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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

Text

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.”

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought.

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it.

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky.

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over.

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.”

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like.

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids?

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!”

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery.

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.”

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses.

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing.

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced.

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received.

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.”

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed.

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing?

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips.

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons.

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests.

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth.

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks.

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’.

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air.

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes.

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust.

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.”

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?”

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!”

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent.

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that.

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still.

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once.

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.”

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat.

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.” _____________________________

You thought about quitting.

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck.

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine.

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing.

“Hey, titty-shirt!”

The loveliness was ruined.

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words.

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction.

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!”

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring).

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.”

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.”

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you.

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house.

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.”

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.”

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?”

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers.

“Okay.”

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered.

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway.

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides.

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks.

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?”

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose.

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive.

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?”

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs.

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt.

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen.

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita.

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!”

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand.

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-”

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.”

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-”

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.”

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.”

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit.

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him.

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.”

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles.

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.”

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed.

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.”

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?”

“Yeah, evidence.”

“EVIDENCE?”

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet.

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed.

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines.

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something.

“TITTY-SHIRT!”

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic.

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely.

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at.

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?”

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled.

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.”

“Okay?”

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly.

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?”

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child.

“Alright, but-”

“Yes!”

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good.

“What happened to Belinda?”

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.”

“She has kids?!”

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins.

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean.

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork.

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight.

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way.

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?”

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours.

“I think you love being treated like a slut.”

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair.

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?”

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider.

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?”

“JEONGHAN!”

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing.

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious.

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath.

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster.

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips.

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you.

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back.

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again.

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back.

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt.

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them.

You went to work.

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing.

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic.

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.”

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little.

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate.

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans.

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows.

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached.

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm.

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.”

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head.

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips.

“I’m tired, you just go.”

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit.

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat.

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants.

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-”

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?”

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-”

“Well, then give us a ride?!”

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left.

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-”

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!”

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-”

You’re not even sure why you lied.

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!”

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face.

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-”

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child.

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted.

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?”

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-”

“Why are you crying?”

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern.

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual.

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..”

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up.

God, you were pathetic.

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately.

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face.

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar.

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-”

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him.

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes.

There was a significant pause.

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation.

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?”

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush.

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you.

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket.

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling.

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it.

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze.

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great.

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt.

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser.

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his.

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen.

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!”

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing.

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing.

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too.

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-”

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground.

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae.

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other.

His hand dropped from your lips.

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless.

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?”

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.”

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in.

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well.

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?”

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?”

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.”

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park.

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway.

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?”

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed.

“You’ll see.”

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful.

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis.

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly.

“What do you think?”

Jeonghan was looking at you.

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.”

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well.

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other.

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him.

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.”

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you.

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained.

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back.

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.”

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?”

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second.

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?”

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-”

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face.

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically.

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky.

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly.

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.”

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.”

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed.

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body.

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily.

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around.

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.”

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance.

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear.

“Jeonghan, please touch me-”

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble.

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing.

“Jeonghan, I can’t-”

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway.

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it.

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch.

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest.

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder.

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.”

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection.

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off.

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now.

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties.

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this.

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties.

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.”

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly.

“N-ngh, fuck..”

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.”

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine.

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it.

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-”

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face.

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise.

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole.

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-”

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming.

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face.

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.”

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.”

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs.

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit.

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin.

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying.

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs.

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it.

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly.

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply.

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling.

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.”

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating.

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.”

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows.

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock.

It was long and right by your fucking face.

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out.

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.”

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up.

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane.

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin.

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture.

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then.

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?”

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting.

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage.

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.”

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply.

Or almost perfect.

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you.

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.”

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue.

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly.

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth:

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

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slaybestieslay946 · 3 months

Note

luke castellan x fem!reader in the future as parents 🥺

omg i love this idea sm!

word count: 700

pairing: Luke Castellan x reader

warnings: None!

MASTERLIST

-Perfect

Saturday mornings in the Castellan household were hectic to say the least. But that wasn’t surprising, considering the fact you had a house of two kids, a dog, and an adorably idiotic husband.

And while you usually loved it, sometimes it could be pretty exhausting.

“Babe?” You called out, striding through the house, a pram in one hand and a packed lunch in the other.

“Yeah, in here honey!” Luke replied from the living room, laughing slightly at something.

You walked in to see him sat on the couch, bouncing your baby daughter on his knee while the girl laughed with glee.

Normally, you’d sit down beside him to coo at your daughter and all her little facial expressions. But this morning you had things to attend to, such as laundry, taking your son to soccer practice, grocery shopping. You didn’t have time for distractions.

“Did you wake up James this morning?”

“I thought you were doing it, and I was handling Violet?” He replied, perplexed.

“No,” You sighed, exasperated. “That was last week. You’re on wake up duty, remember?”

It was then that it appeared to click in his head, and he quickly returned the girl back to her cot, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before rushing out the room, calling out frantic apologies to you on the way.

You’d been late to James’ soccer practice because of it, and he’s missed out on collecting his player of the match award. He’d been understandably upset, and it had caused some tension in the house for the past week.

You weren’t angry with Luke per se. Irritated was probably more accurate. He’d apologised profusely to both you and James, and the boy had gotten over it when his dad took him out for pancakes the next day.

As for you, he hadn’t yet delivered his grand gesture to atone, so you were still waiting on that. One thing you did love about your husband, is that he always made it up to you, no matter what mistake he made.

And make it up, he did.

The next Saturday you woke up without the usual ring of your alarm, and instead you found yourself waking naturally out of a lazy dream. The morning sun cast its rays over your face, warming you slightly as you smiled, rolling over to face your husband. Except he wasn’t there.

Immediately you were confused, sitting up in bed and glancing at the clock. It was 10 o’clock. You were so late.

You cursed quietly, practically leaping out of bed and pulling on the nearest pair of trousers you could find.

You were in such a frantic state that you didn’t even notice Luke entering the room until he called out to you.

“Honey, please, get back into bed.”

“What! We’re late! Oh god, James is gonna be so upset, he’s missed all of soccer!” You exclaimed, turning to face him, only to see him holding a tray full of food.

“What’s that?”

“Breakfast. Please, just get back in bed, I’ll explain.” He said, a sheepish smile on his face as he herded you back into bed.

You followed, willing to hear him out, especially when he was offering you pastries and coffee.

“Is everything-?”

“It’s all sorted,” He said, cutting you off, “I took James to soccer, and then he’s going to Leon’s for a playdate. I’m really sorry for last week, you let me get away with so much, and you work so hard, so I thought I’d let you have a lie in, and bring you breakfast.”

You were speechless, staring directly into his chocolate brown eyes.

“Are you happy? Sorry for not telling you, I wanted it to be a nice surprise.”

Then you snapped out of your daze, grabbing his face and kissing him hard, before pulling back to giggle at his blushing face. Sometimes he was still like the awkward teen you had met all those years ago.

“It was a great surprise. I really appreciate it.”

You grabbed a croissant from the tray, and quickly began to sate you hunger, grinning the whole time as you tried to figure how you managed to get so lucky to call this man your husband, the father of your children.

It really was perfect.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #fanfic #writing #x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #domestic fluff #fluff

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lueurjun · 10 months

Text

shy soobin as your boyfriend

shy bf! soobin x reader — loving soobin hours rn majorly<3 in which soobin is completely and utterly enchanted and captivated by you, enamored with all that you are.

oh you lucky lucky gorgeous specimen

he is fr the perfect man but ur just as perfect so you know what? MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

the way you met is pretty standard

you worked at the barista he liked to visit frequently

he visited the coffee shop twice a day just to see you

and you had no idea that he thought u were a lil cutie patootie so you were a little concerned by his caffeine intake

he would stay and have like 3 cups each visit just so he could see you for as long as possible

most of the time he would be trying to work up the courage to say something other than his order but he couldn’t get the confidence

and despite you being concerned for his health, you lowkey HIGHKEY got excited everytime he came in because he was just so???

perfect

like you’re sure you heard wedding bells the first time you saw him

it’s okay babe so did the rest of us

we’re all a little delulu for soobin

anyways one day you’ve had enough

running off like two hours of sleep, the delirium kicks in and you have a massive burst of confidence

so you write your phone number on the cup for his final order which is to go

and soobin doesn’t notice until he gets home and taehyun spots the number on the side

“who in their right mind decided to give you their phone number? are they okay? why would they want you?”

soobin’s kinda like ??

because first of all RUDE of taehyun to attack him like that unprovoked

and second of all WHY IS THERE A PHONE NUMBER ON HIS CUP

from what he saw, you were the only one on shift making his drinks so??

it had to be from you

omg. the poor boy nearly goes into cardiac arrest

because wtf does he do now? he can’t just text you

what if it’s an accident?

there’s no way he can embarrass himself like that

so he decides to leave it despite the agonising ache to do anything but that

once he’s out of the room taehyun’s little shit mode is activated

soobin may not have the confidence to text you

but he sure does

‘hi. is this the girl from the coffee shop?”

honestly your heart shits itself

because you totally were not expecting him to text you back

‘yeah. sorry if this is weird and unprofessional. you can totally get me fired- i mean-i’d like prefer you to not but you totally can… i’m not a creep though… i promise’

you totally nailed that babes

definitely didn’t come across as a creep

already taehyun ships it and decides he has to play matchmaker because he already knows you’re perfect for soobin

so he sets the two of you up on a date

soobin damn near cries when he finds out an hour in advance

“a date? what? i don’t know how to do that”

poor boy is STRESSED

but much to his surprise, he doesn’t totally mess things up

the date actually goes smoothly and he leaves you with a kiss on the cheek after setting up a second date

you both squeal when you part ways

you’re both so cute pls get married

lemme be your maid of honour

ONTO THE RELATIONSHIP BC THIS IS ALREADY LONG IM VERY SORRY

boyfriend soobin is straight out of a book istg

he’s so awkward but in the best way??

like he’s not afraid to show you affection and tackle you with love

but the second you do something as simple as kiss his cheek

BLUSHING STUTTERING MESS

you have him wrapped around your pinky finger

honestly you could probably tell him to jump into a river and he most likely would without any questions

follows behind you like a lost puppy despite towering over everything

holding onto the tips of your fingers letting you drag him along

fancy dinners happen but the two of you are more order in and play mario kart

he’d probably let you win the first few times but the second you gloat about it

nah he’s playing like there’s 100k on the line

BACK HUGS BACK HUGS BACK HUGS

BACK MF HUGS

he loves snuggling into your neck and inhaling your scent. it calms him down for sure

you do this thing where you gently slide your hands up the back of his shirt

AND HE GIGGLES EVERYTIME

silently sharing his food and drink with you

he just holds the straw or food to your mouth without saying anything

whenever he buys you flowers, he takes one out and keeps it for himself so he knows when it’s time to replace them

you also love buying him flowers

he gently didn’t know what to do with himself the first time you did it

“these are for me? no way- you didn’t-babyyy”

can you hear my cries?

sliding down the wall rn

his instagram is pretty much a y/n fan page

like genuinely his feed is just you

visits you during work and spends half of the time flirting with you and the other half stuttering over his sentences because you threw a compliment at him

also your concerns for his health lessened once you realized he only drank that much caffeine just because he wanted to see you

if anyone tries to flirt with him, he’ll incorporate you into the conversation

the other person will just be stood there whilst he rants about all of the things he loves about you

it’s a reflex. he just loves you sm

taehyun can’t tell whether he’s happy for you both or genuinely disgusted

“the happiness i caused for you both makes me severely sickened.”

cue beomgyu popping up like “ALSO WRITING YOUR NUMBER ON HIS COFFEE ORDER? REALLY Y/N? THATS SO LAME”

they’re super happy for you both tho they just won’t admit it

you and soobin are in your own little love bubble

two hopelessly in love puppies who are destined to be together

absolutely adorable.

