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#it's midnight when i post this damn
lastchancestardomm · 1 year
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ayo why most of these games getting tossed aside?
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b4kuch1n · 4 months
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frog documentation. frogcumentation
I think I mentioned a while back I'd post nibling frog momence after the gift's done given. which happened on the 2nd this month I just forgot lmao. anyways we can do it now. I used the boigameista pattern scaled up to four pieces of A4 print paper and decided to double deck it to a two layer thing, not unlike a pillow, for ease of washin. because it was gonna be gifted to a one year old child
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took a long time and made a number of mistakes bc hand sewing makes me worse as a person but this guy was done in time for the birthday occasion and that's what matters. chose non-fuzzy fabrics for it because we live in a dense city in the tropics and from personal experience if I hug something made of fur I would explode. the original plan included felt patterns on its back for bonus textures for baby but that wouldn't stretch well along with the rest of the thing so had to hold that back. eventually we got this
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zipper across its ass, the coat type of zipper bc I miscalculated when ordering. but it did have a shape and that's all that matters to me. will be a fun game for the baby to grow up and be severely misinformed about what a frog looks like
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happy extremely late birthday to this thing also
#bakuspecial#uhhhh. whats my craft tag. I forgor. update this later#frog plush babeyyyy#I want this thing to last until the heat death of the universe so I felled all the seams down. dont recommend doing this by hand#Im so stubborn lmao I refuse to get a serger I will simply get better at hand sewing instead. damn its taking kinda long#there used to be a Lot more frogs around hanoi. but the lack of clean water ponds and lakes have driven down the population#I live like right at the edge of the city rn tho (will no longer be the case in five years) so there are still a lot of aminals#house robins. skinks. fireflies (!!!!). praying mantises. tree frogs#they love to hang out at the fountain inside the complex right across the street. had to pick em up to return to the fountain#from the hot brick tiled ground a few times#theyre so small. theyre so small....#I miss house geckos they dont show up a lot in our apartment. I wish they would they would love the cockroaches around here#and of course. bc the kind of rice we eat is more short-grained and thus usually not all the way dried like the longer-grained type we have#so many rice weevils. do u know those little fucks do not drown for a Long time#do u know they lay eggs inside the rice grains and that's how u find out ur rice about to become the weevil beverly hill#by washing the rice and seeing hollowed out grains float up. I have become an expert at this.#but I get to see skinks in random bushes so who am I to be pissed about that. skinks rule#this has been baku talks about animals for a mile of tags. thank u for listening#well. its evening and the family wants to go out so that's what we're doin. hope u have a good time too wherever u are#see u this midnight when I reblog every new posts I've made in the last week or so lmao
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tilions · 6 months
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Fun fact: An Old English word for spider was gangwīfre and not saying that Jirt probably took a look at that word and went: "Ah yes Ungoliant" and proceeded to make his spiders into giant girlbosses but he certainly did
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trans-xianxian · 1 month
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we were in that theater. for over 13 hours. but god was it fucking worth it
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good-beanswrites · 11 months
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Chapter 4 is out! Fuuta has his T2 mental breakdown! ✨
This one took a lot of reworking and revisiting the voice dramas to try and write an argument/breakdown that still felt in character for both of them -- I'm really satisfied with the final product :))
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yume-fanfare · 4 months
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posting hnw-related things to twitter feels so weird its like Do They Know im not just doing redraws ? im actually crazy insane about this i got credentials and everything im overqualified for redraws
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anne-lida · 1 year
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Rebirth
(written by me 6 years ago, posted as it is)
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My life has ended.
How could this damned little shrapnel destroyed me?
Even before my hand reached it, the pain shot my right eye again. Each pulse felt like my eye was about to explode. Yet it was still there. My right eye was still in the socket. The shrapnel didn’t took my eye, yet it took my sight.
This damned little shrapnel kept taunting me.
The cold night air caressed my right eyelid and I quickly pulled my hair to hide it. Oh, Lord, I felt like a coward now.
I took a very deep breath, puffed my chest and filled it with as many braveness as I could take.
This is just a scar. It’s not different compared to what I’d got before. I survived more fatal injuries. I’m stronger than those arrogant soldiers.
But photographer’s life is in their eyes.
I wanted to squinted my eyes in cringe at that thought. But the pain from the shrapnel kept my eyes open on the truth, brought me back to the moment when my passion died in front of my eyes.
God, I wished I could laugh on that one.
And who the hell put my camera on my left side?
In great annoyance, I turn my back against it. I pressed the bundled blanket to my chest, pressing back the frustration.
My right eye’s throbbing again.
I only could gritted my teeth and still failed at easing the pain. How could this damned little shrapnel make me hate the thing I loved the most?
I still loved it.
I was tempted to grab my camera, to hold it like what friends supposed to. But my camera used to be friend with my right eye. They’ve been through a lot of moments and dangers together.
Could my left one replace it?
No.
I sighed. I stared at the pale white ceiling and blinked both of my eyes. The right one still hurt, and the left one somehow felt it too and hardly blinked.
So my life really ended now. My job was done, like he said. My passion died prematurely.
The melancholic thought pulled my attention to my camera, my old companion. Broken in the ‘eye’, just like me. And Papa said he bought it right after I was born, to immortalize the day I was in this world. We lived together and we died together. How poetic is that?
How tragic is that?
I took the camera and I had just noticed how much damage it took from the explosion. No wonder some parts of it managed to get in my face. I looked the back of it and sighed in relief. At least the film was still protected.
The last film.
My hands suddenly felt limbless. The camera dropped on my stomach and the broken glass shook with audible sound inside the case. But my fingers tried desperately to reach the camera—the film—and protect it. And I agreed.
It was mine. The last one is mine.
The traumatic hate tried to push back the intention, kept reminding me how the explosion nearly killed me, repeating the doctor’s sentences of how my shrapnel couldn’t be taken off, repeating everyone’s words of how my job ended, of how my passion died.
I couldn’t deny it. But it wouldn’t push me away from trying to respect the days of my dedication in war photography, from respecting the death of my love.
The wounds all over my body were already healed. It wasn’t hard to get up from bed and walked to my darkroom. But when the dim red lights were turned on, the damned little shrapnel was killing me again.
The opening of the film case was flooding me with painful moment. But afterwards, everything was as smooth as it supposed to be. My hand movement had been trained for years to produce dozens of photo in a day. This time, a particular part of the film halted my usual reflex.
I usually moved swiftly in this part and started to enjoying the making of the image—soaking the print in silver nitrate and whatnot—because there was no use in figuring out the result that soon. But now I was intrigued by this enlarged shape on the paper. The unclear blooms in black.
It was from the last part of the film.
It felt like the first time I really wanted to figure out the picture in this “too early” step. My mind was excited to decipher it, yet it only get a shape of usual fog of explosions until it gave up—my left eye gave up—and I continued the process.
After washing all of the photos, I hanged them on the rope. My heart—my feeling—was tired but satisfied. I sat on the nearest stool and slowly closed my eyes. The dry skin around my eyes felt so refreshed. Small proud slowly rose in my chest.
When the photos were dry, I gathered them in order and tried to not look at them, hoped that the last is the best. Then I settled myself on the couch and looked at the result one by one.
Most of it are usual pictures of the casualties, the corpses and property damages, or the “behind-the-scene” part of the soldiers that I took at the camp. Even though I was pretty selective at which one that should be sent and not, I adored each one of them. No matter how dull it is when people see it, it was you who knew the entire story—the entire adventure—of its taking.
But these photos had different future, for my job has ended. None of them would be sent to anyone, for these were my last memorabilia.
Each picture that I flipped, my heart thumped and followed by eerie smile, mild disappointment, or utter loss. Until I reached the last photo, I froze.
I hardly remembered who was in this last picture—and probably I couldn’t find out—but the moment and the story behind it will be immortal in mind.
The explosion that blinded my right eye, blown this soldier and I captured it right when it exploded.
It was in black-and-white, but the composition of splashing blood and flesh and clouds of dirt is overwhelming. The movement of the soldier was so dynamic and so precise, just before the light was gone from his eyes.
The very last moment of a life.
It was so pure compared to other pictures. No forced smile or pose. The captured moment was so rare and magnificent. It happened so quick that even I didn’t know it at that time, and yet I captured it, immortalize it in silver nitrate.
I walked back to my room with proud and content smile to my camera. That thing was magical. No wonder Papa adored it until the end of his time. And now, in the end of its time, its magic inspired me to not end my time yet. The photo cured my wounds, gave me vision. I could felt my passion rebirth in new purpose.
It is time to show it to the world.
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bbyjackie · 10 months
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𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡
one piece social media + dating feat: zoro
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♡ liked by FRAAANKY, nicorobin and 2.2k others
_ynln: moments before disaster
tagged: theroronoa.zoro
blackleg.sanji: PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE. ILL TREAT YOU BETTER THAN HE COULD EVER YN PLEASE. 🙏🙏😫😫
↳ lovenami: stop praying on their downfall
↳ sogekingg.usopp: ONG, yn is the only one who can keep zoro from getting lost. im not risking their breakup ☝️☝️
↳ theroronoa.zoro: @blackleg.sanji stay mad that u got no bitches
theroronoa.zoro: its not my fault you fell
↳ _ynln: bitch ive seen u deadlift a building 😐
↳ theroronoa.zoro: it is what it is 🥱
blackleg.sanji: scribble out his face my queen, he's ruining your beauty 😙😙
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♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, ilovecottoncandychopper and 3.4k others
_ynln: my boyfriend is the hottest
tagged: theroronoa.zoro
theroronoa.zoro: fan behaviour 🥱
↳ _ynln: nvm my bf sucks
sogekingg.usopp: DAMN BRO EVEN GOT ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY 🥵🥵
↳ FRAAANKY: VALIDDD HES BUILT 🫡
↳ _ynln: agreed 🫣🫣
↳ sogekingg.usopp: keeping the rest of us humble
↳ theroronoa.zoro: i hate you guys
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♡ liked by ace, p1rateking_luffy and 1.9k others
_ynln: pizza bites are the loml 💞
tagged: p1rateking_luffy, blackleg.sanji
theroronoa.zoro: wtf when did this happen
↳ _ynln: when u locked me out so u could sleep
↳ theroronoa.zoro: you could've woken me up and we could've made pizza instead of u and that stupid cook
↳ _ynln: last time i woke u up, u almost three sword styled me 😭😭
↳ p1rateking_luffy: I was there too!! Thanks the invite yn 😁😁
↳ theroronoa.zoro: wait luffy was there too? was everyone but me hanging out with MY girlfriend?
