#i fucking love wearing platform shoes

[freshsheadphones]

I like how almost the entire jsab fandom just agreed that fresh wears heels/platform shoes

[uncanny-tranny]

Tall trans girl reading this: you aren't too tall for heels. If you want to wear them, wear them proud. There is nothing more spectacular than a tall woman in heels, and nobody can ever take that away from you, not even yourself 🩷🪻

[tinythebunni]

🌸🫧🍉

rafey with bimbo!reader and he jus can’t take his eyes off of her! he’s so obsessed with you in da most attractive way! he’s always looking for you in a crowd and if you’re not around him his mood immediately sours!

thinking about arriving late to a party u we’re supposed to go to with him and wearing dat pretty pink dress he loves with your white platform pumps! you know how much he loves it when you wear those shoes because you are almost da same height!

he’s already hard from da kiss you gave him before he left but now? he’s practically leaking in his jeans. he grabs you and takes you to da nearest bedroom before you can even say hai to your friends :(

but you don’t have time to be sad, he already has you face down ass up in da sheets, tongue licking at da wet spot on your panties!

“nngh rafe please! stop teasing me” your whining and begging him to do something but he wants to take his time with you tonight.

“sorry baby, fuck you jus look so pretty. needa get in you now”

you roll over to give him a kiss and try 2 unbuckle his pants but he pushes you back down onto da bed with a dark look in his eyes. “princess you know i love you so much, right?”

you answer with a nod and a tilt of your head, confused why he would ask dat! “good because you’re gonna think i hate you in a few minutes”

and you don’t leave da room until he’s cumming clear liquid and you black out on his cock 😋

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[nekohooch]

Otakon was amazing. Finally getting to wear my Azem summoning circle gown in person was so much fun. I had multiple people stopping me to gush over my costume and people from HERE telling me they saw it online and were so excited to see it in person. I haven’t been to a con since right before the pandemic and it was so nice to come back to a space I love so much. My goal of someone knowing what I was without me explaining was reached (thanks to the ffxiv photoshoot)! And I can’t wait to see the pictures of the group photo shoot. I added more details to the costume and (minus the stars which were my nemesis falling off the whole day) everything was perfect.

The gown itself took about 100 hours total. 85 originally and 15 to add finishing touches. The top is gold lamé and the chiffon overlay was ripping so I removed it. I have a whole costume breakdown under the tag for the original dress creation.

The necklace has an Azem summoning stone that my fantastic friends brought me from Fanfest which I repurposed. The most added details are the stars. I felt the black spots between the p design and the beams was a bit too big and wanted something to bridge the gap. I also considered adding my statics job symbols in the circles but they keep changing jobs XD

I added some more filigree details to the main Azem design in the front of the gown and individual rhinestones to each of the right angle v filigree and each of the small mirrored circles that make up the big circles because I’m extra along with a gold ribbon for the hem

Then I decided to add lights

Again because I’m extra

I don’t have skill with LEDs so I used individual 6ft fairy lights with tiny battery packs. I painted each battery pack black because the white shows through the skirt especially when lit up. There are about 75-90 battery packs I lost count at 2 am on Wednesday honestly ahaha. I looped them twice up and down so the effect would be less spaced out but I might edit that in the future if I figure LEDs and how to get more powerful ones because they weren’t really strong enough for 10 hours (you can faintly see them in the pictures above) and I kept turning them off when I sat. I used the same petticoat but added a hoop skirt because I was wearing tennis shoes (sadly sensible instead of fashionable) instead of my platform boots.

When people complimented me I would ask if they wanted to see my favorite part (which is spinning) and the laughs and gasps of delight were fantastic. Overall I’m so fucking proud of this costume. Thank you to all of you fab people from the FFXIV coordination who said such kind things I’m so flattered and lovingly overwhelmed. It was an amazing return to cosplay.

[alexturntable]

chris_bloodfilms Met my hero on a train. This story is long so scroll if you cba reading. It’s 2005, a band explodes on MySpace. They’re dressed like you and their lyrics are a mirror to your life. Bleeding heck, who the fuck are the Arctic Monkeys? After 19 years on repeat it’s now 2024. Myself and @/conor_bloodfilms are travelling back from Paris. We arrive at Gare Du Nord and Duffy stops in his tracks. He whispers to me “I think that’s Alex Turner.” “F**k off!” I immediately reply. I gaze over at a guy wearing a leather jacket with long brown hair, his face adorned with aviators. We should probably stop staring as it’s getting weird, sexually and aggressively weird. Turns out it is bloody Alex Turner, the man who’s provided the soundtrack to my life! He strolls past and disappears into the Parisian platform crowd. A missed opportunity. We board our train back to London. We look to our left and there’s Alex. Sitting in his seat accompanied by a notepad. He’s probably writing the next Arctic Monkeys hit “Two gawping pricks on a train”. We really need to stop staring. I tell Duffers I’m going in, he stops me. Reminds me that I’m a fully functioning adult and not to create a scene. Christ, he’s right! I feel like I’m 15 years old again, someone get me a Strongbow and whack Dancing Shoes on, kin hell lad! Eventually myself and Con engage, it’s a surreal experience. Alex is polite and returns conversation in a soft friendly manner. The whole situation is just bloody lovely. I awkwardly ask if I can take his portrait, fully aware that it could result in an awkward exchange and destroy this wonderful moment. He smiles and obliges, he’s effortlessly cool, asks for direction and I take a few snaps. We disembark the train, I felt quite emotional and that’s embarrassing to admit. Maybe it was the jet lag, the caffeine and croissant overload? Or maybe it was just the rekindling of my youth. This all might sound trivial, however, for me these portraits are deeply personal serving a reminder that life is a series of fortunate events and when fully appreciated can conjure up some pretty awesome memories.

[tora-ken]

crooked memory

genre fluff, angst, major character death, mentions of blood

tags gojo satoru x reader, biker!gojo

summary gojo satoru loves you so much.

wc; 1.3k

reblogs would be appreciated, please do not plagiarise my work, or share it on any other social media platform!

you would risk absolutely anything to see your boyfriend — the boyfriend your parents forbade you from dating, the boyfriend everybody told you was a red flag, the boyfriend even you told yourself to not fall for. but god, was satoru gojo irresistable.

the sweetest boy you had ever come to discover in this short life of yours. how the loving words he told you melted off his tongue like honey, how his arms embraced you like a soft blanket, how his eyes were the most alluring sight to fall for. he was dream, and he was yours.

light taps against your window turn your head suddenly, to notice your boyfriend outside your house, looking up at you with another pebble in his hands.

“hi baby!” he cheers, and drops the pebble, beginning to climb his way up to your room as you open your window.

“you’re not supposed to be here, what are you doing?” you walk backwards, letting him into your bedroom.

“i wanted to see you, but your parents won’t let me in.” his smile blinds you, and he closes your window quietly. he takes off his shoes, and crawls into your bed.

“hey, i just changed the sheets, at least wear the sweatpants you left here.” you whine, and open your drawer, taking out his clothes for him to wear.

he smiles at the thought of you having his things, the thought of him being a part of you, everything of him is part of you. he can’t define himself without you. the girl who makes him who he is.

“okay, baby, anything you want.” he gives you a longing kiss, before changing into appropriate clothes.

the two of you curl up in your freshly changed sheets, smelling exactly like you. he lays on your side of the bed, which you allow because you know he loves the smell of your hair on the pillow. you’re facing each other, his hands trailing your face, and yours in his hair, a moment he wishes would never end.

