#if you want to know whose and what their middle names are just ask

[effulgent-girl]

The Lannister-Tarths

Jaime & Brienne's children (from left to right)

Galen, Joelle*, Taymour*, Renay, Jalyn* and Selia*

* indicates twins

[awrkive]

Idk I must have some problems I need to talk about with my therapist, but I NEED the #3 lmao

summary: jungkook is usually a nice guy from the way he interacts with other people – but the only exception comes to you. and you can't figure out why.

w/c: 3.5k

note: aurkayyyy general consensus says write # 3 and that post got 40 likes idk so here it is ig.. unedited cos its 3am but also i tried my very best awrkive nation 😞💔 under the cut cos its long asf for a drabble crying

People always gravitate to you. You have this sort of unbreakable and contagious energy around you that just pulls people right into your orb – your classmates in middle school through college, your cousins, even the cashiers at the cafes you like visiting downtown every here and there. 

And it is why Jeon Jungkook from your Environmental Science class baffles you. Because while everybody in the lecture hall – even prof Nam – likes to give you a smile or even just a nod of acknowledgement when you walk in, he does the total opposite and will just do about anything to avoid you. 

It had been during the first week of the term when you realized this fact. When Jungkook seemed to have abhorred the idea of sitting next to you because somebody had “stolen” his seat. 

Of course he knew the fact that you technically could not “steal” a seat in college – there are no such things as assigned seats in college, after all – so you had kindly offered the empty chair beside you, then, but he just looked at you with his knitted brows, like he couldn’t believe you had asked him that in the first place. 

In the end, he chose the free seat at the back of the hall – even though as far as you know him, he’s the type to like sitting in the front rows to engage with the class better. 

However, that did not deter you from trying to befriend him. In fact, it just made you want to get closer to him more. 

You like Jeon Jungkook. Not romantically, of course! You just like the fact that he is extremely smart and listen, he seems nice. The girls always have something good to say about him, and he’s friends with one of your closest friends, Namjoon – whose judgment you trust most of all. He’s acquainted with most of the people you know and you’ve seen him interact with others – he’s charming and doesn’t exactly look broody and uninterested when he’s with them. 

So when Prof Nam partnered you both in a presentation for your final requirement for the term, you were over the moon to have been given the opportunity. 

“__,” Jungkook calls, but you’re way too busy admiring the strands of his hair that had now been dyed to gold – a contrast to his previously dark brown locks. It’s mostly hidden from the beanie he’s wearing. Something you’ve noticed he’s been wearing a lot these days even though it’s not that cold. 

You think it’s because he’s not too keen on getting attention for his newly dyed hair.

Jungkook calls your name one more time, and this time it snaps you out of your trance. 

“Hm?” You look up, blinking at him – only to be met with his knitted brows again. At that all too familiar look by now, you frown slightly, knowing the tell-tale signs of his annoyance. 

“I’ve been asking you about biofuels for the past two minutes.” 

“Oh!” Your eyes widen for a bit, quickly looking at your iPad. “Uhm… it’s here…” you slide your device over to his direction and he’s quick to read over your work. With him seated beside you, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and you don’t even think it’s cologne in the first place. It just seems like his natural smell – like fresh laundry. Downy or something. 

Ever since you started working on the project, you’ve been going to cafes and the library to work on it – for at least an hour – and you’re starting to get accustomed to everything Jeon Jungkook. He’s smart – and that’s a given – but he also smells really good; that’s what you noted specifically.

But most importantly, he’s dyed his mid-length hair blonde. And he looks different but somehow… really handsome. With his prescription glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, you just can’t help but to look. 

“Where is your citation for this?” He says, pointing to a certain part of your work. 

At that, you grow anxious. Jungkook’s really serious about his academics. And even though he looks distracting with his blonde hair right now, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. 

You’re not dumb or something! You’ve survived three years of college just fine – you’re just not the likes of him, or Namjoon, for that matter. But you do well for yourself. 

But Jungkook, reading over your work with furrowed brows, you can’t help but second-guess yourself.

Especially when the next thing you can say is just, “Oh, uhm… I thought citations would only be after every four sentences?” 

“Did you not read the instructions?” Jungkook says. It’s not harsh but there’s a certain lilt to it. A bit pointed that you visibly recoil. As if noticing you do that, Jungkook clears his throat and looks right back to your iPad. With a tone that considerably sounds gentler to you this time, he says, “You should put a citation every three sentences.” 

“Okay…” You say. You look at Jungkook and you give him a tight-lipped smile when he meets your gaze. “I’m sorry.” 

His gaze lasts longer than necessary – he almost always doesn’t really look at you but this time he does, and just when you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, he peels his eyes away from you and turns to his computer, not saying anything. 

You sulk in your seat, revising your paper while Jungkook acts like a stranger beside you again. 

“Kook…” you say after awhile. You watch as Jungkook visibly stills at the nickname. Nonetheless, he hums, but he doesn’t stray his eyes from his laptop. “I really like your hair.” 

Nothing. 

“Kookie…” This time, you poke at the material of his purple hoodie. “I said I like your hair.” 

He doesn’t budge. 

When you make a move to poke him again, he finally says, “I heard that.” 

You turn back to your google doc with a pout. 

You don’t know what you’re expecting from him. A thank you, maybe? But that would be unlikely for him to say to you. He’s just always so quiet around you. Annoyed, irritated—

“Thank you.” 

At first you don’t quite catch it, but you kind of got the gist. Unbelieving, you turn to him with a confused look. “What?” 

“Isaidthankyou.” 

But it was spoken so fast that you just grew more puzzled. 

“What…?” 

“Nevermind.” He says, hacking away on his laptop again. 

You pout the whole time writing your paper. 

———

You’re just about to approach Jungkook to talk about your recent development for your project when somebody beats you to it first. 

It’s Han Hyorin from the same class. You made friends with her from another minor you’ve had in the previous semester and she was a really nice woman – sort of similar to you. A big ball of sunshine, all smiles and cheerful and full of energy. It’s why you clicked instantly a few months ago. 

But that’s also why it surprises you when you see her talking animatedly with Jungkook and him listening to her attentively – smiling and laughing. 

Certainly not his vibe when you’re the one in conversation with him. 

Listen, you’ve been so accustomed to his behavior to you all this time that you just don’t mind it now. But for the record, you just thought that maybe – he just can’t quite level up to your energy. You’re too bubbly and he’s too… calm. And you get that! You certainly don’t hold it against him. 

But as he catches a glimpse of you his mood turns completely different, no longer smiling ear to ear. It makes Hyorin stop speaking, turning her body to look at your direction as well. 

“Oh, hi __!” She greets, grinning. “I was just talking to Jungkook here.” 

“Hi, Hyorin.” You wave at her, mirroring her smile. You walk towards them, hugging your iPad tight to your chest. “Hi, Jungkook.” 

He just sends you a timid smile. 

Weirdly enough, it makes your heart twinge. 

“Anyway, are you two gonna work on your project? Sorry for keeping him up, if that’s the case. I’ll be off then.” Hyorin says as she picks up her bag. She looks at Jungkook once again, saying, “I’ll send the link to you later, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook only nods before Hyorin walks out of the lecture hall.

You watch her disappearing back before you turn to Jungkook. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.” 

He shrugs. “We talk sometimes.” 

“Ah.” You nod. 

“Anyway, you got my text, right? Hoseok said it’s too crowded at 556 right now. And my laptop’s dead so I can’t use it either. Left my charger at my place,” he says, starting to put his stuff in his backpack. 

“Yeah, I got it,” you say, stepping out a bit to let him out of his row. You follow beside him when he begins to walk. “Well, where should we do the project?” 

You see Jungkook wince. “I have no choice but do you mind if I just suggest my place? I have a roommate but he’s not around this time. Or we can just call it off for today and resched.” 

You blink at him. “Your place?” 

He arches a brow. “Yeah. Is it okay? Do you have something else in mind?” 

Shaking your head, you look straight ahead. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s just a three minute walk from the campus. Do you mind?” 

“Nope.” 

“Alright, then.” 

——— 

Jungkook thinks you’re strange today. 

You’re usually so full of stories. Never ran out of things to say. His silence never deterred you from sharing something and even though Jungkook would deny it to you and to all his friends – he actually secretly enjoys your blabbering. Finds most of them funny.

But right now, you’re all quiet on your iPad and notes, focused on doing your work. The last thing he’s heard you say something was when you commented earlier, “This is a nice place,” when you stepped inside the threshold of his and Taehyung’s apartment.

No comment about his hair. Or his hoodie. Or the stupid occasional, “You look handsome today.” that makes his heart perform backflips against his ribcage and makes him all nervous that he can’t really look straight into your eyes for the rest of your interaction.

He finds it strange that he finds you strange today. He should be… happy about this right? He always tells his friends that you’re too… loud when they ask why he doesn’t seem to like you. For the record, he does not not like you. Jungkook just thinks you’re too much. 

Or that you make him feel too much it drives him insane.

“Are you alright?” He breaks the ice after a few minutes. He couldn’t help it. This isn’t like you at all. At this point, you should have already told him twenty different stories that includes your breakfast and the bird that keeps knocking on your window every 5am. By this time, you should have already asked him if he likes your outfit or some stupid shit like if he likes your nails. 

For the record, he likes all of them. Your blush pink nails and your pink skirt that stops above your thigh, exposing your smooth thighs that Jungkook always berates himself not to look at. You always wear skirts. He hates them. 

He hates that he doesn't really hate them. At all. 

“Huh?” You turn to look at him, blinking. Meek and pouty and puzzled. You look so cute it confuses the hell out of him. 

“I asked if you’re okay.” Jungkook says, leveling his voice. Lest he gives himself away. What would he give away, though? That he’s weirdly worried about your silence? That he’s starting to think maybe you’re getting fed up with his constant avoidance of you and you’re starting to realize he’s a shit person and he doesn’t deserve any of your time? 

That he’s putting way too much meaning into this? 

And what for? 

“Oh,” you utter. A bit taken aback. You nibble on your bottom lip and Jungkook tries hard not to focus too much on the way your gloss makes them look so plump. You had pretty lips. Jungkook’s not that prideful to admit that. Just to himself, though. “Yeah. I am fine. Why do you ask?” 

He clears his throat. “Nothing.” 

You look at him with furrowed brows but don’t really say anything further. “Okay.” 

When you go back to working in silence simultaneously again, Jungkook finds himself not being able to focus on the words of the journal article he’s reading. There’s a sentence to it he’s been going right over and over again. Everytime he reads it, it’s like the point just crosses right over his head and his efficacy in the language degrades every single time he repeats it internally.

All the while, you’re still quiet. 

And Jungkook’s had enough. 

Why weren't you saying anything? 

“__.” 

“Hm?” When you tilt your head to look at him, Jungkook nearly falls over his bed. You’re across the room on his computer desk while he’s on the mattress. 

God, you are so unbelievably beautiful without trying it makes his head ache. 

“Are you –uh. What’s with you today?” He finally asks. He watches as your face contorts into an expression of confusion once again, which he can’t really blame you for feeling the way. 

“What’s with me today?” 

“You’re just…” he tries to find the right words. “Quiet.” 

You don’t say anything for a while that Jungkook was about to take his words back. 

“Oh… I’m just not feeling well today, I think.” 

His brows furrowed. You looked perfectly fine today. You were your usual sunshine shelf when you stepped in class – all big grins and pretty laugh Seo Jihyun as usual was trying too hard to get your attention beside you all day. 

“Really?” He asks. “Do you need something?” 

It takes you by surprise. But you recover fast. “No, it’s fine.” 

“We don’t have to do this today if you’re feeling under the weather.” 

You laugh. And Jungkook thinks that’s a win. He thought he wasn’t getting any of that for today. 

“It’s fine, thank you, Jeon.”

Jeon?! Jeon, like his surname? 

He chooses to ignore that. But then a few minutes passed and he spoke again. God, he couldn’t stand any of this.

“How’s the bird?” 

“The bird?” You parrot back. 

“The bird at your window.” 

“Oh!” A flash of recognition goes through your face. “That. Well – as usual it knocked on my window again.” you giggle and it’s the first time Jungkook feels a little light ever since you entered his place. 

Good. This is good. 

“I didn’t know you’d remember that.” You say, giving him a small smile. 

Jungkook feels his cheeks burning so he had to look away. “You tell me about it everyday.” 

There’s a pout he can feel you’re sporting when you say, “But I thought you don’t care.” 

Jungkook frowns at that. 

But he realizes… he gets it. He doesn’t exactly show the opposite.

When he looks at you, your eyes are solemn and your downturned lips look so sad that it makes him feel like shit. 

See. This is why he’s always confused when he’s with you. You make him feel so much all at once and he can’t quite put it. 

“You tell me a lot of stuff everyday.” Is what he settles with. 

“Fair.” You say after awhile. “But uhm…” 

“Yes?” Jungkook immediately says, intrigued. You’re about to speak when his phone rings. You both look at the small device lying on his bed. When Jungkook picks it up, the caller ID says Han Hyorin. “Sorry, I’ll just pick this up.” 

Pressing on the green icon, he hears Hyorin’s voice at the end of the line. 

“Hey, Kook,” 

“Hi, Hyorin. What is it?” 

“What was your student email again? I can’t really find it on the roster.”

Jungkook recites it and then that’s the end of the conversation. He finds it strange because she could’ve just texted him but anyway, he turns to you again after the call ends. 

“Who was that?” You ask curiously. 

“Hyorin.” 

You still in your seat. Then nod. 

You don’t say anything again. 

And that stretches into another few minutes that Jungkook is once again confused. When he looks right over to you, you’re all up in your device. 

He stands up from the bed, leaves his laptop on the mattress, and then walks right over to your direction to stand behind the chair you’re seated on. Ducking down a bit, he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re doing. 

“You’re almost done?” 

When you turn back, your faces are so close to each other that his swivel chair creaks a little when you get taken aback. Jungkook steps back. 

“Yeah. I think so. You?” You say, looking up at him. 

Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair, inserting his hand on his pockets as he looks straight ahead on your screen. 

“I’ll finish up later.” 

You nod then turn back to your iPad. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows meet once again and he sighs. 

“__,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you mad at me?” 

You turn to him so quickly. “What?” 

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks because he can’t take any of this anymore. You’re so… distant. And it makes him feel like he’s on edge. “You’ve been so quiet since we got here. I want to apologize if I did something wrong. But even if I didn’t, then I’m still sorry.”

Jungkook watches as your lips part, surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth. Jungkook’s not the one to shy away from apologies – if he’s done something wrong, then he makes sure to take accountability. 

It’s different when it’s with you, though. He knows he isn’t exactly his nicest and his best to you… but it’s his complicated feelings that get in the way. He doesn’t know how to handle them. He doesn’t know how to handle you. 

“N-no!” You say. “You didn’t do anything.” 

He sends an arched brow your way. 

You shake your head vigorously. “It’s just… uhm… I thought…” 

“You thought…?” 

You look away, and it’s the first time Jungkook sees you seemingly shy. 

“I thought you’d like my company more if I didn’t talk much.” 

Now Jungkook’s just perplexed. 

You. ibble on your bottom lip before you say your next words. “I know you don’t exactly like me that much – that you’re just putting up with me because of this project and all that, but I really like you. Uhm. As a friend. I’d like to be your friend but I’m realizing now that I’m probably just annoying you with all of my blabbering and it’s unfair to you that I just keep on imposing myself on you even though you make it very clear that you’re not keen on befriend—” 

“__?” 

“— hm?” 

“Stop that.” Jungkook says because he can’t bear to hear you say things that aren’t the least bit true at all. “It’s not true.” 

“Which part?” you pout.

Jungkook would like to wipe that off your face with something. Like his lips. And that thought sends him into overdrive. He needs to get a grip of himself, seriously. 

“Everything.” 

What he doesn’t expect is for you to just frown. 

“You’re a liar.” 

“What?” 

You burst. “Well, for one– you always avoid me! You don’t even greet me in the hallways. And even in the same class you don’t smile at me or anything and the only time you ever acknowledge me is when we do this stupid project and okay I get it, you only like bubbly girls when they’re Han Hyorin, but why not me?”

Jungkook, puzzled, asks, “How’d Hyorin get into this?” 

Your shoulders deflate. “I don’t know.” 

“Can you—” Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. He closes his eyes before opening them back again. “Can you listen to me?” 

You plop back down on the chair with an indignant huff. Jungkook lets out a low chuckles but you only glare at him. 

So goddarn cute, he thinks to himself. 

“You’re just… you’re just too much okay?” He sees the way your face falls and he nearly punches himself for how he worded it. “Wait no– that’s not right. I meant, you’re just – you make me feel a lot of things, __.” 

“Things?” 

“Yeah. You confuse me.” 

“Why?” You look so confused it melts Jungkook. 

“I don’t know how to explain it either. Just that… you need to know I don’t not like you. I like your little blabbering. I look forward to your breakfast stories. I like your nails. I like your skirt. And I like your new apple pencil case.” 

Jungkook watches as your face turns soft. And suddenly, you have that million dollar grin again on your face. 

“Really?” 

“Hm.” 

You squeal and the next thing he knows you’re onto him, arms wrapped around his neck, locking him into a hug. 

“We’re friends now?” 

Jungkook takes the opportunity to encircle your waist around his arms, noting the size difference. And how easy it was for him to snuggle his nose subtly into your hair to smell your sweet shampoo and perfume in that position. 

You always smell so good. 

“Friends.” 

Jungkook doesn’t really think he can take both of you as just being friends, though.

[leona-hawthorne]

hiya! congrats on 1k! i’ve been in and around your blog for a while and thought it was time to send my first ask. May I get a book browsing? Mattheo Riddle with a cinderella moment and "Fuck you" "Love you too"

this is so cute! thank you for requesting 🤍🫂

1k celebration navigation

UNFORGETTABLE… book browsing

ミ★ MATTHEO RIDDLE

The Great Hall gleamed, a sea of enchantment under the soft glow of floating candles and glittering stars. You hated to admit it, but the Yule Ball looked almost perfect tonight. Almost.

Your dress was stunning—flowing fabric that caught the light like moonbeams, the soft clink of subtle jewelry as you moved—but it felt wasted. Your date, some Ravenclaw whose name you didn’t care to think about, had failed to show, leaving you stranded by the punch table, clutching a glass like it was your last hope for dignity.

Mattheo Riddle, of course, had noticed.

He always noticed, though whether it was to irritate or intrigue you depended entirely on his mood. Tonight, his dark gaze trailed you across the room, unreadable behind the mask of indifference he wore so well. But behind the mask, he was stunned at your beauty tonight. Well, you’d always been beautiful—he couldn’t deny that—but it was different tonight.

“Trouble in paradise?” his voice cut through the hum of music and chatter, low and smooth, as he sidled up to you. That mask of indifference—it was impenetrable, even if his heart was racing at the way your side profile looked in this light, with your hair all done up and pulled back over your bare shoulders.

You didn’t look at him. “Go away, Riddle.”