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epilary · 6 months

Text

your instagram when dating spencer reid near your one year anniversary part 1 | masterlist | requests open

Liked by Dr.Spencer.Reid and 49 others

y/n museum date with the best date ever

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→ jareau.j You guys look so good together, and the pictures?? Henry can’t wait to see you guys again

→ y/n i can’t wait to see him again too! such a mini spencer omg

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid I mean do you guys remember that Halloween costume? Amazing, best ever

→ sweetums I LOVE IT!!

Liked by sweetums and 42 others

y/n mini date night hosted by spence for our one year anniversary

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→ Dr.Spencer.Reid Only the best frozen pizza and sparkling apple juice for you

→ y/n i will never get over it as long as we’re together

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid Then prepare for a week of frozen chicken nuggets

→ y/n i’d do it forever if it meant we were together

→ sweetums If you guys get any cuter I may just up and die

→ derekmorgan This is downright disgustingly sweet

Liked by prentiss and 28 others

Dr.Spencer.Reid A flower for each moment we’ve said ‘I love you’ (10/03/2024)

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→ y/n AHH THIS IS ADORABLE, i love you so much

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid Do I need to add another flower?

→ prentiss Calling me single in every language. also I swear Reid, you’re hair is just getting wilder every day

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid I know, y/n has been pressuring me to get it cut

Liked by y/n and 19 others

Dr.Spencer.Reid We just had to see a few more museums together (10/20/2024)

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→ y/n the way you talk about history is just >>

→ sweetums I’m going to need to figure out how you’re so perfect for Spencer, it’s crazy

→ AaronHotchner. Glad you liked the one I recommended, the fossils were Jack’s favorite

Liked by Dr.Spencer.Reid and 49 others

y/n a little relaxing morning with the best guy ever

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→ Rossi The two of you have to come over and make pasta with me

→ y/n we definitely will David! your lasagna the last time we were there was delicious

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y/n most attractive guy ever

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→ prentiss Can’t believe Spencer found the best girlfriend ever

→ y/n thank you so much my wife

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid @y/n Excuse me??

→ prentiss Sorry, we’re married now

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid Most attractive woman!!

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid And my sweet sweet girlfriend

Liked by prentiss and 30 others

Dr.Spencer.Reid Trust me when I say that she’s just the best (11/01/2024)

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→ y/n wow you’re such a sweet talker, and NO YOURE THE BEST

→ Dr. Spencer.Reid Only for you :)

→ derekmorgan Pretty boy has finally found his match and it’s amazing

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid Thank you, I never thought you would say that

→ y/n he’s just saying it cause you no longer drag him to museums >:/ punk

Liked by sweetums and 28 others

y/n THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! for once i’m going to be super cheesy here and say that i’m so happy to have met spencer and can’t believe it’s been just over a year together. such a fine ass man

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→ prentiss Ended it better than I ever would’ve thought to

→ y/n thank you, figured it would be the best way ti show my feelings

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid I love you too, call me after work

→ Dr.Spencer.Reid Miss you a lot

→ y/n i’ll call very soon :D

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds instagram #criminal minds #spencer reid instagram #spencer reid social media au #social media au

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Note

You've got me on an Eris kick now oml

Could I request an Eris brat tamer fic please?

Reader is a healer coming into his court to serve him now that he is high lord. But she is also kind of chaotic and free spirited which gets under his skin but he loves it none the less. Reader is just a feral little wood herbalist that steals his heart but he needs to tame her 😂 honestly just have fun with it, throw in some sexual tension and flirting in and I'll be happy as a clam

Thank you for all you do! I hope everything in your world is a bit brighter from your last update 🩷

-leaf anon 🌿

Sucker for a brat.

Eris x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; smut (18+) , brat taming. The smut is towards the end and I've marked where it starts.

Hello leaf anon!!! I'm so happy you're back! I was thinking about you the other day and suddenly you requested this and I was like "Omg I summoned the leaf anon". Hope you enjoy this!

It was the second time that Helion begged you to go to the Autumn court as a healer. The first time you immediately told him no, saying that you had way too much respect for yourself to serve Beron, and Helion accepted that and didn’t press the matter. Now though that Beron is dead, and his eldest son Eris became High Lord you couldn’t find any excuse to deny. So, you packed your few stuff and left for the Autumn court hoping that Eris is nothing like his late father.

The moment you stepped into the Forest House you cursed under your breath. The house more like palace was huge, and you were sure that you would get lost at some point. A maid approached you with a kind smile on her face.

“Welcome to the Autumn Court” she said, “The High Lord is waiting for you in the throne room”.

You snorted and mumbled “Of course” before following her.

You entered the throne room and glanced around, everything was covered with red and brown ornaments, five huge chandeliers were hanging from the ceilings, decorated with rubies and sapphires. A red narrow carpet covered the path between the door and the huge throne on the dais. Your breath hitched at the sight of the High Lord sprawled on his throne, his thighs spread wide, and his head cocked to the side, his eyes were scanning you and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Hello little fox” he purred.

You scowled and stood in front of him, bowing your head in a mocking way. Amusement filled his eyes and the smirk turned to a mischievous grin.

“Oh I see, we’re going to have way too much fun” he said.

“I’m here to do my job, you can have fun on your own… my lord”. You replied.

The maid gasped at your reply and hurried off with her head bowed.

“Y/n my dear is this the way to speak to your high lord? I can have your tongue for that.” He purred.

His attitude and the velvet in his voice made your insides burn, and you hoped he didn’t notice your arousal.

“My apologies my lord I didn’t mean to bruise your ego.” You smirked.

The smile left his face, and he cleared his throat.

“Nissa is going to show you to your room and infirmary” He spoke and pointed at the door, an old female was standing there, her tired honey eyes fell on you, and she smiled.

“Enjoy the rest of your night” you smiled and left, not missing the glare he sent your way.

You winked at Nissa and strolled past her to the big hall.

“So where is my room?” You chirped.

“Follow me my lady” she chuckled “it seems like the high lord found a perfect match”

You snorted at that.

“I just don’t really like the authority… all those high lords are so cocky and demanding. Why can’t we all appreciate the magic in us without all those laws and regulations” you huffed.

“Those laws are what keeps us from being savages” she smiled, and you shrugged.

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate the system that Prythian has, you just wanted to be free to make your own choices and create a life you enjoyed.

She stopped in front of a wooden door and looked at you.

“This is your room, the infirmary is on the other side of the house. I will come get you in the morning and take you there.” She said and bowed her head before turning around and leaving.

“Good night” you shouted and opened the door.

The room was slightly smaller than the one in Helion’s palace, but you didn’t mind it, it looked cozy, and you didn’t even have that much stuff to fill it.

All the furniture were made from wood, a big bed was set in the middle of the room, the headboard against a chestnut-colored wall and a small coffee table was placed next to the big window across the door. You walked inside and hummed when you noticed a door that led into a bathroom. You placed your bags on the bed and started unpacking. The closet was full of clothes, their style and color screamed autumn court making you roll your eyes.

After you were done unpacking you took a hot bath and then laid on the bed, you knew you had a long day ahead and you needed to rest.

To your mortification your dreams were filled with a certain high lord bending you over his throne and wrecking your body.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

Eris was sitting on his throne, his hands shaking with annoyance. He couldn’t believe the way the small female spoke to him, she has a fire in her that’s for sure and he knew that being around her would challenge his own fire until he exploded. He thought about all the ways he could make you shut up and each one of them made his cock harden. The way you looked didn’t really help with his arousal, you were a sight for sore eyes and Eris felt a primal need to claim you even though he only saw you once.

He rubbed his face and started walking towards his room stopping in front of your door for a moment. Your sweet scent filled his nostrils, and he clenched his fists. He shook his head and hurried off to his room. The moment he walked inside he stripped his clothes and grabbed himself pumping fast and hard, letting all the annoyance out as he came on his stomach with a groan.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

You woke up frustrated, your dreams flashing in your eyes making you groan. You got dressed in one of your day court dresses not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you in Autumn colors. As if on cue Nissa knocked on your door.

“Good morning my lady, I’m here to take you to the infirmary” she smiled when you opened.

“Good morning Nissa, please call me y/n I don’t like the titles” you snorted.

“Of course” she smirked and started walking.

“What are you smirking about?” You asked.

“Our high lord likes females with strong spirits”.

“Well too bad those females don’t like him” you chuckled.

Nissa shook her head and grinned.

You walked past the throne room, and you peeked inside, no one was there.

“He is out on a hunt” Nissa said.

“I don’t care”.

“Okay”

You really wanted to slap the smug look off her face but she seemed like a nice person, so you just clicked your tongue.

You reached a room without a door and walked inside, a large table was set in the middle, the wall across the door was made of glass, offering a view of the forest bellow and a counter filled with bowls and tools was placed against it. You hummed with excitement and approached the counter. You examined the jars filled with different types of herbs and picked a piece of paper and a quill. You wrote down what else you needed and gave it to Nissa.

“I will need those things”.

“Okay I will send someone to get them. Do you need me for anything else?” She asked.

“No, I’m okay, I will make some basic ointments in case something happens and we don’t have enough time” you smiled and picked an apron.

“If you need any help just give a shout” she said and left.

You grabbed two plantain leaves and placed them in the mortar and began squashing them with the pestle, adding some oil now and then and humming a song your mother used to sing to you. You were so lost in the rhythm and in the healing power that was flowing out of you into the ointment that you jumped when you heard the barking of hounds. You peeked outside and saw around 8 hounds running towards the gates of the house, they kept spinning around and barking towards the woods. You furrowed your eyebrows and moved closer to the glass, trying to see what had them so excited, and there he was… Eris emerged from the trees, dressed in a maroon tunic decorated with rubies and tight pants. His red hair a mess from the wind and his face flushed and filled with mischief.

