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#this is GORGEOUS i am loving the barbie pink...

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.

2K notes · View notes

unformula1 · 2 months

Text

perfect little moment (LN4 x Reader)

perfect little moment (LN4 x Reader) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Yea, duh, this luggage is my baby.” You said, still hugging tightly onto it. “Am I not your baby too?” Lando says, exasperated. “No.” You sass him back. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pairing: lando norris x reader w/c: 701 a/n: the poll isn’t over but Lando deserves one more to his name. Short little fic. Have fun!!!!!!!! also this is absolutely not proofread. masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ taglist: no one yet lol. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You open the door to your room and run directly into the bed, jumping up and landing on the bed with a little bounce. You lay there motionless, soaking in all the comfort of the fluffy bed.

“You gonna stay there and become one with the bed,” Lando scoffs, leaning in the doorframe, “Or you gonna come and help me carry your shit in.”

You lift your head from the bed and turn around to face Lando, “It’s a luggage, you just gotta push it in.”

Lando does so and the luggage comes rolling in, it comes to a slow halt and falls to its side. A loud bang follows.

“HEY!” You shout, hopping off the bed and running to your luggage, giving it a hug.

Lando stares at you in utter disbelief, “You are kidding me.”

You hug your luggage like it’s a baby and shoot Lando a glare.

“You love that luggage more than you love me!” Lando rolls his eyes and closes the door behind him as he walks in.

“Yea, duh, this luggage is my baby.” You say, still hugging tightly onto it.

“Am I not your baby too?” Lando says, exasperated.

“No.” You sass him back.

“Fine.” Lando says, “I’ll cancel the fancy dinner!”

“HEY! NO!” You protest, lunging yourself at him.

He dodges you and starts hastily pressing things on his phone screen.

“HEY! I yield. I yield. You’re my baby.” You say, raising your hands up, surrendering.

Lando flashes you a cheeky smile and keeps his phone.

You roll your eyes and crawl over to him, planting a kiss on his cheek. His entire face flushes red and he hurries to cover it, hiding it away from you.

You let out a mischievous sounding chuckle before going closer and kissing him again.

He hides his face even more which makes you want to kiss his face even more.

“You don’t have to hide it!!” You whine, “I’ve seen it enough times!”

Lando shakes his head, refusing to show you his face, keeping it buried deep into his hands. He slowly turns away from you, his back now facing you as he

A soft chuckle escapes as you wrap your arms from behind Lando which causes a little squirm from him as his muscles tense up. After a few seconds, Lando processes it and his body relaxes as it falls into yours.

He makes himself comfortable within your arms and melts in there under the warmth of your hands.

Your hands gently stroke through his curls and it makes him chuckle, finally revealing his face and looking up at you. It’s bright pink, like a barbie level of pink. Hot HOT pink.

“You look good.” You comment, throwing him a wink.

“Shut up.” He mumbles before sitting up and pushing his face to be closer to yours.

You’re inches apart. The only logical thing to do right now would be to kiss him.

So you do.

You kiss him on the lips and he kisses you back. It lasts a few seconds, a few bloody good seconds.

You two part and he’s almost out of breath which makes him catch his breath as much as he can. He stares into your eyes.

His eyes look gorgeous. His eyelashes are beautiful too. You don’t think you’ll ever shut up about how good his eyes look, especially when they’re gazing into yours, especially when he looks lost in his own thoughts.

“I’m saying we cancel the dinner tonight.” You suggest as Lando lays his head in your lap.

Lando lets out a lazy sounding mmkay before snuggling tighter into your lap.

“Stay in tonight, order takeout, watch a movie.” You continue.

Lando gives you a nod back as he takes his phone and hands it to you to order.

“You’re such a baby.” You chuckle.

“Your baby.”

“Mhm…my baby.”

Everything about Lando should be imperfect, he’s rash, impulsive, wild, chaotic, messy, immature, the list could go on forever. Nothing in the world ever made you think this relationship would be perfect, nothing is perfect. Everything on this Earth is imperfect but it's the perfect little moments like these that make you cherish whatever you have with Lando.

448 notes · View notes

leclercsainzz · 9 months

Note

hey hun!

could you write a smau with actress!reader x charles where charles is literally whipped for his gf and maybe reader is in the new barbie movie and he can’t stop talking about how proud he is and stuff like that and the fans and other drivers make fun of how whipped he is

thx xx 🩷

INTO YOU

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x actress!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 518,028 others

yourusername: pretty in pink! 🩷

view 7,929 comments

charles_leclerc: you look mesmerizing

charles_leclerc: baby, you are looking gorgeous 😍

charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!

