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#I'll throw it here because I'll lose it in the gallery if I don't
blobee · 2 months
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What could be better than dr Gears?
Nothing. That's right
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iznsfw · 1 year
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Give me your best minju femdom
just how much are you willing to give for a dream that big?
IZ Days of Christmas: Day 7 - Kim Minju
IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut
7,397 words
Categories | dominant_curator!Minju x aspiring_artist!you; mommy kink; MINJU LIKES BEING CALLED DADDY; degradation; #DomJu; femdom
Content warning | pegging, SLIGHT DUB-CON, harsh criticism/insults from Minju
You asked for it.
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"I'll think about it."
Four words. Four words that are designed to make it seem that there's still a possibility lingering here, but actually pose a definite answer: no. And you would have believed in a potential answer of yes if it weren't for the curator's amused smile as you exhibit your artworks to her. There's no chance anymore; just by looking at her pink lips, you know what she actually means.
Your whole world falls apart. There's your hope, there's your lifelong dream, all cut into hopeless little fragments on the ground. And all you can think is: why? You've worked so hard for this. You've taken so many classes, so many days of coaching and endless painting. It's a difficult world out there, but you are certain that you deserve better than a " I'll think about it."
You deserve to have your painting in the country's biggest gallery. You deserve the recognition, the praise, everything. But the curator of this museum isn't quite convinced, and although she doesn't say it directly, her bored eyes say it all. To her, you're just another artist with a superiority complex, just another artist she can reject and move on without.
Even her quirked lips tell you that she's unimpressed. Probably even disgusted. How dare a niche artist like you demand to come to her personally and ask to have this... art—(if she can even call it that)—displayed?
Her heels clack on the marble museum floor as she runs her fingers along the frames of your paintings. "Honey," she says, testily, throwing you an amused glance, "this isn't even Picasso level talent. And, in case you don't know, Picasso was a pretty shit artist."
You're taken aback by plenty of factors in that condescending statement, because for one, Picasso was an excellent painter. He's your role model in the world of painting and the medium of art itself. You've visited museums in places you aren't even remotely interested in staying just to see his art in person. Hell, you took classes to be able to replicate his abstract style. How dare this woman speak of him as if he weren't one of the biggest names in art? How dare she? You bet that she probably doesn't know how to name any painting besides Starry Night.
"This one"—and then Minju reaches her bare arm, exposed by the loss of a sleeve attached to her black turtleneck top, to glaze her fingers across one of your pieces—"is probably my least favorite. It's rushed, it's not even colorful enough to attract attention. Not even gray enough to capture a sad mood."
How many pointed bullets has she shot at you this afternoon? You're losing count. "Well," you answer, quite shaken, "I don't believe in colors very much. It's the drawing that should matter. You see—"
"I don't want nor care enough to hear about your nerdy art bullshit."
The umpteenth bullet. It strikes your heart right through the core, and through the flat of your back. You take two steps backward for a reason you aren't sure of. It's a big museum, filled with towering sculptures created by lone artists many decades ago and paintings that take up two blocks, yet what intimidates you more than any of them is this woman:
Kim Minju, curator of the biggest art museum in Korea, and a professional asshole. You had to find that put the hard way the moment you started to crush on her. Who wouldn't? Her features—doe eyes, pointed nose, and thick pink lips—blend in together so perfectly, as if she were another masterpiece in the museum. But looks, you learn, are deceiving. Kim Minju is not as kind as she looks, nor are her words as pretty as her face.
Dress pants sway freely around her slim legs as she walks back to you. Her expressions never vary away from boredom, condescending, and angry. It's like those are the only emotions she is capable of having. She's such a complex person—you understand that although you've only been with her from eight o' clock today to three—but so, unbelievably uninteresting at the same time. You have no idea what to make of her yet, except for the fact that she can be pretty cruel.
Minju approaches you with crossed arms, then pauses when she's just another breath away from you. You try to meet her gaze, but it's too good at holding yours. Besides, the hate you have for the fact that she's taller than you doesn't help either. But you have to hold your ground. If you don't, there will be more pieces to pick up than your broken dreams.
"I'll give it to you straight," says Minju airily, "my museum doesn't have the time for your art."
That's another shot. One more and you're dead. Your cheeks already flush from embarrassment, but she drones on, clearly not caring about what you feel. Not that that's an unusual thing for her.
"I spent all day trying to listen to you talk about your credentials and art whatnot," she continues. "But I'm getting bored, and I don't like your tacky style or you. So I suggest you find another smaller place to start posting your art, like a kindergarten teacher's art class billboard."
You've died at least a hundred times with each word she spits. You're utterly humiliated; you've been through terrors of teachers but you have never received words from them as harsh as Minju's. Every syllable was fashioned to hit just the right spot, because yes, your art's first criticism is its tackiness from when you first started. Yes, it was a risk you took when the first place you decided to hang your art is the biggest museum in the country. But you're not like the other artists. You've improved so much over the years, and your art is nothing less than pleasing to the eyes now that you've found your own style.
You have to admit that they do slightly look out of place with all the other gorgeous paintings, but you can be as good as them. You just need a jumpstart, and you'll get to it. You swear on your own life.
"Miss Kim," you answer, not sure what to say, "I can be as good as Van Gogh, or whoever artist it is that you like. I just need a place to start, and I think your museum is a good place for that."
Minju laughs. "Van Gogh was as shitty as Picasso, dear thing. And your art is not good enough for this museum to be good. So please, take my advice and start at the nearest preschool. I'll hear from you when you've finally gotten into second grade."
Dear thing? Dear thing?! Oh, now she's royally pissed you off. Now, it's your turn to be cocky. Kim Minju is about to find out that two can play at this game.
"For your information, Minju," you reply, now with more confidence, "I'm not your dear thing. And I'm the best artist of my generation right now. You're going to be so sorry if you don't accept my art right now."
Minju nods condescendingly, as if she were listening to a small child rambling about dinosaurs. There's a laugh on her face, which makes you even more infuriated because she is just not getting the point. If she does, she doesn't believe in it. Oh, not in the slightest.
"'Best artist'? Let's not get ahead of ourselves right now. Your style is not unique. The topics you draw are not game-changing. Not even close."
"You just don't have the eyes for it," say you with gritting teeth. You hate how your lips are quivering. "You're, you're not even an artist yourself. You're just a curator."
"And a good one at that." She's just as assured in her own abilities as you are. Minju is unfazed by your amateur insults. She could hear better from a sixth grader. "You can drone on all you want, honey, but that won't change the fact that I'm not interested in taking you in. You can go or kill yourself in front of me. Either way, I won't care."
That's your breaking point. Your hands start to form trembling fists. You can't cope with all this right now, or with Minju. She's just another self-absorbed curator. What does she know about art?
But you've relied your dreams on her. If she doesn't give in, you're nothing. You'll never have a chance to make it big. Nobody cares about art nowadays, except for the classicals, making it even harder to make a name for yourself. You want to become so big in the world of craft that you're credited as inspirations centuries from now. You want to be the best that no one ever was. If Minju doesn't like you or what you make, you don't have a chance.
Gone is your oversaturated arrogance. Gone is the front you were trying to put up before Minju. Most importantly, your dreams are gone, snapped into pieces just like that by words. You're more than hurt; you're devastated. If you can't be a renowned artist—the only steady dream you've had your whole life—what are all your efforts worth now? They will remain fruitless if you don't put one foot forward.
Minju is your wall blocking the path to fame and recognition. A goddamned gorgeous wall who won't falter nor break for anyone, especially not you. No punch can break her foundation. No word from you can make her bricks detoriate.
