#they’re matching ponytails

[brainrot-communis]

TimCass sibling duo sketch *explodes*

[kooyabooya]

INSIGHT

m reader x gaeul // 17k words

It’s not much to unpack: the findings or purpose one pursues. You know this. Everybody’s different, and that’s not limited to the sex - it also accounts for the experiences and connections you make with someone, exploring the limitless possibilities of what or who you want in your life. You’ve been told that the ‘one’ might be out there and have yet to realize it. No one could ever really pin it down to one reason. 

But what’s there to overreact about? You’re a hopeless romantic. 

Okay. To backtrack on the hopeless romantic thing, that’s not entirely true; you’re on the eve of something big here, and the intuition is approaching that conclusion by the second. 

None of this should be that easy from the get-go. Delving into casual conversation to the nice meals and then the eventual ditziness finds you and her on the bed of fucking each other’s brains out until one of you is practically paralyzed from the waist down. That’s the essential beauty of it, right? The hints and signals are right in front of your face; all it takes is a simple notice of interest that can lead anyone to think if they feel the same way. 

You’re not entirely sure, but taking this date with a grain of salt was the best course of action to follow. Besides, it’s too early to delude yourself into thinking about a future with Gaeul. 

(Though, it’s worth noting: 

She never coined it to be a date; said that it was too direct on the nose. In all fairness, you just needed a plus one to tag along with you. It could’ve been anybody else, but Gaeul was the first person to come to mind. You and her have similar interests - a point of connection strong enough to expand on. She didn’t mind keeping you company, and the fact that she was willing to circles your mind far longer than it should’ve.) 

Which brings you to here: standing in front of a timely art piece that looks to be dated from the 1600s. Or- at least that’s what the plaque says on the bottom left corner of the frame. However, you also feel like the people in the room with you are also playing their role like they do in those typical romance movies or serial dramas. You also begin to wonder if people go to an art museum in their free time just to look at fine pieces curated by people who have an obsession for old pictures or to dress up to match the aesthetic and pretend that they know what the hell they’re talking about. 

Given how you’ve dressed up for the occasion, they’d probably be right.

Gaeul herself matches the look so well. Her stilettos are one thing, but the bright-colored skirt along with her high socks are doing wonders for highlighting her legs, with her old-fashioned pink top that looks to be from the Victorian era simply bolsters the elegance past your personal rating scale. She’s also got her slightly-thick-rimmed glasses and the low braided ponytail wrapped in a small bow at the end. You can’t deny it, she’s gorgeous. The kind of girl that’s hard to come by and you’ve struck yourself out of the ballpark by getting her here. She walks at a pace, her strut consistent and punctuated with the way her feet are carrying her. It doesn’t help with the fact that you keep thinking about how you’d hold her hanging ponytail when her head is between your legs, or how she’d let you take off her socks with solely your teeth and show that you do more than just run your mouth. You stand behind her by a few inches and just watch that amazing side profile of hers, molded and chiseled by God himself. 

Her eyes stay fixed on the piece in front of her. Blinking. Examining. You resist the urge to stand behind her and bury your nose in the back of her head. 

You look away for a second only to hear her sigh, and watch as her arms cross over her middle. The stance alone can tell you that she’s the kind of girl that will do damage to you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t know,” says Gaeul, looking left to notice you approach her left side, pointing her lips back to the art piece as you give it a fraction of your attention - staring at Gaeul with the corner of your eyes, thinking of all the ideas your hands could have on her pretty face, her small hands, lifting her by the waist when she hugs you. “This isn’t the actual ‘Starry Night’ painting, is it?” 

You laugh, because the question itself was supposed to be rhetorical. “No, it is. Not a replica. The real thing.” 

“No, but look,” Gaeul slips her hand around your arm and pulls you closer while she points out to the painting again with her finger. You’ve had crushes on girls throughout high school and college, but there’s a sense of a pull here that’s different from the rest. “This is something that you would do, hm?” 

You lean more closely at the painting and feel her face rest along the line of your upper arm. The picture itself was a mix of these yellow circles over a blue canvas - you think - has to do something about admiring the view that nature presents, which explains the artist’s approach with the usage of the abnormal brushstrokes. “Right.” You get the underlying appeal of the painting’s message, that’s for sure. 

Gaeul giggles, humming a sound too elegant and pretty for its own sake. You’re playing it cool as best you can. It’s a lot to keep track of her sparkling eyes so full of you within them that you’re nervous to even speak a coherent sentence. She looks dangerously good in her outfit: hugging the curves, the collars and ends of her sleeves dancing in these wavy, coquettish lines. That hint of lace she’s wearing is also cute - only for it to be outshined by her exposed collarbones and neck. 

(So, you might be insane here. Try acting differently about it all you want. It’s no use.)

Gaeul then looks at the art piece adjacent to the right - twists her head behind, eyeing the walkway, her gaze now matching yours, cocking her head to the side with her lips pursed. 

“Hmm?” she hums, innocently. There’s a minute tug at the corners of her mouth, a small smile. Her teeth start to peek under her upper lip. 

You’re holding your breath here for a second or two longer. 

“Uh, I didn’t say anything,” you tell her, pulling your lips inward to hide your returning smirk. 

Before you and her move to the next room, you’ve deduced that a woman like Gaeul is no mere anomaly. She is intangible, quixotic, reserved, sensible, and the kind of person who doesn’t let anyone get too close for her comfort. There’s a motivation to be seen with her, the way that her grin and shrug of her singular shoulder gives you the implication that she’s into you. Your gaze goes inquisitive when she’s sashaying timidly further and further away from your sight. 

–

Let’s take a step back here - go to the drawing board, make a new page. There’s substantial progress here. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to have your input solicited. 

Gaeul looks through her handbag, pulls out various items, puts on hand cream and retouches the makeup on her face. You’re on the other end of the table, watching her, listening to the guy nearby do a fantastic take of Take Five on the saxophone with flying colors. Gaeul’s also waving her head from side to side, closing her eyes with a soft smile spread across her lips implying that she likes the music. 

As for the art museum trip itself, you don’t take anything away from what you were supposed to look at and write down - probably because the focus shifted from taking notes to getting a conversation going with Gaeul whenever she was curious about a certain piece or at least your interpretation of what work itself. One of the other pieces that you and her take notice of was from your courses that you don’t remember learning a mere inkling about. A piece from the romanticism era revolved around these two lovers, one of them being madly in love while the other is still trying to figure out their feelings and desires, or vice versa; it may be unappealing for your outlook in artistry, but once you saw the meaning behind the paintbrush and use of strokes, the feeling hits too close to home. 

“From this artwork, what do you want us to take away from it,” someone probably asked back then - the same kind of question that earns a few eye rolls and those heavy sighs used to hide the bubbling frustration within, gets a good number of people scratching the back of their head - though nobody answers it right away unless it’s the professor. 

“Well, that’s not for me to decide,” the professor answers, earning a subtle nod of the head by her, the way the shade of her hair shimmers in the room and how it flows at the turn of her head, glimpses of her skin for you to admire once she has nothing left to say, almost like she was speaking those words to you - waiting for your answer. “The personal interpretation of the painting has to be discovered on your own.” 

In a way, he has a valid point. He’s knowledgeable enough to know what he preaches. He’s passionate about this course alone and it really could take a simple business pitch with a pen to get on board with what he’s selling. 

You have an idea of what message he’s trying to get across, but maybe you’ve got it all mixed up in between still. 

–

The groove of discovery isn’t a straightforward, linear path. Some days your understanding is there, and other times it’s all up in the air; you’re stopping by a food truck near some plaza in the early hours of the evening off the gut feeling that it just feels right; you also find yourself staring at her wide eyes when she gets the first taste of those potato chips she convinced you to buy, wiping a corner of her lips with her tongue. 

It’s almost too good to be true, honestly, that she’s sitting next to you at a park bench as the sky above is painted in these hues of purple and orange to reflect off the sunset, her appearance mimicking royalty and you - her knight in shining armor. She looks up to the sky before offering you her bag of chips, the tilt of her head and how she blinks is so - unbelievably enchanting like she’s unintentionally guilt-tripping you even though you’ve done nothing wrong at all. You take up on her offer, keep a mental note of how she’s so attentive in the way that your hands move and the way that your lips punctuate each letter and phrase so eloquently. Her bottom lip is pulled back into her mouth, holding the foil in her fingers so delicately. 

You can easily tell. She’s enamored; she keeps hitting your arm lightly and plays along with your inside jokes; there’s also that smirk she does in embarrassment and tries to hide away from but you’re still staring at her anyway. 

She stays close to you. Comfortable. Exactly the way you want her to be. You could kiss here right and now and she might be okay with it. You’ll try it eventually, because why not? 

Later, Gaeul walks slightly ahead of you, turns around, and takes your hands in hers, standing on her tiptoes to somewhat match your height. “I’m curious about your eyes, how they look,” she says, not that she meant for it to be embarrassing, but something that she’s noticed the first time and now she can’t ignore it. “They’re enchanting.” 

“Your smile,” you say back. She flashes that exact smile, wearing it with pride. “I like when you smile that way.” 

“My smile is always like this.” 

You sweep her off her feet and twirl yourself around. A finger pulls some of her hair behind her ear, grazing a thumb across her temple, careful enough to not ruin the surface. 

Gaeul looks up. Her head leans into the touch of your hand, inviting. 

This is where it all starts; a genesis of sorts: you drink in the sight of how she is right now, half-lidded eyes, her hands slipping behind to the back of your neck, pulling you in; you, leaning into her body, hands sliding and dipping to the curves where she wants you to hold, keep her in your grasp and unravel her bit by bit; it’s fine to be skeptical, figuring out something new is all part of the learning process. 

You turn your imagination into a reality when you finally kiss her. 

The pull of her into you elicits this gentle hum rumbling within her lips. Given how her fingertips were clawing into your scalp for a second there, she didn’t even put up a fight to begin with. 

The realization of losing her also sets in for a quick moment, the silence alone holding out for longer than it initially should. She continues to blink, teeth capturing the upper profile of her lip just slightly. You might be a bit too forward, but you’re waiting to see what she thinks before you consider dialing it back. 

“That’s not fair-” she stutters, tongue to the inside of her cheek, laughing and then tapping your shoulder soon after. “Normally, I- I’d hold out until we got a little farther with how things are currently.” You also notice that she’s not opting to be let go from your touch, or give you this look of confusion with wide-open eyes or a hand covering her mouth. Her fingertip traces along her lips, internalizing what had just happened. “Don’t tell me you’ve been wanting to do that since the second you saw me earlier. ‘Cause if you were, then I’m in really deeper shit than I expected.” 

“Might be right,” you mumble. “Sorry, I’m not the kind of person to half-ass things. Not my style.” 

“Troublesome,” Gaeul whispers across your lips. You steal a kiss from her again, and this time she gives you a shocked expression. “Hey, again-” 

You’re laughing, rightfully so. She’s pulled into your arms as you spin her around - hearing her laugh also when she’s cradling your head, bringing her back down to earth only for her to kiss you the next second, with more force and tongue. She doesn’t stop there. She keeps on kissing, prompting you to give a fair fight. It’s free reign for her - first, the cheek, then the line of your jaw, and the spot where your chin and neck meet that sends your mind reeling. 

Gaeul then takes one more kiss before the bus makes its eventual stop, pulling you by the wrist to get inside and take one of the seats at the end of the car, away from whoever might take notice. From there she picks up where she left off; her legs are swung over yours, her fingers keep your head in place as she’s placing these sweaty kisses all over your face once more, causing you to rope her in and slide a hand underneath her shirt to her chest. 

“Putting the effort where it counts, huh?” she says when you shift her hips closer to yours. Her giggles are also so pretty that it matches the hot blush colored across her face. 

You look over to the rest of the bus, take into account that there was one other person on the opposite end towards the front with their back turned. “Did you have any other place in mind where you want me to do this?” 

“No,” Gaeul responds with an absorbed smirk. “Not at all, I like what you’re doing so far,” she’s telling you, upholding with a press of her forehead against yours. “It’s riling me up a bit, actually.” 

“Oh? That so?” 

Gaeul nods, leaning in for a much softer peck this time, wiping a wisp of your hair. “Don’t be shy, keep going.” 

You blink twice at the surprising request, figuring out how to handle this situation - let alone what to say or even do at this point. All of that doesn’t matter when all she wants is you. One second later you’re kissing her again - with much more force through every passing press of your lips until the only thing that she can manage is to tilt her chin up and keep on receiving. Two more pecks couldn’t hurt, and she’s giggling when her hand’s patting your chin, kissing her palm to return the favor. 

“How am I doing now?” You ask her again, pressing another kiss to her neck right where the pulse courses rapidly underneath. 

Gaeul’s breaths here are dragged out and unshackled; you’re already thinking ahead of what she’ll sound like when she’s reduced to a moaning mess asking for more. She’s on track there but it’ll take a little bit. She nods - and holds your head at bay, “Okay.” That first response is controlled, feeling out the situation. “Okay,” she repeats, her teeth are peeking out across that pretty little mouth of hers. The hum in her throat drops an octave: “you’re doing really good.” 

Like you needed any other form of implication; the way that she’s playfully scratching your scalp, eagerly leaning for another kiss, this is good stuff you’re doing. Stay in the pocket with her, and continue doing those same things. 

You have to hear that sound from her again. No. You need to hear that sound come out of that sweet mouth, as you slide your hand between her closed legs - pull her closer, closer - and get her within your reach once your palm slips beneath her skirt, feel the sudden hook of her arms around your neck keep her in place. She presses her legs together, trying to maintain the heat in her panties once your fingertips get their first touches. Gaeul hums into your lips, encouraging you, and gives the go-ahead as she opens the space wider in the middle of her thighs for you to capture - her body much rucked up against yours, trying so hard to not come loose. You’ll double down on the reassurance, that’s for sure. 

“Fingers, your fingers,” Gaeul grits, hissing; she’s unraveling. “Holy fuck-” 

Her fingers are well wrapped to the nape of your neck. You can see her brows furrowed together - the lines of her face crinkling; only for them to disappear entirely, relaxed. She forgets about reality for a moment when you slot your lips perfectly with hers, sinking two of your fingers right down the knuckle of her sopping cunt. You watch as she looks down, lips parted to an ‘o’ shape. 

“Fuck, that’s-” she’s babbling, putting her mouth back up with yours - forcing down a moan into your throat, trying to figure out the next thing to say. “Forget what I said, that’s amazing.” 

She pulls her in close as much as possible, hips bucking and jerking when your fingers glide gently between her folds, at the slit. It’s worth noting that the gentler your strokes are, the worse it is for her - so you keep the pace slow for now, waste as much time as you can, dip a finger inside, and focus on the graveled breathing by her through every passing second. 

“You like that, hm?” You’re telling her. “Gotta say, you’re fucking wet.” 

Gaeul tenses her shoulders. “I know,” she whispers, thighs closing around your hand. You’re kissing her again - open tongue and head tilted back when you bring another digit into play - her moans are hot, curling your fingers inside and pressing at the clit to keep her from thinking straight, pressing at the hottest point in her body until Gaeul eventually buries herself in your neck, stifling her whimpers when she’s cumming all over your fingers. 

“Wow,” you say, breathlessly, smiling as she leans up gingerly to put a kiss to your chin, a job well done.

“Yeah,” mumbles Gaeul. “Yeah.” 

You look over to see the person sitting on the opposite end of the car, their back still turned and hunched over; you take that as a hint that they’re probably knocked out cold. Gaeul’s fingers pull your gaze back into her, her face hot pink. She’s got this lazy smile spread on her lips, breathing with her hand palmed to your cheek, eyes dazed and out of focus. 

You then decide that you can’t help yourself anymore. Laying her down on the seat and eating her pussy out right here. You can’t stop thinking about it, looking up as her upper half crumbles while she cums on your face. She can try to make you stop if her brain isn’t partly mush, can try all she wants to stop you kissing from down her waist and into her thighs or wrapping your fingers around her legs once you’ve got your mouth clamped to her cunt like it’s nothing - you’ve got her laid back and relaxed, hands sliding south past her middle, thinking of all the pretty noises that you can squeeze from that heavenly voice of hers - Gaeul looks up once her hands meet yours at her hips, unwilling to let you go. 

You smile at her before you’re biting your lips without thinking twice. 

The way that she says your name too, does something to your brain, man. She needs you. 

You almost feel bad to be the one asking for permission first: 

“If I eat you out right here, Gaeul. Promise me that you’ll be quiet?” 

Gaeul’s mouth drops, before twisting into a devilish grin. 

She looks over to the same person you were looking at, lip captured by her teeth. “Worth a try,” she answers, still coming down from her high. Her eyes stay on you. The lust one can get is dangerously intoxicating - it may not look good on others, besides her - the shade of hot pink, her little swollen lips, the way that she has to use her fingernail to bite down. But her hand gently clutches your wrist. “Would you be nice if I said to go easy on me?” 

You snort at the question, only because her pleading eyes sell the whole deal to you anyway. 

“Asking a lot from me here, darling. No guarantees,” you tell her and descend between her spread legs. 

–

You keep spacing out since then: of her, the grip of her fingers deep in your hair; grinding her hips against your face as she’s trying to not yelp or shriek to not wake the poor guy sleeping - now completely giddy and well-relieved. She tried to crush your skull from the tongue fucking you were doing to her just ten or so minutes ago. Not to mention the cursing, it’s hard to believe she can say stuff like that. 

She also tells how thoughtful you are walking her back to her place; you know the area well enough to make your way back. You tell her that it’s nothing if anything, it was just more time to spend with you. 

Gaeul smiles at that, fixing up her hair like anyone would to keep her hands moving. Her eyes shoot towards the ground before they flashback up at you, which she’ll admit is a bit awkward for her standards. You can’t stop staring at her; she’s that pretty. It’d be worth preaching about for the rest of your life if it ever came to that. 

She hands you her phone and you’re doing the same -  a simple transaction. The subtle question of ‘it’s okay to call you on this, right?’ rolls off your teeth so easily to where Gaeul gives you a nod to answer. There’s a little bit of wiggle room to grow - filling in the gaps with details as we go - things that will be logged in eventually all with time. 

“I’ll be as blunt as possible: I want something fun,” she tells you as if she already had the general idea swirling around your head. Her fingers are fiddling with the zipper of your jacket. As if she wanted to say it differently but ended up with that. A lifeline or rope for you to hold on to - aware that the threads are tearing just a bit, but you’ll grab it anyway because you can. “I’ll bite at whatever you throw at me. Who knows, maybe I’ll do the same to even the odds.” 

Slapping a title or caption to this doesn’t always end well - if you’re gonna be honest, it’s impossible to tell whether or not it’ll go the way you hoped for. 

“You sure?” you’re asking, smiling. Since that’s the kind of trap that you were hoping to fall into anyway. In the face of love, you’ve always found yourself folding right at the first hurdle. 

Especially adding onto the fact that you and Gaeul have known each other to a slight degree; through mutuals, to be more specific. That’s one of the weird things that life can work with: instilling these thoughts about someone and telling them things knowing that it could all go wrong down the line; Gaeul rests her forearms on your shoulders, lets her fingers dance along the back of your head, and nod again with a yeah, you’re already infatuating to me as it already is. It’s so bad, she’s never dressed like this before when you’ve seen her with Liz or Wonyoung for that matter. Her chest and collarbones are out in the open air for you to mark up without remorse, tilting her head back with an arched eyebrow and sly smirk, don’t test me, because believe me, I’m gonna ruin your life from here on out. 

You may as well be far gone from the start. 

–

“It’s not that important,” you’re telling Gaeul over on FaceTime, tossing your phone onto the mattress and stretching out your limbs. Gaeul on the other end, groans in annoyance, though her voice is composed, playful. “I think we’re just stuck on a few things from what it looks like.” 

“But this project with Yujin is also one you mentioned a while back to me,” Gaeul responds, forehead filling the phone screen to check what you were doing, but all she sees is the ceiling. “What are you guys trying to achieve again?” 

“What would you do if you were assigned to discover a brand new constellation or galaxy all by yourself? You ask. “Spoiler alert: it’s a lot harder than it sounds.” 

“Maybe next time you should bring me to the observatory, that way I can see what it is you’re looking for,” Gaeul says with a lovely hum and laughs at the end of it.

She’s so cute when she’s playful; her voice alone is enough to make your brain chemistry go haywire. 

“Well, uh- you know Yujin,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “This is important to her. I honestly think that she’s trying to compartmentalize everyone that’s involved, which is a bit of an overreaction I think.” 

Gaeul then sighs, as if she too, is frustrated. “She’s a hard worker. From the outside looking in, maybe she just needs somebody to make her life interesting. Do you know what I mean? I think she’s sex deprived.” 

“You-” and you scrunch your nose, trying to hide a genuine laugh because you’ve been trying to say something along those lines to Yujin for god knows how long, and Gaeul flat-out said it in a matter of days. “You’re not wrong.” You then see her put the phone down facing up on the nightstand. “Her timetable is very slim, so I get why she can’t afford to have any distractions.” 

“Someone like her should always make time for sex.” 

“Are you always this forward?” 

“Not always, might be just for you.” 

“Consider me lucky,” you muse, tongue to the inside of your bottom lip. 

“You boys think of nothing else besides getting between a girl’s legs, huh?

Gaeuls face returns to the screen and all you give her is a pull of your lips inward. She nods when you don’t say anything, proving her suspicions right. You set her off to the side while you keep doing a separate thing to keep yourself occupied while she does the same. While you’re tending to your notes, you imagine Gaeul to be walking around her room; sitting on her bed, or moving to the bathroom or kitchen - keeping a close eye and ear on you and your voice because she’s got a fix on a few interests of yours that outweighs her own. She watches while you give her a few glances here and there. Staying on task was going to be difficult. You text her your address to pass the information without giving a reason as to why. You probably fucked up in that regard. You might’ve. 

(She puts a heart icon on the message to send your mind for a loop, telling you to think of it lightly; hey, show me what’s on the shelf behind you, see if you make your bed in the morning - and you’re carrying a conversation with her for more than an hour or so. She’s asking different kinds of questions; the ones that are along the lines of: How come you don’t have a roommate with you, where do you go for groceries, what’s the distance between your place and mine? The curiosity grows to uncover the mystery, you think. She’s laughing when you flash a look at her on the screen before you carry on with whatever task you are doing, acting all candidly when the both of you know well that you’re doing everything to not press the ‘end call’ button.)

“Wait,” Gaeul breathes, leaning closer through the phone screen. “Didn’t you offer to show me what you were working on over some food?” 

You’re side-eyeing away, hiding a smile. “I did mention that at the beginning but, yeah.” 

“Shoot, okay,” she huffs, dropping her face so that you only see the top of her head, pulling your lips inward to hide the smile. “How bout this: lace or no lace?” 

“Woah.” You freeze. “Hang on now.”

“Do you want me to explain it to you?” You could feel the slow-burning rush of heat spread across your cheeks. The phone screen flashes in your hand, and she chuckles. “Easy, cowboy. I know you want to jump the gun with me, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts before I do anything else.” 

You’re picturing it once she’s managed to break you, bending down to slip her panties back on, stretching the ends until she lets go and the fabric slaps along her skin. She can’t see it, but your mind goes under. When Gaeul presents it so innocently in the way that it is, it’s hard to believe that she’s able to bend your ego with a few simple words and actions. 

“The image of lace - on your body? I wouldn’t share that with anyone else.” 

She rolls her eyes, and hums a sing-song tone to tease you. “Alright, don’t tell me you’re getting hard just at the thought of that.” You drop your jaw and that earns you a deadpan. “Would you mind if I surprise you with a color of my choice?” 

“You know my color. Well- I don’t think too much of the color. I’m easy to impress,” you reply, nonchalant. 

“Oh, I can take my time with the color. It’s just a matter of how long you can hold out.” She’s not posing it as a threat, but the low tone in the delivery is enough to instill a small fear in the back of your mind. 

“Pfft, that doesn’t scare me.” 

“We’ll see about that. When do you want me to come?” she asks, genuinely. 

You make eye contact with her to ensure she’s serious. 

“I mean,” you start. The more your mouth freezes, the more embarrassing it gets. “Whenever you can. If you’re free.” 

Here, Gaeul tilts her head, confident smirk and tongue to her cheek. “Maybe my punishment is to make you wait. I don’t like the dry response and straight face on top of it. That’s not your look.” 

“What do you even achieve out of doing that?” you ask. “You’re holding me out from-” 

“Yes, you’ll get between my legs again like last time. But I think you can give me more than that, which I’m sure about. Make me scream until I lose my voice or I somehow lose the ability to walk. Does that sound good to you?” 

Part of you likes the fact that she’s got no filter; speaking her mind whenever it feels right.

“Sounds like a test to me,” you muse, taking the challenge head-on. You’re not the kind to back away, let alone have any reason to impress her. You’ll prove your point again when the time is right. 

“Give me twenty minutes,” she says to you. The information comes as need to know, anticipatory. You’re teasing her to get here faster: come to my place sooner and we can skip the boring exposition and do more interesting stuff together. “I promise not to keep you waiting.”