↳ yourusername: i love youuuu <33

user: the way he hype’s her up, i cannot 😭

↳ user: i need me a man like that ASAP

francisca.cgomes: stunning!!

isahernaez: obsessed with you and your beauty 😩

↳ charles_leclerc: same!

carlossainz55: i cannot stop looking at these - charles

↳ carlossainz55: yn, come get your man! he keeps refreshing this post every 5 seconds just to comment

↳ sebastianvettel: what is it that teens say nowadays? ah, yes .. he’s WHIPPED!

user: you’re so pretty, I CAN’T 😭

user: how does charles get this beauty all to himself?!??

user: call me charles cause i’m also a simp for you 😌

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa and 540,619 others

yourusername: this barbie is a certified genius #thebarbiemovie

view 8,510 comments

user: tuRN IT UP, WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! 🔥

charles_leclerc: so proud of you, my love!! ❤️

user: screaming, crying, throwing up .. can’t wait!!

charles_leclerc: the prettiest barbie ever!

↳ yourusername: my biggest fan 😘

dualipa: you’re a real beauty!

user: she truly is barbie and then there’s charles

↳ user: she’s everything, he’s just ken

user: charles is one lucky ass man, i swear 😭

↳ charles_leclerc: that i am:)

↳ user: i hope you know how to fight

lewishamilton: charles sent this to the group chat and DEMANDED we all watch this

↳ user: ooh, to be in this gc

user: i cannot wait to watch this!!

charles_leclerc and yourusername

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 683,893 others

charles_leclerc: first of all i want to start of by saying happy 3 year anniversary, chéri!! with all that you’ve accomplished over the years, i can’t help but be immensely proud of you and your hard work .. i’m glad to have you around and blessing my life in ways you’d never imagine … thank you for being my biggest supporter and lightning up my mood every chance you get! i love you will all my heart, baby!! ❤️

tagged: @yourusername

view 8,841 comments

yourusername: omg, you’re making me cry:(

yourusername: thank you, bby! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️

user: i’m noT crying, you are

carlossainz55: please tell me yn bought that t-shirt for you

↳ charles_leclerc: if it helps you sleep at night then yes

maxverstappen1: that t-shirt, mate 💀 someone’s WHIPPED

lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is yn’s biggest fan

↳ pierregasly: 😭😭 not even yn’s fans are this obsessed

↳ carlossainz55: the BIGGEST simp out there

user: the waY the other drivers are coming for him 😂

user: cRYING OMG 😭

user: the way they’re each other’s biggest supporter 😩

danielricciardo: i was about to comment “cute” until i saw the last picture you posted ….

↳ user: danny, please 💀 let the man live

yoursername

liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 548,792 others

yourusername: european premiere in london for barbie & race week officially completed ✔️❤️

view 6,847 comments

user: the way she went to support him even though she had to attend the premiere later on 😭

↳ user: don’t forget he attended the premiere with her too

↳ user: smh, and i can’t even get a respond

charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!! ❤️

↳ yourusername: back at you;) 😘

user: meanwhile my bf can’t do the bare minimum

user: they’re the reason i believe in love, i swear 😩🤍

danielricciardo: did you tell margot robbie i love her?

↳ yourusername: of course!! (charles sent you a vid)

user: every couple wishes they were them

carlossainz55: meanwhile charles leclerc starstruck by his own girlfriend at the premiere

↳ maxverstappen1: he’s acting as if he doesn’t live with her and sees her 24/7 💀

↳ yourusername: 😭 i can’t with ya’ll

yourusername and charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 586,931 others

yourusername: get you someone who looks at you and appreciates you the way he does!! 😚

tagged: @charles_leclerc

view 7,629 comments

charles_leclerc: i’m addicted to you

↳ yourusername: me @ you 😩

charles_leclerc: i can never take my eyes off you, you’re too gorgeous, baby!!

charles_leclerc: you make me blush 🤭

↳ lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is the #1 simp

user: theY’RE MY PARENTS, yA’lL

user: the way he looks at her with such love 😭 i CANNOT

pierregasly: obsessive fan behavior, if you ask me

carlossainz55: i guess this is cute

↳ yourusername: guess???!??

↳ carlossainz55: it’s cute

user: this mf is sooo whipped!!!

↳ user: he’s just like me 💁🏻‍♀️

user: he better know how to fight cause i’m gonna steal his girl

↳ charles_leclerc: for the girl i love, absolutely

↳ user: mY HEART JUST MELTED WTF 😭

user: they say love is dead, but these two proved me wrong

2K notes · View notes

scarlett-foxxx · 3 months

Text

IMPORTANT BIMBO REQUEST & WARNING!!!

👇 Ok this is a long read so thought i’d give you some cute bimbo pics first 🤭

I think (I know, great way to start for a bimbo hey? Thinking 😋 anyway…) I do think that there should be a concerted effort for bimbos to not continually be pushed by doms/dommes or hypnotists or just people in general to be these perfect bodied Barbie dolls pumped up with botox & huge lips, a bbl ass & larger than life tits & instead focus on the attitude & aesthetic that comes with being a bimbo.

