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#love the blue flower the most i think

void-kissed · 1 year

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"I know I'm struggling to fit the role.. Isn't there anything to make me whole? And I can stomach it, or so I'm told - but, promise me you'll hold me so I'll live through the night?"

Somehow I managed to start working on this render and then finish it within an hour, oops?? It.. maybe doesn't quite fit the vibes I was trying to go for from the caption, but I think it still turned out nicely, so hopefully it's alright to post ^-^

(Anyone is welcome to comment on or reblog my work if they wish, as long as my DNI is respected!)

#a call from the void #creations from the void #made using MMD #OC selfshipping #this post is okay for anyone to reblog as long as my DNI is respected!#selfshipping #heart of the void #love: crown of clovers (clio)#selfship: of flowers unchained (clio/aria)#self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria)#this is.. possibly the first render i've made using clio's new outfit I think?#she does still wear her original outfit (the one with the blue jacket) but i kind of think of it now as an ''old''/''previous'' outfit #because I prefer this new one so i want it to be her most recent/current one #anyway shoutout to snorlaxin's premade poses for enabling this to be created within the hour haha #if you click on the caption it'll take you to the song it's from. the song very much does not fit the vibes the render ended up with #but at the same time it's fitting for something coming up in fatebreakers so.. it stuck. also ASTERIAN sounds SO GOOD in it #anyway the idea was aria's in a bit of pain and clio's helping her through it. 'cause you know heartless and all

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liquidstar · 1 year

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hiii everyone i finished my newest oc batch :) the dragon tree guild members. Their guild puts a special emphasis on nature, plants and animals and all that. their guildhall is also built inside a huge tree in the forest (the dragon tree!) which has earned them the explanatory title of “the greenwood guild.” but for more info about each character itll be under the cut as usual!

Name: Uranus

Name Origin: The planet whose name means “sky”

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 83

Guild rank: Guildmaster

Weapon: Censer staff

Ethos (Power): Daze. Creation of a dark fog that robs those within it of their senses

Flaw power is based on: Her dark and arcane persona, though as she’s aged it’s faded which has allowed her power to evolve in a way that allows her allies to retain their senses in the fog.

Notes: Ongoing beef with guildmaster Venus for that one time she said “I’m not too old to be a guildmaster if Uranus is still at it” old lady fights ensue

Name: Anthe

Name Origin: A moon of Saturn, the name means “Flowery” or “Blooming”

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 31

Guild rank: 5 star

Weapon: Ahlspiess

Ethos (Power): Efflorescence. control of plants

Flaw power is based on: Her unduly gentile and sentimental nature

Notes: I swear the name relation is incidental

Name: Lesath

Name Origin: The star that makes the “stinger“ of the Scorpio constellation, it’s name means “bite of a poisonous animal”

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 20

Guild rank: 4 star

Weapon: Poison-laced karambit knives

Ethos (Power): Venom. The poison itself is similar to that of a belladonna flower.

Flaw power is based on: Her mischievous streak which can sometimes become ill-natured

Notes: She could bite to transfer her poison but the knives make it easier and less awkward.

Name: Crux

Name Origin: The southern cross constellation

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 25

Guild rank: 4 star

Weapon: Cross

Ethos (Power): Austere. The ability to turn his body into stone.

Flaw power is based on: His hard-headed stubbornness.

Notes: He doesn’t really talk much

Name: Patella

Name Origin: A former constellation, the limpet, a type of sea snail.

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 7

Guild rank: no star

Weapon: None yet on account of she is 7.

Ethos (Power): Lag. She can make things around her move in what seems like slow-motion.

Flaw power is based on: Her sluggish and lackadaisical attitude

Notes: That backpack functions on absolute cartoon logic, what DOESN’T she have in there?

Name: Diphda

Name Origin: The brightest star in Cetus, it’s name means frog (Or second frog more accurately)

Pronouns: They/them

Age: 14

Guild rank: 2 star

Weapon: Slungshot

Ethos (Power): Flying-frog. They can hop super high

Flaw power is based on: Their extreme hyperness and impulsiveness

Notes: Could use some adderal maybe

Name: Ramus

Name Origin: From the former constellation ramus pomifer, which means apple branch

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 21

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Bo shurikens

Ethos (Power): Point-slice. If he throws two or more of his weapons at once, he can make a clean slice manifest in between the two points where they land

Flaw power is based on: His incredibly direct and consequentialist approach to life

Notes: There’s a joke here but it might be low-hanging fruit

Name: Musca

Name Origin: A small constellation, Latin for “the fly”

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 19

Guild rank: 2 star

Weapon: Anelace dagger

Ethos (Power): Diminutive. The ability to shrink himself down.

