#(Whew! This was long but REALLY fun!)

[pileofsith]

Nameless Part Twelve - Apostate Page 2/10 I'm sorry, the only way to visually show Barriss successfully making an ideological transmission towards the future Grand Inquisitor was to make them gaze at each other like two sad wet seals. Text is taken from the TCW episode, ‘The Wrong Jedi’. The comic is also available here on AO3.

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[dagaan]

Aight we love a lesbian squid yes

but does she fist fight other lesbians to be the best lesbian??

Looks like she’s got her hands full at the moment…

Otherwise she might get into fights, but probably just for fun. Simple zest for life, you know.

[bcdluckstumblcd]

//hello I gotta!! Go vote then I'll be online ✨

[eolewyn1010]

Ich würd gern mehr über deine OCs wissen, aber mein Namensgedächtnis ist mies. Wer ist dein/e aktuelle/r blorbo? 👉👈

Oh, boy, a prompt! ...Ich nehme das mal ganz frech als Aufforderung zu einer detaillierten Lebensgeschichte (nimm's mir nicht übel, ich brauch die Ablenkung). Mein aktueller Blorbo ist Chryso! Commence babbling.

Chryso ist ein junger Mann von einem nichtnomadischen Steppenvolk. Die haben seit jeher ihre größeren und kleineren Konflikte mit den umliegenden Stämmen zu klären, weswegen sich bei ihnen folgende Kommandostruktur ausgebildet hat: König und Königin obliegt das zivile Recht innerhalb der Mauern; dem Kriegsherrn obliegt das Recht in der Armee und auf dem Schlachtfeld. Außerdem hat jede der drei herrschenden Parteien eine*n Sekundanten zur Verfügung, quasi der allernächste Berater / Stellvertreter / Vertraute / Leibwächter. Chryso ist in seinen frühen 20ern Kriegsherr geworden, einer der jüngsten, die sein Volk hatte, und seine Geschichte spielt zwar während einer laufenden Kriegssituation, dreht sich aber vor allem um die komplizierte Beziehung, die er zu seinem besten Freund und Sekundanten hat, Elinn.

Chryso hat seine Mutter in seinen Teenager-Jahren an einen rivalisierenden Stamm verloren - sie ist vermutlich nicht tot, aber sie wurde als Sklavin verschleppt und er hat sie nie wieder gesehen. Das hat seine Familie ziemlich kaputt zurückgelassen; Chryso und seine ältere Schwester Serrony haben ihrem Vater nie verziehen, dass er nicht gekämpft hat, um ihre Mutter zurückzubekommen. Bis zum Tod seines Vaters ist der Bruch zwischen ihm und seinen Kindern nur schlimmer geworden. Serrony und Chryso, beide unsoziale, schweigsame Einzelgänger, haben sich noch mehr zusammengerottet. Serrony war früh eine der besten Kriegerinnen im Stamm, und es stand praktisch fest, dass sie Kriegsherrin werden würde und Chryso ihr Sekundant. Allerdings ist Serrony gestorben - ehrenvoll, in einer Schlacht, siegreich, aber sie ist gestorben - und hat Chryso sehr vereinsamt zurückgelassen. Er ist ein guter Kommandant, ein überragender Kämpfer und ein cleverer Stratege, aber er war nie gut darin, Freunde zu finden.

Die einzige echte Ausnahme dazu ist Elinn, der in seinen Teenie-Jahren zu den Rekruten der Armee gestoßen ist und dem Chryso als Trainer zugeteilt wurde. Elinn hat ihn am Anfang nicht ernst genommen, weil Chryso ein bisschen jünger ist als er, aber vor allem, weil er wenig nach Krieger ausgesehen hat (und eigentlich immer noch nicht aussieht). Er ist ein kleines dünnes Kerlchen, das immer mehr auf seine Beweglichkeit als auf seine Kraft setzen musste. Elinn hat schnell gelernt, ihn als Vorgesetzten zu respektieren; der Rest der Armee hat zum Teil immer noch so seine Probleme damit, auch nachdem Chryso schon jahrelang Kriegsherr ist. Er ist langsam mit Elinn warm geworden, und über die Jahre haben sie eine sehr innige Freundschaft zueinander entwickelt. Elinn hat sich irgendwann verliebt, geht aber davon aus, dass Chryso das nicht weiß und auch nicht wissen muss; Chryso wirkt in der Hinsicht ausgesprochen unnahbar und desinteressiert. Er ist einfach wahnsinnig emotional verklemmt, und Elinn will ihn auch nicht unbehaglich machen, indem er versucht, auf irgendwas zu drängen.

So weit, so gut. Als Chryso nach einem entscheidenden Sieg Kriegsherr geworden ist, hat er Elinn zu seinem Sekundanten gewählt; es war der stolzeste Moment in Elinns Leben, komplett mit Treueschwur und Versprechen, notfalls sein Leben für Chrysos zu geben - es ist absout alles, was Elinn für ihn sein will. Von da an hat sich so ziemlich das Bild etabliert, das man jetzt vom Kriegsherrn hat: Chryso, das schmale Kerlchen mit seinem verkniffenen Gesichtsausdruck und kühlen Blick, und ihm immer auf den Fersen dieser große, gutherzige Golden Retriever von Mann, der ihn mehr oder weniger subtil anschmachtet. Elinn hat mit sich ausgemacht, dass ihre Freundschaft und das Kommandogefälle kein Problem für ihn sind.

Das geht solange gut, bis Elinn in einer Schlacht Chrysos Leben rettet - indem er gegen einen direkten Befehl verstößt. Jetzt steht Chryso unter Handlungsdruck, ihn zu bestrafen; es gibt Leute, die ihm nur zu gerne Führungsinkompetenz vorwerfen würden, und das Autoritätsproblem kann er sich mitten in der Kriegssituation nicht leisten. Chryso ist also mächtig sauer und Elinn eigentlich auch, denn er hat ja das richtige getan. Chryso sterben zu lassen funktioniert für ihn hinten und vorne nicht. Also gibt's Streit. Und dann ne Prügelei. Und dann ziemlich nahtlos Sex. Und dann hat Chryso sich gefälligst damit auseinanderzusetzen, dass 1) er möglicherweise schon länger in seinen besten Freund verliebt ist, 2) sein bester Freund definitiv und jetzt auch ausdrücklich in ihn verliebt ist, 3) er so gar nicht geübt ist, was emotionale Offenheit und Wärme angeht, 4) er nicht sicher ist, ob er gerade massiv seine Befehlsgewalt gegenüber Elinn missbraucht hat, 5) seine Soldaten Wind von der Sache bekommen und ihm jetzt vorwerfen, dass er im Zuge dieser Beziehung seine Befehlsgewalt gegenüber Elinn aufgegeben hat und demzufolge nicht zum Kommandanten taugt, und zu guter Letzt 6) er nicht weiß, ob letzteres vielleicht sogar stimmt, denn er war nicht nur auf Elinns Rettung angewiesen, sondern dank einer infizierten Wunde auch noch auf seine Fürsorge, was seinem Stolz jetzt nur so semi-gutgetan hat.

Ja, und nebenbei stehen auch noch die Bergstämme vor der Tür und sind eroberungswütig, und Chrysos König und Königin wüssten schon mal ganz gerne, wie die Überlebenschancen des Stammes stehen. Fun times!

[meownotgood]

au where I help aki heal his inner child by forcing him to play all of the games I hyperfixated on in my youth

[ikusayu-no-hana]

Who is your favorite Kasen artist, or just tkrb in general. Any recs?

of course it's homerun ken

#1 is obv promineco (knsd-centric, draws insane surrealist contexts + psychologically thrilling manga, scratches my izukase itch. a fanartist after my own heart). then there's ichiya (knsd/izukase + myu. very cute comic plots), midorimen (rlly good hosokawagumi + sanadagumi + kobizen. pixiv), CUBE (some of the best blushing kasens ever. has tousani), ponzu (kasen and osayo fluff <3), en (mainly kasen + aoe. i'd die for that painting style)

and some others: TKC (recurring tosa-gumi, rlly cool illustrations and even cooler animatics!!!), raden (their illustrations w all the swords gathered !!!!), yuuki (swords-hugging-konnosuke series. random sword thirst traps. hasebe suffering ig), tancho (kunihiro kyoudai + kanesada-ha fluff), datou (odagumi + morigumi + kurodagumi. fudou is slowly climbing in my sword rankings)

[drawcupidsbow]

happy birthday isat :)

this took me Wayyyy longer than i thought it would so thats why its a bit late.. ehheh.... i really like how it turned out though !! extra stuff under the cut

okay. okay im gonna get a bit sappy here. bear (🐻) with me

isat has very quickly become my favorite game of all time which is not an exaggeration. never have i played a game that felt so real in its dialogue, characterization, and character interactions. it makes it so easy to relate to them all and so difficult to pick just One favorite. it cured my art block watered my crops fed my family etc etc. i had originally bought it nearly a year ago now. on christmas day to be specific! and for some reason i didnt actually Finish the damn thing until may. and whew did it consume my every waking thought. i havent had this much fun theorizing and being part of a fandom in general in so so long. thank you adrienne for making such a wonderful game and thank you isat fandom for being so kind and friendly! i actually feel like i can make an effort to have a presence here more than anywhere else and i hope i can become closer with all my mutuals and anyone else who wants to talk about isat with me for one million years

okay enough Heres the art you came here for

first time in like. actual years i did sketch then lineart instead of just cleaning up the sketch a bunch LOL so here is the sketch for this one

the dreaded lineart. this took the longest time and i never want to draw again (joke)

self explanatory. i had an idea to add loop but do Not have the energy to execute it currently. oh well!

if you read my big big paragraph of rambling thank you :3c That is all. Im gonna go take a break from drawing for a day or two and lay on the floor

[brutalfantasytarot]

Pick A Card Tarot Reading: What Home Life Will Be Like for You and Your Future Spouse 💘

study the images. which one are you drawn to most?