“how’d you get here, i thought your parents weren’t letting you out of the house.” you finally speak.

“i snuck out! i found the keys to my motorbike and just got here.” oh, how this boy would do absolutely anything for you — he was smitten. he would walk naked through a blizzard if it meant getting to you.

you held his entire heart, his entire being belonged to you and you only — and he never forgot to show that. how could he? you consumed his existence, every waking thought of his was devoured by you. a world without you was a world without him.

“what are you gonna do if you get caught?” your eyes widen in panic, excuses of what to say flourish in your mind.

“don’t worry i won’t get caugh-“ the door opens, and satoru sees your parents, seething. he looks on your side of the bed, only to see that you’ve vanished, and reality slaps him in the face.

you’re gone.

“what are you doing here? i thought we told you to never show your face again!” your father lifts the poor boy up by his sweater, the sweater you got him for his birthday, and satoru worries that it’ll tear.

“honey, please let him go, don’t hurt him.” your mother interjects, pulling him away from satoru’s neck, to which he releases a gasp. “you need to leave, sweetheart. you can’t just sneak into our house like this for no reason.” she tries to reassure satoru kindly.

“i came here for y/n.” he feels the tears well up in his eyes, his bottom lip trembles as he tries to conceal the cry for help that’s about to explode on his expression.

“you know damn well she’s not here. and it’s all your fault you fuck-“ your father starts, and your mother places her hand on his chest.

“we know you miss her satoru, we do too. what happened to her was horrible for everyone, but you need to go home, we spoke to your parents, they said you weren’t leaving the house.”

satoru suddenly remembers everything, how he made you sneak out one night with him to go on a motorbike ride, the rides your parents always hated you going on. but you had done it millions of times before then, so you left, helmet in hand.

he remembers everything so clearly, how you begged him to stop going so fast, how it was too scary, and how he laughed and just said to hold on tight. he remembers your arms around his waist, how strong of a grip you had around him — he remembers how cold it was that night, the wind and the rain soaking your outfits. he remembers the oncoming truck and your screams before everything goes dark.

he remembers gaining consciousness shortly after, how your helmet screen is cracked, face bloodied, yet you still tried to reach a hand out towards him. he remembers how you tried to shuffle towards him, and him to you, before you eventually got slower, your arm lowering, and how you laid limp, only a few centimetres before him.

he remembers being in the hospital, waiting for you, asking the doctors, nurses, his family and friends about you, only to get the same answer each time — “she’s resting.” he remembers the day you died, the same day he got discharged from the hospital, and immediately went to visit you.

he remembers hearing the monotonous beep of the machine beside you, and how his world comes crashing down, how he begins to realise it was all his fault. he should’ve never made you sneak out on such a rainy night, he should’ve slowed down when you begged him to, he should’ve just stayed in your room with you that night like he had done before.

he remembers how weeks after your funeral, he got out of bed late at night, and decided to go to your house, your room, and climbing up your house to get into your room, because you had always kept the window open for him. he remembers going into your drawers to get his clothes out, before laying in your bed, muttering to himself, saying your name, calling you baby, all before he had gotten caught by your parents.

“i-i’m sorry, i know it’s my fault, i don’t know what came over me mr and mrs l/n, i’m sorry, i’ll go-“ he breaks out into a violent sob, before getting up and trying to leave through your window, only to be stopped by your father.

“stop.” satoru turns around, with eyes like a puppy. “stay for the night, you can sleep here.” and your father walks off, with your mother following suit, after closing the for satoru, and telling him sweet dreams.

your parents knew how much you loved satoru, how happy he made you, no matter how much of a bad influence he was. they knew how much he brought light to your eyes, how you would rather disappear forever than be in a world without satoru, because he defined you, and a world without him was a world without you. no matter how much your father disapproved of the gojou boy, he knew that satoru was always going to be the one for you, in this life and the next.

satoru sniffles, looking around your room, how cold and empty it felt. even if it was full of memories and photos and posters that represented, the room was shallow, yet so spacious and deep, all because it lacked you. satoru looks at the polaroids of you and your friends taped above your desk, and notices a press dried flower besides it, with a label underneath that wrote “first date with satoru <3”, and satoru breaks all over again. you consumed him, yet you weren’t around, and that was the worst part.

and it’s at this point, satoru absolutely knows for sure, a world without you, is a world without him.

a/n: sorry, kinda bad but i was listening to nomad by clairo on repeat whilst listening to this i think i definitely cldve worded this whole thing better

©️ tora-ken 2024

[saiyanprincessswanie]

What do you Desire

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Word Count: 2465

Summary: Ari explores one of his desires with you.

Warnings: Anal sex, anal play, size kink, Ari is 6’4, oral (F & M), multiple orgasms, friends with benefits with feelings. Dialogue in bold, “You're taking me so well, baby.”

A/N: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo. All mistakes are mine. Thank you to @fictional-affairs for the header and @firefly-graphics for the divider.

A/N 2: This is for @steviebbboi writing challenge. This can be read with the mini-series I started called Infinity Sex or as a standalone. These are the previous fics Give Me One More & Mine to Ruin.

Reblogs & Comments are welcomed and encouraged. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

Tonight was all about Ari and his desires as you knocked on his apartment door. Normally he was all about what you wanted and the new things to try in the bedroom. When Ari expressed he wanted to try anal with you, you wanted to throw yourself in his arms and his bed. This was also something on your list to try but you had always been nervous about it until Ari showed up in your life. You trusted him completely, cared for him deeply and a part of you was falling in love with this gentle man. You both started as strictly friends with benefits, but as time passed, you couldn’t ignore your feelings anymore. You didn’t want to ruin the good thing you had with him so you locked those feelings away.

After a moment of waiting Ari’s front door swung open and there he stood before you in sweatpants and a form-fitting t-shirt. You had to control yourself as the t-shirt he was wearing showed off all his muscles. It was like he was sculpted from the gods above. 

“Hey sweetheart, so happy you're here. Do you want any wine?” Ari hugs you tight before letting you go.

“Yes please,” you stated as you walked into the apartment in your leggings and one of Ari’s shirts that was oversized. The door closed behind you as you kicked off your shoes, placing them at the entrance. 

You followed Ari into the kitchen where he poured you both a glass of wine. Ari handed you the glass and you took a sip of it. You could see his blue eyes wandering across your body like he was drinking you in. You could be wearing a potato sack and you knew he would still eye fuck you. The thought of it brings a smile to your face. 

“So I wanted to make sure you were still up for tonight's scenario. I mean I know this is something I have always wanted to do with you sweetheart but if you aren’t comfortable now or at the time of it I need you to let me know. We can always do something else. I just want you safe and comfortable.” Ari commented as he took a drink of wine. 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face after what he said. He was always looking out for your well-being. He never forced you to do anything you didn’t openly want to try. Ari and you had a safe word just in case anything was too intense for you. But never once had you used it the entire time you had been together. 

“I am ready for tonight. It’s something I have always wanted to try with you. You always take care of me in bed and I trust you will do the same tonight. I know this is something on your list as well so let us do as we always do. Take our time and enjoy one another.” You suggested taking another drink of your wine. 

Ari smirked at you as he moved closer to where you stood in the kitchen. Ari was a very tall man compared to you standing at 6’4. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Why don’t we take this to my room? I want to be able to have some fun before we try anything new. What do you say, sweetheart?”

