#Balmain Watches

[helioswatchstore]

Buy Balmain Watches Online only at Helios Watch Store

The Balmain watch collection at Helios Watch Store features an extensive range of meticulously crafted timepieces that exemplify the brand’s dedication to innovation, precision, and style.

[purplecatruins]

I have to say, although I really love the colourful designs from the collab between Olivier Rousteing and artist Prince Gyasi for Balmain menswear 2024, I kinda dig the more subdued (in comparison!) looks from the collection like these draped eye motif (so cool!!) vests/suits/two piece set in white and tan.

Seems to be the exact shade of tan like the wet-look Balmain dress Zendaya also wore for the Dune premiere at the Venice film festival 2021. Because it is a bit big on her, it feels like soft armour...

[daoluxury35]

Patek Philippe watches

China luxury goods wholesaler Website link: www.dao-luxury.com whatsapp:https://wa.me/8617693130858 ✈ Shipping to all countries ⭐Delivery within 8-14 days ⭐Global online logistics services Order by wire transfer. Thank you for your interest in our partnership! We are pleased to be your company's reliable wholesale supplie

[zimson-watches]

Best website for shop watches online in india

Looking for the ideal timepiece to match your style? Look no further than Zimson Watches, the best place to shop watches online. With Zimson Watches, you can discover an exceptional assortment of timepieces that seamlessly combine elegance and functionality. Whether you favor traditional designs, athletic chronographs, or sleek modern models, Zimson has something to suit your taste and occasion. Our carefully curated assortment includes everything from known luxury brands to fashionable, economical selections, ensuring that you'll find the right watch to express your unique personality. With a few clicks, you may browse our broad collection of timepieces, compare styles, and choose the one that calls to you. Shop from the comfort of your own home with the certainty of quality and authenticity.

[stylebook-xoxo]

[pickingupmymercedes]

It was always them - Lewis Hamilton 1/3

An Invisible String Theory Story - It was always them (pt.1). It still is (pt.2). It will always be (pt.3).

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: none, it's pure fluff.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: I need to give all the props to @greedyjudge2 for getting me to finally write this.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The soft hum of the apartment filled the quiet morning. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a warm glow washing over the NYC living room.

Lewis was sprawled on the sofa, a cup of coffee in hand, his eyes glued to his phone, scrolling through his emails.

The soft padding of bare feet interrupted his focus. He looked up to find Y/N, a bouncing figure of energy, emerged from their bedroom. Her hair still damp from a shower as her eyes sparkled with excitement, a stark contrast to the lazy demeanor he expected on a Sunday.

"You have to see this, Lew," Y/N's voice, filled with excitement as she chirped, her voice carrying a playful lilt and, in her arms, she clutched a stack of thick, glossy papers.

"Is this what I think it is?" he replied, a lazy smile spreading across his face. He set down his phone and reached for her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

Y/N wriggled out of his arms and sat down beside him, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "The first draft of my Balmain collection," she said, her voice barely containing her enthusiasm.

Curiosity piqued; Lewis raised an eyebrow as he sat up straighter, "Oh?"

His heart swelled with admiration. He knew how much this meant to her. After five years of revolutionizing sports fashion with Ferrari, she had decided to take on a new challenge. It was a bold move, but watching her grow and evolve in high fashion had been nothing short of inspiring.

"Let's see it then" he said, his voice steady, gesturing for her.

Y/N carefully laid the sketches out on the kitchen island, a pristine expanse of black marble. Lewis got up and enveloped her in his arms as his eyes scanned the sketches.

The designs were definitely a departure from the sports-inspired aesthetic she was so known for, but they still carried her signature flair. The colors were bold, the silhouettes modern, and the overall aesthetic was undeniably Y/N. It was a perfect blend of her signature sporty elegance and the high fashion world she was now navigating.

"I wanted to create something that was both timeless and modern," she explained, her voice soft. "Something empowering"

"These are incredible, Y/N," Lewis nodded, impressed. "You've done that and more," he said sincerely.

A radiant smile spread across her face. "You haven’t even seen them all" she said, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "I was worried it was too much of a departure from my usual style."

"It's not," he assured her. "It's just a different expression of your talent. You've always been able to adapt and evolve."

She nodded, her eyes sparkling. "I know, but I had never strayed that far."

Lewis turned her in his arms and caught her chin so she would look at him "I'm here to support you every step of the way," he said softly. "I know you can do this. You're one of the most talented people I know."

She leaned into his touch, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, Lew. It means the world to me."

He let her go as he reached for the sketches and continued to look through them, he noticed a recurring theme - strong, independent silhouettes but always with a softer note. It was a reflection of Y/N herself.

"You've captured the essence of Balmain perfectly," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "It's bold, but it's still undeniably you."

Y/N beamed. "I wanted to push the boundaries of what Balmain can be," she explained. "To create something that's both classic and contemporary, strong and feminine."

Lewis nodded "You've definitely achieved that." He picked up a sketch of a tailored blazer, the fabric adorned with a subtle Balmain monogram. " It's them but it feels fresh and modern."

Y/N's eyes lit up with gratitude. "I'm glad you like it," she finally said, her voice trembling slightly. "I was kind of nervous about showing you."

"Why would you be nervous?" he asked, taking her hand in his. "I have complete faith in you."

She squeezed his hand. "It's different when it's your own full collection. It's like putting a part of myself out there."

"You're going to kill it," he assured her. "I know it."

He’d always admired her ability to create something out of nothing. From transforming the world of F1 fashion to now, venturing into the realm of high fashion, she was a force to be reckoned with. And yet, despite her accomplishments, she still sought his opinions, her eyes darting to him every few seconds as he went through all the designs.

Y/N explained her inspiration for each piece, the symbolism behind the colors, and the story she wanted to tell. Lewis listened intently, offering his feedback when asked. He was impressed by the level of detail and thought that had gone into every aspect of the collection.

"I love how you’ve sneaked motorsport elements into the designs," he commented, pointing to a dress with intricate leather detailing.

Y/N grinned. "I knew you'd appreciate that," she said. "It's a nod to our roots."

Lewis chuckled. "You're getting too good at this, you know."

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do" she replied, playfully batting his arm.

Just then, as he studied a particular sketch, a memory flickered to life.

He was still a Mercedes driver then, trying to flee from the frenetic energy of the paddock. But amidst the chaos of the circuit, a figure had caught his attention. He saw her standing amidst the chaos, a breath of fresh air in the sea of team uniforms.

She was wearing a tailored pantsuit in a shade of crimson that echoed the Ferrari red, a bold statement in a side of the paddock dominated by neutral tones and controlled imagination.

He'd been drawn to her immediately, a silent acknowledgment of her presence.

He'd asked around, of course. Who was this woman who commanded attention without even trying? The answer both surprising and intriguing: the responsible behind some of the newer Ferrari designs he'd admired from afar. The one he was sure had a new eye behind them.

Y/N's voice pulled him back to New York. “Earth to Lewis?” she teased, waving a hand in front of his face. “You okay there, lover boy?”

He blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “Yeah” he managed, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Just thinking.”

“About what? Questionable fashion choices?” she asked, feigning offense.

He chuckled. “Far from it. I was actually remembering you a few years ago and that crimson pantsuit.���

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Smooth. But I'm glad you remembered. I was hoping you would.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask

[0omillo0]

Model! Han Jisung x Interviewer! Reader

Love at first sight

Han is called by Balmain to attend his fashion show, but he doesn't know that that night his eyes will meet the ones of his soulmate

( 🫧 ) fluff!!

masterlist

The air buzzed with excitement in the heart of Paris as fashion enthusiasts and celebrities gathered outside the grand Palais des Congrès. Laughter and chatter filled the space, and the scent of fresh croissants wafted through the air, mingling with the high-end perfumes of the crowd. The sun cast a warm glow over the gathered throng, illuminating the diverse styles decked out for the Balmain fashion show.

Among the crowd, Han Jisung adjusted his tailored Balmain blazer, its sharp lines accentuating his slender frame. He smiled at the cameras flashing around him, but his thoughts drifted beyond the lenses. He was here for more than just the fashion; he craved something real, something he hadn’t found in the industry yet.

As the show began, the atmosphere shifted. Models glided down the runway, showcasing bold silhouettes and vibrant colors. Amidst the dazzle, a voice broke through the sounds of gasps and applause.

“Han Jisung! Over here!”