“That’s no way to speak to your knight in shining armor.”

You scoffed, finally turning to face him. It was weird—you could’ve sworn his eyes held a sparkle of warmth. “You’re the farthest thing from that.”

“And yet,” he smirked, leaning casually against the table, “here I am. Let me guess—your date’s a no-show, and now you’re thinking of leaving before anyone notices.”

Your jaw tightened, heat rising to your cheeks. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but you’d rather hex yourself than admit it. “What do you want?”

“To dance,” he said simply, like it wasn’t the most absurd thing in the world.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He straightened, offering a hand with the kind of confidence that bordered on infuriating. “Come on, princess. You can’t let that dress go to waste.”

You stared at his outstretched hand, skepticism warring with the ache in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to spend the night alone, but accepting help from Mattheo Riddle? That felt like surrender.

“I don’t need your pity, Mattheo,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“Who said anything about pity?” His lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe I just want the best-dressed girl here to make me look good for a change.”

Your scoff was automatic, but a flicker of curiosity sparked in your chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet,” he quipped, stepping closer, “you haven’t walked away.”

You hated that he was right. Maybe it was the warmth in his eyes, just faint enough to convince yourself it wasn’t real. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d noticed you at all, standing there alone in the middle of a crowd. Whatever it was, it made your fingers twitch toward his hand before you could stop yourself.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you said, letting him take your hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, leading you toward the dance floor.

The music swelled as you reached the center of the room. Other couples turned and swayed in perfect rhythm, their laughter and whispered words mixing with the melody. You felt the weight of their eyes as Mattheo placed a hand on your waist, his touch firm but not unwelcome.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, guiding you into the first steps of the waltz.

“Maybe that’s because I’m dancing with someone I can’t stand,” you shot back, though your voice lacked the venom you intended.

“Harsh,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You wound me.”

“You’ll live.”

But as the music carried you both, something shifted. His movements were surprisingly graceful, his confidence steady without being overbearing. For a boy who usually thrived on chaos, Mattheo Riddle was unexpectedly good at this. And worse, you found yourself relaxing—letting him lead, letting the music fill the silence between you.

“You clean up well, you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

You couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he echoed, his hand tightening slightly on your waist, “you’re still here.”

The night blurred into a strange kind of magic you hadn’t expected. Mattheo danced with a confidence that kept you steady, his hand firm against your back as he led you through each step. By the time the music ended, you weren’t sure whether to feel grateful or annoyed by how natural it had all seemed.

As he walked you back to your dorm, the castle was quiet, the distant echoes of the Yule Ball fading with every step. The tension between you was different now—softer, almost curious—but Mattheo, of course, couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“You know,” he drawled, breaking the silence, “you could’ve just asked me to the Ball in the first place. Would’ve saved you the trouble.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to glare at him. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged, his smirk infuriatingly intact. “I’m just saying, if I’d known you’d clean up like this, I might’ve asked you myself.”

The warmth in your chest vanished, replaced by the familiar sting of irritation. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, resuming your pace.

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected, keeping stride with you. “Come on, admit it—I made your night.”

“You’re delusional,” you shot back, though your cheeks betrayed you with their lingering heat.

By the time you reached the entrance to your dorm, you were ready to leave him and his insufferable grin behind. Turning to face him, you folded your arms, fixing him with your best glare.

“Well, thanks for the dance,” you said flatly. “Now you can go back to being your usual, annoying self.”

He tilted his head, studying you with that maddeningly unreadable expression. “That’s the plan,” he said easily, but something flickered in his eyes—something that made your stomach flip.

“Good,” you replied, turning toward the door.

But as you reached for the handle, he spoke again, his tone laced with the perfect amount of cocky amusement.

“By the way, you should’ve let me kiss you on the dance floor. It would’ve made your night unforgettable.”

You froze, your hand gripping the doorknob as your head snapped back toward him. His smirk deepened at the look on your face, and you could practically feel your blood boiling.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, slamming the door shut before he could respond.

From the other side, his voice came, warm and unbothered, echoing softly through the stone.

“Love you too.”

You stared at the closed door, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried—and failed—not to think about the way he’d said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he meant it.

And, worst of all, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto your lips.

[trustmypoison]

Ima

The three times Wonwoo flirted with you, and the one where you finally realize it. 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none that I can think of, just some fluff

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

“I was wondering when you’d be in,” you say as the shop door opens. Wonwoo gives a light smile. 

“Miss me or something?” He saunters up to the counter. You roll your eyes. He’s in the game shop you manage every week, it seems. He likes to rent games from this shop. It’s a mystery why. You know what he does for work, you don’t live under a rock. He could buy all the games he wants. Still, he comes in to rent a game that you recommend, play it, and return it the next week with a report on what he thought. 

“How was it?” You pick up the case he’s slid onto the counter and scan it for the return. 

Wonwoo shrugs. “You were right. Could have been better.”

“I’m always right,” you chortle jokingly. 

“I believe you,” he muses from across the counter. “What do you have for me this week?” 

You pull a case from underneath the counter from the spot that is affectionately known as Wonwoo’s little hiding spot. It even has a little piece of tape on it with his name on it. Sometimes things stay there even if someone else asks for the item. Preferential treatment for your best customer after all. “The sequel. It’s better, I promise.” 

He reaches for his pocket, but you wave him off. You don’t need his card to pull up his account anymore. You nearly have the account number memorized anyway. You’re sliding the case across to him when the shop door opens again. There’s a certain demographic that needs more help than others in a store like this, and the middle aged mom looking blankly around the store certainly fits the bill. Wonwoo doesn’t linger so you can help the woman find what she needs. 

Two

“Well?” You ask from the back of the store. You don’t have to look at whose come in, you just know. 

“You were right, it was better,” Wonwoo voices from the next aisle over before peeking around the corner. “Shipment? Anything good?” 

“Yours are already at the front,” you tease. 

Wonwoo looks smug. “Say you thought of me as soon as you opened the shipment.”

“Of course, I did,” you laugh, plopping the last of the plushies onto the shelf. “In fact, one of them I only ordered because of you.” 

Wonwoo laughs as he takes the empty box from you and trails behind you to the counter. This is another little routine when he visits. He knows where the cardboard boxes go. He even breaks them down and takes them out back to recycling sometimes if you’re swamped. “You love me so much.”

You hum as you put his little stack of things on the counter. You process his return and check out the rentals to him. When you slide them to him, he slides them back. “Put them back in my hiding spot for a bit. I’ll take care of the boxes before I go.”

“Oh, Wonwoo, you don’t have to do that. I can take care of it later. I’m here all day.”

He brushed you off, stepping behind the counter and taking the box cutter from the drawer. “You work alone on Tuesdays and hate to lock up in the middle of the day or leave the store unattended. Just let me run and do it. It’ll take five minutes.”

He’s right. You hate working alone, but none of your part timers have any availability on Tuesdays. The woes of hiring college students with busy class schedules. You let him break down the boxes and take them out back. 

When he comes back in, you hand him a plushie on top of his games. He looks like he might fight you on it, but you insist. “You aren’t getting paid for how you help around here. Just take the free plushie, Wonwoo.” He relents, telling you he’ll see you next week. 

Three

You’re working in the back the next time Wonwoo comes in. One of your part timers interrupts you while you’re making the schedule. “Wonwoo’s here. What did you have in mind for him this time?” Wonwoo’s one of the store’s favorite customers, not just yours, but the part timers let you handle filling his stack underneath the counter. 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you tell him, saving your work. When you see Wonwoo, you laugh, “Back again already? It’s only been a few days.” 

“What can I say? I missed you a little.” Wonwoo laughs. 

“What’d you think?” You ask, holding up one of the cases he’s returning.

“Great, actually. Do you have a copy I can buy?” He asks. 

You grin, pulling a brand new copy of the game from his little hiding spot. “Do I know you or what?”

“I guess so,” he agreed, grinning. When you scan the rentals you picked for him, he speaks up. “Can you extend the date for those? I’ll have to travel starting next week and they might be late.” 

You wave him off. “You know I’ll waive the fees for you. When have you ever been late before?” 

“Never. Otherwise, how would I see you?” He laughs, handing you his credit card for the new game. His phone rings as he’s signing the receipt and he quickly excuses himself. The shop door is closed before you pick up the receipt to put it in the register. For whatever reason, the receipt format has a tip line, despite never needing to tip someone at a game store. You’ve told corporate dozens of times that it confuses people, and you wish you’d pushed a little harder because Wonwoo’s left a totally unnecessary tip for the exact price of the plushie you gave him last week. He must have looked on the website to find out how much it cost.

You scoff, stuffing the receipt in the register. You’ll get him back for this somehow. 

Four

The next time he comes in, you’re standing on a stool to change a light bulb. He scoffs as his hands come around your calves to steady you. “Why didn’t you let someone taller do this for you?”

“Couldn’t wait. The bulb blew yesterday back here and no one’s in until Wednesday. You can’t even see the shelves without it,” you say, making absolutely no move to get off the stool until the job is done. “How was your trip?”

He hums. “Fine. Paris Fashion Week.”

“Ooo, fancy,” you chuckle. “What? You didn't enjoy one of the most romantic cities in the world?”

You can hear the smile in his voice even though he’s behind you. “Eh. I’ve been before. Plus, you weren’t there.”

“Never been,” you say lightly. “All done!” You clap before trying to climb off the stool. You’re surprised when you’re suddenly in the air and even let out a little squeak. Wonwoo’s hands leave your waist as soon as your feet are back on the ground. “Thanks,” you say weakly.

He looks so fucking casual about it as he shrugs. “Didn’t want you to fall.” You’re abnormally flustered as you turn to go to the counter. You process his returns. It’s an old habit to pop open every case and do a once-over to the disc, even though you know Wonwoo’s never returned anything damaged. 

Inside the last case is a slip of paper with some numbers written on it. “Oh, did you leave this in here?” You pick it up and hold it out to him. 

He shakes his head. “Oh, no. That’s for you.” 

“It’s a phone number,” you say, confused. You’re even more confused when he bites back a grin. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s mine.” 

“… What?”

He’s still grinning. “I know it’s on my account, but you’ve never used it, so I thought I’d make myself clear.” 

“Do you… like me or something?” The words sound weird as they come out of your mouth. 

This makes him bark out a loud, slightly exasperated laugh. “Y/N, I flirt with you every single time I come in. It’s really the only reason I come in.” 

“Are you serious?” You stutter out.

“Yeah, I am. Not that it was getting me anywhere. I decided for a more direct approach this time. I missed you while I was traveling and having your phone number would have been nice.” 

You’re still so baffled at his confession and subsequent amusement that you’re a little robotic. “Oh… okay then.” 

“There’s really no pressure, Y/N.” He seems to mean it. He gestures behind the counter. “What do you have for me today?” 

“A couple older ones, not sure if you’ve played them before,” you say, totally distracted. He glances at the covers and shrugs. 

“I’ll take them,” he says simply. His phone rings and he steps away with an apology. The check out is complete within a few seconds, but you stall out, staring at the pen and post it notes next to the register. He sounds like he’s wrapping up his call, so you rush, scribbling on to the note and stuffing it inside one of the cases. When he approaches the counter again, he looks apologetic. “I’m sorry, I can’t stick around. That was work.” You wave him off and he’s almost out of the door when he turns around. “Really, no pressure, okay?” 

You nod, grinning to yourself when the door closes behind him. You stuff the little paper into your pocket and move on with work. Later that night, you’re locking up when you’re phone buzzes. You recognize the number from earlier and it makes you laugh. So does the message. 

‘I forgot how good this game is. You’re always right.’

[tarysande]

The best part about coming back to the source material after a looooong time is you sorta get a fresh look at canon in comparison to whatever the dominant strains of fanon have become. Or, in fact, whatever your own dominant strains of headcanon have become.

I mean, yes, Garrus “I’m not a good turian” Vakarian gets infinitely cooler (and more competent!) by pretty much every metric as the storyline progresses. He does. But fresh out of ME1 and into ME2 through his recruitment, I find myself genuinely amused by how thin the veneer of badass is over a pretty dominant core of straight-up nerd sprinkled with idealism mixed with self-doubt.

When you have Garrus in the squad all the time (and thus get all his ambient dialogue and remarks), you really pick up on the number of times he calls out bad behavior, unethical actions, cruelty, and rule-breaking, especially in ME1.

He’s not actually a hothead who can’t abide rules of any kind. In fact, most of the time he’s pretty pro-law-and-order, and he gets amusingly hall-monitorish when people are breaking rules he considers important and worth following.

Fundamentally, Garrus chafes when his sense of what is just is at odds with what the authorities do about that injustice (or what they stop him from doing). And I would hazard a guess that the reason his actions seem so intense or harsh or "of course we should have shot down that ship in the middle of the Citadel" is indicative not of his impatience but of the degree to which he thinks the authorities have failed to uphold that justice. We know he can be patient. He's a sniper. His whole modus operandi on Omega is precision kills without civilian casualty. But when that long fuse finally burns down, he goes from zero to shooting down ships in the middle of the Citadel in what looks (from the outside) like a heartbeat.

And yes, injured pride hastens the burning of that fuse; he doesn’t like losing. Or admitting defeat. Or failing.

Having just replayed his recruitment mission, a few things really stood out to me this time.

The merc bands really hate him--and they also reluctantly admire him (he's described as smart, resourceful, dangerous, idealistic, brave, slippery; they all agree they only way they managed to get this far is by isolating him and employing dirty tactics). I mean, there's literally a station-wide announcement that Omega can return to "business as usual" once Archangel is out of the picture because he was disrupting things so completely.

The way Garrus blames himself for the deaths of his squad is so freaking turian. Failure reflects on the leader who places his people in danger they can't handle, not the individual who fails. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Yes, Sidonis betrayed him, but the person Garrus blames the most? Is himself. For trusting Sidonis in the first place. For raising Sidonis to a position where he had the means and opportunity to harm others--and the weakness of character to turn coat, to save his own hide, instead of dying to protect the others.

Garrus mentions more than once that he was trying to emulate Shepard. And his tone always implies that he knows he failed because Shepard would never have let a Sidonis into the fold. Again, he's blaming himself. Like a good turian. Yes, he wanted to avoid the red tape and bureaucracy of C-Sec, but his code--Archangel's code--certainly aligns with Paragon Shepard's morality (with a Garrus Vakarian twist).

And since it wouldn't be meta without adding a Tara's Headcanon Twist ... I've always wondered why "Archangel" when it's such a ... human concept. But this time, when I noticed how he spoke about Shepard's influence, and how quickly he brushes aside the name when she asks him about it, I wondered if it wasn't actually his way of honoring the mythology of the dead woman whose example he was trying to follow. Not that Shepard is a God he's worshiping, but ... there is something about the way he talks about her. Garrus doesn't make himself over in the image of a God, though; he's the soldier, the right hand, the avenging angel responsible for carrying out divine punishments suited and proportional to the crimes committed, the rules broken, the selfishness or cruelty of the perpetrator.

[agnessintheocean]

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" asked Wayne one day to Eddie, it's been a week since he took him in, just a small boy with big doe eyes, he had that sad kind of look that no child should ever have. At first Wayne couldn't imagine taking a kid into his home, but when little Eddie looked at him all, he thought was, he couldn't let anyone hurt that small boy. He already had a hard enough life for someone so young, so he found himself taking an immediate liking to him, not hesitating to give him a better life, at least as much as he could. It's been just a week and it felt like he's been his kid his whole life, he couldn't imagine not loving him. His innocent toothy grin, his curiosity about every little thing, his bright eyes that light up so much when he smiles. He was just a small, beautiful boy whose childish giggle could make a man with the coldest heart melt. That boy who was laying on his couch upside down next to him, watching a silly kids show the name he couldn't remember, that prompted the question that fell out of Wayne's mouth "And what do you want to be when you grow up kid?". Little Eddie's mouth turned into a pout as he looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Kind." he answered after a moment. Such a simple and innocent answer that had Wayne smile softly. He couldn't imagine Eddie be anything other than just a kind boy. Silence took over them, just the sound of the tv on. Wayne just put his hand over the small one of Eddie's and gave it a little squeeze, the boys mind already focused back on the kids TV show, the topic flew out of his mind. And Wayne left it at that, turning his eyes onto what Eddie's pointing at on the TV screen.

Years later it's Eddie, his now boyfriend Steve (if someone said that he would end up together with Steve he would laugh at them), Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle, the best friends he made along the harsh way, sitting around in circle, beers in hand and an empty bottle in the middle, playing truth or dare, which no one remembers how they got to playing it. Once the bottle pointed at Steve, Robin asked the obvious question "Truth or dare?". Steve thought for a second "Truth." he said knowing his best friend might come up with an over the top dare, he chose a safer option. Robin, quite tipsy at this point, after a moment of silence asked "If someone asked you what Eddie is like what would the first thing you think of be?". Steve didn't have to think for long before he said "Kind.". Eddie looked up at him in surprise, his mind suddenly going back to that night with Wayne when he asked that one question when he was just a small child. He got filled with that nostalgic feeling and all he could think of as he stared adoringly at his boyfriend, who had no idea how much that one word means to him, was "Hey uncle Wayne, i did it".

[ivyasproperty]

Necklace.

agathario x fem!witch!reader

summary - You made an impulsive decision and bought a necklace adorned with gems. Why?

warning(s) - some cursing

word count : 967

A/N : here reader is also a witch, but it's mentioned only once soooo..

men / minors dni!

You have no idea why you bought it. You were already struggling financially, so why in gods name did you buy a necklace worth almost your entire fortune?! You tried to calm down your racing mind, sweating buckets as you try and figure out why you made the impulsive decision to buy a necklace. You thought maybe because it was beautiful, adorned with purple and green gems, but you've seen multiple magnificent things in life and you've never made the stupid decision to buy it, even when you wanted it so badly, so when egged you to buy this monstrosity?

As you paced around your living room, necklace in hand, a sudden knock at your front door caught your attention. With how loudly and rapidly they were knocking, they've probably been at it for awhile now. You rushed to the door, not wanting to keep the person waiting and seem like a bad person, but stopped halfway. You were living in the middle of nowhere. The reason being running away from the witch hunters. Yes, you had powers, powerful ones in fact, but harming others never sat right with you. And if harming someone or something didn't sit right with you, don't even mention killing someone.

So as quickly as you could, you placed the necklace down and grabbed a nearby frying pan, just for extra measures, and rushed to open the door, but not before peeping through the windows. After seeing who was outside, you sighed in annoyance and reluctantly opened the front door. Standing there was the one and only infamous witch killer, Agatha Harkness, and beside her, Lady Death, also known as your past lovers. Things were rocky after your break up, and even though it took you awhile for your heart to heal, you managed. But seeing them in front of you brought back all the buried up emotions you spent forever to get over.