–

The time ticks a lot faster and when you realize it, three or four knocks are sounding off on your right. A scuffle of your socks, a swing of the door later, and voila: Gaeul’s in the middle of your doorway, reflecting the same head tilt you’re giving her before she leans forward for a few kisses. It’s real-life b-roll footage, the snapshots and captured moments of love that everyone longs for in some way or another; you’re living in it. 

“Mhm,” she hums, arms well wrapped around your neck with wrists stacked. She smells good, her body lighter than usual, letting you pull her closer because she knows you will. “Looks like somebody missed me.” 

“Uh uh,” you breathe, laughing in the open space of your mouths, shuffling into the apartment some more, stumbling. Gaeul’s keeping her attire easy with a pair of baggy bottoms that’ll slip so easily out of her legs once you get her to stop moving- 

“I’ll have you know that I thought long and hard about what to wear,” adds Gaeul, standing still and taking her sneakers off one foot at a time, her hair pooling from one side to the other. “But then it hit me, why not just keep it casual?” 

“Explains the comfy combo,” you’re telling her. You don’t even realize the bag brandished on her shoulder. “Is that-” 

“Exactly what it looks like. I don’t have anything tomorrow, so I figured I’d use my downtime more wisely.” 

This is fun. Sure, it’s the playful banter, mixed in with the flirting. You’re using every self-restraint you’ve got in your head to not pin her over on the couch and put her hips against yours. 

You simply can’t help it. The law of attraction that’s taking place: you like her, and it can’t get any more complicated than that. You’re positive that she feels the same way - to some extent. She rubs the neckbone at the nape, twiddles the ends of your hair. The smile she has is infectious, watches as your eyes wander across the lines of her face, almost like you discovered fire. Gaeul’s lips then fall flat, nodding. This is the second or third time you’re seeing her exclusively, each one more exciting than the last. 

“Hungry?” 

Gaeul shakes her head, “Hm, kinda.” 

“You’re in luck,” you beam. “I was gonna whip something up anyway.” 

“Aw, how thoughtful.” She tells you when you’re setting her down, walking over to the dining table with her setting her bag down, following not too far behind. While you’re getting yourself situated, she takes the time to let her head look and observe all the things organized on your shelves and tables, a peek into the inner workings of what makes you tick. You could feel her gaze on you once you’ve got yourself situated at the stove and she finally settles down at the kitchen island, opposite from you with a front-row seat. 

You throw a towel on your shoulder, playing the measly bartender part loosely. “Water?” 

Gaeul blinks, hums a noise serving as a yes. 

“This is just for starters,” you tell her, sliding a glass across the marble before eying the brandy resting at the top of the fridge. “If you want, we can get the good drinks later when we’re bored.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Want me to explain why Yujin’s project has been a pain in my ass as of recently?” 

She dips her head down, hiding her smile. 

“I think I can think of a few reasons why she can be a handful for some people,” she says, sipping a bit of the water before she gestures her head to the fridge, wanting to get right to business without wasting any time. “But you care a little too much, so we need to ease your mind a little.” 

“Just trying to not be overbearing; because she’s a piece of work, but I love working with her regardless,” you tell her. Next thing you know the brandy’s been brought down on the counter. While you’re doing that, you’re finding the gaps in her schedule. When’s the next time you’re free? There’s the proposal that you’ll bring her out for a nice picnic, drinks with charcuterie, maybe toss in painting to the mix while you’ll blatantly stare at her cottagecore dress with a wine glass in her hand- 

“Are these your notes?” She asks, pulling one of your many notebooks closer to flip through the pages, looking at the different constellations that are already there, the ones that are easy to recognize. Her eyes dart to you when you’re sliding over a different cup filled with brandy for her to take, taking a sip while you glance over at the two sandwiches on your pan. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is quite a lot of work she has you doing.” 

“The name of the game, essentially,” you’re grinning, transferring over a tablet with pictures of different stars and galaxies from an album you curated. Some are straight out of a textbook, the others you and Yujin have found on separate occasions. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re actually a nerd?” Gaeul asks, mockingly, swiping the screen as you give her an unimpressed expression. 

You crowd behind her shoulder, going through the gallery, leaning her head against yours as your nose brushes her cheek, sighing in approval. Your hands have a mind of their own, slithering around her waist, planting a kiss on her neck - just to tease. Hey, you’re not fooling anyone here. 

“So you’re telling me that Yujin’s been trying to find a constellation of love somewhere in the stars instead of an actual person? Okay-” she holds in her laugh, leaning into your touch with another kiss. “Sorry, I- I can’t help myself, she’s a handful with this.” 

“Food’s ready, by the way,” you tell her. “I can talk about my side of things in the meantime.” 

–

Gaeul, effortless as she is, listens attentively. 

Her elbows are on the table top, most of the sandwich eaten as she keeps her eyes fixated on you. She watches while you’re giving her the basic rundown of what’s going on with your work life to the best of your ability - stops you midway, points to a spot under the corner of your lip, prompting you to check it yourself, which you do. By some klutzy move, you miss it - probably on purpose, enabling her into telling you to lean closer for her to wipe it herself, and with a downward tilt of your face, she hides away for a moment. It’s that implication of playfulness that gives way to curiosity, that sense of restlessness where sex was always going to be the eventual inevitability.  She wipes whatever was on your chin with her thumb, and keeps it there. Next thing you know, her lips are on yours. 

You’re fighting the press of her lips, leaning forward. Her hands suddenly palm your chest, pushing you back into the chair; the conquest picks up when she straddles herself on top of your hips, grazing her lips and nose across your face. The rush itself dies down for a bit - taking the sweet time of tasting each other’s lips and sucking the air out of one another. 

For someone like her to kiss you so eagerly. You’d let her do just that. 

Her jacket gets taken off smoothly, and her bottoms are pulled a bit to where you can see a hint of her underwear, holding her by the hips. 

The fucking lace, alright. She looks unreal the way it hugs her figure. 

At this point you’re just hypnotized by her hands and lips, undoing some of the buttons on your shirt, sliding her way down until the trail of kisses reaches the lower regions. Your pants and boxers pool at your ankles, kicking them off. She kisses the inside of your thighs, lets her breath coat your balls before a lick of the underside shifts your hips forward to the edge of the chair. Her pretty little mouth reaches your tip, delicately kissing it; she knows what the fuck she’s doing. 

“You’ve been fantasizing about this for a little, haven’t you?” Gaeul teases, pleased. She grins when she wraps her fingers at the base, sighs when you hiss some of the air out your lungs. Her breasts are fighting the bra containing them. She then opens her mouth a bit, drops her head, sinks - fuck. The seal alone is just the right amount of pressure. “How much am I willing to bet you yanked one out after our first date?” 

Your midsection tenses, balling your fists because there’s nothing else you would rather do than push your hips upward and fill her throat; not to shut her up, but give her an idea of what she’s in for if she doesn’t play nice. 

You know that she won’t. 

“Well- you’re right. I did exactly that. How did you-” you blow air out instantaneously when she moves down halfway to your shaft, her eyes rolling back as she’s forcibly choking down your cock. Some of the spit leaks out of her mouth, coating the skin, soaking her bottom lip. Some of it lands on her chest. 

“-ust my kind of guess. Now how much are you willing to bet you’ll ruin me with this cock of yours?” she asks once more, giving you no time to answer when she’s putting her head between your legs, suffocating herself before popping her lips off the tip, slapping your shaft across her cheek. “Shouldn’t take you that long, huh?” 

The way she’s smiling while talking you through this filth, it’s gonna break you. You need her. You need her mouth right back on your fucking cock before she entertains the idea of blue balling you to oblivion. “I’m slightly worried that you won’t be able to handle this. Maybe I should just hop on your cock and let you have your fun while you fill me up-” 

“So f-fucking bad, you are,” you grit, stuttering. 

Consider this as karma coming full circle: Gaeul breaking you just by her being on her knees, lapping away your cock while you had your fun eating her out in the back of the bus back to her place less than forty-eight hours ago, holding her close while you made a mess of her underwear with your fingers. She was trying so hard to be quiet, covering her mouth while you were fucking her open. 

“Aw, that’s unfortunate,” she tells you, dropping her mouth again, hand cupping beneath your balls, working her way down your shaft even more. 

Her bobs are meticulous and calculated. The levels of stimulation are over the scale you drew up in your head, and when she gets her other hand in the fun - twisting the base while the one at your balls are being squeezed, you draw your head back against the chair. 

It’s all in the slow buildup: the soft pumps, the occasional spit slathered as the sound of skin on skin becomes even more obscene. Her fingers coil your base when she takes you in that enveloping heat, humming down your cock until you feel the gentle graze of her teeth on the topside, eyes open and going cross-eyed. You’re struggling to come to terms that this girl was the same girl that was dressed up so nicely and princess-like in the art museum asking you and wondering what was the meaning of all these pieces. 

But then you’re reminded, that all of it is just the surface level of certain things - once you get to know someone, you learn as you go along with them. Gaeul just blinks through every move of her head at your hips, coating your cock endlessly and teasing to the point where she wants to see that side of you that you’re capable of showing her - to make you bust over and over again until you filled up her cunt where she’s begging for more, watch as she gets herself off if you’re away from her for too long, break her like it’s meant to be a daily routine from here on out - which will happen, Gaeul’s good enough to get you there sooner than you think, her pretty little lips, her dainty hands, that fucking tongue - you’ll get back at her for breaking you. 

“Sweetie, okay.” You gasp when she bottoms out your cock, groaning aloud that she’s smiling into the length. She keeps working with her hands and mouth, takes a moment to breathe, fingers sliding nice and easy along the slick skin. Staring at you. “Gaeul, please-” 

She’s close to getting you there; begging, and you manage to get a hand to her cheek, hold her face while she sinks her lips back on your cock again. Fuck. You might be too far gone already. Her teeth press down on the skin of your dick and you let out a noise showing another sign of just how good she’s making you lose it. Some of your fingers card her hair, like you’re clawing for a grip on the side of a rock and you swear that your cockhead swells at the top of her throat - you’re left speechless. You’re pretty sure that you can see stars. 

Gaeul smacks your tip across her lips, smiles as she does so. “You love my mouth, don’t you? I bet you’re just dying to cum all over my fingers and make me apologize for not letting you have your fun. Sucks to be you.” 

“Fucking-” you spit. She swipes her tongue on her lower lip, kisses your shaft the second after. Her index and thumb tighten around your base. “Gaeul, I swear-” 

“What? Had enough already?” 

Forget what you assumed about Gaeul. This version of her at your feet blows the performance right out of the water. 

All that boldness; that wit and snark while playing it cool, she swept it all under the rug from you. Anything she does or says to you, she knows that you’ll twist yourself into giving in to what she wants. Bratty might be one way to conclude - the way she hides her pert smile when you can easily tell that it’s a teasing grin. She looks at your shaft so earnestly as she jerks it around her hand, testing the girth and thickness of it when she finally decides enough is enough and tells you to plug that sorry little hole up that is her throat. The choice to paint your mess over her face or drain it down her mouth is up to you; you’ll ruin her just to satisfy your selfish ego. 

“I could just let you, ya know,” she leans more into your palm while her tongue laves across the skin of your balls, breath hot and heavy in the same way her eyelashes bat at you so innocently. “Let you fuck my face and fill my mouth up with this cock. You’ve been good enough for me, I think I just might.” 

She leans back and unclips her bra, revealing her tits; nice and perky, her rosy pink nipples too - you’ll mark her up when you get the chance. Her hands go to her hair, tying it like some party trick that only takes a few seconds, leans down to your stomach and kisses it, licking downwards just enough to make you snap. 

Your hand’s fast to grab the ponytail on the back of Gaeul’s head. 

“Thought you said you’d let me take over,” you tell her. And then: “there we go, look at that. So pretty when your mouth is full of my cock,” you hiss, guiding her down along your shaft, dragging your hips down and up into the addicting clench of her throat. You pull yourself out and smack your tip across her face, smearing the spit and precum. She wants the mess: “Gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you.” 

When she sinks again, you lose focus for a moment. 

“Mmphgh,” she hums, gripping your wrist. “Mmmuugh.” 

“Not so tough now if you can’t talk.” You almost feel bad. It’s unfair how she can still look up at you and smile at the corner of her lips, keeping her gaze leveled as you sink her mouth on your shaft - you thrusting upwards to meet in the middle. She’s handling it like a champ, and it takes a bit for someone to take you whole. 

A drag up, down, then up. She’s halfway on your shaft, rises, goes deeper - you could see her upper lip clamp down at the base, cheeks puffing up to dispel the air. Her head shakes a bit, struggling; sucking her cheeks soon after - god. The blush is a lot more apparent now, her eyes filled with lust. You give her a little bit of breathing room while you crash her face back down on your shaft. 

“Fuck yes,” you groan, feeling her velvety mouth, taking all of you. She inhales sharply when you slip out of her - only for her to take you back in as you pick up with the thrusts with every shove of her head back down. 

You are trying, so hard, to not fuck anything up - fucking her face - you’re pretty sure you feel a little lightheaded. Her gaze is hazy, gasping every few seconds or so through the gags before you up the intensity once more. How is she even prettier like this? She has no right. Not when the noises and current actions are this debauched. 

“Mmnph?” She hums, the vibration tremoring on the skin. The clamp of her lips at the base again doesn’t help, but when she slides her tongue along the underside- 

“Jesus, Gaeul-” 

Fuck. She inhales your cock to the hilt and swipes her tongue across the same spot where her lip can’t reach. Rough. 

“Mmph hmm.” 

“Relax your jaw, baby,” and she does so, holding you where the clench is the hottest. She squints her eyes as you move her head side to side, the gagging more punctuated through the wet sounds. Ah fuck-

She makes it so, so easy for you. You’ve got just enough to hold yourself back, tugging at her ponytail while she adjusts her mouth over your length - mindlessly bobbing that makes you forget for a second and get lost in the overwhelming wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You’d do anything for her, she’d do anything for you: even if making her a slut was part of the process. 

If we’re being honest here, she wouldn’t have gone this far for you to fuck her mouth - like, a well-practiced and simple blowjob from her could’ve been enough for you to lose it - but if she prefers things this way, how her wide eyes keep looking at you with your hand in her hair, she’ll keep it up until you eventually dump your cum all over her tongue. 

You just have to, soon, and you will. Gaeul guides her other hand to yours, giving you free reign - sending her mouth to you. She does it with such grace, so beautifully, the arousal catches you by surprise. 

Her hands slide to your sides, gripping. Goddamnit, it’s clustered all over her face: the rosy cheeks, the swollen mouth, the sound of her mewling and gagging once you’re upping the pace of your thrusts, spit spread all over her face and chest that makes her skin shine, her hair around the tie becoming more and more messier. 

She will make you insane. 

“Mhm mhm,” she sputters out because it takes her a while for her to coherently say it, probably since her cheeks are so full of cock you pull yourself out to the point there are webs of spit plastered over your shaft and on her lips. 

You’re trying to hold it together. Gaeul, not so much - breathing staggered before she nudges her lips along your cockhead again, opens wide, and slides her way back down, the hypnotizing movement of drool with every deepthroat stroke she does on you. 

“Gaeul,” you call out, breathlessly. Her gags just keep on coming, and your hands find themselves in a familiar place yet again. 

She forces your hand down, comes back up for air. You’re left speechless, stunned. She’s kissing up your cock - desperately in adoration, practically begging without being verbal about it. 

“I want it,” she whispers - drops her jaw again, and guides your hand with her head back down on your length. The friction alone hangs your mind in suspense. 

“Fuck my mouth,” she commands; her voice soothing. You don’t think twice when you sink her head back down on your cock, the warmth and plushness of it unfathomable to register in your fucked-out brain. When she comes back up, gasping for air: “Please, sir. Just like that.” 

So you grip her hair again. “Shit.” You pull at the root of her knot, let her graze her teeth along the slick surface of your cock. “Christ- Gaeul,” Her eyes red, mascara smeared, cheeks hollowed out once more as her throat rucks up the head of your shaft, taking you- all of you. 

Easing yourself into fucking her face wasn’t the way to go; it would be like shying away, saving yourself the embarrassment. Your ears close in on the sounds: the choking, the new layer of spit coated across your throbbing shaft. She’s so good with her lips - in the most fucked up way possible, the sloppier she is, the more happy she’ll be when you release your cum in her mouth or on her face. 

Whichever one happens first, that is, you’ll find out soon enough. 

“Gaeul-” you’re saying her name, sighing it out in reverence. “Close, baby. I’m so close-” 

It’s when she curls her bottom lip, the technique of her tongue sweeping that sensitive spot at the underside - it makes your vision focus at a fine point, she doesn’t let up with the gulps and gags, the delicious clench that makes you swallow nothing. Fuck, you feel it. She knows. With every passing drive of your hips, there’s enough wiggle room for her to breathe again. 

She’ll kill you if you let her do this more often. 

–

“Uhm,” you’re calling out to her again, noticing something out of place. “I don’t remember you asking for that.” 

Gaeul turns around, stretches the shirt on her like some bathrobe. It’s funny: the hem at the waistline covers the middle of her thighs, but somehow you can’t help but admit she looks cute in your clothes - even when she’s wiping away the cum and saliva with the collar and there’s no point in complaining. 

“Sorry, I thought you’d be okay with me having a small memento of you,” she says, pulling the fabric behind, molding it to her figure. There’s a playful hum she’s singing, wandering around your place like it’s her gallery, eyeing the trinkets and things that make you well- you. 

“Would you be cool if-” she adds, turning around in some coquettish ingénue pose, showing a bit of her panties that’s being engulfed by her ass. “-I made you cum a third time?” 

You give her a chuckle since that’s in the ballpark of recurring jokes or cute memories, somewhere along the lines of flirting like an idiot and fucking like rabbits. It’s getting there, the insight at least. 

Sure, have her keep the shirt. It looks good on her. She brought a change of clothes for the night anyway; God knows as to why but you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her around. 

“I’ll take that as a yes with how you’re staring at me still.” She muses a scrunch of her nose that simmers the cutesy, heart-fluttering, babyism sort of act that would make anyone, in particular, flash a look of confusion topped off with a subtle eye roll. 

She grabs your toothbrush and runs it through the faucet. You don’t say anything about that. 

The balls of her feet lift her heels, but she’s not slick with the small arch of her back and leans in towards the mirror. She’s careless, and that’s apparent with how the collarbone sticks out on the right side where the shirt pools. You give her a light laugh when you’re hugging her side, nestle your nose at her temple, patting her head. 

“Do -ou minth?” Gaeul sighs, smiling. “-m tryimph to cean mythelf ere.” The toothbrush hangs at the side of her mouth, minding her own business as you’re pulling a few wisps of her hair past her ear. “Should’ve closed the door on you when I had the chance. Didn’t expect you to be so clingy. You expect me to believe that you can be soft and bubbly when you just shoved your cock down my throat?” 

“Too much?” you ask. “I can dumb it down if you want.” 

She gives you a genuine shake of her head. No. “I don’t mind at all.” She spits out the paste into the sink for a new one, since she’s drooling it out. “It’s cute that you’re like this when it should be the opposite.” 

“Mmm. Bite me if you have a problem with it.” 

Gaeul then sighs when you bury your nose in her hair, rub the side of her waist, because it feels right. Her eyes follow you when you leave her be at the sink, let her spit out some more before brushing. 

–

A girl like Gaeul makes it difficult for you to come to grips with her small, yet lithe frame - how your hands rest neatly on the swell of her ass, fingertips cupping the indent. She’s not making this any better, palming your cock through your pants, or that cheeky smirk once her hand slithers past the elastic and wraps around you like it’s a lifeline. 

You also realize: how light she is, feeling her tits and having a moment of small joy when you manage to get a mouthful of her breast, mouth parting while you’re sucking on her mounds and nipples shamelessly to the point where she has to tug you by the hair to make you stop, grasp at that last bit of control. 

Marking up her chest serves as a viable response to her. 

“Careful now,” she tells you, mewling, head tipped forward - the stimulation quite a lot for her to handle. “A little aggressive, are we? Ah-” 

Like you’re the kind of person to take it easy, anyway. She says your name so prettily; the sensuality over a simple utterance, the breathlessness lying beneath the tone. You’ll fuck and treat her like she’s the only girl in the world and prove it in more ways than one. You’re on the eve of something big here: finding where her limbs and muscles tense, mark up her perfect skin and knock her up like she wants the filthy mess. There’s an unspoken safe word - a prompt or phrase of some kind. If or when she says: “I’m yours,” she tells you, eyes fluttering when you slip your two fingers in, guiding them to the tempo that she wants you to go. 

So she grinds on your fingers and cock whilst making out with you on your bed, eventually fucking her soon after, sheets and pillows tossed and used in the process; you slip some rubber on your cock and cum first before she does, and she’s a bit angry, pouty, coiling her arms and legs around your neck and shoulders until you give her what she wants - the time reads a little past midnight, she’s sprawled on the bed like some happy, sleepy puppy and sighs: “I’m starting to think you can’t handle me. My pussy’s just too good for you to have another round,” laughing as her knee rises and slides her heels along the mattress. 

“Maybe two or three will shut you up, I don’t know.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Gaeul says flatly in lieu of your subtle shrug, “I’m gonna break your cock, just watch me,” and well, you find and realize, she was serious about that; she fucks herself on your hips, determined - and hops off your waist, your front flush with her back, bringing a pillow for her to cling onto. “Something tells me that you’ve been- deprived, I would say. This bed is a little too spacious for us.” 

You laugh with a yawn mixed in. “Yeah, sure.” Gaeul takes the tie you pulled out from her hair and tosses it to the nightstand. “If you want to put it that way, I won’t complain.” 

She scoffs. “Wow. I point out one thing and you’re not even gonna argue against it,” you can picture the quirk of her mouth, a hint of her teeth peeking through into a grin. “For a guy like you to have some experience, that’s not what I expected-” 

“Do you want the polite answer or the truth?” you ask her, leaning more into the cushion while Gaeul tangles a leg between yours. The world around you seems to fade out from your ears, solely making you focus on the present moment, looking at her with a wistful gaze, one filled with contentment and wonder. 

Deprived no more, you’re mentally telling yourself. 

It’s not long after before Gaeul pats your cheek, kisses your jaw before you hear her feet scuff across the floor to your bathroom with nothing on, watching as she checks herself in the mirror, leans into the doorframe, arm raised and stretched up high, locks of her hair spilling from her collarbones and down to her chest, that head tilt to top the silhouette off nicely you’re left in a trance. 

You figure out that this moment, right now, all of the stars aligned at the right time and firmly believe that it’ll stay. 

–

Sometime later, you tell Gaeul that you were holding out for someone like her; someone that took an effort to get because they were simply out of your league - she laughs, half-impressed. 

“Y’know, for you to be figuratively at the altar but still searching,” she murmurs, tapping your chin. “people like you and I can only get so far in life.” 

“People like me and you,” you repeat, the movement between you two isn’t much, but still cautious.

Gaeul drops her eyelids and smiles, a dimple appearing. 

“People. Interesting, enticing,” she breathes. “Enigmatic and those with charisma.” A chuckle hums low in her chest when she looks up with those wistful, doe eyes, “that’s where your type falls, doesn’t it?” 

On the nail, she is - damn she’s good. 

“And where would I be, had I not talked to you that day,” you ask, grinning like an idiot. The space alone is still difficult to interpret, placing your lips on hers and scratch her head while the waves of her coffee-brown locks sift between your fingers. You could feel yourself sinking - sucked into a black hole with no way out, swallowing you up whole. 

“I wonder too,” she echoes your thought. 

You kiss her forehead, give attention to that cute little beauty mark on her cheek. Watch as her gaze softens: a look of love, almost. 

“I’m bad news for you, sadly,” she adds. “Keep me in your life, you’re bound to regret it.” 

–

She wants you so bad, you can’t help but fuck her for the next couple of days. 

Your schedule slowly shifts to Gaeul’s. When the night falls - because there are multiple instances at two in the morning talking about complete nonsense over mac and cheese bowls and slow kissing in the shower with the water falling on both of you that makes her skin a hot blush pink, pressing her into the tile or sink after with your hand or towel in her mouth to keep her quiet - since you learn she likes it that way, letting you feel up the slick curves of her ass and watch the skin ripple to where you see some of the recoil of her tits in the mirror, or even on your office chair facing away from the desktop, Gaeul biting your ear with her knees up to her pits- 

“You like fucking my pussy open with my legs up like this? Hmm?” Gaeul hisses in your ear, voice rasped and torn, sliding her legs back down, tugging hair while you’re filling every inch of her cunt. “Just letting you use me wherever, whenever, however you want-” 

Alright. It’s hard to imagine what you were getting yourself into when Yujin threw a bone to pick at you playing matchmaker - leaving the door open for Gaeul, the girl who waltzed into your life unknowingly, only for her to be the kind of girl that crumbles from your cock being inside her, pumping so full where she’s pulling you into that leaking white slit for another round - but there’s times in the late morning, treating herself another cup of tea, body riddled with hickeys drawn up and discovered by you like a stargazer, her small waist a gift from the heavens above, in your sweatpants where the ends pool over to her toes, leaning down to take your attention away from the screen, grabbing a handful of her tit in place of a hello. 