↳ FRAAANKY: OMG ARE U GUYS ARGUING RN
↳ ilovecottoncandychopper: guyss please don't fight :((
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: fight
blackleg.sanji: WAKE ME UP ANYTIME TO MAKE MIDNIGHT SNACKS MY GODDESS YN 🧎🏼‍♂️🧎🏼‍♂️
↳ theroronoa.zoro: just so yk i reported this comment for harassment
theroronoa.zoro: how am i not the love of your life 🤨
↳ _ynln: tough, maybe cause u dont post me
↳ FRAAANKY: post her @theroronoazoro
↳ p1rateking_luffy: Post her @theroronoazoro
↳ sogekingg.usopp: post her @theroronoazoro
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♡ liked by jinbe, _ynln and 4.5k others
theroronoa.zoro: my gf is the prettiest person in the world i love her. this is a yn dedication post.
slide 1: my gf waking me up after she found me on the streets.❤️‍🔥
slide 2: there's two cute things in this photo. my gf is cuter. ❤️‍🔥
slide 3: teaching my gf how to down booze. she's perfect. ❤️‍🔥
slide 4: my gf having fun at the gym waiting for me to finish my workout. ❤️‍🔥
tagged: _ynln
_ynln: zoro omg i love u sm 🥹💕💕
↳ theroronoa.zoro: ❤️
nicorobin: this is cute
blackleg.sanji: CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP
ilovecottoncandychopper: i love u two together 🙂
↳ _ynln: AWW CHOPPER <33
jinbe: i support this message
lovenami: first post in 8 months and it's his gf, who wants to jump onto the train tracks w me
p1rateking_luffy: yn's feet
↳ lovenami: do u think we can sell photos of them?
↳ _ynln: guys what the actual fuck
_ynln 17m
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[_ynln] theroronoa.zoro replied to your story: love you
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novelbear · 11 months
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midnight rambling - some late night dialogue for your otp 
prompt list by @novelbear (had to take a mini mental health break haha, posts should be coming back soon <3)
“you’ve been tossing and turning for the last forty minutes. what’s up?”
 “what do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” 
 “are you asleep?” “...no.” 
 “do you think we’d still be a couple in an alternate universe?” “go to bed.” “what if we already got married and have five kids.” “go to bed.” 
 “i can’t sleep...” “me either.” 
 “it’s five a.m.” “we talked all night?” 
 “i’m still worried about tomorrow...” “do you want to talk and try to get your mind off of it?”
 “fine, i get your cereal-soup argument, but there’s nothing you can say to convince me that a hot dog is a damn sandwich.” 
 “you know when i was little, i always thought my toys would come alive when i’m not around like they would in Toy Story. i still think they do.” 
 “babe, i love you, but we both need to get up early.”
 “freeze. i know you’re not wearing socks and trying to go to sleep right now.” 
 “i’m cold, can we cuddle?” 
 “what if aliens think we’re the aliens.” “the hell are you talking about-” 
 “sitting here with you like this is nice...” 
 “i’m wondering why i’m freezing and i see you’ve stolen the entire blanket.”
 “do you want to know what [name] told me today?” 
 “so then- oh. you’re asleep.”  
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spliffymae · 4 months
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forgotten connie drabble (18+ mdni)
★ *  °    🛰  °. 🌓 •  .°•   🚀
“SURPRISE!”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE!”
you moved to the side once you were inside, coming in behind the man of the hour himself. sasha had been running rampant to throw him an amazing surprise party. and you were in on it, tasked with bringing connie home from work and acting as if you know nothing about what the current day was.
which proved to be hard the second connie got into your car after putting his bag in the back seat. “ahh shit! they got mi cielita to take me out. where we going, mami?” connie was grinning ear to ear as he looked at you, dimples popping below red freckled cheeks.
he was so cute, and you were gonna hate to do this but, “what’re you on about, springer?” you scrunched your face up in confusion at him. you then quickly looked ahead to pull out the parking lot. if you looked at him for too long you were sure you’d crack.
connie rolled his eyes, not buying your ignorance. “oh stop that, y’know what i’m talking bout.” he said as he buckled himself in and then reclined the passenger seat.
with the strongest will you could muster, you kept up the confusion, looking back at him and with a quirked brow, “you got a game or sum?” you asked, knowing damn well he had nothing going on today. his birthday happened to land on the off day for ball practice AND track practice, not to mention he didn’t have class either.
now, when sasha told you to act like you forgot that his birthday was today, she failed to mention to you that it was something connie’s mother had done plenty of times in his life…not as a joke, though.
connie really cared about four women in his life: you, sasha, his little sister, and his mom. so you forgetting his day took a pin to his bubble and popped the fuck out of it. he didn’t dwell on the subject anymore, changing to now talk about your days. however, connie was feeling down on the inside. all his friends had wished him a happy birthday either via call, text, or social media post. have you not been on your phone today?
when you pulled up to his and sasha’s shared apartment, you flashed him a smile but it was not reciprocated. connie was staring ahead, zoned out in thought. so much so he doesn’t feel you turn the car off or hear you call his name.
“con” you pushed his shoulder slightly, getting him to snap out of his own head.
“hm?”
“we’re at your place. is it cool if i come up to use the bathroom?” you usually wouldn’t say anything and invite yourself into his apartment. days when you’d get him we’re days you set aside to hang with him. but today seems to be different. connie wondered if you had made plans that made you forget about his birthday.
“uh yeah, sure.” he said lowly. he reached back to grab his backpack and with that, got out the car. you could see the defeat in his walk towards the doors. he was mumbling to himself, more times trying to dissect what the hell was going on with you. because you wouldn’t just forget, right?
you got out the car and sped walk to catch up, sending sasha a quick text to let her know yall were back. you also cussed her for telling you to do this to connie, knowing how pouty he gets.
the walk to the elevator was quite, along with you two getting off at his floor and going to his apartment. however, before connie turned the key he put into the lock, he turned to you. his eyes were glossed over and cheeks dusted with a crimson red. he was chewing on his bottom lip, hazel eyes filled with worry. “did i do something, mami? you mad at me?”
and oh my god you wanted to break the act right there…but you were RIGHT THERE.
you blinked, “what do you mean, con? why would i be?” you wanted him to just open the door. once he opened the door you could drop the act, you could give him all the birthday love you were holding in since midnight.
connie let out a sigh and turned back around, giving up on the matter and turning the lock to go in. the day was no longer felt good. what good was a birthday if the one person he wanted to spend it with forgot about it?
when the door opened, connie walked inside and turned on the light and was immediately met with screams, cheers, and camera lights in his face.
which brings us here, to where he freezes and looks around at his friends from his basketball team, work, childhood, and sasha standing in the middle with a cake.
connie spent a good couple seconds taking everything in, he was slightly embarrassed to say once he believed you had forgotten he immediately forgot the day, choosing to just wallow in his room as he smoked a spliff.
you took a step forward, hands behind your back and coming up on his right. “happy birthday, connie.” you bumped him with your hip, once again snapping him out of his own head and bringing him back to the present.
the big, toothy smile he had in your car came back, now decorated with deep dimples and eyes watery with tears of appreciation.
just as he was about to say something to you, jean pulled him away, leaving you two with an unfinished conversation.
•  .°•
you were talking to sasha in the kitchen as connie was socializing with all his guests. he hadn’t had the chance to come back to you just yet, but you weren’t worried. you didn’t plan on going anywhere.
“i told you! he’s so brain dead when it comes to you that he’ll completely forget everything. did you see how lost he looked when he saw us?” sasha was so happy that her plan had turned out well. she knew her best friend well enough to know it wasn’t going to take a lot to get his mind off his literal day of birth. not when you were the one thing that stayed on his mind and could pull his attention from anything.
you playfully rolled your eyes, “i still hated seeing how sad he looked. why didn’t you tell me i was damn near triggering him?!” you were nursing your second cup of a mimosa, slightly tipsy.
sasha giggled. she, on the other hand, had been four shots in from when you guys came in. “i forgot. but it’s all good now. oop—here he comes.” before you knew it, sasha had stepped away and now connie was in your space.
his eyes were low and bloodshot, having just come back from a hotbox with his guys in the car. “mami, you really are sum special.” he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to be flush against him.
you smiled, “sasha made me, pa. you know i would never forget your day.” you traced his lips with your finger, your acrylic nail going along his prominent cupids bow. connie held your hand still and kissed your finger, then moved your hand so it was at the back of his head. it brought you closer into his space, his cologne taking over your senses. he loweeeed his head to touch yours, looking in your eyes.
“¿dónde está mi regalo, princesa? his hands trailed up from your waist to your back, to your elbow and then shoulder. he tucked one of your locs behind your ear, staring at you as if you held both the moon and the stars. “i been dying to unwrap it” his eyes were scanning all over your face, taunting you with his hidden meaning.
“quiero mi pastel, ma. soy hambriento.” he undid the button with ease, bringing you to gasp and instinctively grip the small curls on the back of his neck.
“later.” you said softly, giving him a sweet smile to match. but connie smirked with wickedness, red eyes gleaming of mischief. his hand trailed back down to the waistband of your baggy pants.
“c-con.” you could feel his long and slender fingers pad over your core. he pressed his index and his middle against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. “this party’s for you.” you bit your lip when you felt him move them in a circular motion, the wetness of your pussy dampening your panties.
“it’s my birthday, right? i can do whatever i want, right?” you were gonna answer, but then he pushed your panties to the side. he had rubbed your lips to collect your slick on his fingers, and slowly began to push them inside of you. your mouth opened, but no words came out.
“oh princesa, did you forget how to talk? just like how you forgot papi’s birthday?” he tsked, shaking his head, “made me so sad. y’know” the force of his thrusts picked up, knocking you back to grip the edge of the counter behind up. “a mean joke you guys pulled on me.”
“pa…i-i can’t be quiet” you panicked, looking at connie with worrisome eyes. he knew you were a screamer, fuck it was what he loved about you. pleasure would overwhelm you quick and all your composure would go flying out the window. you got animalistic when you’d approach your peak, and connie never missed the chance to see it. but today, you were doing your best to show restraint the clench of your jaw let him know you really wanted to get it out but were resisting.
connie took his other hand to rub a thumb on your clit, turning his ears off to anything that wasn’t your faulty breaths or straggled moans. “hm…guess i forgot.”
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
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poisoned mercury | camprock! au x luke castellan series
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when may castellan, the manager of the poisoned mercury, the hottest, new band on the scene, grows tired of the boys' antics, she sends them to camp half-blood to get their heads on straight.
luke castellan, heartthrob and lead singer, begins to see the punishment as a blessing in disguise when girls fawn over him at camp. that is until he met you, a fellow disappointment to her parent, who couldn't care less about him and his fame.
luke is anything but a quitter so he's determined to make you fall for him before he gets back on the road after summer. you're not having it.
or
an au loosely based on disney's camp rock where there are no gods and teenage dirtbag! luke castellan spends his summer falling in love with the girl who loves to argue with him. one-sided enemies to lovers.
meet the band! | silly posts about poisoned mercury au! | poisoned mercury playlists | find hcs and asks under 'poisoned mercury chats' on my page
i. lifestyles of the rich and famous (introduction)
ii. bad reputation
iii. everybody talks
iv. end up here
v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)
vi. check yes, juliet
vii. just friends
r u mine? (smut blurb, mdni!)
viii. pink skies
delicate (friend group shenanigans: the boys and clarisse find out about luke and five star!)
ix. now you got me
meddle about (smut blurb, mdni)
x. long way home
post chb
close as strangers
asks
jealous! luke
cleaning luke's wounds
luke gets in trouble for the scratches you left
midnight swim
poisoned mercury plays never have i ever at buzzfeed
may and five star
fans want five star, not luke!
more to come!