I’ve been around the hypnosis & bdsm scene for a while now, and it just keeps showing up ~ the typical “bimbo” should be “this” or “that” etc & that’s just not true ~ especially these days, the bimbo is basically a girl who wants to be girly lol or bubbly & mainly loves pink. That’s it! That’s all it should be!

Yes, we like to dumb down & drop out while listening to files or just act a certain way, but more and more I see bimbos or wannabe bimbos saying that they want less focus on sucking c*ck or being subservient to a man etc & absolutely NO body modification suggestions ~ we simply want to be light & airy, bubbly & dreamy & would like hypnosis or conditioning to assist in this.

Most of us definitely don’t want to think at times & almost all of us want to be the best bimbos we possibly can be, but that SHOULD NOT entail body modifications in any way, shape or form.

1. It’s demoralizing

2. It’s based on misogynistic principles 🙅‍♀️

3. It’s dangerous! ~ many cases are being brought to light where these procedures are causing health problems later (look it up if you don’t know, trust me it’s shocking)

4. You’re fucking beautiful the way you are you gorgeous, bubbly bimbo! (Sorry for the swear but I needed you to know it 😋)

👇 ALL THESE BEAUTIFUL BIMBOS ARE FANTASTIC (I am not hating on those that get body modifications, but it’s not for everyone & it should not be pushed on us to be a bimbo the “right way” aka “keep going” attitudes etc.

So yeah, bimbos & babes who love bimbos or hypnotists/doms/dommes PLEASE rethink the “look” & “actions” of the bimbo in your files & your attitudes towards bimbos in general! I guarantee there will be so much acceptance if your files/blog/dms etc are not based on misogyny & the typical bit titted, d*ck sucking lipped plastic doll.

Thanks in advance!

Luvya 😘

Scarlett 💕🫧✨

#bimbo training #bimbo girl #bimbo doll #bimbo dreams #bimbo babe #bimboification #bimbo hypnosis #bimbo goals #bimbolife #bimbo goddess

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thestoryofusstan · 2 months

Note

💿💿🙏✨

Harry supports director!yn as she becomes the first woman to make a billion dollar movie for ‘Barbie’.

this is actually such a cute ask omg… also i got a bit carried away so she’s a bit long😭

—

you were dressed in a hot pink silk gown, with shoes equally as bright. you probably would have not worn something so.. eye-killing, if everybody else in your— harry’s, technically, but your name would be on the lease soon, house.

you were young for your field. twenty six— but still.. young. you’d made the biggest movie of the summer, and now.. ever. the barbie movie, starring margot robbie and ryan gosling. (and yes, you did shed a few tears before you met them. so what?)

when you found out through a very excited text from your mom that barbie was the first woman-directed movie to make a billion dollars, you broke down sobbing. harry, who was in bed next to you, held you and insisted you have a party to celebrate.

hence, house full of pink. most of them were cast members— you’d already chatted with margot for quite a while, but some of them were family and friends.

you could see harry’s sister, gemma, through the sea of people, but no harry.

an arm slowly comes to rest on your shoulder, and before you can panic, a familiar scent filters through your nose. harry’s perfume.

you turn to him with a grin, “hey, you. i was just lookin’ for you.”

he matches your expression, “i was puttin’ together some last minute things.”

you met harry before his live on tour show in london. you were on the way, and then your car broke down, and you sobbed on the side of the road until someone pulled up next to you and asked if you needed a lift. it was harry, and as mortified as you were, you still accepted and even met with him the next day.

you’d been dating for about five years, at this point.

“what things?”

“this,” he states, grabbing a champgne glass and a knife with a grin.

before you can question him, he clinks the knife and glass against each other until he has the whole rooms attention.

“as you all.. hopefully know, we are here to celebrate my amazing girlfriend, and the cast and crew, of making the first billion-dollar movie directed by a woman.”

you blush as everyone applauds.

“y/n, you are such a talented, amazing, gorgeous woman, and i cannot wait to see what other amazing films you make. i am incredibly lucky and thankful to call you my girlfriend. i could not think of anyone more deserving of this. i love you.”

you could nearly cry as he finishes his speech with a light peck on your lips.

“but as much as i love calling you my girlfriend..” he passes off the champagne and knife to someone as he lowers down. your jaw drops, already knowing what he’s doing. “i would love it even more if i could call you my wife.”

everyone in the room screams, gasps, and cheers. you cover your mouth with a hand as tears fill your waterline.

harry pulls out a velvet case and opens it, revealing a dainty diamond ring— he knew you hated over-the-top ones.

not trusting your words, you start nodding as the tears begin to spill.

“yeah?” he asks with a smile.