Try to hold it back, but the tears are forming in your eyes. You're a mess, you truly are. You've been a fool for your dream, and you are just realizing now at the present that it was all for nothing.
"Please," you whisper. Break the staring contest with Minju and look at your shoes instead. Look at the marble floor no one would cross to see your works. Look at the ground where the pieces of your hopes and desires have broken.
"Please what?" Minju is clearly enjoying this. Her crossed arms quiver as she tries to hold back a laugh. Oh, she loves seeing pathetic men admit that they're nothing. It's what she feeds on. She can put their tears in a bowl and put cereal in it for breakfast.
"I'll—I'll do anything. Is that enough? I'll do anything for you to accept my works."
There's the smallest hope in you as you see that Minju is considering this. For a woman like her,and a man like you, she can make you do anything. She can make you mop the floors of the museum and yell "hakuna matata" on its roof and know that you would do all that just for her acceptance. That's what makes it so, utterly satisfying.
"That depends, to be honest," she says slowly.
Minju leans down a little and places a finger under your chin. Her nails are sharp, and they scratch your skin as she tilts your face upwards. Her smile is teasing; you hate that you like it so much. You hate that despite her clear description of how much she dislikes you as a person and you as an artist, your magnetic attraction to her remains.
"Just how much are you willing to give, boy toy, for a dream that big?"
She's degrading you again. It's strange how much it makes your skin tingle.
"Like I said," you sniffle, "anything. I'll give anything."
"Oh, you'll sooo regret saying that."
With a woman of her caliber? Of course you will. But you're a desperate person. It's your sheer need and your willingness to do whatever it takes to get it that get you to places. It's both an advantage and a disadvantage, a pro and con, light and dark. Chiaroscuro, if you will.
"W-what do I have to do?" you ask shakily.
"Simple." And she says this without any shame or sign of shame: "Call me mommy."
It takes a moment for you to register, and Minju uses your confusion as the perfect time to pin you to the wall, like you are a masterpiece, too. Not that she sees you in that light; you are too weak to be one. Too easy to be played with.
Minju is kissing your neck. Lipstick leaves fresh marks on your skin. And when she bites... oh, your knees do more than buckle. You almost collapse to the floor. Thank God (or not) for Minju's hands popping your shirt buttons; they keep you standing. They keep you knowing that all this is real.
She kisses you again, crudely. "What did I say?"
"Call you mommy..."
"Say it then."
She swiftly pulls off her black top, and in the bat of an eyelash, tangles your wrists in between its fabric behind your back. All the while, her kisses rampage your skin. She can't get enough of your pathetic submissiveness. She plays with you as if you were a toy, her toy.
Her mouth traces your torso like a pencil. Her teeth come out to play at times, specifically to see the alarm in your eyes. But nothing prepared you for her lips right above your jeans, or her daring eyes looking up at you and shooting glares into your soul.
"Say it."
"Mommy..."
That's the ticket. The zipper and button are undone by Minju's eager fingers. Your cock is easily fished out and taken into her mouth as if it were nothing. Your body tenses as your mouth falls open.
Although she is the one on her knees, Minju shows that it doesn't change that she's still in control. Her technique and pacing alternates between harsh, rough suckling to a snail's pace of blowing.She sucks you off not for your own pleasure, but for hers. Clearly, that is what she has put first most in this world.
"Fuck!" you can't help but cry out.
Minju spits on your cock and squeezes it tightly. Your hips jerk forward at the tightness and pain. "You're not allowed to talk unless I say so," she says firmly. She's serious about this, too; her eyes show clear and unbridled anger. "Is that clear?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, hnghh!" Your moan echoes in the wide museum. Her lips have rounded your head again and provide great suction. "Y-yes, mommy!"
Satisfied, Minju continues to suck you off. She's unlike any other girl you've had sex with. The others put on innocent faces to entice you whilst their lips worked on your cock, and picked up the pace if you pleased. They let out the prettiest of tears as they called you daddy, whimpered out the sexual title in the midst of the shoves of your cock down their throats.
But Minju... she's a woman with the unhinged desire to belittle you. Even in sex, she remains taunting—the licks at the sides of your dick and in the tiny slit you have are only done to make her laugh at your shivers. It's pleasurable, yes, but degrading, too. Degrading in the sense that she's simply doing it to see you break yourself into something more pathetic, into the writhing, needy mommy's boy that you aren't.
Or... ?
"This dick is so fucking small." Minju spits on the shaft with disgust. "I bet you can't even fuck me properly, not even if I guide you along."
"I—I can," you say, defensively. Minju's saliva coats your cock with more liquid than the continuous stream of pre-cum, which she licks off, of course.
Minju rises to her feet. It is only then that you admire her body. You would say that her face is the real deal, and it is, but you're still rendered shocked by her form. Her breasts are not the biggest, but they're still pretty eye candies. Their nipples are tiny pink things atop small handfuls of flesh. Her hips are what tempt you the most; they're so fucking wide, bringing more shape to her slim stomach.
"Show me," she says. She smiles again, marking a new challenge. "Put that cock inside me or you'll never make yourself recognized. I can fucking crush your dream with a snap of my fingers, baby, so I suggest you move fast."
You can't do anything. Besides the fear of never making it in the real world or as an artist bubbling inside of you, she's so tempting. Even with her all-black outfit: black heels, black sleeveless top, black dress pants, a style you are not fond of almost as much as you aren't fond of pineapple pizza, she attracts you. It's like there's invisible magnets taped to her skin that pulls your fingers to her hips, pulls down the long pants, and grabs her close.
Like magnets, you rub together. Your cock lodges in the hole between her legs. It's met with an immediate contraction, but Minju shows little appreciation on her face. Yes, her jaw drops and her eyes are suddenly round and wide, but she doesn't care to tell you how good it is. Your quick thrusts outnumber the fucks Minju gives about catering to your wants.
"Yes... fuck, yes, fuck that cock into me." Minju humps your entering and exiting shaft determinedly. "Suck on my tits, toy. Suck them until they're red and sore."
That's not something you're adamant to disobey. Like her lips lubricating the shape of your cock earlier, your mouth finds her nipples and captures it. You do as she says, sucking it cleanly and hardly. It feels amazing in your mouth. You knew it would even before it slipped in between your lips. Minju lets out sighs of gratification. That was the only thing it took for her to be louder. She would have to turn up the volume, though; the slaps of your cock into her cavern are starting to boom.
While her breasts are a beauty of their own degree, Minju's cunt is just perfect. It's wet, grasping onto your cock and covering it with a sheen of juices, just like she coated it with saliva during her blowjob earlier. Her mouth was considerably warmer though. But you aren't one to complain when you're clearly the toy in this situation.
Besides, the texture of her walls is a welcome addition to the stimulus on your shaft. Your cockhead repeatedly dips onto the patches of sensitivity, provoking a surefire reaction of the tender walls closing around it tighter. Jerk your hips forward; if you were only more powerful, you could reach her cervix and make it a finishing line. But no, your focus is on sucking the life out of Minju's boobs, just like she commanded.
Minju whispers soft curses under her breath. Arms wound around your neck, she silently tells you to go deeper. No, it's not just a matter of telling; it's a command, as brazen and firm as her earlier order to tell you to suck her tits. She expects you to comply, and if she is disappointed by you not doing so, she'll discard of you. Simple as that.
Release her nipple from your lips and prove that you're worthy. Prove it with more powerful thrusts of your hips into her tiny hips. You string together every might in your body, although most of it is being drained by Minju's humps on your shaft, into pushing your cock deeper. Minju cries out in pleasure. Continue the cycle and never break it. Eyes closed, head tilted to the sky, and arms almost choking your neck, you know you've proven your value to her. All you have to do now is to maintain that.