"What do you want?" "We need somewhere to camp out, pet.", said Agatha. Before you could even reply her, she brushed past you and welcomed herself into your humble abroad. "Yes, do come in," the sentence was very obviously dripped with sarcasm, but Agatha decided to ignore it. You looked back to the front door, not surprised Rio wasn't standing there, she probably teleported herself inside. As you closed the door, Agatha spoke up "What's this necklace doing here? I have to say, it is a beauty, but aren't you like... broke?" "Don't be rude." said the green witch. You snatched the necklace out of her hands and rolled your eyes, "It's none of your business, Agatha."

And as you walked away to the kitchen, necklace still in hand, that's when you realized the reason you bought the necklace Well fuck, you were in deep shit. You kept asking yourself a certain question, didn't you get over them? And you always said yes, but I guess your dumbass still hasn't gotten over them. But who could blame you? Agatha's crystal blue eyes, Rio's dark brownish hair.... oh god you were trailing off again.

As you stood there in a daze, Agatha and Rio stared at you with utter confusion. You've always been a responsive and quick-witted person, so seeing you just standing there in your own world was certainly a new experience. "What's wrong with her?", whispered Agatha, "How the hell am I supposed to know?" You came back to your senses while they were whispering, not sure how to stay calm. You were supposed to be over them! Gone! Out of your heart and mind! But as you looked back down at the necklace in your hands, you couldn't help the longing stare you gave to both the necklace and them.

Rio could sense it, the longing, the wanting them back. She nudged the witch standing beside her, whose attention was occupied by the horrid decorations of your home, which you tried make do. As she looked at you, she too couldn't help but notice the stare you were giving them. To be honest, the reason the two witches came to your doorstep was because they wanted to try and mend the relationship you guys once had. Sure, they were content with each other, but you were still etched into their minds. And with that, they just needed to exchange a knowing look and went along with their plan to win you back.

You didn't notice them moving from their spot, too focused on the necklace in your hands. So it was an understatement at the fact you were startled when two pair of hands wrapped around you. But you didn't jump away from their embrace, instead leaning into the two pair of arms. You missed this, the warmth they radiated from their bodies. Rio took the necklace and clipped it around your neck as Agatha hugged you tighter, not willing to let go as she inhaled your scent, not wanting to forget it even though it was already embedded into her senses.

"I missed this," whispered Agatha. "We all did, and we're sorry, darling. For what we've done. Agatha and I were wondering if.... you'd like to give it another chance?" It was rare for Rio's voice to be this soft. She's always been this cold hearted woman, but the vulnerability in her voice didn't startle you, instead it brought a warmness to your heart. You stood there in their embrace for awhile, contemplating whether you should accept their proposal or not. "Last chance," you whispered.

And as you three stood there together, their hands traveled to the necklace around your neck. And you felt a tingly sensation in your stomach. You should've realized the reason you bought the necklace sooner, considering how the gems that adorned it were the signature colors of your two lovers.

A/N : not that big of a fan of this but whatever!!!! hope you enjoyed this! don't hesitate to give a request!!! ><

[homunculus-argument]

Rural Finland gothic

the asphalt road you are driving has been cut through the woods. the sky is clouded and grey, the asphalt is grey, the forest on both sides of you is green. no other colour exists other than green and shades of grey. sometimes blue roadsigns point towards places whose names you've never heard. you don't google them. it's none of your business.

sometimes you drive past a house, a wooden house painted white, yellow or red. the paint is faded and chipping, there is moss growing on the roof tiles. there are lace curtains in the windows and a bench on the yard, but you cannot tell by the quick glance you get whether the house is abandoned or not. the residents don't want you to know. it's none of your business.

you pause at a gas station. it seems to be a part of a chain that you thought went bankrupt in the 90s. a handful of those wooden houses are settled around it, and you wonder if any of the people living there work at the station. not that it matters. it's none of your business.

there are a handful of locals gathered inside the gas station, drinking coffee at the table. They smell like pine soap, resin and mosquito repellent, and you can't tell whether paused their conversation to silently stare at you when you stepped in, or whether they had been sitting in silence to begin with. you don't ask. it's none of your business.

the station cashier doesn't talk to you save for a greeting and a few quick nods. you can't tell whether it's because they assume you don't speak finnish. they don't ask where you came from, or where you're going. it's none of their business.

the road leads you somewhere with more houses and buildings. the locals don't call the town by the name. it's just church town, the church is there. people don't say they're going to the town to buy their groceries, they say they'll be at the church. you're not sure whether the town was built around the church or the church was built into the town. It's none of your business.

people talk of going to the church when they're going to the town, but nobody seems to go in the church. people only go there to be christened, for confirmation, to get married and to be buried. a child has not been officially named before they're christened, and no-one will tell you the name of their baby before the child has been given their name by a priest. most of them don't seem to know why, and you don't ask. it's none of your business.

even the town is strangely quiet. you see seven people altogether, and half of that number is a family of four. besides the sound of a car rumbling by, and the occasional barking of a dog, you hear nothing. you're standing in the parking lot of a grocery store, across the street from a library, in a walking distance from the town square, and it's so quiet you hear the sound of wind whispering in nearby trees.

there is a dog barking somewhere. of course they are barking, they are guard dogs and hunting dogs. they're supposed to do that. they bark to alert their masters of game, of intruders, of strangers and outsiders. sometimes they bark at the woods, when it doesn't look like there's anything there. the locals don't go investigate it. it's none of their business.

you see the same symbol drawn, doodled and carved anywhere that graffiti accumulates to. an oval divided in the middle, with rays like a sun. it's called the "church boat", though everyone knows it's meant to be a cunt. you remember reading somewhere that it's an ancient symbol, from the time of the Old Gods before the christians came, when the inherent power of the woman of the house was considered stronger than even death magic. you don't ask what the people here know about this. it's none of your business.

the locals can tell you're an outsider here because you don't look like anyone they know. if you were someone's visiting grandchild, they could tell by your face which clan you belong to. they don't ask you what other business you could possibly have here. it's none of their business.

[earlysunshines]

tutor perks

park jihyo x fem!reader ; fluff, smut ; pt. 2

synopsis: the kid you’re tutoring has a really sweet, charming hot aunt.

warnings: alcohol ; not proofread so many spelling and grammatical errors (probably) ; mmm smut ; smut; and smut ; praise ; overstimulation ; almost fucking in the fancy bathroom ; reader ruined by jihyo ; men mentioned yuck!! ; food ; jihyo is like seven years older than reader ; mmm anything else i’ve missed ; physics mentioned 😵‍💫

a/n: i need her so bad like

(um ALSO i wrote half of this on my phone (that era was...))

- 

you’re assigned to tutor a high school student, some junior boy named matthew park that’s falling behind in a couple of subjects. the lady at the front office had provided you directions to the library, but still, it took you a few wrong turns and another ask to actually get there. 

walking in, you notice the lively yet quiet ambiance filling the room. there are groups of students studying together, giggling and pushing each other around as they do so. another group seems to be much more focused than the others, all furrowing their brows while examining whatever paper is on the table. 

you scan the room and look for a guy who should be alone, and to the right, you spot just that. 

he’s hunched over a little and his eyes are glued to the phone in his right hand while he spins a pencil with the other hand. the guy has on a green crewneck sweater and the headphones he wears squish some of his dark hair, which is parted messily in the middle. you tap on his desk subtly—he looks up with raised brows and takes off his headphones. 

you shoot a friendly smile and begin to speak, “hi, are you—“ 

“matthew, yeah.” he interrupts, “matt is fine.” 

his voice is pretty low, and something about his energy and mannerisms tell you that he’s some type of athlete. he runs a hand through his hair as you sit down next to him and fixes his posture. at least he has some manners, unlike the type of athletes you had to deal with a few years ago. 

“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you greet, sticking out your hand—which matt takes—and shaking his bigger, rougher one.  

you clear your throat and look at the slightly creased notes on the table accompanied by the spiral notebook and green folder. setting down your own bag on the floor, you ask, “so, what is it that you’re struggling with the most?” 

matt glances at the entrance for a brief moment then looks down at the work in front of him and clenches his jaw, crossing his arms.  

“physics and precalculus.” he simply says, his voice seeming small and ashamed. you glance over towards where he was before, catching a group of five teenagers—all seemingly athletic from the apparel they wear—and start to catch onto his sudden bashful demeanor. 

“alright, i can help you with that.” you assure, “i’ll try to make this quick and do the best i can to help, just let me know what you want me to explain.” 

matt nods, picking up the pencil and huffing. 

- 

after tutoring math and reliving your high school physics trauma, you’re headed out the entrance of the library and trying to find your way to the main doors.  

“wait!” a voice calls out, “y/n, was it?”  

turning around, you stand a few feet away from matt, whose headphones are resting around his neck comfortably. he rubs his neck and then pinches the bridge of his nose before shutting his eyes tightly. 

you tilt your head, wondering what this boy needs; was it some extra notes or help? 

“yes?” 

“i um,” he begins, tensing his jaw and shaking his head. “i don’t know if this is appropriate to ask you since you’re a tutor—and i swear i’m not hitting on you!” he catches himself, groaning after he speaks. “i just, don’t want to be seen getting tutored, it’s embarrassing because i’m… i’m not doing well academically right now.” 

“matt, it’s okay, don’t feel—” 

“stop,” he says bluntly. “look, you were probably in my place a couple of years ago or something, i don’t know. just, i don’t like being seen like this because i used to be better, but my professors and everything…” 

“i get that, we can work it out! i was actually really good at physics and i know how bad it can be, i was there and precalculus is pretty simple to me.” 

“yes and thank you, i just wanted to ask if we could change locations. somewhere that’s not where i go to school.” 

“where were you thinking matt?” you ask, quirking a brow and ignoring the little buzz from your phone that’s in your pocket. 

he sighs and repeats, “before i ask; i’m not hitting on you, i swear to god.”  

“matt if you’re insisting some type of café i’m fine with that, people study there all the-“ 

“no, i’d be recognized there too.” he mumbles. “can you just come over to my house? i’ll even have my aunt texting you to say it’s okay, i don’t know if you need that confirmation or whatever, i mean, i’m a minor and i get that it might be iffy.” 

“oh, i see.” you mutter in response. “i mean, we can do that, just have your aunt text me, yeah?” 

“okay.” he responds, “can we do this thursday? i have a physics test on friday.” 

“that’s fine, i’ll do my best to help you out matt.” 

he smiles gratefully. “thank you y/n.”  

-- 

once you’re out of your car after parking near the curb across the street, you get a real good view of matt’s house and damn, the place is nice. 

it’s pretty big and modern, but not too modern that it’s uncomfortable, it just stands out. 

you walk down the little pathway towards the door, which is illuminated by dimmed, warm lights, and tilt your neck to the side to crack it before knocking. a few moments later, you hear the locks click as they turn and the door opens, matt opens it and he’s wearing some white t-shirt, which is paired with black sweatpants. 

“thank you for coming, and again, i swear i’m not hitting on you.” 

“matt, it would be very illegal for me to do anything like that with you. i get it, seriously.” 

“just making sure.” he says, “come in, my aunt is coming home soon.” 

his aunt had sent you a text asking if you were his tutor, and she had thanked you for offering such assistance to her nephew. the lady—his aunt—seemed sweet. her tone via text and the amusing emojis she used had given you this image of some woman in her 40s or 50s, probably baking cookies and thanking you with a warm hug for helping her dear relative. you’ll meet her later; hopefully, she does end up giving you cookies. 

matt leads you to the dining area and as you make your way there, the aroma of vanilla fills the air. maybe it was the cookies that were waiting for you, or you’re just really hungry and craving something sweet. 

“i have the things i need to study, he gave us this study guide and i have some questions regarding the velocity equations.” he explains, but stops himself in his tracks and mutters an “ah,” before asking, “did you want anything to drink?” 

“no, no.” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “let’s get started, shall we?” 

the rhythmic ticking of the clock echoed through the room as you continued to guide matt through the complexities of his physics homework. frustrated groans and muttered curses painted a vivid picture of the challenges he was enduring—in this case, one of the most dreadful subjects ever—and you found yourself helping him whenever you could. 

as the sounds of the front door unlocking reached your ears, both you and matt instinctively turned towards the entrance. matt, eager to get a small break from the terrible page of paper in front of him, leapt up to open the door just as it swung ajar. 

"hey, auntie," he greeted, the familial connection evident in his tone. 

“hi matt, there are some groceries i need you to take in, would you mind helping me out?” 

“no not at all,” he says, then excuses himself to go help out with the groceries. 

the figure that emerged into the room drew your attention like a magnetic force. matt's aunt strode in with an air of authority that commanded immediate respect. your jaw tensed as you observed her approach, an almost instinctive reaction to the oddly powerful aura exuded from her. how crazy it was for a woman who’s just appeared to have you sit up in your seat. 

she was not what you expected—a far cry from the stereotypical image you had of aunts in their 40s or 50s, definitely not as old as you had assumed. instead, she carried an ageless poise, appearing young but undeniably mature. dressed in a black blazer that teased the line between formal and casual, ending provocatively above her knees, she was a vision that held your gaze captive. 

however, it wasn't just the flawless outfit that ensnared your attention. it was the remarkable contours of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones that had your jaw dropping just barely as you were in your trance. her steps echoed with a strange power, and even in her approach, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation just by existing within her proximity. 

as matt’s aunt neared, her gaze locked onto yours—a gaze that felt both deathly and tremendously allurin — then, she smiled, a shift in demeanor that caught you off guard. the stern, professional aura melted away, replaced by a wonderfully cute smile that seemed to rival her intimidating presence. 

you—caught in a momentary trance—couldn't help but reciprocate with a dorky smile, your hand instinctively moving to fix your hair, as if trying to match the sudden change in atmosphere. what a mess you were for someone’s aunt you’ve just laid your eyes on.  

"ah, you're y/n, matt's tutor, am i correct?" she inquired, her voice sent a ripple of warmth through the room. the cadence of her words held a subtle allure, a tone that rang with confidence and undeniable charm. her voice was a little on the deeper end, but regardless it was hot and you could for sure get used to it. 

you managed to nod, finding your voice despite the sudden whirlwind of emotions. "yes, that's me. nice to meet you, miss park." 

“no need to be so formal hon.” she chuckles, pleased. “you can call me jihyo.” she assures with a smile. jihyo stretches out her hand and you take it, her hands are soft and smaller than yours, and her nails well manicured. “you have nice hands y/n.”  

that is such a crazy statement coming from someone’s beautiful, striking aunt who you’ve met for the first time ever and just now. your cheeks flush and you laugh shyly before responding, “thank you, your hands are um, they’re nice too.” 

after realizing that you’ve been holding this woman’s hand for too long, you pull away and run a hand through your hair again. jihyo smiles at you before walking over to the desk and examining the paper, she sighs and raises her brows. 

“ah, physics, i was never good at that when i was in high school.” 

“yes it’s something a lot of people struggled with in high school, i was lucky to be able to do well in that class.” you shrug, and jihyo looks at you impressed. 

“i see, you must be smart huh? and how old are you sweetheart?” 

your knees almost give up on you after this crazy hot woman just called you sweetheart, yet you manage to respond to her without stuttering or sounding like a fool. “i’m 20.” 

“ah, pretty young huh. you’re in college?” 

“yeah. education major, actually.” 

“how cute.” she responds amusingly, “well, thank you again for teaching my nephew. i’ll be upstairs, just send a text or shout if he’s a hassle. thanks hon.” 

jihyo shoots you a grateful smile before patting you on the shoulder; you might just die right then and there. you gulp lightly and manage to choke out a response, “y-yeah, no problem.” which makes the older woman giggle softly before leaving. 

you have got to get a grip. 

-- 

the woman you’ve interacted with for no more than three minutes surely left a mark with her first impression. now you’re putting more effort into your appearance than you did for that date you had three weeks ago with the girl sarah set you up with. 

you slip into a white graphic baby tee that effortlessly molds around your figure, the perfect balance of snug and comfortable. the tee you were gifted is paired with your beloved thrifted boyfriend jeans, their wash perfectly complements your top and if you were to stretch just a little bit, jihyo would get a glimpse of the line that runs down your tummy. a hint of effortlessness fills the air as you tie up the upper half of your hair, allowing loose strands to gently caress your shoulders and frame your face. light and natural makeup enhances your best features, purposefully done to emphasize your appeal with a touch of ease.  

when you reach the front door of matt’s house, you brush a strand of hair out and pat down the black cardigan you have on before knocking on it three times. the familiar teenage boy opens it up and greets you with a smile, inviting you in.  

everything goes as usual: you situate yourself in a different room this time and matt hands you his assignments. you take your time to give them a good look, and then ask him what he needs help with. this time he needs help with precalculus, and thankfully, you’re pretty good at that too. 

you watch him work on the assignments for a bit and start to get thirsty, and then you realize you’ve forgotten your water bottle on the counter in your small apartment.  

“ah i forgot my bottle… could i get some water?” you ask him, and he nods without looking away from the paper. 

“yeah, the kitchen is down the hall to the right. there’s bottles in the fridge. could you grab me a coke zero?” 

“yeah, thanks, i’ll be quick. just work on these for the time being.” he hums in response to you and continues to write down various messy scribbles while solving some type of math problem he’s been assigned. 

you do as he says: walk down the hall and to the right to enter the familiar kitchen you were near last time and you’re met with the familiar older woman that had you all flustered before. she’s standing by the stove and cooking something up and it smells great. awkwardly, you walk over to the fridge and she turns after catching you in her peripheral. 

she smiles immediately upon meeting your presence. 

“y/n! hi honey, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo greets, “i’ve been wanting to see you again.” 

“you have?” your cheeks flush immediately, and you manage to recompose yourself, clearing your throat before responding,, “it’s nice to see you too..” 

jihyo looks you up and down, eyes pausing for two seconds on the baby tee hugging your figure before meeting your eyes again. her look does things that she wants her hands doing, but that’s for her to know. 

“did you need anything sweetheart?” she asks, raising a brow. her question doesn’t process through your head until a few moments after. you were too busy admiring her from head to toe, taking in her features, the casual outfit she has on—eyes enjoying the view of her cleavage that slightly shows in that black tank top she wears.  

you clear your throat again. 

“oh i was just getting some drinks for matt and i.” you respond, quickly darting your eyes away from her chest.  

the older woman giggles amusingly, “take whatever you’d like from there.” 

“thank you miss— i mean, jihyo. it’s fine really, just thirsty and matt wants a coke zero, haha.” 

“alright~” she says, dragging her response teasingly. “just let me know, ‘kay?”  

“yeah, thanks.” you smile sheepishly and nod, then grab the drinks you almost forgot about before walking away.  

jihyo looks you up and down as you step into the hall, smirking a bit before going back to cook the dinner she’d been preparing.  

when you get back to the room where you had been tutoring, you spot matt, who is still writing down some equation down on his paper. he looks up once he hears you, then smiles after seeing the coca-cola in your hand. 

“here’s your drink.” you smile. 

“thanks.” 

“it’s no problem, your aunt told me to grab as much as i’d like. is she always so… sweet?” 

