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roseykat · 6 months

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TITLE: Table Manners and Bible Studies

PAIRING: Jeongin x reader

SUMMARY: Jeongin, a churchgoer who is also a very sexual person, likes to immerse both you and himself in the realm of sensory play, among other things as well.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: themes of BDSM centred around sensory play, soft dom Jeongin, explicit language, use of ice cubes, body-safe hot candle wax, a feather, blindfold, safe and consensual play, nipple stimulated orgasm, mentions of religion (no specific religion is being mentioned here but the concept is that Jeongin is religious for the purposes of this work).

MASTERLIST

He goes to church. That’s all you know about one of the guys in your class who always dresses well, dons cute glasses and seems well put together. He’s an intriguing one among the masses of students that attend and even with the volume of people, he still stood out to you even if he was quiet.

However, it was never in your interest to approach a guy like him. He and his four friends, all from the same church, seemed relatively lovely and all kept to themselves. From your perspective, it appeared as if two of the girls really liked him. If they did, you don’t blame them. Whoever he was seemed to be sweet.

“Still eyeing him up?” Your friend Minho pokes you in the ribs with his finger, lulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m not eyeing him up,” you snap defensively, averting your stare away from his group to refocus on your lunch with him.

“Just say he’s hot,” he encourages. “If I’m willing to admit it, then you should.”

“You think he’s hot?”

“And you don’t?” He questions back, almost offended that you didn’t assume otherwise.

“I suppose that means something coming from a whore such as yourself,” you remember with a sigh.

Minho nods in agreement with your statement, “and as a whore, I’m telling you he’s hot. So why not go for him?”

“That’s not who I want though,�� you say to him.

A cackle nearly breaks out from his mouth, “that’s right. So how is the hunt for one of those dom boyfriends going anyway? Isn’t that the type you’re looking for?”

“He doesn’t have to be, but it would help significantly,” you answer truthfully. “I just think that would be the best way to get my foot in the door for getting into BDSM.”

“I seriously don’t know where you got that idea from, but you don’t need to go searching for a boyfriend who’s into BDSM to get into it,” Minho truthfully informs you. “There are sites and apps where you can connect to doms and go from there. But if you do, don’t just jump at the first dom that you see. Always do background checks.”

You sometimes forget that Minho himself is in the BDSM scene. He has been for a while and for as long as you’ve known him, you’ve always been interested in what he does. From his stories, they sound exciting and riveting; exactly the kind of thing you want to try out to make your sexual life a little more lively.

“I know that,” you whine. “If not that, then I don’t really know where to begin.”

“Well, we all start somewhere,” he says with a hint of optimism. “Since you’re interested still, there’s a BDSM convention at the end of this week. If you want to get your foot in the door with it, I reckon you should go.”

“A convention?” You ask with intruigue. “What do they host there?”

“They’re there to promote safe BDSM to people and have a variety of pop up stores on site that sell anything related to it,” he answers. “I’m supposed to be going but, I’ve got something else on at the same time. In fact you can have my concession.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Yeah, it’s already printed off,” he says. “I’ll give it to you on Thursday.”

It was a good idea at first, but come the day of the event, your nerves were shot. It was your first time being surrounded by anything like this. Particularly by yourself. It was a bit stereotypical to assume that the convention was run something along the lines of seeing naked people tied up, some in cages, or live scenes taking place in front of crowds.

That wasn’t the case at all. It was almost like a niche grocery store where the locals gather to buy homegrown fruit and veggies. Some part of that concept helped calm a few nerves.

Once you receive your concession band, you start around the front area of the pop-up stores. People were lining up to see demonstrations of shibari methods and most were interested in buying a series of items for the bedroom.

They were all displayed like sea creatures at a fish market, waiting to be bought. From cattail butt plugs, clover nipple clamps, juicy erotica novels - one of which you picked up - lengths of different coloured ropes, wooden floggers, riding crops, and so much more.

Away from all the chaos at the stalls was an area called BDSMC; BDSM and coffee. It was a way to set people up with potential doms and or subs. Each individual looking for a buddy would order a coffee or drink with a green cup that had either letter on it; D for dom or S for sub. Red cups were exclusively 'do not approach' because the person either didn’t want to engage or they may already have a partner and are just there for some good coffee.

It was an awesome set-up and had you thinking about heading over to maybe find someone who would be interested. However, you stored away that thought as you continued to have a look around.

One thing that was painfully obvious to you was the fact that people weren’t there by themselves. They were either there with a group or their partner, making you feel even more out of place and slightly overwhelmed. But you weren’t going to tap out early. Minho gave you his ticket not only because he couldn’t attend, but also because he wants you to experience what you’re looking for, for yourself.

So you scour out the stores under the guise of your own interest, coming across a few which struck that interest. There was one store tailored specifically to pain play, a heavy aspect of BDSM. Another stall had all to do with sexual health, consent and BDSM - not necessarily selling anything, but just there to answer any questions that people may have.

One place had caught you attention, a store all to do with sensory play and deprivation - a term in which you’ve came across within the realm of research into BDSM.

In nicely orgasnised lines were individual packets of silk blindfolds in a variety of different colours. There were boxes of body safe candles, most likely for temperature play, noise cancelling headphones, sleek metal handcuffs, and other items that had you wondering how they work.

“Hello, anything I can help you with or just browsing today?” One of the shop owners approaches you from behind the table.

“Oh, just browsing thank you,” you reply back to her.

“No worries, let me know if you need anything,” she smiles back at you and walks down to the other end of the long table.

“Hello, do you have any of these in black?” A person beside you asks to another store keeper.

Out of sheer interest, you briefly look up at the person just as an unspoken social acknowledgement while the owner tends to their new customer. But to your absolute shock and surprise, the person enquiring happened to be someone very familiar.

The jet black hair, distinct glasses, the trendy casual outfit...

…there was no way.

“We should do. I’ll have a look around in some of our storage containers just behind the back for you,” she says helpfully.

“Thank you,” the customer responds.

It was definitely him, and whilst your eyes had been glued to his presence for such a long time, his gaze catches onto it.

“Hey,” he spoke in a mousey volume.

You stall in your step a bit just as you were about to walk away to remain unknown, but the angelic purity in the tone of his voice lulled you back. You’d feel bad if you didn’t greet him too.

“Hey,” you say to him awkwardly. “How are you?”

“I’m good thank you, yourself?” He asks back.

“Yeah, good thanks. I know you, sort of. Aren’t you in my class?”

It was a useless question to ask considering you’ve spent too many times looking at him to know that it’s definitely him. That distinct soft expression couldn’t pass you by. The only thing different is that he wasn't swarmed by his usual collective of friends.

A small smile spreads on his face, “yeah. I’ve seen you here and there. You usually sit close to the front.”

“That’s right,” you nod, bewildered that he knows who you are and where you sit during class. “So…what brings you…here of all places?”

Jeongin shrugs with a smile, “interest. You?”

You nod, “also interest.”

The lady pops back from behind the screen with some items, “you might be out of luck. We’ve only got grey and white left but there’s a couples' one for you and your partner here.”

Your mind stutters upon hearing those words come out of the lady’s mouth, “oh he’s not - we’re not-“

“What about any more of these? Preferably in black as well?” Jeongin picks up a baby pink coloured blindfold and presents it to the woman. He seemed to have saved that awkward statement yet wasn’t entirely effected by it as you were.

“I’ll have a look around the back again and see if we’ve got anything,” she says, quickly rushing off.

“Sorry about that,” he says apologetically to her.

He was as nice as he looked. Almost like a gentle, placid puppy which makes you wonder, how is someone like him at one of these conventions. Specifically, someone who is quite religious. You didn’t want to judge right away, but that was the preface of your observation.

“I take it you’ve never been to one of these before,” he points out as he waits.

Your shoulders relax defeatedly, someone had finally ripped down your facade, “can you tell?”

“Just a little bit,” he grins. “But props to you for coming here on your own by the looks of it.”

“A friend of mine recommended I go so I thought I should,” you respond, eyeing up some of the other products.

He nods engagingly, “really? Why did they recommend it to you if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Just…looking to get into BDSM,” you reply honestly, feeling comfortable enough to talk to him about this. Plus there was no point in hiding your intentions given where you are now. “He said I should go to one of these events, check out the stores, and see how some of this stuff works I suppose.”

The lady returns from the back with exactly what he requested while also picking up a few extra things before paying for the lot. Your attention fixates on those items, wondering who he uses them on; a pyrex glass dildo, one tube of strawberries and cream flavoured lube, and also a ball gag

Whoever his partner is must be lucky.

The shopkeeper bags all of the items he paid for in a discrete bag before he thanks her.

“That's a good step, but if you’re a beginner, it’d be best for you to start out small,” he advises just an idea suddenly strikes him. He wonders for a second about whether or not it’s appropriate to ask, but he considers your circumstances and why you’re even here.

“I figured that. No point in me diving right into the deep end when I can’t swim yet,” you agree.

“You know, because we’re both here, we should get together sometime so we can talk about these kinds of things. I could show you how all of these work too if you want,” he pitches his suggestion to you, holding up the bag of things that he just purchased.

You stare up at him, utterly bewildered, “wait, are you serious?”

“Only if you are, otherwise-“

“No!” You cut him off. “I mean, yes - yes I am serious. It’s just, I was shocked that you even asked me.”

He stifles a chuckle as a reaction to you being so oddly yet unforceably cute, “alright then. I’ll give you my number. I’m Jeongin by the way.”

“Jeongin, okay. I’m Y/N.”

It was nice to finally put a name to a handsome face. Jeongin, who was as unsuspecting as the come, had exchanged numbers with you before you both departed. He left you wondering so much more about his personality and particularly his interests with BDSM. It even made you forget to text Minho to tell him how well the convention went.

Right before you decided that you were going to ring him, a text came through to you from Jeongin.

To you from Jeongin: ‘Hey Y/N, it’s Jeongin. It was nice meeting you the other day. I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over coffee to talk and get to know each other more. If so, when are you free?’

You to Jeongin: ‘Hey Jeongin, it was nice meeting you as well. I’m free in the afternoons throughout the week. We could go for coffee on campus after class if it’s not too far?’

Jeongin to You: ‘Nope, that’s perfect. Shall we say Monday straight after? We can head there together.’

You to Jeongin: ‘Sounds good to me. See you then.’

Jeongin to You: ‘Yup! :)’

With those responses from him in mind, it made looking forward to Monday a little more palatable. Usually, it’s hectic with quizzes, tonnes of readings, and a boring two hour lecture. Meeting up with Jeongin meant you had something to look forward to after class.

Just as the lecture comes to an end, you look back to the middle row of seats in the centre section of the room as you pack up your things and see Jeongin waving out to you. You wave back, acknowledging that you’ve seen him and watch him say bye to his friends before he makes his way down to you. A couple of them seemed rather puzzled that he was leaving them, but nonetheless, they let him be.

“Hey Y/N,” he says to you, walking down the steps. “What did you think of that?”

“Boring as per,” you groan. “It made me want to sleep.”

Jeongin laughed, “shall we go before you fall asleep then?”

The pair of you exited the theatre together and headed to one of the nearby cafes on campus. Normally teeming with hungry students, the venue wasn’t as packed as it usually is from the help of classes that run through into lunch. It meant that you and Jeongin were able to receive your drinks relatively quickly in order to sit down and start talking.

“How was your weekend?” He asks you.