“yes! oh, my god! you’re fucking— yes!”

he stands up and pulls you into a kiss, and when he pulls away, he turns back to the room, “my fiancée is the first woman to make a billion dollar film!”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry fic #harry #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #director!yn #harry styles x director!reader

199 notes · View notes

kissitbttr · 4 months

Note

omg can i ask for reader and miguel’s baby turning 1, and they celebrate the birthday, like how kylie jenner did for her precious babygirl stormi🥹 like miguel getting his precious daughter large toys, lots of performers, large bouncy houses, blasting spanish music, and cutting the cake, i really hope u see this ask🥹🥹

side note: ur like my fav tumblr fanfic writer rn, you’re so gorgeous and i hope you have a good day🩷🩷

AAA THIS IS A VERY CUTE IDEA ANONNNN

my note: i am?? *gasps* you're so sweet!! i am so honored my lovieeee!! thank you so much🥺

one thing. she has only asked miguel for one thing and he just dismissed her like that!

the two of them had previously discussed in matters of their baby girl's upcoming birthday, and she had told--no-- threatened him to keep things simple and baby-proof,

guess, she should've known that he was prone to never really listen

"you are so. dead, o'hara" she grumbles, scanning over the party decorations in their backyard. the twenty-ish big pink presents put neatly in the corner, a princess castle bouncy house, a DJ deck, and food catering?

there are already people stopping by and busying themselves at the party, she finds a couple familiar faces like peter, jess, even the kids gwen and miles.

he puts his hands up in defense, staring at her with a playful smile. "I know I know I went a little bit overboard--"

"a little?!"

"but querida, come on" he snakes his hands around her waist, tugging her closer but her eyes aren't even on him. "it's our baby girl's first birthday-- I had to give her all"

"what would a baby need a DJ deck for anyway?" she asks with a frown,

''we can set it aside and use it for a band.. i already have two ready for the party"

her jaw drops open. "a band?!"

''ay okay stop with the dramatic expressions, princesa" he chuckles, kissing her forehead.

shaking her head, she replies "you already got her two barbie houses, a pink range rover for kids, brand new stuffed animals that look like they escaped from the damn zoo, Disneyland tickets and a cinderella's carriage baby crib... you spoil her too much"

he shrugs, "like i told you... she's my baby"

"and how much have you spent for all of that, hm?"

he envelopes her hands between his, kissing the knuckles to ease her. "don't worry about that. got too much money in my bank account and I will use it to spoil the fuck out of both of you."

a light smile spreads across her face. "she wouldn't even remember half of this miggy, you know that?"

"we'll record it and everything" he shrugs, looking around the party feeling proud of his work. "I want her to have the best birthday ever. not just this but the next one and the next one and the next"

she can't help but feel her heart soften. he is so full of love every time he talks about their baby, an ultimate girl dad.

"i can't imagine what you will do for her quinceanera"

he winces at that, head shaking at the thought. "don't remind me. i want our baby girl to stay little forever"

she chuckles at that, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his chin. "what an amazing father you are, my love"

his cheeks warm at the compliment, glancing down at her to give her a grateful smile. one that speaks how glad he is to have her by his side, to call her his, to hear those words coming from her lips.

the sound of a precious giggle distracts them both, craning their heads toward the source of the sound and seeing jess holding their baby girl in her arms. dressed in a pretty pink dress with tiara on top

y/n reaches out to make grabby hands at jess. "hello pretty girl! gimme gimme" picking sofia from jess's grip, earning a cute giggle from her,

"she couldn't stop pulling at peter's hair-- your baby's got quite a grip" she mentions before walking away with a smile,

miguel snorts at that, silently patting himself on the back for what his baby had done,

cradling her closer to her chest, y/n fakes a gasp. "eso hizo, no es asi? uncle peter probably deserved it"

sofia babbles more, clapping her chubby hands at the two of them. miguel chuckles at the baby's cute antics and the way his wife talks in a baby voice,

a lucky bastard he is,

"daddy did this all for you, mamas-- aren't you happy? yeah?" she coos once more, bringing sofia closer to Miguel,

''come here pretty girl" miguel's hands move to grab her tiny body, picking her from his wife's grip. a sigh of contentment escapes from his lips. "my little princess... aren't you the prettiest baby I have ever seen, hm? you got that from your mami"

y/n eyes the interaction between the two of them, her finger moves to sofia's hand which she grips it.