[left to right]

message me for a personal love reading 🔮

ko-fi.com/brutalfantasytarot 💘

ko-fi.com/brutalfantasytarot 💘

PILE ONE: queen of pentacles

your home will be downright sexy. you're going to be dressing up for your partner and yourself all the time. I'm getting stay-at-home wife vibes. he's your emperor. he wants to just let you exist without any worries. you're gonna be getting your nails done, your hair done, doing your makeup, going shopping a lot. and when he comes home and sees you all dolled up for him - whew!!! I'm getting dom/sub vibes. he may literally be your dom daddy. he's always got you in his lap. and sometimes over it 🙈 there's something so depressed about him. like he never knew light until you came into his life. you uplift him. you keep him sane. your love quite literally keeps him going. he loves nothing more than making sure his baby is pampered. i see long sessions of sex with lots foreplay. you are his queen. you're both so loyal and protective of each other. it's a really peaceful home. fights are rare, but he can be explosive during them. raising his voice. he's super passionate when he's angry. i also see at least one baby in your future - a baby girl 💘

PILE TWO: eight of wands

either you or your person are a bit academic. i see lots of books. you're going to have your own library in your home. a room full of your favorite books and a cozy place to read them. i see fireplaces, and maroon rugs, black stockings. total dark academia vibes. you and your future spouse will play cards. sip wine and whiskey. it's like two best friends who love to tease each other. compete with one another. and yet, the competition never turns ill-willed. it's all fun and games, but you both have poker faces and little smirks tugging at your mouths. lots of antiques in your home as well. it seems like you two will travel a lot. especially for the holidays. your future spouse absolutely swept you off your feet and the passion between you two never dulls, it simply keeps igniting💘

[beefboyandbabygirl]

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.

[obeymematches]

Hello~! Can I request a headcanon for an Mc that can’t sleep alone? Like they feel much safer sleeping next to someone. Thank you so much and take as much time as you need~! ☺️

ohhh i know how you feel, i also prefer sleeping with someone 💓 thank you for sending in a request & inspiring me, i had fun writing this💫

💤Sleeping together💤

Lucifer:

He is awake when you go over to his room. He didn't have intentions to sleep yet but he wants what is best for you. It is your secret mission to get him to do what is best for him. He gets addicted to sleeping with you also. Even if he has evening plans with Diavolo / he seriously has to work late he insists you stay in his room & he joins when he can.

Nothing could make me more at ease than feeling you sleep by my side.

Mammon:

Guess what MC he can't sleep without you either!! Whew good thing you two are on the same page!! He must hold you with his arms AND his legs to fall asleep. After that he'll toss and turn though. Gets super sad if you tell him no sleeping together tonight. He would never do this to you!! 😩

Are ya comfy MC? Wanna stroke my hair? Just a little?

Leviathan:

Quickly becomes addicted to your warmth surrounding him through the night. Never let go pls. You are a very good influence on his sleep schedule! Doesn't get as clingy as Mammon but damn he is very close to that level. Must get a bigger blanket so you stop stealing it so easily!

There there MC! My only duty now is to keep you warm!

Satan:

Oh you won't get him to sleep when he doesn't want to so easily. He lets you sleep on his bed but he isn't in a rush to join you in dreamland; yes he does lay next to you but he is still busy reading! Loves to cuddle even though you might not remember much of it the next day. I think he doesn't complain if you sleep together often as long as you are not demanding it.

Nights with you are the most peaceful. Thank you  for being with me MC.

Asmodeus:

Gotcha! He suggests sleeping together before you do! Never ever complains if you want to spend the night! Free to cuddle any time of the day if you want to nap!

My dove, resting with you calms me down every night. You look cute when you are sound asleep, did you know?

Beelzebub:

Blushes at the suggestion of helping you sleep solely by being next to you. Very careful not to be too heavy for you! Would never dare to suggest it but gladly sleeps with you every night if that's what you wish!

MC.... I love you so much, being your pillow is my pleasure!

Belphie:

Honestly he doesn't mind if you randomly visit him through the night to sleep with him. If he likes you he is going to make sure you have the best sleep of your life and you become addicted to him quickly.

That's it MC, now close your eyes and take a rest. I'll be guarding your dreams.

Diavolo:

Ah his lonely ass is craving your company 0-24 so honestly he would never refuse sleeping together. Has to make sure he has the most comfortable beddings on! Please cuddle him like his life depends on it, he is going to devote himself pretty soon if you keep it going!

I can't believe I was missing out on this feeling... somehow your presence makes me feel safe. I don't understand how either.

Barbatos:

Hmmm I think he likes his independence but how could he refuse you? You can rarely sleep together though so he isn't going to be the best candidate for this request unfortunately :( If you do though it's going to make you view him in a very different light; he rarely lets anyone see hin so vulnerable!

On one condition, we can sleep together. No taking pictures, you can only close your eyes and sleep!

Solomon:

Ohhh a feeling he was longing for for so long... and now it happens every night. He probably doesn't go to sleep early though so he just joins when he is ready to sleep. It is his pleasure to cuddle you through the night!

I could really get used to this, MC. Shall we do this tomorrow as well?

Simeon:

Okay one step at a time! First just cuddling on the couch, then on the bed, only after that you might sleep together! Doesn't complain though and feels bad for making you wait so long. Loves to caress your back as you're cuddled up to his chest!

This feeling.... do you feel it too, MC? I never want this moment to end.

[bowelfly]

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IT'S THE 2023 TRUNGOTHON MEGA ART TELEPHONE GAME

[RATED R]

RIDICULOUS. this was so big that even with tumblr's recently expanded image limit i still had to weld every other image together to fit it into one post, but if you want to see every image in its full glory, i made a page for it on my website (jankily hand-coded and probably not very mobile friendly).

it was so fun to see which elements stuck around and for how long. i still can't believe the skeleton got banished and then resurrected 15 iterations later!

huge thanks to everyone who participated. in order:

@mobileleprechaun, ink drinker, @dimetrodrawn, @escherbug, @gachimushi, @ikrutt, @dunwichdrawsstuff, @mathpope, @bedupolker, @solidagold, @a-beepbop, thenauticalwarlock, @ohpsshaw, @eisly, @juenavei, me, @librivore42, @greedol, @mechabutchzilla, @phanta-friends, @tickfleato, @skelizard, elixer, @espimyte, @noctomnis-art, @bluedotjpeg, @fetus-cakes, @iguanodont, @flame-shadow, @kombuchaclock, @slimekingmike, @crtastrophe, @leona-florianova, @skelebee, @nutspider, @palossssssand, and gachimushi again for the header image to this post

whew! now time to seriously consider a yearlong 72-artist game...

[huggywuggysuppy]

Has Pearl Really Betrayed Gem?

Inspired by (this) recent transcript of Pearl talking about siding with Scar in SL and not believing she betrayed Gem at all.

It's interesting how Pearl always saw Murder Camel as a fun but temporary thing -- it was never a real alliance to her -- while EVERYONE ELSE clearly thought it meant something more. We're talking the Mounders discussing moving in with Gem & the Scotts level serious. Gem /definitely/ thought it was something more. Even in WL Scott was like "and you were like three steps away from betraying us and being your own thing with Pearl" (also him stressing that "no matter your other alliances, THIS is the top one" in SL). There's definitely something unequal here. And why is that?

Gem murdered Pearl. Like, twice. The second time while Pearl was actively BEGGING her to stop. For that red task to hit until she blocked with a shield.

So of course Pearl didn't see it as a real alliance. Both times she joined Gem were after Gem killed her! And to the other players who are veterans and used to self-sacrifice and murder, it's not that big a deal. But Pearl very rarely sacrifices herself -- off the top of my head she's only given lives to BigB back in Limited, which was much lower-stakes -- and definitely not by force. Pearl never really chose to ally with her. Working with Gem in the final session was almost entirely tactical: it was just a bonus that they got along.

And Gem? Gem doesn't notice. As far as she knows, sacrifice is not only normal but expected of a strong alliance. Thanks to Scott's immense self-sacrifice issues and Impulse's "yes and" tactical mind, she's literally responsible for two deaths apiece on her allies. Why wouldn't she lump Pearl in with that, who she's also taken two lives from? (Whew, does Gem murder a lot of people. love her). When she'd turned Pearl red, Pearl was angry and hurt, but Gem apologized. "I can't believe you still wanna be friends with me after this." Gem had said, and Pearl replied, "I can't believe it either. But I guess here we are."