"Fuck, that's right!" Minju yells out. Even she can't handle your pounds. You're knocking he rinto oblivion. "Fuck mommy's cunt like that, slut! Fucking stretch her out!"
You're already stretching her out enough. It's hard to see since Minju is so adamant on fucking herself on you, but your girth is practically spreading her pussy lips apart. Wonder if she'll become tighter if you fill her up to the base of your cock.
Test it out. Cock stiff and a compelled mind in action, you shove yourself as hard and deep as you can.
"Oh fuck!" Minju's fully penetrated by you now. Your cockhead nudges the end of her tunnel and slams into it repeatedly. Minju's high on the pleasure. She's fucking herself onto you as if she were possessed by a succubus. She's sex-crazed, she's rabid, she's a feral fucking vixen who won't play around when it comes to what pleases her. And right now, what's giving her so much bliss is your dick. She's never letting it go.
But she thinks she wants something else to add to the mix.
"Finger my asshole," Minju says bluntly. Another command. She takes your hand, undoes it from its constraints, and guides it to her round bottom. "Do it."
"B-but..." You're not used to butt stuff, to put it cleanly. You've never touched or inserted yourself in any of your girlfriends' asses. It has always been purely excluded from sessions like these. "I'm, I'm not—"
Minju leans over conspiratorially and rasps in your ear: "Now."
Can you still continue proving yourself worthy? Even if you can't, you have no choice. Your chance at making it big is in Minju's hands. Besides, you're pretty curious yourself. Does it feel good there for her, too? How good, exactly?
Pat your finger on the tensing brown circle. Minju's breath hitches in response. Hide your uncertainty by meticulous teasing, rubbing your fingertips around her asshole and only slightly putting some inside. But Minju is becoming impatient. Whimpers still escape her lips, but she makes herself clear with the reverse of her ass into your hand. She knows what you're trying to do, and she's not letting you get away with it.
Hold your breath and plug one finger inside her. Turns out that's all you needed to do for Minju to put her all into hugging you with her walls, for her neck and head to throw back, for her to cry out a scream that sounds a little fox-like due to its pitch.
"Mommy's cumming, mommy's cumming, ffffuhh—! "
Her voice cracks. It's that momentary weakness that compels you to burst inside her like a popped balloon, except that instead of helium, you release hot strings of wet white cum. You don't have the mind nor the care for a few seconds to worry about impregnating her. The grasp of her walls and the push of her manicured nails into your skin are too mighty in turning your attention away from that.
However, to Minju, it doesn't matter if your cock is thick and big. She's paralyzed in shock. She can't believe you had the audacity to cum inside her.
"Fuck! What the fucking fuck did you do?" Her hands free themselves of their frozen to push you away roughly.
You only come to your senses after she slaps you. "I'm sorry, Minju," you say guiltily. Had you really lost all self-control after months without sex? Sex education literally revolves around protection! "Are you at least on the pill...?"
"Of course I am!"
The tension releases itself from your shoulders. At least God still has your back. "It isn't a problem then," you say. "We can—"
Minju pushes you again. This time, your back knocks hard into the wall. She grasps you by the neck tightly. There's true anger in her eyes now. None of it is an arrogant ploy anymore.
"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks, then rolls her eyes. "Oh, why did I even bother asking? Of course you are."
Ouch.
"The thing here, boy toy, is I don't want your cum in me! Clean me up!"
"D-do I get a tissue or...?"
"No. Lick it out of me."
You're stunned. What? Shake your head, bewildered. "No, I'm not gonna lick my cum out of your cunt, Minju!" you yell.
Her fingers grab your hair and pull it downwards. You fall to the floor in a heap. But you should get used to it. With the way she treats you like you're dust beneath her feet, you've always belonged here. It's only literal now.
You take a glance at her creampied pussy and cringe. It looks gorgeous; it's dripping out of her like a river. But now that you have to lick your own cum out of her, like you're some obedient little slave who can do nothing but obey and obey, it doesn't look so enticing at all.
Minju fires you another glare. It's a warning of the worse that's yet to come if you don't clean her up.
Oh, the things you do for your dreams. The things you do for money; for fame; for the tiniest bit of recognition...
How did you get to this point?
Fine, you'll lick.
At first, it's humiliating. Your ears burn red as Minju parts her legs and sits on your mouth, using you as a sex toy and chair. It's hard to support her weight on your face, even if she is light. It's easy to slip your tongue inside her though. You know it feels good when she moans softly.
"Come on," she pushes you on. Demanding, that's what Minju is. You wonder how she even became a curator with that kind of attitude. She slides herself up and down your tongue, which doesn't become flaccid in its licks due to the uncomfortableness of it all. "Clean mommy up. We still have a lot of things to do."
You take some of your cum from her creamed hole and drag your tip tantalizingly to her clit. Minju whimpers. Repeat the process for a few more seconds. You enjoy the shivers she does, and how tight she is around you. They make the experience much more bearable.
You haven't appreciated her thighs enough. She may be slim, but they are thick enough to choke the breath out of you. They encase the sides of your face tightly as she guides your tongue hotly. Her eyelids are fluttered lower than usual. Her breaths become more labored after the ones before them exit.
Glad that your hands have been freed from much earlier, you try to make this fun for you, too. Grab those honey thighs and push her down onto your mouth. Her gasp is satisfying. Her eyes flutter wide. They're all fun to watch: the shiver of her tight form, the expressions she makes, but pulling her down was a big mistake. Now you can't breathe at all. Your nose is nestled into her clit.
The muffled breaths you take end up pleasuring her cunt instead, much to your dismay. Minju doesn't mind; they make her more soaked than before. She sways her hips to and fro to get the feel of your nose swiping on her clitoris and your tongue entering and exiting her. The tip of your tongue excites her senses in the best way possible. She can't get enough of it. Hands on her nipples, she bounces herself on your pink appendage, overall satisfied with the work you've been doing.
"Such a good boy now," she remarks with a playful caress of your hair. "See how pathetic boys like you always end up in this position? Lick me faster."
The insults graze your pride because you know they are true. You became a whore for Minju. Her little boy toy. Weren't you just boasting about your own achievements a while ago? If so, why are you on your knees now? It's humiliating.
Close your eyes to stop the tears of embarrassment from flowing. The last of your dignity is gone. You can't give Minju the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
You increase the speed. Thrust your tongue inside her faster. Wiggle it around to hit the right spots. You discover that it isn't a matter of cleaning your cum up from inside her anymore. That was all a scam to get you to orally pleasure her. It shows in the way Minju refuses to let your tongue leave her hole, even to collect your semen. She's humping it too quickly for there to even be a chance of exiting her warm little hole. But it's too late to confront her about it now. You just have to wait until she climaxes again.
You have to admit: you do taste quite delicious. Turns out the girls whose mouths you pounded weren't pretending when they sucked off the semen from your tip. Your cheeks redden with the humiliation at that knowledge. However, there's a con in being aware of that. For example, it isn't so difficult anymore to lap at Minju's pussy. You willingly circle and dance your tongue inside her. It's fun to see her pleasured reactions.
When the opportunity presents itself, you pull your tongue out. Minju winces, but before she can voice out any frustration or order, you start to lick her labia back and forth. Her wide, shapely hips stutter. You have to take them in your hands and steady her to continue.
"Oh—mmmm! Fuck, such a good boy for mommy, eating her out so well!"
You would have been surprised at the compliment, but her silky voice never reaches your ears. Her thighs are compressing them too tightly for anything to be heard but wordless screams.
Her most erogenous part is her clitoris, clearly. She demandingly pushes that part of her center on your tongue. Twirl it at your tip, play with it, suckle it. Nibble at it to keep her on her toes. Show her how much you've tamed the brat in you, because once she did, it was apparent that there was no going back.
