#pointed toe high heel pumps

[theodoreangelos]

Classic black suede 6cm (2.4") high heel pumps from Lazzarini These classic pumps from LAZZARINI in soft suede are a basic for your shoe wardrobe. This timeless pair impresses with its high-quality leather lining and the particularly comfortable soft sole, which, together with the 6 cm leather-covered heel, guarantees a pleasant walking sensation. The slightly lower toe cut-out makes this model look sexy and elegant even on a low heel. A true classic, especially in black, that can be combined in a variety of ways! Lazzarini@Humanic

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master An "Effortlessly Elegant" & Put-Together Look

Table of Contents:

Treat your skin like royalty

Take ample care of your natural hair

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape

Choose your accessories wisely

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple

Regarding your signature scent(s)

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously

Treat your skin like royalty:

Use high-quality skincare twice a day

Wear sunscreen every day

Remove your makeup every night before bed no matter what

Use makeup that doesn't clog your pores/irritate your skin

Change your pillowcases weekly

Eat plenty of produce & drink lots of water

Prioritize sleep

Limit or eliminate alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and processed foods/sugary drinks

Keep your skin exfoliated/derma-planed

Take ample care of your natural hair:

Use high-quality shampoo/conditioner combos that suit your hair type & don't cause build-up

Hydrate with a scalp mask 1-4 times a month

Use cold or lukewarm water to wash your hair

Apply shampoo to the roots/hair covering your scalp and conditioner only on the "ponytail" section of your hair

Use a specialty hair towel after getting out of the shower

Always comb wet hair and brush 1-3 times a day when dry

Limit heat on your hair when possible & always use a heat protectant every time you do

Use non-elastic or silk hair ties

Get regular trims at least 3-4 times per year (get your hair layered if it's very thick)

Try to limit how much you dye or, especially bleach, your hair and do elaborate styles with tons of heat & harsh products

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape:

Embrace minimalist basics (tees, tanks, blouses, sweaters, jeans, trousers, blazers, leather jackets, coats, etc.) in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, Merino wool, Tencel, mulberry silk, etc.)

Choose options in black, white, grey, charcoal beige, navy, burgundy, or cream depending on your skin tone and preferences

Invest in a collection of sleek footwear options (black boots, loafers, black pumps, white sneakers, etc.) in minimalist, timeless styles that suit the color palette, hemlines & proportions of your go-to outfits

Ensure your shoes and accessories feel proportional to the weight/silhouette of your outfit, color-coordinate with the rest of your look, and have streamlined hardware from head-to-toe (all silver, all gold, or one piece that mixes silver/gold and another gold & silver piece each to balance out the color palette)

Keep all of your clothes steam and lint-rolled, so they look crisp & fresh all-day

Befriend your tailor to take in or let out clothes as needed when purchased off the rack

Choose clothes/styles that flatter your body shape and proportions

Utilize belts and bra tape to adjust the waist, keep shirts tucked in, and keep straps from falling down or create an impromptu cuff/hem on your pants

When in doubt, select a neutral head-to-toe monochrome outfit

If on a budget, consider choosing black, grey, camel beige items to hide fabric imperfections that could cheapen your look

Choose your accessories wisely:

Select sleek, simple neutral (& almost exclusively) monochrome shoes made with smooth (recycled/vegan) leather with

Pair almost any outfit with a shoe featuring a slight platform, block heel, kitten heel, and/or a sharply pointed toe to elongate your silhouette

Complement your outfit with structured, pared-back handbags with no logos (Focus on quality and construction, not the brand name) in a neutral shade and timeless silhouette

For jewelry, choose at most one statement piece and all others should be focused on different areas of the body (e.g. don't mix statement earrings with layered/bold necklaces or stacked rings * bracelets). When in doubt, choose simple diamond chains or earrings, sleek bangles or chainlink necklaces & bracelets, simple pendant necklaces, and minimalist rings in hardware that all go together

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup:

Cover up any dark circles, blemishes, or hyperpigmentation with a color-matched concealer

Lightly contour with a bronzer that complements your skin tone

Fill in your brows for a naturally full look (or get them professionally tinted)

Apply a light wash of rose, coral, or mauve blush

Use black mascara with a little bit of eyeliner and/or a subtle wash of brown eyeshadow on the lids

Apply a "your lips but better" nude shade or "just kissed' berry lipstick or pigmented lip balm for a subtle wash of color

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple:

Maintain cut, cleaned, and filed short nails

Opt for a square or almond nail shape

Choose a timeless nail shade (pink, nude, red, beige, dark cherry, navy, dark purple, black) with no nail art

Hydrate your hands and scrub under your nails daily

Regarding your signature scent(s):

Ensure your body wash/lotion and perfume scents don't clash

Test perfumes for a trial day to ensure they smell divine with your unique pheromones

Choose a fragrance appropriate for the seasonal/occasion

Apply a dab on each wrist and on your neck/behind the ears. If the scent doesn't project well on you, try applying these small dabs on the cuffs and shoulders of your jacket/walk into it to get it on your hair (if it would stain your clothes)

Don't layer more than one heady perfume at a time or scents that don't have complementary and/or shared notes

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously:

Floss every day (after each meal if possible)

Brush your teeth with an electric toothbrush twice a day

Have mints on hand if you're a garlic, spice, or coffee lover

Keep your lips & hands well-moisturized and protected with SPF

Shower your body daily and be extra diligent in scrubbing your privates, everything behind, and under your arms

Don't use very hot water in the shower (it burns/dries out your skin)

Exfoliate 2-3 times a week with a sugar scrub

Moisturize daily or anytime you get out of the shower

Apply SPF on any exposed sun (especially in the summer or when the UV index is high in your area)

[taylorswiftstyle]

66th Annual Grammy Awards | Los Angeles, CA | February 4, 2024

Schiaparelli gown

In my eyes, a Schiaparelli look should be an uncontested slam dunk. So for this look to, in my opinion, not fly quite as high as befits the beautiful work of Daniel Roseberry is almost a greater disappointment than an average look on its own. To opt for a designer that is known for its surrealism and its beautifully eerie ethereal strangeness but to tamp it down to what I mistook as a Vivienne Westwood gown and strip it of any possible Schiaparelli beautiful weirdness feels like a huge missed opportunity. Especially when it could have really been magical and interesting and a fashion risk for Taylor.

But I also understand that she had a vision. And she molded the designer to fit her and that vision.

It’s a look that I feel falls on an Easter Egg’s sharpened sword. The draping akin to tangled bedsheets, the Victorian cameo-esque appearance of the watch choker from afar, the dramatic opera gloves, the corset back, and the black and white colour scheme feel pulled from (or inspired by) what we now know is the forthcoming album formerly known as ‘TS11’: Tortured Poets Department. And if Taylor’s admission that this project has been in the works for the last two years is anything to go by, it also throws into sharp relief the schoolgirl plaids, the dark academia loafers, and the shadowy colour palette her street style has often centered on in recent months. 

There are so many beautiful elements to pull apart here that feel sacrificial in the name of early evocation of what could be a scholarly-sounding (or perhaps sapient-sounding) album based on the cover and intro language. The gown has a beautiful shape (the waist cinching!) and is a fascinating colour choice that could read suffragette or bride depending on who’s asked (and isn’t that in itself an intentional diametric “Lavender Haze” worth dissecting?). But the black accessories (presumably in service of Tortured Poets) overcooks it. I think a low bun, single strand of diamonds, and closed toe pumps could have gone a long way in styling (I’ll let the trendy gloves stay - in combination with the white gown they’re giving Princess Kate at the BAFTAs, no?). 

The biggest point of all is that Taylor understands the connect between her music and her style (I should know - I spend 350+ pages talking about it in my upcoming book Taylor Swift Style: Fashion Through the Eras). She also understands the role her style plays in cementing moments in her career to milestones. This moment. This gown. It joins a trio of looks as her most memorable and significant: her AOTY wins. This look will forever be enshrined in slideshows depicting the new precedent she has set for any artist - male or female. And what a win it is for an album I love so much. Knowing that, it feels even more fascinating to me that she’d use this moment as a bridge to another project and not honouring the album in question. 

Worn with: Lorraine Schwartz jewelry and Giuseppe Zanotti heels

Photos by Matt Winkelmeyer and Gilbert Flores via Getty Images

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine | jjk | "... the whispers..."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game. This confrontation is long overdue and is either going to end in handcuffs or tangled limbs.

part i | this is part ii | part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alcohol consumption; things are thrown during a public altercation; second chance romance?; angst and fluff and feels; Jungkook's POV

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; a few cameos you can speculate on and one named cameo hehe; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

whether I'm gonna be your wife or gonna smash up your bike, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back – imgonnagetyouback by taylor swift

It was a night just like any other night, which meant Jeon Jungkook was somewhere doing something because he was someone. On this night he was visiting a new upscale nightclub owned by one of his close friends, which was why he was at a table surrounded by his bros, expensive bottles of alcohol, and beautiful women. Not his scene, really. He was an introvert at heart. Despite that, he had obligations to be here. Obligations to laugh, to jest, to be merry, to be somebody.

But he knew he was just a somebody surrounded by much better bodies.

So, really, he was only a ghost.

“Hey, isn’t that…?”

It was luck and good friends that got him in the position he was in now. Jungkook knew that. He couldn’t complain too much when they invited him out. After all, they were only doing it because they cared about him. Yeah.

“She's really staring at you, man.”

Someone nudged his arm. For a moment, he didn’t comprehend that it was him that was being spoken to. Maybe it was the heavy black leather jacket. Underneath, he wore a tight white tank, and completed his outfit with studded charcoal-wash jeans and black leather boots. Nice, sure, but there were other men that much more sharply dressed with bigger designer labels. Of course, he cleaned up well with his slicked-back black hair and clean-shaven jawline. So did any other male model out there. He was not so egotistical to think he was the most interesting man there.

“Hmph, who?” he snickered, swinging around in his chair with the ice in his glass clinking. He would figure out who everyone was talking about from the reactions of the public. He snapped his head around, stray tendrils of black falling free onto his forehead, obscuring his vision for a split second, and then he faced the crowd beneath the VIP tables.

Time slowed.

The club was loud. Very loud, due to the deafening combination of music, chatter and laughter. It was lit with the imperfect balance of light and dark, oscillating spotlights exposing corners and weaving through moving bodies clad in fitted dresses, high heels, tailored blazers, suit pants. The alcohol was high-grade. The crowd was cherry-picked and pre-screened at the door. It was what it was. Individuals who had money blowing money, ignoring the sins around them to commit their own. It was hard to pick out someone.

But Jungkook saw her right away.

The club became quiet from his point of view. Sound became a mishmash of muffled, incoherent noises fading to the background as the faces blurred. The music dulled. All lights dimmed except in one area. Everything was still moving, still thriving, still breathing yet he was only aware of one single person.

His ex-girlfriend stared right at him from below.

Even from this distance he could feel the blades in her gaze.

Black patent leather jacket. Very short, cut just under the breasts. Black lace corset, see-through except for the cups. Skintight lilac miniskirt. Legs for days. Pointed-toe black pumps with a thin ankle strap, the kind he had trouble with due to the small delicate buckle.

He tried to breathe but the air was like concrete in his lungs.

She tilted her head, narrowing her smoked-out eyes. Her lips were glossy crimson, cool-toned to match the palette of her outfit. Her hair had been pinned up, exposing her graceful neck and glimmering collarbones.

She began to walk through the crowd.

Jungkook spun around and suddenly all the sound roared back, intense and thunderingly hostile. He winced, clutching his drink and holding the side of his head, trying to make sense of it all.

“Tch, why is she here?”

“Right? She doesn’t belong here.”

“She can be wherever she wants to be,” replied a calm, deep voice.

He could hear voices around him talking but it wasn’t making any sense. How? Why? Was he seeing things? And why did it matter? It didn’t. It didn’t. He took another sip of his glass and found it bitter and tasteless. Maybe that was in his head too. It didn’t matter if she was here. Someone was tugging on his arm. He pulled himself free, snapping his hand down onto the table.

The world crashed back into place as his drink sloshed and spat out from his force.

A startled feminine gasp.

The calm, deep voice returned. “You okay, man?”

Jungkook jerked his head up and saw Kim Taehyung carefully surveying him. He was a man with strong, masculine features and a comforting baritone voice that reminded one of cozy winters and romantic nights. Out of all his friends, they were the closest in age. However, Taehyung was more than a year older and a much more seasoned veteran of the modeling industry. He had been scouted at a very young age, quickly learning the ins-and-outs without losing who he was. He was grounded, easygoing, and never had a crack in his composure. At least, that was how Jungkook thought of him.

Taehyung raised a dark eyebrow, repeating his question without saying a word.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook scowled, then controlled his face a bit better. “What?”

Those dark, moody eyes served him a dose of silent judgement as one of the girls at the table spoke up again.

“Oooh, she’s sitting down at a table.”

He told himself not to look. It didn’t matter if she was here. And yet his head moved on its own, pivoting to the left so fast he almost had whiplash. At high-end clubs like this, there were tables available depending on to how much a patron spent. The larger tables had to be paid for in advance to be secured a space. Such reservations were violently expensive, signaling VIP status. A lot of the smaller tables on the lower level were occupied. The more exclusive tables were higher up, needing stairs to access the higher tiers. A waiter was holding her hand, carefully guiding his ex-girlfriend up the stairs to an empty round table that typically seated ten.

There was no one else at the table.

She sat down at the seat closest to overlooking the club.

“She can afford that?”

A crackling laugh. “Doubt it.”

“Who are you to say what she can’t afford?” Taehyung cut in sharply in a disapproving tone.

“O-Oh, well… It’s just not that common, you know.”

The chittering was from the women they had invited to the table earlier. Shit, their presence seemed so frivolous and annoying now. Jungkook had half a mind to turn around and glare at them. Instead, he was transfixed by the woman in patent leather and tight lilac. She crossed her legs, smoothed her skirt, and leaned back in her chair, scanning the crowd. A waiter came back and brought a bucket of ice with a champagne bottle and accompanying flutes. A waitress came by with another bottle. Porcelain, with painted flue floral design, and placed two crystal glasses onto the table. His former lover smiled at them, nodding. They bowed and took their leave after serving her.

Instead of touching the drinks, the woman turned her body and locked her icy stare right on him.

Jungkook stiffened and turned away quickly, feeling his body running hot. The table was still talking, but it was behind hands and feigned disinterest. Taehyung sighed, shaking his head. Of course, there had been other friends at the table too. Only now did Jungkook notice that they were missing. Must have wandered off. At the very least, their host Kim Seokjin would definitely be gone for a while. He was an affluent actor, model, and owner of several establishments, including this luxury nightclub. Eventually the tall, broad-shouldered man would return to see them off, but there was no telling when.

“Did you know she was gonna be here?” Jungkook hissed through gritted teeth, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the women. They still lingered for the free drinks which Taehyung kept supplied. No sense in wasting Seokjin’s endless tab after all.

Taehyung frowned. “I don’t police people’s actions. Does it matter what she does?”

Jungkook scoffed. “Oh, so this wasn’t your idea?”

Those normally warm brown eyes turned cold. “It wasn’t. Besides, she’s no longer your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely not.”

