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#they're plastic not leather
hidefdoritos · 6 months
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in other news, today I bought new boots
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roseband · 5 months
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If it’s alright with you, could you share a photo of your planned outfits because they sound very cute!! :>
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left with black tights was what i was planning, but right is probably what i'm wearing cause those pants have 7 pockets lol
also i LOVE posting outfit pics cause i have a thrift shopping problem!!!!!
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baron-von-tibbles · 8 months
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don't put people on pedestals etc. but are vegans contractually obliged to be the dumbest cunts on planet earth or does the diet just rot their brains?
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coffeeworldsasaki · 11 months
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My mother went on a hunt for one of those shitty tiny handbags that have no purpose in life in the boxes but to do that she opened the bags box and I found this
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IT'S THE PERFECT SIZE FOR MY EREADER
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samotnya · 1 year
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Christ why is it so hard to find alternative platform boots made from genuine leather and not fucking plastic????
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rubiatinctorum · 1 year
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i have, with the addition of a pair of boots, completed my years long collection quest of practical* shoes that Fuck
converse that i got for 4 bucks in january 2017, beat up as fuck but the more beat up converse look the sexier they are that's the rules. new converse are sexless but beat to shit converse have rizz. i have another black pair with piano key laces they fuck also
work shoes (aka 2.5 year old pair of black leather penny loafers that look kinda beat to shit and are turning greenish on the top). most comfortable shoe 10/10
cute little heeled shoe but it's very grandmother style. also leather. very mild heel. clark's makes very grandmother kinda heels and those are the best (one pair in light brown one pair in dark brown because i get a kick out of paying 10 bucks thrifted each for originally 160 dollar pairs of shoes)
black leather ballet flats bc in the summers my go-to-shoe around home is 'closest pair of flats' and also they're less hazardous on stairs than other shoes
light brown leather penny loafers because penny loafers are the hottest loafers and they match my purse. and bc brown looks really good on me
[NEW!] brown leather riding boots with a clicky sounding heel, that go up to my knees and look a bit worn on the tips (sexiest boot alive) (makes me wish i could ride a horse)
(*I love impractical shoes that fuck also but i cannot own them from reasons ranging from i fall down too much to where the fuck would i wear this to this is sadly a fireable offense)
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flamejob · 2 years
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my most comfy pair of platform are coming apart this is so fucked
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teaboot · 1 year
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One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.
You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.
We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.
After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.
How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.
The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.
You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.
I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.
I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.
You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.
I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.
It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.
She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.
"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.
"Steve Harrington."
"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"
"Oh, er--just me, actually."
Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"
Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."
So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.
Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.
"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"
Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"
Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Little bit," Steve smiles.
"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.
"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."
"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.
After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.
---
Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.
He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
"You alright, man?" Steve asks.
Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."
His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."
He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"
He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.
"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.
Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.
---
It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.
Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.
He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.
Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.
"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.
"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.
"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."
Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.
He is so weird.
---
In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.
Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.
Flirting with her is easy.
He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.
It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"
Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.
It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.
"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.
He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.
Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.
---
They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.
They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.
Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.
Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.
A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.
Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.
Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.
He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.
He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.
---
When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Have you seen my notebook?"
"What?" Steve's heart drops.
"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"
"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.
"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.
Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.
"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.
They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.
"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."
"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.
The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.
Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.
"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.
"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."
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altfire-archive · 2 years
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all my friends think im fucking stupid 😔
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jmtorres · 2 years
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jfc they're doing "vegan" cashmere as well as "vegan" leather now. cashmere doesn't cause the animal to die???? it's shearing like wool, just very fine soft fiber
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and what pray tell is "vegan" cashmere
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plastic, plastic, recycled plastic, stretchy plastic, and a touch more stretchy plastic.
it's just about fuckin red heart
if you care about the environment at least go for bamboo rayon??? like it's chemically beat to hell and gone to make it smooth but it at least came from a plant not crude oil.
eta: in case anyone is stumbling across the original post and not a reblog somehow: I don't blame people who are vegan for this and it's kind of shitty to see so much hatefulness towards vegans in the notes. I blame corporate marketing for co-opting the term vegan and polluting its meaning.
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bonny-kookoo · 8 months
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Jungkook
X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 3
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If you gave him your heart, your soul, your body- what would he do to those things? Maybe it's time to see if he can handle your love for once, and not just the other way around.
Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, mild Angst, fluff, slow burn but we'regetting somewhere, they have mad chemistry but mc has trust issues, mentions of past domestic abuse (mental), Outercourse (basically non-penetrative sex except with a dildo), toys, Cumplay, it's messy smh, hand kink? Increased authority from kook
Length: ~5k words
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡
A/N: you'll never be able to imagine how much I struggled reconnecting with this fic. This was torture. I hated this fic so much at some point. I'm not proud of this part but if I don't get this out I'll never be able to continue this series.
-> Masterlist
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Jungkook has really nice hands.
Not just in a sensual or sexual sense, but in general. They're big but not intimidating, because the way he uses them is never in a mean or hurtful way. They're soft, and kind, and they also look very nice. Masculine, and strong, veins underneath the skin sometimes a bit more visible than other times, but they also hold a certain softness to them. His nails are well taken care of, only his thumb sometimes giving you a hint of a nervous habit.
They're uniquely Jungkook. Rough, but not to be feared. Gentle, but with the potential to lead. Capable. Handsome.