"Yes, that feels so good!" she cries. Her movements become more frantic and less graceful. It's like you're being waterboarded by a tsunami; she's a force of her own, a danger with the cleanest edge. "I'm gonna cum, baby boy! Mommy's gonna cum, she's gonna fucking cum all over your face---!"
When she does, it's like a sobering splash. Her screams symbolize the thunder, and the juices that squirt on your nose and mouth is the flood. There are no lifeboats anywhere to save you. Nor are there people that are going to. You just have to withstand the rain for a few more seconds
Close your eyes and wait for the storm to end. It takes a while to cease. You try to help yourself out by sticking out your tongue and catching her steady spray into your mouth, but you just choke on it. Minju finds her girl cum spilling down the sides of your lips and swirling in your throat amusing.
Through all that, her taste remains impeccable.
The stream stops. Minju's thighs are shaking. She slowly edges herself off your messy face. Her breasts heave with every heavy breath she takes. They're hypnotizing, but you file your eyes away from them. You have to remember that they belong to the cruel woman who told you to do away with yourself. This is still the same woman who used you. It doesn't matter if the only things you are appreciating in the moment are hr breasts; they still belong to her. She degraded and humiliated you in ways you never would have imagined.
Nudity is another form of art widely appreciated, for both aesthetic and gratification purposes. It returned and became popularized during the Renaissance and the Impressionism. Science was used to figure out how to create the right proportions for whoever is being sculpted, painted, or drawn. Mathematics was heavily involved, too. The golden ratio was used to present the figures in an ideal manner, whether the figures were of gods or historical icons.
You are glad it became popular through the years. You are glad at how normalized it has become for Minju's body looks exactly like another stunning sculpture. She may not have the golden ratio, but she has something even better than that. She's naturally curvy, naturally beautiful. Back in the day, they would have written sonnets about her.
She may be cruel, but she is quite stunning.
"We're not done yet."
The curator puts a stop to your daydreaming. Raised brows, fine creased lines on her forehead that scold you, Minju is flattered that you think this is over yet. It's quite entertaining to her, actually. You don't really think she's gonna give in after just a few sessions of fucking, do you?
Pocket your sore pride and face the challenge head-on. "What else is there to do?"
Her smile is haunting. "You're gonna find out soon. You might even like it."
-
The museum is closed today. There's a big sign outside with "CLOSED" plastered across the letters spelling "Now Open!". Minju had to shut its doors for the day due to your endless requests for a chance to have your works exhibited. Oh, if you knew what you had to do to get her to agree, you wouldn't believe it. You'd call it bullshit.
You and Minju clean yourselves up. There's no point in reusing her turtleneck; it's blotted with her squirt. And you have no business going out with a face drenched with the same liquid. So, while Minju gets into a change of clothes, you go to the bathroom and splash cold water into your face. You don't want to look in the mirror. You don't want to see the slut the man it reflects has become, because, if you were able to admit it to yourself, you'd say that you liked the way Minju treats you. You like the power she has over you that she achieved through such a short period of time.
But you can't say that. You refuse to.
Apparently, you were in the bathroom for too long. Minju's fist knocks three short sounds onto the door.
"You can't hide there all afternoon, babycakes!" she reminds you sweetly. She fires another five knocks. "Come out, come out!"
Roll your eyes with a tired huff. You weren't exactly planning to, but hey, that could work. She can't do anything about it but look stupid pounding onto the door like a maniac.
You get out. You find Minju dressed in a gray, sleeveless top with a jacket matching its color. She has undone her black hair and let it fall to her shoulders.
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She gives you a wide, scheming smile. "Let's go?"
Minju does not wait for a reply. She simply takes hold of your wrist and pulls you through the swindling doors, colorful galleries, and parked cars. She leads you to her own vehicle. It's a modest black car that's been around for ages, but still works as if it were new. You can tell from the light rust on the knobs.
"Get in," Minju says. She already peeks at you from the rolled-down window. Gesturing to the empty passenger seat beside her with a tilt of her head, her brows rise and stay at their impatient height until you get into the car.
You only learn later that it's more than mandatory to have a seatbelt on when Minju is your driver.
There's that red light she easily breezes through. And another. Your eyes are wide. "What the fuck, Minju?" you yell. Your hands frantically fly to your seatbelt and fasten its buckle into place. Not without flying around, of course.
"What?" she asks, really not knowing what's wrong. "You need a water or something?"
Anddd a near miss with a bus. The honk of the horn is deafening. "Do you even have a license?"
"Ha, nope. This car isn't mine. It's my—hey, fuck you, too, you old shit!" Minju gives an angry driver who nearly collided with her sideview mirror the middle finger. When she turns back to you, she grins calmly. "Anyway, it was my brother's. He taught me to drive when I was eleven."
"Well, that explains it," you mutter to yourself sarcastically. And you'd think that since she learned from an early age, she'd drive better than most. That's her second deception of the day, and the twenty-third broken law.
The car swerves and spins into curved roads as if it were dancing. You're constantly on the edge of your seat. Minju, however, is unbothered. This isn't an out-of-place habit for her, breaking at least thirty traffic laws the moment the wheels of her car start rolling. Nor is it for the traffic guards in the middle of the roads, it seems. They yell at Minju with a a warning, but disregard it after a few seconds. How many almost-crashes did it take for them to realize there's no dealing with her?
You almost break into song of religious praise when Minju finally parks near her house. But it's too early to celebrate. God has fashioned this day unpredictably.
Her home is as large as a mansion. It's not exactly a mansion, of course, but the combination of paint and placing is satisfactory enough to pass as a modern house. It stands out in the suburban division like a sore thumb, if a sore thumb were fancier.
She throws open the door. The interior of her home is just as impressive as the exterior. Posters and drawings decorate the walls. The space in each room is wider than the first floor of your own home. You'd give in to jealousy if you weren't more surprised at the thing Minju is brandishing.
"Surprise, surprise," she says. She sticks it in your face for you to see it better, but it's too close for you to even understand what it is. It is only when she moves it back does it finally sink in.
A foretelling personification, really. It's a strap-on. Or is it a dildo? Oh, it's whatever you call a pink plastic shaped like dick. But your difficulty in naming what it is isn't the biggest problem you'll encounter this day. Oh, you have bigger fish to fry soon.
"What the fuck, Minju?" you ask in disbelief. Shake your head again and again, still not coming to terms with what she plans to do. "I'm not gay! I'm not getting fucked in the ass by—"
"I never said you were gay," Minju points out. She's good at that, finding Freudian slips in the middle of your sentences to turn against you."I just wanted to try fucking a guy's ass, that's all. And since I have you... I thought that today is the day."
"Minju!"
"Babycakes!" she says, with a grin that's a distorted mirroring of your worried frown. She grasps your chin and kisses you on the lips. "It'll be fine, I promise. You have nothing to worry about."
She really needs to stop calling you babycakes. It's annoying you already. But more than that, you don't trust her words. What if she's just using you again? What if she's lying to you, like she did when she said that she would think about taking your pieces in? When she's done, she'll surely throw you away like a trash bag, as if you were never really there, and replace you with a new and prettier one to dump everything she wants in.
But you find yourself walking to her bedroom. Slipping your jeans down. Putting them on the floor as Minju fastens the strap to her hips. Lying down on the bed and just waiting for it.
Wait, why the fuck is your dick hard?
There's a cold feeling on your asshole for a while. It's because of the lube Minju's lathering onto it, "for safety purposes," she says. "Damn, I'm pretty big! D'you think it'll be funny if I actually put a condom on the tip?"