“I say let’s go Mr. Levinson and don’t forget to bring the wine.” You winked at him as you turned on your heel and walked away swaying your hips. 

Ari downed his glass of wine as he watched you head to the bedroom. “God she is going to be the death of me.” Ari picked up the bottle of wine and followed you quickly. 

In the bedroom, you turn on the lights next to the sides of the bed. Your body slides across the covers as you lay in the middle of the bed waiting for Ari to pounce. It doesn’t take long before he enters the room placing his glass and the bottle of wine on an end table. Ari walks to the end of the bed and slowly takes his shirt off revealing his muscular body that had a fair amount of chest hair. He slowly crawls up the bed until his body is changing you in.

“You’re too overdressed, sweetheart. Let me help you out of your clothes.” He states. 

Ari leans you upward as he grabs the shirt and pulls it over your head. His fingers then unclasp your bra and take it off slowly. His hand pushes you back on the bed as he works his way lower, kissing your body as he descends past your breasts and to your stomach. Ari’s fingers grab the waistband of your leggings and underwear, pulling them down your legs and discarding them. There you lay bare in front of him. Ari licks his lips as he takes your naked body in front of him. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He wanted more than just your body, he wanted you to be his. The problem was he didn’t want to scare you away from him if he told you how he felt. 

Pushing your legs apart Ari settles his broad shoulders in between your legs. He places your legs over his shoulders and starts kissing slowly up your thighs. His beard left scratches in his wake as he made his way towards your pussy. You let out a shuddering breath when he licks through your pussy and kisses your clit. His tongue makes another pass through your petals and a moan escapes your lips.

Your fingers find refuge in his hair as you slide your fingers through his hair. Ari starts to eat you out like a man starved as his tongue and lips work you over. His right thumb finds your clit and rubs circles around it making you moan his name to the heavens. You can feel your body starting to get closer and closer to your end. Your breathing grows quicker the more Ari eats you out. A few more swirls of his tongue and swipes of his thumb to your clit has you screaming your release. Your arousal leaks all over Ari’s beard as he works you through your climax. 

As you come down from your high Ari pulls away and kisses his way back up your body to your breasts. He takes a nipple in his mouth and slightly sucks on it. Again he pulls off with a pop and does the same thing to your other nipple. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you start to pant. Once he pulls apart from you he kisses you passionately on your lips. His tongue plays with yours as he grinds his clothed cock against your core. When he pulls away from you so the both of you can breathe you press against his chest with your hand signaling for him to lay on his back. 

It’s your turn to pull off his sweats and boxer briefs down his legs, discarding his clothes onto the floor. His cock is hard, long and thick. Just knowing this will be in your ass in a matter of minutes makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whine at the thought of him taking you from behind and ruining your hole for all other men. Ari smirks at you as if he could read your mind. It was as if you could communicate with no words. 

You crawl up his body and lightly grab a hold of his cock. Your head dips down letting your tongue swirl around the tip of his cock. You lick the precum that is dripping down the head of his cock and slowly take him down your throat.

Ari softly whispers “fuck” as soon as he feels you take him deep in your throat. He runs his fingers through your hair as you work yourself up and down his shaft. His hands grip your hair as he starts to fuck your throat. You hum in delight at being used for his pleasure. You hollow your cheeks as you both work together chasing his high. His cock hits you deeper in your throat making tears fall from your eyes. It feels as though you can’t breathe at times but you don’t care you keep bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Cupping his balls you start to play with them causing Ari to groan loudly as he starts to chase his high. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, don’t stop.” He pleads. 

A couple more thrusts and Ari is cumming down your throat as he moans your name over and over. He lets go of your hair as you swallow his cum down your throat. You lick your lips making sure you got every drop of cum in your mouth and take a deep breath in. Ari looks like you swallowed his soul down as he is breathing deeply in and out.

“God damn, sweetheart, that was fucking great. Just give me a minute before I have my way with you.” 

Ari pulls you to his chest and kisses your forehead. You cuddle up against him as you both continue to touch one another sensually. Every caress, every kiss makes this feel more intimate between the two of you. Time passes and you start to get aroused again. Looking down at Ari’s cock he starts to grow hard. Sitting up in bed Ari opens the end table drawer and pulls out some lube. 

“Now sweetheart, I’m going to get you stretched out before we go any further. Okay?”

You nod your head as you get into position, head down and ass up. Ari shuffles behind you and lightly rubs your hip. He pours some lube on your hole and his fingers. The lube makes you tense at first but then you relax. His thumb rubs soft circles around the rim of your hole and with every light pass he just pushes the tip of his thumb into you slowly. Inch by inch his thumb stretches you. Causing you to groan out in pleasure. In and out, he moves gently to not hurt you.

“I’m gonna add two fingers to help stretch you out better. You’re gonna need to take at least three for me to fit.” He pushes two fingers inside you as you moan his name.

“Ari, baby, this feels good. The stretch is…oh god… it's so fucking good.” 

Your ass presses back against his fingers as he finally puts all three inside you. Ari works them in and out of you. Now and then he speeds up making you squeal in delight. After several minutes of working on you and stretching you, adding another finger, and doing it again, he pulls his three fingers out. Ari pours a little more lube on you and strokes some on his cock. 

“Okay sweetheart, I’m going to push inside you. If anything hurts you know your safe word. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

He grabs his cock and puts the tip to your puckered hole. Slowly he pushes into you and your hole stretches around his thickness. Inch by inch he gently moves inside you and when he is fully inside his cock pulls out just as gently. Your soft whimpers and moans fill the air as Ari starts to speed up a little. Every push and pull has you holding onto the bedding. Ari loves the tightness around his cock and the noises you are making. With as tight as you feel he is afraid he isn’t going to last as long. 

“Darling you are gripping me tightly. Feels so good. You feel so good. Can I go a little harder?” He all but begs you.

“Yes, baby. I need more of you.” You whined as he started to thrust a little harder into you. You relax as much as possible so he can thrust into you more easily.

Every push and pull of his cock has you both moaning and groaning. Ari’s pace is just what you need. Your fingers glide down between your legs to where your clit is. Reaching it you start to play with yourself rubbing it in pace with Ari.

With every thrust you push back against him, trying to chase your end. Ari’s grip on your hips is almost bruising as he gets lost in the sensation of it all. 

“You're taking me so well, baby. I’m close, sweetheart. So fucking close. I need you to cum for me.”

Your fingers continue rubbing your clit and you can feel that familiar coil within you about to break. A few thrusts and a slap to your ass from Ari sends you over the edge as you chant his name over and over. 

That’s all that he needed to hear to make him cum inside you. His thrusts slow down until he is finished. Ari gently pulls himself out of your hole and watches you sink into the bed. Fuck did he enjoy himself for his first time doing anal. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You mumble out, “Yes, I think I need a minute.” 

Ari straddles your hips and starts to massage your back. He knew you needed this and worked to get all the stress worked out of your back. After ten minutes of massaging he leans down to kiss your shoulder.

“Let’s get up so we can both shower. Then we can lay down.” He kisses you again as you groan out your frustration of having to get up. But you knew you had to.

You both crawl out of bed and take a hot shower together. Each of you cleaning the other while enjoying the intimacy of it all. By the time you were cleaned, you both dried yourselves off and were heading to bed. Ari was putting the lube away as you climbed into bed.

Ari joins you and cuddles up behind your naked form. His big arm drapes across you and pulls you close to his chest. 

You both start to drift off into your sleepy state when you whisper, “Love you, Ari.”