“i mean, i guess so. she’s pretty laid back with my friends as long as we don’t do too much.” matt opens the can and shakes his head as a small laugh slips out. “she’s definitely more generous with you, i can tell. she asked me about you actually.” 

“she what?” your eyes widen and your head turns. “what did she ask?” 

“nothing too important, just when you’d be over again.” matt shrugs, then his adam’s apple moves up and down whilst his neck muscles tense and relax as he gulps down the carbonated drink. “damn this is fizzy—” he says, then coughs. “fuck.” 

matt leaves you with an awareness of jihyo’s curiousity towards your own self, and now you’re trying to focus on tutoring the kid whilst thinking of his aunt.  

“good job matt, i can see you’re already getting much better. the concepts and formulas seem to be clicking, yeah?” you praise, he nods. matt stretches his arms out and you roll your shoulders back to release some tension. 

after helping him tidy up, you make sure everything is back in your own tote bag that you had brought. matt turns towards the entrance to the room and his eyebrows raise a bit, then you turn and see the same woman. your jaw tenses—lips part slightly too. 

jihyo walks in and the sway of her hips isn’t unnoticeable. she looks at the two of you, eyes lingering on you longer than her own nephew, then beams. “matt, help me set up dinner will you?” 

“mhm, gotchu. what’s for dinner by the way?” 

“steak and pasta, go mix up the pasta would you?” 

“yes aunt hyo.” matt complies, then shoots you a grateful grin before standing up with an exaggerated, tired sigh. he walks past jihyo, leaving the two of you alone. 

your heart beats embarrassingly fast once matt is gone, it thumps so hard in your chest that you’re afraid that jihyo may hear.  

“done for the day?” jihyo questions, walking over to you. 

you gulp. “yeah, just finished actually.” 

“i see, you must be hungry.” then jihyo locks eyes with you, and you genuinely think it might be something more—or maybe you’re delusional—who knows. “stay for dinner.” 

okay maybe it’s something more, or you’re just a desperate, lovesick gay college student that’s borderline head over heels. 

“oh it’s fine, really.” you say it with uncertainty, waving your hands in the air with an awkward smile. “i don’t want to trouble you.” 

“it’d be anything but a trouble y/n.” jihyo counters, “if anything the trouble would be letting a pretty lady like you out my house with an empty stomach.” 

jihyo places her hand on your shoulder, then squeezes it lightly. her eyes have you paralyzed in place, drilling into your pupils and then finding their attention on your lips. jihyo is slightly shorter than you, yet you feel so helpless under than her. an amused smirk plays on her lips and you find yourself clutching your tote bag strap a little tighter. 

“…then i’ll take your offer, thank you.” you nod awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. 

jihyo nods, feeling accomplished, then pulls her hand off your shoulder. “i’ll have matt know there’s going to be an extra plate then. come on sweetheart.” 

-- 

now you’re sat at the dining table with jihyo across. she’s grinning and her eyes keep wandering all over you, but most of the time they’re focused on your face. 

matt hands you a plate with steak and alfredo pasta, then some utensils. he places a cup of water down on a coaster and pushes it towards you, then hands his aunt a glass of white wine.  

matt takes a bite of the meal and sighs, pleased with how it satisfies his hunger. jihyo laughs at him whilst he goes on to devour the plate. you follow after him and twirl some of the noodle against your spoon, then stab a piece of steak with your fork. the bite you take is filled with some saltiness, though it’s deliciously savory—just how you like it. 

jihyo smiles. “good?” 

“it’s great, thank you again jihyo.”  

“anytime, i fancy your company.” she responds before taking a bite herself. 

there’s a question brewing in your mind, but you’re second-guessing yourself because it seems a bit rude, well, maybe. jihyo swallows the steak and reaches for her glass again. 

“so it’s just you and matt?” you ask, avoiding eye contact. 

matt turns and raises a brow, then shrugs it off. jihyo simply nods her head. 

“just me and the troublemaker.” she jokes, which earns an eye roll from matt. “he moved here a few years ago, the school over here is excellent for him. great academics, extracurriculars, sports teams…” 

“i see. good for him then.”  

“what about you?” jihyo questions. you look up at her in the middle of chewing down your pasta, rushing to get a response out. 

“sorry, what?” 

“just you? no boyfriend or… significant other?”  

surprisingly, you don’t choke on your food. “oh no, not at the moment.” 

“that’s a shame, and a surprise.” she takes another bite of steak and chews on it in the right side of her cheek, puffing it out a little. “i wonder why no one has made a move, i would’ve if there were a beauty like you around.” 

matt pauses, his brows furrow and he looks at his aunt with some slight concern. “auntie?” 

“i’m only teasing silly, just complimenting,” jihyo says, laughing to ease the tension in the air (though, it doesn’t work. your heart starts racing again and the meal gets harder to finish). “it’s better than whatever you’ve said over the phone to those—”  

matt coughs, then shakes his head. “okay okay, we get it.” he rolls his eyes (again) and shrinks into his seat, making jihyo giggle. you laugh as well and matt scoffs as he pokes at the steak on his plate. 

there’s a sudden buzz that makes the table vibrate slightly. your phone sits next to your glass of water, and you reach for it hastily. due to your clumsy handling, the water topples over, spilling all over shirt—your chest. 

“shit—” you curse and stand up quickly.  

“matt, grab some napkins for y/n.” jihyo orders, quickly walking over to your side of the table. she grabs the napkins from her nephew and hands them to you, then urges you to follow her. she turns to matt and quickly says, “clean up the table, i’ll go help y/n out with her clothes.” 

matt hums in response and you follow jihyo, feeling embarassed from the small scene you’ve made. 

-- 

“i’m really sorry, and really, i could’ve cleaned up on my own—”  

“it’s fine y/n, don’t worry about it.” jihyo assures, leading you to the large master bedroom.  

there’s a king-sized bed in the middle, dimmed lights, and the room screams luxury. jihyo leads you over to the closet and grabs a small towel, then starts to pat down at your chest, making your cheeks burn.  

her hands find their way over to your shoulder to stabilize you, and then she’s shaking her head after trying to dry the spillage on your shirt. “this won’t do, let me get you a shirt. you can take off yours and leave it on the hanger over there.” she says, pointing to the hook. 

“t-thank you.” mentally, you facepalm yourself for sounding so nervous. 

“your cheeks are red,” jihyo giggles. she places her hand on your shoulder, then drags it down to your chest briefly before pulling away. “it’s alright honey, it happens. i’ll get you that shirt.” 

a few minutes later she enters the abnormally large closet again and hands you a gray sweatshirt with some college logo on it.  

“thank you jihyo, i’ll give this back to you when i—” 

“it’s fine, just keep it for pajamas or anything like that. it’s just some old shirt from when i graduated a while ago.” jihyo says. you pray that you look calm and collected, trying to mask your flustered-self with a smile. “i’ll let you change, just come out when you’re done sugar.” 

“yeah, thanks—and sorry.”  

jihyo shakes her head and waves off your apology with her hand. 

-- 

you’re back downstairs in a few minutes—minutes of jihyo (not so) subtly checking you out in her old clothes. 

matt asks if you’re okay, you answer with a nod and a smile. 

“my roommate keeps calling me, i should get going.” is muttered followed by an unnecessary peek into your tote bag, shuffling through to make sure you have everything. “thank you again for everything.” 

jihyo leads you to the door and sends matt up to get ready for school. she flattens out her own clothes, runs a hand through her hair, then watches you slip on your shoes from the front door. 

“you should stay for dinner more often y/n, i enjoyed it.” 

you chuckle awkwardly, then push a strand of hair back. “i enjoyed it too, though i’m sorry for spilling water everywhere.” 

“that’s quite alright, you could always make up for it by staying over. i like your company.”  

looking down at the ground, you smile bashfully and respond, “i’ll consider it. thank you again.”  

“drive safe pretty.” jihyo says, waving goodbye and shutting the door. 

- 

sarah sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches you closely.  

youre hugging your knees to your chest and smiling, making your roommate turn her head in confusion. “why’d you drag me to the couch.” 

“i need to tell you about today. about everything.” 

“make it quick, i have a lecture tomorrow morning for psych.” she sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the couch. 

“so i’ve been tutoring that kid you know, the high school kid.” you start, and sarah nods as she hums. “yeah so basically i tutor him that one day at his school or whatever, then, he asks me to tutor him at his house.” 

“so he… wants you?” 

“no, absolutely not. plus, that’s like, a case.” you say with a shake of your hand, dismissing hee assumption. “but, speaking of age differences, i went to his house — his aunts house — and i was tutoring him and whatnot. then i hear someone knock on the door and he says it’s his aunt, so im unfazed or whatever because it’s probably this middle aged lady or whatever.” 

“right, so…?” 

“so i was fucking wrong.” you explain, sitting up now. “the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on walks in. she’s dressed in work clothes or something, all black, and she looks good.”  

“oh, so you’re gay.” sarah scoffs amusingly, quirking a brow. “am i supposed to be… surprised?” 

“can you just shut the fuck up and listen to me fully for once, please.” 

sarah rolls her eyes. “fine.” 

“okay so she calls me hon, then she says my hands are sweet — and keep in mind, this is the first time i’ve talked to her in person. then she calls me sweetheart?” 

“she’s being nice i think, considering she’s probably older than you. maybe you’re just gay, delusional, and haven’t gotten laid since… months ago?” 

“just because you and your girlfriend do it every time i’m out does not mean you have to shove it down my throat.” you scoff, “anyways, yeah no i thought that too, but then her nephew — the kid in tutoring — he tells me that she’s more generous with me and asks about me. i don’t think that’s being nice.” 

“that might just be curiosity and being nice, y/n.” 

“no hear me out okay,” sarah giggles as she watches you talk all animatedly with your hands moving after every couple of words. “she invited me for dinner — literally wanted me to stay, like insisted — then said i was too pretty to not be taken? and then she was saying that if ‘there were a beauty like you around, i would’ve made a move.’” 

sarah’s eyes widen, then her mouth opens slightly in shock. she leans closer to you, now fully invested knowing that this isn’t just another stretch of your interactions with women.  

“holy shit?” 

“i know.” you say, feeling your cheeks flush just from thinking about it. “and then you called and i spilled water and whatnot, she brought me to her room and—“ 

“you guys fucked?” 

“no!” you immediately say, a little too loud for that matter. “no, no.” you reassure, “though, i’m going to be honest i kind of wish—but that’s besides the point. she helped me out and patted down my tits — well my shirt but who cares, same thing — and then gave me her old sweatshirt. im literally wearing it right now and i remember her checking me out as soon as i changed into them.” 

“oh my god?” 

“yeah, and then you called again for me to come back or whatever and she told me to stay for dinner more often. now i’m here and that’s the end of the story.” 

sarah simply stares at you with wide eyes, her hand covering her slightly opened mouth. you place your hands on your face snd grown, feeling the heat of your cheeks on the skin of your hand. 

“i cant believe someone’s aunt wants you.” 

“i know!”  

“are you going to… sleep with her?” sarah asks, tilting her head. 

you find yourself lost in thought, often drifting into a world where she consumes your every waking moment - both at work and during classes. in these vivid daydreams, your thoughts sometimes stray to a more innocent realm. you envision the possibility of going on a simple date with her, where you can unravel the layers of her personality and just get to know her on a deeper level. because jihyo’s the type of woman that you want to sit down and get to know, that’s for sure.  

but to be honest, most of the time your mind wanders to far more… provocative scenarios. your imagination conjures up images of her completely unveiled, with a tantalizing desire to feel her hands caressing your every contour, leaving you to completely submit to her; to be ruined by jihyo personally. these fantasies consume you, their allure impossible to resist.  

“well, i don’t know.” you answer, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i still have to tutor her nephew.” 

“hmm… then focus on that and then sleeping with his aunt.” sarah suggests, giggling lightly before her phone buzzes. she looks at the screen and sees a text from her girlfriend, then smiles immediately. “speaking of sleeping with people, my girlfriend is picking me up. i’ll be out for the night.” 

you groan, still wanting sarah to listen to you while losing your mind and leave her own comments here and there. it’s almost impossible to get her away from her girlfriend. you’re so jealous and sarah loves to poke at you for being single and insatiable. 

“you’re unbelievable.” 

sarah shrugs, getting up with a cheeky grin. she snickers, “and you need to get laid. good luck with your little milf situation.” 

“she’s not his mom!” 

“same difference.” 

— 

the next time you tutor matt, you never get to talk or see jihyo. matt explains that she’s out for the night, something related to a business trip that he seems to not really care about. 

but you care, and you need to know when she’s back. unfortunately, tutoring comes first and the last thing you want to do is make it obvious that you have a crush on the aunt of the kid you’re tutoring. 

(matt has a little hunch; he notices the stares the both of you give each other when you two think no one is looking. matt is looking and definitely suspicious of how nervous you get around her and how generous his aunt is to you. though, he doesn’t have time to dive deeper in that since another physics test is clouding his brain for the time being.) 

you run into jihyo the day after that session with matt, but not as his house.  

there’s a place near the campus that’s now you and your friends’ signature study and hangout spot. it’s this cozy café and restaurant that the five of you have spent countless hours at either conversing and laughing for hours or losing your mind over whatever classes you guys take. this time, you’re all getting brunch together and debating something small. 

you excuse yourself and get in line to grab a drink since you only purchased a panini, thinking that would satisfy you. you were wrong. so, you stand in line for a bit, not really minding your surroundings while you tap through various instagram stories and scroll mindlessly. a minute later, you feel a tap on your shoulder while you’re halfway through a video your friend had posted. when you turn around you’re met with the face that has you lost in a momentary trance.  

“ah y/n, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo says. 

“oh, jihyo.” you respond, trying to hide your surprise and sudden nervousness. “it’s nice to see you too.” 

oh for sure it’s nice to see her. sunglasses sit on the top of her head, loose strands fall over her face, and the dress she’s wearing under her long coat looks divine. your eyes scan her whole body for a short moment, and then you’re clearing your throat as she starts to speak again. 

“are you here alone?” she asks you, looking you up in down in the process. 

“oh i’m with friends actually, they’re over by the window—“ you point to the group of four laughing together, all invested in the conversation at hand as the afternoon light brightens their smiles. “—we were just getting together and eating brunch.” you explain. 

“i see…” jihyo mumbles, looking over to your friends. she sounds a bit dissapointed, but you could be wrong about that.  

“what are you doing here? i mean, i don’t mean that in a rude way it’s just—“ 

jihyo smiles again, putting her hand on your shoulder as she laughs. “oh honey,” one of many things she calls you that makes your breath go short, “it’s fine, i get what you mean.” she trails down to your bicep, her skin warm on yours. “i was going to grab a drink before work, this is one of my favorite cafes.” 

“what a coincidence, it’s one of mine too.” 

jihyo subtly acknowledges your presence, her gaze gracefully trailing along your figure, delicately fixating on the tantalizing hint of skin peeking through your attire. her probing eyes pause there momentarily, capturing every nuance of the tempting groove down your tummy, accentuated by your low-rise jeans and revealing crop top. the ensemble effortlessly enhances your allure, inducing an irresistible appeal that’s impossible to ignore. as her gaze eventually retreats, it effortlessly returns to meet your own.  

“i suppose we have lots in common.” jihyo notes. 

“yeah,” you breath out, “i guess so.” 

“next in line please!” one of the the cashiers yells out, snapping you out of your daze. you apologize to him and then smile at jihyo before walking over and shuffling for the wallet in your shoulder bag.  

after getting your pistachio latte, you walk back to your friends and they beam at you. setting your bag down, you listen in on the conversation. 

“—and so, as i was saying, he kept making me pay for everything on the first date.” mai scoffs, crossing her arms. she’s a friend from your intro to education, lively and always has something to say. this time, it seems to be quite interesting. “look, i am a 50-50 girl and whatnot, but he asked me out and expects me to pay? i felt like there was a whole beard on my face and my balls dropped or something after paying for him. yeah, never again.” 

you laugh loudly, covering your mouth upon hearing the entertaining story.  

again – similar to just a few minutes ago – there’s a tap on your shoulder. your friends look at the woman behind you before you can, and once you set your look on her; your heart starts to beat again, a blush settling on your cheeks. 

“hey pretty, i was about to leave for work.” jihyo says with a smile, “can we talk for a bit? alone.”  

to your left, another one of your friends raises his eyebrows subtly. just with that small gesture alone, he manages ask without speaking: who’s this woman and why is she calling you pretty? though, you can’t answer him just yet. there’s no way you’d embarrass yourself in front of jihyo. 

you clear your throat and stutter just barely in your response. “hey, hi. um, yeah, sure. excuse me guys, i um, need to talk with her.”  

after sending an apologetic smile and earning various cheeky smiles, you nod at jihyo and find a spot near the window to talk to her. alone. she brushes a strand of hair out of your face and leans back to sit upright in her seat; you try to stay calm 

“i just wanted to ask for a favor, i completely forgot about it until i got a notification from my calendar.” 

“oh, what is it?”  

she looks out the window and sips on her iced drink, then turns back to meet your eyes. “well, i have a work dinner thing, a lot of… men will be there for the most part. i was wondering if you’d accompany me? i’m afraid i’d grow tired of their dull efforts to impress me, but it’s completely fine if you can’t make it.” jihyo says, although her tone near the end suggests that she’d be pretty disappointed with an answer other than yes. “i know it’s a big ask, but i’ve grown quite fond of you. is that ridiculous?” 

quickly, you dismiss her by waving your hands a bit frantically and shaking your head. you assure her, “it’s not ridiculous at all!” unintentionally, the volume of your voice spikes. “i’m actually um, really flattered that you feel that way, seriously. it also wouldn’t be any trouble – the dinner thing – id, um, i would love to accompany you.” 

jihyo finds herself blushing, surprisingly. she sips on the drink before setting it down on the marble counter side, then places her elbows on the table and her eyes smile, then her nose scrunches a bit.  

“right, that’s wonderful.” she says, “come over to my place tomorrow at 5:30 then?” you gulp upon hearing her words – practically an order with that tone and raise of her brow – then nod. she smiles and places her hand on your shoulder again, this time terribly close to the crook of your neck, her thumb brushing against your throat. “good, see you then.” 

“yeah,” you respond, not wanting to leave yet; your friends are waiting for you and jihyo has to go to work, so you begin to stand. “i’ll see you… my friends um, they’re—” 

“oh, yes, sorry for dragging you away—” 

“no!” you shake your hands again, cringing at how loud your voice grew (again). “they’re fine with it and i don’t want you to be late for work. we weren’t doing anything important anyway, just catching up.” 

she giggles and stands up to face you, eyes angled up slightly since she’s an inch or two shorter. she takes her hand off her skin and it feels specifically frigid in that area now that the warmth radiating off her fingers isn’t there, you almost shiver. 