They're his main way of exploring your skin too- his fingers often used to make shivers run up your spine, palms warm as they feel every curve of you. He doesn't need to look at what he's doing ever it seems like, hands having minds of their own every time they touch you.
Like a separate entity almost, listening obediently to their master's command.
You slowly wake up from your nap, feeling actually refreshed, when Jungkook walks in from the door, giving you a hint to what must've woken you up. "Oh- You're up." He smiles, walking closer with a plastic bag, though his first mission is to press his hands into the softness of the couch before he kisses your cheek. "Here- let me show you something." He impishly chuckles, sitting down on his shins, before he opens the bag on the bed.
You're in a state of shock for a good moment, not even having noticed him move.
He's got the audacity to laugh over your shoulder, front pressed into your back, hands teasing your sides as they sneak up your loose shirt.
"Bought one that's about my size." He purrs sensually, almost like he's mocking you. But it's not malicious- playful, if anything, but not mean in any way. "So you can call it.. practice." He explains, while you stare at the nearly clear pink dildo that's staring at you, still packaged together with other things in the black plastic bag in your lap.
"Jungkook.. when did you even buy those things?" You wonder, feeling almost scared to touch any of the things inside.
"Earlier, when you were napping." He shrugs easily, hand reaching past your body to shamelessly dump the contents of the bag on the bed, bag flying somewhere on the floor. "Anything look like an absolute no-go to you?" He asks curiously, and you look without touching.
There's an egg-shaped item there you're not too sure of what it might be. The dildo explains itself, clearly- and the other massage wand is also pretty self-explanatory. There's two bottles of lube- one pink, the other blue. A.. plug, with a pretty pink gemstone on one end of it. Leather handcuffs, with soft looking fur on the inside. Overall, nothing immediately makes you uncomfortable.
You don't know what gives you the confidence for your next comment you blurt out though. "Don't you have any toys?" You ask him bluntly. "Like, for yourself? Or do you just.. use your partner's body for stuff?" You wonder, and he looks at you with a sharp gaze, a smirk growing on his lips.
"I wouldn't mind using your body, that's for sure." He flirts, leaning his head a bit to the side. "Why would I need toys if I've got you?" He fakes innocence as he asks that question without expecting any answer- And for a moment, you don't give one.
But something about his flirty comment bothers you.
Maybe because you hear someone else in your head again- all the men who've degraded you over the course of time. Your ex. Your friends. Your father. You hear them laugh yet again like you're pathetic and worth nothing.
"I don't want to be used." You deny with a flat tone, and it's clear from the slight change in his eyes that he's now on high alert at your every word spoken by mouth and body language, so he can figure out what happened to change your mood like that. "I don't just want to be.. a toy you get bored off and toss away at some point just to pick it back up once you're interested again." You say, drawing a clear line.
You're not sure how he might react to this. You didn't want to make a statement like that, but you can't mask the truth. You really are scared of getting hurt at the end of this- you don't want him to just play around and then let you go.
You don't want to go. You want to stay- You want him to want you to stay.
He says your name to gain your attention, voice low and steady, horribly gentle- and it makes your eyes sting as you realize that this is the first time a man has ever spoken in such a tone to you. He notices the way your eyes begin to gloss over- and it hurts him too, the fact that you're hurting.
"This isn't just something fun to me. I think I might not have made it clear." He says, staying away from you as to not invade your little bubble you're in, letting you have your safety. "I don't know what happened to you in the past to be so full of distrust towards anything good offered to you-" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "-but I promise you, this isn't just a game to me."
"Then what is this." You say quietly, scared. "I'm scared that we're not on the same page here and that we're walking down to entirely separate paths." You complain pitifully with your back hunched over and head hanging low.
"That's because we are." He chuckles softly. "I'm trying to hold your hand here so we don't lose each other- but you're not holding it." Jungkook offers.
"I don't understand-" you shake your head, when as you look up again, his face is right in front of yours, eyes looking at your lips.
"Then let me help you." He hums towards you, before his lips press onto yours. And your body freezes.
Because he's never kissed you like this before- tender, calm and without any lust in it whatsoever. In fact, your realize only now that you've never been kissed without any hidden intentions or something to gain in mind. This kiss is soft, it's no words needed, it's love confessed in physical form. You've never been kissed like this. Ever.
And even more so, you're pretty sure he hasn't actually kissed you at all either- not until now, at least.
And it's all so confusing now, because you want to trust him, you want to just lean into him and let him have his way with you- but the fear inside you is still there, clutching your limbs, leaving you with no way to move anywhere- neither away from him, nor closer. You're currently stuck in place, and it's only a matter of time until he grows tired of you and your constant push and pull behavior.
You're hurting him, you know this.
Especially because you're kissing him back, giving him hope for something you might not be able to give him. You're cruel, aren't you? And the worst is that he probably knows even that.
Because once you start to cry, once you sob and cling to him like a touch-starved pet, letting all of those pent up emotions out because who cares, he doesn't say anything, doesn't ask what's wrong. He just holds you, gives you that moment, keeps your pieces collected in his palms for you to put back together later with his help. And you're not sure how many times you can do this.
Or how long he's willing to participate in this.
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Since Jungkook didn't make a move the entire morning, you've been spending it entertaining yourself as to not get bored. Not in a sexual way-
but by simply trying to see how strong his patience is.
It's a new feeling you've developed after just two days of being with him- confidence, and trust in that he won't ever hurt you whatsoever. No consequences he could come up with would ever truly put you in harms way, you absolutely believe in that. But what's disappointing was how he didn't ever get past a clench of his jaw, or a tilt of his head. He'd just.. let you do whatever, and never do anything to somehow discipline you.