“What’s that you got there?” Gaeul giggles, hand stacked on yours while you squeeze gently. “That doesn’t look related to the project.” 

She’s half-right. It’s somewhat relevant to the submissions Yujin’s been sending over for you to look at, and the data’s been stagnant; luckily, you’re glad that someone else’s been keeping you accountable for the time being. 

“Well, that's because it isn’t.” you laugh, swiveling your chair a bit so that she can sit on your lap. “This is what the galaxy looked like on your birthday. Gotta say, that does look pretty.” 

Gaeul coos, leaning her head on top of yours. She moves your hand up to her chest, slips her arm out of the sleeve, rucks the shirt on her shoulder. The mix of pale skin and pink bruises, you’re salivating with every lick of your lips - and she leans closer to the screen.

Her eyes widen at the flashes of blue and purple, stares like the picture itself is an art piece, captivated. “Wow, you know what I think?” 

“What is it?” 

“If you’re gonna help discover a galaxy or image like that,” Gaeul tells you, moving her arm around your neck, lightly scratching your hair, “I’d pull your weight with Yujin on this project if I were you.” 

“Really?” you ask her, leaning back so that she can rest her other leg across yours. “I’ve been doing that, but it’s been slow.” 

“Maybe you just have to draw up the connection a little better, then.” 

–

Your groove gets thrown off. Gaeul disrupts the flow which you have no complaint about. You leave your place far later than you intended, and tell Yujin to let you off the hook. The pictures, readings, sketches - the information is a lot to take already. You’re seeing stars. If she’s the sun then you’d be Icarus: flying closer and closer until you get engulfed completely. 

This isn’t simple for you; a little hard to properly explain. The girl just takes and takes and takes. 

You show Gaeul the night sky, have her look through your telescope and tell which stars and planets are seen, painting the image and guiding her to fill that imagination - only for her to say something to make you laugh; next thing you know, she’s got her pretty lips wrapped around your cock, shutting you up with no care right there on the balcony. She keeps batting those lashes at you, fucking her face - hollowed cheekbones too, god. She’s swallowing you whole, hands at your sides, gargling. Putting her hair up in that ponytail. Yeah, you won’t last long. 

The lapping, licking, spitting. She’s savoring the inescapable deepthroat. 

When she licks the upper seam of your balls, you’re pretty sure you saw a new set of stars right then and there. 

“We might need to look at those pictures you have,” you’re telling Yujin on the phone. “I think those from the last look-up. No- I mean, yeah. I was also reading on Rei’s side of the project as well, and what she has is way more substantial than what we were initially working with.” 

“As much as I hate to admit it, her recent stuff has been looking pretty good compared to ours. I’m just glad we found her to work with us in the first place.” Yujin says, laughing. 

“All I’m saying from last time is that if you were this committed to finding someone that can put up with your antics; maybe rough you up and get you all needy and not be as controlling to just live a little, you know? I know that we’re close to finishing this, but I can extend an olive branch for you to reach if you need a guy up your alley.” 

“I’ll hold you to that offer,” replies Yujin, “Hopefully you got a guy in mind that can handle me like how Gaeul is with you.” 

Right, you tell her. Gaeul’s leaned on the frame leading to the kitchen; not tired, sighing when you look over your shoulder to see her hand in her sweats, finger deep up her cunt. The tilt of your head says to keep it down. She bites her lip, continuing what she’s doing. You’ll see why, and be glad that you didn’t jump at the opportunity yet. You look away for a second to notice her sitting right next to you, brushing up your right side, forcing you to switch the phone to the other hand. Watch it. You’re certain that she could hop on your cock right now, and ride you without a care in the world, because why the fuck not? She’s not wearing panties underneath as it is; asking, whining, begging to be bred. 

Shit. 

You really could. 

If you wanted to. 

Like fucking her on the balcony for the world to see would just be another law in your twisted philosophy, breaking a slut like her, leaving the mess of cum all over her body, have her lick it off so sweetly. In a sky full of stars, you’d want to paint that picture somewhere up there too. 

You’re certain that there’s a solace here - one that’s permanently eclipsed with euphoria, certain that it will stay. 

Gaeul’s breathing funnels into your ear as you bite down a smile, grab a handful of her ass and claw greedily at the indent. You could feel her head nod against yours. She’s so fucking needy. 

“I’ll send over the revisions I made,” she pulls back on your lap to see you say. Yujin beams on the other end of the line. “Touch base with Rei also to see if it matches up.” 

Gaeul moves your arm away, pushes your head back with a lip lock. Her hips drop to your growing bulge below. You end the call right away to ensure Yujin doesn’t get caught up in the middle of it, watch as she rips your shirt off from her body. 

–

You hate to admit that you’ve got this dark-twisted fantasy, unwilling to frame that mindset because there was no reason to. She’s so mild-mannered and soft-spoken; wears pretty outfits and dresses waiting for you in the lobby of your building. She’s one messy bun with a hairclip on top away from urging you to snatch her away, Christ almighty. You’ll take away the layers and make mental notes, conceal her away like she’s some comet - write her name into the books that way the whole world knows about her perfection. A girl like her can change what a man thinks, make them say things like I know what you want, don’t give me that look - just for her to stare with that lovestruck look in your eyes. 

If she wasn’t the kind of girl that fell from the sky and onto your lap, syrupy laugh and giggle with those dreamy eyes, you would have a hard time looking through a scope; she’s rattling your brain to the point where you could say one or two things, have her listen dutifully because you know she will. 

Every exploration is a journey into the unknown, and suddenly she could pop a question at any random point in time, like: hey, you don’t need science to make a woman feel good, okay? You can totally fuck me like you mean it.  

But here she’s babbling, heaving. Completely stuffed up on her back with her knees to her chest, brain nothing but mish mash and riding out the pleasure. “Aren’t you a sweet thing,” you groan, “creaming all over my cock-” 

She’s biting down a piece of her shirt, lifted just above her tits, eyes squinched. Her head tilts back, chest up in the air. You’re pressing on the underside of her thighs, pushing her deep into the mattress. The words coming out of her mouth are incoherent, but you’re fucking it out of her: god, oh god, yes, shit, baby, fuck, fuck me- 

“Christ,” you hiss, and move your hands from her thighs to her back, bending the arch more. You’ve done yourself a favor by not railing her on the dining table like last time, gripping her ass, the addicting clench and glide of her folds, begging you to pound and pound and pound until she’s lost the feeling in her legs. 

Everything leading up to this was relatively tame; nothing too serious other than fifteen or twenty minutes of the usual fill-ins of what was done throughout the day, only for Gaeul to flash a look at you and with a grab of her wrist, the rest of the clothes peel away not long after. 

Probably in this universe, there’s nothing left to decipher in the sounds and expressions displayed on Gaeul’s face, small streams of tears falling on her cheeks with every part from the face down riddled in a rosy blush and sweat. You slide your palms up to her chest, rest your thumbs on the underside of her breasts, steadying, plugging your cock up in her tiny cunt and dragging every inch of skin across her walls, clamping hard and soaking no matter how fast and hard you’re giving it to her. Her body’s used to your length, thoroughly fucked that she can’t do anything but feel ruined. 

You see her mouth form an oh shape, some of her hair gets caught on her cheek, glancing you from the corner of her eye before rolling it back to her head- 

“Shhh,” you say, brushing your nose to the side. “Almost there, baby. I’ve got you-” 

Gaeul’s brows furrow together; grinding her teeth, forcing the dragged-out groan down her throat, tears peeking through the seal of her eyelids. She knows that she can’t do anything - besides just taking it like a nice little girl, let this cock pound and wreck her and look gorgeous as you bottom her out. 

“C’mon baby,” you’re huffing, getting one good thrust in while the flesh ripples at your hips, and Gaeul grits out a holy shit but dies down instantaneously, soft, the wail wheezed out in a whisper. Her whole body shakes with another peak, her face flushed with red, saying nothing seconds later. The wetness leaks out of her, coating your cock while holding you true. There’s no objection, only order when you drive your dick back in her cunt. Small threads of her slick forming on your waist, drawing their own set of constellations on her body. 

Her body rebounds upwards on the inhale. 

“Cum,” she tells you, pleading. You could feel her fingers coil your forearm. 

“Condom,” you stutter and fuck. She’s so unhinged - even if it’s just a singular word or simple request. Wringing her out this way was always going to be the result. “Fuck, can’t-” 

Her breath hitches, a cute noise you think. Some of her hair falls on her forehead, eyes lidded. The corner of her mouth ticks up. 

“What?” 

“If you seriously think that I’m gonna cum inside-” 

Gaeul chuckles, twisted into a moan. You can see the gears in her head turning, trying not to get caught up with your cock embedded in her hot cunt still. 

“Not- that.” 

“Not?” 

Her head falls to the mattress. 

“All over me.” Her shoulders slack, hands sliding further up your arm. You let her legs bracket your hips as you grasp at her tit. She doubles down on the command to be sure you heard it the first time. “I wanna feel it.” 

You don’t say anything more when she props herself up on her elbows, watching the sight of your cock slide slowly in and out of her cunt. Slipping the condom off in one swift pull and lick your palm. Gaeul bites on her thumb, smiling at you barely keeping it together. 

“Here is fine.” The way she suggests is dripping in want. Her heaving chest, kiss-bitten lips, tousled hair and sweat and everything in between. “Or maybe,” you see her glossy eyes once more, filled with lust. “Paint my face and get your nice, thick cum all over my fucking lips-” 

You inhale sharply. 

“Watch it,” you hiss. 

“Maybe I won’t,” Gaeul replies, lip between her teeth, challenging. Her hand reaches to your length to keep you second-guessing. The sight of her body; a literal depiction of sin, right in the palms of your hands. 

She grinds your cockhead along her folds, closing her legs slightly. The pressure already sucking you back in. “Sweetie, where- I could just let you lick it off again, grab a towel from the bathroom, that-” 

“You know what I want.” 

You look at her, unsure. But you know what’s about to happen anyway. 

As if she couldn’t give it to you in a different language, she grabs your wrist gently. It’s an easy problem with an easy solution. You can’t argue how pleasant she really is. She doesn’t have to prove more into it, how she’ll be, you could give into that sense of luxury, and you really could. 

So you’re pondering, skeptical. “I told you. You’re insane if you genuinely want me to cum in you. We’re not doing this. No.” 

Gaeul pouts, combined with an eyebrow lift. 

“And I wasn’t kidding when I said that.” She mentioned it the first time, too: “I’d let you cum anywhere you want.” 

A few more passing blinks go by. 

“Why go through all that just to waste your hard work on-” And you’re left surprised that she’s got the strength left to pull herself back up, resting her hips right on top of yours, fingers carding through your hair when she slips you back inside. Inch by inch, you feel her sinking down - slowly. You know that she isn’t stopping in particular, wiggling her ass; a soft implication, teasing. She’s pulling you closer and closer to where you’re seeing eye to eye with her. “Safeguarding a pretty girl like me.” 

In all honesty: it’s in your nature. Gaeul’s simply just being herself. Tender. Beautiful. Fully embracing. You could give her the power to destroy you, and she’d thank you for it. 

She gives you a very hard time thinking, grinding her hips against yours - let yourself get drunk in the raptures since the rubber was starting to become a pain in the ass recently. Gaeul’s cunt siphons out all your thoughts with every single inch of her gripping cunt, speaking listless phrases of praise and wishes that you’re positive to make come true for her. She could ride and pound her pretty pussy all over your cock - orgasm after orgasm after orgasm - until her face is blown out and just flat-out gone. Ease her mind with your dick, since she seems to love it so much. 

To be spoiled, showered and railed in whatever way possible. She just keeps hopping along your cock, bottoming herself out to the point where she’s looking to the ceiling in pure stimulation. 

You ruck your hips forward. Gaeul trembles, sighing in relief, allowing you the reins, lifting her body up and back down on your thighs. Her neck tips down, mouth canted. 

She’s warm and tight - just perfect; so sensitive and responsive after bouncing her cunt on your cock over and over and over- 

You steady yourself, savoring the feeling. 

She wants you to fill her up, to the point where she has to tell you that it’s enough. 

You suck in a breath, slip out a groan, shuddering. “Oh my god-” 

“Good, right?” Gaeul smiles, “Shit-” and you feel her head collapse onto yours, relaxing and riding out the length until her hips mesh with yours. She practically melts on your cock, stretching and tightening all at once, inviting. 

A kiss to her chest is what you give her, trying to keep your mind off her pussy carelessly clinging every inch of your girth; making it simpler for you to nudge your cockhead into the spot that makes her clench and shake; mewling and humming mixed with the moans; soaking your hips till it stains the sheets. 

“Such a slut,” you tell her, maintaining the last bits of coherence you have left, “so careless and needy. I should stop before you do some real damage.” 

Gaeul smirks, looks so admonished you can’t help but stare. “I don’t like that tone of yours.” 

“What tone?” 

She curls a smile before cradling your head. 

“Talking me down, doesn’t sit right with me.” 

“You told me that you didn’t mind.” You lift her hips from the crease, lean forward to swirl your tongue around her nipple. Looking up to see her watch, give a shameless lick on her bud to lay the challenge, pull back with a pop of the lips. “I know you were being polite about it. Call me a good listener.” 

“I might’ve said something different.” 

“Like you beg to differ.” 

“Hush.” 

“Pussy so good for you that you’re at a loss of words? Set your mind right after getting lazy over work?” The arch in her back deepens, gyrating her hips at the hilt to further the connection - your thumbs dig in the crease of her legs. You drag her forward. She moans again. “Shame on you, I should say no the next time-” 

“But you won’t.” 

“No. No. I won’t.” Gaeul huffs into your cheek, sighs once more when you’re kissing her throat. 

You’re fucking her brains into a puddle and somehow you’re still wondering how she can still think straight - ignoring the fact that her body’s split open and folding through on slap of your hips onto the next- 

“I won’t. Not ever.” She mumbles, whimpering. “I- can’t get enough of this dick. I can never get enough of your dick.” 

“Really?” You’re asking acerbically.

She shakes her head, and you give her a nice hot kiss, priming her head at an angle where you both prefer it to be: and she slips her tongue between your lips, groaning and melting on top of your body, pressing her knees to the sides of your thighs and her cunt in this sliding friction across your cock. She’s terrible at keeping secrets, a truth even - trying to convince you otherwise that she doesn’t like when you’re working her so well her face flushes, aching while leaking her endless slick onto your skin. Your mouth, hands, and cock all give her these waves of bliss, hitting the points all at once where her body blooms and she doesn’t know what to do next. 

You slam her ass back on your balls that her hips spazz out, grinding another climax out of her while she screams; a live wire is what she is, purring and gasping once you’ve triggered that reaction. 

“Like that,” she tells you, at this point, her arrogance is fucked out. Then, her lip is between her teeth, puffing out, bites her teeth together: “that’s so fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” and you feel her fingers slither back into your hair, assisting in the lift of her lower half back down - she’s spiraling. “So good for me, love, baby. Oh, baby-” 

She rattles her head when you’re sliding your hips further forward, the press of Gaeul’s knees moving up to the sides of your stomach. “Nuh uh,” she hisses; the angle is too good for her, impaling her from below she can’t breathe at the top, cunt nicely forming around your cock so deep-” 

“Not the love bullshit, no.” Gaeul chuckles, giddy, mouth canvasing your shoulder. Sighing, whispering, swallowing her hums.

You raise and yank her back down. The whine is one part of the whole symphony. 

“Like- love. What the fuck - so soft. God-” 

“Look who’s talking,” you growl. A curse spills from your lips. She’s a fucking waterfall that it’s unbelievable. The tightness alone for the first time would make anybody an instant addict. And you’re bent on the fact that cumming inside Gaeul is your inevitable demise - her walls clamping in increments around your shaft that every slap of skin and swallow of your throat brings you closer. “I’m giving you what you want, no? All you have to do is just take it - like a nice, little, whore-” 

She wheezes, giggling where it gets caught between a coo and a hum of approval.

“-my little cocksleeve, good god-” you hear yourself say, and the bump of Gaeul’s head into yours can hide so much of her flushed cheeks. “So beautiful, ruined for me, my little nymph come to life. You love this cock so much, wanting to be full of cum, lapping it up like a cute puppy-” 

You’re not sure what you’re saying at this point, but Gaeul keeps on laughing, rolling her hips forward and backward. She lifts herself halfway, falls right back in. Exhales. You know what’s coming; what’s about to happen. Her legs lock up, jaw slacked - hung in suspense. She’s breathing where you could see on her shoulders, leans forward with a turn in her ear: 

“My little sex kitten, how bout that?” 

Skeptical, Gaeul sighs; sucking in her stomach while her head turns the other direction, showing some of that fading self-control and common sense. 

“Okay, that’s. Oh-” she tries telling you, shying away. Her hand goes to yours, continuing the motion, sloppily, letting out a lazy grin and bouncing your name off your lips as her body leans back and into your control. “Rushed, I think. Maybe. Not sure- need more- to get used-” 

“Gaeul.” There's no hiding it anymore, you’re too dumbfucked out of your own mind to turn back now. She seethes out another cry, making you tilt your lips to a devilish smile. “Poor thing, so dirty. A naughty little squirrel that can’t get enough of my nut, huh? Look at you, so wet and filthy, making a mess all over the place-” 

Yeah, she broke you. You’ve gotten so twisted because of her - no point in mincing words here. 

“Fuck, okay, please, that’s too much-” 

You can’t stop - you just can’t. Her cunt is so close to squeezing you, numbing your mind until she drains you completely. 

The pace is painstakingly slow, the rise and fall of her hips with every pump inside her, nails clawing your skin away at the bridge of your shoulders. It becomes- too much, the way your cock stuffs her tiny pussy until that edge is finally reached, the heat cranked up way past eleven, the desire to take it written all over her face and body.

“Want it,” she chokes out. Her cunt creates this pocket of air inside where the noise is just utterly wrong. “Please.” 

Her eyes water, fluttering.

“I hear you, darling. I know.” 

“Ah, yes. You-” 

Her head lolls forward, lazily. You wrap your arms around her waist and guide her back onto the sheets, slip yourself out and roll her over until her ass is in view. She peers over her shoulder, watching you mount her thighs, pull her hips up and slide a pillow into the open space created, laying back down and bury your cock back in her creaming cunt, kneading the handful of ass in your palm before testing the depth again. 

You notice her shoulders bunch up to her neck, hands gripping the sheets when you’re leaning back down to her face.

“Fight me,” you whisper down her ear, “if it’s too much.” Gaeul shakes her head at the drag of your shaft, driving back in with a firm thrust that makes her gasp for air - bites down a moan into the blankets beneath her. You’re pinning her into the bed frame so harshly you don’t even care if you break it. 

Her hand shoots back to your arm, grabbing. The slaps of skin pick up in rhythm, maintaining a tempo. You reach out for her hair and lift her head, releasing a few moans before her breaths also start to become more staccatoed- 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t- hhn-” 

You’re having too much fun for your sake. Though, you can’t blame yourself in this situation. This was what Gaeul wanted, and she got it. A second later you’re pressing her head back down into the bedding, bend that arch in her lower back a bit deeper where your cock can carve its way down to the hottest point where she can take it. Her mewling and crying rise in volume and you only have the slap of your hips to hers serving as this undertone to her song. 

“Where,” you sputter, because you know the limit’s about to be reached. “Where do you want me-” 

Gaeul turns her head back; you can’t even see her lips move when she says it: “Inside.” 

So you coil your arms around her waist and flush your chest to her back. “If that’s what my kitty wants.” 

You raise the pace then and there. Fucking her tight little cunt as if you finally created the theory in your head into breaking Gaeul. It doesn’t take much for someone smart to put the pieces together: all you need is a nice hold of her ass, impaling your cock deep where you can take it, sliding in and out of her walls with such precision that you’ll empty every fiber in your body to satisfy both her and yourself. 

You’re experimenting with the position of her body - deep into the mattress, lift her upper half where both deepens the arch of her pussy, nudging your cock where her walls can clinch and clench along the member - working so seamlessly to bring that orgasm to the front. There’s only one thing left to do now: to pound and bounce her ass and cunt all over your cock until you spill all of it inside her open pink hole. You’re gonna drain everything in your balls deep into Gaeul’s cunt until she’s whining from the mixture of tension and shaking, growling so loud that you’ll wake the neighbors on the upper and lower floors. 

The pulsing, shooting rope after rope and after rope of cum inside her. She’s moaning in relief at the feeling while you’re still pooling, head spinning so fast that you’re finally on the same page as her: ruined, and thoroughly fucked. 

“T’so warm,” she mumbles sleepily. “And thick-“ 

The slamming of your hips keeps you conscious. “Gaeul, this cunt, baby, so fucking incredible.” 

An angel falling from the heavens. Would anyone ever believe it if you told the things you did with her? 

When you do slide out of her well-fucked-and-worked-cunt, you can’t help yourself still and slip inside again, coating your cock mixed in with her slick and your cum. You watch when you pull your tip away from her folds, the sheen of white coming out of her slit - the whole image of her backside is a picture-perfect painting right here in your sheets: her puffy pussy lips, the beet red spread across the breadth of her ass, bruises on bruises across the plane of her back, hair in this half and half of a bun and wavy locks. You then run your hand across your length, wipe the mess on the person who created it, and look at her while she rolls on her back with her arms raised. 

You’ll also think about treating her; cleaning her up in the shower; dry her hair, swaddle her in a towel, carry her around your place, clean every spot and cranny - worshiping her curves and mounds until she’s willing to be broken apart and put back together again. A girl made to be ruined, an endless experiment you want to keep forever. 

“See?” She laughs, running a finger along her folds, collecting her reward, licking it off her fingertips before cupping her palm gently along your cock, slowly rubbing you to get a few more drops out of you. Her tongue runs across her lips, almost like she’s gonna drool again and it’s just fucking terrible, but you love it. “Can’t you think the wonders of you breeding my poor, sorry, cunt-” 

Part of you wants to shut her up with your dick. She’s so forward with the intent and doesn't care about the consequences. It’s dangerous. You’re thinking ahead of how she’ll look with the ribbons of cum spread all over her body, on her face, in her hair. Sick and twisted it is, and she cups your sack - gasping at the sudden weight of it still. 

Soon. You need a breather and push yourself away. 

She flails her arms and legs around like some kid throwing a tantrum, groaning. 

But she smiles and shies away; not nervous, but happy. “Fuck me,” she swears where she feels relaxed and unbound by any worry. You bring yourself down to her and try to kiss her cheek, but she turns her head away with her hand pushing your face. 

“Nope,” she tells you, softly laughing, “I don’t think you’ve earned it. Should’ve fucked me harder.” 

This girl is a problem. 

You pinch her cheek and start poking her stomach, the bubbliness coming to life. She can’t stay in one place the more you tap your fingers all over her body. She’s very ticklish. 

“Poor kitty,” you remark, because you notice her smile and tucked lip, watch the butterflies flutter in her stomach, and when you’re patting her thigh she doesn’t bother retaliating, since the idea’s set in her mind that there’s no further objection. 

“Didn’t you say,” she sighs, voice beaming, face pink and clutching her waist. “You like it when I’m like this, making you stupid that way you’ll just pound me at the end of it? Y’know, pinning me into the mattress. Gotta say, the-” 

“Gaeul, please.” She knows that you’re amused, smiling. “Get up. Go shower, you’re dirty.” 

“No no,” she replies, shaking her head. You stare into her eyes while her legs spread, causing you to look down and scrunch your nose. Her head tips back, trails her fingers up her chest, traces around the nipple, some of her hair falls in front. “If you’re the one who made the mess, you should make the effort to clean me up again.” 

You make a note of the upsetting attitude - maybe forward it to Yujin since she knows a little more about Gaeul out of annoyance. 

Yujin didn’t give you the full report, anyway: about how Gaeul’s the kind of girl that functions over good food, drinks, and a proper dicking down without even considering the whirlwind of logistics she’ll mess up. You should’ve seen the signs. You should’ve known who you’re dealing with. 

“What’s wrong?” Gaeul asks, grinning, relaxing her back while you pull her by the thighs, bringing her closer. You thumb her knee, considering. The warning signs are there - just waiting for everything to come apart. 

She gives you an eye smile while you’re rolling yours, guiding your hand up her inner thigh, stopping right at her pussy lips. It’s draining. A headache. You’ll be sleepless in the morning because you can’t admit Gaeul’s the reason for staying up so late. “Only gonna say it once,” you tell her. “Shower comes first.” 

You say, but your body does otherwise, scooching forward where your finger hovers right above her clit. Though you gently press your palm right above her hip, noticing how sweaty she is - or maybe it’s the spread slick from her thighs; you can’t tell, the slide of it has you in disbelief. 