His eyes open up at the sound of your voice and he smiles to himself. “Love you too sweetheart.” But it seems he’s too late as he hears your soft snores as you sleep. 

Were you both just confessing the love you had for one another or was it just a slip of words? He worries that maybe his feelings are getting too involved in what was an agreement between the two of you. This is something you both will need to talk about soon. For now, Ari holds you close and falls asleep.

Taglist

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@mercurial-chuckles

[honeybadger16]

Charles Leclerc! Boyfriend Headcanons

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader 

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing, Charles being a simp for his GF

Word Count: .6k

a/n: Im thirsting over this photo so hard. I want them around my throa-

Charles is such boyfriend material 

the first date would include a tour around Monaco with Charles showing you his favorite spots growing up 

Extremely attentive to your mood and feelings

would actively listen and get angry with you when you come home and vent about the stupid people at your job 

“yeah fuck her” 

if you get a period he’ll get you ten different kinds of chocolates and all the types of pad or tampons the store has 

fusses over you

“you need to stay in bed!”

“Charles I’m just on my period not dying” 

“shh you need all the rest you can get” 

when he’s away for races he’ll text you good morning and night every.single.time.

sends you photos of what reminds him of you 

this included the pink tulips in his mom’s garden, the baby deer he spotted on his run, and the delicious strawberry gelato he got with Arthur

his entire camera roll is photos of you off guard 

to you, the photos should never see the light of day, but Charles could stare at them all day

expect all the pet names in the world with him 

“Mon amour, Mon Chéri, princess, my love, etc.”

speaking of princesses, expect him to treat you like an actual princess

likes to tie your high heels before you go out, so he can sneak a few kisses on your body

when he had a rough day he likes to sit at the piano and play for a bit

you usually sit by him resting your head on his shoulder as he pours out his emotions through his self-written songs 

you would encourage him to release his music on his platforms, giving him the courage to share his creativity with the world

at home dates are a must 

these dates would include binge-watching 2000s romcom movies and eating sugary and fat foods Charles’ nutritionist would not approve of

you would also convince him to let you do skincare on him (face masks, moisturizers, toners, etc.) 

he secretly loves the attention you give him and looks forward to stay-in date nights

this man is so dramatic

would get offended if you watched an episode of a show without him 

“I’m so hurt mon amour how could you do this to me.”

fighting is inevitable for any couple, and yours would most likely stem from the stress of racing and the effects it has on Charles 

Sometimes when Ferrari’s strategy or engineering goes to shit, Charles will come home in a bad mood 

This will cause him to respond in a curt and rude manner

After a few hours have passed he will come and apologize to you, kissing you all over your face asking you to forgive him

he loves when you use flavored lip balm, it gives him an excuse to kiss you more as he tries to guess the flavor

his favorite color on you is red, especially when shopping for lingerie

the first time you wore red underwear for him, he nearly came in his pants 

his mom would approve of the two of you seeing how happy you make Charles 

this man is whipped

he’s constantly heart eyes towards you 

will buy you all the nicest perfumes, jewelry, and shoes 

got you a necklace with the initial C and wears a matching bracelet with the initial of your first name 

loves when you wear his name on your shirt during racing weekend 

people would know that you’re dating regardless of the shirt because he’s attached to you in the paddock

whether it’s holding your hand or wrapping his arm around your waist he loves feeling you next to him

always looks for you first in the crowd when he stands on the podium 

considers you his rock and would do anything for you 

[musicandotherstuff]

Recent photo of Alex Turner taken by a fan, 2024

chris_bloodfilms: "It's 2005, a band explodes on MySpace. They're dressed like you and their lyrics are a mirror to your life. Bleeding heck, who the fuck are the Arctic Monkeys?

After 19 years on repeat it's now 2024. Myself and @/conor_bloodfilms are travelling back from Paris

We arrive at Gare Du Nord and Duffy stops in his tracks. He whispers to me "I think that's Alex Turner." "F**k off!" I immediately reply. I gaze over at a guy wearing a leather jacket with long brown hair, his face adorned with aviators. We should probably stop staring as it's getting weird, sexually and aggressively weird.

Turns out it is bloody Alex Turner, the man who's provided the soundtrack to my life! He strolls past and disappears into the Parisian platform crowd. A missed opportunity.

We board our train back to London. We look to our left and there's Alex. Sitting in his seat accompanied by a notepad. He's probably writing the next Arctic Monkeys hit "Two gawping pricks on a train". We really need to stop staring.

I tell Duffers I'm going in, he stops me. Reminds me that I'm a fully functioning adult and not to create a scene. Christ, he's right! I feel like I'm 15 years old again, someone get me a Strongbow and whack Dancing Shoes on, kin hell lad!

Eventually myself and Con engage, it's a surreal experience. Alex is polite and returns conversation in a soft friendly manner. The whole situation is just bloody lovely.

I awkwardly ask if I can take his portrait, fully aware that it could result in an awkward excha"

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Five Times Sirius Black Fucked James Potter and One Time He Didn't

(somewhere in a slytherin!sirius au inspired by @arliedraws...

part 2/5. read part one here.)

Sirius Black had already turned the lights off for the night. He had already changed into soft flannel pajama bottoms and had gotten into bed. Soft summer blanket over his legs. Everything was quiet in his cottage on the side of shore, aside from the waves crashing against the rocks outside. Just as he liked it. Preferred it.

Until there was a knock.

No.

A knock was an understatement.

Pounding. Banging. Punishing. His front door.

Sirius instinctually grabbed his wand, though he knew it was probably a drunk muggle who had wandered a touch too far down the road from the neighboring shore town. Or his cousin, had forgotten how to use the floor for some reason and desperately needed a cup of sugar for a cake she was making.

It was wartime.

Of course someone was baking.

Sirius tiptoed down the stairs, wand in front of his face, and paused before the front door.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“What in the name of Merlin’s wrinkled—” Sirius started, swinging the door open roughly, ready to give a firm dressing down to whoever was on his doorstep at this hour, for being so damn rude, but lost his train of thought.

Even in the dark, only lit up by a wand, Sirius could recognize the shape of James Potters messy hair. It had been nearly a year since they had graduated, and the last time they had seen each other, and that was across a crowded train platform. Of course, Sirius had heard his name circulating among talk in the wizarding world, and he mostly stifled eye rolls. Out of school and people were still worshipping the ground James Potter walked on.

Such a lovely boy.

“Put your wand down, Black,” James said, his hands attempting to shield some of the light.

“Excuse me?”

“Just put it down, okay?”

“You’re at my doorstep and you’re making demands?”

“I’d prefer to be in your home, but I don’t want to invite myself in. Didn’t your mummy teach you manners? One of your nanny’s perhaps?”

Sirius exhaled through his nose, wiggling his fingers around his wand, “Prove it.” Sirius said, attempting to get control of the situation again. Though he knew no one impersonating James Potter on this Earth would’ve thought to find Sirius. Mistake one. But even so. Sirius was buying time.

Time to collect himself.

Time to trying to figure out what James could possibly be doing here.

“We got detention together fourth year because we raced to the front of the room in Potions to get Professor Slughorn’s attention first, and I tripped on my shoelace—that you untied—and accidentally spilled two vials of Shrinking Solution onto Peter MacMillan.”

Sirius snorted, “I did not untie your shoes.”