Flaw power is based on: His shyness leading to the tenancy to make himself “smaller” around other people

Notes: The flight is really just a bonus power that came with the wings

#finn's ocs #oc references #finn's art #YAY i finished them yayayayayayayayyay #i hope that they all look okay too ive been trying some new stuff out esp in the faces. different mouth shapes and nose shapes and #ran out of space. and eyes and eyelid shapes the latter of which ive been getting really great input on from some friends who are great <3 #so hopefully they were all done justice but of course i usually go back and edit stuff after the fact anyway so i never discourage input in #ran out of space again. in general*#anyway this specific set was fun to do. i wanted them all to stand out in different ways so i didnt just give them a flower theme #uranus has a sort of vague nature theme but the light blues and whites under the dark greens were like #meant to evoke the sky. which is her namesake. but the sky name also sort of refers to the fog in a way #anthe was the most obvious w the nature theme is IS flowers. and lesath also has a flower motif going to but poisonous ones #crux is like. Rocks. because he rocks we love a short king #and patella diphda and musca all have various types of animal and or bug themes. is a snail a bug or an animal? not sure #musca also has a bit of a fairy theme going too which like are usually associated w nature #and of course ramus is apple themed. thats a kind of plant like anthe and lesath but instead of a flower its a fruit #theres technically another character who has an apple theme but in a different way so i dont think they impede on each other #yeah :)

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journey-to-the-attic · 1 year

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A concept I have dubbed the Friendship Bracelet Chronicles:

One day Solomon gives Ik a bunch of his old human-world things that he has no need for anymore. Mixed up in that collection is a box of some very pretty colorful thread. It'd be a shame to let that all go to waste, so Ik has an idea. She's gonna make friendship bracelets!

The bracelets are made and distributed to resounding success. Mammon cries. Belphie will kill you if you spill something on his. Diavolo won't take it off even for Very Important Announcements. Simeon wears his on top of his gloves even though it's a horrible fashion statement because he loves it with all his heart.

Ik thinks that's the end of it. Boy is she wrong.

One day Satan gives her a friendship bracelet of his own. He's made it with the same color Ik used for his bracelet along with little cat-shaped beads. Cute! Ik wears it proudly.

Then Levi notices and by the next day, he's made one with a goldfish charm. Then there's one from Mammon. Then Asmo. Then Beel. Then Belphie. And for a while that's it. Until one day at the breakfast, Lucifer walks in, and presents Ik with the most fancily woven bracelet so far. It's got little music notes embroidered into it. How the FUCK

It only escalates from there. The other exchanges won't ket their best friend status be encroached on and oh you know Diavolo has to get in on this! By the end of it Ik is wielding twelve bracelets, seven on one wrist and five on the other, and the others keep bickering about whose bracelet is higher in the pecking order

Imagine the added chaos if the newspaper club and season 4 trio got in on this....

this whole thing is so cute oml

om mephistopheles meets ik and when she shakes his hand he looks down and sees diavolo's friendship bracelet practically GLOWING up at him and he's just floored by the sight of it. meanwhile raphael thinks that the many bracelets are like, combat cuffs, and is extremely on-guard until simeon explains things to him

thirteen would be the first of the new trio to make ik a bracelet after becoming friends! it's pink-purple with little skulls and butterflies and bells that make it jingle. then raphael comes along with a pretty laurel pattern (painstakingly embroidered, because he's so good at that kind of thing). eventually, not to be outdone, mephistopheles produces a very elaborate silver thread one that looks like a dragon wrapping around your wrist

ik has to continuously rotate the order she wears her bracelets in because otherwise the others start play-bickering (and then real-bickering) about which one's the favourite

#answering asks #anon asks #okay bear with me in these tags i wanna think about the bracelets everyone else would make (that you haven't already talked about)#some of these border the line between traditional friendship bracelets and just custom jewellery but yknow what? that's okay #newspaper club first because i love them!#mephisto's looks like an elaborately tied pink ribbon with a little bell charm #wiz's looks like a circle of black vines with a few little purple roses #alecto's is like a daisy chain #astaroth's is a fairly simple braided string with some star-shaped beads #mammon's is black with a gold diamond pattern and a tiny version of that feather charm he wears on his belt #asmo's is covered with tiny gemstones and little flower ornaments #beel's is a slap bracelet that he's painstakingly wrapped some coloured wool around to make a nice pattern #belphie's is a bunch of seaglass-like beads that he's flecked silver onto to look like constellations #diavolo's is fairly normal until you account for the sheer boldness of the thread colours #barbatos's just looks like a black band with teal waves until you turn off the lights and it glows in the dark #simeon's looks like a string of feathers and is just as soft #luke's is dark blue and white and looks the most like a regular friendship bracelet you'd see on the playground #with a little gold charm that looks like that one he wears over his frills #and solomon's looks like a bangle that's enchanted to change colours like a mood ring

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sednas · 4 months

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─ BIRTHDAY GIRL

gojo, geto, nanami, toji x fem!reader (separately)

trigger warning: overstimulation, dirty talk (geto), use of handcuffs (nanami), public s!x, degradation (toji)

༘♡ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

you wake up by the feeling of a soft tongue running against the skin of your inner thigh. opening your eyes slowly, the first thing you see is gojo's face, squishing his cheek against your thigh, lazy blue eyes watching you with a glint of adoration.

"morning beautiful." he whispers just before placing a kiss over your clothed pussy.

"w-what time is it?" you ask weakly, your legs already slightly trembling.

"who cares? today's your birthday, we can do whatever you want, we got all day..."

you watch him slowly raise his eyes at you again, smirking mischievously and you can feel his hot breath against you.

"so..." he begins to talk while running his fingertips along the curve of your hips. "what do you want, mmh?"

he's really asking that when his lips are a few centimeters away from your pussy.

"your mouth, I want your mouth..." you whisper to him and he smirks again.

"where? here?" he teases, taking your hand to kiss the back of it. "be more specific baby or else I can't give it to you..." he laughs at your disappointed face and whines a little as you gently tug at his white hair to bring him closer to where you need him most.

"hereeee satoru, need you here." you almost groan in frustration, lifting your hips in the air in a needy way.