That's why it's such a betrayal at the end. Gem thought they were okay. Scar's been public enemy #1 for so long, Pearl literally chose him as her target when she turned zombie. Meanwhile, Gem and Pearl have been working together for the past 2-3 sessions (plus or minus a couple times Gem murdered her). Pearl should've turned on Scar.

And that leads us to now. Gem, who was betrayed because she thought she was safe and Pearl was cool with it and was her ally. When the server thought they were so close they would team up together. When really, Pearl had never thought the same, because why should she? Gem had only ever hurt her and her allies. No, Pearl's only crime was not communicating clearly enough and denouncing Gem entirely. But against the whole server, the fandom's gaze too, all insisting Gem and her were in Life, for Life?

5 AM Pearl has a lot to work with.

Thank you so much for reading! I, too, fell into the trap and accused them both of betrayal. But I was blinded by wanting Shinyduo to stay together! I should never doubt you, Pearlescentmoon. Never let us sway you from your path.

[koifsssh]

The Greaser Au!

(oh goodie! it's here!)

bwah, where to start?

long, long, long rambles below! (Beware!)

Wally! I'll start with Wally!

As you can imagine, Wally is the little leader of the group! Promptly dubbed after his last name, "The Darlings"! (how darling they are indeed!)

Wally had grown a fascination with the trend, though he didn't quite understand the need to act so tough and mean, so he decided to make his own group! (with the help of Barnaby!)

Motorcycles, catchy tunes, being free on the road is something everyone should enjoy! So who cares if you're big or small, or if you like the color pink? Anyone can be a greaser as long as they got a jacket and a bike to go along with it!

At least, that what he believes anyway!

Speaking of a certain beagle...

Barnaby!

Barnaby of course wanted to join in on the fun, and he very publicly advertised Wally's gang at his little comedy nights! (It did catch a certain blonde's attention!)

it did garner attention, with the way the beagle so affectionately told of Wally's endearingly comedic actions from their day to day life. Barnaby also helped Wally organize the entire set up, helping him get paint and base jackets for the painter to personalize! (He also suggested Poppy's diner as a hangout spot! He had it all thought out!)

Plus, it made his best friend happy! Who could ask for more? Well... maybe Barnaby would ask for a hotdog or two.

Julie!

Julie is a seasoned hair stylist! She owns her own hair salon! She's excellent at her job, however more often than not she gets a unpleasant customer.

Stress can pile up unfortunately, and when she attended a comedy show one evening she couldn't help but be ecstatic at such an idea of being free on the road. It felt like the perfect destresser!

Talking on the phone with Frank was great and all, but nothing compares to feeling the rush of wind in her hair... So she jumped at such an opportunity! And of course, Julie doesn't go anywhere without a certain frowny bookworm!

Frank!

Frank is an entomologist! (and a part-time librarian during the summertime!) A dream job really, but every dream comes with its hurdles! Similar to Julie, Frank found themself stressed. Usually books were able to decompress them, but lately they've been growing frustrated, the one thing they hate the most is incompetent writing!

It took a lot of convincing to get Frank to even consider the idea of being a greaser, let alone get on a motorcycle... but Julie can be very insistent when she wishes to be! Not even a week passed before they begged Julie to stop her nagging, but in exchange they had to at least go with her once on a motorcycle...

how mortifying.

However! the thrill of being on the open road at a high speed was something they never knew they needed! Needless to say, after that, they were hooked!

Sally!

Sally was the last member to join! and she took her spot quite quickly!

Sally had been in Poppy's diner when she saw The Darling's walk in, she was in awe! Colorful motorcycles? Matching jackets? They all looked marvelous! The star couldn't help herself when she walked up to them, simply starstruck at such a group!

They all looked to be having such fun... she wanted to take part!

When Sally asked if there was a spot left for her, Wally softly smiled at her and stated, "Anyone and everyone can join!"

She was content that day, and from then on, it really was the best group of friends she could ever ask for!

---

whew! im done!

(this is my second time typing this... i had lost it all the first time. bwah. but it's here!!!)

im quite happy how everything turned out! I think i'll use this as a master post of sorts, just so you don't have to dig through my stuff just to find anything specific!

I'll leave Poppy's & Howdy's explanations here! (Just know those designs are old! All the designs in this post are the ones i will be using!)

Poppy's Diner!

additionally! I will give you everyone's closeups!

[0law]

💖💖🛋️💖💖✨

B: Hello again, Stanly

Ready for another dose of nightmares? Today I made something that will melt your eyes and….

S: Just spill it. My dreams are lucid enough to destroy your silly theatrics.

But I admit, reliving that horse race was great. I was finally able to change the outcome.

How about you look for something profitable? Even better, just keep wandering around the room where you're not in the way.

S: Even if you're a millennial creature or whatever, there's always something new to learn, like how to make good jokes. That would be fun. Your sense of humor borders too much on the creepy, too much for my taste.

B: You are a… those nightmares weren't bad jokes told!!!!

Whew, it's been so long and something has me so exhausted and sad. If you would just lend me your body for a moment to apologize to Stanford and the kids, maybe I wouldn't be such a mess. I'm sick of living with this guilt. Snif, snif.

What do you say, will you finally allow me to do something good with my infamous existence?

S: Yes, I can understand you. I know how important it is to ask for forgiveness in order to move on. You've admitted something very difficult; I think I'll give you a chance?

Really? Ha ha ha ha. Good one, Bill! You're getting better at jokes.

So you finally pulled out the sorry bad guy card? Ha ha ha ha. I've been waiting for it for a while. Good thing I wasn't drinking anything. Ha ha ha ha.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

B: Shut up already, you idiot! When you least expect it, you and everyone will pay. I'll make every pore of your pathetic old man meat have 2 inch thorns in it.

S: Ha ha ha ha. I must admit, if this wasn't a dream, in real life you would have laughed me to death.

B: I'll rip you to shreds!!!

[sugar-petals]

⌈ pile I - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ pile II - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ pile III - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

🔓 select the tarot card that you noticed first.

⌈ NOTE 🌹 ➝ welcome to this extended nsfw reading. at the bottom of the deck i found the 5 OF WANDS (see below cut) so the overall theme is: teasing 😏 let’s find out what it means for you individually in your piles. what steamy thoughts are running circles in your person’s mind? tell me what you got and enjoy 🐝

[ deck used | the wonderful golden art noveau tarot by Giulia Massaglia — gilded example cards below, not the actual piles ]

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

the FIVE OF WANDS - today’s overall energy is playfighting. 

message. they want to give you a sexual challenge rather than indulging in a soft and hesitant mood: tease them right back and they’ll appreciate it. it’s all in good spirits as long as both play along. boldness is appreciated and keeps the chemistry running. 

no need to fear conflict, this is all friendly banter without the intent of hurting. behind all of that is the idea of testing limits + experimenting sexually through fun and activity rather than keeping it a guessing game what the other person might like. 

pile i - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS - THE EMPEROR - PAGE OF COINS - 3 OF CUPS

Oh hot damn… Lucky in Love or Drunk in Love are the type of lyrics I’m getting from this. Nothing prevents them from thirsting over you lmao but it’s a good thing! Because they’re confident in liking you so. Damn. Much. And they know you like them back. What a secure lover this person is becomes apparent in their ambitions: They reflect dedication. Meanwhile, they’ve got a balance of mature and outgoing/youthful energy alike. And I feel like they really went from being serious in your presence to just letting it all out! Good for them, because they’re on a roll since they met you slash made contact.

The main kink I’m seeing here is teacher and student, hands down. They are seriously into pretending there’s a difference in power, authority, knowledge, age, looks, all of that. Doesn’t have to be real, it can be roleplay, but they do consider you to be someone to look up to. They pleasure themselves like mad to those thoughts, honestly. The Daddy or Mommy kink is real in this one because whew, QUEEN + EMPEROR? That’s a big deal. You two are either two bold personalities coming together (or they fantasize about that, some major powerplay) or they identify you as that person who pulls all of their strings with little to no effort. Far from intimidated, they are ready to learn and enjoy because they’re your babe.

This person is not a starfish though. Happily under your spell, I can see them quite actively horny because wow Pile 1, their sex drive is just impressive, to say the least. Not scattered, just very strong in general. And they see you just like that as well. They know you are in charge, they feel that you’ll handle the shit out of them without hesitating. Boss of their body is what I’m hearing! Not an inch will belong to anybody else. They love how madly possessive they are.

At the same time, they also think you can learn together, it’s not so set in stone. I like that contrast in the cards. Sovereignty and mature sex versus being carefree and raunchy like a student party. Like they want you to pounce on them and dominate their every cell, but they also want to be your cute little pet to fool around with. I get the impression that this person worships the hell out of you and thinks you’re the best in bed, no matter your degree of experience. That’s the thing, they would be happy with a virgin and a sexpert alike, as I said they hardly care! Because you charmed them and made your standpoint clear! Even if you have a hot VERSUS stone-cold demeanor and sex appeal, they feel inspired by that.

Your sexual energies complement each other well I feel. In their mind, you could top them so easily. They gladly submit to an orgy of pleasure. I think they trust you a lot, they just want to lose control and be chased. They won’t chase you! You’re too prideful and want to set this up on your own terms. This relationship is yours to create, they won’t interfere. They’re too starstruck and want to gather their resources first, only to find out you’re tremendous fun to be with and they had nothing to worry about.