He turned to see a woman waving a microphone, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. She was a reporter, her name tag identifying her as Y/N. Jisung felt a magnetic pull towards her, a warmth that filled the air between them.

“Can we grab a quick interview?” she asked, her voice confident yet friendly.

“Sure!” he replied, taking a step closer. The noise of the crowd faded as their eyes locked. “What do you want to know?”

“First, what’s it like walking the Balmain show?” Y/N asked, her curiosity genuine.

“It’s exhilarating,” he replied, a grin forming. “The energy of the crowd, the designs... it’s all so inspiring. I feel like I’m part of something bigger.”

Y/N noted his passion, her heart fluttering. “What do you think sets Balmain apart from other brands?”

“Balmain is about boldness,” he said, his expression earnest. “Every piece tells a story, and I love being part of that narrative.”

Her pen scribbled notes furiously, but her attention remained on him. “And what story do you want to tell today?”

He paused, considering his words. “Today, I want to show that fashion can be both art and a reflection of self. It’s important to stay true to who you are. Also I’m glad Oliver himself gave me this opportunity.”

“Beautifully said,” Y/N smiled, captivated. “What’s next for you?”

“I’m working on some personal projects,” Jisung replied, his gaze unwavering. “I want to explore music more deeply, and maybe, a collaboration with some artists. Fashion is just one part of my expression.”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the buzz of the fashion show becoming a distant hum. Jisung leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. “And what about you? What brought you to Paris?”

Y/N hesitated, then chuckled softly. “I’ve always dreamed of being in the fashion capital, interviewing the most talented people. I guess you could say I’m living my dream, but it’s hard to keep up with all the glamour.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he countered, his voice low and sincere. “You’re doing amazing work. And you definitely have a way of making an interview feel... special.”

As the show concluded, the crowd erupted in applause. Jisung glanced at Y/N, who was still watching him, her eyes filled with admiration. “I really appreciate this time, Y/N. It’s not often I feel this connection during interviews.”

“Likewise,” she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“I just realized,” he said, his expression shifting slightly. “I forgot my phone at the hotel. Could I borrow yours to call someone?”

“Of course!” Y/N responded, handing him her phone, a flutter of excitement swirling in her stomach.

He took the device, his fingers brushing against hers as he dialed a number. But he didn’t call anyone, instead he gave her her phone back. Confused, she looks at her phone reading in the notes his number and ‘Call me when you want :)’

“Wait, you’re giving me your number?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? We had a great conversation,” he replied with a playful smile. “And who knows, maybe I could use your help navigating the Parisian scene.”

Her heart raced as she took the slip of paper he handed her. “I’ll definitely keep this,” she said, tucking it away. “I’d love to help.”

“Great! Maybe we can grab coffee or something?” Jisung suggested, his eyes hopeful.

“Absolutely,” she said, feeling a surge of excitement. “I’d love that.”

As the crowd began to disperse, Y/N felt an urge to seize the moment. “Why don’t you come to my apartment after the show? It’s not far from here. We could talk more, maybe about that collaboration you mentioned. I don’t want to sound to.. hasty tho!! Feel free to refuse!”

“Really?” His face lit up, and a grin spread across his lips. “I’d love to. Just give me a second to change out of this suit.”

“Take your time. I’ll be waiting,” she replied, her heart pounding.

A short while later, they met outside, Jisung now in a casual yet stylish outfit. He walked beside her through the charming Parisian streets, the sun setting and casting a golden glow on everything.

“This city is incredible,” he said, glancing around. “I can see why people fall in love with it.”

“It’s even better when you’re exploring it with someone,” Y/N said, glancing sideways at him, the connection between them palpable.

They arrived at her apartment, a cozy place filled with eclectic decor and soft lighting. Y/N gestured for him to sit as she poured two glasses of wine.

“Cheers to new friendships,” she said, raising her glass.

“Cheers,” he echoed, clinking his glass against hers, their fingers brushing again.

As they sipped their wine, the conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating the air. Jisung leaned in closer, his voice a soft murmur. “You know, I’ve never felt this way about someone I just met.”

“Me neither,” Y/N confessed, her heart fluttering as she met his gaze. “It’s like... there’s something special here.”

He sighed, a content smile on his lips. “We should enjoy this moment, whatever it is.”

Y/N watched him, captivated by the way his eyes sparkled. “Agreed. But I can’t help but wonder what happens next.”

“Let’s not think about the ‘next’ just yet,” he said, moving a little closer. “Let’s just enjoy what we have right now.”

With the atmosphere thickening, Y/N felt a rush of courage. “Jisung,” she murmured, “would it be too forward if I said I really want to kiss you?”

His breath caught, his eyes widening slightly before a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

And just like that, the space between them shrank, the world outside fading away. Jisung cupped her face gently, leaning in until their lips met. It was a sweet, tentative kiss that quickly deepened, filled with the promise of something beautiful.

When they finally pulled away, both breathless, Y/N smiled shyly. “Wow. I didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” Jisung admitted, his forehead resting against hers. “But I’m glad it happened.”

Y/N gazed into his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through her. “So, what do we do now?”

“Let’s keep this between us for now,” he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I think we have something worth exploring.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said, her heart soaring. “A secret romance in the city of love.”

“Exactly,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. “Just you, me, and Paris.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the city lights began to twinkle, reflecting the magic of their newfound connection—a love that blossomed amidst the glamour and chaos, hidden yet vibrant, waiting to unfold.

As days turned into weeks, their secret meetings became the highlight of both their lives. They strolled through cobblestone streets, shared quiet dinners in tucked-away bistros, and found solace in each other’s laughter.

One evening, as they sat on a balcony overlooking the Seine, Y/N turned to Jisung, her heart full. “What if we told the world?”

He paused, his gaze thoughtful. “I want to, but I’m afraid of how it might change things. The industry can be harsh.”

She nodded, understanding the weight of his words. “But we can’t keep hiding forever. I want to be proud of what we have.”

“Me too,” he admitted, taking her hand. “Let’s give it time. We can enjoy this moment without the pressure of the world watching.”

Y/N smiled, feeling reassured. “Okay. We’ll take it slow.”

Their connection deepened, the love that had sparked in Paris growing into something beautiful and real. They learned to navigate the complexities of their lives, balancing their careers with their devotion to each other, always cherishing the moments stolen beneath the Parisian sky.

And as they embraced the uncertainty of their future, one thing remained clear—their love was worth every risk, every whispered secret, and every stolen kiss. In the city of love, they had found each other, and that was more than enough.

[royalarchivist]

WillNeff: Cellbit, you've been screaming for him all day in the chat, how you feeling today?

Cellbit: Really great! I'm feeling hyped, it's so good to see so many friends of mine here. Super super excited for tonight!

WillNeff: I love the look, tell me about the look today.

Cellbit: Ok, this is basically my girlfriend picked a lot of sht for me– can I swear?

WillNeff: Yeah, yeah.

Cellbit: Ok, so she got a lot of sht for me. I have like, these Balmain (?) shoes, I have this silver chain from a store called Geheru (???) and a pretty all-black basic suit.

WillNett: You look sharp, you look good!

Cellbit: You too, man!

WillNeff: Thank you! Now, you are nominated in multiple categories tonight. How are you feeling about that?

Cellbit: I don't know! There's a chance to win, but I also like– just being nominated and being here is already a great honor for me. Like, there are so many creators I watch and enjoy, you included!

WillNeff: Stop!

Cellbit: We're in the same category! We're on "Streamed Series."

WillNeff: Well, I'm happy to lose to you.

Cellbit: I'll be happy to lose to you too!

WillNeff: Ok, excellent. And you're also nominated for International Streamers.

Cellbit: Yes, yes, and also international streamers– I have only friends there! There's Rivers, Quackity, Etoiles, so honestly? If I lose, I'm winning too 'cuz my friends are winning!

WillNeff: I'm so happy we have all the international streamers in the house. You guys have the most insane, amazing fan bases– [waves to the camera] hi to everybody in Brazil! Anything else you want to shout out or say before we let you go and drink?

Cellbit: Oh, thank you so much! I know that people have been spamming in the chat, thank you so much for the love, and yeah, have fun man! Have fun everyone.

WillNeff: You have fun! Alright, guys, we're gonna throw back to you. Thank you, and we'll talk to you later!

