gown you were in was backless and these satin hotel sheets were nice and cold.

It had sort of been your idea, honestly. Last minute, Namjoon had been invited to speak at a college in South Korea early this morning, and you had been called back into work to accept some award on behalf of the company that you had just made partners at.

Not wanting to miss these big events for each other, you found yourself on a plane to South Korea at five in the morning, and then on the first flight to New York right after the event was done. And even after your big day was accomplished, you knew you still had plans for the evening...

The Mori Art Museum in Tokyo, Japan had a new exhibit, and you knew Namjoon had been dying to visit it on opening night. Now here you were. From South Korea to New York to Japan... And you were more than traveled out.

"I've done so many costume changes today, I should work on Broadway." You mutter as Namjoon takes off his blazer with a tired chuckle.

You pick your feet up to set flat on the bed, your dress slowly sliding down, exposing your thighs to the five-foot eleven Korean man who was now bluntly staring. You don't notice as you take your hair down from its bun, but when he stands by the edge of the bed and grabs your ankle, it dawns on you that he's quiet...

Too quiet...

He slowly undoes your heel straps on your one foot, and you cork your head playfully as you look up at him. "What are you doing, Mr. Kim?" You ask softly as your heel hits the floor, his big hands massaging your sore foot and you press your lips together, feeling settled instantly.

"Just... Being a good boyfriend." He says innocently. You giggle, hands resting on your stomach. He releases your other foot from its treacherous heel, and now with both feet officially free, you place one on Namjoon's chest. He grabs it and you watch his hand roam towards your calf and then your inner thigh.

"Getting dangerously close there..." You warn jokingly as he hums, stroking the knuckle of his middle finger over your pantie covered pussy.

"Fuck..." You giggle softly and your breathing hitches as you watch Namjoon smirk at you.

"You... Were so sexy today. My future CEO." He taunts softly and you shy away at the compliment before shaking your head at him.

"Mm... It was nothing. Just some award. What about you? Speaking at colleges? Shaping young kids' minds..." You whisper as he leans over you and starts pulling your underwear to the side.

"Mm. This... This is the only gift I'll ever need for putting up with life's bullshit." He says softly as he looks into your eyes.

You raise a playful eyebrow. "My pussy?" You snicker softly.

"Exactly." He whispers with a nod before stroking your slot with his long fingers.

"Oh fuck..." You pant softly and start to roll your hips to follow his fingers, hands gripping his collar of his button down. This is why you loved this man. Cause he said poetic shit like that. And in your six months of dating, you found yourself never tiring of his verbal foreplay.

"You're so..." You're cut off by a moan when he slides two fingers into you at once.

"I'm what?" He whispers tauntingly against your lips. You melt into a kiss and your hands blindly move to undo his button-down shirt, yanking his tie loose.

"Belt." You mutter against his lips. There was no need for foreplay at this point. You'd been ready all fucking day. This man has been teasing you by just being his usual intelligent self.

"Fuck. I love you..." Namjoon groans as your hands make quick work on his belt. He looks down as your hands reach into his now undone pants and stroke his semi hard bulge through his boxers.

"Fuck, yeah, Y/N..." Namjoon breathes out as he watches. "Take me out, baby." He whispers and you smirk as you do just that so he can watch your hand jerk him off. "Shit, you've got me so fucking hard..." He whispers with his cock free...

You sit up slowly with him following your lead, standing up. You lick all of his chest and stomach as he groans. His hand moves into your hair to hold it back. "So pretty..." He whispers as you smirk up at him before you get to work, stroking and kissing the cock that you love so much.

You start to wet the tip before taking more into your mouth, making him moan softly. "Y/N..." He pants as you look up at him, bobbing your head up and down slowly, working your fist on the base.

"Oh, baby... Fuck..." He groans before pulling you back. "Now." Is all he says as he lays you back on the bed, making you giggle, wiping the saliva from your lips, smearing your lipstick along with it. It makes him groan happily.

He kisses your neck and bites on your pulse point as your hands practically tare his shirt off down his arms. He pulls back to take off his shirt and undershirt. Your hands roam his tone chest.

"So sexy..." You moan and he smiles bashfully before kissing you deeply as he slowly slides his tip in, making you shiver.

"M-More..." You whine against his lips and he nods fast, not thinking. Neither of you were at this point. Your hands roam his back, his muscles contracting against your wondering palms. He slides fully into you and your head rolls back, feeling full.

"Oh god!" You moan as he starts to find the right pattern. Namjoon was a real fast learner when it came to that...

"F-Fast... Faster." You groan as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. He grunts and does just that, hands gripping your thighs to hold them apart so he can get deeper.

"Ah! Joonie!" You moan loudly as your head digs back into the pillow as he groans happily.

"I love how you say my name..." He groans and leans down to kiss you again, hands wildly roaming each others' bodies.

"Don't... Don't stop." You grunt against his ear as he leans down to nuzzle in the cork of your neck. Your eyes are closed, lost in his strokes, in his touch, in the noises he makes. You bite his ear lobe, and he growls lowly.

"Fuck, baby. Such a good pussy..." He whispers in your ear, and you chuckle happily before grabbing his chin to kiss him again. You'd never get tired of it...

His fingers work your clit as you start to tremble. "K-Keep... Fuck! Keep going..." You cry out and Namjoon hums softly against your lips.

"Cum on my cock, baby..." He whispers, always one to talk you through these intense emotions. You scratch down his back, wanting to mark him. "There you go. Just like that." He whispers as he watches your eyes roll shut while your body tenses. He knew your body so well. Knew exactly when it would hit you.

"Don't stop!" You call out in desperation to feel this again, making him groan in pleasure. He goes faster and works your sensitive clit, fucking you through your first orgasm, which just throws you into another one.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, I... I'm gonna cum." Namjoon groans as you grind down on his cock, wanting to ride out your second orgasm. "Oh, baby. Y/N!" Namjoon moans as he cums deep inside of you, making you gasp.

"Oh! Fuck!" You whine at the warm seed seeping into you. "Shit, baby..." You shiver at how hot it felt to be filled. He rests his head on your chest and you both start to catch your breaths when it hits you.

"Joonie!" You almost shout and shove him off of you.

"What? What's the problem?!" He asks, startled as you mentally run through your morning routine today.

"Fuck! Get it out of me!" You scream as you run to the bathroom, feeling his cum dripping out of you.

********************************************

"Let me check the back. We... Might not have anything." The store owner says at the local drug store before he leaves you and Namjoon alone, both of you in sweatshirts with your hoodies up and glasses on. You hit Namjoon for the 100th time since everything went down.

"Ow! How many times do I have to say; this isn't my fault." He tries and you give him a look. "Okay, not ALL my fault. You were the one telling me not to stop. How was I supposed to know you didn't take your birth control today?" He whispers as you rub your face before swatting at his arm again.

You two had been on the hunt for a plan B pill for about an hour now. Some places didn't have it, and some were closed. Either way, it was 2am in Japan, and you two were at some random drug store, hoping this guy had what you needed.

"This is so embarrassing." You whisper as Namjoon pauses.

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"It's clear to him that we're dumbasses who weren't safe." You mutter and Namjoon sighs softly, pulling you into his arms. "What if they don't have any here? Then what? Are we parents then?" You whisper, mind spiraling.

"Hey. We... We can cross the bridge if it gets there. But for now-" You cut Namjoon off.

"Do you want kids?" You ask and his shoulders slouch softly as he hums.

"Yeah. I do." He says and you watch him.

"I do too. But like this? We're both still... Doing shit." You say quietly. "Is that... Selfish?" You mutter.

