#but all the other girls are like ‘love cap sleeves!!!’ so i will not go full hater

[lyekisses]

my friends are sending me wedding dress choices and im trying soooo hard not to be a say yes to the dress david tutera bridezilla ass bitch bc this is not my wedding 😌peace and love

[vintagebishx]

FOR THE FIRST TIME theodore nott

PAIRINGS: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

WARNINGS: fluff fluff fluff, use of she/her pronouns!, i used all lower caps.

SUMMARY: in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…

“ITS JUST LIKE SEEING HER,

FOR THE FIRST TIME,

AGAIN…”

“The first time you caught my eye

it was not love at first sight.

Instead a quiet curiosity was

planted in my chest and i knew

it was only a matter of time before

you sunk beneath my bones and

nurtured this deep seated familiarity

into a love so fierce that

i would question if i had

ever been in love before”.

THOSE WERE THE words that theo scribbled down in his journal as he sat in the middle of the courtyard amongst other students on the hot and surprisingly toasty day in Hogwarts. he finally dropped the pencil in his hand as his eyes averted back over to the sight before him, y/n.

theo wasn’t normally one for poetry but ever since the first time he had ever saw her, it was all he could think about.

he found himself in a never ending cycle of writing, constantly writing his feelings and thought down whenever she crossed his mind which was all the time.

it was like she had unknowingly helped him discover a part of himself that he was unaware of.

his gaze stuck to her face that was glowing due to the sun hitting her perfect caramel skin. she sat peaceful on the green grass with a big book opened in her hands, one that seemed to capture all of her attention.

his eyes then traveled down to her hands, her hands that were decorated with multiple rings and her wrists that wore a few bracelets.

she wore a sleeveless v-neck jumper on top of a long sleeved shirt as her yellow tie was tied perfectly. she wore two necklaces which hung and rested against his the tie.

he watched as the slight breeze in the air blew into her brown, perfectly curly, and volumed hair which also had a sunflower tucked into the side of her hair slightly matching her yellow, Hufflepuff tie. he wanted so badly to talk to her, to get to know her, to be near her, but he instead found himself gawking from afar and silently hoping that she would at least turn and look his way.

but wether he talked to her or not, even him just being able to look at her was enough to fuel his slight obsession with the girl.

she was special.

she was like the coffee he needed to energise him in the morning, or even the warmth he needed on a cold and gloomy day.

she was the sunshine that could light up any dark room.

with every minute he spent staring at her, he grew even more curious by the second. he wanted to know everything about her.

he wanted to know why she always wore that one bracelet, why she always seemed to read books published by the same author, why she always played with her hair while reading or even why she always came to the courtyard alone at the same time everyday and sat at the same spot too.

he was intrigued by her, she was different.

he didn’t want to say it in a corny way, but she wasn’t like all the other girls in Hogwarts. she kept to herself, had friends but never minded being alone, was always sweet to everyone, and didn’t care how others viewed her.

classic Hufflepuff.

if you had asked him a year ago today if he thought a hufflepuff would ever had him feeling this way, he probably would’ve laughed in your face. what made it worse was that he was presented with so many chances to go and talk to the girl but instead, he froze up and got lost in all of the words that he wanted to say which was nothing like him.

it was like she had casted an irreversible spell that only pulled him closer and closer to her.

“are you okay?” a voice suddenly spoke, causing him to break from his deep gaze.

he looked away from the girl and looked up which finally revealed mattheo, “oh- yeah, yeah!” he spoke as he cleared his throat and silently hoped that his slight infatuation with the girl wasn’t too obvious to his best friend.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down at his friend who was sat alone, “really? cause if you ask me, it looks like little miss Hufflepuff has you distracted…” he spoke with a small smirk.

“what? no!” theo quickly denied as he jerked his head back at his friends’ words.

matteheo took a moment to look down at the notebook that was sat on theo’s lap as he took notice to all the words written down that he struggled to read due to how far it was, “and what is this?” he asked as he suddenly knelt down to pick up the notebook, and got back up on his feet.

a sudden feeling of panic took over theo’s body as he hadn’t told anybody about his recent passion for poetry that was fuelled due to y/n.

“the first time you caught my eye it was love at first sight,��� mattheo began as he read out of theo’s notebook. theodore was quick to stand up in attempts to grab the notebook from his friends’ hand but failed as mattheo continuously swerved his attempts.

“i knew it was only a matter of time before you sunk beneath my bones?” mattheo continued with a surprised tone at what he was hearing.

he had never heard theodore speak ever so passionately before.

“into a love so fierce-” “give me that!” theo interrupted his words as he finally grabbed the notebook from him.

his cheeks were tinted with a light red pigment as a small feeling of embarrassment grew inside of his system.

“your in love?” mattheo spoke with a laugh, “your in love with a hufflepuff?” he continued.

theo rolled his eyes at his words, “can you stop?” he spoke with an irritated tone.

“she’s more than that…” he began, “she’s special, s-she’s like a breath of fresh air in a world filled with copies of each other.” he spoke, his words filled with love as he brought his gaze back to y/n.

her peaceful presence finally bringing back that safe feeling in the pit of his stomach.

mattheo just stood there with his mouth slightly agape, realisation finally taking over him. his friend wasn’t just in love, he was deeply in love.

“wow… it’s worse than i thought, your infatuated nott.” mattheo said in a shocked tone.

he took a moment to look at theo, who put his head down in defeat as his friend uncovered his hidden feelings.

there was a reason as to why he had never told his friend about his liking towards the girl and it was simply because, he wasn’t used to it.

he wasn’t used to liking somebody, at all.

he wasn’t used to constantly thinking about somebody every single moment of the day, or having your heart beat faster at not only the sight of them, but the sound of their name. he wasn’t used to only being happy if he saw a certain someone, or not being able to sleep because of somebody disrupting his thoughts. he just wasn’t used to any of it.

he thought that y/n was just another girl that he would’ve liked for at least two days then gotten over her but no, the past three weeks of non-stop thoughts about her made it clear that it was more than just a crush and that he had to talk to her.

at first he was a little mad at the innocent girl as he wanted to know if she had put a spell over him, but he realised it was all him.

he craved her.

“why don’t you go talk to her, i mean you are theodore n-” “no!” theodore quickly interrupted his friend.

just the thought of her even looking at him made his nerves come to play.

mattheo took a moment to analyse his friends’ body language before letting out a loud laugh, “there’s no way,” he began, “are you… nervous?” he laughed out.

theo rolled his eyes due to it probably being mattheo’s tenth time laughing at him.

“i-i’m not, i just don’t know what i’d say to her.” he explained himself, “since when have you had trouble talking to girls nott? your clearly nervous.” mattheo laughed a little more before stopping.

“you know what?” mattheo spoke which caused theo to listen, “your gonna go over there and just speak whatever comes to mind.” he said.

theodore’s eyes widened at his words, he wasn’t prepared to even be near the girl let alone talk to her.

“what? no i’m not-” his words were interrupted by mattheo who grabbed the boys’ arm and began pulling him towards where the girl was peacefully sat, “yes you are!” mattheo spoke, simply ignoring the boy who was trying to rebel and pull away from his strong hold.

“no i’m not, now fuck off!” theo spoke harshly as he began using his strength to try and pull away but mattheo wasn’t having it.

“yes you are!” mattheo protested as he let go of theo before giving him one final strong push, pushing him right in front of the girl and causing him to drop his notebook onto the floor.

the commotion and sudden figure blocking her from the sun was enough to make y/n finally bring her head up from her book, she looked up to find the brunette boy staring right at her which slightly had her confused.

he looked a little anxious, as if he had been scared.

an awkward smile took over the girls’ face, “um, hello…” she said hesitantly as he did come from nowhere, “can i help you or?…” she continued.

but theo just stood there, like an idiot.

what am i doing, say something. he told himself mentally as he knew how stupid he looked, this was seriously unlike him.

“uhh, i-um,” he muttered out, “no!” he finally spat out as he finally moved out of his frozen state that he was once in before.

and there it was. the usually cool, and laid-back theodore nott was not tripping over his words and struggling on how to even form a sentence.

“oh…” y/n spoke, not really knowing what to tell him as she just continued to look up at him.

her eyes left his as she began to look at the grass, noticing a random, and unfamiliar notebook beside her.

“is this yours?” she asked him before she picking it up, “um yeah.” theo nervously spoke.

just then, y/n’s eyes scanned the page that was open. she quickly realising that it was a poem, her eyes lit up as she looked back at him.

“wait, did you write this?” she asked him as she stared right at him, waiting for a response.

theo’s eyes grew wide at the fact that she looked at the poem that he had made about her, his heart beats sped up due to a little embarrassment.

“y-yeah, but i’m not really a writer so-” “are you kidding me? i love poems!” she exclaimed, interrupted his words.

she took a moment to look a with a wide smile, the smile that made him want to melt.

“why don’t you sit down?” she offered which made him become shocked, “i mean unless you don’t want to then-” “no of course i do!” he suddenly spoke before walking a little closer to her, kneeling down, and sitting right next to her on the grass.

theo turned around and took a moment to look at the girl, this was the closest he had ever been to her and definitely the longest, and the first time, he had ever talked to her.

he took a good and long look at the girl, she was even prettier when closer.

her shoulder lengthened curls captured her face perfectly as they were as healthy as ever, she had a few small brown freckles on her face which is something he had never gotten to notice until now, he also didn’t notice how high her cheekbones were either. her full straight eyebrows were what made her face even more perfect as her almond shaped eyes topped her look off. his eyes then flickered to her her full, succulent lips which were as soft as ever. to top things off, her beautiful skin glowed ever so gently as the sun bounced off her face.

she was perfect… no, ethereal.

her smell too, she smelled addictive.

her sweet vanilla, tonka bean, red berries and mandarin scent was what drew the boy crazy. it made him want to be near her forever and ever.

“do you mind if i read this?” she asked him nicely before turning around and looking him looking him right into his eyes, “uh, sure.” he spoke as he quickly got out of whatever trance he was in.

it wasn’t like she would know it was about her anyways, he thought to himself.

y/n’s eyes went down the page as she read the poem, his writing style completely had her drawn as if it were written about her.

“oh my gosh, this is so beautifully written.” she complimented as she still looked at the notebook, she couldn’t believe how well he had managed to portray his feelings onto the paper.

she turned to look at him, “i-i mean, you sunk beneath my bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce? beautiful.” she recited his words as she continued to stare at him, impressed by how poetic he was.

theo’s eyes widened at her sudden compliments, he felt his cheeks heat up.

“thank you…” he muttered as a small smile came across his face, “who is this about?” she suddenly asked him.

theodore cleared his throat, “um, p-pardon?” he nervously asked even though he had heard her perfectly, he was just caught up by her question and did not know what to say.

a smile took over the girls’ face as she let out a breathy laugh, God that smile…

“i said, who is this about? i mean it’s so deep, there has to be someone because this isn’t something you can just make up…” she explained to him, and she was right. there was somebody who had inspired him to make the poem and it was her.

but he couldn’t tell her that.

how was he meant to explain to her that he wrote her a whole love poem, and many more, that a wife’s own husband could probably never make up if he tried.

how could he explain that for the past three weeks, she had been running endlessly through his mind?

how could he explain that every time he saw her, it felt like seeing her for the first time again?

how could he explain that in a world full of chaos, she was the peace in his presence?

he felt himself choke up due to nerves, he really did not know what to say to her. he was confused. he was confused on how this girl had so much power over him without even realising.

“a girl.” he managed to finally spit out, “it’s um, it’s about this girl.” he continued.

his eyes wandered her perfectly crafted face before opening his mouth to speak some more, “there’s this one girl who is beautiful. s-she’s sweet, kind and has been stuck in my mind almost everyday.” he spoke, “but the thing is… i haven’t talked to her yet”.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows, “well if you haven’t spoken to her before, then how do you know she’s all of those things?” she questioned curiously.

“because for three weeks i’ve been sat there like an idiot gawking at her, watching her interact with others instead of being a man and attempting to talk to her.” he explained, “there’s just something about her, she’s absolutely perfect.” he rambled on.

a smile that spread on her face exposed her pearly whites to him, “sounds like your in love!” she said excitedly.

“why can’t you just try and speak to her?” she asked curiously.

theo chucked as he brought his head down before bringing back up and look at her again, “because she makes me nervous, and i never get nervous around girls.” he said.

“but she’s different… she’s not like the rest of them, she’s even better.” he said as he was now getting lost in her beautiful brown eyes that seemed to have more colour due to the sun, “s-she’s special.” he muttered as he dropped his eyes to her lips.

it took everything in him to not just take her in his arms and give her the biggest hug ever, but he stopped himself.

y/n examined the boy and his body language, it was really no secret that he was in love. she had seen many of her friends fall in love so she was pretty good at detecting when somebody was undergoing symptoms of the contagious disease of love.

just as she was about to respond to his words, a voice interrupted her words.

“y/n? y/n!” a voice spoke causing them both to turn their heads, revealing a blonde girl in hufflepuff uniform that theo had recognised from one of his classes, her name was scarlett.

“oh hi scar!” y/n exclaimed happily, her eyes lighting up as she saw her dearest friend.

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere, everyone has!” she said excitedly as she got closer to the duo sitting down on the grass.

“we need to go, it’s girls night tonight and we need to start getting ready remember?” scarlett reminded her friend which caused y/n to gasp, “oh my goodness, how could i forget?” y/n questioned herself.

she grabbed her tote bag and shoved her book in there before standing up. scarlett held her hand out, which y/n took happily and began to walk with her.

however, y/n’s movements came to a halt.

theo watched as y/n mumbled a few words to her friend before turning back around and making her way back over to him, causing him to smile a little.

“i’m so sorry, i never got your name.” she spoke, “so incredibly rude of me.” she rambled on which only caused theo to look up at her and smile due to how cute she was.

his was also slightly shaken at the fact that she really didn’t know who he was, he believed that he had made quite the reputation for himself so it shocked him.

he stood up from the ground, his tall frame now meaning that she was the one looking up at him.

“theodore, theodore nott.” he informed her, holding his hand out in hopes that she didn’t deny his request.

his nerves died down as she accepted his request and shook his hand, “i’m happy i met you theo.” she smiled. her smooth hands felt like something he had been missing his whole life.

“wait can i call you that?” she asked frantically, she didn’t want to offend somebody she had just met.

theodore smiled at how cute she was being in that moment, “of course you can… you can call me whatever you want.” he said, slightly regretting what he last said as he didn’t want to embarrass himself even though it was probably too late.

but y/n just let out a laugh. not one that was degrading, but one that made him realise that she found what he said funny which honestly calmed him down.

y/n finally let his hand go before giving him a heart warming smile and walking off as he just stood their and watch her skip over to her friend with a smile planted on his face.

“you see, now that wasn’t hard was it?” mattheo asked his friend cockily as he came out from his hiding spot behind the tree.

but theo didn’t hear him.

instead, he continued to watch the girl walk further, and further away as his stomach did somersaults.

poem made by: Lyra Wren

border creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

AUTHOR SPEAKS! i kind of based this off of an unpublished draft so if i post something familiar to this, it’s cause i described the character in the same way as the draft

i hope you guys enjoyed this though!!

[cherrycranes]

Real Cowgirls Ride (Emmett x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader Summary: When you go to a bar in upstate New York with your girlfriends for a bachelorette party, you encounter a hot rugged man who´ll teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl. Word count: 4,248 Contents: (Minors DNI). No apocalypse AU. Age gap (Reader is 24, Emmett is 39), Oral sex (fem receiving), a little bit of ass licking (fem receiving), fingering, P in v, protected sex! Author's notes: Once more, a collab with @fuckiingloser cause that's my wifey. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy the ass licker.

It was the first time you ever stepped a foot in this rural upstate New York town. Certainly an interesting choice for a bachelorette party, but your friend: the bride, and her future husband had grown up here. It was nice, though. A very appreciated change of scenery from your busy downtown New York City life. It had been a 3 hour drive to get here, and you planned to just have a good time.

The party had a cowgirl theme and you had gone all out: a borrowed pair of red cowgirl boots that you had never imagined wearing in your life, a pair of dangerously tiny Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that said “Budweiser” across the front. All topped with a matching cowboy hat sitting on top of your head. Your girlfriends showered you with compliments, you played the part so well.

It was around 11:30 pm now, and after several stops of the bar crawl, you all walked into a smoky, dark dive bar. The neon signs gave the entire room a dull glow. It was moderately full, mostly with old blue collar men tired from a long day's work. Some of them gave your group a few stares that only your tipsy state managed to ignore. You had come here for fun, and that’s what you would have. 

You got a big table, ordered some drinks and shots and cheered for the bride, wishing her all the best with the love of her life. And, in secret, you hopelessly wished that you would find yours too… You were painfully single at 24 and your only one previous boyfriend had cheated on you after a year of dating. You were still young but loneliness stung.

To distract yourself, you ordered a few more shots and just went along with the vibe of the bar and your friends’ laughter. Some moments later, you wandered over to the old school jukebox that sat alone on a dark corner to flip through the endless pages of song options. Some you knew, some you didn’t, and one you picked before a rugged voice behind you interrupted you:

“Excuse me, miss...” You turned to look. “I just have to have a look at these fancy red cowgirl boots up close...” The man in front of you said with a charming little smirk and with his baby blue eyes looking down at your feet, then at your legs, your body and, eventually, meeting your eyes. 

You looked him over too, with his plain white t-shirt, blue wrangler jeans, dusty work boots, scruffy beard with a few silver strands in it and a ball cap with some brown curls peeking out underneath it. Quite handsome. His little excuse to come over and talk to you was pathetic but cute, it had made you smirk a little. And when you looked into his beautiful eyes and saw that pretty smile again, you decided to give him a shot.

“Honestly… My buddies over there were givin’ me a hard time and said that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say something to the pretty girl in the red cowboy boots...” He gestured over to his friends in the booth in the other corner who gave you a wave and smile. You turned back to look at him, and gave yourself the luxury of eyeing him up and down again. He was definitely older than you, but not exactly old enough to be your father. He must have been in his early 40’s at most. He was sort of rugged, most likely a blue collar man. Some tattoos poked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He was not the type of guy you were used to encountering in New York City. “I'm Emmett..” He smirked, and you chuckled a bit at his words.

“Hate to break the news but I borrowed these from a friend… I’m not a real country girl.” You admitted with a smile. Emmett laughed softly and leaned against the almost forgotten jukebox.

 “Well… They look good on you either way… That’s for sure…” He looked over your body once more, shameless infatuation irradiating from him. His boldness made you smile again, and admittedly, it also turned you on. Like clockwork, the first notes of the song you picked started to play and Emmett gave you an approving smile.