“I think you can give me one more,” Gaeul suggests, rolling on her stomach, forming the arch so tantalizing you force yourself to look away, knees spreading and her feet flush - imploring without really saying anything because you know she won’t stop and there’s nothing you can do about it. Her teeth peek through her cunning smirk, fully pleased. “Forget about putting another condom on, ‘cause like- god. I know you love how my pretty little pussy lips wrap around your cock when you’re cumming in me anyway.” 

It’s a genesis of sorts: the beginning of an unending madness. A world which you cannot escape - nor want to. 

–

Everything is a mess: you, your place, your work with Yujin. Gaeul comes by every other day - except when she’s swamped with schoolwork where she pops the idea of going on a romantic getaway or a staycation, hiding yourself away from the world and fucking her stupid until she’s sleepy. 

Here’s the thing. 

It’s when you’re with friends- or just you and her, wandering around the city, she’s the calmest, reserved girl you’ve ever seen. Much like she puts on a mask or appearance during the day and nobody seems to notice. Her clothes are much in line with yours, and pulling your face for a kiss - well, to milk the moment, you suppose - curling her fingers across your cheek, eyes so full of her that they’re crossing against each other at the press of her forehead with yours. 

There’s something here. You’re certain that it’s already been found. An exploration of these moments and experiences and the gut feeling rest well in your mind. You ponder, maybe it’s meant to be. This was all for fun at some point too. Maybe, also, that might not be the case. 

You deem it too early to say you love her, but the reciprocating kisses she gives you make you think otherwise, every single time, and you give into her little smile. 

If you or her mean it, one of you will say the words eventually. 

–

“So? What are we thinking? You reckon we’ll get it this time?” Yujin says, optimistic. You picture her with her feet propped up on something or in the air, it sounds like it. 

“Well, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” You answer, “Oh- by the way, Gaeul wanted to come along for the final set of tests. Are you okay with that?” 

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” 

“Awesome.” 

Silence builds up on the line. 

“Aren’t you gonna tell me how she is?” Yujin prods, teasingly with a tone higher than usual. “C’monnnnn, I wanna know-” 

“Why would I? My business with Gaeul is not information to share.” 

“Boooooo.” 

“What?” 

“You and her haven’t given me credit for setting you guys up,” says Yujin. “Some of the details can be left out - for obvious reasons. She’s been telling me good things about you.” 

You smile at that. 

“Okay, to be honest, she’s amazing. I haven’t had an issue with her since our date and well- I don’t need to explain more for you to figure the rest out.” 

“Tell me more later when I see you two, but from what it sounds like, I think you struck your luck out with this one. She’s a real keeper.” 

Seeking out an Andromeda wasn’t on the cards, but you’re happy enough to have it fall right on your lap. 

It’s something special to cherish. 

–

Gaeul watches from a distance, admiring the image of you in your element. 

Yujin looks closely at the screen readings while you’re peering into the telescope, following along to the proper adjustment in getting the coordinates right. There’s a double check - then a triple check - glancing at the image presented. She smiles when you give her a nod of approval, looking back over at Gaeul who stares right back. 

Gaeul appears stoic, but you can tell that she was a little bit nervous for you. If things didn’t go well today, it wasn’t going to be the end of the world, but you know deep down that she wants you to succeed - and you do too. 

“We have something,” you’re telling her when you reach the bottom of the steps, rubbing her elbow for comfort. “Wanna come take a look?” 

She bites her lip, eyes tilting down, and nods. 

You kiss her knuckle and bring her up. 

Minutes later, she’s where you were: through the looking glass while Yujin slides her chair over pointing at the mix of greenish blue in the middle of the vast blackness of space. “Looks new, seems lightyears away from us. Have we finally got it?” 

“Judging from what the professor was telling us, nobody is claiming this one yet.” 

Yujin taps your shoulder before leaving to call up her mentor. 

Gaeul still looks into the scope, smiling when she feels your arms wrap around her waist, laughing softly. 

“It’s beautiful,” she tells you, “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

The night sky shines above the observatory, light funneling through the opening as a natural spotlight, illuminating the glow reflected on her perfect skin. You look at her as if you’d turn into stone when you look away. She looks at you like everything just makes sense - a safe place where she can find comfort in, realizing what she said was already made true, but she doesn’t know that. 

“You speak for yourself? Or?” 

She hits your arm, and you’re smiling like an idiot. 

“Do you have a name for it?” Gaeul asks, turning around so that she’s properly facing you. You’re still trying to figure out how she can look so pretty - so effortlessly; it’s something that you’ll dedicate a whole lot of time to study, see if you can find the answer in her eyes, or her body- 

“Not yet,” you answer. “It'll take some time to pick, but- I’m open to recommendations.” 

She nods, quickly flashing her eyes to see if there was anyone within earshot, pensive. “I got nothing so far, but I’m willing to jog your mind if you’re it.” 

“Gaeul,” you say, sternly, grip tightening on her lower back. “What’re you implying, hm?” 

“All I’m saying is that I can be a great help for you in that bathroom downstairs. Unless you want to step outside, get some fresh air - the breeze is so nice up here, and no one will hear me because of the crickets-” 

“Minx,” you’re saying again. She sighs with her mouth parted, working herself right off the bat. “Now’s not the time, you were good for me earlier. Plus, your ass is still sore, I know why you didn’t want to sit down in the first place.” 

Gaeul nicks her head up, lifts her eyebrows. You’re flashing the image in your head of earlier: her being soaked in your cum, mouth swollen and makeup ruined, naked with a pair of cat ears in her hair and wrists handcuffed to the edge of your bed. It’s been a few hours since then, but nothing’s stopping the urge from burning through your pants- 

“Said you did a good job spanking me, did I?” 

“You know my answer.” 

“Touché.” 

You shake your head and press your lips to her crown. Patting her head and rubbing her shoulder while she puts her thumb on her chin, carelessly minding her own business while you’re treating her; mind already tired and with the amount of pictures and papers and telescopes too complicated to listen to in a firm explanation, she’s unbothered. She pats your back twice to make you stop. 

“We’re still grabbing drinks with Yujin after, right?” Gaeul asks, remembering the offer. “Her treat?” 

“She’s a terrible liar,” you chuckle, “The tab’s on me.” 

–

It’s all a process. 

Day by day. The concept of love is not a linear path; getting to know someone and revealing the pieces, building that trust with a significant other, infatuated about the secrets and intricacies that you’ll take to your grave once they’re shared, seen, and spoken. 

You’re up late nights, peering into your bedroom to see her legs tangled around a pillow. On certain days she comes home excited, jumping onto you at the door to times when she’s tired, and you’re piggybacking her inside because that’s what she likes. When she’s with Yujin, she’s normally quiet and laid-back - but with you, she’s all over the place. Telling you these unholy things that you don’t expect her to know when you’re fucking her into the bed; the way her voice sounds when she’s praising you. She goes around like her own little planet, full of wonderful things. She likes vinyls and vintage stuff and prefers to run outside when it’s raining. You let her steal your glasses because she looks better in them. Her smile is infectious. The way that she tousles and turns when you’re kissing every corner of her body and telling her all the things that she wants to hear. You’ve got the backlog filled out.  

Spread her legs apart, have her sit up, ride your face. Break down those fragile walls until she’s completely sucked into your embrace. Gaeul desires a lot of things that you can try to give - the wonders of the world, a bigger picture - something that you’ll pull down from above and have her keep for the sentiment. 

You’ll keep the fact that she’s somebody who wants to be ruined - get chaotic and a tad sadistic. She prefers the punishment over the crime. 

–

Nights like these, it feels like some kind of mistake when Gaeul brings you over to her place. 

There’s nothing bad happening whatsoever, you just feel the knife twist a little more when you can’t go inside because last time Liz and her other roommate caught you and her red-handed on the couch, even after having the assurance that they wouldn’t be home until later. It wouldn’t feel wrong to hug her, kiss her goodbye, knowing that you’ll probably see her around on campus in the afternoon later. 

Gaeul gazes into your eyes earnestly, as if she didn’t want to go back in yet, hoping that you’ll take her away and carry her back to your apartment. A wish she made on a passing star and praying it comes true. With those white thigh highs she’s wearing, you’ll make that dream a reality in a heartbeat. 

“How long have we been friends for again?” She asks, tugging on your jacket, slipping your hands around her hips. She’ll take wherever she can, you know her well. “Hard to believe that we’d be together. You know, like this.” 

“Do I need to remind you who made the first move?” 

“Fuck you.” She slaps your chest as part of the response. “I was trying to have a moment with you. So shut up.” 

“Okay, I will, please continue.” You lift your shoulders in surrender. “For the record, I’d like to take most of the credit, since I asked and all that.” 

Gaeul rolls her eyes to the back of her head. That was her whole plan from the start - had you not said anything to her, she wouldn’t be here taunting you; while being so quiet and pretty that it’s hard to combine the two. 

“Depends on who asks,” she begins. Her cheeks rise, veneers highlighted. She throws everything out in your head with ease - one hint or subtle suggestion and the common thoughts get brushed aside. That’s a you problem. More so of a bigger problem compared to hers. She can read your expressions like a book. 

So you say: “Are you asking?” 

You keep looking at her, like you did back in the museum, wondering all of the pretty little things that differentiate her from the rest; her side profile, the bunny-heart-shaped-ears, how her lips purse together almost like a pout; it’s like you’re seeing some cosmic pareidolia. Kind of like putting fragments together from your dream. 

Gaeul tilts her head, pondering. “If you are, then I’d agree with what you’re saying,” she tells you, kissing your cheek and stepping inside her apartment.

[woniedarlin]

Two of a Kind

pairing: Soft! Jungwon x Soft fem! reader

synopsis: Everyone knows that Jungwon has a pure and innocent heart. So, when he’s seen with a female version of himself—everyone’s left wondering how the universe can handle two of them.

author's note: This was never planned to be written, but here we are! Happy reading ✨

caution: They cry over EVERYTHING. Cute moments? Tears. Sweet gestures? More tears. If you’re not ready for this emotional overload, proceed with caution!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

Jungwon was already known as the school’s most admired guy. He is polite, sweet, and with a smile that could melt hearts. But when you entered his life, everything changed. You were his perfect match: just as adorable, just as innocent, and just as over-the-top with emotions.

Your relationship quickly became legendary—not because of drama or fights, but because of how unapologetically cute you were together…. and perhaps a little dramatic… or maybe a lot…

One day during lunch, you sat across from Jungwon, absentmindedly tying your hair into a loose ponytail. Jungwon, however, had gone completely still. He sat with his spoon mid-air, staring at you like he’d just seen the most astonishing sight in the world. His eyes grew wide, his lips parted slightly, and his cheeks flushed pink.

Finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze. “What?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion.

Jungwon’s lips quivered as he let out the softest sniffle. “You’re… you’re so beautiful, it hurts,” he said, his voice cracking.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What are you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you noticed his eyes glistening.

Actual tears. Forming.

“Jungwon!” you gasped, setting down your chopsticks and reaching across the table to grab his hand. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t deserve you!” he wailed, covering his face with his free hand. His shoulders shook dramatically as he buried his head in his arms. “You’re too perfect!”

You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing in disbelief. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but then it hit you—his words, tears, ridiculous sincerity.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, feeling your own emotions welling up. “You’re so adorable, I can’t handle this!’’ To Jungwon’s shock, tears began streaming down your face, too. You clutched his hand tighter and sniffled loudly. “How are you even real? It’s not fair!”

Now, the two of you were full-on crying in the middle of the cafeteria, heads bowed and hands clasped together. Jungwon suddenly wiped his eyes and stood up. “I love you so much, I just—” His voice cracked, and he sat down again, clutching his chest dramatically like he couldn’t handle his emotions anymore.

You hiccupped through your tears, nodding at him. “Me too. I can’t—how are you so sweet?!”

The two of you returned to crying, oblivious to the whispers and amused stares around you. Your untouched plates of food sat forgotten on the table.

When the moment passed, and you finally calmed down, your eyes were red and puffy, and your hands were still clasped tightly together. Jungwon sniffled one last time, giving you a watery smile. “I just… I love you.”

You giggled through your sniffles, squeezing his hand. “I love you too.”

“They’re either the cutest couple ever or just plain insane,” someone whispered.

“Yeah, they’re definitely insane.”

But neither of you noticed—or cared.

🌷

One afternoon, your best friend floated an idea to have a double date with her boyfriend. You and Jungwon were immediately on board—how hard could it be? Except…neither of you realized that a double date was required…

Actual planning.

When the four of you arrived at the amusement park, things fell apart almost instantly. “Wait, you didn’t bring the tickets?” your friend’s boyfriend asked, his tone hovering between exasperation and disbelief.

Jungwon scratched the back of his neck, his sheepish smile doing nothing to hide the truth. “Uh… I thought you’d bring them,” he mumbled, glancing at you for backup.

You gasped, your eyes wide. “Me? I thought you’d bring them!”

The two of you exchanged horrified looks, realizing you had managed to mess up before the date even began. Your best friend sighed and pulled her wallet from her bag. “You two are so lucky you’re cute, or I’d leave you outside,” she muttered, going to the ticket booth to purchase tickets. Again.

🌷

After the amusement park fun, you and Jungwon found yourselves in an unexpectedly quiet corner of the park, your friends nowhere in sight. The two of you blinked around at the crowd, completely lost.

“Uh, where’d they go?” you asked, your voice confused.

Jungwon looked around, his eyes wide and innocent. “I thought we were just following them…”

You both turned in a full circle, eyes darting around as if someone might suddenly emerge from the crowd with a map or a sign that said, “This way to your friends!”

“I think… we might be lost,” you said, peering over at Jungwon, your brows furrowing.

Jungwon blinked back at you, his expression clueless. He had those big, boba eyes, “You think so?”

The two of you continued to look around, but it felt like the world was spinning in a dizzying blur, making it impossible to tell where anyone had gone. You caught sight of a hot dog cart and paused.

“Maybe we should just… get some snacks?” you suggested, still feeling a little lost but okay with it.

Jungwon’s eyes lit up at the mention of food. “Good idea! You know, I read somewhere that getting snacks makes everything better.”

You grinned at his enthusiasm, and together, you walked over to the cart, still holding hands. “Do you think we’ll ever find them?” you asked, tilting your head.

He nodded confidently (even though he had no idea where they were.) “Of course! We have snacks now. We’ll be okay.”

You both nodded as you shared a bite of your snack, still standing in the middle of a busy crowd, clueless but happy to be lost together. As you were about to ask him if he thought your friends would ever return, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“There you are!” Your best friend waved at you both, laughing.

You and Jungwon turned around, blinking like two confused children, both of you still holding hands.

“Did you guys seriously just get lost?” she teased, looking between you two.

You both looked at each other, “I think so,” Jungwon said with a little shrug.

You then showed the food. “But we found snacks!”

Your friends laughed, but the two of you didn’t mind. Being lost wasn’t so bad when you had each other.

🌷

As you and Jungwon continued walking through the amusement park, your attention was momentarily caught by a man who passed by, looking incredibly well put together.

You glanced at him, a little shocked by how tall he was. Woah ( •͈૦•͈ )

Before you could say anything, Jungwon suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened as he quickly turned toward you, a flustered expression spreading across his face.

“W-what’s wrong?” you asked, slightly concerned.

Then…with no warning….

Jungwon spread his arms in front of you, practically blocking your view. “Don’t look! Don’t look at him!” he said, his arms wide as if trying to block out the entire world—especially the man walking ahead.

You blinked, completely confused at first. “What? Why? He’s just a guy…”

“No!” Jungwon’s face turned a bright shade of red. “He’s a man! A man! And you… you can’t look at him!”

“But Jungwon, it’s not like I—”

“No!” Jungwon interrupted, his eyes still fixed on you. “I’m the only man you should look at!” He pointed to himself dramatically, puffing out his chest

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •�� )ᕗ

“Are you seriously…?” you started to say, but then Jungwon’s expression made it even harder to stay serious.

“I’m serious!” he said with an exaggerated nod, keeping his arms outstretched. “I will protect you from all other men! You have no reason to look at anyone else!”

You giggled and stepped forward, warmly hugging him, “Only you.”

Jungwon smiled shyly, his arms slowly lowering as he hugged you back. “I’m just trying to protect my pretty girl.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” you said, grinning. “But I think I’m fine.”

He gave you a bashful smile. “I’ll be your shield forever.” Oh, Jungwon…

🌷

The only time you and Jungwon ever argued was over the silliest things.

Case in point: your 1st anniversary.

Jungwon showed up at your door, practically bouncing on his heels, his hands hidden behind his back. “Close your eyes!” he said, barely containing his excitement.

You laughed but did as you were told. “Okay, okay. They’re closed!”

After a moment of shuffling, he whispered, “Open them!”

When you did, your eyes fell on the cutest handmade pottery mug you’d ever seen!! (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥)

“Surprise!” Jungwon said, grinning from ear to ear. “I made it myself in pottery class. See? It even has little hearts on it!” He held it out, his eyes shining with pride.

Your jaw dropped, your heart instantly melting at his effort. “You’re kidding,” you whispered, taking the mug from him. “You made this for me?”

Jungwon nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I wanted to make something special for you.”

You stared at the mug. Then, with a gasp, you set it down and reached behind you. “But I was going to surprise you first!”

From your bag, you pulled out your gift: a scrapbook stuffed with pictures of the two of you, each page decorated with stickers, doodles, and handwritten notes. It was a labor of love you’d poured hours into creating.

Jungwon blinked at the scrapbook, then at you. His expression shifted from pride to confusion. “Wait…what?”

You crossed your arms. “I spent weeks working on this! I was supposed to surprise you!”

“But, baby,” Jungwon whined, “you can’t just out-surprise my surprise!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? You’ll find that my scrapbook beats your wobbly little mug any day!”

“Wobbly?” Jungwon gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “How dare you insult my craftsmanship! Do you know how hard it was to make that? I burned my hand on the kiln for you!”

You snorted. “Well, I stayed up three nights in a row cutting and pasting pictures, thank you very much!”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed. “Alright, then. Let’s settle this. Who’s the better gift-giver? Me, with my heartfelt mug of love, or you, with your scrapbook of sentimental memories?”

“Obviously me,” you said, pointing your tongue at him.

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. But I hope you know I’m keeping this scrapbook because it’s adorable.”

“And I’m keeping the mug because it’s precious,” you replied, softening as you placed it on the table.

Jungwon dramatically sighed and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you. “I guess we both won.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, smiling into his chest. “But next time, let’s coordinate surprises. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, leaning back to look at you. Then he grinned. “But you have to admit—my mug is better.”

You swatted his shoulder. “Don’t push your luck, pottery boy.”

🌷

For Jungwon’s birthday, you decided to bake him chocolate cake all by yourself, even though baking wasn’t exactly your strong suit.

When you arrived at his house, you held the cake box before you. Jungwon opened the door with a bright grin, but his expression softened into something almost reverent when he saw the box. “You… you made me a cake?” he asked, his voice soft with awe.

You nodded, suddenly shy. “It’s not perfect, but—”

“Let me see it!” He eagerly took the box, carefully opening it. His mouth dropped open when he laid eyes on the slightly uneven yet undeniably adorable cake.

“It’s so cute,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

You blinked, worried. “You think so? I know it’s a little messy, but—”

“It’s perfect,” Jungwon cut you off, his bottom lip trembling. “You made this for me. With your own hands. For me.” He looked at you, his eyes glistening like he was about to cry. Before you could react, he gently set the cake down on the table and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder.

“It’s perfect because you made it,” he murmured, his voice muffled and shaky.

“Wonie, don’t cry,” you said, laughing softly, even as you felt your own eyes start to sting. “It’s just a cake.”

“But you’re so thoughtful, and I don’t deserve you,” he said dramatically, pulling back just enough to look at you with tear-filled eyes.

That was it. Your heart couldn’t take it. He was too adorable and too sweet.

Before you knew it, tears were welling up in your eyes, too.

“You don’t deserve me?” you countered, sniffling. “What about you? You’re the sweetest, most precious person ever! How are you real?”

Jungwon blinked at you, his eyes wide and shiny. “Are you crying now?”

“I can’t help it!” you wailed softly. “You’re too cute!”

The two of you ended up crying (again) in his kitchen, this time over a cake. His mom walked in, looked at the scene, and sighed. “You two are hopelessly adorable,” she said, shaking her head and walking away. Her son really found his match.

🌷

Days later, as you and Jungwon walked home together, he suddenly stopped and turned to you. His expression was serious. “I have something to tell you,” he said, trembling.

You immediately panicked. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “It’s just… I love you so much, and sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be good enough for you.”

Your heart melted instantly. “wonie, don’t be silly. I love you more than anything.”

He blinked at you, his cheeks flushing. “You mean it?”

“Of course!” you said. “But wait—did you stop me just to tell me that?”

Jungwon scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, I was also going to ask if you wanted to go to the new ice cream shop with me. But it sounded more romantic in my head.”

Laughing, you grabbed his hand. “Yes, dummy. I’ll go with you.”

Later, as you both shared a giant ice cream sundae, Jungwon suddenly sniffled and started tearing up again.

“wonie, now what?” you asked, half-laughing as you handed him a napkin.

“I’m just so happy,” he sniffled, his big boba eyes shining with tears. “You’re too perfect, it’s unfair.”

You blinked at him, your heart swelling. “Why are you crying?!”

“I don’t deserve you!” he wailed, covering his face with his hands, shoulders trembling slightly.

That’s when your tears started to form. “No, stop—don’t cry!”

“But—”

“Now you’re making me cry!” you interrupted, wiping your eyes with your sleeves as tears spilled over.

Jungwon peeked at you through his fingers, looking genuinely alarmed. “Wait, why are you crying?”

“Because you’re crying!” you sniffled. “And you’re too adorable; it’s not fair.”

Jungwon, despite his tears, suddenly let out a soft laugh. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, reaching for another napkin and gently dabbing at your tears.

You hiccupped through your giggles, overseeing him dry your cheeks, only for him to realize he was still crying. “We’re hopeless,” you whispered, sniffling again.

Jungwon nodded solemnly. “Hopelessly in love.”

Jungwon paused, looked at you with that soft, adorable gaze, and leaned closer.

“Come here,” he murmured.

Before you could say anything, he pressed a long, gentle kiss to your lips. It was so soft and sweet that it fluttered your heart wildly in your chest.

You pulled back, wide-eyed, but grinning like an idiot. “wonie, you have ice cream on your lips.”

“Do I?” he asked innocently, licking his lips. “Must be from you then.”

You gasped, smacking his arm lightly as he laughed, clearly pleased with himself.

Who knew that two people so alike could be this cute together?

[p0orbaby]

Pitch Invader

summary: barça’s twelfth (wo)man

warnings: nothing

a/n: thank you for the request !

word count: 1.6k

-

There are certain truths universally acknowledged: gravity exists, toddlers are irrational, and the Putellas genes are a force of nature.

Today’s a big day: Alexia is playing one of the most important games of the season, and you’re in the stands with your two-year-old daughter, who, despite being the tiniest human in the stadium, possesses the energy of a thousand deranged squirrels. You are, in a word, nervous.

Your daughter, however, is anything but nervous. She’s strapped into her tiny jersey with Putellas scrawled across the back in letters that are nearly as big as she is. Her hair’s up in a ponytail, more like a pineapple sprouting out of her head, but you know that’s the only way she likes it. You’ve brought snacks, water, an iPad loaded with Paw Patrol, and a collection of those little rubber animals she’s obsessed with. You are prepared for every disaster except, apparently, the actual one.

The game kicks off. Your daughter’s glued to the action, her eyes tracking the players with a focus you wish she’d bring to bedtime. She’s screaming "Mami!" like she’s the head of the Alexia Putellas fan club. Which, let’s be real, she probably is.

You, meanwhile, are half-watching the game, half-watching her, and half-wondering when you’ll get the time to sleep ever again. The maths doesn’t add up, but then again, neither does the toddler logic you’re about to encounter.

In the 30th minute, the snacks run out. Which, you should have known, is a harbinger of doom. Your daughter, little genius that she is, finishes her juice box and immediately hurls it to the ground. She gives you the wide-eyed innocent look that usually precedes a request for more snacks or a sudden need to use the bathroom. But not this time.

This time, she leans in conspiratorially, whispering, “Mami!” It’s a statement, a question, and a declaration of war all at once.

“Yes, baby,” you say, patting her hand, thinking she’s just expressing her undying adoration for Alexia. You know what’s coming, but you’re oblivious. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the adrenaline of the match.

“Mami!” she repeats, louder, with more urgency. You’re too busy trying to figure out if she’s got another juice box somewhere in the black hole that is your nappy bag to notice that she’s been scoping out her escape route. You’ve taught her well: always look for the exits. You just never expected her to take that lesson so literally.

“Mami!” And before you can register what’s happening, she’s off like a shot, little legs pumping with the determination of someone who’s just discovered that the world is a lot more fun when you’re not stuck behind bars. Literally. Because she’s somehow squeezed through the railing and is now sprinting toward the field like she’s got the ball and is gunning for the goal.