"What's selfish is bringing a human into this world without being ready for them." He points out and you grip his waist, snuggling into his chest.

"And we're not dumbasses who weren't safe." He adds. "We're love birds who got carried away." He corrects as his hands rub up and down your back caringly. You shut your eyes.

"We still have more random shit to do in life. Like... flying from South Korea to New York to Japan." He teases and it makes you grumble softly which causes him to laugh.

"Thank you for coming with. I know the risk with ARMY possibly finding out-" He cuts you off.

"I was not gonna let the woman I love walk around alone on the streets of Japan at night looking for a Plan B pill." He says simply and you hum, pecking his lips.

"Sir? Ma'am? I've found one..." The man says, setting down a box. Namjoon hums and walks over to pay for that and some juice for you to drink with.

You guys exit the store and Namjoon hands you the pill and the juice for you to down it with. You take a moment to just look at the pill.

"You okay?" He asks softly. "Second thoughts?" He raises an eyebrow, and you look at him and then shake your head, affirmative on this standpoint...

"Okay. Hey. When the time is right... We'll know." He says gently as he looks at you. "I'm on your time. I'm ready when you are." He smiles softly at you, his dimple on full display and it settles you more than he'll ever know. It felt good having him on your side.

"Soon." You whisper before popping the pill in your mouth and downing some of the juice. Namjoon grabs your hand softly and leads you back to the hotel, quietly pointing out the stars as you just snuggled into him peacefully...

[slothquisitor]

Invisible String: Chapter Fifteen

A Baldur’s Gate III Modern AU.

Chapter Summary: The night of the exhibit opening.

Read from the beginning.

Read on AO3.

____________________________________________________________

“It is sometimes easy to forget when we experience reading a book or watching a film the work that’s gone into making it. The hours of revision and editing that have produced the text we’re enjoying. This exhibit is a celebration of the process of writing, the revision and the changes, and a reminder to us all that writing is not only about a finished product but also the journey,” Florrick says, smiling at the podium. “We want to recognize our curator, Liv Vires for putting together this exhibit on an accelerated timeline, and all of the other university faculty and staff who helped in any way. Special thanks to the Archives Office for the use of items from their collections and to the Literature Department for their contributions.”

Liv stands to the side of the podium and tries not to fidget in her new dress. She’s doing her best to drink in this moment, reminding herself of the hard work that brought her here. The crowd gathered for the opening is much larger than she expected it would be, but it includes her friends from the archives and several of the professors and specialists who had been kind enough to lend their expertise. The whole event feels like an eclectic mix of a cocktail party and a university lecture. The crowd applauds politely within the foyer area of the new library building that’s been transformed into a reception area, all high tables in white tablecloths and hors d’oeuvres. The foyer is bright and open despite the evening hour, and Liv loves the view here of the area she calls the ‘book bridge’ which is a hallway suspended over the cafe area of the ground floor. The floor-to-ceiling windows give a view of the old books even from here. 

“On behalf of Baldur’s Gate University Library, please enjoy the exhibit,” Florrick finishes with a smile. And then the crowd begins to slowly make their way into the exhibition area. 

The exhibition space isn’t really anything more than a fancy stone hallway with display cases, and Liv has spent a lot of time there over the last month, so she opts to stay in the less crowded reception area. Plus there’s champagne. And friends. 

As the crowd disperses from around the podium she catches sight of Petras. He’s dressed rather more muted than his usual, wearing a plain brown blazer, and hilariously, a pair of fake glasses. He steps up to her and opens his arms. “Liv, this is amazing!”

She easily steps into the hug. “Thank you.”

He looks around the space in awe. “I don’t think I could tell you the last time I was in a library.”

Part of her soul withers a little bit at that. “Well, better late than never I think.”

He adjusts his glasses. “Am I blending in, alright?”

She can’t help but laugh. “Do you need to be blending in?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know; I wanted to look smart.”

“The fake glasses are definitely selling it,” she says, trying to sound like she means it. 

“You look really nice,” he says and then gets very serious. “Look, I…uh…I heard what happened. With you and Astarion, I mean.”

It’s been a rather herculean effort, but she’s managed to spend the last twenty-four hours actively not thinking about Astarion. She’s been telling herself that the moment this evening is over, she can finally sit and deal with it. But even today, some of the sting of his revelation has left. After a decent night’s rest and with a clearer head, she thinks she might just be a bit too sensitive and overwhelmed to view this situation objectively. Some part of her had hoped to see him in the crowd tonight…another part of her is afraid, worried that seeing him might break the careful composure she’s been cultivating. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, and I really hope you two work it out because I care about you both,” Petras says simply. 

She hadn’t considered what an uncomfortable position the situation might put Petras in. The fact that he’s here speaks volumes. “I really appreciate you coming.”

“Like I would miss your big night?” Petras replies, offering his arm. “Now, will you show me your exhibit?”

She links her arm in his. “Absolutely, I will.”

He leans in to whisper in her ear. “And maybe introduce me to Gale? Karlach talks about him a lot.”

She laughs. “Oh, now I see what the wardrobe one-eighty was really all about.”

“I stalked him on social media and it’s just like…pictures of his cat. I’ve never been more intrigued by a man.”

“Well, maybe opposites really do attract.” 

He shrugs. “If there’s time, but I’m here for you.”

She gives Petras the grand tour since all her other friends present helped work on the exhibition. She spends a little extra time telling him the drama of Mary and Percy Shelley since she knows he’ll enjoy it more than the scribbles and drawings on a draft of Onzymandias . And she does introduce him to Gale, who seems somewhat bemused but not displeased by Petras’s attention and questions. 

Gale eventually steps away to retrieve them all more champagne and Petras sighs. “I really hoped I wasn’t going to need to do this.”

“Do what?” she asks. 

“Tell you that Astarion is outside.”

She freezes. “He’s here?”

Petras nods. “We both got all dressed up to come and support you and he chickened out at the last minute. Sent me in alone, said he’d join later. But…”

So he had come. Or tried to anyway. “You’re sure he’s still out there?”

Petras nods. “Pretty damn. Is that…a good thing?”

Maybe? She’s not really sure how she feels about the whole thing, but the fact that after everything he’d come here…that means something. “I don’t know. I’ll be back.”

Petras smiles, looking hopeful. “I’ll be here.”

Outside could be anywhere, but Liv doesn’t grab her coat, instead heads out the double doors to the cobblestone street. The road curves and narrows on this side of the library building, so there’s not really anywhere to be. She looks around, but she only sees the odd bundled groups of students walking in the glow of the streetlights. Her breath puffs out in front of her like a ghost, and she folds her arms against the cold breeze. 

He’s not out here. 

She turns to go back inside, but then she notices a dark figure sitting on the steps in front of the Caldwell Building a ways down the street. It’s dark enough she shouldn’t be sure, but somehow she knows it’s Astarion. She starts making her way toward him, careful on the uneven stones in her heels. 

 “You know that the exhibit is inside the library, right?” she calls as she approaches. 

His head snaps up and he is immediately on his feet. “Liv!” He looks good, dressed in a dark navy suit that she’s surprised he’d risk ruining by sitting on the stone steps. “How did you…Petras.” His surprise immediately shifts to a scowl.

She pauses some distance away. “He said you chickened out. I didn’t realize that Lae’zel was that scary.”

He shakes his head at her. “Would that she was the scariest thing in there. I was going to come in, but then I worried that my being here might ruin your big moment. You know, after I’d already ruined everything else,” he says. It’s clear he’s trying for sarcasm, but it’s really working for him. “And then I was worried that with your sister here, I’d be unwelcome, and I don’t know. So I just stayed out here.”