A growl collected in Jungkook’s throat and he was about to let it loose. He swiveled his head again only for the sound to die before it began. A man was standing by her table. He was sharply dressed in a suit and tie, with tied-back bleached-blond hair that laid over his shoulders. He had a pleasant decorum and a smile like a predatory feline. She gestured him to sit down and poured him a drink as invitation. He watched in horror as his ex-girlfriend chatted up a beautiful stranger.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or run over there to flip the table.

A low voice cut through his thoughts.

“Wasn’t the breakup amicable?”

He froze.

Slowly, Jungkook faced Taehyung, his long-time friend. He never really could bring himself to fully lie to those piercing dark orbs, now reflecting the same reserved gaze that Taehyung had given him when Jungkook provided the same flimsy excuse he was once again repeating.

“I… It wasn’t meant to be,” Jungkook mumbled once more. “The traveling… it was too much for us.”

The older male was too good at reading between the lines, especially when it came to romance, his forte. “Hm.” He knew when he wasn’t getting the full story. “It’s probably too late to ask now, but was it what you wanted?”

Jungkook couldn’t help it.

“It was…”

He looked over his shoulder again.

“… What I deserved.”

She was thanking the blond-haired man. He bowed ninety degrees and leaned in, whispering something in her ear before leaving the table. His glass was empty. Someone else was approaching the table. A pretty woman with long black hair in a white minidress and short, pearl-white nails sat down, bowing lightly and introducing herself. His ex-girlfriend offered between the two drinks and the pretty woman chose the champagne. A waiter came over to uncork it for them, pouring a healthy amount into the two flutes.

They two chatted, immediately absorbed with each other.

“For a guy naturally talented at a lot of things, you’re such a stupid idiot.”

He was.

Wait.

Jungkook scowled, turning back to a disapproving Taehyung cradling a small ceramic cup. It was hand-painted with the smallest of brushstrokes, depicting a flock of black birds disappearing into the white sky. He took a sip with a gruff sigh, making a tense face. He was a wine guy, but he couldn’t turn down traditional Korean alcohol. That would be uncouth.

“How long are you going to continue moping?” Taehyung scoffed.

“I’m not moping,” Jungkook countered, hunched over the table and gripping his whiskey glass a little too hard.

“You are convincing no one. Least of all me.”

His eyes flickered upward, glaring. Taehyung remained refined, unperturbed, nearly prince-like in his half-open floral-and-forest-green silk shirt and ruffled hair. A black-brown curl perfectly grazed one of his eyebrows, accenting his condescending look with a dash of softness.

“Did you ever realize how much she did for you?”

Jungkook pushed away his glass. He couldn’t reply. He stuck his tongue in his cheek, trying not to feel. It was only then that he noticed that the table was strangely silent despite the fervor of the environment – the women had made themselves scarce, understanding that this conversation was much too serious for their girlypop night.

Finally, he forced himself to speak. “For me? I take care of myself.”

Taehyung winced. Hard. “You cannot be serious right now.”

Another peek behind him. A different man at her table now. Silvery-blonde hair, tan skin, muscular like a godly titan. She caught him looking and stared directly back. Jungkook cursed under his breath. “What did she do then? Hm? Enlighten me.” His voice was becoming rougher, slipping out of his practiced Seoul dialect and into his Busan dialect. The broad-shouldered man at the table had no suit jacket. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up. He must have noticed her lack of attention, because he began to turn around as well.

Jungkook jerked away before they could lock eyes too.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Taehyung exhaled, not quite annoyed but getting there. “But I know you were the one that was wrong.”

Yeah, right.

“Never once did she complain about you. Never once did she butt into your business and cause you trouble when she could have. Never once did she talk behind your back when we both know damn well that you’re no saint, Jeon Jungkook.”

His tattooed hand against the table balled up into a fist, the familiar ache in his chest splitting, threatening.

Unintimidated, Taehyung continued. “The travelling was rough? Of course, it is. And there are probably a thousand ways to make it up to someone you love, but instead now I’m looking at you sitting here and her sitting there, pretending to be strangers. Tells me a whole lot about how that worked out.” His natural Daegu satoori was becoming more evident during his tirade. Taehyung wasn’t trying to be polite, though.

“You don’t know anything,” Jungkook retorted.

“I don’t.” Those dark brown eyes burned hot, scrutinizing him and tearing him apart. “And I don’t need to. Your hostility is telling me everything.”

“It was you,” Jungkook snapped, slamming his fist onto the table. “You invited her here.”

Taehyung’s low voice became lower, more accusatory. “Go ahead. Keep deflecting. Run back home and hide. That’s what you want to do, right?” His gaze narrowed and Taehyung’s normally friendly warmth morphed into scalding heat. “You heard what they said. She doesn’t belong here. And yet, here she is. They all talked and gossiped and badmouthed her, right to your face even, and yet you said nothing. You still don’t have the fucking balls, man. You didn’t respect her for all she was. In spite of that, she stood beside you, head held high, until you tossed her away. You brought her into this world, you ripped her out of it, and guess what? She is here. She holds her own. You deluded yourself into thinking she needed you. But she doesn’t, and it’s the other way around.”

Jungkook shot up out of his seat, nearly knocking the chair over. He was breathing hard, his furious anger so violent that it clawed at his insides, and Taehyung tilted his head, mirroring the expression of an adult tiger observing a foolish cub.

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook gritted out between clenched teeth. “You’re fucking wrong.”

He… No. She did this. This was her fault. She was the one that always pushed him to go for what he wanted. She was the one who always helped him make it work. Last minute changes happened often early in his career and she always smiled at him and told him to go, to run, to chase those adventures. And she always waited for him to come home.

“I wasn’t like that.”

In the middle of dinners for two. In vacations cut short. In forgotten special dates. Go. She always waited for him to come home. He couldn’t be blamed for that. Those were all her own decisions. He just had to do what he had to do, didn’t he? He couldn’t be blamed for doing what he thought was best. He couldn’t be blamed for trying his best. This dull ache created from a thousand cuts was not made from his own hand.

Right?

“You’re hopeless.” Taehyung slumped back in his chair and sighed. “Do as you wish.”

He wasn’t the person Taehyung was saying he was.

If he was, then…

No.

Jungkook whipped around and locked his eyes to the table, walking determinedly up to it.

There was a different man sitting there now. A very tall one with very short hair, violate energy, and a striking profile, deeply engaged in conversation with his ex-girlfriend. Currently laughing bashfully at something she must have said. The stranger was wearing a crisp black dress shirt with the first few buttons undone and well-tailored black slacks. Jungkook wanted to punch him in his very handsome face. He didn’t care that the man’s shoulders and arms were so built that they were nearly bursting the seams of his dress shirt, nor did he care that starting a fight right now would do absolutely nothing except get him thrown out in handcuffs.

Jungkook wanted to kill him.

Her eyes took a moment to shift from the very handsome stranger to him.

It hurt.

It really fucking hurt.

He glared back. Her gaze was not as heated, nor did it hold the same ice she had during their last conversation way back then. There was a completely different mix of emotions conveyed now. Almost disconnected, lonely, and loathing all at once, the last not directed at him but at herself.

As if she didn’t want to care but did and hated herself for it.

It wasn’t who she was at all, and Jungkook hated himself for doing this to her.

“Dude, I’m going to need you to get lost.”

Startled, the seated man turned his head to see Jungkook giving him a death stare. He hated seeing the puppy-like expression on such a masculine-looking man, not because he looked down on that but because it was a genuine, adorable reaction that couldn’t be faked.

She probably liked that.

She probably deserved that.

Jungkook was determined to ruin this too. Why the fuck not?

The man looked confused, and then irritated. “Uh… Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I don’t think you belong here.” He had a commanding, stern tone. He shifted in his seat, halfway to rising. “This conversation doesn’t include you.”

“No, this conversation doesn’t include you,” Jungkook snapped, glancing at her. His ex-girlfriend did nothing but raise an eyebrow at him, her arms crossed under her breasts. “Fuck off.”

The man in the black dress shirt began to stand, brows furrowing. “Hey, I’m going to have to ask you to leave–”

“Excuse me.”

She stood up.

From this distance, Jungkook could fully take in how the smoke-grey eyeshadow accentuated the shape of her eyes, making them more prominent and intense. The lights caught the glow of her skin and the vividness of the scarlet of her lips, giving her an ethereal, untouchable demeanor. Loose layers of her hair framed her face despite the majority of it being pinned up, casting cold, dark shadows around the hot radiance of her gaze.

“I’m sorry to cut our conversation short, but I think it’s best if you give us a moment,” she said politely to the tall stranger while bowing. “I was enchanted to meet you tonight, Kim Mingyu.”

A pink flush dusted over the man’s cheeks. This motherfucker had the audacity to be flustered. Jungkook still wanted to punch him in the face. Maybe more now than before.

“O… Oh… Um. Alright.” He glanced between Jungkook and her. “Will you be okay?”

She smiled, maintaining confident eye contact with the stranger. “Let’s not assume the worst of people. And… Your words have given me courage. I thank you.”

It took everything in Jungkook not to trip the guy on his very expensive designer shoes as he hastily bowed and took his leave, offering an awkward half-wave before backing away. She raised a hand back, not looking away even when he turned around.

And then.

Quiet.

At least as quiet as a loud nightclub could be. But it all became background noise in the face of loaded silence. The safety off now. The bass faded into heartbeats as she raised her eyes and, once again, they faced each other across the table. Jungkook stood with his hands balled up into fists in the pockets of his leather jacket. His former lover stood with her hands in front of her. She was still the most beautiful, graceful, and collected woman that he had ever had the pleasure to know.

“I’m…”

And he missed her so, so much.

“I’m sorry.”

So fucking much.

Her eyes flickered down in a pause, and then back up. “It really doesn’t matter anymore. The past is in the past.”

Her name on his lips felt foreign and familiar all at once. She didn’t react. It was as if he had said nothing at all. He said it again, almost with an edge of panic, and she closed her eyes, breathing in slowly. He wanted to run to the other side. He wanted to climb on top of the table and grab her hands and tell her it was going to be okay, that he was going to be better, that she was the love of his life and that he could be hers too, please, if only he had a chance. Instead, he stayed where he was, frozen in place, trying not to do the wrong thing even though everything about this scene and script was all wrong.

Her eyes opened in a resigned, resolute flutter.

“Do you think saying sorry takes back everything you’ve done?” she asked in a measured tone.

He pulled his hands out of his jacket, shaking his head. “No. No, of course not. I… You didn’t give me a chance to apologize, and I–”

“Apologize for what?” she coldly interrupted.

“W-Well… For… everything, really.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know.”

Jungkook blinked hard, trying to banish his tears. “Know?” he echoed.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” Her words were sharpened steel, cutting right through him.

“I do,” he insisted. “For all the times I left during dinner, for all the times I’ve left during our scheduled time together, for forgetting your birthday, anniversary–”

“For the blatant disrespect,” she interrupted, her hands separating, those intense eyes narrowing. “For always believing I could fend for myself when you got swept up during work events. For contacting me not to talk about my day, but to interrogate me on what I was doing. For not believing me and asking me to send photos every time I was out somewhere.”

He sputtered, taken aback. “That wasn’t… Those things–”

“For always knowing I understood your position and taking it for granted.” Her glare was like daggers, cutting through all the lies he told himself. “And yet never understanding mine. Never believing in the love I had for you.”

“I did believe!”

“And so you accused me of lying?” she shot back, scathing him. “I have never done anything to make you believe I was disloyal to you, but I was five minutes late to a date and suddenly I need to be lying? Suddenly that was a sign of my nefarious plans? Suddenly I’m the bad guy that needs to be backed into a corner? Suddenly I must beg on my knees to soothe your feelings?”

“I didn’t ask for that,” he retorted. “I just asked why you didn’t text that you were late.”

“I don’t need to repeat what I said then,” she growled, bristling. She had been five minutes late because of an elderly taxi driver taking his time. “Because it didn’t matter what the reason was for you. I know that now. You were scared. You were insecure. You were nervous that I was beginning to fall out of love with you. You latched onto the first thing I did wrong and blew it out of proportion to force me to grovel to you. You could have asked me directly how I felt. Instead, you decided to play fucking games.”

Jungkook couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

Her hands balled up into fists by her sides. “I was patient. I was understanding. I loved you.” She dug her nails into her palms, clenching her jaw. “But I was not going to let myself be manipulated by your insecurities. I was not about to lose myself to become an extension of you, Jeon Jungkook.”

Past tense.

“You… loved me?”

She might as well have stabbed him right through the heart.

A thundering pause.

Finally, she sighed. Her hands relaxed.

“When I came in here, I didn’t know if I wanted to run to you or slap you.”

She looked around, down at the crowd, up to the lights, to the bar, the tables, the people.

“Before you, all I had was a decent job. Not exciting, but good enough to enjoy the life I wanted. I had loose acquaintances and once-in-a-blue-moon friends. I had mediocre hobbies that I was okay at. Before you, that had been enough. This,” she breathed, indicating the people and the money being flaunted around like water during a rainstorm. “I didn’t know this. I didn’t know how lonely it was to be standing this high. I didn’t know… My acquaintances and few friends saw the life you gave me and faded away, no longer relating to the extravagance I was exposed to. My job became a forbidden topic for the mere crime that it was boring. My hobbies became childish to these refined eyes. Yet… I could live with all that. The life I wanted was the one I had with you. And… it turned out to be miserable.”

For the first time, Jungkook realized how much she lost loving him.

“I was miserable.”

She half-laughed, empty.

“But I loved you.”

Lowered her head.

“And I was so, so damn angry with you.”

She smacked the table with her palm, hard enough to make the people around them flash them a startled look. Her fingers tensed, cherry-red manicure flaring over the wood.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” This was the part Jungkook didn’t understand. His voice rose in both frustration and desperation. “Why didn’t you just blow up on me? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Say what?” she snarled, snapping her head up, each word a bullet tearing through him. “Huh? No, don’t go? How dare you leave me, again? Create the war wounds right before we part? What good does all that do? Make us both upset right before you run off? Because you would anyway. You know you would, because you are stubborn and selfish and always doing what you need to do, putting me at the bottom of the list since I am capable… right? I can handle myself, right?”

He was rounding the table, knocking chairs aside. “You could have been angry at me. You just didn’t want to be!”

“Who wants to be angry? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“What, you were worried that you would no longer be the perfect girlfriend if you weren’t understanding?” he accused.

She looked livid. “Don’t you dare flip my consideration onto me.”

He stopped right in front of her, tension all over his neck and jaw. “It’s your fault too. I can’t change if you act like everything is fine!”

Her eyes widened. “Are you serious? I have to be the one to teach you not to be a fucking selfish prick and think about someone else for a change?” she hissed.

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Of course, you know!”

They were beginning to draw whispers and stunned faces but neither of them was backing down or ashamed enough. Or, perhaps, they were simply completely unaware of the disruption they were causing.

“You knew – no, you still know,” she snarled, jabbing him in the chest with a impeccably manicured finger. “You have never felt like you fit in with these people. That was why you tried so hard. That was why you took every opportunity to be a lapdog. That was why you dated me, because I am not privileged and enabled, that’s why you dragged me into your world and got paranoid when I wasn’t showing the same apprehensions as you, putting me in impossible positions and playing games, when we could have been teamed up against the world, when we could have been yin and yang, but all we were was a pair of damn cowards!”

His eyes went wide.

Fury laced in her helpless expression.