There’s a split second where time stops. The crowd noise fades, the players blur, and you’re left watching your tiny daughter make her bid for freedom. Then, the panic sets in.

“Oh my God, she’s on the pitch!” you scream, leaping to your feet. Your heart's in your throat, and your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, but you move. You have to. Alexia is going to kill you. No, worse, she’s going to tell your mother.

This is it. You’re going to die. Not because your daughter’s about to get trampled by a bunch of world-class athletes, but because Alexia Putellas is going to murder you on the spot for letting this happen.

“Don’t move!” you yell, as if your two-year-old is going to suddenly develop a sense of self-preservation and stop in her tracks. You leap over seats with a grace you didn’t know you possessed, and suddenly, it’s you versus the grass, a race you never wanted to be a part of.

The security guards, bless them, are as stunned as you are. They’re used to dealing with rowdy fans, not rogue toddlers. One of them starts to move, but you’re faster. You vault over the barrier like an Olympian, not caring that you’ve just flashed half the stadium. Your brain is a mess of conflicting priorities: get the child, avoid the cameras, don’t trip, for the love of God, don’t trip.

“Mami!” Your daughter’s scream pierces the air as she beelines for Alexia, who, by now, has spotted her and is having her own heart attack on the pitch. Alexia freezes, eyes wide, mouth open in a soundless yell. You can see her future flash before her eyes: headlines like “Star Player’s Toddler Takes Over Match” or “Tiny Terror Halts Game, Becomes Internet Sensation.”

The ball is at the far end of the pitch, and most of the players haven’t noticed yet. But one of the defenders has. She’s staring, and then she starts laughing. You can’t blame her. You’d be laughing too if you weren’t about to faint from the sheer absurdity of it all.

Finally, you reach your daughter just as she reaches the center circle. You scoop her up, her little legs still kicking as if she’s going to make a break for it again. She’s giggling, thinking this is all the best game ever, and honestly, you’re too relieved to be mad.

Alexia, however, is sprinting toward you like she’s about to dropkick someone, probably you, into the next century. You flash her an apologetic smile, holding up the wriggling toddler as if to say, “I found her! Look, I’m a hero!”

Alexia doesn’t look like she agrees. Her face is a mix of horror, relief, and something that might be love if you’re lucky. She reaches you, breathless, eyes still wide as saucers. “What… the… hell…?”

“I took my eyes off her for two seconds!” you pant, defensively. “You try keeping up with her!”

Your daughter, oblivious to the chaos she’s caused, throws her arms around Alexia’s neck and says, “Mami, I won!”

Alexia softens instantly, her expression shifting to one of pure adoration. She holds your daughter close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Yes, you did, mi amor. You won”

The crowd, which had been holding its collective breath, erupts into cheers and laughter. You’re pretty sure you see a wave of camera phones aimed in your direction. Great. You’ll never live this down.

But then Alexia grins at you, and it’s that grin—the one that says she’s both exasperated and completely in love with you—that makes all of this worth it.

“I’m going to kill you,” she whispers, but she’s smiling, and you know you’re in the clear.

“Totally fair,” you agree. “But can we do that after the game?”

With a resigned laugh, Alexia turns to walk you both off the field, your daughter still happily babbling about how she’s the best player ever, better than even Mami. And you? You just can’t wait to tell her how this day was 100% her fault when she’s old enough to understand the concept of consequences.

As you reach the sidelines, you catch the eye of the commentator, who’s openly laughing now. “And that, folks, is what you call a family affair!”

You wave awkwardly, knowing you’re going to be a meme by the end of the day. But as you hand your daughter back to her seat, watching Alexia return to the pitch with a look of determination that’s all business now, you can’t help but feel a rush of pride.

Sure, you almost derailed an entire match. But on the plus side, you just might have discovered a new sport: Toddler Sprinting, with a side of Parental Panic. Gold medals all around.

[rosemariiaa]

~A Family Christmas Eve~

˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing: Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie’s note: okkk, i loved the prompts in my inbox but i had two that were my favs so i out those together, i live for pazzi as moms omgg! but sadly this is the last oneshot until after a few chapter of HS, which should be coming out soon hah.. anyway happy reading lovelies 💌

˖˙ ᰋ ── theme: fluff

enjoy!!!

The living room is alive with the warm glow of Christmas lights reflecting off the shiny ornaments scattered on the coffee table. The smell of pine mingles with hints of hot chocolate from the kitchen, and the faint sounds of Christmas music play in the background. Azzi is kneeling in front of the couch, wrestling a tiny red pajama set onto a squirming two-year-old who has ideas of her own.

“Evie,” Azzi says patiently, holding up the pajama top. “Arms up, baby. Come on.”

Evie, soft curls framing her round face and lips set in a pout, crosses her arms instead. “Cookies,” she declares firmly, her voice carrying the kind of conviction only a toddler can manage.

Azzi sighs, sitting back on her heels and glancing toward the bedroom door. “Paige!” she calls out, clearly trying not to laugh.

“What?” Paige yells back from the living room.

“Your daughter’s holding me hostage,” Azzi shouts, her voice light but full of mock frustration.

Evie gasps dramatically. “Not hotage!” she insists, her little face scrunching up in indignation.

Paige appears in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wearing a matching red pajama set. Her grin is immediate as she takes in the sight of Azzi kneeling on the floor and Evie sitting on the bed, stubbornly bare-armed. “What’s the problem?” Paige asks, crossing her arms.

“She won’t let me get her dressed because she wants to bake cookies right now,” Azzi explains, giving Paige a helpless look.

Evie points a tiny finger at Azzi. “Cookies now, Mama!”

Paige bites back a laugh and crouches to Evie’s level, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay, Evie,” she says, her voice conspiratorial. “How about this—if you let Mama get you dressed, I’ll let you pick the first ornament for the tree. Deal?”

Evie narrows her eyes, clearly weighing her options before finally relenting with a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” she says, lifting her arms.

Azzi mutters a quiet “thank you” under her breath as she slips the pajama top over Evie’s head.

Just as they’re finishing, the sound of loud banging echoes from the front door. Paige groans, standing up quickly. “Oh my God. Who’s about to break our house down?”

Azzi stands, scooping Evie into her arms, the little girl’s curls bouncing as she giggles. “I have a guess,” Azzi says, smirking.

Paige opens the door to find the entire team—Caroline, KK, Ice, Morgan, Yanna, Sarah, Nika, and Amari—crowded on the porch in matching Christmas sweaters and grinning like maniacs.

“Twin!” Nika shouts, barging in first to give Paige a huge hug that nearly knocks her over.

“You can’t just—” Paige starts, but before she can finish, the rest of the team is pouring into the house, hugging both her and Azzi, and exclaiming over how festive everything looks.

“Where’s the star of the show?” Ice asks, looking around dramatically.

As if on cue, Evie wiggles out of Azzi’s arms and bolts toward Ice. “Auntie Icey!” she yells, throwing herself at Ice, who catches her with practiced ease.

“There she is!” Ice says, spinning Evie around.

The room quickly turns into a loud, chaotic swirl of hugs and laughter. Caroline helps Evie unwrap a candy cane, KK heads straight for the snacks Paige left out on the counter, and Amari spots the tree and claps her hands. “Alright, where do we start?”

“Nika, you’re slacking,” Azzi teases as Nika sits on the couch, already holding a mug of hot chocolate. “I thought you were her favorite.”

“I am her favorite,” Nika retorts, holding out her arms. “Right, Evie? Come to Auntie Nika.”

Evie scrambles out of Ice’s arms and runs to Nika, who picks her up and holds her close. “Told you,” Nika says smugly, sticking her tongue out at Azzi.

“Rah!” Evie says suddenly, spotting Sarah next.

Sarah grins, holding out her hand for a high five. “What’s up, Evie girl?”

“Moogan,” Evie says, pointing at the brunette, her small brow furrowed.

Morgan crouches down with a patient smile. “Mooorgan,” she says slowly, exaggerating the sounds. “Can you say it?”

“Moooo-gin,” Evie tries, frowning when it doesn’t come out right.

“It’s okay, baby,” Azzi teases, stepping forward and resting a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Morgan’s just the least favorite, anyway.”

“Wow, Fudd,” Morgan deadpans, narrowing her eyes as the group bursts into laughter.

Paige bites back a grin, watching Morgan attempt to recover her pride as Evie plants a soft kiss on her cheek to make up for it. “See? She loves you,” Paige says through her laughter. “You’re just not Nika.”

“None of us are,” Ice chimes in, throwing a fake glare at Nika, who’s still smugly cuddling Evie like a prized trophy.

“Alright, alright,” Azzi interrupts with a laugh, clapping her hands. “We still have a tree to decorate, stockings to hang, and yes,” she shoots a look at Evie, “cookies to bake.”

“Cookies!” Evie squeals excitedly, squirming until Nika sets her down. She dashes toward the kitchen, only to be intercepted by Caroline.

“Hold up, Evie. Ornaments first,” Caroline says, scooping her up and spinning her around.

Paige watches it all unfold with a fond smile, her arms crossed as she leans against the wall. She and Azzi have hosted team gatherings before, but this—everyone together, laughing, filling their home with chaos and love—this feels different. It feels special.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Azzi murmurs, stepping up beside her and bumping Paige’s shoulder lightly.

Paige turns her head, grinning. “Just thinking about how lucky we are. Look at this.” She gestures at the scene in front of them—KK and Amari tangled in lights, Sarah sorting ornaments while Ice takes an entire strand of garland for herself like a scarf, and Morgan carefully helping Evie pick the first ornament for the tree.

Azzi follows Paige’s gaze, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Yeah. We are lucky.”

“Also, you should’ve named her Christmas Eve,” Paige jokes, nudging Azzi again. “Because then it’d be Evie on Christmas Eve.”

Azzi groans, rolling her eyes. “Paige, that joke was awful.”

“No, no, it’s brilliant,” Paige insists, grinning even wider. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Azzi deadpans, but there’s no hiding the affectionate gleam in her eyes.

Before Paige can respond, Evie toddles over to them with an ornament clutched in her hand—a glittery silver star. “Mommy, Mama, look!”

Paige crouches down, holding out her hand so Evie can proudly place the star in her palm. “Perfect choice, baby,” she says, ruffling the little girl’s curls.

“Hey, Eve,” Nika calls from the couch. “Can I pick the next ornament?”

“No!” Evie says immediately, turning to look at her auntie with wide, scandalized eyes.

The entire room erupts in laughter, and Paige scoops Evie into her arms, peppering kisses on her cheeks. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re in charge tonight.”

Azzi watches them with a soft look on her face, her heart swelling at the sight of Paige laughing with their daughter. It’s loud and chaotic and entirely imperfect, but it’s theirs—this is home.

Just then, Evie runs to the window and presses her small hands against the glass. “Mama, Mommy! Deer!” she shouts excitedly, pointing outside.

Azzi and Paige exchange a surprised glance, walking over to the window just in time to see a small herd of deer grazing in their front yard, the snow lightly dusting their backs. The scene is serene, almost magical against the Christmas lights twinkling around their home.

“Well, looks like Santa’s helpers are here early,” Paige says with a grin.

Evie’s eyes light up. “Deers! Santa’s deers!”

Azzi wraps her arm around Paige’s waist, leaning in to whisper, “This is the Christmas magic I wanted for her.”

“Me too,” Paige replies softly, her voice filled with emotion as she pulls Evie into her arms, kissing the top of her head.

As the night goes on, the team makes themselves at home in every corner of the house. The tree gets decorated, stockings are hung, and the smell of cookies soon fills the kitchen as Evie proudly stands on a stepstool, helping Sarah and Caroline cut out shapes from the dough.

Paige sneaks a piece of cookie dough when Azzi isn’t looking, only to get swatted on the arm when she’s caught.

“Mommy!” Evie scolds, her little brows furrowed. “No eat dough.”

“Yeah, Mommy,” Azzi adds, giving Paige a pointed look.

“Traitors,” Paige mutters under her breath, though she can’t stop the grin tugging at her lips.

As the chaos swirls, Paige’s eyes narrow slightly as Morgan subtly nudges Azzi toward the dining room. “Az, can you help me for a second? These lights are tangled, and it’s a disaster.”

Azzi frowns, clearly suspicious. “Why can’t you ask KK or Amari?”

“They’ll just laugh at me,” Morgan says, pouting. “Come on, teamwork.”

Paige watches them disappear, her smirk growing as she turns back to the group. “Alright, you guys have five minutes, tops.”

“Five minutes to what?” Caroline asks, already grinning as Ice pulls a roll of wrapping paper out from behind the couch.

“To wrap Paige as Azzi’s present,” KK says gleefully, tearing a piece of tape with her teeth.

“Not this again, that’s not what we talked about,” Paige groans. “I swear—”

“Shut up it’s tradition,” Ice insists. “The wives have to be presents.”

“It’s dumb,” Paige grumbles, even as Nika swoops in to lift Evie. “Evie, do you want to help wrap Mommy?”

Evie gasps, her little hands clapping together. “Mommy’s a pwesent?!”

“Yep,” Nika confirms, pulling Evie into her lap with the red ribbon in hand. “Special delivery for Mama Azzi.”

“Traitors,” Paige mutters as Caroline and Amari start clearing space, KK expertly lining up wrapping paper. “Every single one of you.”

“You’ll survive,” Ice grins, pulling Paige toward the center of the room.

—————

Meanwhile, in the dining room, Azzi is watching Morgan fiddle pointlessly with a string of lights. “I still don’t understand why you needed—”

“Almost done!” Morgan blurts out nervously. “Just—wait here for a second, okay?”

Azzi squints at her suspiciously. “You’re stalling.”

Morgan flashes an awkward smile. “Team spirit?”

Azzi mutters under her breath as Morgan blocks the doorway again, a little too obviously.

Back in the living room, Paige stands awkwardly, her arms wrapped tightly against her body under crinkled red and white paper. Ice slaps a giant bow onto her shoulder while KK sticks the finishing tag to Paige’s chest. In wobbly toddler letters, it reads: “To Mama, From Mommy.”

“Perfect,” Caroline says, grinning at her work.

“Azzi’s gonna kill you,” Paige mutters as Evie bounces excitedly.

Amari peeks toward the dining room. “She’s coming back! Get ready.”

The lights dim slightly, and Evie squeals in anticipation as the team scurries into position.

Morgan finally gives up and pushes Azzi toward the doorway. “Go see your surprise.”

Azzi steps into the living room, freezing as her gaze lands on Paige—fully wrapped, ribbon-tied, and looking both annoyed and amused. “What… is happening?”

“Merry Christmas, Mama!” Evie cries gleefully, pointing at Paige. “Mommy’s pwesent!”

The team bursts into laughter as Paige shuffles forward, the paper crackling loudly. “Your wife is the best gift you’ll ever get.”

Azzi blinks, then breaks into a soft, helpless laugh. “Oh my God. You guys did this?”

Evie scrambles over to hug Paige’s leg, her little arms patting the paper. “Mommy’s pwetty,” she declares proudly.

Azzi walks over, shaking her head as she cups Paige’s face. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige smirks. “So… do you like your gift?”

Azzi leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s lips. “I think I’ll keep you.”

The team erupts into cheers, Evie clapping happily as Paige grins triumphantly. “Told you I was the best gift.”

“Wrapped and all,” Azzi teases softly, her gaze warm as she takes in the chaotic scene of their family. “Merry Christmas, P.”

Paige’s smile softens, her voice equally tender. “Merry Christmas, Az.”

—————

˖˙ ᰋ ── taglist:

@thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @juspeaks @sierrale8ne @imaginespazzi @makethemhoesmad @kmoneymartini @pazzilover101 @starlighttsv @lupinqs @absolutelydreadful @ashortyluvsports @melpthatsme @d3arapril @heyitssells

[luvhiromi]

emo boy! | choso

synopsis: fucking at the back of hot topic. Choso works at hot topic and you and your friends were shopping at the mall. inspired by Ayesha Erotica’s “Emo Boy”. fyi this is not complete yet idk if people are gonna like it so tell me if u want a part 2.

c/w: suggestive content and words, choso calls you sweetheart/sweets, muscle kink if u squint.

pairing: emo!choso x bimbo!reader

You and your friends, Jessica and Sarah, are on a mission to find dresses for your upcoming graduation at the mall. After hours of searching, you’ve diverted your attention to spending all your money on unnecessary cute and pretty clothes, needs for graduation long forgotten. Bags hanging on your forearms, you walk around the mall, giggling and gossiping with your friends. As you head toward the next shop, you spot a cute top in Hot Topic.

“Girlies, do you mind stopping by Hot Topic?” you ask abruptly, eyeing a cute top that would be perfect for the jeans you just bought. “Isn’t that top just the perfect match for my jeans?” you ask, directing your gaze toward the item. Your friends, who were walking, come to a halt and look in the direction you’re staring at.

“Hmmm, that’ll suit you for sure, babe,” Jessica, one of your closest friends, says, agreeing with you and nodding toward the store. “Let’s go inside; Hot Topic does have cute tops.” You and Sarah nod in agreement with Jessica’s suggestion and walk toward Hot Topic.

You go straight for the top you've been eyeing, but can't find your size. Looking around for assistance, you spot a worker helping another customer and approached him. You wait for him to finish before asking him for help.

As you wait, you watch the worker, admiring his striking appearance and build, especially his captivating back muscles. His long black hair is tied in a messy half-up ponytail. He’s using a “My Chemical Romance” merch and black jeans. You catch your breath and instinctively gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from someone so breathtakingly attractive. Biting your lips, you take him in once more, but suddenly he turns his back to you.

“Hi, can I help you find something?” he asked with a small smile on his face. I quickly shift my focus from his build to his face, which has prominent eye bags that make him look quite tired. Despite this, I can't deny that he’s still attractive. If I said he wasn’t hot, than I’d be lying. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with confusion as to why you’re just standing there without answering.

“Ma’am?” You flinched slightly at his words, finally snapping out of your trance. “Right! Uh, I just need help finding my size.” A light blush creeps onto your cheeks as you realize you’ve been ogling him the whole time. He chuckles lightly at your reaction. “Let me see what we have in the back; I’ll be back shortly, sweetheart.” Your blush deepens at the nickname, seeing your reaction he changed his mind. “How about you come with me so it’s faster, yeah?” he asks, nodding toward the back of the shop.

“Huh? Are you sure I’m allowed?” you ask, confused by his suggestion. “Of course, sweets. It’ll just be a sec,” he replies with a reassuring smile. You nod, and he guides you toward the back. As you look around trying to find your friends, you realize they’re nowhere to be seen. Not letting it bother you, you continue to follow him. He opens the door to the back and motions for you to come inside.

“Um, are you really sure I’m allowed in there?” you ask, still somewhat skeptical. “Oh, sweetheart, you really have no clue?” He chuckles at your reaction when you look at him, puzzled by his words. “I saw you ogling me, so I thought you understood what I meant. Let me rephrase it for you, sweets.”

He leans closer and whispers softly, sending shivers down your spine, “Wanna fuck at the back of Hot Topic?” Your breath catches, and you blush furiously at his words. “What?” you manage to ask. He gently grabs your wrist and guides you toward the storage room.

and… the rest is history :) pt 2? 

a/n: i got this idea yesterday and wrote it today. don't know if u guys like it or not. if someone have made this before lemme know so i can give credits. thank ya!

[lupinqs]

PROLOGUE ━━ Beginning of the End

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 3.8K

☆ ━ warnings: small mention of homophobia, underage drinking, think that’s all idrk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: hi!!!!! this is the prologue to my new hopkins p fic and i’m so excited cause it’s taken me so fucking long to actually get this whole fic cooked up but now it’s here and the chapters shouldn’t take too long to come out. anyways you could lowkey probably read this as a one-shot but i have so much more planned for paige and dani so if you wanna keep reading, just be prepared for lots of angst 😊

DANI CALLAN sits at the desk, curling the last remaining pieces of her hair, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface. It’s late May, and the warmth of the Minnesota summer is just beginning to set in, but the night air outside does little to soothe the sheer annoyance that has gripped the girl all day. Tonight is the last night she has with Paige before her best friend is whisked away for the summer due to her thousands of basketball obligations. And guess where they’re going?

A party.

A party. Dani fights the urge to scoff at the thought, jaw clenching.

Paige is excited, though. She’s been excited ever since her basketball buddy told her about it earlier this week, buzzing with energy. “It’ll be fun,” she said, her blue eyes shining with that infectious enthusiasm that makes Dani melt every time. “One last hurrah before I’m off to camps and Thailand and everything else.”

Dani tried to muster some enthusiasm, tried to match Paige’s smile, but she could feel her own fading before it ever really took hold. Because she doesn’t want to go to a party tonight. She doesn’t want to waste the precious few hours she and Paige have left together surrounded by a bunch of people they hardly know, shouting over music, drinking cheap alcohol, pretending to have a good time. Dani wants to be alone with Paige, have her best friend all to herself. She wants to talk. To laugh. To maybe, just maybe, get the courage to tell her what’s been weighing her shoulders down for months now.

But instead, they’re going to a party.

Dani sighs, turning the curling iron off as she catches her reflection in the mirror. Her hair falls in long, loose waves down her back, light makeup coating her face. She wears a simple tank top and jeans—nothing special. She doesn’t feel special tonight. She feels like she’s being cheated out of something, and she can’t even put her finger on what it is.

“Dani! You ready?”

Paige’s voice rings out from the hallway as she opens the door to her bedroom. Dani grabs her phone and looks up and over at Paige, who stands in the doorway with a radiant smile on her face. She’s dressed in all black—black leggings and a black long sleeve—with her favorite pair of lavender dunks on her feet. Her blonde hair’s been done up in its usual ponytail, and she’s got a little bit of mascara coating her lashes. She looks effortlessly beautiful, like she always does, and for a moment, Dani forgets all of her frustrations.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Dani lies, forcing a smile.

“Great, c’mon,” Paige says, grinning as she takes Dani’s hand, the pair of them leaving Paige’s house through the front door.

As they walk down the street, Dani can’t help but feel a pang in her heart. She’s grown up next to Paige, and this street, this neighborhood, has been their playground for as long as she can remember. Every corner holds a memory, every crack in the sidewalk a story. And, now, with Paige leaving tomorrow, Dani feels like she’s about to lose a piece of herself. Sure, after the summer they still have the entirety of their senior year together. But after that? Nothing. Because Paige will have summer sessions and be at UConn and become a basketball star and Dani will still be here. Of course, there’s been short, hopeful conversations about Dani going to Connecticut, too, so that they can spend their college years together. But Dani knows it’s unrealistic—her dad wants her to stay in Minnesota so she’ll stay in Minnesota. And Paige will be a thousand miles away, starting a new life that doesn’t involve her childhood best friend.

“Who’s all gonna be here tonight?” Dani asks as they walk along the sidewalk, trying to start conversation.

“Oh, everyone, I think,” Paige says, bobbing her head enthusiastically. “I mean, y’know probably like the same crowd from New Years. Maybe more, since some of Luca’s college friends are back. Ion know, prolly whoever’s in a five mile radius that’s wanting free booze. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

Dani nods and bites her lip, trying to swallow down her disappointment. “Yeah, fun,” she echoes, trying to sound convincing.

They walk in comfortable silence for a little while, Paige sometimes purposefully walking into Dani and making her stumble a little. Dani watches the blonde out of the corner of her eye, heart banging against her chest as if it’s a jail cell, forced to hold inside everything it longs to say. She wants to tell Paige that she doesn’t want to go to this party, that instead she wants to spend their night together, really together. She wants to tell Paige that the idea of losing her for three months—and then, once they graduate, for forever—has been tearing her apart inside.

But most of all, she wants to tell Paige that she loves her.

The thought has been haunting Dani for months now. It crept up on her slowly, in quiet moments and stolen glances, until now it’s become all she’s able to think about. She’s tried to push it down, tried to convince herself that it’s just a phase, just confusion. But the more she tries to ignore it, the more it seems to consume her.

Dani’s never been in love before. Sure, she’s dated boys in the past, liked them enough. But it’s never felt real, not like it does with Paige. Because Paige makes her feel alive in ways that no one else ever has. And that? That fucking scares the shit out of Dani. It scares her because she knows exactly how her dad would react if he ever found out. It scares her because she has no idea if Paige feels the same way. But most of all, it scares her because it’s not right—her liking another girl like this is wrong and it’s bad.

(Sometimes, though, it feels so right.)

And yet, tonight, with Paige leaving in the morning, Dani feels like she’s running out of time. Maybe tonight she can find the courage to say something—anything. Maybe tonight she can find the words.

(She doubts it.)

The party is already in full swing when Paige and Dani arrive. The house is packed with people, the music blaring so loud that the Callan girl can feel the bass thumping in her chest. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat, and Dani fights the urge to turn around and walk right back out the door. But Paige is already pulling her inside, their hands linked, her excitement palpable.

The pair make their way through the crowd, Paige greeting people left and right, voice loud and grin never wavering. Dani tries to keep up, tries to match her best friend’s energy—but she feels like she’s drowning in a sea of noise and bodies and it’s making her anxious.