"oh here?~" he murmurs just before kissing your hidden pussy, this time using his tongue to wet the soft fabric of your panties.

you feel the tip of his tongue circles around your clit and it makes you shiver, your eyes are already rolling back even though he barely touched you.

gojo loves to tease you, sometimes he makes you beg just for a kiss, but today's your birthday, so he will be nice, at least at first.

bonus:

he brings you gifts in the morning. a lot of gifts. even more than usual. clothes, jewelry, perfumes, flowers, books, nintendo switch, pokemon cards, anything you want, he got it.

༘♡ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

you know your boyfriend has a thing for edging you. he likes to deny you for hours and hours, makes you cry and beg in frustration until you sound like a broken record, saying "please" over and over again... he just loves it when you're so horny and sensitive that he could make you cum just by blowing air on your pussy. but on special occasions, he likes to do the opposite, it's his way of spoiling you on your special day. he's so nice isn't he?

"su-suguru wait! you're... you're being mean!" you cry out, your trembling body trapped against his chest.

"I don't think your pussy agrees with you sweetheart, look how she's spasming when I remove my hand, she wants more..." he mocks with a wicked grin.

your skin burns with embarrassment at his words, talking about your genitals as if they were a real person. you'd be jealous if you weren't so overstimulated right now.

slowly, he puts two of his fingers inside you again and you moan at how full you feel just with his fingers alone.

he brings his mouth closer to your ear and you get goosebumps through your whole body, his lips almost touching your skin.

"come on lovely, give me one more I know you can." he whispers as he licks your earlobe.

"too much... can't..."

you squirm between his arms, your left hand desperately holding onto his forearm as his muscles flex while he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, his thumb toying with your clit. he clicks his tongue in disapproval and lifts your chin up so he can look at your face.

"you can still talk now can't you? mmh... looks like you're still using that brain of yours, let's fix that sweetheart."

while fingering you, he slides the thumb of his other hand in your mouth and you start sucking on it without even thinking, half lidded eyes trying to focus, your vision blurry as you can feel your sixth orgasm of the night coming. he smiles, flicking your clit a bit more harshly.

"cum sweet girl, you deserve to feel really good on your birthday."

bonus:

he takes you to your favorite restaurant <3 and he's smart enough to fuck you AFTER your date unlike toji 💀

༘♡ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

"what is it? already giving up?" he asks and he smiles when you shake your head. "that's my girl."

nanami knows how to listen, it's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. he listens and remembers everything you tell him. so of course he remembered when you confessed that some day you'd like to be tied up to his bed during sex. and tonight, for your birthday, he has decided to indulge that fantasy of yours. at first he thought it was a bit silly, the smile on your face when he handcuffed you to the headboard of the bed made him laugh a little. it's only when he finds himself kneeling between your legs, facing you, watching your eyes darken with lust and the way you're already tugging at your restraints that he realizes his position. he has you under him, completely helpless, at the mercy of his teasing touch and his insatiable mouth as you impatiently wait for him and he suddenly feels like the luckiest man in the world. he caresses your thighs lovingly and starts to kiss your stomach, making his way up to your chest to bury his face in your sweet tits, licking and giving gentle bites to your soft skin. you whimper and squirm, quickly realizing how frustrating your little fantasy is going to be and he seems to notice.

he keeps kissing your body until his lips meet your own, taking your breath away with a sloppy kiss and you gasp in his mouth when you feel his knee against your pussy.

"work for it baby, show me how much you want me." he orders, his voice soft but firm and you can only obey.

swaying your hips, you start grinding against his knee, softly moaning, looking away with embarrassment when you see him looking down at you, hypnotized by the way you're moving your body.

"you're doing such a good job baby, keep going, wanna know how desperate you can get for me."

bonus:

nanami never takes breaks from work, except for your birthday. he takes you on a weekend where you both can relax and have some sweet sweet sex in a jacuzzi 🤤

༘♡ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

you thought he was being weird as soon as you showed up in the outfit you had carefully chosen for your date at your favorite restaurant. he just looked at you from head to toe and nodded. he didn't even squeeze your ass when you walked past him and you ridiculously felt a bit sad about it. you should have known better, really.

now he's grabbing your hips with his big hands and forcing your body down onto his throbbing cock in the driver's seat, in the middle of the restaurant parking lot.

"m'sorry baby, I just can't resist you, you look so fucking good in that outfit." he moans in your ear and you have to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming.

he lowers one of his hands to grab your ass and he starts thrusting inside you, his cock rubbing all the right spots, making your thighs tremble and your eyes water.

you feel his other hand threading through your hair, forcing you to look down where both of your bodies are connected.

"look at the mess you've made honey, it's all over me. does getting fucked in a car turn you on that much?" he asks and he smiles when he feels you trying to meet the cruel thrusts of his hips while looking away from the view of your pussy soaking his cock.

you whimper when he pulls at your hair, forcing your head down once again.

"answer me. does my little slut like to get off to the thought of getting caught while I'm fucking her pretty pussy?"

and despite shaking your head you can't lie to him, almost salivating at the feeling of your swollen clit rubbing against the fabric of his pants while he keeps slamming his hips against your skin.

"fuck yes! yes I like it! I like it so much!" and he laughs at your dumb voice, seeing you so cock drunk never fails to amuse him, especially when you make such shameless noises with the rear windows half open... he'll tell you later.

bonus:

this car sex session leaves you both panting, sweat sticking on your foreheads, your hair all messy and let's not even talk about the cum dripping out of you right now. so you both decide to go back home and toji orders food from the restaurant you were supposed to go to.

