Hello~ I Really Enjoy Your Fics And Wanted To Request A Wonho One. Maybe Something Where He Is More Submissive

Hello~ I really enjoy your fics and wanted to request a Wonho one. Maybe something where he is more submissive x gn/male reader- only if u feel comfortable. Thank you in advance 🩷🫶

Untitled (for now)

Pairing: Lee Wonho x GN Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Idol AU, Established Relationship

Warnings: smut, mature language/cursing, reader slut shames wonho (ITS SEXY), reader calls fans whores, aftercare because it's important!!

Smut Warnings: Degradation, reader uses wonho, face slapping once, dumbification, objectification, overstimulation, anal sex

a/n-i am so sorry that this took as long as it did. but here it is! i hope the wait was at least semi-worth it. i truly did some research so i didn't make my writing too feminine, (IT SHOWS I CARE!) unfortunately i'm not too proud of this work but it may be bc this is my first time intentionally writing gn reader or bc it actually ass sucks lolz. AGAIN, I AM SO SORRY!!!!!

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Awaiting his arrival, you sat on the plush couch in your shared apartment. Fuming, you tapped your foot on the floor, reminding yourself to calm down. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, he was yours, they were just fans behind screens. But still, them thirsting over your lover, was something that tested your patience. 

From the photo he posted you could tell he was almost done. His muscles bulged from use, sweat dripped down his face and neck, and the towel wrapped around the back of his neck. It shouldn’t take him too long until he was back where he belonged, with you. 

whorerat: OMG HIS THIGHS

jenosslut: nah, i can make him sweat

(s)creamingg: my manssssssssss

They were harmless and you knew that. He himself had reminded you. But as you scrolled through the comments of fans lusting after Wonho, your anger grew.

Your eyes snapped from your phone and to the door once you heard his car pull into the driveway. Getting up, you walked to the door, unlocking it and having your hand on the knob. Hearing the storm door open, you turned the handle and swung the door open, scaring him.

Ignoring his shrill shout and wide eyes, you jabbed your pointer finger at his broad, sweaty chest.

“You’re such a slut!” Wonho’s ears burned at your accusation and he caught on quickly but the color remained.

“Oh! You liked my post?” He threw you a lopsided smile and walked towards, lightly pushing past you and inside the house. 

“Of course, I liked it! You’re my boyfriend! But it seems like I wasn’t the only one who liked it.” Wonho didn’t take your annoyance to heart, he found it endearing.

“You know…your opinion is the only one I care about.” 

“Hmph.” Still, his answer didn’t satisfy you. 

“Seems like I’m going to have to remind you who you belong to.” 

Wonho was taken back by your voice, which had turned dark, husky almost. He turned around to question your intentions but was given an answer immediately when you pushed him backwards and onto the couch. 

“Now, what was your motive with this? What made you decide to post a photo of you shirtless, legs spread in front of a mirror, with sweat dripping down your entire body? You’re telling me that you didn’t post that because the attention makes your dick drip?” 

“I did it, because I wanted you to do this…”

Instead of even addressing his confession, you just laughed, causing the color in his ears to deepen.

Stepping closer to his figure on the couch, you bent down to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to let him know that you weren’t actually mad at him. You could feel his once tense body release said tension, and he was able to truly enjoy what was coming next.

Without interrupting your kiss, you swung your leg around his thigh before repeating the action on the other side.

“Please, please, just touch me. Do something, please.” Wonho hid his face in your neck. He was too embarrassed to look at you but still knew what he wanted, you.

Teasing your fingers up the inside of his thigh, you could feel the muscles hidden underneath his skin tense at your touch. 

“How am I supposed to help you if I can’t even touch you properly?” Faking ignorance, you moved your head, forcing Wonho to look at you. 

The color in his face has yet to drain but eagerly, he nodded and lifted his hips. Once his ass was lifted off the couch, he grabbed the hem of his shorts and boxers, pulling both off his hips all in one go. 

Sitting back down, Wonho looked at you, anticipating your next move. 

“Hard already? I haven’t even done anything yet. Maybe slutting yourself out just gets you off, huh?” HIs eyes widened and he was quick to deny your allegation. 

“M-no! Just you, I wanted you to see!” It was pathetic really. How nervous he was, was absolutely pathetic. When he walked through the door, his sweat from his work out had chilled into his skin, but now, new beads were forming at his hairline from the sheer nervousness that was coursing through his veins. 

“Aw, how sweet. Wonho got all hard at the thought of slutting himself out to me.” Words dripped with a sweet poison from your lips and he wanted nothing more to catch the drops before they fell too far. 

“It would be such a shame if I were to leave you like this, but I guess not, you have all your whores in your comment sections thirsting after you.” Wonho knew you’d give him what he wanted, you always did, but not before making him suffer first, but the fear in the back of his head that today may be the day you make him take care of himself still nipped at his thoughts.

“No, I just want you please! No one else can touch me like you!”

“No one else can touch you period!”

“Yeah, no one else!” He was slurring his words at this point/ Saliva was overflowing from his mouth, causing him to drool all over himself.

“But, because of what you did, I’m gonna treat you like what you truly are. Just a useless dildo made for my pleasure.:

Wonho held no objections, he spread his thighs apart so you could use him to his full potential. That fear of you leaving him untouched lodged in his throat once more as you walked away suddenly towards your shared room. Now with you out of his sight and him knowing better than to get up without your permission, he relied on his hearing for any hints on what you were doing. It didn’t help much as he just heard you rummaging through what he assumed to be a drawer. 

Soon the noise stopped and you entered his sight, trying to see what had changed, Wonho looked at you up and down only to be met with confusion. Your clothes were still as you left them but your right hand was clutched around something, hiding it from his view. 

“Oh don’t worry, I just got some lube so it’s easier for me to use that stupid cock. Maybe that’s why it’s so big, because you’re so dumb…gotta make up for your flaws somewhere I suppose.” 

So lost in desperation, Wonho blindly nodded. You doubted he actually knew what you were talking about which caused you to laugh at him. 

“Please, just touch me, I need you. Just use me!”

”At least you know exactly what I’m going to do.” Hooking your fingers in the waistband of your sweats and briefs, you pulled them down in one go and stalked towards the giant trembling man at your use. 

Without exchanging any words, you popped the cap of the lube off and squeezed a dollop out onto two of your fingers. Moving those fingers back to your rim, you fingered your hole on top of Wonho, letting out exaggerated moans to get the point of you not needing him across. When his whimpers picked up from you rolling your hips into his, you stopped your little show and decided to get the real attraction going. 

Pulling your fingers out of yourself you squeezed another dollop of lube onto them, this time you used it on Wonho, wrapping your hand around his cock, you moved the lube up and down, squeezing his dick harder than necessary. When Wonho jerked up in your hand, rushing your pace, you used your free hand and brought it across his cheek harshly.

“Quit thinking with your fucking dick.” Shocked by your slap, Wonho nodded without making eye contact, as this was uncharacteristic of him, you were slightly worried, that was until you felt his dick throb in your hand.

“You’re a little pain slut, aren’t you?” He nodded more confidently which made you think he wanted you to hit him again, but you didn’t give him that satisfaction and instead of that sharp stinging feeling, he was granted the feeling of you sinking down onto his dick. 

Tightly closing his eyes, Wonho gasped at the sudden feeling. You could see him fist the couch fabric and try to adjust to you.

Like the good boy he is, Wonho kept his hands to himself, keeping those hands at his sides, he let you use him like you wanted.

Bouncing up and down on his dick, you changed your pace when you could feel him start to buck up into you. There were several times that you had to actually lift off of him as he got too close to the edge before you allowed him to. Looking down at his cock, it strained, trying to find some friction that would allow him to finish. 

“I didn’t say you could cum Wonho…”

Closing his eyes in what you could only assume as concentration, he nodded and you slid back down onto him. But before you could even move, you felt your hole fill with his cum. 

“Are you serious? You were being so good?” 