“My sister couldn’t make it.”

He looks unsurprised. “Of course, not. Was her excuse at least a good one?”

“Her and her wife are both sick,” she explains. 

Astarion sighs. “After you went all the way to Neverwinter for her?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You say that, but…”

She shivers against the cold winter breeze. She’s not sure if she wants to do this now or out here, so she stalls. “Would you like to come see the exhibition?”

He seems to realize that she’s cold and that she’s changing the subject. He inclines his head, exuding a sort of fragile charm. “I would love nothing more.”

***

There is much Astarion wants to say. He wants to offer apologies and explanations and he wants to ask her if she can forgive him. He stays quiet and, instead, lets her lead him into the library. He remembers this area from their tour, remembers her telling him about the exhibition spaces and the book bridge that spans the ground floor. Memories from a happier, easier time. 

There are a lot of people in the reception area all talking and smiling and drinking. It’s a polite affair. There’s not even music. Most everyone seems to know each other and people are dressed in anything from ill-fitting tweed to chiffon. Liv has done neither, opting for something that walks the line between business and a cocktail dress. The deep blue color suits her, and the sleeves are structured, cutting a pretty silhouette. He’s never seen her wear this. He wonders if she bought it for the occasion. He hates that he doesn’t know. 

“Here we are,” she says at the open doors that lead inside the warmly lit exhibition space. Just before one enters, there’s a large, framed digital screen proclaiming the exhibit: “Write, Cut, Rewrite”. He hasn’t even gone inside yet, but it looks very official. He remembers when the whole thing was just an idea she brought up on the couch in the living room, and now it’s an entire exhibit. 

“It looks great,” he says. 

Rolan appears through the crowd, catching Liv’s attention. “Florrick wants to get some pictures with the team.”

“I’ll meet up with you after. I hope you enjoy it.”

And then she drifts away. He watches her go, weaving through the crowd that offers her smiles and greetings and recognition as she goes. Liv is perhaps the only person in the world who can’t see how much she’s universally adored. And this is all he’s entitled to, her walking him in and then disappearing. Reduced to nothing more than an acquaintance…to someone…unimportant to her. 

He hates that it’s his own fucking fault. 

He heads into the exhibit. There are people floating between the plaques and display cases, but it’s not busy. And he normally wouldn’t care to read every single thing in here, but he does because this is hers. If this is the only way to feel close to her tonight, he will take it greedily. 

He doesn’t know, of course, which descriptions and pieces are entirely hers or someone else’s but he’s struck by just how much of her he sees in the exhibit. He wanders through cut words, rewritten manuscripts, and things that went unpublished entirely. There’s even a section about censorship and Waiting for Godot. It’s beautiful, interesting, and even touches on how the digital medium means that we’re losing access to more and more of the rewriting process and instead only seeing completed works without the struggle. 

And ultimately, the exhibit is about celebrating the struggle. That creating something worth sharing means that it must pass through many iterations and that it must be rewritten, cut, and revised. That the messy, indelible process is worth doing. He knows that this is an exhibit about books, but he cannot help but think of himself. And perhaps it makes him selfish, but he finds himself rereading over and over the last and final plaque in the exhibit, somehow wishing it wasn’t over yet. 

Standing there, in this moment, he realizes all of the ways he’s spent the last two years avoiding his own messiness. Refusing to engage with the things about his life, himself that made him uncomfortable. From cutting off every match on the Weave before it could turn into something real, to covering up his connection to Liv, to the quiet and lonely life he’d been living. It had all been about avoiding the mess, even the ones of his own creation. And if he’s learned anything from Liv, it’s that creating something beautiful and worth sharing means that you have to wade through it. The only way out is through . And that thought alone is terrifying. 

He’s so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize he’s the only one left in the room. And then she’s there, making her way toward him. His breath catches. Sometimes, he looks at her and feels overwhelmed that she exists. 

“They’re closing up soon,” she says. 

He nods, runs a hand down his face only to find his cheeks wet. He’s been crying. He never cries. “It’s really beautiful. You’ve made something really wonderful here, Liv.”

“Thank you for coming. It…it means a lot,” she says, finally green eyes shining with emotion. 

There’s a lot he wants to say. “I know that this isn’t how you wanted tonight to be. I’m sorry.”

Her mouth presses together, and she looks away from him. “I know you’re sorry, and I even understand why you did what you did…I just…”

She just can’t forgive him. Can’t move past it. And that might be for the best. He worries that he is only ever meant to break things. He is trying, but she deserves someone who doesn’t have to wade through past traumas and heartbreaks. Someone already whole . 

“You don’t have to explain. It’s alright,” he says. It is decidedly not alright. He loves her and it is breaking the heart he didn’t even know he had to let her go. But what else can he do?

“Were you crying?” 

He sighs. “Just realized something about myself, is all. Through all of this,” he gestures at the exhibit. He wishes he could walk through it for the first time all over again. 

“And what is that?” 

“I’m a bad draft,” he replies, aiming for humor and missing it by a mile. “But nothing beautiful gets made without a bit of the messiness, and I’ve…I’ve been avoiding mine, and in doing so, I hurt you.”

“You are not a bad draft,” she replies. “You’re just…you’re just like everyone else. Just…figuring it all out.”

“Like everyone else?” He finds that hard to believe. 

“Yes. We’re all just making it up, moment to moment. That’s the secret of life.” She says the words with such vulnerability, such quiet surety, it’s hard not to believe her.  

“I miss you,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that. But I do. I miss talking to you, seeing you…I know that I might have made it impossible for anything more…but…”

She folds her arms, looking almost as though she’s trying to keep herself together. “I haven’t really had a chance to even breathe since the other night. I’ve just been trying to get through this.”

“We don’t have to talk about this tonight…” Of course, she wouldn’t want to deal with this tonight. He just…she’s right here and he needs to know…

“I just need some time.”

He’s pushed too hard here. He nods. “Of course. I…uh…Petras is threatening to move into the apartment if neither of us is staying there…and I…I’m fine staying with him if you…want to go back. I know you hate sleeping on Lae’zel’s couch.” He’s careful to avoid the word home. 

“You’ve been staying with Petras?” she asks, looking surprised. 

“What can I say? I’ve become a roommate person.”

That earns the slightest smile. “If you really are alright with that, it does sound nice to sleep in my own bed.”

That feels like progress of a sort. “Take all the time you need. You know how to reach me.”

She nods. “Even with everything, I am glad you came.”

He thinks this might be worse than her hating him. The polite kindness is almost unbearable. A gulf of distance has opened up between them in this moment, and he almost wants to fling himself into it if it means an end to this torture. 

“I was always going to be here to support you.” He stands there a moment, unsure what to do. He wants to reach for her; he has to bury the desire to touch her. It hurts to simply stand there like this so slips his hands in his pockets so that he doesn’t try to do anything he’ll later regret. “Goodnight, Liv.”

“Goodnight.”

He strides out of the exhibit and back into the reception area. Petras stands with Gale and Lae’zel wearing his ridiculous fake glasses. Lae’zel is glaring daggers at him, so he decides not to approach and instead simply gestures toward the door and allows Petras to follow or not. He’d rather not be alone, but just because he’s having a shit night doesn’t mean Petras should. But it would be a nice act of solidarity if he did.

He makes it out the door without sustaining a life-threatening injury, so it’s nice to know that while Lae’zel might not be his biggest fan she isn’t going to kill him. He hears Petras’s approach as he hurries to catch up to him as he’s nearly to the doors. 

“So…not good then?” Petras asks, face twisted in concern. 