He lifted his gaze and his eyes fell on you, a predatory smile taking over. You rolled your eyes ignoring the shivers and returned to your herbs.

As you stirred the ointment adding more oil you felt his presence in the room.

“High lord” you greeted without looking at him.

He came next to you and sat on the counter.

“What’s this?” He nodded to the mortar.

“I’m making an ointment, this is used to address infections and heal both burns and wounds, it also helps with insect bites.” You explained and opened a small container to pour the substance in.

Eris hummed and gripped the container keeping it still to help you.

“Thank you” you said once you were done.

“Any particular reason why you decided to make an ointment for burns?” He smirked.

You gave him a questioning look and he placed his finger beneath your chin pushing your head up and exposing your neck more.

“Are you afraid that I’m going to burn you little fox?” He purred.

You huffed and smacked his hand away.

“I’m not afraid of you my lord”.

“You should be” his voice was even deeper and raspier than before.

“I doubt that” you rolled your eyes.

In a blink he had you bent over the counter, his hand hovered above your ass and his face rested against your shoulder. You bit back a moan and grabbed the edges of the counter.

“Careful how you use your tongue little fox, you won’t like the consequences” he growled.

Your brain stopped working and you arched your back.

“Who said I won’t like it” your voice was low and sensual as you spoke making him groan.

“Don’t play with this fire, even your ointment won’t be able to save you afterwards” and with that he was gone.

You stayed bent over the counter for a few minutes trying to process what just happened. You only met him last night and the need to have him was already making you mad, you couldn’t imagine surviving here forever or at least until he found another healer and released you from your duty. You couldn’t focus on making any more salves or ointments, your power felt uncontrollable and with a sigh you removed your apron and left the room.

Nissa was fixing some paintings on the walls of the big hall, she took a step back and smiled when she saw you approaching.

“Are you done with your herbs?” She asked.

“Yes couldn’t really focus, so I only made one” you shrugged.

Nissa smirked and nodded knowingly.

“Do you usually pry into your high lord’s life or you just want to get on my nerves?” You huffed.

“I raised him child, I know him since the day he was born. I just want him to be happy.” She spoke.

“Aren’t you afraid that he is going to punish you if he finds out what you’ve been saying to me?” Your question was genuine and Nissa could tell.

She sighed.

“Eris is nothing like his father, he respects his people, and he is trying to make his court a better place. Most of us speak freely without any fear from the moment Beron let his last breath. Others are a bit skeptical about Eris, but they are slowly trusting him.”

“You really believe in him huh?” You quirked a brow.

“He is the savior of this court.” She said and turned back to the paintings.

“Where is lady autumn?”

Nissa smiled lovingly “at the day court, she left the day you came.”

“She went to Helion?” You gaped at her.

“Yes Eris told her that he didn’t mind, that he wants her to be happy so she left” Nissa looked at you again “close your mouth child you’ll catch a fly”

You scowled at her and left with a huff ignoring her soft giggles.

This time you didn’t peek into the throne room, you just marched into your bedroom lost deep in thought. Eris’ scent was still on you, making your thighs clench and your heart skip a beat.

Just when you thought he couldn’t get any hotter, Nissa proved you wrong.

With a groan you fell on the bed and pressed your face against the pillow.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

Eris was sitting on his throne watching as his advisors bickered with each other about taxes and how they could make more money. They didn’t say that clearly, but Eris could tell this was all they cared about. He caught your scent as you passed the throne room and his breath hitched. His mind going back to the moment he had you bent over the counter, he noticed how you bit back a moan and how your waist arched lifting your ass further for him. He had met strong females before, but they never crossed the line that would make them brats. You on the other hand were way past that line and his body ached to tame you. His cock hardened at the thought, and he huffed interrupting his advisors, the older males stared at him in question.

“The taxes are fine, we don’t need that much money anyway and my people won’t be able to survive another raise. Meeting’s over” he announced and got up, fixing his crown to make a statement and leaving the room.

As he was walking towards his room, he heard a door opening and then a snort. He turned around and his eyes narrowed as he spotted you.

“Nice crown my lord” you mocked and started walking the other way. To be honest you didn’t know why you mocked him, he looked extremely hot with that crown on his head.

In a blink his strong hand gripped your elbow, and he turned you around pressing your body against him.

“I would believe your mockery if you weren’t drooling” he smirked and leaned closer, his nose almost touching yours.

“You wish” you challenged him with a matching smirk.

He grabbed your jaw and squeezed your cheeks.

“Do I need to fuck the brat out of you?” He growled. Your whole body wanted you to scream yes and fall on your knees for him but the wicked side of you took over and you gripped his neck squeezing lightly.

“You couldn’t even if you tried” your words muffled by his grip on your jaw.

His eyes flashed with dominance and a wicked smile appeared on his face, he moved his free hand and grabbed your wrist removing your hand from his neck and pinning it above your head. Ropes of fire kept your hand in place, and he grabbed your other hand too, giving it the same fate. He kicked your legs open and placed himself between, his strong body pressed against you and his bulge grinding on your thigh.

“I’m going to ruin you little fox” he purred and started biting and sucking the soft skin on your neck.

You let out a soft moan, and clenched your eyes shut.

Eris picked a dagger from his belt and cut the bottom of your dress in one swift move, he pushed the sides behind you gaining access to your needy heat. You were clenching onto nothing, and whines left your lips.

“Stop whining little brat, do you think that you deserve to be touched?” he growled and knelt in front of you, his fire keeping you in place as he grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders. He darted his tongue over your swollen clit.

“Please Eris, I’ll be good” you cried out.

He removed his face from your heat and lifted his eyebrow.

“How did you call me?” he asked, and you gulped. You fucked up and you knew it.

“I’m sorry my lord” your voice barely above a whisper and filled with need. You usually wouldn’t act like that, but his dominance made you want to be a good girl for him, and the predatory glint he had in his eyes promised you a good time.

He latched on your clit again, adding pressure with his teeth and making your whole body tremble, his tongue moved between your folds and started fucking you.

You were a moaning mess, the sloppy sounds of his mouth on your cunt and the cold touch of his crown on your thigh only added to your pleasure.

“Please my lord” you cried out not sure what you were pleading him for. You ground your hips on his face and he let out a growl, his strong hands moving to your hips to keep you steady. The growl sent the perfect amount of vibrations to your nerves and you felt your release approaching.

“You wanna cum on my face little fox?” he hummed.

“Yes yes oh please yes” you screamed and the moment your pleasure reached its peak he stopped. The ghost of his touch still there as he watched your eyes filling with tears. His wicked grin was back.

“I’m going to ruin you” he purred as he got up and grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. He untied the laces of his pants and took himself out giving a few slow pumps before lining up to your entrance.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, he was huge and leaking.

“Red means stop” he informed you and slammed his hips on yours. You felt like he was cutting you in half and you let out a scream.

“That’s it, keep screaming for me” he breathed and began snapping his hips at a punishing pace. The hall was filled with your cries and the sound of skin slapping. Your cries could be heard everywhere in the palace and especially in the throne room where his advisors were gathering their stuff. The sounds made them furrow their eyebrows and exit the room to see what was happening.

One of the males gasped at the sight of you making Eris whip his heard in their direction never stopping his thrusts. They started walking to the other side where the gates were. Eris lifted his pointer finger at them.

“No. Stay and watch as I punish the little brat” he growled, and the males froze. They gaped at the two of you.

The whole scene if front of you made your blood boil in pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum my lord” you moaned.

“Hold it” he gritted his teeth and began thrusting harder and deeper.

One rope of fire moved in the top of your dress and slithered around your nipple while another one toyed with your clit. You were seeing stars, your screams were even louder. Making two of the advisors moan as they palmed themselves.

“Leave. Now” Eris snarled, possessiveness taking over.

“Mine” he growled in your ear making the bond snap and that was your undoing.

“Let me cum my lord please” you begged. “Cum” he ordered, and your body trembled.

“Oh Eris” you cried and arched your back, your head pushing against the wall as the pleasure took over, you felt like you were floating.

His thrusts flattered and small grunts left his throat.

He snapped his hips once, twice and then buried himself deep inside you, warm ropes of cum painting your walls as his cock throbbed.

“Fuck” he growled and pressed his forehead on your shoulder.

You were breathing heavily. Exhaustion taking over and you closed your eyes to calm down.

“I’m not done with you my sweet little mate, this was for my own pleasure that’s why you enjoyed it. Now I’m going to fucking punish you.” He growled and carried you to his room.

“Oh boy” you sighed.

Third time writing smut. What do you think?

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yaksha-lover · 4 months

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i’m obsessed with the thought of vil falling for someone who’s ugly. especially if it’s a forced proximity trope. triple points if it’s enemies to lovers!

there’s just something about a guy obsessed with beauty is shown that beauty doesn’t equal to value that melts me

omg i actually was obsessed with this concept a few months ago and i wrote a very short unfinished drabble (set in medieval au) about knight!vil falling for ‘ugly’ knight!reader but i didn’t think anyone would want to read about an ‘ugly’ reader 😭😭

i definitely agree tho the concept is so perfect for vil imo. like the idea of this guy who’s so fixated and obsessed with beauty (especially one who’s potentially been told that much of his worth lies in his looks) who ends up falling for someone very unconventional completely unintentionally. like theres’s a whole internal struggle in him that he doesn’t want to fall in love with this person. they’re an enemy, and unattractive at that.

but then he just can’t help but falling in love with their character; when they give hope to him and represent a goodness that he’d lost. someone who is called ugly and unwanted everyday by the world and manages to keep their head held high even if tears are pouring down their cheeks.

i think that’s a quality he’d admire a lot; kindness even when the world has been unkind. he wants to be good like that too. in a way, you’re like a mirror of the kind of goodness he wants to see in himself. you’re made fun of and put down at every turn and yet you do not let that stop you from being nice. whenever someone mocks vil, he can’t let it go, he can’t let himself be kind because it hurts and that’s the only protection he’s found.

also the idea of consciously thinking someone is unattractive but unconsciously starting to notice their eyes and lips and desire settling in- help-

unfinished drabble under the cut 👉👈 (also its fem reader bc i think medieval gender roles and the idea of ‘ugly’ woman x hot man couple is kind of important to the theme lol - aka this is just jaime x brienne rewritten but anyway-)

Vil truly believed you were ugly when he first met you. He almost never truly meant the term, but in this case, it was appropriate. Most everyone you encountered agreed. He could tell by how you’d stayed stone-faced at his cruel taunts, apparently used to it. Your features were just a bit too extreme, too out of place, too different. He’d used your appearance against you, scratching at every insecurity you’d thought of and probably some you hadn’t. Still, you hadn’t gotten angry as he’d hoped. You didn’t seek to harm him, even when he knew he’d struck a sore spot.