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abyssruler · 9 months

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roses are red, violets are blue, lynette is so done with the two of you

lyney x gn!reader

lynette thinks fontaine’s worst kept secret isn’t how neuvillette wears blue underwear or how the hydro archon loves a good drama, no, fontaine’s worst kept secret is lyney’s massive crush on you and how everyone and their grandmother know except you.

comedy, pining lyney, lynette being so done

Lyney’s frowning.

Most people would find it an odd expression on him, used to having him direct dazzling smiles and playful laughter their way. But Lynette isn’t just anyone, and the sight of Lyney frowning is hardly a rare phenomenon within the privacy of their household.

Freminet’s usually Lyney’s choice of victim for whatever nonsense he’s managed to build himself up in that head of his, but Freminet’s busy doing errands and Lynette is unfortunately the only person within vicinity that Lyney trusts with his secret—which isn’t even a secret by this point, people have been making bets on how long it would take you to realize that Lyney’s been pining over you since forever.

Case in point: Lyney frowning over two identical flowers. She doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know that her brother is having a midlife crisis over which flower to give you.

Lynette thinks he should just man up and confess. Preferably within the next week or so, otherwise she’d lose her bet.

“Lynette, which one is more eye-catching, the crimson one,” he holds up the flower in his right hand, then he raises the other one, “or the maroon one?”

Lynette gives him the deadest stare she can muster. “They’re the same color.”

“Oh, sister, have you no taste?” Lyney tuts, pouting at her for a moment before returning to that constipated look as he squinted at the ‘crimson’ and ‘maroon’ flowers. Talk about being delusional.

“(Y/N)’s not gonna care whether the rose is crimson or maroon or red,” she tells him. You’d probably accept a dead flower if it came from Lyney, with that starry-eyed look you always got whenever he so much as glances your way. Lynette’s not one to judge other people’s taste too harshly, but she does wonder what you see in her overdramatic and annoying brother.

Ah, well. They do say love makes people blind. Hopefully not literally though, Lynette’s not looking forward to performing shows alone because Lyney got blinded by his love for you—though if you asked Lynette, she’d tell you it wasn’t love so much as obsession. Only someone insane would spend hours picking out flowers and calling them ‘maroon’ and ‘crimson’. It’s just red.

Lynette squints at him. “And since when were you interested in the meaning of flowers?”

“Well, I suppose you could say I like to dabble in other pursuits.” Lyney gives her a cheeky grin.

“Right…” He’s clearly losing his mind.

“Red roses symbolize true love, though rainbow roses in particular pertain to passion, and…” He trails off, eyes blinking in astonishment. She can practically see the lightbulb appearing on top of his head.

With a flick of his wrists, the ‘crimson’ and ‘maroon’ roses disappear. Lynette watches him warily, wondering what kind of outlandish idea has formed in that head of his.

But he doesn’t elaborate more, only shoots a wink at her and says, “I’ve got a great idea.”

✧

His great idea, as it turns out, is to corner you in an alleyway and make it rain rainbow roses around you as he asked you out on a date, all while Lynette is crouched on the roof, dumping sacks of rainbow roses and vindictively hoping one of them stabs Lyney in the eye. No such luck.

You, as the ever-crazy romantic that you are, are awestruck and amazed by what he’s done instead of weirded out like how a normal person would be. With an eager smile and a twinkle in your eye, you accept the rose in Lyney’s hand and say yes when he asks you to meet him for dinner tomorrow. Lynette wants to barf, but settles for dumping another sack of flowers on top of the two of you.

And if she uses a little bit of anemo to direct a few petals to Lyney’s face? Well, you removing a petal sticking to his cheek and having your fingers linger there for a few moments wasn’t part of the plan (the plan being: embarrass her brother by having him choke on a petal while he’s speaking), but she can’t entirely begrudge the result. Not when Lyney looks like he’s about to have a meltdown with just one touch from you. Good blackmail material right there.

Lynette’s happy that the two of you have finally gotten your heads off your asses and are actually going on a date. Though mostly she’s happy about the amount of mora heading her way soon.

She’ll have to thank Freminet for telling her about the bet about you and Lyney. Maybe she can start a new bet on when the two of you are getting married—probably soon, if the lovestruck look on Lyney’s face is anything to go by. She hopes he won’t be crazy enough to propose on the second date, because you’d certainly be crazy enough to accept if he did.

Oh, well. Lynette will put a bet on one month just in case.

#look i haven’t done the archon quest yet #so i don’t have a good feel yet of their characters #but i’m sticking with this characterization!!#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #gn reader #lynette

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churipu · 3 months

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𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫! 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

featuring. gojo satoru x reader

warnings. cursing

note. i thought of this when i saw a"rating celebrities i have met" video on tiktok, i imagined what gojo would be like as a celebrity — hence this fic. enjoy <;33 god i want to make actor! jujutsu kaisen a series so bad.

actor! gojo who first saw you during a fan meeting, and when you asked for a weird pose to do with him, he's immediately attached — like love at first sight?

actor gojo! who slips in his phone number when he was signing his picture that you asked him to sign, hoping that you, his very own fan would actually text him. because, he genuinely wants to get to know you better.