“right, thanks hon. i’ll see you tomorrow yeah? shoot me a text when you get there, you have my number.” 

you nod and she hands her work bag on her shoulder, then starts to walk away – but not before winking at you. you smile, feeling your heart do a flip. 

when you return to your table, your friends are already eyeing you mischievously. mai has her straw sitting on her teeth, giving you that look. your jaw tightens and you smile at them before awkwardly sitting back in the previously empty seat, mentally preparing yourself in those two silent seconds before they all start bombarding you with questions and relentless teasing. 

- 

you arrived at jihyo’s house ten minutes early, a little earlier than you’d expected since the traffic wasn’t as bad. you walk down the small path leading to the steps, then up those three steps and onto the doormat. before you can even knock, the door opens and matt nearly bumps into you. 

he apologizes immediately, then looks at you with scrunched brows. 

“were we supposed to tutor today?” he asks, scratching his head with a finger. “if we were, sorry but i’ve got plans.” he says, nudging his head forward, making you turn around to see a honda civic parked on the street across. the windows are rolled down, revealing another guy that looks around his age in the drivers seat, another in the passengers side that you can barely see, and two girls in the back.  

“oh, no. jihyo called me over actually, not for you.” 

matt raises his brows, then his body relaxes. “oh.” 

“yeah, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“no it’s… fine.” he assures, looking at you skeptically. “have fun with… my aunt? um, whatever you two are… doing. i’m staying at a friends house tonight so…” 

“yeah, have fun.” you respond awkwardly, looking up at him as he observes you for a few seconds longer. the makeup on your face is slightly heavier than usual – not that it’s a bad thing, in fact he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the nice dress you were wearing. quite odd, he figures, but it’s not his business. he shrugs his shoulders and forgets about it, waving at you before he leaves, running over to the black honda civic that’s playing music at a volume so loud that you can hear it from the door. 

you forget about the whole encounter for a moment, instead redirecting your attention to the opened door in front of you. stepping inside, you get a whiff of the familiar lavender scent that fills the house, then close the door behind you. the house is silent until you send jihyo a text, and she responds a few seconds later by yelling from upstairs. 

“y/n! come upstairs darling!”  

you freeze in place, suddenly feeling intimidated for no reason. nonetheless, you walk on over to the stairs, then up to jihyo’s room. 

as you enter the room, her image captivates your attention in the mirror. the black dress she has on a pulls you towards her, reciprocating the intense attraction you both feel. the attraction that’s most definitely there, but jihyo’s a tease and you’re cautious. she likes that she has you wrapped around her finger. it’s amusing how easily flustered you get around her. 

the sight of her is nothing short of exquisite, and your gaze fixates on the enticing curve of her hips, igniting a subtle pulse in between your legs hunger that has you subconsciously nibbling on your lip. glancing further upwards, you indulge in the sight of her exposed shoulders, showcased gracefully in the mirror's reflection. they exude a provoking attraction, tempting you to succumb to your countless daydreams. you want to explore the softness of her skin, want to leave indelible marks on her delicate collarbones. 

in the midst of your blatant stare, her eyes lock with yours through the mirror, catching you in the act of unabashedly admiring her. she laughs, then she turns around to face you, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. 

“like what you see?” she teases you, making your cheeks burn.  

you clear your throat and pretend to busy yourself by looking into your bag, but manage to respond politely, “i um—sorry. matt let me in, he just left.” 

she starts to step towards you, and you feel yourself gulp unintentionally.  

“mhm, he told me about the sleepover.” she says, then stands inches away from you. using her pointer and thumb, she tilts your chin up and away from the bag hung on your shoulder, intensely gazing at you for a moment before speaking again. “you look remarkable.” 

your breath hitches as you look at her, eyes drilling into yours while you try to stay calm. “t-thank you.” 

she eyes you for a while longer before nodding, then smiles at you like she didn’t just eye fuck you. 

“let’s get going, there’s good parking if we arrive early. less of a hassle for us.” 

all you can do is hum and follow her, afraid of embarrassing yourself from how flustered and inaudible you are. 

- 

the car ride consisted of you trying to not stare at her sharp, defined features the whole time. it was very difficult to not glance here and there, a few times you had your eyes glued on her godly cheekbones and sometimes you even eyed the way her bones would pop out when she turned the wheel.  

during the car ride, you found it increasingly challenging to avert your gaze from her captivating, exquisitely sculpted features. the temptation to steal a glimpse here and there proved irresistible, as her godly cheekbones held your attention.  

at times, you couldn't help but be captivated by the protrusion of her bones as she maneuvered the steering wheel. after eyeing it for too long, jihyo caught you in her peripheral and turned to face you – the light was red anyway – then smiled cheekily. she moved her hand towards your thigh, placing it dangerously close to the dampening area in between your legs. 

“you alright lovely? you seem a little tense.” jihyo asks, rubbing your thigh with her thumb just barely. “something on your mind?” 

you fought back a low whimper before you respond, “i’m fine, thanks.” you try, voice small as she adds more pressure to your skin. you try your best to remain calm and composed, but god it’s so hard when she’s touching you there and like that. “it’s not important, i was just daydreaming.” 

(your daydreaming will be increasingly explicit from now on.) 

the light turns green and jihyo puts her hand back on the wheel as she turns away from you, redirecting her attention on the road. your jaw tenses and you shift in the seat a little, thighs closing and rubbing together. 

jihyo pretends not to notice and fights back a smirk. 

-- 

the two of you would enter the restaurant together with jihyo linking your arms and smiling at you like she didn’t just make you ten times hornier than you already are daily. 

as you enter, you are immediately mesmerized by the extraordinary interior. the lighting casts an enchanting, almost mystical ambiance, wrapping the space in an intimate aura. the arrangement of tables is meticulously planned, each one positioned with precision and attention to detail. the sheer beauty of the place is breathtaking, leaving you in awe. it’s evident that reservations at this place come with a hefty price tag, most definitely surpassing the cost of more than half of your apartment's monthly rent; maybe almost as much as what you and sarah pay together.  

jihyo leans in closer to your ear, lips brushing against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine. “come lovely, let’s find our seats.” she says, then walks you over with her to the man with slicked back hair and an impossibly perfect posture. he gives you the table number and holds his arm out in the direction of it, then jihyo thanks him with that weirdly arousing voice she has and tugs on your arm lightly. 

there are other men that are scattered around the dining area, they all notice jihyo as soon as she steps in – who wouldn’t? 

she’s stone faced as she walks with you and towards the table, her stern expression unfazed by the stares from men that aren’t accompanied by their respective lovers. though, maybe those with their own lover took a small glimpse. 

you feel a little small, most eyes are on jihyo though a good amount also land on you. it seems that the two of you have taken the attention of the majority, which freaks you much as much as it flatters you. jihyo seems to notice the attention on you too, then subtly brings you closer to her.  

jihyo sits down first and flattens out her outfit before she fixes her hair, then pats down the seat next to her. you sit down and she brings your chair a little closer before leaning towards your ear and speaking again. 

“thank you for coming, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to the table this quickly if it weren’t for you.” 

you hum, then ask, “why is that?” 

“the men here are shameless, they hit on me dinner after dinner.” jihyo sighs, then lowers her voice when she says, “i guess they were too distracted by you. you’re a sight worth skipping dinner for.” 

you gulp, laughing off her suggestive compliment before boldly responding, “i think most would much rather… indulge in you. i get their standpoint, though.”  

as you begin to fix the delicate fabric of your dress, a subtle flicker of surprise dances within jihyo's widened eyes. with her grip on her handbag growing tighter, her gaze shifts towards you, a newfound intensity in her look. you turn to look right back in her eyes, almost challenging her with this new confidence of yours. it’s in this moment that the unspoken connection seems to deepen, the tension drawing you two closer. the allure she now feels towards you, layered with a hint of curiosity and urge to undress you, is palpable yet carefully restrained. 

three more men greet jihyo formally and she smiles forcefully at them before they take their seats and indulge in their own conversation. the menus are handed once everyone settles in and everyone glances at the options. the selection intimidates you; half the dishes incorporate foreign words that you had never heard of.  

jihyo places her hand on your thigh again, this time higher than before. she looks at you with those drilling brown eyes and squeezes a bit.  

“know what you’d like?” 

your breath shakes reluctantly, but you respond with a leveled tone. “yeah, the chicken chasseur.” there’s a ninety percent chance you butchered that pronunciation, half of the reason was because you never really paid attention in your french three class your junior year of high school, and the other half was because jihyo’s fingers started tracing patterns into the flesh of your thigh. 

“right, the chasseur,” she says teasingly, pronouncing it correctly. “that’s one of my favorites.” 

“i see, i’ll definitely like it then.” 

“mhm.”  

the waiter comes by – the same guy with the slicked back hair – he introduces himself in a deep, formal tone. it catches you off guard that his name is so simple: michael. he takes all of your orders, then collects each menu. as soon as he leaves, one of the men at the table attempt to strike up some small talk with jihyo, and she responds with blunt, uninterested answers. the men are left intimidated and out of luck, then try to succeed in initiating a meaningful conversation with you. 

“what was your name dear?” one says, his features implying that he’s not too far off from how old your parents are.  

hesitantly, you respond with a polite “y/n,” before smiling respectfully. he narrows his eyes and smirks before glancing down, it leaves you uneasy. jihyo clears her throat and sends daggers at him with her glare. 

“how are you and your wife, samuel?” she questions, quirking a brow before your waiter arrives with a bottle of white and red wine. the man who’d bee blatantly chekcing out your chest area grimaces, then fakes a smile. 

“we’re doing fine.” he says a little sternly, then halts his attempts at socializing with you. 

you send jihyo a thankful glance, she responds with a grin before swirling the white wine in her glass and giving a sip, then sips. 

“this is good, have some dear.” she says, urging you with a tilt of her head to try some of the identical wine in your own glass. “do you like wine?” 

“kind of, i mean, i never really indulge...” your response gives you a quick flashback of the various cheap selections of alcoholic drinks you’ve downed at house parties you’d attend here and there. you grab your glass and copy what jihyo does – you don’t really know how to sip on wine without it looking like you can’t even afford three sips – then raise your brows in surprise once you get a taste. it's sharp and fruity, much richer than the past drinks you’ve had. 

“good?” jihyo says amusingly, observing your expression. 

“it’s wonderful.” 

she grins at you, then gances around the table hastily. two of the men continue to glance over even as they talk withe ach other, it seems that you two just can’t escape the attention. the appetizers arrive a minute later and the two of you indulge, unable to create any small talk or anything like that with your company. jihyo decides she’s craving a different type of appetizer as soon as she sees you wipe your lip subtly. 

“come with me to the restroom, the main courses won’t be out for a little while.” jihyo insists, then looks around at the men busy with their bread, butter, and various other appetizers that sound too complicated for how they look. “besides, i'd rather be alone with you than surrounded by them for the time being.” 

once again, a tremor of anticipation seeps through you, your breath quivers with a mix of nerves and eagerness. jihyo just get’s bolder by the second. 

although it’s a simple trip to the restroom – a countless number of times you and your friends have scurried off to the comofrting ‘sanctuary’ of the girls’ room for meaningless conversations and minuscule touches of makeup – yet, with jihyo accompanying you now instead of your stupid best friends, your mind is propelled into an intricate labyrinth of scenarios, infused with explicit scenarios that jihyo stars in.  

- 

jihyo gracefully positions herself before the strangely exquisite mirror, which is not only unreasonably large and fancy, but it also manages to delicately enhance her plump lips after applying a fresh coat of lipstick. as she caresses her captivating pout, you become mesmerized by the subtle dance of her lips, gently gliding against each other like silk. she releases her pursed lips with a faint “pop” sound before she looks at you through the mirror. 

“daydreaming again?” jihyo asks. you shake your head and walk over to the sink next to her before fixing your hair for no apparent reason. a smirk tugs at her lip sbefore she turns so that her back is facing you. “zip up my dress for me? seems to have gone loose.” 

without a word, you move your hands over to deftly maneurver the zipper along the length of her dress. the entire tableau unfolds so quickly, though there’s an unexpected intamacy that lingers in the air, seeming slightly out of place but it’s also undeniably enticing. your hold your breath unknowingly. 

“you know y/n,” jihyo starts, your hands still on the zipper. “you’re so easy to rile up, it’s cute.” 

“what?” you respond with disbelief, pretending that her statement isn’t the turth. she turns around and tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she draws her attention down to your lips – now parted – then brings a thumb to graze the bottom lip. 

“c’mon baby, think i didn’t notice how you were in the car?” she chuckles, now moving her fingers down to your chin and moving and pushing down on your chin to tilt your head down just barely. “staring at my chest and all of me so clearly in my own house... darling, do you think i’m a fool?” 

you gulp, her eyes peering into yours and waiting for an answer. you’re absolutely dumbfounded, cheeks burning violently. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to--” 

“oh honey, i'm not against it.” she assures, smiling at you and bringer her hand down to play with the dainty necklace around you rneck. “if anything, i want you just as much as you seem to crave me.” 

“i--” 

she cuts you off, pressing a chaste peck to your lips. when she pulls away, you subconciously lean forward to catch her lips again, whining lowly. jihyo giggles softly before putting her thumb against your lips, adding pressure to halt your eagerness. 

“gosh, you’re adorable.” jihyo says, “i could just ruin your pretty little self right here.” 

“jihyo, please” 

she laughs, pleased, raising her brows and smirking at this new, desperate y/n she’s brought to the surface.  

“tell me how much you want me and i'll let you have more, can you do that?” 

your cheeks are on fire and so are your ears. jihyo pulls away further so she can fully see your face, stroking her knuckles down the curve of your cheek. you swallow shallowly before opening your mouth to speak, but hesitate.  

“c’mon baby, use your words for me. you can do that, can’t you?” 

“yes, yeah,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice stable. jihyo smiles, then presses a haste kiss to your jaw. your breath out shakily, bringing a hand to jihyo’s forearm.  

this has to be a dream, there’s no way matt’s aunt is this close to you – and like this. jihyo's pressing kisses down your jawline and neck, nibbling softly and eliciting sharp breaths. everything feels unreal, it’s so unexpected and you don’t know what to do while she brings a knee in between your legs. 

“i’m going to stop if you don’t tell me what you want pretty girl.” 

you sigh, almost moaning at the way her voice bounces off your skin.  

“someone’s going to walk in...” you mumble, placing your hand on her waist. 

“isn’t that part of the thrill?” jihyo asks, “tell me what you want.” 

“kiss me, please jihyo.” 

“that all?” 

of course it’s not all, you want to be pushed to the point of tears and incoherent sobs – but not here, not now. you can only groan at the untimely situation, wanting jihyo to take your time with you someplace less unorthodox. 

“when we go back... i want you to... do more.” you mumble shyly, watching jihyo move away from your neck so that she’s inches away from your face. her lips curl up into a mischievous smile as she twirls your hair. 

“i’ll take it easy on you for now,” jihyo chuckles, “come here.” 

without hesitation you lean forward, messily and eagerly meeting jihyo’s lips again. the two of you get used to everything and ease into each other’s contact, jihyo leading the way. she tugs on your bottom lip gently and you gasp, which gives her the chance to slide her tongue in and explore your mouth. 

you’ve madeout with girls countless times, but it’s always been messy, rushed, and the only thing you could taste and smell was cheap aochol. your past experiences have been nothing like what’s happening right now. 

you can taste the hints of fruit and slight vanilla in that expensive white wine from earlier, it’s even better when you get to taste it off of jihyo. she tastes divine. she’s so precise and skilled with her tongue and lips, immediately adjusting to the pace of the moment and ultimately leaving your knees weak. jihyo's fucking skilled, she knows what she’s doing and everything feels so goddamn euphoric. 

she pushes you against the marble of the sink area and you moan into her mouth when she squeezes your ass, making her smirk against your lips cheekily. you’re like a puppet in her control, and she knows just the right movements and subtle touches to get you going. 

jihyo pulls away suddenly and you whine, trying to pull her back. she holds you in place firmly, lingering near your lips and chuckling against them.  

“why-- why did you stop?” you ask desperately, pathetically pinching the fabric of her dress tighter.  

“pretty girl, you’ve forgotten where we are haven’t you? the main course might be out.” 

“but jihyo--” 

“listen,” she says sternly, sending a shiver down your spine. a soft smile is displayed, which soothes your nerves after witnessing it. jihyo tucks your hair behind her ear. “let’s make a deal, how about that?” 

“okay,” 

“if you can...” she starts, twirling the hair on the nape of your neck. “...be good for me and stay patient, then i'll reward you when we get back to the house. can you be good for me pretty?” 

a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to respond. you try your best to do so anyway. 

“mhm, i can.” 

“good. i'd love to ruin you right here, don’t get me wrong, but there’s other guests that expect me to be present.” 

fuck those other guests, you need to take her right here and right now. she can’t just rile you up like this, give you the best makeout session of your life and then end it so abruptly. regardless, she possesses an innate power - she's jihyo. you're completely enthralled and under her control anyway, whether you know it or not. 

she lets out a cold, menacing chuckle and flashes you a provocative grin. she delicately reshapes your disheveled hair and then tends to her own cascade flowing down. you can feel the lingering presnce of her own lips on yours -- slightly swollen and vividly tinted -- and although jihyo remains unfazed by the evidence of her artistry, it's clear she revels in your visible discomposure. if others were to connect the dots, she couldn't care less; if anything, she welcomes it. she's evil, and all you want is more of her. 

so you’ll have to behave for the time being, because who knows what she’s capable of. 

- 

“ah, you’re back park. the food got here ten minutes ago.” samuel says, raising a brow in suspicion.  

the men’s plates are already half eaten, and then there’s two plates that are left untouched on the table. jihyo eyes you, raising her brow before elegantly reaching for her utensils. 

she clears her throat and lies, “lady troubles.” which earns a flush on each of the men’s faces, and a brief apology from samuel. 

the remainder of the dinner becomes utterly unbearable. it’s not just the men engaging in dumb, uninteresting conversations -- which require you to perform an artificial smile, direct focus, and provide meaningless responses - but underneath the table, jihyo teases you. her delicate hand grazes your thigh intermittently. the whole thing is excruciating, causing an overwhelming surge of sexual frustration that genuinely throbs between your legs. the only thing you crave right now is her touch again; you don’t know how many more times you can utter “oh how interesting,” before exploding completely. 

an hour passes and it’s finally time for jihyo to bid her farewells, finally. 

the farewells’ had to take at least ten minutes, since jihyo’s pretty high up there in whatever she does. you never really knew, but it wasn’t your place to ask. 

jihyo unlocks her black porsche, which is remarkably eye-catching, though not as much as the driver. you get in the passenger's side and she’s already inside turning the engine on, one hand on the stick. she backs up smoothly, then gets out of the parking lot quickly. 

the car ride is almost silent for three-quarters, the only thing that pokes at the tension is jihyo’s hand on your thigh. she's driving one handed, it’s a common skill – you drive one handed here and there – but when jihyo does it, your thighs try to ease whatever is going on in between. 

“did you enjoy the meal?” jihyo asks, eyes on the road. 

“yeah, it was great.” 