Not even letting him respond, you went ahead and started going again. Ignoring his whimpers and pleas to stop, you giggled and tweaked his nipples.

“I told you I was going to use you; it isn’t my fault that you didn’t listen to me or wait. This is just what you get.”

Moans continued to roll off his tongue, and with how loud he was getting, you were worried the neighbors would hear and complain. Connecting your lips as one, you swallowed all of Wonho’s moans as your own since you were the cause. 

When Wonho’s hands moved from his sides to yours, you didn’t complain. He pulled you closer to his chest, needing something to secure him as he was getting close again. 

“Please, I need to cum again.”

“Wait so we can finish together.” Finally, he listened for once. 

His grip tightened drastically, you knew that in the morning, there would be Wonho finger shaped bruises decorating your skin. Clenching down on him, you moved faster, trying to catch up with Wonho so you could make good of your suggestion. 

“Fuck, almost there Wonho, hold it.”

Your movements were sloppy, quick and with a purpose. It took only a couple more rolls of your hips before the both of you were coming undone. 

You felt your cum shoot out and when you looked at its landing place, it was all over Wonho’s abs. And his cum just added another layer to your walls. 

Heavy breathing and sweaty skin sliding together was the only thing you could pay attention to. The feeling and sounds of Wonho fogged your mind and when you looked at him, it was obvious he felt a similar way.

“You did so well. Let’s get you cleaned up okay?” Wonho nodded and allowed you to pull him up and off the couch. He followed your lead to the bathroom and watched you set up a bath for him, even adding bath salt to help with his post workout muscles. 

“Alright Wonho, it’s warm enough, let’s get in okay?” Your voice was back to its soft and quiet nature. 

“You’re not actually mad at me right? By posting the picture and everything?”

“Of course, I’m not mad! You’re hot and I love that you know that I just gotta show you who you belong to every now and then.”

Lavender Sunflower

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Female Reader

Preview: Normally, your body and mind refused to ever let you be in this stage, your guard was down, you were too relaxed. So happy, too happy, but Jeongin was able to do that, he was the only person to ever get you that relaxed. He was the only person you allowed yourself to not have your guard up around. He was Jeongin, and you loved Jeongin, a dangerous amount. Although dangerous, it was the only thing that kept you going.

Word Count: 7.1k

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, smut, established relationship

Warnings: Violence, murder, blood, knife use (not sexual...sorry guys), mature language/cursing, smut, possessiveness...JYP...doesn't make it out alive...he's also like a drug lord!

Smut Warnings: both are switches ig (not rlly dom/sub dynamic), tit/nipple play, slight body worship, riding, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control ig), it's pretty tame tbh, they dance sexually in a club!, mentioned breeding kink

a/n- i watched the show tulsa king with my parents, and it's a mob/gangster/mafia show, so that's why i wrote this, and jeongin has been bias wrecking me so... several months later: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER OMG also...ik added twice was a little odd, but i just wanted to imagine them holding guns! also...the fight scene is silly...I may rewrite it...I may not!

“How about I get you another drink, something stronger?” The voice coming from your side caused you to lose the staring contest you were having with the man across the club. When you looked over at him, you had to stop yourself from wrinkling your nose and frowning. He was gross, to say the least. He was much older, dressed like a pimp, unkempt facial hair with food stuck in his beard, obviously prowling on young women. The human form of a pig.

Faking a smile, you politely declined his offer, knowing that he’d appreciate you playing hard to get. “I’m okay, thank you though.” Attempting to go back to staring at the man across the club, the man next to you decided that your rejection didn’t actually mean ‘no’. You felt him pull you closer to him by the arm that was now draped across your shoulders, his hand venturing near the swell of your breast. “Come on baby, I can show you a good time, l rented us a private room in the back. Your little friend over there can come watch me play with you too.” Glancing at the man mentioned, his jaw clenched and slightly nodded, just enough for you to notice it but discreet as well, so no one else did.

Giggling to cover up your discomfort when his hand squeezed your whole breast, you nodded eagerly, letting him take your hand, and leading you to the room. Trailing a bit behind him, as much as you could with his tight grip on your wrist. With the ability to see the back of his neck, you saw what you needed. The tip of a flame, a tattoo that symbolizes what he’s a part of, who he is. A skull on fire, in a circle of barbed wire.

Since the pig-man couldn’t see your face, your smile dropped, preparing for what was about to happen. The man from across the bar followed you once he was passed, your nerves were settled when you felt his hand on your lower back, standing guard behind you, not letting the pig-man out of his sight.

Your hand that wasn’t being held tightly traveled behind you, seeking the man across the bar’s. He returned your request to hold hands, immediately engulfing yours into his. The club was loud enough for him to whisper into your ear without the pig-man hearing, but with how much hair is growing in his ears, you doubt he had the best hearing anyways.

“It’ll be okay, just remember the plan, I’ll be right here if he pulls anything.” Although he broke character for the moment, you greatly appreciated the reassurance, thanking him with a nod of your head in his direction.

The pig-man stopped walking when he got to one of the many doors in the back of the club. You heard other women behind the series of the doors, some making sounds of pleasure, others of pain. He turned around and flashed you a smile of stained, yellow teeth. Remembering your role, you batted your eyelashes and bit your bottom lip seductively.

“Ladies first.” He stayed in the doorway, beer belly sticking out, forcing you to rub against him to get through the doorway. Pig-man moved for the man from across the club, but still let him go first, trying to assert his dominance.

Pig-man pointed at you and then the bed, he did the same to the man but to the chair in the corner. The cuck chair.

“Take off your clothes baby.” You looked at the man and then back to the pig-man. Throwing him your cheekiest smile you responded with, “Mmm, no. You first, wanna see you.” Both men smiled, for very different reasons.

“Now, now, darlin’ that isn’t what I told you to do, you’re going to listen to me. I don’t give a shit if I end up having to force you or not, but I will get what I want from you.” You felt disgusted when his smoky breath fanned across your face, and it was even worse when he kissed you, shoving his tongue in your mouth and wrapping his hand around your neck.

You looked at the other man and he nodded at you, telling you he was ready. Just as the pig-man shoved his hand up your dress to cup your sex, the other man grabbed his hair from his scalp, pulling him off of you. As he was about to yell, you saw him place a cloth over his mouth and nose, making him breath in the chemicals and then collapsing.

The pig-man’s dead weight crushed your body until he was rolled off of you. You looked up in the dimly lit room and smiled at the other man. “Jeongin”. He helped you off the velvet bed, kicked the pig-man just for good measure and walked to the bag he had set by the chair, managing to keep it out of the pig-man’s sight.

“That was fucking awful to witness and I’m sorry you had to go through that, but we got him.” Jeongin pulled you into his arms after taking out what he needed from the bag. The feeling of his hands on you now was much better than the pair that was on you. “As long as we get what we need, then it’ll be okay.” You breathed in the scent that was purely Jeongin and let him go to allow him to get back to work.

You sat in the chair that Jeongin was occupying and watched him tie the pig-man up, securing him to one of the legs of the bed. You watched him make sure that there was no way he could get out without any assistance. “Now, we wait for him to wake up. I didn’t use too much chloroform just so we wouldn’t be sitting here for hours. But in case we are, it’s a good thing this fucker rented the room for the rest of the night.” As Jeongin walked back to you, you heard him whisper the word ‘perv’ towards the now tied up man. You got up just enough for Jeongin to slide in the seat and he pulled you down to sit on his lap.

For the next 40 minutes, you sat in Jeongin’s lap, playing with his hair and fingers while discussing and double checking the rest of the plan. You were interrupted by the groggily noises of the pig-man, everything muffled by the rag in his mouth. When his eyes finally opened completely, he looked around, stopping once he saw you and Jeongin. The man below you picked you up just to softly place you down again but not on him. He sat you back in the chair, kissed your hair and approached the pig-man.