"she is so fluffy.. we have a chunky baby"

miguel frowns, feigning a fake offensive look. "you calling our baby fat, mi amor?"

rolling your eyes, you scoff at him. "she's cute like this... i like it..." she gives a loud smooch on her baby's cheek making her giggle more,

miguel bobs sofia lightly in his embrace, inhaling the scent of her shampoo while keeping his eyes on y/n.

none of this was ever planned. miguel had no clue that being married and having a baby would be on his bucket list. if someone would've told him four years ago that he would eventually settle down and have a family, he would tell that person to fuck off and how crazy that idea sounds. because marriage wasn't his thing,

but now? he would kill the entire universe for his girls

"what are you thinking, papi?" she asks, head tilting in curiosity when his eyes won't move away from her,

he stays silent for a moment, pressing his cheek against sofia's head as she toys with the collar of his shirt,

"vamos a tener a otro bebe" [let's have another baby]

i hope this is okay!! xx

#miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara drabbles

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kissingrhi · 1 year

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i loveeee your better call saul writing!!!

do you think you could do a nacho headcanon or one shot with a reader who dresses super feminine? (lots of pink/purple and cropped + low rise clothes, kind of like barbie!!)

basically like an ‘opposites attract’ situation! (maybe nacho would be their scary dog privilege)

thank u!! <33

i am a very feminine girl so i love this!! and i love nacho!! #winwin

still gender neutral reader btw! just feminine dressing :)

he absolutely adores your style

finds it beautiful how you can express yourself and your personality with what you wear

definitely gets flustered at the stark contrast between the two of you

also prideful. loves loves loves being your protector

if you two are out in public and someone is staring at you or makes a comment about your body or clothes, he'll threaten to "knock their fucking teeth out" and keep walking.

you'll always be laughing too, because you know he'll always keep you safe

melts if you wear his clothes.

he doesn't know if it's the unusual sight of you in dark colors or if it's simply because they're his, but he goes mad at the sight of you in one of his burgundy shirts

always toying with your clothes or jewelry.

running his hands over sparkly fabric, or pushing a dangling heart charm on your expensive bracelet (that he bought you) back and forth

thinks you look gorgeous in pink, especially pastel

LOVES buying you clothes or taking you out shopping!

he will doing anything to help you with your expression because it is one of the many many things he admires about you

if you dress with more skin showing, he'll keep a soft hand at your waist or in your back pocket.

he will not leave your side!

loves teasing you if he's feeling playful

"you're just royalty, huh?" with the biggest smirk on his face when you show him different outfit combinations.

will definitely let you do his makeup (if you ask enough)

pink lip gloss marks smothered all over his cheeks and collarbones >>>

finds your style to be unique and beautiful. gives him all the more reason to love you.

you're his muse 💕

#nacho varga #nacho varga x reader #better call saul #better call saul x reader #feminine reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #so cutie

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aroaceconfessions · 1 year

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I have always been all about love. As a child i was a typical little girl, y'know, pink, pretending to be a princess and watching Barbie movies, a lot of kids movies in general. Love was in almost all of them, so as a child i also wanted to smooch my Ken and have a happy life with a boyfriend.

I was constantly chasing after my friend trying to kiss him (we were even together for a few years in the kindergarten/first class until he broke up with me, so you could say that i already had my first relationship heh)

Then my interest in romance started to fade slowly as i grew up, you know, sometimes i thought about it and also about IT (although it always grossed me out) but not much more then a normal tween girl would do, i think.

Sometimes i thought i was gay, i always knew one of my famale classmates was pretty and i still think she's cute. I also saw a lot of people on the internet that i thought we're gorgeous, but even when i questioned myself if i actually had a crush on somebody (when i thought twice in a row that they are pretty) deep down i knew that the answer was no, and i was just trying to fool myself.

Seventh grade. Oh boy.

This is the time where teens usually start thinking about romance, right? My cousin - she's my age - told me how she was in a couple of internet relationships and how one of them litterally showed up to her school dance to meet her (he is her age and he lived in the area, don't worry) when she broke up with him because she didn't actually wanted to date him when the possibility showed up. And i asked myself "why bother then" if she didn't want to date him for real then why did she "date him" at all?

My classmate also got a boyfriend at some point that she mentioned at school (at least in my presence) once, when she told a story how they were together 2 weeks and never spoke again. "Why then?" I still asked myself.

I thought, and still think, that 13-14 is too young to date. If you don't really want to try, or you don't really feel anything for the other person, or you litterally don't know them, then don't date?? It seemed so obvious to me. So I set myself a rule to follow. No dating before 15. First of all, 15 is the age that i think is acceptable for teens to date, kiss, whatever, second of all i thought i would be mature enough to handle that kind of thing.

I'm not.

I never assumed that when i turn 15 i automatically get a partner but- uh it's just such a weird concept. Aside the fact that I'm litterally mentally not ready to BE in a relationship because i have mental and emotional problems to figure out and fix first but i don't think i WANT to be in a relationship. It's too much, and i also am not able to even imagine falling in love with someone and having them liking me back, the chances are one in a billion!

Most of the time love is a fun concept, something that i maybe would want to experience, feel like everyone else and just be happy with my second half, but there are also times when i just want to stay with my parents and love them and them only, not caring about romance and these other disgusting stuff that people my age apparently like(??)

I just don't know. Everytime I try to figure it out i tell myself that I'm just too young and i will find my answer later in life, but is that really possible? I just want to know and live with full knowledge that i am looking for a partner or not.