You finish bringing your drink down from your lips, “not as exciting as I wished it had been. Mainly just catching up on some of the online work that we were meant to do.”

Jeongin is shaking his head but silently agreeing with you, “I don’t know why they bother giving us tasks to do online.”

“I suppose to make us suffer even more,” you guess.

“I think you might be right, and since it’s worth credit, we have no choice,” he snickers. “But anyway, on a completely different note, what did you think of your first BDSM event?”

“Not as daunting as I was expecting it to be,” you answer honestly. “It was pretty pleasant, to say the least, and the people I met were really nice.”

“That’s good to know,” Jeongin nods. “Usually I hear of beginners who get too overwhelmed and never come back. It’s a shame really because they only see the tip of the iceberg.”

“Do you normally attend those events?” You ask him, still immensely intrigued that he even went in the first place.

“Only when I can,” he responds. “Most of the time, classes and other stuff get in the way, but I’ve found a balance now. What made you want to get into BDSM anyway?”

“A friend of mine is well into that space and I always hear him talking about it. Since then it’s always interested me, so I started doing some research about it,” you answer. “It was the same person who told me to go to that event.”

“Smart choice for doing your research, not many people do and just head straight into something they don’t know,” Jeongin mentally applauds you. “It can turn out to be a really good or really terrible experience for beginners.”

“Yeah, he warned me about that,” you chuckle, just thinking of Minho and what he’s said to you in the past. “What about you? How did you get into BDSM? Sounds like you’re already in that space.”

“I am. I’ve been in it for four years, since the start of my degree,” Jeongin confirms adjusting his black glasses. “I got into it just by interest as well - similar to you, except, I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing someone who was already part of this space so some things I had to learn the hard way.”

“Then I take it that you’re relatively experienced then,” you respond, inferring an assumption already.

Jeongin smiles shyly, almost like he’s somewhat embarrassed by your comment, “you could say that. Is it right to assume that you’re looking for someone to do scenes with?”

You give a nod, “yes. Just…didn’t know who with.”

“That fits then; given that I have some experience and you haven’t yet, then maybe we do a trial, see if we click, those sorts of aspects. What do you think about that?” He asks you.

An excitement thumps against your chest, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” He replies with optimism. “Then if it’s okay with you, do you maybe want to talk about some of your kinks and things that you don’t like and organise a time and place for our first scene?”

“I’d love to.”

Both you and Jeongin brought a lot of ideas to the table, conducting a healthy discussion about what you’re both into and not. Although he openly stated to you that he mainly presents himself as a dom, he was open to switching too. However, for the purpose of getting you into the swing of BDSM, it would be best for him to take the reins.

So with a little more talking, you both came up with a set date and time for the first scene which was to be at Jeongin’s place; not too far from campus. All the information and the logistics leading up to the scene were slightly nerve-wracking but didn’t match your level of excitement.

Considering your inexperience with BDSM, Jeongin had to factor in what would be the best method of easing you into things. Sensory play was the one thing that came to mind. It’s not too extreme, can involve some restraints, and can act as a good stepping stone for a BDSM beginner.

“It’s a good way to start off,” Jeongin said to you back at the cafe. “If it’s just sensory play only, people don’t usually climax from it. But if there’s some sort of sexual penetration that’s involved, then most likely. I don’t do the latter.”

“Still sounds like fun,” you replied.

“It is. I can deprive you of one or more of your senses which will only enhance the other.”

His way of describing the basics of sensory play could’ve easily put you to sleep – not because it was boring, but because his voice was so silky smooth that you could listen to it all day. The fact that he has so much knowledge about a subject was strangely erotic.

With your mind cleared in preparation for the scene, Jeongin flicks you a text an hour beforehand to see if you are still keen. He definitely knows that you are, but it’s also to cover his end as a dom to ensure that you know that you can pull out of the scene before it starts.

To You from Jeongin: Hey Y/N, still on for tonight?

From you to Jeongin: ‘Hey! Absolutely, I’ll text you when I’m at yours?’

To You from Jeongin: ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

Even if you didn’t want to go through with it tonight, Jeongin would be okay with that. For whatever reason why you would say no, he’s happy that you would feel safe to refuse. But never in your wildest dreams would you ever think of refusing, because as soon as it was time to leave, there was no doubt in your mind that you would turn back.

You had showered and packed a bag with a towel, extra clothes in case, a water bottle, and some snacks. If anyone were to come up to you and look into your duffle, their only thought would be that you’re heading to a gym nearby, not heading to your first BDSM scene. It was a nice little secret to have.

As you arrive on the street of Jeongin’s apartment, you text him to say that you’re nearly there and knock on the door once you’ve officially made it.

“Hey,” he greets with his smiley usual self. “Come in.”

“Hey,” you respond, looking around as you step in.

It was rather spacious which is usually not generous with student accommodation. Normally it’s one room cramped with a desk, chair, inadequate storage underneath the single bed and a community bathroom down the hall. By the looks of it, Jeongin had all this space to himself including a small bathroom and mini kitchenette area.

“Wow, you got lucky with student housing around here.”

“Can’t stress the word ‘lucky’ enough,” Jeongin emphasises, closing the door behind you as you take your shoes off. “Took me about four months last year just to apply for a viewing. But after living in shared accommodation on campus, I needed my own space.”

“Fair enough,” you say. “Some student spaces are lucky enough to have wallpaper. But anyway.”

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” He offers. “I bought food earlier on.”

“No it’s okay thank you, I made sure to have some water and food before the scene,” you politely refuse.

“Okay, good,” Jeongin nods, impressed even. Those who forget to eat before a scene will often find that their energy depletes faster, rendering them unable to continue or even worse, it could go hand in hand with a sub drop. “Then in that case, shall we get started?”

Your stomach flips excitedly, “sounds good to me.”

Jeongin does the honours of leading you to his bedroom. It’s adorned with a minimalistic aesthetic and beautiful muted tones. There’s a decent queen-sized bed centred back against the wall. Laid on top of its surface is a black cardboard box and a set of black restraints right beside it in contrast with the white fitted duvet. Flickering on the bedside table burned a red candle.

From what you could gather, it was most likely for wax play, but it smelt amazing. Almost a woody with a tinge of floral essence to it that filled his room.

“We can start the scene by taking your clothes off and I’ll get these restraints ready, okay?” Jeongin suggests to you.

“Okay.”

He steps over towards the mattress, picking up the long restraints. Only two – one for each of your wrists that he was going to link to the bedposts. He secures the ends of them in place while you strip yourself down to your bra and underwear. You fold them over your arms as Jeongin returns to carefully take them from you and places them on his chair in the corner of the room.

He comes back once he’s done, eyeing up your body. It’s not that he meant to gawk or observe you per se, but he was in fact silently appreciating your body. He could only just hide the fact that he’s very taken with how you look and the way you pull off a simple black bra and underwear set.

It wasn’t lingerie, but they were intricated pieces. Jeongin seems to be aware of that when you feel him delicately glide his fingertips down the straps of your bra from behind while you stare into his mirror on the wall.

“This is is pretty,” he says.

You swallow quietly, content with his observation, “yeah?”

“Yes, but unfortunately I need it off for this scene. Is that okay with you?” He asks.

“That’s okay,” you reply clearly.

“Okay then, what’s your colour?”

“Green.”

With your given consent in mind, Jeongin works behind your back to unclasp your bra and places it with the rest of your clothes. It’s not an awkward moment for either of you given that it was nothing in comparison to the things he had planned for you.

“Beautiful,” he comments, his eyes lingering for a few seconds too long in the mirror. Your cheeks instantly become hotter, hoping Jeongin can just hurry up and put the blindfold over your eyes so you don’t have to look at him. “Let’s move to the bed. I’ll get you to lie down so I can put the restraints on your wrists.”

On his instruction, you make your way over to his bed after he moves the black box to the nightstand. You sit down on the mattress edge and prop your legs up until you’re able to lie down flat with your head on his pillow.

Jeongin slightly manoeuvres each of your arms before strapping your wrists into the restraints and for a couple of seconds there, you’re in your own mind. It still baffles you that you struck gold with Jeongin by absolute chance. Not to mention he’s the same person who attends church and goes to bible studies and is the same person who’s tying you to his bed.

“Not too tight?” He checks in with you.

“Nope, that’s fine,” you reply.

Jeongin takes the lid off of the box on the side and takes out the silk black blindfold he purchased from the convention the other day, “okay, I’m going to place the blindfold over your eyes now.”

You nod as total darkness shields you from the predictable. Now you can’t see what’s coming next. The excitement and anticipation hinder all nervousness you’ve been feeling while Jeongin takes a moment to appreciate the state that you’re in. It’s not often for him to be so taken with a person to the point where he just about forgets what he’s doing.

Only then does he realise that he’s in a scene and needs to refocus.

Once he’s content with everything, he decides to move on, “now we can start.”

He goes back to the box, careful not to make too much sound so that you can’t grasp a hint of what might be inside. The first item he picks up is a long, spindly black feather. It’s simple yet very effective, responsible for creating that ticklish sensation when he dances it lightly and softly along your skin. On its first contact, your nerves try to anticipate where Jeongin will take the feather next, but their guesses come up short when he uses it somewhere else.

The feather glides from the base of your throat, downwards and in between your tits. Jeongin then uses it to delicately lick over your nipple, making you keen slightly to one side. You can’t help but suppress a moan by biting down on your lip. It shouldn’t feel this good too early, but you can’t help your body’s natural reaction to the feather that leaves tingles in your muscles throughout its wake.

The smile on Jeongin’s face indicates that he’s enjoying watching you squirm and quietly whimper, still teasing you with the black plume. He drags it from the tips of your toes, up your shin, and right over your clothed pussy, making you press your head back into the pillow.

Jeongin makes a mental note of that reaction and smirks. To him, those small effects of what he’s doing to your body with only a feather, make him wonder how sensitive you really are. But it’s not his whole desire to spend too much time with it and proceeds to move on to something else; the hot wax.

After placing the previous item in the box, Jeongin swaps it for the candle. The catcher has collected a substantial amount of wax at the bottom which will allow him to pour the majority of it out before it starts to solidify. But Jeongin stalls for a moment as he tries to make up his mind on where to pour first.

In his opinion, he wants to cover all the sensitive parts that you’ll let him. Your tits, collarbone, throat, tummy, wherever. Eventually, however, he knows he’ll get to those places. So he starts with your tummy, watching the hot wax drip and dribble onto your skin, hardening as it makes contact.

A gasp is forced out of your mouth, “s-shit-“

“Too hot?” Jeongin asks you, pulling back the candle before he goes to pour again.

“N-No,” you shake your head fervently. “J-Just wasn’t expecting-"

Jeongin pours a steady line of wax in between your tits, prying your mouth open for slightly quiet yet strained moans to roll from the base of your throat.

He expects you to have some sort of reaction to the hot wax, but not like this. Usually, people try to escape from the head, some swear like sailors, and others might scream or yelp. You on the other hand…it makes him wonder if you’re a masochist with the way you’re moaning from the slight pain.

Nonetheless, he drips more wax, this time down your abdomen, forcing you to purse your lips to suppress any sound.

Despite the temperature of the thick content, your brain, for whatever reason, deduces it as a good sensation rather than a bad one. It does burn a bit, but not to the point where you feel like you need to call for a break. That feeling when it settles into the skin where it’s magnificent and warm is too good to pass up, allowing you to keep going.