He persevered, but you’d never given in, despite his hopes that you would become blinded enough by anger and pain to give him a chance to escape. He admired you, in a way. It seemed as though life had beaten you down long before he’d come along, but a hardened rock had emerged from the erosion.

Sometimes his words would cut too deep for you to ignore. You never did anything rash, to his dismay, but he could tell they affected you. He didn’t feel bad; why should he? He was your hostage, and you his captor. Even if you were performing your duty, you were getting in the way of his own responsibilities, his life.

Vil was surprised to learn that you were a high-born like himself. Well, not exactly born to a family of his status and wealth, but a high-born nonetheless. He’d realized that he should’ve been addressing you with your Lady title, but you’d fought at soon as he’d tried.

No matter my origin, you know that no man sees me as a lady, Sir Vil.

They came, and they cut off his hair. One of them taunted him for being a beautiful husk. So they’d cut a deep gash across his face. Now your outside matches your inside, ‘Sir’, they’d mocked.

Vil had wished they’d cut off his head instead.

Later, after you’d managed to convince them to let you treat his wounds, he’d bemoaned to you.

Now we’re both grotesque, he’d said, a pair of freaks.

You’re not ugly, you just have a scar, you’d replied. You turned away from your task to face him. You’ll never know what it means to be ugly.

Even with his bitter remarks, you treated his wounds all the same. When he was too afraid to face himself in the reflection of the lake, you’d been the one to peel away his bandages and force him to look.

See, you’d said, not a monster, just a man.

He’d wondered if you were an angel at that moment, a saint. Or maybe you were a witch destined to lead him astray. He hadn’t really cared either way.

#twst medieval au #twst x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twst #twisted wonderland #feverish-dove

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bruisedboys · 6 months

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Your characterization of the marauders is spot on for all of them!! Ok, here are my insane thoughts about Remus in no particular order:

- he’s obviously insecure about his scars, but nothing makes him feel better or more loved than when you trace them softly or kiss along one of them because you think he’s beautiful no matter what and you need him to know that

- he’d be the perfect boyfriend around the holidays, helping with baking and taking you around to see the lights and always making sure you have a warm drink and letting you borrow his sweaters because you just look so beautiful in them and doing a gift exchange where he gives you the most thoughtful gift ever because he always listens and always remembers every little thing you say

- he’s a great chef and he’ll never let the boys know, and as much as he loves taking you out and showing you off, his favorite dates are at home where he cooks a nice meal and you cuddle up to watch a movie after or he’ll read to you (omg his voice would be all soft and a little scratchy ahh)

- bookstore dates are the best, and you’ll go and pick out a book for him and he’ll pick one out for you and if it’s nice you’ll go read in the park or on your back porch but if it’s cold (like it is now) you’ll curl up on the couch together and read for the whole afternoon, just enjoying being near each other

- lately I can’t stop thinking about dad!Remus, he’d be so great while you’re pregnant and he’d read all the baby books and he’d baby proof your apartment and he’d get you whatever you needed or wanted at any hour of the day all while being stressed beyond belief but he’d never let you know that when you have much more important things to worry about and once the baby comes, she’s got him wrapped around her tiny little fingers (because he’s obviously a girl dad) and just imagine this tiny little baby being held so gently by this tall, deceptively strong man

- also I have some very detailed thoughts about book store reader x single dad Remus if you’d like to hear…

omg so many good thoughts thank you angel!!!! I will be thinking about all of these for the next 2-5 business days…..

- ok firstly YES. bf is very insecure about his scars but you tell him they’re pretty and make him look really handsome and he just loses it!!!!! the second you kiss or even just caress one of his scars he melts. also if you’re ever insecure about your own scars/stretch marks/other marks on your body he’ll show you his and be like but look :))) we’re matching babe :))))

- yes he is so christmas boyfriend!!!!! he’s such a good gift giver because he remembers everything about you and yes his gifts are always so thoughtful!! I feel like he’s very into handmade gifts too! I’m imagining a handmade clay vase or something like that. or a wooden jewellery box. omg!!

- real!!!! he cooks the best homey meals (domestic!remus 😵‍💫) like pasta dishes, soups, homemade bread. omg bread is definitely his speciality and he’ll make it fresh for you at the drop of a hat if you’re craving it <3

- bookstore dates!!! stop I am literally swooning. you and him will do a little game where you don’t let the other person see what book you’re getting until you’re out of the store and then you present it to them once you’re out!! he has the best taste in books so you always know it’ll be good 😌 and then when you read together he’s always gotta be touching you, your legs in his lap or his hand on your thigh, sometimes he’ll even lay in your lap!!!

- dad!remus will actually be the death of me. for some reason the idea of any of my favourite characters being dads just awakens something feral inside of me. he’s definitely the best ever when you’re pregnant!!! you better believe he’s doing everything for you, you’re not allowed to lift a finger babe. he’s very protective of you too, very gentle with you and aware of anything and everything that could hurt you or the baby even a tiny bit. if you’re emotional or sick or just having a really rough time he always holds it together for you, never losing his patience and always reminding you that you’re incredible and strong and he loves you!!! also also he loves his friends but he doesn’t let them rub your tummy or talk to the baby for too long, that’s his baby thank you very much 😇

oh em gee I’d love your thoughts on bookstore reader x single dad!remus 🤭 all of your thoughts so far were soooo good and fuelled my brainrot successfully

#I love you sweet angel anon!!!!!!#remus lupin #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin thoughts #remus lupin hc #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin headcanons #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin thought #remus lupin drabbles #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction

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pianostarinwonderland · 19 days

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People are making fun of the luxe outfits but I think they’re pretty decent, there was thought put behind them.

Omg thank you for saying this anonie 😭😭 if you weren’t gonna send this in, I would have made my own post on it

I get why the outfits didn’t hit right at first. I saw the live 2D of Azul’s outfit and got a bit sad at first since the way the sleeves fell and the way the jacket framed his body didn’t look super flattering (plus I was sad it wasn’t a tailcoat ahahahahah). This is coupled with the fact that among the three, Azul fits the least in those colors hahaha. Those aren’t bad colors by any means, in fact, as someone who’s gotten a color analysis and came out with autumn as my best color palette, those are suchhh perfect colors for me. But Azul doesn’t fit those at all, especially the light brown. Heck, even if you just flipped the colors of the jacket and the dress shirt underneath, he would have looked so much better since dark colored tops work better with him in general than light colored ones (unless we’re talking silver/lavender/light blue, Those fit him very well).

Jamil and Ace are lucky in that they do fit the color palette better. People also just took issue with how Jamil’s pants look very wide.

But honest thoughts? I find that they do look good, especially when considering the theme of the event, and the event itself has listed the reasonings behind the designs of their outfits.

I think we have to remember that this is high fashion, hence the fits won’t hit with the majority of the fandom, who don’t really follow that kind of fashion. Jamil’s fit, especially with the wide pants, is common to see in fashion, and really to be honest, when we take into account of his character and personality, wide pants fits Jamil more than slim pants. Plus, in the event, the reason for that kind of fit is because of Vil’s profile for Jamil that he sent to the designer: a plain or humble guy who worries a lot in the background, to which the designer adjusted to a humble guy who behaves in moderation (from @mysteryshoptls).

Ace’s fit hits well with many people because it matches a lot of trends and classic fashion tips that we, especially younger people, like to see: slim figure, an emphasized waist, cropped top. It matches his description that Vil gave of him being an immature potato 😂 or the designer’s adjusted version of him having that fresh new student feel (also @mysteryshoptls).

Azul, now I will say he’s just a victim to the live2D not doing him any service. 🥲 The sleeves fall very stiffly, and the jacket doesn’t seem to frame him well. But you can see in his SR how the outfit is meant to look and shine:

The sleeves are meant to be very flowy especially when he’s walking and making dramatic gestures with his arms (something that he does a Lot in his live2D). His jacket as well is meant to be that long so that it would look like a trail (??? English isn’t Englishing rn) especially when he’s walking or making big movements. In other words, Azul’s outfit probably doesn’t stand out too much at first. But the moment he brings out the drama, the drama of his fit shines and amplifies his theatrics, thus attracting people. It sort of matches Vil’s profile for Azul is a scammer, and the designer adjusted it to a mysterious person who charms people (also @mysteryshoptls).

There’s a lot of thought put into the design, and I love them so much. I still find the colors a bit of a tragedy personally, only because it’s not Azul’s best colors, but thematically, considering the event story, it makes a lot of sense. I’m excited for what happens later on in the story and what they’re going to do in the film festival :3c

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst jp #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #ace trappola #vil schoenheit #ask

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hinaaspanda · 1 year

Text

shall we dance? | l.jy

pairing: hiphop dancer! lee juyeon x ballerina! fem reader

warnings: 18+ content, swearing, mentions of alcohol and falling asleep after getting too drunk lmao

genre: rivals(ish) to lovers, fluff, angst if you squint, smut: fingering, breast worship (idk what it’s actually called, he just kinda spends his time on that area hnagdja), cowgirl, praise

wc: 9,381

Lee Juyeon was never someone you considered as a teammate. Sure, you were in the same dance team, but your minds and personalities were worlds apart from each other. He was stubborn and childish, while you strived for perfection; it was a match made in hell. So imagine your reaction when your dance instructor appoints the two of you to work together at the school’s annual dance fesitval! Will the two of you survive?

a/n; hi again! I’m back with my first ever fic for the boyz! i had to write abt my bae juyeon omg fhkdufhusgf. it’s just in time for juyeon month too! anyways, enjoy!

God was testing you, that was for certain.

“Do either of you have any questions?” Your dance instructor gazed at you with doe eyes, genuine curiosity plaguing her features. You, meanwhile, were fighting every urge to scoff right in her face. As a matter of fact, you did have just one question.

What the hell was going on?

“We’ll be fine, Mrs. Kim. We won’t let you down!!” A second voice peaked through your ears. A voice that irked you beyond belief. That voice in question? None other than the personified headache on two legs—Lee Juyeon. The man you’d be trapped with for the next week, choreographing a dance in a genre you knew nothing about. Hesitance lining your frame, you nod to your instructor before she concludes the meeting and escapes the dance practice room. On the outside, you appeared calm and collected, hardly disheveled by the current news. Inside, however? You were screaming and panicking.

To fully relish in the horror of the situation, you have to understand how much of a nuisance Lee Juyeon really was. The two of you could not have been further from each other. You see, Juyeon was not one to care for perfection—to say he was tardy would be an understatement. The hip hop major would show up to team practices on his own terms, which usually meant about 20 minutes past the actual start time, complete with an iced coffee from the convenience store down the street. He would never fail to spend the rest of your joint practice time fooling around with his little goons, cracking jokes that deserved an eye roll—if not more. You, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than perfection. You worked your ass off for a seamless, perfect performance every time, and Juyeon would do nothing but taint that.