It made you wonder. Is he even such an intimidating 'Dom' at all, or did he just make that up?
However, after talking about it after lunch, he's finally opened up to you too- having told you that he's gonna trust you too, that he'll be more open with you and his own desires, while you'll have to be honest about when he's going too far or too fast. And you agree- you want him to trust you too, want him to relax more around you as well.
After all, he wants to get to know you too, right? Not just the other way around.
What you did not take into account though, is that now, your actions actually will have consequences- and he will indeed put you back into your place in one way or another. And even if in that very moment where you piss him off he isn't reacting- he will remember those actions to remind you of them, later, when you don't even expect it.
Just like now, as he's finished some calls he had to make, finally finding time again for you. "I'm sorry- I technically told the studio not to contact me on my break." He hums into your hair, as you sit with him on the small sofa in his office, having practically demanded his attention back on you the moment he'd put his phone down, and he'd been visibly amused by it. Unbeknownst to you, he's more than just excited- after all, it feels like your week is finally gaining traction, as you no longer step around in the dark trying to navigate around obstacles that aren't even there.
He's just been too scared to scare you. But by now, it's clear that you're not. And it makes him eager to explore now that he can actually see where he's going with you.
There's a hand under your shirt, cropped top and cotton shorts nothing more than decoration really, considering he's already seen you naked. It's nothing too sensual technically- but at this point, you feel like something might be wrong with you. Because even a simple touch like this makes you.. needy.
He reaches over to the side, plastic bag rustling- and now you're actually starting to get antsy. Because there's only one bag next to the couch- the one that's containing all the different items Jungkook had bought this morning as he'd told you. And that's exactly what he's grabbing for it seems like, as he moves his arms a little to take out one of the items you weren't too sure about- already unpacked for some reason, as he holds it out for your hand to take.
"What is that?" You ask, fingers running over the smooth, silicone surface, while he chuckles behind you, since you're still halfway laying against his chest.
"Something I always wanted to try." He simply jokes. "It's really fun, according to a friend of mine. I've never used it with anyone before, but I think you might like it.." He hums, taking the toy away from you again, before his free hand pats your thigh once. "..scoot to the side for me, yeah?" He asks, and you do so, sitting next to him now while watching how he finally reveals what this.. object might be used for.
He has to adjust the belts multiple times to fit around his thigh, plastic clipping into place, before his eyes find yours, lips turned into a suspicious smirk. "Alright.." He starts, leaning back against the couch, and it's obvious that he's now demanding respect and most of all, your obedience. He points at a spot in front of him, and without words, you know exactly what he wants you to do, his expression one of almost.. pride, as he watches you stand in front of him, instinctually knowing what to do.
"Undress." He simply says, a straightforward command that you follow easily, because shame is something that you refuse to let yourself feel. He's not one you need to be hesitant with- he's promised you his honesty, after all, and he's promised you that even if things get awkward, it'll never change his view on you.
And his view of you is one of love, that's very clear to see and feel.
So it's not weird to stand in front of him all bare, clothes on a small pile next to your feet now, as he smiles. "Come here." He urges with a softer voice, having clearly realized that you've accepted his invitation into a scene now- for the first time not having needed any cues. "Take a seat, princess." He almost teases, and you do so, sitting on the soft silicone toy hugging his thigh.
It's pastel colored, multiple hues swirling together into one another, creating wave like patterns. "There you go... So pretty." He chuckles, hands running over the length of your arms, causing goosebumps to erupt from the sensation of his warm palms. He's feeling your skin a lot more sensually now, clear intentions as he touches your hips and waist, thumbs almost massaging the skin of your lower stomach, moving from the inside towards your hipbones before repeating the action.
His hands are so close to where you'd love to have them, and yet, you try and be patient. Because if you're good, he'll reward you, right?
It doesn't take long for you to notice the way your arousal makes movement a lot easier- your core by now slipping around with every little jerk of your hips, making you anxious to move more. And finally, as his fingers grip your hips, he gets into a more comfortable position himself- the unoccupied leg casually stretched out, while his back rests against the sofa, giving him a good position to watch you. "Show me how those hips can move." He urges, and you instantly take that invitation, slowly moving to test the waters.
You don't care what you look like, or about the wet sounds coming from the toy between your legs- because the feeling is insane.
He clearly let's you enjoy yourself for now, giving you free reign to figure out yourself how you like it. Your hips are squirming from side to side, ridges and bumps of the toy an odd but definitely pleasant sensation as you roll your core over it, uncaring of your arousal already leaking onto his grey sweatpants.
And neither does he care.
Watching you chase your own pleasure on his leg is just such a treat to witness- especially when he holds onto you, before he lifts his foot, forcing you down onto the toy without any warning, earning a surprised whimper from between your lips as he lets you down- just to repeat the motion a couple of times, simply to entertain himself. You're just too cute, even while doing such a sinful act. And especially when you clearly reach your orgasm is when he truly can't help himself-
hands guiding your hips to keep moving despite your clear sensitivity, just to see you struggle a little, thighs trembling and hands gripping his arms.
He's letting you lean against him, hips occasionally moving just a little, clearly still needy to feel more- and he's actually quite surprised when your hand curiously runs over the inside of his thigh, hesitating just shy of his very obvious erection that's only somewhat contained in his underwear and sweats. "You can touch me, you know?" He chuckles, making you look up at him. "I'm all yours." He tells you, and it feels like he's offering more than just his body to you.