[b00tyliciousbabe]

my baby daddies - ep. 2

wyatt cushman x male reader

summary: the scoop on how wide i buss it open for mr cushman xx

notes: hi beautiful ppl, back again! once he go black, he'll be back again. tell them hoes that it's crunch time, abdomen. yes i cop mad chanel and mad given. she did it again, imagine them!!! sorry nicki ate that verse tf UPPP. bout to make these bum bitches mad again, okay lemme stop. I KNEW EXACTLY WHAT I WAS DOING W THAT BLACK VERSE XOXO. hope you guys are all doing well <3 i will be releasing 2 other series ("the DILFs' and a surprise one which will become coming soon ) so stay tuned! any requests? ENJOYYYY…

you and wyatt met at one of your first shoots. you were the stylist’s assistant and your boss had tasked you with making sure all the models had their hair, outfits, and makeup all ready for the editorials. you were admired by so many in the industry, icons and the public alike, and even though you didn’t have your own company, it was clear that you were on your way to becoming one of the biggest names in fashion history. you enjoyed getting to know all the models personally, and it made the whole process of getting ready much easier. but one person that always had you flustered was wyatt cushman, who you had become really good friends over the years. you definitely found him attractive, but he was so distracting; the agency called him ‘the menace’ with all the harmless trouble he got the two of you into. years had passed, the two of you remained really close, but it wasn’t until the balenciaga show, that the two of you vocalised the unspoken tension between you two.

you were responsible for all of the outfits for the fashion week at balmain, a huge role that olivier rousteing himself appointed you to do. it was a huge success and the press had a field day documenting your achievements. your biggest supporter, wyatt, was there to give you the biggest hug on the runway, garnering an even greater cheer from the crowd. “Y/N, you’re amazing” he said staring intensely in love as he placed his hands on your lower back. the distance between your lips decreased as the two of you shared your first kiss…in front of the entire world. you pulled away; being brought back to reality and how 4.5 million people had witnessed the two of you together, you couldn’t help but laugh, as everyone applauded and jeered at your love. the rest was history.

one thing about wyatt, he is the goofiest mf ever and you love it. he’s always cracking jokes and the life of the party. You feel so safe around him, don’t get it twisted, he’d beat the shit out of anyone who even looked at you the wrong way, but you could handle yourself. flashback to the time where y’all were celebrating your collaboration with vogue: you were dancing the night away with your friends when some guy decided to get a lil too close. the creep groped your ass to which he was served a fat slap across the face. he fell to the ground and the crowd started cheering. wyatt smiled proud that you were able to defend yourself - so proud, that on the way home you took a detour where you guys had the best make out session in the history of rom coms.

the golfer’s wife and the holiday maker:

this man is always travelling and he loves to share those memories with you. other than being his personal photographer, the two of you are able to explore so many different ways of living on your journeys and you dream together of living abroad one day.

On one of your holidays, you had decided to take your boyfriend stargazing “come on wyatt, i don’t wanna miss it” you say gripping his arm as you led him to a quiet space overlooking the ocean. “babe, I’m pretty sure the stars aren’t going anywhere,” he chuckled “and besides, the sky isn’t as pretty as the star right in front of me” he stops and turns to face you. he strokes your cheek, looking down at you with a smile that rivalled romeo’s love for juliet. y’all sat down watching how nature looked so peaceful. he started kissing on your neck, leaving light hickeys to mark you as his. straddling your bf, you deepened the kiss as you felt him grow uncomfortably large in his jeans. you undid his trousers as 8 thick inches of uncut hairy cock made contact with the chill of the night. “you don’t know how much this turns me on, y/n”

you continued sucking on his tip, swirling and drooling all over him as a pool of your spit congealed in his pubes. all the while his hands gripped your roots urging you to take more and more of his cock. you gargled and took him like a champ.

“babe, ughh, I’m bout to, uuhhh shit shit” he came deep down your throat, cleaning your chin with his finger and then poking it in your mouth as he made sure to feed you with every last drop.

you laid down, proud of your efforts to calm him down and your head tucked into cushman’s shoulder, as you began to feel sleepy. your bf noticed this and chuckled to himself, using the blanket he brought to make sure you wouldn’t get cold. “mkay, y/n kinda had a point, this is pretty cool,” he whispered, still riding the high you gave him “but it’s got nothing on him tho, my cute ass bf” wyatt embraced you tighter. the wedding bells were already ringing in his head.

MORE SLUTTY THOUGHTS:

• he deffo has a spit kink. not saying that he’d treat you as worthless scum but, he’d would make sure to slut you out. and you fucking loved it. “you’re a dirty little whore, aren’t you” he’d grunt raw dogging your ass as he spat in your face.

• as dominant as he is, he likes to give you your time to shine, always enjoying it when you spell coconut with your hips as you ride his pole. as I’ve mentioned already his smile drives you crazy, and this position has him cheesing the MOST. wyatt just loves to see how much you’re enjoying the experience, and nothing turns him on more than when he can see the pleasure on your face. “fuck babe, you look so sexy riding my dick.”

• this leads on to missionary, nobody fucks harder in this position than this man. he definitely compensates for his soft strokes in doggy and prone bone because of how hard he hits your hole in missionary. He turns primal as well, feeling your chest bounce up every time he’s balls deep, but all in all he’s crazy for how your bodies are so in sync.

[daoluxury35]

Breguet watch China luxury goods wholesaler Website link: dao-luxury.com whatsapp:wa.me/86176… ✈ Shipping to all countries ⭐Delivery within 8-14 days ⭐Global online logistics services Order by wire transfer. Thank you for your interest in our partnership! We are pleased to be your company's reliable wholesale supplie

[zimson-watches]

Online watch store

Looking for the ideal timepiece to compliment your style? Look no further than Zimson Watches, the top online watch store destination. With Zimson Watches, you can browse an outstanding assortment of timepieces that seamlessly combine elegance and functionality. Zimson offers traditional designs, sporty chronographs, and sleek modern shapes to suit every taste and occasion. Our selected assortment includes everything from known luxury brands to fashionable, economical selections, ensuring that you'll find the ideal watch to express your unique style. With a few clicks, you may browse our broad selection of timepieces, compare styles, and select the one that speaks to you. Experience the convenience of shopping from the comfort of your own home while having the assurance of quality and authenticity.

[nateezfics]

you know how Hongjoong likes to take photos? dresses you up in lace and silk, sits you down on his dick and takes polaroid of you absolutely cock drunk as he fucks you, another photo of your lips etched in red lipstick around the head of his cock, another of your chest splattered in his come to show he’s claimed you, the same red lipstick being used so that he can write all over you, another of his name written above your heart on your chest to feed his possessive side, another of his cock resting against your stomach so he can see just how deep he can reach inside you. debauchery.

we love debauchery here, yes we do!

ok, so, this is immensely hot and i’ve been slow to respond to this simply because my brain shuts down every time i read this. like, i can’t form coherent thoughts. so the best way i can go about this is to break it down lol. there’s a lot to take in (heheh;))

hongjoong has a whole portfolio of you in various states of undoing. he would dress you up in lingerie in his favorite colors, he’d also just leave you completely bare because he loves to see you fully exposed to him, but he’d also dress you up in his fav pieces from balmain (whether it’s pieces he got specifically for you or his own balmain garments). and then, just photographs you taking his dick, capturing the way your body goes limp and pliable for him. he loves to save the pictures of you being the best little cockslut for him, those are very dear to him.

hongjoong likes to put the red lipstick on for you. he sits you on his lap, maybe even while he’s in you, and gently colors your lips with the red pigment. pushes you to your knees and watches the way your red lips wrap around his cock (he specifically gets lipstick he knows will smudge, just to see the way his cock turns red from it). he’d love to see how messy the lipstick gets, knowing he’s the one who ruined it (and you). these pictures of your messy red lips around his cock are sinful, and he revisits them often!

the artist in him takes over when he lays you down and begins drawing on your skin with the lipstick. he’ll make your body his canvas, doodling designs all over you, highlighting every part of you he adores (which is all of you). opens your thighs and writes “mine” on your thighs, with arrows pointing to your pretty pussy. definitely writes obscene words like “cockslut” and “pretty whore” and “cum dump” all over you. shushes you when you squirm, and will even finger you with his free hand to placate you while he continues drawing on you. snaps a pic of everything he drew on you.

his absolute fav pics of you are the ones he takes of you with his fresh cum on your chest, dripping between your breasts. his possessive side eats this up. loves to claim you like this, because you’re his and the pictures of you being the prettiest little cum dumpster for him prove that. he has a soft spot for taking pictures of his cum leaking from your cunt. he almost cums again at the sight.

snaps photos of his dick resting on your lower abdomen, absolutely in awe that you manage to take him in full. hongjoong praises you for how good you take him, saying shit like “this tiny pussy takes my cock so good”, “this pussy loves to gorge itself on my cock, yeah?”, “no matter how many times i stretch you out with my cock, your pussy always stays so tight for me”, and “you were made for my cock, baby”.