“Wha-” He was stopped by Jeongin, slapping him in the face. “This is how this is gonna go, you’re going to shut the fuck up until I ask you something, and once that happens, you’re going to answer me, honestly. Understand?” The pig-man just nodded.

Jeongin removed the rag from his mouth and pulled out the small notebook he kept in his back pocket. “So I’ve been told that your name is Paul Bianco, also known as “The Tiger”, you’re obviously a part of the Flaming Skulls, stupid name but whatever, is this all correct?” Formerly known as the pig-man to you, Paul nodded.

“Who sent you?” His voice was shaky, scared of Jeongin, who just sighed and rolled his eyes. “The fuck did I tell you before this started?” Without receiving an answer, you watched Jeongin pull out his switchblade and step forward, bringing himself closer to Paul. He crouched down to his level and brought the knife up to Paul’s cheek.

Digging the tip of the knife through the flesh of Paul’s cheek, Jeongin started talking again, louder than Paul’s cries and pleas. “I’m gonna hurt you no matter what you do, but I’ll go easy on you if you just follow my directions. Now, I need to know one fucking thing. Who killed Hwang Hyunjin? Just give me the name and we’ll be on our way.”

Paul started shaking his head, not wanting to give away the answer. “Come on man, I have a family, a wife, kids, please let me go.” Jeongin looked behind him, at you, shaking his head, “If you’re such a family man then why were you trying to pull something on my girlfriend?”

“Well you know, the wife’s gotten older, can’t please me in the way a man wants.” He laughed sleazily, Jeongin started laughing back, mocking the man. “And your girlfriend over there, she’s just so pretty and she was there, and I-I-I thought maybe she could-” he lost his voice when the tip of Jeongin’s knife returned to Paul’s neck.

Jeongin’s fake laugh continued, louder, “Yeah, I know she’s pretty,” his laughter stopped, his voice now serious, dripping with venom, “but just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean she’s there for free use.” Jeongin’s fist made contact with Paul’s nose, snapping something in it. He stepped back and watched Paul’s cheeks wet with tears and blood. Blood pouring out of both nostrils, dripping into his mouth, he started sputtering, trying to speak without swallowing the thick, red liquid that was starting to spill onto the already stained carpet.

“Paul, Paul, Paul, all I asked was a question, and then you insulted me, acting like you own the love of my life. So I’ll ask you again. Who the fuck, killed Hwang Hyunjin?” Jeongin’s sentence ended with the sound of his gun cocking, pointing it right between Paul’s eyes.

The man started squirming, “Okay, okay! I’ll tell you, please just don’t kill me, I’ll answer anything and everything you want! I’ll apologize to your girlfriend!” Paul looked over at you and started begging for forgiveness, apologizing profusely.

Jeongin approved of the man’s begs but didn’t put down the gun. “So, since you seem to struggle with my main question, I’ll ask some other things that I need to know. First, in 2018, who was the rat that snuck into my company?” Paul answered immediately, and he didn’t hesitate with the next several questions either, giving away information as he was trembling, terrified for his life.

You sat back in the chair, taking notes after Jeongin tossed you his little notebook. Refusing to miss a single thing, you jotted down everything, in case the information was needed later on.

But Jeongin’s patience had worn thin, now only wanting the answer that got the both of you here. “Now. I’m not going to ask again, who killed Hwang Hyunjin?” It was technically a question, but Jeongin made it sound like a demand. Paul Bianco didn’t have any time left. And he knew that, so he gave in.

“Park Jinyoung killed your friend.” And there he had it. Jeongin finally had the name of the man that killed Hyunjin. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” But Paul was still a nervous wreck.

“Don’t tell him I ratted him out, please, he’ll kill me!” You had picked up Jeongin’s bag and walked over to him. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him killing you.” Paul’s blood ran cold, “But, I answered all your questions! I complied! Please don’t kill me, why would you kill me?”

Jeongin walked over to the door, his hand on the handle, he turned half of his body so he could keep the gun lined up with Paul’s head.

“Because you touched my girlfriend.” And with that, Jeongin pulled the trigger, and the pig-man’s body went limp, blood puddling around him, coming out of the hole that was now in his head.

Jeongin turned the doorknob and walked out, pulling you with him. “Jisung already has control of the security cameras, so we won’t be seen on those. And with him renting the room, it’s under his name, not ours.” You continued down the hallway, not going back through the crowd of people dancing. The side door was deserted, no one near, not even bouncers for the club.

There was one person though, waiting in a car, for the two of you. Jeongin opened the door and helped you in, getting settled in the car and finally taking a deep breath for the first time in hours. Exhaustion was taking over his body now that the adrenalin was no longer running through his veins.

“Hey Jeongin, Miss. Y/n. Are you guys, okay?” The car was now moving and the accent that belonged to Bang Chan filled the car. The both of you just nodded, but Jeongin spoke up, not to answer his question though. “Park Jinyoung. That bastard killed Hyunjin.” Chan let out an exhale that sounded like a whistle, continuing to drive.

You laid your head on Jeongin’s shoulder and looked at what he was doing on his phone, you saw his messages with Minho, Jeongin telling him to track Jinyoung down. Minho responded by telling the younger man to take the weekend off, as he’s been under a lot of pressure and stress recently.

“It would be good for you, to take a bit of time for yourself. We could go somewhere secluded, just for a few days. It would be nice, Jeongin.” Chan overheard the conversation and spoke up, “Minho already told me to take you to one of the houses, I thought you knew…” Jeongin groaned, not wanting to stop working, and you just giggled, excited to truly be alone with him.

Jeongin was about to argue but he could see your excitement, so he didn’t say anything, he texted Minho back to say thank you and allowed Chan to take them wherever Minho had sent them. With his trust in Chan mixed with the warmth of your soft body next to him, he allowed himself to lay his head on yours and close his eyes.

You hadn’t realized that you fell asleep until Jeongin was whispering you awake, stating that you’ve arrived at the house. Taking off your seatbelt, Jeongin helped your tired self out of the car, making sure you didn’t hit your head on the roof of the vehicle.

When you were fully out of the vehicle and got a view of the house Minho had sent you to, your eagerness took over the drowsiness. It was one of the beach houses, along the coast. You could hear the waves crashing into the dock and you could smell the water. Barely letting Jeongin say goodbye to Chan, you grabbed his hand and ran to the door of the house.

“We’re alone, we’re alone together for once.” You whispered into the air, Chan had driven off so only Jeongin and the wind heard you. You leaned over the railing on the balcony, the door to get inside was behind you but you paid no attention to that. Your attention was set on how the moonlight was reflecting onto the water.

Having no intentions of moving inside, you involuntarily shivered and Jeongin was wrapping his arms around you, suggesting that the two of you settle down. You let him gently pull you inside, the heat engulfing you immediately, the goosebumps that had risen on your skin were no longer there.

“I’m going to unpack our bags, you get comfortable.” You looked over at said bags that Minho had had his assistants pack for the two of you and honestly didn’t care about those. You just wanted him to stay close to you. Jeongin was behind you, leaning on you while you leaned on the kitchen island. He spoke into your hair and whispered his love for you while walking away. He kept a hand on you until he was too far, letting it trail behind him, trying to keep you close for as long as possible.

While he was piddling around upstairs, getting everything set up, you hooked up your phone to the TV. Playing music through the surround sound speakers, it was quiet, but everywhere. You looked outside the window, watching the waves, swaying your body to the music. All the lights were off except for the small ones underneath the cabinets. To enhance the calming mood even more, you lit a candle, a clean scent.

So caught up in your own world, you didn’t notice that Jeongin had returned until his knuckles lightly knocked on the wall, the one with his side pressed against. Jeongin would be happy if he never did anything but watch you for the rest of his life.

Your voice was slow and quiet, tiredness evident on your face but even though Jeongin wanted you to get some rest, he couldn’t help but allow you to subconsciously pull him to you. “Dance with me, please?”

How could he say no to you?