“Good choice… You’ve got good taste obviously… Would you like to dance, beautiful?” He asked, his voice like velvet in your ears. You felt a sweet heat rush to your cheeks and you nodded.

“I'd like that.” You smiled and he took your hand with a gentleness that was to die for, pulling you closer and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. In return, you wrapped your arms around his neck and followed him along. Butterflies flew in your stomach like they hadn’t in so long when his arms tightened around you.

You chatted a little, dancing slowly in the middle of the dive bar with his rough hands rubbing the exposed skin of your back. In the background of the slow song, you could make out the voices and giggles of your friends who must have been staring in amusement and support. 

In between the small conversations and the dance, you found out Emmett owned a farm nearby. Mostly horses and some crops. You also found out he was 39 years old. Never married, currently single. Then it came time for questions about your life, your work, your age, where were you from…

“Ahh, so you’re a city girl, makes sense… Never seen someone as hot as you around here before...” Emmett whispered, still swaying with you and still holding you tight. You blushed, something not everybody did to you, but there was something about him. His looks, his charm, his rough hands. You couldn't help yourself.

Guided by that feeling, you kept talking. Now telling him about your failed relationship, your cheater ex-boyfriend and your 8 month-long singlehood. Emmett’s brow furrowed upon hearing that.

“Fuckin’ asshole… Who would ever wanna lose you? You need a real man… Not a little immature boy..” He whispered, shaking his head gently and tightening his tattooed arm around you ever so slightly, just for the butterflies in your stomach to go even wilder. 

Your song ended and the jukebox went silent. Emmett immediately asked to buy you a drink, and how would you even say no? Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a barstool with him standing in front of you, a hand on your thigh making you swoon. He leaned over to order, the scent of his almost worn-off cologne sending more heat towards the right places.

“Two miller lites please, thanks.. ” The bartender cracked open two beers and pushed them towards Emmett. He handed you one along with a sly smile, his other hand still on your thigh.

“Well… Cheers to a good night that I'm hoping gets even better.” Emmett held his drink up to yours and clicked them together with a nice melodic sound. 

“Cheers.” You chuckled, arousal pooling in your lower abdomen and burning steady for the entire time you and Emmett talked and flirted in between sips. Some guilt crept up on you at having practically abandoned your girlfriends, but every quick glance towards them made you find them winking and putting their thumbs up. So you focused back on Emmett, laughed at his jokes, touched his arm, gave him your best smile…

“Can’t believe a pretty girl like you is interested in an old man like me.” He rubbed his hand softly on your exposed thigh, and you couldn't help but let out a sincere chuckle.

“You're hotter than any guy I've met in the city by a million honestly… A real man who works with his hands and knows what he wants and isn’t shy about it…” Every word of yours was soaked in a sensual tone and your eyes never looked away from him now. He had the most beautiful pale blue eyes you had ever seen, his pupils were long dilated from looking at you, and they seemed to get even more when he heard you talking like that.

“Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy… I’ve gotta say you’re one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.” Emmett leaned in to whisper into your ear, his lips giving you a featherlight touch. “My hands aren’t the only thing I’m good with…” His warm breath sent a satisfying shiver down your spine. “And I do know what I want… I wanna see what’s underneath this little crop top and these tiny jean shorts…” 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. His rough hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh firmly, the sensation, along with his words, going straight to your core and now dampened panties. 

It was 12:45 am now, the clock upon the wall ticked in front of Emmett’s eyes with an eager question. 

“It's getting pretty late… Whaddya say you come home with me tonight… And I can teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl?” He whispered through a seductive smirk, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and effectively making your clit pulse. You bit your lip, took in the pale blue of his eyes and leaned a bit closer.

“You wanna be my teacher?” You asked him, holding his gaze. Emmett nodded before taking a swig of his beer, finishing it and putting it on the bar.

“I'm sure a girl like you could teach an old dog like me a few tricks too…” 

Your smirk turned into a grin before his eyes and your wet pussy fluttered again. God, he was so smooth and beyond sexy. The kind of man you needed.

“Take me home cowboy.” You whispered, ripples of arousal traveling around your body as you watched Emmett pull out his wallet and slap a 20 dollar bill on the counter to cover for your drinks and tip, before taking your hand like a gentleman.

Your girls cheered when they saw you walking out with him, and you so graciously gave them a playful middle finger that made them laugh out loud.

Emmett held the door open for you and all the exposed parts of your body felt the cool summer breeze of the night air. Not for long though, his truck was just a few steps away, and as the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you and helped you in. The inside was rather cozy, an air freshener hung from the rear-view mirror along with a, quite fitting, tiny cowboy hat charm. You flicked it with your finger as Emmett got in the driver’s seat. 

“Before we leave...” He started, leaning over the center console. Before you could ask him anything, his lips met yours in a hot, sensual kiss. Inevitably, your hand reached up to touch his beard, and you delighted with the taste of beer and faint mint gum in his mouth.

 “Sorry, I just had to… Couldn’t wait another minute.” He whispered against the softness of your lips, forming a smile. He sat back in his seat and started the truck up, making it roar to life. His left hand held the wheel and his right hand found his new favorite spot: your thigh. Soft rock born from his radio barely made noise as he drove you down the mostly empty country roads to his home nearby. You raised both eyebrows when an old farmhouse and several barns came into view.

“Wow… All this is yours?” You asked softly, admiring the vast space bathed in starlight.

“It is indeed, pretty girl.” Emmett smiled, pulling up next to the house and getting out of his truck, this time helping you out of it, upholding the true gentleman behavior. 

His arm wrapped around you once again, his body warmth fighting for you against the chill summer night’s breeze. You smiled when the front door opened for you and you were the first to step foot inside the cute little farmhouse. It was rather lovely, perhaps too minimally decorated but it was to be expected, he was a 40 year old man living alone. You seemed to be the most feminine thing in this house. 

“I love it… So cozy.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, attracting Emmett to you. His hands found your hips and he looked down at you with that flirtiness that made your pussy wetter. 

“You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.” He whispered, closer and closer to you until another sensual kiss captured your lips. Your mouth gave his skillful tongue entrance and with a delicious groan he picked you up easily. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands supported you by holding your ass. He swallowed a moan from you and walked you both across the house, towards the stairs and into his bedroom. There, he laid you down on his big bed, his lips reluctantly leaving yours for air.

You propped yourself up to your elbows, granting him a visual feast for his eyes to devour. Your exposed midriff, your little shorts and those cute little red boots. Since your cowboy hat had been lost somewhere on the way to his bed, your hair was slightly messy, and your lips glistened from his saliva. He didn’t know where to begin with you. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy…” He admired you, reaching down to pull one of your boots off, then the other one. Both joined his wooden floor. “I need to see this perfect body naked for me…”

You giggled, his hands now occupied themselves with your jean shorts. In a couple of seconds they also met the floor.

“Would ya look at that…” Emmett let out a flirty whistle upon seeing what you hid underneath the denim: a little red thong that made his cock twitch in his jeans, another reminder of how painfully hard he was. His calloused thumb didn’t resist and ran over your clothed pussy, slowly making its way between your folds and marveling at the feeling of the damp fabric. He growled in approval. 

“Someone’s wet…” He looked into your eyes and you felt a rush of blood divide itself to reach both your cheeks and your needy cunt. You bit your lip, your body ablaze.

“Flip over for me, baby… Face down ass up.” He ordered after playing with you over your panties a little bit. You, incredibly turned on and obedient to any sexy command he could throw your way with that deep voice of his, didn’t even think about it twice.

“Yes, Sir.” You played along, flipping over for him with your ass in the air and your cheek against the duvet cover. 

“Fuuuck…” He groaned at the sight. You knew very damn well your little thong was covering absolutely nothing from behind. “I wanna make sure this little pussy is prepped for my lesson…” he said, peeling the thong off you slowly. 

Anticipation pooled at your cunt, the flimsy red fabric left your body with his help. Once you were free, Emmett palmed both your asscheeks and spread them slowly. He moaned at the sight of your glistening pussy and tight asshole, all fully waxed.

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ…” He breathed out, feeling his heart skip a beat. “I could come just looking at you…” He whispered just inches away from your needy cunt.

You moaned softly at his words, feeling completely exposed yet so turned on. Nothing else could matter to you anymore.

“Please...” You whimpered so needily, he couldn’t resist leaning in and letting his tongue slide between your slippery folds. A guttural groan of his made your pussy reverberate, the taste of you on his tongue so addictive, so divine.

“Oh my god…” Now, you moaned. Emmett’s hot tongue licked a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your ass, flicking against it. The sensation was so good you could barely comprehend it.

“You taste like honey…” He purred to our flesh before spitting on your pussy, his saliva slowly dribbling down between your lips and making him groan in approval. Two of his fingers gathered some of that spit on them before circling your aching hole, slowly pushing inside of you from behind. 

You moaned over and over, his thick fingers pumped in and out of you in a slow but firm motion. He watched hungrily as your tight cunt took them in so easily and so greedily.

 “Fuck… Feels so good…” You spoke in between moans that only got louder when Emmett curled his fingers inside you, hitting that special spot. “Holy fuck…” 

The louder you moaned, the faster his thick fingers moved and curled. Your eager pussy had his index and middle fingers completely wet and glistening.

“That feels good, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk. “Gotta make sure this little pussy is ready to ride my big cock…” he growled hungrily. 

“I-I’m ready… Please…” His pumping fingers had you bucking your hips in desperation and stuttering, almost out of your mind. Emmett loved every single detail about it, you looked just so beautiful when you were this horny and needy. Mercifully, he pulled his fingers out of your begging cunt and slowly brought them to his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

“Flip over, baby.” He commanded, the sound of the zipper of his jeans making your ears perk up. You did as he said, catching the glimpse of his pants hitting the floor and his shirt being pulled over his head. He tossed it aside, the view of his toned, hairy chest and arms, along with those sexy tattoos of his made your pussy feel even more needy. Your eyes feasted on him, from his chest to his hard on in his briefs.

“I think you’re ready for your lesson…” Emmett crawled onto the bed and laid on his back, dark curls resting on his pillows. Right away, you sat on your knees, watching the way his arm flexed as he reached over to the side table and opened the drawer. Touch guided his way to a gold wrapper.

“A little help?” He smirked, looking down at his hard cock still tucked in his underwear. You smiled and nodded, your fingers hooking on the gray waistband and gently peeling the fabric down his legs. His big hard cock immediately sprung free for your eyes to devour. A throaty groan resonated from him. It was much bigger than what you had pictured, it was impossible to not stare at it in all its veiny, throbbing glory. 

Emmett ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling the latex down his thick cock and looking up at you with a sexy smile.

“You ready to be my cowgirl?” 

Immediately, you snapped out of your trance and nodded.

“Yes, sir…” Your voice came out sweet and so lovely, his hand motioned towards him.

“C’mere, baby…” Emmett cooed and you moved to stand above him. You lowered down slowly on him until your sensitive folds felt the covered tip of his cock, making him groan a little at the friction.

“Mmm, slow baby…” He coached you in a soft voice, putting his hands on your hips and guiding you. “Sink down slowly…” And slowly you did it. His cock slid inside your tight hot ready entrance easily, with all the time in the world. You sank down further, each of your knees on either side of his thighs almost trembling at the stretch. Loud moans escaped you both in unison as you adjusted to him and he adjusted to you. You felt so full, for a second you even doubted if it all could fit, but, as if his cock was designed for your tight little cunt, he fully slid right in with ease. 

“Oh, fuck…” You breathed out, looking into his beautiful eyes through your fluttering eyelashes. “So deep…” Words came in soft whine. Soft, clingy hands supported you by touching his broad, hairy chest. Emmett smirked, a perverted gleam in his eye from watching you adjusting to his thick cock.

“You feel me in here, baby?” He whispered, voice thick and heavy with lust. One of his calloused hands moved from your hip to your lower belly, pressing into your soft flesh and creating an erotic pressure that you could only moan and nod to. You felt him so deeply, all over and inside you.

“You feel so fucking good around me…  So tight and warm. I think this pussy was made to ride my cock.” His voice was low and rough, both hands moved to your hips again, ready to begin.. 

“Now, just go with the flow and get into a good rhythm baby… I’ll help…” He coached you with a sly grin that made your cunt clench around him. He was just so sexy, and he knew and reveled in it. “Just relax and enjoy the ride…” 

After exhaling a needy breath, you started to swivel your hips a bit, riding him slowly. Emmett groaned, his eyes closed in utter pleasure. His hands stayed glued to your hips and guided the slow rhythm your rolling hips set. You both moaned. His hips moved a little under you, encouraging you more and more.

“Look at you cowgirl...” His voice was already a little breathy, his groan took over the last letters of the word “girl”. His cock throbbed inside you at the sight of your pretty tits moving under the Budweiser logo. He helped you out with that, pulling your cropped shirt off your body and hungrily taking in the view of your bare chest as you bounced on his dick.

You moaned more when the tip of his cock hit that deep spot, and the more you spent riding him and earning yourself the title of cowgirl, the more he entertained an idea. 

After a minute or two, Emmett pulled you down, making you chest to chest with him and wrapping his toned arms around you. A searing, sloppy kiss entered your mouth while his hips pistoned from beneath. Your sweet tongue melted into his before he whispered against your lips.

“Now it’s time for you to relax and I'll do all the work baby…” His hoarse voice tickled your skin and he planted his feet on the mattress, gaining the support he needed to immediately pick up the pace and pound into you relentlessly from underneath. No thoughts registered properly in your brain from that point forward, it was all just a hot, wet pool of pleasure. A series of curses left your lips with no particular order and with no respect for anything.  

“Oh-fuck… Oh my fucking god... Fuck!” You cried out into the skin of his neck, the sound of your voice mixing with his low groans and the slapping of skin.

“You fuckin like that?” He panted into your ear, his hips never stopping as you moaned non stop.

“Yes... Yes... Fuck, yes!” You cried out as his hands moved to spank your ass, hard. You almost screamed, the sting nearly sending you over the edge. It was so overwhelming, you didn’t fully realize just how close you were until that moment.

“Jesus… I think I'm gonna come…” You whimpered and his hand came down again hard on your ass, definitely leaving a red mark. Emmett held you so tight against his chest, holding you in place for his thick cock to slam into over and over.

“Come for me..” He looked right into your eyes with pure want in the blue of his irises. And as if on command… You did. 

Eyes squeezed shut so tight you saw lights, a whiny moan was born from the depths of your chest and your sweet, slick cunt clenched around him tight. Your legs couldn't stop shaking and your orgasm took over every single sense. All your being was just a giant orgasm that still could feel him pumping hard into you.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out in awe watching and feeling you succumb to all the pleasure. 

“Good girl..” He whispered, praising you right before capturing your lips in a hot kiss. “I'm coming too..” Even in your state, you could tell. His thrust had gotten sloppier and his breathing was much heavier. He wasn't able to hold back much longer. Inside the transparent latex, you felt him pulse and fill the material with his warm cum. He groaned, his arms held you tight and kept you there until the last drop was out.

Panting like you had just ran a marathon and with hearts beating fast, you laid there chest to chest. You put your forehead against his in a sweet moment, in response, his hand rubbed your back slowly.

 “Jesus… that was...” He whispered, still a little out of breath looking right into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush and put on a shy smile. 

“...the best sex i’ve ever had…” You softly finished his sentence. 

He pulled out slowly and sat up with you still pressed against his chest. His eyes studied your face for a minute before speaking.

“I think you may be a real cowgirl after all…” There was that sly smirk once more, one that made you return the sentiment and lean in with him for one last soft kiss.

Pinterest board with our visual inspo for this fic, made by @fuckiingloser

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

[godhandler]

yuuji x reader, idiots in love, 1300+, besties who have never had a kiss before <3

teenage midnights are for the delinquents, the up-to-no-good kids, the bad influences– namely, you and best friend!itadori yuuji. the stolen liquor bottles clink-clinked under your hoodies as you sneaked out the Jujutsu High kitchen, headed towards The Big Tree to execute the next part of your mission: try out alcoholism. 

gojo-sensei would have your heads if he knew what you two were up to. “careful, up ye go!” yuuji hoists you on his back so that you can reach up to one of the thicker branches and pull yourself up there. “don’ ye drop the bottles on my head.”

he’s a long way from Sendai but the accent stuck like gum under a school desk. you watch him easily climb up The Tree and sit on the branch (which bends a little under his weight) with you. the thick foliage now veils you two from the outside world, which is great because yuuji’s already producing the bottles from under his hoodie. “soju, whiskey, white rum,” he reads out your loot, “do ye think iss enough?”

“how should i know, i’ve never drank either.” you reply, before a pressing concern hits you. “yuuji, what if we get too drunk and fall off the tree?”

he pauses his attempt to bite the cap off the whiskey before taking his yellow hoodie off. you let your eyes wander (why not? not like he’ll notice) across his collarbones, biceps, the outline of his abs barely visible through his tank top, the promise of facial hair under his jaw. he wraps his hoodie around your waists together, tying the sleeves into a knot, temple-like circle of protection around you two. 

how could anyone not fall for yuuji? how could you not? but itadori yuuji is a teenage boy, and like all teenage boys, he’s never comprehended the idea that the pretty girl he has a crush on might like him back. he doesn’t see the way you look at him when he’s not looking, he doesn’t get that you enjoy his company a bit more than a friend would. he doesn’t know that he’s not the only one in love.  

“don’ worry, i’ve gotcha. we won’ fall now.” “yuuji, we’re tied to each other, not the tree. now we’ll just fall off together.”

you stifle a shared giggle at his idiocy (everything is funnier when you’re breaking rules). “i don’ mind,” and even in the dark you can tell that his cheeks are as cherry-pink as his fluffy hair. “i’d fall with ye alright.” 

as carefree as you can affect, you try to look elsewhere, at the glittery tokyo city skyline and the stars overhead because you’re blushing hard as well. how can you not when he says things like that? 

you clear your throat: “aren’t you cold, yuuji? it’s december.” 

he flexes his arms at that, “i’m strong, don’ worry.”   

“lemme–” you scoot closer to him, almost nose-to-nose (or chest-to-boobs, in yuuji’s mind, who is desperately trying to not think of it), sharing body heat, so mammalian. the branch shakes when you move. the bottles, squeezed between the two of you, clink. “–warmer now?”

“ye-yeah,” he picks up the whisky, “wanna try?”

“damn, we didn’t bring glasses, yuuji!”  “what are ya even talkin' about? just drink normal,” which is what he says, but as you give him the bottle back after your first sip (“yuckk, it’s disgusting, like hand sanitizer!”) he realises his grave mistake. you put your lips on the rim, you drank from it, your tongue licked off the drop at the end. it’s like an indirect kiss. 