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pirateprincessblog · 19 days
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in vino veritas
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!hongjoong x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: dilf!hongjoong, bratty!reader, artist!hongjoong 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, oral (m receiving), toys, gagging, hint of ddlg
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: divorced parent child, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i always write the reader as inexperienced or innocent, this time i'm trying a different approach hehe hopefully it works!
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
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𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔,
𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔. 𝒏𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒅, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉. 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒓.
𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈.
it is a challenge to find an outfit appropriate for the evening. you do not wish to go, not since your mother has made it clear she is going only for mr kim. your father, as his best friend since childhood, would be there, and your mother couldn't pass the opportunity to continue her game of jealousy since their separation.
"bold of you to assume that mr kim will even lay his eyes on you." you comment, passing by her room and glancing at her outfit choice. a red dress shorter than her knees with a low neckline. a classic. funnily enough, she used the very same dress to separate your father's then girlfriend from him and took him for herself. she is your mother, but you don't close your eyes at her mistakes. "besides, you're not twenty anymore. that dress doesn't look flattering at all. it's not age appropriate."
"god, just like your father. insults, insults-"
"oh, so when i kiss your ass i am like you, but when i disagree with you, i am like my father? how lovely."
"go to your room and get dressed."
"why do i have to go? you're the one who's trying to get dicked down toni-"
"go to your room!"
defeated, you groan and slam your door shut, then throw yourself on the bed. even with your head buried under your pillows, you still hear her obnoxious voice.
"and don't talk back to me! you've become very rude, and i will not have you embarrass me in front of our friends there! especially not in front of hongjoong."
you don't remember mr kim. you only know that he had a wife, that she also cheated, much like your mother, and since then he only travels and creates art wherever he goes. ever since you got the invitation, you've been trying to find out how he looks now. but all he posts on his social media is the destinations he's visiting, food and sneak peeks of his art. not even a glimpse of him in any picture. come to think of it, your mother's standards are pretty high. your father had your school friends coming over to your house just for him, you can only imagine what mr kim looks like.
deciding on a simple short sweater dress and knee high boots, you put your coat on and head into the autumn evening. your mother trails behind, having difficulties with walking in such high heels. you don't wait, still angry about her plan involving your poor father and an innocent man.
it is only seven in the evening, and something tells you that you'll be here for a very long time. at least midnight. on the bright side, you'll finally see your father. and meet the mystery man behind all the artwork you've been admiring. he doesn't post much of it, but what you've seen, it's pretty damn amazing.
"dad!" you spot him as soon as you enter the crowded space, your father with his recognizable thomas shelby outfit and a glass of whiskey in his hand. you hug him, tight as always, and subconsciously smell him. tobacco, whiskey, and vanilla. home.
"hey, kid." he returns the hug, a little less tight than yours as to not hurt you. "oh you smell great! that the new perfume i got you?"
"oh, i absolutely love it. i bathe in it every day."
"i'm so glad you like it." he gently ruffles your hair, enough to show affection but to not mess it up completely. "now, where's ursula?"
"very mature, calling your ex wife a cartoon villain. what, i put on a few pounds, so what?"
"it's not about the pounds, and you know it."
you turn your head away from your mother, hiding the laugh that is threatening to escape. but she catches the way your father winks your way, and claps her hands, causing a few heads to turn.
"a father and daughter teaming up on her mother. lovely. if you love him more than me, why don't you go live with him?"
you finally look at her, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "you threatened to hurt yourself if you saw me exit the house with a suitcase. you guilt tripped me, called yourself an awful mother and whatnot. what are you on about?"
defeated, she tries to push the glass of whiskey out of your father's hand, and when failing to do so, she groans and stomps down the gallery hall. and yet she calls you two mature sarcastically.
"i truly hope she finds someone crazy enough to handle her, just so you can finally move out and have a life of your own. is she giving you a hard time?"
"i can handle her. usual guilt tripping and nagging, nothing new. how was your trip?"
your father happily tells you all about his recent trip to spain and france, which was mr kim hongjoong's gift to him for birthday. he went on and on about all the food he tried, all the buildings and art he saw, and how fun and informed about everything mr kim was.
"he knew so much that i was ashamed to be walking with him sometimes. i didn't know the difference between baroque and rococo. hell, i didn't know what rococo even was. i'm definitely taking you to see la sagrada familia on my next week off."
"sounds great, dad."
"listen, i'm gonna go find the restroom, too much whiskey," he whispers, "you feel free to walk around and watch. if you see something you like, i'll ask hongjoong for the price and i'll get it for you."
you look at him with a scoff, but when you see that he is dead serious, you raise your eyebrows. "what? you'd buy an art piece worth thousands of pounds?"
"family discount," he winks at you once again, then disappears into the crowd.
"a drink, madam?" someone says next to you.
your eyes land on the tray with glasses of red and sparkling wine, the person holding it dressed in a simple white dress shirt and black slacks, hair slicked back and white gloves on his hands.
"no thanks, i don't drink."
he nods understandingly, then continues his journey towards the arriving guests. you were never one to buy art. well, you weren't exactly one to be really into it. you see a picture, a sculpture or something similar, you think it's neat. do you go out of your way to find out the artist, or search for more? not quite. but walking down the waxed floor under the rich chandeliers and looking at the massive paintings, you might get into it. finally, something that is not minimalism or some picasso-wannabe shit. stunning golden frames, detailed paintings, and harmony of colours on canvas. all of it put together so perfectly, as if it was brought back from the times of renaissance and not painted in an atelier just outside of town earlier this year.
"drink?"
"i said no already, thanks." you reply, not bothering to look at the person.
"just a sip? to loosen up. you look rather stiff."
you turn your head towards the voice, confused as to why the waiter is persistent. but next to you stands a well dressed man, two glasses of red wine in his hands. he wears black slacks, a tight black turtleneck, and a long black coat. his eyes are pools of honey under the yellow chandeliers, and his hair shiny streaks of gold. he looks breath taking, and you almost thank your mother for dragging you here.
he holds the wine glass for you to take, and you do so. he raises his own towards you, then takes a sip of it, not once breaking eye contact with you. you bring yours to your lips, and the alcohol barely touches them before you move it away. you were never a fan of alcoholic drinks. they tasted awful, and brought out the worst in you. you don't want to embarrass your father tonight. or yourself in front of this gorgeous looking man.
"you've spent quite some time looking at this. admiring the work or surprised at the nudity?"
you scoff, looking at the painting again. gradually going down the hall, the art becomes less art and more erotica. how disappointing. "not admiring, that's for sure."
"oh? how so?" he asks, intrigued.
"well, for starters, very unrealistic. such big breasts and such a tiny waist? has that hongjoong ever seen a woman in his life?"
he laughs along with you, taking another sip of his wine. "i heard he paints with live models, so i'm guessing that this woman really exists somewhere."
"alright, i'll let you have that one. what about this? very inaccurate." you walk over to the next painting, pointing out all the things you were dissatisfied with.
"even an art critic isn't this harsh. it's just art, at the end of the day. an artist's way of escaping and creating his own world to get lost in. nothing wrong with that, right? writers and readers have books, gamers have games, chefs have cooking and baking, and artists have art."
"well, if the artist is an old pervert and all his inspiration comes from naked women, then sure. nothing wrong with that."
after a few moments of silence, you look over at him. he stares at the painting, puzzled. you clear your throat, sensing the awkward air enveloping you both. "i would love to continue this conversation, but if i stay i will only become meaner and accidentally insult you, and i certainly wouldn't want that. i'm passionate when it comes to me being right and proving others wrong."
you give him the glass of wine back with a sour grin, and he returns a scoff of disbelief. "charming."
"wasn't trying to be."
and with that, you leave him standing with two glasses of wine again, just like he approached you. you visit the restroom too, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. all the women are gorgeous tonight, wearing classy dresses and heels, and suddenly you feel underdressed.
"oh my god, your boots are so cool!" as if she heard your overthinking, the girl behind you exclaims. "where did you get them?"
"uh, i think it was a sale at zara. very uncomfortable though, i don't recommend." you reply with a laugh.
"that's okay, they look so pretty it's worth it. anyways, love your makeup." then, she exits the restroom.
you look at your boots, plain black with a chunky heel and over the knees. nothing special about them. still, you appreciate the compliment.
it doesn't take long for you to find your father again, this time in front of a sculpture of, again, a half naked woman. how odd.
"there you are! found anything?"
"no," you reply dryly, and refrain yourself from nasty comments because of his friends.
"well, that's a shame. hongjoong, this is my daughter i've been telling you about."
your heart drops when you hear his name, and then drops a little lower when your eyes lock with the familiar brown ones you just abandoned further down the hall.
"oh, i've had the pleasure," he responds, not looking surprised like you. "an informed young woman, for sure."
so much for embarrassing yourself. if he is offended, he doesn't show it. he only extends his hand as a formal greeting, and when you offer him yours to shake, he turns it over and kisses the top of it. you are baffled, unable to do or say anything. you look over at your father, who doesn't blink an eye to the unusual situation you've found yourself in. mr kim releases your hand, but not before holding eye contact with you just a few seconds longer.
"ah, right, hongjoong is a gentleman. also, if you didn't already notice, he loves women. not like that, of course. they're just-"
"they are my biggest muse. this world's biggest and prettiest treasure."
"charming," you repeat his word from earlier.
he smirks, teasingly. you want to slap the smirk off his face. he adjusts the sleeves of his turtleneck, rolling them up to his elbows and showing off his forearms. it is only then that you notice he isn't wearing the coat anymore, and you have the freedom of shamelessly staring at his body. his forearms are big, painted with bulging veins. the turtleneck hugs his waist and chest perfectly, to the point of slightly showing the outline of his abs. he isn't bulky, but built like a greek statue. he holds himself so elegantly, not bothered what anyone has to say about his work. it's a shame, because you still have a lot to say, regardless of how hot and bothered you are for him at the moment.
"ah, let me just clarify something. in case someone thinks that i'm just an old pervert..." he discreetly glances at you, making your jaw drop slightly, "...all these women have come to me and asked to be painted or sculpted. i have never once asked a woman to undress for me, nor did i sexualize her when she did so herself. i see art, not porn material."
your father seems offended that someone could have made such an assumption. little did he know that the culprit was the young woman right next to him, hiding behind his glass of wine.