[songmingisthighs]

High End

group : ateez

pairing : hongjoong × model!reader

genre : smut

wc : 2.8 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (m receiving), alcohol consumption, degradation (??), unprotected sex (just no), hongjoong being cocky, mc being a filthy sub, bathroom sex ?, cum eating, idek man it’s confusing like there’s slight spit play ig? and like some pussy slapping, unrealistic depiction of sex. if your sex after this sucks pls don’t come at me. not my fault your partner is not kim hongjoong.

a/n : it’s ass oclock. literally the witching hour like 3.33 am. if i don’t make sense, i am not sorry. you are reading the horny thoughts of a delirious woman who just saw kim hongjoong dressed in balmain and suddenly she got inspired to write about this genre of hongjoong. it’s hongjoong. how can i not? any complaints should be addressed to my chinese lawyer. sue mi.

a/a/n : this is a repost of the first high end fic that somehow did nawt show up on any of the tags I'm seriously so sick of this

buy me coffee?

Kim Hongjoong is a powerful man and you know it.

You saw him when he was invited by Olivier Rousteing himself to get a sneak peek of the newest line. It was obvious to everyone there that Kim Hongjoong was a new face, he had never been seen in the fashion scene before and yet he suddenly appeared next to Olivier himself like they were old racquetball buddies. Honestly, it kind of seemed like Hongjoong was simply Olivier’s newest pet, a fascination of his worldly inspiration.

Or so you thought.

Kim Hongjoong easily commands any room he’s in no matter what he was doing. The first time you laid eyes on him was when he was being introduced to the venue owner. ‘Soft’ was the first thing you thought of him followed by 'delicate’. You have never seen a man with such stature to seem inviting yet absolutely forbidden. There was this aura building simply by him smiling at people and making small talk. There was a moment where your eyes met and you swore you saw a glint in his eyes that seemed… possessive. Your model friends told you to pay him no mind but even as you were called to disrobe and do final touches backstage, your eyes didn’t leave him. Neither did he on you.

Throughout the show, through wardrobe changes, you notice that Hongjoong too experienced some changes of his own. He was eyeing you in a way that was rather different than when you both first laid eyes on each other. The outfit the stylists put on you felt almost like nothing under Hongjoong’s gaze. You convinced yourself that he was eyeing the material and the styling or even the makeup but no, he was practically undressing you. Your assumption was further supported when you saw how his gaze shifted from the model who went before you to you. His rounded orbs that peeked from his sunglasses slanted, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his crisp suit showed a noticeable rise of his chest that remained until you turned around, and when you reached the end to strike one last post, you saw him ducking his head to watch you as he let his sunglasses slid down his sharp nose and licked his bottom lip.

So obviously when Olivier brought him over to introduce him to you, you couldn’t help but be intimidated. But when Olivier said that Hongjoong was intrigued with you, you felt your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was even worse when he took your hand gently and planted a soft kiss on the back. The motion was slow and steady as if he was appreciating every minuscule welcome of his gesture from you. Electric shocks coursed through your body from the spot where his lips lingered just a tad bit too long. Not that you were complaining though, you liked the feeling when he made contact. For some reason, the littlest touch felt addicting, it left the spot he touched with a warm sensation that you craved even seconds after it was over. Not only that, but the way he spoke was alluring. Of course, he tried speaking English to you and Olivier, and while it was good enough for you to understand, his manager took over and helped translate. All this time you thought French was the sexiest language but apparently you were wrong because suddenly Hongjoong’s aura changed once he was in his element. That room was his element and you couldn’t peel your eyes off of him, it was as if you were in a trance. You hadn’t even realized that Olivier excused himself and Hongjoong to attend to the guests, wanting Hongjoong to meet some of the people from Balmain itself. While Olivier simply turned and walked away, Hongjoong took a step towards you, tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled a devilishly gentle smile.

“I hope to see you soon.”

Though it was phrased like a request, you realized that it was very much a demand. With eyes that dropped to the hand he kissed, he looked back up to you and left with a not-so-subtle wink.

Had anyone else seen the both of you interacting, they would’ve immediately tried to cut the sexual tension with a sword and they would’ve done it so easily. Kim Hongjoong is a powerful, influential man who knows a lot of things that are in his element. But what he knows most is what he wants and moreover, he knows how to get what he wants. You hadn’t even realized that he slipped something into your hand until you looked at it.

A room key.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn’t clear how it happened, it wasn’t clear when exactly it happened. But you found yourself between Hongjoong’s manspreading legs in the bathtub, sucking his cock as he took sips of his Moet messily. Droplets of the bittersweet liquid fell from the corners of his lips down to your face and into your busy mouth. The taste of his precum mixed with expensive alcohol somehow made your head swirl as if you were experiencing a drug-induced high. You were never one to analyze the taste of cum, but you had a sneaking sensation that rather than the alcohol, it was Hongjoong’s cum that made the alcohol taste better. Maybe it was some sort of a drug, Kim Hongjoong that is, he was your drug. Through your heavy lids, you could see Hongjoong smirking down at you with maniacal ease playing on his lips, taunting your presence and your work. The golden liquid in the tall glass was swirled around to further emphasize the power he had between you. While it seemed like he wasn’t affected much by your greedy mouth trying to coax an orgasm out of him, the way his cock twitch inside your mouth said otherwise. You knew that having him was a good idea ever since you first laid eyes on it when Hongjoong oh-so-casually pulled the tie of his bathrobe to reveal his boner. Never have you been so attracted to someone’s genitals but you knew you just had to have that pretty thing in your mouth.

“You like this, don’t you? You’re enjoying yourself much more than I’m enjoying my cock between your lips,” he mocked. Usually, you wouldn’t appreciate being degraded like that, a sexual act in its own nature is explicit and dirty but somehow he made it sinfully pleasing. You couldn’t help but clench at how he was talking down at you, mocking you for being desperate for him. His chuckle sent a wave of vibration that reached your tongue, “I can see your cunt clenching at nothing. Do you really want me that bad? Do you like my cock that much?” he taunted. The fact that the bathtub was facing a window alluded you momentarily, you were so focused on sucking off Hongjoong that the whole world almost literally blurred away.

For Kim Hongjoong and Kim Hongjoong only, you were nothing but a toy that he could collect and play with however he wanted. But you had no issue with it as upon realization, Hongjoong is a man who appreciates art. Whatever he does has a meaning and the meaning is more often than not uniquely beautiful. To be the art that he possesses to appreciate, was like the highest honour you could ever reach.

The more you tasted him, the hungrier you were. As your head bobbed to take more of him, wanting to get him to cum on your tongue so you could selfishly guzzle his juice for yourself. “Greedy, greedy girl,” he said almost in a disappointed manner as he ran his hand down your hunched back down as far as he could reach, “How can something so beautiful be so sinful?” he sighed. Your mouth detached from his cock when you felt him drag his fingers from just above your ass and up. The feeling of his nails marking you ever so slowly was thrilling; your pussy dripped with arousal, mixing into the warm, soapy water, and your spine arched as goosebumps rose in the path that Hongjoong made. Had you not been kneeling on the tub, you would’ve definitely slipped and possibly injured yourself.

Hongjoong watched in awe as your face contorted in pleasure. He watched as your bottom lip trembled and eyebrows furrowed while your eyes shone with the help of the accumulating tears that gathered from the pleasurable sting. The only thing Hongjoong regret at that moment was how he couldn’t make a baroque painting out of your erotic expression. The lines forming on your face told all the emotions that you were feeling as if it was telling its own story and explaining the harmony. Looking south, your trembling breasts made your state somehow more precious; the stiff peaks looked so inviting but the fleshy mounds warned him to treat you delicately. In contrast to the night sky that served as a backdrop, you looked like a star in his eyes.