“i… i guess so, yuuji, but you don’t have to take it like that. you can… uh, you can wipe the rim before you drink? my mouth is clean, i brushed–and i floss too–” 

fuck, i said it loud out? yuuji panics a little. “no, no i don’ mind, i didn’ mean it like that! yer clean! there’s no need to wipe the rim–”

“i really don’t mind, now that you say it, it is like an indirect kiss–”

“– i don’ wanna wipe the rim! i’d indirect kiss ye anytime!” 

the world is never rawer than it is at fifteen. 

yuuji backpedals as gracefully as a dying cockroach. “i’m drunk. ignore me.” he hasn’t even had a single sip. “that was sukuna speakin’.” 

internally screaming at his own cringefail behaviour, the boy doesn’t realise that despite whatever throne he’s raised you to in his head, you’re just the same as him. the most pathetic creature of all humanity: a teen in love. 

courage. have courage! i’m a strong independent woman and i speak my mind!

but it comes out as a whisper, “i don’t mind indirectly kissing you, yuuji.” and you immediately backtrack as well: “i’m sorry. i’m drunk too.” you had ONE fucking sip. 

yuuji can feel your breath on his neck, your lashes fluttering against his skin. anymore of this and he’s going to melt into a puddle. he doesn’t even realise when his hand reaches under your hoodie to rest against the curve of your waist. but you do, you can’t help shivering at his touch– his rough palm, his fingers curled, nails slightly denting crescents onto your soft skin. 

she’s warm, it occurs to him. “in movies people get drunk and indirectly kiss all the time, i’ve seen it. but they don’ do it indirectly… so-so we’re drunk now–and–”

“yuuji,” you tell him. “kiss me.” 

he doesn’t need to be told twice. 

heart jackhammering in his chest, he bends down over you, memorising your pretty face and your closed eyes and your cutely red cheeks and your little pout for a second. you miss the first time, your lips landing instead on his chin, and while you giggle he brings his other hand to cradle your ear and lead you to his mouth properly. 

it’s soft. his lips are soft. you can’t help bringing your arms around him, brushing your fingers into his hair. “-ah!” his mouth gasps open when teasingly pull his locks, and you can feel his smile on your lips before he lightly nips your bottom lip. A hand strokes the side of your waist gently. it’s such a fragile dream he’s lucked into, he doesn’t want to wake up any time soon. 

he’s the bolder one: his tongue presses through your mouth, shoulders visibly heaving as your tongues meet. your hands shake. his tighten onto you. 

he licks up the length of your tongue, drinks your moans down, lets you suck on his tongue. there’s a tent in his pants that he hopes you haven’t noticed (of course you have, sitting as close as you are) but you’re both way too embarrassed to mention it. he doesn’t even dare to move his hands up towards your breasts– at best, he’s grazed the edges of your bra. that’s okay. all in good time. this is only the first time you’ve kissed.  drunk on potent youth under the star-wide sky, it feels like the first of a lifetime-full of kisses to come.

“ye do taste like hand sanitizer”, a thought from his buzzed head that he mumbles out. “and yer so soft.” 

“you have soft hair… lips too,” you reply. 

“kiss me more,” he drops his forehead to yours, “or i’ll die, i’m tellin’ ya.” 

you break apart only when the sky starts to lighten from pitch black to purple, dawn threatening on the horizon. he’s not done and neither are you. he kisses you one last time, a birdlike peck on your lips, the tip of your nose, a little pinch on your waist. there’s quite a few last kisses. every time he decides just one more and that’s it. 

the untouched bottles clink-clink in your laps as you sigh into his neck. he rubs your back and arms, keeping you warm as the temperature starts dropping. his cheek rests on the top of your head and you can still feel him blushing through your scalp. there’s so much to say– wow, that was amazing or i think i have feelings for you or i want to do this again or keep touching me– that you end up saying nothing at all. nothing but–

“ hey, yuuji…”  “mmm?”  “i think your hoodie’s all stretched out now.”  

a/n: gojo next day– aah yuuji-kun did you sleep well last night teehee

masterlist new!

[bonbonly]

college au! daniel.. people (me) died.. i LOVE college/uni au’s so lord, sign me up. especially because i actually have my own variation of student! daniel brewing.. nsfw obvi but.. another au about it? tell me more 🫵

no em omg because i have this WHOLE idea it's crazy, lemme drop a thot - i mean erm, thought

bon's thoughts (18+) (exhibition, p in v, calling reader a whore/slut, i got carried away again lol)

collegeau! daniel ricciardo is definitely your best friend. the both of you constantly have to leave lecture halls because he keeps acting like he's in high school, throwing a pencil at you and leaning in to whisper some crude joke about whatever you were learning in class. you have to clamp a hand over your mouth and snicker quietly.

it's like having two class clowns in class, one is clearly trying to do everything he can to get expelled, and the other (you) is still trying to focus on your classes while doing something that has the whole class laughing. and so it becomes a game between danny and you, who's going to outdo each other in class and make each other break first. the challenge would start in a week, and danny wiggled his brows and with a haughty look loudly declared that he was def going to win.

most of the days follow you biting into your knuckles to not laugh out loud, or danny burying his face in his hands, his body shaking as he tries everything he could to not let the giggles out. surprisingly, danny breaks first and it wasn't even in front of the class.

he joined you in the library after he finished playing basketball with his friends. his cap on backwards, his sweat stained shirt dampened just enough so you could see the outlines of his abs. you scoffed, going back to your notes because "playtime was over daniel" but when he took off his shirt and tossed it at you because he knew how you hated the smell of sweat, you rolled your eyes and said "ok whore"

and that made him laugh out loud with wide eyes, "e-excuse me?" he asked, which had you giggling. there's a dark glint in his eyes that you failed to notice, his big grin seemed to mask all his intentions.

that little game you had now transformed into something else. you were still trying to out-do each other, but in a very different way. daniel would purposely roll up the sleeves of his white tee for your friends to ogle at his glistening arms after an intense workout. you'd wear an extremely tight jumpsuit when you offered to bring him his homework in front of his friends. daniel, being impressed, decided to go even further one day and undressed down to his boxers in front of your group of girls when they were loitering behind the bleachers to look at the athletes. he flashed a smile at you, waving innocently despite the unimpressed look you gave him. he was starting to annoy you now, because all your friends could only talk about daniel! daniel's so hot, daniel's so funny, did you see daniel the other day? he had his hands in his curls, i wanna tug his curls when he's-

and your resolve snapped, so you decided to put your entire life into winning this challenge once and for all. it was daniel's birthday and he invited all his friends and even for your friends to his house! you weren't really the type to stay up that late, so he wasn't really expecting you to show up. and then his eyes widen at the sight of you in that red crop top, he could see a glimpse of your underboobs and the tiniest mini-skirt to match. when you bent over, he could see that you weren't wearing panties.

ok whore, he thinks to himself, a massive smirk on his face. you really outdid him tonight.

so when his friends, all drunk out of their minds, decide to get a bit too handsy with you, daniel chuckles and pulls you upstairs to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"ok who won?" he asks, and you pretend to not know what he's talking about.

"won what?"

"our challenge? because im ready to let you be the winner," he throws his hands in the air, taking defeat. you frown, usually daniel was all about winning.

"and why do you want me to be the winner?" you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"because i'm so fucking hard right now, and if my friends even dare touch you, i might fuck you right in front of them," daniel exclaims, glaring at you to even dare think about messing with his friends. he should know you by now, though. you've been best friends for years. and that smirk you had wasn't really convincing him that you'd pass up on his threat.

"i guess you won then, ah fuck, sweetheart," daniel groans as he has you bouncing his cock, facing his friends who are cheering him on. your crop top is torn to shreds on the ground, and daniel's hands roll your nipples, loving the way you whine out loud. he scowls at one of his friends who gets a bit too close for his liking and his hands fall down to grab your hips, bucking his hips harder and faster, "fuck, she's mine, and only mine. she's my fucking slut, nobody touches her except for me."

his words only spur you on, and pretty soon you're cumming around his cock which is still bullying into you at an ungodly pace. you have nothing to hold on to, and your head falls back onto his shoulder as he continues his abuse, "fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so good, fuck i should've done this a long time ago. we were too busy cracking jokes huh?"

you can't even respond because now he's rubbing hard circles on your oversensitive clit, ensuring that you orgasm once more. you shake your head, trying to squirm away but he clicks his tongue, shaking his head mockingly, "ah, ah, ah, baby, you wanted this remember? show my friends how you're gonna milk my cock again, show them how much you love me, show them what my best friend is gifting me for my birthday"

you're screaming as you cum for the second time, and daniel's peppering kisses onto your cheek, reminding you that you still had the entire night to celebrate his birthday AND your win.

[judasofsuburbia]

something something kindergarten teacher! steve who is so tired of going on bad dates. kindergarten teacher! robin who doesn't want him to give up.

“Really? The date went that bad?” Robin asks again. 

“Yes,” Steve drones. “I swear she looked like she’d rather be at the dentist than on a date with me.”

Robin makes a sad face at him. Steve continues to sort the paint jugs and throw out any that have been mixed with other colors. Robin finishes putting toys back into cubbies and sanitizing the fake food. 

“Okay so,” Robin starts. 

Steve immediately holds up a hand. “Don’t say ‘maybe she’s not the one but someone is’. I’m sick of this, Rob. I feel like I’m just better off alone.”

“Not true,” Robin argues. “You’re a catch. You’re attractive and good with kids. You make me laugh so hard my ribs shake. You’re a great listener and you make amazing cocktails. Great helmet of hair. Who wouldn’t want to date that?” 

Steve’s heard it all before. He loves Robin, he does, but it doesn’t seem to matter what she thinks of him because no one in this town wants to make it to date two with him.

He used to be so good at this. Always had a girl on his arm at football games in high school. Always had a date to prom. Always had some girl to make out with at parties. Even when he realized later on in his twenties that he liked boys too, he still couldn’t find one that took his attraction seriously.

Steve Harrington? Like both? Unheard of, apparently. 

Still, Steve didn’t want to start the first day of school on a bad note. “Thanks, Rob. I might need to lick my wounds for a second but I’ll get back on the horse I promise.”

“Good because our marriage pact could be closing soon,” Robin mumbles with a sly smile. 

Steve’s head whips around. “Are you‒”

“I have a ring picked out,” Robin practically squeals. 

Steve does his best to gently set down the paint jugs and rip off his latex gloves before darting across the room to pick Robin up in a twirling hug. He kisses her head repeatedly until she’s groaning, giggling, and shoving him off. 

“Rob, that’s amazing,” Steve breathes. He squeezes her tightly again. 

“You better keep your mouth shut,” Robin warns with a pointed finger. “It’s so hard to surprise Nancy Wheeler but I think I’m finally going to be able to.” 

Steve’s grinning from ear to ear as he mimes zipping his mouth closed. “Secret’s safe with me.”

The alarm on Steve’s phone breaks them out of their little love fest and suddenly the halls are filled with parents, children, and teachers gabbing to high heaven. Robin gives him a salute before crossing over onto her side of the classroom. Technically, there is a foldable partition between the two rooms but it will be a cold day in Hell if Robin and Steve ever actually separate their classrooms. 

Steve goes to stand by his door and greet his new gaggle of students. He high-fives each of them as they walk through the door and points to their assigned cubby and seat.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s looking around the room and sees that two seats are still empty. Dustin and Max Munson. He didn’t see them at parent-teacher night last week but he knows from their file that they’re fraternal twins from a single, widowed dad. He tries to keep an eye out for them but he knows the other kids are getting restless. 

Then he hears, “Oh, Mr. Munson, you’re actually in Steve’s‒sorry, Mr. Harrington’s class. He’s just right across the way.” 

Steve glances across the room and does a double-take. Across the room is the alleged Mr. Munson, this tall, lanky man with curly brown hair that hits his shoulders with a blank bandana tying down the top of his head, big brown eyes, a leather jacket with pins, a white tank top, and coverall sleeves tied at his waist. He’s positively breathtaking. 

Holding either hand are Max and Dustin. A little redhead with a baseball cap, overalls, and a striped shirt. A little brunette curly head with green khaki shorts and a shirt with a dragon on it. Mr. Munson smiles apologetically at Robin and walks across the room to Steve’s. Dustin bolts to his assigned seat and starts talking animatedly to Will Byers who looks a little scared out of his mind but is quickly rescued by Mike Wheeler who is just as excited. Max stays glued to Mr. Munson’s side as he walks up to Steve.

If Steve’s not mistaken, Mr. Munson looks him up and down before speaking. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Mr. Munson says and of course, his voice is pretty too. “This one is a little nervous about being away from her dad.”

Steve draws his eyes away from the strong neck and pale collarbones that poke out from underneath his jacket to the scared girl. He bends down to her level and gives her a soft smile. 

“Are you Max? I’m Mr. Harrington,” Steve says.

Max blinks, inching more and more behind Mr. Munson’s pant leg. 

“School’s kinda scary, huh?” Steve asks. 

Max nods.

“I know I get a little nervous on the first day and I’m the teacher,” Steve admits in a small, dramatic voice. He sees the tiniest sliver of a smile on Max’s face. “I’ve sat you next to Lucas Sinclair,” Steve points to the smiling kid on the other side of the room. Lucas gives a small wave. “He’s a very nice boy and I think he even likes the Bulls,” Steve gestures to Max’s hat. “So, I think you guys will have loads to talk about. We’re gonna have a really fun day, okay? And then you’ll get to tell your dad all about it.”

Max glances timidly around the room again and slowly lets go of her dad’s pant leg. Dustin rushes over and shows Max where her cubby is which detaches her completely. Max sits next to Lucas who does get very excited over her hat. Steve and Mr. Munson watch her relax little by little. 

“Holy sh‒shirt," Mr. Munson coughs and smiles sheepishly. "Wow, uh, you really know how to talk to them. Literally made her a friend within five seconds."

Steve stands and tries to regain composure now that the irresistible dad’s attention is on him. 

“Thanks,” Steve says quietly. “The first day is always a little tricky.”

Mr. Munson holds out his hand and says, “Eddie.”

Steve takes it, feeling a little dizzy over how firm his grip is and the callouses on his hands. “S-Steve. Harrington.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it last week. Last-minute towing emergency for Chief Hopper,” Eddie says, finally dropping Steve’s hand. 

Steve playfully rolls his eyes. “I’ve been telling him for years that he needs to dump that old hunk of junk already. I’m guessing you work for Munson Mechanics?”

Eddie smiles boldly and glances down at his attire. “Yeah, that’s where I get this sick uniform. Very exclusive.”

“I’m jealous,” Steve laughs nervously, trying desperately to keep his eyes on Eddie’s face. But even then, his eyes are so pretty and his smile is so radiant. There’s faint stubble on his upper lip and jaw. Steve wants to run his fingers over it amongst other things.

“Well, I won’t keep you much longer,” Eddie smiles, clapping Steve on his back. “Maybe I’ll get you a free oil change for your trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble‒”

Eddie leans forward a little and squeezes Steve’s shoulder. He whispers, “Or maybe I just want to see you when there are not twenty five-year-olds staring at me.”

From this proximity, Steve can smell his cologne and lingering car oil. He can feel his brain cells dying every second he inhales the intoxicating aroma. Steve breathes shallowly, too aware of the growing blush on his cheeks, and says, “S-sure. I’d like that.”

Eddie smirks and has the audacity to wink before going to each of his kids, ruffling their hair, and kissing them goodbye with a big wet smack on their cheeks. He passes by Steve again and murmurs, “I won’t say goodbye to you like that. Not yet, at least. Good luck with my little gremlins” before walking out the door. 

Steve hears the clunk of his boots echoing down the hall and each step makes his heart beat louder against his ribs.

He dares to look at Robin across the room who is staring at him with a smug grin on her face. She mimics getting on a horse and does a little lasso with her hand. 

Steve adjusts his glasses, clears his throat, and says in his best teacher voice, “Alright friends, who’s ready to start kindergarten?” 

EDIT 2/8: READ THE FULL FIC HERE 🤠

[luveline]

Hii I sent the ask for more kbd could you please write them all going on there first family holiday lovely 🤍🫶🏻

love u <3 kbd au —the harrington’s vacation !! mom!reader, 1.5k

This is a good idea, you repeat to each other for weeks. Paying for the flights, making lists, getting Dove her baby passport, packing the suitcases days in advance. 

Most of the time you agree with one another. The day you buy Avery and Beth little swimsuits Steve can’t stop smiling, and the nights leading up to it are like Christmas for Avery when she remembers (and Beth when Avery tells her). 

But the night before you’re sick to your stomach, and then Steve can’t breathe right at the airport, but you get on your plane, and somehow the girls are good. Dove cries when you land because of the pressure change, but she’s soothed by the time you’re past the gate and into the sunshine. 

“Steve,” you say, Dove strapped to your chest, world's heaviest baby bag on your shoulder, “sweetheart, we’re here.” 

He holds Beth’s hand, who in turn holds Avery’s hand, trying to pull the world’s biggest suitcase behind you without running over his own foot. “I told you it would be easy.” 

Your children look beautiful. Avery wears a sun visor cap and a blue dress with white socks and blue converse, and Bethie wears dungarees and a short sleeve top, little black converse to match her sister but unable to handle the sensory nightmare of a hat. They look ready for the sun, and excited to be somewhere new. 

Dove sleeps on your chest. “Easy isn’t the word I’d use,” you mumble, kissing her forehead. “Okay, what’s the next thing? Are we getting the shuttle?” 

Steve checks his watch quickly. “It’s another ten minutes,” he says. “Is that okay?” He points at your harness. “Digging into your side?”

“It’s fine.” You bend with your arm behind Dove’s back, turning your smile on your sweethearts where they mill around their dad’s legs. “How do you guys feel now? So happy? I’m so happy we’re not on the plane, we can stretch our tired feet!” 

“Yeah, mom!” Avery says. 

“Can we have soda?” Bethie asks. 

And okay, you promised them treats if they behaved on the plane, but you’re on vacation. It’s allowed. 

“Yeah, baby, let’s go find you a coca cola before we get on the big bus!” 

You don’t want to pay seventy cents for one can of coke, let alone three dollars for three, but everything will be free when you get to the resort, so what does it matter? Plus, Bethie really, really enjoys it. She beams at the fizzing and begs you to try it like she’s worried you’re missing out. 

(It matters. You and Steve are raising three kids on one salary. All inclusive vacations are expensive. They all needed new clothes including you and Steve, clothes and haircuts and mini shampoos. But it genuinely won’t matter if they have a good time, and make good memories.) 

“Right,” you say near the shuttle, “Avery, you hold mommy’s hand when we’re outside. Beth, you’ll hold daddy’s. No running, and try to be polite. Deal?” 