You are the sun of their universe Pile 1, you seduced them so much. If only you would boss them around, they want it so badly. This scenario could be a total clash of titans since you are both a total smokeshow in your own ways.  They looked at you and wanted you to open up, leave the stiff old life behind and feel younger again. Since you’re so foxy to them, they treat you like the bombshell you are, with lots of reverence and respect. I’m even getting service sub vibes from your person, Pile 1, they’ll just do whatever you ask `em like you’re royalty, long as it’s consensual of course, but I don’t get any toxic fantasies from this pile, just very dom-sub centered ones.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile ii - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ EIGHT OF SWORDS - KNIGHT OF WANDS - 6 OF COINS - PAGE OF CUPS

Whirlwind kind of romance right here, lots of ups and downs in their anxious mind. You left them feeling powerless to all the energy they perceive you to so blazingly have, Pile 2. They were thunderstruck by your presence, were frozen on the damn spot. Tied. Up. Which leads us to the card imagery, by the way. Bondage fantasies is a huge theme here. I’m just sayin’… That’s their sexual fantasy when they think of you. If you’d blindfold them, or try something like knife play, even (as the swords card indicates), that would get them going so much. Despite their freaky imagination, ironically they are the mellow one, while you are the fiery counterpart that doles it all out to them in their wet dreams.

As contradictory as it sounds, reciprocating and giving back is the dynamic here, though. For instance, if you bought stuff for them, they’d be so happy and fawn over you like wild. Since this is a rollercoaster ride, however… I can’t quite tell what exactly their constant feelings are for you, Pile 2, as they are just so changeable. From no sex drive to reckless abandon to self-control to begging to being a fool in love. What a journey they’ve been through because of you. You make them feel all of this, and they’re saying thank you.

One day they want to be controlled by you, the other, they want to unleash their passion without any help and do their own dance to impress you. They have an edge but they’re romantic, they’re hopeless and they’re hot shit, they’re fair and then such a tease giving you less than you deserve, full well knowing it will keep you hooked and coming for them like an avalanche.

They want you rushing to their home like it's the firefighters. Because well, well… they’re feeling way too hot, aren’t they. At the same time, that’s the puzzling thing, they also want you to keep them at an arm’s length. If you aren’t confused about this person yet, at this point, you gotta be: Which mirrors them, in fact. They don’t quite know what they want consistently, you left them too dumbfounded to understand the situation for sure. Pile 2, this individual is head over heels for you.

Now this starstruck person dreams about being acted upon by you and they love that. Pillow prince/ss is what I’m seeing all over the spread, they have that receptive energy for the most part. They might be a little unruly once they get out of their comfort zone or don’t feel like they’re acknowledged by you (they might as well have a come-save-me fantasy… do them a favor and help them out). But when they do get signals, they are back in love romantically, yes, not so much sexually, they’re touchy-feely like crazy. Just when they felt like roaming free before! If there’s some hunter-prey fantasy going on here I wouldn’t be surprised, they want to keep you on your toes.

As I said, you get the best of both worlds Pile 2, your person is not the predictable type. Maybe that’s why you like `em. They are flirts and then they’re not. They want rough sex and then they want affection little by little. But the final note in their mind is always this: They want you to glued to them, to go wild for them, to witness them like a fish in the water: Through requited love. All they want is to be asked out and live their dreamy, sensitive love. Confusing you is not their intention. Don’t forget they just want love at the end of the day.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile iii - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

⌈ KNIGHT OF COINS - PAGE OF SWORDS - THE SUN - THE EMPRESS

What started out as a sensual, stable connection which didn’t go down in flames of horniness now turned their head into a mush. Which then turned into them bursting with vitality! An online message of yours shook them up, or something you said. But in a positive way, because they’re so happy now. Romantic, personal, sexual bliss, they’re feeling so good about themselves because of you, the dull days are over. What a mood boost you gave them, and they’re confident in their looks because of your steady presence/communication, oh my word.

Because you started out easygoing and then picked up speed, they are absolutely feeling themselves like it’s nobody’s business. I’m so happy for you, Pile 3, because your person is just prancing around like a child after you’ve been frank with them. Talking it out was so needed. Approaching it from a headspace was. Being chatty with them made your person super hot and bothered, too. Hell, they are totally into your voice, the way you take your time when you walk, the way you carry yourself, how you dress up, the way your hair is tousled (if you wear it longer), how you treat yourself, how you choose your words, and how you smile especially.

At first, they were so scared how serious and single-minded you came across. Now they’re blushing and sweating their ass off because you said what you said and you paid attention to them! When they thought they were the knight in shining armor, you gave them a reality check and dodged the bullet, stood your ground instead of playing helpless — which worked in their favor not to get their hopes up and invest right away. That’s how you made this person’s libido explode. But in a good, wholesome way.

This proper mix of humor and the crazy slow burn (!) between the two of you has them going nuts without actually making them crazy, you know? Just healthy adoration and warmth they feel. I get the impression your person has lots of sexual stamina, Pile 3. They know what they’re doing, y’all… they might come across as a total sunshine, but they are, oh my word. Fertile as hell, go all the way, ready to make those babies and live the good life. In this economy? Your person thinks so, who am I to judge, they want that settling down and parenthood. They just know you’d be good at raising kids. But without compromising the mental stimulation, which you give them consistently.

And because you’re such a hottie with charm and good looks, they’re at your feet. You rule them! Your sex appeal has their pretty head spinning, their routine is broken, they can’t get enough of you, they want this in-depth (literally!). For long, they fantasized about having carefree sex with you out in nature, wild and free. Never too much of a good thing with you. You’re so juicy to them, graceful, steamy, gorgeous, you seem to have it all in their eyes. 

They think you have elevated status or just carry yourself in a way that shows your life is fulfilled and abundant. Oh hell, what don’t they like about you. Maybe you can be too direct and frank at times? They prefer your magnanimous, silly, soft, giving, cute’n’comfy side. They need to be taken care of a little, or need your cheer-ups. Because they want to take it easy, and not have conflict and difficulty in communication. Healthy, loving, and lasting (!) sexuality is the gist of this, I’m thinking. Quite Venusian of them, I see their sexual thoughts as Libra/7th house or Taurus/2nd house-themed. An all-around feel-good reading, Pile 3, I love the positive cards you got.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

FINAL NOTE. meet me in the reply section if you want, and if you got stuff i can improve about my PAC posts, drop a comment as well, i want to brush up my format again!

⭐️ DISCLAIMER // there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. 

© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. All readings for entertainment purposes only: They do not substitute any professional advice. Take what resonates, discard the piles that don’t hit home. If you aren’t drawn to any pile that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you. Do not repost my readings.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

yes or no?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, slight yoongi x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is distraught to know he can't jack off. After all, he spent all that money to complete his tattoo sleeve. He wasn't about to ruin all that hard work just for a quick nut. But it's going to take a while to heal. Days – no, weeks! – with no masturbating. Waaah! Why did he pick his right arm?! Thankfully, noona to the rescue... right? RIGHT?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; slight crack b/c JK's POV; JK is whipped, welp; smut (fem reader, minor D/s dynamics, sexual fantasies, heavy petting / teasing, cock-and-ball torture, finger sucking, spit kink, handjob / m-masturbation, edging / orgasm denial, hair-pulling kink, nipple play, m-receiving oral, multiple orgasms, mentioned forearm kink); noona!reader; pleasure is JK-focused and JK's POV

'magic-8' ball noona is back! no need to read, just know there's a yoongi x reader x jk sex triangle and they're roommates :D

--

Jeon Jungkook was in pain, horny, and depressed.

On the plus side, his tattoo sleeve was almost completed!

Woohoo!

Sigh, no, he still felt like throwing himself into a wall and sliding down to become an unmoving puddle of goo. So tired. He always felt like this after the adrenaline of a long tattoo session. Session days were fun while he was in the studio hanging out with the tattoo artist, even for hours on end. He had brought his own snacks, plenty of water, and pain medication. The artist had even brought lunch for him – probably because Jungkook was spending a LOT of money covering up some old tattoos he ragretted regretted, but hey! Free food! Jungkook was always happy to receive free meat!

Wait. That sound weird.

Eh.

Anyway.

He sighed as he fumbled with his keys, trying to use his left hand as much as possible. Today, the artist had worked on his right forearm and filling in his elbow with black. The skin there was irritated and covered in plastic, which made it annoying to do common tasks he noticed. Great. Another day of not getting off. Yeah, Jungkook loved getting tattoos but it made him grumpy that he couldn’t just jerk off whenever he wanted.

What?!

It was a legitimate reason to be grumpy, dammit.

Why did Jungkook pick his right arm for his tattoo sleeve? Simple. He had no foresight and tattoos were permanent. Whoops. (He was not an idiot. Trust.) He finally got the key into the lock and turned it. His life wouldn’t be so hard (keke) if it wasn’t for his current living arrangements. To be clear, he really did love living in Kim Seokjin’s house full of his friends. There was just one problem. One very sexy problem.

He opened the door cautiously, wondering if he would hear moaning today.

Silence.

Whew.

The house smelled really good though. Like food. Mmmm. Food. Jungkook wandered in, loosely holding onto the strap of his large black bag and stepping out of his shoes, neatly settling them into their spot… to avoid getting scolded later. He was a good boy.

Sometimes.