It’s at times like these that Dani realizes just how different her and Paige are. Paige is outgoing and extroverted, a ball of energy and enthusiasm and it’s hard to ever keep her in a single place at once. She talks and talks and talks and she’s so charming she could probably make anyone fall in love with her. Dani’s the exact opposite. She’s introverted, preferring a small circle over a large one. She’s more withdrawn and quiet, and likes to listen instead of speak. She’s reserved and she doesn’t mind it—except when she’s at places like these.

“Hey, I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” Paige shouts over the music, leaning close to Dani’s ear.

“Okay,” the Callan girl nods, watching as the blonde disappears through the crowd.

Left alone, Dani takes a deep breath, glancing around the room. She recognizes a few faces, people from school, but none of them are close friends. None of them are Paige. She briefly talks to the boy that was her Chemistry partner for the majority of last semester, before excusing herself and gravitating towards a corner of the room, away from the chaos, where she can at least try to collect her thoughts.

As she stands there, watching the party unfold around her, Dani’s mind begins to wander. She thinks about how different things are gonna be this summer, without Paige. She thinks about the way Paige smiled at her earlier, how her touch sent shivers down Dani’s spine. She thinks about what it would be like to kiss her.

“Dani?”

She blinks, snapping out of her reverie at the sound of her name. She glances up to see Paige standing in front of her, two red solo cups in hand and a concerned expression painting her face.

“You okay?” the blonde asks, handing Dani one of the cups.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the girl replies, taking the cup and offering a weak smile. “Just… thinking.”

Paige’s concern doesn’t waver. “You sure? You seem kinda, like… Ion know, off tonight?”

Dani hesitates, the words on the tip of her tongue. She wants to tell Paige everything. She wants to pour out her heart right there, in the middle of this stupid party, and finally let her best friend know just how much she means to her. But the words don’t come, stuck in the back of the brunette’s throat. She can’t bring herself to say them.

Instead, Dani takes a sip of her drink—some sort of vodka lemonade, she thinks—and forces herself to smile. “I’m good. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. Big party.”

Paige studies her for a moment longer, blue eyes searching her best friend’s face for answers. Then, she seems to accept it, her grin returning as she leans in closer.

“Okay,” she agrees. “But lemme know if you need a break, yeah? We can always go out back on the swings for a bit or somethin’—just you and me.”

Just you and me. Dani’s heart skips a beat at the words, and she feel the tips of her ears beginning to redden like they always do when she’s flushed. However, before she can respond, someone calls out Paige’s name from across the room. The blonde girl glances over her shoulder, her smile widening when she catches sight of who’s beckoning her.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere,” Paige says, giving Dani’s arm a reassuring squeeze before heading off to greet some tall boy that Dani can only assume is another basketball player.

The brunette watches her best friend go, feeling a pang of disappointment settle in her chest. She’d been so close to saying something, so close to telling Paige how she really feels. But now, the moment is gone, swept away along with Paige, leaving Dani alone once again—albeit, with a drink this time.

The night wears on, and Dani tries her best to keep up with Paige’s energy, but it only seems to be getting harder and harder. Paige comes and goes, sometimes bringing Dani with her, sometimes not. She moves through the whole party, laughing and talking with everyone, her charming smile never faltering. For a while, Dani follows along with her best friend, almost like a lost puppy. It then dawns on her just how pathetic she is as she endures Paige’s conversations with basketball bro after basketball bro. Eventually, Dani can’t take it, excusing herself. As she walks away, it feels like it’s Paige slipping from her grasp, even though it was Dani that left the blonde girl’s side.

Dani finds herself in the kitchen, making herself another drink to keep busy. And then she downs it. And repeats the process. It makes things easier, more bearable.

She keeps going for far too long before a voice calling her name interrupts the ongoing process. Dani turns to see Thaliah Sommers, and, when her eyes set on the girl, her shoulders automatically relax and she breathes out a sigh of utter relief.

“Oh, thank God,” Dani whines, leaning into Thaliah and resting a head on the girl’s shoulder.

Thaliah has known Dani and Paige since the fourth grade, when the trio had to share a table for half the school year. It sparked a long-lasting friendship, and Dani and Paige would both probably tell you that other than each other, Thaliah is their best friend. And Jalen Suggs, too. Even though he goes to a different school, Paige and his basketball connection ended up becoming more genuine and the blonde had introduced the boy to Dani and Thaliah, which basically became history. The four clicked almost instantly, and they’ve been great friends since. But Dani knows Jalen isn’t here tonight—he’s out-of-state, for basketball. He won’t be back til the end of July, she’s pretty sure.

“You having fun?” Thaliah asks as she wraps a friendly arm around Dani’s side, letting the drunker girl lean on her. Dani shakes her head, pouting childishly. Thaliah chuckles a little at the sight. “Anxious?” she adds, knowing the Callan girl well.

“And disgusted,” Dani nods, watching a boy chug from a keg across the room, beer spewing around him.

Both girls laugh at the sight, and then Dani’s had enough, eyes flitting away from the scene to a different one. She wishes she would’ve kept her gaze on the boy instead. Because this is much worse.

Over, near the back door, Dani sees Paige. Paige Bueckers, clear as day, in the flesh. And she’s kissing someone. A girl. A pretty blonde girl that Dani doesn’t recognize. The sight hits Dani like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her.

She stares in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest as she watches Paige pull the girl closer, their bodies pressed together, their lips moving in perfect sync. Dani digs her fingers into the side of her solo cup, crumbling it slightly; she feels like she’s going to be sick.

“Even more so now,” Dani mumbles, referencing her last comment.

Thaliah’s eyes widen, starting, “Dani—”

But Dani won’t hear it. She won’t hear anything. Without thinking, she turns and practically bolts from the house, her drink forgotten on the counter as she pushes her way through the crowd. She needs to get out of here. She needs to breathe. She needs to get as far away from that sight as possible.

The cool night air hits her like a splash of cold water as she stumbles out onto the front lawn, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Her mind races, a jumbled mess of emotions that she can’t untangle. She feels betrayed, hurt, angry, but most of all, she feels stupid.

So fucking stupid.

Stupid for thinking that Paige could ever feel the same about her. Stupid for believing she had a chance. Stupid for letting herself become enough of a mess to not only like another girl romantically—but for that girl to be her best friend.

“Dani! Danielle, wait!”

Paige’s voice calls out from behind the girl, and Dani feels her heart lurch. She doesn’t want to stop. She doesn’t want to face Paige right now, not after what she just saw. But her feet betray her, slowing to a halt as she reaches the sidewalk.

Paige catches up to her, slightly out of breath, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. “Dan, what the hell? Why’d you just run out like that?”

Dani turns to face the basketball player, and the anger she’s been holding back finally begins to boil over. “Why do you think, Paige?” she snaps, voice trembling slightly as she tries to keep her eyes from swimming.

Paige frowns, clearly taken aback by the venom in her best friend’s words. “I don’t know!” she replies, throwing her hands up. “That’s why I’m asking! What’s going on with you tonight?”

Dani lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “What’s going on with me? What’s going on with me? You seriously don’t fucking get it, do you?”

Paige’s confusion only deepens. “No, I don’t! Dani, please, just talk to me—what happened? What’s wrong?”

Dani clenches her fists at her sides, trying to keep her voice steady. “I just watched you make out with some random girl, Paige! That’s what happened! That’s what’s wrong!”

Paige’s eyes widen with realization, her baby blues flitting across Dani’s face in almost a panic. She takes a step closer to her best friend as she quickly says, “Oh… oh, shit, Dani, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Exactly!” the Callan girl cuts her off, her voice rising. “You didn’t think! You never think! You don’t think about anyone but yourself!”

Paige recoils as if she’s been slapped, her face falling. “Dani, that’s not fair…”

“Isn’t it?” Dani shoots back, anger spilling over once more. “You didn’t even care that this was our last night together! You didn’t care that I wanted to spend it with you, just the two of us! You only cared about going to this stupid party and kissing some random girl! Like I don’t even matter to you!”

Paige’s eyes fill with tears, and she reaches out to touch her best friend’s arm, but she jerks away. “Dani, please, that’s not true. I promise you it’s not. You matter to me more than anything. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

The brunette’s anger begins to wane, instead replaced by the overwhelming sadness that’s been building inside her all night. Her eyes swim and blur as her voice softens, shaking with emotion. “Then why does it feel like I’m losing you? Why does it feel like if I don’t hold onto you as tight as possible, you’ll slip away from me?”

Paige stares at her, eyes shining with unshed tears. For a long moment, neither of them say anything. The only sound is the distant hum of the party and the rustle of leaves with the breeze. Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, her pulse quickening with each second that passes.

Finally, Paige takes a deep breath and takes a step closer to Dani, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not losing me, Dan. I promise you, you’re not.”

Dani stares at her, vision blurred with tears, voice breaking. “Then why does it feel like I am?”

Paige stands still for a long moment, shutting her eyes tightly. When she opens them again, tears begin to spill down her cheeks. “Danielle,” she starts quietly, and Dani’s eyebrows furrow slightly at the usage of her full name. “Danielle, I have been in love with you since the sixth grade.” The statement makes the brunette’s eyes widen, jaw going slack, as her own tears finally begins to fall. “Remember when I got that concussion, at my game? You— you came to my house as soon as you found out, and you were crying at the thought of me being hurt. And I was the one that had to console you. And— and then you”—Paige sniffles and swipes a hand across her nose—“you kissed me on the head and told me that you would always take care of me. And that was when I knew. I knew that I loved you and that I could never ever really be with anyone that wasn’t my best friend, Danielle Lizzie Callan. I knew it then, and I—I know it now.”

Paige pauses, and then her voice breaks even more when she starts again, “But I’ve been so scared to tell you. I never thought you liked girls, I always thought you were straight. There was no way you could love me back, right? And I—I know how your dad feels about it all, and you know how long it took me to even tell you I liked girls because I was afraid that you felt the same way towards it that he did. And even when I found out you didn’t, I still thought that a girl being in love with you—that me being in love with you—would disgust you and you’d hate me for it. So I never said anything.”

Paige ducks her head as a sob cuts through her throat. Dani takes a step closer, reaching up to cup her best friend’s face in her hands.

“I don’t hate you, Paige. I could never hate you,” she tells the blonde sincerely, keeping her voice even. “And I could never hate you, because I’m in love with you, too.”

Before Paige can say anything, Dani leans in and presses her lips to the blonde’s. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if they’re both waiting for the other to pull away. Even if Dani feels her cross necklace begin to burn into her skin, she can’t stop. She won’t.

All the anger, all the hurt, all the confusion seems to melt away in that moment, leaving only the overwhelming relief of finally, finally knowing that Paige feels the same way. Dani keeps on kissing her, hands slipping from her cheeks to the nape of her neck as Paige’s hands find their way to Dani’s waist.

It isn’t perfect. It’s messy, and frantic, and a little sloppy, but it’s real. And it’s them.

When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing hard, their foreheads resting together as they try to catch their breath. Dani feels like she’s floating, feels like she’s dreaming, and she doesn’t ever want to wake up.

“I love you,” Paige whispers. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Dani feels her heart swell up with so much happiness it might just burst. “I love you, too, P. So much.”

They don’t go back to the party. Instead, they go to Dani’s house, where they planned to have a sleepover anyways. The walk is short, and they do it hand-in-hand, swaying a little and giggling a lot. When they get to Dani’s porch and the girl begins to shuffle for her keys, Paige takes the opportunity to peck her neck from behind over and over and over again, whispering in the girl’s ear, “I love you.”

It’s so refreshing to hear Paige say it that, for a moment, Dani forgets about her keys and pulls her best friend in for another kiss on the mouth, closing her eyes and savoring it.

Eventually, they do get inside and find their way up into Dani’s bedroom. They change, and shuffle their way under the covers, bodies close, skin touching. Dani tries not to think about her father in the room beside hers, or the bible on her bedside table.

“I don’t want to leave you tomorrow,” Paige murmurs against Dani’s collarbone, sighing.

Dani’s heart slows at the thought, a deep pang, but she knows that there isn’t another option. “I don’t want you to leave either. But we’ll be okay. We’ll miss each other, but we’ll be okay.”

Paige nods, looking up and letting her eyes flit across Dani’s face as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of it. “Yeah, we will.”

(They won’t.)

[beah388love]

My Distraction

Full Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!f1Driver

Summary: Lando is getting interviewed but gets distracted…

Warnings: Swearing,Bad language!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

“So how are you feeling after that?” The interviewer asked Lando, lando answered but as he looked behind the interviewer he saw you talking to one of your friends and he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“I- uh sorry what was the question?” Lando asked making the interviewer laugh as he repeated himself.

Lando answered his question but quickly stealing glances at you, god your so pretty.

Even after racing, he watched you take your helmet off and your beautiful hair fall down past your shoulders and not to mention your eyes and god- your smile

Lando has always said that he’d have to pick death between the choice of your eyes or smile. He loves them both so much…his favourite thing is making you smile and laugh but he loves staring into your eyes, they’re so…pretty and you can make him stumble over his words in seconds.

“Sorry just one last question and we’ll let you go-“ the interviewer said but Lando hadn’t even heard him as all his attention and focus was on you, you was in your black and blue race suit and you had even matched your earrings, he couldn’t totally see but he could see the same colour matched blue sparkling in the light.

God. You’re so fucking beautiful.

“Lando?” The interviewer cut him out of his thoughts

“Huh? Oh- sorry! Yeah no I totally agree-“ Lando carried on his conversation with the man and thankfully since it was the last question he quickly left and hurried over to you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly making you jump “lan! You scared me” you giggled making him grin into your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful y’know that?” He said into your ear making you blush and roll your eyes playfully

“I don’t know half the questions that man just asked me…your beauty kept distracting me” Lando laughed making you giggle and hit his chest jokingly.

“My distraction” Lando whispered into your ear, tucking a finger behind your necklace that obviously has his initials on and pulling it so you were close enough for him to kiss you on the lips, making you blush and hide your face into his chest.

“Babyyyy” you giggled making him smirk and poke his tongue into the inside of his cheek.

“Yesssssss” he teased in the same tone as you.

“Do we have to do anything else or can we leave?” You asked and he thought for a moment as his free hand played with your hair and the other you was playing with, connecting your fingers and linking each one to distract you.

“Nope we can leave” he said as he interlocked your hands and swung them gently as you walked back to your drivers rooms to grab your stuff,

“Baby!” Lando called out and you poked your head into his room confused

“C’mere” he said as he grabbed something off the sofa.

You walked over to him confused, until he placed one of his caps on your head, pulling your ponytail through the gap making you roll your eyes with a smile, “there. Perfect.” He smirked as he looked down at you, you stood there with a ‘really?’ Look.

“We’re ready to leave now.” He laughed making you poke him in the stomach, he flinched back laughing.

You was about to say something but he cut you off as he playfully hit the rim of your his cap down covering your eyesight.

“Lando Norris!” You half-yelled when your vision went black making him chuckle as he ran away already expecting you to get him back.

You catched up with him and jokingly hit him on the back of the head, you both laughed before he wrapped an arm around you as you both left.

“My beautiful Distraction.” He grinned

“My childish distraction” you sighed teasingly

[ln4bub]

59+Oscar. I was thinking they just had (vanilla) sex and as they’re lying in bed she says this and he’s immediately like, aight bet.

(Also this was the anon who sent in the 7 minutes in heaven one, thought I’d un anon myself, lol)

I am dropping everything to write this request immediately, you are an oscar piastri smut genius. I altered the prompt ever so slightly to match the reader's vibe but enjoy <3

------------------------------------------------

Your relationship with Oscar was relatively new, the two of you still getting to know each other's bodies. Oscar had always been quite a shy person, never really expressing much beyond a smile and a nod in interviews. With you he was different, soft and loving, very affectionate; something that translated into the bedroom. Hands held, missionary, forehead kisses - always very gentle.

Don't get it wrong, Oscar was a gentleman, always making sure you finished first, but there was only so much you could take before wanting to switch it up. Your head is currently lead on Oscar's hard chest, his arms wrapped around you as he breathes deeply. "You okay baby? You've been quiet since we finished." He questions, stroking his thumb up and down your arm.

"'m just thinking." You mumble, tilting your head to look at him.

"What about?" He asks, slight concern etched onto his features. You sigh, sitting up, "Do you ever want to try something different?" You ask. His eyebrows furrow, lips jutting out in a pout, "Different?" He questions.

"Like, don't take it the wrong way, that sex was good, it was so good. But next time, could you maybe do it harder?" You murmur shyly, avoiding eye contact with the Australian.

"Harder?" He asks, curiosity taking over. He pulls you into him, now straddling his waist, his hands resting on your hips. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you harder?" He questions, voice dropping with lust, his lips skating over your pulse point. "Want me to hold you down and fuck you like a whore?" He whispers in your ear, capturing your earlobe between his teeth, making you whine.

Your legs squeeze around his hips, yours beginning to grind lightly as he lays kisses over your neck. His pillowy lips suck against your pulse point, tongue laving over the red mark he left behind. His bite is slightly harder than usual, causing your nails to dig in to the flesh of his shoulders. He moans against you at the sting, turning you around and bending you over.

“Still dripping from the last time we fucked and my girl is just aching for my cock isn’t she?” He teases, watching the way you clench around nothing. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them down to press against your g-spot. Your knees almost give out with the pleasure but he’s quick to remind you that this was what you wanted.

Oscar positions himself behind you before sliding his cock inside you, groaning at your tightness. You moan out at the feeling of being stuffed full, your head drooping. Oscar’s hand loops your hair into a ponytail around his fist, pulling your hair back before he slams himself in and out of you.

“My girl’s taking me so well ay, is this what you wanted? Wanted to be fucked so hard your pretty little ass turns red?” He asks, his free hand coming down to hit you. You scream out his name, your walls providing a vice-like grip.

“There we go, that’s it, such a good girl for me. If I’d known this was how you liked to be fucked I would’ve had you cock drunk like this much sooner. Would’ve had those beautiful eyes crying for my dick.” He groans, pulling your hair tighter as he fucks you harder, faster.

“Oh god Oscar, please don’t stop, ‘m gonna cum.” You whimper, your legs slowly sliding down the mattress until you’re practically led on your stomach.

“Wanna feel you cum, wanna feel how good I make my perfect girl feel. Come on baby.” Oscar begins guiding you to your orgasm, gentle kisses to your neck contrasting the brutal pace of his hips. He feels your walls tightening further, your back arching into him. The moan of his name you let out is enough to send him over the edge, his cum filling you up.

He slides his cock out of your pussy, spreading your legs to watch the way his cum leaks out. Two fingers find the apex of your thighs, swiping through the combination of your juices before running over your lips. You open your mouth, eagerly taking in his thick fingers and he smiles, eyes beaming.

A gentle kiss to the forehead and a whispered promise of a bath is all it takes for you to fall asleep happy, dreaming of the escapades you and Oscar can now enjoy.

[meazalykov]

touchy

catarina macario x chelsea!uswnt!reader

summary: you don't know what to do with your hands, so you choose to always hold your lover

it’s a crisp evening in london, the sun already dipping below the horizon as you and the rest of girls at chelsea finish up the last few drills of training for the night. 

the air feels charged, excitement ahead of the match against madrid tomorrow. however, your attention keeps straying to catarina, like it always does.

she’s standing off to the side now, stretching out her legs, her curly ponytail swaying as she rolls her shoulders back. you���ve been together for 18 months—18 months of loving her, being loved by her—and still, you can’t help it. 

your hands ache to do something, to hold something, and more often than not, it’s her. so you jog over, not caring about the looks or the teasing you’ll probably get.

“y/n, what do you want now?” catarina asks, her voice light as she grins up at you wearing the pink chelsea training kit.

“you,” you answer easily, slipping your arms around her waist from behind and pulling her close. you hear her chuckle softly, her hands coming up to rest on your forearms. the sound of her laugh never fails to settle something inside you.

“seriously? we’re still training,” she teases, though she doesn’t make any attempt to move away.

“y/n!” lucy’s voice cuts through, loud and exasperated. you look up just in time to see a ball flying straight at you. you shift slightly, one arm still wrapped around cat, and catch it with your free hand.

“wha–what is this?” you say, raising an eyebrow as you hold up the ball.

lucy smirks, hands on her hips. 

“you can hold it, y/n. now you’ve got something else to do with your hands.”

catarina bursts out laughing in your arms, her shoulders shaking as she leans back into you. you roll your eyes, throwing the ball lazily back to lucy.

“that’s lame, lucy,” you shoot back, pressing your face into cat’s hair. 

“try harder next time.”

“lame? excuse me?” lucy huffs, but you can hear the grin in her voice as she throws the ball to the side and jogs off toward sjo and lauren.

millie jogs past at the perfect moment, her voice ringing out loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“look at the lovebirds, will you? it’s like we’re not even here.”

lucy throws her hands up dramatically in mock disgust. 

“ugh, get a room, you two. it’s unbearable.”

“you love it,” millie fires back, grinning as she ruffles lucy’s hair.

lucy tries to scowl, but she doesn’t fool anyone. 

“no, i don’t!” she protests.

cat’s still laughing, twisting around in your arms so she can look at you properly. 

“you really don’t care, do you?”

“about what?” you ask, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

“all the teasing,” she replies, smiling softly. her eyes are warm, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

“nope,” you say without hesitation. 

“gives me an excuse to hold you more. i’ve gotta do something with my hands, right?”

the way cat’s smile widens sends a flutter through your chest. she lifts her arms to loop around your neck, tugging you closer.

“you’re ridiculous,” she says, her voice quiet now, like the two of you are the only ones left on the pitch.

“yeah,” you murmur back, leaning in until your forehead rests against hers. “but you love it.”

she tilts her head slightly, pretending to think it over. 

“do i?”

you pull back just enough to raise an eyebrow at her, and she laughs, squeezing your neck lightly before pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“okay, i’m joking,” she says softly. 

“i love you.”

“i love you, too,” you answer quietly, meaning every word.

from somewhere off to the side, you hear lucy yell, “they’re doing it again!”

“oh, shut up, lucy!” millie calls back.

cat just shakes her head, laughing softly as she leans into you again, and you decide there’s no better place for your hands to be than exactly where they are—holding her, always holding her.

masterlist

[ophelisstuff]

hiii! could u write some head cannons for Caitlin?

DATING CAITLIN CLARK HEADCANONS

authors note : i’ve actually been wanting to do this for a while but procrastinating smmm. But thank you to the person who requested this ! And i’m making a tag list ! dm me to be apart of it <3

requested by : anon

caitlin clark x reader headcanons

warnings : none

• Overprotective girlfriend who hates when you give anyone else your attention.

• “Well it seems like your friends company is better than mine.”

• Her mind is full of smart remarks, always giving an attitude whenever something doesn’t go the way she planned

• You always catching her mid eye roll and scolding her for it.

• Caitlin would try and teach you every sport she’s good at. Or trying to teach you the basics so you’d understand them.

• You two most definitely have a secret handshake, which Caitlin spent hours perfecting

• You help her pack for away games because she has absolutely no idea how to pack a suitcase the right way

• Her camera roll being full of pictures of you, and her lockscreen being a photo of you two

• Caitlin gifting you a necklace with her initials for your birthday, never wanting you to take it off.

• Always having her arm around your waist when in public, giving every stranger that looks your way an intimidating look.

• Hating when you aren’t able to attend her basketball games because she considers you to be her good luck charm

• Caitlin would refuse to talk to anyone except you after loosing a game, too upset to conversation with anyone else

• She’s always quick to shut down any hate targeted towards you, not caring who’s feelings she hurts.

• Caitlin giving you unnecessary attitude for no reason

• “Well no duh. Who didn’t know that already?”

• Her bringing you up in interviews and loving to showcase your beauty during special events

• An absolute sucker for naps, she falls asleep on your chest while watching movies

• The two of you clearing your schedule to have saturday rest days, to just stay home and cuddle all day long

• Caitlin refusing to let anyone touch her hair except you. Not trusting anyone else to do her signature ponytail except herself or you

• Always trying to take you on surprise dates no matter what day of the week it is.

• Always buying you shoes that’ll match hers.

• When she gets a new pair of sneakers, she’ll see if you want them too

• Caitlin having you wear her jerseys at almost all of her games so people know you’re taken.

• Her trying to assemble every piece of furniture you guys own by herself and refusing help

• You two would definitely have promise rings that would never come off of your fingers.

• Caitlin refusing to let you open the car door yourself and always wanting to open it for you

• Asking you to do her makeup for special events, because she doesn’t want anyone close to her face except you.

• You two definitely being dog moms and spoiling the pets like they’re real children.

• Caitlin hating when it’s her turn to doing the dishes, and procrastinating when it’s time to do so.

• “Well, it’s not my fault the sink isn’t getting hot enough!”

• You buying matching pajamas for the two of you and Caitlin pretending to hate them when she loves them.

[p0orbaby]

Official Business

summary: who doesn’t like a bit of shopping?

warnings: nowt

a/n: could never be me. firstly im not rich enough, and secondly im terrible at keeping secrets

word count: 1.3k

-

It starts as a bit of a lark.