Avery twines her fingers through yours, little tiny fingers to your fully grown ones. When she looks up at you, she’s practically a hundred percent Steve, his smile, his lovely demeanour, and his attitude too. “Duh, mom. That’s an easy deal.” 

Steve ends up carrying Beth onto the shuttle, and off of it again at the resort. She’s in his arms from the lobby to the elevators and into your suite, but she wants promptly to be put down when Steve shows your two girls their room. 

“Mom, there’s bears!” She gasps. “It’s Goldilocks!” 

A huge storybook mural covers their walls and parts of their ceilings, their single beds outfitted with gossamer curtains on four posters and princess pink sheets. “There’s a castle!” Avery shouts. 

“You okay?” Steve asks again. 

You’re a little tired from Dove's restlessness the night before, but you’re happy you’re here. You nod without thinking twice about it. 

“Okay.” He pulls you toward him. Careful, he unsnaps the buckles of Dove’s harness, loosening the cords that keep her tight to your body before pulling her out. She grizzles at being moved, and he pats her back deftly to settle her before it becomes a big cry. Then he’s cradling her one handed, loosening the straps of the carrier behind your back and taking it off of you with a kindness that softens you for the thousandth time. “There, that’s better. You look like you can breathe again.” 

Steve puts his hand flat on your chest and rubs a line with his thumb. “That’s a nice smile,” he adds. 

Okay, you think. Goner, total goner, you cover his hand with yours. From the girls’ bedroom you can hear the squeal of bed springs being jumped on and the zipper on someone’s mini backpack. “Can we have fruit snacks?” Avery shouts. 

Steve’s hand moves to your neck, your face. He rubs your jawline with the tip of his thumb. “Do they have fruit snacks at the buffet?” 

“They promised they’d have everything at the buffet.” 

You sound exuberant. You are. It’s nice to be touched sweetly, and to be somewhere cool. This is the life you’d dreamed of making with him, and at the same time, you never could’ve summoned this image of him. 

You can’t wait for him to take his shirt off by the pool. You’re gonna take a whole disposable’s worth of photos. 

“You have nice arms,” you say, feigning absentmindedness.

“Thank you.” He’s looking at you funny. It reminds you of when you first started dating, he’d get these weird moments of smiling and not telling you what it is that’s so funny, which would always inspire insecurity, but has since been explained to be awe rather than disdain. He pulls Dove closer to his neck and more toward his side, offering his empty arm to you for a hug. “You have nice everything,” he says, kissing you quickly on the temple. 

“We’re actually on vacation.” 

It always seemed too daunting. The more kids you had, the scarier it seemed. But one day Avery must’ve seen a commercial on TV or heard it from one of the little girls at the park, and she’d strolled up to you to ask you about vacations and the beach and aeroplanes. You’d taken her and Beth to Lake Michigan a bunch of times, but nothing feels quite like this. 

“Let’s hope it really feels like one,” Steve says. 

“Especially for you,” you say. 

Stay at home dad-ing is exhausting. You can’t imagine he wants to be the one in charge here too. You’re determined to pull your weight, even if he isn’t keen to let you, plans for secret lie-ins and well-researched playtime clubs at the resorts recreation centres. You’re not delusional, you know you can’t do this without him. Or perhaps you could, but you’d enjoy yourself a lot less. Either way, you’re wanting to have fun too, so he can take Dove from you and wrap his arm around you like he’s the one in charge for now. It feels nice to be doted on, better when he starts his fretting. 

“Do you want to get changed before we take them down for dinner?” He backs away enough to see your face but not too much as to steal the warmth of his chest where it kisses your arm. “Showers? You need something to drink. Where’s the mini fridge?” 

“Remember what we talked about?” you broach carefully. You have no intentions of patronising him, but it’s unfortunate he’s forgotten already. “Relax, honey. That’s what we said we were gonna do this week. You don’t have to make sure everyone is one hundred percent all the time. If I need something, I’ll tell you.”

“What sort of marriage do you think this is?” he asks, smiling playfully, his warm eyes betraying how happy he is even through his worry and facade.

“One where you kiss me like you miss me all the time,” you say. 

“Oh, is that so?” He ducks down and aligns your lips, the corded muscle of his arm lean where it presses to your softer back. “What do you do?” 

“Kiss back.” 

He laughs into your lips, a smile pressed firmly to a smile. 

“Daddy, can you help me ‘i my shoes?” Bethie asks. 

Steve breathes in deep as you part, hugging you tight to his side. “Where are you gonna go without shoes?” he asks her, genuinely curious. 

“To bed.” 

“You want a nap?” 

Bethie nods tiredly. “Planes are hard.” 

“Yeah, bub, planes are tough. You don’t wanna go have dinner first?” 

She shakes her head tiredly. It’s the first hurdle of your vacation, but it’s not a terribly hard one to navigate. 

“There’s gotta be some sort of snack in the fridge, right?” he asks. 

Family nap time commences just as soon as Avery’s eaten her fill of mini sandwiches. You sleep like a baby under Steve’s arm, at least until the real baby rouses for another bottle. 

[catssluvr]

Hello I’m not sure where you wanted requests at so I’m Just going to do it here! Can you write a fic where reader is secretly in love w Emily and one day decides to wear a more revealing outfit (maybe like tighter to show off curves?) and notices that Emily is looking at her more often and when Emily confesses her feelings to reader, reader feels like she only did it for her body because r has been used for her body before and then Emily like states all the cute things r does and why she fell in love with her. Sorry it’s not very detailed or doesn’t make sense😓

tysm for requesting luv 💌 i added a few things, hope that's okay!! sorry for taking a bit <3

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, emily prentiss

emily prentiss x fem!reader

emily confesses to you on a night out and what you believe to be the reason behind it makes you insecure.

warnings: insecurities, jealously, derek being flirty asf (platonically <3)

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

You take one last glance at yourself on the reflection of the car window. A black mini skirt that feels like it barely covers your thighs, tight burgundy cap sleeved top with a low cut and a bit more of makeup than usual. It's a bit more extra than what you're used to. After all, you work at the bau so the usual is either a suit or jeans and a sweater.

You can't help but feel a bit reluctant now that you're standing right outside the bar. You feel pretty, it's definitely nice to dress up once in a while. But in the back of your mind, you know you also want Emily to think you look pretty. The choice of color of your top might have been because you know it's one of her favorites.

You've had a little crush on her ever since she joined the team. Which was a good while ago so you don't think you can really consider it just a little crush anymore. You catch yourself looking at her way more than you'd like to admit. It's really hard not to look when she always looks so good.

But it's just a night out after all, everyone is going to be dressed up. You don't expect anything to happen, just to have enough drinks to make you tipsy but not too drunk because unfortunately work calls for you in the morning.

With a breathy sigh, you push the door open. Your gaze catches them immediately, sitting in a table in the middle of the bar with drinks in hand. Emily sees you first, waving you over to them.

"Hi! Oh- you look amazing, angel!" Penelope is the first one to throw a compliment that comes with a bright smile.

"Yeah, i really love your shirt. Nice color." JJ adds teasingly. She's known about your feelings for Emily for as long as they exist. And she obviously doesn't miss one single opportunity to tease you about it.

"Thank you, guys." You take the empty seat between Pen and Emily, your cheeks turning pink once you feel the raven haired eyeing you.

"You should wear that color more often, JJ is right." Emily states, only loud enough for you to hear while the other two girls start chattering about something you can't quite focus on. Not when she's leaning slightly towards you so you can hear properly over the music, the only thing you can actually focus on is her lips that are covered in pink lipstick.

"Oh- Thank you, Em-" Before you can say anything else, or better, stutter out something else, you're interrupted by Derek.

"Well hello, hot stuff." He hands you on of the two drinks on his hands, playfully checking you out. "Looking good today, uh?" He chuckles, pulling a nearby chair and squeezing between you and Emily. You almost scowl at him for interrupting whatever was happening before.

"Yeah, don't get too excited." You play along, not the slightest bit surprised by his flirty antics. You fail to notice the way Emily's shoulders slump at the interaction.

"Can't help it, pretty girls are like magnets to me." You roll your eyes but chuckle once again, he does have quite a way to cheer people up.

Conversation and laughter fill the table soon after, all of you enjoying the rare night out. After all, it's not all the time you get to all be together to talk about something that isn't work.

You notice Emily seems awfully quiet today, barely exchanging words with anyone after your conversation was interrupted by Derek, keeping herself busy with the drink in her hands. You try to gather the courage to small talk with her, but everytime you glance at her, she's in fact already looking at you. And you can't help but feel too embarrassed to actually say anything. Besides, with Morgan sitting between you two you can't really talk to her without getting teased in a not so merciful way. He's also very aware of your pining over eachother. You're pretty sure everyone's aware of it by now. Only making it worse for your embarrassment.

"So, does the pretty girl dance?" Derek asks once he notices you're done with your drink

"Don't you have like loads of other girls in this bar for that?" You retort. You don't exactly feel nice for wanting to dismiss him somewhere so you can talk to Emily, but you really are starting to get worried.

"Sure, but i have the prettiest one of them right here." He insists, not resisting to laugh at his own horrible attempt to fake flirt. You sense he's got something up his sleeve but decide not to question it.

You look at her once more, frowning at the way she looks at the glass in front her, not acknowledging your gaze this time.

"Sure." You sigh, giving in rather quickly. You just didn't want to have the face the awkward silence that would settle between you and Emily if he left. Worst part is you don't have a clue to why she would be upset.

Derek drags you away from the table as soon as the answer leaves your lips. He twirls you once you reach where there's other people dancing, a surprised gasp leaving you before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Meanwhile Emily sits at the table with an almost sad frown on her face. This was supposed to be the day she was going to confess her feelings to you, but Derek was rather quick to ruin it. She doesn't remember how long she's been waiting to do it. And now she's pretty sure she's closer to losing her chance with you. You're perfect, it's just a matter of time until someone else realizes it and steals away her chance.

She watched the way he holds your waist and can't help but feel jealous, wishing it was her in his place. Emily knows you're merely friends but she envies the way he can flirt with you so easily without turning into an absolute mess. The most she got herself to do was compliment the color of your shirt. It's not usual to see you dressed up and she wish she could have the courage to tell you how pretty she thinks you look. Not just today, but every other day.

"You're drooling." JJ chuckles but only receives a cold glare in return. Emily can't actually focus on how pretty you look when there's someone else touching your waist and dancing with you. She is looking, nevertheless.

"You know he's doing it on purpose, right?" JJ asks with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Emily finally looks at the blonde girl beside her.

"He's just flirting with her to get on your nerves. Thought you were a good profiler, Em."

"Why would he do that?" The raven haired asks with furrowed brows.

"Maybe cause you're both idiots who don't realize you're in love with eachother. Jesus, everyone else knows but you at the point." JJ answers easily, as if she'd been wanting to say it for a while.

"I know i do, it's not a secret. But i'm pretty sure she's not interested, she would've say something if she was. If anything, she thinks i'm creep for looking so much tonight." Emily gulps down her drink, trying to act the least bothered possible. She is in fact very bothered, it's eating her up that she hasn't had the courage to approach you the whole night.

"It's not like you say anything either." She retorts before adding, "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to try asking her out."

Emily hums in response, not really sure what to think of JJ's suggestion. It is true that she can't be sure about your feelings towards you, but she doesn't think she can be more obvious with her own feelings.

Then again, she could at least try for once before it gets too late. Just maybe not tonight, she thinks as she sees you now sitting by the stools drowning down the second shot with Penelope.

She gives you and Garcia a ride home later that night. Occasionally looking over at you in the passenger seat, deciding what would be the best way to ask you out. It can't get past tomorrow, that's the only thing she's sure about.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

You let out a frustrated sigh as you reach for some paper towel, cleaning the spilled coffee on the counter. Everything seems to be going incredibly bad today. You woke up with a bigger hungover than you had intended to, resulting in a bad mood that worsened once you started thinking about the previous night.

You don't mind Emily looking at you. In fact, you wish she would look only at you forever. The biggest highlight of the whole night was probably when she told you about how good you look in red. You had flushed red quite a few times once you realized she had her eyes on you for most of the night.

But overthinking got the best of you, as usual. It started to feel weird that she would look at you specifically yesterday, the day you decided to dress up. You know it's bad to jump into conclusions, but it's the only thing you can think about. Your stomach turns at the thought of it, disappointment creeping over you. Why wouldn't she want to look at you in any other day?

"Hey, everything okay?" Emily walks into the kitchenet with a small smile on her.

"Yeah. Just spilled some coffee, Em." You murmur, avoiding her gaze at any cost. You move to leave but she's quicker to speak up.

"Do you- i was hoping to ask you something." She says, fingers nervously fidgeting with her blazer.

"Sure, what is it?" You turn back to her, trying to hold yourself together.

"Would you like go grab some food after work?" She asks tentatively.

Your stomach drops, a million of thoughts running through your head. You want to say yes, desperately. But you don't want to end up getting hurt either.

"As a date." She adds quickly. It doesn't help at all that she's looking at you so hopefully.

"I like you, i really do. But maybe it's not a great idea. I mean, i know i usually don't wear clothes like that but i wasn't expecting you to be interested in me just because of it and-" You stop yourself from rambling on.

"What? That's not why i'm asking you out." Emily looks more confused than ever, mouth open in surprise.

"You don't have to say that." You mumble, growing nervous under her gaze.

"It's the truth. I'm asking you out because i've been in love with you pretty much since the day i started working at the bau." She admits, way more straight forward than intended. But it hurt her to know you'd think that of her. "And i do think you're pretty, the prettiest actually. But i could list out a hundred other reason to why i love you that are way more important than that."

"Em..." You cam feeling yourself starting to grow hot. It was indeed a bad idea to just into conclusions, you know she isn't like that.

"No, wait. In fact, i will list it out." She adds while reaching for your already clammy hand. "I love the way you were the only one to support me since day one, i love it when you fall asleep on my shoulder after a case because you feel safe enough to do it, i love how you bring me coffee in the morning almost everyday without expecting anything in return and i love how you're the most caring person i've ever met. I love you for you, not your body. And i was trying to find the courage to ask you out yesterday, i'm sorry if i made you feel that way." She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, an incredibly heavy weight being lifted off her shoulders.

"Is that date offer still up?" You ask with a breathy laugh, feeling stupid for it the second after. You expected anything but a love confession today. It was the first question that came to mind.

"Of course." She answers gently with a chuckle, thumb rubbing against your hand just as gently.

"Em?" You say slightly above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"I love you too." You can't hide the smile (neither does she) that forms on your lips, pressing a smiley kiss on the corner of her lips.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

love you,

cat 🤍

[corroded-hellfire]

Inked - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie loves the doodles from his favorite girls so much that he gets them permanently etched on his skin.

Note: Dad!eddie, mom!reader

Words: 1.8k

“I can’t study anymore,” you whine, dropping your head down on your kitchen table. 

Eddie watches you with an adoring smile on his face. He slides his hand over and snatches up the pen you were taking your notes with. A tapping on the back of your hair has you picking up your head and looking at your boyfriend.

“Take a break,” Eddie says, offering the pen to you. “Do a little doodling.”

“I don’t wanna mess up my notes,” you say with the most adorable pout Eddie���s ever seen. 

“On me,” he answers. He flips his arm over so you can draw on the inside of his right wrist.

“I dunno what to draw,” you tell him.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You wrinkle your nose in concentration, practically making Eddie fall in love with you all over again. Sometimes he feels like he has to restrain himself from telling you just how much you mean to him. He’s afraid he’ll scare you off if he tells you that he’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let him. 

An idea finally comes to you, and you hold his arm steady with one hand, and put the pen to his skin with the other. Your brow pinches in concentration as you drag the tip along to make the design. Eddie decides not to look until you’re finished, wanting to be surprised by your completed masterpiece. 

“Am I hurting you?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“Not at all.” 

“Almost done!”

“Take your time, baby.”

“Tada!” You lean back and put the cap on the pen. Eddie raises his wrist up to inspect your artwork. He grins at the little stick figure kitty cat you’ve drawn. 

“He’s perfect,” he tells you.

“She,” you insist. “She’s a female cat.”

“My apologies. She’s perfect,” Eddie corrects. 

“Thank you very much,” you say, pulling your textbook closer towards you, ready to study again. 

Between work and a family member’s wedding, you don’t get to see Eddie over the weekend. When he picks you up for school on Monday morning, he has a bright beaming smile on his face.

“Someone looks happy,” you say as you click your seatbelt into place. “You know we’re going to school, right?”

Eddie’s too excited, he can’t even find the words. So instead, he tugs up the sleeve of his leather jacket and shows you the inside of his wrist. At first you don’t understand what’s got him so worked up. It’s just the cat that you drew on him a few days ago, what’s the big deal? But you pick up on how the drawing doesn’t look the least bit faded after all this time. In fact, it looks a bit darker. The skin around the outline of the cat also looks raised and red. You suck in a harsh gasp as your eyes widen in realization.

“You got it tattooed on you?!” The pitch of your voice rings in Eddie’s ears and he lets out a chuckle.

“I did. Now I can look at my baby’s artwork anytime I want to.”

You want to tell him how absurd it is that he did this, that he might regret it later on. But you’re too overwhelmed by the fact that he got your cartoon permanently inked on his body. It’s not even anything meaningful, just a silly little cat. But to him, it was important enough to keep forever. Your eyes mist over, and you shake your head. 

“You don’t like it?” Eddie asks, his heart plummeting.

“Eds, I love it. I just can’t believe you’d do this for something I drew on you.” 

“There’s nothing I’d rather have on me,” he says. 

You unhook your seatbelt and launch yourself across the van at him. He laughs as he catches you, settling you in his lap as best he can. 

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his neck.

“I love you too, baby.” He tilts your chin up and presses his lips against yours. “Purr-ever.”

You wrinkle up your nose at the pun and shake your head. “No, we’re gonna have to come up with a name for this little feline. I will not stand for awful puns about her.”

Eddie laughs and nods his head in agreement. 

“We can do that.”

Ten years later, it’s a rainy Monday and Eddie’s trying to keep your four-year-old daughter entertained until you come home from work in a few hours. So far, they’ve played Barbies, Go Fish, and even watched The Little Mermaid twice. All after her day of preschool. 

Bailey’s now itching for another activity to amuse her and stumbles upon the box of crafts in her room. 

“Ooh, Daddy!” She shouts, even though he’s right behind her. “Can we color?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

He helps her carry the coloring books, crayons, and markers to the kitchen table. She spreads them all out, needing to see every last thing before she decides what she wants to work on. Settling on a Minnie Mouse coloring book, Bailey situates herself in her chair to get as comfortable as possible. Eddie selects a coloring book full of fairytales because he knows there are a few creatures in that one who remind him of D&D monsters. Father and daughter color in silence for a while, only the occasional hum of approval coming from either of them. Eddie glances over to see Bailey’s nose wrinkled up as she concentrates and her small tongue poking out of her pink lips. Traits she inherited from each of you right there on display. 