With the session barely in full swing, you’re trying to keep it together for Jeongin so that hopefully he’d invite you back for another. Yet, within the second you even start thinking about that, Jeongin pours some of the wax, just about the line of your underwear, making you tug hard on the restraints.

“Fuck – oh my god,” you groan, feeling the heat emulsify within your lower half. It spreads beautifully, just where you want it. “That feels…”

“Good?” Jeongin asks, making your back arch slightly when he drips more wax from your sternum to just above your belly button. There are some areas that he won’t cover with the wax since he wants enough sensitive space for the next part of the scene.

“Y-Yes.”

Since Jeongin has some verbal confirmation from you that the heat feels good, his indication of pinning you for being a masochist grows stronger. It’s not abnormal, but it’s rare. Not everyone is a fan of pain and some even find it confusing when it’s applied in the bedroom.

That’s not Jeongin though. He appreciates pain and pleasure in a controlled environment. In saying that, he cannot make a full observation of whether or not you’re a full-blown masochist. He’d need to actually ask you first and run other ‘tests’ to achieve a result.

In light of the pain, Jeongin makes use of the little wax he has left, steadily pouring it onto the underside of your tits – close to where you want it. When there’s no content left at the bottom of the catcher, he moves on once more. This time, to a completely opposite temperature.

He sets the candle back down on the nightstand, leaving it to continue burning so that the aroma fills the room rather than smoke if he were to blow it out. You then hear his footsteps shuffling around to the other side of the bed, making you wonder what it is that he’s doing. But despite tuning your ears into his every movement, Jeongin makes sure to be as careful as he can to ensure that you don’t know what’s coming next.

The one thing that you hadn’t noticed in his room the second you walked in was a mini tin bucket of ice cubes on the other side of his bed. He gave away zero hints towards his next move, so when he quietly picked up one of the cubes and immediately placed it just above your tits, you suck in a huge gasp.

“Geez, I wasn’t ready,” you sigh out some of the anticipation that’s building inside of you.

Jeongin smiles, “good.”

The areas of your body that are free from the hardened wax allow him to glide the ice cube gently over your skin. The temperature in comparison to the wax is electrifying, more so than what you ever would have anticipated – had you known it was coming.

Jeongin watches the ice cubes melt from your body heat, seeing the droplets of water pool for a second and run down your sides. When the first cube has melted down completely, Jeongin picks up another. This time, he drags it slowly above the band of your underwear again.

“Mm! Fuck…” you exclaim loudly, trying to conduct the sensation when it only just builds. “S-Sorry.”

“You’re okay,” Jeongin reassures you.

He then brings the ice cube up to one of your nipples, causing you to arch your back and tug on the restraints simultaneously as a sharp gasp leaves your mouth. The corners of Jeongin’s mouth perk up at your reaction. He doesn’t want to be too predictable and switch to your other nipple. Instead, he manages to pick up another ice cube and uses it on your other nipple, dancing it around your sensitive buds that have begun to stiffen and perk up.

Your poor brain is confused by the stimulation. It’s not happening between your legs but you can feel it from your chest. It feels weird not to be contracting around anything, which only makes you wish you were. Nonetheless, it’s still valid stimulation that you feel building and at first, you’re not sure if it’s an orgasm that’s forming or if it just feels good.

Regardless of the matter, you can’t help it. It’s patterning the pleasure for you to experience without you having any say in it whatsoever. Your mind is muddled with what to say – how to express how you feel or what’s happening to your body.

Jeongin has some idea of it now that he’s been listening to you panting and watching you writhe on his bed just from a couple of ice cubes. However, he wants to see how this plays out.

“J-Jeongin,” you mumble, sucking in small breaths of air. “I’m…”

His ears spring up at the sound of his name, but he refrains from saying anything at all. Instead, he picks up another ice cube, allowing the one in his left hand to melt away before applying the fresh one. The chilly sensation replenishes but it doesn’t stop that sensation that you can feel in your tits all the way through to your pussy. Even though it feels similar to an orgasm, it triggers zero verbal response when it decides to hit you out of nowhere.

Jeongin sees your mouth part, your legs bracketing together like they’re trying to find something to clamp around. All the while, he doesn’t stop stimulating your nipples with the cubes until your back is flat on his bed again. He had to see it through to the end.

Breathless and slightly dazed as you were, the first thing that came to mind was that you did in fact cum. Following that came anxiously wondering what Jeongin’s reaction was.

At that, an invisible weight of embarrassment starts tugging you down. You wanted the blindfold to remain over your eyes, terrified of meeting whatever expression was laden on Jeongin’s face. There was no point in trying to gauge how he reacted when you orgasmed, but there was one thing for sure and that was he didn’t stop you from doing it.

A few lingering moments later, Jeongin becomes satisfied with the tail end of the scene. He got through the aspects of sensory play that you both wanted to cover from the conversation you had at the beginning of the week.

He gently removes the silk blindfold from your eyes, fixing some of your hair in the process to get it out of your eyes. Even though your eyes shy away from his face, Jeongin can easily see the deep red burning through your cheeks.

“I’ll get these off for you,” Jeongin murmurs, already freeing one of your wrists from the restraint before moving on to the other.

Once you’re completely unrestricted, you sit up straight away and start blabbing out an explanation to him.

“Just so you know, I didn’t have other intentions going into this,” you speak quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting to…to-“

Slightly taken aback, Jeongin had to step in to reassure you that there’s nothing wrong, “Y/N, it’s okay, seriously. It’s not your fault that your body couldn’t help but do what it needed to. But you’ve just come out of a scene and I want to make sure that you’re ok-“

“Yes but, you said the other day that people don’t usually climax from sensory play only,” you interrupt him.

He softens a bit, a small grin forming on his face, “I said ‘usually’ not ‘never’. I didn’t rule out that possibility.”

You suddenly click onto his words, “so there is a possibility that they still can.”

“Yes, but you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about or sorry for. Some people can orgasm through nipple stimulation. It’s not always easy, but you managed to do it, with ice too, and relatively fast. Plus, I thought it was cute,” he responds.

‘Cute?’ If melting from embarrassment was a thing, you’d be a puddle all over his floor. Your face comes to fall into your hands, almost making him giggle.

Jeongin then continues, “now, if you’ll let me help you, I’ll show you to the shower to get some of the wax off. Then we can have some of that food I was talking about earlier.”

A/N: again, this was meant for Kinktober but my dumb ass didn’t upload it. I’m turning this into a bit of a slow burn series, but not just yet because I’m working on other things atm as listed down below:

1. Noxious Compulsions

Minsung x reader (you can find the snippet here)

2. Foul Play

Part 2 to Don’t bite the hand that feeds you

3. Venom Eater

Part 2 to Venom Biter

4. Some things are better left known

Part 2 to ‘Some things are better left unknown’

These are the main pieces that I’m working on at the moment bc they will be quite dense, and I try to add as much detail in as I can. However, there are 100% other things that I have still sitting in my Doc’s folder that I’ll release too!

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader

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trashpandato · 9 months

Text

Breakaway

“Lena, this could really be good for the company. Think of the good publicity for L-Corp, sponsoring the biggest women’s cycling race in the world.”

“Sam,” Lena huffs and presses her fingers against the bridge of her nose, “L-Corp isn’t in the business of sponsoring sports events.”

“Yet.”

“We’ve never done anything even remotely similar. Don’t you think it would look a little…desperate? Not to mention suspicious given the timing?”

Sam shifts a little in her seat. “Lena, —”

“Lex’s trial concluded less than six months ago. Any effort to get good press at this point is going to be suspicious. Especially something as blatantly outside of the scope of L-Corp’s usual activities as showing up at some bicycle event. This could actually do more harm than good.”

“You said yourself that you’re trying to move the company in a different direction. You could easily position this as giving back to the community, supporting causes that are, by design, the opposite of what LuthorCorp stood for.”

And Lena can’t really argue with that. She does want to do things differently, from re-naming the company to ending contracts with military suppliers to focussing primarily on research and development projects that would benefit previously underserved communities. But this is a step, or ten, outside of her comfort zone. She doesn’t want to be in the public eye more than she has to be, and she most definitely doesn’t want to be seen as taking advantage of a women’s sports event to bolster her company’s reputation.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to decide right now. Just, think about it. You’re sponsoring girls in STEM events all the time, and this could be along the same lines of supporting women in areas that are traditionally dominated by men.”

Lena sighs. As always, Sam makes a good point, and as always, she is exceptionally pushy about it.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Later that evening, after Lena has sent off the last few emails dealing with a contract issue with a new subsidiary company in Japan, she clicks out of her email application and pulls up her search engine. If she is supposed to think about sponsoring a cycling event, she wants to know exactly what she would be getting herself into.

Three scotches and a considerable amount of time later, Lena has learned that women’s cycling is woefully underfunded, under promoted and clearly suffers from blatant misogyny of those in charge. She listens to multiple interviews of riders complaining that their races are intentionally shorter than the men’s races because the sport’s regulating body apparently thinks women can’t handle the extra distance. Other than that, the sport seems entertaining enough, and from what Lena can tell, most races are currently dominated by select riders from two or three teams, a fact that speaks to uneven support for equipment and development of new talent across the sport.

While an interview with a sweaty and strikingly good looking blonde cyclist is playing in the background, Lena rubs her eyes and fires off a quick text to Sam.

LL: I’ve thought about it. Go ahead and set up the sponsorship for that race.

—

On race day, Lena regrets every decision she has ever made that has led her to this point. She gets up extra early that day to deal with a number of important issues at L-Corp, but the morning quickly gets away from her. At noon, she is already so behind schedule that she is tempted to text Sam to cancel her appearance at the race. It’s only the knowledge that her friend would never let her hear the end of it that keeps Lena from hiding in her office for the rest of the day. She leaves L-Corp with barely a minute to spare, knowing full well that she is going to have to work late that evening to make up for the time she is going to spend showing her face at the race.

By the time Lena gets there, the medal presentation is just about to start. A race volunteer quickly leads her to the side of the stage, just out of view of the crowds, where Lena spots Sam.

“There you are,” Sam says, handing her a bottle of water to combat the truly ludicrous heat that has built up under the temporary structure surrounding the stage and podium. “I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t show.”

“I told you I’d be here for this.”

“Yes, but you missed out on seeing the race action.”

“I'm a busy CEO of a multi-billion dollar international company. I don't have time to watch women in lycra pedal around the city for hours."

“Oh, but you did notice the lycra?”

“Sam,” Lena hisses as her attention drifts toward the woman stepping on the podium to accept the congratulations for the win. She grimaces when she sees Maxwell Lord and Morgan Edge hover near the cyclist, Edge shuffling closer and closer to the woman, sporting his usual sleazy smirk. He must say something offensive—not a big surprise, Lena thinks—because the woman accepting her medal suddenly stiffens and grimaces, clearly trying to remain polite and smile for the cameras while her body language conveys that she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Lena takes a few swift steps toward them.

“Edge. I see you’ve learned nothing from your recent sexual harassment lawsuit. Do you want me to call your probation officer now or later?”

“Lena,” Edge sneers but he steps away from the woman nonetheless. “What a surprise. I didn’t think this event would want to associate themselves with family members of domestic terrorists. Then again, cycling doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for being a clean sport, so I suppose it fits.”

Lena crosses her arms across her chest and raises a challenging eyebrow. “You realize there are mics everywhere, yes? And that you just insulted the sport you’re supposedly here to champion, and everyone could hear it?”