You’re bored one evening, halfway through a bottle of vintage Château Margaux that costs more than the average person’s yearly salary. You’re flipping through channels, skipping past the usual array of aristocrats grumbling about the decline of society, when you land on the Arsenal match. Leah’s there, of course, and you watch as she commands the field like a general leading her troops into battle. You’ve always admired that about her—how she seems so in control, so sure of herself, even when everything around her is pure chaos. You’re about three glasses deep when you think, I could buy this whole damn club.

It’s one of those ridiculous ideas that’s supposed to stay in your head, but a few phone calls and a meeting with some old schoolmates who now dabble in sports management, and suddenly, the idea isn’t so ridiculous anymore.

Suddenly, it’s very, very real.

You start sending emails and making secret trips to boardrooms filled with men who look like they’ve never kicked a ball in their lives, discussing terms and shares and God knows what else. The whole thing is absurd, like some kind of billionaire’s midlife crisis.

You manage to keep it all hush-hush because, really, who would ever suspect you? Leah certainly doesn’t. She knows you’re filthy rich, of course, but she’s under the impression you spend most of your time doing rich-people things, like attending charity galas and organising your pearl collection. She has no idea that in between afternoon tea and polo practice, you’re negotiating the purchase of her football club.

Which is exactly why, when you bump into her at Colney after one particularly mundane meeting, you nearly have a heart attack.

You’re not supposed to be here. You don’t belong in places like this—places that smell like sweat and ambition. But you’re here anyway because some idiot on the board thought it would be a good idea for you to meet the coaching staff, and now you’re walking out of the building, trying to look like you belong, when suddenly your very beautiful, very oblivious girlfriend is in front of you.

She looks at you with that familiar pairing of amusement and affection, like she’s not entirely sure what you’re doing, but she finds it endearing nonetheless. “What are you doing here?” she asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Oh, you know, just... supporting the team,” you reply, which is technically true, though not in the way she thinks.

“Supporting the team?” Leah repeats, raising an eyebrow. She’s in her training gear, hair pulled back into a ponytail, and you can see the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. You’re suddenly aware of how out of place you look in your tailored coat and Louboutins.

“Yes, well,” you stammer, trying to think of a plausible excuse. “I thought I’d drop by, see how things are going. Very exciting, all this football business”

“Football business?” She laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die because you know how silly you sound. “Right. Sure. You’ve been keeping up with the league standings, then?”

“Of course,” you lie. You have no idea where they are in the table. You just know that you’re about to own them, which seems more important.

Leah just shakes her head, clearly amused, and you think you’re in the clear. But then she asks, “Who were you meeting with? Looked serious”

Your heart skips a beat. “Oh, just some... business people. Nothing important.” You wave a hand dismissively, but Leah’s eyes narrow.

“Business people? At the training ground?”

“Yes, well, they’re... sponsors,” you say quickly. “Potential sponsors. Big money, you know. Thought I’d try to drum up some support”

Leah tilts her head, scrutinising you like she’s trying to figure out what’s really going on. You can practically feel the sweat dripping down your back, which is just great because this coat is dry clean only.

But then she just shrugs. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?” she says, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But I’m glad you’re here”

And with that, she jogs off, leaving you standing there, heart racing and wondering how the hell you’re going to keep this secret from her.

-

The next few days are a blur of increasingly absurd attempts to keep Leah from finding out what you’re up to.

You start volunteering more information about Arsenal than she ever asked for, throwing around terms like “4-3-3 formation” and “high press” as if you actually know what they mean. Leah just smiles and nods, probably thinking you’ve become some kind of obsessive superfan overnight.

You even go so far as to attend a match, sitting in the executive box and pretending you’re just there to enjoy the game when in reality, you’re mentally calculating how much it’ll cost to replace the outdated lighting in the concourse.

It all comes to a head one evening when you’re lounging on the sofa, pretending to read a book but actually trying to figure out how to sneak away for yet another clandestine meeting. Leah’s sitting across from you, scrolling through something on her phone. She’s been giving you these looks lately, suspicious, narrowed eyes like she’s trying to figure you out. It’s unnerving.

Finally, she puts down her phone and looks at you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You feign innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting weird,” she says bluntly. “Like, really weird. You suddenly know everything about Arsenal, you’re at London Colney talking to ‘business people,’ and now you’re going to matches? You hate crowds”

You open your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. She’s got you there.

Leah crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair with that look she gets when she’s about to win an argument. “So, spill. What’s going on?”

You consider your options. You could keep lying, but at this point, it feels like you’re trapped in a comedy of errors, and the only way out is to just come clean.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “Okay, fine. I’m buying Arsenal”

Leah blinks at you. Then she blinks again. “What?”

“I’m buying Arsenal,” you repeat, as if saying it again will make it any less ridiculous. “The football club”

She just stares at you, mouth slightly open. For a moment, you think she might laugh, but then she just says, “You’re serious”

“Yes”

“You’re buying a football club”

“Yes”

“Arsenal”

“Yes”

She shakes her head slowly, like she’s trying to wrap her mind around it. “Why?”

“Because I can,” you say, which is the truth, but also probably not the best answer you could have given.

Leah finally laughs, but it’s that slightly hysterical laugh people do when they don’t know how else to react. “You’re insane. Do you know that? You’re absolutely insane”

“Probably,” you agree.

She stands up, pacing the room as if moving will help her process this information. “So all this time, all those meetings, that’s what you were doing? Buying a football club?”

“Yes”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you say, which is technically true, though you didn’t exactly think this far ahead.

Leah stops pacing and looks at you, hands on her hips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’m aware”

There’s a long pause, and you wonder if she’s going to be mad or just collapse from shock. But then she walks over to you, a grin slowly spreading across her face. “Well, I guess I should start calling you ‘boss,’ then”

You laugh, relieved that she’s taking it in stride. “Only if you want to. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘supreme overlord of all things football’”

Leah snorts. “Don’t push it”

You grin, and she leans down to kiss you, still shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable,” she murmurs against your lips.

“So I’ve been told,” you reply, pulling her closer.

[pitchsidestories]

the three musketeers II Caroline Graham Hansen x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2227

a/n: hi, it's based off this request here, we hope you enjoy it.

It was an important match day for Caroline Graham Hansen’s club but for now you and your lover lay peacefully asleep in your bed. Considering your last relationship with the father of your child ended in disaster being together with her felt like a save haven.

The Norwegian and you were completely opposite characters but because the love you had for each other it worked out great. Light steps signalled that your daughter Maya was in your bedroom now.

“Wake up mamis, today’s game day!”, she yelled excitedly into your and your girlfriend’s ear.

With a glance at your phone clock, you turned around to her, muttering softly: “Love, it’s way too early. You’ve to let Caro sleep.”

“But the sun is already out.”, your child pouted while pointing at the window.

Meanwhile, Caroline started to speak, her voice still heavy with sleep:” Coffee.”

“I’ll make you some.”, you promised her.

Eyes still closed the forward hold you back smiling: ”Thanks, don’t forget Mayas hot chocolate, kjaerste.”

“I’d never.”, you grinned at her.

“Caro, you’re awake!”, Maya noticed happily, wrapping her arms around the tall woman for a hug.

“Yes, I am. Hard to keep sleeping with you jumping on the bed.”, Caroline groaned as she hid her face in the little girl’s hair.

She gave her an apologetic look:” Oh, sorry. I’m just so excited.”

“Excited to walk on the pitch with me later today?”, Caroline asked her, it warmed the Norwegians heart to see the child being so thrilled to go to a game because it reminded her that she was once just like her.

You returned with an amused smile on your lips as the hot beverages were waiting to be ready:” She’s. Maya told everyone in kindergarten about it.”

“Oh, she did?”, Caroline lifted her eyebrow in surprise.

Immediately Mayas cheeks turned red:” Yes.”

“They must all be jealous.”, the Barcelona player winked at her.

“They’re”, with a shy smile your daughter added, Caro, can I wear one of your scrunchies?”

“How about we get you dressed first and after that, you can pick out a scrunchie.”, the Norwegian suggested warmly.

“Okay.”

“Come on.”, with these words Caroline helped the little girl out of bed who was quickly running into the direction of your bathroom.

Only a few minutes later you announced:” She’s ready.”

“Go pick your scrunchie.”, the football player whispered. Watching that wholesome scene between them you could feel your heart melting.

Deeply concentrated Maya touched each hairband individually before lifting the one into the air which she chose to wear:” I like the purple one.”

“Want me to put it in your hair or do you want to wear it on your wrist?”, Caroline wanted to know from the girl.

For a second she thought about it before replying:” Hmm.. I want to wear it like you do.”

“Okay, come here.”, your girlfriend chuckled while she put Maya’s hair into a ponytail.

“It looks adorable.”, you mumbled in awe at the sight of them with their identical hairstyles in front of you.

Maya tilted her head from side to side, her tiny ponytail bobbing with every movement.

Caroline held out her hand to your daughter, who happily grabbed it: “Let’s go and get your hot chocolate. I really need some coffee.“

Your girlfriend flashed you a grin as they walked past you into the kitchen.

You followed with a smile on your lips: “It’s all ready.“

Caroline sat Maya onto her chair. A routine that has become established in the past few months.

You watched as Caroline measured the temperature of the hot chocolate with her finger before handing the colourful plastic cup to your daughter, making sure she would not burn herself while drinking. This small gesture made your heart flutter for a moment.

Caroline then grabbed her own cup of coffee and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek: “Thank you.“

“You’re welcome, mi amor.“, you replied cheerfully.

You girlfriends cheeks turned slightly red. She still had not gotten used to the pet names.

“Caro’s blushing!“, Maya yelled out, followed by a loud giggle.

The football player grimaced: “I’m not.“

“Oh, or did Miss Norway forget her sunscreen before training?“, you teased her.

“Oh, shut up!“, she laughed, shaking her head.

“No.“

“No?!“, she repeated with feigned offense.

You smirked at her: “Make me.“

“I’ll.“

“I’m waiting.“, you laughed as Caroline pulled you towards her. Just as your lips were about to meet, a tiny hand pushed your face away from your girlfriends.

“No, hurry. We don’t want to be late.“, Maya protested.

Caroline rolled her eyes: “Maya.“

You shrugged: “Well, you heard her…“

“Fine.“

With a wink, you leaned over to whisper so only Caroline could hear it: “You know she’ll be very tired after the game today. So I guess we can continue later.“

“We’ll see about that. Either she’s tired or she’s bouncing off the walls after the game.“, she replied, looking over at your daughter.

“Like this morning.“, you added with a laugh.

“Typical.“

“Time to go!“, Maya interrupted you again impatiently.

Caroline sighed before picking her up: “Yes, calm down.“

Arrived at the stadium at the same time as the other players. As Ingrid caught sight of your daughter, she dropped her bag and squatted down with her arms wide open: “Maya, min lille!“

Without hesitation she ran into her arms: “Ingrid, Mapi!“

“There’s our ice princess Caro.“, Mapi laughed.

Caroline shook her head: “Would you please leave my mascot alone.“

“But she’s so cute!“, Ingrid pouted.

“She’s not here for you.“

You smiled to yourself. Your daughter was obviously in good hands here.

Mapi gave you a wink before linking arms with you to walk together towards the stands.

Meanwhile Alexia smirked at the little girl:” Maya, who’s your favourite player?”

“Uhm..”, she started, clearly afraid to give a wrong answer to the captains question.

Seeing her this distressed the blonde reassured her:” It’s okay, you don’t to answer it.”

“Okay, I like you all.”, she replied in an honest tone.

“That’s a great reply, now we need to get in line though, the game is about to start.”, Ingrid intervened smiling.

“Caro?”, Maya pulled at the taller woman’s jacket.

With a warm smile Caroline looked down to her:” Yes?”

“Can I hold your hand?”, the girl asked nervously.

“Of course you can. Ready Maya?”, the Norwegian wanted to know from your daughter, while taking her small hand into hers.

“Ready. Are you?”, Maya nodded.

“Yes, I’m ready too.”, as they walked into the stadium, the Barcelona player pointed into the direction where you and Mapi were sitting in the stands, do you see, mami? She’s over there.”

Following Carolines Finger, the girls face lit up once she spotted you:” Yes!”

“Let’s wave at her so she knows that we’re seeing her.”, the Norwegian suggested before they waved at you together. Only a moment later it was time for Maya to leave the pitch but before she was doing that, your daughter gave the Barcelona player a quick hug.

With the help of one of the staff members, the girl quickly found Mapi and you, looking overjoyed:” Hi, mum.”

“Maya, hi, did you enjoy walking out with Caro?”, you questioned her.

“Mami, that was so cool, so many people and Caro wasn’t nervous at all.”, Maya answered enthusiastically.

Grinning Mapi commented on your daughter’s story:” Oh, she’s a bit nervous, trust me. Caro wants to perform well when her girls are watching.”

“Really?”, the girl glanced at the defender. She paused for a second before continuing:” Are Mami and I her girls?”

“Yes, you two are her girls.”, the Spanish woman confirmed.

Beaming Maya told her:” I like that.” You couldn’t be happier about such a declaration from your daughter, who was so welcoming toward your girlfriend.

After the match Carolina saw how Irene was getting her son to celebrate the glorious win, which made her want to do the same. Smiling she walked to the place you both were standing:” Maya, do you want to come down here.”

“Can I, mami?”, your daughter turned around to expectantly look at you.

“Sure.”, you responded encouragingly.

This was enough for Maya who ran quickly on to the pitch into the open arms of your girlfriend who was chuckling out loud:” Look at you, walking around here like a professional.”

“Mateo still needs a little practice.”, the girl observed laughing.

“He’s still small.”, Caroline reminded her.

“Yeah, tiny.”

“Yes, true.”, the Norwegian agreed.

“Maya, Mateo wants to say hi to you.”, Irene interrupted their talk in a kind voice.

“Mateo, hi.”, Maya greeted the smaller boy politely.

Watching this scene unfold, Ingrid chirmed:” Cuties.”

“Look at them hugging.”, Mateos mum hummed.

“That’s him telling you welcome to the Barca family.”, Mariona explained to your daughter.

Playfully Caroline wrinkled her nose:” This is disgustingly cute.”

Irene looked at her and slightly offended repeated: “Disgustingly?“

“You know Caro, Irene.“, Ingrid laughed.

“I thought things would get better now that she’s a mum too.“, Irene joked.

While you walked towards them to join them on the field, you recognized that the smile had disappeared from your girlfriends face.

You politely smiled at the other players and put a hand on Carolines arm: “She’s trying.“

“Mami?“ Mayas voice called.

You looked down at where she was pulling at the hem of your shirt: “Yes?“

“When can we go home?“ The toddler rubbed at her eyes, a clear sign that she was getting tired.

Before you could answer, Caroline scooped her up into her arms: “We can go now.“

“Okay.“, she mumbled into her chest.

Even though the car ride home was short, Maya barely managed to stay awake. You had watched her eyes close in the rearview mirror. As soon as you stopped the car, Caroline turned towards your daughter: “Tired, Maya?“

“No!“, she murmured, her eyes still closed.

Caroline chuckled: “I can tell.“

She got out of the car before picking up Maya from her seat and carrying her inside.

“No problem, she can have a nap while I’m starting to cook.“, you suggested while you walked inside the house together.

Caroline nodded once: “I’ll bring her to bed.“

“Thank you.“ You leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your daughters forehead. She was now fully asleep in your girlfriends arms.

You started cooking pasta while Caroline left with Maya. It was not the first time that she tucked your daughter in, but it still made you feel warm inside.

A sheet of paper on the kitchen table caught your attention, right as you were about to start with the sauce.

You wiped your hands on a dish towel and skimmed over the document.

The words on the first few lines made your heart skip a beat but you had to suppress a gasp as you saw Carolines signature on it.

Caroline returned into the kitchen in that exact moment, you held up the paper and whispered: “What is that?“

Your girlfriend bit her lip, nervous energy was radiating off of her.

She took a deep breath before answering with an unusually shaky voice: “I… uhm… I thought if we want this to be something longterm, we should be a family on paper too.“

There was nothing you could do. Your eyes immediately welled up with tears. You put the adoption papers back on the table and walked towards your girlfriend: “Caro, this means a lot… you know that?“

“You know, we can just throw this in the trash if you don’t want this.“, she started but you pulled her towards you into a hug.

“No, I want this.“, you sniffed. Tears ran down your cheeks, moved by this beautiful gesture.

“You do?“

You nodded, lifting your head to meet Carolines eyes: “Yes, I’m very sure and so is Maya. Her face lit up when Mapi called me and her your girls.“

“We still should ask if she wants that too.”, your girlfriend thought out loud.  

“Maybe after we had dinner?”, you suggested.

“Yes.”

Both of you were nervous when it came to finally asking your daughter the important question. Unlike Maya who looked serious between Caroline and you:” So, what did you want to ask me?”

“She sounds like she’s the mum and we’re the children.”, the Norwegian commented amused.

“She does.”, you admitted laughing, feeling the tension release a bit from your body.

The football player turned her head to your child, sounding earnest:” Maya, I have an important question for you, what would you think if I officially became your mum too?”

“Would you?”, Maya responded big eyed while she made her way to Caroline.

“I’d love to.”, your girlfriend replied seriously, feeling her eyes getting slightly wet by how moved the little girl and she herself was.

Your daughter went on to hug her:” Me too, mum.”

Overjoyed Caroline looked up to you, gesturing with her hands that you should join them:” Come here. I love you, my girls.”

“Are we still the three musketeers?”, Maya asked anxiously.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, the football player reassured her:” Of course, we’re.”

“All for one.”, you and your girlfriend began beaming.

“And one for all.”, the little girl cheered, knowing deep inside that she could count on her two mums in whatever the future would hold for you three as a family.

[julietsbody]

thirsty — coriolanus + reader : the capitol’s star player, golden boy, coriolanus snow had an odd obsession with the water girl, and what other liquids she could provide for him. 

tags : MDNI! 18+!! soccer ! tbosas au, bimbo ! reader,  squirtingggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!, fingering, pussy play, nicknames (dollface, various barbies, princess), filthy filthy stuff fr, might be a SLIGHTTTT piss kink fic, princess / special treatment, overstimulation, public sex (semi but still), voyeurism 

a / n : AND BOY I I FANTASIZE ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME IF U WERE MINE ID GIVE THIS PUSSY TO U 9-5 5-9 

the heat in panem was enough to dehydrate someone who drinks water daily in seconds, coriolanus waves a clipboard he had taken from casca in front of his face, trying to earn some cool air from it. to nobody’s surprise, the water girl had come bouncing in with your pink kitten heels, short white skirt, and pink tank top that your tits were practically spilling out of. 

your hair was pulled back into some slick back ponytail, with of course, a ribbon tied around the base of the ponytail. you always looked so perfect, makeup barely budging against the strong heat as you came waltzing in. 

you were a fan favorite of the team’s, so sejanus and festus’ heads immediately snap from the soccer ball they they were dribbling to you now. sejanus’ eyes light up immediately, waving to you, “hey!” 

you offer him a barbie - like smile, waving back with your freshly manicured nails, “hihi, sejanus! it’s sooooooo hot.” 

sejanus smiles sweetly as he approaches you, “made sure the water was cold today?” 

he’s teasing you of a time the heat was this bad and you forgot to add ice to the bucket holding the waters. you cried that day, many times. coriolanus found you having a sobbing fit in the hallway, repeating to yourself that you were so stupid. coriolanus was never good with affection, but he gave you a small hug that day, and assured you it didn’t matter at all. 

and when festus called you a dumb bitch for it? 

coriolanus made it his priority to fuck festus up on that field that day, and good lord, he did. 

festus was ushered off with a broken wrist because of a move coriolanus made, and coriolanus was taken off with a red card and a proud smirk on his face. now festus and coriolanus are never allowed on the same field, no matter what. which was good, because festus was a mediocre player, whilst coriolanus has a record for most man of the match’s won. 

you pout at him, “not funny, sej.” 

he chuckles, eyes softening at you as he tips his head in your vision, “‘m jus’ messing with you, sweet girl, water is water regardless of temperature, yeah?” 

sejanus and coriolanus were both always reassuring you, always so sweet with you despite their cold exteriors, despite the fact that they’re the most sought after players, they never let that ego get to them. 

well… sejanus didn’t. 

coriolanus did sometimes. speak of the devil, snow moves to bump into sejanus’ shoulder, offering him a toothy grin with his sharp canines. sejanus glares at him, like he was interrupting something special, “how are you in such a good mood when you were just whining over the heat?” 

coriolanus ignores sejanus’ obvious attempts to embarrass him to impress you, his blue eyes locking onto you with a whistle, “hey, malibu barbie.” 

you playfully roll your eyes at him, “you can’t just call me a different barbie every time you see me.” 

“yeah?” his jaw ticks, eyeing you up and down, god, he loved the way your short skirt rides up your thighs, the way your tits bounce through that practically see - through tank top, “why not?” 

“i don’t like it,” you pout at him. 

sejanus nods along, “yeah, snow, she doesn’t like it.” 

coriolanus sighs at him, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re such a cuck, dude.” 

he smirks at your ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) expression due to his words, truly not understanding what he means by calling sejanus a cuck— was he stopping him from something? 

you blink dumbly at them, and coriolanus only shrugs, turning to stride past a silent festus. 

sejanus scoffs, “can’t believe he gets away with shit like that.” 

you frown at him, “he’s probably having a rough day— or like… ‘m not sure, you know how he is, sej.” 

“yeah, yeah,” sejanus watches as his cleats sink into the grass, “pretty sure he has a huge crush on you, too.” 

ㅤ˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

PANEM 6-2 DISTRICT 2 

as soon as the match was over, coriolanus came up to you, sweat causing his platinum hair to stick to his forehead as he takes a cold water bottle from your hands, fingers brushing against yours. 

he takes a sip from it before leaning in to tower over you, “you saw that bicycle kick?” 

you nod at him excitedly, “i did! you’re soo good, coriolanus.” 

he rolls his tongue along his teeth, “yeah? you think so?” 

you smile sweetly at him with more nods as he walks past to the locker - room, sejanus moving to wrap his arm around coriolanus’ shoulders, to be honest, sejanus should be thanked for coriolanus’ bicycle kick because he’s the reason the ball was even at a level for coriolanus to kick it— but will coriolanus ever admit that? 

of course not! 

in fact, coriolanus doesn’t even think of all his achievements this match even when everyone is patting him on the back, dumping their water bottles on him and leaving him even more drenched than he was before. but with all this water, he just can’t stop thinking of you. 

that expression on your face earlier, plump lips parted in shock, he wonders how well they would wrap around his cock— 

@csnow18 : hey you busy

@csnow18 : ? 

you pluck out your phone as soon as it buzzes, only to see a message from coriolanus, on instagram. he had your number.. why didn’t he… honestly, you knew better than to question him at this point. 

@princess101 : no.. why? 

@csnow18 : im really thirsty 

@princess101 : just gave u water ‎‎໒꒰ྀི -᷅ ⤙ -᷄ ꒱ྀིა 

@csnow18 : festus took it from me 

a lie. 

@csnow18 : come to the locker room? 

@princess101 : rolling my eyes at u rn

@princess101 : u owe me 

@princess101 : and stop letting festus take stuff from u!!!!!!!! 

this wasn’t the first time he has lied about festus taking his water bottle just to see you, but it was the first he had different intentions for when he saw you. 

he already knows you’re coming before you’re even there, mostly because he can hear the click! clack! of your heels, but also because of the whistles of the people passing by you. coriolanus hated how people immediately turned to drooling animals when they saw you, it wasn’t of jealousy but rather possessiveness, because can he really blame them? 

his eyes light up when he sees you, pushing his soaked hair back, “tropical splash barbie.” 

you pout at him, putting your hands on your hips, “how do you even know so many barbies?” 

he shrugs simply, “because i see one every day.” 

you sigh, moving to push a water bottle to his chest, “happy?” 

“hey,” he leans in closer, fingers wrapping around the bottle, “why’re you actin’ like that?” 

“‘m not acting like anything,” you lie, “just don’t get thirsty again.” 

as soon as you spin on your heel to walk away, he clicks his tongue disappointedly, “you know… i don’t know if this water is g’na keep me hydrated enough.” 

you blink at the floor, what? what… “what?”

you turn back around to meet his eyes, watching his pupils immediately dilate at the way your skirt barely shows your panties whenever you twirl around, “do you just serve water, princess?” 

you stare at him dumbly, “i don’t get it—“ 

“you don’t?” he takes a step closer, “i see the way you look at me, doll, always watching when i make a goal, cheering me on, purposefully bouncing up and down so your panties show and your tits nearly pop out that shirt.” 

it was true. all so fucking true. the entire team was so, so attractive, especially coriolanus— you don’t ever wear things for men, but the men of panem’s soccer team? your own dress - code is practically the tightest, most slutty clothes ever! 