But you don't get to think for long, because he's already helping you lay down on your back on the leather couch, unclipping the toy from his leg before he looms over you, hand running through your legs. "You didn't think I've forgotten, right?" He chuckles darkly, while his hand explores your still clenching core.
"You don't think I'm just letting you act like a brat and not put you into your place?" He purrs, leaning back on his heels, before he takes out something from the bag, his phone as well from the table close by. You're pulling back your legs, unaware that you're still exposed to him, lower lips plump and red from the friction of the toy, skin glistening with your arousal.
It's playing right into his desires, seeing you so clueless about your own appeal.
You're watching him press a hidden button on the toy, the pink object buzzing to life once, red light blinking while he taps away on his phone. "Oh~" He hums, trying out somethin it seems like, as the toy buzzes in different patterns before it stills again. "Interesting.. That'll be fun in the future." He chuckles, before he leans over you, kissing you with playful intent.
You're not sure what he's up to when he pushes your legs back down to stretch out, running the smooth object between your legs to cover it in your slick. "You're always so worried you can't take it.." He teases, looking right at you before you notice him push the object inside-
the egg shaped vibrator slipping right in, almost suddenly, core taking it inside greedily- only the elongated part staying outside, something resting right on your clit. "Oh?" He jokes, brows raised. "Where'd it go?" He jokes, making you laugh now, entire nature of this whole scene awfully light in that moment, lifting your overall tenseness entirely at this point. And for a moment, all is fun and games-
until he leans back, sits down in the corner of the couch, finger on his phone suddenly doing something-
The toy inside you buzzing to live, and not on an easy setting, that's for sure. He's obviously amused by the way you squirm, hips jerking whenever you move in a way that forces the part resting against you to move. And he's having the time of his life, trying out different settings and rhythms while watching you suffer under his antics.
"You still need to learn." He chuckles, watching your legs jerk whenever the piece that's resting over your clit moves just slightly. "I don't have to touch you to gain my fill." He says, simply scanning your body with a warm, hooded gaze. "Hm? You've had such a smart mouth the entire day." He coos, almost feigning innocence as he looks at you racing towards your final high-
Generously turning down the intensity so that it's not that harsh.
You're slowly catching your breath, when his lips tilt upwards, and his finger taps around- buzzing intensifying again, catching you off guard, causing a yelp to escape you as your hips lift off the couch.
This is too much. Or not enough? You can't take this, there's something strange happening with your body as it moves without your permission, turning over into all fours, front laying down as your hands frantically touch the inside of your thighs.
And Jungkook relishes in the scene you present to him, because there's a reason your fingers hesitate to touch your core, and he knows it.
You can't take it out. Not physically- that you can, if you really wanted to- but mentally. You know he's put it there, and he's the one in control. This is your punishment, and in an odd moment of realization, you accept it, thighs trembling as your body reaches yet another, warmer orgasm that causes you to cry out, voice sounding foreign to your own ears as your hips jerk, your knees pressed into the leather below the only thing holding you upright-
Or maybe it's Jungkook, who's leaning over your back, arm keeping your front elevated as it rests against your collarbone.
When did he move?
When did he shed his top?
Your core feels empty, and your legs feel wet. Is ge not wearing pants anymore? You can feel something touch you, hot and heavy against your thigh, and it must be him.
You want him. Where'd that toy go that was inside you seconds ago?
You’re still breathing heavily, cheeks still wet from the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes. Your lashes are still coated in them, wet and heavy, when Jungkook kisses your neck from behind you, a reminder that he’s still there.
Just like he always promises. He never let’s you feel lonely.
“That's it.” He praises. “Hold onto me like that. I’ll keep your body safe while you let go.” He chuckles, and only now do you notice the iron grip you have on his forearm over your chest, nails digging into his skin. You feel a bit bad for it.
Though you just lessen your strength a bit, not letting go.
Suddenly, his other arm moves, grabs something out of sight, before he runs the object through your slick-coated cunt and thighs, covering it in your arousal before it prods at your still clenching hole.
“You think I won’t fit?” He purrs against your neck, and you swallow thickly, a strange cocktail or anticipation and worry mixing in your body. “You think I won’t claim this cunt as mine at the end of this week?” He asks again, and you can feel the wave if cool excitement wash over you- starting at your very neck, before it ends in the tips of your toes.
“I’ll teach your body to take me..” He almost chuckles, pushing the very tip of the clear pink toy inside, before he moves it back out- Pushing it in a little further each time. “I’ll make sure to get you all ready for me..” he hums sensually, by now having learned of your little kinks you have, as the hand from his arm still keeping your upper body pressed against his own finds one of your tits, groping the soft flesh before his thumb flicks the sensitive bud once to see you squirm.
“I won’t let you forget any of this.” He threatens almost, and you whine when you feel him push the toy even further now.
You feel so full. How much more is there to go?
“Jung-” you whine pitifully, eyes closed as your hips can’t stay still, all of it a stark difference to the fast paced, almost aggressive orgasm he’s given you just moments prior. “I cant-” you start, and he laughs.
“Oh you can.” He tells you, before he gives the toy another push. “And you will.” He purrs, and its then that you feel the base of the toy against your lower lips.
You swear you can feel it in your stomach- and for some odd reason, you like it.