But she doesn't, after an unamused roll of your eyes, and the pink tip penetrates your lubed hole. The intrusion is fought with the receiving hole's tightening. The sensation is weirder than anything you've felt before. Of course, you've never done this before, so you never could imagine what it felt like. But now, you discover that it's a sickly mix of pain and pleasure.
"Fuck, Min—"
"That's not the right word, honey," Minju corrects you. The drags of her cock in and out are slow. "Tonight, I'm not Kim Minju. I'm your daddy."
"Mmph! Please, Min— daddy," you whimper out. The word feels right when it slips past your mouth. "Daddy." Daddy, daddy, daddy. You're usually on the receiving side when your previous girls uttered it, but maybe it's actually fun to say it, too.
Minju's cock prods at your ass. It slips further inside as she giggles musically. "That's right. Open up for daddy, sweetheart~"
Even if, let's say, you refuse to, there's no other choice you can run to. You're on the bed, naked, with a woman whose hips wield a fastened dick. You can't escape.
Minju's strokes are almost loving. It's slow, sensual, and timed. She must have taken sympathy on you, for what might be the first time. Of course, her hand wraps around your own dick to provide an "everyday" stimulus, too. That, you enjoy, better than the pegging. You jerk into her hand with a clear need never spoken through words, but a series of helpless mewls.
"What a twitchy little cock," laughs Minju. She wraps her hand around it like a ribbon, and fastens it with quick, bold strokes. They're bolder than any step or curve you've drawn, any controversial piece you've made. "Your cock really likes daddy's dick, doesn't it? And her warm hand?"
You're leaning towards the latter as of now, but you nod anyway. What else can you do? Your virgin asshole can't do anything about it, your leaking cock can't do anything about it. Hell, your tears can't, either. But there's a secret joy formed inside of you at being under Minju's control, with nowhere to run or hide. It's sick, you know that, but you can't help what you feel.
Maybe you like being used and pegged by this harsh curator. Maybe you like her evil words, her tempting body, and her attitude that would make any grandmother die on the spot. Maybe you like the way she treats you like you're a particularly crude inconvenience in her way.
You're shaken by that realization. But what shocks you more is her hand slapping your ass cheeks hardly. You cry out, but the sound is quickly silenced by Minju's free fingers in your mouth.
"Shhh, quiet, baby," Minju coos softly. She leans over to kiss your back and neck. "I want to hear your cute cheeks slap together."
It's a sentence that can easily be used for comedic relief in a fucked-up sitcom. But to you, it's nothing but sexy. The way the words drip from her kissing lips just add to the hotness of her hand giving your ass a firm spank. Your bottom cringes, causing your legs to go weak. You've sunken onto the bed helplessly. At least it's a comfortable place to lie into. The bedsheets must be expensive. They have no other reason to be this silky and soft. Just how much is a curator paid? You might want to consider that career rather than go for being an artist.
Due to your fall, Minju takes your ass in a pronebone position. Sometimes, she isn't satisfied with your butt hole's gape, so she pries it apart with her own fingers. You squeal into the pillows. Pray the neighbors don't hear your scream when Minju takes matters into her own hands and slips a finger beside her strap.
Her strokes gain more strength as the present becomes soon. It's a sensation that you have no idea how to choose between liking and hating it. Your prostrate is constantly stimulated, and the brown walls of your butt are rubbed against, but there's the newness of it all. You aren't used to this. Part of you outright refuses to do it again, but the curious side of you is more than interested for another round. Maybe one or two more? You really wouldn't mind.
"P-please, please, daddy."
You start to beg of your own accord. Lewdly. Needily. You're starting to like this too much. With Minju corrupting your ass and her hand jerking you off, you accept your fate. Paintings don't matter anymore, just as long as it's Minju's cock lodged inside you.
709 notes · View notes
pyeonghongrie · 9 months
Text
High Infidelity
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Summary: The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?
Characters/Pairing(s): Artist!Aged-Up!Hongjoong x Writer!Aged-Up!Fem!Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff
AUs/Trope info: Non-Idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person Too Late
Word Count: 3247
Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, afab!reader
Rating: 18+
A/N: I'll be using the name "Haru" for Y/N's Husband because my friends don't want me to write a different ATEEZ member getting cheated on, so my friend @/stardragongalaxy volunteered as tribute 😂
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"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-
"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.
You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each individual pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.
Unfortunately, life said "Fuck you."
With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your Husband returned to working as if he didn't just cause you a grave inconvenience.
Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides towards your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes were left in the sink.
And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? he has to be kidding me, men.
You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making yourself more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to at least calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.
I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following, he's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?
You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you but bacon bits on mac & cheese.
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Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was definitely the correct move.
Kim Hongjoong is a passionate man, you can see the dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others are sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, others are more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.
One thing about Hongjoong's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.
Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece,
Simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throws of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.
As a romance writer, this is exactly what you needed.
You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.
You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.
You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'9", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has peculiar split-dyed hair, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.
"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.
"I'm Hongjoong, by the way, Kim Hongjoong. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.
"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Hongjoong. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,
He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection to begin with."
You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.
"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, " Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your own work?"
He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you never looked at a man like this in your life, you were absolutely down bad for his teeth.
"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "although, I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.
You ponder on this for a bit, going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?
"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."
A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”
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The mug in your hands was warming your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you, he talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in it’s purest form.
“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic, then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely in romantics, I assume.” He said calmly, a small giggle ending his tangent.
“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea, your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this, Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.
Looking back up at Hongjoong, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”
That. That was a quality of him that you noticed fairly early on, you can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.
But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.
“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes, he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks later in the day.
But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.
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A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”
Hongjoong giggles at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a dick! Your work is amazing, If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, give you inspiration.” tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu Joongie bug~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side, you’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.
“Joongie bug? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.
This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.
“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.
“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work, we can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
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Arriving at Hongjoong’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment, everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues made the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Joongie, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.
“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He gleefully talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.
“Oh, just water, please.” You say, you have a feeling that you needed to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.
He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table, It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.
“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.
Bro’s so majestic.
“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-” 
“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Hongjoong Interrupts you,
“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods of time and-”
Hongjoong interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”
The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Hongjoong looks at you, It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wants you, but he never acts in any way that is appropriate, he never makes you uncomfortable.
This was no exception, the swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.
“No, no he doesn’t.”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
This, being half-naked on Hongjoong’s bed, who, need I remind you, was not your husband.
His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck, You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.
“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off of the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.
“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.
Hongjoong gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.
“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before, it fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice.
You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Hongjoong.” 
And he did.
His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close, You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Hongjoong’s tongue was exploring it.
At that moment, you knew you were gone.
Hongjoong pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke, at that moment, Hongjoong was stuck in a  trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over, like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried.
Out of breath, he grabs a hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him, he reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it, he cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.
Placing both of our hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze, Hongjoong notices this and giggles, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp left you as you started to grind harder against Hongjoong.
His nails started to dig into your hips, his hip desperately grinding up against you for more friction, soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.
“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.
“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this,
“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever, taking one of your hands and placing a kiss to your palm. 
He lifts his hips up only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying it off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you leaned down to kiss him again.
When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two, you took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.
Hongjoong hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.
“God, Hongjoong, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips p to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking down on the thick girth, you throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.
“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans out, he’s definitely not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”
You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.
“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go, I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately, you’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.
Hongjoong abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin, You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.
You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin, your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.
Hongjoong isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too, he’s too close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.
“Hongjoong I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time, you swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.
“Did you really mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.
“Exactly, I meant it word for word, Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.
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In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger his his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Hongjoong.