“i…” you pause, lips shimmering from your lip - gloss, “i do have other juices.” 

his tongue rolls along the inside of his teeth, tights curling upwards ever so slightly, “think i might need those, dollface.” 

you nod at him, “but— not here.” 

he hums, moving to drop the water bottle onto the ground as he leans in closer and closer until his lips are buzzing against your cheek, “yes, here.” 

you can’t help but melt into his touch as he peppers kisses along your face, pecking against your lips until his kisses drop down to run along your neck. your nails rake up his arms ever so gently, “people will catch us..” 

“mm - mm,” he disagrees, “all showerin’, jus’ let me get hydrated, yeah?” 

 he’s quick to move to his knees, smiling whenever he catches a glimpse of you looking around to see if anyone’s coming as his fingers trace along your thighs, lips following along after them. you’re so paranoid, god, for such a dumb slut, you really didn’t want to get caught. 

he hikes your skirt up to catch a glimpse of your panties, pastel red, to match the team’s colors and oh— oh what’s this? on the right side near your hip, it’s his player number, 18, with a heart surrounding it. he gawks up at you, chuckling at the reason for you always wanting to show off your panties, you had already marked him on them. 

you shyly hide your face, trying to ignore him until his finger presses against the wet spot of your panties left by your cunt. you shiver under his touch, “been wet for me all day, hm?” 

you nod at him, fingers moving to faintly cover your mouth, “always wanted you, corio..” 

he presses a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, before hooking a finger on your delicate panties and tugging them down, “you wrote my number on all your panties?” 

you continue nodding, shivering when his fingers lightly graze along your cunt, “mhm.. sej— sej.. is on some, too.” 

“that so? maybe i should get him out here to fuck you, too,” he presses his thumb against your clit, watching your hips buck ever so slightly, lashes fluttering. 

you shake your head, “n-no.. not now— want.. just you.” 

he moves to push your legs apart with his free hand, moving his hand on your clit out of the way so he can finally dive in. his tongue is quick to lick a stripe up your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit and taking it in his mouth to suck on with ease. 

your fingers move to his head, nails threading through his wet hair as you bite on the fingers of your free hand, trying so hard to not make any noise but gosh, the feeling of his mouth on you was just too much. 

his hand runs up your thigh, holding you stable as his mouth completely devours your cunt, not offering you any remorse as your hips jerk against nothing, teeth sinking past layers of your skin to muffle your whines. 

it’s not long before his hand is sliding from your thigh to your cunt as his lips move back up to your clit, ever so slowly sliding two of his fingers inside of your soaked entrance. you took his fingers so well, velvet walls pulsing around flesh and bone, tightening around him like he was a lifeline. 

your grip on his hair immediately becomes lethal, babbling nonsense against your finger, “corio— co..corio… ‘ts too much— ‘m gonna..” 

that was coriolanus’ cue, his fingers immediately curl into you and he starts moving them back and forth so his fingers are repeatedly penetrating that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll back. you tug at his hair as the sounds of his fingers moving inside of you become wet squelching, a familiar feeling washing over you but with a tinge of something different. 

it felt like an orgasm but no— no, it was wetter than an orgasm, because now his hand was completely drenched in your wetness, his lips moved to a part so it could spray into his mouth. it was so, so filthy, the way he gulped it down, and made you squirt again, and again, and again. 

you were like a fountain of nectar that he just couldn’t get enough of. 

you were so fucked out that you didn’t realize you were cuming again until your body is wracked with another orgasm, gushing all over his fingers and into his mouth once more. you whimper above him, silently begging for mercy as he continues to pump his fingers into your overstimulated pussy, “corio— please.. too much— can’t..” 

he licks the remaining juices from his lips as he finally pulls his fingers out, lapping up the cum and other substances dripping off of his skin. he takes a grip of your hips to stabilize you as he stands, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “thank you, dollface, such a good water girl.” 

your lips part to speak but you’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat. 

your eyes immediately snap to the side, only to find.. 

“sejanus?”  

[mochinomnoms]

Shrimpy Chronicles: The Drop-Off

Background Octopolycule x Reader (Main: Dad!Jade and OC!Daughter)

Synopsis

“Open water! I wanna see the water open at the drop-off!” Oh yes, she knows all about how Dada raved about the drop-off. Pearl knew it all too well, more than she wanted, actually. Dada, with his droopy eyes and raspy giggle, talked about how the open ocean is where all the big scaries come from. Where leviathans sleep, and the kraken lays in wait for the next unsuspecting meal. And that’s if the human fish-ear-men don’t get you first! “They throw in iron hooks, puttin’ tasty morels from the surface to bribe ya. And then, when you bite, take even a nibble, the hook digs into your cheek! And out through your skin! They drag ya up ‘n out of the water, and then they skin and scalp ya to eat!” No, she didn’t have nightmares for weeks after! Pearl was just having a hard time sleeping!

Collection Masterlist: Shrimpy Chronicles

[wc} - 2,020

[cw/tags] - Reader is mentioned as 'Ama' but has they/them pronouns, in daughter's p.o.v., heavily implied poly!octotrio x reader, main focus is Jade with daughter.

[notes] - I wanted to write a cute domestic scenario with the other twin since I did Coral in the last story lol. Thinking aboujt Jade's dream in Book 7, even though it's not accurate I think it does show that he does like having his friend and brother around. I think he'd want his kids to feel the same about their own siblings and friends.

also prime sibling behavior at the end uwu

If Pearl had to decide on going to school or hiding in the coral in her bedroom, she’d rather hide. 

No, she’s not a baby! She’s not scared of her first day of school! She just doesn’t want to go, she thinks it’s booooooring!

That’s what she’s telling Coral anyways, who rolled her eyes when Pearl asked if she wanted to skip the day before. 

“I don’t wanna! Dada said they take you to the drop off and look at how deep the-the—um…”

Coral had scrunched her nose and lips, frustration clear on her little face.

“I forgot what it was called.”

“I think Dada said it was open?”

“Open water! I wanna see the water open at the drop-off!”

Oh yes, she knows all about how Dada raved about the drop-off. Pearl knew it all too well, more than she wanted, actually. 

Dada, with his droopy eyes and raspy giggle, talked about how the open ocean is where all the big scaries come from. Where leviathans sleep, and the kraken lays in wait for the next unsuspecting meal. 

And that’s if the human fish-ear-men don’t get you first!

“They throw in iron hooks, puttin’ tasty morels from the surface to bribe ya. And then, when you bite, take even a nibble, the hook digs into your cheek! And out through your skin! They drag ya up ‘n out of the water, and then they skin and scalp ya to eat!”

No, she didn’t have nightmares for weeks after! Pearl was just having a hard time sleeping!

Either way, Pearl just didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of her home. Her Baba was gone for the morning already to check on his restaurant on the surface, while her Ama and Nana Narissa left a bit ago to talk with people in the town.

Ama and Nana had given her and her sister lots of kisses and made them breakfast to wish them good luck. Ama looked ready to cry as Nana put a barrette made of sturgeon scales into Coral’s hair, clipping her two dark strands of hair back and out of her face.

 Ama was fully bawling as Nana did the same thing for Pearl, though her hair was long and thin enough to be fully clipped into a low ponytail.

“They match like their fathers! Waaaah! They’re so cute!” 

Ama had been babbling, squeezing Coral and Pearl to her chest like a kid with a toy. Dada always squeezed tightly, but Ama could give him a run for his money right then.

Nana had to drag Ama away and called for her Dada and Papa to finish getting her and Coral ready. Dada was giggling at Ama as they swam out the front door, while Papa was looking at her and Coral. 

“My, my. Look, Floyd, the little ones are matching us.” Papa reached down to tap at the barrettes in her and her twin’s hair. “How did Mother get these scales, I wonder?”

“Mama’s real cutthroat, probably told some of them that she’d serve them up to humans if they didn’t give her some.” Dada had taken to picking up Coral by the tail and swinging her upside down in his arms. 

“What? No, Nana is nice!” Coral was giggling, twisting and turning to get out of Dada’s grasp. 

“Nice to you, Nana loves her baby grand shrimp!” Pearl watched as Coral managed to wiggle mostly out of Dada’s grasp, reaching up to pull at his dark gray strand of hair 

As her sister pulled harder at his hair, and Papa swam over to pull Coral away from his face, Pearl took the opportunity to quietly slip out and back into her bedroom. She could still make out the sounds of laughter and a screech from Dada as she heard a chomping sound. 

Pearl giggled to herself, swimming into her bedroom to find a hiding spot. Somewhere new, though, where Dada or Papa couldn’t find her. 

Hmm, in the bookshelf? No, that wouldn’t work. Under the pillows? No, they’d see her underneath it. Oh, wait! Baba left his old octopot in their room! Said something about using it for a hatchling, but she didn’t know what that was!

She’s not a hatchling, so maybe they’d never suspect she’d be there. Perfect!

Pearl hummed to herself, going into the toy corner, where she saw the black, metal cauldron among the many toys she and her sister had been gifted with over the years. 

She didn’t exactly match the color of the pot, but Pearl supposes she can cover the entrance with a stuffed toy.

“Hmm, oh! This one!” Pearl grabbed a blue and yellow reef fish, just big enough to cover the entrance, and curled into the pot as tightly as she could. 

Pearl closed her eyes and relaxed, being soothed by the cool iron of the pot and the darkness surrounding her. Even the stripes on her tail were starting to glow in the rhythm of her heartbeat. 

Biting at the tips of her claws, she waited for the sounds of her fathers and sister to finally disappear. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice she snuck off and—

“Oya? Now what little creature is hiding here?”

The sudden light in her eyes made Pearl hiss and curl further into herself, burying her face into her tail and arms. She felt Papa’s hands carefully reach in and pull her out, though she growled and swiped at them. Even when she bit into one of his fingers, Papa still carefully cradled her and brought her back into the open. 

He looked amused as she gnawed on his finger, twisting her little tail around his arm as she let out another growl, trying to imitate a roll she’d seen him do to a barracuda once. A death roll, she thinks it was called?

“I see, it’s my little elver! Now, what is my elver doing hiding from her Papa, hmm?” Papa cooed at her, rubbing his thumb against her cheek affectionately. 

Pearl let out a pleased purr, finally letting go of his fingers and nuzzling into his touch. She just about melted into his arms as he brought her to his chest, humming as she curled in like she used to when she first hatched. 

“Now, Pearl, what’s going on?” Papa sunk to the floor, curling his tail around him as he spoke. “Aren’t you excited about your first day? Your sister certainly is.”

“Umm, yeah! I just—I just feel—um—sick!” Pearl let out a ‘cough’, sticking her tongue out for dramatic effect.

“Ehgeh…I’m too sick to go to school.”

Papa’s chest shook, sounding like he did when he was trying not to laugh at Baba Zuzu when she tried to eat one of his arms. 

“Oh, is that—pfft—so?”

“Yeah! Too sick. Too tiiiired! I stay home!”

Pearl went limp in Papa’s arms, feeling rather satisfied in herself. She managed to trick him! No school for her means no drop-off either! Now she could stay home all day and—

“Oh noooo, you can’t stay home, Pearl, we need to take you to the doctor!”

Huh?

“Oh, um, no thank you—”

“Yes, yes. You must go to the doctor, that cough sounds awfully terrible. You’re going to need, hmm, throat surgery.”

Pearl started squirming out of Papa’s grasp, finding it rather hard to do when he decided to squeeze her against his chest. 

“No Papa Jade, I don’t wanna go to the doctor—”

“Hmm, then you’ll need medicine, the one that tastes like sour algae.” 

Pearl panicked, pushing against his face, which was slowly morphing into a grin.

“Actually Papa, I think I’m okay, I’m not sick—”

Papa’s second jaws clacked as he softly pressed his teeth on her, brushing against her cheek, then neck, then tummy, tickling her. 

“Aha! You lied to Papa, now he’s going to eat you!”

“EEEEE!” Pearl shrieked, thrashing in his hold as she cackled. “NOOO—snrk—STOOOP! PAPAAAA! AAAAAAH—snort—THAT TICKLES!!”

Papa let out a gentle laugh as he finally let Pearl breathe, using his free arm to lean against the ground. She was small enough though for her to still be cradled in his other arm. 

“Now, Pearl, do you want to tell me the actual reason you don’t want to go to school? It’s your first day after all.”

Tucking herself into his arms and shutting her eyes closed, Pearl mumbled into her Papa’s chest.

“...I’m scared of the monsters…”

She felt herself moving again, peeking from her eyelashes to look at Papa’s frowning face. 

“Monsters my sweet?”

Peal nodded, tapping her claws together nervously. 

“Yeah, and the fish-ear-mans. The ones that Dada Floyd said would-would—um—scape you to eat?”

“Scalp, my sweet.” Papa looked mad, but still gave her a soft smile. “He means scalp.”

Sighing and swimming up and towards the door, Papa held Pearl’s hand to help her follow. 

“And he’s being a bit dramatic, they don’t eat little mermaids like you. Even if they wanted to, I wouldn’t let them.”

The living room was empty, Dada and Coral probably left already to the pickup spot for school. It wasn’t very far from their grotto, and it looked like a lot of other families were on the way as well. 

“...But, Papa? What about the monsters?”

Papa looked down at her, his eyes softening as he rubbed a thumb over her hand. 

“Well, the sea has many monsters, but they all live far, far away from the reef. Much farther in the deep sea, that’s why you go to school, to learn how to protect yourself from the monsters.”

Pearl pouted, she didn’t know what learning her numbers had to do with monsters. 

“But, if I stay home…the monsters will never find me! Problem solved!”

She smiled to herself, shimmying her shoulders like she was dancing. 

“They can’t find me at home! You can protect me!”

Papa let out a chuckle, tugging her along as they saw Dada and Coral waiting at the pickup for the teacher. She thinks his name was Mr. Raymond.

“Well, that is certainly true, but—” Tugging her up into his arms again, Papa pressed his forehead against hers and murmured. “—who will protect Coral? She’ll be all alone without you.”

Pearl frowned at that, looking at her sister, who was currently clenching tight onto Dada’s arm and digging her teeth into his shoulder. 

“...I think Dada Floyd needs more protecting than Coral.”

A laugh left Papa’s mouth as he watched the small shrimpmer somehow launch herself at Dada’s face, making him fall backwards into the ground.

“Perhaps you’re right, but she’d still like the company. I know I did with your other parents.” 

She smiled at that, Coral did always like bringing her around when they got into trouble. Baba and Ama told her that Dada and Papa got into it a lot too. They seemed to grow up fine. 

“...Okay Papa, I trust you!”

Pearl wriggled out of his grasp, darting over to Coral and practically tackled her off of Dada and into the soft sand. Both of them giggled as they played a game of tag, waiting for their teacher to pick them up. 

As the two were preoccupied, Jade swam up to Floyd, who was up and stretching his arms over his head. 

“Heya Jade, was wondering how long it’d take ya to find Pearl—yow!”

Floyd hissed as Jade pulled on his earfin, on the verge of digging his claws into the thin skin. A small, polite smile on his face, Jade leaned in to quietly hiss. 

“When our mates get back home from their work and chores, we are going to have a good and clear conversation about how to talk to our children, if just to keep myself from mangling you to shreds.”

Finally let go of, Floyd held a hand to his now tender fin, glaring at his brother and growling. 

“Tch, what’s stoppin’ ya now?”

Jade pouted and wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye, even sniffling for dramatic effect. 

“Our mates—unfortunately—adore you too much, I fear Azul and (Name) would be devastated…”

“Fuckin’ asshole.”

“Yes you are, but what am I?”

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[aloesarchives]

JJK Drabble #2

Tw/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Fluff, Fluff Brainrot, Domesticity, Family Man Toji, Usage of Wife and Mom, JJK Oc added

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Reader: Female, Usage of Wife and Mom

AU: Modern/"Toji Lives" Au

(A/N): I'm back! Well, kinda of. Long story short, dealt w/college stuff and had a health scare that kept me away from writing. Also had a mini burnout too. More is explained here!

Thinking about Toji taking up crocheting and knitting because he saw how expensive yet cheaply made certain items like blankets are made. So he buys a simple set to try it out, following Youtube tutorials and watching videos for ideas. Once he masters the basics, Toji is LOCKED IN once again. Making full on hand-made blankets, scarves, hats, mittens/gloves, stuffed animals, covers/cases, bags, scrunchies, even damn rugs. Anything you ask him for, he’ll make it. This ends up being very practical to Toji because he saves so much money by just making them at home himself. It has to be the premium, natural, good quality type. Organic cotton, wool, cashmere, alpaca/llamas, silk, linen, mohair, bamboo, hemp, all of that. Tell him about polyester or something and he tells you to put that shit back. He buys the premium yarn nearby, locally, or gets them imported internationally. Gets every and any colors because he never wants to be limited when making his projects.

There was a throw blanket you wanted for the couch but it was expensive and the size was a lot smaller than you hoped. The next day, you come home to see Toji making it for you. The same color but better quality and inexpensive, and it was the size you wanted too. You were happy and amazed that he made it within a day. Living off your praise and approval, Toji just makes everything. Since he can’t get carpal tunnel or arthritis, his hands and wrists never get tired from working. Though, his posture does get bad and his back aches from being hunched over. The blanket in your bedroom with Toji? He made that shit with fucking love and care. He actually made multiple ones depending on the weather and season. 

Man has even made throw pillows, regular pillows, water bottle cases, table cloths, coasters, bags, cushions, and made your own curtains. I mentioned before that everything in your home was either made, customized, or renovated by Toji. This stays TRUE because almost all the pillows and blankets in the house are his creation. The blankets and pillows that cover Megumi and Tsumiki’s beds? All Toji. Both pillows and blankets match each other and are in respective colors for the two. Megumi has one at his dorm because it gets cold over there and he hates sleeping in the cold. 

If you are a stuffed animal fiend, like me, you ask Toji to make you any stuffed animal you want. Definitely make squishmallow dupes for you if you asked him. In your personal room/office, there’s a pile of stuffed animals in the corner from Toji that you pluck one from the pile and hold it while relaxing or walking around the house. The ones he loves to make are bees, dragons, whales, dolphins and dogs. And they’re so soft and huggable, you squeeze them all the time. Toji just grins to himself knowing the things he makes brings you and the kids happiness.

Toji “Anything my wife wants, my wife gets. No questions asked” Fushiguro

It’s normal for you to come home to see Toji crocheting/knitting away at something. You either find him in three places at home: the engawa in front of the courtyard and garden, the family room with the shoji doors open, or in his personal room/office. Mostly, he sits outside sitting on the engawa working away at something. It makes him work better, or so he says. Makes his own needles and hooks because of his big hands. Megumi still has his crocheted stuffed puppy when he was younger, still going strong even though it’s been worn down from love. Tsumiki has all the Sanrio characters knitted/crocheted as gifts from Toji.

Tsumiki always wears her hair up in a ponytail, Toji makes her scrunchies in her favorite designs and colors. Her favorite cardigans and pullover sweaters that keep her warm during fall and winter were made by Toji because he wanted to try making outerwear. Luckily it worked in his favor. Tsumiki asked Toji if he could make her a tote bag because she needed a bag for outings. She comes home from school one day to see three of them in different sizes. She has those cute little flower keychains on her school bag and outing bags too because she asked Papa Toji for them. The massive white and blue circle rug in her room is from Toji.

Megumi’s winter scarf, earmuffs, and hat are made by Toji too. Megumi will never admit it out loud but he appreciates that Toji made it for him. They keep him and he doesn’t feel the wind chills nipping at his face. Megumi also appreciates his dad for making his stuffed animals. I’m projecting here but Toji made a set of plush stuffed animals after his shadows. His divine dogs, all of them. Megumi keeps them on his stuffed animal net in the top corner above his bed. Megumi wears a jacket and hoodie made by Toji all year round because of how versatile they are. In general, they’re Megumi’s favorite clothes to wear too.

Thinking about asking Toji to make a present for Nobara and Yuuji on their birthdays. You asked Nobara what her favorite color and style was while Yuuji said he wanted a new hoodie. Toji makes them pretty fast and the two are in love with their gifts. Nobara is wearing her bag EVERYWHERE, and I mean, EVERYWHERE she goes. Yuuji, like Megumi, ends up loving his hoodie that you always see him wear when he’s in casual clothes. Since Nanako and Mimiko grew up with Megumi and Tsumiki, one of Nanako’s cardigans and a pair of her socks are made by Toji while Mimiko only has a random plushie Toji made for her when she was younger because Suguru had to clean the other one.

Not me thinking about how Tsumiki, Megumi, and Mayumi(JJK OC) baby blankets are handmade by Toji himself with their own individual design and patterns. Megumi and Tsumiki’s are still in good condition even though they were lovingly used by the two throughout their whole life. Their baby hats, socks, and certain outfits were all made by him. He keeps them all in individual boxes to not lose them. Gets sentimental and nostalgic that you catch him staring as he holds the small clothes in his big hands. Reminiscing about Megumi and Tsumiki being babies and small children, now realizing that they are growing up before his eyes.

God, all of it is thoroughly well knitted and crocheted that people thought you bought it from a store. “No, actually my husband made it for me. Isn’t he skillful and amazing?” Your friends and co-workers lowkey ask you if Toji is willing to take commissions for them. They’ll pay for it obviously but they want good quality home-made items Toji makes which gives you an idea. You asked Toji if he considered making orders for other people besides his family. He did think about it but he said he would get overwhelmed when receiving orders and packing them up. You asked him if dealing with the orders and packaging them would help him change his mind. So you unintentionally set up a small business with Toji. His shop consists of blankets, bags and baskets of any kind, pot holders, rugs, coverings, and pillows. It runs where one week is for receiving orders, one month is for making them, and another month to send them out. Making a spreadsheet/list for Toji to show what he needs to make. Probably gets finished with all the orders in two weeks or something.

For some reason, Toji wears eye-glasses when he knits and crochets. You don’t know why but it makes him more handsome that your brain rots/short circuits every time you see him working away. He got you all flustered and down bad it’s insane(but absolutely valid). But you don’t understand why he would need them since he already has better vision and eye-sight than 99% of the population.

“Honey, since when do you need glasses?”

“I need it so I don’t strain my eyes when working on them?”

“Can you, like, squint? You already have 20/10 vision. You don’t need glasses when you have superhuman vision, Baby.”

“Doll, just because I have good eye-sight doesn’t mean my eyes aren’t as sensitive. My eyes are still bugged by light, shit hurts and gives me headaches. Anyway, can you pass me the blue yarn in front of ya?”

Megumi and Tsumiki always see you with their Toji. You’re chilling and minding your own business with their baby sister napping away while Toji is working away at a rug because he is bored. Even though he’s been doing this since they were young, the two still can’t get over how their dad can make a king-sized blanket(start to finish) in four hours. Or when they come home from school and see Toji finishing up on a big and long green dragon, turning to Megumi and Tsumiki asking them, “Do you two think your mom would like this?” Or they could be chilling then Toji asks them to try on the projects he finished to see how they look. Tsumiki and Megumi are his main critics, you are too but you aren’t bothered by certain details to criticize Toji’s projects so he leaves it to the kids.

Mayumi(JJK OC) is chilling by Toji as he’s working away, either sleeping away or playing with her stuffed animals close within sight. Being the three year old she is, she sometimes hides underneath the unfinished blankets and pops up from under to surprise Toji. Papa Toji gives his iconic DILF chuckle that has you  GEEKING and GIGGLING like a damn school girl when you get the chance to hear it every time. He just pats her head, calling her a little rascal or princess, then resumes.

I’m projecting once again but you know those cute crochet dolls? Like the ones with the big black eyes, big head, small body, and no mouth? Toji made those of the entire family. There’s one of himself in his iconic black compression shirt, white sweatpants, and kung fu slippers. He added a little scar too where his mouth would be. Then there is your’s, all pretty and pristine with your iconic outfit. Toji getting your colors and features down to the bone. Next is Megumi and Tsumiki, literal carbon copies of their real versions. Toji said Megumi’s hair was the hardest part to make lol. Then Mayumi’s doll is later added once she’s born. The mini Fushiguro Doll set sits on the top shelf of a pristine black display case, next to the tv, in the family room. 

He’s the type of guy you wouldn’t expect to be good at a skill like this then later found out he’s an absolute master and god among men. Toji doesn’t parade around craftsmanship because he knows how some guys have fragile egos. But he won’t shy away when people ask him about his work. Pulls out his phone to show people the things he made with two needles, one crochet hook, and a shit load of yarn.

Satoru, being the shitter he is, tries to tease and bully Toji about it. To which you reprimand and scold him for it. But Toji doesn’t care about dealing with his antics because it’s a practical skill and keeps him out of trouble. Then you remind Satoru that his winter scarf he always wears was made, the one you gifted him for his 18th birthday, was made by Toji at your request. Satoru never wore any scarf because he thought you made it for him. But for you to tell him Toji actually made it for him, Satoru shuts himself up and doesn’t shit on Toji anymore.

Toji loves it when his family uses/wears the things that he made. Usually wears a goofy smile or grin on his face to conceal his prideful yet satisfied self, knowing his creations are appreciated and loved by his family.

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