Astarion steps out into the darkness of the evening. “I don’t know.”

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

Soooo sweet!!!

Met Gala 2024: Eddie Redmayne wears a dress to fashion's big night out as he matches with his wife Hannah Bagshawe in black and white gowns

By MILLY VEITCH FOR MAILONLINE

PUBLISHED: 00:51 BST, 7 May 2024 | UPDATED: 01:06 BST, 7 May 2024

Eddie Redmayne stood out from the crowd as he arrived at the 2024 Met Gala with his wife Hannah Bagshawe at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City on Monday. 

The actor, 42, pushed the boundaries for fashion's biggest night, opting for an androgynous look that he matched with his wife, 41.

Eddie wore a black blazer dress with a white net skirt and featuring sheer cut out panels and a wavy ink blot pattern.

Flashing a cheeky glimpse of his legs, the Oscar winner added black smart shoes as he cosied up to his stunning wife.

Hannah complemented her husband in a strapless gown with the same pattern and a corsetted bodice, showcasing her tiny waist.

Her dress boasted a wide pleated net skirt, while she added sheer evening gloves and a matching black fascinator.

She gave her petite frame a few extra inches of height in black velvet high heels as she held hands with Eddie.

Hannah and Eddie met in 2000 at a charity fashion show while attending Eton College, striking up a friendship.

They later started dating in January 2012 after Eddie invited her to a trip to Florence during a shooting break for Les Miserables.

The couple got engaged in June 2014 and went on to tie the knot in December that year at the Babington House.

Eddie and Hannah are the proud parents of eight-year-old daughter Iris, eight, and six-year old son Luke.

The Costume Institute's spring exhibition falls on the first Monday in May every year and is held at New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art.

This year the event is titled Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion while the dress code is The Garden of Time.

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-13389305/Met-Gala-2024-Eddie-Redmayne-looks-loved-wife-Hannah-Bagshawe-wear-matching-black-white-semi-sheer-dresses.html

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Stuck storming

Pairings: Weems x R (Platonic)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: You and Weems get stuck in Burlington. Luckily Weems has somewhere for you to stay. However unluckily you get sick.

TW: flooding, sickness (like flu symptoms), prescription meds, anxiety, medicine

A/n there will be a part 2 to this but the whole thing was too long (in my opinion) to post as just one chapter/post. And I felt I needed it to be long to get in all the good stuff.

The rain smashed against the windshield and the wind blew relentlessly. You and the headmistress had been on your way back from Burlington when you got the storm warning. Principal Weems had been hoping to make it back to nevermore before the roads flooded. All the two of you had was her laptop, your sketchbook, a pencil-case, her work planner, both of your wallets with various amounts of cash and credit cards, your uniform and the clothes on your back. If you got stuck there really wasn’t too much to do until you made it back. You had left your phone in your dorm, but you were pretty sure that principal Weems had hers in the pocket of her white blazer. Luckily you had the foresight to bring a single change of mildly comfy clothes for the drive back, not eager to sit in the car for hours in your stiff uniform.

You felt bad, it was partly your fault the two of you were in this situation. It had begun when your art teacher had posed the idea to Larissa during a staff meeting to enter the best of the art classes works into the annual competition at Burlington. When she had received a call back a few weeks later she was pleasantly surprised to hear you had won. She had yet to see the artworks as she had simply given the teacher permission before she was wrapped up in work again.

As a part of the prize, the winner had their work exhibited at the art museum and the company hosted an event of their donors, other artists and art critics. It was a good way for the school to show face and even potentially scope for new donors. When Larissa had seen your artwork, a large painting of nevermore, she loved it. It was done in acrylic paints set at sunrise with the colours bouncing off the stone walls. She offered you money for it to hang in the school, but you declined saying she could have it for free as it was too large to take home with you after the school year.

Larissa had chatted idly with the other high-end members of society, and you showed face and awkwardly thanked people when they complimented your art. You honestly had no idea why you had agreed to enter, praise was not something you were very good with receiving. Larissa seemed to notice and often helped change the topic for you.

After around a stuff half hour of pleasantries and fake smiles you took your sketchbook and hid out further in the gallery to sketch. After a while Larissa came and sat with you before the event ended and you said your goodbyes. You changed in the gallery bathrooms and put your folded uniform in your backpack around your sketchbook to protect it from the rain that was starting outside. The backpack wasn’t waterproof.

However now it seemed you weren’t going to be making it back today or maybe even tomorrow. You had had a lucky run so far but coming across one of the creeks it had risen above the bridge. Effectively flooding and meaning you would have to stay in Burlington for the night. Larissa sighed.

“Sorry darling. Looks like we’re staying for the night.” She said apologetically.

“It's alright you didn’t cause the rain.” You smiled.

“I guess you're right.” She said and put the car into gear.

After the drive back you pulled into a parking lot in front of a what seemed to be an apartment complex.

“Um is this a hotel?” You asked, confused. Larissa laughed softly.

“No darling. This is my apartment.” You looked at her surprised. “I often have conferences in Burlington and so do other teachers, a few years ago we raised funds to buy and apartment so teachers could save costs and opt for something other than a stiff hotel mattress for however many nights they would be staying.”

“Cool.” You said.

“I’ll go find a park you go into the warm.” She said pulling up by the front door. You nodded and got out. Larissa went to park, and you found the door locked. With no other option you clutched your bag to your chest and stood in the rain waiting. After a few minutes Larissa came hurrying over.

“Darling? What are you doing outside still?” She asked concerned.

“L-locked” you stuttered and she mentally facepalmed, it was after five of course it was locked. She quickly put in the code and ushered you inside. You were freezing your teeth chattering and you began to worry you were going to get sick from the rain and the cold.

“Come, we need to warm you up.” The principal said and pulled you into an elevator. She pressed a button and pulled you into her side with an arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep you warm. She ran her hand up and down the sleeve of your soaked hoodie to try and get some warmth from the friction.

After what felt like ages, the lift stopped, and Larissa put in another code. Explaining that each floor was an apartment so each level had its own code so only those who lived there could get in. After a minute a small light above the keypad went green and the door shuddered open. You stepped out after Larissa, and she turned on the light. The place was clean and very modern. White walls and grey stone bench tops. There was a kitchen with a fridge, oven and microwave which was in an open plan living room. There were ceiling to floor windows in the living room which looked out on the city below. There was a dining table and couch and a tv. Down the corridor you assumed were bedrooms, bathrooms and maybe a laundry room.

“Go hope in the shower love. First bedroom on the right. It had an ensuite. I’ll leave you some of the spare clothes i keep here on the bed for when your done and we can put those in the dryer after.” She said setting her bag down on the table. You nodded and scurried off. You left your bag just inside the bedroom door. You checked your sketchbook was ok and thanked god that you had the foresight to wrap it in your uniform, which had kept it dry.

You stripped of the soaking wet clothes which were heavy with water and stepped into the steaming shower. You shivered at the contact the warm water made with your skin. It felt amazing. Using the soap which smelt suspiciously like your principal, you also washed your hair. After a thorough shower you stepped out and towel dried your hair. Carefully opening the door wrapped only in a towel you peaked out. Just as promised, principal Weems had left you a shirt which was too big on you and fell to your mid thighs but was comfy and soft. She had also left a pair of tracksuit pants with a drawstring that you couldn’t imagine her wearing no matter how hard you tried. You put the clothes on and looked n the mirror. A bit baggy on you but you rolled up the cuffs of the pants and it was fine. You were mildly surprised to see the t-shirt was an old band t-shirt which looked like it was from the 80s based on the words on the back. “Rolling stones world tour 1987” was printed in big letters and you giggled imagining your hard-working principal dancing around in a crowd at what would have probably been a rave.