Submitted April 15, 2023

#aromantic #aro #arospec #aspec #questioning #dating #relationships

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iwannabeabuffgirl · 3 months

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I've had two nasty comments in my inbox/messages this week I have deleted it.but it has prompted me to post this if/when I lift I am not losing my femininity.my health is a lot of my problem with my progress and exercising.IT IS NOT AN EXCUSE but I'd like to say this I still want both bodybuilding and bimbofication but sometimes because of health or mindset I lean more towards one than the other.i aim for a perfect 50/50 but if I become more of a bodybuilder than a bimbo I still want to be feminine I still want pink decor,girly clothing,sequins,plisse and glitter,make up,heels if I can't wear heels then pink/red trainers and pink/red sandals etc and if I become more of a bimbo than a bodybuilder or my health hinders me i still want to be physically active😉lifting if not lifting I enjoy walking and dancing and other activities🥵😈.for those who think the two don't mix look at barbie titus,Jessica brunnick fitzgibbons,hannie van aken,valentina chepiga(they are some of my favourites)and many others.bimbos have to lift to strengthen their bodies especially necks and backs to carry their glorious beach ball boobies look at the lovely jazmyne day literally look at her you'll enjoy🍆 BONUS I have never done it but i have always enjoyed the thought of cosplay especially since I saw the avengers assemble In 2012 and guardians of the galaxy in 2014 or 2015 I have always wanted to dress as lady loki or she hulk I did dress in an outfit similar to Steve Rogers when I went to see the avengers for the second or third time and all in green,black gold when I saw thor ragnarok.it's a real inspiration to see three of my biggest/ favourite role models atm do cosplay so much (I think it makes me want to try it even more or maybe why I like them best)Jessica brunnick fitzgibbons,Stephanie michelle and jazmyne day but I will always look up to hannie van aken,the late joanna thomas and the gorgeous slutty cartoonish titted Amy anderssen.

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squ1dteeth · 10 months

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My thoughts on the newest helluva boss (mostly critical)

Man, usually I am in the boat of "critical, but ultimately still love it" with these season 2 eps, but Unhappy Campers might be the first I've hated.

Moxxie and Millie felt like their motivations should have flipped. Millie's need for validation came out of nowhere. She's objectively the most useful and competent member of the team and nobody has ever told her otherwise. Why would she be getting sidetracked by the compliments of some random humans? Moxxie's whole thing is loving and supporting her so Millie acting like he doesn't write more than one song about how amazing she is is really strange.

Likewise, Moxxie does need validation but his attention seeking behavior was really off. One of his strengths is he's a talented songwriter but he basically just wrote a song that went "Me me me me me?" and it just...didn't feel like him. I was watching the episode with a friend and I had so much secondhand embarrassment watching Moxxie make an ass out of himself.

I think the episode would have worked much better if their roles had been swapped. Moxxie has been the narrative's punching bag, especially this season, and it would be fun to have an episode where he is praised for once, but it goes to his head. And Millie feeling jealous, but then realizing her husband needs her support the same way he supports her, would be adorable and make sense for their first real moment of tension onscreen.

There's other ways it could have made sense too. We know very well Moxxie has daddy issues, and his need for Blitz's approval stems from the fact he's an older male authority figure. So what if there was a very fatherly camp counselor there that Moxxie wanted the approval of? In my opinion, this would make much more sense, because since when do M/M care about what humans think of them? Up until this point in the show, human characters have all been disposable meat sacks, with no traits other than dumb or violent. Not only humans, but human teens. It's just very cringeworthy to me since it's such an out of nowhere urge for these married adults to want teens to fawn over them.

Also, from the moment Moxxie said their characters were siblings, I knew it'd be an incest joke. And yeah it did happen...in the worst way possible. Is no one gonna talk about how they stripped down and banged for an audience of preteens? Yes, I get it, it's hell, the characters suck, blah blah blah but not with M/M. I could see characters like Blitzo or Verisoka doing that but M/M? Besides the pegging, I feel like the jokes always been that they're vanilla by hell standards. Moxxie got mad that Blitz watched them fuck and their whole plot in Ozzie's was about how he refused to publicly declare his lewd feelings for Millie. But...they're exhibitionists now, I guess, because this show is no longer about assassination, it's about character assassination.

(Some positives to finish off this post. I really liked Barbie Wire! Her design as a human especially. She's gorgeous and I wish we could have had more of her and Blitz. Also, the backgrounds and shading/lighting are better than ever. I'm a huge fan of the appearance of the sloth ring and the moody pink lighting it comes with. Helluva may irk me with its writing sometimes but the art blows me away enough to keep watching.)

#helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva boss review

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burpfrog · 7 months

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Beauty and a Beat | Part 1

Still sleep deprived, still writing. Let’s do this.