In the end, he didn't have to know about your High Infidelity.
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Tags: @kwanisms, @yoonguurt, @lemonhongjoong, @shinestarhwaa, @stardragongalaxy, @wooyoungmybelovedhusband, @anyamaris, @dimpledsatan, @haosweater, @starlitmark, @seongwin, @midnxght-sky, @nebulousbookshelf, @piratequeen-queenofgames, @northerngalxy, @yourfatherlucifer, @twisted-tales-of-all, @seumiley, @hwasangelbaby
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dandylovesturtles · 1 year
Note
For the emoji ask:
⛔️, ❌️ and 🧠 (Donnie)
⛔ tons, but for ROTTMNT the only one I think is the lair games fic I've talked about on here before. tldr: Donnie and Leo's sibling rivalry boils over, they get mad, they fight, they make up, everything is happy again.
I'll stick what I did write of it under the read more after I answer the other questions.
❌ setting aside the obvious dead dove sorta stuff, I'm at a point where I don't really like writing Major Character Death as the main point of the story (as an incidental plot point is a little different). I'm also not really interested in hurt/no comfort, there's gotta be at least SOMETHING there lol.
I'm also not really interested in "everyone has a normal life" type AUs (like coffee shop or high school)
I'm sure there are more I just can't think of right now lol
🧠 (Donnie) I love the headcanon that when Donnie merged with the technodrome he fell a little in love with it. The implications of that are just *chef's kiss*
Donnie feeling so bad because that thing was used to end the world! But he's also never felt so fully and wholly understood. So accepted. So loved.
He feels the scars on his shell and he wishes he was still connected.
Anyway fic stuff (for the first question) under the cut:
“Welcome, one and all, to the Seventh Annual Lair Games! As is tradition, the first place winner of last year’s competition will now give a rousing speech!”
“Boooo!” Leo jeered as Donnie stepped up beside Splinter, his first place medal swinging around his neck. “Boooo!”
“Silence from the peanut gallery!” Donnie demanded, glaring at him, and Leo smirked back. It was what he deserved for being a sore winner - all he’d done for the last week was recount his victory from the last year, to the point that even Mikey was getting annoyed with him.
(When Leo had said as much, Raph just replied that he was a sore winner too. To which, of course, he said pish posh.)
“Ahem,” Donnie continued, folding his hands behind his back. “Gentlemen, as winner of last year’s Lair Games, I want to start this speech by offering some uplifting words. I want this to be a fun day for all of us, and so I hope you play fair, leave it all out on the field, and prepare to eat nitrogen oxides BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL GETTING SMOKED AGAIN!”
“Oh brother,” Leo heard Mikey mutter under his breath, and he chuckled.
“Now as for the prize, I think I have come up with something that will pique your interest-”
“I’m not switching rooms with you,” Leo called.
“-something that is not my room, random audience member. No, I have something better.” He theatrically cleared his throat again. “The three losing brothers will have to do whatever the winning brother says for exactly one week, starting from the moment the competition ends, and the losing brothers can only say nice things about him.”
“Hey, wait, does that mean we can ask you to build anything we want?”
“What-”
Raph gasped, pumping his arm excitedly in his seat. “I can finally get my skate hawks!”
“That’s not-”
“Pizza oven pizza oven pizza oven!” Mikey cheered, throwing his arms up in elation.
“Hey, stop interrupting, this is my speech!” Donnie folded his arms, glaring down at them. “Why are you all assuming I’ll lose, anyway?”
“Uh, no offense, Donnie,” said Raph, “but you always lose.”
��I’m literally standing on the winner’s podium! Right now!” He waved the medal. “Do you not see this!?”
“Eh, last year was a fluke.” Leo waved his hand as though to erase the past. “Great idea with the prize, though; can’t wait until you guys are all calling me “Master Leo”! Ooo, or maybe I should go with “Your Highness”? Oh, or what about, “The Great and Powerful and Handsome Leonardo”?”
“Why don’t you just go ahead and add “humble” to that, too?”
“Great note, Raph. “The Great and Powerful and Handsome and Humble Leonardo”!”
“Oh no! We will be calling you no such thing, because after I win it is I who you will be calling “The Great Genius Donatello”!”
“If I win, you guys can just call me Mikey.”
“Hey guys, a note from your production crew,” April cut in. “Are you going to spend all day on this, because if so I’m gonna break for lunch.”
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misc-obeyme · 2 months
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I'm kinda curious about your MC. Even though I've only seen their physical appearance, I'm curious about their personality, story, and style etc.
Oh hello, anon! I'm always surprised when people wanna know more about my MC (or OCs)! I shouldn't be, I love hearing about other people's, but I dunno that's just how it goes I guess.
Anyway, I have a post about Ciaran here and if you search the #misc mc ciaran tag you'll find a lot about them!
Personality-wise, Ciaran has a lot of energy, is extroverted, and is perpetually curious. They like to meet new people and make new friends. But they do have a temper. They really don't get along with Lucifer at first. Their response is usually to explode a bit and they tend to throw things at people. They often deliberately miss them, but in Lucifer's case they've actually hit him quite a few times. (I wrote a scene about this in which Ciaran does something nice for Lucifer in an attempt to apologize for hitting him in the head with a textbook lol.) Ciaran is a troublemaker and they like to have fun. They'll easily go along with all kinds of crazy brother schemes because it sounds fun or exciting. That being said, Ciaran can also be responsible when needed. He's very good at understanding other people and makes a decent demon therapist despite himself.
His story varies depending on the love interest and whether or not it's one of my many aus lol.
The beginning part is usually the same because no matter who Ciaran ends up with, they left the same life behind. They used to live in an apartment with their older sister, who owns her own bakery. But after Ciaran disappeared, their sister couldn't afford to pay the rent on her own and had to move back in with their mother. She goes on a bit of a quest to find Ciaran, eventually figuring out that they're not even in the human world anymore. With the help of a sorcerer and a witch, she finds her way to the Devildom just to complain about losing Ciaran's half of the rent. (Her name is Fiadh and I love her lol.)
There are a lot of characters that I think Ciaran could end up with. In fact, I can see Ciaran ending up with any of them. But I most often think of him with Barbatos, Solomon, or Mammon. And although I hadn't really considered this when I created Arsenios, I do think he and Ciaran are compatible, too.
I have an au where Ciaran is half-fae, I have one that's a classic coffee shop au, I have one where Ciaran is an angel, I have one where they're a sorcerer, etc etc etc~
I like to put them in various scenarios because it's fun!
For style, I'm assuming you mean how they dress? I like to think of Ciaran's clothing style as hipster with a side of punk. Like it's mostly sweaters and corduroy, but also Converse and leather jackets lol. They've been known to glam it up on occasion too and they like to have Asmo do their makeup. They obviously go out of their way to dye their hair blue, too. Their natural hair color is black.
Another thing about Ciaran that I think is important is that they're an artist. They used to work in an art gallery, but they're also a painter. They carry around a portable watercolor set, but they also paint on large canvasses in oils. One of the things they do is paint the ceiling in their room at the HoL. They're also very handy - good at fixing things and building things. They can build bookshelves or repair dry wall or do yard work. They're chubby but physically they're pretty strong, too.
Anyway, I could write so much about Ciaran, but these are the basics and I hope it kinda answered your question! Please feel free to send me any more specific questions you like! One day, I'll update Ciaran's profile post... I did Arrie's but I haven't gotten to Ciaran's yet.
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callmeravenking · 2 years
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I'm feeling some feelings abt one of the themes in MAXIDENT, the Stray Kids album coming out next month. So far in every trailer/teaser there has been the through-line of viewership: both viewing and being viewed in turn.
This might be a bit long so I'm gonna put it under a read more.