After warming yourself up, you groaned as you realised the pressure in your head wasn’t from the heat but another reason. The beginnings of a headache budded behind your eyes, and you pressed the heel of your palm to them in an attempt to stop it. You sniffled and the pressure in your sinuses grew.

“Dammit” you cursed. How were you supposed to survive in close quarters with your principal when sick? Normally you isolated yourself and looked after your own body until you were better. But you doubted you would be able to do that or hide the sickness from Larissa.

Heaving a sigh, you opened the bedroom door and wandered back into the living room. The principal was sat with a mug of hot chocolate and there was a second one on the coffee table. She was scrolling through Netflix, and you plopped down beside her. She raised a brow but didn’t comment, opting for another sip of the chocolate drink. She gestured towards the mug, and you thanked her and cradled the warm drink in your hands. Taking careful sip incase it was hot, the blissful taste of liquid chocolate smoother than silk and rich as honey flooded your mouth. You let out a small noise of content and Larissa laughed making you blush slightly.

“It's my own special stash. I keep it for after stressful conferences. I get it imported from Switzerland.” She said and you looked at her wide eyed.

“The Swedes?” You asked and she laughed again and nodded. “Well, they certainly make good chocolate. And I’m happy I get to have it again. Thank you principal weems.” You said and she smiled softly at you.

“No problem darling.” She said

“Reminds me of home.” You said with a sigh.

“How so?” She questioned after settling on a studio Ghibli film and lowering the volume to continue the conversation.

“First of,” you began “you have excellent taste in Tv. Second, despite only ever visiting Austria, it runs in my blood. I have Austrian heritage and so at home we have a lot of Austrian food. I learnt to speak German as a kid but i don’t remember to much of it, just enough to get by.” You said and she looked at you impressed.

“Germans not an easy language to learn as a kid.” She said and you shrugged.

“I guess just… you know, talking about Europe reminds me of home. Plus, I traveled across Europe with my family as a child. I’ve even been to Switzerland and tasted their fondue firsthand.” You said with a smile.

“Im jealous.” Principle weems said. “Their cheese and chocolate are what their best at.”

“Oh, and don’t i know it.” You smiled. After a natural lull in the conversation the principal turned up the volume slightly and you curled up on the couch to get comfy. Larissa spared you a glance every now and then to check on you but you seemed content.

You didn’t remember falling asleep when you woke up. But there was no better way to wake up than to the smell of pancakes. You popped your head up to look over the back of the couch into the kitchen and smiled. The principal was dancing slightly as she cooked and looked up and met your eyes, blushing slightly at being caught.

“Good morning darling.” She said flipping another of the pancakes. “You were sleeping in late so i went to the shops and got us some food. It looks like we’re not leave anytime soon.” She said and you looked to the window. The rain still coming down hard. “I’ve contacted the school and your friends to let them know we are ok. Luckily i have my laptop and it didn’t get wet so I can always work remotely. You can do whatever you want today. Other than leave the apartment.” She smiled. “Im afraid I don’t have much here to do but there’s always the Tv and i have a random assortment of stationery you can use for art.” She smiled and you nodded and rubbed tiredly at your eyes stifling a yawn.

You felt worse today. The headache had fully set in, bordering on migraine territory. Your throat felt raw, and your head felt like it was packed with a lovely sand and cotton blended concrete that would probably only be sold as a torture device in the seventh circle of hell itself. Even after rubbing the sleep from your eyes and blinking the light hurt a bit and your head was swimming. It was feeling a bit too warm in here, but you opted to ignore that and focus on the idea of food. After a minute you stood and sat at the table. Larissa came over a minute later and put down three plates. Two empty and one piled high with a stack of breakfasty goodness. She handed you a glass of apple juice and you thanked her.

After eating some of the pancakes and drowning them in the sticky syrup the principle had provided you paused eyes wide, made chew.

“Shit.” You said and the principal paused.

“Ms L/n-“ she began but you cut her off.

“I don’t have my anxiety meds with me.” You said sounding slightly panicked. Larissa paled slightly.

“Darling?” She said slowly and carefully. “What happens if you don’t take them?” She looked almost scared.

“Oh, i’ll be fine. A bit more anxious than i like to be. But fine.” You said coming to terms with it.

“Hmmm.” The principal hummed. “Are they prescription?” She asked and you nodded. “I’ll see if i can get the nurse to send a script to the local pharmacy that’s just down the road. And i’ll pick them up for you. When do you need them by?” She asked looking at her watch.

“Preferable as soon as possible but i can wait.” You said poking at the food on your plate. It seemed like the room was getting hotter and it was getting harder to downplay the congestion in your voice. The excuse of sleep was quickly running out. After another pause, she spoke again.

“I’ll grab them after breakfast then.” She said, “do you want to come with?” The principal asked and you knew saying no would either be rude or suspicious, so you nodded. After you had eaten the uncomfortable heat had seemingly only gotten worse. You were speaking less now, and you felt principal Weems’s stare burning into your back as you watched the rain from the couch as she washed up. You knew she was getting a little suspicious now and the sickness was getting harder to hide.

After putting the dishes away, freshly hand dried and scrubbed Larissa came over to you. Placing a hand on your shoulder she frowned at the heat coming from you, but you quickly turned around and spoke before she could.

“Ready to go?” You asked hoping to sound more put together than you felt.

“Sure. Let me grab my car keys.” She said and decided to let the matter go for now. She grabbed an umbrella and the two of you went down to the car.

For some reason even the car was hot. When the principal wasn’t looking you pressed your overly hot forehead to the cool glass of the window and sighed slightly. However sneaky you thought you were being; you weren’t. Simple as that. The principal had been around more than enough stubborn teenagers to know when they were sick. Pulling into the chemist she unbuckled at reached over to press her hand to your cheek. Your eyes were closed so you jumped slightly at the unexpected contact. She clicked her tongue and sighed.

“Darling why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” She asked, her tone was gentle but stern. You turned to look at her alarmed which she thought was strangely endearing. Your cheeks held the flushed pink of a fever, and your eyes were growing glassy.

“I-i didn’t want to make you worry about me.” You admitted softly and she sighed.

“Darling it’s my job. And i also care about you.” She said softly. “I’ll pick up some medicine and supplies while I’m in the pharmacy. You stay here and hold down the fort.” She said and you hummed, placing your face against the glass again, eyes fluttering shut. The principal frowned; she had been expecting to have to fight you on it. Concerned she made a mental note to be quick.

MASTERLIST

[denimbex1986]

An interactive Doctor Who sculpture made out of regenerated technology has materialised on London’s South Bank.

To celebrate the return of Doctor Who and as part of the brand’s 60th anniversary celebrations, BBC Studios has teamed up with Back Market - the global online marketplace for refurbished tech - to create a showstopping installation on London’s South Bank. This mind-bending 180-degree interactive sculpture showcases the current Doctor, David Tennant, seamlessly regenerating into the Fifteenth Doctor, Ncuti Gatwa. 

The Doctor’s regeneration into a new physical form at the end of each series is an iconic trope of the show. The installation, which acts as a homage to the process, can be seen on London’s South Bank from Friday 8th until Monday 11th December.

See the ART OF REGENERATION - from Friday 8th until Monday 11th December at London's South Bank

The ART OF REGENERATION sculpture is made from hundreds of discarded devices, acting as a physical embodiment of Tennant’s iconic character leaving the show and transforming into Gatwa’s Doctor.