"say, hongjoong, how does that work? do i have to send you an e-mail? or just show up at your door?"
if you thought that the situation couldn't get more awkward, your mother decided to prove you wrong.
"mom!" you scold, pink spreading on your cheeks as you look at the people surrounding you.
"what? why wouldn't i want to be painted by such a handsome-"
"unfortunately, at the moment i do not take any commissions. the gallery is my priority."
and just like that, mr kim shuts her down. he spares her no glance, in respect towards your father, or simply because he is disgusted by such an idea and behaviour. he is not stupid, that you notice. he seems to know the difference when someone genuinely wants to be painted, and when someone tries to take advantage of the situation and expects something from him.
as the night goes, you notice that kim hongjoong isn't old like you called him. he is your father's age, sure, but he aged like fine wine. it takes a lot of staring and concentration to notice a few gray strands of hair cleverly hidden among the golden brown ones. you notice that he doesn't talk much. he lets the people around him talk, and only engages when they have a question about a work of his.
you also notice his hands. his fingers, specifically. you can't help but imagine his fingers dipped in clay, shaping it the way his mind intended, his focused gaze and messy hair. you wish to see him at work, at least once in your life. just to satisfy your imagination. because to make a move with a man of that age is just absurd, and disrespectful towards your father. and himself. he just said that he doesn't do it for sexual purposes, and you were almost offering him the same thing as your mother.
awful.
you glance at him one more time, and when you find him already staring at you with an intense gaze, you take it as your cue to leave. a look of hatred, curiosity or lust, you didn't know. you only knew that you felt nervous under his stare, sweat emerging on your skin and stomach turning from fear that he read your mind and caught you thinking about him inappropriately.
"it's a bit late, i'll excuse myself."
"oh, already?" your father asks, planting a kiss on your temple. "i suppose it is quite late. do you need me to walk you back home?"
"no, that's fine. you guys have fun though. oh, mr kim."
mr kim looks at you, surprised that you're addressing him after all night of avoiding his gaze. "yes?"
"wonderful works, truly. thank you for the invite." it's the least you can do after shamelessly shitting on his work in front of him.
"why, thank you. i appreciate it, especially coming from my best friend's daughter. let me walk you to the door."
and you don't get a say in it. your father practically pushes you into his best friend, who skillfully grabs your waist and restores your balance. your breathing seems to stop the few seconds he holds you, grip secure and manly on your body. when he releases you, it feels empty. you wish to be held again, manhandled, thrown around, anything by him.
"listen, i'm sorry for what i said." you say, walking towards the door and keeping up with him.
"mhm," he hums, as if it's not a big deal.
"no, really, i just..."
"it's fine." he says, holding your coat in the air for you.
"i sometimes speak before i think," you put one arm in the sleeve, "and i end up hurting someone or embarrassing myself."
"it's really fine." he says, tone calm and low. he helps your other arm in the sleeve, then, as if he knew your newfound weak spot, he places his hands on your waist and turns you towards him. only now, you are so determined to apologize to him that you don't even notice what he is doing.
"in this case, i did both. mr kim, please, accept my apology." he adjusts the collar of the coat, then buttons it up.
"i told you, it's fine." he is persistent.
you are a babbling mess, trying to correct the image of yourself he has created in his head, which couldn't possibly be good. after all, mr kim hongjoong is way too hot to have a bad opinion about you. you continue speaking, and he continues adjusting your clothes. it is not until he firmly grabs your jaw in his big warm hand that you shut your mouth. you look at him, almost startled, and gulp.
"i appreciate honest opinion. you are the only one who didn't kiss my ass tonight, and i appreciate it more than all the compliments i've gotten. so trust me when i say that it is fine. don't ever apologize for your opinions, you're not that kind of girl."
"what kind of girl do you think i am?"
he smirks, then rubs your cheek with his thumb as he brings your face closer to his. "not a good one, that's for sure."
the words shoot arrows to your core, and you suddenly feel hotter than the hottest summer day. you exhale shakily, not knowing what to do with yourself. he looks satisfied with the reaction you gave him, and decides to finally stop teasing.
"watch the road when crossing." he sends you a playful wink, then opens the door for you.
"thank you," you manage to say, and only nod his way before making your way down the street into the chilly autumn night.
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the more time you spend with your father, the more you keep hearing about the artist who won't leave your mind anyway. from his stories, mr kim has been spoiling him rotten. no wonder he isn't home anymore. sitting on your father's porch on his swinging chair and taking in the last rays of sunshine before the harsh winter, you can't help but ask about the mystery man.
"how come he's your childhood best friend but i've only met him that evening?"
"well, you were young. you didn't pay any attention to things that aren't crushes, school and gossip."
"wow."
"it's true. you were just a kid, then a teen. and hongjoong wasn't around much during the day. then, he met ramona and moved with her to a different town. and then, while he was trying to save money and start a family, she was jumping on someone else on the bed that he bought with the last savings. they separated, and hongjoong started travelling just so he could be away from the town. he said everything reminds him of the night he found them. and i accompany him, which is really hard for me as you can see."
"oh, you're living a very hard life at the moment, dad. jokes aside, that sucks for him. do i know her?"
your father scrunches his eyebrows, as if he doesn't want to remember the woman. "she's still around. she was at the gallery, that whore."
it surprises you to hear him say such harsh words. he is usually semi-polite with his speech. mr kim must've really gone through something when even your father reacts like this.
"really? why would she come? did she have the invitation?"
"no, of course not. this isn't a big town, words spread faster than anything. she came with her boytoy to make fun of him, but got shat on when she saw how successful he has gotten. she just looked at me, tried to push the statue like a fucking idiot, then left angrily. i don't know what goes on in that woman's mind."
you scoff, then feel relieved that there was a bigger fool than you there. "how did he become an artist?"
"you can ask him that yourself. he doesn't bite, you know."
you take a sip of the peach tea, then set it aside quickly. still scorching. "why would you say that? i'm not scared of him or anything."
"you were running away from him yesterday. i didn't want to ask because i didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but it was a little disrespectful towards him. he was hurt."
"did he tell you that?" you raise an eyebrow.
"no...?"
"he'll live." you simply say, then grab your phone.
you type his name in the social app again, hoping to see a new post. and there it is, a brand new post, just twenty seconds ago. simple pictures from that night, the group posing in front of the museum, then in front of various photos. then, random shots of food, drinks, and finally, you.
you, staring at the photo that you loved the most in the hall, taken from the profile. it looks like something that jumped out of pinterest, and not something that he secretly snapped before approaching you. the photo is so good that you might even post it yourself.
art admiring art, the caption says. you're surely reading too much into it. he doesn't mean it about you. there's multiple people in the photos, for god's sake. but no, your delusional self loves to make an appearance, and thus the filthy thoughts of kim hongjoong resurface again. you've been trying to push it down, especially in front of your father, but one night of insomnia, a fresh image of kim hongjoong in a tight turtle neck grabbing your face, and a hand down your sleepwear, you've fallen into the void.
now, you can't escape it. you fantasize about him, day and night, stalk his accounts, even take the longer route to work just to pass by the museum in hopes of catching a glance of him. but all you've gotten is sore feet and more sexual frustration. nothing helps anymore, not a single toy that you have once neatly packed under the bed and were collecting dust up until recently. so when your father asks you to drop some things over at the atelier, you are happy to do it.
when you hear the word atelier, you expect a cozy little room in an old building with wooden furniture and with the smell of paint. but you forget that kim hongjoong is filthy rich. the address your father has given you takes you to a whole wooden cabin just outside of town, surrounded by a light forest. you gulp, realizing what situation you are in.
you are about to be alone with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. you are about to walk into his personal space. and you have to keep your thoughts collected, just in case he is a good people reader. and you somehow feel like he is. you are wet just standing outside, holding the bag of items your father has sent him and shamelessly thinking about all possible ways he would fu-
"oh, hi. i thought i saw someone standing there. please, do come in." mr kim calls from the door, wiping his hands with a cloth. you see stains of paint all over them, and paired with his bulging veins, you realize that you aren't the strongest soldier today and that you have to run home to a certain device as soon as possible.
"good evening, sir. i actually just came to drop this off, per my father's request." you hold out the bag for him to take.
he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, still standing at the door. "you can approach, the cabin doesn't bite."
you exhale, trying to calm your heart beat. it feels like it's going to jump out and plunge straight into his face. you finally make your way towards him, trying to avoid his gaze. you don't know if he does it on purpose, but it is so intense that it feels like even your hair is sweating. he is looking you up and down as you approach, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. he takes the bag from your hand, seeing that you don't plan on speaking yet.
"and i don't bite either." he smirks, then goes back inside the cabin.
"i wish you did," you mumble, then follow after him.
the place smells like paint, just how you imagined. and it is much cozier than it looks outside. you finally get a good look at him, now that his attention is on the contents of the bag. he wears a halfway unbuttoned white dress shirt, almost see through, black slacks, and has messy hair. as if he read your thoughts, he runs his fingers through it, taming the golden strands and showing off his finely aged face.
"a drink?" he asks, hand reaching for the wine bottle that sits on the table among the brushes. "ah, right. i forgot."
he pours himself a glass instead. you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate it, you really do. but for him? no, you're not like that. not with your father's friend, god no.
"this one is actually very sweet. it doesn't have that much alcohol in it. want a sip?"
he holds his own glass for you to try. under the warm yellow lights, you see the outline of his lips on the edge of the glass. you feel ashamed that you do take the glass, and press the lips on the same outline. it takes every ounce in you not to jump into his arms and make out with him like there's no tomorrow. but you manage, only taking a sip of the dark liquid before returning the glass to him. you keep the liquid inside your mouth, afraid to let it pour down your throat. you are not ready for the stinging and bitter aftertaste. but the longer you hold it, the more you look like a squirrel with puffy cheeks and your eyes tear up.
mr kim notices, and chuckles. not mockingly, but maybe a bit fondly. he approaches you, taking your jaw into his hand again. you notice the dried paint on his fingers, and his rolled up sleeves again. his eyes look into yours, and if he wasn't holding your head up so you can look at him, you would surely turn around and leave. it is too much, yet you don't have many options at the moment. to look away, or to maintain the eye contact. he seems to be into it, and so you give it to him. you are starting to be into it too.
his thumb rubs your cheek, much like that night. his eyes roam your face, as if he is memorizing every single detail on it. he licks his lips, and his gaze softens. "swallow for me."
in the dead silence, you can almost hear your sanity shatter. you do as he tells you, with no thoughts in your brain. the liquid stings your throat, but the growing lust inside of you overshadows it. you subconsciously lick your lips, mimicking him. he smiles to himself, noticing it.
"good girl."
what you didn't expect is for him to turn around and sit on the wooden stool, rolling his sleeves further up and getting back to his painting. you stand in the middle of the room, red faced, warm and with drenched panties, shocked at his behaviour. does he do this with his models too? gets flirty, then continues his work like nothing happened? is that how he gets such erotic paintings?