“mhm,” she hums, then squeezes your flesh a bit. “how was the dessert? did it suit your tastes?” 

you let out a shallow breath, “yeah.” 

“good.” jihyo says, then smiles to herself. “we’re almost home.” 

you can only hum in response, growing impatient. 

jihyo clicks a button and the garage door opens, then drives in slowly. she has to be doing this on purpose, just to test you. you’re going to endure the aching, because at the end of the rainbow there’s always gold, and you’re her good girl. 

when you enter the house, it’s completely dark, then jihyo turns on the light and you have to fight the urge to kiss her again. 

“come,” she orders, turning to walk towards the stairs to the second floor. she's swaying her hips a little on purpose, she must be – or you’re just horny, or both. 

finally, after what seemed like centuries, you make it to her room. she closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

“sit down on the bed for me.” you do as you’re told wihtout hesitation, sitting down on the soft mattress of the king sized bed. the sheets are perfectly set on the bed, so are the blankets and pillows, but something tells you that it won’t be like that by the end of this night. “good girl.” 

she glides towards you, delicately raising your chin and fixing her gaze upon you, like an artist admiring a masterpiece. she revels in the sight of your flushed cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, and the slight up turn of your brows, all traits that make this vulnerable rendition of you enticingly irresistible. her eyes grow dark, consumed by a yearning that she has now ardently realized; this is what she’s been wanting ever since she first laid eyes on you. 

“clothes off for me sweetheart.” immediately, you start to slip yourself out of the dress. jihyo decides to be generous, helping you out a bit since she’s quite eager herself.  

now, you find yourself perched delicately on the edge of her bed, goosebumps on your skin even as warmth envelops you. you’re nearly exposed, clad only in delicate undergarments that hold jihyo's gaze captive. a sigh escapes her lips, swiftly followed by a mischievous smirk, a telltale sign of her satisfaction.  

jihyo's going to have the meal of her life, nothing she had for dinner that night would ever compare to you. she hasn’t even gotten a taste of your arousal yet, but she already knows. 

“you’re beautiful,” she mutters before closing the distance, kissing you on the lips. you sink into all of it: the hand on your cheek, the knee shifting in between your legs, and simply her touch.  

she maneuvers your body onto the bed, positioning herself on top, ensnaring your legs with her own. with an air of urgency, she kisses you harshly, whisking away the very essence of oxygen from your lungs. she pulls away to see you all hot and heavy, watching the desperate rise and fall of your chest while your eyes meet hers in a gaze brimming with insatiable lust.  

“up,” she mutters, to which to respond by propping yourself on your elbows. she skillfully works away at the clasp of your bra, unclipping it and throwing the garment some place off the bed. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know?” jihyo says before fastening her lips on your neck, sucking violently. 

as your voice becomes stifled, attempting to form words proves worthless under jihyo's intimate touch. she delicately explores your body, her lips grazing your neck, causing shivers to cascade down your spine. the symphony of your helpless moans resonates wonderfully, she just wants every ounce of pleasure you can offer, greedy for all of you. 

“f-fuck, oh my god...” you groan helplessly, squirming under jihyo as her mouth starts to tend to your tits. your hand lands in her hair, gripping tightly as her tongue swirls around your perked up bud. her tongue was great in your mouht, but holy shit it’s ten times better when pushing you near your climax. she hasn’t even touched the ache in between in your legs and you feel like you could cum right then and there. 

jihyo gets up and looks down on you like a predator would with its prey, eyeing your vulnerable, exposed body that she’s ravenous for. there are marks along your neck and chest, jihyo’s artwork looking better than anything a museum could hold. 

she still has her dress on, though it swiftly finds the floor in a few moments. your gaze becomes fixed upon her, witnessing a new prize the further the dress drops down. in the wake of this unveiling, she stands before you, clad only in undergarments—pricey, hot looking ones. your eyes fixate upon her chest and the sight of her tits leaves you wide eyed. the alluring contours of her abdomen draw your attention next, effortlessly accentuating her absolutely unreal, fit body. she leans back slightly and her ass catches your attention, rendering you speechless. everything about her is divine and you find yourself completely engulfed in desire.  

all of this is so unreal and you figure it has to be one of those dreams that gets cut off by the alarm for your morning classes; but no, this is real, it’s especially real as jihyo slides her hand down from the top of your chest to just above your waist. her fingers tease the fabric covering your cunt, tantalizingly grazing it. 

“want me inside baby?” jihyo asks, subtly sticking her fingers under the edges of the fabric. you nod desperately, which makes jihyo laugh. “gosh you’re so wet honey, need me that badly?” she teases, and you can only respond with a weak hum. 

she slides off your panties quickly, you whimper pathetically in response as her skin encounters wetness. 

her fingers glide slowly along your folds, easily moving up and down with how aroused you are. she brings her fingers back to her lips, getting a faint taste as your back subconciously arches against the mattress.  

“want me inside?” 

“please.” 

“beg harder.” jihyo chuckles, moving her fingers back to your pussy and teasing you carelessly as she lightly slides up and down the damp folds.“i won’t let you get it that easy. if you want something i want to hear you say it, sugar.” 

you whine, breathing out through your parted lips.  

“please, i need your fingers inside jihyo,” you sigh, voice all nasally and airy. “i want you to fuck me how you want, just make me cum please, you can have your way with me i don’t care. fuck, i'm all yours.” 

“perfect.” she says, then harshly pushes two fingers into your dripping cunt. your head shoots back into the pillow it’s on and your fingers grip the sheets tightly, the curse you cry out practically echoes throughout the room.  

she pounds into you with those slender fingers, maneuvering skillfully inside and out, curving at the right spots and leaving you breathless. tears form at the corners of your eyes, her other hand holds you down, pushing down on the middle of your torso to keep you from squirming so much. 

the amount of pressure she adds to your clit occasionally renders you weak, you’re a moaning, squirming hot mess and jihyo has never been this turned on in years. 

an indescribable sound escapes your lips, a melodic symphony of affirmation and inclination. jihyo's fingers plunge in and out, in and out – delving deeper into the depths of your core with each intoxicating thrust. she retreats momentarily before venturing even further, introducing a third digit into the hypnotic rhythm.  

i'm fucked. 

there was this sensation of being utterly reinvigorated, inside and out, in the most euphoric way that only your moans could describe. you've never been fucked this good, seriously, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this turned on and goddamn submissive. it's insane how quick and easy jihyo managed to do it. 

the knot in your stomach seems tighter and you’re about to find out just how goddamn well it feels to come undone because of park fucking jihyo. matt's aunt. 

“f-fuck i'm, hnnh i'm so close--” you whimper, voice dying down in your throat, “p-please,”  

“god you’re so beautiful,” jihyo says right before hitting your clit with her palm as she pushes into you. then, with a stronger arch and near sob, you tighten around her fingers and grip the sheets tightly, clinging on for dear life as you reach your high.  

jihyo pulls her fingers out and massages your clit lightly, still stimulating you as you recover. your legs are shaking, still, and your ribs are exposed as you lay there and breathe heavily.  

“be a good girl for me, y/n, you can do that. you will.” jihyo says before slamming into you again with three digits, making you gasp from surprise and pleasure. you've barely had time to recover, and yet jihyo is torturing you yet again. 

it feels like your pussy is being torn to shreds, you can hear the “squelch” and clap with every point of contact. 

you try to say something – exactly what, jihyo doesn’t know or minds because she’s too infatueted with every jolt and twitch of your body – and then you let out another loud cry that sounds something like “fuck,” before your body goes limp, twitching every now and then.  

she pulls her hand out – dampened with your clear arousal – and gets a taste of her middle and pointer finger. she drags her fingertips up along your torso -- sending a shiver down your spine – then brings her damp fingers to your mouth. 

“open.” 

without hesitation, you comply, tasting your own arousal off her skin by swirling your tongue messily. your eyes lock with hers before you suck, going down to the base of where her fingers connect and sliding up until you get all of your arousal off. 

“good girl.” 

she slides down your body, now she’s facing your cunt directly. you shiver in anticipation, a little scared but for the most part turned on one hundred times more than ever. she presses a sweet kiss to your pussy – quite different from how ruthless she was earlier – before she indulges, making you press the back of your hand against your forehead. 

god her tongue, it’s like it’s made to leave girls like you fighting for air. she holds your thighs, pressing her fingers into your flesh as she absolutely devours you. it's not too long before you feel that same knot in your stomach, and this time to leave you screaming she simply flattens her tongue against your sensitivity and sucks on your clit harshly. 

there's tears on your cheeks now, and more start to trail down as jihyo starts to fuck you dumb again. whatever is leaving your mouth is incoherent, practically gibberish as you squirm around. she forcefully spreads your thighs apart – which says a lot about her stretngth considering how you’re getting fucked into oblivion – keeping oyu in place even as you start to turn your body and roll onto your side desperately.  

“you taste so, mmh, good.” jihyo mumbles, “fuck, this is better than the dessert we had.” 

you can barely comprehend what she’s saying because your minds so goddamn foggy and you’re literally sobbing from how overwhelming everything is. but it feels so good, if she stopped you’d be crying for a different reason rather than pleasure. 

jihyo feels your thighs shake beside her head, then feels a hand on her head gripping her hair tightly and pushing down against your cunt before the trembling stops. the cry you let out stops before it leaves your mouth, so you cum with an airy, choked out sob.  

jihyo's gaze fixates upon your pulsing, swollen cunt – dripping with your sweet arousal. she rises to her knees, gracefully straddling you, drawing her attention to the rise and fall of your chest. your disheveled hair frames your features, adorned with a rosy flush and the remnants of tears. a soft smile dances upon her lips, a testament to the mess she’s made. 

jihyo falls down to your tummy, scattering feathery kisses. she ascends to your chest, your neck, and at last, your lips. you kiss her sloppily, weakly reaching to cup her cheek while she traps your top lip between both of hers. she pulls away and fixes up your hair, then rubs her thumb along your tear stained skin. 

“you did so good for me baby,” she assures, watching you sniffle. “are you alright?” 

“yeah.” you mumble weakly, smiling softly at her. “i just, need to relax.” you chuckle softly before jihyo pecks your lips again. 

“i’ll help you clean up, stay here pretty.” jihyo says, rubbing your rib with her thumb softly. 

-- 

the two of you wake up an hour before lunch the next morning. jihyo rubs your thigh with her hand, massaging it to reduce the soreness. she insists that you two get up since matt is coming over in a few hours and it takes a while for you to get down the stairs without falling – jihyo did a great job, your legs are wobbly and aching– but nonetheless you make it downstairs to the kitchen. 

jihyo lets you set your head on your cross arms over the counter since you’re so drowsy, she laughs and presses a kiss before fetching ingredients for lunch. you watch her with tired eyes; her muscles flex and tense as she assembles the ingredients for the sandwiches, leaving you stupidly mesmerized. 

you get up and stretch your arms out, then walk over to the older woman. a short giggle leaves your lips as you wrap your hands around jihyo’s waist, she laughs wholeheartedly. 

“did you need something?” 

you kiss her head and linger before responding, “no, you just looked good from the back.” 

“i have to cook lunch, matt is coming home in an hour.” jihyo says, turning to face you, lips inches away from yours.  

as you carefully adjust the stovetop temperature to a low, your gaze lands on jihyo, prompting a mischievous smile to play upon your lips. your hands rest on her waist, you turn her body to face you, drawing her nearer with a subtle bite of your lip. jihyo rolls her eyes, a familiar exchange between you both, before your lips meet, you smile into it as you always do. 

jihyo guides you towards the kitchen island, never relenting on the heat of her kisses. an involuntary groan escapes your lips as she playfully bites your lower lip, igniting subtle throbbing sensations in you. her lips, feather-light, wander along your jawline, slowly tracing the curves of your face like a breeze meeting petals of a flower.  

mindful of your pleasure, you tilt your head back, granting her unrestricted access. her tongue traces your sensitive skin, a captivating and sensuous touch that sends shivers down your spine. jihyo has this power of leaving you breathless in seconds. in the moments between kisses, delightful giggles escape jihyo's lips. 

“you’re such a--” another kiss to your jaw, “--tease.” jihyo says unbelievably.  

“and you’re the one who’s ah- enjoying this.” 

jihyo squeezes your ass gently before kissing your lips again, backing you into the marble of the counter and placing her hands on the edge as she smiles into you. 

lost in pleasure and eagerness, the two of oyu fail to hear the sound of the door being unlocked, opened, and then closed. jihyo's hand slides just barely under your shirt, tickling your ribcage with the brush of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer, turning your head a little more to get a better taste, to get more of jihyo. 

“um, y/n?” a voice interrupts the two of you, and it’s too familiar.  

it unfolds like a movie scene; you and jihyo turn to find matt standing there, gripping a backpack strap tightly, his visage a mix of appalled and perplexed. in a rush of apprehension, both of you instinctively release each other, striving to create as much distance as possible while smoothing down stray strands of hair and meticulously adjusting wrinkled garments. 

“matt,” jihyo says, trying to recompose herself—but the blush on her cheeks doesn’t die down whatsoever. “you’re home early. i thought you were coming back at 1?” 

“yeah...” he says awkwardly, embarassed and flushed as he tries to avoid any eye contact. “i was just going to say hi and um, work on homework.” 

“alright, i was just making dinner with--” jihyo clears her throat, “y/n.” 

matt looks between the two of you, narrowing his eyes and sighing.  

“how long have you two been... doing this?” 

you and jihyo exchange a look before you decide to speak up this time, “let’s all sit down at the table and talk about this, how about that?” 

now, you’re trying to form the words to explain that you’ve fucked some kid's aunt the night before, and jihyo’s trying to do properly conjure up a sentence that explains the marks on your neck. 

[obsessedwithceleste]

Flowers

soft! Mattheo Riddle x reader

Summary: You just wanted your boyfriend to buy you flowers. He got a bit confused along the way.

word count: 1.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You’d never been the type of girl who particularly enjoyed flashy, grand gestures. In fact, the mere thought of all eyes on you as a boy professed his undying love for you made you want to toss yourself off of the astronomy tower. And yet, here you were, watching as Lorenzo Berkshire presented your best friend, Daphne Greengrass, with yet another huge bouquet of gorgeous flowers and wishing your own boyfriend would do the same.

You let out a soft sigh, glancing at your boyfriend whose arm was wrapped securely around your shoulders as the two of you lounged on the sofa in the library. Matteo wasn’t a bad boyfriend by any means. Really, you loved the way he showered you in attention, always eager to please. However, he wasn’t exactly up to speed when it came to romantic gestures. Normally you didn’t mind, but every girl wanted to be treated like a princess sometimes you supposed.

“Oh Enz, these are beautiful!” Daphne gushed, giving her boyfriend a peck on the lips as he smiled adoringly down at her.

“Anything for you love,” the boy replies easily, taking the seat next to her, and pulling her in so that she was leaning into him.

“Geez, get a bloody room would you?” Theodore complains as the two cozy up together.

You roll your eyes at your friend. “Shut it Theo, I think it’s sweet.” You then turn to your own boyfriend. “You know Matteo, Enz gets Daphne flowers every week. I wish you did that.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives you a confused look.

“Really?” He asks.

You nod earnestly. “I think it’d be nice.”

Matteo gives you another concerned glance before shrugging his shoulders.

“Alright, love.” He says, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

You smile warmly at the boy, resting your head on his shoulder before continuing your reading for ancient runes.

“I’m proud of you for finally sticking up for yourself, y/n.” Daphne says, placing her bag down as she takes a seat next to you in the Great Hall.

“Oh? What chapter did we miss?” Pansy asks from across the table where she and Astoria sat.

You furrow your eyebrows, also confused as to where Daph was going with this.

“In the library this afternoon, y/n finally got on Matt’s case about how he never does anything romantic for her. I mean, you’ve been together for what? Almost a year? And I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring you flowers. Not once!” Daphne says, filling her plate.

“Oh. I mean, I really don’t mind all that much to be honest. You and Enzo just always look so sweet, I thought it’d be nice for a change. I don’t really expect him to do it every week like Enzo does,” you reply.

“See, but it’s the principle of it all isn’t it? Of course I like the fact that Draco is constantly buying me random gifts, but I would be fine without them. It’s that he’s thinking of me, and taking a bit of time to go out of his way to show me that, yeah?” Astoria says.

You tilt your head, considering your friend’s words.

“I suppose I never thought of it like that,” you tell her.

“Well you should. The bloody bullshit we put up with dating those boys, buying us nice things is really the least they can do,” she replies.

You let out a snort, laughing at your friend’s candidness.

As if to illustrate her point, the rowdy laughter of the boys could be heard from the entrance as they made their way over to your table. You frown as Matteo takes his usual place beside you, seeing a fresh cut on his cheekbone.

“Matteo Bartholomew Riddle.” You sigh, reaching up to touch his face.

“Bartholomew? Bloody hell mate, I’d have to avada myself with a middle name like that,” Draco laughs, plopping down next to Astoria.

He doesn’t even flinch as your finger tips make contact with the cut, only sighing as he glares at Draco before looking down at you with his large puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck off Lucius. And you know that isn’t even my middle name, love,” he says, reaching across the table to steal a roll from Theo’s plate.

“Well you won’t tell me your real one, so I’ll continue making up ridiculous ones until then. Now what on earth did you get up to now, and how many days of detention did you get?”

Matteo frowns, jutting out his bottom lip at you.

“What makes you so sure I got a detention?”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow at the boy.

“Three days. With McGonagall.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head and turn back to face Astoria whose face practically read ‘you see what I mean?’

“Man got into a scuffle with some Hufflepuff. Swear those yellow bastards look unassuming but they’re demons,” Theo says filling you and the other girls in.

Matteo glares at his friend.

“Snitch,” he mumbles, stuffing the roll into his mouth.

“Like she wasn’t going to find out anyway,” Theo replies, brushing him off.

Once again rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you focus on finishing your meal, listening to the idle chatter of your friends as Matteo’s hand finds yours under the table.

By the following week, you had all but forgotten your request for your boyfriend to bring you flowers. When you saw Matteo enter the Great Hall with a large bouquet of assorted flowers however, a smile grew across your face. Then, your smile wavered slightly, growing into confusion as Matteo made his way to the other side of the table, tapping Daphne on the shoulder.

Daphne and Enzo look back at Matteo with utter confusion as your boyfriend thrusts the flowers towards your friend.

“Uh. Here.” He says awkwardly as the two stare up at him with bewilderment.

You blink once. Then twice before Daphne breaks the silence.

“Matteo, respectfully, what the fuck?” She asks.

“Look, I don’t know either. I’m just as confused as you are,” Matteo says, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

You look incredulously between your boyfriend, the flowers, and finally Daphne before realization hits you and your head drops into your hand. This bloody idiot.

“Matteo. Love. When I said, Enzo brings Daphne flowers every week, you should too, I meant for me. As in, you should bring your girlfriend flowers too,” you say with exasperation. Lord help you.