The current residents of the home were: Kim Seokjin, the owner of the house, actor, and professional whaler in too many games; Kim Taehyung, a fashion model and close friend that had taken over Park Jimin’s spot after Jimin had moved out to work overseas for a while; Min Yoongi, a music producer and quite possibly sex on legs (Taehyung’s words, one had to be there for it to be funny); and the Magic-8 ball noona. The only girl. Also, she was, erm, part of a consensual sex triangle that Jungkook was a member of but he definitely didn’t start it.

Really…!

Anyway.

She had a real name but Jungkook was always going to remember that cursed hunk of plastic denying him twenty-six times. Besides, it was just easier to refer to her as noona since she was the one female and older than him. It was proper and polite. She was only by name when he was on his knees and begging to cum.

Cough.

Anyway!

He made his way into the kitchen carefully. It wasn’t unusual for the house to be fairly quiet as it was quite common for the introverts to split up and occupy themselves with their respective hobbies, especially when Taehyung went out with his friends. Jungkook vaguely remembered Taehyung saying he was going to a sauna with his squad or something like that. Seokjin was probably playing MapleStory in the master bedroom with his headphones on. Something about a new update. He wasn’t coming out unless to eat and even that would be rare. Yoongi and noona… well, they were either fucking or holed up in their respective rooms being creative.

Oh.

Yeah, did he mention the other part of this sex triangle was his sharp-witted, cat-eyed, resting-bitch-face-but-secretly-a-tsundere hyung? And the first place Jungkook witnessed Yoongi and her having sex was the kitchen he was about to walk into? His dick twitched every time he entered the kitchen because of it. He both felt guilty and became aroused by the wrongness of it. Then got more turned on when he remembered that he couldn’t masturbate tonight. Maybe he should just touch himself with his left hand to relieve some pressure. Or make it worse. On purpose.

Ugh, maybe he really was a masochist.

Jungkook rounded the corner and yelped when found himself cornered by his hyung and his noona glaring at him.

“Wah!”

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” his grumpy hyung grumbled.

“There you are,” his mischievous noona mused, waving about a ladle like it was a magic wand. “Sit down, sit down. You must be hungry after a long day.”

“Why didn’t you text? We ended up having dinner without you, hah,” Yoongi hmphed, poking Jungkook in the chest. The older male looked tired and overworked. One glance between the glowing, calm smile to Yoongi’s messy black hair sticking up in every direction. It was pretty clear what went down. RIP, hyung. His hyung was wearing an elegant black silk pajama shirt and matching pants with the waistband slightly askew. Red mark on the fair skin of his exposed collarbone.

Here? Or in her bed? Or in his bed? Or… mine so it smells just like them?

It was an irrelevant thought, as Jungkook rarely slept in his own bed despite having one. He had a bad habit unique quirk of falling asleep wherever he was, whenever he felt the need to sleep. This greatly annoyed Seokjin and made Taehyung laugh. Sometimes Jungkook would wake up with the latter guy sleeping on top of him like a handsome sloth. Just Taehyung things. But most times, Jungkook was in his noona’s bed.

Hey! It was a comfy bed.

Ahem.

Jungkook received another sharp poke and he jumped, stumbling as he was pushed to the kitchen island, extra startled as Yoongi wordlessly pulled out the seat for him. He got a what? look in response, complete with black strands falling over those narrowed dark brown eyes.

“Don’t you have to be careful about your arm, especially the first night?” Yoongi puffed. “Don’t get used to it.”

“O-Oh… yeah… t-thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi pretended not to hear and scooted himself towards the stove. She was standing next to a pot on low heat looking remarkably put together in red plaid pajamas. Jungkook plopped his butt onto the tall chair and put his bag on the other, yanking off his beanie. Ruffled his hair quickly to avoid his short black hair looking flat and dumb. He pretended like he wasn’t checking out the way her juicy butt completely filled out the pants and the way they clung to her lush hips. He pretended he didn’t notice that the top was relatively cropped and he could clearly see her amazing waist to ass ratio. He definitely didn’t say anything about how nice it was to see the beautiful curve of her neck due to the cute sheep-shaped claw clip collecting her hair back. And he surely didn’t go completely breathless when she turned around with a steaming bowl, suddenly realizing her pajama shirt was held together by only a single button in the center and she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. There was a row of buttons; she just hadn’t done them up.

Fuck.

It was violently unfair that she was allowed to look this hot in normal clothes.

She leaned over the counter and placed the bowl in front of him. He could see down her shirt. Damn. Even through the flannel fabric, Jungkook could still see the peaks of her nipples if he really stared. Really, really stared. For maybe ten seconds.

He jumped at the clink of a metal spoon against ceramic.

“You should eat,” she said with an enigmatic smile. Gracefully balanced her chin on the back of her knuckles, her fingers fanned downwards, her elbows resting on the counter to look into his eyes.

Shit, he was smooth melting like butter under that hot gaze.

“Pick your jaw off the floor,” said a gruff voice in Daegu satoori.

Jungkook jolted as crabby Yoongi appeared seemingly out of nowhere – well, he was here the whole time, oop – and cocked an eyebrow at him. Now the older two were both standing side by side, observing him expectantly. It was only then that Jungkook looked down and realized what was in front of him.

“Wait… it’s not my birthday.”

She chuckled. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. Ugh, he loved seeing them directed at him. “Seaweed soup will be good after a long tattoo day. You need nutrients. You need energy. Plus, Yoongi added beef in there for you. There’s some rice too, but not too much because Yoongi said you don’t like having too many carbs before sleeping. More meat, as you like it,” she concluded, using the spoon to show him all the ingredients. “We made it for you. Eat.”

She smiled exactly how the Cheshire cat would grin. He glanced at Yoongi who was staring at his fingernails like they were the most interesting thing in the world. They stood close to each other. No mistaking their closeness. The worst (best?) part was that even though Jungkook knew exactly what had happened while he was gone all those hours, he didn’t find this scene offensive.

In fact, he felt a bit teary from their consideration.

“T-Thanks…”

He took the spoon from her, his inhale hitching as his fingertips brushed against hers. Oh, her hands. Those lovely hands. His gaze shifted up, his heart beating fast. The side of her lips tugged upwards.

A smile turned smirk.

His cock twitched as Jungkook remembered her smirking face grinning up at him with his cum drenched all over her tongue. The last time he had jacked off into her mouth.

Argh!

He had used his left hand, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do the repeated motion of bending his right arm and bringing the utensil to his mouth right now. Hmmmm. He scrunched up his face and wrinkled his nose. It probably wouldn’t be the best idea. He didn’t want to mess up the line work and all that nice color shading. He was already doing the cover ups, after all. Plus, it did hurt a little moving too much. He would just see how far he could get. It was pretty easy since it was soup and the pieces of beef were cut pretty small.

They must have thought of that.

Jungkook tried not to cry grateful tears into his seaweed soup as he heard his hyung and noona busy themselves with cleaning the kitchen, ‘cause that would be utterly embarrassing and not very manly, sniff.

Thankfully, he was saved by his rising boner.

The thing was, Jungkook was pretty sure he wasn’t turned on by pain. Ahem. Okay, maybe a little (lotta) bit. But, time and place! This was precisely why he picked a very cool and very talented male tattoo artist. He could ask questions and be noisy and immature and not feel bad. Jungkook liked female artists but he would get too mentally distracted because he didn’t really know what to talk about, so his mind would end up wandering to another set of hands and then, bam! A not useful boner. Also, he didn’t want to creep anybody out or make them uncomfortable. That would be mean.

But, uh.

Jungkook was beginning to realize he enjoyed and hated these long sessions. He enjoyed them because he very much considered his tattoo artist his friend. He enjoyed them because his close friends were supportive, bought him snacks, and told him he was cool or brave for getting so many tattoos (very important, yup). And, yeah, he liked the repeated stabbing (it was addictive, okay?!). But he also enjoyed them because of how attentive his noona was before and during the aftercare process. She helped him prepare his bag prior to the appointment, would make sure to remind him to keep the area hydrated, make him his favorite meals (meat!), and be the first to help him in case he needed it. As for the hate part…

Ugh, it made him so fucking horny knowing he couldn’t get off without her help.

Yeah, sure, he could use his left hand. But the nut would be pisslow awful and not at all satisfying. Of course, Jungkook could wait and use his right when he felt like it was fine but that wouldn’t be for a while. He didn’t spend all that money to have to explain that he wanted a touch-up because he needed to cum being around a literal sex goddess his noona (not to mention what a mortifying thing to say to his poor tattoo artist that didn’t need to know all that). And there was no way in hell Jungkook was going to avoid his noona during his recovery. She had just made him seaweed soup! Oh, yeah, and Yoongi was there too. Anyway, the forced waiting turned him on even more than usual because there was a real reason behind it. After his first long session, he even clumsily edged himself with his left hand, multiple times, before he asked her to get him off, just so it felt even better when her lips closed around his leaking, desperate cock.

Jungkook choked on some beef.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m – ack! – fine. Totally fine!” he managed to hack out in a very not-fine tone.

“You look like you’re choking,” Yoongi commented matter-of-factly, eerily similar to a narrator of a nature documentary.