“You’re still going with that, are you? And here I thought, now that we’ve graduated and moved on a bit, we could let bygones be bygones and go about our lives like mature adults, and maybe you could admit to untying my shoe, and I don’t know, dying all my robes pink second year and—”

“Now you’re being ridiculous. Showing up to my home, making demands to enter and now accusing me of sabotaging your Potion’s grade. I ought to shut the door on you.”

“If you were going to do that, you would’ve already done it,” James said, voice losing some of the lightness it had moments before, and calling Sirius’s bluff in a single breath. “Can I come in?”

It was almost embarrassing, how quickly Sirius stepped aside and lowered his wand to let James walk into his home. He already knew to take off his shoes, leaving beat up trainers by his front door next to Sirius’s dragon hide boots. Sirius prided himself on always having an answer. A plan and a protocol in place. His parents used to chastise him, because he always had something to say and always had to get the last word in. But at this moment, with James Potter in his foyer, Sirius hadn’t a clue what to do.

Because it had been months and James was wearing jeans, and he had swapped out his thin wire-rim glasses for smarter, squarer ones that suited his strong jaw, and Sirius—

“I like your jammies,” James teased, looking down at Sirius’s flannel pajama bottoms.

Sirius wanted to disappear, following James’s gaze and remembering he was also wearing slippers. Pale blue slippers.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Sirius offered as means of an explanation, “And it’s the middle of the night.”

“It’s barely eleven.”

Sirius made a noise from the back of his throat, “You’re the rudest house guest, Potter. You know that?” he said, walking down the short hallway, hoping, knowing James would follow. “Calling at odd hours, making fun of my attire, and the time I go to bed….”

“I said I liked your jammies.”

“Fancy a pair?” Sirius responded, all too aware of how juvenile he sounded. If you love it so much, why don’t you marry it? Ha, ha, ha. James made himself at home instantly in Sirius’s kitchen, unphased and uncaring. What a confidence, a power to know you were welcome anywhere in the world. James didn’t have to question that. Whether he was wanted in spaces, he just knew. Sirius busied himself with the tea kettle, watching with a raised eyebrow as James looked around the kitchen, slouching back in the chair at Sirius’s circular kitchen table.

James had been sitting for approximately fifteen seconds and the tablecloth already had a crease in it.

And Sirius knew he’d spend all of tomorrow doing is very best not to straighten it out again, the same way Sirius would leave his curls loose in school after a…meetup with James.

“How do you take your tea?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?” Sirius mimicked, trying his best not to smile at how quickly James scowled. Eleven and Fourteen and Nineteen were one in the same. “How do you take your tea?”

“Just milk,” James said, attention returning to Sirius, “This isn’t where I imagined you would live.”

“Pray tell, Potter.”

“I dunno,” James shrugged leaning forward onto the kitchen table, another crease in the table cloth, “Some place sterile…dark. A hospital ward, perhaps. A cave. This is actually charming.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the counter, “It was my Uncle’s and I chose it—”

“Chose! Of course you had multiple options of houses available to you. What, you didn’t want to go to France? Or Croatia, I’ve heard it’s lovely there.”

“Thought about it,” Sirius shrugged, heart squirming in his chest and smirking as the familiar banter infiltrated their conversation. Especially as James shook his head, always eager to poke at Sirius’s blatant privilege. “I preferred the quiet over here. Don’t get too many visitors. In fact, there are wards, and I’ve not given out my address to the Daily Prophet, so I am wondering how it is you found me.”

“Lucky guess?”

“Not quite.”

“My…mother knows your cousin. Andromeda, that’s her name, right? And I…told her I—”

“Lied.”

“Okay, well, yes, I lied to my mother—”

“Shame on you.”

“--and told her to ask because I wanted to send a birthday gift and we had lost touch—”

“How sweet of you to remember. What did you bring me?” Sirius asked, flicking his wand to magically pour the steaming water from the kettle into two mugs. One with milk, one without. And walking over to sit across from James in the soft, dimly lit kitchen.

“I uh..didn’t…” James fumbled, “That…was the lie.”

Sirius clicked his tongue in mock admonishment, “You’re on very thin ice here, Potter. Infractions adding up one by one.”

“…Sorry?” James offered, large hands wrapping around the cup of tea, thumb neatly sliding under the handle. He still bit his nails.

“Hm,” Sirius responded, and took a sip of his own tea slowly, eyes never leaving James. This was more like it. Sirius liked to see James squirm. Stammer. Forget himself. And if Sirius waited just long enough, James would fold, and Sirius would let him. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re here, Potter? Or should I start guessing? Make it a…game. I recall you being fond of those.”

James nearly choked on his swallow of tea, not all of it making the way down his throat, a small dribble leaking out of the corner of his mouth. James covered his mouth in search of a napkin, but Sirius was quicker, summoning one over to the table and into his hand. Sirius stretched his arm across, carefully wiping the corner of James’s mouth, tilting his head to the side.

“Careful,” Sirius said, “It’s hot.”

“No games.”

“I’m not playing one. Are you?”

“I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“Congratulations.” Sirius had known, of course. There was no wizard or witch in London who didn’t know James Potter and Lily Evans were getting married. The wedding the gossip around pubs and shops. The silver lining, and the only good bit of news in recent times. Dark times. Sirius knew. He didn’t know it was so close.

“It’s my stag party tonight…actually. Right now.”

“Should I be expecting those…charming friends of yours to show up as well? What’s that dodgy blokes name, the small one you walked around with? Pettigrew?”

“He’s not dodgy,” James corrected, and Sirius nonchalantly took a sip of his tea, in lieu of saying anything further “I…they’re not coming here. I stepped away, lost them and walked around that town down the road for about two hours before deciding to make it to your door.”

“And why would you want to come to my door,” Sirius asked, hand under his chin pretending to think, “I’ve got it. You want me to attend your wedding. Well I deeply apologize, Potter, I’ve simply nothing to wear on this short of notice.”

James groaned, head tilting backward to stare up at the ceiling, “I forgot how irritating you were.”

Sirius laughed softly, taking another drink of his tea, watching as James’s fingers tapped on the top of the table, still staring up at the ceiling.

Game. Set.

“Cold feet?”

“I love her,” James said firmly, before looking back to Sirius, “I love her.”

“I would hope so.”

“It’s not cold feet, I want….I want to marry her.”

“What else do you want?” Sirius asked, resting his forearms on the table and leaning forward.

“I’m getting married tomorrow,” he repeated, perhaps hoping Sirius would heed the warning. Push him away, kick him out of his house.

In which world?

Sirius just smiled softly, “So you’ve told me. What else do you want?” he asked, bringing a hand up to Potters face, caressing his cheek softly.

“You know. You know why I’m here, Black.”

“I do…” Sirius said, standing up from the table and walking to stand to the side of James, tilting James’s head up to meet his gaze, “But you should know…I’m still going to make you ask.”

Match.

James’s tongue poked out to went his bottom lip, hazel eyes blinking. Sirius’s heart rate was beating faster and faster, even as he wedged himself between James’s legs.

What a scene.

They were two people absolutely desperate for one another.

“This is the last time,” James said finally, breaking the silence and standing up so quickly it knocked the kitchen chair backwards. His mouth crashed into Sirius’s, and Sirius didn’t need further permission. His hand palmed the back of James’s head, the other hand pulling James closer to him by his belt buckle.

“Play your cards right and maybe you will end up with a pair of my pajamas you liked so well…” Sirius smirked into James’s mouth, lips brushing against his as he spoke.