"You're made for me." He chuckles, kisses at your neck and cheek before he bites, toy leaving your cunt with only the tip before he moves it back in, feeling of a Rollercoaster ride making your insides jump and eyes roll back. You can't think anymore, you can only feel- and right now, you feel just so used in the best kind of way.
Somehow, he makes your worst nightmares come true- but they're not nightmares anymore, just dreams, vibrant and pleasant. Exciting. New.
It could be so easy to replace the toy with himself right now- but he doesn't, because that's one of his own rules he will never break. Your trust in him is precious, it's a gift- and he won't tarnish that by simply being greedy for more than you want to offer.
"Jung.." you huff, swallowing down saliva before you can say anything at all. "Jungkook-.. please-" you beg, unsure how to phrase it.
"What is it?" He asks, moves to nuzzle your neck so softly- a stark contract to his constant push and pull with the clear pink dildo he's using to give you a taste of his own length one day doing the same. Filling you up. Probably even better? You can imagine him all warm and slicked up from your wetness, stretching you open and making you feel so full you can hardly breathe.
"More.. f- faster-" you request. "Please?" You add on, and he chuckles.
"See?" His breath fans over your neck. "You can be such a good girl." He teases, pressing the replica as deep as it can reach inside you, base pushing against your skin. "Where were your manners today?" He wonders. "Will I always have to ruin this cunt to remind you where your place is?" He asks, and you nod, shamelessly so.
"Yes!" You whimper, mind somewhere else by now entirely as you struggle to keep yourself still. "Yes- I.. I forget-" you huff out, and he laughs as he runs his lips over your shoulder, piercing a distinct contrast to his softer lips.
"Then let me remind you, darling." He hums against your jot and sweating skin. "You're mine, in this moment. And I decide what to do with you... or to you." He tells you, and you nod, legs quivering.
Only for him to move the toy back to have it slip out, hole gaping at him, closing around nothing. The sigh is everything he ever needed or wanted- cunt all red and flushed, lower lips swollen and glistening, and he has to imagine his own seed staining your skin, mixing with your own arousal staining the couch and your legs.
His cock twitches at the sight, a drop of precum escaping him without control.
But what he does have control over is the rest of himself, as he pushes the toy back inside, causing your toes to curl, especially once he moves it in a faster, steadier pace. It short-circuits your brain, everything around you smelling of sex as he uses the replica to give you a taste of what he could give you.
Your arousal foams up around the base of the pink silicone, creating a ring of white as you cream up from his pace.
The orgasm you reach from this is different, as if it happens somewhere else in your body- though his hand is quick to flick your sensitive pearl to send you off with a proper goodbye, soil leaving your body as you quiver and lose all control one last time, body giving out as he lets you lay down now, muscles twitching from the overuse.
And it only takes him one good pump on his own cock to make him spurt his release onto your back, where his lips kiss up your spine in his post-orgasmic fever.
He's drunk off of you. He's never even had full on sec with you yet- and he's already addicted.
You've got no idea what you're doing to him.
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
In the bathtub, his hand is a lot softer as it runs over your body, cleaning you and nurturing this blossoming feeling you're growing for him.
You're both back from your respective highs, world slowly bleeding back into reality as you simply exist in the warm water for now. "Was that alright?" He asks you, and you nod.
"It was.. new." You say, voice echoing in the bathroom, together with the sound of water sloshing everytime he moves. "I didn't think I'd enjoy what you did- but I did."
"How so?" He wonders, wanting to know hour thoughts now that your brain is functional again. Feedback is important now more than ever after all- he has to still figure out how to navigate this new experience with you.
"I thought.. it would feel, you know, degrading." You explain. "To be used." You clarify, and he nods, carefully moving your hair to see the side of your face better. "But it didn't. It felt more.. as if I was.. of service? Is that the right word?" You wonder, and he chuckles.
"Its how I feel in my position as well, you know." He answers. "Knowing that what I offer gives you pleasure.. is enough for me." He shrugs, and you stretch your legs, cramps finally letting up. "You looked so pretty.." he teases, and you whine.
"I was crying like a baby!" You argue, turning around a bit-
Though you're caught off guard by the terribly soft look he offers you, hand reaching out to hold your cheek.
"Thats because you are my baby." He says-
Making you cry once more.
◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇
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phoenixyfriend · 8 months
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Whenever an existing faux product is described as "vegan product" my hackles raise.
It's not vegan leather, it's pleather.
It's not vegan butter, it's margarine.
It's not vegan cashmere, it's acrylic.
It's not vegan fur, it's faux fur. Also probably an acrylic or rayon blend.
It's not vegan silk, it's polyester.
We haven't gotten to calling vegetable shortening "vegan lard" yet, but given the butter situation...
Call a spade a spade and stop greenwashing! Just admit it's plastic! Just admit you've prioritized one kind of animal life over the other! Stop calling it vegan when it's just plastic, you're driving people to destroy the planet with the "more moral" option when it's NOT.
You can enjoy margarine, that's fine, just be up front about it being in the dish so people know what they're eating by a familiar name.
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I don't think non-New Yorkers know how funny Miles and Wiles having Jordans is.
Like it's REALLY funny and really Brooklyn - New York of him.
Miles, Wiles, and Jordan Sneakers - Clever Cultural Characterisation
[A MEDIUM length post were I talk about Brooklyn Sneaker Culture and it's use in ATSV]
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Have you ever wondered -
Why is Miles the only one wearing branded clothing?