Matteo’s mouth forms an ‘o’ before he smiles sheepishly at you, rounding the table and now thrusting the flowers towards you.

“For you, my lady,” he says proudly.

You let out a laugh, accepting the flowers as your boyfriend takes his seat next to you.

“Matt you are so lucky y/n puts up with your shit,” Daphne sighs, shaking her head fondly at the two of you.

“But also, ever try giving my girl flowers again and I’ll curse your bed. I know where you sleep.” Enzo adds.

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t scared of you Berkshire you big softie.”

“I’ll Avada you.”

“I’d write you letters in Azkaban.” Daphne says sweetly as the boys continue to throw threats each other’s way.

You shake your head at your friend’s antics, smiling softly as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the flowers your boyfriend had finally presented you with.

“Thank you Matteo,” you say, briefly interrupting the boy’s loud chattering to place a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek.

I know this is so short, but I’ve been wanting to write this scene for the longest time, and couldn’t find a way to fit it into a longer fic 🫠

[thehauntedetheral]

Yan Neighbour (Dark) °

Yandere 's life was lonely, dark and meaningless. He worked everyday, earned good, had meaningless sex with girls whose name he didn't remember in the morning. He felt his life didn't have any purpose. Just breathing, existing.

But one day his eyes met yours and he knew you belong to him. You are the sole reason why he was put here on earth. To protect you, provide, cherish you. You are the universe. You are the beginning, ending, middle, everything.

He can't believe an beautiful, ethereal, kind angel like you exist.

He made his mind he has to have you, protect your angelic soul from all the evil in this world.

Suddenly out of nowhere your neighbour moved out and now yandere moved into your neighborhood where you live.

You invited him for dinner as a welcome in neighbourhood. Weeks pass by and you two became good friends. You both having meals, binge watching shows movies together at each others house.

Everytime he comes over he take something that belongs to you. Your panties, tshirt, hair band, hair clip, your broken nail anything. He has a room in his house full of your belongings. This man is madly obsessed with you.

Through his windows he would watch you day and night what you are doing.

He even bought a cat breed which you loved just because you would come in your free time to play with it. The more he sees you the better.

He would plant all your favourite flowers in his garden and whenever he came over brought them for you.

Is excellent in baking but pretends he doesn't know a single thing about it and wants to learn from you as you love baking.

Comes over to ask for sugar or salt anything just to see you even though he have it.

While stalking you through windows one night you brought a one night stand over at your house and next day his dead body is all over the news channel telling people how brutally he was tortured and killed. How dare someone touches what belongs to him???

You get scared and cry while watching the news while yan holds you and comforts you.

"What would I have done without you?" You mumble while crying in his arms not knowing he is the reason for all of it.

"Don't worry y/n I am here for you" yan says while burying your small body more closer to his chest and having a sinister smile thinking only if you knew.

After all his angel only belongs to him. You are the light of his life. You are everything.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[raekensluver]

jealousy's game

description: plotting to make your ex jealous at a party, you pick the last person anyone could expect. theodore nott.

pairing: theodore nott x slytherin!fem!reader

contains: partying, drinking, mentions of smoking, mention of past relationship, jealous ex, kissing, cocky theo!

song rec: MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT by elley duhé- "just call my name, i'm yours to tame"

w.c: 1.5k

an: saw the above pic of lorenzo on pinterest and i knew i had to write something about him at a party.

the slytherin common room was a whirlwind of shadows and light, the flickering candles casting an eerie glow across the sea of faces, all twisted in various expressions of amusement and mischief. the air had the scent of alcohol and smoke, a potent cocktail that seemed to fuel the already boisterous spirits of the partygoers. the music thumped through the ancient stones, a bass line that seemed to resonate in the very marrow of the castle.

you wove through the crowd, your eyes scanning the room for any sign of trouble. as the leader of your own little slytherin clique, it was your duty to keep an eye on things and ensure that your gathering didn't devolve into chaos. but tonight, your attention was snagged by something far more personal. in the corner, your ex, a boy whose name you refused to let yourself remember, had his hands all over a giggling girl, their lips locked in a display that was no doubt for your benefit. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smug grin playing across his features. he knew you were watching, and he reveled in it.

you felt a spark of anger, a flare of indignation, but you weren't about to let him win. not here, not now. you had moved on, grown stronger, and you wouldn't let his pettiness tarnish your night. your gaze slid over to theo nott, the charming rogue with a silver tongue and a penchant for drama. he was surrounded by a flock of eager girls, his laughter a siren song in the smoky air. you approached him with purpose, tapped him on the shoulder, and leaned in close. "theo," you whispered, your voice low and sultry, "i need a favor."

his eyes glinted with mischief as he turned to face you, the champagne bottle in his hand paused mid-pour. "oh?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow. "and what might that be?"

you nodded in the direction of your ex, the corners of your mouth curling into a smirk. "i want to show him i'm not bothered. make it convincing."

theo's eyes followed your gaze, and he took in the sight of the boy with a knowing look. he set the champagne bottle down, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "alright," he murmured, "let's give him a show he won't forget."

his arms slipped around your waist, pulling you into him with a confidence that sent a thrill down your spine. your ex's eyes widened, his smug smile faltering for a moment before it transformed into a scowl. you felt a twinge of satisfaction, but you didn't let it show on your face. instead, you tilted your head back, laughing at something theo whispered, playing the part of the enamored girlfriend to perfection.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was the perfect blend of passion and playfulness. theo's touch was light, teasing, as if he was daring you to break the act first. your heart raced, not from the kiss itself, but from the challenge of keeping up the charade. you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss slightly, your eyes never leaving your ex's.

his hands tightened around your waist, and you felt his body tense, the heat of his anger palpable. theo, ever the showman, didn't miss a beat, his eyes fluttering closed as he kissed you more fervently. the crowd around you cheered, the sound of their applause and whistles blending with the throb of the music. it was a heady sensation, one that made you feel alive and in control.

you pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in your eye. "is that convincing enough?" you asked theo, your voice barely audible over the din.

he grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "oh, i think we've got his attention," he said, nodding towards your ex, who was now red-faced and glaring at the two of you. "but why stop there?"

you couldn't help but laugh, the sound a little too genuine for the situation. theo's arms remained around you, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. "fine," you said, playing along. "let's really make him squirm."

theo took your hand and led you to the makeshift dance floor, where bodies moved in a rhythmic frenzy. the music swelled around you, the beat matching the pulse of your heart. you danced with him, your movements calculated and sensual, every step and sway a silent message to your ex. theo's hands were sure and firm, guiding you with an ease that was surprisingly comforting. your ex's gaze was a fire that burned into you, but you didn't let it get the best of you. instead, you leaned into theo, letting your bodies meld together in a dance that was more of a performance than anything else.

his hands roamed your back, his touch a whisper against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. you matched his every move, your hips swaying in sync with his. the other dancers parted around you, creating a bubble of space, as if the two of you were the only ones in the room. the music grew louder, the lights dimmer, and the world outside the party faded away. for a moment, it was just you and theo, locked in a dance of spite and rivalry.

but as the minutes ticked by, something began to shift. the anger that had fueled your actions started to give way to a different kind of heat, one that had nothing to do with spite and everything to do with the chemistry that had always crackled between you two. theo's eyes searched yours, the playfulness replaced with something more intense. the kiss had been a ruse, but the dance had become something real.

his hands slid down to the small of your back, pressing you closer, and you felt your breath hitch. your ex was forgotten, lost in the haze of theo's embrace. your movements grew more natural, less forced, your bodies moving together as if they had always been meant to. the music was a siren's call, and you were lost in its seductive rhythm.

his fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer still. theo's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw something there that made your heart race: desire, raw and unfiltered. it was the kind of look that made you feel like you were the only person in the room, the only one that mattered.

his hand slid up to cradle your neck, his thumb brushing against your jawline in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. you leaned into his touch, unable to resist the magnetic pull that had always existed between the two of you. your ex's presence was a distant memory, a forgotten plot point in a story that had taken a turn you hadn't expected.

theo's eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was the same burning need that was reflected in his own. you tipped your chin up, parting your lips slightly, inviting him to close the gap between you. he didn't need any more encouragement than that. his mouth found yours again, this time with a hunger that was unmistakable. the kiss was no longer a show, it was a declaration, a silent promise of passion and fire.

but just as you felt yourself getting lost in the moment, a hand roughly yanked you away from theo. you stumbled, breaking the spell, and found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of one of your best friends. "what the hell are you doing?" she hissed, pulling you through the crowd and away from the dance floor.

you blinked, your cheeks flushing as reality crashed back down around you. the room was spinning, a dizzying mix of lights and shadows. "i-i don't know," you stammered, your voice breathless. "i just wanted to make him jealous."

your friend's eyes went wide, a grin spreading across her face. "oh my god, you two were on fire!" she squealed, her grip on your arm tightening. "i can't believe it! you and theo nott!"

you managed a small laugh, your cheeks still flushed from the dance. "it was just to make him jealous," you murmured, trying to convince yourself more than her. but the thrill of the kiss, the way theo's hands had felt on your body, made it difficult to maintain the facade.

your friend's squeal grew louder, drawing the attention of several nearby partygoers. "are you kidding me?" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "you and theo nott? that's the juiciest gossip this party has seen in ages!"

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. "it's not like that," you said, though your voice wavered. "it was just to get back at my ex."

but the look in theo's eyes as he watched you being dragged away said otherwise. there was a hunger there, a yearning that you couldn't ignore. the dance had changed something, and suddenly the lines between friends and enemies, lovers and rivals, had blurred into something unrecognizable.

[marauder-misprint]

Meeting Padfoot

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.4k words

cw: fluff, swearing

When Dorcas opens the portrait, chaos is audible. Taking a small step through the doorway, you see what’s going on. There’s a large black dog that is running around, barking and baring its teeth at students. There’s a first year student sitting on top of a table, crying. The dog periodically stops to chew on something. Ripped papers are scattered across the floor and the leg of one of the couches has been gnawed on. 

“See!” Dorcas says, shoving you more into the room. “Now fix it!”

You give her a sour look. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Thought you were a dog person.”

“I am, but I’m not bloody animal control!”

With the portrait closed behind you and you physically in the common room, Dorcas hurries past the dog to the girls’ dormitory staircase where Marlene is waiting for her. They disappear up the stairs. You groan and watch the dog. A quick glance of the room tells you that there are no upperclassmen around. It’s just you and a handful of terrified preteens. 

“I’m going to murder them,” you mumble to yourself, referring to the Gryffindors in general and likely whoever owned this dog, or whoever was dumb enough to bring said dog into Hogwarts. 

You keep your demeanor calm as you walk toward the middle of the room. The dog, while still wreaking havoc, watches you. You could’ve sworn the dog smiled at you, or at least seemed happier. Maybe it saw you as someone to play with rather than someone trying to capture it and end its fun. You decide it sees you as a playmate since it never lets you get close to it by cheerfully bounding out of your reach whenever you tried to get close enough to maybe pet it. 

With a groan, you sit against the back of a couch. The dog takes its time as it walks by you, curious as to why its playmate isn’t playing anymore. It walks closer than it had before, sniffing your foot. You lunge forward and grab it by the scruff of its neck. You caught it off guard. It has a kind of defeated look in its eyes but it doesn’t fit you. Without letting it go, you move it closer to you so you can pet it gently. The dog calms down enough to lay down. Despite this, you maintain a hand on it at all times. You caught the damned thing once, you weren’t going to do it again.

“So, um, Gryffindors, how is there a dog in your common room?” you ask loudly, scanning the room again. 

Maybe one of the first through third years had an answer for you. It was hopeful and you knew it. So you aren’t surprised when you're met with silence.

“Ah, you caught him!” James declares, appearing at the bottom of the boys’ stairs. “‘Bout time.”

You give him a glare. “Do you know how he got in?”

James shrugs as he walks toward you and crouches to pet the dog. 

“It’s not like he can give the portrait the password… Someone had to let him in.”

“Maybe Sirius?” James suggests. 

“Where is he?”

He shrugs again. 

“So not in your dorm then…” You roll your eyes and look down at the dog. 

The dog lets out a whine and you scratch him behind his ears. 

“He certainly likes you,” James muses as the dog rolls into you.

“Why do you think Sirius let him in?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Has he mentioned a dog to you before? I thought they weren’t allowed at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, they aren’t.”

You narrow your eyes at James.

“You know more than you’re telling me. Whose dog is this?”

“Sirius’...”

You groan. “Snuck his dog into school and let it run around the common room? Fuckin’ idiot…”

The dog whines again and you coo at him.

“So what’s his name, then?”

“Padfoot.”

You hum and then look at James curiously. 

“Is this why you guys wanted me to chat up Black? You knew he had a dog?”

“Uh, sorta?”

You laugh, rubbing the dog’s belly.

“Well, if he had mentioned he had a dog, maybe we’d get along better.”

“Never mentioned his dog? That’s odd,” James says with fake musings. “He loves Padfoot!”

“And Padfoot loves me,” you coo, smiling down at the dog who you swear is smiling back at you again.

You giggle as Padfoot lurches to lick your face. 

“Hey! Down boy!” James scolds, but you’re just laughing as you allow the dog to cover you in slobber. 

“You can’t scold him, Potter! Not that he’d listen to you anyways,” you say through your laughs. 

“Why wouldn’t he listen to me? I’m best mates with his… owner.”

You roll your eyes. “If he listened to you, Dorcas wouldn’t’ve been sent to get me. You could’ve caught him and hid ‘im in your dorm or something.” You pause, looking around the common room yet again. “But really, where is Black? Why the fuck isn’t he here with his dog?”

“Dunno, like I said before. But, ah, I can take Padfoot up… unless you want to hang out with him?”

You look from James to the dog and back to James. You can’t help but smile widely.

“I’ll stick around for a bit. I’ll send someone to get you if Black takes too long to come back from wherever he is. … Personally, I’d like to give him a piece of my mind for leaving his little puppy all alone!” 

Your voice turned to baby talk at the end of your sentence. How could you not baby a dog when they were so precious? Even when they were destroying school property and likely scarring some kids for life. What could you say? You were a dog person. 

“Wait up for Sirius then. If you get tired of waiting, just bring Padfoot upstairs, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

James gives you a smile and leaves you alone with Padfoot. The dog is more than content to spend more time with you; he rolls over and noses your hand whenever you stop petting him. After what feels like hours, you frown down at Padfoot. 

“Where the hell is your owner, baby boy?” you ask the dog. 

Padfoot looks up at you, still with that happy look on his dog face. He whines briefly as you move away from him to stand up. 

“Sorry, boy. I can’t stay here all night,” you tell him, immediately crouching back down to ruffle the fur on his face. “Not that you understand this, but I’m a Slytherin and this is Gryffindor Tower. I’d take you back to the dungeons with me… but alas, you’re not mine.”

You swear Padfoot tilted his head when you suggested taking him with you. You sigh to yourself and look to the stairs where James had gone up a while ago.

“Come on, Padfoot.”

The dog follows you, albeit semi-reluctantly. He climbs the stairs faster than you do and waits outside the door to the sixth year dorms. You chuckle softly.

“Fido knows home,” you mumble to yourself as you knock firmly on the door. 

There’s some thudding inside the room before Remus opens the door. His face softens when he sees you with Padfoot.

“Thanks for wrangling him,” Remus says, holding open the door so Padfoot could enter. “James told me.”

“Pass something along to Black for me?”

He nods with a cautious look in his eye.

“Tell him to take care of his fucking dog.”

You could hear James and Peter laughing from behind Remus. He gives you a crooked smile.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything else you want me to tell him?”

You shrug. “Eh. Unless you feel like adding a slap to that message.”

There’s a louder thud that sounds suspiciously like a body falling off of a bed that is followed by increased laughing. 

You give Remus a nod and leave Gryffindor Tower as fast as you can. 

Sirius looks satisfied when Remus closes the door and turns around.

“Oh, she is definitely a Padfoot person,” he says, sitting on the foot of his bed with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“For sure,” James agrees. He’s on the floor. “But I think you went backwards on the Sirius front.”

“Which is your fault!” Sirius exclaims.

“How is that his fault?” Remus asks.

“He told her that Padfoot is my dog!”

“What else was I supposed to tell her?”

“I don’t know. Play dumb longer?”

“You were there! She caught on pretty quickly!”

“Hey!” Peter yells over them. “I think we still call Operation Padfoot a success. Proved that she is, in fact, a dog person.”

“And a Padfoot person,” Sirius adds pointedly.

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 14/01✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@cloverthewanderer ha chiesto: Soooo….Imma be honest, I just found you on Instagram this morning with a small part of your Biodads au with the monkey bois. And I might’ve thought it looked so cool I went to Tumblr to binge read it and I just caught up. I love everything about the series and it is so fantastic!! Thank you for having so amazing I am going to obsess over it for awhile. I hope you have a wonderful day!!!! Drink lots of water and take care of yourself! (All of the colors and art is just divine!)

AAAWWWW thank you!!!

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: Now that MK and Red Son are officially dating, MK will tell Red Son that his name is Xiaotian and Red Son will call him that from now on (or else more pet names for the couple). 🔥🍜

Aww, I think technically Red Son also has like-a full name if we keep the chinese dub logic.(Hóng Hái-er)

@samfroggie ha chiesto: Okayokayokayokay- I never liked Shadowpeach, hell I still wouldn't call myself a shipper of it (or of any LMK ship aside from Freenoodles tbh) but you, sir, have made me fall in love with your AU and I can't let it go reeeeeee Honestly, it's the familial love aspect of this that makes me love it, as someone who is fully on board with MK having four dads, shipping aside lmao I'll always look at every image of MK cuddling with any of his parents and feel my heart swell, it's so freaking cute and the angst is just the nice sprinkling on top, I need more protective Mac in my life because I never see it! Also, question, how do you feel about ocs inserts? Like, are we allowed to make art about the AU and insert ocs into it? Asking because I have an oc who's more or less meant to be like MK's mother figure, and I mean, gotta give him more parental figures right?

I got no probs with OC inserts, as long as you credit the comic!

@aptainmilf ha chiesto: Need to tell you that a chapter of your comic singlehandedly pushed a friend of mine to finally watch the show and I would sincerely like to thank you for that lmao. It was the one with Wukong and Macaque at the hot springs

Ahaha welcome them to the club!

@dimensional-storm ha chiesto: Where did the inspiration for Wukong's 'War Form' come from? It's so big, beautiful!! I love the design so much :D

From the original novel, and the sun.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Question Was the spicynoodles kiss inspired by the caitvi prison kiss? :3

Eh, technically no? I also have the text I send my friend as proff, but I swear to you I planned that scene BEFORE S2 came out.

@silktealover ha chiesto: Hi kiri! I'm b33p and I want to ask if mac and my both have ears sensitive to fireworks,if so how do they react on holidays like fourth of July or new years? :3

Yes, I guess during Chinese New Year they would be really bothered by fireworks.

Anonimo ha chiesto: So you have a shadowpeach playlist? What are your favorite shadowpeach coded songs.

