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Sometimes Sol’s so casual that it’s borderline embarrassing, because Ji-wan spent an hour on her hair and makeup getting everything just right, when her girlfriend may as well have just rolled out of bed. And sometimes Sol looks like a total badass without even trying, and that’s embarrassing for other reasons. She’s not doing anything special—her hair’s up in a messy bun and her old band tee’s all wrinkled. Her dark-wash jean jacket’s torn up with little spike accents like something a scary biker might wear. Her black jeans are torn up too and stuffed into knee-high boots that are probably comfortable but also give serious ass-kicking energy. It’s completely unintentional, but if Ji-wan squints, then Sol sort of looks like the kind of hooligan you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley. If you’re a good girl. Ji-wan’s a naughty girl for the right person and definitely wants to run into this bad one. She keeps stealing little sideways looks and then pretends she’s looking past Sol at passing stores, when really, she’s admiring her girlfriend. And noting the jealous looks on other passing girls. And boys. Then she loops her arm through Sol’s to make it clear that this badass is taken.
Sol glances down at the touch and does a poor job of hiding a smile. Her cheek indents like she’s biting the inside of it, and she gestures at a nearby accessory shop, trying, “How about that one?”
New hair clips are on Ji-wan’s long list of things to buy. Shopping trips are usually more for her than Sol. Except when she’s buying things for Sol. She often likes to play dress up, to drag Sol into the changing rooms and see how good she looks in tight suits or mini-dresses or even lingerie, and Sol will grumble or laugh but ultimately let Ji-wan do anything to her. Sol will rarely buy Ji-wan’s picks. But it’s fun anyway, because everything’s fun with Sol. Ji-wan nods and chirps, “Sure.”
It’s a small boutique, with long aisles of pretty things just tall enough to hide the cashier from view. Ji-wan finds the one for hair accessories and drags Sol down it, eyeing up the bows—she’s pretty sure Sol likes her in bows. Sol plays with her hair more when she’s wearing them. But Sol plays with her hair a lot. Combs it back a lot. Wraps nimble fingers through it and tugs. To be fair, Sol likes to run those eager fingers all over most of Ji-wan’s body; hair is just more acceptable to finger in public than certain other places.
There’s a fancy display of headbands clearly marketed for teens, or preteens—sparkly ones with unicorn horns and other childish fantasies. Ji-wan uses her free hand to feel the fuzzy material on some of the animal ears while Sol snorts. Ji-wan’s instantly pouting at her, asking, “What?”
“Nothing.” Sol’s quick to stuff her hands into her pockets—Ji-wan’s arm still intertwined with one of hers—and brush it off.
“You scoffed at me.”
“Sorry.”
Ji-wan pouts harder, glaring up through her false lashes until Sol shrugs and admits, “Okay, so I think those are kind of... tacky? I was thinking you were going to get something more sophisticated, like...” She trails off, probably unable to think of what accessory she though Ji-wan would by. Ji-wan’s never tacky. But her style’s not that ‘sophisticated’ either—she likes cute things, like the frilly shirt and ruffled pink skirt she’s wearing—which Sol complimented her on before they left. Ji-wan had posed, giggling, “Adorable, right?” And Sol answered, “You look beautiful.”
Then Ji-wan blushed, looking away, and she still hasn’t said what she thought in that moment: “You look hot.” She hasn’t exactly been having ‘sophisticated’ thoughts. She’s actually been wondering if they might be able to do scandalous things in the mall’s washrooms, or if that’s absolutely insane and she should buy herself ice cream to cool down. She isn’t looking at the animal headbands because they’re cute.
She’s looking at them because she’s been thinking that Sol looks cool, all in charge, vaguely dominating—like a master or something. Ji-wan doesn’t want to be a servant or anything like that. Although a maid might be cute. If they could find the right outfit. She’d be too embarrassed to shop for it.
She could put on the cat ears and be Sol’s kitten—kneel at Sol’s feet and do all the dirty things they’re both too ashamed to mention. Ji-wan’s seen it a few times on the internet—pet-related roleplay. She’s heard women are most like cats. Sol might make a decent dog. She’s friendly, loyal, strong. Ji-wan could be a cute puppy but would make a better kitten—pretty and proper and more prone to lying languidly across her master’s lap than going out for walks.
A collar and a leash would be super hot, but that’s something they’d have to covertly buy online. Or from a pet store. Ji-wan probably couldn’t make it through that trip. Maybe she could send Sol to do it. She tentatively lifts a brown cat-ear headband off the hanger and slips it on. It’s a little tight, the fabric-covered plastic clipped against her braids. Then she bites into her bottom lip and glances at her girlfriend for approval. Sol doesn’t look convinced.
So Ji-wan pouts. “It’s not tacky.”
Sol agrees, “Okay,” obviously without meaning it.
“It’s not! It’s cute. It could be hot.”
Sol actually snorts, grinning as her brows lift. “Hot?”
Ji-wan glares, beet-red from her fantasy being mocked. “Mhm! It could be!”
“Sure... if you’re into animals, I guess...”
Face burning, Ji-wan shuffles that half-step closer, which tucks her tight at Sol’s side. Sol startles, but Ji-wan needs that closeness to whisper, to make sure the store clerk doesn’t hear the honey she puts into her tone. She wraps both arms around Sol’s, but curls one hand like a paw and bats it lightly against Sol’s chest. She drags it slowly down, pressing in, tracing the gentle slope of Sol’s breast as she murmurs, “I could be a really sexy kitty, right? If you saw me in a store, you’d totally wanna take me home, yeah? You’d want to put a collar around my throat that says ‘property of Yoon Sol?’”
Sol blinks, instantly dazed, and Ji-wan sucks in a breath, murmuring in a high-pitched, highly suggestive voice, “I’d be a really good kitty for you, Sol. I’d come crawling over to you, and rub against your thighs, and beg you to pet me...” Ducking her head into Sol’s shoulder, Ji-wan nuzzles into her neck, quietly moaning, “And if you pet me right, I’d purr, and lick your hand, and lick other places...” Sol even smells good, a rich cologne that makes Ji-wan slightly dizzy. She resists the urge to demonstrate, to lick the side of Sol’s jaw to prove how good she is with her tongue. She’s arching into Sol, pressing her chest against Sol’s arm, and it’s a good thing Sol’s bearing most of her weight, because Ji-wan’s knees feel weak. They’re pressed tight together, her thighs tense, because she’s thinking about rolling over onto her back, presenting her bare tummy, so Sol could pet down her stomach and slip between her legs—
She breathes, “Then, once in a while, when mating season rolls around, I might even go into heat... and then I’d turn around, bend over, lift my tail, and—”
The headband’s ripped offer her head—it happens so abruptly that Ji-wan’s speech cuts off in a squeak. Sol’s pulling away from her, holding the band, twisting out of her grasp and walking off down the aisle.
Ji-wan swiftly follows, wobbly on her feet, whining, “Soool, where are you going?”
Gesturing with the headband as she disappears around the corner, Sol flatly answers, “To buy this. Then we’re going home.”
Stunned, Ji-wan pauses. They don’t have any shopping bags yet—they haven’t crossed anything off her list.
But she chirps, “Okay,” and follows, still blushing as hot as Sol is.