She watches as a couple of official looking men in suits approach and whisper something into Morgan Edge’s ear. With a huff, he turns and retreats behind the stage to the soundtrack of shocked murmurs from the audience gathered in front of the podium.

Lena almost forgets why she is here when she hears an amused voice next to her ear.

“Thanks for that. Not entirely necessary, but I appreciate it.”

Lena’s head snaps toward the voice and all of a sudden she is looking into the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. The woman, Kara Danvers according to the information the race officials had handed her when she arrived for the medal presentation, looks flushed and a little disheveled, but is smiling brightly at Lena.

“Not necessary? He was practically grabbing your butt.”

Kara shrugs. “Not the first time that’s happened during a podium presentation, and won’t be the last. It’s part of the job, unfortunately.”

“It’s part of your job to be groped by men like Edge?”

Another shrug. “At least I usually also get kisses from the podium girls, so it evens out?”

Lena frowns. “What?”

But before she can get more information, one of the race officials hands her a bouquet of flowers and motions for her to hand it to today’s race winner, congratulate her and move on. Lena obliges. She steps in front of the podium, shakes Kara’s hand and ignores the way her stomach swoops when Kara thanks her and winks, fucking winks. Who does that?

Lena briskly walks off the stage on the other side, where Sam is already waiting for her.

“You can never do things at a normal level of intensity, can you?”

“I told you I’ve never done anything like this before, so maybe don’t blame me for not knowing the proper etiquette here,” Lena snaps. “You could have warned me that Edge and his greasy buddy Lord would be here.”

“Relax,” Sam chuckles. “You did great. I thought we’d maybe get some decent headlines about L-Corp sponsoring the race, but now the media is going to have a field day with you taking on Morgan Edge in public and defending the reputation of women’s cycling.”

“I did no such thing. He spewed his vile nonsense all by himself.”

“He did, and you took him down a notch in front of one the sport’s biggest names. Who seemed pretty taken with you, by the way.”

“Right,” Lena scoffs. The heat behind the stage is unbearable and she can feel sweat trickling down her lower back, her shirt sticking to her skin uncomfortably under her suit jacket. “Are we done here? I need to get back to work.”

Sam looks like she’s about to say something, maybe to try and convince Lena to stay, but Lena is already five steps ahead of her, finding the most direct path to where her driver is waiting for her with her car. And maybe she’s walking faster than strictly necessary, desperate to get away from the cacophony of noises, people and media equipment surrounding the area, and maybe she should have paid closer attention to her surroundings because when she’s not even halfway to her car, she suddenly collides with a solid body. The force of it bumps her sideways and Lena half expects to fall, but then two warm hands hold her upright.

“Golly, I’m so sorry,” Lena hears and when she looks up, it’s the woman from the podium again.

Kara Danvers.

She’s still holding Lena up, and they’re standing close, so close that Lena can see faint salt lines on her skin from where her sweat had dried off after the efforts of the race.

Lena blinks, too stunned to say anything for a moment.

“Are you okay? I totally didn’t see you and I barrelled right into you. I’m really sorry.”

Lena clears her throat. “It’s fine. I should be the one apologizing. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You definitely looked like you’re in a hurry to get away,” Kara says, her voice teasing and light.

“I mean, I do have to get back to the office.”

“Of course. Time is money, and all that. Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy day for this, Ms Luthor.”

Lena is used to people commenting on her wealth and her business, and not always in friendly terms. She wears her professional demeanor and her last name like a shield; one that attracts a lot of unwanted attention, but a shield nonetheless. She doesn’t quite know why, but something about the woman in front of her makes her want things to be different.

“Please, just call me Lena.”

Lena can see the flash of surprise on the other woman’s face, but it is quickly replaced by another easy smile.

“Okay, Lena. I’m Kara.”

Lena nods. “Well, Kara, I should get going. Congratulations again on your win. Maybe I’ll see you around at some other races.”

“If you’re going to do the podium honors again, that’ll be more motivation for me to ride extra fast.”

Kara says this last bit with a laugh in her voice that makes Lena blush a little.

“Alright. You do that, but I really have to get back to work now. Bye, Kara.”

—

When Sam enters Lena’s office for a budget meeting a few days later, she finds Lena focused intensely on something on her laptop.

“Did you know that these so-called podium girls are almost all university graduates?”

Sam chuckles. “Are you looking for a side-gig?”

“What? No! I just mean, look at this woman, for example.” Lena turns her laptop toward Sam, the screen highlighting one of the blonde women usually tasked with handing over some stuffed animal to the race winner and giving them a kiss on the cheek. “This is Eve Tessmacher. She has two advanced degrees in biomedical science. She could easily work at L-Corp. Hell, she could probably even lead an entire department here, given her qualifications.”

“And?”

“And?! She spends her time following around the race circuit, smiling for the cameras in a dress that’s entirely too short to comfortably walk up the rickety stairs of those podium stages.”

Sam sits down opposite Lena at her desk and sighs.

“I see you put on your judgy pants this morning. What if they made a conscious decision to work at a women’s sports event? What if representing the race organization is important to them? And who knows, maybe traveling around the country and being a part of this is fun?”

“Fun?” Lena pulls up a few videos and turns the laptop back to Sam. “Does this look like fun to you?”

Together they watch a compilation of footage from various podium presentations. The common theme is the presence of handsy middle-aged men who seem to have made it their mission to make any woman involved with the race event uncomfortable, and the “podium girls” seem to be taking the brunt of it.

Sam winces as she watches one of the women trying to maneuver her body out of the grasp of a particularly persistent man.

“Okay, fine. That looks…unpleasant. But I assume their presence is part of tradition.”

“Mmh. Maybe it’s time to end this particular tradition.”

That gets Sam’s attention.

“And how exactly do you plan to do that? I thought you wanted nothing to do with sports?”

“You did tell me to sponsor this race. And right now, L-Corp is only one of many corporate partners, but we could easily become the headline sponsor for this race series, and then we could encourage some changes. Not to the racing itself, of course. But those ceremonial parts could do with less of the misogynistic bullshit.”

“Does this sudden interest in who gets to kiss the race winner have anything to do with a certain blonde cyclist?”

“What? No. You…why would you even say that?”

“Because I have eyes and I saw how she looked at you when you played the hero and saved her from Morgan Edge.”

“You’re delusional. I don’t, it’s not about that. It’s about making sure these women get highlighted for their actual talents, not just to be eye candy for men with a bottomless Viagra prescription.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “I see what you’re doing. But if you want to explore what it would take for L-Corp to become the main sponsor, leave it with me.”

It takes a few weeks of meetings and contract negotiations, but in the end, Lena gets exactly what she wants. The L-Corp logo is prominently displayed on banners, posters and race leader jerseys. The media has run a few mostly positive stories about Lena’s newfound interest in women’s cycling, complete with a few soundbites from prominent cyclists who seem pleased with seeing some extra funding and attention for their sport.

During a break in the race calendar, Lena asks her assistant to set up a few meetings with the women working for the race organization. With Sam’s words about being too judgy still echoing in her mind, she wants to get a feel for how much of their job is simply about carrying over traditions from the men’s races and how much wiggle room there is for making changes.

In the first three meetings, the women Lena speaks with are polite and careful. Lena doesn’t get much of an answer to her questions, but she does get the distinct impression that the women would welcome a different approach to some of their duties but are too afraid to rock the boat. It’s only when she meets with Eve Tessmacher that she gets a pretty blunt assessment of the current state of affairs.

“So, Miss Tessmacher, what would you say you enjoy most about your role?”

“Oh, you know, we do get to travel around a lot and it’s nice to see different parts of the country. The quirky small towns are the best, usually, even if the accommodations can be challenging there.”

Lena nods. “And if you could change anything about your tasks with the race, what would that be?”

Eve cocks her head to the side a little and hesitates. Lena can sense that all she needs is one more firm nudge.

“I want you to be honest with me, Miss Tessmacher. If there is anything I can do to change your work environment for the better, I will do that. This is important to me. And I promise I won’t tell anyone what you share here.”

Eve blinks a few times but then nods.

“Truthfully, we would all like to see more respect. I mean, you saw what happened when Morgan Edge was at the medal presentation last month. That’s a constant occurrence. I understand that we need to invite local dignitaries when we pretty much hijack their town for a few days. It’s photo op stuff for them, we all get that. But that could be done in a much more respectful way.”

Lena nods and motions for Eve to continue.

“The outfits are a little much. I always feel like a flight attendant from the 1960s. It would be nice to have some leeway there.”

Lena nods again and jots down a few thoughts on a notepad.

“What’s your long-term goal?” she asks. “Career-wise, where do you want to be in five years?”

At that, Eve lets out a small giggle.

“Is this a job interview?”

Lena looks up from her notepad and raises an eyebrow. “Well, I do know that you have the education to work in R&D here at L-Corp, so if you want this to be an interview, I can make that happen.”

There’s a shocked expression on Eve’s face that is enough to make Lena backtrack slightly.

“Or we can set up an interview for you another time. To give you more time to prepare.”

“Really?” Eve asks, her voice pitched higher than before.

“Absolutely. When you leave here, talk to my assistant, Jess, to set something up.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Luthor. I have to admit, this is not what I was expecting when you called me in for a meeting today.”

“I’m trying to change things for the better, Miss Tessmacher. Both here at L-Corp and at the races, though my influence is a bit more limited there. But I do see that the women representing the race organization are generally overqualified for the task and I’d be more than happy to facilitate a move to other opportunities for those who want that.”

Eve nods but lets Lena continue: “I also want to change things for those who want to stay with the race. Make it more comfortable. No more handsy old men. Better pay. A safer work environment. I really appreciate your candor. You’ve given me exactly what I need to get started.”

From there, Lena gets to work. Her legal department helps draft language that makes it clear to anyone who is part of the podium celebrations that any inappropriate behaviour will result in immediate legal action. She re-assigns two of the podium girls to observe and enforce the new rules if necessary. Several others, including Eve Tessmacher, line up interviews for part-time positions at L-Corp that still allow them to participate in race events if they so choose, and she removes most of the existing stipulations around work attire. Finally, Lena highlights that in order to set clear boundaries, no one should be touching or kissing the winning racers beyond a congratulatory handshake.

It takes a few weeks for all the changes to be implemented, but the impact is immediate. The race series makes waves not just in the sports media, but bigger outlets start featuring the changes and run headlines like “L-Corp race series moves away from outdated traditions” and “Is women’s cycling finally stepping out of the shadows of men’s racing?”

Lena thinks the coverage is a little overblown but it’s still nice to see articles about L-Corp that don’t even reference her brother at all.

Over dinner one evening with Sam, she takes a sip of her wine and sighs.

“You know I don’t admit this very often, but you were right.”

“About?” Sam probes with a smirk on her face.

“You know what I’m talking about. The race sponsorship. The media coverage for L-Corp has been great, stocks are up, the board is pleased with it all. Thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“You’re welcome. But also, I really only said you should do a small sponsorship. You turned that into practically taking over the race series in order to impress Kara Danvers.”

“I did no such thing,” Lena huffs.

Sam simply smiles and clinks her glass against Lena’s. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night. But you really should ask her out at some point.”

Thankfully, their waiter interrupts the conversation then, and Sam sticks to talking about Ruby and their weekend plans for the rest of their dinner.