My favourite one is like- S1 vibe of Shadowpeach. which is Wonderful Nothing by Glass Annimals

@ayrza ha chiesto: A FUNNY QUESTION! I have also had this doubt with the canon but I want to know now with your AU Kyri... The heads of Wukong each think differently or is it the same wukong divided into three? Will each of them have a different personality? 🤔🤔🤔 Questions that don't let me sleep at night

Aww I think they could!! Like one head is more silly, one more chaotic, while the middle one is just generally more emotionally open and vulnerable.

@twilight-bai-he ha chiesto: Between Wukong and Macaque whose the better dancer 💃🏽 and Can mk dance ?

Macaque, and MK got mooves let's say (more disco than anything else)

@pyromaniacldrt ha chiesto: Heyyyy So You mentioned in other post that Macaque's name was "Six eared Macaque", right? Does that mean Mk's name is "Habringer of Chaos"?

Nope.

@super-may ha chiesto: Stop, if Macaque got hurt in his shadow form does it mean that his real form is not injured or anything? Like in battle with Wukong in the first season he didn’t seem to be hurt or angry about Wukong’s punches. But If he isn’t hurt and his shadow form is injured I don’t think that it will stay like this with Mk and it will return to the body. Oh no, DOES THAT MEAN THAT MK WILL BE ON HIMSELF NOW IN HIS SHADOW FORM OR SMTH? Or return with Macaque’s shadow to Macaque’s body and Mk’s plan will be ruined and he will need to make a choice between himself and the safety of his loved ones? OMG IM SO WORRIED PLS MAKE A HAPPY END WITH EVERYONE ALIVE AND HAPPY AND NOT UNDER THE WILL OF HEAVEN🙏🙏🙏

it's like Sword Art Online. If you die in the shadow world u die in real life.

@harb1ng3r0fch4os ha chiesto: Can I make/post edits of the shadowpeach bio parents au ?? :3 I’ll credit you ofc :]

yea sure!

@king-cinamon ha chiesto: Have you watched Nezha (2019)?

nope. I've read his story though.

@mkthemonkiekiddd ha chiesto: Totally random question (i just wanna know someones opinion on the matter since its been in my head for so long.), how would nezha react to social media, like, imagine someone gave him a phone, Would he even know what it is

He would probably be on the edge between "this is very uneducational" and "holy shit this is the best idea for arsony I ever saw"

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Will we ever see Red Son wag his tail like a dog?? (That would be so cute!! + his parents would be shocked to to see him show such emotion) Oh and I make some art for you, I posted it- Bye <3

oh my- eh... no. I don't think so.

@askthezodiacs ha chiesto: May I use your AU in RPs?

yeah sure! As long as they aren't AI made.

[omgthatdress]

An Analysis of the Ubiquity of Mall Brands in the late 1990s to early 2000s, or

I Fucking Hate These Guys

by OMG!thatdress

If you were a tween to teenager from roughly 1997 to 2004, chances are, you were left with profound life-long trauma caused by someone wearing Tommy Hilfiger, Abercrombie & Fitch, Ralph Lauren, Nautica, American Eagle, The Gap, Old Navy, or, if you were came along a little later, Hollister or Aeropoastale.

I cannot overstate to my young followers how over-saturated these brand names were in teen culture at the turn of the millennium, the extend to which EVERYONE was wearing them, and yet, in a weird way, how light the imprint they actually left on fashion history was.

Watching iconic teen shows of the era, you don't see any of them because a.) TV teenagers tend to be way cooler and more stylish than awkward and desperate real teenagers actually are, and b.) these brands were all copyright protected, which kept their names and logos off the airwaves.

Look in a middle school yearbook, however, you'll see it. Look at your aunt and uncle's high school photo albums, you'll see it. Ask any late Gen X or early Millennial. It was real and it was fucking awful.

The big question is why? Why? WHY, GOD WHY?! There's a lot of answers to that question.

First of all, I'm going to cite this absolutely wonderful article from Collector's Weekly about why everyone's grandma had a hideous orange couch in the 70s, and give the most simple and straightforward answer: it's what was available.

This is when the concept of online shopping is still very much in its infancy, and the hub of American consumer culture was still your local mall. If you needed new clothes, you went to the mall. And guess what stores were at every local mall? You guessed it.

For the second answer, I'm going to dig up this utter relic from the early days of internet meme-ing, that has nonetheless stuck with me and had a profound impact of my understanding of how popular fashion works:

I'm pretty sure that the reason Abercrombie & Fitch manages to survive as a brand today rests solely increasingly middle-aged Millennial men whose sense of style has refused to evolve past the shit their mom bought them in high school.

And why the hell would they? Nobody wore Abercrombie because it made them stand out or feel special. I'm still pretty convinced that nobody actually *liked* the aesthetic or thought the clothes actually looked good. You need not look past the basic color palette to understand these were not brands meant for uniqueness or self-expression.

While Britney Spears pranced around stage in her iconic neon colors and body glitter, American teenagers existed in a never-ending hellscape of washed-out neutrals, faded denim, and American flag primary colors.

All of which served its exact purpose: it was safety. It was a way to appear cool if you didn't want to go through the ordeal of actually having a personality or a sense of style. Which, of course, goes back to point number one: it was just shit you bought at the mall because you needed clothes.

It wasn't enough to save you once the school bully caught that whiff of autism and/or queerness on you, but it was enough that you could blend into the herd and pray no one ever noticed you.

Underneath it all was a very subtle undercurrent of class and classism: to wear mall brands was to declare to the world that you could indeed afford to shop at the mall. It meant you weren't, god forbid, poor.

Status symbol clothing goes back to the invention of clothing itself. The concept of brands as status symbols is still very much alive and well, its just more limited to actual luxury brands nowadays. One need look no further than your favorite high-end children's clothing website to see that rich parents still very much think it important that you know their five-year-old is wiping its boogers on Versace.

None of these brands were actual high-end luxury brands, but they still advertised and presented themselves as such. Their ads featured signifiers of "all-american" (read: White) wealth: yachts, skiing, horses, beaches, shirtless dudes with chiseled abs playing verious sportsballs.

The color palettes and cuts mimicked the preppy "Ivy" style of the New England old-money elite, along with their hobbies and lifestyle. You may not actually own a horse, but you can wear a polo shirt. You may not be able to run without breaking your ankle, but you wear the same shirt as the dude holding a football in the ad.

It was an elitist, White and skinny image that didn't age well into the diversity and body-positivity of the 2010s.

In 2003, a lawsuit was filed against Abercrombie & Fitch alleging systematic racial discrimination. People of color were rarely hired, and if they were, they were given jobs in the back, away from customer view. In 2005, the U.S. district court approved a settlement of $50,000. A few years ago, Netflix released the documentary White Hot: The Rise and Fall of Abercrombie & Fitch which admittedly I haven't watched yet because my hatred runs too deep to remind myself of its existence.

It was a hatred of Abercrombie & the (white, thin, neurotypical, heterosexual) conformity that it represented that drove me screaming into the loving arms of Hot Topic and Linkin Park. Jordan Calhoun wrote an excellent article for the Atlantic about his experience growing up poor and Black and not fitting in to the Abercrombie aesthetic.

I would be very remiss if I didn't bring up the "urban" mall brands of the early 2000s: Fubu, Sean Jean, Ecko, Baby Phat, among others. They were favored by Black teenagers and White teenagers who wanted to be Black. I know there's a lot to be said about these brands, but I'm too Caucasian to really be able to talk about them with nuance. Maybe someone else will, and I will be very happy to listen.

As much as I hate Tommy Hilfiger, I really do have to give him credit for recognizing the incredibly lucrative "street wear" market and selling power of hip-hop. While most of these mall brands kept their image sparkling White, Tommy made Aaliyah his brand ambassador and regularly appeared in the wardrobes of popular rap and R&B artists of the time.

It'd be very easy and very reductive to say that the changing ideology of the 2010s was the downfall of preppy mall brands, but really, the thing that truly killed them was the downfall of the mall itself. Shopping habits changed, and logos and brand names no longer held the power they once had.

The moral of the story is that being a teenager is fucking hell, and these popular brands both offered the safety of conformity and a status symbol to hold over the heads of the poor and uncool. The irony is that everyone who hated them as teenagers (read: ME) and the freaks who grew up to truly love the power of self-expression through personal style (read: ME) became the truly cool people. If you wore Abercrombie you grew up to vote for Donald Trump.

GO GOTH. PREPS SUCK. THE END.

[lavandulawrites]

Undeserving

Yandere Zhongli x reader

Zhongli is definitely a terrifying yandere.

Synopsis: Zhongli takes it upon himself to rid the world of those who sin

Masterlist

Warnings: explicit violence,torn limbs, kinda gory, Zhongli is very possessive, Zhongli is completely feral, reader is not directly involved with any of the violence

Word count: 2223

Zhongli had always seen himself as a reasonable man. Even before he had taken on the name Zhongli. He valued respect and honour. Zhongli had always held a fondness for contracts and their power. He often preferred to negotiate rather than fighting. It was more proper after all.

It was however in moments like this, his polished appearance faltered and revealed the beast within that had slain many.

His glowed fingers loosened his tie before he elegantly slipped off his leather gloves. He placed both his tie and his gloves on the mantle on the unlit fireplace. He slowly turned to face the sinner that sat on his newly bought antique armchair. Zhongli’s skin crawled at the sight of that vermin who had made himself extremely comfortable in his beloved chair.

The man whose name was Haoyu sipped on a cup of pipping hot tea. He showed no care for Zhongli’s possessions and handled the cup with much carelessness.

Zhongli clenched his fists behind his back. Though a dragon was only one of his many forms, his bloodlust was still ever present. His fanged teeth clenched together as he recalled the days he had used those teeth to tear out his enemies throats. No matter what kind of form Zhongli took, his golden reptile like eyes and his long sharp fangs was something he never managed to conceal.

He walked over to the chair which was opposite of Haoyu’s. His steps no different from a stalking predator. With elegance he sat down and crossed his legs. He leaned back in his chair as he picked up his own cup of tea. He inhaled the aroma and sighed him delight at the delicious smell. The tea hot and intense as it filled his throat.

“Do you have any ideas for your brother’s funeral? Or any specific wishes for the ceremony?” he asked the black haired man.

Haoyu rubbed his goatee while he drummed his fingers on the armrest. “I don’t have any specific wishes. I just want to have him buried as fast as possible. I am a busy man you see” his voice had the same pitch as that of an squealing pig.

“I see” Zhongli nodded. “As for payment, the director wants to know when you are able to pay” he continued with an almost bored voice.

“Soon. I just need to make sure my next business deal goes well. So maybe in a week or two. Two is more likely” the bearded man shrugged.

Zhongli’s golden eyes narrowed before he chuckled. “Director Hu Tao needs the payment before Friday, meaning in three days. I have told you so many times” his smiled forced. The director of the funeral parlour was a remarkable young woman. Her youthfulness made Zhongli almost feel young again and he enjoyed her company. He acted as her counsellor and a kind of guardian. Though the guardian part was something that had happened over time.

Zhongli’s appearance was youthful and he looked somewhere in his early to mid thirties. Despite that, his wisdom was greater than all of the elderly in the city combined. He knew that Hu Tao suspected that he wasn’t human, but he never addressed it.

“I don’t think I will be able to” the middle aged man shrugged. He sipped more of his tea and didn’t notice how he spilled some on his shirt.

The former geo archon’s eyes turned cold. His finger stabbing the inside of his palms. “You will have to find a way. We can’t propound the payment any longer.”

Haoyu sighed. “Don’t be so difficult! I’m sure you’ll be able to do something” he winked his goat like eyes at the brunette.

Zhongli felt offended at the ugliness that sat in front of him. “No. I am not able to ‘do something’” his voice monotone. If Zhongli wanted to, he would be able to convince Hu Tao to propound the payment, but he did not feel like doing so.

The man sneered. “Fine” he groaned like the pig he was. He downed the last of his tea and slammed it onto the newly polished mahogany table.

Zhongli’s eyes twitched at the blatantly rudeness. He took a deep breath before he rose to his feet. “I remember I told you about my collection of tableware. I should give you a tour before you leave” he smiled politely at the irritated man.

Haoyu’s frown quickly turned into a smile. “Oh I would love that” he stood up and stretched his limbs, nearly knocking down his teacup from the table.

Zhongli led him to the room where he kept his various collections. Rows upon rows of tea seats filled one of the long walls. Haoyu stopped in front of a delicate purple clay teapot. He lifted it up from its shelf and studied it closely.

Zhongli closed his eyes in annoyance, but continued to play the part of a good host. He showed him his various treasures and Haoyu was overjoyed by the different riches.

Zhongli followed Haoyu out to the hallway. “Before you leave, I want to ask you something” his voice polite.

Haoyu raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Go on.”

Zhongli ignore his rude tone yet again. “I have heard that you are good acquaintances with [Name]” his voice as calm as still water.

The man smirked at his words. “Yeah, you could say that… She’s quite the looker” he laughed. His fat fingers clasped together.

Zhongli reminded silent. He’s face similar to his many statues that were scattered over the country.

At the taller man’s silence, Haoyu raised his brow. “Why are you asking?”

Zhongli walked towards a painting of a bamboo forest. His back facing Haoyu. “I do not like it when people get their greedy hands on what’s mine. It angers me. And very much so” his voice had a sharp edge to it.

He turned slowly to face him. “You are a foul man. You lack both tact and elegance” his diamond shaped pupils small in disgust. He stalked towards him with slow steps.

Haoyu slumped his shoulders at Zhongli’s fury. He gulped loudly as his back hit the wall.

“You are not worthy of [Name’s] presence. She has told me countless times that she finds you revolting” his rage cold in his veins as he looked down at the man who had sinned the greatest sin of all. His cold golden gaze flickered down to the man’s hands. The very hands that had touched his beloved.

“I-I promise to never speak to her or touch her ever again!” Haoyu uttered as he slumped even further together. His legs were shaking in fear.

His stuttering a clear sign of his cowardice and Zhongli found it humorous how his brutish façade was just only that: a façade.

The adeptus’ entire body was filled with the want, need, to spill the blood of the man who had crossed him. He flex his hands along his side and felt the welcoming power of geo that flowed through his veins. He raised his hand in a quick motion as he wrapped it around Haoyu’s neck. He slammed his head against his wall, not caring about his expensive wallpaper.

“All sinners must pay for their sins. You are no different” he spat. Zhongli’s eyes glowed a golden hue which was the main telltale sign of his non-humanity.

Haoyu desperately tried to defend himself, but the strong hand that held his neck only tightened. The sound of his struggling breath was music to his ears.

“Be quiet” was all he said before he dropped the man.

The bearded man quickly crawled towards the front door before Zhongli brought his foot down and kicked him in his ribs. The sound of bones creaking brought a small smile to the former archon’s face.

Haoyu screamed as snoot and tears streamed down his disgusting face. He loudly prayed to be saved by Rex Lapis.

Zhongli scoffed before he brought his foot at the nap of Haoyu’s neck. He pressed down, earning a cry from the black haired man. “Take his name out of your filthy mouth” he sneered.

He manifested his spear and pointed it towards the man who laid in a kneeling position on the floor. The pointed tip, glittering in the light. His polearm had been his trusted companion throughout many years.

“Get up” his tone dominating.

Haoyu scrambled up to his legs and clutched his side in pain. His dark eyes looked up at Zhongli in fear.

Zhongli raised his spear before he brought it down to Haoyu’s left shoulder. The spear pierced his flesh and made contact with the bone. Red blood splattered on the hardwood floor. Haoyu screamed in pain.

“AGH! Fuck! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” he screamed as he tried to stop the bleeding with his fat hand.

The brunette laughed at his pitiful cries. “No one will help you. They cannot hear you on the outside” his lips twisted up into a cruel smile. He had used adeptal arts to completely soundproof his home.

He stalked towards his prey and stopped right in front of him. His polished shoes soaking in blood. He sneered in disgust.

He rose his empty hand. His finger tips turned into claws which he used to slash through the neck of the sinner in front of him. Haoyu gurgled on his blood as he desperately clutched his throat. His eyes wet as they pleaded to the god in front of him.

Zhongli brought his bloodied hand before him. Torn skin was attached to his long black claws. He shook his hand and sent the skin flying towards Haoyu.

With a splat the skin landed on his forehead which resulted in him throwing up. Vomit spewed out from his mouth and the gaping hole in his throat. The sight was disgusting and Zhongli felt even more offended. The smell of vomit reached his strong nose and he crushed his inhuman sense of smell.

He reattached his claws and sat his spear neatly against the wall behind him. He crouched down to the dying man’s level. His godly eyes scanning his. “You brought this upon yourself” was all he said.

Long elegant fingers wrapped around Haoyu’s left arm. Zhongli waited till he was sure he was sure he paid attention. He then ripped his arm off with no effort. The tearing sound echoed in the hallway. Blood gushed from the open wound. It was going to be long before he died from blood loss. Zhongli tossed the arm away before he stood up.

“Stand” he commanded.

Haoyu struggled like a newborn fawn, but managed to stand. His appearance similar to that of a mangled corpse than a living human.

Zhongli brought his hand up to his chest. The power of geo poured out from his every pores and onto the man in front of him.

Slowly, but surely his chest turned into stone. Haoyu screamed as loudly as his damaged vocal cords let him. Zhongli was sure to be slow. It was important for him to feel the pain as long as he could.

His harsh eyes met the gaping hole in his throat. Tendons clearly visible. His vocal cords looked rather teared as well as his Adam’s apple which was completely damaged.

“You should apologise for your unkempt appearance” Zhongli had no humanity left in neither his voice nor eyes.

He reattached his hand. He made sure to make proper eye contact with Haoyu before he curled his hand into a fist. His fist drove into his face. Before he knew it, his fist had made a complete hole. Haoyu’s body fell limp against the floor. His face completely gone and replaced by a through hole. Brain matter covered the wall and stained his beautiful wallpaper.

Zhongli scoffed at the mess. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and willed his hands. Th white pure fabric quickly turned grimy.

He was yet again glad for the adeptal art he was the father off. With a snap of his finger the whole hallway was clean. The hardwood floors no longer coated in warm sticky blood and the wallpaper no longer stained. The body was turned into stone which quickly turned into sand.

He brought a broom and cleaned the sand up.

He would sprinkle the sand in the garden in Haoyu’s family house.

He sat down on his armchair and breathed out. He was content with his work. The only thing missing was you by his side. He picked up the contract he had written. He would encourage you to write your name on it. Then your fate would be sealed and he would finally be able to sleep peacefully with you by his side. With Haoyu and the others who had been close to you out of the picture, it was only the two of you.

Just as it should be.

He took a sip of the rich wine and let the the liquid swirl around in his mouth. A soft smile formed on his lips. He had had the adepti make a beautiful red wedding dress with gold embroidered into the silky fabric. You would make a beautiful bride and he would do everything in order to protect you. He would even take his role as an archon again if the situation called for it.