actor! gojo who receives a text from you during the night, and the first text he receives from you was a "is this a prank? if it's not, i'm going to roll on the ground and cry. if it is, i'm sorry you had to see this text." and he decided to play with you by saying it's a joke — but stopped when you actually believed in him.

actor! gojo who finds it funny that you still don't believe that the gojo satoru is texting you, so he decided to video call you to make you believe in him (you ended the call immediately and blocked his number for a bit after, only unblocking him when you got your head straight).

actor! gojo who eventually got to know you better, slipping in the time to video call you or voice call you during breaks in his busy schedule. sending you your cravings out of the blue, or even bouquets of your favorite flowers.

actor! gojo who will use his empty schedule to come and meet you — taking you out to eat or just spend the day in your home, or his apartment. even exhausted, he still wanted everything to work out with you, so he would do anything; even if most of the time, the both of you ended up napping together.

actor! gojo who sends selfies of himself or a short video of himself during his schedule so you could know what he was doing — pointing out the most unnecessary things in the video, like how he saw a cat (then taking a picture or video of the cat to send to you), or even telling you how he finished the shoot in a short amount of time, wanting you to be proud of him.

"hi! i just did a scene, and there was this really cute kitty — look, i named him tuxedo, 'cause his fur looks like a suit. isn't he cute? what do you think if i brought him home with me, i think you'd like him!" he said, panning the camera to the said cat, caressing its fur gently.

actor! gojo who checks his phone every time after a take in his shoot to see if you had replied to him, and when he sees your notification, he gets so motivated to do his shoot. and when you don't, he's pretty upset. he turns into a big baby and asks everyone in the set what it meant if someone replies late, he is so dramatic.

actor! gojo who if asked about his ideal type during interviews, mentions and describes your personality and looks. and everyone won't know that he was talking about you, he sees people talking about how specific his words are and speculates that he was seeing someone.

actor! gojo who trended on social media after that particular interview and the account who first speculated how specific his description is, and now the whole world is saying he has a secret lover or is dating backstreet.

actor! gojo who then receives a text from you asking about if he was seeing someone because of his trending name. and he decided to ask you out for good — telling you that it was you he was describing, and he would be glad if you'd go out with him.

[ you ] : you're trending omg

[ gojo satoru ] : i know :D

[ you ] : but now that i rewatched the video, it does seem like you're describing someone, who is it? 😏

[ gojo satoru ] : idk if you're nonchalant or you're just pretending not to know :/

[ you ] : ???

[ gojo satoru ] : it's you, silly. i'm describing you to the world, so now that i've said that — can i please be your boyfriend?

actor! gojo who immediately drives his way to your house when you said yes to him being your boyfriend; he had been holding back the urge to kiss you, holding you close, so when he's yours — he just has to have you close to him.

actor! gojo who was a little upset when you said you wanted to keep the relationship a secret from the world so his fans wouldn't be mad at him. but he accepted it, as long as you're comfortable.

actor! gojo who makes it clear to people on set, including his make up artist, and even director that he now has a partner; and that he's madly in love. everyone on set listens to him talk about you every single day, gojo is so lovestruck that he can't stop talking about you, telling people on set how great you are and how deeply in love he is with you.

actor! gojo who still slips in random selfies and videos of him during work so you won't overthink, he will tell you what he's about to do and with who even if you didn't ask — he didn't want to keep his partner waiting for him, he's communicative to what he's about to do so you won't worry.

actor! gojo who brings you out on a date to a fine dining restaurant one night and it turned out to be the gravest mistake ever when he finds his name trending the very next day, all for the wrong reasons.

actor! gojo who's first worry is you when he was trending. half of his "fans" were bashing the mysterious person (you) off, saying the most mean things ever, and half of his fans were happy that gojo was on a date with you, telling him how they're really happy that he's out on a date despite his busy schedule.

actor! gojo who makes sure you're alright first, telling you how you should never listen to whatever his "fans" are saying — because they're definitely not right, and they're just jealous. he tells you that he will resolve everything, so you don't have to worry about anything.

actor! gojo who clarifies, by quote retweeting a tweet that was meant to hate on you — clarifying that he's married to you (even if he's not), and that you're his partner. he EMPHASIZES on how he's not hesitating to sue anyone who delivered hate, and he's personally keeping track on the usernames of people who had made a hate towards you (he jots them down and screenshots them).

and most of these account decided to deactivate right after his open clarification. losers.

actor! gojo who then made a proper clarification by saying that he is indeed in a relationship with you and that you're his spouse (not yet), and he told the whole world how he won't hesitate to take legal actions to whoever decided to mess with him, his personal life, or you.

actor! gojo who was happy when most of his real fans supported both him and you, and tell you both how happy they are. he giggles and kicks his feet reading the comments about how you both are definitely going to last, and how you both will be the best couple ever. he screenshots them and make an album just for these comments, showing them to you to reassure you that everything was going to be fine. you were going to be fine. you both were going to be fine.

actor! gojo who was asked about you during interviews and he gets so happy and smiley that he gets to show you off in front of the camera, telling everyone how deep in love he is, and how you treat him like the best person in the world. the video went viral and people were so envious of you.