—-

It’s a few weeks later when Lena finds herself back on stage next to Kara Danvers, handing her another bouquet of flowers and a medal for sprinting to an impressive win at a race around National City’s harbourfront. It’s a bit of deja vu, but Lena is happy to see that the overall atmosphere on stage is that of respect and professionalism for all involved.

When she hovers near the edge of the stage after the ceremony is over, Kara walks over to her with determined steps.

“I hear that it’s you we have to thank for the much more relaxed vibes at the medal presentations now?”

“All I did was establish compliance with current labour laws. I don’t want L-Corp to get pulled into a lawsuit over one of these groping incidents.”

Kara nods. “Ah. Well, even if you only did it to protect your company, I appreciate it. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“I do miss getting a kiss on the cheek for winning, though.”

And maybe it’s the glass of champagne Lena had while she was waiting for the medal presentation to start, or maybe it’s the heat or a combination of both, but suddenly she has no control over the words that tumble out of her mouth.

“I can provide the kiss if you’re amenable to that.”

The laugh that bubbles out of Kara’s chest is loud and bright when she says: "You know, if you wanted to be the one to kiss me exclusively, you could have just asked me out on a date. No need to go to all that extra trouble of making changes to the races."

Lena blushes. “Okay. This is me asking.”

There’s a moment where Kara only blinks, and it’s obvious to Lena that for all her teasing and bravado, she clearly didn’t expect Lena to play along. She’s about to backpedal when Kara stands up a little taller, smiles and holds out her hand.

“Then let’s go. Let me show you how many carbs I need to eat to fuel top performances. And if you’re into it, I might even show you my tan lines later.” And then she winks. Again.

All Lena can do is laugh and loop her arm through Kara’s. “Alright. Show me.”

#Happy Tour De France Femmes to all who are celebrating #Supercorp #cycling AU #kara x lena #sam arias

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madame-fear · 2 months

Text

꒰ 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎 | 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒. ꒱

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : just some headcanons for how it would be like to date him.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : headcanons, established relationship, fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Francisco Romero x (fem!)Reader

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` tagging my sweet girl @luceracastro.ᐟ

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Hugs from behind, lots of them! No matter where, when, or what you’re doing — you’ll always feel his arms being tightly wrapped around your body, and his lips placing soft kisses on your shoulder and neck.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 You’ll be pampered with lots of gifts. I think Fran would be very attentive with the things you like, or mention that you’ll like — immediatly gifting those things to you. Plushies? Jewellery? Flowers? Stickers? Accessories? Whatever you mention you like, or stare at for too long, you’ll immediatly be surprised with it the following day.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 You getting lost on his pretty bright green eyes, and him getting lost on yours. Always. And expect him to constantly compliment you for how lovely your stare is.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 If you’d prefer to keep your privacy, he’ll respect it — but occasionally, with your consent, expect Fran to post some pictures of you on his Instagram stories just to show you off a bit. Sweet boy loves you too much to not show how proud he is to have you.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 “bonita”, “hermosa”, “linda”, “preciosa”, “mi amor”, “cielo”, “gordis” — he’s always giving you new endearing nicknames, and you really can’t complain much about it because it’s literally adorable.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 cuddles, cuddles, & more cuddles. Often you’re the little spoon because he likes hugging you from behind and nuzzling the tip of his nose on your neck (or kissing it), but he doesn’t mind occasionally switching places and being the little spoon.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 99% of Fran’s camera roll on his phone are just pictures of you, or the two of you doing weird cute shit together. Does he have you as his background wallpaper on his phone, because he always loves admiring you even when he’s far away? Maybe he does. . .

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Having you sitting on his lap is his favourite thing ever. It doesn’t matter if you both are watching something together, or mindlessly scrolling social media — he’d prefer to have you sitting on top of him all the time.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Please play with his dark blonde hair, I have the feeling he’d like feeling your fingers messing with his hair gently. It would make him feel soothingly comforted.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Expect him to be a bit clingy. Always dedicating you love songs and poems, and showering you constantly with his affection just to let you know how much he genuinely adores you. And don’t be surprised if the boys from the LSDLN cast tease him all the time for always talking about you, or for managing to bring you up at any possible topic.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 And speaking of being clingy, physical touch is something you’d experience all the time in your relationship. For example, he adores cuddling & hugging you, holding your hands and kissing them lovingly, pressing his forehead against your own, always kissing every inch of your body. A lovebug.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Wherever Fran goes, you go; and viceversa. He needs to go to a premiere/event to promote a movie? He’s taking you with him, if he can. I don’t think he’d like the idea of being far away from you too much time.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Placing his head on either your shoulder, lap, or chest happens very often, maybe just to seek comfort on you. I think his most favourite spot out of those would be your chest, while your fingers play with his hair. (*wink wink. i’m not further elaborating for now.*)

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Coffee shop dates are his favourite type of dates to have with you! Because why not?!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Have I mentioned just how much he loves to give & receive kisses? You’d constantly be embraced by him, as his lips kiss every single inch of your face because that’s how much Fran loves you. And in return, this sweet man will let you kiss him as much as you wish — he wouldn’t even complain, he loves being showered in affection by you.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Try to (playfully) squirm away from his tight hugs and he’ll only make it worse. You are totally never getting out of that breathtaking hug.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Does he stupidly stare at you and smiles to himself, like an idiot in love? Yeah, that, too.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Sometimes, you appreciate doing simple things together. Like laying on the bed or couch and listening to a playlist you both made, while quietly talking about whatever thing you’re thinking about. It’s a sweet thing for both of you.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 24/7 checking up on you and making sure you’re taken care of. Always running baths for you if you feel stressed, cooking for you, asking you if you slept well, ate and drank enough water — things like that, because he cares for your wellbeing.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 ^^ and if you’re on your period, it would be usual for him to be even more attentive with you than he already is. Buying/cooking whatever you crave, tightly cuddle and praise you (or give you some space if you need), running warm baths, etc.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 For some reason, I like imagining that if you sleep hugged to a plushie, while you’re sleeping, he’ll take the plushie away from you, toss it, and place himself on your arms instead. Stupid little thought, but I find it cute.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 This man just loves you more than anything else, really — he literally adores every bit of you, and won’t doubt a second in showing it.

#francisco romero x reader #fran romero x reader #francisco romero fluff #francisco romero fanfic #lsdln cast #lsdln cast members #fran romero fluff #fran romero fic #francisco romero #fran romero

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tinydeskwriter · 1 year

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Buzzfeed:The 10 Times Harry Styles and Y/n Y/l/n Made Us Believe in Love

A/n: I have been working in this for some time, I was pretty much inspired by my Jack Harlow piece, someone send a ask about doing one for Harry, and it’s just fluff💗 all the pictures are just illustrative, there is no face-claim, nothing, it’s just o ‘illustrate’ the article (?)

The 10 Times Harry Styles and Y/n Y/l/n Made Us Believe in Love

10. They Have Known Each Other for Years Before They (Finally) Started to Date

When it comes to famous couple we hardly ever know how they met, but not with this hot couple. It was Stevie Nicks who first spilled the beans:superstar Harry Styles and nepotism babe Y/n Y/l/n met back in May 2015 at the backstage of a Fleetwood Mac concert in London, while attending with mutual friends and Mr.Styles took her out for a bite afterwards. According to rumours Styles and Miss Y/n were seen out and about around London during the month of May and she was photographed in a One Direct concert in Wales, and then Harry reportedly dated a string of Victoria Secret models and Camilla Rowe…

Asked about it in a interview with Vanity Fair, Y/l/n said:”I was very young back then, just seventeen, still a little green and naive in this whole ‘love game’, we liked each other very much, but at that time we would have just… crashed and burned. Feelings were hurt, but it’s safe to say we’ve kept special places for each other in our hearts, and when we met again at Shangri-La we just fitted together…”

A Bonus: While promoting her new movie with Julia Roberts, Y/n Y/l/n was asked by James Corden about the rumor that her famous mom ‘just loves to public embarrasses her’, to which Y/n gave us a funny story: ‘So, as a teen I just loved Harry Styles, you know: the hair, the eyes, the dimples… I was like: we are soulmates, we are destined for each other. I had a framed poster of him in my bedroom. So… we are traveling from London to LA, my mom had just finished a movie, we are at the airport, and a few foot away, handsome as ever is Harry Styles, and his whole boyband… my mom recognized him from my posters and basically all my gadgets background, and she goes: excuse me… hi, Harry, my name is Y/m/n Y/l/n, my daughter just loves you… and she wouldn’t stop… let’s just say I spent a long time hiding in the ladies restroom’ Y/l/n added: ‘Harry actually finds the story funny and always tells all of our friends’.

There it goes: Y/n Y/l/n is jus like every other teenage with a Harry Styles crush.

9. They Rekindled Their Romance at the 2019 Met Gala

Harry co-chaired the event. Y/n made her solo debut—this is her third year attending the gala, but the first time without either her famous parents—, she attended as a guest of Gucci, dressed in a green-glittered-feathered gown custom designed for her by Alessandro Michele. The twenty four years old singer and the twenty years old actress were pictured in he pink carpet and, I mean, just the way they looked at each other screams volumes.

We may not know what happened inside the gala, but we can have a idea by the after party picture, and let’s just say:you can manage to see a photo of either of them where the other isn’t by their side or the background.

Dating rumors started after pictures were published of Harry and Y/n leaving the after-after party in the same car with Styles gentlemanly carrying Y/l/n red gown’s train.

The same month ‘sources close to the couple’ reported that Harry and Y/n actually met months in advance to the gala ‘Y/n was working with Mark Ronson at Shangri-La in Malibu, her and H stared as friends, just going out and spending time together, things changed in Italy in early 2019 when they decided to go together for fittings with Alessandro’.

When questioned about the young couple went with the standard: We’re just friends.

8. Their Romance is Packed With PDA

Though they keep their ‘Just Friends’ answers, the couple haven’t shied away from some good old Public Displays of Affection. And this says something when we’re talking about Harry Styles.

And they’re cutie.

7. We Got a Glimpse of Their Romance in August 2019 When Photos of Y/n Got Shared in The Internet

O-kay, it’s totally not okay for someone close to you—someone you clearly trust— to leak private pictures of your private instagram to the world. Y/n private IG account went from 167 followers o 165 after pictures the actress posted on her profile were printed and leaked.

That being said… We can’t deny Y/n and Harry are a cute and romantic couple:

I mean: she even uses his picture as a book-marker, this is pure fluff

6. Fans Noted This Little Detail in Paps Photos

The couple has a matching tattoo, and we’re dying. Nothing screams ‘Love’ like a matching tattoo.

5. That Lego Bouquet

Y/n was there for her man during SNL, as Harry was both host and musical guest. And she got him a bouquet… of Legos.

Sources said ‘Y/n has been here with Styles all week, Harry, surprisingly is a very shy guy, so she was always keeping him calm and relaxed, helping him with his anxiety, and just being a helping hand, they keep in their own bubble but are very approachable’.

4. December Was a Emotional Month For Harry and Y/n ‘s Fans

Little Women was released and our girl slayed as Jo March in Greta Gerwig’s adaptation. During promotion Y/l/n was paired with Pugh and Chalamet, and those tree were the trio of BFF’s we needed. Y/l/n and Chalamet chemistry—this is their second movie together— generated a few rumors of troubles in paradise.

But it was all just rumors, as Y/n was photographed at Styles one-night-only show at The Forum in Los Angeles,

She was once again by his side in London.