I feel like a lot of this stems from their lives as idols. I can't imagine what it would be like to have basically no privacy. Anything you do at any moment could be posted for the world to see and judge. I feel like it would be incredibly draining to live like that: constantly aware that you're at the whims of the court of public opinion. As they well know, thanks to Hyunjin's "scandal," at any point their audience could just toss them away for any reason without giving them a chance to explain their side.
I'm super interested to see what they have to say abt this whole thing in Maxident!
So it's the most obvious in the recent Unveil Track for Chill, but I'll start with the Maxident Trailer so you can see where I'm going with this.
MAXIDENT
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The most obvious one in this one is the googly eyes that flash rapidly across the screen before Hyunjin takes a bite of the apple and throws it away. I feel like this represents how quickly people look at things and then throw them away when they're not interested anymore or when the first bite doesn't catch their interest, even if there's stuff still left to consume.
Then we have them constantly making eye contact with the camera, which makes the viewer feel like they are the ones being viewed.
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Then we have the freeze frames with them having fun, which I think is talking about how their lives are at the whim of their audience. Sure it looks like they're having fun, but the motivation and movement in those scenes comes from the camera/viewer, not Stray Kids themselves.
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Super Board
There's less obvious evidence for this theme in Super Board, but it's still there.
A big one is the spotlight. Shining on them as they try to just do their thing. This goes along with the theme of being viewed as the spotlight causes them to stop and become aware of being viewed, while the members not in the spotlight hurry to get out of the way of being viewed.
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In this Unveil we also bring in the hand held camera as a viewer. This isn't a new device in Stray Kids music videos, but I think it's an effective one. Here it feels like it's showing how they're complicit in how they're viewed. It echoes things like tiktoks, vlives, SKZ Talker, SKZ Go, Instagram, and Bubble where they are the ones making the content for an audience to view.
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This kind of viewership is different from just a music video or a show, because they don't (necessarily) have a script to follow in these scenarios (note that I didn't include SKZ Code or Finding SKZ in this category). For any behind the scenes or "personal" stuff a layer is peeled away between the viewed and the viewer, and with that the viewed (SKZ) lose a layer of security. Sure there's editing and all that, but you still have to be "on edge" to make sure that nothing you say or do could get you in trouble with your audience.
Chill
The most recent Unveil Track (as of today September 25, 2022) is for Chill, and boy oh boy does it sure keep this theme going.
Firstly, it's set in an art gallery, a place that is literally made for "viewers," which I think is no coincidence.
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It starts with them filming what is obviously a livestream in said art gallery, painting them immediately as something to be viewed.
We then move on to them as patrons of the art gallery, the viewed becoming the viewer (while also still being viewed).
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Which then quickly turns into them as part of the exact same art gallery, becoming "objects" to be viewed by an audience. They passively sit while being viewed, though not without looking directly into the eyes of the viewer, a sort of acknowledgment of their place in this as well as a way to say that they also see the viewer.
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This is shown even more when Hyunjin takes a picture of the viewer while also being in front of that same picture.
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While we are the ones that are most often in the position of "viewer," it doesn't mean that Stray Kids doesn't see us in turn. The viewer becoming the viewed.
Idk I just think it's a neat thing for them to talk about! I'm interested to see if they go into any more depth on this subject in their new songs/mvs.
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jimimn · 3 years
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HHFJSLASI YOU AND I ARE JUST PROFESSIONALS WHEN IT COMES TO RAMBLING AND I LOVE IT I'LL MAKE THIS FIRST ASK SHORT SO THAT YOU CAN ADD THE READ MORE AND PUT THE REST UNDER THE CUT SO THAT YOUR FOLLOWERS DON'T HAVE TO DO A LOT OF SCROLLING LMAO - 💫
your brain i love it 😌😌
MISS SHIVI YOU'RE TOO SWEET 🤧💞 HFAKKA JUNGKOOK MADE THE WORLD STOP WITH THAT HAIR DYE AT THIS POINT I'M JUST ✨ manifesting ✨ a selfie of him with that hair and I know for a fact that the moment that one selfie comes out ITS OVER FOR US and OMG IN A BUN??? JDJAKJD I THINK YOURE SPEAKING THE DEVIL INTO EXISTENCE. BLONDE JIKOOK SELCA LETS GO BOYS COME ON DON'T BE SHY 🧚‍♂️🌸
OOOPS THAT IDOL PERFORMANCE DOES LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE THO...ESP ALL OF THEIR GROWLS..CALM DOWN??? JIMIN?? EXCUSE YOU.
AND JUNGKOOK'S OUTFIT WAS SO HOTJFJSLQJDJWKA. I did watch the performances later and can attest that DYNAMITE SLOW JAM IS NOW MY ANTHEM AND BLONDE JUNGKOOK SINGING IT IS DEFINITELY NOT GOOD FOR MY SANITY
CHANEL MODEL!JIMIN MISS SHIVI I AM THINKING MANY THOUGHTS NOW FOR REAL THO HE SHOULD TOTALLY WEAR MORE CHOKERS AND CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM FINISHING A PERFORMANCE ANF THEN RIPPING IT OFF AND THROWING INTO THE CROWD LIKE JSLWLAKF DEATH UPON US ALL!!! Honestly he can wear anything at this point and ummm 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ BUT FBKSKA I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD BUT I JUST THOUGHT OF JIMIN'S COLLARBONES PEAKING OUT FROM UNDER THE CHOKER AND WE'RE GOING A LITTLE FERAL AGAIN
BODY ROLLS DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED THERE IS NOTHING MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN HIM NOT ONLY BEING SO HOT BUT ALSO USING PERFECT TECHNIQUE!! AND THAT GAZE BYE I'M SHORT CIRCUITING HE CLEARLY KNOWS HIS POWER AND ISN'T AFRAID TO USE IT aND THAT LOOK GAAAAH 5TH MUSTER JIMIN COME HOME PLS THE FOOD IS COLD AND EVERYONE'S ASKING WHERE YOU ARE (me....I'm everyone) NO NOO DON'T BE SORRY I LOVE IT TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR MUSINGS *cups face in hand and leans on table*
AND I AGREE!! TAEHYUNG LOOKING GOOD IN THAT SUIT ONLY SHOWS US THAT THE GODS TOOK THEIR SWEET TIME ON HIM AND LMFAO I MEAN THEY'RE NOT WRONG THO 🤡 IS A PRETTY ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF US and omg you've got a sister!! that's so nice 💓
LITERALLY ON WITH THAT DANCE BREAK IN A CONCERT WITH JIMIN JUMPING OVER JUNGKOOK WHEN I TELL YOU I UGLY CRIED FOR HOURS AFTER SEEING THAT DURING THE MV PREMIERE I DON'T THINK I'LL LIVE KNOWING THEY DID IT IN A CONCERT and ooooooo you should definitely keep hoping!! We got an I need u performance, so anything's possible!! I got into them with bs&t so it makes me very 🤧🤧🤧 in retrospect but nothing about jimin dancing his jacket off was 🤧 it was more of a 🥵😵🥴🤕🤒 type of feeling LMAO
I KNOW RIGHT I LOVE HOW THEY ALWAYS GIVE US LIL UPDATES EVERYWHERE LIKE "OO I WENT CAMPING" "OO WE ATE BREAD!!" "OOO LOOK WE'RE JUST GOING TO DROP COVERS AND SELCAS SO YOU CAN LOSE WHATEVER LITTLE SANITY REMAINED!!" BUT YES TIMES LIKE THAT WHEN HE TWEETS JIMIN IS THE LITERAL EMBODIMENT OF THE BIGGEST HEART EMOJI
AND FJSLADHK I NEVER TOLD YOU LMAO MY BRAIN 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️💆‍♀️ MY BIAS IS JIMIN!! I MEAN BY THE LOOKS OF IT YOURS IS TOO HE MAKES US ALL SO 💕💓💫💓💗💕🌺🌈💘💓✨💗💓🌸💕💝🌈💓💗 ITS A LITTLE EMBARRASSING HOW MUCH HE MAKES ME FEEL LIKE WOW HOW AM I LETTING A MAN WHOM I DON'T EVEN KNOW HAVE SO MUCH CONTROL OF ME. HE'S JUST... EVERYTHING 🥺 I'M IN MY BREAK AND A LITTLE TOO EMO RIGHT NOW!! BUT I GUESS YOUR BIAS IS JIMIN TOO RIGHT? TAKING BY YOUR LOVELY BLOG AND BRUTALLY HONEST (IN THE BEST WAY!) URL LMAO IF NOT THEM I'M SORRY FOR PRESUMING 🙈🙈 but tell me!! how did you get into them??