The 7ft by 9ft anamorphic sculpture has been handcrafted by Global Street Art using unused regenerated tech as an artistic representation of the estimated 100 tonnes of e-waste thrown into landfill every minute. Alongside the usual tech you’d find on the B Corp’s marketplace, eagle-eyed Doctor Who fans will spot special devices recycled from the space-time continuum, including the TARDIS, sonic screwdrivers, plus a few additional easter eggs.

There is a wealth of activity happening on the South Bank around the activation:

On Friday 8th the ART OF REGENERATION sculpture will have a very special guest appearance from the TARDIS (10am-2pm only).

On Saturday 9th we are hosting a cosplay event, inviting fans to get dressed up and come down to the pop-up for a photo call at 12pm. So dust off that bow-tie and pull out your tweed blazer to join your fellow Whovians at the South Bank this weekend…COSPLAYERS ASSEMBLE!

On Sunday 10th between 11am and 2pm, fans will also be able to come down and see the Fourteenth Doctor’s sonic screwdriver as well as for the first time, Ncuti’s brand-new Sonic Screwdriver as part of the exhibit.

After the activation, the sculpture will return to BBC Studios’ Television Centre headquarters, where it will live until it’s dismantled, and the tech used to create the installation will be recycled.

For those looking to cash in on old devices before Christmas, Back Market is inviting the public to make use of its Trade-in service by selling unwanted electronics to professional refurbishers. To make the process super easy, Back Market is giving away recycled envelopes to pack with your old device and seal with a pre-paid Back Market postage label generated online, plus exclusive Back Market and Doctor Who merchandise for those who can flex their superfan skills.

Back Market and BBC Studios’ Doctor Who sculpture the ART OF REGENERATION is available for free public viewing from Friday 8th until Monday 11th December at the Queen’s Stone on the South Bank’s bustling Riverside Walkway, next to the OXO Tower.'

[shcftingpieces]

Mystery Prompt Day 11 from the tea room server Prompt: It’s the first night of a brand new art exhibit, and the museum is throwing a gala to show off their new centerpiece — a ten inch sculpture encrusted with gems worth a staggering twenty million dollars. Security is top notch, but shortly after the appetizers start circulating, the lights go out for seventeen seconds. When they come back on, the statue is missing. @knowseverythingaboutyou​

Maria had suggested a dress for the gala, something befitting the wife of Remington Drake. Blair had of course shown up in something entirely different, navy blazer and loose blouse underneath that dipped low enough to distract if it shifted a certain way. Because when had Blair ever gone along with what Maria wanted. Half the fun was seeing the flash of frustration that Blair had come to know and fully enjoy. Perhaps on days when she was being overly honest, which weren’t many for the con woman, she’d admit to being attracted to the look as well. “I had told you you really should have come in the limo with me,” Blair said breezily, taking a sip of champagne. “Oh don’t worry it’s not coming out of the agency budget. I casually complained to Finnegan about ours being serviced and having to settle for something smaller for the gala and he graciously volunteered his for the night.” Blair looked particularly smug at the deft way she had guided the older gentleman who had become a regular client of theirs into offering up the transportation for the evening. She was waiting for Maria’s reply when the light’s cut out. Subconsciously she pressed in closer to Maria, not wanting to lose her in the dark, already on high alert. Blackouts didn’t just happen at events like this. “Something’s going on,” she mumbled like Maria didn’t already know that. 

It was barely restrained pandemonium when the lights came back on. A high-pitched scream above the concerned rumblings of a crowd not used to any inconvenience. The literal gem of the evening was gone - no sculpture to be found on the empty display in the middle of the room. The benefactor and museum curators were already in a tizzy when Blair decided to step in. “No cause of alarm,” she announced smoothly, sliding in to the area by deftly sidestepping security in a way only possible because she was a woman and not recognized as a threat. “The Drake agency will get to the bottom of this. My husband is currently elsewhere with pressing business, but I am certain he would offer his support and his ever competent associate Maria Hill is here to handle any investigation.” Blair gestured to Maria with a pleased expression so she could step in and do what she did best the actual investigative work. 

[sporadicsuitexpert]

Shirts That Transition Perfectly from Day to Night

Luxury T-shirts for Simple And Easy Style

Introduction

When it concerns fashion, adaptability is essential. All of us want our wardrobe to work as tough as we do, effortlessly transitioning from day to night. And what better method to achieve this than with a collection of t-shirts that flawlessly take you from the workplace to a night out on the town? In this short article, we will explore the world of shirts that shift effortlessly from day to night, showcasing their glamorous designs and impeccable workmanship. Prepare yourself to raise your design video game with these essential pieces.

Shirts That Transition Flawlessly from Day to Night

There's absolutely nothing quite like a shirt that can effortlessly adjust to any occasion. Whether you're heading into the boardroom or marching for a romantic dinner, these t-shirts are created to make a statement. With their attention to detail and splendid fabrics, they exude high-end and sophistication. Let's take a better take a look at a few of our preferred styles.

1. The Classic White Shirt

The classic white t-shirt is a classic staple in every closet. Its clean lines and crisp look make it best for both professional and social settings. Pair it with tailored trousers and heels for a sleek daytime appearance, then change it up with a leather skirt and statement necklace for an evening ensemble that turns heads.

2. The Silk Blouse

For a sophisticated touch, opt for a silk blouse. This glamorous fabric adds immediate elegance to any attire. Wear it tucked into high-waisted trousers and equip with delicate precious jewelry during the day. Come nighttime, let the blouse shine by matching it with a smooth pencil skirt and strappy heels.

3. The Declaration Print Shirt

Make a vibrant impression with a declaration print shirt. Whether it's vibrant florals or abstract patterns, these t-shirts add character and style to your appearance. Keep things casual during the day by matching it with denims and flats. Then, when the sun sets, gown it up with a tailored blazer and ankle boots for a trendy and edgy vibe.

4. The Chambray Shirt

A chambray shirt is the epitome of uncomplicated style. Its light-weight fabric and relaxed fit make it perfect for daytime wear. Pair it with shorts and shoes for a laid-back brunch with buddies. As night approaches, gown it up with a leather skirt and heels for a night out on the town.

5. The Wrap Shirt

For a womanly touch, choose a wrap shirt. This flattering shape accentuates your waist and adds a touch of elegance to any outfit. Use it with wide-leg trousers and wedges during the day, then change to a fitted pencil skirt and pumps for a night appearance that oozes sophistication.

6. The Off-Shoulder Blouse

For a touch of romance, go for an off-shoulder blouse. This style exhibits femininity and produces a lovely neckline. Combine it with high-waisted trousers and sandals during the day, then shift to a shirts fitted skirt and statement earrings for an evening look that's both trendy and glamorous.

FAQs about Shirts That Transition Effortlessly from Day to Night

Can I use these shirts to formal events? Definitely! These t-shirts are flexible enough to be dressed up or down depending on the occasion. For official occasions, merely match them with customized trousers or skirts, add some sophisticated devices,

[chicnestlifestyle]

Fashion Icon Dress to Impress: Unveiling Timeless Elegance and Style

In the world of fashion, "dress to impress" is more than a mantra—it’s a lifestyle. For fashion icons, dressing to impress is second nature, blending creativity, individuality, and confidence. From classic Hollywood glamor to contemporary streetwear chic, fashion icons have shaped and reshaped how we perceive style. This guide explores the essence of dressing to impress, inspired by fashion icons across eras, and offers actionable tips to help you embrace their timeless elegance.