The bomb that broke millions of hearts came in 28 December.

In a joined statement was released by Styles and Y/l/n teams… After Academy Award winner filmmaker and producer, Y/f/n Y/l/n, communicated to the world in his official website that his wife and him ‘are happy to announce the marriage of their youngest daughter to Mr. Harry E. Styles’ all very formal like Y/f/n usually is.

The couple got married in 18 December at Hampstead Town Hall in London, both their families were in attendance. The couple asked for respect of their privacy, and announced that they would continue to live bi-continental.

3. Harry Styles Music Videos and… Surprises.

We hoped, but we weren’t sure, that we would see Y/n in Styles Music Videos, I mean, isn’t a rule somewhere that if you got a gorgeous, Academy nominated actress for a WIFE, you must put her in your MV’s? No?

Harry didn’t disappoint us. The singer and his wife frolicking by the beach, feeding each other fruits is a state of mind.

It also marks the debut of Y/n in Styles public feed.

Styles was praised by models in his video for asking for consent to touch them while filming, it was also said that the couple is very much in love and still in their honeymoon phase, just enjoying being together with one saying ‘when they looked at each other, you sometimes felt like you’re invading a private moment, Harry wouldn’t stop gushing over Y/n and how she inspired his more soft romanic songs’ and ‘they are just so nice to everyone’.

The surprise came months later during the release of ‘Golden’. The song is said to be about Y/l/n, with fans nothing that the actress and our favorite nepo babe has ‘you’re so golden’ tattooed in her ribs since 2017.

The video was filmed in the Amalfi Coast, with Styles running and driving around, Y/l/n doesn’t show up until the end, looking very gorgeous in white… and sporting a small baby bump. Yep, the couple probably had the best pregnancy announcement of 2020.

2. Harry Styles Being a Supportive Husband

2021 was a great year for Y/n Y/l/n, and no one can deny.

The actress welcomed her first child in early February. She went on to own a Golden Globe and a Emmy for her Netflix Miniseries.

The couple had their red carpet debut while attending the Grammys, with Styles proudly showing off his wife, the actress got candid while admitting that it was her first time going out without the baby, and though the child was with ‘grannie Anne’ the new mom still felt anxious.

In a interview with Kelly Clarkson while talking about parenthood Y/n said ‘It’s a crazy rollercoaster, they grow so fast! We decided, for now, not to have a nanny, we just want to enjoy all those little moments that we can, so it is being kinda of nuts, but we have a great team and a very supportive family. Harry is great, he aced the nappy game and night feeding, he’s a amazing daddy, we often joked that H had amazing fun uncle potential, but he’s positively surprising us all, he just goes beyond, the best parenthood partner a girl could ask for. Definitely my favorite dilf.’

1.Harry’s House.

Months before the ‘Adore You’ crooner announced his new album, Styles shared a candid picture of himself, his wife Y/n and their babygirl Delilah, with the caption: Home.

In early April the lyrics of ‘As It Was’ confounded fans a little, until four months later the couple announced the birth of their second daughter, Talulah, and their relocation to England in a more permanent scale. The couple not only has been living in London since mid 2021, they also acquired two homes in Styles motherland. Styles in a interview with Apple Music, said about his move: ‘A lot has change in my life the last few years, my home are now three amazing girls, my gorgeous wife and our two baby-daughters, but England is my comfortable place, initially we moved because I was going to film a movie, Y/l was still pregnant with Talulah, one night I come home after shooting and my wife goes: what do you think about moving here for real? And she goes on: I just spent an afternoon at a public park with Lilah without men with cameras following us around. It was a no brainer decision, we’re very happy, Lulah was born in London, my mum and sister are always around, I’ve never been happier’.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurbs #harry style blurb #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!yn #harry styles fluff #harry styles social media

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cleolinda · 10 months

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youtube

When I was a child in the '80s, I absorbed some kind of cultural truism that disco was ridiculous, embarrassing, cheesy, a cultural relic to be mocked at every turn. Remember, I'm under ten years old at this time, and I still manage to get this impression. There was another, milder sea change when grunge overtook the hair metal of the late '80s, so I never questioned the idea that disco should be dead and buried. We like silly things, I thought in my 13-year-old wisdom, and then we get over it.

Then I saw The Last Days of Disco (1998) while I was in college, and suddenly I realized that disco was fun, and it was like—it was in the roots of—music I already loved. And the end of that movie also—hints? tells you? I can't remember how explicitly—that disco didn't just fade like most trends; it was killed off.

I watched a lot of VH1 in those days, the late '90s, with a little TV sitting on my tall university-issue dresser, its corner overlooking my computer desk while I struggled with piles of assignments. This was the heyday of Behind the Music, so it was great background TV. And then one day (1999) they ran a Donna Summer—the "Queen of Disco"—concert special. The video up there is the song that immediately became my favorite of hers. It’s just instant serotonin to me, any version of it. I bought the whole VH1 album on CD, and "This Time I Know It's For Real" may genuinely be one of my all-time favorite songs, now, still, more than 20 years later. You can hear the original version (1989) here (the backing instrumental that I just found today is lovely), but the live version ten years later, the video up there, has a really special comeback—joyous, gracious survival—energy to it.

Watching the whole concert, I got it. Why the fuck did I ever think disco wasn't amazing? It was always the kind of thing I loved; we had all just been pretending that it was embarrassing glitter trash.

And then I found out why we were pretending. From densely-footnoted Wikipedia:

Disco Demolition Night was a Major League Baseball (MLB) promotion on Thursday, July 12, 1979, at Comiskey Park in Chicago, Illinois, that ended in a riot. At the climax of the event, a crate filled with disco records was blown up on the field between games of the twi-night doubleheader between the Chicago White Sox and the Detroit Tigers. Many had come to see the explosion rather than the games and rushed onto the field after the detonation. The playing field was so damaged by the explosion and by the rioters that the White Sox were required to forfeit the second game to the Tigers. [...] The popularity of disco declined significantly in late 1979 and 1980. Many disco artists carried on, but record companies began labeling their recordings as dance music. [...] Rolling Stone critic Dave Marsh described Disco Demolition Night as "your most paranoid fantasy about where the ethnic cleansing of the rock radio could ultimately lead". Marsh was one who, at the time, deemed the event an expression of bigotry, writing in a year-end 1979 feature that "white males, eighteen to thirty-four are the most likely to see disco as the product of homosexuals, blacks, and Latins, and therefore they're the most likely to respond to appeals to wipe out such threats to their security. It goes almost without saying that such appeals are racist and sexist, but broadcasting has never been an especially civil-libertarian medium." Nile Rodgers, producer and guitarist for the disco-era band Chic,

(who survived the disco era to make half the music I loved in the '80s)

likened the event to Nazi book burning. Gloria Gaynor, who had a huge disco hit with "I Will Survive," stated, "I've always believed it was an economic decision—an idea created by someone whose economic bottom line was being adversely affected by the popularity of disco music. So they got a mob mentality going."

The DJ who ran the whole thing, Steve Dahl, complains that it was VH1 itself—you know, those Behind the Music specials I was watching—circa 1996 that labeled the whole debacle as bigotry when it so totally was not, you guys, and he is so tired of defending himself. But I'm gonna tell you, Steve, I don't really care. Maybe Disco Demolition Night was your fault; maybe you were just a part of something so much bigger and uglier that you couldn't see the whole size of it. Can you draw a direct line from the weird bigoted vitriol directed at those dance records to Ronald Reagan, elected the very next year, not giving a single fuck about the AIDS crisis? You probably don't want to, but I will.

And I don't care because I can look around the U.S. right now and tell you, nearly 45 years later, people are trying to demolish a lot more than disco. The Club Q shooter was sentenced to life in prison just a few hours ago. It's Pride Month, and we're all sitting here holding our breaths. That's a terrible way to end a post about a beautiful happy song I love, I guess, unless you turn it around and say, that should have been the whole point of this post in the first place. Listen to this song and think, people wanted to destroy this music, this sound, this joy for some reason. They want to stop people from just living their lives, from dancing. And yet, disco is still here. It was there in 1979, and it was there when Donna Summer released this song in 1989, and it was there when she returned in 1999. The Queen of Disco passed away in 2012, and it's still here. I feel a lot of joy when I listen to this song, but I don't think I'd ever thought about it being the joy of grooving with something just because it’s beautiful, the joy of just being here, still.

#donna summer #music #video #disco demolition night #queer history #lgbtqia+#club q shooting #aids crisis #pride #pride for one thousand years #I feel really hesitant about the turn this post took but #if the dots are there you gotta connect them #long post #music discussion

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 months

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Lost and Found ♧| 2.

Leon S. Kennedy x reader (ft. my girl Ash)

A/N: This... this took me so long lmao I rewrote it like five times. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though! I don't really write slow burn, so this might suck. I wanna apologize for how fucking wonky the events of Part one are???? They're all out of order lmao anyway, Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: swearing, reader is an idiot (lovingly, of course), mention of a small injury, sucky slow burn

Word count: 2.7k

Check out part one here!

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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It had been a couple of months since Spain happened. Your life has definitely... changed. Both good and bad. You were plagued by nightmares frequently, instinctively grasping your arm every time you shot awake. A faint, pink scar had formed where the gash once sat. Tracing it absent mindedly was a common occurrence ever since the first dream. You'd stare at the blank wall in your living room, gently caressing it.

That mission took a toll on you, so you were granted a few months off to work through your night terrors and process everything. Ashley had been a great help with that. She made sure you hung out at least once a week and always stayed in contact, calling you and you calling her. The events of Spain didn't leave Ashley without any struggles either. But, she had assured you that she was save, protected at all times and getting support from professionals. Talking to her, about Spain or anything really, helped you get out of the hole you were in.

She was your best friend. Whether or not she knew it, she really was. You didn't really have friends. Not since Raccoon City. You stayed inside your dull little home the last few years, working a boring office job for the government. Your only friend had been Dave, a middle-aged man who worked in the security department. So you rotted away for years, mourning your past life. Your past you.

Honestly, you have no idea how you ended up as a special agent in the first place. Your police background increased your chances at scoring the position, but you didn't really have much experience. When you were offered the 'promotion', you didn't think too much of it. Couldn't be that hard, could it? You'd survived Raccoon City after all.

You were so wrong. You basically traded the mediocre lunch breaks you had with Dave, with running for your life from Zombies. Bad fucking trade. And the worst part, your officials didn't give a shit. They just wanted this to be dealt with as discretely as possible. End of the story, they underestimated how big this whole thing actually was, and now you were the one left with the shitty consequences. But you had Ashley! And Leon, of course, but that was a little more complicated.

You still hadn't gotten around to the promise of getting drinks together. He was going away on missions all the time, so although you kept in touch no matter what, he wasn't there. You thought, after some excruciating years, you had found your best friend again. Your person. And you did, but he was so close yet so out of reach. You couldn't take it anymore. You lost 7 whole years with him, and you finally had him back, but he was still gone.

"I don't know what to do, Ash." You sighed, playing with your shirt while you held the phone to your ear.

"Well, have you told him that? I'm sure he wants to spend more time with you too, but you need to tell him that!" She urged. Biting your lip, you hestitated.

"I just... he was my best friend. We did everything together, and now.. I know that it's him but I don't recognize him. He's.. different now. I thought he didn't change, but.. he did. That scares me. What scares me even more is the fact that he's always on my mind, I can't seem to function without him here. I only think about him. 24/7." You mumbled into the phone.