The slow and calm yet sultry music being played on the TV in the next room, casted from your phone mixed well with the candle burning a clean scent on the kitchen island, the mood finished with moonlight flooding the otherwise dark room. It was perfect.

When Jeongin reached you the first thing he felt was the thin satin dress that covered your otherwise bare body. “Are you not cold?” Always putting your comfort first, Jeongin asked you as soon as he felt just how thin your dress was. “Yes, but I’m okay, you know I’d rather be cold than hot.” He accepted your excuse but still pulled you as close as humanly possible, you wanted to dance so he was going to dance with you and warm you up.

‘What are you waiting for? (Ooh, yeah) You got me lost in the clutch of you (lost in you)’

You and Jeongin swayed back and forth, feeling the salty breeze come through the open door, chilling your skin, but neither of you cared. When you were with each other neither of you could bring yourself to care about what was happening around you. Too caught up in the feeling of each other. You wondered if you would love each other as much as you do now if you hadn’t gone through everything together. Ever since you were kids, the training, the missions, your parents’ disappointment for their respective child. Always having the weight of the world on your back, but with the other walking next to you, it was more bearable. You and Jeongin danced together a lot, it was your guys’ way of winding down from the work heavy day.

The world could be on fire, and you believed that you and Jeongin would dance through it, until you couldn’t dance anymore, until your last breath.

You kept swaying, the playlist continuing to provide you with rhythms. Your eyes burned, too tired, needing to close them. So you did, you didn’t intend on actually falling asleep, especially standing up in Jeongin’s arms, but you couldn’t help it.

Jeongin noticed your limp body and smiled. “Let’s go to bed.” You were now in the hypnagogic stage, half awake, half asleep. Stirring when Jeongin stopped swaying but still calm enough to be relaxed.

Normally, your body and mind refused to ever let you be in this stage, your guard was down, you were too relaxed. So happy, too happy, but Jeongin was able to do that, he was the only person to ever get you that relaxed. He was the only person you allowed yourself to not have your guard up around. He was Jeongin, and you loved Jeongin, a dangerous amount. Although dangerous, it was the only thing that kept you going.

You grumbled when you smelled the smoke from the candle Jeongin blew out, but you still didn’t wake up fully, you heard the music stop, and then ascend up the stairs when he carried you in his arms. He stood you upright on your feet once you entered the room. He helped you get dressed into pajamas, so you’d be much more comfortable. He made sure you were okay before helping you lay into bed. Feeling the smooth, cold sheets under you, you sighed, finally calm enough to let your muscles relax. Always on the run, always stressed, always feeling something other than happiness. Jeongin was what kept you alive, and he made sure you knew that you were his world.

“Jeongin?” Your tired eyes opened a bit more, enough to watch him remove his shirt and slip on some sweats, revealing the hard muscles covered in tattoos and scars, too much pain imprinted on his body for his age, but you couldn’t say anything different about your own. Minus all the tattoos, you had a few, but not nearly as many as Jeongin had.

He looked over his shoulder at you and hummed, urging you to continue. “Can you leave the door open a bit please? I want to feel the breeze.” Without denying you or letting you know he was going to open the door; he just did. The door had a screen behind it, making sure no rodents or big bugs made their way in. He left the screen door fully shut but cracked the actual door a bit. You watched him bend down to grab the thick wooden rod, which he placed in the door’s track, so no one could open the door enough to enter the room from the outside.

Making sure the door was as secure as it could be with following your request of leaving it open, he turned around to face you in the bed. He slid in, laying in the middle of the bed so he could reach you. Your body was slack so when Jeongin pulled you to him, there was no resistance. This was how you always slept, your body curled up, and Jeongin’s curled up behind you, an act of protection, even in his sleep. His hands were wrapped around your stomach, always ready to pull you back if someone tried to take you from him.

Listening to the wind whistle and feeling the breeze on your skin along with Jeongin’s steady breath on your neck, you returned to sleep, wishing to stay in this state of mind with Jeongin forever.

However, all good things must come to an end. The alarm clock of habit in your head made sure you didn’t sleep past seven in the morning, but given you had an extremely late night, it cut you some slack. When you finally blinked your eyes open, in the fuzzy, morning sight, you saw that the actual alarm clock on the bed side table read ‘9:32’.

Jeongin’s arm was still wrapped around you, in the same position he was in when he fell asleep, ever the snoozer. But when he felt you rustle, he finally moved, but his movements were fluid, not being held back with the stiffness of sleep.

“Did you just wake up?” Your voice was hoarse, complimenting your dry throat perfectly.

“No, I’ve been up since seven, just decided to stay in bed.” He kissed the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair.

You rolled over, causing Jeongin to do the same. “I’m glad you were able to sleep in.” He looked over at you, smiling at your hair covering your face.

“I’m sorry you weren’t.” He shrugged the best he could while lying down but you still didn’t like how he brushed it off, he needed the sleep, just as much as you if not more.

“Well this was what we signed up for.” Both of you stared up at the ceiling, tired of everything. So young but already cursed with the evils of the world. “We didn’t sign up for shit Jeongin, we were born into this mess. My parents and your parents had us just to be the next heirs of their stupid ass gangster mob.” You rolled your eyes and rolled over to face him. The slight breeze entered the room through the opening, only protected by the screen door.

You wholeheartedly believed that if you hadn’t fallen in love with Jeongin you would’ve ended everything by now, blinded by the bad and unable to see what good was still left in the world. Jeongin was the only good still left in the world, or at least the only thing you cared enough about at this point.

Even though the both of you should probably talk about your problems more, whenever you do, you’d get tired of it, quickly.

“I love you Jeongin.” You rolled over on your side and looked at him. He smiled and did the same, now facing you as well. Jeongin reached for you, “I love you too, thanks for putting up with me and my shit.” You just laughed and sat up a bit, just enough to lean over to him, placing your lips on his.

Jeongin tightened his arms around you, moving them down to your hips, you giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile. Pulling back slightly, taking in his features, he was smiling with his eyes, something he rarely ever did. You kissed his smile and shivered, the wind picking up, reminding you that you forgot to close the door. What was going to be just a small peck deepened, like always.

You decided to go with the flow and take it a step further.

Hoisting yourself up on your left knee, you swung your right one over Jeongin’s hips. With a lazy smile, his hands drug up your legs, caressing the skin until they lightly grasp your hips.

Leaning down to connect your lips, the both of you smiled into the kiss, your teeth lightly touched, and you pulled back to giggle. “Jeongin~” He rolled your hips into his. The clothed friction was nice, but not enough.

Jeongin could feel your need, the urgency evident in your shallow thrusts. “Lift up a bit” you listened to his soft voice, lifting your hips so he could hook his thumbs in your shorts and panties waistband and pull them down all at once. After they were over your ass, you finished removing them yourself. And while you were off of Jeongin, you took the opportunity to pull down his own sweats and briefs.

You had to hold yourself from physically jumping on him, but it seemed like he was having the same debate. The room was quiet except for your breathing and the sound of the rain pitter pattering outside. The cold drops falling from the sky just intensified the chilled draft in the room, but with your bare skin against Jeongin’s, it was tolerable.

Sitting back on Jeongin’s pelvis, you leaned down, slotting your lips against his. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, your pebbled nipples taunt against his own. The feeling of the nubs flicking against each other caused your back to dip in an arch. With your back arching your pussy rubbed against Jeongin’s cock. The wet lips of your cunt spread slightly at the intrusion of his dick, your arousal lubing him up enough that once you lifted your hips just enough to take his cock in your hand and slip it in your wanton hole.

Jeongin groaned against your mouth, taking the back of your neck in his hand and using it as leverage to push your mouth to his even more.

Moving your hips while laying down proved to be more challenging than you had originally thought. Placing a longing kiss against his lips once more, you pushed off Jeongin’s chest and held your back straight, allowing your hips to move freely.