Introduction: The Power of Dressing to Impress

Fashion is a powerful form of self-expression. It communicates personality, ambition, and mood without uttering a word. Fashion icons understand this power, using clothing to tell their stories and leave lasting impressions.

Key reasons why dressing to impress matters:

First Impressions: A well-put-together outfit speaks volumes about your attention to detail.

Confidence Booster: Dressing well instills self-assurance and positivity.

Cultural Influence: Fashion reflects the zeitgeist, and icons are at its forefront.

1. Defining a Fashion Icon

a. What Makes a Fashion Icon?

A fashion icon is more than someone with an enviable wardrobe; it’s a person who:

Consistently redefines style.

Influences fashion trends.

Exhibits authenticity and individuality.

b. The Evolution of Fashion Icons

Golden Age of Hollywood: Think Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly, epitomizing elegance.

Rebellious 70s & 80s: Madonna and David Bowie breaking norms.

Modern Era: Rihanna and Harry Styles embracing fluidity and innovation.

2. Dressing to Impress: Lessons from Fashion Icons

a. The Classic Elegance of Audrey Hepburn

Signature Style: Little black dress, pearls, and minimal makeup.

How to Emulate: Invest in timeless pieces, like a tailored trench coat or black ballet flats.

b. The Boldness of Madonna

Signature Style: Layered jewelry, lace gloves, and corsets.

How to Emulate: Don’t shy away from statement pieces and mix textures fearlessly.

c. The Versatility of Rihanna

Signature Style: Oscillates between edgy streetwear and haute couture.

How to Emulate: Play with proportions and be unapologetically bold in your choices.

3. Building a Wardrobe That Impresses

a. Wardrobe Essentials Inspired by Icons

The Little Black Dress (LBD): A staple popularized by Hepburn, versatile for any occasion.

A Statement Jacket: From Bowie’s metallic blazers to Gigi Hadid’s oversized coats.

Tailored Pieces: Power suits inspired by icons like Princess Diana.

Quality Footwear: Invest in classic pumps or bold boots.

b. Experimenting with Trends

While classics form the foundation, fashion icons don’t shy away from trends. Balance trendy items with timeless staples for a cohesive look.

4. Dressing for Different Occasions

a. Everyday Chic

Tips: Opt for clean lines and neutral tones. Add a pop of color with accessories.

Example: A white button-up shirt paired with high-waisted jeans and loafers.

b. Red Carpet Glamour

Tips: Choose a silhouette that complements your body shape and fabrics that exude luxury.

Example: A floor-length gown with subtle embellishments.

c. Street Style Cool

Tips: Combine high and low fashion—think designer bags with sneakers.

Example: Oversized blazer with biker shorts and chunky sneakers.

5. Accessories: The Ultimate Game-Changer

a. Iconic Accessories

Statement Jewelry: Think Elizabeth Taylor’s diamond necklaces.

Scarves: Jackie Kennedy’s go-to accessory.

Sunglasses: Oversized frames made famous by Anna Wintour.

b. How to Accessorize Like a Pro

Less is More: Keep it simple for formal events.

Layering: Experiment with stacking rings or necklaces for a trendy vibe.

Personal Touch: Choose items with sentimental value, like heirloom pieces.

6. The Role of Confidence in Dressing to Impress

a. Why Confidence Matters

Even the most exquisite outfit falls flat without confidence. Fashion icons exude self-assurance, making their ensembles memorable.

b. Building Confidence Through Fashion

Find Your Signature Style: Experiment until you discover what feels authentic.

Fit Is Key: Ensure clothing fits well and flatters your figure.

Stand Tall: Good posture enhances any look.

7. Sustainability: The New Trend Among Fashion Icons

a. Iconic Advocates for Sustainability

Emma Watson: Promotes ethical fashion.

Stella McCartney: A designer focused on eco-friendly materials.

b. How to Embrace Sustainable Fashion

Thrift and Vintage Shopping: Discover unique pieces with history.

Invest in Quality: Choose items that last, reducing the need for frequent replacements.

Support Ethical Brands: Research brands that prioritize sustainability.

FAQs About Dressing to Impress

Q: How can I find my signature style?

A: Start by identifying pieces that make you feel confident and align with your lifestyle. Experiment and refine over time.

Q: Can I dress to impress on a budget?

A: Absolutely! Focus on quality over quantity, thrift for unique finds, and prioritize timeless over trendy items.

Q: What’s the most versatile accessory for dressing to impress?

A: A classic pair of sunglasses or a well-crafted leather handbag.

Q: How do fashion icons stay relevant?

A: By evolving their style while staying true to their essence.

Conclusion: Becoming Your Own Fashion Icon

Dressing to impress isn’t about copying trends; it’s about expressing your unique story through fashion. By learning from icons, curating a versatile wardrobe, and embracing confidence, you can create a style that’s both timeless and impactful. Remember, the key to dressing to impress lies in authenticity—wear your clothes, don’t let them wear you. Step out, stand tall, and let your style speak volumes.

by Shekh Sakil

[naymish]

Contemporary Fashion with a Twist: Roseplant Shirt and Owl Shirt for Sale

The Beauty of the Roseplant Shirt

The Roseplant Shirt is an ode to nature’s elegance and resilience. Featuring a delicate yet bold design of blooming roses intertwined with verdant vines, this shirt captures the spirit of growth and beauty. Perfect for casual outings, art exhibitions, or even a laid-back office setting, it balances comfort and sophistication effortlessly.

Crafted from premium breathable fabric, the Roseplant Shirt ensures all-day comfort. The blend of earthy tones and floral patterns makes it a versatile choice that pairs beautifully with denim, tailored trousers, or even a midi skirt for a more polished look.

When it comes to contemporary fashion, the Roseplant Shirt contemporary fashion for sale is not just a piece of clothing—it’s a statement. It embodies the wearer’s connection to nature and their appreciation for timeless style.

Special Event Dressing with the Owl Shirt

For those searching for a unique piece to elevate their wardrobe, the Owl Shirt is the ultimate choice. Designed with intricate illustrations of owls in mid-flight, perched gracefully, or framed against a backdrop of stars, this shirt is perfect for special occasions. It combines elegance with an air of mystery, making it an ideal pick for evening events, creative gatherings, or even a formal dinner.

The Owl Shirt is made from silky, lightweight fabric that drapes beautifully, ensuring you look and feel your best. Its tailored fit flatters a variety of body types, while the striking owl designs add a touch of whimsy to your ensemble. If you're preparing for a special occasion and want to stand out, special event dressing Owl Shirt for sale is exactly what you need.

Pairing Tips for Maximum Impact

Roseplant Shirt Styling:

Day Look: Pair the Roseplant Shirt with high-waisted jeans and white sneakers for a fresh, casual outfit.

Evening Look: Tuck it into a pleated skirt, add heels, and accessorize with minimalist jewelry for a semi-formal dinner.

Owl Shirt Styling:

Day Look: Match the Owl Shirt with black trousers and loafers for a creative office vibe.

Evening Look: Wear it with a tailored blazer, slim-fit pants, and ankle boots to make a bold statement.

Why These Shirts Are Must-Haves

Both the Roseplant Shirt and the Owl Shirt represent more than just fashion—they’re conversation starters. They let you express your personality, showcase your interests, and make an impression wherever you go. The detailed designs on these shirts highlight the craftsmanship and attention to detail that go into creating them.

Moreover, they are designed with versatility in mind, allowing you to effortlessly transition between casual and formal settings. Investing in these shirts means adding timeless, sustainable pieces to your collection that won’t go out of style.