"oh, my spouse? best. person. ever. i met them during a fan meeting, yes. they were a fan of mine — i could say it was love at first sight, i look at them and i just knew i wanted to marry them."

people then began to believe that they have a chance with their own idols, most of them making this a meme, and they use gojo as one of those tiktok standards videos.

actor! gojo who still sends you selfies and videos after a long time of dating, never breaking the routine. even when he has a schedule out of the country — he still makes time for you, engaging in video calls and voice calls despite the time zones, sends you the sweetest voice mails when he can't do a call and brings you the best souvenirs ever.

actor! gojo who casually assumes that you both are married since the first time you both got caught — he bought you a ring, and just slips it on you, telling you that you're both now married. and you casually accepted, you both had your own moment, made the official marriage certificate without anyone knowing. and the next second, he just announces to the whole set who knew about his "clarification" that he's actually, for real, honestly, married to you. and he tells them his clarification wasn't just a lie to get out of the situation.

actor! gojo who posted your face for the first time in his social media after so long, and he trended again. this time, with you. the fans were so happy, he gets so happy when his fans compliments you — and he happily retweets and reposts every single thing they say about you. he's such a proud husband.

actor! gojo who mentions your name whenever he wins an award, once again telling the whole world how he wouldn't be able to make it until now without you by his side. and how he's so thankful that you're always there even during his toughest times. he has a habit of ending his award speech with a: "y/n l/n, you're the love of my life, i love you. mwah."

a fan of his made a compilation of his ending speech for you, and posted it on twitter, which of course, went viral.

actor! gojo who constantly posts you and writes about you on his social media with the cheesiest captions ever, and people were down for it. telling you how lucky you are to have a husband like him, and gojo always replies back by saying he was the lucky one.

actor! gojo who finds out you read fanfictions about him when you miss him, he pokes fun at you for it — but finds you really cute, then you both make it a routine to read fanfictions of him.

"oh, i would totally do that. how did they even come up with these? they're really good at this," gojo laughs, laying his chin on top of your shoulder as you scrolled your phone.

actor gojo! who gets so happy when you come to visit him on set, and gets so motivated because you were there real time to see him on the act. and spends his break with you, the crew on set gets so disgusted by him and posts about how gojo acts around you on social media — and the fans are finding it hilarious, they ask the crew for more information about gojo and you.

actor! gojo who definitely brings you to red carpet awards, wanting you to be there with him. asking the paparazzi to take many pictures of you so that he could save them, and they do. taking your pictures from different angles, posting them on social media so gojo could save them.

actor! gojo who refuses acts where he has to kiss another actor/ress, he didn't mind holding hands or hugging. but when it comes to locking his lips with another person who is not you — he won't do it. even when you tell him that it was fine since it was his job, gojo still refuses, and directors would go lengths as long as gojo will act for them, cutting out the kiss scenes and settling for something less intimate.

actor! gojo who sometimes get caught by paparazzi when he's on the way to visit you or when he's buying a gift for you. telling the paparazzi they shouldn't upload the pictures until a specific date when he's planning to surprise you, and the paparazzi agrees (sometimes), but when some of them uploaded the pictures right on the same day, he gets so upset that they ruined his surprise for you.

actor! gojo who protects you from shameless paparazzis, not hesitating to tell them off in front of the camera for you. because, let's all be real, most paparazzis could be a pain in the ass, they could be awful, and they could be really persistent.

"hey, back off from them. i'll fucking hurt you if you get closer, understand?" and these paparazzi will taunt him for it, but gojo could care less about them, he only cares about your safety.

"i'll ruin your fucking camera, y'piece of shit. don't you fucking dare touch my spouse, i'm serious." he mutters out, pushing away a man who had undoubtedly came rushing over, trying to get you out of the way so he could picture gojo.

actor! gojo who makes it clear that he won't tolerate people being hurting you at all. and he won't be afraid to take a risk to hurt them back for you.

actor! gojo who will sacrifice his job for you. because on camera and behind camera, all he thinks about is you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #actor gojo #gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x you

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luveline · 3 days

Note

oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333

ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k

“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.”

Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?”

“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.”

Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been.

(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.)

“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.

“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.

“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?”

He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?”

“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.”

“Too right.”

When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.”

Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I!”

You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.”

You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.”

The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.”

“I do!”

“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right?

“I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him.

You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real.

“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away.

He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands.

You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired.

You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug.

“Forward,” you tease.

You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?”

“I’m wearing jeans.”

“Did you sit down on the subway?”

“No, I drove here.”

“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.”

“It was quickest.”

You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured.

“You okay?” he asks you.

“Just missed you.”

“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.”

“Too much standing up.”

“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.”

You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose.

“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.”

Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly.

He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.”

You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?”

Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.”

You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.”

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds

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seattlesellie · 9 months

Text

e. williams — moonflower.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.

warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.

an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗

enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.

the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.

⋆˙⟡♡

you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.

“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.

“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”

louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.

“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”

“how come?”

“it simply shows, pumpkin’”

louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.

ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.

it reminded you of her.

⋆˙⟡♡

ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.

“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”

“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”

you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”

ellie’s breath caged in her throat.

it already does.

“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.

if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.

if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.

⋆˙⟡♡

sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”

you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.

“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡

the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.

balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.

“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”

you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.

joel.

you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.

you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.

“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.

“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”

joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.

“she’s still into it, huh?”

“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.

“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.

“found it last week while i was patrollin’”

“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.

“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.

“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”

joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”

you nearly choked up.

“joel… you should come with me”

joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.

“maybe next birthday, kid”

joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.

⋆˙⟡♡

12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…

well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.

again.

usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”

“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.

when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.

would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.

instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.

it was her morning voice.

funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.

“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”

“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.

“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.

“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”

the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.

the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.

you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”

ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.