“Be careful,” she laughed, coming around the counter to rub his back. Aaaah! Jungkook lifted his right arm slightly and tried to subtly punch his dick down into submission but, as it turned out, his erection was as stubborn as he was. Awesome. Not to mention space was very limited under the counter. Shit. She patted in between his shoulder blades. “Want some water?”

“No, hah, I’m f-fine,” he wheezed, freezing up a little at her touch. He thought he was used to it by now but he really wasn’t, especially when his dick was already halfway up the stairs to heaven. Down to hell to the circle of lust? Whatever. She wasn’t too close, as she was on his right side, but he had enough memories to know how skin-to skin felt, enough times of her breasts pressed to his back and her hands exploring his chest, enough moments of her agile fingers splayed out over his pecs like blooming flowers, running her nails over his skin, flicking his nipples, all the while tracing her tongue along the base of his neck with her hard nipples rubbing against his shivering back…

Okay.

Jungkook was not fine.

“It’s kinda warm…” he mumbled as she moved away.

“That’s because you’re still wearing your jacket and having hot soup,” Yoongi pointed out, putting away some bowls. “Take it off.”

“Want help?”

It was a very innocent suggestion. Thus, Jungkook spent the next minute trying not to reveal that he had popped a boner while eating seaweed soup, sitting up and sticking out his arms like a Ken doll, letting those dreamy, long fingers peel away his oversized white and black racer jacket. Left arm first, then the right, taking care to slide it off, the sleeve cocoon stripping back to reveal the beautiful butterfly that was his fresh, brightly inked right arm.

“Oh? That’s right, you were covering up some big tattoos today, huh?” Yoongi perked up, his raspy voice with a twinge of curiosity, padding over to investigate. Underneath the jacket, Jungkook had worn a closely fitted, white, ribbed tank top. Comfy but wouldn’t get in the way. “Ho, so much color. Quite rockstar of you. You’re become such a cool guy, heh.”

“I wanted the individual images to stand out more and the artist suggested adding some color,” Jungkook clarified, slurping away at his dinner again. “I just trusted him.”

“He did such a good job,” she was saying, delicately holding his hand. Jungkook tried not to melt into a puddle. “The gradient is fantastic. The text here looks cleaner too.”

“Oh, yeah, I asked him to clean up some of my older tattoos too. For consistency.”

He continued munching happily until…

“So, what’s with the boner?”

Jungkook nearly choked again.

“Ay, Yoongi-ssi, leave him alone,” she chided, smacking Yoongi in the butt. Received a scalding squinty side-eye in response but she didn’t seem to give a shit. Nerves of steel. “You know he can’t cum unless I let him.”

Wow, okay, way to broadcast the facts!

“Hey!”

She tilted her head and rubbed the tip of his nose. Open-mouthed smirk included. Gulp. “Am I wrong?”

Against his better judgement, Jungkook pouted. “Noona…”

She patted his thigh. Condescendingly. He intensified his pout but it was futile. “Finish eating, okay? I’ll help you out in the shower…” She winked, devilish. “As usual.”

Yoongi snickered. “Just don’t be too loud.”

“Put on some headphones then,” she countered.

“Oi, I’m not blowing out my eardrums.”

“Then listen,” she hummed, caressing Jungkook’s jeans. “Or watch. No one’s stopping you.”

The bottom of Yoongi’s lips upturned, giving him the expression of a disgruntled cat. “I have to sleep.”

“Oh, like you don’t sleep enough, grandpa.”

“That wasn’t what you were calling me when I had you folded in half under me.”

Jungkook was left to slurp his soup to the sound of their bickering as her hand gently stroked the inside of his thigh. It could be worse. Could be better too, like her unzipping him and establishing dominance by jacking him off at the kitchen island. But Yoongi was not so easily fazed, so she didn’t, and Jungkook cried at (and secretly enjoyed) the feeling of pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

Turns out, he didn’t have to wait that long to enjoy suffering.

Er.

Attention?

Towards the end of his meal was getting a bit annoying to scoop up what was left, so Jungkook put down the spoon to pick up the bowl and drink of the rest of the soup. For a brief second, he was let go and he noticed Yoongi was flicking his hand over his noona’s chest. She grabbed his hand, pulling that scowling face to her into a sudden and tense kiss. Hey, he wasn’t above some adult entertainment while eating. Well, maybe not during the majority of the meal, but Jungkook kept a (big) peeper out. From his periphery, he saw Yoongi slip his hands under her shirt and heard her murmur in satisfaction, trailing kisses over Yoongi’s face. He saw his hyung smile in response, warm and genuine and butterfly-inducing.

Jungkook lowered the bowl slowly as Yoongi opened his eyes.

And winked.

Devilish.

“I’m leaving,” Yoongi suddenly announced, untangling himself and slinking away.

His noona snickered and shook her head. “Okay, nerd.”

Then she turned around and, before Jungkook could say anything about Yoongi running away like a criminal undercover, she revealed that her shirt was now open and fully exposing her perky tits and large, hard nipples.

“Oh!”

Jungkook felt his eyeballs nearly pop out of his skull at the unexpected surprise.

She acted as if they could ever have a normal conversation with her boobs right in front of his face. “So, are you still tired? Just wanna get washed up and go to sleep?”

He tried to answer but from the first word it was impossible. Her pajama shirt was sliding down her perfect shoulders, revealing smooth skin and the flannel fabric cradled her breasts, framing them perfectly. She smelled fresh and fruity, just like her signature lotion scent. Blackberry and vanilla. Her forearms lay against his thighs, forcing his body to turn, and he gasped as her fingers fanned out over his muscular thighs and squeezed them, basically half-crawling into his lap to look up at him, asking her questions in a very leisurely and unbothered tone.

“Tired…?” he echoed, his brain in a completely different dimension. “Wuh?”

Her hands glided up his sides and delicately closed in around his waist. He gasped, stiffening as her touch encased him, feeling the action through the fabric of his tank top. She hummed softly, caressing his waist. Slow. Tender. Not a second of rushing even though blood was rushing straight down into his dick at record speed. He felt her gaze on him and shifted his own to her face, seeing her observe him with lovely eyes that contained all the innocence of a kumiho.

So, none at all.

Her smile reappeared, mysterious and sinful.

Her palm grazed over his tense abdomen and he whimpered under his breath. Or so he thought.

“Feeling good?” she asked serenely.

“Y… Yeah…”

Down. Tracing the button of his jeans. His breath caught in his throat. Fingertip by fingertip, in slow motion, tapping lightly on his bulge. Barely any pressure. Solidly tucked between his legs, her ass sticking out. He would be fine with the other side of the view too. This house needed more mirrors, Jungkook concluded.

“Do you remember why you came to me?”

He stopped staring at her ass as the question registered. He was holding his right arm out and his left elbow was resting on the counter. “In the beginning?”

“Mhm.”

She was now cupping his covered erection and pulsing her grip around it, making his cock throb and leak everywhere. Great. His boxer briefs were a cum-filled mess now, surely. He could feel the squish and the stimulation against the tip. Agonizing pleasure.

His cheeks warmed. “Ah… Yeah… because… my previous girlfriends said I f-fucked like a robot…”

“You think maybe you just weren’t that into them?” she questioned, running her fingertips of her other hand along his back and waist, sending tingles up his spine.

“I…” It was impossible to concentrate. “Ah… Well… A-Aren’t you supposed to fall f-for their personality first…?”

“Is that why you’re into me? My personality?”

Jungkook looked down.

Right at her personali-titties.

He swallowed so hard that he almost choked.

Again.

“Hm?” she mused.

Ripped his gaze from the visual of her prominent nipples hanging down next to his open thighs and into that sly stare that knew everything. Gulp. She continued toying with his crotch, stroking along the length, dipping down to pat the outline of his balls, smirking wider as his cock jerked in his pants. The roar of his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Fuck. It was the power in that gaze. The confidence in her stance. The ability to be below him and be completely, utterly in control. The taste of forbidden fruit, just within reach. The sensation of his whole body being overcome with want and the way she gladly overwhelmed all his senses by her presence alone. She didn’t have to touch him at all. She didn’t have to expose herself. She didn’t have to smell so good. She didn’t have to.

She simply chose to do all those things to drive him even more crazy.

“Yes or no?” she purred.

He could lie, but he was a terrible liar.

“Y… Yes…”

She seemed very satisfied with his response. Slid up between his legs, her hand on his back dropping and gliding up against his chest instead. He shivered, his lips parting as she rose, closer, the warmth of her exhale washing over him, a soft sigh and then their faces close, centimeters from each other with his racing heart under her palm. Her fingers spread out. Her index found his silver chain necklace resting on his collarbones, playing with it with a small smile.

Her other hand was still on top of his hard dick.

Jungkook used to think that there was no way sex could be sexy. The idea of it was sexy. In practice, sex used to be awkward and uncomfortable, but essential to get his rocks off. It felt like something he had to do. But it wasn’t like that, at least with her. Well, he still sometimes felt awkward and uncomfortable, but Jungkook suspected she was doing it on purpose. He didn’t mind though, because she always touched him with such fondness and – maybe this was the delulu talking – but he really didn’t need the sex so much as he needed her to keep looking at him the way she did.

His dick throbbed suddenly in protest.

“Ah–!”

She tilted her head and kissed him.