"Sounds a whole lot like you're in love with him."

"I- what? No! I mean, of course I love him, he's my best friend, but that's it. He's just my friend and you can love your friends, right? Like, everyone does, it's not something odd or anything." you rambled.

Sure, your heart lit a flame every time he smiled, and the sound of his laugh was heaven. His dumb jokes never failed to put a smile on your face but that's just how friends are. Yes. Totally. Friends feel like that. Just some regular friendly feelings.

"You're so oblivious! That's NOT how friends feel about eachother. Like ever. I've seen the way you look at him!" She argued. "What look? I don't look at him differently... do I?"

"Yes, you do. Everytime he's near you, that lovesick smile on your face kinda gives it away. Or the blush when he asks if you're okay. Not to mention how you panic when he gets hurt. Just admit it!" Ashley whined.

"I'm not in love with him, Ashley! He's my best friend, that's it!" You argued. She groaned into the phone. "I can't believe you're so smart yet so stupid." She said, clearly annoyed. "Rude." you mumbled.

"I have to go now, Miss Denial. Seriously though, you're not doing yourself a favor by denying your feelings." She said softly. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I'll think about it?"

"Definitely. Love you!" She beamed.

"Love you too." You chuckled as she hung up. Maybe you would think about it. If not for yourself, then for her. She was right about suppressing your feelings but about you being in love with Leon... you weren't sure.

Eh, that was a problem for the future you. For now, all you wanted to do was enjoy some drinks with him.

Your teeth gnawed at your lip, trying to decided how to go about this situation. Do you call Leon now? Tomorrow, maybe? Should you call him at all? You hadn't talked to eachother in a while... would it be awkward? Before you can lend any more attention to those thoughts, your phone rang and it was none other than Leon. Speak of the devil. You picked up, your heart racing.

"Hey... look, I'm sorry for not calling more, work s'just been busy. I.. Do you want to go for those drinks I promised tonight?" He sounded nervous. Unsure. He sounded so much like the Leon you knew. Your Leon. Maybe he hadn't changed that much after all. "Y-yeah, I'd love that. Um- how does eight sound?" You responded, a little more nervous than you wanted to. "Sounds good. See you." And with that, he hung up.

Something's up with him. Your brows furrowed. Maybe he worked more to get his mind off Spain? He was a workaholic, trying to do more and more and not realizing how much it actually affected him. He was hurting himself by trying to protect others from harm. Maybe it's just the stress. You had plenty of time to question him at the bar, supported by a few Piña Coladas.

A couple of hours before, the anxiety hit you like a truck. It was safe to say that you were scared out of your mind right now. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to Leon like nothing was going on? Like nothing happened? You couldn't. And after that conversation with Ashley? Nope. No chance. Panic was bubbling up your throat. You felt like you could never face him again. Everytime you looked at him, or even thought of him, it was just pain. The pain of the building collapsing on top of you. Your pained cries when you realized he hadn't come back for you. The pain when you thought he was dead. The pain that if Ashley was right and you really were in love with him, you could lose him again.

He made your world bright and vibrant and when he was ripped from your grasp, you were lost in a sea of grey. Drowning. Desperately gasping for air, refusing to let the water in. Now, he had brought the color back to your life but all the vibrant hues made your head spin and your eyes hurt. You grew comfortable in your sea of grey. Embracing the cold kiss of the water filling your lungs, making you float peacefully.

Could you let the color back into your world? Could you pull yourself from the tide and cough up the water? Did you even want to? You didn't know. It was all too much. You were pulled out of your head when you dropped your glass of water. You were so consumed in your thoughts and anxieties that it had just slipped out of your hand. Carefully cleaning it up, you felt a sharp sting in your finger.

You had accidentally cut yourself on the broken glass shards. A small stream of blood was running down your finger and along your palm. A drop of blood hit the puddle of water, and it bloomed in red. You haven't felt like this in years. You could actually feel something. It's not like you didn't you feel the last seven years, but your soul was too numb to care. You actually felt something. Not like those times when you hit your head or nicked yourself while cooking. You would react relatively neutral to those incidents, but now... you could feel the burn of the cut, a searing sting in your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips.

It's because of him. Because you had him back, and he made you feel alive again. He had just stumbled into your life and turned it upside down. Like he always does. But you wouldn't want to have it any other way. God, how you had missed feeling like this. So vulnerable. So sensitive. So human.

You cleaned up the glass but hung on to the feeling of the cut. You didn't like it per se, but it made you feel like something inside you had been fixed. A missing puzzle piece that slotted right into place. It just felt so right.

Just like he did. You shook your thoughts, having the habit of spiraling, wether it may be good or bad, and continued on with your afternoon. Your nerves about spending time with Leon calmed, it was just Leon! Your best friend. You had nothing to worry about. Well, with Leon, usually there was at least a little something to be worried about.

You were out the door, into the night, on your way to Leon. You had decided to just walk there since parking was an absolute nightmare in this city. Besides, the fresh air in your lungs and cooling breeze on your face was something you hadn't felt in a while. Fumbling with a small box in your pocket, you continued to the bar you two had agreed to meet up at. It wasn't really a present, more something you wanted to return. You never thought you could.

You took a deep breath before stepping into the warmth of the bar. Your eyes were searching for Leon, looking for that familiar blonde head of hair. Spotting him in the back, an inevitable smile crept onto your face. When Leon noticed you, his face lit up, a hand reaching up to signal you over to him. He stood up when you approached and immediately pulled you into a tight hug.

"Hey." He mumbled, muffled by your hair. "Hi." You said, the joy in your voice evident. The first real hug in seven years. You could've melted on the spot. It felt so good. So right.

You reluctantly pulled away, smiling at him. "Wow... It's been a while, huh?" He said with a small laugh. "Yeah.." you responded with a chuckle. You sat down and ordered your drinks. "So.. what have you been up to? How have you been?" You asked. He pondered for a moment. "Not a lot to be honest. Worked a lot, you know, saved the world once or twice." He joked at which you just playfully rolled your eyes.

"What about you?"

"I uh... I adopted a dog. Her name is Lady, she's a Bernese mountain dog. I couldn't stand being alone anymore so I got Lady and yeah... that's about it when it comes to major life events." You laughed, a little nervous but the tension was fading by the minute.

"You gave in, huh? You used to talk my ear off about wanting a dog back then, remember?" He smiled. You did talk about wanting a dog all throughout your time at the police academy and it seemed like you had finally fulfilled that dream.

"Yeah, I did. She's so sweet, you'll love her." you said with a smile. Leon let out a laugh. "I'm more worried about her liking me." He joked.

You two continued to talk and drink, just laughing and having a good time. The night got closer and closer to ending when you remembered the box in your pocket.

"I have something for you." You mumbled, nervous to how he would react. He piped up at that and raised his eyebrows. "Aw, for me?" He teased. You just gave him a shy smile. Now or never. You pulled out the small box and slid it over to him. "I wanted to return this." you said quietly. His brows furrowed and a confused look fell on his face. "Return? Alright."

Leon carefully undid the bow and opened the lid. Not in a million years had he expected this. His jaw hit the fucking floor. It was his goddamn RPD badge. What the fuck? How did you even get this? It was tattered and faded. He gently ran his fingers across his barely legible name.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You had no idea how he would react. Leon looked at you completely bewildered. "I.. How?" He asked, still shocked. You shifted in your chair and fiddled with your fingers. "When... when I got out, I found it on the ground. It was the only thing I had left of you." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact. By 'got out' you meant fighting and clawing your way through infected residents and escaping the ruins of the collapsed building.

You could see the pain in his eyes. Whether it was his own for the pain he felt for you, you weren't sure. You spoke before he could. "I made a promise to myself that I would get it back to you one day, but.. at some point, I gave up and just kept it for myself. I thought you were dead and that this," you gestured to the badge," was the only thing I had left of you. My best friend. But it's yours, I want you to have it back." You said, your voice cracking, trying not to cry.

You could see the tears glistening in his eyes, his knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped his badge. "Thank you..." was all he managed to get out. You quickly wiped the tears that were threatening to fall and let out a sad laugh.

"God... I'm sorry for ruining the mood like that. It probably would've burned a hole in my pocket if I kept it any longer, though..."

Leon placed his badge on the table and took your hands in his. "You didn't. Well, a little maybe, but I'm really grateful for this. Thank you." He assured you, sqeezing your hands. Your skin lit on fire. His touch was so addicting. And so comforting. A blush made its way onto your face. Oh, fuck. Was Ashley right? No. No way, it's just a little hot in here. That's all. But you couldn't deny the way your heart twisted and turned when he touched you, the butterflies in your stomach were having a fucking rave right now. Jesus, it's just Leon. Get it together You thought to yourself.

Shaking off all those annoying feelings, you returned a smile. "How about I make it up to you with a Movie Night, hm? Ice cream and cuddles from Lady included." You proposed. He grinned and leaned in a little closer. "What about cuddles from you?" He asked, a teasing smirk on his face. It didn't come off nearly was confident as he wanted it to. His voice shook a little, making him sound nervous.

Leon Kennedy? Nervous? Something was definitely up. His nervousness didn't stop the bubbling feeling in your stomach, though. There go the butterflies again. Stupid bugs. This is normal, though. Right? You always cuddled. Friends cuddle. No big deal. He's always been like that. No sweat. Just a little friendly cuddle session. That. Is. It. Is it bad that you wanted it to be more than that? The idea of being in love with him suddenly didn't feel as scary anymore.

Part three is coming soon~

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon #ashley graham

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shironayatl · 8 days

Text

And today's the mini event for the next big event!

Today we know what's their background is, so here we go!

The Leadership of the Student Union

Minerva Academy Student Union is an organization established by the academy. Through the careful management of each student union, it has now become an indispensable bridge and leader between the academy and students. In addition to the leadership team with the president and vice president as the core, there are also a number of functional departments responsible for different matters such as publicity, literature and art, and sports.

Among them, the Publicity Department has performed particularly well, and has been awarded the title of Excellent Department many times recently. The Publicity Department is responsible for daily tasks such as printing school newspapers and posting posters. It's not only records major activities of the college, but also records the energetic mental outlook of students. It is an indispensable student organization.

Minerva Academy Drama Club

Minerva Academy focuses on cultivating students' interests and hobbies. Minerva Academy has opened many clubs of different directions and types. The drama club is one of the most outstanding clubs among the many clubs. It has many members and with students that are good at acting, dancing, scripting, directing, etc.

The drama club has their own classroom. The space in the classroom covers the rehearsal space and prop storage space. It is also equipped with professional video recording and playback equipment. In addition, the school has also specially approved drama club students to use the school auditorium and other venues for rehearsals during specific times, so that students can better understand and learn drama-related content.

Overseas Exchange Program

In order to promote academic exchanges between on-campus students and classmates from overseas institutions, improve students' comprehensive quality, and stimulate students' innovative learning motivation, Minerva Academy has established an overseas exchange program. Every year, the academy will select a number of students to go overseas for cooperation. In addition to exchange studies between schools, overseas academy will also send students to this city to study with students from Minerva Academy.

Since overseas student representatives came to the city for inspection and decided to make Minerva Academy a key partner for the exchange program, the program has been implemented for many years, with a total of 43 students participating. Hoping the friendship between the two schools will last forever and the exchanges will last forever.