“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.

“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”

she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.

“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.

“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.

ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”

ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.

“can’t taste my own cake?”

“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.

“yes ma’am”

⋆˙⟡♡

you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.

impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.

you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”

“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.

“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”

before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!

she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.

for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.

“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”

ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”

ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?

maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.

laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;

“hey” she whispers.

“hi” you whisper back.

ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”

impatient.

you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”

she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”

ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.

“apollo one”

she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.

“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.

⋆˙⟡♡

apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”

ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”

interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.

“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.

“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”

that she hasn’t. yet.

ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.

“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”

sweet? intoxicating?

“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”

nah, she thinks she might be something worse.

slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.

“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.

“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.

“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”

“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.

slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.

“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”

“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?

she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?

her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.

thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.

“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…

“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.

“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.

you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”

“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.

“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“

oh.

ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.

“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.

“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.

“i have wasps”

“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.

“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.

her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.

doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”

“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.

this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.

⋆˙⟡♡

so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.

with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.

what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?

“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.

shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.

besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.

“so… you wanna open them up or not?”

she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)

“fuck yeah”

you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.

the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.

what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—

“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!

“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”

ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…

“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.

“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”

she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.

“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.

“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”

you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…

“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.

“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”

you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.

“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.

“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”

ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.

one whole minute passes.

“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.

you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.

“i’m in love with you”

you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?

“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.

she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…

you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.

like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.

when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.

“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.

still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.

you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.

swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”

she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.

“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.

with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.

with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”

you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”

“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”

you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.

she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“

“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.

“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?

“explode!”

“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.

you’re fuzzy everywhere.

“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”

you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.

as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.

you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”

“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”

“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—

“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”

when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.

she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x fem!reader

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sunderwight · 1 month

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Imagine how much Shen Yuan and Airplane would hate it if an actual PIDW fan transmigrated in too, though.

Like, one of the guys who genuinely loved the stallion novel harem-building aspects, the weird-yet-vanilla het sex, the willingness to throw the plot out of the door just to have yet another interchangeable woman throw herself at the hero. Someone who only ever had nice things to say in the comment section, who unironically referred to Airplane as a master storyteller, who bought some of the VIP chapters (if he liked the wife Bingge was destined to wed & bed), couldn't name any of the monsters or sex flowers or most of the male side characters, had a Xin Mo keychain and once commissioned fan art of Sha Hualing (favorite wife) looking sexy in a pin-up pose, and told Peerless Cucumber he was a weirdo who took things too seriously on more than one occasion.

I think he'd bother Airplane the most. Shen Yuan would be annoyed and tell him his taste was in his ass, but that's about it.

But Airplane? I think at first he'd be inclined to enjoy having an uncomplicated "fan" of his work turn up. This guy actually praises him! He has nothing but flattering things to say! It's like a dream come true! Except... well, Airplane himself is perfectly aware of the decisions he made in his writing and why (he sold out deliberately, not because he thought it would actually make for a better story -- say what you will about whether or not it's worth it, but the man knows what he's doing), and also I suspect kind of resents his own popular audience whenever he has to interact with them for more than minute.

After all, these were the patrons he had to appease and appeal to, the readers he had to worry about offending or alienating, the ones who were paying the bills but also would have vanished at the drop of a hat if he hadn't given them a steady supply of what they wanted. It's not the audience he actually desired, it's the one he decided not to offend in order to maximize profitability. Peerless Cucumber might be a pain in the ass, but he's a pain in the ass who picked up on the story that Airplane himself originally intended to tell, and wanted PIDW to actually be that. Which has gotta be kind of gratifying, in a roundabout way.

I think it would stress Airplane out to have someone approve of the things he himself didn't even approve of. Like on the one hand this guy seems to have only a good opinion of him, but on the other hand it's based entirely on a false impression and Airplane actually agrees way more with Cucumber's assessment of his writing, because he wrote it badly on purpose. Since the guy has a good opinion, that's something Airplane can potentially lose, and he'd be most likely to lose it by revealing the truth about his own creative intentions and his actual tastes and inclinations. A ticking time bomb of disapproval that could go off at any moment to who-knows-what effect.

He'd hate it. Eventually every time User No.3 came around he'd just be like:

[ID: A gif of Skeletor from Masters of the Universe gliding through a blue magical barrier and then reaching back to punch and shatter it. End ID]

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #airplane: finally a REAL fan #airplane five minutes later: hmm... don't like this #image ID provided by princess-of-purple-prose

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pupkashi · 2 months

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f1 racer!satoru 💭🏎️

a/n: hi friends ! i have had this au rattling in my head like a damn maraca for SO LONG im so glad i finally got around to putting it out for yall :3 this might be for a very niche group of people but i hope the five of you who enjoy f1 will appreciate this 🙏 let me know what yall think if you’d like him to make a reappearance in drabbles or one shots !! <3

masterlist

f1 racer!satoru who is mercedes golden boy, replacing lewis hamilton after his move to ferrari, going toe to toe with the likes of red bull and Ferrari racers

f1 racer!satoru who is loved across the grid and in the general public, think Italian men with charles leclerc, he’s the people’s princess, truly

f1 racer!satoru who dominates his rookie year, leaving everyone stunned at how truly talented and amazing he is

f1 racer!satoru who has the most followers on social media from everyone on the grid, everyone fawning over him constantly