“You could have protected me. All you did was make me throw myself to the wolves to protect you!”

Her hands slammed into his chest and she shoved him, hard. He stumbled back, throwing his right arm out, knocking over a champagne flute and shattering it. Glass exploded onto the floor, delicate shards shooting out and catching the light, scattering into dust beneath designer feet.

People gasped and someone screamed at the unexpected noise.

His left hand reached out and gripped the patent leather sleeve of her jacket. Their gazes locked in shock and comprehension. His lips parted. One of his knees was still bent to steady himself from falling. But before Jungkook could say anything, she squeezed her eyes shut, breaking their connection, and ripped her arm from his grasp.

Then she seized the porcelain bottle with painted blue flowers and threw it onto the floor, shattering that too.

One moment of awful, dazed silence.

The next moment, men in security uniforms swiftly and silently crossed the distance and surrounded them. He was being grabbed and pinned down to the table, metal handcuffs clicked onto his wrists behind his back despite his protests. His jaw dropped when one of the men touched her shoulder and she immediately turned around and slapped him. Instantly, she too was firmly pushed down and also restrained, both of them staring at each other over the surface of the wood, their previously well-styled hair in disarray all over their faces, their eyes wide with the realization of the severity of their public argument.

He couldn’t help but think she looked fucking hot.

Something flickered in her eyes. She recognized his exact thought from their shared look. And his ex-girlfriend burst out laughing at this absurd situation, even as security hoisted them up and dragged them down the stairs. So, fuck it. He couldn’t help it either.

Jungkook started laughing too.

-

“This is your fault, by the way.”

“Feel free to add it to the list of shit I’ve done wrong.”

They were still handcuffed. Both standing a respectful distance away  from each other in the middle of a storeroom crammed with boxes stacked like a cardboard maze. There were no windows. The door was closed and presumably locked. Neither of them had moved towards it. There would be no criminal undercover going on here. They were already in deep enough shit. Adding attempted escape would probably change their current storeroom location into separate jail cells for the night.

They did not look at each other.

Jungkook leaned against the boxes, his hands stuck behind his back. One of the sides of his leather jacket had slipped down, exposing his right shoulder. It was nice, actually, since the previous scuffle had left him rather hot-blooded. He snuck a glance beside him.

His ex-girlfriend’s body was facing the door. The backs of her hands rested on the prominent curve of her ass in that tight lilac skirt, her straight posture making her waist look even smaller. Must be nice to have a built-in shelf. His eye line travelled up to her hair, seeing it half-undone and falling down her neck. Half of the pins were still holding up by sheer luck. The patent leather of her jacket crackled as she adjusted, stretching out her ankle. She was still in her high heels.

“Uncomfortable?” he found himself quietly asking.

“Could be worse,” she answered back, still not turning around.

He waited for her to elaborate.

She didn’t.

The silence was palpable. Somehow not unbearable. He looked back down at his feet, wondering why they had been left here. He half-expected security to escort them off the premises and into a police car, but they had marched them behind the kitchen and told them to stay put and not cause trouble, similarly to how misbehaving kids were put in time-out. Then again, the owner of the club was his affluent friend Kim Seokjin. Perhaps this was a rich people thing. Or an under-the-table thing.

Her voice echoed in his head.

You have never felt like you fit in with these people.

“Hey, uh…” he started, trailing off.

A light sigh.

Then, she shook her head, somewhat vigorously. Some of the hairpins loosened up. “Ugh, my hair is more annoying than anything,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s all messed up.”

Hell yeah, it was, and it was a turn-on, reminding him of after-sex tousling. Jungkook kept his mouth shut. Not the right time for that. He chewed on his lower lip, wondering if he could do anything. Wondering if he should do anything. She still hadn’t turned around.

So, he did.

He turned around, bent down slightly, and tried to reach up. The angle was difficult. Not high enough either. His leather sleeves were also constricting his movement and making loud creaking sounds. He looked back, trying to reach up with a grunt, and she stiffened, swinging her head around. He froze in an awkward position. She stared at him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He blinked back. “Um… I… I was trying to help…?”

Her eyebrow raised. “By… doing yoga?”

He let out an impatient huff. “No, I’m trying to help you take the pins out of your hair,” Jungkook clarified, straightening with a frustrated shake of his body. “It’s bothering you, isn’t it? But I’m not flexible enough and you’re too tall in your heels.”

She paused. He looked away, feeling somewhat embarrassed for even trying. Who was he to think that he could do something like that? Hah. His hands tightened behind him. They weren’t close like that anymore. They weren’t even friends.

He felt a sting in his heart remembering that.

“Sorry… I should have asked if you wanted the help at all.”

He exhaled heavily.

Stillness.

Then he heard the crack of patent leather and raised his head to see her squat down, lowering one knee to the concrete floor, her back perfectly straight and her head at his waist height. She was facing the door again so he couldn’t see her expression.

“If… Well, it would be helpful if you could… If you could remove the hairpins,” she mumbled, keeping her head up. “Please.”

He gawked at her kneeled form, unmoving.

His heartbeat accelerated.

“Um… if you’re going to do it, faster would be better,” she added hesitantly with placed-in chuckle. “I don’t know how long I can keep my balance in these shoes.”

His cheeks burned. “Uh, yeah, s-sorry. I’m on it.”

The metal handcuffs clinked as he moved. He turned around and backed up a bit, reaching out to feel for her hair. Sucked in a quiet breath as his fingers grazed the soft strands, memories of stolen nights drifting back to him. He swallowed hard and bit his lip, using touch to search for the hairpins, and then loosening them as gently as he could. One by one. He tried to tuck them in his palm as he continued. Sometimes he would need to rest one hand on her head and use the other to pull them out slowly and carefully. She said nothing, tilting her head slightly as he made his way around. He felt his way along her scalp, running his fingers through her hair, remembering the familiar scent he could detect when he used to breathe it in, remembering his hands holding her head as he used to lean in and kiss her, remembering that he had lost all of that now.

Jungkook lowered his chin, letting out a soundless cry.

“You liked my hair down, I recall,” she commented behind him, her soothing voice mirroring the rolling tide late at night.

“Y… Yeah.”

He smiled despite himself. He pulled back his handcuffed hands.

“You have lovely hair. I don’t like seeing it all tucked away.”

For a moment, there was a quietness as those words sank in. She shifted, and he heard her stand up, the sharp click of her heels indicating as much, but he kept his back to her, unsure if this was the last time he would touch her hair. The last time he hadn’t known it would be the last, so he didn’t mourn the moment until way later, but this time…

“Thank you.”

He breathed in through his nose. Oddly stuffy in here.

“Y… You’re welcome.”

He wished he could take it all back, but he couldn’t. He wished he could prove he was a better man, but he didn’t know how or even if he could. She was right. He had gotten swept up in his ambitions and the superficial relationships. He had been afraid. He had let that fear control him because he had felt out of sorts with who he was, who he was becoming, and who he wanted to be.

“I really… I really am sorry.”

They were back-to-back. Not touching. Just close enough to feel each other’s presence without seeing them. Hands behind their backs, staring in opposite directions but finally seeing the path before them.

“I know.”

She let out a soft breath.

“I wished for the way I felt to change once I could accept your apologies, but,” she whispered. “Life isn’t that simple or clear cut.”

His chest ached. “Yeah.” It didn’t matter if his actions had unintentional consequences. The consequences still existed. “You’re right. About it all. About the person I became and how I treated you because of it. About how this was because of me feeling like I don’t fit in.”

She didn’t say anything, yet Jungkook could sense her acknowledgment. He couldn’t really explain why he knew. Maybe it had something to do with their current circumstances.

“I keep trying and I… I don’t know. Maybe I’m too simple-minded. Maybe I can’t understand the world these people live in. I mean, my friends seem like normal people but there are still moments where I catch myself thinking, I wouldn’t have thought to do or say that. I feel so… disconnected, sometimes. Meaningless. Maybe I’m not worth a damn to them.”

He was rambling, slipping between his refined dialect and his Busan satoori. He caught himself, about to correct his wording.

“You don’t have to be like the people around you to fit in,” she chided.

He stopped trying to form a sentence and listened.

“You don’t listen. That has always been your strength. Your charm is your natural character with the added spice of rebellion.” Her chuckle lightened, making his heart tighten and feel like exploding at the same time. “Your talent has always been bravely walking your own path, confusing as it may be. There is a pureness in that. You have friends because they want to protect that part of you. Haven’t you noticed? Your friends have never asked you to change or be like them. They just accept you for how you are and push away people who try to mold you into their vision.”

His friends? Well, true, they were the main reasons for him getting the jobs he got. He had always felt somewhat inadequate, realizing his success was from seniors in the industry helping him out. They all told him that this was how it worked. They all told him to do well so he could get more opportunities. It was part of the reason that he felt that he couldn’t let those connections down. He had always felt that he couldn’t refuse.

“Your friends have always been on your side. They don’t want you to be like them. They want you to stay as you are. You mean that much to those around you.”

But perhaps he had been wrong all along.

“Only you thought you needed to change.”

There was probably a lot of sound outside, but the distracting racket was inaudible from the distant storeroom. Her quiet voice amplified her words in this slice of stillness. There something stricken and bitter haunting the air between them as the revelation settled.

He clutched her hairpins in his fist.

“I didn’t… I didn’t date you just because you weren’t part of this vapid world I’m in.”

He wanted her to know.

“I wish…”

The tears stung the corners of his eyes. He refused to let them go. Jungkook looked up to the ceiling, taking in each breath as steadily as he could. He felt like he was drowning, except instead of water, it was all the things he never said.

“I wish I could have been strong enough for you to be angry at me sooner. Tonight, I realized… It was my own shortcomings that made you stay quiet.” He chuckled dryly in admiration. “You endured more than I ever could. More than anyone should.” He didn’t know if he was making any sense but he kept on going. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so mad. That was the most emotion I’ve ever seen from you. You must have spent a lot of nights… feeling so alone because of my selfishness.”

This was not a romantic setting at all. They were stuck in a storeroom with no windows, surrounded by boxes, handcuffed for being a public disruption, for being too dramatic and too emotional. Neither of them could look at the other. A disaster in every sense of the world.

But.

Maybe this was the most honest moment they had ever shared.

Her laugh simmered behind him.

“I’m sorry for losing my shit.”

He half-smiled in rueful relief.

“It wasn’t so bad. Low-key kinda hot. I almost lost the plot at times.”

She laughed under her breath. “You don’t mean that.”

A single heartbeat of silence.

“I kinda do,” he admitted, feeling the upturned corners of his lips falter.

It became quiet once more. An embarrassed quiet, but maybe only on his side. Jungkook still couldn’t bring himself to turn around and find out. He shifted awkwardly, realizing he was still holding her hairpins in his hand. Uh. Well, he couldn’t exactly ask her to put them in her pocket. Did she even have any pockets with that outfit? He furrowed his brows, thinking about that tight skirt and lace corset. Doubtful there would be any pockets in such fitted clothing. Maybe in her jacket, but it was so short that he would basically have to reach for her tits to…

His face heated slightly realizing that he was heavily focusing on her body right now.

Click.

He didn’t really register the sound behind him at first. It sounded like something falling onto the concrete. There was another sharp tapping sound, but before he could shift and twist his body to see, he felt her fingertips brush against the knuckles of his fist.

“I’m sorry too.”

He was too shocked to even move or react. Just stood there wide-eyed, struck by the lightning of her touch, realizing they were that close and that it was her who initiated that.

“I should have brought up the little things that bothered me. I shouldn’t have let it snowball simply because I thought it would make your life easier. I should have tried to remind you not to be intimidated by those around you,” she sighed heavily. “And I should have believed in your apology more than I did.”

The pads of her fingertips stilled.

One by one, they lost contact.

Jungkook dropped all the hairpins on the floor in a cascade of metal raindrops.

He reached back and grabbed her hand, gripping her fingers tightly, gasping as he felt her cool skin against his warmth. He felt her initial rise of reluctance, however, she did not pull away. Their handcuffs clinked against each other, the chains colliding. He scrambled to reach a little higher. Grasping her hand in his. Her right in his right. He tried to say something. Something romantic, something reassuring, something self-derogatory even.

But nothing come out.

He tried to breathe and was choked by inner tears. Tried again, shaking, trying to be silent. Her fingers curled around the back of his hand and laid there. She gave him a light squeeze.

“Don’t worry.”

Her calming voice a dream on this night.

“I’m here.”

They held hands.

It must have been only for a short while. It felt like forever packed in minutes. He inhaled deeply, catching fleeting traces of her sweet and sultry perfume. Closed his eyes with an exhale. Another inhale, slower this time. Maybe this was futile. Maybe this was objectively wildly inappropriate. Maybe he was the fucking worst, wishing, hoping they could reset to something new. All of this could crash and burn.

Or.

Or, maybe.

He swallowed tightly. Leaned back just a little. Their shoulder blades touched. A moment of suspended anticipation. She leaned back against him. The backs of their heads didn’t yet touch. He felt her hair on his neck. It was only the tops of their backs that touched, but now there was only centimeters of trembling air between them.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice rough and nervous.

“Only a little.” Her thumb brushed against the side of his palm. “I’ll be alright.”

Yeah, he knew that. “You’re the most capable person I know.”

She sighed. “It’s not all sunshine and roses.”

He scrunched up his face in search for the words. “Well… You suit moonlight and thorns more.”

She nearly snorted. He felt her shoulders shake in silent laughter. He winced, thinking he said something wrong.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I like those better, anyway!” He blurted it out quickly. Maybe too quickly, curling a bit in on himself once he realized what he said, cringing, but she tugged on his hand ever so slightly. It was obvious she was shaking her head from her hair swishing over his neck.

“You always had a thirst for danger, Jungkook.”

Her tone was slight and playful. He felt his cheeks burn and his heart race so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe from the pressure. Nearly stuttered when he heard his name in her voice, clenching his jaw shut so he didn’t make a fool of himself. Again. His entire body tensed, on edge and vibrating from the rush of emotions.

“Are you trying to break my hand?”

He was gripping her hand way too tight. “S-Sorry!” He loosened his stiff fingers, twisting his wrist to keep his hand cupped around hers. “Sorry…”

“Heh, it’s not like you to apologize,” she teased.

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “Hey...”

Her head laid against his shoulder.

He stilled, heartbeat pounding. She looked up at the ceiling. At least, he presumed that from the angle. The back of her head touched his left shoulder, just barely. Her hair spilled against his collarbone and back, messy and free.

“I bet you have somebody. You’re too good-looking to have nobody lined up.”

Her murmur was soft and resigned. Guilty.

Her words hung in the air.

He tipped his head back, the nape of his neck against her shoulder. The patent leather of her jacket squeaked loudly under his presence. He wished. He hoped. He…

“I have someone,” he confessed.

He squeezed her hand. Their faces tilted upwards to the ceiling, and still Jungkook could recall every detail of her eyes – the way they glimmered when she smiled, the way they sparked when she was serious, the way they twinkled during all their special moments, the way they hollowed out when she turned away from him.

His fingers gently separated hers, interlocking.

The words were at the tip of his tongue.

His lips parted.