“Done!” Bailey announces once she’s finished her rendering of Minnie in a purple polka dot dress. Eddie looks over at it and nods appreciatively. 

“That’s real pretty, princess.”

Bailey flips through the pages but huffs when she can’t find another one that she wants to color. Eddie notices her impatience and quirks an eyebrow at her.

“What is it, rugrat?”

“Dunno what I wanna color,” she says, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped up on the kitchen table. Eddie decides to let her figure it out on her own, wanting her to be able to make her own decisions. He goes back to coloring his picture of a fairy, but before long he feels a poking at his arm. Turning his head, he sees Bailey giving him an adorable grin—the one she uses when she wants something. 

“May I help you?” he asks. 

“Can I color on you?” Bailey asks, eyeing the pale expanse of Eddie’s left arm that his Iron Maiden t-shirt leaves uncovered. 

“I guess so.” Eddie caps his marker and holds his arm out to his little girl. Bailey grabs a lime green marker and holds it above the skin on the side of his elbow. She stares, little brows furrowing together.

“Dunno what to draw.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Bailey thinks a few moments longer before lowering the marker, letting the green ink stain her father's skin. Eddie hears the front door of the apartment open and a giddy smile spreads on his face, excited to see you even though it’s only been a few hours. He can hardly wait as he hears you taking your shoes off and setting your things down. When you walk into the kitchen, you chuckle at the sight in front of you.

“What’s going on here?” you ask.

“Hi, Mommy,” Bailey says, not taking her eyes off of her creation.

“A little artist is at work,” Eddie says, holding his right arm out for you. You take his hand, and he presses kisses across your knuckles. 

“Tada!” Bailey leans back and puts the cap back on the marker. Eddie turns to see a bright green smiley face on the side of his arm, one eye bigger than the other, and squiggly lines coming from the top of its head. 

“It’s lovely,” Eddie says, grinning at his daughter.

“He’s lovely,” you correct him, knocking your hip against him playfully. “I love the squiggles on his head.”

“That’s his hair! It’s like Daddy’s!”

Now that she says it, the green spirals do resemble Eddie’s curls. 

“I love it, princess,” he tells her. There’s a proud smile on her face as she leans up and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

When you and Eddie are getting ready for bed that night, you chuckle when he takes his shirt off, giving you a better view of the green art. 

“Don’t be laughing at my new ink,” Eddie teases. “Best tattoo artist I ever had.”

“Oh, really?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“Okay, it’s a tie,” Eddie relents. He turns his arm so he can get a better look at his little Picasso’s work. “Think I’ll get this inked too.” The way he smiles so fondly at the marker design gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling. 

“She’d love that,” you say as you pull down the blankets on your bed. 

“Don’t be jealous,” Eddie says as he climbs in on the other side. “Dinah is still my favorite.” Your husband holds up his wrist to you, showing off the stick figure cat you drew back in high school. “Favorite tattoo, that is. She’s my second favorite pussy.”

Eddie barks out a laugh as you lean over and swat at him.

The next day, Eddie waits anxiously outside of Bailey’s preschool classroom. Kids could be blunt and would tell you if they didn’t like something. What if Bailey wasn’t happy he got her drawing tattooed on him? Would she understand the emotion and sentiment behind it? Eddie doesn’t have time to think about it before the door opens and a dozen munchkins are swarming around, trying to find their parents. 

“Daddy!”

“Bailey!”

She runs to him, arms raised, and he gladly snatches her up and holds her on his hip.

“How was school, princess?”

“Was good,” she answers.

He starts to walk out of the school with her, and when he gets out into the parking lot, he jostles her a little in his arms.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Okay.”

Eddie sets her down so she’s sitting on the trunk of the car and turns so she can better see his left arm. He tugs his sleeve up a little to give her a better view. Bailey grabs his arm in both of her small hands, making Eddie wince when she gets too close to the still-sensitive area. 

“I drew that,” Bailey points out. 

“You did,” Eddie says. “And this morning I got it tattooed on me.”

Bailey gasps and holds his arm even tighter. 

“You did?! My drawing is your tattoo? Forever?”

Eddie can’t help but chuckle at how awed she sounds. 

“Yeah, princess. Forever.” He turns to face her again and moves some of her unruly hair out of her eyes. “That’s how long I’m going to love you, too. Forever.”

“It looks cool, Daddy.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Cooler than Dinah the cat.”

Eddie laughs.

“Don’t tell Mommy.”

[keerysfreckles]

OKAY BUUT IF ITS NOT TO MUCH CAN U DO A LUKE CASTELLAN X APOLLO READER AND LIKE IF U EVER HEARD pure as the driven snow (hunger games song) I CAN TOTALLY SEE APOLLO READER SINGING THIS TO HIM INFRONT OF PEOPLE

(Sorry for typing in caps I got excited 😰 but it’s okay if u don’t this request 🫶🫶🫶)

mamma mia — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: i did twist this request only with the song, i used lay all your love on me by abba :) i hope you still like it!

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

saturday's were y/n's favorite day. not only because it was a free day throughout the whole camp, but also because of the apollo singalong at the bonfire.

every weekend a camper or two from apollo's cabin would take turns performing to start off the night. this weekend it was y/n's turn.

herself, and her two closest friends from the cabin were all getting ready. abigail, a tall brunette, was wearing a blue and purple 70s inspired jumpsuit. they were flared at the bottom of the legs and elbows of the sleeves. she finished the look with her hair straightened with a matching purple scarf acting as a headband.

stephanie, a shorter blonde, was wearing a green and silver two piece 70s set. it was a halter styled top, paired with bell bottom pants. she wore the same white boots abigail had, and had her platinum blonde hair in a ponytail, with her bangs covering her forehead.

stephanie and abigail were currently setting up their mini stage for their performance. the other campers were starting to file in the area, filling the empty seats of the amphitheatre fairly quickly. stephanie noticed hermes' cabin was front and center. both girls knew y/n would love the fact her boyfriend was right in front of the stage.

abigail and stephanie finished setting the stage, and went to get y/n from the cabin as chiron and mr. d started to announce tonight's events.

"will you hurry up? lover boy is out there waiting," stephanie walks into the cabin, before looking over her outfit once more in the mirror.

"what steph means to say, is the stage is set, and camp is waiting for you," abigail stands behind y/n at the shared vanity, and places her hands on her shoulders.

y/n continues fiddling with her hair, which was teased slightly, with a white headband, with a few front pieces framing her face. she had a similar 70s inspired outfit like abigails. hers was pink and orange, and the top was cropped. her bottoms were the same colors and they had five layers of ruffles adorning the bottom. of course, she had matching white boots just like her sisters.

"what if i mess up?" y/n asks no one in particular.

abigail continues rubbing her shoulders, "you've never messed up one of our performances, why is this one so different?"

y/n shrugs, "maybe the fact luke and i are dating now? and i guess i still want to impress him."

"he's impressed with anything you do," stephanie speaks up from the other side of the cabin, "this can just be another thing he brags about to his friends. how cool his girlfriend, and her friends, are."

y/n stands from the vanity, and simply holds her arms out, "group hug before we go out there."

stephanie and abigail happily oblige before the trio start walking towards the amphitheatre. the three girls grab their matching white microphones and get into their very stereotypical stances on stage, just as chiron finishes his speech.

the music starts, which makes all the campers quit their side conversations.

abigail, y/n and stephanie who were in a line, were now in a triangle, as abigail starts singing.

"i wasn't jealous before we met. now every woman i see is a potential threat. and i'm possessive it isn't nice. you've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice."

abigail continues to sing the second verse, when y/n takes the center of the stage as abigail and stephanie stand behind her.

"don't go wasting your emotion, lay all your love on me."

as soon as y/n met luke's eyes as she sang her line, she could've sworn she saw hearts in his eyes.

stephanie sang the next two verses, as y/n and abigail had choreography while they were behind the blonde.

y/n moved to the middle again, and the trio all began dancing with the same choreography. she started singing thr chorus again.

"don't go wasting your emotion, lay all your love on me. don't go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me."

the campers had started clapping along and moving to the rhythm of the song, as the girls on stage sang another verse and the chorus a few more times.

as the song came to a close, y/n brought both of her friends into a hug, before chiron instructed for the ares cabin to gather the firewood for the bonfire.

y/n was talking with abigail and stephanie on stage, and shrieked when she felt a pair of arms pick her up and spin her around. her feet land on the marble ground instead of the stage. she turns in the stranger's arms and her smile grows once she sees luke.

"you look like you walked right out of an abba music video," he laughs.

"that was kinda the point babe," she leans up and kisses his cheek. "did you like the song?"

luke nods quickly, "you all were amazing, but you," he paused to kiss y/n's forehead, "i couldn't keep my eyes of you."

"it was meant for you, if you couldn't put that together," y/n giggles.

"oh i was hoping it was meant for me. if it was for any other camper i wouldn't hesitate to share a few words with you missy," he tries to sound affirmative with y/n, but it only makes the girl laugh more. the couple and the rest of the campers who were standing were all instructed to sit by chiron, as the ares' kids all came back with firewood.

luke kissed y/n's cheek once more before he dragged her to sit with him for the rest of the night.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: He is a baby, we know it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You were married with a bouquet of sunflowers. Your mother hated them. You didn’t care. Nothing about your wedding was typical or traditional. Just in the backyard with a belly full of Josephine already growing. 

You have a similar bunch of yellow petals in hand that day. As you come to the headstone, you see a bottle cap on the corner. Joey must have come before she left town and had a soda with dad, like old times. You lay the flowers down and groan as you lower yourself to the grass. 

“Hey honey,” you rub your hips, “ugh, getting old sucks.” You sigh and stare at the letters of your husband’s name. “Wish you were around to realise that.” 

You laugh sardonically as a tingle of tears threatens behind your eyes. You sniff but don’t let them free. You still cry for him but now isn’t the time. It was easier to let it all out when he was around to make you laugh. 

“So, did Joey tell you everything? She always gave you more secrets than me. Did she tell you about the girl? Of course she did,” you tut and shake your head. “She won’t even tell me her name.” You look down and twist the blades of grass together. “You would be proud. I know you are. She’s going to be a lawyer.” 

You quiet and let the silence mull. You flick the tips of the green blades and let out another heave. You don’t want to ruin the visit by talking about work. 

“You remember when she decided to show up? I didn’t even know my water broke and you went and slipped in it...” you pause and touch your eyes. Stop. “And the grocery store thought you were going to sue.”

You cackle through the wall of tears, threatening to topple. I had to drive to the hospital because you couldn’t sit or stand straight.” You click your tongue as you remember, “but you were there. You say in that wheel chair and shared my pain. And my joy.” 

Your cheeks wet and you curse your heart. 

“She’s a great girl. No, a great woman. I love her so much,” you mop your face with your sleeves. “I love you.” 

A breeze stirs and ruffles the long petals of the sunflowers. You stare at the brown centres. You’re back standing in the backyard, his hand around yours... Then it’s gone and you’re back in the dirt. 

You sit a little longer. The first year after the funeral, you didn’t come back. You couldn’t. Then it got easier. It was a comfort, not a fear.  

“Well, you know, I'll be back. I always needed you around to keep me accountable, huh,” you get to your knees and your lower back buckles. “I wish you were here to tease me and call me old. My back.” 

You stand and stretch. You touch a kiss to your fingers and touch the headstone. “See ya round, stud.” 

You take your time leaving. The cemetery is beautiful, contrary to its purpose. The grass is green and well kempt, the stones are lined up perfectly, and the paved walkways wind through like a fairytale road. 

You come to the gates and feel the void return. Right there in your chest. You exhale and face the world. Alone. 

You dig in your purse, looking down as you fight to untangle your keys from the cheap wired earbuds you use for your walks. You lift your chin as you come up to your car and stop short. You barely keep a frown from creasing your face. 

Nick leans on your car, arms crossed, watching your approach. How did he find you? Maybe you should have checked your phone. 

“I called,” he says. 

“Sorry, sir, I was busy,” you shrug. He doesn’t seem impressed as his cheeks dimple. 

“Your contract is on-call,” he insists. 

You take another breath. Why is he here? You don’t get how he found you. Well, didn’t he say that’s part of his job? He can know everything if he wants. 

“You dismissed me, sir, so I thought--” 

“I didn’t fire you. I was out of town,” he pushes his shoulders wider. 

“Understood. I’ll go right over--” 

“Did I ask you to?” He unfolds one arm and shows his palm. 

You shake your head. He’s still in a mood. You’ll let him get it out. You do not good assuming his intentions. 

“So, who were we visiting?” He asks. You wince. 

“Sir,” you answer bluntly. 

He huffs, “fine. Doesn’t matter. I don’t got time to argue with a maid.” 

So why are you here? The retort is bitter as it stays on your tongue. You’re not easily flustered, you do your best not to get annoyed, but he’s managed to tweak your nerves. 

“I have a thing. Need a suit.” 

“I brought clean ones the other day, sir--” 

“New suit. It’s work. Big guys are gonna be there.” 

You don’t mention that his last ‘work event’ unfolded like a frat party. It’s not use arguing. You just need to do your job and then you can go home. Just be grateful you aren’t sprucing up your resume. 

“Right. Where would--” 

“There’s a place down the block. You have an eye for detail.” He interject. 

“Oh, okay, sir. I’ll go get you a suit--” 

“You’ll come with me,” he stands straight, dropping his arms. 

“Yes, sir,” you shove your keys back in your purse. 

He stares at you for a moment before he moves. He pivots on one sole and you follow after him. He keeps a lazy pace so you catch up. You walk in silence. 

You glimpse the tailor’s shop. The windows display a group of mannequins dressed in varying states of  work casual to formal. A particularly svelte female form wears a satiny silver gown with a slit to the thigh. 

He steps ahead of you and opens the door. He waits for you to go ahead of him. As he follows, you feel a brush against you and quickly move out of his way. A man with a groomed mustache greets you from behind the counter. 

“Sir, Madame,” he sweeps around in a three-piece suit, the vest cute in elaborate floral, “how can I help you today?” 

“A suit. Work dinner. Black tie.” Nick states. 

“Of course, short notice?” The man asks. 

“Tonight.” 

“Ah, we can meet that deadline, for a fee.” 

“I’m not worried about cost,” Nick turns and browses the mannequin nearest him. “And my date will need something to wear.” 

You stand as you are, glancing around in disinterest. As you turn back, you find the tailor staring at you. Nick continues to peruse the selection. 

“Who’s your date, sir?” You ask, thinking it might be the woman from the other morning. 

His brows arch as he looks at you, “she’ll need her measurements.” He flicks his fingers in a lazy point. You blink and shake your head. You? 

“Of course, madame, would you prefer the privacy of a fitting room?” 

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need all that,” you insist. “I have dresses at home.” Buried somewhere in your closet. 

“You do,” Nick insists as he feels a brocade jacket between his thumb and index. 

“Um,” you peer around. You can’t afford any of this. “I could give you my size,” you offer the man. 

“Go with him.” Nick commands, “stop trying to control everything.” 

“Sir?” You look at him in desperate confusion, “I could call that woman--” 

“I don’t need some ditzy barbie, I need someone with maturity,” he sniffs. 

Ah. That’s it. No, that’s not it. It doesn’t make sense. Mature? Sure, but a bit over the hill. 

“Go,” he snips. 

You don’t chance another act of resistance. It’s not in your contract but you’re not worried about the terms and conditions in that moment. You’re worried about a paycheck and keeping your daughter in college. You can’t let her down. Or your husband. 

You follow the man around the counter as he takes you the women’s section. He walks you along a rack and stops to consider you. He smiles and curls the tip of his mustache. 

“You have beautiful colouring,” he praises. That’s sweet. You’re sure he can’t think of anything else to compliment. You’re not built like one of his dress forms. “A plum would look marvelous.” 

He turns and reaches to pull a swath of fabric forward, the hangers clacking together. He shows you the chiffon eagerly. You examine it with dread. It will show all your lumps and bumps. 

“Do you have anything... thicker? Stiffer?” You wonder. “I do like that colour.” 

Are you really going along with this? You glance over your shoulder as the tailor searches the rack. Nick’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head. You stare back for just a moment before he turns to look at his reflection and tug on the lapels of the shiny blue jacket. 

You know what he’s doing. He’s making a point. You overstepped in some way and he’s putting you in your place. He’s showing you that he can make your job harder. He can make you work. Any way he wishes. And he knows, you need the job. 

You understand all the questions now. He was getting leverage. He was doing reconnaissance. 

This will be a lesson. A reminder for you. After tonight, you will know you are just the maid. You will know where you belong. A worn out old woman sweeping in the shadows. 

“Madame, it is velvet,” the tailor draws your attention back to him as he shows you the gown. You can’t see much of the detail but the fabric will bolster you better. 

“I’ll try it,” you agree. 

“Bonne,” he remarks in French. He is an eccentric character. 

He leads you around to the fitting rooms. He hangs the dress for you and steps out to let you shut yourself in. You can’t remember the last time you went dress shopping. There’s not need for it. 

You figure out how to step into the dress. It’s tea length, just above your ankles. You don’t mind the length but oh, the top. You’re about to spill right out. The deep vee shows quite a bit of cleavage, the small strap holding it together rather precarious as your tits swell out. And the back is almost entirely exposed. 

“Madame, are you well?” The tailor calls through. 

“Uh, I think a different neckline--” 

“Get out here,” Nick demands curtly. 

You cringe and look at your reflection. Jesus. This is the lesson here. The humiliation. You are beneath him. 

You face the door and steel yourself. You push back the latch and ease open the door. You step out, keeping your chin set and your gaze distant. 

“Oh, madame, that is wonderful on your figure,” the tailor steps forward, “and it fits you...” he gives a smooch to his fingers. “Look at the hips, sir.” 

Your cheeks burn and you dare to look at Nick. You’re mortified to find him staring back, exactly where the tailor emphasizes your curves. His brows draw up thoughtfully and he tilts his head. You want to cover the vee down your chest as his gaze creeps up. 

“Hm,” Nick hums. “put it on the bill.” 

[darksturnz]

DRAWINGS AND APOLOGIES

CONTENTS:・soft angst/fluff-heavy plot (??) ・star!reader ・mild language ・some fruity activity・artist!chris ・bambi!madison + more WC: 2.1K (not proof read)

play this song. on repeat !