CB pranced into the empty dance studio and plopped her duffel bag down in the corner. She’s half an hour early to the workshop but she’s already been waiting anxiously outside for an hour and the security guard have started to taken a notice of her. She stood in front of the floor length mirror and gave herself one last fit check and nodded reassuringly at the reflection. After all she’s made sure to put on the right kind of over sized hoodie and sweatpants (she even got those caps that dancers likes wearing) to make sure she blends right in. “You got this, fake it till you make it,” she said to the reflection, pointing finger guns right back at herself. Hopefully no one saw that.

Someone saw that.

“You got this,” they said reassuringly.

CB turned around, mortified. Upon realising who was standing at the door, she turned a shade of barbie pink. “Kirsten?”

Kirsten chuckled, “Don’t be so nervous love, you must be the newest member to Jam?”

With a deep inhale an exhale, CB bashfully made her way towards the beauty. “Hi hello hi, lovely meeting you! I am the newest member to Jam, I’ve never thought I’d meet you in person but I think I might be here by mistake…” she trailed off. Seeing the slight confusion on Kirstin’s face, CB continued her rambling. “I am not really supposed to be here - I’d love to be here - but I don’t think I’m a dancer dancer.”

“Okay now you’ve lost me, I need more context. You are CB though?” Kirsten remained her graceful and welcoming composure, albeit a little more puzzled as CB continues to word vomit.

She nodded. “Well yes to being new to the team, yes to being CB, yes I am supposed to be here for the Jam Republic team workshop, but no I am not a dancer.” She paused, realised how convoluted she has made this whole situation. “Okay I think I should rewind - I’m technically hired to be a sound producer for JR, but during the hiring process I was asked if I can dance and I said yes. He then asked if I would like to join the dance workshop for team building and I said yes, but I didn’t get a chance to explain that I was an… exotic dancer during my college years.”

“Oh my god this is amazing,” Kirsten bursted out in laughter, “we love a good variety. I’m so glad you’re here. Don’t sweat about it!” The blonde gave CB a firm hug, “once a dancer always a dancer, no shame in stripping. Is that why you’re in those massive heels?”

CB chuckled and followed Kirsten’s gaze to the 8 inch platforms. “Pretty much yeah, they said to bring comfortable dance shoes so I brought Chloe along. It’s the only thing I know how to move in, really.”

“You named them?” Kirsten said amusedly, “At this height you might just be on Bada’s height. She should show up soon, she’ll be thrilled to not be the only giraffe in the room.”

The studio door opened once again, behind which the slender girl with perfectly pin straight fringe walked in. Elevator turtle neck? Bada thought to herself. “Speak of the devil!” Kirsten pranced over, guiding CB towards her. They briefly greeted each other before turning towards CB. “Here’s our newest, CB this is Bada, Bada, CB.”

Bada turned to the newbie, briefly stunned by the heels. How does she move in those?

CB beamed back, taking in the gorgeous face with effortless coolness. Her hair tied up in a messy bun, her streaky fringe a blend of cool grey and black, with her signature cap sitting on top. She then quickly followed her gaze down to the heels. “Hello there! I’ve heard plenty about you - and this would be Chloe. Pleasure meeting you,” CB tried to sound as approchable as possible, knowing her tendency of having a notorious resting bitch face when seeing a stunner.

Bada chuckled at Chloe. “Hi! I think we’ve met but never got the chance to introduce myself,” she said as she remembered the elevator encounter. The girls were right, she is her type. Her split dyed blue and black hair resembling a gothic Cruella, cold eyes with eyeliner sharp enough to kill, and her towering figure had Bada catching herself staring at her jawline. Under those oversized utilitarian hoodie must hide a very choke-able neck, Bada couldn’t help but think. Feeling a flush of redness rising to her cheeks, she quickly looked back down at the leather heels and feign a massive interest in them.

“Right,” CB quickly recalled the encounter, “I was just stopping by the other day to get the studio’s location, Jam Republic have sent me there in hopes that I can find you before they’ve set up the recording studio in Seoul for me. They thought I’d get lonely in a new country all by myself.” The Cruella impersonator chuckled, “but I got all flustered seeing all you ladies there that day and couldn’t bring myself to introduce myself. Sorry about that, I don’t do well in groups.” I don’t do well in front of pretty ladies, CB thought to herself, but managed to swallow that line before she made a fool of herself.

“Don’t be silly, we were actually wondering when did we get another dancer in the studio,” Bada reassured, pleasantly surprised by how warm and fuzzy CB sounds despite her almost mafia-like appearance the other day. “We even have a nickname ready for you in case you’ll be joining BEBE.”

The small group was interrupted as the remaining members of Jam Republic joined the room, ready for the workshop to begin. CB took a seat next to Bada on the oak dance floor, the duo exchanged a smile before turning their attention to Kirsten, who led the first day of workshop. Glad I went along with the misunderstanding, CB thought to herself as she checked out Bada one last time before focusing on the dance training.