"you can sit on the couch if you want, i'll be done soon. i can drive you back."
you sit on the couch, immediately sinking into it. "how did you know i didn't drive here?"
"you always walk," he simply replies, his back still turned towards you and his hands working on the canvas, "i see you every day when you pass by the museum."
oh.
"what do you say? think you can manage with me for half an hour in here? i heard you don't like me much."
your cheeks are redder than ever, lust combined with embarrassment bringing out the worst in you. "i apologized."
you hear him chuckle. "i know. no harm in a little teasing."
minutes feel like hours as you sit upside down on the comfy green couch, legs resting over the backrest and head hanging from the couch above the carpet. he doesn't pay you much attention, but all of your attention is on him. you watch as his back muscles move when he reaches for a certain paint or brush on the high shelves, as his fingers run through his hair to get it out of his face, as his hand rubs the paint into the canvas. you feel a sensation on your clit, seeing his finger rub the paint in such an erotic way that you think it's not a coincidence.
you breathe out, trying to calm yourself again. you could leave, yes. but you don't want to. you're fine. you'll live. you distract yourself with snooping around his drawers next to the couch. you find a clean set of brushes, unused paint, and packages of clay. you play with the brushes, tapping them like drumsticks, then acting out spells from harry potter, and whatnot. until you decide to dim that little spark of dignity you had left.
you glance at hongjoong again, who still sits on the stool and has made progress on the painting. you flip your skirt over, and move your panties aside. using the soft part of the brush, you glide it over your clit, and shudder at the feeling. he stops for a moment, and you hurriedly put the skirt back in place. he doesn't spare you a glance, but simply takes a sip of wine. when he returns to his work, you also return to yours.
your hand reaches for one of the pillows, and gets trapped under your teeth as your other hand continues teasing you with the soft brush. you bite into the poor pillow, tug it and arch your back, all while pleasuring yourself with kim hongjoong's brushes, on his couch, right behind his back. you go painfully slow, as to not make too much noise. you're driving yourself crazy, and you can't help but imagine what wonders he could do to you if he just turned around.
so close to reaching the release, you close your eyes, and throw your head back further, still in the upside down position. the brush works faster, the soft bristles gently but fast brushing against your swollen clit, caressing your nerves just right. so damn close, just a tad bit more, and-
"put that down."
like frost, his voice makes all the heat and lust disappear from your body. you sit still, eyes still closed, hoping that he will just disappear if you do so. that you will get yourself out of the awkward situation.
"i said..." you hear footsteps, and before you can actually listen to him, he grabs you by your jaw again, forcing you to look at him, "...put. that. down."
his eyes are stone cold, eyebrows furrowed. you gulp, feeling so small and miserable under his gaze.
"now."
your hand drops the brush on the couch, then fixes the skirt. you try to sit up straight, but hongjoong's grip on your face is strong. you stay still, waiting for the scolding to begin. you're terrified, you want to disappear. you want to drown in that bucket of paint that sits next to his stool, and never resurface again.
"what the hell do i do with you? first you hate me, then you like me, then you avoid me. now, you ride my painting brushes? how am i supposed to approach this?"
you don't try to speak. you don't trust yourself with words. you can only sound pathetic, begging for forgiveness again. so you decide to keep your mouth shut and let him be disappointed in you. he breaks eye-contact with you, only to have a sip of his wine which he brought over to the couch. he keeps it in his hand, eyes locked on you again. his thumb caresses your bottom lip, while his eyes roam the state of your body. your chest still rises and falls quickly, coming down from an orgasm denial. flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead with hair sticking to it, almost drool covered pillow with bite marks, and your arousal on his brushes and couch.
hongjoong breathes out his nose, a glint visible in his eyes.
"open up." he says, voice raspy and eyes softened.
you do as he says, opening your mouth until his thumb can comfortably sit in it. he massages your tongue, circling it and playing with it. he takes another sip of the dark liquid, then looks at you with that glint again. he removes his thumb, only to bring his head closer and pour the liquid from his mouth into yours. you swallow it without hesitation, too mesmerized and aroused by the situation. never in your life did you think that drinking from someone else's mouth was going to make you almost orgasm.
"good girl," he praises, voice barely a whisper in the silent cabin.
he downs the rest of it, then throws it on the floor aside. the glass cracking makes you twitch, but he is quick to hush you and caress your cheek.
"s-sir-" you finally speak, not even sure what you want to say.
"yes?" the man replies.
"i- i should-" you stutter, trying to come up with anything that will get you out of there, "i should go."
hongjoong raises an eyebrow, believing your words as much as you believe them. his hands fumble with the zipper of his slacks. then, he takes the pillow you had just used and gently puts it under your head.
"comfy?"
"yes...?" you say, confused.
"good."
through the opening of his pants, he pulls himself out, wasting no time in giving it a few slow strokes. your mouth waters at the sight, even if it is upside down. his hard, thick cock leaks above your head, ready to be licked clean.
"open up for me, princess."
you shudder at the nickname, and at the way he gently holds your head so that it is aligned with his cock. you open your mouth once again, slightly sticking your tongue out for him. the man presses the tip against your lips, coating them in pre-cum before pushing past them. he grunts, placing both of his hands on your cheeks to hold your head still. the warm muscle glides against your tongue, kissing the back of your neck. you can't help but imagine how it would glide inside of you, slowly, or fast, gently, or hard. you'll take anything he gives you.
"relax your throat, baby." his voice is raspy and quiet in your ears.
you do as told, trying your best to relax it. as soon as you do, hongjoong seems to lose himself a bit. he slams his hips forwards, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat and making you gag around him. tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you don't let them. his hand then reaches over to your skirt, flipping it over and exposing your drenched panties still pulled aside.
his fingers find your entrance without teasing, and he dips his finger in so easily. your walls squelch around him, arousal flooding and coating his digits. due to the position you're in, his rough fingers rub your spongy wall exactly how you need it. you squirm under his touch, feeling overstimulated even though you haven't orgasmed yet. he adds two more fingers, stuffing you almost to the brim. you're full of him, in both holes, and a whiny and squirming mess.
he abuses your mouth, admiring the outline of his cock on your neck.
"rub your pretty clit for me, princess."
hesitantly, your fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing it in circles and guiding yourself closer to an orgasm. hongjoong's fingers are restless in your hole, pumping in and out, making you moan and whine around his cock. the vibrations must feel good for him, because he throws his head back and groans. entirely lost in the pleasure of your tight mouth against him, he can't help but slam his hips harder and faster, and his fingers start matching the rythym.
you try to beg, but all the words are muffled by his equally abused cock.
"what was that, pretty girl?" he looks down at you, pure ecstasy on his face.
"please-" you somehow manage to say it.
"please? do you know what you're begging for?"
you shake your head. you don't, truly. begging for him to speed up? to slow down? to make you orgasm? or not? you have no idea. you just beg him, to give you everything he has to offer.
the moment is shattered when your phone rings, the word dad on the screen making your stomach turn. hongjoong stops, giving you a moment to collect yourself before handing you the phone. he helps you sit up straight, putting a pillow under you so that you are comfortable. you take a deep breath, who knows which one in the row that day. hongjoong caresses your cheek, as if he wasn't deep inside you both ways just seconds ago. charming, he'd say.
"hello?" you answer the phone.
"hey, kid. did you deliver those things to hongjoong?"
"yes, dad."
"great! i was thinking about inviting him for dinner tomorrow. wanna come and help me?"
"sure thing."
"i was thinking steak, with that whiskey sauce you make..."
you are no longer paying attention, because hongjoong is on his knees in front of the couch. he gently spreads your legs, and looks at you with a mischievous look. you shake your head silently, asking him to not do anything. but all falls in water when hongjoong licks a stripe up your slit and you shake under his touch. your legs close reflexively, but the older man is quick to hold your thighs in place as he devours you on his couch. he makes out with your folds, as if he is kissing your real lips. his tongue teases the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles. he sucks it, tugs it and rubs it, all the things that have your fingers grasping his hair and pulling mercilessly.
his fingers find their way inside you again, curling up so that you get maximum pleasure. a whine escapes your lips, and hongjoong stops everything he is doing. you beg him with your eyes not to stop. you can't go home empty handed. but the man only puts his hand over your mouth, and ever so slowly, slides inside of you. you swallow him so easily, arousal leaking all over him and his couch.
"dad, i really have to-" you gasp, feeling his cock brushing against your sweet spot, "i have to go."
"oh? alright then. so, tomorrow?"
hongjoong grabs your waist, not moving his own hips, but instead slamming your body on his cock and bruising your skin with his strong grip. his hair falls over his eyes, loose strands perfectly decorating his face painted with pure pleasure.
"huh? yes, yes! tomorrow. okay, see you!"
you've never ended a call so fast, and you've never thrown your phone so far away.
"don't hold back, darling. let me hear you."
and that's when you let go. you grip his shoulders, moan into his ear, whine, squirm, whatnot. you certainly don't make it easy for him.
"for an old pervert, you sure are having the time of your life." he teases.
you try glaring at him, but you can barely keep your head up. "just fuck me, please."
"you finally know what you're begging for. only you're not asking properly."
"pretty please?"
"no, you can do better."
you think hard, defocusing from the orgasm chasing for a moment. then, it clicks.
"please, daddy."
hongjoong chuckles happily, and snaps his hips harder into you. "that's a good girl."
something about having sex with clothes on drove you crazy, especially since hongjoong was in his natural habitat and clothing. it pushes you over the edge, seeing him brush his hair back and looking at you with such lust. you're shaking harder than ever, clear liquid squirting out of you and all over him and his furniture. you're in shock, trying to reach your breath, while hongjoong still sloppily fucks his cum into you.
he grunts and hums against your lips, not yet kissing you. which you suddenly find very frustrating.
"you should shit on my art more often, eh?"
with a laugh, you try to cover yourself with the blanket. but hongjoong takes it from your hand, then uses it to wipe the liquid off your body. he tosses it aside, then reaches for his own coat to give it to you. hesitantly, you take it. as you put it on, hongjoong examines your face for any traces of regret. when he sees none, he smiles fondly at you, pressing his lips on top of your hand, just like that night.
"you're a very pretty young woman, you know that?"
"thanks," you say awkwardly.
"you wanted to kiss me, i know. but..."
you roll your eyes, acting unphased.
"...i don't think i'm ready yet."
"you just rearranged my guts, and a kiss is a problem for you?"
he laughs, but not because it's funny, but because you are right. he helps you lay down on the couch, then covers you with the spare blanket. "we'll get there, pretty. right now, i want you to take a power nap before i take you home. got it?"
"got it, sir."
"good girl."
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658 notes · View notes
kaleldobrev · 7 months
Text
I Want Them To Hear
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Reader
Summary: Ben wants to make sure Hughie knows what it actually sounds like when the two of you have sex. In other words, Ben makes damn sure Hughie gets yet another night of no sleep because of the two of you.