Suddenly there were loud footsteps on the other side of the heavy wood door. His ex-girlfriend jerked up in alarm. Jungkook stumbled. Both of them quickly sprang away from each other as the noisy jangle of keys was heard and then the heavy door swung open, revealing the two of them standing there, tense, now staring wide-eyed at a tall, broad-shouldered man flanked by two security guards. His black hair was perfectly parted, half brushing against his forehead and half combed back, giving a corporate feel in his tailored black suit. He was strikingly handsome by all accounts. Intense dark brown eyes, sculpted brows, full lips, stunning jawline.

Kim Seokjin wore an exasperated, annoyed expression.

He ticked his head to Jeon Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend.

“You. Come with me.”

She hesitated for a second and stepped forward, hanging her head a bit. “I sincerely apologize for the trouble I’ve caused.”

It would be expected for such a stern, posh-looking man to be harsh. Instead, Seokjin stuck his fists by his waist and sighed loudly, similarly to a disappointed grandmother scolding her favorite child.

“Haaah… come on. You’re not going to jail. I want to talk to you alone. Hey, uncuff her,” the owner of the nightclub tutted. One of the security guards went around her to unlock the handcuffs. “It took me a while to handle everything out there. At least the incident won’t be on the news or anything.” He reached out and held her elbow as she was released, steadying her balance and leading her out of the room. The guards followed, not taking a second glance back.

Jungkook frowned. “Hey, hyung–”

Seokjin whipped up and pointed a finger at him. “No. You stay here.”

Jungkook balked, offended. “What?! What about me?”

The older man glared at him like he was the naughty child. “I’ll have a conversation with you after. Stay.”

Anger boiled high. “I’m not a dog!”

Offensively, Seokjin barked back with, “You’re right. Dogs are loyal. And want to listen to people. You have the listening skills of a straw. In one end and out the other.”

The door slammed shut with finality.

Jungkook stood there, speechless, gawking at the sheer audacity.

Then he kicked the floor with a roar of impatience once Kim Seokjin’s insult finally registered. What the hell! Kim Seokjin was the one to invite him here in the first place! Seokjin was the oldest of Jungkook’s friends that took him under his wing, teaching him about various business aspects behind the scenes and making sure Jungkook knew the importance of having a good lawyer to look over his contracts. Now Seokjin had him locked up as if he was a five-year-old receiving a time out! Who did he think he was, his disciplinarian?

“What the fuck?!”

Then Jungkook ceased all movement, no longer stomping around in circles.

It was him.

Kim Seokjin had invited him here tonight.

It was him. Kim Seokjin had told him he better get his ass over here on this night in particular if he knew what was good for him. Not unusual, as his friends usually had to threaten him to go outside these days. It was you. You invited her here. It wasn’t Taehyung who invited her. He had been telling the truth all along.

“That bastard.”

Snarling, Jungkook whipped his head to the door and glared at it, fully intending to charge like a goddamn bull right into Kim Seokjin once it opened again.

I, I hear the whispers in your eyes I'll make you wanna think twice you'll find that you were never not mine you're mine

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

--

masterpost

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 8

Mo’s Kinktober Special 

The Crew’s Whore (Part 8) (+18)

!!!!!!MINORS DNI!!!!

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

WC: 2600 lol

TWs: IT’S FOOT TIME! FOOT FETISH WARNING! Man I am not even into feet but this kinda did it for me. In my brain Law is canonically into feet in a weird way. Unprotected sex, p in v sex, table sex, alcohol consuption, toe sucking lmao, just fetish shit yeah.

——

The trip to the next island was turning out to be longer than anticipated due to poor weather. The Straw Hat pirates had allied themselves with now-warlord-of-the-sea Captain Trafalgar Law and were harboring him on their ship as they sailed towards the next part of their plan as an alliance. The weather had finally turned pleasant so of course Luffy ordered Sanji to prepare a huge feast, complete with piles of steaming food and barrels of cold booze. 

Eating and drinking were two of you favorite activities, second and third only to fucking, so you were thrilled at the prospect of a little party. No one had approached you yet and asked you for your time tonight, everyone being so busy setting up for the party and all… but you expected that to change as the night went on. Because you anticipated being taken for your services tonight, you took the time to bathe and clean yourself up a little extra nice. 

You curled your hair into soft waves and spent half an hour caking your face and painting your lips a glossy sheer crimson before heading to your closet and picked out an outfit. You settled on a flouncy little baby pink dress, the layered fabric sheer and light. The soft pink hem swished high up on your thighs, leaving very little of your legs to the imagination. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to play it up even further and crouched down to grab a pair of red high heels from under your bed. You slipped on the pumps and with a final twirl in the mirror headed out to the party. 

The deck of the ship was buzzing with the sounds of your crew mates enjoying themselves. Brook was serenading the party with a jaunty tune to which Chopper and Nami were dancing, Luffy was busying himself with the sumptuous spread Sanji prepared, all while Zoro was ahead of the game and drinking himself into oblivion. Law was seated at the same table as Zoro, seemingly having much less of a nice time. The mysterious doctor was hunched over and stared emotionless into his drink, puffy brim of his hat shielding most of his face. 

You noticed your friend Robin leaning up against the back wall of the Sunny with a glass of red wine in hand and bit of a scowl on her face. 

“You don’t look pleased with the festivities.” 

“See that target they put up at the end of the ship?” Robin nods behind you. 

You turn and do indeed see a large target placed near the head of the Sunny. 

“Yeah?” You inquire. 

“Usopp and Franky keep having shooting contests. Franky keeps losing but he won’t give up. I don’t think they’ve sat down all night, and his face is as red as a tomato. Kind of embarrassing…” Robin giggles a little. 

“Are you surprised? I guess they’ll be out of our hair for the rest of the night then.” You laugh.

“That’s my point.” Robin rolls her eyes. Your brows raise in realization. 

“Ohhhh… you were trying to get laid! I get it now! Well no one’s approached me if you’re still up for it later…” You wink.  

“Thank you sweet y/n, always so thoughtful!” Robin sips her wine. “I’ll see if I can find you later if I’m still feeling up for it. Go get a drink and enjoy the party, dear!” Robin waves you on to the kitchen. 

You enter the galley and are immediately met with a very sweaty, stressed out Sanji. 

“Hi handsome.” You purr as you approach the blonde at the stove. 

“Oh, hello my love. I’m afraid the voracious appetite of our captain has rendered me incapacitated for the rest of the evening, the fucking glutton…” Sanji sighs. 

“Aww, my poor, tired, love cook.” You coo as you push his bangs out of his eyes. You place a kiss on his cheek. A droplet of blood escapes Sanji’s left nostril. “Well I’ll leave you to it then.” You grab a bottle of cold wine from the fridge and a glass from the shelf and carry them both out to the deck with you. 

You stroll over to the table where Law and Zoro were seated, now joined by Luffy whose cheeks were stuffed to bursting with various meats and cheeses. 

“You gentlemen mind if I sit with you?” You ask while already sitting down across from Law. 

“Not at all, pretty thing. Come have a drink with us.” Zoro smirks at you, holding his hand out to take the wine bottle from you. You oblige and he unsheathes a single blade to pop the cork off for you in dramatic fashion. 

“My hero.” You chide as the swordsman fills your glass to the brim. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk, Mr. Roronoa.” 

“And what if I am? You say the filthiest shit after you’ve had a whole bottle of wine and it’s fucking incredible.” Zoro shoots you a hungry look as he downs another cup of sake. Luffy giggles. Law straightens up and gives Zoro a confused look. 

“Not much of a talker, are you, Trafalgar?” You turn your attention to Law. 

“I didn’t know the two of you were a couple.” He states blankly. 

“We’re not. I’m seeing everyone.” You smirk across the table at the foreign captain. He looks even more confused. “It’s what I do. I love making my crew mates happy, you can understand that, can’t you?”

Without time to answer, Luffy interjects. 

“Haha you should give her a try, Traffy! She’s really something hehe!” 

Law’s eyes widen. 

“Yeah why not, Tra-Guy? You’re already here eating our food and drinking our booze, why not sample some of the other amenities we have here on the Sunny.” Zoro chuckles as he pours himself another cup of liquor. Zoro must be quite fond of Law, as sharing you is never something he likes to bring up. 

“I’m sorry… are you offering me… her? Shouldn’t she be doing that?” Law looks a bit offended. 

“Would that make you feel better? My services apply to guests of the Straw Hat pirates as well, and I assure you I can meet whatever needs you may have.” You swirl you wine in the glass and take a long sip. 

“Um… No.. that’s.. that’s quite alright, thank you.” Law stutters out his refusal. 

“You don’t know what you’re turning down, man. Whatever you’re into, and I mean whatever, she can do it. Sweetest pussy in the Grand Line.” Zoro leans back in his chair. 

“Zoro! Don’t be so vulgar around our guest.” You scold the swordsman. 

“Whatever, his loss.” Zoro shrugs and slams another drink. 

— — 

After hours upon hours of dancing and drinking, the party had thinned out quite a bit. Now that things were winding down, you notice the painful ache in your feet from wearing high heels all night. Most everyone had headed to bed and you were considering doing the same until you spy your unfinished bottle of wine on the table with Law still dated at it, alone now. 

You sit down across from Law and take a swig from the bottle directly, your glass having been lost several dances ago. 

“Classy.” Law remarks from across the table. 

“Never said that was part of my resume.” You smirk and take another swallow of alcohol. You pull your feet up into your lap and groan. “God this is the last fucking time I wear these heels.” 

You slip off one of your shoes and behind massaging the heel of your foot with both hands. You pause your ministrations to grab another sip of wine when you notice Law’s eyes on you. They weren’t on your breasts close to spilling out of your low cut dress, or your plush thighs squishing against the wood of the bench you were sitting on… they were on your foot in your lap. 

There it is.

Ideas filled your head on how to finally break this stoic stranger. 

“You’re a doctor, right?” You ask innocently. 

“Huh?” Law responds, having been snapped out of what seemed like a trance. “Um, yeah.” 

“Could you maybe feel right here? I think it could be swollen.” You extend your nearly naked leg across from you and push the table to the side so that there was nothing between the two of you. 

“It..i-it doesn’t look swollen… but if you really want I could… I could take a closer look…” He hesitantly up at you before returning his gaze to your perfectly pedicured foot. 

“I’d love that. Thank you.” 

Law gingerly takes your foot in both hands and presses firmly into where you were pointing. You squirm a bit, feet incredibly sore from dancing all night. Law starts to rub up and down from your toes to your heel, intently examining every inch. You couldn’t help but notice how his mouth was now parted and his breathing quickened as he stroked your foot. 

He stopped abruptly and released your foot from his hold. 

“I-it seems fine. You should be fine.” 

You drop your foot directly into his lap and push it firmly against the crotch of Law’s jeans. 

“Are you sure, doctor? I think you should check again.” You flash him a devious smile as you take another swig from the bottle. 

“W-what are you doing, y/n?” Law sputters out, sweat forming on his temples. You feel his cock begin to stir under the sole of your foot. 

“You know, Traffy, we could have a lot of fun together…” You push harder against his erection with your foot. 

Law winces but he doesn’t respond. 

“Y-yeah?” He manages to pant out. 

You begin to slowly stroke your foot over his denim clad member, feeling it from base to tip, hot and aching to be freed. 

“Mhmm… Why don’t you take him out so we can play? You’re so hard Traffy, must hurt… We’re the only ones left out here, no need to be shy anymore…” You giggle. 

Law sucks in a breath before eventually undoing his belt and jeans buttons. His cock springs up as he pulls it out his pants and briefs, laying rigid against his abdomen. 

“Wow… you have such a pretty cock, Traffy…” You coo at him as you slip your left shoe off your foot and allow it to join your other foot in his lap. 

“D-don’t call me that…” Law whispers out. 

“Sorry…” You begin rubbing both of your feet up and down Law’s now exposed length. He watches your movements in awe as his mouth hangs farther open than before. “You’re just so cute I can’t help but tease you…” 

Law pays your words no mind as he is mesmerized by the sight of your pretty little feet stroking his cock. Soft pants leave his lips as you continue working him over. 

“You wanna cum like this, or do you wanna fuck me, Law?” You ask as you slide the ball of your right foot over his leaking tip. 

Without responding verbally, Law grunts and leans forward to pick you up by your waist and lay you down roughly on the table you had scooted out of the way earlier. He rips his shirt over his head, keeping his hat in place. He wastes no time and flips up your frilly pink dress to expose your panties that had grown wet from merely giving a powerful man a foot job. 

“I’m not waiting-“ Law says as he pushes your panties to the side and slides the head of his cock from your hole to your clit and back again, coating himself in your wetness. He pushes himself inside of you quickly, causing you to moan and arch your back. After a few experimental thrusts, Law picks up a quick pace and rams his hips into yours, curved cock hitting all the right places inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck, Law that’s so oh-!” Your eyes snap open at the foreign feeling only to see Law standing between your legs with the outside few toes of your right foot in his mouth. Eyes slammed shut, he doesn’t falter in his thrusts as he savors the taste of your skin on his tongue. He uses one hand to rub at your clit as he caresses your ankle with the other. 

“Dirty boy…” You coo up at him as you rake your nails down his abdomen. “You like sucking on my toes, you filthy boy?”

“Mmmm” Law manages to groan out as he peppers wet, sloppy kisses to the sole of your foot now, making sure every inch gets his attention. 

“Make me cum and I’ll let you blow all over them.” You demand as you wrap your other leg around his waist and pull him closer. 

“Fuck… swordsman wasn’t kidding…” Law grunts out as he picks up the pace of his hips, plowing into you with an ungodly force. He untangles your legs from his body and pushes them up to your chest, allowing himself the perfect angle to heighten your pleasure. 

With hands under the crooks of your knees, Law brings you tumbling over the edge of your high and you cried out his name to the starry sky above you as your orgasm overtakes you. With your cunt still pulsing, Law pulls his aching, throbbing cock begging for release from your tight hole and begins stroking it in front of you. 

Law grabs both your ankles in one hand and proceeds to blow rope after rope of hot white spend all over your delicate, pink painted toes. 

Breathing heavily still, Law takes a few moments to admire his handiwork. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You quip from your exposed state on the table. 

Law shoves himself back into his pants and puts his shirt back on. He surprisingly takes the time to gently put your panties back into place and pull your dress down before helping you off the table. 

“You aren’t.. going to tell anyone about this… right?” He asks, hiding his eyes again with the brim of his hat. 

“About what? You liking feet?” You smirk. 

“Y-yeah…” 

“You’re secret is safe with me, Traffy.” You say with a wink. 

xx

*A/N ........ sorry :)*

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 31

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 5.1K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

You hated the way these shoes felt. The House of Wind had generously provided a pair of stunning blue pumps, but it had overlooked one crucial fact: you had about as much experience walking in heels as a baby fawn. The woods had not exactly trained you for this. You took a tentative step across your room, feeling your toes smash into the front of the shoes. While you were pleasantly surprised by your ability to balance, each mild shuffle felt like you were torturing your feet. You huffed, plopping down on the edge of the bed, your gown fanning out around you like a defeated banner as you blew a stray tendril of hair from your face.

Leaning down, you hiked the skirt up around your thighs, yanking your already reddened toes from their tiny prisons. From the doorway came a familiar chuckle, and when you glanced up, Azriel stood there, arms crossed, his wings casually fanned out behind him.

Straightening, you sat up with the shoes in hand before chucking them onto the carpet, where one heel clattered over the other. “Those are a death trap,” you declared, pointing at the offending objects.