The faint smell of nail polish filled Madison’s living room, the kind of chemical sweetness that mixed oddly well with the lavender candle flickering on the coffee table. Star sat cross-legged on the floor, her hoodie sleeves pushed up as she tried to carefully paint Madison’s nails a deep plum color. Comet, however, had other plans. The fluffy cat had sprawled across Madison’s lap, purring loud enough to rival the ambient playlist humming in the background.

“Hold still,” Star muttered, furrowing her brows as she hovered the brush over Madison’s thumb.

“I would if your son wasn’t crushing me,” Madison teased, scratching Comet’s chin.

Star rolled her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t love the chunks”

Madison grinned, holding up her hand for inspection. “seriously, not to body shame but he’s huge now! He wasn’t this big in that picture you posted.”

Star snorted. “Yeah, he’s been eating like a starved Victorian child who just discovered McDonald’s for the first time.” She capped the polish and leaned back against the couch. “And he’s been rotting in bed with me all day. We’re both a little pathetic.”

The comment came out casually, but Madison’s eyes flicked up, watching Star closely. “Rotting, huh?” she asked, keeping her voice light. “Very Girl, Interrupted of you.”

Star snorted and shrugged, fiddling with the bottle of nail polish. “I’m very Winona Ryder, we know this already. Life’s just been… a lot, I guess.”

Madison shifted slightly, gently moving Comet off her lap and onto the couch beside her. “What’s been a lot?” she asked, dipping her fingers into the nail polish remover as if she wasn’t paying too much attention.

Star hesitated, the words stuck in her throat. But Madison’s quiet presence, her calm patience, made it easier to start. “My dad’s been…” She trailed off, her voice tightening. “He’s just been worse lately. Everything’s my fault, y’know? The house isn’t clean enough. I’m not enough. He just—” Her breath hitched, and she shook her head.

Madison didn’t interrupt, just nodded slightly, her hands folded in her lap.

“And Chris,” Star added, her voice quieter now. “He was such an asshole. Like, I get it—he’s stressed. He has so much going on. But it felt like everything he said was aimed right where it’d hurt the most, like he was just… unloading all his shit on me.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her hoodie, and her words spilled out faster now. “And the worst part is, I’m not even mad at him. I just—” She swallowed hard, her eyes shining. “I care about him so much, it makes me feel stupid. It’s like I can’t stop caring even when I know I should.”

Madison stayed quiet, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

“And I miss my mom.” Star’s voice cracked, and the first tear fell before she could stop it. “I miss her so much. I just… I wish things were different. I wish she was here.”

The tears came faster now, slipping silently down her cheeks. Comet, sensing her distress, immediately leapt down from the couch and climbed onto Star’s chest. He curled up there, his warm, heavy weight grounding her as he began purring softly.

Madison slid down to the floor beside Star, leaning against her. “Do you remember that time your mom took us to the pool?” she said, her voice soft and steady.

Star blinked, looking over at her.

“She jumped in fully clothed because you were too scared to go in,” Madison continued with a small smile. “And then she made a huge splash on purpose so we’d all get soaked. I thought the lifeguard was gonna kill her.”

A shaky laugh escaped Star’s lips. “I remember. She had to drive us home in her wet jeans.”

“And then there was the time she tried to help us bake cookies,” Madison added, her own laughter bubbling up. “But we didn’t read the directions, so we added like three tablespoons of salt instead of sugar. She ate one anyway and said it was the best cookie she’d ever had.”

Star laughed again, the sound soft and bittersweet. “She was such a liar.”

“She really was,” Madison agreed, nudging Star’s shoulder gently.

The laughter faded, but Star felt a little lighter. She wiped her face with her sleeve, looking over at Madison with a sad smile. “I think I might miss him,” she mumbled.

Madison shook her head, smiling knowingly. “Really? You’ve only been a little bit obvious with the whole Bella Swan vibe you’ve got going on.”

Star’s eyes widened, and then she burst into laughter, hitting Madison’s arm lightly. “Okay!”

“I’m just saying,” Madison teased.

“Well, now I need to binge Twilight,” Star said, still laughing.

Madison grinned. “Say no more.”

They quickly set up for a movie night, grabbing blankets, snacks, and, of course, Comet. Star curled up on the couch, a sense of ease washing over her for the first time in weeks.

Chris sat at the dinner table, staring down at his sketchpad. The drawing was finished, the lines crisp and deliberate, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop fidgeting with it. His pencil tapped against the table in a steady rhythm.

“Can you stop?” Lila mumbled from the couch, her eyes glued to the TV. “You’re bein’ annoying.”

Chris sighed softly, glancing over at her. “What’re y’watchin’, bug?”

“Snoopy in Space,” she said, barely looking at him.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t Snoopy from, like, when Mom was a kid?”

Lila giggled. “Star said you’d be a hater about it. That’s why we only watch it together.”

Chris’s stomach dropped at the mention of Star. He hummed in response, his fingers tightening around the pencil.

“I miss Star,” Lila said quietly.

Chris looked over at her, struggling to find the words. “I know, bug,” he said finally, his voice soft. “S’bedtime though, c’mon.”

Lila pouted but didn’t argue when she caught the exhaustion in his eyes. She grabbed her bunny and walked over to him, wrapping her small arms around his neck. “Goodnight, Chris.” She kissed his cheek and padded off toward her room.

Chris blinked, stunned for a moment, before following her. He caught her just as she climbed into bed. “What was that about?” he asked.

“What?”

“You just tried to put yourself to bed. Since when’re y’too good for my tucking-in?”

Lila shrugged. “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

Chris’s chest ached, but he forced a smile. “Kid, you could never bother me. I’m tuckin’ you in ‘til you’re 50, alright?”

Lila rolled her eyes with a giggle as Chris flopped onto her bed, tickling her sides until she squealed.

When the giggles subsided, Chris looked at her seriously. “You know how much I love you?”

She nodded.

“You know how much Ma loves you?”

Another nod.

“Is Star mad at us ‘cause Momma’s not here?”

Chris’s heart clenched. He shook his head. “No, bug. She’s not mad at you or Momma. I was just an idiot and said some mean things I didn’t mean.”

Lila scowled. “What? Why! Go say sorry!”

Chris shrugged softly. “S’ not that simple.”

“Yes, it is!” Lila said, her small voice fierce. “You just say what you say to me—“I’m sorry let’s get feel better ice cream”— duh.”

Chris shook his head. “It unfortunately doesn’t work like that, kiddo.”

Lila yawned, snuggling deeper into her blanket. “You’re just bein’ a scaredy-cat.”

Chris kissed her forehead, tucking her in tightly. “ yeah, Goodnight, bug.”

Lila was sound asleep in her room, her bunny clutched tightly to her chest, the soft rise and fall of her breathing the only reminder that someone else was there. Chris sat at the dining table, staring down at the sketchpad in front of him.

The drawing was delicate but deliberate—a blend of shadow and light. The background was dark, with faint, swirling shapes blending into the shadows, but the stars stood out, scattered across the page in sharp, bright white. It wasn’t anything obvious, but it felt like it captured something he couldn’t put into words: the feeling of being adrift, of wanting to reach for something but not being sure if it was still there.

He’d started it thinking about Lila, about Evelyn, about how everything in his life felt like it was slipping out of his control. But somewhere in the hours he’d worked on it, his thoughts had drifted to Star. To the tears in her eyes, the way her voice had broken as she tried to reach him. To the silence that had stretched between them in the days since, heavier than he wanted to admit.

Chris folded the corner of the paper, unfolding it again, his jaw tight. He couldn’t shake the memory of her face—hurt, but not angry. Just sad. Like she was already bracing for him to walk away.

Finally, he stood up, grabbing his jacket and the drawing. He glanced into Lila’s room one more time, making sure she was still fast asleep, before slipping out of the trailer as quietly as he could.

Chris reached her trailer faster than he thought he would. It was cold, his breath visible in the night air, but he barely noticed. He stood at the door for a moment, staring at the chipped paint and the flickering porch light. His hand hovered over the door before he knocked, sharp and quick.

The sound echoed in the stillness, and for a second, he thought she might not be home. Then the door opened abruptly, but it wasn’t Star standing there. It was Danny, his expression hard and irritated.

“She ain’t here,” Danny said flatly, his words clipped. Before Chris could get a word in, the door slammed shut.

Chris stood there, frozen, his mind racing. He thought about leaving, about heading back to his own trailer and letting the silence win again. But instead, he pulled the drawing from under his jacket and reached into his pocket for a pen. The stars stared back at him as he scribbled on the back of the paper, the letters quick and messy but clear: Can we talk?

He folded the drawing carefully and walked to the side of the trailer where he knew her room was. The window was cracked open slightly, the tapestry hung over it swaying gently in the breeze. He slid the paper through the gap, hoping it would land somewhere visible, before stepping back. He stood there for a moment longer, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, then turned and walked back toward his trailer.

Breaking Dawn: Part 1 played on the TV, the overly dramatic music swelling as Bella stared broodingly out the window. Madison couldn’t help but snort. “Okay, but who actually stares out the window like that?” she said, shaking her head.

Star, sprawled out on the couch with Comet curled up at her feet, grinned. “It’s iconic, Madison. Don’t question the art.”

Madison rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie—not when Star looked so relaxed, her face lit up with laughter for the first time in weeks. Every time Star laughed, something warm bloomed in Madison’s chest, her heart beating just a little faster than usual.

She tried to focus on the TV, but her gaze kept drifting back to Star. The way her hair fell over her shoulder, the way her lips curved when she smiled, the way she absentmindedly scratched behind Comet’s ears. It wasn’t the first time Madison had noticed these things, but it was the first time she let herself admit what they meant.

Star shifted, leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn, and then settled back down, her head resting in Madison’s lap. Madison froze for a second, her breath catching, before she gently rested a hand on Star’s hair, letting her fingers trace soft patterns. Her heartbeat quickened, but she kept her movements steady, careful not to let Star notice.

The room felt warmer now, the flickering light from the TV casting soft shadows across Star’s face. Madison barely heard the dialogue on the screen, too focused on the way Star’s breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely.

For now, she didn’t say anything. She just brushed a strand of hair out of Star’s face and let her fingers linger there a moment too long, hoping Star couldn’t feel how her hands trembled ever so slightly. She studied the curve of her face, the way the faintest smile lingered on her lips even in the quiet. Madison felt a soft ache in her chest—not painful, but full, as if her heart had grown just a little too big for her ribs. The moment felt fragile, suspended between comfort and something else entirely, but Madison didn’t dare break it.

AUTHORS NOTE: TWILIGHT MENTION😸😸

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[pitchsidestories]

The Beautiful Game II Lia Wälti x Reader

masterlist I word count: 3754

a/n: based off this request here. We hope you enjoy this one, we definetly did while writing it ! ❤️

“How many times do we have to tell you Lee that this cap is not working as undercover outfit?”, Lia Wälti clicked her tongue. She and a few of her Arsenal teammates were on their way to meet the girls school football team, you and your best friend Jenna coached together.

Pouting Leah Williamson folded the arms across her chest:” Leave me alone. I love my flat cap.” “Aswell as your grandpa shoes.”, Laura Wienroither kept teasing. Grinning the English defender elbowed her playfully: “You’re just jealous.” “Yes, we just know what’s cozy.”, Kim Little tuned in as she loved them as much as the younger player did. 

Cheekily Leah turned to face her friend:” Don’t you have some leaves to rake up anyway, Wally?” “First, I promised to say hi to my girlfriends’ team.”, the Swiss midfielder reminded them why they came to visit in the first place.  

As if Kim was reading her thoughts she said to the blonde defender: “That’s why we’re here, Leah.” “I know, Kimmy.”, Leah rolled her eyes at her. Clearing her throat the Arsenal Captain replied:” Just saying. Lia, you go first, it’s your girlfriend.”

Warmly Jenna greeted the brunette:” Lia, hi.” “Hi.”, Lia beamed at her and you.  Delighted you told her: “The girls are so excited to meet you, love.” “I hope you didn’t make too big of a deal out of it.”, she laughed. Innocently your best friend shook her head:” No.”

“Great undercover look, Lee.”, you winked at the blonde who was one of the closest friends of your girlfriend. Relieved about your words, she answered: “Thanks. The others gave me shit for it.”

One of your girls, Hazel who was wearing a white bow in her brown hair exclaimed cheerfully:” Girls, this is Leah Williamson!”  “Oh, here we go.”, Kim groaned in frustration while the little footballers quickly surrounded England’s captain. Excited Leah waved at all of them:” Hi girls.”

“Do you want to show them what we practiced?”, you asked your players. Curious Lia glanced at you:” You practised something?” You nodded with a deep smile on your face: “Yes. Hazel, Daisy, do you want to go first?” “Yes!”, Daisy shouted back motivated by the presence of the Arsenal players.

As they were showing their football skills in front of the women who played professionally, Leah looked at them in admiration: ”Oh my god, that’s so cool.” “Impressive.”, Leah commented equally fascinated.

With a shy smile Hazel went to the grown-up teammates:” Can we play with you.” “Sure. Let’s go.”, Leah clapped into her hands before pulling out her football boots ready to join the little girls in their play.

You watched from the sidelines as the girls ran around the field with the injured Laura cheering from the side. Lia snuck up next to you, putting her hand around your waist; “You and Jenna are doing a great job here, love.“

“Thanks, Lia.“ You turned your head towards your girlfriends for a quick kiss. Amy, one of the youngest in the team, pointed at the two of you; “Ewww, Wally kissed Coach!“

“Girls can kiss girls too, idiot!“, Daisy yelled back at her, her dark ponytail swinging angrily from side to side. “Yes, don’t be weird about it. Love is love!“, Hazel agreed.

Amy rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way; “Ugh, I know that. But kissing is ew.“ You stifled a laugh, not sure if you should scold or be proud of your young players.

Kim ruffled Amys messy blonde hair; “I found that ew at your age too.“ “You did?“, Amy asked with big eyes. The Arsenal captain nodded gently; “Yes, you’re still young. That’s okay.“ “You should come play with us.“, the little girl suggested, tugging on Kims sleeve and pulling her with her back to the others.

Lia grinned at you; “I think they like the girls.�� “And the girls like them.“, you added, your eyes on the scene in front of you. “It’s cute.“ Jenna interrupted you, bumping you with her elbow; “Stop looking at them like that.“

“Like that?“, you repeated, hoping that your assistant coach would elaborate. Instead, she shook her head; “You know.“ “Jen!“, you exclaimed. “What?“ “Girls? I invited your team to our next game.“, Leah yelled over from the other side of the pitch.

Daisy cheered in excitement; “It’s going to be amazing!“ You watched Jennas face drop; “Wait, what?“ “You did?“, you also asked, caught somewhere between surprise and confusion. The defender beamed; “Yes, they are so excited.“

Jenna gave Leah a murderous glare before turning towards you in exasperation; “Oh, we’re f-… How do we explain that to their parents?“ Hopeful that this situation can be solved, you shrugged; “We’ll find a solution.“

“Please, we want to go!“, Hazel begged, trying her best attempt at puppy eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it happen. I promise, Hazel.“, you assured the young girl somewhat confident.

She nodded and proposed; “We can talk to our parents too.“ Laura smiled at the group of girls; “We’d love to see you there.“ “We’ll be there. Somehow.“, Jenna sighed in defeat. Lia pressed another quick kiss on your temple; “Can’t wait.“ “Promise.“, you winked at her.

Weeks later, you and Jenna were headed to the Emirates Stadium, followed by your group of young footballers. Impatiently, Amy jumped up and down; “We need to hurry up or we’ll be late!“ “Amy, it’s fine. We won’t be late!“, Jenna reminded for the third time and heaved an annoyed sigh.

“We’re right on time.“, you explained as you entered the stadium. Even Daisy began to get nervous; “Are you sure?“ You nodded as you lead them to their seats; “Yes.“ The girls went suspiciously quiet, only letting out a few gasps at the sight of the pitch. Hazels eyes lit up in awe; “Wow, that’s huge!“

Baffled Daisy turned her head to face your girlfriend:” And you really play here?” “We do.”, Lia nodded.  Excited Amy cheered:” That is so cool!” “It’s, right?”, Leah beamed at the sight of the overjoyed girls. Big eyed Daisy agreed: “It is! It’s so big.”

“I didn’t know girls could play in such big stadium.. I mean the lionesses yes but another girls team.”, Amy mumbled deeply impressed by the size of her surroundings. Next to her Hazel dreamed out loud:” Maybe we can be here too one day!” “That would be awesome.”, her friends admitted.

A big smile was on your lips while you told them:” Everything is possible.” “Feel at home girls. We got to go warm up.”, your girlfriend said softly. Grinning Amy wished her good luck. “Thank you.”, Lia replied, waving at them before joining her teammates for the warmup session.

Delighted, you shouted after her: “See you later.” The way the Swiss woman interacted with the children you were coaching warmed your heart which didn’t got unnoticed by your best friend who pointed that out:” I saw that.”

“What?”, you asked blushing even though you knew exactly to what she was referring to.  Amused she threw her eyebrows up: “That look.” “She’s my girlfriend how am I supposed to look at her?”, you wanted to know playing innocently with your hair. With a dirty grin Jenna answered:” Not like that.” “Oh, please.”, you laughed. 

You let out a relieved sigh when Hazel announced:” The game start!”  Drawing back the attention on them made you get away from the teasing of your friend. Clearing your throat, you changed the topic to a lighter theme:” Right, do you have a favourite player, girls?”

“Kim Little!”, Amy was the first to answer, remembering her lovely meet up with the Arsenal captain. You gave her a knowing look:” She made quite an impression on you during our training, right, Amy?” “Yes. She’s so nice.”, the blonde girl declared. Humming Daisy continued:” I like Leah the most.”

“That’s a great choice too who do you like Hazel?”, you curiously glanced at the girl who wore a red bow for the game today.  With a tone of deep admiration, she confessed:” I like all of them.”  “Yes, they are a great team like you girls.”, you winked at them.

That was the moment Jenna decided to tease you again:” Now ask your coach who her favourite player is.” “Oh, that’s easy.”, Amy rolled her eyes at that question, the answer seeming too obvious for her to say out loud.

Much more motivated Hazel chirmed:” It’s Wally!” “Yes, they are so cute!”, Daisy added giggling. In disgust, Amy wrinkled her nose: “No, they’re ew.”  “Amy stop being such a hater.”, Hazel elbowed the younger one playfully. 

The cheeks of Amy turned hot red:” I’m not. Only when they kiss.” “Same.”, Jenna agreed with her. Laughing you told them:” You two made that very clear.” “Good.”, the young girl seemed satisfied with your reaction. “Rude.”, you replied but you couldn’t really be mad at her.