Original Prompt: Requested by @k-slla | I loved your last post (poor, poor Hughie 😂). I would love to read a sequel, where SB& reader DO keep everyone up, for other reasons 😏 (if you're up to it 😊) x Kerly
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Cursing (23x), Smut (Oral - M&F receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex - P in V), Implied p*rn watching, Hughie getting scarred for life (again), Semi-Public sex (living room)
Authors Note: Before you read this make sure you read A Simple Misunderstanding first | I think 23 curse words is a new record for curse words for me (21 out of them are the same too) | I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy it! | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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You looked over at the clock that was above the fireplace in the living room, and it was almost midnight, and you weren’t the least bit surprised that you weren’t even tired. Although you didn’t have a good sleep schedule before you joined the Boys (as you were a full-time college student when you joined the group), your sleep schedule somehow became even more jacked when you joined; something you didn’t think was even remotely possible. You had found yourself going to sleep at three, four, sometimes five in the morning, or not even going to sleep at all – a constant flow of energy drinks and coffee to keep you going.
The last couple of days though were unusually uneventful, verging on normal, like there wasn’t some kind of revenge war going on. The closest thing that had been kind of eventful was Hughie’s outburst this morning over breakfast, accusing you and Ben of having sex which kept him up – something that actually didn’t happen between you and Ben even though it was something that you did want to happen last night. Due to his little outburst though, the rest of the day was filled with a consistent flow of jokes (mainly at your best friend’s expense) that seemed to put everyone in a great mood (except Hughie of course). In a way, you did feel bad for him, but at the same time, his outburst this morning was unnecessary.
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Your legs were currently in Ben’s lap, one of his arms draped over them as his other hand was lying on the arm of the couch with a remote in hand; the only source of light in the room coming from the television. As Ben flipped through channel after channel, you couldn’t help but stare at him as the shadows on his face changed with every single flip trying to find something to watch. “How is there so many channels and nothing to watch?” He asked, not even looking at you.
You shrugged your shoulders and he turned to face you. “I found plenty of things I’d watch. It’s not my fault you’re picky.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not picky. TV just sucks now.” He began, and you already knew where this conversation was going. It was about to turn into a ‘back in my day’ rant that you had heard practically every single day since you had met him. “Back in my day, TV was actually good.” Before you could interject he continued. “We didn’t have stupid reality shows about people who are famous for nothing.” You couldn’t help but agree with him on that one. “There’s 400 channels and only two of them are watchable.”
“And which channels does the almighty Soldier Boy deem watchable?” You asked, emphasizing the nickname.
“ESPN and TCM.” He answered without hesitation. You simply just rolled your eyes.
“Of course those would be the only two channels.” You mumbled, even though you knew he could hear you; there was no use in mumbling around him. “I love ESPN and TCM too, but there are other channels that are watchable Ben. How about FoodNetwork and HGTV?”
Ben scoffed. “Sometimes they’re watchable.”
“Okay. How about…” You thought for a moment, trying to think of a channel that Ben would possibly enjoy; then it hit you, causing a smirk to form on your face. “How about Skinamax?”
He looked at you with a confused expression. “What the fuck is Skinamax?” You let out a slight laugh, causing him to raise a brow. “What?”
“You don’t know what Skinamax is?” You asked. “Honestly, I’m slightly surprised.” You held out your hand. “Hand me the remote and I’ll show you.”
“Why can’t you just fucking tell me?” He asked, his facial expression annoyed.
“Because Ben, it’d be more fun to show you.” Your lips turned into a smirk. “Don’t you trust me?”
Again, your response earned yet another eyeroll from him. Of course I fucking trust you, he thought. What kind of stupid question is that? “Fine.” He said, handing you the remote.
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“Okay, and why couldn’t you of just told me it was just fucking porn?” He asked, his tone sounding a little annoyed with you.
“Because, I thought it would be much more fun to show you.” You turned away from the television and looked at him. “You’ve watched porn before though right? Like, I’m assuming you have cause well…you’re…well you.”
He looked at you briefly before looking back at the screen again. “Have you watched porn before?” He mumbled, mocking your tone. “Of course I fucking have.” He said, a tad louder and a bit more annoyed sounding. He turned back to face you. “Who hasn’t watched porn before?”
You shrugged. “Fair point.” You said. “You know…” you began, as you started inching your way closer to him. “As much as I’d love to continue watching this…interesting movie. There is something I’d much rather be doing.”
He smirked, his full attention on you now. “And what’s that Sweetheart?”
“Well, you did make me a promise this morning.” Your voice was low, your hand inching closer to the hem of his pants.
“I made you a lot of promises this morning.” His voice was low, but not nearly as low as yours.
“But there was one in particular.” Your fingers started slipping into the waistband of his pants as you maintained complete eye contact with him.
“You going to tell me or is it more fun to show me?” He asked, your hand made contact with his cock and you gently wrapped your hand around him. Ben slightly groaned at the contact.
You couldn’t help but smirk. “I think you know the answer.” You whispered.
Without a second to waste, he pulled his sweats down giving you slightly better access as you started moving your hand up and down. You went slow, knowing that it was killing him inside with the pace that you were going at. As he was about to open up his mouth to protest the slow pace, your head went down and you started sucking him off; a slight taste of pre-cum on your tongue. Your hand and mouth started going in tandem with each other; no longer focused on his face, but focusing on what you were doing. “Fuck,” he groaned, and he threw his head back into the couch, enjoying the feeling of your mouth and hands wrapped around him, a feeling that he’d wanted since the moment he laid his eyes on you – despite him knowing how much you hated him at first.
You released him with a pop for a moment; your hand still going. But the loss of your mouth on him caused him to open his eye to look at you. “Ben, you need to be quiet. I don’t want the whole house to hear.” You stated.
Your words gave Ben an idea, and a smirk grew on his face. “Princess, I want them to hear.”
“You…you want them to hear?” Your voice a whisper. “Why?”
“Cause I want your little friend to know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck.” His words made you audibly gulp, and you barely even knew how to respond. Weirdly, the thought turned you on.
“Okay.” Your reply hesitant. Despite the slight hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his cock again; your mouth and hand working in tandem again.
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As you worked, the sounds that were coming out of Ben’s mouth weren’t remotely quiet; a mixture of groaning and moaning. His hand gripped your hair slightly, pulling at it gently, messing it up. Between him basically playing with your hair as you blew him, and the sounds that he was making; it encouraged you to pick up the pace a little, and you yourself felt yourself starting to get increasingly more wet. “God, your fucking mouth.” He groaned. He bucked up a little, and when he did that he let himself go; releasing himself into your mouth and down your throat. You usually weren’t a swallower but for him, you made the exception.
Once you helped him ride out his orgasm, you released him with a pop; the two of you making eye contact again. “Lay down Princess,” he demanded, “and spread those legs of yours,” he grinned.
“Yes Sir.” You said, probably a little bit too loud.
The nickname you gave him just made him grin even wider, slightly more evil looking. “Can’t wait to wreck this pussy of yours.” He said, completely pulling your shorts down in one swift movement. He eyed your bare pussy for a moment before smirking up at you, cocking a brow. “Went commando today uh?” You bit your bottom lip, nodding. “Sweetheart, if I would have known, I would have fucked you on the kitchen table this morning just to prove a point.”
“Be-” before you could speak, his point finger started to slowly dip inside of you. “Fuck.” You moaned, slightly whispering.
“You’re fucking soaked Princess.” He said, smugness in his voice. “All this just from blowing me uh?” He added a second finger as they both started going into you a bit deeper, a slight curve to them.
“Y-yes.” You moaned out; his two fingers starting to move slowly in and out of you, a similar pace you had done earlier on him.
“So, tell me this Sweetheart. Are you generally just a cock slut, or are you just a slut for my cock?”
The pace of his fingers started to pick up gingerly; no words were forming in your brain to even respond to his question. He was barely doing anything to you, and you were slightly embarrassed by the way your body was reacting to his touch, but at the same time, he actually knew what he was doing – hitting you in all the right spots. “Just…Fuck…Just for yours.”
“Just for mine what?” He added a third finger, curling them inside of you. All you could do was moan; verging on the sound of pornographic. “Need you to use your words Princess. I know how much you like to talk, don’t hold back on me now.”
“Fuck me…” you mumbled, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks. “I’m only a slut for your cock Ben.”
He clicked his tongue a few times, seeming unsatisfied with your answer. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite hear you.” The smugness in his voice returned, knowing that he could hear you. You knew what he really meant: your friends couldn’t hear you.
With a small groan, you spoke just a tad louder, hoping it would be loud enough to satisfy him. “I’m only a slut for you cock Ben.”
He grinned. “There it is.” He sounded so proud of himself.
“Ben I’m about to –” you came, not even finishing your sentence, your orgasm practically exploding out of you. Despite the amount of times you’ve had sex, this was the first time you could actually say that you had a mind-blowing orgasm. He continued to move his fingers in and out of you rapidly as you rid out your orgasm.
“Fucking beautiful,” he praised. “I’ll never get fucking tired of seeing a woman cum.”
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As soon as you came down from your high, he removed his fingers from you, licking them clean; and you already hated the feeling of not having his fingers inside of you. “Fuck.” You breathed out, your chest rising up and down as you tried catching your breath.
Ben chuckled. “You good there Sweetheart?” He sounded amused.
“Yeah…So…Good…” your voice trailed off.
“Good, cause I’m not done with you just yet.” Before you had the chance to respond, he pulled you by your ankles, sliding you across the couch. Pulling you into his lap, both of your hands rested on his chest, slight heat radiating from it, which strangely felt good against your palms.
Your legs were spread open wide enough that you were able to straddle him; your knees on either side of his thighs resting on the couch. Without any kind of direction from him, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you completely naked; you felt even more vulnerable somehow than you did before. You leaned in, your hands on either side of his face now and kissed him; his hands automatically gripping your hips. Based on the tightness of the grip you knew you’d have bruises, and honestly – you couldn’t care less, you wanted him to leave marks.
The both of you moaned into the kiss, and you started rocking your hips gently, trying to obtain some kind of friction. He smirked against your lips. “Someone’s a little needy.” He teased. “You just came Sweetheart.”
“Yeah but…” You kissed his neck, and leaned in close to his ear, “that was on your fingers, not on your cock.”
“And you say I have the dirty mouth.” He laughed a little, removing his hands from your hips. You sat back on his thighs as he took one of his hands and wrapped it around himself, pumping it in his hand a few times. “Going to fill that pussy right up.”
“Please.” Your tone slightly begging.
“So cute when you beg.” He said, his tip teasing your entrance. “You ready for me Sweetheart?” You nodded and placed your hands on his shoulders, almost as if you were bracing yourself. As he started pushing himself inside of you, you let out a long moan, shutting your eyes. “Fucking love your moans.” He complicated, as he watched your face slightly contort. “Taking me so well too.” He chuckled. “Really are a cock slut uh?”