“I could hear you cursing at them all the way down the hall,” he said, strolling over to sit next to you on the bed.

You dropped your hands into your lap, looking up at him with an exaggerated pout. “How are things downstairs?”

Azriel snorted lightly, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, you know, the usual chaos. Cassian decided to wear a different suit than the one Nesta picked out for him. Now she’s following him around, threatening to kill him in his sleep if he doesn’t change back.”

You laughed quietly, “That’s about what I expected. Anyone else here?”

Azriel rubbed his hands on his thighs, trying to dry some anxious sweat. “Elain and Lucien arrived a little while ago.”

“How’s Lucien?” you asked, curiosity piqued. Lucien had been very quiet about the ball, likely due to the complicated and still-tentative relationship between the Night and Autumn Courts.

Lucien had been navigating the treacherous waters of familial politics, attempting to reconnect with his estranged brothers. Since Eris had taken over the High Lordship—thanks to a mysteriously convenient assassination of their father—he’d been trying to mend fences with the rest of their testosterone-charged family. From what Elain had shared, Lucien and she had been attending various Autumn Court events and “family dinners,” which typically ended in a shouting match between one or more of the volatile males at the table. The couple often left before dessert, much to everyone’s relief.

Lucien’s reintegration into the Autumn Court had been rocky, to say the least. Many courtiers still viewed him with suspicion, especially after the revelation of his true paternity involving Helion. The court, with its rigid emphasis on bloodline purity, wasn’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat for him. His status was a delicate issue, and despite Eris’s attempts to shield him, Lucien was perpetually walking on eggshells.

You hadn’t yet had the pleasure—or the burden—of meeting Eris or any of Lucien’s other brothers. Tonight marked the first time Eris would attend a formal event at the House of Wind, and the stress of this high-stakes gathering was palpable. You could almost hear the collective holding of breath echoing through the grand halls.

Azriel chuckled, interrupting your thoughts. “Lucien’s playing it cool, but you can tell he’s a bit on edge. It’s like watching a fox trying to pretend it’s a housecat.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “What about you?” you asked, peering up at Azriel. He stared ahead toward the door, his usually calm demeanor slightly off-kilter. You could hear his heartbeat pumping faster than its normal steady cadence.

Azriel shook his head, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “I’m fine,” he said, though his tone betrayed a hint of unease.

You kept your gaze on him. This was one of the few times you’d seen Azriel genuinely unsettled, his usual composure slipping. “You sure?” you probed lightly, eyebrows raised in playful skepticism.

Azriel remained focused on the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your heart is beating quickly,” you replied, noting the slight rise and fall of his chest as he took a few steadying breaths, clearly trying to keep you from noticing. “You’re being more aloof than usual.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head, a mild offense coloring his expression. “Aloof?” He turned to face you, his brows knitting together. “I’m not aloof.”

You tilted your head to the side, your eyes widening with exaggerated incredulity. “Oh, come on.”

Azriel leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting with mock seriousness. “No, what do you mean by aloof? I’m not aloof.”

You pushed yourself up from the bed, rolling your eyes dramatically, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Mr. ‘I use my shadows to eavesdrop on conversations and hide from groups of people’ thinks he isn’t aloof?” You made your way into the closet, hoping to find footwear that didn’t feel like medieval torture devices.

Azriel’s voice followed you, slightly indignant. “It’s my job!”

You squatted in front of the shoe rack, lined with elegant but impractical heels you had no intention of wearing. “Isn’t there a saying that if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life?” you called back, your fingers brushing over the backs of the shoes.

With a soft, almost magical rustle, a pair of midnight blue flats with a subtle orange shimmer appeared at the end of the shelf. You glanced upwards, a smile playing on your lips as you whispered a quiet thank you to the House.

Slipping them on, you sighed in relief, feeling like you’d been freed from a mini prison. You straightened your dress and walked back into the main room where Azriel now lay sprawled out on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge, feet touching the floor, his back and wings spread across the blankets as he stared at the ceiling.

He glanced sideways at you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You really think I’m aloof?”

You rolled your eyes again, walking over and wrapping your hand around the bedpost. “I think you’re introverted,” you replied, leaning your head against the wood, a teasing glint in your eyes. “And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“Doesn’t that just make me charming and mysterious?” he asked, winking mischievously.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “If you have to plant the seed of charm and mystery in someone’s head, I think that answers your own question.” You pushed off the bedpost, moving to check yourself in the mirror.

The reflection staring back at you was almost unrecognizable. Your cheeks, once gaunt and shadowed, now had a healthy, rosy hue. Your eyes, once dull and lifeless, sparkled with a light you hadn’t seen in ages. The dark circles that had seemed a permanent fixture had faded. You looked more alive, and it was a feeling you were still trying to get used to.

You heard the rustle of the bed as Azriel sat up. Glancing at him in the mirror, you threw him a small smile. “I just want to make sure you’re doing okay,” you said.

Azriel met your gaze in the reflection, his expression softening. “I should be the one worried about you,” he replied, rising and pulling down the legs of his pants, straightening his jacket over his broad shoulders.

You turned to face him, leaning your hips against the dressing table, hands braced on either side. “Doesn’t mean I can’t also be concerned about your wellbeing.”

Azriel gave a tight smile, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. “I just don’t love these parties.”

Your own amused smile glimmered to your face as you crossed the room to him, your hands reaching up to straighten the collar of his jacket. The fabric was smooth and cool under your fingers, and you noticed the subtle blue threads woven into the dark cloth, catching the light with a gentle shimmer. Azriel’s eyes softened further, following your movements with a warmth that sent a flutter through your chest.

Satisfied with the collar’s alignment, you met his gaze, his eyes lingering on you with a gentle intensity. You patted his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the finely tailored suit. “That’s the aloof part coming out.”

Azriel scoffed, rolling his eyes and pushing back slightly, though his lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “I prefer enigmatic.”

You laughed lightly, gripping his arm as he tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” you drawled playfully. “Just was an easy shot.” You held onto his jacket a bit tighter as he pulled you to him, wrapping you in a bear hug. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric.

“You’re insufferable,” he whispered, shaking you lightly, the vibrations making you giggle.

“And yet you suffer me,” you retorted, your face buried in his chest, muffling your laughter against the soft fabric.

Azriel released you, “Every day is a new day of suffering when you’re around,” he teased back.

From down the hall, the faint strains of violins and piano floated up the stairs, their melodies intertwining in a harmonious dance. 

Azriel sighed, looking down at you with a tight smile, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. “We should go down.”

You nodded as Azriel extended his elbow to you, the gesture almost comically formal. You stared at it, one brow arching incredulously. “Are we really these kinds of fae now?”

“Well, might as well put on a good show,” he responded, his lips quirking into a playful grin.

Wrapping your hands around his forearm, you felt the solid strength beneath his sleeve, the warmth of his skin through the fabric. His muscles relaxed slightly as your fingers pressed into him.

You and Azriel stepped out of the room, the soft glow of faelights casting a gentle sheen on the polished floorboards as you walked down the hall towards the source of the merry strains. The music grew louder, filling the air with a sense of festivity.

“I feel ridiculous,” you whispered, the dress rustling softly with each step.

“You should see how you look,” Azriel taunted, his tone light and teasing.

You gave him a hearty elbow in the stomach, feeling the firmness of his muscles under your nudge, though it barely moved him. “Kidding,” he quickly followed up, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You look great.”

As you and Azriel descended the sweeping marble staircase, the strains of music grew ever more pronounced, each note reverberating through the grand hall and mingling with the fluttering of your heartbeat. The staircase was bathed in the soft glow of faelight, casting intricate patterns on the polished stone beneath your feet, and the opulent banister, adorned with golden filigree, gleamed in the ambient light. Azriel’s reassuring squeeze on your hand anchored you as you reached the bottom.

You pushed open the ornate double doors to the grand ballroom, your breath catching in your chest at the sight that unfolded before you. While you had been involved with the planning and decorations, the transformation of the space was nothing short of breathtaking. The room was a living, breathing embodiment of elegance, a symphony of colors, lights, and textures that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

The ceiling soared above you, draped with cascading garlands of autumn leaves, their hues shifting from deep crimson to burnished gold, interwoven with shimmering strands of faelight. Chandeliers hung like glittering constellations, their crystal prisms scattering light in a thousand rainbows that danced across the gleaming floor. The walls were lined with tall, arched windows, their mullions draped in rich velvet curtains of deep blue.

The great hall was alive with movement and music, the harmonious melodies of violins and a grand piano filling the air, their notes weaving through the laughter and conversations of the fae in attendance. Fae of all courts glided across the floor in a whirlwind of flowing gowns and finely tailored suits, the vibrant fabrics swishing and swirling in time with the music. The variety of attire was dazzling, each ensemble more intricate and resplendent than the last.

You marveled at the Autumn Court attendees, their attire reflecting the splendor of their season. Gowns of fiery red, rich burgundy, and shimmering gold adorned the fae, their outfits detailed with delicate embroidery depicting leaves and vines, and accented with gemstones that sparkled like embers. The Night Court fae wore attire that mirrored the midnight sky, with deep blues, blacks, and silvers, their clothing often adorned with subtle, luminescent patterns that caught the light like distant stars. Spring courtiers flashed about in pastels and soft silks, while Day court attendees were drenched in golden jewelry.

You took in the sight of the dancers, their movements graceful and fluid as they twirled and spun across the floor. The room was a kaleidoscope of motion, the fae weaving in and out, their laughter a musical accompaniment to the live orchestra that played on a raised platform. Couples waltzed beneath the glittering chandeliers, their steps perfectly synchronized with the lilting strains of the music, their faces illuminated with joy.

Azriel’s hand tightened around yours, pulling you gently from your reverie. He led you into the room, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. His eyes, always sharp and vigilant, softened as he took in your wide-eyed wonder. “You look like you’ve seen magic for the first time,” he murmured, his voice carrying a note of fond amusement.

Your gaze darted around the room, trying to absorb every detail. “It’s just… it’s so much more than I imagined,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Azriel smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Nesta outdid herself, didn’t she?”

You nodded, your eyes tracing the path of a garland that wove its way around the towering columns, each leaf seeming to flutter in an unseen breeze. “She did,” you agreed, your voice filled with awe. “It’s like stepping into a dream.”

It seemed that merely speaking her name conjured her, as Nesta, the ever-diligent hostess, glided through the throng of partygoers. Her face lit up in a bright smile the moment she spotted you, her eyes sparkling under the golden faelight. Her gown was nothing short of breathtaking: a flowing cream masterpiece with a high neckline and intricate pearl embroidery that darkened elegantly as it reached her neck. Her hair was an intricate marvel of its own, braided into a low bun adorned with tiny golden stars that shimmered delicately between the plaits.

“Y/N!” she greeted, her voice breaking into a smile as she reached out and clasped your hands, her touch warm and reassuring. “You look stunning!” she exclaimed, stepping back to take in your ensemble, her eyes dancing with delight as she looked you up and down.

“Look at you?!” you countered, motioning with a sweep of your hand over her exquisite gown.

Nesta smirked, gracefully lifting the skirt of her dress and giving it a playful twirl. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” she said, her voice brimming with pride and amusement.

From behind you, Azriel chimed in, his tone softer, “You look beautiful, Nesta.”

Nesta’s gaze shifted over your shoulder, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Azriel’s appearance. Her tongue pressed into her cheek, and a mischievous glint lit up her eyes. “Well, well, well, the Shadowsinger cleans up nicely.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Nesta’s expression softened, her smile turning genuine as she gave Azriel an appreciative nod. “You look great, Az.” Then, her attention snapped back to you. She lifted the upper skirt of your dress lightly, examining the material with a keen eye. “The House really outdid itself, didn’t it?”

You felt a small rush of gratitude, though it quickly turned to mild embarrassment as Nesta’s eyes narrowed slightly, her brows knitting together when she noticed your lack of heels.

You quickly smoothed down the dress, offering her an apologetic smile. “I couldn’t do the shoes.”

Nesta's eyes twinkled with amusement as she tilted her head. “I’m just impressed you convinced it to let you wear flats. The House usually prefers heels.”

You sighed in relief, your shoulders relaxing. “Well, I think it saw me struggling to take steps and decided not to let me scuff the floors all night.”

Nesta laughed, the sound warm and light. “I guess I’ll have to complain more.” She glanced over your shoulder, her eyes catching someone’s attention as she raised a hand to wave. “I have to do the rounds,” she said, already moving away, her attention shifting to the fae she was flagging down. “But I’ll see you a little later?”

You nodded, returning her smile. “Definitely.”

As she disappeared into the crowd, you turned to find Azriel leaning casually against the wall, his posture relaxed yet alert, his eyes scanning the sea of bodies. You joined him, standing close to his side. “I said hi to Nesta. Can we leave now?” you joked, a playful tone in your voice.

“I wish,” he grumbled, though his eyes softened as he looked at you.

You took a moment to absorb the scene, the room alive with color and movement. Gowns of deep emeralds, shimmering golds, and striking crimsons twirled in the warm glow of the chandeliers. The soft strains of violins wove through the air, mingling with the quiet hum of laughter and conversation. It felt as if you had stepped into a painting.

As you turned to comment, Azriel muttered something under his breath, his eyes narrowing. Before you could ask, he gently grasped your arm, pulling you closer with a surprising urgency.

You were about to protest when another male approached, cutting a striking figure in a white tunic with a low-cut V-neck, embroidered with swirling red and orange leaves along the collar, and a deep maroon jacket that framed his muscular frame. His skin, a creamy canvas, was freckled like a dusting of autumn leaves. The voice that crooned like smoldering embers purred, “Azriel. It’s been too long.”

You glanced up, taking in the male’s sharp, chiseled features—a jawline as defined as his toned chest, russet eyes flecked with gold, and ginger curls styled back with a hint of rebellion. His lower lip, full and inviting, curved into a smile that revealed dimples at the corners, adding a touch of charm to his otherwise imposing presence.

Azriel’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, a barely audible growl rumbling in his throat. The red-haired male’s grin was sharp, laced with a poison that seemed designed to provoke Azriel.

“Philip,” Azriel responded, his voice strained, almost choking on the name.

Philip’s eyes flicked over Azriel with predatory ease, sizing him up with a single glance. “You look halfway decent,” he said, his tone dripping with calculated condescension.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his response terse, “As do you.”

Philip’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes lingering on where Azriel’s hand rested on your arm, as if he were contemplating where to place his own claim. His smile widened into a feline curl. “And who is this,” he paused, eyes sweeping over you, “stunning creature?”

Azriel took a deep, steadying breath, his fingers tracing the length of your arm to settle possessively on your lower back. “This is Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet restrained, his jaw clenching ever so slightly.

Philip’s smile broadened, his long fingers extending towards you. “Exquisite,” he murmured, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to it that lingered just a fraction too long. Azriel’s muscles tensed beside you, his grip tightening as Philip’s lips touched your skin.

When Philip straightened, his eyes darted back to Azriel, a flicker of satisfaction in their depths. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you?” he purred, his voice a silken caress.

Azriel exhaled sharply through his nose, his breath a barely restrained growl. “I’m a friend of Nesta’s,” you interjected, your smile syrupy sweet. You sensed the animosity crackling between the two males and refused to become a pawn in their unspoken battle.

Philip’s auburn brows arched, his head tilting in feigned curiosity. “I wasn’t aware Nesta kept such,” his gaze swept over you again, “delectable company.”