You and Lee Juyeon. A ballerina and a hip hop dancer. There was no doubt you two were worlds apart. So, how the hell were you two supposed to work together?

A groan spilt from your lips as you pivoted, turning away from your so-called dance partner. This was all just some sick, torturous dream. None of this was real. Soon, you’d wake up in your comfy bed; in a reality that didn’t involve this duet of nightmares.

“y/n! Wait up!” His voice peaked in your ears again—nails to a chalkboard. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think? I’m going home!” You spat, pivoting back to face him. “Do you really believe we’re gonna be able to work together? We’re complete opposites, Juyeon. Knowing us, there’s no way we’d be able to co-operate. And don’t even get me started on that insane deadline! How are we supposed to get anything done in 5 days?”

Juyeon inches closer to your figure, his hand clinging onto the nape of his neck. “Look, I’m not too stoked for this, either, but it wouldn’t hurt to try and work together.”

You choke, expecting anything but that response. Since when was Juyeon so willing to cooperate? “Are you serious?”

Juyeon nipped at his lips, pausing. His eyes bore through you—there wasn’t a joke in sight. “Almost everyone in our team gets along—except us. It’ll improve our overall teamwork.”

You gulp. Juyeon’s caught you tongue tied. Were you even listening to the same man you knew 5 minutes ago? You look up at the dancer, finally granting him the light of day. His eyes, however, were already on you, practically piercing through your skin.

“I promise, y/n, I won’t let you down.”

His words; they were weird. He’s said that exact phrase already—to your dance instructor after she bore the two of you the bad news. Nevertheless, this time felt different. They felt more genuine. Could you really trust him?

You gulp once more. “Fine.”

As you sat on the bus ride home that night, you gaze at your phone. Your digital calendar was littered with timestamps and reminders; the chaotic schedule you and Lee Juyeon had planned for this god forsaken performance. It was funny, the conception of this small schedule was already enough to spark an argument between the two of you, with him deeming it to be completely useless. May it be the first argument of many.

Your chest, meanwhile, began to tighten at the thought of him. Today alone, it was as if he’d changed over night, flipping on his head like an airplane in turbulence. In the three years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so considerate, so thoughtful. It made you queasy, sick to the stomach.

Would you even be able to survive?

Juyeon’s car was stuck in the parking lot.

It wasn’t because of poor weather conditions or a case of bad traffic, however. On the outside, everything was fine. Completely normal. And yet, Lee Juyeon couldn’t be bothered to set his car in reverse and drive out of his cramped parking spot. The reason?

Lee Juyeon was stuck on the thought of you.

He wasn’t really sure why, if he was being completely honest. In his mind, you were worlds apart—aside from dance, there was absolutely nothing tethering you two together. The y/n he was familiar with was the definition of uptight and cranky, rarely uttering a word to the people she was supposed to regard as teammates, apart from maybe one person. It was as if the concept of ‘fun’ or ‘relaxation’ were unavailable in your robot itinerary. Your only hobbies consisted of endless practice—hell, you practically lived in the studio—and scowling at Juyeon every time he called you by his nickname.

It was weird. Despite all of that—your reputation and bitter attitude—Juyeon found a burning sensation creeping in his chest every time he thought about you. Every time he walked by the studio well after practice was finished for the day, only to see the cheap lights still flickered on, with your figure still on the dance floor; it was as if motivation burned through his chest. When it came to you, Lee Juyeon didn’t feel the urge to slack off, to skip practice for the day.

He didn’t want to let you down.

Juyeon cleared his throat, adjusting himself in the driver's seat. Motivation. Yeah, that’s it. That’s all it was. It explained the sudden urge to even go through with this performance in the first place. It explained the burning sensations in his chest. Pushing his car shift forward, Juyeon backs his car out of the parking spot he’d been loitering at for what felt like an eternity. The lights of his dashboard blinded him, sending his sorry ass back to reality. A reality where he wasn’t constantly thinking of you. The stone cold princess from another world.

First practice and Juyeon was already driving you insane.

The ivory stained fabric crashed onto the ground, but your fingers were too limp to give a damn.

“You want my number?” You quizzed over your shoulder, too lazy to properly face the boy lacing up his shoes. “What for?”

“I dunno, so we can, like, plan stuff or something?” Juyeon suggested, too busy admiring his own features to spare you a glance. You watched as he lifted a hand to gently stroke his jaw, a self asserting smirk lining his lips before finally giving you the light of day. “Shouldn’t we be, like, talking more for this thing?”

Lacing up your hair away from your face, you shot eagle eyes at your reflection. You wanted to ignore Juyeon’s words, how they were beginning to convince you. And yet, for some reason, you were struggling to do just that. Without hesitation, you curl your body into your first stretching warm up of the day. Never in your life did you think Lee Juyeon wasn’t right. He never was.

“I didn’t know you were so keen on communication” You huff, rolling your eyes. You refuse to make eye contact with Juyeon, though it was something you’ve been struggling with lately.

“Well, I happen to think communication’s key for good teamwork!” the dancer boasted, completing his arm stretches as he sauntered towards you. “What if things change at the last minute, and you have no other way of knowing? Wouldn’t that just make you more stressed?”

Pausing your stretch routine, you nip at the skin of your lips. Only now did you notice a particular figure standing practically flush against you. Your shoulder mere millimeters before his chest. His head dipped close to your cheek, with barely a sliver of space in between your two frames. You barely noticed all of that. And yet, you did almost immediately notice the deep resin of Lee Juyeon’s voice cradling your ear.

“We wouldn’t want our princess getting stressed, now would we?”

Your heart was racing—unwantedly so. What was with that switch up? And don’t even get started on that very new, very weird nickname. You felt your breath shorten, quickening with each second you spent trapped in Juyeon trance, his territory. You were frozen, only managing to move by small increments as you slowly turned to face him. Gazing at your dance partner, you couldn’t help but notice how fast the skin of your cheeks flared up. How quickly your mind drew to a blank. Where on earth did this new Juyeon even come from?

And why were you hesitating to run away?

"W-what are you—" you stutter out, your voice a hush.

Suddenly, a wide and devious grin stretches on Juyeon’s face, his eyes turning into full crescent moons. He huffed out a chuckle before quickly bending down to grab a pen from his bag. You were still so frozen, you didn’t even have the willpower to disobey what he said next.

“Give me your hand,” He requests innocently, a complete 180° from how he was just 5 minutes ago; pure evil. Still not fully out of your trance, you shove your limp hand towards his chest, practically spacing out as he cups your palm in his giant hand. Juyeon scribbles the pen onto your skin, the friction tingling against you—but you didn’t have the resolve to admit you were ticklish. Finally, he lets go of your hand, the lack of warmth lingering in your brain a little longer than you thought it would. Sealing the stationary back up, Juyeon shoots one final grin your way before tossing the pen back in his bag. You glance down at the back of your palm; 10 digits and a poorly drawn heart right beside it. You scowl, though it was really only to hide your rapid heartbeat.

“I’m gonna kill Professor Choi, just watch,” Kim Sunwoo grits through his teeth, holding his head in his hands as he continues to drown in the sea of physics homework. You watched as he slowly regressed further into the floor, the layers of worksheets giving him actual, attainable pain. Your own stack of unfinished assignments was nothing to scoff at, either. With your brain too occupied with the dance festival performance, you had just a sliver of time to actually sit down and work on your assignments.

You watch as Sunwoo trudges upwards, sludging to your kitchen and opening your fridge as if it were his own. He pulls out an emerald can, cracking it open on just one hand. “I’d hate to be in your shoes, though. How do you even balance all this with dancing?”

“Please, don’t even get me started” You leaned back, your arms holding you up as you stretched from your criss-cross position. “That dance festival is more of a pain in the ass than you could ever imagine”

“Oh yeah, right. How’s that going, anyways?”

Your best friend's words had the audacity to summon your brain, to reel your thoughts back to the first practice you’ve ever had with Lee Juyeon. The way his figure was mere millimeters away from yours, his breath grazing your cheek. The way his hand practically swallowed yours whole as he wrote his number on your palm—against your better judgment of staying out of touch. The cheeky little smile he shot at you before wisping away, beginning his stretches. It all stained your brain, plagued you with a madness you couldn’t explain. An unfamiliar swirl danced at the pit of your stomach, as graceful as you would during a dance practice accompanied with little to no sleep the night before. Lee Juyeon was making you sick

You gulp, The crescents of Juyeon’s eye smile in particular staying in your mind for longer than you anticipated. Suddenly, the rubbery texture of an eraser crashing into your nose jolts you awake. “Oi, y/n!”

Clearing your throat, you sit up straight. You needed to get those thoughts out of your head. Fast. “Right, yeah-”

“You’re falling for that Juyeon guy already, I see,” Sunwoo smirks, his eyebrows wiggling infuriatingly. Your eyes spill from their sockets, jaw dropping to the floor.

“What? No! Are you crazy?” You sputter, fidgeting and spazzing like a tree struck by lightning. You chuck your pencil case straight towards his chest; a reflex for his stupidity. Your brows drill to the center of your forehead as you whip your head towards your beloved best friend’s direction. “How do you even know he’s my partner?”

“My lab partner, Jaehyun, rooms with him,” Sunwoo takes a swig of his coke before diving back into his worksheet—or more accurately; his phone. “I guess Juyeon talks about you a lot. I heard he already made his move on the first practice,” Sunwoo said through giggles.

Your chest tightened, that same image of the dancer swimming into your brain. Did he actually talk about you? And why did that even matter?? You steal Sunwoo’s drink, dipping your head back to take in the whole beverage in one fatal swoop. Crashing the can down onto the table, you clear your throat again. “He didn’t make his move okay? He just asked for my number.”

“Well, did you give it to him?” Sunwoo leaned in, curious.

You paused, your breath stuck in your windpipe. You gulped again. “No, are you kidding?”

Almost immediately, you shoot up from your spot on the floor. Stretching your back, you zoom to the kitchen, embarrassment cringing in your chest. You weren’t really sure why you lied. Maybe you were just in denial. Or maybe you just wanted to forget it all. You rummaged through your pantry, diving head first into the snacks you barely even remember purchasing. At least now they served some purpose. You pull out some cheese puffs, obliterating them within seconds. One thing you were completely sure of, is that Sunwoo was anything but right.

You were not falling for Lee Juyeon.

Back at the table, moments before Sunwoo contemplates actually trying to get some work done, a ping pops from your phone. Curiosity overtook him, and seeing as though you were busy digging a hole through your pantry, Sunwoo took it upon himself to open your phone. A silver bar falls from the top of your phone screen, the name sending Kim Sunwoo to the heavenly gates of pride.

Lee Juyeon [7:58 pm]: what time u showing up for practice tmr?

Your best friend was a grinning idiot for the rest of the day.