“Only for you.” You breathed, his cock almost fully inside of you.
“Damn right only for me.” His voice sounded slightly possessive; and the tone turned you on more than you thought it would, and he felt you clench around him. “You like that uh?” You nodded in response. “Good.”
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As you started moving your hips, Ben started placing kisses between your breasts, every so often taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The noises you were making were pornographic sounding again; no words really escaping your lips, just moans. Your hand gripped the back of his head, clutching at his hair. “Ben,” you moaned, shutting your eyes as you continued to rock your hips.
He attached his lips to your neck now, slightly nipping and sucking on the skin. Not only were there going to be marks on your hips, there were going to be marks on your neck now too. “Mine,” you heard him mumble; but you weren’t entirely sure if you heard him properly.
You opened your eyes and looked at him, and he removed his lips from your neck. “You heard me,” his voice possessive again. “You’re mine now.” He said. You weren’t sure if this was bedroom talk or he actually did mean that you were his, and his alone. Either way, you loved the sound of being his – despite the slight alpha/misogynistic undertone to it.
“All yours.” You agreed. He took two of his fingers and started rubbing your clit, trying to get you closer and closer to the edge. You felt the pressure start to build, and you were insanely close to coming again. “I’m so close.”
“Can’t wait to cum inside of you Princess.” His fingers started picking up the pace, and his hip movements were starting to get erratic – he was close too.
“Fuck.” You mumbled, your own movements matching his erratic ones. “I’m about to –” as you started to cum, his lips latched onto yours, and you moaned into his mouth.
“I’m right there with you.” He said, coming closely after you. The kiss deepened as the two of you rid out your orgasms; his fingers working lazily on your clit.
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“Holy shit.” You said, essentially collapsing onto him. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as your chests were pressed up against each other; his arms wrapped around your lower back, his clock still buried inside of you.
“You alright there Sweetheart?” He asked, kissing the top of your head.
“Yeah just…” you started breathing a little heavy again. “Don’t have your stamina.” You laughed a little. “I’ll be okay.”
“Good. Cause I can’t have you dyin’ on me.” His tone was joking, but you knew that he would be devastated if anything were to ever happen to you. Because over the course of time he had known you, he had grown to deeply care about you; and it was something that surprised the both of you – hell, it even surprised the rest of the group.
"What the fuck!" You and Ben both turned and saw Hughie standing in the doorway of the living room; his facial expression looked as though he was about to blow a gasket.
Ben rolled his eyes out of annoyance. "Do you mind?" You gently lifted yourself off of him, grabbing a nearby blanket and quickly covered yourself and Ben, although the damage was probably already done.
"Yes! Matter of fact I do mind! This is the second night in a row that I woke up because of the two of you!" He yelled; and you could of sworn you saw a vain bulging from his neck. He was pissed.
Ben laughed, amused by Hughie's reaction. "Now you know what it actually sounds like when the two of us fuck. Should of kept your mouth shut this morning kid." He grinned, and gave him a wink.
"Seriously? You guys were loud because of what I said this morning?" Hughie's voice was now annoyed. Ben simply just shrugged at his question. "You are such an asshole."
Ben shrugged again. "Worse has been said."
“Hughie I –” you began, but Ben cut you off.
"But, I can promise you this," he got up from the couch, pulling up his pants in the process as he made his way toward Hughie. He placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him directly in the eyes, grinning. "You better get used to not fucking sleeping cause your friend has one hell of a pussy and mouth on her." You didn't need to see his face to know the absolute pleasure he had saying that to your best friend.
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Tag List: @jackles010378 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @zombie-freak If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!
1K notes · View notes
ham1lton · 4 days
Text
fight for this love.
pairings: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader
warnings: nothing!
faceclaim: bella hadid.
summary: jude meets you at a promotional event for a brand you both have a deal with. after the first meeting, he’s smitten, but there is a problem. he never got your number.
— part three of my 500 followers celebration ♡ —
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liked by gucci, judesgf and 1,028,728 others.
vogue: gucci’s newest ambassador, footballer jude bellingham, spills the beans (no pun intended) on his fav outfit combo, his ideal type and his favourite kebab place back home in birmingham.
user1: NEED HIM SO BAD 😍😍😍😩😩😩
user8: brb going to buy out gucci rn.
user7: WAIT…. his ideal type???
-> user9: it’s lowkey kind of boring. specific but not specific. he says he loves girls who are focused, smart and have good relationships with their friends and family.
-> user7: check, check and CHECK 😩 brb calling up my deadbeat dad rq just for u jude 😘😍
user6: gucci king we love him.
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liked by yourbffname, oscarpiastri and 1,237,665 others.
yourusername: gucci loves me and i love gucci ♥︎ thank u to the whole gucci team for having me alongside the other ambassadors at today’s event! it was so much fun!
oscarpiastri: you had the entire gucci catalogue to choose from and you still chose to dress like an ailing grandfather.
-> yourusername: drip or drown baby!
-> oscarpiastri: you’re the latter.
user1: i met you today at the gucci event!! you were so sweet. i was the one who gave u the bracelet! 🫶🏼
-> yourusername: yes!! thank u sm!! it was so cute and matched my outfit so well. i’m still wearing it!
logansargeant: when are you hooking me up with free gucci 🤨😒 we’ve been friends for more than a decade ms l/n….
-> yourusername: lemme work my magic 🙈✨
user78: she should have been a model instead of a formula one driver!! so pretty!! that bone structure 🤤
user7: did you see jude looking at her throughout the whole damn event? omg. he’s down bad.
-> user63: bro was simping 😭 i don’t blame him. i mean… it’s y/n.
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourbffname and 1,237,765 others.
judebellingham: took these pics last night. whoever my midnight muse was, please message me.
oscarpiastri: i know her mate. it’s landonorris.
-> landonorris: yes ‘tis i, your gucci girl 🥰
logansargeant: it’s yourusername, man. thank you for this. now she’ll stop talking about you in the gc 🙄🙄
-> user7: american and british solidarity.
user8: need a man willing to do a worldwide search for me.
-> user26: commit a crime, flee and you’ll get a whole fleet of men doing that for you <3
user12: oh to be jude bellingham’s midnight muse.
user90: how does bro not know the current world champion and first female f1 driver to break many barriers in the sport?? like she’s a household name 😭
-> user25: chronically offline 😭
yourusername: hi!! it’s me! these photos are gorgeous! yes, please message me <3 also ignore oscar, logan and lando in your comments please. they have no home training.
-> logansargeant: you could have stopped me if you had given me the gucci u promised 🤨
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liked by judebellingham, ynswifey and 1,272,892 others.
yourusername: i felt like my paddock outfit just wasn’t appreciated enough today.
oscarpiastri: this is all you post after your win?
-> yourusername: i put a lot of effort into this outfit! only charles said something. 😔
-> oscarpiastri: wow! y/n! jeans and a t-shirt! revolutionary!
-> yourusername: i’m gonna pretend that wasn’t sarcastic 😝🥰
user728: oscar doesn’t see the vision. this is super cute!!
user267: her posting this after she just hard launched her relationship with jude?!
-> user128: like girlie straight up jumped and kissed him after her win and hasn’t even acknowledged it???
judebellingham: u look so good.
-> user682: you couldn’t have texted her this shit? lmaoooooo.
user516: i appreciated it!!
-> yourusername: i love u sm 🫶🏼😍
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liked by ynsgf, zendaya and 1,727,982 others.
yourusername: tried to find out if blondes do truly have more fun. answer tbd.
— 📸 creds - my bf.
judebellingham: that’s ME in the caption btw.
-> yourusername: we know babe 😁🥰😝
gucci: i guess we’re matchmakers now?
-> logansargeant: YASSS 😩 now can i get free gucci or no 🤨
-> oscarpiastri: crazy emoji use man 😭 is it ever that serious.
judebellingham: i love you so much.
-> yourusername: love u forever. glad to be urs. 💕🫶🏻
user1: she ate this down we love a bad bitch and her supportive bf!
user71: him flying her out after she wins the championship!!! we love this for her!!
user16: why can’t i have a hot gf, be sexy, be rich, one of the most promising young athletes currently and be lounging on a beach somewhere…
-> user72: why can’t i have a hot bf, be sexy, be rich, one of the most promising young athletes currently and be lounging on a beach somewhere…
user68: we love a blonde moment!
-> yourusername: halfway through our holiday, i saw zendaya, rihanna and beyoncé go blonde and got extreme fomo.
-> judebellingham: she made me dye it. i was terrified.
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author’s note: reader here is heavily based off of what it would have been if nepo!sis reader was the driver instead of o/s but in that universe, she never would have dated lando. so… small blessings ig?
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zanarkandskylines · 17 days
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Hiii omg I love your writings so much!!
May i request texting katsuki while reader is drunk in a bar (maybe bc reader just broke up with her previous boyfriend or sth. It’s up to you but please make it spicy 🔥) (also 18+ please 🥹)
ohhhh the things swirling in my head about this!!! thank you for the request nonnie & hope it delivers! 💜
on the rocks
『 ♡ 』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | friends to fwb ꒱ ⇢ your week couldn’t get any worse. between a screw up at work and getting dumped out of the blue, you needed to desperately let off some steam. thank goodness the girls were more than happy to take you out for the night in the city and spoil you with a good time. everything’s fine until you receive a text that spirals into an unpredicted hookup.
꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI mentions of alcohol, mild/implied smut, suggestive texting, friends to friends with benefits, heavy flirting, sexually comfortable reader, reader went through a break-up, soft bakugo, fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.6k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
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The bartender hands you the drink you ordered, nodding a thanks when you smile at her. You’re not drunk, per se, but you’re definitely buzzed - that warm and fuzzy feeling dancing through your veins, letting you relax for the first time all week. Tonight's goal was to think about absolutely nothing, to let go of all the shit weighing on your shoulders. Even if it's just for one night, anything to shake away the pain you've been carrying.
But the alcohol seems to be betraying you, forcibly shoving those thoughts to the forefront of your mind instead of burying them.
Memories of your ex begin to haunt you as your mind wanders aimlessly, the dam bursting that was keeping it all at bay. You try and shake your head to rid yourself of the feelings, but they just wouldn’t go away.
God, fuck him and every false promise he made to you.
Some people would consider three months a short amount of time, but to you, it felt like an eternity. He seemed so sweet, caring and kind when you first met, but once he forcibly ripped off your rose-colored glasses? He was nothing but a walking pile of shit.
Suddenly, your phone dings on the bar, lighting up to show a text message notification.
'Who the fuck is texting me so late?'
You blink a few times, re-reading the contact name before it registers: Katsuki Bakugo.
That's rather...odd. He's notorious for going to bed by 9pm - it’s almost midnight. You two were friends, sure, but never the 'text you in the middle of the night' type of friends. Curious to know what he wanted, you open the text to reveal nothing but a picture. When you squint through your hazy vision, you realize just what you're looking at.