Your smile turned razor-sharp, your voice laced with saccharine defiance. “I like to think I elevate her tastes.”

Philip’s eyes glittered with amusement, his smile twisting into something more predatory. “Azriel,” he said, his tone almost playful, as he shifted his attention back to the Shadowsinger, “would you mind if I borrowed this,” his eyes flicked back to you, “most enchanting creature for a dance?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched visibly, his eyes narrowing as he fought to keep his composure. “Actually,” he began, his voice low and measured, “we were just about to—”

You placed a hand on Azriel’s chest, feeling the tension radiating from him. “It’s alright,” you said softly, though your eyes remained locked on Philip’s. “I wouldn’t want to deprive him of a dance.”

You felt Azriel’s fingers flex lightly on your back, a silent plea for caution. Before he could respond, you cut in, your voice laced with a subtle challenge, “I’m sure I don’t need Azriel to give me permission.”

Philip’s smile widened, a wolfish grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Quite right,” he purred, extending his hand with an elegant, yet predatory flourish. You slipped your own into his grip, which tightened more than you liked, a vice masked as politeness. As he led you into the undulating crowd, you glanced back at Azriel. His eyes blazed, shadows pooling around his feet, his jaw set in a rigid line. You gave him a small nod, brows arching in reassurance, though it felt like a lie even to yourself.

Philip maneuvered you through the mass of swirling fae, his hand sliding possessively low on your hip, just shy of indecency. The kiss he planted on your hand was a charade of gallantry, a veneer over his palpable menace. He drew you close, the fabric of your dress whispering as it brushed against his maroon jacket, which seemed almost aflame under the ballroom’s lights.

His gaze pierced yours, an intensity that made your skin prickle. “So, why are you really here?” he murmured, his breath warm and dangerously close to your ear.

You moved with calculated grace, the swish of your dress a soft counterpoint to the music. “I’m sorry?” you replied, maintaining an air of innocent confusion.

“You’re not a court member,” Philip continued, his eyes flicking over you, assessing. “I’ve never seen nor heard of you. Your dancing lacks formal training,” he added, his voice dripping with condescension, “and you’re not even wearing heels.” His gaze flicked to your flats, though you resisted the urge to look down. “But most intriguingly, Azriel seems to have an interest in you. So, tell me, how did you infiltrate this social circle?”

The sugary sweetness in your tone dissipated, replaced by a cold edge. “Are you implying that I don’t belong here?”

Philip spun you into a light twirl, his grip tightening as you moved. “I’m simply saying it’s curious that the Night Court is now taking in strays.”

You swallowed the sting of his words, your voice icy. “Perhaps I’m just good company.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Philip conceded, his smile curling like smoke. “But good company doesn’t grant one the right to sit at the high lord and lady’s table.”

You matched his calculated turn with your own precision. “I’m not at their table.”

“But you’re living in their home,” he countered smoothly, pulling you closer, his chest brushing against yours. His eyes bore down on you, every inch the predator.

“Nesta and Cassian’s home,” you corrected sharply, trying to create even a semblance of space between you, though his grip remained ironclad.

Philip’s gaze never wavered, his expression one of calculated menace. “And what exactly is your business with Azriel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart pounding, your composure slipping for just a fraction of a second.

A low growl rumbled from Philip’s chest. “My initial question was how much he was paying for your company tonight.”

The shock of his words hit you like a blow, but you recovered swiftly, though your pulse thundered in your ears. Your voice as sharp as broken glass. “I appreciate that you think I would be worth paying for, but I’m afraid I’m not in that business.”

Philip's purr deepened, an unsettling sound as he spun you again, his grip unyielding. “How much would you charge?” he asked, his words laced with a sickly sweetness that made your skin crawl.

“More than you could afford,” you snapped back, your smile a brittle veneer as he pulled you into him once more, the heat of his body oppressive.

“You may underestimate my affluence,” Philip countered, his voice a dangerous whisper.

“Philip,” you retorted, spinning out and back in, your movements more forceful. “There’s no amount in the world that would make me climb into your bed.”

For a moment, his mask slipped, irritation flashing across his face before he smoothed it away, his predatory smile reasserting itself. “You think highly of yourself.”

You lifted your chin defiantly. “Like I said, I elevate Nesta’s standards.”

“Indeed,” Philip said, his teeth flashing in a grin that was all sharp edges.

The music tapered off, the notes fading into a hum as applause rippled through the ballroom. Yet, Philip’s hold on you didn’t loosen, his eyes locked onto yours in a predatory stare, each of you testing the other’s resolve.

A familiar voice, deep and commanding, cut through the tension. “Philip,” Cassian announced, his presence a sudden, imposing shadow behind you.

Philip’s eyes flicked up above your head, his cocky grin faltering as Cassian loomed behind you, a massive figure even compared to the imposing Autumn Court heir. “Cassian,” Philip greeted, his tone strained but polite.

“I’ve been sent to retrieve this one,” Cassian announced, his heavy, reassuring hand settling on your shoulder like a comforting anchor.

Philip’s gaze returned to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to find a reason to hold on just a bit longer. The rumble of his voice vibrated through you. “Well then, thank you for the dance,” he purred, the murmur originating from deep within his chest where it pressed against yours.

You felt an odd mix of relief and lingering discomfort as Philip finally released you, the phantom sensation of his hands still lingering on your hips and back. You stumbled slightly into Cassian, who steadied you with his hands, broad and firm, gripping your shoulders. “The pleasure was all mine,” Philip finished, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

Cassian turned you from Philip, effectively blocking him from your view with his substantial frame. The sensation of taking your first full breath in what felt like ages was almost overwhelming. Had you even breathed since you set foot on the dance floor? You weren’t sure.

Cassian leaned in, his voice low and reassuring, “Way to hold your own out there.” You could hear the amusement in his tone, a contrast to the dread still buzzing in your veins.

As you navigated through the crowd, which parted effortlessly before Cassian like waves before a ship, you scanned the sea of faces for Nesta, expecting her to be at your destination. But instead, the crowd parted to reveal Azriel, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a shadow of tension easing from his features as his eyes found yours.

Turning to Cassian, who, you now noticed, wore a suit that clashed hilariously with Nesta’s meticulously chosen ensemble, you asked, “Didn’t Nesta need something?”

Cassian chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest. “I have no clue. I’ve been avoiding her all night.” He steered you right up to Azriel, flashing him a triumphant grin. “Mission accomplished.”

Azriel merely rolled his eyes, though his posture relaxed a fraction. “What mission?” you asked, still feeling the residual tremor in your voice.

“The one where I get you away from Philip so Azriel doesn’t rip his spinal cord out and beat him with it,” Cassian replied cheerfully, clapping a hand on your shoulder as if you’d just completed a particularly grueling training session.

Azriel let out an exasperated scoff, his eyes darting to you with a mixture of apology and frustration. “No, I asked you to see if they were almost done dancing.”

Cassian shrugged, holding out his hands in mock innocence. “You asked me to ‘check in’ and ‘intervene’ if I thought things were going poorly. With my expert training,” he puffed his chest out slightly, a theatrical gesture, “I assumed things weren’t going well.”

You felt Cassian’s grip loosen slightly as he craned his neck around. “I gotta go,” he said hurriedly, his eyes wide with a flash of panic. He quickly melted back into the throng of party-goers.

Turning to see why he left so abruptly, you spotted Nesta bearing down on him with a glare that could cut diamonds. Her eyes were narrowed, a storm brewing behind them. It was clear that Cassian had sensed the oncoming tempest and had wisely chosen to make a swift exit.

You shifted your gaze back to Azriel, who was chewing on his lower lip, his leg bouncing restlessly against the wall. His eyes met yours, concern etched into his expression. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

You nodded, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “Yeah.”

Azriel’s gaze sharpened, reading the unease in your stance. “Need a break?” he suggested, his tone laced with understanding.

You nodded again, more fervently this time.

“Let’s go get some air,” Azriel said, his voice soothing as he pushed off the wall. His hand found its way to your lower back, guiding you gently but firmly. The warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the lingering chill left by Philip, and though you flinched slightly at first, you allowed Azriel’s hand to remain there.

He steered you through the crowd, his path straight and purposeful. The swirl of colors and the murmur of conversations blurred around you as you focused on the cool promise of the outdoors. Azriel navigated through the sea of fae with ease, his hand never leaving your back.

Reaching a set of glass balcony doors, he pushed one open, and the rush of cool air hit you like a soothing balm. The tension that had coiled around you inside the ballroom began to unravel. You stepped out onto the balcony, the night air crisp and refreshing against your heated skin. The moonlight bathed the balcony in a soft glow, casting long shadows that danced gently with the breeze and as you took a slow breath out, the tendrils of mist curled out into the night. 

To my readers, I promise I will get consistent with my 12:00 posting again. Life has just thrown a few curveballs my way: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @rhysandorian @loglady00 @caninne

[theodoreangelos]

White Peter Kaiser 8.5 cm (3.4″) High Heel Stiletto Pumps Diona This elegant model from the Peter Kaiser brand should not be missing from any shoe collection. Soft white leather, a silver shimmer and a feminine design make this pump stand out. The Diona model has a leather sole and is lined with leather on the inside. Peter Kaiser

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Fall Wardrobe Essentials

Staple Tees:

**Purchase in Modal, Pima cotton, or a cotton-cashmere blend**

Fitted crewneck tees (long-sleeves/tees & tanks for layering)

Relaxed fit long-sleeve tees

Turtleneck long-sleeve top (fitted & relaxed fit options)

Contour bodysuits

Blouses/Shirting:

Silk button-down blouse

Cotton button-down blouse

Silk shell top/t-shirts/camis (for layering)

Sculpt knit top(s)

Self-tie wrap blouse

Shirred boatneck, mock neck, or cowlneck silk blouse(s)

Leather button-down

Knitwear:

Thin cashmere/wool crewneck sweater (fitted/relaxed fit)

Thin cashmere/wool turtleneck sweater

Chunky relaxed-fit cable knit sweater

Knit polo-neck sweater

Cashmere sweater vest (crewneck, v-neck, and/or turtleneck)

Mockneck cashmere/wool sweater

Cashmere long-sleeve sweater dress

Cashmere/knit skirt (mini, midi, or maxi - depending on your personal preferences)

Sophisticated coordinating knit set (top/pants or skirt of your choice)

Casual knit set (top/pullover and relaxed fit pants)

Cashmere cardigan

Cable knit cardigan (doubles as a light jacket)

Bottoms:

Black straight-leg jeans

Black bootcut/flared jeans

Black straight/bootcut trousers

Wide-leg trousers (I love a solid black, black pinstripe, and black with lace-up detail selection)

High-waisted leather pants

Split hem trousers

Stretch jersey/cashmere pants (straight-leg or flared)

Quilted leather/tweed mini skirt

Knit/wool mini and/pencil skirt

Leather skirt (mini or midi)

Silk midi skirt

Dresses/Jumpsuits:

Knit/sweater dress

Little black dress (shift dress/A-line cuts are great)

Blazer dress/jumpsuit

Slip dress (for layering)

Minimal black jumpsuit ("LBJ")

Leather and/or denim dress or jumpsuit

Jackets & Outerwear:

Black tailored blazer

Leather blazer

Tweed jacket

Trench coat

Leather moto/cropped/bomber jacket

Black wool coat

Raincoat ( I like Rains for high-quality options on the affordable side that are still built to last for several seasons)

Statement jacket/coat

Footwear:

Sleek flat/low-heel black boots with a pointed-toe or square-toe silhouette (I love Vagabond, Jeffrey Campbell, Vince Camuto, and Sam Edelman for more affordable, high-quality options)

Black loafers/sleek black flats

Black lace-up boots

Black heeled boots

Black pumps

White sneakers

Rain boots (I recommend the Melissa Shoes Welly/Grip/Step boots or a stylish, sustainable, and more affordable option)

Accessories:

White/black ankle & crew socks

Black control top tights

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Chunky/small chain necklaces & bracelets

Simple pendant necklace(s)

Pearl necklace

Simple diamond studs

Crystal drop earrings

Minimalist bangles

Stackable rings

A sleek, minimalist black tote (can fit a laptop for work/travel)

Black shoulder bag

Small black bag (top handle, crossbody, etc.)

Statement bag/evening bag

Cashmere scarf

Silk/decorative scarf

Fingerless/touch-screen friendly, lightweight gloves

Lingerie/Loungewear:

Seamless bra/underwear

Lace bra/underwear

Matching pullover cotton sweatshirt/sweatpants

Knit or jersey cotton top/lounge pants set

Luxurious pajama set (silk, Tencel, cashmere, etc.)

A to-die-for piece of lingerie like a lace slip/silk teddy

Silk or cozy robe

Cozy open-back slippers

[taylorswiftstyle]

Out and about | New York City, NY | December 5, 2023

Jimmy Choo x Jean Paul Gaultier 'Leather Wedge Pumps' - $2,450.00

One of Taylor’s go-to heel brands is Jimmy Choo so opting for this brand doesn’t necessarily come as a surprise, but what does is the bolder choice to go with this limited edition shoe co-designed with JPG.

The design takes what’s otherwise a regular pointed black pump and gives it a twist with a plexi wedge heel - modernizing the stiletto and also giving it an artistic form.

The pointed toe is also not typically something that Taylor opts for, but its elongated silhouette once again (to me) calls back to that Miss Americana red carpet outing where she also (again, rare occasion) opted for pointed toe boots. Given that in the last week we’ve seen multiple high profile business accomplishments in the press by Taylor (highest grossing tour by Billboard, Most Intriguing Person by People, 5th most powerful woman in the world by Forbes), it doesn’t feel like a stretch to me that she’d be revelling in a shoe that feels more powerful by extension and business-y.

Another fun fact? The wedge was designed to reference the “iconic architectural landmarks of the two brands' home cities: Paris with the Tour Eiffel and London with Big Ben asymmetrically encased inside each heel.” An interesting homage.

Worn with: Stella McCartney coat and skirt, VRAI + Jacquie Aiche + Louis Vuitton jewelry, and Sheertex tights

Photo by James Devaney via Getty

[the-head-ancho-chilli]

Demon Slayer Characters and if I Think They Can Walk in Heels

I SWEAR IM NOT DEAD

Now that I’ve moved into my new place, I’m just trying to get some stuff sorted out so apologies for the delay, I swear I’m working on your requests T_T

In the meantime, here’s this post that I finished a few days ago that I started during finals season

Enjoy!

Word count: 1.4k~

Part 1 (you're here!), Part 2 (coming soon), Part 3 (coming soon)

Modern au-ish...

Mitsuri Kanroji

She doesn't really wear heels unless she's going out somewhere

Mitsuri will wear heels if you take her to a club, a date, a restaurant, and any other nicer event

But honestly, she prefers running shoes!

They're convenient, comfortable, and they tend to match their outfits more often than not

Do not get me wrong, Mitsuri can definitely rock a pair of heels

I would say that the highest she can go is six inch heels and that's it

Anymore than that and she's wobbling

Mitsuri's favourite pair of heels is a knee high gladiator sandal that's all gold, and maube about 4-5 inches high?