When all other brands are either spoofed or replaced, why is Miles - the main character wearing such VERY BLATANTLY branded sneakers?
And why is Nike, a random shoe brand, the choice to go with?
There's a reason the creators show Miles' creativity and personality through his shoes.
And it's because
JORDANS HAVE A CHOKEHOLD - on Black Guys in High School from NYC
And this might be bizarre to some and idk if it translates to other black communities- (please tell me if it does)
But here in Brooklyn, almost every masc guy in my high school was OBSESSED with Jordans. Most guys I knew can name certain releases by looking at them, and had multiple pairs in different colors
JORDANS WERE LIKE SOCIAL CURRENCY - from middle school all the way to college. And it's a very cultural thing here in Brooklyn.
What colors you had and how many are something you bragged about. Many guys own multiple different colorways of Jordan's and will WAIT in line hours for a new release.
There's a store call Flight Club here in the city, and sometimes you'll see the line going out the door, of well dressed black guys waiting for the new release of Nikes to start going on sale.
Of course Adidas is popular, but no where near the culture hold as Nike to us.
I remember begging my parents for like a week until they brought me Black Air Force 1s
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And I STILL have them over ten years later. They're too small, but they're holding up well. And even until this day, my home town is lined with sneaker stores. There's one around the corner from me rn.
Here it really is natural for guys LOVE JORDANS and to use them as a form of self expression. It's not odd for Fashion is on the minds of black guys in Brooklyn.
Even in high school, guys were matching their outfits and always trying to get the latest brand name. Mind you, this is an inner-city school full of 98% low income black kids. For us that was a social language.
Some shoes even have their own 'personalities' tied to them:
For example:
Black Air Force 1s (the one above) are often called 'hit a lick' shoes. Hitting a lick means to rob someone. So there's this idea that if you have those on you about that action lol it's an chill inside joke though it isn't serious.
White Air Forces are seen for guys who DON'T do that because they're too worried about getting their white ass shoes so clean.
Keep the above in mind for the next part
Hair cuts - like shape-ups and fades, Backpacks, and Shoes are three big things that were a fashion influence in my high school HARD.
Trends also are a big thing here, and they come on really quickly. I remember for maybe four years a brand called Sprayground got big, and after all SO many high school kids started collecting these $80 bags in all different colors. I wanted one so bad.
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A lot of them had illustrations of things like money or weed.
If you see a mfer with the shark mouth bookbag RUN he's the biggest fuckboy you've ever met.
Which is to say - !42 WOULD HAVE ONE OF THESE BAGS
Guys get SO INTO THEM
How many of the iconic orange boxes that you lined up in your room (yes they keep them) was something you boasted about.
MFers would deadass have this in the corner of their room and bring you over talking about sum 'it's decor' SIR IT'S A HOARDING ADDICTION
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They'll walk different, and NEVER squat, because doing that might crease the leather along the toe box. And creased Jordans are not fresh so what's the point - they're ruined. A guy in my class use to being plastic bags and tie them around his ankles when it rained then he walked home.
Like look at this Reddit post I found -
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'is he stupid' 😭😭that's so mean but like here EVERY guy just assumes you know not to do that to Jordans ever
And that's why the creators do it - AND THEY DO IT WELL
And it's so impressive their deep understanding of this very specific thing that happens in mostly black high schools in NYC.
Cause that's not something you can just search up and research really.
Because of our culture - Miles & Miles!42's shoes are a silent language in their own right.
Like Miles!42's shoes are one of the first things we see about him.
They're the first thing we're suppose to notice - because it let's is compare him to Miles.
Miles' Jordans are iconic - the white and red shoes.
They're clean and white, with pops of color and personality. Like Miles, he's about being the good of Spider-man, while also getting himself and adding his own colors to it.
And because it's natural to the character and the culture, they let his shoes be the signal that Wiles is not like Miles. He has a different style, in fighting, in speaking, in personality, from his hair literally down to his shoes.
REMEMBER HOW I TALKED ABOUT SHOES HAVING PERSONALITY AND THE BLACK AIR FORCES ??????
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Wiles' shoes are VERY similar to Black Air Force 1s. It's basically that with utility bags and purple detailing.
That's a signal - like I said: WILES IS ABOUT THAT ACTION. He's here to get his lick back.
From his standpoint, as a black guy from Brooklyn with his personality, he would know about this culture. He'd know the message black Nikes send where he's from.
It'd be natural for him - Hell yeah he'd go for the black Jordans.
He's speaking his social language.
Wiles' doesn't have to say 'fuck around and find out' he got on Air Forces with bags on them - HE'S ABOUT IT.
The writers didn't wake up one day and say 'Oh Nike wants a brand deal?! Okay cool'.
They don't show Wiles' shoes to be like 'LOOKY BUY THE NICE SHOES' - We are shown this shot
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For them to be like : This is who Miles!42 is.
Because of sneakers.
Isn't that COOL? ISN'T IT. ISN'T IT COOL THE SOCIAL DYNAMICS OF INNER CITY BLACK KIDS IN NEW YORK??
But it's really funny to me to see Wiles shoes and be like 'damn he bout to fuck Miles up'.
THE IDEA OF THEM FEIGNING OVER JORDANS Fyyofydyogoc
Do guys where you are do this?? Like is this a thing y'all know any Sneakerheads.
Anyway I would put a pic of Hobie but I'm on mobile so they won't let me and I'm lazy
Bye.