It's a picture of Bakugo from the neck down, laying on his bed in nothing but grey sweats that are tugged down and nestled at the bottom of his hip bones. The pose accentuates the delicious deep V below his abs and shows the blonde trail disappearing underneath the hem of his sweatpants. The shadows trace each well-earned muscle, perfectly outlining them in the dim light of his bedroom.
Was this meant for you? Did he send it to you by accident? Your mind goes blank, stopping your previous train of thought about your stupid ex.
…did he send it to you on purpose? Your core pulses at the thought, causing you to cross your legs defensively.
Right on queue, another text pops up, your phone vibrating in your hands.
[katsuki] fuck, sorry. that was an accident
That was a bold face fucking lie, and you knew it. Bakugo's not that stupid to send the wrong text by mistake, especially a selfie. There's no way in hell he would even take a picture like that for someone unless he wanted it to be seen.
Liquid courage does you a favor when you reply, loosely teasing him about it.
[you] damn, katsuki. who's the lucky girl?
You don't notice Mina approaching you with how intently you're staring at your phone screen, startling you when she taps your shoulder.
"What are ya doing over here?! Come dance with us!" she pleads, pulling on your arm. She notices how you're clutching your phone like a lifeline and the coral tint on your cheeks. She quirks an eyebrow at you. "Who are you texting?"
Oh god, find a lie - fast! She'll see right through your facade if you don't.
"No one, just a spam text."
Mina stares at you - shit, she knows you're lying.
"You're a shit liar, babe. Who is it?"
"I got a random text from Katsuki," you admit, the flush in your cheeks deepening at his name. Are you into him, or is it the alcohol in your system? It's no secret that he's attractive, he's always been effortlessly handsome. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't checked him out a few times, but never acted on it. The two of you were friends and you’d assumed he didn't think much else of you.
Mina grabs the phone from your hands, entering in your passcode (how did she know it?!) and reading the texts. Her eyes blow open, pinching the screen to zoom in on the photo. You scramble to grab the phone back to quit her oogling as she's squealing with glee.
"Holy shit!" she yells. "Accident my ass, Blasty. Damn, that's hot."
"Mina! Keep your voice down," you beg, locking the screen to prevent anyone else from seeing.
"No one is listening over this music," she squawks, punching you lightly in the arm. "Come back to us soon you minx!"
And with that, she leaves you at the bar, returning to the dance circle with the rest of your girlfriends. Your phone vibrates a few more times in your hand and recaptures your attention.
[katsuki] thought you'd like a distraction [katsuki] shit, if this is weird, just tell me and i'll fuck off [katsuki] i should've just asked instead
So it was on purpose. You swallow hard as you shakily type out your reply, trying to keep your cool.
[you] it's not weird, what made you think of me? [katsuki] mina wouldn't shut the fuck up about you earlier. sent me pictures of you in the dress you have on, couldn't get it outta my head
When the fuck did Mina do that?! You had thought she was taking pictures of herself earlier at your apartment. That sneaky bitch!
[you] goddammit mina, i'm sorry about her. why would she send them to you?
You see the typing indicator pop up and disappear a few times before his response arrives.
[katsuki] you know how she is, playing matchmaker and shit with everybody [katsuki] honestly? i'm not mad about it [you] oh? [you] so that's why you sent it to me. hell of a pickup line kats [katsuki] fuck off [katsuki] i can't deny that you're gorgeous [you] yeah? feelings mutual
Your face is burning hot, sitting at the bar in disbelief that Bakugo's flirting with you. And it was all because he was infatuated with what you're wearing? He couldn't get it out of his head?
You're still debating on whether you want to yell at or thank Mina for igniting this fire. [katsuki] where are you right now? [you] sitting at the bar, some club in the city
Another picture is delivered to you on screen and has your jaw dropping to the floor.
The picture is closer to his face this time, cut off at his cheekbones and barely illuminated as Bakugo's fingers are parted over his mouth. His tongue is lazily hanging above his bottom lip with a string of salvia attached to one of his fingers.
Your legs twitch as you bite your lip, imagining his face slotted between your thighs.
[you] holy shit, katsuki...fuck [katsuki] find a bathroom or some dark corner [katsuki] there's more where that came from. just say the word, princess
The pet name is doing things to you that you didn't think was possible. Your overloaded with a sudden rush of arousal, heat twisting in your belly at his promise. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you bolt to the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you. Luckily, this club's on the nicer side, the bathroom not being as scummy as you thought it would be. You set your things on the counter and grab your phone, turning the camera on and pointing it in the mirror.
If that's how he wanted to play? You could play right back.
[you] that deserves a reward
The photo attached shows your breast pushed closed together, daring to spill out of the top of your dress and wearing the poutiest lip you could muster.
Bakugo’s response is immediate.
[katsuki] goddamn, your tits look amazing in that dress [you] would you believe me if i said they look better out of it?
You turn the camera back on and click the record button, sensually slipping the top of your dress down and letting your breasts loosely lay over the bust. Your nipples are pebbled from the rousing desire flowing through you, making them standing perfectly at attention. You give the camera a wink and squeeze one of your breasts playfully. Once you're happy with the video, you send it with no hesitation and readjust your dress. [katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] you alone? That's not the response you expected, but you roll with it. [you] yeah, one person bathroom
- Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo -
You stare at the contact screen for a few seconds before picking up.
"Hey Kat," you greet, nervousness wracking your body, the thrill of the situation making your heart flutter.
"I wanted 'ta hear your voice instead," Bakugo groans, heavy breaths following his words. "I never thought you'd...want to do this with me."
You can't help but laugh under your breath. "Never thought you wanted to, either."
You're thankful that your not drunk off your ass after all - you want to remember this. You're tipsy, but coherent.
And turned on to high heaven.
Bakugo breaks the silence before you cut him off. "I know you're fresh outta-"
"Katsuki, he's not worth mentioning. I'm focused on you right now."
"Yeah? Tell me more."
"I'd love to see what you're hiding under those sweats, Dynamight. I'm practically a puddle just thinking about it. How do you think my lips would look wrapped around you?"
You can hear Bakugo exhale into the phone and groan. He tries to hide it, but fails miserably.
"Cat got your tongue, huh? Too forward?"
"N-no. It's fuckin' hot. Shit," he whispers with baited breath. "God, what club are you at again?"
"The one near Shibuya station. Crystal Crown, I think. Why?"
There's a pause before you hear various clicks and a beep or two from his side before he answers.
"Changed my mind, this ain't happenin' over the phone the first time. You're 15 minutes from my place, I'm comin' to get ya."
You can feel your panties soak from your excitement, clenching at the thought of him just ravaging you in his car and not being able to make it back to his apartment before touching you like a man starved.
"Coming to sweep me off my feet or to fuck my brains out?" The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, but you don’t regret it when you hear Bakugo moan in response - loudly.
"Fuckin’ - have you been stockpilin’ this shit ‘ta say to me?" He laughs. “You’re gonna kill me before I leave the damn apartment.”
“Didn’t think you’d be so easy to play with,” you joke playfully, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “Better get here before I change my mind, find some other rebound in this stupid club.”
“I’ll be your fuckin’ rebound any day of the week, sweetheart. Ain’t no guy in that building better than me.”
His confidence makes it difficult to bite back the moan in your throat.
“Guess you need to prove it. Get your ass over here, I’ll be out front. You better be wearing those sweats.”
You’re about to hang up when you hear Bakugo say something quietly, too muted for you to make out right away.
“Kats?”
He clears his throat before repeating himself, his voice soft and low. “You sure y’want this? I don’t wanna fuck anythin’ up or whatever.”
“You won’t fuck anything up, nothing wrong with friends fucking with no strings attached. I already flashed my tits at you, no turning back now.”
You subtly hear him let go of the breath he was holding and a hollow chuckle, sounding relieved at your answer.
“Good. See ya soon.”
The line ends with a click, leaving you with your thoughts while staring in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been shaking until you attempt to walk, unexpectedly stumbling like a baby deer on your heels. Once you gather yourself, you exit the bathroom and hurry over to the dance floor. Mina spots you, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips when you approach the group.
“Where the hell have you been?!” She shouts over the music. “I was starting to think you died in there.”
“I’m heading home,” you say while waving your hand, brushing away her worries.
“Oh…oh my god. Is Bakugo coming to get you?!”
“Mina!”
Jiro and Uraraka turn in your direction, yelling in unison. “Bakugo?!?!”
You palm your face, desperately attempting to hide your flared cheeks as the girls squeal and cheer for you.
“Stop it! We’re still just friends!”
Mina clicks her tongue. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said about Kiri a year ago, and now look at us!”
“You gotta let us know how it goes,” Uraraka winks, elbowing you in the rib. "Rumor has it he lives up to his hero name in bed."
Before the interrogation continues, you back away from the group with a smile and turn for the entrance. You slide through the doors and slip out onto the sidewalk and see Bakugo parked out front, smiling as his eyes spot you on the busy street.
Has he ever smiled at you like that before?
He gets out of the car and walks around to greet you.
“Hey Katsu-”
Before you can process what’s happening, Bakugo’s got one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He gently leans you against the car as he swoops down to place a featherlight kiss to your lips. You squeak before melting into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sparks are flying through your whole body - a sensation you haven’t felt for a long time. When the two of you part, his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips parted with shallow breaths.
“Ready to go?” He asks, removing the hand from your neck and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your heart is in your throat, strangling any words you try to say, so instead, you just nod ‘yes.’ Bakugo walks you to the passenger side and opens the door for you, just like any other time you’ve hung out. When he shuts the door and goes to walk to the drivers side, you finally notice he’s wearing the damn grey sweatpants.
The entire drive back to his place, Bakugo’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh. His fingers danced over your skin, playing with the hem of your dress and gingerly squeezing the plush surface every so often. You return the favor, walking your fingers up the inside of his thigh a few times, stopping short of the growing tent in his sweats. Pulling up to his apartment complex seems to take the breath out of both of you. He turns the car off and you sit idly in silence, it's only a minute or two, but feels like a lifetime.
Bakugo gets out first, jogging over to your side to open your door. He takes your hand as you stand, closing the door behind you and swiftly sweeping you off your feet into his arms, bridal style.
"Wow, do all the girls you bring home get this treatment?" you tease, planting a kiss on his warm cheek.
"Never had the pleasure of bringin' a princess home, so no."
That shuts you up and makes you quiver in his hold.
"I'm honored, sir Dynamight. Take me to your castle!" You swoon, dramatically leaning back with a hand over your head.
Bakugo shakes his head and grins, starting to jog through the parking lot and up the stairs with you. You hold onto his shoulders while giggling uncontrollably, ecstatic to see where the night takes you.
One things for certain - you haven't thought about your ex once. And you look forward to keeping it that way.
tags; @slayfics @maddietries
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yume-fanfare · 2 years
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i have this card downloaded for some reason and every time i see it i take psychic damage
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