Feeling his cock move so deeply within you, you could feel him in your stomach, just below your belly button. Needing more, you lifted off him for a second before slamming back down and speeding up your moments.

Jeongin placed his hands on the curve of your hips and dug his nails in slightly. Biting his lip and matching your thrusts, he was entranced by the sight above him.

Your eyes were glossed over, so overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your veins, your hair was a mess, not only from being asleep but also the movement, baby hairs sticking to your face from the sweat that was starting to form. But although these were all gorgeous sights to Jeongin, what took first place was your bouncing tits. With every thrust they would cause a slapping sound from them bouncing back and hitting your skin.

Moving his hands from your hips and trailing his fingertips along your soft skin, Jeongin grabbed your chest. Playing with the mounds of flesh sitting heavy in his hands, he squished them, pushed them together, and pinched your nipples.

Pinching them particularly tightly, you squealed and clenched your pussy around his cock. Jeongin groaned, feeling the constriction that had surrounded him.

You shivered again, but this time wasn’t because of Jeongin. The breeze coming from outside began to pick up. Nipples pulled taunt from the cold air wrapping around your body, the feeling was contrasted by Jeongin’s warm fingers going back to playing with them.

Everything soon became almost too much. Each roll of your hips caused his tip to brush against the gummy spot inside of you, plus your clit would meet with the bone of his pelvis, causing two sources of stimulation, or course without mentioning the attention and torture your breasts were receiving.

Each pinch and thrust caused little shocks of electricity to shoot throughout your body and those little bursts of pleasure fueled you to move faster. Jeongin picked up on your impatience and decided to take things into his own hands.

Flipping over, your back hit the soft, plush bedding. Jeongin took a hold under your knee, and hoisted your leg above his shoulder, resting it on the broad muscle. Jackhammering his hips into yours, the sound of the rain was no longer heard and the wind hitting your body was ignored. All you could hear was the sound of you and your lover’s skin meeting and all you could feel was the knot in your lower stomach hanging on by a threat.

Your edge was so close but still out of reach, crying out, you gripped Jeongin’s arms, feeling the muscles hidden underneath the skin flex from the feeling of your nails digging in.

Soon his thrusts turned sloppy, unable to hold a consistent rhythm. Dropping to his left elbow, he hid his face in your neck, ruthlessly sucking and biting at your sweet spot. But that wasn’t enough for either of you, with his free hand, he traveled it down your body to the apex of your thighs. Taking his middle and ring finger, he relentlessly played with the nub of nerves.

All of a sudden, you broke. Yelling out into the air, you closed your eyes and clamped your legs against Jeongin’s torso. His hips chased his own high, barely letting you ride out yours, he kept you in that moment of white heat until his own high hit him.

Groaning into your hair, his hips snapped slower, finally allowing you to ride out your high, his thrusts turned into shallow rolls. Your hips no longer met and soon your muscles didn’t jolt periodically as you were finally coming back to the ground, no longer up in the clouds.

Jeongin stayed hidden in your hair for a few minutes, just holding you close to his body, protecting you from anything and everything.

“I love you, so fucking much. And, I’m gonna get us out of this life, I promise. We finish this last mission, and we can move away. Move away to the middle of nowhere, fill it with our kids.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling too hard. “Can we have a wrap-around porch?”

“Yeah, a wrap-around porch and whatever else you want. I’ll give you the fucking world.”

Scratching Jeongin’s scalp, your smile couldn’t be contained once he let out a purr like sound. You giggled and kissed the side of his head.

“Jeongin, let’s go clean up.” Shaking his head, Jeongin just tightened his grip on you.

The sweet and comfortable moment that was once filled with playing with Jeongin’s hair and listening to the rain was ruined by the blaring noise of Jeongin’s phone ringing.

He groaned in your hair again, this time from annoyance but nonetheless rolled off of you and onto his back. Blindly reaching for his phone, Jeongin mumbled a couple of curses.

Once his fingertips were able to grasp the phone, he brought it to his vision and groaned at the caller ID.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were the one who told me to take this break.”

You couldn’t hear the other person but you followed in Jeongin’s path and laid on his chest, drawing circles on the span of his chest.

“Are you serious? I finally get a fucking moment to just breathe with my girlfriend and you take it away! There are 15 other people a part of our team. Literally pair up Seungmin and Momo, boom I just fixed it for you!”

Jeongin rubbed your arm, kissed your head, and rolled out from under you. He stood up straight, with his back to you, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. You smiled at the sight of his bare ass and you couldn’t help but reach out and pinch the temptingly soft skin.

The man on the phone jumped a bit, startled by your joke. Rolling back over to your original position, you just smiled at him, it wasn’t innocent, but playful.

Jeongin turned to face you and looked at you. How your hair was a mess from him running his fingers through it, how your skin had that after sex glow to it, and how your eyes were set on him. It was evident that you loved him and he knew that you would never know the extent of his love for you. He couldn’t even fathom it.

Without his smile faltering, he ended the phone call with a, “Okay jackass, thanks for ruining my day.” But even if his smile stood its ground, yours didn’t. Molding your lips into frown, you brought up the sheet, intending for him to slide back into bed. Your intentions were innocent, but of course, Jeongin was given the view of your body, freshly marked with kisses and bruises from him. Raising his eyebrows and smiling growing sinister, he climbed back into bed, accepting your invitation.

“Get whatever is in your head out. I’m tired again.” You poked at his chest accusingly, but the both of you knew that there wasn’t a single complaint behind each jab at his pec.

“So, what was that all about?” You were worried from the little snippet of the conversation that we were able to hear. “We have another mission tonight.” Jeongin rolled his eyes, annoyed that someone is trying to steal your alone time away.

“What is it?” You didn’t move from your spot, even though you probably should sooner rather than later. “Park Jinyoung has some giant drug trade at a club tonight, one of the guys who snuck into his team told us. You and I are supposed to play the unsuspicious horny couple on the dance floor. When we see him move to the basement of the club, we’re supposed to pretend to head to the bathroom to “bang” but follow them when they aren't looking.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why are all the guys we have to hunt down hiding in clubs?" Your back was still pressed flushed to Jeongin's chest as you swayed to the music sensually, but still aware of your surroundings. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth next to your ear, "Because men are disgusting." He kissed your neck when you giggled.

"You're a man, what does that say about you?" Smirking and side eyeing him, waiting for his answer. "I have my own disgusting thoughts about you, but I keep them to myself." You felt his tongue trace the shell of your ear.

Jeongin always managed to set a fire deep within your core. His hands were sliding down your sides and landed on your hips. He was wearing a black button down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoos. The veins that ran up and down the length of his exposed skin distracted you, you wanted the muscles to flex, causing his veins to become more prominent.

“I know you like my arms and hands baby, but you gotta stay on task.” You could feel his smile against your neck and his hardening dick on your ass. Tearing your eyes from their desired view, you moved your head to the side, towards Jeongin’s ear. “You’re the one that’s off task, you’re getting hard just from dancing.”

“With grinding against an ass like yours, no one can really blame me.”

Letting out a soft moan at the feeling of his lips sucking a bruise into your neck, you rolled your hips back against his crotch. “Jeongin, we can’t right now.” You wanted to, but you simply couldn’t.

“You’re right, it’s just so hard, you make me so hard.” Jeongin tightened his grip on your hips and turned you around. He planted a harsh yet passionate on your lips and forced his tongue through your lips. Your hands took purchase in his hair and pulled the strands taunt. His hands did the same but with the skin on your ass. He squeezed the muscle so tightly; you were sure that he’d leave handprints.

Moaning and gasping into the other’s mouth, you ignored your surroundings, which was not something the two of you did often. Jeongin kicked your legs apart and bent his knee a bit, allowing you to use his thigh. “Jeongin” you moaned, the music drowning out your noises.

~Jeongin!~

Hearing Jeongin’s name through the earpieces broke the two of you out of whatever spell you were under.