[connectpeoplework-blog]

Pramoksh Ethnic Wear | Crafting Elegance | Traditional Sherwanis | Blaze... Pramoksh Ethnic Wear: Crafting Elegance in Traditional Sherwanis and Indo-Western Blazers Pramoksh Ethnic Wear stands out as a beacon of craftsmanship and elegance in the realm of traditional Indian attire. Specializing in the creation of exquisite sherwanis and Indo-Western blazers, Pramoksh seamlessly blends age-old traditions with contemporary aesthetics. Each piece is meticulously crafted, reflecting the brand's dedication to quality and attention to detail. The 79th National Garment Fair, held from 24th to 26th July 2024 at the Nesco, Goregaon Exhibition Center in Mumbai, served as the perfect platform for Pramoksh to showcase their stunning collection. As India’s largest apparel trade show, the fair attracts industry leaders and fashion enthusiasts alike, making it an ideal venue for Pramoksh to exhibit their latest designs. A special thanks to Mr. Mitul Sutariya for his gracious support in allowing us to videograph the event and providing an insightful overview of the various denim styles on display. His hospitality and detailed explanations added a unique dimension to our experience, making it both informative and enjoyable. Pramoksh's participation in the National Garment Fair not only highlighted their commitment to preserving traditional craftsmanship but also their innovative approach to ethnic wear. Their collection, marked by intricate designs and luxurious fabrics, truly captured the essence of elegance and sophistication, leaving a lasting impression on all attendees. @Cpwworld @nesoevents4438 @NescoEvents @mumbaiexhibition4967 #PramokshEthnicWear #TraditionalSherwani #IndoWesternBlazers #CraftingElegance #NationalGarmentFair #79thNationalGarmentFair #NescoGoregaon #MumbaiEvents #IndianApparel #FashionTradeShow #EthnicFashion #MensFashion #ApparelExhibition #DenimStyles #ThankYouMrMitulSutariya #FashionVideography #MensDenim #FashionShowcase #IndianWear #FashionCraftsmanship

[leatherylook1212]

 Iconic Leather Love: How to Rock a Women's Leather Jacket for Every Occasion

 Unleashing the Timeless Power of the Leather Jacket

Nothing speaks of timeless style and edgy sophistication quite like a women's leather jacket. A symbol of rebellious spirits and fashion-forward thinkers, the leather jacket is a versatile powerhouse in any woman's wardrobe. From classic biker styles to sleek, contemporary cuts, the right leather jacket can transform your look, providing both flair and function. Let's dive into how you can rock this iconic piece for any occasion, making every outfit unforgettable.

1. Corporate Chic: Leather in the Workplace

Who says leather can't be office-appropriate? Elevate your professional attire by incorporating a leather jacket into your work ensemble. Opt for a tailored leather blazer or a slim-fit moto jacket in subdued colors like black, navy, or burgundy. Pair it with high-waisted trousers and a soft silk blouse to maintain an air of formality, or drape it over a knee-length pencil dress. The key is to keep the rest of your outfit conservative to let the jacket make a sophisticated statement without overwhelming.

2. Weekend Wanderings: Casual Days Out

For those relaxed weekend vibes, a woman leather jacket is your go-to layering piece. Whether you're brunching with friends or exploring the city, a slightly oversized leather bomber adds a touch of laid-back cool to your ensemble. Throw it over a vintage tee and high-rise jeans, or layer it over a floral midi dress to add a bit of edge to a feminine look. Complete the outfit with ankle boots or your favorite sneakers for effortless style.

3. Evening Elegance: Dressed to Impress

Transform your night-out attire with the sleek touch of a leather jacket. Instead of reaching for your usual shawl or blazer, drape a leather jacket over your shoulders when wearing an elegant evening dress. Choose a cropped cut to highlight your waist, or a studded style to bring some glamor to a simple black dress. High heels and a clutch are all you need to pull together a look that’s both chic and daring.

4. Seasonal Flexibility: Adapting to the Weather

A leather jacket is not just for the cooler months; it's a year-round favorite. In autumn, pair it with scarves and hats in rich autumnal colors. During spring, lighten things up by choosing a jacket in a softer hue like pastel pink or baby blue, and wear it over floral dresses or light knits. For the colder months, layer your jacket with chunky sweaters, thick leggings, and boots to stay warm without sacrificing style.

5. Special Events: Making a Bold Statement

When it's time to make a statement, let your leather jacket be the centerpiece. Opt for a jacket with unique textures, metallic finishes, or intricate embroidery to stand out at concerts, art exhibits, or any special event where fashion-forward is the focus. Pair it with high-waisted leather pants for a monochromatic look, or with a sleek jumpsuit for modern flair.

6. Care and Longevity: Preserving Your Leather Jacket

Maintaining your leather jacket ensures it stays beautiful for years. Store it properly on a padded hanger to keep its shape, clean it with a specialized leather cleaner to prevent damage, and treat it with a conditioner to keep the leather soft and supple. If you encounter serious stains or wear, consult a professional for specialized care.

Conclusion: Celebrating Versatility and Style

A leather jacket is more than just a piece of clothing; it's a fashion statement that exudes confidence and sophistication. By mastering how to style it for different occasions, you embrace its versatility and make every look memorable. Whether you're dressing for the boardroom or the dance floor, a leather jacket adds that final touch of polish, proving once again that some style staples never go out of fashion.

[kingjain]

Love The Chicago Bears Love Hug Facebook Care Emoji T-Shirt

The Chicago Bears Love Hug Facebook Care Emoji T-Shirt is the perfect gift for both men and women who are fans of the Chicago Bears and want to show their love and support for the team. This shirt goes beyond just being a simple piece of clothing; it represents the emotions and passion that fans have for their favorite team. The design of the t-shirt features the iconic Chicago Bears insignia, which is a beloved symbol amongst fans. However, what sets this shirt apart is the addition of the Facebook Care Emoji – the well-known yellow smiley face hugging a heart. This simple yet powerful addition conveys a strong message of love and care towards the team, making it a fantastic gift for anyone who loves the Chicago Bears. One of the reasons why this shirt makes such a great gift for both men and women is its versatility. The t-shirt comes in a unisex design, ensuring that it fits well and looks great on people of all genders. The comfortable fabric and loose fit make it suitable for wearing around the house, to the game, or even to social events. The shirt can be paired with jeans or shorts for a casual look or dressed up with a skirt or blazer for a more fashionable ensemble. Moreover, the t-shirt is available in multiple sizes, ranging from small to XXXL, ensuring that it can be enjoyed by fans of all shapes and sizes. This inclusivity makes it a gift that can be given to anyone, regardless of their age or body type. Whether it's a die-hard fan who has been supporting the team for decades or a new supporter just starting their Chicago Bears journey, this t-shirt will surely be appreciated. Not only does this t-shirt allow fans to proudly display their love for the Chicago Bears, but it also showcases their caring and compassionate nature. The Facebook Care Emoji signifies kindness and empathy, making it a symbol of unity amongst fans. By wearing this shirt, fans are not only showing support for the team, but they are also spreading a message of love and care towards fellow fans. In conclusion, the Chicago Bears Love Hug Facebook Care Emoji T-Shirt is a versatile and meaningful gift that is suitable for both men and women. Its unisex design, comfortable fit, and availability in various sizes ensure that it can be enjoyed by individuals of all genders and body types. By wearing this shirt, fans can proudly exhibit their love for the Chicago Bears while also spreading a message of caring and unity amongst fellow supporters. Whether it's for a birthday, holiday, or just to show appreciation, this t-shirt is a fantastic gift option for anyone who loves the Chicago Bears.

Get it here : Love The Chicago Bears Love Hug Facebook Care Emoji T-Shirt

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