Juyeon wasn’t at all surprised when he heard music playing from the practice room already. He knew exactly who was in there, practicing to perfection.

He stopped himself just before the practice room doors, his eyes trailing your reflection in the mirror. You were so focused, you couldn’t bother to notice his figure standing right at the door. He leaned against the wall, watching as you moved to the delicate music, your footsteps so nimble they hardly touched the floor. His eyes followed you at every twirl and wide-legged jump you performed, his chest tightening at the sight of you.

Lee Juyeon was in awe.

Toying with the velcro strap of his gym bag, Juyeon’s eyes were physically incapable of leaving you. He wanted nothing more than to watch you dance, to thrive on the dance floor. The burning sensation in his chest soon sunk down, fluttering just above his stomach. Without realizing, his heart raced every time you twirled to the music. Juyeon gulped.

Was he falling for you?

Slowly, Juyeon took a step into the practice room, chucking his bag into the closest corner he could find.

He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Currently, you have about eight days left before the performance.

And yet, you were distracted as ever.

The music rummaged through your brain like a gofer to dirt—drilling holes into the parts of your brain that stored its logic and critical thinking. Sweat beaded from the crown of your head—it was natural, considering you’ve lost count of the times you’ve practiced your routine. You twirled into Juyeon’s embrace, your hand in his as he spun you below his arm. The two of your bodies; a well oiled, factory grade machine as you danced under the starry night of the studio room. Effortlessly, each limb guides one move into another, as your two figures near the end of your performance.

You two halt your movements, standing still in the center of the wooden tiled floor. This practice was the utmost crucial; it was the first time you and Juyeon would practice the high point of this whole performance, the main event—the lift.

The act in which one dancer, usually the stronger, grabs their partner by the waist and lifts them above the air. It’s an incredible feat that only the most impressive dancers can truly surpass. Nervousness overtook you, your skin freezing to ice. You’ve never dared to do something so rash, so bold in the entirety of your dancing career.

Could you even do this?

“Are you ready?” A voice chimes in, shocking you awake. Your eyes shoot to the mirror to see Juyeon ghosting your back, his chest flush against your shoulder blades. You gulp, taking extra notice at his hands; most innocently placed at either side of your waist—bare, due to your haphazard ability to get ready in the morning. His fingers felt rough, callous against yours, a metal ring stationed at his middle finger sending more chills down your skin. “y/n?”

A lump jumps out of your throat. For whatever reason, your vocal chords seemed to be sealed shut, no words sliding from your lips in response. Not thinking much of it, your dance partner chuckles at your silence before pulling his hands away from your skin. Something your chest twinges at the loss of his touch, but you chose to ignore it. Juyeon moves to stand right in front of you resting a hand on top of your head as he sends you a smile.

“Don’t worry, I got you, okay?” Juyeon boasts, curling his bicep in a flexing position worth all of the eye rolls on the world. “I worked out extra just for this, you know.”

You hated how easy his words made your stubborn eyes peek at his figure. Your breath hitched, only now noticing how muscular Lee Juyeon really was. You already knew he towered your stature, but only at this very moment did you realize just how built his shoulders were. Your eyes glided down to his hands, equally—if not more—muscular than the rest of his body. The exact same pair of hands responsible for holding you by the waist, sending your figure soaring through the air. An image of that exact occurrence replayed in your mind like a broken record.

With your cheeks flushed beyond belief, you snap your head around, concealing your pathetic figure away from the stupid hip hop major. “Shut up, Juyeon.”

One hesitant nod was all it took before Juyeon’s hand latched onto your waist once again. You gulped. It was a perfect fit. With one last glance at you, Juyeon shoots your body into the air, lifting your frame over his head with his arms. You couldn’t believe it; you were soaring amidst the puff of clouds, defying all of the pitiful limits of human nature. You were flying, it was amazing.

Until it wasn’t.

In about T-minus 10 seconds, reality shook you to your core. You were, in fact, 6 feet in the air, with nothing but a pair of oddly strong hands tethering you to the ground. You were going to die, undoubtedly so. Your body shivered in fear, your hands reaching for Juyeon’s like it was a life source. “Wait—put me down!”

Within seconds, Juyeon listened, propping you back down to the ground. Your body was flush against his, arms knotted around his neck as one of his forearms clung tightly around your waist—never daring to let go. Your heart was jumping out of your chest at the near-death experience. Juyeon’s eyes never pull away from you, worry and fear swelling in each pupil. It was as if all of the immaturity and childishness you associate him with had disappeared from his being, leaving an actually soft, and caring character in its wake. “Oh my god– are you okay!?”

Due to your life literally flashing before your eyes, only at this exact moment did you notice how close you and Juyeon were. Mere millimeters hung between your faces, his raspy breath grazing your skin. Only now did you notice how tight Juyeon kept you against his body as you hung from his neck. An uncomfortable swirl stared at your stomach again, your chest beating rapidly. The two of you stood still; just like that for what felt like ages. The music that accompanied your practice session slowly fading away. It was just you and him. Nothing else in the world surrounded your two frames.

A part of you, however, didn’t completely mind it.

You clear your throat, your two figures jumping apart as you did so. What the hell were you thinking? You hated Lee Juyeon. Everything about him; from his work ethic to his stupid eye smile. Your eyes drill to your feet, realizing that you have yet to answer Juyeon’s question.

“I’m okay.”

You expected the boy to start teasing you. Maybe he’d comment on how ungraceful you were—very unnatural for a ballerina. Or maybe he’d start laughing at you. It was a normal thing to anticipate. But was anything ever normal when it came to Lee Juyeon?

You already knew your answer.

Cotradictingly, Juyeon’s palm gently patted the crown of your head, lightly ruffling the locks of your hair. He shot you another eye smile—a ray of sunshine you needed to protect yourself from. “That’s good, I’m glad.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why do you care so much?”

His eyes never managed to leave your gaze. “Come on, is it so weird that I care about my dance partner?”

You pull your gaze away. “Yes.”

With a soft chuckle, Juyeon flicks your forehead. “Well, too bad. I care about you, dummy.”

You stayed silent. Why was your heart fluttering?

Checking the weather app was simply useless, not with the rain droplets crashing into the walls and windows of the campus lobby.

You looked through the glass, defeat pulling your shoulders further into the tiled floor. Bussing home in this weather would be near to impossible with the harsh showers. And what makes it all worse? A quick check on your bus app only lets you know how late your designated bus is; approximately 20 minutes.

The jingle of keys creep up from behind you, summoning an eye roll almost immediately. You didn’t even need to turn around to know who the owner of the metal even was—it had Lee Juyeon written all over it. You scowl, hugging your body as you continue to face away from him. He probably was only here to flaunt how unfucked he was, a strong contrast to how fucked you were.

“How are you getting home?” Juyeon speaks up anyways. Typical.

“Bus.” You murmur, turning to him. “Look, if you’re here to tease me or something, save it. I’m not feeling it.”

“Woah! Okay, for your information, I wasn’t planning on teasing you.” Juyeon throws up his hands in defense, as if you held him at gunpoint. “In fact, I was gonna ask if you wanted a ride.”

Your eyes lit up for a second. A ride. Protection from the outdoors. It was everything you’ve ever wanted. You clear your throat. No. This was Lee Juyeon. It didn’t matter if he was being considerate, or sweet even. This was anything but what you wanted. You needed to get a grip.

“I’m alright, thanks,” Your voice was soft, hesitant.

“You sure?” He quizzed, your silence overwhelming him with his answer. He huffed a sigh, pausing before unzipping his bag and rummaging through the fabric. “Suite yourself, but you should at least take this.”

Dropping his gym bag, Juyeon inches closer to you. For a split second, his arms wrap around your frame, sending a sharp inhale through your chest, your chest which had already felt tight since he first moved closer to you. His warmth lingered in your mind. The sounds of crashing rain began to fade away—though the skies never cleared up. It was as if you were hallucinating, moments away from losing your mind. After a few seconds, he opens up his arms, draping fabric over your shoulders. It was an instant warmth.

“What’s this?”

“My jacket—you’ll freeze to death if you go out like this!”

You glance down at your outfit; a cropped sweater made from some cheap fabric, and leggings summoning anything but warmth. Your partner was right, you weren’t prepared in the slightest. “Oh… What about you?”

You gulp. Since when did you care?

“I’ll be fine. I’m driving anyway. Plus, I’m still pretty hot from practice.”

You felt a specific heat creep onto your cheeks, until you realized that Juyeon was only talking about sweating. You idiot. You hide behind the fabric, eyes trailing the ground. “Uh, thanks.”

He pulls your—or, more rightfully, his— hood over your head, patting the crown gently. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but feel this weird swirl at the pit of your stomach. “Take care, y/n!”

Currently, Juyeon’s friends were congregating on his couch. The objective of this meeting? Planning the house party that was set for this weekend, the last thing on the list being who they were going to invite. Though Juyeon had his own, more personal objective; to stop thinking about the most recent practice with you—it’s been plaguing his mind all afternoon. And he was failing. Pathetically.

“What about y/n? Should we invite her?” Juyeon heard his own voice through his confused ears. His mind—all proper reasoning—was clearly lacking behind; he could tell from the confused stares that were plastered on all of his friend’s faces. Clearly, Juyeon missed the memo on “close friends only” being this party’s apparent theme. Could anyone really blame him, though? In his very weak defense, he was too caught up on the thought of you to listen.

“Park y/n? Your dance partner for that festival thing, right?” Lee Jaehyun, his roommate and best friend, cocks an eyebrow; perplexed beyond belief. “You sure? I heard she's a little weird.”

Juyeon grew the slightest bit bitter at his roommate’s words, though he couldn’t explain it.

“Oh yeah,” Ju Haknyeon, another one of Juyeon’s friends, chimed in, his back leaning into the plush of the beat up couch. “She’s in my psych. class this term. She’s always got her hand up like her life depended on it, bro. It’s kind of creepy, if you ask me.”

Juyeon could feel his knuckles tensing. Who was he to call you creepy?

Kim Younghoon, the last of Juyeon’s clique, leans forward, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth like a complete mouth. He didn’t even bother to swallow before chiming in. “I heard she’s a total pain during your guy’s dance practice—Changmin’s told me a few things, anyway. Is she always so bossy around you guys?”

A flame rose in Juyeon’s chest. His friends were making it infuriatingly clear; they didn’t know jack shit about you. With his hands subconsciously rolled into fists, Juyeon rose from the couch, towering over his careless friends. In all honesty, it took Juyeon every fiber of his being to not punch the living daylights out of each and everyone of them. Though, again, he couldn’t pinpoint the reason.

“Okay, no, you guys got it all wrong,” Juyeon began, startling the three boys below him. “y/n’s none of those things! She’s not weird or creepy, she’s just smarter than you could ever dream of being. She’s confident and strives for the best. And when it comes to dance, no one on that team has the strength and power that she has—she's one of the best dancers I know!”