~We can see both of you. Please stick to the plan. The target is on the move.” ~

You rolled your eyes and looked around, continuing to dance with Jeongin. He’s just as irritated as soon as he is lost in the vision of you. He’s taken right back out of it. Grumbling, Jeongin gripped your hips and continued to sway to the music.

“Alright, I see him. It's time baby.” You smiled, happy that this was going to be your last mission.

You watched as Park Jinyoung and his men headed to the basement, leaving their spots at the bar vacant. You nodded at Momo, who played bartender for the night. She winked at you, letting you know that she was able to spike their drinks. Following their path, you and Jeongin stopped at the bathroom line, he pushed you against the wall so you could peek over his shoulder, keeping your eyes on the man of the hour.

“Okay, they’re all inside, they didn’t leave anyone as a lookout.” You whispered into Jeongin’s neck, but before pulling away, you left a teasing kiss. He looked down at you with a glare, but you knew there was no malicious intent behind it.

Jeongin nodded at the security camera, knowing that Jisung was watching the two of you.

~Alright everyone, let’s go~

Changbin walked past Jeongin, tapping his back to give him the signal. The two of you followed him down the stairs into the basement. Ducking below all the windows that separated you to them, you headed to the door.

Chan, Naeyeon, Sana, and Felix were ready to attack them from the other side of the room. Then, Minho and Seungmin were placed as bouncers, guarding the two main doors into the club. The back door was being watched by Tyuzu and Jeongyeon. Lastly, Chaeyoung and Jihyo were ready to attack if they got past everyone else.

Mina and Dahyun, as the getaway drivers, were waiting for the 15 of you to get out of there before the police showed up once they were called. It was a large team, but Park Jinyoung had a sea of men behind him, and just tonight, there were probably 30 littered around the club. But you guys had rage feuling you. The death of your team member and friend was enough to make you kill anyone that stood in your way.

~3~

Changbin, Jeongin, and you all looked at each other. Changbin had handed you weapons during the descent of the stairs, they were now loaded and cocked back.

~2~

The three of you took a collective breath.

~1~

Fixing your footing, you and Jeongin smiled at each other.

~Now~

Changbin kicked down the door, Chan did the same on the other side, and you, Jeongin, Sana, and Felix all took cover behind various objects around the room. Open fire rained down. Park Jinyoung made a run for it, leaving his men to fight his battles for him. No one was able to get a direct shot at him, Sana was only able to skim his shoulder as he ran upstairs.

You could hear people yelling upstairs, but with Seungmin, Minho, and Momo as the next line of defense, you weren’t worried.

~I got him guys~

Of course, it was Seungmin.

~We’re gonna head out to the cars and pull around back~

The showdown didn’t last as long as you thought it would. Obviously, they weren’t expecting to be raided as they quickly ran out of ammo.

“Alright, I think we got them all, let’s get out of here guys.” Chan spoke the first words since the raid began and you were relieved that it was over. Or at least, Jeongin and you were going to ask for it to be the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We can’t promise that the two of you will never be called but I can promise that you will be called significantly less.” Jeongin and you had asked Minho if you could have a talk with him. He understood as the two of you are getting older and this isn’t the life you wanted nor the life you signed up for.

“Thank you sir.” Nodding your heads in thanks, you turned your backs to him, ready to leave.

“One thing!” Minho called once your hand grasped the door handle. Turning around, Jeongin was able to grab whatever Minho had thrown your way in mid air. Once the object hit his hand, a jingle was heard.

“Enjoy that wrap around porch. The team and I will be sure to visit once you get settled”.

sweat pumpin', heart thumpin' — lc

summary: when you get horny at rehearsal you want nothing more than to go home and take care of your problem, but you get stopped when chan asks you to run a dance with him, in the end you find a way to help each other out

tags: smut (minors dni!), theatre/dancer!au warnings: brief mentions of idol x idol, sweat, age gap (reader is ten years older than chan), explicit unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, mirror sex, pussy drunk chan, praise, chan is obsessed with the reader wc: 4.0k an: horny theatre adults 🤥 lowkey the reader talks like she’s old as fuck but she’s only thirty-two

Three hours. That's how long you've been at dance rehearsal. Three hours, yet it feels like it's been a lifetime.

The air in the room is humid from the heat radiating off of everyone's bodies. The studio is a mess with clothes long discarded on the perimeters of the marley and water bottles and dance bags crowding up the walkways. 

Your head and feet are throbbing as you run the routine again. Soonyoung is shouting the steps out as you do them but you've been tuning him out since the hour and a half mark. 

You're a dancer, you love your job, but you don't love five hour long night rehearsals right after your shift at your second job as a diner waitress. Your muscles ache and scream at you as you push them to do the moves again and again and again. There's no stopping though. Not when Soonyoung is in one of his moods and you could cut the tension between him and Jihoon with a knife, as Jihoon glares at the choreographer over the top of the piano. You're not sure if the producer knew those two were dating when he hired them on as the music director and choreographer but it's clear the two of them are struggling to separate work and home in whatever new fight they're in this week. 

Beside you Mingyu stops, huffing a bit before lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. You don't bother trying to hide the way you stare at his body. Everyone here knows he's hot, including himself. So you allow yourself to take a good, long look at his tanned, hardened abs, glistening with his sweat. You try to ignore the tingle you feel in your core but you can't lie to yourself and pretend you're not turned on right now when your underwear has been wet since the start of rehearsal.

Though it may be pubescent, you can't help it. You've had a long day, a long week, and now right before your weekend starts you're trapped in a dance studio with a couple dozen sweaty, sexy dancers. It also doesn't help that you're all dying of heat and stripping off clothes left and right. Minghao's shirt has been off since the end of the first number and Jeonghan's wearing those tiny shorts again, so tight you can see the outline of his balls. It's not just the boys who are driving you mad though, Sana has been walking around with her cleavage hanging out of her shirt and Mina's sports bra does nothing to hide the pebbling of her nipples underneath.

It’s not just you feeling the energy of the room though. You can see the strain of Jun’s dick against his gray sweats and you keep catching Vernon staring directly at Seungkwan’s ass. None of you can help it though, it’s hard not to get aroused by the sound of the pants and grunts surrounding you.

“Okay guys, that’s a ten!” The stage manager calls and you all let out a collective sigh of relief. Your body sags automatically, all of your perfect form leaving your muscles.

You trudge over to your water bottle, gulping down as much of the cool liquid as you can. You don’t want to sit, fearing that if you do you’ll never get up, but your knees physically cannot hold you up any longer and you allow yourself to sink to the ground. You kick off your shoes and dig around in your bag before pulling out a couple bandaids to patch up where your heels are starting to blister.

When you’re sure your break is over you glance across the room to see Soonyoung standing next to Jihoon’s piano, the two seemingly locked in a heated conversation. You’re a bit grateful, knowing that your stage manager isn’t stupid enough to come in between the two of them when they’re like this. Maybe they’ll argue for long enough that rehearsal will end early. If that happened you could go home and take care of your problem.

Even while on break you can’t escape the lust that clouds your brain. Only a few feet away from you, you can see the way Seokmin presses up against Jihyo, whispering in her ear as she giggles at whatever he said, her hand placed on his upper thigh. Just to their right Momo’s hands are all over Nayeon as she helps fix Nayeon’s form for a specific move. God you really hope you’re not leaking through your shorts.

You’re about to get up to start practicing again when Soonyoung walks away from Jihoon and over to the group.

“Great work today everybody. I know we were supposed to be here for two more hours but I’m sure you guys aren’t complaining about getting your weekend faster so let’s release early today. See you all again on Monday.”

Everyone starts to hurriedly pack up, ready to go home or out to a bar to start their weekend off. Your body doesn’t want to move yet so you stay put, now knowing you have all the time in the world to pack up.

Almost everyone is gone when you finally start to pack up. Almost everyone, besides Lee Chan. Just as you’re about to stand up and leave when he walks over to you, his form hovering over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him.

“You know the Valerie part right?”