It pairs lovely with her favourite dresses and skirts, especially when she's going out of her way to turn a few heads

I also think that she's the most graceful out of everyone here

Overall 9/10 she absolutely slays this

Obanai Iguro

He thinks it's stupid that he needs to clarify this at all

Can Obanai walk in heels? Without a doubt

Your next question should be if Obanai chooses to wear heels

And shockingly, he does

I think that Obanai will sometimes wear a two inch loafer heel just for some added height

Hella confident in them too, look at him go

Obanai will totally wear them to work, class, or anywhere he feels like putting on a little bit of effort into what he's wearing

I think on more fancier occasions, like a high end date or club, he might wear some pointed toe stilettos with a nice pair of slacks

Honestly he's not really one to exclude heels from his wardrobe, he's just weirded out by how fascinated people are on this topic

8/10, nailed it

Tengen Uzui

Do I think Tengen can wear heels? I know for a fact he can

But I just think that he never does because he can never find any in his size

Poor guy

To be fair, this man is fucking huge

I even have problems finding boots that fit my calves, deep down in my heart I know that Tengen has it so much worse

Cause even if he manages to find something that fits his foot, it might not fit the rest of his leg

He's actyally really devestated about it

All he wants is a nice pair of pumps to match Hina, Suma and Makio

And maybe a pair of lobster claws...

3/10, a slay in theory but not in practice

I WILL GIVE HIM THIS, if he manages to pay for a custom pair of heels, he will probably rival with Mitsuri in who looks the best in heels

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He says he can walk in heels

But I assure you, he cannot

I think that Sanemi is lowkey intimidated by the results of the other Hashira on this list and now he's in too deep to back down

So when asked if he can wear heels, he will lie to your face

"Obviously, you think I'm gonna allow a pair of shoes to get the best of me?"

Sanemi, you've got a big storm coming

All his machoness goes away the second that he puts them on

Why is he walking with his knees out...

He's not even wearing stilettos, no

Sanemi's wearing three inch cork wedges

They don't really suit his style so he'll never go out of his way to wear them

I think after embarassing himself like this, he's never going to want to learn how to walk in them

-2/10 Sanemi you fucked around and found out huh

Shinobu Kocho

Can absolutely strut in six inch heels no problem

I think that Shinobu wears heels often, especially if she's going to be out in public where she is certain she's going to encounter someone she knows

But I don't think she enjoys wearing them

In some way I think Shinobu wears heels on a semi-daily basis to compensate for her short stature

She wants to be on equal standing with others and in a way, this is her way fo tring to achieve that

Two inch boots aren't going to stop her from being taken seriously

She does try to find some light in her circimustance though

Her favourite pair are these cute mary janes, and she has another pair with a platform sole

So even if you see her wearing heels, please don't mistake that she finds them powerful to wear

It's more of a social thing really

7/10, I wish she had a better experience :/

Kyojuro Rengoku

I am going to say this as nicely as I can

Please be patient with him, he's learning T_T

He can still get to where he needs to go, he just looks a little unstable???

Kyojuro would really appreciate if you held his hand a little

Though I will say, he is enthusiastic about learning!

In a few months he can probably walk just fine in them

I don't think that he would wear them to work or on a date, but he might if he's going to a particular event where you try to look better than usual

Like a high end club or exclusive event, he'll probably wear something classy

I think his go to is wither a pair of corset heels or high blocks

Obanai is lowkey jealous because Kyojuro doesn't really need the extra hight

4/10, keep up the hard work :)

Giyu Tomioka

My first instinct was to immediately put Giyu on the 'Not Allowed' list

A hunch just told me that he would somehow cause more trouble if he wore any

But I considered it further and came to this conlcusion

Giyu can and will walk in heels, just nothing above three inches

He tried walking in four inch platforms and he was nearly tripping every two minutes

And if Tengen sees him exiting his apartment wearing them again he will not hesitate to put those things back where they came from

Giyu does like wearing heels though, even if he's not allowed to wear very high ones

Only wears them if he's going to a club though

His favourite pair is a professional looking pair of blue, beige and black slingbacks with a three inch heel

5/10, but he's walking on thin ice

Gyomei Himejima

I don't think that Gyomei could walk in heels smoothly, but he can certainly get from point A to B

He just can't do it gracefully

If Gyomei walks in heels, he won't ever admit that he's struggling and he'll insist that he's walking just fine

But he has his arms outstretched like he's walking on a tightrope

It's honestly just not his thing, and I don't think he would be able to incorporate it with his current wardrobe

Even if he had the desire to learn, I think he would hear the struggle that Tengen's going through and just give up

He already has to go on a lengthy search to find anything to fit him regularly, let alone a pair of heels

2/10 I can't say I would recommend this for him, no

Muichiro Tokito

You know those pictures of kids wearing their mom's heels?

And their foot barely fits in the shoe?

And they just look so awkwardly out of place?

That's Muichiro

Poor baby

I think he has some growing to do before he's going to learn how to walk in them

But Muichiro definitely wants to learn!

Given how his sense of style is usually baggy or loose fitting clothes, I can see him maybe going to Obanai for style advice in the future

Probably nothing high or flashy either, just probably a pair of classy heeled boots

I just don't think it's for him right now, at his current stature

Muichiro just looks a little bit out of place in them right now though...

1/10, maybe when you're a bit older buddy

꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚

Thanks for reading! I have two more parts of this prompt with the slayers and demons so I should be sending that out in a while. I’m also working on a Kyojuro request and I’m hoping to have it out soon, so stay tuned lovelies ^^

Also thank you all for 200 followers, I swear I’ll work harder so I can post more often! I’ll be working on some requests in the meantime :)

Asks and requests are still open, just please read the rules before submitting anything ;)

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

Tequilla's first adventure!

"Are you ready for your first trip, TQ?"

Tequilla grips his messenger bag and nods, bouncing on his heels out of excitement.

Their sibling flaps their hands excitedly. "Okay, just remember th' rules: no wanderin' off without tellin' Papa, no dangerous activities, and remember to hold on tightly to Papa's tail while we travel. Oh, and you're probably gonna feel dizzy while we travel. I'm experienced so I won't get sick!" Poll exclaims proudly. They've been discussing this trip with Stardust for a while now, wanting Tequilla to finally get to experience a "Star Trip" as Poll puts it.

Poll ensures their flower crown is on snuggly, then tugs on one of Stardust's wings. "We're ready papa!"

Stardust nods and, within a blink, the family is standing in a small forest clearing.

Poll paws at their eyes, fighting off dizziness, while Tequilla shakes their scales from head to tail.

"Weird." He mumbles.

"Mmhm," Poll hums, "but papa picked out a good spot. It says that there's this really pretty flower field nearby, and th' ocean a little ways behind us s'really pretty at this time of year."

Tequilla stares off into the woods, distant.

"...Where...?" He asks.

"Oh, uh.." Poll looks up at papa for a moment, head tilted. "Papa says we're several island down the archipelago, apparently."

Tequilla points at a spot. "Look."

"A... path? What'sa path doin' all the way out here?" Poll questions. They look a little ways past the trees, trailing the path with their eyes. "...D'you wanna investigate? Maybe there's some kind of secret thingy someone's left behind, like treasure!" It bounces on its toes, secondary wings flapping.

Tequilla nods, hesitantly.

Poll squeals happily. "Is that okay with you, Papa?" Stardust stares at Poll, communicating in the way they always have. Poll chirps, "Okay papa! we'll be careful!" It takes it's brother's hand and walks quickly down the path. "So whatdoya think we'll find at the end of this? Shinies?" They gasp. "What if it's a super cool powerup that'll let us fly super duper high like the birds?"

"I hope it's toys." Tequilla whispers.

"Toys would be super cool!" Poll shouts. "Wait wait, I think I can see something, c'mon TQ-" Poll runs ahead, dragging the increasingly excited Tequilla behind them.

They stop short as the structure comes into view.

"Woah." Tequilla mumbles.

"Is that...?"

"A house?"

Tequilla nods.

"D'you think anyone lives there?"

He shakes his head, pointing towards the house. "Vines."

"Yeah, it looks like noone has lived here for a little while. I didn' even know there were people livin' this far out on the archipelago. Where d'you think they've gone?"

Tequilla ponders for a moment, then shrugs.

"The d-door is open." Tequilla points out.

"That sounds like an invitation t' me," Poll grins devilishly, "Let's look around."

"This place looks like noone has been in here in months." Poll observes. "Oh, they have a super cool TV, too! Maybe if th' owners of this place don't mind, we can make this our cool hangout spot. Like a treehouse but cooler!"

"Only i-if I g-get the top fl-floor." Tequilla compromises. Poll pumps their fist then looks up, ears perked.

"There's an upstairs! Let's go look at it." Poll drags Tequilla up the spiral staircase to the first door, sticking their heads out of the frame.

Poll gasps. "It's a pool! It looks kinda nasty though... Oh there's sunbathing towels too!"

"Beach tow-els." Tequilla corrects.

His sibling thwaps him with her tail. "Picky. There's 5 towels, d'you think that that many people lived here? That seems like a lot." Poll looks at each towel. "Aw man, they've got your color but not mine."

Tequilla points at the bundled up blue towel.

"Yeah but 's'not my blue." They whine.

TQ rolls his eyes. "Next door?" He glances up the stairway, tail flicking.

"Yeah, maybe that's where they keep their goodies!" Poll cheers. "Or maybe the bones of the previous owners are up there!" They wiggle their fingers menacingly. Tequilla snorts and ascends the stairs until they meet a short door. It takes some force to open, but eventually the door releases.

Both go silent.

"TQ? Is this...?"

"A Kid's room." Tequilla confirms Poll's suspicions.

"It's so dusty..." Poll reaches for one of the signs. "Like noone's been in here for a very long time." Poll pulls their wings tight against their body. "Maybe they just moved away, right TQ?"

"..."

"..TQ?" Poll repeats in a small voice.

Tequilla's eyes dart around the room.

"I d-don't kn-kn-know." He whispers.

They listen to the silence of the untouched room.

"Do... do you think they were an egg? Like us?" Poll asks. Tequilla traces the circles on his arms. "Who do you think they were? Do.. Do you think that I knew them?"

Tequilla shakes his head and steels his expression, taking on the big brother role. He squeezes Poll's hand and watches as they wipe away their tears.

"L-let's Investigate. Let's fin-d out whoo it is."

Poll sniffles and nods, refusing to let go of it's brother's hand.

They search every inch of the house, through every door. Just above the child's bedroom is a rope bridge leading to a small cliff, atop which a gazebo with a pink bed sat.

Moving back into the main living room, they spot a side door just across from the stairway. On one side is a door to the outside, and on the other is a locked door, through which they can see a purple bed.

Following the door outside, they follow a path to a small lagoon, with little bits of light trailing down into its depths.

They look at every sign they can find, but not a single name is said on them. Only the words "Mom" or "Dad".

They work their way back up to the swimming pool and walk around the deck. Hidden behind the wall an overgrown garden sits with a green nest nestled in the dirt.

Poll and Tequilla sigh, having completely run out of ideas.

"Maybe they really did jus' move away.. But why are the signs still here? Wouldn' they 've taken those?" Poll tugs at their ears.

"Wait." They say, pointing to a suspicious spot. "Look there!"

"'s another path!" Poll hops over the short wall and begins running down the worn path. "Maybe there's somethin' there that can tell us who lived here!" They dissappear behind the stone, leaving Tequilla behind to chase after them.

He fights through the brambles, barely enough to break through his tough scales, and follows the very worn path, until he reaches Poll.

It's covering it's mouth with it's hand, ears pinned back and wings trembling. Tequilla almost asks whats wrong before he follows their gaze towards...

"Tequilla?" Poll asks, in a very small voice. "Do you... do you know what this is?"

His heart pounds in his chest. This can't be right.

Before him is a memorial for a lost egg.

An egg with his name.

"R.I.P. Tequilla Ibuprofen"

[roci-wolf]

[22:29]

lee know x f.reader

word count: 1,2k

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: slightly suggestive jokes, mentions of food, "witch" used as an endearment. please do tell if i missed anything!

a/n: had this in my drafts for a while now and i decided to finally finish it so i hope the ending doesn't sound a little too rushed. anywayz, tooth rooting fluff bcs i need it.

It had been a very exhausting day. Actually, exhausting was not enough to encapsulate the plethora of emotions boiling inside you or the way your body was feeling — your arms were aching so hard you almost dropped your bag on the way home more than three times, your legs were trembling like jelly and your eyelids were so heavy they were threatening to close against your will. But you had to at least get home first and collapsing in the middle of the street as cars were passing by wasn't on your to do list that day.

But there was something you haven't done yet. One last bullet point that desperately needed to get checked. You wouldn't relax unless you were completing that last task. That's why you were now almost running towards your apartment, high heels echoing in the silent and chilly night. The light in front of the apartment building was slightly flickering again, the buzz of the lightbulb giving its last breath filling your ears as you were fishing for your keys in your purse. You cursed under your breath — where were those damn keys?!

Everything seemed to be running in slow motion. The only thing engulfing your head was the image of the last task of the day needing to be tackled. Your blood was pumping furiously in your veins as if you had been fighting with a lion and a bunch of pirates before arriving home. A tiny moth flew in front of you, entering the building through an open window, as if it was mocking you for being a human who needed a keypad in order to enter their own home. You huffed and puffed, getting more and more agitated.

Finally, you found the keys hidden right at the bottom of your purse. It was as if the whole world wanted to piss you off by keeping you away from your task.

You couldn't even remember how you got in the elevator and then unlocked the apartment door. Everything happened so fast.

A smell of freshly heated food with a tint of male cologne filled your nostrils. Soft music notes carassed your cheeks, dim warm light kissed your eyelids and the fluffy carpet hugged your toes, inviting you in. You smiled to yourself like an idiot, taking a deep breath.

Your heart was on the brink of exploding. But not yet, you wouldn't allow it.

You dropped your purse on the ground, threw your jacket in the hanger carelessly and started running. Nothing could have made you run like that in that moment apart from what was waiting for you on the couch of your living room in a dark blue hoodie and sweatpants with a cat in his lap.

"'Night, Y/n, how was toda- OOF"

Dori was smart enough to predict the disaster that was to follow and quickly left her spot from Minho's lap when you decided to throw your body like a sack of potatoes towards him. You landed with half of your body on the expandable couch and with the other half on your boyfriend. Your hands crawled on his chest and reached his cheeks. He stared at you, blinking like a confused cat with puckered lips because you were gently pushing on his cheeks.

"I'm guessing you'le bely tiled?" he tried to speak with lips like a fish's and you giggled, tucking your nose in his chest and releasing his face.

"That hurt, honey", he whined as you scooted closer to him, wrapping your leg around his figure. Your skirt slightly rose up your leg, so he covered your lower half with the blanket that had been previously warmed up by him. You hummed as the crazy demons that were trampling in your mind burned in the cozy feeling and slowly perished.

"I could die happy now" you mumbled with your face hidden in his hoodie.

"Go ahead", Minho said, surrounding your shoulders with his arm. "Send me a letter from hell".

You gently punched his stomach with your fist.

"How rude! How could you know I'd end up in hell and not in heaven?!"

"With your demon-like behaviour and bewitching being? Darling, you're a walking sin."

You raised your head to glance at his face, chills traveling across your body like a gang of dancing mariachi.

"Wow", you said. "You got me there, Mr Darcy."

The corner of his lips lifted in a smug smirk upon perceiving your reaction.