Juyeon’s voice grew soft. Gentle. “y/n—she’s amazing.”

Juyeon didn’t realize just how out of breath he was until he finished his little performance. His body just acted on its own; a habit he’s seemed to have picked up since he got to know you. His three friends were practically in shock, their jaws grazing the carpet they stood on.

“Damn dude—I didn’t know,” Jaehyun muttered in a hushed voice, genuinely terrified for his life. “How come you got such a soft spot for her?”

Juyeon nipped at his lips, his chest rising. Though he didn’t know why.

He gulped. Who was he kidding? He’s known the whole time.

“‘Cause I like her.”

“You don’t get a choice young lady!” Sunwoo’s voice peaked a little too powerfully through your phone’s speaker. You winced at the volume, though he couldn’t care less. “You’re going to that party!”

The party in question? The house party, located at the Lee Juyeon and Lee Jaehyun residence. The reason why you were so hesitant in going? The one and only Lee Juyeon giving you a personal invite, of course.

You didn’t have a clue at what sick game Juyeon was trying to play with you. To your understanding, this last minute performance should have only kept the two of you as close as coworkers from a typical 9-5 would be. You had no intention of keeping in touch with the childish and irritating dancer, absolutely none. So, why should you even consider saying yes to that absurd invitation. And besides, with certain recent events still replaying in your mind unwillingly, you thought it best to avoid seeing the hip hop boy for more than you needed to. You knew all of this, but why was Sunwoo so slow on piecing it together?

“Why are you so pent up about this?” You groaned. “You care about that party more than I do!”

“For starters, going to any party’s going to increase your chances of making more friends. And, like, you can’t only have one friend in uni, y/n. That’s kinda sad.”

“You’re literally that friend, asshole,” you mutter, seriously considering changing that notion right now.

“Doesn’t matter, you need to go out more! Live a little! Life isn't just about school and dance, you know?” Sunwoo sounded genuine, though his next words were a complete slap in the face to that notion. “Plus, you can be my wing-woman so I can get a date at this party.”

You groan, drowning in Sunwoo’s infuriating chuckle. Minutes before you were about to hang up on him, unsolicited, your best friend chimes in again.

“And besides… I have a sneaking suspicion you’re starting to warm up to that Juyeon guy.”

You choke, not once expecting that name to come out of Sunwoo’s mouth. You hate to admit it, but you weren’t so sure if Sunwoo was wrong anymore. You never looked at him with the same fury you had just a couple of weeks ago. He never showed up late to your practices and actually took in the feedback you gave him. You could barely recognize the guy, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. The image of his stupid eye smile pops in your brain again, and you huff a groan.

“What makes you say that?” You ask anyway, practically swimming in denial.

“‘Cause you, Park y/n, have finally stopped denying it.” Sunwoo answered, a smug grin swiping across his face. Shit. Could he really see right through you so easily? “The old y/n would’ve shut me up immediately, you know.”

You gulp. How stupid were you? “Shut up.”

“Guess it’s settled!” Sunwoo practically jumped for joy, you could sense it through the phone. “I’ll pick you up at 8!”

Note to self: never listen to a word Kim Sunwoo says. It’s a lesson you learnt the hard way.

You push through the seemingly endless wave of university students, the stench of booze drilling through your nostrils. The neon lights pierced your eyes, you were convinced you were about to go blind. Though, you figured going blind wouldn’t have been so bad at the moment; you wanted nothing more than to unsee the poor puking freshman on your right, or the horny couple making out on your left. And worst of all? It seems that Kim Sunwoo had just disappeared into thin air; you couldn’t find him no matter where you searched.

This was bad. Really bad. You see, Sunwoo wasn’t lying earlier when it came to not having any other friends. In fact, you were currently drowning in a sea of unfamiliar faces. You contemplated how the hell someone could know so many people. You, on the other—more unfortunate hand—only knew one other person. A person that could’ve gone to the moon and back by now; you’d be none the wiser.

You clung onto the red solo cup as if your life depended on it. In reality, you knew one other person at this house party.

But was your heart ready to face him?

Truth is, your mind hasn’t stopped wandering to the image of Lee Juyeon ever since that last practice. The way he held you in his arms, lifted you in the air; it all stained your brain. The way he danced with you; elegant and graceful. His form and vigor when he completed each and every step of your routine; it never failed to give you butterflies. The way he reassured you at every sliver of worry that shined through your brow, or the way he protected you from such small things like the rain. He was there to comfort you; to shine a sliver of sunlight your way. To make your grumpy ass, smile, just once.

Maybe it was working.

A glimmer of bronze liquid shot down your throat. It burned. What were you thinking? Falling for Juyeon? You couldn’t.

So why were you sitting on his goddamn couch? At a house party he invited you to?

Another big gulp slides down your throat, your tongue numb to the taste this time around.

Before inviting you to the party, Juyeon contemplated your alcohol tolerance. It was natural, considering the amount of booze set aside for the party was nothing to scoff at. However, once the party was nearing its end, and with only a few people left at the Lee Residence—Juyeon definitely had an idea or two. Though your napping figure on the couch was a dead giveaway.

Your figure only took over ⅓ of the couch, your body curled into a ball as your head rested on the back of the furniture. Your knees were tucked into your chest, your arms wrapping around them like the ribbon to a Christmas present. Red solo cups were littered around the floor and around you, most toppled over; all of them empty. Who knew you were the type to drink so heavy? Juyeon swiftly stripped off his zip up, draping it over you on instinct.

The more Juyeon looked at you, the more his heart pounded.

Juyeon placed himself on the couch—right beside you. The weight of his figure pulled yours further down, your head dropping down onto his shoulder. Juyeon’s face ignited, he’s never felt more happy to be in a room without people. He leaned closer to your frame—it was warm, toasty. Your breath reeked of booze, but for some reason, it didn't matter right now.

He stared at the way strands of your hair fell between your eyes, your eyelashes that could sweep the sky. It was something he never witnessed during your practices, mostly because you wouldn’t give him the chance to be near you. You were so stoic and cold normally, seeing you so soft and delicate was beyond new. You made his heart flutter. He couldn’t help but notice how soft your lips were, how they practically glistened under the living room lamp light.

He wanted to kiss you.

A snore pushes from your figure, jolting him awake from his delusion. You hand, practically limp, inching closer to his so innocently.

He couldn’t kiss you. Not like this.

“Oh my god, there you are!” A voice pops up from Juyeon’s right. The figure of a sophomore—presumably Kim Sunwoo appears. He turns his attention to him. “Hey, sorry about all this. It’s y/n’s first time at a party like this… I should’ve been more careful.”

“No worries,” Juyeon smiles. His hands ghost your shoulders, a tremor in his movements. “She’s, uh, safe with me.”

“I think our ride’s gonna be here soon, could you maybe gimme a hand?” Sunwoo runs a hand through the nape of his neck. Juyeon only nods, his attention rushing back towards you as he senses a soft touch grazing against his finger.

It was you, fidgeting with his fingers in your sleep, completely unaware.

God, you were killing him.

Gently, Juyeon shuffles around, picking you up from the couch in a way so desperate to not wake you up, and follows Sunwoo out the door with you in his arms.

You were about to make your way into the dance practice room for your final practice that week when an image stopped you in your tracks like a deer in headlights. It was Juyeon. He beat you to the practice room, rehearsing his part of the routine before you even showed up.

You caught your bag moments before it hit the floor. You would have never expected someone like Juyeon practicing extra. Hell, you were surprised he actually showed up to your scheduled practices to begin with.

You found yourself stepping back to watch Juyeon dance. Your eyes were in a trance, spellbound by him. You couldn’t get over how fluid and elegant, yet powerful his movements were. It didn’t matter how much of a slacker he was, one thing was for sure: Juyeon never lacked in a performance. Your chest tightens at the sight of him as you gulp. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and his skin tight black shirt, with gray sweatpants hung snug at his hips. Nor his hair, practically drenched of sweat as it hung over his eyes.

Why couldn’t you stop looking at him?

Were you actually falling for him?

A water break. A calming water break. That was all you ever wanted. Instead, you got your mind split eight different ways.

A sudden warmth ghosted behind your shoulder. Juyeon’s chest brushes right up against your shoulder blade, his palm lightly clinging onto your waist as he slithers past you to grab his water bottle that was right beside yours. Your skin jumps straight into goosebump hell, sparks skidding off of the surface—fireworks. Juyeon’s hands were warm to the touch, a stark contrast to your frozen figure. You hated how soft his skin felt. Your heartbeat skyrocketed, your systems rebooted. All because of a little touch. You’re pathetic.

“Excuse my reach,” he said, infuriatingly innocent.

You wanted to scream at him. You drank your water instead.

After moving away, the two of you stood in silence, only the music of your performance looping every now and then. You thought it was normal—considering you’ve practically spent your entire time at school hating this man, it was natural you didn’t have much to talk about. Though, clearly, Juyeon thought it peculiar.

“Are you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

You snort. “You say that like we talk often.”

Juyeon looks away from you. “Well, maybe I want us to talk more.”

Your heart was thumping rapidly again. You grip onto the fabric near your chest as an effort to slow down its pace. A failed attempt, anyway. The pit of your stomach fluttered at his smooth words. You, however, didn’t give way to his request, staying silent as you gulped down more of your water. Maybe then Juyeon would stop shaking you up so much.

“Oh, wait—stay still, y/n,” Juyeon’s voice popped in your ears once again. You watched as his hand swerved up towards your forehead. You felt his fingertips brush up against you, the back of his hand sliding down your cheek as he detangled strands of your stubborn hair. He huffs out a chuckle, eyes never leaving your sight. “You’re hair’s a little wonky–”

You weren’t fully recovered from the last unwanted touch from Lee Juyeon, circa 2 minutes ago. That was for sure. You’ve had it. You’ve had enough of his teasing. You needed answers. With your chest still ablaze, you swat Juyeon’s hand away, leaving the boy all doe-eyed and confused. You ball up your fist, pivoting to stand right in front of him. To stand your ground.

“Just stop!” Your voice boomed. Your chest heaved as your eyes drilled through his. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean, I’m just—”

“I’m not just talking about this, I’m talking about everything! Why the hell are you so sweet to me? Why do you go out of your way to take care of me? Are you trying to toy with me or something? God, you’re driving me insane, Juyeon!” You utter, defeated. You fiddle with your sleeves, steam practically poofing from your ears.

Juyeon huffs a sigh from his chest, slowly taking steps around your agitated figure. “For your information, I’m not just toying with you.” He gazes at you from the reflection of the dance mirror, his voice traveling from behind. “I do genuinely care about you, y/n. I want to be sweet to you, I want to do all of those things. I like you, y/n”

I like you, too, you thought.