Placing a chaste kiss right below his lips, the soft press taking his breath away, and then her lips ghosted over his, grabbing a fistful of his tank top and kissing him deeply. Fuck, how he loved her lips. How could he describe them? So fluffy and yet so insistent. Determined, seductive, pulling him to her and sighing, her contented breath filling his lungs and giving him life. His left hand found the collar of her shirt and gripped it tightly, not even realizing he had closed his eyes instinctively, wanting nothing more than to melt into her. Her hair brushed against his cheek and neck. Her scent warmed him, sweet and decadent. Her knuckles pressed into his sternum, unyielding. Her fingers tangled into the silver chain around his neck, possessive.

His brain melted into a puddle of bliss.

He moaned her name into her lips as she parted. She squeezed his inner thigh through his loose jeans. Still, the fabric was too thick for it to be satisfying enough.

“W-Wait…”

“You kinda taste like beef,” she remarked, releasing her hold and patting his chest. “Come on. If we fuck in the kitchen, I’ll have more to clean than your dishes.”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn. “O… Oh.”

She backed up a step and took way too long to button a single button to cover her breasts again. He spent a good ten seconds gawking at their perky shape and the way her obvious nipples stuck straight out. She acted as if nothing was wrong, lingering between his spread-open thighs.

“You have to shower quickly, right? Go get started and I’ll come wash your back.”

“But, n-noona–!”

Her hand flew up and landed at the base of his neck. Thumb to one side, four fingers on the other. Jungkook froze.

She cocked an eyebrow.

Then she smirked.

His pulse hammered in his throat, so close to being constricted.

“Are you saying you’re flexible enough to wash your own back now?”

Jungkook shook his head so fast his vision blurred. “Nope. I’m weak. Help. I can’t take off my clothes either. Owie. It hurts so much.”

“Mmmm, very convincing.” She didn’t sound convinced. At all.

Damnnit.

-

“Gah!”

She gave him an exasperated look. “As if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Minutes later, Jungkook found himself sitting in the bathtub, puffing his cheeks as he washed his hair with his left hand and felt the bath sponge rub against his back. Ah. She was leaning over the side of the tub, holding onto his left shoulder and rubbing circles into his back. Aaaah. He had left the plastic on his right arm for now, intending to remove the tape as his last step so he could rinse it off with a gentle, unscented cleanser. The water was lukewarm. Not the greatest, but he didn’t want to steam up the bathroom. It would be bad for the tattoos.

“U-Um… noona?”

“Hm?”

She rubbed down to his lower back. He sat up straighter. There was a wet towel blanketed over his crotch. Not really for any reason other than cold. Yeah. Anyway. She leaned over and kept going, massaging him at the same time. He gasped as she pressed the base of her palm into his muscle and kneaded.

“I… uh… about what I said earlier…”

“Mhm.”

He jumped a little but she was just leaning over to grab the detachable showerhead, adjusting the water to the correct temperature. “I hope… I hope I didn’t offend you or anything. I do like your personality a lot. You’re assertive and funny and you always remember stuff I like,” Jungkook rambled, lowering his left hand. His right was slightly hanging off the edge of the tub to keep it out of the way. Of course, he scrubbed his armpits before she came in. It would have been rude not to clean all the important bits first.

She rinsed off his back. “I’m not worried,” she chuckled.

“Oh, okay.”

“I don’t mind that you’re shallow. It’s flattering, coming from a hot guy like you.”

“That’s good – wait, what?!”

She sprayed the top of his head and sent him into sputters.

“Ah!”

She grabbed his shoulder, quickly and vigorously rinsing off his hair before pulling the showerhead away and turning off the water. Not before spraying him in the chest though. Jungkook found himself with his drenched hair flat against his forehead, making him unable to see. He felt like a wet dog. He almost wiggled away – until her arm slid down and rested against his chest, her other hand slipping under his wet hair and pushing it back, laughing playfully as she spoke.

“Oh, Jungkook. You’re so silly. Don’t worry about nothing,” she sighed, petting his head.

He couldn’t say anything.

Mostly because her tits were now pressed against the top of his back.

Oh, fuck. Her large, soft nipples rubbed against his shoulders. And her breasts, ooh, so plushy. “Everyone knows you like my personality.” So bouncy. Mmmm. “Just like how everyone knows you’ve been thirsting after me since day one.” No, it was more like first thirty seconds of seeing her. “Just like how everyone knows you’re a pain slut.”

Her breasts pressed against his shoulders.

Wait.

What did she say?

She plucked the towel away from his crotch and locked her fingers around his package.

“AAH!”

She slapped a hand over his mouth and pinned him to her body, crouching over him. It was then – how could it be only THEN – that Jungkook’s brain fully registered that she was topless. Possibly bottom-less too! Not only was she naked but also she was roughly massaging his balls with his rapidly hardening length trapped between her thumb and index finger, essentially making a cock ring with her two fingers and a ball cage with the rest. He gasped, rolling his head back onto her shoulder, moaning behind her hand as her touch switched between caress and choking his balls. There was no water in the tub as the drain wasn’t pushed down.

Her hand changed from covering his mouth to slipping two fingers into his lips.

“See? You like this,” she whispered, sultry and low.

He tried to gurgle out, n-no way, but he was too busy lifting his hips and thrusting upwards, trying to get the friction he so urgently desired but couldn’t achieve. She dragged her nails across his balls and his eyelids fluttered, sucking on her fingers, spit trickling past his lips and down his chin, his moan echoing in the bathroom when she finally closed her grip around his aching cock, pumping slow, running a fingertip over the head, slicking out the pre-cum leaking out.

“P-Please…” he whined.

“You gotta get out now,” she reminded him.

“No, please…”

She slowly thrust her fingers into his mouth, rubbing his tongue. “You should wait longer, shouldn’t you?” He tried to shake his head but he couldn’t, his hips bucking as her speed increased. “Don’t want you to get sweaty and all that.” Fuck, please, he wanted to scream and nearly did when she let go and lightly smacked around his stiff erection, slapping his cock against his tense inner thighs. It bounced around, the head dark red, aching for release. He was so hard that his cock popped right back into position, sticking straight upwards between his spread legs. “Do you really think you’ve been a good boy?” His own saliva was dripping down his chin. How did she get this level of desperation out of him so easily? She held his shaft up with only the back of her thumb and firmly smacked his balls, rapid and light, making him cry out and squirm. “Hold it up.”

“N-Noona, please…”

“Hold it up if you want me to suck your dick,” she ordered calmly.

The thrill raced up his spine. His hair was dripping, droplets down his cheeks and neck. This was it. This electric, intense feeling that seemed to control him, his hand ghosting down to wrap around his twitching length, gasping sharply when her fingers left his mouth. She cupped his chin instead, tilting his head up and now they were looking at each other, only for a moment, her sparkling eyes rich with passion, intoxicating pleasure snaking up his core as he melted under her hot gaze.

This was the feeling Jungkook always wanted.

She lowered herself down. He stared at the ceiling as she teased his balls, moaning and lazily stroking his cock as she slapped them, dragged her fingernails over them, squeezed them. Spit on him. He whimpered, teasing the underside of the swollen head of his cock, more, flinching as she spat on him again, gasping as she dug her nails into the sensitive area behind his balls, coaxing himself to the edge and then stopping, building the frustration.

She kissed his hot cheek.

“You’re doing so good,” she murmured into his ear, licking it softly.

Her right hand closed around his left and they edged him together, their fingers laced, her teeth on the curve of his ear and his moan radiating off the tiles. Long, deep strokes, building up the speed. So good. Tight, rapid pace, close, his chest rattling, so close, his eyes rolling back when her hand clamped around the base of his aching cock and squeezed hard, cutting off the high and colliding him into the mental wall, his dismayed cry drowned out by her lips devouring his.

Fuck!

Was he going to get to bust a nut or not?!

-

“Please, don’t.”

He put on his best pout as she held the Magic-8 ball in front of her body. Still wearing her black seamless panties, but that was it. She was lightly sitting on his thighs, straddling him on the bed as she shook it teasingly.

“Noona, come on…”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

She lowered it and Jungkook gasped as the black plastic ball touched his chest, wiggling uncomfortably as she rolled it back and forth. Foreign and cold. It warmed up against his skin.  She leaned over him, not adding more pressure, but giving a great full-frontal view with her breasts trapped between her upper arms.

“It won’t be fun for me,” he whined, gripping the sheets tightly.

He reached up to squeeze her breasts, using his left hand, shuddering as he felt her hard nipples against his palm, looking up to see her tongue dance at the edge of her smirk, her tousled hair trailing down her shoulder. That had been the game before. He would ask to have sex. She would shake the Magic-8 ball and get his answer – resulting in twenty-six straight refusals from that evil children’s toy. Unlucky? Maybe. Cursed? More likely. Extra cursed because it was Park Jimin who purchased and gifted her the thing.

Grr.

Jungkook was still pissed about that.

She tilted her head, sending part of her face into delicious shadow.

“We can make it a little game.”

His hand slid down her arm and covered hers.

“No games,” he begged, catching the edge of his lower lip with his teeth. Her eyes shifted down. He was playing all his cards. She muttered under her breath, hah, I love that underlip mole of yours, how can I resist a lip bite, fuck, and those cute, round, big brown eyes… all while lowering herself to him, drawn to his plea, releasing her hold on the Magic-8 ball.