“Shut up.”

go to part three

[kingcrow01]

DC/Marvel Pool Noodle Party 2024

Week 5 | Mercs & Murder Husbands

Marc Spector & Harley Quinn, 0 fics!

@dc-marvel-crossovers

Here’s the outline of the event for those interested. TLDR, This event celebrates relationship tags that have less than 30 works on ao3, both platonic and romantic. The rarest of rarepairs!

Inspired by Harley harassing interacting with Marc and Damian in chapter 20 of in labyrinths of reflections by @blackkatmagic, specifically these lines:

“Fuck the hell off,” he growls, and gets a hand on her face as she tries to kiss his mask. She’s wearing a lot of lipstick, and he'd rather not run around the rest of the night with a black lip-print on his face. 

and

Harley blinks at him, big eyes and blond pigtails and smeared makeup that makes her look like a raccoon with a hangover, and then laughs. 

Ho-ly-shit, I cannot begin to express how happy I am with this piece! Initially I was having a hard time with MK’s suit, to the point that I was contemplating just dropping the whole project. (I hate drawing superhero suits, why do I keep on doing this to myself) Like always, all it came down to was retaking my ref and utilizing that handy-dandy line of action, and I finished it pretty easily after that.

Damian was a last minute add-on, and I wanted to draw him on Marc’s right side and a head taller (kids are bigger than you think!) but I ran out of room on the page. I ran into the same problem with Harley’s mallet; I wanted it to be bigger, but with the angle it had to sit at to rest against her thigh, I kept it on the smaller side. 

This piece has made it very clear how limiting my sketchbooks’ size is. For example, I have an idea for another week in this event, but it literally wouldn't fit in this sketchbook so I’m not going to make it. Digital art 1: traditional, 0.

I tried out a new lining style as well, and I’m never going back. Before, I was making every line the same width, but it’s SO much more impactful with alternating line thickness! I attached the lined final sketch below. Do you see how much of a difference it makes?? (Written early May, so I've been using this style since.)

Details:

I think it’s silly that Harley’s boots are covered in blood, but not her actual weapon lol

Harley is as tall as she is because she’s standing on her toes in platform boots

The tattoo on Harley’s midsection is of ivy leaves (though, it’s not poison ivy) as a sort of homage to Ivy. Not that she’s dead or anything. They’re just. Lovers. So, tattoo.

I got to put NO WORK into shading the black parts of MK’s suit, and that was FABULOUS

I wanted to give her colored shoe laces, because I love small details like that. I would love to give characters any color of laces, but some of them seem to have negative meanings, especially on Doc Martens, so I went the safe route and gave her purple laces, which represents gay pride. Yes, I know she’s bisexual, but I felt like I didn’t have many options.

[ilovedilfs-444]

Lingerie 🎀

word count: 1.5k

୨♡୧

All day you had been thinking about the Victoria's Secret bag hidden away in the back of your closet, stashed behind one of your thick fur winter coats where you were sure Frank would not go looking.

Inside the striped bag, was a sexy lace thong and bra set in Frank's favourite colour, black. Baby pink bows adorned the two garments, adding your own personal touch to them.

Frank had been away on a work thing for the past few days, and the loneliness was killing you. Every time he went away on a job, he got a new burner phone, which you were only allowed to contact in case of an emergency, no exceptions.

But tonight was the night he was due home. All you wanted to do right now was order in your favourite takeaway, watch a movie with your boyfriend and then have hot dirty sex all night long.

The more you thought about Frank the more your mind drifted off to that pink striped bag stashed away in your closet. The angel on your shoulder was telling you the outfit you were wearing right now, grey sweatpants and a black crop top, was better and comfier than the sexy underwear set. However, the devil was telling you to go put that set on, add the white heels you knew Frank loved so much and surprise him as he walked in that front door.

You bite your lip just thinking about surprising Frank, having long steamy sex and then lounging around with takeaway food and movies for the rest of the night. The devil on your shoulder had just stomped on the angel's speech as you jumped up from the sofa excitedly and sped off to your bedroom.

You threw off your clothes into a pile in the corner of your bedroom, shoving the rows of shoes away to reveal the bag of goods. Grabbing it and pulling away the tissue paper at the top, you pull out the thong and bra and throw them onto your bed.

Pulling off your own panties, you watch yourself in your mirror, practising your seductive moves in preparation for your boyfriend. After putting on the lacy set, you felt nothing but the definition of sexy.

The white heels you had planned on wearing were suddenly outshone by the platform black heels sitting beside them.

"Hm, eenie meenie mynie... mo!" you point your finger at the black heels and stalk over to them, stepping into them and turning around to see yourself in the wall length mirror.

As your admiring yourself in the mirror, the sound of the old front door creaking open echoes throughout the apartment. You quickly grab the black silk robe hanging in the closet just as you hear Frank call out, "Y/n?"

You use your foot to open the bedroom door, leaning against the frame. You hadn't tied the robe fully, so your sexy underwear set was still on full show for Frank.

He had his back to you when you first saw him, but the squeak from the bedroom door caught his attention. As his eyes met yours, you could practically see the lust spilling out of them.

"Holy..." he mumbles as he pulls his black hoodie off his body. His t-shirt lifted up with the hoodie and you could see his defined abs in the dim living room lighting.

You stalked towards him, dragging your finger up your thigh and pulling up the bottom of your robe slightly. Your hair still lightly curled from the previous day.

"Like what you see?" you smile and stop a few feet in front of him as his eyes roam every inch of your body as if it were his first time seeing you.

"Fuck me.. I... You're so.." he fumbles over his words as he walks towards you, eyes not leaving your body. His brown eyes finally look into yours as he combs his fingers through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear.

"I love you so much," he mumbles as his hands caress their way down your body until they meet your hips, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his boner through his jeans, desperate to be let free.

You grab his hand and lead him towards the bedroom. He follows behind, no doubt staring at your ass or legs, oh how he loves your legs. You push him down onto the edge of the bed, standing in between his muscly thighs.

"And I love you too, Castle." You kiss his lips, softly at first until his hands tug at the shoulders of your robe, dragging it down your body and off your arms. He kisses your neck and chest, his hand groping your boobs. You let out a few soft moans as he kisses further down your chest and stomach. You could now clearly see the outline of his hard cock through his jeans, and decided to help him out.

You drop down to you knees so your face is in-front of his crotch, peering up at him with innocent eyes. You unbutton his jeans and teasingly slow begin to pull his zipper down, holding eye contact the entire time. He lifts his hips for you to pull the jeans down his legs further, and his cock was now tenting his boxers.

You kiss his boner through the thin black material, as your fingers tease at pulling down the band. He lets out quiet grunts as you kiss him, his eyes watching you the entire time. Finally, satisfied with your reading you pull his boxers down his legs and grab his cock. Your hands must've been cold as he jumped slightly when you grabbed him. Your tongue licks up the length of his dick, circling around the tip before taking his whole length in your mouth. When you come back up Frank's head is bent backwards in ecstasy. You repeat this several times until your eyes are full of tears and are sure your mascara is running down your cheeks from the length of him.

You stand back up to your full height and straddle Frank, wrapping your arms around his neck to stable yourself. He places his big hands on your waist and snaps one of the strings of your thong against your skin, a smirk playing on his face.

You move your thong to the side and lower yourself onto his cock, rubbing the head against your clit a few times before Frank guides himself inside of you. You lean your forehead against his as he fills you up, sending butterflies to your stomach. He waits a minute and kisses your lips sensually as you get use to his length, before beginning to bounce up and down on his cock. You moan loudly, not caring if the old woman who loves to make noise complaints about you and Frank, or if anyone walking by the apartment could hear. You were happy right now, and nobody could ruin that for you.