Hazel interrupted your discussion, bouncing up and down while she pointed towards the pitch; “They scored! You missed the goal!“ “No, we didn’t!“, Amy protested loudly. “Yes, you did!“

While Hazel was still trying to prove her point, the stadium erupted in cheers again. “They scored another one!“, Daisy commented, her eyes big with excitement. Hazel stood up on her seat to get a better view of Alessia Russo; “That was so cool!“ “A pretty goal, right?“, Jenna agreed while pulling the girl back onto her seat. Hazel nodded; “I want to try that in training.“ “We can do that.“, you promised. “Good.“

With a shrug, you suggested; “Maybe Lessie can show you girls at some point.“ “Can she come visit us too?“, the girls asked impatiently. You tilted your head with a wink; “I’ll ask her, okay?“ “Okay.“ “I’m sure she’ll come.“, Jenna said, smirking at you.

You were grateful that the girls’ attention was mostly on the football game. “Another goal!“, Amy announced happily. Daisy raised her arms in the air, almost hitting Hazel in the process; “Yeay!“ Jenna leaned over towards you; “At least your girls team is winning. Imagine if we came here with the girls and Arsenal lost. I wouldn’t want to dry all those tears.“

Her eyes widened like she was horrified by the thought alone. You glanced at your players; “Yes, you’re right about that. But their eyes are sparkling right now.“ “I’m just surprised that they can sit still for that long.“, Jenna remarked, watching the young girls with a wrinkled nose. “They never do during training when you try to teach them tactics.“, you grinned back at her.

Jenna sighed in annoyance; “One day I’ll get them to understand what I want from them.“ “I’m sure you’ll.“, you nodded politely but failed to suppress a smile. “I’ll take the girls home after the game. You can go with your girlfriend.“, your assistant coach smoothly changed the topic. You looked at her in surprise; “Are you sure?“ “Sure.“

“Thank you, Jenna.“, you thanked her which she only acknowledged with a raised eyebrow; “You owe me.“ “What do you want?“, you laughed. With a shrug, Jenna replied; “I’ll tell you when I need something.“ “Okay.“ Her eyes were trained back on the football pitch when she casually mentioned; “Maybe I’ll ask you to set me up with one of the players.“

Your jaw dropped and you turned towards her, your face caught in a state between shock and laughter; “With who?“ “I don’t know. I was just joking.“, Jenna grimaced, obviously weirded out by your excitement. You slapped her on her upper arm; “Man, I thought you were serious!“

Your friend shook her head at you; “You would have wanted to set me up? Our little girls wouldn’t allow that.“ “Only Amy wouldn’t allow it.“, you rolled your eyes with a smile. “Yeah, probably.“, she had to agree. “See?“ Jenna gave you one more disapproving look; “Oh stop it. I’m not going out with one of the Arsenal players. That’s ridiculous.“

“Why not?”, you kept asking innocently. Jenna tried to shrug it off:” I’m not dating a football player.” “That’s what I said too and when Lia stepped into my life.”, you thought out loud with a nostalgic tone. A small smile crept onto the other woman’s lips:” That’s something different.” “Is it?”, you raised an eyebrow.  

Amused she shook her head:” Focus on the game, girl.” “Lia scored!”, you interrupted her blushing.  Dreamily Daisy sighed: “Only for you. That’s so romantic.”  “Ew, disgusting.”, Amy wrinkled her little nose. Enthusiastically Hazel disagreed:” No, she threw a heart at her direction.”

And indeed, Lia did that little gesture which melted your heart. Meanwhile Amy repeated herself:” Yes, disgusting.” “Some things will never change, right Amy?”, you laughed. Now giggling too, the small girl nodded in agreement:” Never.”

After the match ended Jenna was looking at your girls:” Come on girls time to go home.” “Already?”, Hazel pouted, she didn’t want this fantastic day of football to end anytime soon, the air still tasted sweet from Arsenal’s win.

Concentrated your friend was careful to lead them to the exit of the stadium: “Yes, let’s go.” “See you, tomorrow!”, you said your goodbye to them.  Smiling Jenna turned around:“See you.”  “Tell the Arsenal girls they played great!”, Daisy shouted grinning.  You replied quickly:“I’ll, promise.” “Now move, girls.”, your friend said to them.

Swooning Hazel answered:” I’d love to be her.” “No, you don’t. Let’s go.”, Jenna pleaded.  Disgusted Amy reminded her: “Honestly they must smell bad right now.” “You smell bad.”, Hazel rolled her eyes. “Jenna, she said I smell bad!” “No one smells bad and if anyone says that again, I’ll make sure you smell bad for weeks.”, their coach groaned.

Still beaming from the win Lia greeted you: “Hi, where are your girls?” “Jenna offered to take them home alone.”, you explained to your girlfriend. The brunette seemed happy about those news:“That’s nice of her.” “She asked me to do her a favour in the future.., so is someone single in your team?”, you wanted to know from her. A crooked smile lit up her face:” You want to set her up.” “Maybe.”, you played with a string of your hair which escaped your neat ponytail.

Lia who loved to play matchmaker answered: “I’ll ask around.” “Thank you.”  “Did you enjoy the game?”, the brunette changed the topic swiftly. “I did. The girls loved watching the game too.”, you reassured her.

As you mentioned them the eyes of your girlfriend sparkled:” That’s great. I’m happy they liked it here.” “Your goal and celebration for it was amazing.”, you winked at her. Delighted she confirmed:” I don’t usually score goals so that was a great coincidence that I did today.”

 “It was really sweet.”, Laura Wienroither interrupted your conversation smiling.  The Swiss glanced at her:“Thanks, Laura.” “You’re welcome.”, the younger player responded. Hopeful Lia turned back to face you: Can you wait? I’m just taking a shower quickly and then we can go?” “Sure.”, you agreed.

“I’ll hurry up.“, Lia promised, turning around to disappear into the dressing rooms. “Please!“, you called after her.

Your waiting was significantly shortened by Leah walking towards you; ”Hey!“ “Lee, hi.“, you pulled her into a quick hug. “Did you like it?“, the defender asked. “Yes, why?“ “Just asking.“ You shook her head, knowing that the football player had some kind of ulterior motive for her questions; “Leah, tell me.“ “I was genuinely curious if you and your team liked the game.“, she shrugged in response.

Moved by the thought of how happy your players were to see their idols filling out a stadium, you smiled; ”They did, it was so cute.“ “We have something for the girls.“, Leah finally admitted. “You do?“, you asked softly.

The defender pulled a red Arsenal jersey out of her sports bag and held it up for you. The back was covered in signatures. “We all signed this. You can hang it up in your dressing room or something.“, she explained.

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from getting too emotional about this thoughtful gesture. Gratefully, you took the jersey from her; “Thank you, Lee. The girls will love it.“ Leahs face was lit up by a smile; “You’re welcome.“ “Appreciate it.“ “Lia is done.“, Leah remarked as her team mate appeared next to her, freshly showered and her hair still damp. You waved at the remaining players; “Perfect. See you, girls.“ “Let’s go home.“, Lia suggested with a yawn.

As soon as you arrived, you carefully took the jersey out and placed it on your desk; “I can’t wait for the girls to see the jersey you all signed.“ Lia dropped her bag and appeared right behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist; “It was a cute idea, right?“ “Definitely.“, you agreed, turning towards your girlfriend so you could kiss her cheek. “Leah came up with it.“

“I already thanked her.“ Lias eyes searched for yours; “If your team needs anything, we could help out.“ With a sigh, you removed yourself from her embrace; “I know. There’s still so much to do until the girls get equal opportunities to play that game..“ “But they have better chances than we did. That makes me incredibly happy.“, Lia responded truthfully. You nodded; “Me too. Also I love working with Jen.“

A smile tugged on Lias lips; “I can tell.“ “Also who knows, maybe one of them will become a future lioness.“, you continued enthusiastically. “That would be great.“, your girlfriend agreed. “Jenna would never stop bragging about it.“ Lia sceptically raised an eyebrow; “You wouldn’t either!“

“Yes, true.“, you smiled but a thought rushed trough your brain, making the smile fade far too quickly. “I saw how you looked at the girls…“, you started. The midfielder didn’t seem to follow you. She frowned; “How did I look at them?“ “Like you wished one of them was yours.“ There was silence between the two of you. Lia blinked a few times; “What? No…“ “No?“, you echoed. “I don’t know.“ Taken aback, you apologized; “Sorry… maybe I completely misread it.“

“No. I wasn’t aware that I was doing that.”, the brunette mumbled stunned. Confused you replied: ”You weren’t?” “No.”, she emphasized her answer. You couldn’t think about anything adequate to say so your lips only formed an ,oh’.  

Quickly Lia added: “I’m sorry.” “No, I’m just disappointed you didn’t say anything about wanting children.”, you said to her. Thrown off by your sentence the midfielder asked:” Who says I want children?” “Your eyes.”, you pointed out. The Swiss whispered:” That doesn’t make any sense. It’s stupid to even think about it.” “It’s not.”, you countered seriously.

Nervously Lia went through her hair with one hand:” I’m still playing, and you have your team.” “I’m sure we could make it work if that’s what you wanted.”, you reassured her. Helplessly the brunette bit her lip:” I don’t know. Would you want that?” “I do.”, you announced, your heart beating fast as you told her the truth. 

Slowly your girlfriend realized what you were trying to express all along:” That’s why you asked. You want children.” “Yes, and what do you want, Lia?”, you asked her in return. Her tone changed into something more hopeful:” I do want children. I just didn’t seem feasible.” “Maybe it’s now.” The kiss you exchanged was like a promise to something you both had the desire for but were too afraid to speak out until now.

A bit over a year later you and Lia were mums to a little girl. You even took her to the training of your girls’ team. Annoyed Amy threw her hands up in the air:” She can’t play yet, Jenna.” “Stop it, Ames. Of course she can.”, Jenna told her off.

The little girl wasn’t impressed by her answer: “She’s a baby.” “And? You can’t start early enough.”, her coach shrugged her shoulders. Grinning Daisy continued:” Plus she’s Wallys kid so it’s in her DNA.” “You don’t even know what DNA is.”, Hazel teased her. “Of course I do!”, she protested.

Softly you interrupted them before this could escalate into a proper fight:” Girls, focus on the game.” It seems like your toddler heard it because she kicked the ball into the goal. Baffled Amy was the first to speak:“That was pure luck.” “It’s talent.” Jenna whistled.

Proudly Lia told the blonde defender after her training:” Lee, our little girl scored today.” “Your girl can’t walk yet.”, Leah replied amused. Delighted Steph declared:” She can play football before she can walk.” “She’s Wally’s daughter. She can do everything.”, Laura added. Smiling Alessia nodded:” Yes, she’s a smart cookie.”

“I want to see that before we get too excited.”, Leah tried to calm down her teammates. Beaming Lia played the video in front of her friends:” Here Jenna filmed the big moment.” “Not bad. That’s going to be a good football player.”, the England captain admitted. “Right?” “Of course.”, Laura chirmed.

“Alright, girls. I got to go and pick them up.”, Lia announced, pocketing her phone. Before she left, Leah called after her; “Okay, bring them to our next training.”

As Lia arrived at your football pitch, Daisys voice echoed across the grounds; “Wally!” “Hi, girls.”, she smiled and let your players embrace her in a group hug. “Hello.”, Hazel mumbled into the midfielders side. Your girlfriend looked up and met your gaze from the other side of the pitch.

You both smiled at each other. “How was training?”, Lia asked. “Someone was trying hard to impress.”, Amy rolled her eyes. Jenna raised an eyebrow at the blonde girl and explained; “She means your daughter. She was not happy with the performance.” “Oh, really?”, Lia laughed.

Nodding, Jenna confirmed; “Really.” The girls were slowly letting go of Lia when you walked over at them, carrying your daughter. “Hi, Lia.”, you greeted her. She leaned over to first kiss you on the cheek before she carefully pressed her lips to her daughters head; “Hi, love.” “We‘re ready.”, you smiled. Taking the toddler from you, Lia suggested; “Let‘s go home.”

Your football team watched as the three of you left the football pitch together. “Goodbye, you three!”, Jenna called after you. You waved at her one last time. Simultaneously, Amy tugged on her coaches shirt; “Jen?” “Yes?”

“Maybe it‘s not that disgusting.“, the girl concluded, tilting her head pensively while she watched on as Lia wrapped her arm around your waist and gently brushed her lips against yours. Jenna remained silent and smiled softly.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 92)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (69) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (24)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3k))

JORDAN POV

“What are you smiling at?” Leah asked from beside her, placing her hand on her thigh as she drove.

“Can I not just be happy?”

“Of course, but I know your looks. There’s something else there. Don’t you go hidin’ it from me now.”

Jordan smirked, her head resting against the headrest of her seat as she stared at Leah. She was wearing grey joggers, white sneakers, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a cap, her face still lit up and happy from their morning of golfing. The corners of her eyes were crinkled. She never liked it, the signs of her ageing, however it was one of the things Jordan loved most in the world.

Leah looked at her. “Jord?”

“I was thinking that not long ago I was on a beach, alone and feeling hopeless.” She saw Leah’s expression fall and held her arm with both of her own, leaning in slightly to kiss her shoulder. “And now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Everything I was upset about is a thing of the past. I have a new friend who I wouldn’t trade for the world. I’m getting game time and making friends within the group. And I have you…” Leah’s face softened. Although they’d spent the morning doing something Leah had loved – it was the perfect day for Jordan also as she got to spend it with her. She murmured her next words softly. “I want to grow old with you, Lea.”

She waited for a reaction for what seemed like an eternity.

Leah pulled up somewhere and stopped the car, putting it in park and turning off the engine. When she turned to her, Jordan could see her tears forming and threatening to spill over.

“Oh Christ, you’ve done it to me.” She accused, wiping at her eyes. Jordan chuckled and gave her the time she needed.

“You want to grow old with me?” Leah asked, holding eye contact. It was ironic as she was the younger of the pair.

“I do.” Jordan brought Leah’s hand to her cheek and nodded against it. “Do you?”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Of course I do, silly girl. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Jordan leant over and tasted the salty tears on Leah’s lips as she kissed her. It felt like home. Leah’s hand pressed against her chest; over her heart which calmed the nerves. Just like she knew it would. No one knew Jordan like Leah did.

She savoured the taste of her until Leah pulled back gently, her thumb stroking over her chest.

“We need to talk about what’s going to happen though, Jord.” She murmured lowly against her lips.

Jordan nodded against her and whispered a response that was almost a croak. “I know.”

She pulled back and any nerves she had for the conversation were immediately calmed by looking at Leah alone. She was calm, collected, and looking like she was in it, regardless of what obstacles they had to overcome.

“Arsen-” she started.

“No.” Jordan cut off, shaking her head. “No. My Arsenal days are over. I’ve made my peace with it. I’m getting game time with Villa, and I don’t have long enough left to be on the bench half the time, which we both know Jonas will do with me. You all have too many quality players.”

Leah pondered her words for a minute, looking like she was going to argue, and then eventually coming to terms with it and nodding. “Okay, Jord. Are you happy with Villa?”

“I am now..”

“And you’re enjoying Birmingham?”

She knew where this was going. “I know it’s not ideal, being so far from London, but hey, it’s only a few hours. We can do that… right?”

Leah didn’t hesitate. “A few years apart is nothing. I’m not losing you again. But… I was thinking I could join Villa…”

Jordan felt her eyes widen as she thought about it for a split second before shaking her head. “No. Absolutely not. Arsenal is your home. I’ve never met a bigger Gooner in my life. I want to see you retire there.”

Leah opened her mouth to speak again, though Jordan beat her there. “There’re no arguments here, Lea. If you can do the distance while I finish my career out at Villa, then we stay where we are. And anytime there are international camps, I’ll come to you. We’ll spend out weekends together. Any spare chances we get.”

“You may be at the camps too..”

Jordan gave her a look. “I’m p…past my time.” She stuttered out with emotion and caught herself with a deep breath. “Sarina won’t call me up again. I’ve made my peace with that too. I’ve had a few conversations with Luce and YFN about it… but I will be there for you. I’ll be at all of your games in England kit.”

Leah’s face softened at first at that comment, and then slowly, Jordan could see that crease forming between her eyebrows. She reached out and smoothed it over. “It’s okay, Lea. It really is. I promise.”

Her hand found her cheek and Leah leant into it. “Are you sure?” She muttered.

“I just want you.”

“You have me.” She admitted with an exaggerated sigh. “God, you’ve always had me, Jordan.”

Jordan’s heart skipped a beat.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“This will make me happy. Me at Villa, you at Arsenal. Us together. We’ll make it work.”

“You won’t get lonely out there?”

“I have Blu, and YFN will be moving back in while she gets better. And I’ll have you whenever you’re free.”

“I’ll be with you every chance I get, but I do have a lot of commitments.” She admitted. “I have events. Charity work. Interviews. A lot of expectations… and I know you don’t like coming to events-”

“-I’ll come.”

Leah almost startled. “What? You’ve never come to an event with me before…”

“We weren’t ever public. We are now.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s part of your life, and I want to be there for it. Plus it means more time together and excuses to dress up..”

Leah grinned. Actually grinned. “So you’ll leave clothes in London?”

“At your house?”

“At our house.” She corrected.

Jordan’s lips twitched as she hid a smile. “Yes. And you’ll keep some at our Birmingham place?”

“Well, it makes sense to, of course.”

Jordan beamed lightly, trying to calm her excited heart. “It’s agreed. Now let’s get home so I can listen to you singing your horrendous country music from the shower while I make us some ham sandwiches for lunch.”

Leah chuckled and it was such a carefree sound. As if all the worries she had, were just expelled with their conversation. She reached out to stroke Jordan’s cheek before gesturing outside to the garage. “We’re already home.”

Jordan’s mouth dropped open slightly before she caught it.

“What about… other parts of our future?”

“What do you mean?” Jordan asked. “You mean our careers afterwards?”

“Well yeah, along with the other important things we never talked about before. Like marriage and kids.”

“It’s best to talk about it all now…” Jordan acknowledged. “What are your thoughts on kids?”

Jordan knew Leah wanted kids, but with her endometriosis, it made it difficult. It would always be Jordan who would need to carry them.

“You know what I want,” Leah sighed. “I want them. Even if we adopt.”

“I’ll carry them…” Jordan offered. They’d never spoken about it like this before, and she’d never offered, but now was the right time. They were all in. Honesty and compromise was necessary for their future together. “Just give me another two years of football. I want to see if I can make the Euros in 2025. If not, then I’ll retire.”

Leah was shocked. She turned in her seat. “Jordan, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” she reassured. “I’m offering. I want this, Leah. I want us. A future with you. I have to be realistic. And the reality is that I will be lucky to be starting in two years. My best football is behind me. Time is not on my side.”