Without wasting time, Hongjoong slid into the tub, joining you in a kneeling position as he turned your body to face the window. The gleaming lights of Paris in the night framed the reflection of you with Hongjoong pressing his body tightly to your back. For a moment, you could feel the smooth head of his cock prodding around your pussy, collecting your arousal as if he wanted to collect them so as to not go to waste. Slowly and carefully, you felt Hongjoong’s arms making their way up your arms. Your face heated up when you felt him lift them and lock them behind his neck. “Keep them there. Can you do that for me?” Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his hot breath and lips on your ear. This man truly knew what he was doing. Which was why he slapped your cunt when you didn’t give him an answer. “I was asking you,” he growled which made his chest vibrate on your back. With a nervous lick to your bottom lip, you meekly nodded, “Yes, sir, I can,” though you tried, you couldn’t hold the crack of your voice which thankfully Hongjoong found adorable so he didn’t even comment on it. “Good,” the hand that slapped your cunt stayed in its place with two of his fingers nestled between your nether lips comfortably. His other hand soon found purchase between your breasts to rest on your sternum. He must’ve felt how quick your heart was beating because he began grinding his cock on your cunt accompanied by his fingers tapping on your clit into the rhythm of your heartbeat. Even if you willed yourself, and you did, you couldn’t help it when your hips jolted into the taps, wanting more stimulation from his fingers as your hole clenched, forcing some of your arousal to drip more to Hongjoong’s cock.

In one swift move, Hongjoong impaled you with his length. The sudden impact almost sent you reeling forward, hurtling even, had it not for Hongjoong’s surprisingly strong grip on your body. Each thrust from his hips sent your thighs trembling in pleasure and it was only intensified when his fingers decided to toy with your clit. Melodious grunts and moans on top of sensuous huff and puff of air should not be as erotic but Hongjoong managed to fill your head with his verbal affirmation of pleasure. Your senses were sent to overdrive while your perseverance was put to the test. Through each slip of your fingers or how your knees buckle, you tried to not falter. “God, Hongjoong,” you moaned, nearly squealing when Hongjoong pinched your clit rather harshly. The sudden treatment caused your body to shiver and it was to Hongjoong’s delight to see your breasts bouncing and legs trying to close.

If you think you were in a state of absolute bliss, Hongjoong was in a whole new plane of existence. He loved how responsive you were to his moves, the way your body sought more of him whenever he touched a new place. He loved how your skin felt against his. But nothing beats the feeling of staking a claim over a pussy, your pussy. Though you both just met, his ego managed to convince him that your pussy was made for him, it was melded to accommodate him and only him. He wondered how he could feel so amazing being in someone’s cunt. Obviously, there is pleasure, but anyone can feel pleasure from anything. Not everyone had the privilege of experiencing heavenly sinful bliss. It felt so right but so wrong at the same time because how was he supposed to live without being inside of you all the time after this? He never wanted to leave. Even if he does, he wanted to make sure to truly make you his.

“I’m going to make your pussy mine. I’ll make sure to leave part of me inside you,” he announced. Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating the absolute recklessness Hongjoong was about to do to you. Words never had such an effect on you but you love it, you love what Hongjoong was doing to you where he wanted to do it with you. The sound of sloshing water and also the feeling of being swayed by the movement of the water due to your activity felt organic, it felt natural. Droplets of water that splashed on your entangled bodies served to remind you of the reality that the rest of the world still existed. But it didn’t seem to matter. Not when you and he were so close to cumming.

Knowing that he didn’t want your hands to wander, you decided that your release was more important. Your right hand left its post to grab the Hongjoong’s hand that was nestled on your cunt. Before Hongjoong could protest, your now vacant left hand grabbed a handful of Hongjoong’s hair on the back of his head, instantly causing Hongjoong to gasp and roll his eyes into their socket. Meanwhile, you worked his hand on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on the abused bundle of nerve frantically. Your hips ground to chase the pleasure on your clit and to meet Hongjoong’s thrusts continuously until you were squealing, releasing your cum. As you rode the high or orgasm, your body tried to curl up on its own, your cunt had a vice grip on Hongjoong’s cock as your legs tried to snap shut. The pleasure was almost too much for you to handle that it started becoming painful. But the pain was too good, so addicting, you wanted more of it and you didn’t want it to stop. So through the pain, with Hongjoong’s other arm keeping you close, you enjoyed every bit of sadistic release.

Hongjoong tried to pump his cock as best he could despite the firm grip your cunt had on him. Thankfully, he managed to unload his seed in time, just as your hole began fluttering. The knowledge that he was making you his along with the sweet sensation of release were the two things Hongjoong could think about. On top of that, he also believed that he couldn’t get enough of it, especially the sight of your body twitching in front of him, decorated by the Parisian lights. It was a boost to his ego. Moreover, when you finally collapsed into the tub with your head resting on Hongjoong’s hip next to his softening cock, Hongjoong never felt more powerful.

In contrast to the activity you both just went through, Hongjoong softly carded his fingers through your hair, gently so as to not cause tangles. The comforting gesture allowed you to close your eyes and enjoy the moment, though your lips decided to show some appreciation to the man by peppering kisses around his hips. “You did such a good job,” Hongjoong cooed affectionately, genuinely satisfied with what just happened. So much so that he took his glass that he abandoned on the tray by the tub to finish off his Moet.

You thought he just wanted to finish off the glass but you were wrong. Because the next thing you know, Hongjoong maneuvered your body to lean back on the tub as he leaned close to you. With his thumb, he gently coaxed your chin open and spit some of the alcohol into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise initially but the stern yet hopeful look in Hongjoong’s eyes made you swallow the liquid. The slight burn of alcohol was no match to the fire that burned in Hongjoong’s eyes when he saw how obedient you were. Once you opened your mouth to show that you had indeed swallowed the mixture of his spit and alcohol, Hongjoong wasted no time in pressing his lips wholly on yours. The rest of the alcohol in his mouth dripped down to yours, some you welcome down your throat and some dribbled down the sides of your mouth down to your chin and further down, creating a trail to your cleavage. With a last pat to your spent cunt that was leaking his cum underwater, Hongjoong smirked to your lips, “Such a good job indeed.”

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @thesolarplanetarysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @cutie-wooyo

@asjkdk @shinotani @aestheticsluut

@chloepurpy

[nebulousbrainsoup]

business attire

PAIRING: fashion designer/director!kim hongjoong x assistant!reader GENRE: smut with feelings, lil bit of fluff TAGS/WARNINGS: non idol au, neutral pronouns used for reader, reader wears a dress (but in true joong fashion clothes have no gender), balmain!joong AND strawberry!joong, mentions of anxiety, hongjoong is a simp, pov shifts a lil, ash's questionable editing; lmk if you find anything else! WORD COUNT: 4.5k A/N: so, we were trying to figure out when the outlaw red hair concept photos may have been taken and sky might've mentioned that the cut looks like what he had before the european leg of tour and paris and balmain and... things escalated. tagging my enablers: @hwaightme @jaehunnyy @justhere4kpop

nsfw tags under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: language, they're both switches, reader has female anatomy, mildly public sex (locked conference room), brief dom/sub undertones, sex with your boss is kind of its own form of power play, mentions of punishment, use of pet/nicknames (babe, Balmain Boy, sweetheart, love), hair pulling, marking, joong is possessive, dirty talk, lil bit of degradation, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it homies), piv, finger sucking/fingers as a gag, creampie; lmk what i missed

You were so late. It wasn’t like you in the slightest, so you were hoping against hope that your boss would let it slide this once, but… fifteen minutes behind and counting for the monthly investors’ meeting was certainly pushing your luck and probably his patience. You wish you could say it was entirely not your fault, but you were the one who had both forgotten to set your alarm last night and postponed laundry long enough that, when you spilled your coffee down the front of you this morning, you were left with only two options; either your pyjamas, or the unreleased piece currently hanging on the back of your door, reserved for S(e)oul Monde’s summer release show next week. The wave of anxiety over Hongjoong’s reaction took an extra five minutes to tamp down, and by the time you’d finally figured out the clasps and sashes—having been reminded why models had dressers—you had five minutes to get out the door if you were going to catch your train. You managed it, if barely, yanking on your boots and snagging your workbag from by the door, barely stopping to lock it behind you. 