The ten hour day went on as each member took a 2 hour slot sharing dance moves and exchanging pro-tips. Four hours in, during Latrice’s turn, Bada can’t help but to stare at CB as she quickly learned Latrice’s skilful footwork in those seemingly impractical shoes, moving like a graceful gazelle. CB noticed her intense eye contact and grinned back, “I doubt I’ll be able to move by the end of today. I’m surprised I even lasted this long with all you pro dancers,” CB whispered, laughing at her own rusty moves. Bada repeated Latrice’s moves alongside, which much better precision and body control, CB’s eyes widen at the demonstration, trying hard to not drool at the sight of her fluent dance grooves.

As soon as the lunch break was announced, CB sprawled onto the floor, panting heavily from the exercise. “I have no idea how you do it,” CB said shakily, “I am so out of shape it’s not even funny.”

Bada laughed at the slump on the ground, “you’re not doing too bad, probably just not your genre. What is your usually dance style anyways?”

CB smirked mischievously as she unzipped her hoodie, “stripping.”

Bada felt her cheeks flushed red as she continued to pulled off the oversized clothing, revealing the singlet underneath. Thank god for the practice, at least I can chalk that one up to Latrice’s full body workout. Before she even had the time to register the stunning body, she was quickly distracted by impressive patchwork tattoo collection CB had covering almost the entirety of her body, from the base of her neck to as far as Bada can see under all the hoodies’s coverage. She fought back the urge to gulp hard but failed.

CB noticed the lingering gaze and decided to tease a little more, winking at the already blushing Bada. What a cutie, she thought to herself, maybe I’ll take a shot.

The workshop continued after the hour long break. CB kept the hoodie off, tossing it to the corner along with the remainder of her belongings. Bada couldn’t stop stealing glances at CB, she’s never realised how fast hours can pass. On the other hand, CB is not cut out for these high intensity dance sessions but refused to be the only one to tap out and embarrass herself, especially when Bada won’t stop looking over at her. I gotta make a good impression, she thought as she gritted her teeth to push the remaining hours; hours felt like days as every inch of her muscles threatened to give out at any given time.

As soon as day one of workshop ended, CB crawled her way towards her bag to reach for a grinder and a pouch. She rolled a joint in record speed and searched for the nearest smoking area. Kirsten caught a glimpse of a pink grinder and squatted down next to CB. “Sharing is caring,” she said half joking, half very much wanting some greens.

CB motioned at her travel sized smoke goodies and inched towards the exit. “Help yourself, I desperately need a smoke after today. I might have to show up tomorrow in crutches.”

As the duo giggled towards the smoking area, Bada wondered where CB vanished to, determined to make more conversations the next day.

“I didn’t know you smoke,” Kirsten asked as she took a draw.

“I was a stripper in Melbourne, or course I smoke.” CB responded. “Just glad the workshop is here and not Korea, I don’t think I’ll have enough ouid pen to last me through this. There is some really cute girls to keep me motivated though, I’ll have to say.”

Kirsten laughed, clicking her tongue. “Bada? She really is the infamous heartthrob isn’t she.”

CB nodded, taking another deep long draw. “Caught her looking my way a few times, you reckon I have a chance?”

“I think so, pretty sure Redy is out of the picture…” Kirsten trailed off, enjoying the company. “Careful with that one, she’s can be a real womaniser,” Kirsten said jokingly, her tone laced with a hint of warning.”

CB’s eyes flickered under the street lights, “I do like a challenge.”

Aight guys I am very sorry for the inconsistencies in writing, it has been so long since I last birthed a fic and I am behind rusty. Thanks to my brilliant ~depression~ I really can’t decide between fluff or angst (I have the tendency to lean towards sabotaging relationships whenever my mother is in town to visit, I wonder why…), so I’ll probably be writing some hard-to-get long burns for the time being? If you have a preference feel free to let me know~ Anyhoo thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far ^_^

#fanfic #dance #swf2 #bada lee

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tom-whore-dleston · 2 years

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👗 Do you think Simu would ever propose to Honey? If so...what would everything (from ring to wedding venue to maybe honeymoon destination) look like?

Dress me up👗 - Send me any scenarios or concepts that you envision for any of my AUs (Teach Me Tonight, Honey Baby, The Avengers Sweethearts) and I will write a drabble or head canon for them

Pairing: !sugar daddy Simu Liu x f. reader

Warnings: fluff, marriage/wedding, mentions of sex - if I missed anything, let me know

Summary: Headcanons of how you and Simu get married

Word Count: 450

Notes: I am so sorry this came out so late 😭 I was overthinking this concept a lot but I finally just said "fuck it, it doesn't need to be perfect or hit a word count, etc" and went with where my thots took me lol I hope the wholesome vibes make up for the long wait. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed what you read 😊