Though in reality, you choke, your heart caught in your throat. You couldn’t seem to look away from him as you gulped. “We can’t like each other, Juyeon,” Your voice was a hush. “We’re too different. We’re worlds apart.”

“I’d move worlds just to have a chance with you.” Juyeon rasped, his voice cradling your ear.

Your eyes widen. Your heartbeat was overpowering your ear drums. All you could hear were the constant thumps of the muscle. And all you could think about was Lee Juyeon. Suddenly, that same warmth cocoons your shoulder blades and your chest tightens. From the reflection on the mirror, you watch as Juyeon’s fingers brush against your wrist, moving down to your fingers. You watched as his left hand stayed with yours, as his right switched paths and landed on your bare waist. Your breath hitched.

“Juyeon, we can’t…” You practically whimpered, not having the strength to finish.

Juyeon’s lips were mere millimeters from the shell of your ear. “Are you sure?” His right hand suddenly lifts and begins to trace small shapes against your waist, his touch tingling you beyond belief. His left hand lifts your limp wrist right up against his lips. Instead of looking at your reflection, Juyeon looks right at you—the real you—before his voice drops to barely a whisper.

“Make me stop, then.”

Juyeon kisses your wrist, pulling away your sleeves as he peppers soft kisses against your skin. With his right hand, his strokes against your skin grew stronger and wider, his index toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. You squeeze your eyes shut, your face flush as your stomach flutters. Your head was spinning, you rested it on his collarbone. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t stop.”

Chuckling, Juyeon drops your hand, his palm cupping your cheek as he spins you to face him. Your breaths grew shallow at the sight of him. His eyes deepened as they gazed into you, pierced through you. You watched his breaths falter just like yours, picking at his lips and gulping before he speaks again.

“Can I kiss you, y/n?”

“Please.”

That's all it took for Juyeon to dive into you, encasing his lips into yours. It was rough and rugged. As if he’d been restraining himself for years, maybe even centuries. With one hand still cupping your cheek, another one of his hands cross your back, pulling your figure up against his chest. Your hands, which were once clinging desperately onto the fabric of his sleeves, now roped around his neck. Your hand snaked towards his head, your fingers toying with a lock of his hair. On command, Juyeon grunts, his grasp around you tightening. His hold on your lips tightened with it.

Butterflies exploded at the pit of your stomach. It was as if a burdening weight had been lifted off of your shoulders—you were practically floating in the air. You didn’t have to hide anymore, you didn’t have to run. You could say with pride.

You liked Lee Juyeon.

“That was amazing, you two!” Your dance instructor beams as you and Lee Juyeon saunter back into the dressing room, heaving and sweating. The two of you had just finished your performance for the school’s annual club festival; a standing ovation. Your dance instructor was jumping with joy, swiping through the unfocused pictures she took of the performance with her phone and her unstable grasp. After mumbling something about letting the school newspaper know, and giving the both of you quick hugs, she runs out the door—leaving you two alone.

Your eyes gaze upon the vanity mirror, eyeing your performance dress. It was covered in loose red sequins, you were a shimmering flame. A few detached sequins were scattered atop your shoulders—and Juyeons. They most likely came off while dancing, jumping onto his black, tight fit blazer, complete with red accent pieces and a particularly low set neckline, exposing his bare chest. You wouldn’t be lying if you said you had snuck in a look or two. Juyeon looked too good to pass up.

Besides, it seems like he’d say the same thing right now.

Juyeon’s eyes drilled through you. His figure slowly inched closer to you, his hands hugging the edges of your waist once he got close enough. It seems as though it was his favourite place to hold you—and you didn’t mind. It gave you butterflies every single time. His lips traced your jaw, peppering a small kiss before whispering in your ear. “You look beautiful, y/n.”

You hum a chuckle, sliding a hand up his chest and around his neck. “Too bad my dress is coming off soon.”

Juyeon’s eyebrows shoot up to the sky. “That was bold.”

You smack his shoulder. “Not that! I meant that the dress isn’t mine, dumbass. I’ll have to change out of it before I leave tonight. You, too!”

“Oh right.” Juyeon deadpanned, pouting before a light bulb buzzed from the crown of his head. After his steps cause you to move backwards, Juyeon lifts you slightly and plops you on the surface of the vanity desk. With his hands on each of your thighs, Juyeon leans forward, his face barely a centimeter apart from yours. Your lips, just breaths away from his. “Maybe I can be of some assistance?”

“You’re so dumb, Juyeon.” You punch his chest with no actual force. In truth, you wanted him, right then and there. You ball up his collar into your fist, pulling him in for a kiss. A groan lifts from your chest as you cling around his neck. Juyeon moves closer to you, ever so slightly spreading your legs apart. His hands, still on your thigh, trail up the skin, his fingers peeking through the hem of your skirt. His touch elicits another moan from your lips, making you pull from your kiss.

“Juyeon” You whimper.

Juyeon cups your cheek. “Not now, baby. I can only have you for myself. We need to go somewhere private.”

Your breath hitched. “Then take me home.”

Your skin was on fire as Juyeon laid you on the plush of your bed. Lee Juyeon was cruel—giving you a taste of him right before making you wait. Juyeon leans into you, deepening the kiss, a hand sinking down into the mattress beside you. His tongue swipes at your lips, demanding for an opening. You grant it, his tongue dancing inside the walls or your mouth. It slides against yours; a performance of bliss. You moan, your arms clinging from underneath his shoulders, your grip growing tighter. You weren’t going to let him slip through your fingertips. You weren’t going to lose him. Not again.

Juyeon’s hand wandered mischievously, his touch teasing you. One hand pressed against your bare thigh—it didn’t take him much to get you in just a shirt and panties. He traces your skin slowly. Painfully slow. His other hand slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, moving straight to the swell of your breasts. He took your breast in his large hand, massaging your skin. He takes your nipple in his fingers, swirling the tip with his pads. It sends your head spinning, your back arching and your chest pushing closer to him. You mewl at his touch. You needed more.

Your lips pop apart, swollen from the pressure. Juyeon wouldn’t dare to look away from you. His hands move again.

“Does this make you feel good?” His breath was hot and heavy—it burned against your lips. You barely muster a whisper. “Yes—more.”

He pressed another hand right on your other breast, playing with your nipple. It sent you soaring, dirty noises lifting from your lips. It was a sight for sore eyes, seeing you so pent up just for him. Juyeon replaces his hand with his lips, peppering kisses all over your breast. Claiming it as his own. He takes his sweet time, leaving love bites and hickeys trailing up and down your skin. His lips envelope your center, his tongue swirling your hardened peak. Your moans grow louder as you grip a lock of his hair—sending him into overdrive. He groans into your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

His hand was merely centimeters away from the place you needed him most. Your core was throbbing, aching for his touch. It soaked the wimpy fabric. You grip his hair harder, growing irritated from how much he was teasing you. Juyeon only snickers, lightly pressing into your clothed folds with his thumb, sending shockwaves down your body. “How bad do you want me, baby?”

You subconsciously jut your hips forward, pressing his thumb ever so slightly further into your core. You were getting restless. “So bad, Juyeon. I need you—everything.”

After teasing your clothed core, Juyeon pulled over the wet fabric, leaving your pussy bare, open. Slowly, Juyeon pushes a finger into your core, his pad dancing in your walls. You sharply inhale at the length of his fingers. Fuck, his hands were big. His calloused knuckles grazed your insides. A moan jumps from your lips as Juyeon pumps in another finger—filling your core up more. The thrusts of his wrists grew faster, your walls coming in tighter, moments before collapsing at his touch. You prop yourself up, looking down to watch the dirty image of Juyeon’s hands fucking your pussy mindless. Juyeon pumps a third finger, curling all three of them as he reaches deeper inside you. Your core was throbbing as you failed to stifle all the dirty noises leaping from your throat.

You instinctively thrust into his hands, making him reach more. though you didn’t need to try too hard; not with Juyeon’s long fingers fucking you deep already. Juyeon’s lips swipe at your jaw, peppering kisses and tracing his tongue around your skin. You were convinced you were seeing stars. But you knew Juyeon wasn’t done just yet. Juyeon’s thumb begins to swipe circles around your clit. It was the same motion your head was spinning in from the bliss of his touch.

Your walls tightened around his fingers, his thrusts grew rampant and primal. You threw your head back—your body was out of your control, now. It was all his.

“Juyeon,” you said his name without realizing.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me.”

And you did. With one last groan of his name, you came undone by his fingers. Your juices coated his palm, as well as a little pool in between the wrinkles of your innocent bedsheets. After gaining just the smallest bit of consciousness, you look up at Juyeon. A tent of fabric propped up right below his torso.

Just then, you had an idea. Gathering up all of your strength, you pushed Juyeon down into the bed. You climb over top of him, his clothed bulge rubbing against your raw pussy. You pressed a hand down his chest, dipping your head to whisper in his ear. “Can I ride you?”

Juyeon groans, gripping onto your hips. “Fuck, yes.”

You tug down at his waistband, and the two of you work together to pull down his pants. His length reveals itself, throbbing at a stiff peak. It caught you tongue tied. There was a reason his hands were so big. You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you unrolled the condom. The latex summoned a groan from him, his finger digging into your skin. You positioned your entrance at his tip, a stark inhale running through your chest as you finally sunk into his length. Yours and his moans intertwine, dancing in the night sky as you began your slow thrusts.

Juyeon’s cock grazed against all of your walls, the friction was driving you insane. He filled you up, fucked you deep. He throbbed into your walls, exploring you deeper than you could ever imagine. You wanted, no, needed more, thrusting faster into his length. He was hitting all of your spots, he was perfect. Lewd noises circled around your bodies; your skin slapping into each other, the premature juices webbing in and out of your core, the repeated calling out of each other’s names. Juyeon’s grip on your hips grew tighter, his forearms tensing to bring you closer to him; to bring him deeper into you. Your thrusts grew dirty, readjusting yourself to get more power in each thrust using your feet. Juyeon brings a hand behind you, palming and massaging your ass.

You could feel your walls clamping in again, tightening around his cock. Clearly he could feel it, too. It was obvious with the way his hips push forward, his head drilling into the pillow. Though it wasn’t long until you had your head thrown back—drowning in ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re tight, y/n.” Juyeon rasped in between grunts. Though you were too busy in your own world. You only mewl, thrusts becoming messy and unpampered. “Your pussy feels so good, it fits my cock just right.”

Juyeon sneaks a mischievous finger to rub your clit again. He drilled against your sweet spot, your mind trapped in a haze. A dream just with Lee Juyeon. With one last conjoined moan, the two of you crash into each other, cumming in unison. Your hot juices overflow, pooling between your two figures.

Exhausted, you plop beside him. He greets you with his signature eye smile—one infecting you personally as you smile back at him. He encases your frame in an embrace, his forehead wiggling into the crook of your neck. “You did so good, baby.”

You embrace him back, butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach. “You dummy.”

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