You can feel your thighs beginning to ache and Frank notices too, using his hands to guide you up and down his cock before he grabs hold of you and throws you onto the bed. He kicks off his jeans and boxers that had been around his ankles for the past few minutes.

He stands at the end of the bed and grabs hold of your waist, pulling you down so his cock is rubbing against your clothed pussy. With one swift movement, he grabs hold of the side of your thong and pulls it clean off, earning a gasp from you.

"Frank!" you say in shock but with a smile on your face.

"That's better," he mumbles before placing his hands under your back and unhooking your bra, pulling it away from your body. You sit up on your elbows as he takes in your body. Your beautiful, sexy body.

He grabs your hips and dips his head between your legs, grabbing one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder. He licks a long stripe up your pussy, sending shock waves through your body when he his hot tongue came in contact with your clit.

"Fuck, Frank," you moan and place your hand on the back of his head. He looks up at you as he latches onto your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue across it. It doesn't take long before you can feel your orgasm forming in your stomach. Your grip on Frank's short hair tightens as your knees instinctively try to close the closer you come to your orgasm.

Frank uses his hand to hold down your leg and uses the other hand to finger fuck you. His thick fingers were something you could never get tired of.

"Frank I'm gonna... I'm," you try to mumble out the sentence but he speeds up his fingers and your orgasm untangles through your body, sending waves of pleasure through every inch of you.

Frank climbs further up the bed, using his knee to keep your legs open and lays his arms over your head, trapping you beneath him. His hot breath tickles your ear, sending butterflies straight to your stomach, "Ready for round two?"

[waitineedaname]

shoes in FMA rated on how comfortable they'd be to fight in

Edward Elric

considering Ed's uhhh very distinct taste in aesthetics, these could be a lot worse. they look relatively comfortable and don't seem like they'd be difficult to move around in. they are platforms though, which I imagine makes things more difficult. I'll be generous and give these a 7/10

Most of the Amestrian military

pretty much everyone in uniform wears the same shoes, so I'm lumping them all together. these are Roy's, if that matters. they look fine. I imagine that because it is part of a military uniform, it's designed to be moved around in and worn for hours on end, so ideally they're relatively comfortable. it doesn't look like there's much traction, but they're usually fighting on flat surfaces so whatever. 8/10

Fu and Lan Fan

these shoes fucking rule. the picture I've included is Lan Fan's, but they wear p much the same shoes. I fucking love these things. they have spikes. Edward Elric fucking wishes. considering this seems to be part of the bodyguard uniform, I'd imagine they're as easy to run around in as the military shoes, if not better since they're expected to be doing martial arts in them. but most importantly, they have spikes. 10/10, no notes.

Ling and Mei

on the topic of doing martial arts, both Ling and Mei wear these.... I'm not sure what they are. flats? slippers? it's unclear. (EDIT: they are apparently Kung Fu shoes!) they seem relatively easy to move around in I guess since they're not very cumbersome and both Ling and Mei rely on being very nimble. they look like they have absolutely no support in the soles though, which is gonna get painful after a certain point. also depending on what fabric they're made of, they could definitely start chafing. I've worn flats. I know that hell. 7/10 for the potential blisters, but at least they're designed specifically for martial arts

Greedling and Bradley

it's hard to get a good shot in this scene because neither of them stop moving, but I swear to god, they're fighting in dress shoes. I cannot stand them. this CANNOT be comfortable. I know Greed prioritizes aesthetics over function so this was probably a compromise between his and Ling's tastes but ohhh my god. he was probably wasting so much of the philosopher's stone just passively healing the million blisters on his feet from running around in these things. there's a chance Bradley is wearing the military uniform shoes but I think he was in more formal dress when he got blown the fuck up, so I don't think so. no wonder he complains about being sore, quit running around in dress shoes you fucking moron. 4/10.

Greed

THESE FUCKING THIIIIIIIINGS. WHY ARE THEY POINTY AT THE END. WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE SOMEONE HIT HIS FOOT WITH A MALLET AND FLATTENED THEM. he's so dumb. I love him. looking at these things tells me he would probably wear goth cowboy boots if he could, and tbh that would probably look better. 3/10 for Greed's overall silly as hell fashion sense

Lust

okay. the heels make sense considering her whole vibe. however. these are part of her fucking BODY. when she gets incinerated, they grow back. can she even take them off???? I'm scared to ask. I guess if theyre part of her body, she doesn't have to worry about adjusting to balancing in them like you would normally with heels, but oh my god. she can never wear normal shoes. I would also be murderous if I had to wear heels all the time. 4/10.

Father and Izumi

guys. these are sandals. it has been four hundred years and Father is still wearing the same outfit he was wearing in the damn desert. find a new outfit man. Izumi is apparently wearing bathroom slippers (hence the WC) so idk why she's even wearing those out of the house. Father gets 0/10 and Izumi gets 1/10 because she still manages to kick everyone's asses while wearing these, so respect

Envy

PUT YOUR FUCKING TOES AWAY. -10000000/10

[pepsiconcoction]

oh remembwr when changbin said when he angry all it takes is physical touch or any act of affection for him to turn into putty and how he said hannie instead of being th wfirat to apologise or something just waits with open arms and breaks down when the other person comes to him first WELL IMAGINE A FIC THAT INCORPORATES EITHER OF THESE WITH A LITTLE ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING WITH READER🫢

thank u anon, i will also do the jisung one, so keep an eye out!

Lion Tamer | Seo Changbin x Reader

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

tags: angst, miscommunication? a little suggestive at the end, like one swear word, good ending dw, other member makes an appearance

requested: yes!

wc: 1,130

Changbin is known for his short temper, that’s just a fact. He’s easily antagonised, resulting in some hilarious, unexpected, or very occasionally scary outbursts. He is quick to jump up or shout, and hard to calm down. Not many people have mastered the art of lion taming, but you? You’ve somehow perfected it. It wasn’t a conscious thing you did, but it seems you have some unseen power over him.

Your power was discovered by chance in the JYP dance studio. You had been invited along by your wonderful boyfriend who clearly just wanted to show off, knowing this you agreed anyway. You’d be a hypocrite not to indulge him a little bit, right?

During a 5-minute water break, a conversation had started up about shoes. Particularly, platforms. Now, everyone knows that Stray Kids aren’t exactly the tallest, your boyfriend being the shortest of them all, so you could already feel him become tense from his place next to you on the leather sofa. 

“I don’t like them, they make me feel like my proportions are wrong,” Minho says from his place on the floor, flat on his back, limbs spread.

“I like them, our team needs them.” Felix contributes, resulting in a few laughs.

“Changbin maybe, I’d say the rest of us are fine.” Minho raises his head, smirking at Changbin.

“Hey! You’re not that much taller!”

“Yeah? Stand up.” Minho doesn’t move. Changbin takes the challenge, sputtering, and stands up. He goes to walk towards Minho who is still starfished, but you grab his hand.

“Sit down, Bin.” You chuckle. He stops in his tracks and plops down next to you immediately, holding your hand properly.

“Did you see that?” Hyunjin says, throwing his head back laughing.

“Yeah,” Jeongin speaks up. “Y/n has some serious powers.”

This results in some laughter around the room while Changbin looks at you, eyes creased with an open grin.