And, of course, you’d made it into the station in time to watch the damned thing pull away. Of all the days for it to be actually on time, of course it was today. Fantastic. The bus had been the only option, and between the walk back up to the street and the distance between the nearest stop and S(e)oul Monde headquarters… You’d known this would be the outcome. It didn’t stop you from trying to close as much of the gap in time as possible, though. The moment you were seated, leg bouncing feverishly, you’d sent a message to your boss, apologizing and letting him know you were on your way. 

You’d known it would go unread, but that didn’t stop the irritation that bubbled up at the sight as the bus pulled into your stop. Flying through the doors and up the stairs as quickly as you could, you gave tight smiles and murmured apologies to the coworkers you nearly trampled in your rush to the elevator. The disgruntled sounds of its occupants and those waiting echoed as you wormed your way in, a quick, scathing glare around quietling them as you pressed the button for the tenth floor. With only two stops between you and your destination, you were slipping into the conference room seventeen minutes behind schedule, tablet clutched to your chest as all eyes turned from the man speaking to the door. You immediately dropped into a ninety degree bow, apologizing profusely as you shuffled toward your seat, dropping your bag into it and taking your place. 

Hongjoong, like everyone else in the room, had looked at you the moment you entered the room, but unlike the investors, he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from you. His surroundings faded to a blur as you made your way to stand next to him, the breath having been knocked from his lungs. The dress was perfect, exactly as he knew it would be—a little short for a traditional office, certainly; he’d seen a few eyebrows raise at your entrance—and on you, of all people, it looked immaculate, like it had been designed specifically with you in mind. Which, well…

Every artist has a muse. Hongjoong wouldn’t be apologizing, especially not when you looked that good in his work. 

It was your voice that pulled Hongjoong out of his stupor. 

“I’m sorry for my lateness and the interruption, sir. Please, continue.”

He snapped back into himself, blinking rapidly and offering you a soft smile. “Right.”

When he had finished with his presentation and you both sat back down, Hongjoong at the head of the table and you to his left, you finally let yourself relax. The way he’d stared you down over the tops of his glasses as you made your whirlwind entrance hadn’t slipped past your notice, leaving anxiety coiling in your gut, alongside something entirely more exciting. It was no secret to either you or your boss that you each found the other wildly attractive, and the combination of his intense gaze on you earlier and the way he looked today had memories flashing through your mind that were entirely inappropriate for the workplace. He always dressed up a bit more for these meetings, but today, he’d really gone above and beyond. The custom, black velvet Balmain suit he wore made his freshly dyed red hair look even brighter, and it took a stunning amount of self-control to keep from leaning over and taking the chain connecting his lip ring to one of his many earrings between your teeth. All in good time, you supposed, if the way he was looking at you earlier was any indication. Sure enough, as he slid his chair under the conference table, a warm hand settled on your knee, and the chill of the various rings adorning it nearly made you jump. Feeling you twitch, Hongjoong peeled his eyes from the man speaking to flash you a slightly worried glance. You returned it with a slight smile and a nearly imperceptible nod, earning a quick squeeze to your leg. The touch had your shoulders relaxing further, a silent sigh passing your lips—he wasn’t mad at you. Wearing the dress had been a gamble, and if the intensity in his gaze hadn’t been anger, then it was something not entirely different but far more fun. You smiled to yourself as you turned back to face the man speaking once more. All of that anxiety, for nothing.

Or, maybe not, because the second your eyes left the woman who had, at this point, been speaking for fifteen minutes straight, running an increasingly frustrated Hongjoong in circles, you felt his grip tighten. Your jaw twitched, and you carefully brought your gaze back to hers, feigning interest to the best of your ability as his fingers danced lightly up the inside of your thigh. 

“Y/N, could you run Ms. Lim through the timeline one more time, please,” he sighed, a tight smile on his face. 

“Of course,” you agreed with a similar look, only slightly less obvious in your annoyance, once again flipping your tablet open. Clicking through a few things, you cast your sceen to the TV on the wall and stood, making your way to stand beside it. Hongjoong’s eyes followed you the whole way, eyes wandering over the bits of skin his work left deliciously exposed. He couldn’t wait to kiss his way up your thighs, to tug the sashes criss-crossing over your back free and run his hands across the plane of it, to sink his teeth into the curve of your shoulder and make you look that much more his. You once again caught his narrowed gaze over the invisible frames of his glasses, a smirk tugging at his lips that nearly had you weak in the knees. You knew that look all too well; it was both a threat and a promise. 

Maintaining an air of complete professionalism with Hongjoong staring at you like he was ready to devour you was a feat you’d be thanking some god or another for later, but right now, you simply bowed and took your seat once more as you finished your quick presentation and returned to your place next to your boss, standing over his shoulder rather than taking your seat. 

“If something is still unclear, feel free to send me an email, but we are a bit over time and Mr. Kim has another appointment over his lunch,” you stated with a polite smile, pointedly ignoring the confused look Hongjoong momentarily shot you. “I think it would be best if we wrapped up for the day, in interest of everyone’s time.”

God, he could kiss you. He would kiss you, he decided; he’d kiss you breathless the moment he got you alone for this.

Ms. Lim pursed her lips, but the look in your eyes left no room for argument. After all, who knew the S(e)oul Monde director’s schedule better than his assistant? She nodded, pushing her chair back, and the rest of your restless company followed. “I certainly will.”

“As always, thank you all for your continued support of S(e)oul Monde, and I hope my work continues to exceed your lofty expectations,” Hongjoong offered as he stood. “Thank you for your time. I hope to see you all at our showcase next week.”

The men and women in the room murmured their own parting pleasantries, phones returning to hands and bluetooths returning to ears as they filed into the hall, leaving you and your boss alone. Only a beat of silence passed before he turned to you, heat burning behind his eyes as they flicked over you hungrily. 

“Lock the door and close the blinds.” Your low-burning nerves and arousal were both lit ablaze again at his direction, and you stuttered. He raised an eyebrow, tongue darting out to toy with the lip ring you so desperately wanted a taste of. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

The warning snapped you out of your stupor in a moment, and you paused only to set your tablet on the table before rushing to comply. His gaze was warm on the back of your neck as you moved through the room, first clicking the lock shut, then moving to drop the shades on the frosted windows that faced the hall, and finally crossing the room to do the same with the exterior windows. When you reached for the controls, Hongjoong clicked his tongue disapprovingly, the noise pinning you in place. 

“Leave those. Look at me, Y/N.” 

Swallowing thickly, you did as you were told, chin held high. “Yes?”

“You were late this morning,” he commented off-handedly as he stood, and you dropped your eyes to the floor.

“I’m sorry, everything just—” you started, only to be cut off.

“Was this little number,” he gestured to the dress, using the chance to give you another once-over, “the reason?”

“Part of it, but—”

This time, it wasn’t his words that cut you off, but his lips as he lifted your chin and dragged you into a kiss that told you exactly how long he'd been waiting to do this. You squeaked in surprise and quickly melted into him, one hand clutching at the asymmetrical neckline of his suit tightly as the other grasped at the base of his skull in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer. With a sigh, your lips parted against his, tongue darting out to finally get a taste of the brand new jewelry you'd been eyeing the entire meeting. The metallic tang pulled a pleased hum from you as you took it between your teeth, shifting to catch more of his lip than the jewelry itself as you pulled away.

“This is so not business attire, babe,” he breathed against your lips, and you laughed quietly into his mouth as he captured them again.

“Are you telling me I can’t—mm—wear your designs to the office?” You teased between kisses, finally pressing him away from you. 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes heartily, his own half-smile giving away the feigned nature of his annoyance. “Not all of them, no,” he sighed, hands coming to rest over your ass, pulling you into him and groping at it lightly. “You know better than that. And one that isn’t even released yet?” He clicked his tongue again. “I was going to forgive you for being late since you look this good, but maybe I should punish you after all.”

You frowned, pulling away from him slightly as your earlier anxiety washed over you again, and Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to take his words back. “It… This was the only thing I had clean, I spilled coffee on myself this morning and I—”

“Y/N, it’s okay, I promise,” he soothed, shifting closer to you and squeezing at your hips in a way he hoped was reassuring. “If it weren’t, I could’ve asked you to change. It’s not like we don’t have clothes in every size you could ever need.” 

“That’s… true,” you muttered, tugging your lower lip between your teeth.