“Huh?” You’re not sure what he wanted, but you definitely weren't expecting that.

“You’re the understudy for the role of Valerie, so you know the Fast Pace choreography, right?”

“Uhm…yeah…why?”

“Could you run it with me?”

No. Is your automatic thought. You’re sweaty and tired and horny and you just want to go home. You’re getting one night to go home early and you’re not going to spend it doing even more rehearsing.

Lee Chan is the youngest person in the cast at the age of twenty-two. He’s new to the theatre scene, but his talent far outshines his novice, as shown by him landing the lead role in his first big professional musical. You admire his ambition to rehearse as hard as he can, but a part of you is worried the kid is gonna pass out from exhaustion.

You remember when you were like him, a prodigy back when you started. You had to learn the hard way to stop overworking yourself. Now being in your thirties, you still put out your best work, but without all of the extra hours.

“Kid, I’ve seen you run that number, it’s flawless. Take the night off.” You hike your bag up on your shoulder to try and signal that whether or not he wants to run it, you do not.

“Please! Just once. I promise I’ll be done after that. I’ll even walk you to your car!” Chan begs. You snort a bit at the ending offer, but it’s not enough to fully convince you.

“I’m not putting my Laduca’s back on.” You think about your forming blisters on your feet and cringe.

“You don’t have to! Please?”

Chan’s a cutie, you do have to admit that. Which is why you find yourself sighing and dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“Just once and then I’m going home.”

“Thank you so much!” Chan quickly runs over to the speakers and hooks his phone up. You move to the center of the dance studio, watching through the mirror as Chan hurries back over to you.

The rhythmic beat of the song starts to play and you slip into your stage persona. Your body moves on its own, the choreography ingrained in your muscles as you and Chan move swiftly around each other. You can feel the slight pain in your feet but your mind gets distracted by Chan running his hand down your back. 

You feel his body right next to yours and you try to suppress a moan. Somehow in between all of Chan’s begging you seemed to forget how sexually charged Fast Pace is. Chan presses his body up against yours and you do your best to continue on with the dance while ignoring the throbbing in your core. You’ve only run this dance with the understudy for Chan’s character and while the sexual tension is still apparent with him, you feel like you’re suffocating from it right now. Chan’s hands linger on you, his body pressing a bit too tight to yours.

Your breaking point is when you have to sit on Chan’s knee, his arm hooking around your thigh a beat. When Chan goes to unhook his arm from your leg his hand brushes against your inner thigh, not quite touching your crotch but enough to catch you off guard.

“F-fuck Chan,” you mutter.

“Are you okay?” Chan asks, his hand sliding up your back. You’re sure it’s to comfort you, but all it does is make your brain more fuzzy.

“Y-yeah, you’re just- uhm…nothing. I’m fine. Let’s just start over.”

“...Okay.” Chan moves over to the speakers to restart the song before getting back in place.

The song starts again and you push down every horny thought floating through your mind right now in favor of focusing on the dance. You think you’re doing pretty good until Chan’s body presses up against yours once more and you gasp.

“Holy shit Chan. Are you…hard?” You can feel the subtle press of something firm against your hip that could really only be one thing.

Behind you, Chan whimpers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just…you’ve been my celebrity crush since I was like fourteen and it’s a dream that I get to be in the same cast as you. And you’re just so hot when you dance so I asked you to run this dance with me and touching you is driving me crazy but I didn’t mean to actually get a boner and I’m so sorry-”

You shut Chan up by surging forward, capturing him in a deep kiss. Automatically his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him as he whines into your mouth.

“Wanted you so bad,” Chan mumbles in between kisses. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You know professionally you really shouldn’t be hooking up with your castmates, but it’s clear nobody else in your cast seems to care, and if you’re being honest, giving Chan a chance to be with his teenage wet dream really gets you going. So you throw all professional advice out of your mind as you let Chan back you up against the mirrors.

You justify it by telling yourself you need this. Which, you do.

Chan’s hands are impatient as they tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head and tossing it across the room. Chan’s mouth moves to the crook of your neck and you’re about to push him away, knowing that it’s gross and sweaty, but you hear Chan moan and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on even more. Chan’s fingers move up your torso to grasp your breasts, kneading them in his hands. 

You push him away for a moment, allowing you to grab your sports bra and pull it off your body, your tits fall free from the confines.

You can hear the shuddered breath Chan takes as he descends on you once more.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Chan whines. His mouth is sloppy as he kisses at your chest, moving down so he can suck one of your boobs into his mouth. You bury your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly and making him moan against your skin.

“Channie,” you mumble. “Need you.”

“Fuck, yes, yes, okay.” Chan quickly pulls away from you to sink to his knees. Chan’s hands are shaking as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling down your shorts and underwear in one go. Though you were expecting it, you gasp a bit at now being fully exposed to the room. 

You barely have a moment to collect yourself before Chan is throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and diving forward. You moan as you press your back into the mirror, trying to ground yourself as Chan’s lips close around your clit. His mouth is eager as he sucks at the bud, your pussy fluttering around nothing as he does so. 

Chan has a strong grip on your thighs as he feasts on your cunt. His skill is sloppy but it drives you even more crazy knowing how desperate he is for this. You can hear Chan moaning and feel the vibrations of his mouth rumble against your clit.

“Mm, yer’so wet,” Chan mumbles, already sounding a bit out of it. His mouth delves even further, his tongue swiping over your slit and collecting your arousal. His tongue laps at you, exploring your folds and making a mess of his face.

You push your hips further into Chan’s face, needing him against you as much as possible. Needing him inside of you. Luckily he seems to get the message and moves his hand from your hip to the inside of your thigh, trailing up before you feel his fingers brush against your entrance. His fingers drag against your folds for a moment before he pushes them inside you, making you groan out.

He doesn’t waste time picking up the speed of his fingers as he rapidly fingers you, his digits brushing against your walls as he pumps them inside you with no method. You can feel Chan shift under you and soon you hear the plap of his hand as he jerks his cock. His mouth is harsh against your clit as he sucks hard, his own pleasure causing him to work harder on you.

“Good boy, good boy,” you coo as you grasp Chan’s hair tightly, yanking slightly. Your whole body feels sensitive as you buzz with pleasure. You roll your hips against Chan’s fingers, desperate to be filled up even more.

You can hear the high pitched whines emitting from Chan as he gets more and more desperate to cum. It fills your head with a cloudiness that has you pushing the boy away from you so you can pull him to stand against. His eyes are hooded and his face is shiny with your slick but you don’t care, crashing your mouth into his.

Chan automatically grabs you, pushing against your body as hard as he can, sandwiching you between him and the mirror. You two are locked in a lip wrestle as Chan’s hips softly hump against your hip. You break away from Chan for a moment, both of you panting desperately, so you can pull his shirt over his head. Chan takes the moment to fully shed his shorts as well, leaving both of you completely bare.

Chan quickly descends on you once more, pushing your bodies flush. His skin is warm and soft against yours and you hate to admit how long it’s been since you’ve felt something so erotic. Your pussy clenches down, desperate to have Chan’s cock inside of you. The boy is just as desperate as his cock slips between your thighs, doing his best to get any friction against him.

“So needy,” you murmur as you trail your fingers down Chan’s chest.

Chan hums in agreement. “Wan’you so bad.”

“You’re so cute Channie,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “You ever been with an older woman, baby?”

“No. Barely been with anyone at all. No time.” Chan’s fingers tighten on you as he ruts against you harder. His eyes are glossed over with lust in a way that can only be considered pathetic. You’re obsessed with it though. The idea that you now have this young, inexperienced boy at your will, eager to fuck you.

“You’re sure you can handle me, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Yes. Please. I promise I can handle it. Have all the stamina. I need you so bad. I’ve wanted you for so long, please let me have you.” His cock is leaking all over your thighs as he spreads his precum with each one of his thrusts.

You chuckle slightly. “Okay then baby. Fuck me nice and good.”