She rolled it on his chest and into his open hand.

“Okay. No games.”

She kissed him again.

A claim to his lips. Soft and insistent, working him into a frenzy, making him grip that hard plastic ball tightly as his breathing shallowed, moaning as her tongue slid in, out, in, out. He felt her hands frame his head, crowning him with her fanned-out fingers. Tingling as her thumb rubbed across his temple. His jaw. His earrings, toying with them, nipping at his lower lip and sucking on it, her warm body settling between his legs, soft to hard, rubbing up against him.

Fuck.

Fuuuuck.

She pulled on his hair roughly and his lip slipped from her teeth due his own whimper, gasping hotly as her kisses danced down his throat, then running her tongue over the trail of kisses. She had a hand planted onto his chest to prevent him from arching his back, lapping at his collarbones daintily as she tugged at a fistful of his still damp hair. Sparks of pain showering down from the crown od head meeting the maddening bliss of her lips on his chest, traveling, decorating his clavicle, each mark of her teeth mirroring the redness of a fallen rose petal.

He tried to lower his chin and shuddered against the hurt, making better and worse at the same time, opening his eyes as she let go of his hair, seeing her sliding down his torso.

That ass.

He felt a nip at his nipple and his breathing hitched, snapping down to see her looking up at him, expression highly amused.

“Pretty nice ass, huh?”

No one said she was humble.

He grinned. “Yeah, I should take a pic and make it my phone background.”

She chuckled, running her tongue over his hard nipple and Jungkook shivered, transfixed by the image and the simultaneous surge of pleasure. He lifted his head higher off the pillow. Shallow breaths, watching, the glossy tip of that dexterous pink muscle against his dark nipple, her lips closing around it, feeling his body stiffen as he felt the sucking sensation vibrate through him. The moan bubbled in his tightened chest as she gently bit, licked, sucked, alternating between the actions. Her fingernails dragged over his sides and flexed abs, electrifying his skin with the pressure. He flinched when she released him and replaced the rough play with kisses, moving across his chest to do the same to his other nipple.

She glanced at him, witnessing his perverse enjoyment with a knowing glint in her eye.

He clutched the Magic-8 ball at his side with in his left hand, falling back into the pillow moaning, writhing slightly as the sucking intensified. Her hand slid down, stroking the inside of his thigh. He could barely feel the side of his half-hard cock brush against the back of her hand.

“F-Fuck… please…”

His entire body jolted when she popped her lips off him and sealed her work with a kiss.

“You’re so impatient, Jungkook,” she hummed, pressing her tongue flat to his nipple and rubbing roughly, saliva sticking to his skin. “So needy.”

His mind was spinning. Blood running hot under his skin, body uncontrollably quivering, clutching the sheets and the Magic-8 ball for dear life. The pent-up arousal was driving him insane but, as a wise man once said, gotaa go insane to stay sane. Or something like that. Jungkook couldn’t remember any wise proverbs right now. He was too horny. She was rising, re-clipping her hair with that cute sheep-shaped claw clip, keeping it out of her smirking face.

“Y-Yes, I am needy… a-ah… please…”

Slipping down, down.

She pressed her palms into the innermost part of his thighs, spreading her fingers over his crotch, and swallowed his cock.

He moaned so loud that Min Yoongi surely heard.

Hey.

No one said Jeon Jungkook was subtle.

Especially when being pleasured.

Immediately his cock swelled at her up-and-down motion that came with tongue and lips and a tight, wet, warm throat that pushed him in as deep as possible. He was always somewhat shocked at how easily she maneuvered him without her hands, preferring instead to use only her mouth to take him all the way to the base and lick at his balls, her constricting throat suffocating the thick head of his cock, and then back up, running the sensitive skin over the roof of her mouth and closing her lips around the tip tighter, teasing the underside of the slit with deft flicks. Then, again, swallowing his growing length, molding her tongue to his girth, slathering saliva over his balls.

God, Jungkook loved the bed suck.

She had an immaculate level of control when giving a blowjob on the bed. He didn’t have to do anything but lay back and relax, occasionally looking down to follow her head movements and see his length glistening in between her plush lips, then collapsing again as the erotic euphoria overtook him again, his chest fluttering with the intensity, his core tightening, lost in lust. He completely forgot the itchiness of his right arm. The colors were brighter under the overhead light and the lotion he had applied right before getting into bed, a sharp contrast to her bare arm against his hip, her elegant hand nestled up his side, her perfect round ass in the air. His pants blending into moans, floating on cloud nine from her tight, soft mouth and agile tongue, wondering how the fuck he got this lucky.

She’s basically a porn star in bed, Park Jimin once said.

She paused when she noticed him watching her again. Extended her pink tongue past her lips, slapping his balls and scooping them up against the base of his cock, raising an eyebrow at him.

Damn.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Then – thankfully – she returned her attention to his cock, except this time it was tighter, faster, and he gasped, feeling her push the head up and force it deeper into her throat when she descended, oh, fuck, he could see her breasts bouncing too, those perfect nipples, damn, obvious wet noises drowned out by the more obscene sounds he was making, crying out, moaning, the pace intense and deliberate and racing, and the only way he could describe it was as if somehow her mouth had become a warm, wet sleeve for his twitching cock, powerfully massaging his length all over, close, his eyes rolling back.

There.

He groaned as he shot into her suffocating throat, wanton and pathetic, finally, his mind going blank, pumping thick cum into that tight pocket and whining as she swallowed, fuck, finally, her pinning his flinching hips down as his shuddering length jerked again, another vicious throb and dripping cum, tears stinging the edge of his vision, gasping out her name as the apex of pleasure consumed his nerves and set them alight.

Fucking finally.

He felt his orgasm squish into the back of her tongue and around the aching head of his cock and he moaned. Long and loud and pornographic. He felt himself twitch in her mouth. She brought him down, slow and wet, a low hum vibrating from her throat to his cock to his core.

Jungkook panted.

Tension shimmered throughout his chest and limbs, keeping him breathless.

Wait.

Her tongue rubbed against the underside of his girth, fanning out along the pulsing, abused head, sending racing sparks over his ass and up his spine.

Wait a second.

Her fingertips glided over his slick balls, squeezing them and making him shudder at the shocking bliss.

I’m still hard.

He yelped, snapping his head down, but it was too late, too late to stop, the afterglow of his last orgasm building towards another, her head sliding up and down, her lips flush to his glossy shaft, him whimpering while he watched, shivering at the lewd image and the idea of back-to-back orgasms, so good, fuck, she looks so good and it feels so fucking amazing, the addictive adrenaline spiking, the lasting buzz radiating all over, oversensitivity increasing the forbidden pleasure, tight and wet and soft, taking him as so deep his balls slapped into her chin, the muscles of his body flexed and tense, hard underneath the soft.

His second orgasm slammed into him.

His head fell back and the pleasure swarmed him, knocking the air out of his lungs, drawing out his lustful moan, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Her name tumbled out of his lips, praises, swears, her name again, the words mixing together on his confused tongue. She swallowed again, loud to his ears, so obvious, and he trembled all over. The sharp spasm of ecstasy left him rattled, whining, feeling her licking him again but tender, even more gentle this time, slurping around his softening cock, the sensitive skin prickling and pulsating under her warm tongue.

“So… fuck… s-so fucking good…”

Oh, how he loved the feeling of her lips and those kisses feathering his thighs, his crotch, his cock, his balls, shivering in delight, all his previous frustrations making it everything so much more satisfying.

Uh.

He didn’t just think that.

Shit.

“Man, you’re loud.”

“Gah!”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

She planted herself on top of his drenched cock, laying out all over him with her hands on his chest and shoulder. Jungkook gawked at her and then at his hyung standing there at her open bedroom door, looking around at the pastel sheep plushies decorating her room and pausing at the pink bunny and tuxedo cat plush sitting on her desk. Then those dark brown orbs moved back to her ass leaning against Jungkook’s still trembling thigh.

“You could have taken off your panties,” he grumbled in his low voice.

She turned her head to look back at Yoongi. “Sorry. I didn’t think about it since I wasn’t going to get any tonight. I didn’t know you would be watching.”

Her words made Jungkook frown. “What do you mean, you aren’t getting any?”

She faced him again, raising her eyebrows. “What are you talking about? We shouldn’t push it. You’ll get too sweaty.”

“But, noona, that’s not fair, I could…?”

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

“Use you left hand?” Yoongi snorted. “Meh.”

She smiled. “I’ll wait. I can be patient.”

Yeah, well, guess who couldn’t be patient?

As the youngest, he protested. “You could use my thigh. Or… Or my forearm! You like that!”

“No, no. I’m fine with waiting.”

“You’re doing this on purpose! You’re torturing me by not letting me feel you cum!”

Jungkook paled as his hyung and noona grinned at the same time. Deviously. In unison. Scary as fuck. Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his long black hair framing his cunning eyes and open-mouthed smirk, serving every bit the allegations of being sex on legs. Jungkook trembled as he felt her trail her fingers along the base of his neck, sensually rubbing his collarbone. Thumb on one side, four fingers on the other. Not moving up but reminding him nonetheless.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she drawled.

They were in cahoots.

Not that Jungkook minded.

That was how he got this lucky in the first place.

The Magic-8 ball rested against his naked hip, the window reading, without a doubt.

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