Hongjoong hummed in distaste of the action, reaching up with one hand to pull the skin free and immediately planting a chaste kiss where his thumb had just been. “You just look… too good,” he murmured, grip on you tightening. “This may be my best work yet.” It was your turn to roll your eyes, scoffing as you tried and failed to push him away from you. “And yours may be getting me out of that meeting.”

“How do you know you don’t have an appointment over lunch?” You grinned, ever unable to pass up a chance to tease him. “I know you haven’t checked your schedule since this morning and—mmph!” 

For the second time in the past five minutes, he cut you off with a heated kiss. “Oh, I know I have a lunch appointment,” he shot back, spinning you and guiding you backward until your hips hit the edge of the table. “And we both know it’s with you. Up,” he directed, tapping your thigh twice. 

With a little hop and loose guidance from Hongjoong’s hands, you boosted yourself up onto the edge of the table, your boss following behind quickly to spread your knees with his own body. He couldn’t get enough of your lips today, it seemed, wrapping one arm around your waist as the other came to rest on the surface behind you, forcing an arch into your back. You let out a pleased hum against him, reaching up to card a hand up over his scalp and give his hair a light tug. The action pulled a groan from his lips as he leaned back into the contact, and when his eyes blinked back open, the predatory look he pinned you with sent electricity coursing through your veins. 

You met his fire with a burning challenge of your own, tugging harsher on your fistful of red and grinning wickedly as a throaty groan left the man’s mouth. “You,” he hissed, grabbing ahold of your wrist and tugging it free from its home, “drive me fucking insane.”

“Ditto, Balmain Boy,” you shot back, and you reveled for a moment in the shine of the smirk on his face, before it disappeared into the crook of your neck.

Little pleased sounds fell freely from your mouth as his worked its way down your throat, kissing and nipping at the skin, never enough to mark—although, you knew if you let him, Hongjoong would jump at the opportunity, jealous as he was—and he closed his eyes, basking in every single one. The hand around your waist shifted to splay out against your back, the warmth of his palm in contrast to the cool metal of his rings making you shiver again, and you felt him grinning against your skin for a beat before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You choked back a sharp cry at the sudden action, grasping at his velvet suit.

“Hongjoong,” you hissed in warning, the last syllable coming out whinier than you would have liked. In your regular attire, anything below the neck was fair game for him to mar as he pleased. But between the safety pins holding together the strap on the side he was currently working over and the mesh of the other, you were working with far less coverage than usual. He let out a low noise akin to a growl at your protest, pulling a choked-off yelp from you, before soothing over the angry skin with his tongue. 

“Joong,” you tried again, and this time let it be a whimper. “Careful.”

“Who cares,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the blooming mark before letting his lips trail across the collar of your dress. “Let them know.”

You squirmed, a quiet whine leaving you as heat struck through you at his words. “We… we can’t,” you protested weakly.

Hongjoong let out a low, dark giggle. “You don’t sound sure, sweetheart. You want people to know you’re fucking your boss?” Another whine, this one more frustrated than the last. “Nasty,” he chastised, but you could hear the grin in his voice. He got off on the thought more than you did, the possessive shit.

Straightening up, he pressed one more quick kiss to your lips before just as abruptly dropping to his knees in front of you. The action made you wince—not for the man in front of you, but for the pants he was wearing. You carded a hand into his hair again as you groaned in protest, tugging on it to force him to look up at you. “You’re gonna wear out the knees on th—”

“Worth it,” he shrugged, fingers immediately sliding under the hem of your skirt, kneading at your thighs. The moment they found the hem of your underwear, his hands slid smoothly from the outside of them in, fingertips dancing teasingly over your clothed core. He smiled up at you as you squirmed under his attention, the expression spreading to his signature smirk as he pressed harder and pulled a low moan from you.

“Get on with it, we don’t have all day,” you breathed, tugging lightly on his hair again. The sight of his eyes rolling back in his head—an exaggeration, sure, but you wouldn’t be complaining—sent heat rushing to your core again, the muscles in your thighs twitching as they tried to close around Hongjoong’s hands. 

The look he gave you was one you immediately wanted to wipe off of his face. “We do if you’ll clear my schedule,” he quipped back, earning a harsher yank to his hair, this time in the direction of your body.

“Put your mouth to better use, Kim Hongjoong.”

The second the words left your mouth, his fingers were hooking into the waistband of your underwear, and you lifted your hips off the table. In one fluid motion, he’d tugged the fabric free from your legs and left your skirt bunched around your waist, exposing you to his increasingly hungry gaze. Tossing his glasses onto the table beside you and throwing your legs over his shoulders, he pressed kisses up the inside of one of your thighs, breath barely ghosting over your center as he switched to the other. Annoyed, you tried to pull him where you wanted him, earning a breathy little laugh for your efforts. 

“Ask nicely, babe,” he muttered, pausing his work just long enough to properly look up at you.

His dick twitched in his pants at the sight. You stared down at him with half-lidded, pleading eyes and parted lips, lust clouding over your face. The neckline of your dress was still askew from where he’d pulled it aside, the skirt hiked up and now balled in your hand to give you a better view of him. And just as his eyes drifted lower, landing on your glistening heat, you breathed out a quiet, breathless, “Please.”

Who was he to deny his muse when they looked so breathtaking?

A weak, weak man. Weak for you, for everything you gave him and everything you let him take from you. Weak for the way you looked in his designs, in your own clothes, in a burlap sack, probably. Weak for the way you looked commanding the office—the whole operation would fall apart without you, and if Hongjoong were being honest with himself, he’d go with it. Weak for the way you tasted—your lips, your skin, your cunt; he’d drown in you if you would let him. 

And now, mere minutes after you’d saved him from the most boring meeting of his life; a few short hours after you’d strutted into the office in the piece he’d made for you, he was going to try whether you let him or not.

Biting back your moans while he ate you out like a starved man was a feat you didn’t think possible until you achieved it, muffling all but the quietest little whimpers and gasps as your orgasm coiled in your core. The closer you got, the harder it became, and the hand in Hongjoong’s hair left it in favor of clamping over your mouth. He growled against you in protest, the sensation making your thighs twitch, and wrapped his lips around your clit. With a few harsh sucks and practiced flicks of his tongue, you were clamping down around him, muffling the squeaks of pleasure he so desperately wished to hear.

You tugged him up off of the ground and he was weak for you, so of course he followed, palms hitting the table on either side of you as your lips crashed against his. When you pulled away again, he could only hope—fruitlessly—that you didn’t hear the way he whined.

Smiling softly, you tugged him in again briefly, gracing his lips with a chaste kiss before breathing a quiet “Fuck me,” against them.

Hongjoong was so, unbelievably, undeniably weak for you. Weak for the way you felt pressed up against him, the way he knew you would feel around him—and with that thought, he was scrambling to unfasten his pants, suddenly desperate and so, so weak. He hadn’t noticed how constricting the fabric had become until you shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees in one go, the release of pressure pulling a low moan from him. 

Reaching between your bodies, you wrapped your fingers around his length, delighting in the way it twitched in your hand at the same time his breath hitched. He shifted forward, bracing his hands further behind you and crowding into your personal space, slowly guiding you back down onto the table. You stroked him slowly for as long as you could reach, until finally, with a whine of protest, he pressed your shoulder back against the wood. Bracing himself with an arm beside you, he leaned down to catch your lips in a heated kiss, his free hand busying itself with lining his cock up at your entrance. His tip brushed your folds once, twice, before he pushed into you in one fluid thrust, hips falling flush with your own. 

The feeling of him filling you and the sound of the breathy moan that left Hongjoong had your walls fluttering around him, and the pause he took was as much for himself as it was for you, you could tell. So, you gave him his moment, taking the opportunity to drink in his form above you. He looked as desperate as you felt, so before he’d opened his eyes, you rolled your hips, pride swelling in your chest as his eyes shot open and he cursed under his breath. 

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t like repeating themself. Fuck. Me,” you demanded, punctuating it with another grind of your hips against his.

His gaze darkened, and electric arousal warmed your body. You saw him fight for words for a split second and quickly give up, electing instead to drape your knees over his arms and start fucking into you at a brutal pace. The suddenness punched a small yelp out of you at first, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, turning to look anywhere but at the man grinning devilishly down at you. He clicked his tongue and the rough grip he had on one of your thighs disappeared, his hand shifting instead to your chin. You were nearly folded in half as he reached for you, and the shift in angle had his length dragging over all the right places.