(god...I'm just looking and I see I wrote too much I'm so sorry fksjwlfo)-💫
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i love seeing your asks in my inbox ok they make me very happy 🤧🤧 BLONDE JIKOOK IN A BUN SELCA I AM MANIFESTING!!!!!!!! BOYS JUST OPEN YOUR GALLERY AND DROP THEM SELCAS I KNOW YOU HAVE A LOT OF THEM PLS SPARE SOME FOR US THANX 😭
JIMIN IN THAT IDOL PERFORMANCE HOLY SHIT YES 😳 LIKE EXCUSE ME WHAT KIND OF DISRESPECT IS THAT 👁👄👁 and then in the same week he became small cuddly jimin with a boopable nose during the home performance 😔
istg jungkook looked like a very hot rich ceo of a huge company or sth 😳😳 (which he actually is sdfghjk atleast partially sdfg)
CHANEL NEEDS TO CALL JIMIN ASAP 🔫🔫🔫 AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING MAKING ME IMAGINE WILD SCENARIOS LIKE THAT 😭 ok imagine him smirking the “i know im hot” smirk after he throws the choker DEATH OK ABSOLUTE DEATHHHHHHHH and omg yes his collarbones along with the choker 😳😳😳😳 (and no its not weird asdfghj chill) 
AND OMG THAT IS THE BIGGEST PROBLEM RIGHTTTTT!!!! THAT PARK JIMIN IS ABSOLUTELY AWARE OF THE POWER HE HOLDS AND HOW HOT HE IS!!!!! AND HE USES IT JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT WHICH IS KNOWS IS ENOUGH FOR US TO GO ABSOLUTELY FERAL and he’s such a fucking tease too dear lord i can’t with him 😭😭😭😭😭 AND OMG “*cups face in hand and leans on table*” STOP BEING SO CUTE OKAY WTF I AM BLUSHING HERE 😭😭😭😭
AND YES 🤡 IS DEFINITELY ALL OF US 🤣 i remember waiting for 12 am kst every freaking day for a week before BE dropped and big hit was like “not today you absolute clowns” on all our faces 🤡 AND YESS AAAAAAAA she’s not my own sister though!! she’s my aunt’s daughter. they’ve come to visit us for a week 🥰🥰
ON DANCE BREAK WITH JIMIN JUMPING OVER JUNGKOOK HOLY FRIKKIN YES BUT HAVEN’T THEY STOPPED DOING THAT JUMP IN THE RECENT PERFORMANCES? im sad :(((( BUT YES THAT IN A CONCERT WITH ARMY CHEERING AND FANCHANTS AND EVERYTHING HOLY SHIT CAN’T IMAGINE THE ENERGY IN THE STADIUM DURING THAT 🤯🤯🤯🤯 ARE YOU KIDDING I GOT INTO THEM WITH BS&T AS WELL. i am never ever ever going to be over that song. and yes jimin’s “accidental” jacket flips in bs&t are the reason is why i live and breathe 😌😌 (and simultaneously die multiple deaths) I AM NOT EVEN MAKING SENSE ANYMORE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AND OMG I KNOW RIGHT WHEN CHRISTMAS LOVE DROPPED WITHOUT A FUCKING CLUE I WENT !@#$%^&*()&^%$#@q@#$%^&*( BECAUSE I HAD JUST WOKEN UP FROM SLEEP AND /?????? NEW SONG FROM JIMIN??????? THAT FELING WAS JUST HHHHHHHHHHHHHH atleast tae gave us a hint BUT I WAS STILL NOT READY WHEN SNOW FLOWER DROPPED. DAMN I HOPE THEY DON’T DO THIS NO WARNING THING WITH KTH1 AND JJK1 BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE FUCKING SLEEPING WHEN THEY DROP ASDFGHJK  AND JIMIN AAAAAAAA JIMIN I MISS HIM SO MUCH CAN HE GO LIVE AGAIN PLS I JUST WANT TO HEAR HIS SOFT VOICE AND SEE HIS EYE SMILE AND FLOOFY HAIR AND TINY HANDS :(((((((
AND OMG YOURS TOO???? 😭😭😭 AND PRESUMPTION WHAT PRESUMPTION OMG OFC MY BIAS IS JIMIN (and six bias wreckers 😌😌) LIKE I HAVE JIMIN IN MY ICON AND IN MY HEADER AND IN MY URL AND I GIF JIMIN MOSTLY SO 😭😭😭 WHAT PRESUMPTION 😭😭😭 and god yes i love every little thing about him 🥺🥺🥺 FROM HIS SOCK DOODLES TO HIM BEING SUPER CLUMSY AND HIS JACKET FLIPS AND HIS SEXY BRAIN AND HIS KIND HEART AND HIM NOT GIVING TWO FUCKS ABOUT GENDER TO HIM GROWLING ON STAGE TO HIS NIPSLIPS I JUST!!!!!LOVE!!!!!!EVERYTHING!!!!! 🤧🤧🤧🤧 AND yes lmao my url ok story time!! so when i made this blog... i didn’t know i’d get into giffing and stuff lol so the friend who got me into bts (i’ll come to that story later) suggested jiminsjacketflip as a url for my blog but i was like nah this doesn’t sound cool so i added a bit of ✨pazzaz✨ and made it flipthatjacketjiminie LMFAOOOOO and ive been wanting to change it for a while now because its so fucking long and my watermark on gifs looks shitty because of that 🤡 but i haven’t found anything as unique as this one yet and i also think that if I change my url people won’t recognize me so im just..... living with this one lmaooooo 🤡
AND OKAY OMG so i got into them at the end of june 2020. My friend anna (who also has a blog and makes a++++ gifs @/lifegoesmon) got me into them. She made me listen to them and the first song i heard was stay gold as far as i remember and then it was BS&T AND GODDAMN THE WAY I GOT FUCKING HOOKED TO THE SONG I KEPT LISTENING TO IT ALLLLLLLL DAYYYYYYY and then she showed me the performance for bs&t and i knew i was a goner 🥴🥴 then I watched chaotic bts compilations and they were so fucking funny and adorable that i went like???? how are they so sexy and intimidating on stage and this adorable and chaotic off stage?😭😭😭 we listened to bts’ discography for like three hours on the first day and she shared her playlist with me and stuff and god I just fell for their music. and then obviously with their dance and then obviously with everything about them 🥺🥺 HOW ABOUT YOUUUUUUUU? WHEN AND HOW DID YOU GET INTO THEM???? (and pls don’t be sorry sdfghjk i love reading your asks 💖💖💖) OH ALSO DID YOU WATCH RUNNNNN???????? WHICH ONES DID YOU WATCH????
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