Strong artistic atmosphere

Under the concept of diversified development of Minerva Academy, the art lovers who gathered together continued to communicate and collaborate with each other, forming a strong artistic atmosphere in a corner of the campus.

The building is included with a fully equipped art classroom. The commonly used drawing board paints, plaster models, etc., the art classroom also prepares art book sections of different styles for students to refer to when creating. In addition to hosting club activities for students in the art club, the art classroom is also open to students outside the club during non-club time. Students who are interested are welcome to visit and experience and step into the door of the art world.

#translation #cn spoilers #tears of themis #cn server #tot cn spoilers #artem wing #vyn richter #luke pearce #marius von hagen #tot new event

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kaigarax · 6 months

Text

Speak

Fuegoleon Vermillion x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love becase there is simply nothing else you can do."

In every life there is a turning point. A moment so sharp and so clear that one feels as if all the breath has been knocked out of their lungs, and one knows, absolutely knows without the slightest hint of a doubt, that their life will never be the same. For some that moment is right before a big life changing decision; others in the midst of chaos; and some it’s in the aftermath of a great adventure.

For Fuegoleon, it was the first time he’d laid eyes on you.

Truthfully, there could have been a variety of different moments that Fuegoleon could have classified as life changing. Perhaps when he was promoted to Captain of the Crimson Lions, or when he first decided he would become the next Wizard King, or maybe even when he had first learned how to use magic. But none of them seemed to hold the same gravity to them as his first time meeting you.

He’d taken one look and fallen so hard and fast it was a wonder that he even managed to stay upright at all.

And it was here, in this moment, that he knew for a matter of fact that he would never again love another person that wasn’t you.

His older sister, Mereoleona, had run out into the woods as soon as she heard that the noble (L/n) family would be hosting a party to introduce their eldest daughter into high society. Fuegoleon who had, for all intents and purposes, been intending to follow after his sister was caught by the scruff of his shirt and forced to participate in the mind numbing event.

Which is how he found himself stuck in the back of a room resting his head on a table and swinging his legs (that didn’t quite reach the ground yet) back and forth repetitively in hopes that it just might help the time pass faster. If only ever slightly. It didn’t, of course, but at least it was something to do.

His mother had pulled him up by his arm at some point and dragged him to the front of the room to introduce himself.

The (L/n)s were a nice enough noble bunch. New money, as some of the older individuals called them when they thought Fuegoleon and his sister weren’t listening. Mereoleona, for one, never really cared for anything that didn’t involve getting stronger which meant that politics was up to Fuegoleon to handle. Now, he’d never hold someone’s background against them but it was hard for him to get along with people that didn’t share his own passion for getting stronger. Sure he was different from his sister but they were, in the end, cut from the same cloth.

And then he saw you.

And his life was never the same.

You looked a few years younger than him, though that might have been because of the poor health everyone else has been talking about. You’re dressed very nicely, a light coloured dress picked out to match your complexion and youth perfectly. It’s the same colour as your family crest. Your (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, on the other hand, don’t quite match the colouring of your parents but you do have that same sparkle in your eyes. Fuegoleon takes note of the grimoire that’s loosely hanging off the side of your hip as you bow in greetings.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You say, your voice ever so light and soft.

Fuegoleon can only stare at you. The words caught in his throat.

His mother is giving him a sharp glare from the corner of his eye but the words just don’t seem to be forming. She gives him a light shove that says you’re being rude but even that doesn't seem to be enough to snap him out of his daze.

“Sorry about him,” his mother apologises, “he’s not usually like this. I’m not sure why he’s being like this.”

You laughed, and it’s music to Fuegoleon’s ears, “it’s no problem. My younger sister is just as aloof sometimes.”

“Still…” his mother trails off.

Your parents give you a small smile, your father placing his hand on your shoulder, “why don’t you take Fuegoleon out for a tour of the room while we talk to Madame Vermillion?”

You nod, holding your hand out to Fuegoleon.

He manages to take your hand, allowing you to drag him off and away from yours and his parents. Your hand is warm and gloved. Huh. He didn’t think anyone other than an old woman wore gloves but maybe you liked the look of them? It’s not like young people weren’t allowed to wear them anyways. He does ponder asking you about them but it would be rude. Besides, it’s not as though he was able to speak to you at all.

Instead he merely smiled, listening to the sound of your soft voice as you explained about the different designs and why your family chose to have them the way they did. Fuegoleon didn’t exactly care about architecture but he liked listening to you speak.

You looked up to him, giving him a bright smile.

He also really liked the way you looked when you smiled.

---

The second time he sees you in person is a few years after the first.

He’d almost forgotten just how fast his heart ran and how the butterflies in his stomach seemed to come to life when you were near. Forgotten just exactly what love feels like until it’s hitting him in the face full force.

He’s tongue tied, suddenly frozen to the spot, and desperately hoping that you might turn around and notice him.

You’re sitting with an instrument in hand at the front of the bar strumming along to a song that Fuegoleon doesn't quite know but isn’t unfamiliar with. It’s certainly no place for a person such as yourself but he supposes he can’t very well judge you considering he’s found himself in the exact same place. Not that he had decided to come to this place on his own. His squad mates had dragged him here after a successful mission.

And won’t you dream of me~

Your voice is clear and rings like bells in the morning, calling the attention of everyone in the room much like how a siren might call men to a rocky shore or how light attracts moths to a flame.

“Do you know who that is, Fuegoleon?” One of his fellow squad members asks, noticing his sudden lack of contribution to the conversation.

“Oh!” Another one of his squad members chimes in, “that’s the (L/n) girl from…”

“(L/n)? Isn’t that a noble family?” The first squad member asks.

Fuegoleon’s voice is soft when he gives a simple, “yeah.”

“Wow. She’s pretty.”

“Is she?” Fuegoleon asks, not once having looked away from you.

His squadmates share a look with one another before laughing, “you’re down bad, aren’t you Fuegoleon?”

“Down bad?” Fuegoleon finally manages to pry his eyes away from you and towards his squadmates.

“In love~”

Fuegoleon crossed his arms, “I’m not in love with (Y/n).”

“Oh, so she’s (Y/n) to you and not (L/n), huh?”

“She’s a noble so of course we know each other.” Fuegoleon’s voice lowered, “or at least know of each other.”

“An unrequited love then.”

“I don’t love her.”

“So then are we just imagining the longing looks across the room?”

Fuegoleon shakes his head, “you can’t love someone you don’t know.”

“Then what about love at first sight.”

“That doesn't exist.”

“What!” Fuegoleon’s squadmates exclaimed, “prove it!”

“Well you’ve never met someone that claims to have fallen in love at first sight, have you.”

“True but…”

“Well neither have I.” Exclaimed Fuegoleon but deep in his heart he knew that was a lie. He had, of course, met someone who had fallen in love for the first time and that person happened to be himself. He just didn’t think that it was something his squadmates needed to know. It was, afterall, his own personal business.

“What haven’t you done?” You asked, popping up behind Fuegoleon.

The Magic Knight jumped ever so slightly in response. His eyes wide. He’d been so distracted with the conversation at hand that he hadn’t even noticed that the music had stopped playing and that you had already removed yourself from the stage.

“(L/n)!” Fuegoleon exclaimed.

You smiled playfully, “Vermillion.”

One of his squadmates laughs just loud enough for Fuegoleon to hear, “so it’s not (Y/n) anymore, Fuegoleon?”

Fuegoleon responds with a swift elbow to the ribs.

---

The third time (though of what Fuegoleon isn’t too sure) happens simply.

Fuegoleon happens upon you amidst a late night walk the two of you both happened to take. At first, he thinks you might be a fairy or nymph of some sort. An angle descendent down from heaven to earth when he first sees your free flowing hair and light dresses blowing with the wind. It’s such a contrast to both the formal and elegant dresses you wear during balls and the tight fitting uniform you wear while in the midst of battle. But it is not your clothing or hair that gives the most way to the contrast of the you he is familiar with and the you now.

You smile when you see him and it’s a gentle sort of smile. The kind of smile that gets his own heart racing, though he isn’t all too sure why.

“Fancy seeing you here, Vermillion.”

Fuegelon responds with a nervous laugh, “really? What makes you say that?”

“I never took you as someone to wander so far away from home.” You answer.

“Home?”

“Your Squad’s Base.”

“Oh.”

You take a step towards him, “would you want to take a walk with me?”

He feels a smile creep up on his face, “of course.”

Fuegelon walks behind you, his footsteps trailing after your own. He finds a strange sort of comfort in watching you forge the path ahead. Quite the trailblazer you are, walking with your hands behind your back in a light grasp and your gaze pointed upwards as if you’re looking for something in the stars.

His footsteps feel heavy in his late night boots (the first ones he happened to grab) in comparison to your own bare feet. He wonders if the water is refreshing and if the ridges in the sand remind you of your youth as it does him. If you’d ever consider stopping and placing your hand on his own as he does yours. Of course, he highly doubts that you’re the sentimental type. More of the kind of person that’s always doing their best to keep a distance between yourself and others. Even your relationship with your sister is a distant one.

Fuegelon imagines that if you slowed for just the briefest of moments and he took a quick step up that you’d have quite a pretty expression on your face. A hint of a smile yet calm and almost unreadable. It’s not the kind of expression he’d be used to seeing but one that he’d nonetheless recognize. And, he thinks that you’d laugh when he points it out, saying something funny. How you’d then lean in close and brush your shoulder up against his own.

All of that, of course, doesn't happen.

You are not the kind of girl that waits to walk alongside others and he is not the kind of boy to rush forward. The both of you, instead, choose to take things at your own pace.

“So, what brought you out here?” Asks Fuegelon.

“I guess I’m out here for the same reason as you.”

“I can't imagine how that would be possible.”

“Hm?” You tilt your head to the side ever so slightly, gesturing for him to elaborate further.

Fuegelon blushes, “well, I came out here because I saw you.”

“From where you’re staying tonight? That’s quite a distance away.”

“Well, I might’ve been informed that you’d be here ahead of time.” Fuegelon’s face feels fiery hot and he imagines yours is coated with the slightest hint of a blush as well.

“You’re kind, Vermillion. Very kind.”

There’s a fluttering warmth that ignites in his chest at your words. His heart is beating so loudly he wonders if you can hear it. If not for the sounds of the waves Fuegelon is certain that he’d die from embarrassment. Perhaps he already has and this moment is just some last illusion his mind has granted him in this period of time.

Fuegelon smiles, “thank you, (Y/n).”

Finally, you stop abruptly and face Fuegelon.

There’s such a contrast from the you standing in front of him and the you he’s come to know over these past few years. From your different clothing to your hair that hangs, flowling loosely in the wind. But the thing that creates the biggest contrast isn’t something like your outfit but rather the expression you happen to be wearing on your face. The difference between what you are in front of him and what you are in his mind are so stark that he almost mistakes you for a different person.

You, who is calmness and amusement in carnate with the slightest hint of a smile; and you, who are the waves crashing against a beach in the middle of the night.

So different from how he might have expected you to look before.

Your lips are turned down ever so slightly and your eyes are large and glassy as if you’re trying to blink back tears. Fuegelon suddenly finds himself aware of just how small you are and just how large and empty the beach seems. How big and empty this world you’ve surrounded yourself in is.

He didn’t know you were capable of such an expression.

That someone could hold this much sadness in their lives.

And it’s the third time.

Fall in love because there is simply nothing else you can do.

#black clover #black clover x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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