Securing your face between his fingers, he yanked you back toward him, forcing eye contact as he pounded into you. “Watch me, sweetheart. Watch me make you come undone again. I want you to remember this.” His rough handling had dislodged your hand from your mouth, and as a drawn out keen began to bubble up from your throat, he shoved two fingers past your lips to silence you. 

Some combination of the intimacy of looking into his eyes and the way he knew your body so well—shifting and adjusting until your legs were shaking—had your high building rapidly, and your teeth closed lightly around his knuckles as you felt the coil tightening in your gut. He tilted his head at you, a weak grin gracing his sweat-coated face as you sucked at the digits, pulling a breathy sigh from him. 

“Close?” he uttered, and you nodded rapidly, one hand snaking between your bodies to rub tight circles over your clit. “Cum with me then, love.” 

Whether it was the pet name or his permission that sent you over the edge, you weren’t quite sure, but just like that, the tension lacing your body snapped, and you clamped down around his cock. Hongjoong did his best to fuck you through it, quickly toppling from his own height and pressing his hips flush you yours as he spilled into you.

When you had both caught your breath, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss and lowering your hips back onto the table. You whined as he slipped out of you, pouting at the low chuckle your reaction received. Before he could walk away to search aimlessly for paper towels or a tissue box you knew weren’t there, you kicked him lightly and pointed to your workbag. “Tissues in there.”

“Mind reader,” he hummed, a lilt of faux annoyance in his tone. 

“‘S why you hired me, Joongie.”

Another quiet laugh and a private smile graced your eyes and ears as he cleaned you both up, tucked himself back into his pants and handed you back your underwear. 

Most days, this was it—he’d be waiting by the door to make a clean exit and you’d see each other when you finally made it back to your desk. So today, when you finished dressing yourself and found him still staring at you, you turned your eyes to the ground bashfully. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Most days, he’d quip back something along the lines of “I don’t know, do I?” Today, he tilted his head at you and smiled.

“That piece was made for you. I think I should work that way more often.”

With another quick kiss to your lips and one to your cheek, he left the room, and you with it, heat rising to your cheeks. “And maybe I should wear ‘not business attire’ more often.”

You weren’t sure what had just happened, exactly, or why, or how serious he was about the dress being made for you—but one thing was certain; you were as weak for Kim Hongjoong as he was for you.

mdni banner | support banner | dividers

© June 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. reposting and translating of author’s work is prohibited.

[xuchiya]

barbie and the fashion fairytale [k.hongjoong]

barbie m.list || k.hongjoong || p.seonghwa || j.yunho || k.yeosang || c.san || s.mingi || j.wooyoung || c.jongho

[Author: I used to be part of a pageant or contest so writing this one brought nostalgic and I included one of my answers here during the Q&A as an inspiration for all of you. It's the one in Italic hehet!]

   As the Paris air crackled with anticipation in the grand hall of the Palais Galliera, you stared past through the high ceiling-windows of your room, just above your studio, highly strung. You were one of the designers— not yet popular but you had gained numerous audiences and had grabbed the attention of a few famous designers that included the very famous Prince of Balmain– Kim Hong joong. Incredibly, he is one of the best fashion creators in Asia and obtained the title of the ‘King of Fashion’.

“Oh my dear, please stop biting your nails.” Your sunbae at work, smack your hand gently as she pushes you to sit down on your plush bed. You sigh, unknowingly doing your habit out of nervousness. It is your dream to be recognized but presenting your art is never part of that dream, hence walking down the runway with your most proud work. 

You turn to her, “How can I not?! I’m gonna be there at Palais Galliera in 2 hours and my shit is not piecing together if I tell myself to calm down!” The thickness of your accent makes the argument commentable yet your sunbae approach you calmly as you suddenly stand up and walk back and forth. 

This time your hoobae walks in, poking his head in the door, “Uh sunbae— our call is here.” Your breath hitch, heart suddenly dropping down to your stomach as you felt your skin turn cold from the flashes of cameras and voices from the journalist. Your social anxiety is shaking to the core. That is, you felt a hand on your shoulder and a gentle squeeze following, “I cannot tell you to forget the nervousness but I can only tell you that I am proud of you and how far you come from all the hard work and eyebags you've been through.” 

Your eyes trail on your sunbae, a smile creeping on your lips as the anxiety you were feeling disappears, “No one is more proud but me. I have seen, felt and encountered each of your journeys as a designer so put your shit together and let's go!” 

 The conversation ended with you being pulled in a hug, a hand on the back of your head, “It will be okay dear…” Instantly, you relax under her comfort and nod.

  Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow on the eager crowd, a sea of bobbing heads and expectant murmurs. Hongjoong, his heart a hummingbird in his chest, adjusted the crisp black bowtie at his throat, even if he is the event-holder of the fashion show, tonight was the culmination of years of relentless work, sleepless nights, and unwavering passion of each designers that he came across this past months–nevertheless to say, he had encountered one of the amazing creators of dresses and that is where Hongjoong met you.

Not only was he amazed about your designs, no no, he is amazed because of you. You were so breathtaking in his eyes that he bumped into the parking meter and spilled his coffee on his designer shirt yet he didn’t pay no mind to it. You were combined by heaven and his favourite cloth, bundled in so much elegance that he could be seen having heart eyes. 

He contacted your sunbae about your details and your past projects and was shocked to say the least that you gave up at least 18 of your most designs to other designers. Hongjoong asked for the designs’ hardcopy— stunned and disappointed— that you chose to give up such amazing designs because of your doubts and less motivated self. 

Kim Hongjoong, a young man from Seoul, is about to present a fashion designer’s debut collection at Paris Fashion Week – the first French-Korean designer to ever do so.

His gaze swept over the crowd, searching for a familiar face amidst the throng. His family, unable to make the trip from Korea, would be watching via livestream. But there was another face he yearned to see— yours.

 Weeks bled into months, filled with late-night brainstorming sessions fueled by strong coffee and cheap takeout. You became one of his designers under his company. He became your window into the world of high fashion, his passion infectious and encouraging you to do more in fashion. A silent understanding bloomed between you, a shared dream woven into the fabric of his collection.

As the spotlights hit the runway, Hongjoong took a deep breath. The first model emerged, a vision in a hanbok reimagined for the modern world, the fabric a breathtaking fusion of traditional silk and French lace. Each piece that followed was a testament to his journey, a bridge between two cultures he called home.

As  your models were lining up on the stage, your eyes widened in realisation upon seeing the familiar dresses on their body. You hurry towards one of the staff, “Where did you get these dresses, ma’am?” 

The kind lady smiles at you whilst rolling the lint on the dress, “Sir Hongjoong returned to Paris 3 days ago after his trip back in Korea with these wonderful dresses.” 

   Your eyes met him from across the room, shining with pride and something more, a warmth that sent a jolt through him as he watched your models walk down the runway—wearing your old project designs along with your new designs showing off your tradition’s clothing merged with modern style. As the final model strutted down the runway, the applause was thunderous as you were called in to present yourself. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of relief and exhilaration. Standing in the runway with your models wearing your designs with thousands of people appreciating your hard works.

You look over your shoulders to catch a glimpse of your hoobae and your sunbae with tears in their eyes, your sunbae mouthing you 'I'm proud of you'.

Tears of joy came down your cheek to which one of your models softly wipe it making you chuckle. Hongjoong, part of the audience, felt a swarm of satisfaction and felt a pat on his shoulder as his plan went well.

He had made your dreams come true.

Later, amidst the post-show chaos, he finally found you. You threw your arms around him, the scent of your lavender perfume a familiar comfort, shocking other staff and designers so does the man that was frozen from your warmth. "It was incredible, Hongjoong! We did it!" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

He smiles, his body soon relaxes, pulling you close. "You did it," he corrected, his gaze lingering on your lips then back to your gleaming eyes.

Hongjoong wanted you to see your worth, your ability and skills. He wanted you to be proud of what you have done, whether it be a small or big achievement so he hopped on his private plane to take them back as the majority of the dresses were under the name of his clients back in Korea. 

  Hongjoong wanted your inner little girl full of dreams to let the woman you are today achieve it.

  In that electric moment, under the glittering Parisian sky, the unspoken desire between you blossomed. The city of love had woven its magic, uniting a dreamer and his muse, their love story a beautiful tapestry woven from passion, perseverance, and a touch of Parisian elegance.

Taglist: @binchanluvrr