f1 racer!satoru who loves the attention, but all of it seems so meaningless the second he meets you, falling hard and fast from the couple conversations you had, giving you free tickets for the race in an attempt to get more time with you

f1 racer!satoru who shows up and shows out the Grand Prix that weekend, eyes searching the crowd as tries his best to focus on his post race interviews

f1 racer!satoru finds you in the crowd as he steps onto the podium, smile widening and dimples popping out, he’s laughing as his podium mates douse him in champagne, all of them taking a swig from the comically large champagne bottle

f1 racer!satoru who says his to you with champagne dripping down his face and off his snowy hair, asking what the odds were of you letting him take you out on a date where he’s not working

f1 racer!satoru who is impossible to not fall for, with his witty replies and pretty blue eyes, he has you weak in the knees and on FaceTime every night

f1 racer!satoru who takes you carting, letting you win and treating you to dinner afterwards, buzzing with nervousness as he asks you to be his

f1 racer!satoru who is elated to have you as his partner, having you fly out with him whenever you could to his races, explaining everything about formula 1 to you beforehand, chest warming when he realizes how focused you look on his every word

f1 racer!satoru who develops a pre-race ritual with you, having you hype him up and giving him a good luck kiss before the two of you walk out of his driver room and into the garage, he’s zipping up his driver suit and asking you to help adjust his balaclava, smiling when you kiss his nose and wish him luck

f1 racer!satoru who seems to become even better after he started dating you, managing to podium every race and putting up a fight against a dominating red bull team; in every interview he says it’s not only the car but his amazing lover who helps him push every lap

f1 racer!satoru who has a picture of you in his helmet as his lockscreen, and you have one of him in his fireproofs as yours

f1 racer!satoru who gets dubbed ‘the grids angel boy’ after you commented on his post fresh off his Japan Grand Prix win ‘congratulations my angel boy’

the entire grid loves you, announcers and commentators always excited when you show up to a race, cameras showing you in the Mercedes garage ‘and we have y/n in the garage today!’ you smile brightly at the camera, ‘i guess we know who’s gonna get pole position for qualifying tonight’

f1 racer!satoru who drives you around in his fancy Mercedes, sports and classic cars, exploring every city with you, treating you to expensive food and presents, walking hand in hand with you down the streets of Monaco, taking pictures of you at the beach in Miami and sending flowers when you can’t make it to his races

f1 racer!satoru who is absolutely smitten over you, adding your initial to his helmet hidden among the design, showing it to you with sparkling blue eyes as your heart flutters

f1 racer!satoru who runs to you after every race, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you on the lips before celebrating with his team

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jobean12-blog · 23 days

Text

Love and Flowers

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 554

Summary: You surprise Bucky with something unexpected.

Author's Note: A friend shared a cute little reel with me that inspired this drabble. Also, I love flowers :) Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft fluffy fluff

When you hear the jingle of keys and the click of the lock at the door you startle with a quiet gasp of surprise and quickly hide your hands behind your back.

“Hiya doll face,” Bucky says brightly as he walks through the door.

He pushes it shut with his boot and holds his arms out, making grabby hands.

“Hi Buck. You’re back early.”

“I missed you,” he states simply.

You smile sheepishly and stay rooted to your spot by the kitchen counter.

“Doll?” he asks, his forehead furrowing with worry.

His fingers twinkle enticingly and you giggle.

“Come here instead,” you say.

In two purposeful strides he’s standing toe to toe with you and giving you an assessing look.

“What do you have behind your back doll?”

“Well...,” you start as you bring the bouquet of blue hydrangeas, blue delphinium and white roses into view.

He stares at the flowers then at your face and then back at the flowers.

“You bought yourself flowers?”

His tone is incredulous and his eyes are wide.

“I told you you’d never have to buy yourself flowers again now that you have me.”

His voice gets more frantic with each word.

“Did I forget to get you your flowers this week?”

He lifts his eyes to scan the apartment.

“I did, didn’t I?”

He runs a frustrated hand through his long hair before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Doll…I’m so…”

“Bucky,” you say then press your finger to his lips to silence him. “These are for you.”

“What?” he asks.

“The flowers. They’re for you.”

“You got me flowers?”

“Yeah.”

“But…why doll?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t…really?”

“Yes. I saw them at the Union square market this morning and they made me think of you.”

You hold out the bouquet.

He tentatively reaches out to take it.

“They’re really pretty,” he whispers then presses his nose into the fragrant flowers.

“Right!” you say happily. “Let me get you a vase.”

“I did buy you flowers this week…didn’t I?”

You nod. “Of course Buck. They’re in the bedroom. They smell so good I wanted to keep them in there.”

“Where are you going to put yours?” you ask him when you hand over a vase.

He gently starts to unwrap them from the plastic before placing them in the water.

“I think I’ll put them on my desk,” he smiles.

You take his free hand and start to tug him toward the spare room where his desk sits by the window but he doesn’t move and instead rests the vase on the counter and pulls you into his chest.

“I never got my hello,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Oh,” you whisper, settling your palms along his chest.

With the press of his lips his hands slide up your back and pull you closer. He takes you in his arms and lifts you onto the counter, careful of the flowers sitting nearby and never breaking the kiss.

His soft lips leave yours and trace the outline of your jaw then press delicately to your neck, to the spot just below your ear when he whispers, “thank you for my flowers doll. I love them but I love you the most.”

Your arms tighten around him and you nuzzle your face into his shoulder.

“I love you too Buck.”

@lizette50 @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989

#Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan

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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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