"What, has my compliment vanished all your braveness? You were so determined to fight me a second ago."

"You're talking as if you didn't just admit I have bewitched you", you scoffed, placing your head on his shoulder so you could look at the side of his face better.

"Well, you do it everyday. I'm not ashamed of speaking about it. How could I not?"

Oh, he did not.

You felt his hand sneak up around you, his fingers traveling across your spine. You rolled around above him before his hand could find your bottom.

"Auch! Witch, what have I done to you?!"

"Keep those grabby hands to yourself, mister", you pushed his chest with your index finger. "Or I'll have to cast a spell and transform those fingers of yours in spaghetti."

"Babe, I don't think that you'd like that", he raised his eyebrow, looking you dead in the eyes. You couldn't believe he was so blunt that night.

"Are you trying to imply something?"

"I don't know, am I?"

Your faces were inches apart, your lips almost touching his.

"Hm. Maybe that tongue needs to disappear as well."

"Oh, honey, you make bad decisions upon bad decisions. You know, it's your loss, not mine. "

"Are you so sure about that?"

His long eyelashes were tickling your face.

"I know you, baby. You wouldn't resist two days."

"Oho, cocky, are we?"

"Hm, just like you like it, my witch."

You didn't push his hands away this time. He grabbed your waist with his hands and gently pushed your body up so that your lips could finally touch. You were fully draped over him now, with your hands on his chest. His fingers tangled in your hair, softly massaging the scalp, making you hum into the kiss. You felt him smile as his other hand placed itself on your back, pushing you closer. You pulled away from his face and let him intertwine his legs with yours as your bodies mingled together, almost becoming one.

You would have fallen asleep there if only your annoying stomach didn't start making weird sounds. Minho giggled, cooing at you.

"Aw, is honey hungry? Why didn't you say so from the beginning?"

You mumbled, feeling your face heat up.

He turned his head with his ear towards your mouth, mockingly.

"What? I didn't heaaar youuu", he trailed off, amusement clear in his voice.

"I said", you spoke up, "I wanted to cuddle first!"

You smirked seeing his face contort because you spoke too loudly in his ear. He frowned, blinking repeatedly and slowly.

"Well, your belly doesn't want cuddles."

"Then my belly is a loser."

"Hey", he retorted, patting your lower back. "Your belly is cute. Don't insult it."

"But it's standing in the way."

He laughed, a series of giggles ending in an "ah", almost like a sigh, while he was carefully prying away from you. You pouted, but he quickly pecked you on the lips before disappearing in the kitchen.

"I know something both you and your stomach would love", his voice floated to your ears. "Pancakes and cuddles?"

You smiled, hugging the blanket and your knees closer to your chest, hiding your nose in it, inhaling Minho's familiar scent.

My final task is about to be completed.

[blankknsfww]

"diamonds & rubies"

sugar daddy!ghost x sugar baby!fem reader (pink is you!!) cw: angry sex, unprotected sex, creampie, little to no aftercare, low doggy word count: 579 shoo minors (18+)

you could hear his heavy duty boots from a mile away, and they were just getting louder, and louder as he made his way to your room. this was planned, of course, he never showed up uninvited.. even when he was invited he rarely came to see you. "knock knock." he mumbles as he pokes his head into your room, majority of his face covered by his black balaclava. he never did show you his face fully, even during your most intimate moments. "come in.." you respond, your voice becoming soft, as it normally did when you were around him. when he walks in you point to his boots which causes him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. "your shoes." "oh" he takes off his boots and sets them on the shoe rack next to your bedroom door, his black boots contrasting all of your pretty pink heels and white converses (most of which he bought for you). "it's been a while.." "we need to talk." you cut in, fumbling with your freshly painted nails (which, of course, he also paid for) and hoping this conversation would go well. "about?" "my allowance." he raises an eyebrow, your words seeming to have upset him. "your allowance?" "mhm.." "go ahead." he doesn't seem too amused with your choice of conversation topic, but he's always been a very good listener, and trusts that you won't waste his time. "when i went in to get a mani pedi yesterday, i only had enough for the mani, and i really wanted my finger nails to match my toe nails for my trip to-" "that's the reason?" he cuts in, scoffing at your "problem". you pout slightly, looking up at him through your long lashes. "si, it's important.." you all but whine, causing him to give you small tounge clicks. "sounds like someones getting a little ungrateful, huh pup?" he leans forward, getting in your face which causes your shoulders to shrink in intimidation. "i'll worry about you allowance, got that?" "now be the good slut i know you can be and lie on your stomach." ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"god.. uh!" you moan out as he pounds into you from behind, his hands roaming and gripping at your skin. he laughs at your position. "dumb fucking girl. looking for money and all you found was my cock, hm?" "so-o much better th-than money.. nnghh~" you mumble, using up the last of your energy. he taps your hip, wanting you to lift your ass a little higher. once you manage to shakily hike your lower half up for him, his cock brushes against your cervix, which causes you to let out a loud, high pitched moan. "oh there it is baby, there it fucking i-is.." his grip on your hips tighten, as his thrust get rougher and less rythmic. "gotta fill you. fill you till you forget a-about your allowance... better yet, till you forget your fucking na-ame." he growls, his hips stilling as he lets out a loud groan and pumps his cum into you. you grind back on his dick, till you finally reach your peak with a loud whine. your upper half slouches down onto the bed tiredly, while your lower portion twitches in a euphoric kind of pleasure. he gently pulls out of your aching core and plugs you up with his fingers. "c-can't let you spill any of my p-precious seed, can we pup?" he lets out a low chuckle. "not a s-single drop."

[electronicartisanfury]

Trendiest High Heels Shoes Women Pumps 10cm Tacones Pointed Toes Stilett...

[nightfallgame]

(NSFW) SHORT - Shigure Kurogami (01)

Originally Written: 07-26-20

Prompt: Could you write something for the reader fucking fem shigure with a vibrator while sucking on her clit and making her cum like crazy? I am filth

You said you'd need to tie her down. 

Shinobu had hesitated at that... just a little bit. You promised to make her come so many times she'd cry. Which, yeah, that's something straight out of the kind of erotic stories that she'd never, never let anyone know she reads. 

So now, Shinobu is tied up, legs in M-pose and wrists bound behind her back. Everything between her legs is exposed. She can feel herself clenching already, which makes the fact that you're sitting in front of her and seeing everything even more embarrassing. Shinobu wants to hide her face, but her hands are tied. She wants to complain about humiliating this is, but her mouth is so dry that words won't come out. 

"Ready, baby girl?" you ask her. There's a toy in your hands that has to be six inches long... and thick. Shinobu feels herself swallow. 

"J-Just hurry up and do it..." she grumbles. 

With a smirk that makes her insides feel funny, you slather the toy with lube. Just staring at it is making Shinobu clench around nothing even more. She's always had a high sex-drive, yeah, but getting off on her own and this are very, very different. 

The blunt head of the toy presses up against her hole and starts to slide inside. You're watching, eyes fixed right on the place where her body opens up to take it. 

Shinobu makes a quiet, whining sound. This is way too embarrassing. 

The toy slides all the way in to the base with very little resistance. Shinobu doesn't know if that means she's turned on or just kind of slutty. The stretch of the thick, bumpy thing rubbing at her insides makes Shinobu's legs twitch. They can't close no matter how hard she tries. You can see her cunt squeezing down around a toy that you forced inside. 

"Is th-that all?" she complains. "I thought you were gonna, um, m-make me come until I cried? Th-This feels good, yeah, but it's not that good..." She doesn't know why she's taunting you. Maybe whining is just second nature at this point. 

"Okay. If you want me to hurry up..."

You lean down and lick a hot, wet line right around where the toy is spearing her open. Shinobu lets out a little squeak at the feel of your tongue. Feeling you lap at where her wet, sloppy hole is already stretched around something thick and long... it makes her want to cover her face and hide. 

Your tongue moves up, up, pressing down on her clit. 

The heat and pressure there make Shinobu whine, curling her toes and trying to kick her heels. Fuck, she didn't think that she was quite this turned on already. Just that little touch has her mouth watering. 

With two fingers, you pull the hood of her clit up, exposing the little bud. Shinobu knows from a few embarrassing adventures with a hand-mirror that that place gets red when she's aroused. You have to be seeing it flushing and swelling up for you— even this soon. You lick at her clit over and over, tracing the nub with broad strokes that leave her legs trying to squeeze shut if only for a way to ground herself. 

At the same time, you slowly pull the dildo out— the bumps and ridges dragging against Shinobu's insides in a way that makes her breath catch. Thrusting it in and out at a slow, torturous pace, you force her to open up around its girth over and over again. 

"O-Oh fuck—" Shinobu moans. She can't hold her voice back. As embarrassing as it is, there's nothing for her to bite down on and no way to cover her mouth. 

She's close. It's barely been a couple of minutes and she's close. 

You give her clit a light suck, and Shinobu's head drops down. Her whole body strains against the bindings, trying to curl in. Her cunt squeezes and squeezes around the thing that you're still pumping in and out of her at a speed that makes her have to bite her lip. 

"That's one," you say, your voice a spine-tingling rumble against her sensitive skin. 

One. You said 'one'. 

Come until she cries. 

Shinobu barely has a moment to brace herself. The next thing she knows, you're flicking a little switch on the base of the toy— and it starts to vibrate. 

"Ah— A-Ahn—!" 

The sharp, pitiful moans that come out of her make Shinobu want to curl up and die. Her toes curl even harder. Her nails dig into her palms where they're tied behind her back. She's suddenly understanding why you said you'd need to have her tied. 

Just when her breathing starts to get unsteady, you lick her clit again. Pulling the hood and skin around it fully out of the way, exposing the swollen little bud, you swipe your tongue in one slow stroke over the place that's suddenly way, way too sensitive. A sharp whine catches in Shinobu's chest and comes out in a sound closer to a keening wheeze. 

Too much. 

"H-Hey—! Ah, th-tha—, that's t-too much!" she chokes out, squirming helplessly against the bondage in a desperate attempt to wiggle away. 

"Too bad," you snicker, then lick her again. 

Between the relentless buzzing and thrusting of the vibrator and your hot mouth against the place that's so sensitive it hurts, Shinobu comes again in no time. This time, she shrieks. This time, she twists helplessly as she tries to escape the feeling of your tongue licking at raw, overstimulated nerves. 

You don't budge. In fact, before she's even started to come down, you fit your mouth right over her tender, oversensitive clit and suck. 

Shinobu howls, kicking her heels. You keep sucking and sucking, licking wetly at her clit, and dragging your tongue over it in a quick path that sends fire through her nerves. If Shinobu could move, she'd have kicked you away and curled up into a tight little ball where you could quit fucking torturing her. The vibrator is still buzzing away, still dragging in and out and in and out in a rhythm than never ends. 

Her eyes cross. She squirms in place, drool running down her chin. This is too much. She's shrieking from overstimulation at this point— and you still won't stop. 

Shinobu's third orgasm hits. She wails like a bitch in heat, held in place by your mouth against her cunt and the toy spearing her open. She's sensitive, too sensitive. Your toungue is too hot, too rough, too much against her hypersensitive nerves. 

And then, something breaks. 

"F-Fuck me—!" she shrieks, so loudly that she knows she's going to be humiliated by the memory as soon as she's back in her right mind. "C-Come on—! AH! Mo-More, more, m-make me cry— l-like you said you wo— Ah! Would—!" Shinobu's so far gone that the stupid, slutty words pouring out of her mouth don't even make her cringe. She's howling, grinding her hips up against your mouth even as they try to stutter away. She's sobbing. 

You fuck the toy in and out of her cunt fast enough that the wet, sloppy sounds of lube and her on juices are clearly audible. Your teeth scrape ever-so-slightly against her clit, and Shinobu can't take any more. 

She comes for a fourth time with a scream. Hot tears spill over, pouring down her cheeks as she shrieks and pleads for more. 

Her cunt clenches around the vibrator like it wants to hold it inside and keep it there. Her clit feels so swollen and tender that every little brush of your tongue makes her howl. Having you suck on it is enough to have her eyes rolling. 

You were damn right about bringing her to tears. 

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Spring Wardrobe Essentials

Staple Tees & Tanks:

**Purchase in Modal, Pima cotton, linen, silk, or Tencel fabric**

Fitted scoop neck tank

Fitted high-neck tank top

Structured, relaxed fit crewneck tee

Fitted scoop neck/crewneck tee

Halterneck tee/mockneck tee

Contour tank/tee bodysuits

Blouses/Shirting:

Linen button-down (can be long/short-sleeve or a tank variety)

Silk button-down (can be a long/short-sleeve or a tank variety)

Relaxed fit silky tank

Relaxed fit silky cami top

Sweetheart neck tube top

Any other desired silk shell top/t-shirts/camis (for layering)

Sculpt knit top(s)

Self-tie wrap blouse

Halter-style silk blouse

Bottoms:

Black straight-leg jeans

Black bootcut/flared jeans

Black straight/bootcut trousers

Wide-leg trousers (I love a solid black, black pinstripe, and black with lace-up detail selection)

Split hem trousers

Black linen trousers

Stretch jersey pants (straight-leg, bootcut, and/or flared)

Black satin midi skirt

Leather skirt (mini or midi)

Tailored shorts (Tencel ones are great for various climates/weather that drastically in temperature/humidity throughout the day)

Leather shorts

Tailored black linen shorts

Dresses/Jumpsuits:

Slip dress (midi-length for every day; mini for hotter days/nights out)

Linen button-down dress (for work/modest dressing)

Linen tank dress (for layering/hotter days)

Little black dress (shift dress/A-line cuts are great)

Minimal black jumpsuit ("LBJ")

Black linen or silk jumpsuit

Blazer dress/jumpsuit

Long-sleeve playsuit/romper

Tuxedo jumpsuit/playsuit

Jackets/Outerwear:

Well-tailored black blazer

Well-tailored black vest

Leather moto jacket

Black trench coat

Tailored longline sleeveless blazer/vest

Neutral-toned racer jacket

Structured utility jacket

Satin coat/trench/blazer (great over transitional nighttime looks)

Footwear:

Black loafers

Square-toe/pointed-toe flats

Slingback/mary-jane flats/casual kitten heels

Short black lace-up boots

Sleek low to mid-calf black square/pointed-toe boot

Western-inspired boot

Minimalist white sneakers

Black pointed-toe pumps

Sleek mules/cut-out flats

Slingblack pointed-toe wedges

Rain boots

Accessories:

White/black ankle & crew socks

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Chunky/small chain necklaces & bracelets

Simple pendant necklace(s)

Pearl necklace

Simple diamond studs

Crystal drop earrings

Minimalist bangles

Stackable rings

A sleek, minimalist black tote (can fit a laptop for work/travel)

Black shoulder bag

Small black bag (top handle, crossbody, etc.)

Statement bag/evening bag

Silk/decorative scarf

Sleek neutral sunglasses that suit your face shape

Lingerie/Loungewear:

Seamless bra/underwear

Lace bra/underwear

Matching pullover cotton sweatshirt/sweatpants

Tencel, Modal, or cotton top/lounge pants set

Luxurious pajama set (Long sleeve/pants + short-sleeve/tank + shorts, depending on the climate – silk, Tencel, cashmere, etc.)

A to-die-for piece of lingerie like a lace slip/silk teddy

Silk or cozy robe

Open-back slippers