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chxrrydrxp · 3 months
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𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒾𝒹𝒹ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉
(Jason x Dicks Ex! Reader)
blurb coming soon yall
word count: 1.3k
chapter 1
chapter 2
( reader is pissing me off like I know I made her but I'm really bouta rock her shit)
Jason shut the door behind him with a click. You sat back down on your couch, once again bringing your knees to your chest. “I'm fine Jason. You didn't have to come all the way here.”
He took a seat beside you, leaning comfortably on the soft cushions. You stared into your hands. A few minutes passed, and the silence between you began to make you fidgety. From the corner of your eye, you could see him mindlessly fumbling with your keys.
The silence burned a little longer until you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. “How long will it go on like this?” You questioned. Jason removed a keychain that had your initial and began prodding at it. “For as long as you let it,” he said with his eyes still on the letter.
You glanced over at him, trying to find something wrong with what he said. But you couldn't. He was right. He was so right and you hated it. “But I love him.” You felt him flinch for a second, but it must've been a shiver from the cold.
He finally turned to look at you, then slowly lifted a hand to wipe away a stray tear. He leaned further into the cushion and looked up at the ceiling. “Is love enough?” You sniffled and stood up from the couch. “I need some air, you wanna go for a walk?”
...
If there was one thing all Gothamites could agree on, it was that Gotham always looked better at night. At nights when you can't see the polluted air, and it's harder to see the trash flooding the sidewalks, or the occasional dead body that often gets mistaken for a hobo. Gotham had a beauty that few understood. Its beauty didn't come from the visible gap in the social hierarchy that kept the nightlife…relevant to say the least. Its beauty shines from the cracks. The little imperfections on the sidewalk allowed pretty flowers to bloom from within. The hidden alleys and caves are covered in spores and overgrown vines. Somehow you ended up stumbling past stubborn weeds in some wet alley that smelled of… never mind you didn't even wanna think about it. “Jason, what the hell is this?” You wiped your hands on your jacket.
“You'll see, just keep up. Oh, and watch your step or you might lose a leg. Potholes.” You blinked at him in disbelief. “What the fuck Jason? I said I wanted to go on a walk, not lose my leg.” He ignored you. “Found em.”
You made your way over to him, leaning over his shoulder. “What? mushrooms?” You glanced down at the far end of the stone alleyway. “All of this just to look at some mushrooms?”
“Not just any Mushrooms, they're luminous.” You turned his head over to look at you with your eyebrows furrowed. His oblivious expression instantly evaporated any frustration this trip brought you. “I can't with you…” You let out a soft laugh. “If this was your attempt to distract me from my recurring misery, it worked.” Jason grinned and kneeled to the family of mushrooms huddled in the moist corner. “Don't touch em’ they've got a sting that hurts like a bitch.” He pulled out a plastic bag and put on a leather glove. “What are you doing??” He broke the mushroom off from the stem. “Got a friend that's into this kinda stuff.”
“What..the..-" Your phone buzzed in your pocket. The name set in the contact made your heart drop. Jason must've sensed your hesitation, because he added, “Go ahead.” You answered the phone, backing up behind a wall for privacy. “Dick?” No answer. You heard shuffling in the background, along with laughter. A woman's laughter. You repeated his name to no avail. You realized you recognized the female voice to be Dick's coworker.
The one who just happens to be the topic of your argument with him. You hung up the phone and stared at the other side of the mossy stone walls. You heard shuffling, and Jason came to stand in front of you, bag in hand. “You good?” “He's with her right now.
Guess he accidentally butt-dialed me. Huh. Maybe he did it on purpose. Perhaps to knock some obvious sense into my head.” Jason signed, running his fingers through his hair. “Wanna go find out?” Your heart sank. “W-what?” You questioned as if this wasn't exactly what you were thinking. the second he asked, you'd already decided what your answer was. You needed this.
You know you did. Maybe if you witnessed the cheating first-hand it'd give you the answer you begged from him. "What if they're just working, I can't just assume-.” Jason now stood closer, gripping your arm sleeve. “What the hell is wrong with you?” “I don't know what you're-” He gripped your arm tighter, but not enough to hurt you.
“Don't gimme that. What, you're gonna just ignore this one as well? We could go there right now. You'll finally be able to see it with your own eyes, and you're not gonna go?”
He didn't notice the tears that began quickly streaming down your cheeks. You fought to keep your voice steady. “I know. I know damn it. I just…can't.” He stared into your eyes for a hard minute, then dropped your hand. “Fuck it. Don't go then.
But I'm not gonna sit here and watch you do this to yourself.”
You looked down at your feet, speechless. Jason sighed. “Come on, I'm taking you home.”
Silence. The entire walk back home was filled with silence, all the way up until you both reached your front door. Jason dug his hands in his pockets, avoiding your eyes as you searched for any sympathy. “Jason.” He looked up, maintaining his silence. Maybe for a second he'd hoped you'd invite him in. Instead, “Please don't say anything to Dick. Just leave it alone, alright? Please.” He hated the desperation in your quivering voice. It sounded like you were on the brink of shattering into nothing. He simply nodded, and turned away. “Be safe,” was all he said before walking away. You shut your door, dropping your things to the floor and sitting at the dining room table. You hesitantly opened your phone, and to your surprise, saw a text from Dick.
Dick: hey, you awake? i wanna talk.
Your heart hammered in your chest. You opened the message and saw that he was typing.
Dick: can you come over?