“There are other options… surrogacy, adoption, freezing eggs…”

Jordan reached over and touched that worried crease again between her eyebrows and felt it deepen under her finger as Leah’s thoughts and worry ran more rampant. “This is what I want. I promise.”

Leah took some time to accept that. She reached out and laid her hand on Jordan’s lower tummy, eventually allowing herself a little smile.

“A little Nobbs.”

“A little Williamson.”

“You’d take my name? And carry our kids?”

“There’s nothing I want more than two little Williamson’s running around, causing and then solving chaos. Telling everyone what’s right and wrong.”

Leah chuckled. “Fair.” She tilted her head. “Three.”

Jordan shook her head. “Two. Better for travelling.”

“Hm. Okay. Two. But the first jersey we’re buying them is a Nobbs England kit.”

Jordan didn’t think she’d ever felt so happy in her life. These were the conversations they’d avoided previously. Only now did she realise it was because they weren’t ready for them then. They were now. They were all in it, now. And she knew that Leah would drop everything if Jordan wanted that. But she didn’t.

Jordan had reached the point in her life where she wanted to finish her career and go out on her own terms. She was already thinking about the future. She hoped she’d be lucky enough to bring their kids to Leah’s games if she were still playing. To be fair, Leah was the type of person who would play well into her mid to late 30s. She was the leader the team needed. She thrived on the pitch, and off it.

The only thing that had made her feel uneasy was the thought of finding a job after it, when the entirety of her life had been as a football player. It was a career with such a short life-span, though her first thought was YFN and the conversations they’d had about what she’d do after she retired. Jordan wasn’t the interviewing type, though knowing YFN, she’d find the perfect job for her.

Jordan’s thoughts were interrupted by Leah reaching out to cup her cheek and stroke it with her thumb.

“I have two more conditions.”

Jordan raised her eyebrow. It was cheeky given all that she’d offered from her side already.

“Go on, then.”

“I know we had the kiss at the game on Friday… but I want us to make it official on social media.” She requested. “Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. I don’t want us to be dancing around the media. Let’s tell everyone on our own terms.”

This was a slight surprise as previously; it had been Leah to ask that they didn’t make it official. To be fair, they’d grown a lot in a year, and she completely understood Leah’s want to keep her private life private given just how famous she was.

“Okay, Lea. But… only after tonight. When the situation with Mark is sorted out.”

Leah nodded. “Agreed.”

“And the second condition?”

Leah paused, her eyes flicking between Jordan’s as if searching for something. Whatever it was, she seemed to find it.

“Marry me, Jordan.”

YFN POV

YFN was looking down at the colourful keychain in her hand, fiddling with it to stop her hands from trembling. The yellow key was for Lucy’s Spanish apartment. The blue for her place in Manchester. The red for her… for their place in London. The black fob for Miles. She bit her lip.

“Hey, love,” Lucy eased, reaching out to touch one of her dimples as they pulled up to a red light. “Your dimples are working overtime. What’s wrong..?”

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to lean into Lucy’s hand. “I’m just a little nervous, Luce.”

“About Mark?”

She nodded, kissing her palm and lowering it to tangle their fingers as Lucy began to drive again.

“It’ll all be sorted tonight.”

“I’m not so sure. He’s not one to back down so easily. It’s his child…”

Lucy was silent, though YFN could see her jaw twitch slightly, betraying the feeling inside her. It made them all uncomfortable.

“I did some research on them…” she murmured, her grip tightening on Lucy’s hand. She stroked patterns into the back of it absentmindedly with her sling hand as it hung there. Lucy loved being touched by her and she knew it would ease her. Especially with the topic of conversation. “They were beautiful. Young. Talented. They loved reading fantasy and fiction. They adored female footballers. They used to write in their school newspaper, and loved JK more than anything…” She paused and took a deep breath. “Callie wrote this article about when they came out to Mark on the roof of their house. They were always the tomboy in the family. The one their dad wanted to be a boy. One day they were up fixing the tiles on the roof together when Callie told him…”

Although she didn’t say anything, she knew Lucy was listening intently. “…they were worried he’d react badly or perhaps even push them from the roof. He didn’t. He sat with them on the roof and offered them a beer. They watched the sunset in silence until he said, ‘You’ll always be the best part of me.’ He offered to pay for all of their surgery. Callie said in the article that it was the best day of their life.”

Lucy cleared her throat but didn’t say anything. YFN continued. “They titled it: ‘The sunset that changed my life.’ It was a beautifully written article. I wish I had a talent like them at that age. After that, Callie’s story spread throughout high school like you would expect, though worse. They were bullied. Dragged into classrooms and beaten. Mark tried to stop it when he realised. They survived by burying their head into football… and books. Fantasy. Anything creative and world-building. Just wanting an escape…”

“And then the comments…” Lucy muttered.

“And then the comments,” she whispered, wondering if Joanne knew the harm she’d done. “That was the final straw.”

Lucy pulled into a carpark and stopped. “Little one?”

“Luce?”

She turned to her with a serious, caring look on her face. “I’m going to be a good parent, aren’t I?”

Her heart melted. How could she even think that she wouldn’t? “You asking that question proves that you will be, Luce.” She raised her hand to kiss it. “You’re going to be such a good mum, that I find myself daydreaming about it whenever I see you with Alzira and Freddie. And your fans, Luce. You’re going to make such a good parent, I promise. And regardless, we’re in this together.”

“I want them to have more opportunities than I did.” She admitted with that strong, Northumberland accent of hers.

“We’ll give them the world, and make sure they know how lucky they are. Let’s start by giving Mark the closure he needs for Callie.”

Lucy smiled and nodded, satisfied.

She put the car into drive and drove into the closest drive-thru. “Hungry already?”

She gave an offended look. “I was getting you a hot chocolate to calm your nerves…”

When YFN heard her order a hot chocolate, a coffee and some snacks, she rolled her eyes at the lie and received a cheeky Lucy grin in return.

They arrived at the airport around 6pm, boarding slightly earlier than the Lionesses, though they were on separate flights. They parked up Miles in a designated bay, and once their luggage was collected, they were driven to the aircraft. It was a small, private plane, something she’d been in before with Ridley. Though Riddles had nothing to do with this one.

This was all Catherine.

Lucy carried her up the stairs and placed her down gently at the top. They greeted the pilots and crew, before seeing that Leah and Jordan were already onboard and ready to go.

They greeted them and sat down near each other, strapping in. Lucy laid out her snacks on the table, and YFN her laptop. Every second closer to their meeting, she became more nervous.

She felt Lucy’s hand take hold of her thigh formly and realised she was bouncing her leg. It automatically stopped at the feeling of Lucy there. She took a deep breath and calmed herself, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

It was then that she remembered exactly what he’d done to Leah and Dory. They had much more reason to be nervous than she did.

With a gentle smile, she looked over to her friends opposite them who both seemed more excited than nervous. They kept staring at each other and catching themselves, smiling like idiots. YFN tilted her head, pondering over it. It was too obvious to miss… or so she thought. She looked over at Lucy who was very unaware, instead fully focussed on the food she was munching away on, seemably happy with her choices.

She turned back to Dory as she looked at Leah, blushed, and looked away, directly at YFN who caught her. She felt her mouth drop open. Dory’s eyes widened as she realised she knew.

“Something you care to share with the group?”

Lucy stopped mid-chew and looked at the pair. She was terrible at social cues, and YFN had always wondered whether it was the ADHD or if she simply wasn’t interested.

Suddenly, she was choking.

“Luce, are you okay? What is it?”

She kept choking, her face going slightly red as she pointed to Dory’s hand. And the giant fucking rock on it.

[blambotheclowngirl]

In Defense of Korisu Morino: A Character Analysis

So I read and watched Makoako and for the most part a really enjoyed it. I see a handful of people sharing the sentiment of "mahoako would be good if they aged everyone up and got rid if korisu" or something along those lines. And I have to say I disagree, and no it's not because "yippe a loli" because I don't actually like lolicon :/ I may not care about it but that doesn't mean it's my cup of tea. No, I have my gripes with mahoako, but Korisu isn't one of them.

See I don't really mind that the cast is, for the most part, 8th graders. I like the idea of this story being about queer teenagers figuring out their sexuality as I feel like kink is a pretty big part of queer spaces and queer people owe a lot to kink. I understand that may not be the actual intention of mahoako, it's an eechi series where 14 year old girls do kinky shut to eachother, clearly a lot of the audience is going to be there for the horny nature of it. But I'm coming at this series from a sapphic asexual perspective, sex is always in the same realm as fantasy to me and it's not something I super care about.

All that said, coming at the series from the angle of "queer sexual awakenings and explorations" I think that korisu works very well and is really well written.

Korisu is unique from the other main characters because she represents the prepubesent sexual curiosity that a lot of children end up experiencing. In that way, Korisu reminds me a lot of myself as a young girl.

TMI about me, but I (and I'm sure many others) started masturbating around 9. I would not reach my first period until age 12 so I was very much still prepubesent. It wasn't a lot, but vague sexual attraction was there. I was trying to figure out what exactly I was attracted to and well at the time, gay was still an insult on the playground so my 9 year old brain was doing it's best to deny that I liked girls. I thought to myself, surely I can't be gay, I just think girls are pretty and I like boobs, but surely I'm straight. I was, in fact, not straight. And I had my confused little sexual fantasies every now and then.

Korisu in that way is very reminiscent of my own childhood experience with sexuality. She clearly has a little bit of a passive interest in sexuality, given some of her battles with tres magia. But she's also still written to be a child. A modest and shy child at that. Korisu is very soft spoken and childish. One if her main interests is toys. She loves to play with toys, and this seems to be the reason she joined enormita in the first place. She thought venelita was a toy and said yes to joining the evil organization so she could play with her. I also think that a lot of care has been put into how korisu is depicted. She's never directly sexualized. She projects her sexual fantasies onto others, but she is never the one in a sexual situation unless she is warping reality to pretend that she is an adult. Korisu is treated with a lot more modesty and decency than the other, older girls. You never see up her skirt, you never see any lewd expressions from her, the only time she is depicted naked is during a 1 panel heavily censored transformation sequence that isn't meant to be sexual, her swimsuit in the beach chapter/episode is almost comically conservative being one of those old timey looking striped suits with the shorts and sleeves and even a swim cap.

Her clothes always cover a lot of skin. It just seems like she's being purposefully written to be more than just the series resident loli, ya know? Like that's not why she's there. They could have written her to be permiscuous or to be obliviously and accidentally sexualized, but they didn't. They wrote her to be a child.

Diving into korisu's sexuality, as stated before, she tends to merely project her fantasies onto others with her powers, not getting directly involved. In our first encounter with her, when she shows off her powers as nero alice for the first time, she essentially just traps tres magia in a dollhouse and plays with them like dolls, having them act out a very sexually charged, but still rather childish and idealized game of house with a mommy, daddy, and child. House actually seems to be one of korisu's favorite games, sexual or not, which we will get into later. She doesn't involve herself in this game of house, just plays with her living dolls for a while before getting too sleepy to continue.

There are currently 2 instances where korisu directly involves herself in her little sexual fantasies, both if which I might argue are not entirely intentionally sexual on her end. The first of which, Utena has just given her back her favorite doll which she has stayed up all night to fix and has caught a cold with a fever as a result. Korisu decides to use her powers to place Utena and herself into her hospital doll set. She uses her powers to age herself up into an adult doctor and through a series of honestly comically childish ideas of what a doctor might do, despite the sexual twinge of the scene, cures Utena's cold. Not just treats it, but cures it outright. In like 5 minutes of playing doctor. What does she do? Presses a stick on Utena's tongue, places a stethoscope all over her chest, turned sexual by the fact that Utena has taken off her shirt and korisu just puts it right on her nipple, and then gives uten a shot. This is absolutely mostly just korisu playing doctor with her magic powers, it's just also a sexual fantasy of hers to be older and in a position of power, specifically in a caregiver role, something that comes up again later on and that we will delve deeper into later.

The second instance of korisu being directly involved in her sexual fantasies come to life via magic powers is during her play date with magenta. This I would argue is less sexual that the playing doctor scene for a few reasons, but first let's analyze this chapter/episode. The anime makes the argument that this scene isn't very sexual even more plausible by giving magenta an actual reason to regress. In the anime, magenta, who has been feeling like a burden to her team for not being very strong, is referred to as the mom friend. And she latches onto that. She takes her role as team mom very seriously and starts babying her friends, packing them lunches and such. This is a role magenta is comfortable in because she has 3 little sisters, and it's also clear it's making her feel useful to the team. Later on she ends up playing with korisu at the park, where they play a game of house, one of korisu's favorite games, in which magenta is the mommy. When she leaves she tells korisu she's always willing to play the mommy and then runs off to do her errands. We get like one mention of her having to pee. Back at the park, korisu is bummed about her play date being over and had the bright idea to keep playing house by using her powers to get magia magenta to show up and sucking her into a fantasy. Magenta obviously falls for this, and we flash into korisu's fantasy of magenta being a literal baby. She's in her crib scared and alone when suddenly her mommy shows up! And who is her mommy? Well it's adult korisu of course, ready to play house where this time she's the mommy.

Magenta is having a great time she regressing, playing with her "mommy" until she has to pee and ends up peeing. And then she starts to slip out of that regressed headspace and realizes she's not a baby and the person changing her diaper is nero alice and panic sets in alongside embarrassment because this is her enemy and she just pissed in front of her and she's not wearing pants and-

she rejects nero alice, who dejectedly starts to leave. And magenta sees that sad face and changes her mind. She can't jostled nero alice leave all sad. She was just playing. She wasn't doing anything evil it was all just fun and games. She plays the role of a baby a little while longer so alice can have her fun playing caregiver. Which results in one of the funniest shots in the manga and the anime.

The rest of their time together basically consists of korisu bottle feeding magenta a lot of milk and making her pee into a diaper again. And then she's done. Neither of them really seem to come away from this encounter with the idea that it was sexual. Sure magenta felt embarrassed and yeah alice wanted her to pee again, going so far as to press lightly on her stomach, but at most the sexual fantasy for korisu stopped there. I genuinely don't believe her intention in this game of house were sexual, I think she really did just want to keep playing house but with her in the caregiving role this time. That doesn't change the fact that the scene was obviously pandering to age players and people with a piss kink. But yeah I just feel like the character's motivations were innocent. In the Manga this chapter is a little harder to read as purely age regression because it doesn't give her the stress of being the team mom and the need to regress. The chapter is more over the top about her needing to pee because she drank too much water at the park, and i don't think it's ever specified that the game they played at the park was house. Manga said piss kink age play chapter, but anime said piss kink age play chapter but give it some character depth.

Moving on from that way too long play by play of the piss kink age play chapter.

The rest of the time we see korisu she doesn't really use her powers sexually at all. She makes her toys bigger so she can ride them around, she traps people in doll houses, and sometimes she'll make a special dollhouse for Utena to use and then fuck off for the rest of the chapter so Utena is using Alice's powers sexually but alice herself is off doing kid stuff somewhere off screen. One of my favorite examples of korisu using her powers in a way that really displays that she is in fact a 9 year old kid, is when she gets so excited about the new toys she just got at the toy store that she transforms out of pure joy and decides to use her godzilla toy and wand toy to have a kaiju battle with her riding godzilla and fighting magenta who she turned giant. She's not doing this for sex, she's doing this because she wants to have a kaiju battle with her new toys. Utena and kiwi making it sexual by crawling into magenta clothes is just aiding her in yhe kaiju battle. She didn't even win the battle but at the end of the day she's so happy.

Outside of her own sexual fantasies, korisu doesn't seem all that interested in sexuality. She either doesn't care, or, particularly with kiwi, gets annoyed and shoots her a disgusted "really?" look.

So looping back around to the consistent theme of Korisu's sexual fantasies either being a game of house or placing herself in a caregiver role. Why do I think she does this? This is just speculation on my end, but I really do think it has to do with her mother being so neglectful. Korisu is left home alone constantly because her mother is at work. She leaves her money to buy food, not even prepared food to eat, just money and a note on the kitchen table. Korisu is allowed to wander the city alone and does so often. The only reason she was able to join enormita is because she was by herself playing with sidewalk chalk in an alley. It's expanded upon that korisu really doesn't have any friends her age. Her first real friends as far as we know are her teammates at enormita, all of which are 5 years older than her. From what little we see of korisu's mom it seems like they love eachother, but she's just never home and her father is out of the picture for one reason or another. I think that this is why korisu is so enraptured with the idea of a perfect loving family. Why she wants to be a good caregiver, to give the love she craves from her mom, and to have a complete household, whatever she thinks that may be.

If you didn't have the experience of being sexually curious you may find yourself thinking why? Why is korisu the way that she is? Why is she having these sexual fantasies at such a young age but also is seemingly bothered by sexuality at other times?

And well, there could be more than one answer. There's the reading I've put forth that she is just having prepubesent sexual curiosity, the answer I think is the most likely to be intended if any. It could just be because the author wanted a loli and the fact the she's written modestly like this could be a coincidence (though I really think there was intent writing her this way especially when compared to how imitatio is written). There's always the possibility that korisu's past is darker than we know, that maybe she's experienced abuse of some kind, she's already experiencing neglect, who's to say there's not a reason her father is out of the picture, another reason her fantasies often revolve around family. We really can't say. I hope that we learn more about korisu when the author decides to pick the series back up again. I think it's likely that we will considering the last chapter introduced roboko.

I dunno man I don't know what I want the takeaway for this long winded post to be other than I think Korisu Morino is a well written character and a good representation of prepubesent sexual curiosity. She's written like a child, not like a sexualized fantasy of a child. When I was first reading through mahoako and got to the chapter where they introduced Korisu, I almost dropped the series. I thought "oh great they had to include a loli what the fuck she's 9" and then I kept reading, just to see what they'd do with her. And they didn't do what I expected. And by the end of reading I thought "wow. It's kind of refreshing to have a child character, especially in an eechi series that is THIS sexual, not being the object of sexualization." And that sentiment has stuck with me.

And then they introduced Imatatio and I wanted to throw my laptop 😤 but we'll that's a post for a different day because I have a lot of thoughts on her, not all as positive as my thoughts on Korisu, but it's more of a mixed bag.

At the end of the day I know that mahoako is a series that is meant to be arousing, it's eechi, it's a magical girl series about kink and bdsm that puts 14 year old girls in sexual situations for the audiences viewing pleasure. I get that. The series is by no means a masterpiece and I know it's very likely that I and a lot of other fans are reading too much into it. But I really think there is something there with the representation of queer kids exploring sexuality in a way that doesn't make them feel like outcasts for liking what they like.

Anyway, stan Korisu. Nero Alice best girl.