“Fuck, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Chan hastily lines his tip up to your folds, rubbing it there just for a second, before fully sliding inside of you. He lets out a long shuddered breath as you adjust to his size, your cunt hugging him tight.

“H-holy shit. Fuck you’re perfect,” Chan whines as he starts to thrust into you. You hook one of your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer. Chan buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses there as he thrusts into you desperate, void of any rhythm.

You tilt your head back and release a soft moan and it mixes with the wet sound of Chan’s cock sliding in and out of you. Despite claiming to be inexperienced, you can’t remember the last time someone has fucked you this good. Though his pace is inconsistent, his hips have power behind them as they roll into you, making his dancer background loud and clear. 

His cock is heavy as it drags in and out of, his girth spreading your walls out as you clamp down on him like a vise. Your mind hums pleasantly now that Chan has started to satiate that hunger that was gnawing at your insides. Chan’s restless as his hands drag over your body, touching you everywhere he can while his lips explore where his hands aren’t.

You can hear him mutter soft praises as he does so, more babbling to himself than to you. He once more takes your breasts in his mouth, lapping at your nipple before sucking the fat into his mouth. His mouth is loud as he works at your chest, getting your tits wet with his spit. You can feel your cunt clench as pleasure blooms in your chest, your body arching up to meet his touch.

“You look so pretty,” Chan tells you, a bit louder than all of his other mumbles. “So, so pretty. Want you to see.”

With that Chan releases his grip on you, sliding out of you and causing you to whine a bit, not ready to feel so empty so quickly. Chan is empathetic though and quickly enters you once more, but not before spinning around so he’s not behind you. You gasp loud as Chan starts to pound into you, even harder this time.

With hooded eyes you stare at the mirror in front of you, watching as Chan ravishes you. You know that objectively you and Chan are both very attractive people, but seeing the physical image of you together is even more than you imagined. You take a moment to admire the muscles of Chan’s arms and the way they’re tightly wrapped around you. Your tits bounce with each thrust and Chan reaches up to paw at them, his thumb brushing against your sensitive nipple.

Behind you, Chan is also focused on the mirror, staring at your forms over your shoulder. His face is screwed up in pure euphoria as he ruts into you with soft whimpers, completely entranced by the feel of your pussy around him.

Chan’s breath is hot against your neck as he starts to talk, his words slightly slurred together. “D’you know how long I’ve wanted t’do this? U-used to watch videos of you dancing and study your form and your body. Your sexy fucking thighs. I’d get s’hard.”

You’re aware that you’re well known in the dancing community, and you’re aware that you have fans, but hearing Chan talk about you like this is on a whole new level.

“‘Member that show you starred in, and the company would p-post rehearsal footage, but they dance were so fucking erotic. I’d, ah, f-fuck my fist thinking about you while watching them. Younger me would pass out if he knew that I’d get to fuck your perfect pussy.” Chan’s completely gone as he talks to you. You’ve never seen someone so drunk on pussy alone, but you find it flattering more than anything else. It doesn’t hurt that Chan’s words are making your cunt leak even more than it already is.

Chan takes a moment to suck a mark into your neck, his fingers trembling against your hips from how tight he’s holding you. His hips don’t stop though, steadily thrusting into you, the slap of his skin against yours making the most delicious beat you’ve ever heard.

As soon as Chan pops his mouth off of you, he’s back to sharing his story. “I think yer’even sexier now. C-can’t stop watching you in rehearsal. Nearly cried when I found out you were on this show. B-but m’glad you’re not the love interest…w-wouldn’t be able to focus with how, fuck, hard I’d be.”

“Chan,” you moan out, his words filling your mind with nothing but a cloud of lust.

His words continue, in the same breathy whiny tone, fucked out and pathetic. “Fuck, touching you like this, shit m’the luckiest man alive.”

Chan’s eyes are nearly invisible from how hooded his eyes are, his face completely blissed out. The mix of Chan’s expression and his words is enough to have you on the edge and you push your ass back against Chan hard.

“Chan, need you to make me cum. Can you be a good boy and do that?”

“S-shit, yes. Fuck, okay.” Chan grasps your waist hard and angles his cock inside of you differently, bumping into your walls until you let out a cry and he knows he’s found your sweet spot. You lean forward, bracing yourself on the mirror as Chan starts to slam into your g-spot, rough and unrelenting. He slips his fingers between your legs, rubbing at your clit to speed the process along.

Albeit, it is still quite a novice level, your vision whites out as your orgasm crashes over you. You drop all your weight against the mirror as your body arches and you let out a scream. Your pussy flutters against Chan’s cock as you pant hard, fogging up the mirror. Your body is hot and sweating even more than after rehearsal but you feel nothing but satisfaction as the tenseness in your body subsides and you come down from your high.

Behind you, Chan slips out of you quickly, just barely being able to pull out before he spills all over your back. He milks his cock for longer than you expect, but then again he is still quite young. Chan’s groans taper off and he finally gets a moment to catch his breath.

You feel completely refreshed from how you felt at the end of rehearsal, your body untensed and your horniness satiated. 

“Fuck, I really needed that,” you say as Chan grabs a tissue from the corner of the room and wipes your back off. “Thanks, kid.” 

“Thank me? Thank YOU!” Chan says as you start to dress yourself. “That was literally a dream. I feel like my life is fulfilled.”

You chuckle at the boy’s words. “You say that like you’re not starring in a musical right now.” 

“I mean yeah, but this was totally different. I wasn’t lying, I think you’re amazing. I’m lucky to even be in a show with you. I really have looked up to you since I was younger.” Chan stares at you sincerely as he talks and you try to not show how flustered it’s making you.

“Well I’m glad that I helped make your dream come true…maybe I can also help some fantasies come true as well.” You send Chan a wink as you saunter across the room to your bag.

You can hear Chan sputter a bit as you bend over (a bit exaggeratedly) to pick up your things. “Wait- does that mean what I think?”

You turn around and smile softly at the boy. “See you Monday, Chan.”

With that you turn your back to him and exit the dance studio, leaving the boy red in the face and stammering. Oh you’re going to have some fun with him.

taglist: @ckline35 @toruro @jeanjacketjesus @namjoonbaby @n4mj00nvq @lovelyhan @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @tulipgarland4 @embrace-themagic @sulkygyu @leejihoonownsmyheart @synthetickitsune @yeosayang @miraclewoozi @d0nghyck @soonhoonietrash @yongi-lee @spilled-coffee-cup @morklee02 @17kwans @candidupped @ressonancee @m1nghaos @1-800-jeonwonwoo @anothershorthuman @dinoissupreme @speaknowlwt @hyneyedfiz @aaniag @mingyucookies @jwnghyuns @flwrshwa @valentxi @heavenly-mobo @pandorashbox @enhacolor @starlight-night0 @todorokiskitten @miriamxsworld @just-here-to-read-01 @sunnyteume @seuomo @tinkerbell460 @feat-sun @blxckswxnxge @erwins-left-tittie @chwecardcaptor @violetvoo

join my taglist: here!

thank you @ofneos for tagging me!!

top 5 songs i've been listening to!!

1. hell no- von sell

2. moonlight- kali uchis

3. loner- kali uchis

4. moonlight- kali uchis

5. is there someone else?- the weeknd

honorable mentions!!

buzzcut season- lorde, you are the right one- sports, eternal sunshine- ateez, silver lake queen- diplomacy, all eyes on me- jisoo, limitless- nct 127, bouncy- ateez, a dream with a baseball player- faye webster

yes, ik, me and my music taste are hot

tagging: @neowinestainedress

thanks for tagging me pook @neowinestainedress

i'm just silly ig!

tags: @goldyeokki

idk if i’m a “lovable puppy” but alright😅

thank you @peachdues for tagging me!

i tag: @crazycatlddy, @ahashiraswife, and @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 and anyone else who wants to do this (no pressure!)

links: picrew & uquiz

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.