So that's exactly what you did. You picked up your things, and walked out the door, not noticing Jason in the distance, leaning against the rusted bars that fenced your apartment.
tag list: @12134z03 @xxsweetnlowxx @broadwayotakufairy @harleycao @johnnysilverhandeeznuts @calicocat45
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the-kr8tor · 8 months
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hiii, i've been thinking for Fluffy Friday - Hobie walking gn!reader to their bus stop after a concert and giving them his jacket
like it's late, and they're both tired from all the jumping in the pit and he's making sure they won't freeze on their way home. just Hobie being both punk and a gentleman <3
hope you're having a good day!!
Thank you for requesting! Hope you like it ❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, love struck Hobie, FLUFF
It's fluffy Friday!
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
You're freezing your ass off waiting for the bus, you try to hide it from Hobie though; slyly rubbing your arms, trying to get rid of the goosebumps. You absolutely regret not bringing a thicker jacket with you. Your tired body doesn't help, legs tired from jumping up and down, cursing the government for taking out benches on bus stops.
Hobie stops mid sentence, too engrossed in the conversation, he just noticed how your lips slightly quiver in the cold, arms crossed on your chest, trying to act nonchalant.
"—You want my jacket?" Hobie's already taking off his leather jacket.
"No, you'll get cold" you try to stop him, hands on the leather, pushing it back towards him.
"I run warm, love. You need it more" He says softly as he drapes it over your shoulder, helping you put your arms inside the jacket. You don't protest more, savoring the warmth provided. Already giddy when you realize you smell like him now. "Better?" Hobie rubs your arms, adding extra warmth.
"Yeah, better. Thank you" you sigh into his touch, smile soft, eyes staring at him with so much fondness, you take his breath away. A lopsided smile appears on his lips, he's sure you're doing it on purpose just to see him all flustered.
He lets you win, chuckling as he hides his face on the crook of your neck, using the excuse that he's hugging you goodbye. You embrace him back, warming him up instantly.
"You're cold already" You whisper it to him like a secret, kneading the tired muscles on his back.
The bus arrives, saving Hobie from your horrid (affectionate) acts. The doors hisses open, you reluctantly let him go, Hobie holds you at arms length, cupping your face in his hand, admiring how the fluorescent lights from the bus highlights your face. He etches the memory deep inside his mind, memorizing how clouds puff out of your slightly parted lips, eyebrows relaxed, doe eyes gazing at him with longing.
You're not the only one who has that expression. Hobie mirrors yours, except for the content smile on his lips. The bus honks, ruining the moment.
"I've gotta go" you don't want to leave though, but your eyes are already protesting, lids growing heavy every minute.
Hobie scans the bus for any creeps that might cause you trouble. He finds none, only you and the bus driver will be inside.
"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" He asks with concern, it is really late for you to travel alone.
You slowly walk towards the bus, fingers laced with Hobie's. "You live on the other side of town" laughing, finally letting him go. You feel cold already. "I'll call you when I get home, okay?" Trying to reassure him.
"Yeah," he nods, watching you get on the bus. "Drive safely, mate" Hobie addresses the driver. The driver wordlessly gives him a nod.
Sitting down on the plastic seats, you watch as Hobie gets smaller and smaller as the bus drives away. Laying your head on the window, you smile at how much you had fun today, especially spending it with Hobie. Giddily wrapping his leather jacket closer to your torso. You've been dating him for a couple of months now, and you're loving every second of it. You probably look like a maniac to the bus driver, all smiley and giggling at nothing.
Distracted, your face almost hits the seat in front of you when the bus suddenly lurches to a stop. You look out of the window in confusion.
"Sorry 'bout that" Hobie's familiar voice talks to the driver. Are you that tired that you're suddenly hearing his voice? Or do you just fancy him that much?
Peeking down the aisle, sure enough you see Hobie sauntering over to you, a goofy smile on his face.
Your mouth agape, you fumble with your words. "What–how? You're–"
"I ran" He doesn't look like he ran to catch up with the bus, a running bus mind you. How in the world?–
Hobie gestures for the seat next to you, without warning, the bus suddenly moves again, you reach for his arms so he doesn't get thrown about. Guiding him down the seat, he gives you an appreciative smile.
"What are you doing here?" You ask, voice lowering so you don't anger the driver with the noise.
"I don't know, actually" he looked serious when he said those words.
You laugh from the belly, head thumping on his chest. He laughs a few seconds after you, finding your giggling contagious. His hands on the back of your neck, you feel how cold his palms are. "Oh I think I know" you say with a smirk, a hint of shyness peeking in.
"I'm not trying to sleep over at your place–"
"And here I thought you wanted me to make you a cup of tea" you warm his cold arms. "So this isn't a ruse to stay the night?"
"I think i just wanted to make sure you got home" he clears his throat, trying to sound nonchalant.
"All these spikes and you're actually a softie, huh?" You fix his windblown eyebrow. "How are you gonna get home now?"
"That's for me to figure out later" Hobie tilts his head, leaning to your touch.
"Okay," you lay your head on his shoulder. "Thank you for staying with me" holding his cold hand, you place a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"It's nothin'" He loops his arm over your shoulder. Cheek right next to your temple, Hobie practically melts. Comfortable in your arms, you feel the same, resting your eyes, squeezing his hand lightly.
You mentally scoff at the idea of letting Hobie walk in the dark especially in this temperature. You're already planning what tea to brew for him when you get home.
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