“How am I supposed to say no?” He chuckles, and takes your hand in both of his, squeezing it gently.

Your powers also work in more serious instances. Like the time Changbin thought you were cheating on him, accosting you the moment he got home from the studio.

“Y/n, you have some explaining to do,” he said, entering your shared living room where you had been sitting, peacefully reading.

“What?” you blinked up at him.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not stupid.”

“Bin, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t, of course, you don’t.” He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. If you weren’t so confused, you’d be ogling his arms in the tight black t-shirt he’s wearing.

“I really don’t. Can you tell me what I’ve apparently done?” You put your phone down next to you on the sofa.

“You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should’ve just said something.” That shocked you into closing your mouth. 

“If you wanted to see other people, I wouldn’t stop you. Well, I would, I’d definitely try but if you really wanted to break up I couldn’t stop you. I’d be pissed though because I love you so much and I thought our relationship was practically perfect. And we’re usually so good at communicating so I’m upset that you couldn’t just tell me what’s wrong, or what happened for you to have a change of heart. But seriously, a fucking soft launch on your insta? That’s just shitty.”

Soft launch? Insta? Oh.

You stand up, keeping a relaxed posture and facial expression.

“So are you going to leave? Because if you are, I want my hoodies back, especially the navy one, it’s my favourite one.” He’s slowly getting louder.

Honestly, he’s kind of cute when he’s ranting. You stifle a laugh, taking a step into his space.

“Oh, so you’re laughing at me now? Oh, yes! Let’s laugh at Changbin! Ha! Ha! Ha! So fun-” 

You cut him off by grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him in for a kiss. His mouth doesn’t really react but his hands do instinctively come to your sides. 

“Sorry, I had to get you to shut up.” You pull back, meeting a very emotionally conflicted Changbin.

“Bin. First of all, I’m not leaving you. Second of all, I didn’t soft launch. That was my cousin. He joined me and my aunt for lunch because he is in town at the minute. And lastly, you are so cute when you’re jealous.”

You get a front-row seat to the cogs turning in his head. You watch as his eyes widen and his face flushes a bright shade of red. You throw your head back laughing, still holding the sides of his head. The hands holding you have tightened their grip now, and he’s ducking his head down to hide in your neck.

“I am so sorry. I should be ashamed. Actually.” He cuts himself off and falls to his knees in front of you, arms unwrapping from around you to clasp them together as if he were praying.

“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. A thousand times over. Hey, stop laughing, I’m trying to apologise. I should never have assumed anything,” he says. You catch your breath and look down at him, instantly bringing a hand to run through his hair. His hands return to you, pulling you into him, and he buries his face in your stomach, mumbling more apologies.

“Changbin, please, look at me.” You use your leverage on his hair to force him to look up. He looks up at you with big eyes.

“Get up.” You giggle. He immediately stands. 

“It’s okay, I can understand why you thought that, but you are also super dumb for even thinking that I’d do that in the first place. Why would I ever leave you?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, shrugging.

“Exactly, I have no intention to ever leave my wonderful, adorable, handsome-”

“Sexy.”

“Uh-huh, sexy, smart, kind, and sometimes jealous boyfriend.” You smile up at him, putting your hands on his shoulders. He ducks his head into your neck once more.

“I really am sorry, you know.” 

“I know you are.” 

You feel his arms tighten around you in a strong hug and the two of you stay there for a few seconds as he sways the two of you gently.

“Okay, grovelling over,” he says suddenly standing up straight, dazing you slightly. He suddenly grabs you, easily throwing you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” You nearly shout as he begins to move.

“Making it up to my wonderful, understanding, sexy girlfriend! Unless she has any complaints with the proposition?” he replies, and that’s when you realise you’re headed in the direction of the bedroom, and you throw your head back laughing again.

“No complaints here!”

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!) : @lethallyprotected

[redr0sewrites]

Hi! I absolutely loved your lucifer x punk reader and was wondering if you could do a gn punk reader but with Velvette please?

nonnie i hope u know that u absolutely made my year with this request i NEED more velvette reqs she is my guilty pleasure

🥀 Cw: fluff, slightly suggestive at the end

Velvette is absolutely the type of person to LOVE having an alternative s/o

she def finds anyone with a unique style intriguing, and once she actually met you she fell hard

def inspired a clothing line or two after you before you both even became official

she would also ask you to model and would ask for your opinion on designs!!!!! ur def her muse in a way, and she LOVES dressing you up in spunky outfits and designing new outfits just for you

velvette just loves dressing you up, and loves going out together when you're both dressed to the MAX in full aesthetic outfits

shes so good at doing hair and makeup too, URGRHRH imagine her sitting on your lap and doing your eyeliner for you or putting liberty spikes in your hair...

if your super into DIY or patch vests, pants, etc Velvette LOVEESSSS helping you make clothes

she will make patches and pins for you to wear!

velvette def has you show her some of the DIY tricks you know, and she shows you some in return

YALL ABSOLUTELY DEFINITELY POSITIVELY HAVE MATCHING OUTFITS

all of hell starts to see even more alternative and punk influence in fashion once you both become OFFICIAL official

velvette also announces it on practically every social media platform possible that you both are together, she loves showing you off and she is NEVER the type to be ashamed of her partner

you both def make those alt couples goals videos, and if anyone ever hits on you velvette will conveniently post blurry photos of you both making out the next day on her sinstagram

she shows up to important meetings and work events with you both in your spunky matching fits

you both heavily believe in being fashionably late and def help eachother get ready (but it ends up taking longer bc she just can't help but kiss you over and over while you're trying to do eyeliner, and you are definitely no help when she's struggling to choose which accessory to wear)

she's already a huge advocate for change in the way hell is run, and you both bond over your anti-authoritarian ideals

velvette does what she wants and nobody can tell her otherwise, and teh same goes for you. she genuinely admires that you really don't care what others think about you and you're style, and was def attracted to that aspect of your personality before you both even dated

LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME SHE WOULDNT ADORE FEMINIST ROCK LIKE SHE WOULD EAT THAT SHIT UP

you both love bikini kill, hole, x ray spex, destroy boys, JOAN JETT, all of that genre

she probably knew about punk music before she met you, but you def introduced her to it more

velvette loves long car rides where you're BLASTING music and screaming it at the top of your lungs while chains and hair is flying everywhere as you tear down the road speed limit where

if you wear lots of chains she def tugs on them to pull you into kisses and pulls you in by the belt too... (i want to make a drabble about this soooo bad)

all in all, yall r a POWER COUPLE lmao

"babe, what about this?" Velvette twirled you around, adjusting some of the pins on your vest before turning you towards the large, illuminated mirror that covered one side of the messy dressing room. music played in the background, filling the room with guitar riffs and breathy solos. discarded fabrics and chains covered the floor, all remnants of Velvette's past designs.

"damn, this looks sick as fuck!" you exclaim, giving a little twirl to show off the distressed patterns and chunky shoes. Velvette nodded approvingly, stepping towards you with a smirk. she reached out, hooking her finger through your belt and pulling you into a kiss. her tongue slipped past your lips, exploring the cavern of your mouth as the kiss grew more steamy. "fuck you're so hot," she murmured against your lips, her lip stick was smearing across your skin as she pressed hasty kisses and nipped at your hawline. "i adore dressing you up," she whispered, pulling you in closer, "but i love undressing you even more..."

SHES SOOOOOOO RAHAWHAHGWGGGGGG i need more velvette contentttttttttt