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#the way this is a whole essay and took hours to write
lucyandalexiafan · 4 months
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blow off steam | Alexia Putellas x reader | part 1
summary: since Alexia got injured two weeks ago, it's obviously that she needs to blow off steam; so, after the umpteenth attempt by her to have your attention, you ask her to take control, to completely dominate you.
Warnings: dom!Alexia, sub!reader, kneel at Alexia's feet, Alexia' fingers that fuck reader's mouth while reader in kneeling in front of her, humping shoe, face slaps (three times), humiliations, degradations, use of pet names / slut, light jelaous!Alexia, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
words: 3131
Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!
Nb: English is not my first language and I’m not sure if it’s “blow off steam” or “blow of some steam”. I searched online but I didn’t understood, so I’m sorry if it’s wrong the way that I used
I turn off the TV interrupting the program that Ale is watching, the umpteenth trashy program.
Since she was injured two weeks ago, she has become unbearable.
She doesn't come to the field during training hours anymore, she doesn't go out, she doesn't cook, and she doesn't do anything other than be on the phone and watch stupid programs on any TV channel or streaming platform.
It doesn't bother me that she behaves like this or, at least, I understand her, I try to understand her; so I do everything for both of us without protesting, without emphasizing how to take care of the house, shopping all the different type of food required by our diets, cooking different dishes for me and her every lunch and dinner (due to the variation of her diet), do not combine well with the study for my master's degree, with the research I am doing, and with my training with the team.
I don't protest, I don't snort, I don't say anything. 
I accept any comment about how overcooked the chicken is, about the fact that the bread had to be soft wheat and not whole wheat, about how messy the kitchen is.
I didn't even comment on the fact that she delegated the care of her dog to me alone, even though she can walk.
I accepted to study all night and write those essays at unreasonable hours, risking not completing my homework or showing up not prepared enough for meetings with university tutors, as well as showing up for training tired, exhausted and with less and less energy.
But today... today it's too much.
I had started studying in the kitchen, on the counter, because I had started cooking dinner and lunch for tomorrow; Ale was watching television. She knows, she knows, how much I hate having too much noise around, how much the overstimulation is a problem for me because of my ADHD, how much I go into crisis when there is too much chaos around me, no longer being able to concentrate and control myself, always ending up looking around, trying to figure out where all the voices are coming from and, when there are too many, ending up on the verge of tears.
She knows it.
But, despite this, she had started using TikTok at maximum volume at the same time as the television, creating an annoying chaos that could not even be masked by the music that passed through my headphones.
I had asked her to turn down the volume several times, I had even texted her asking her to stop because I had to study, telling her that it was important that I end that essay within three days, before the last game before the Christmas holidays.
After half an hour of trying I couldn't take it anymore, I got up, took the remote control and turned off the television.
"What are you doing?" she asks irritated.
The sharp voice.
I bite my lip.
We haven't had sex in two weeks and I haven't had an orgasm for three, and seeing her so angry floods my belly with sharps of pleasure.
Ever since we had started experimenting with sex, since Ale had started to be dominant in bed and I had started to feel free enough and trust her enough to be completely submissive, we had established 'rules'; one of the ones we started experimenting with first was about orgasms. 
No orgasms that aren't given by her or that she doesn't allow me to have.
It had not only increased libido and feeling in bed, but also communication. Since we had established this rule, we had begun to talk much more about sex, to describe how we felt and to provoke ourselves; I had begun to no longer feel embarrassed to express my sex urge or tell her what I needed. 
Begging her for what I needed.
So, after exactly three weeks since my last orgasm, I'm extremely needy.
Ale, at the same time, is extremely angry, disappointed, and resentful, about the injury and I know, I'm sure, that she would like to blow off steam on me, on my body, but she is afraid to ask for it, to do it. She's afraid because she's never done it before, because she's always afraid of hurting me and because she knows what I've been through in the past.
So now, because she doesn't want to express this need, she is short-tempered, rude, arrogant.
I kneel on the ground, in front of her, my legs slightly apart.
I look into her eyes.
She swallows the saliva, the phone still in her hand, as she jams her eyes into mine.
"I would like you to take control – I say, my voice trembling with embarrassment – I need you to blow off steam on me and I need to be dominated, to let you be in control"
I bite my lip.
The fear that he will refuse, that she will say no, that she will think I am crazy, increases when she does not respond immediately.
"You don't know what you're asking for, little girl" 
The low voice, the seraphic tone.
"I want you to take control Reina, I want you to punish me, I want you to use my body"
She lay her phone on the couch.
"You don't have to do it for me, i-"
"I want it, Ale, I need it as much as you do" I whisper, pleading, looking into her eyes.
Nails playing with a little skin on my index finger.
She nods.
"Are there any things you don't want me to use or do?" the tone is the one she uses on the field when she's the team captain.
That confident tone, which admits no reply.
"No, Reina"
I touch her right calf with one hand, the need for physical contact advancing in me; I play with her skin, just massage her.
She grins, looking at me.
She looks at me, her face slightly tilted.
She bites her lip, as if pondering my request.
"Now I'm going to make you a list of items or practices and you have to tell me with safewords which ones are green, which ones are yellow, and which ones are red, okay? – I nod – What are your safewords?"
"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, red to stop"
"Good girl - I twitch my thighs, a knot in my belly, as her hand brushes my cheek, a satisfied look as she looks down on me – then let's get started"
After a few minutes, I had established green orgasm denial, spanking with hands and belt, the use of the collar with the leash, the use of ropes or more generally in bondage, penetrative sex with both fingers and dildos, the use of plugs and strap-ons, degradation; yellow overstimulation and preventing me from speaking by putting objects in my mouth; red blindfold. However, I asked her if she could use pet names from time to time to reassure me, so the degradation and humiliation were not the only channels of communication during a scene we were experiencing for the first time.
I clasp my hands on my thighs, my belly invaded by contractions of pleasure.
"Have you had any orgasms since the last time I got you one?" the tone is so low that it gives me goosebumps.
"No, Reina" I hurry to answer; a marked blush colors my cheeks and neck because no matter how much we talked about sex, how much we started experimenting in bed more than a year ago, I will never stop being embarrassed when we talk about these things.
She grinns with satisfaction.
"Something as needy as you hasn't had an orgasm in three weeks, hm? – she asks as she strokes my cheek with her thumb, a fake smile of pity adorns her face – Does your need to be a good girl, to please me, also beat your need of an orgasm?"
I look down immediately, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
How can she make me so submissive, so needy, with just one question?
The panties are soaked, I feel them being uncomfortably attached to my intimacy.
"Yes, Reina, I just want to please you"
She moans openly at my answer and I see the muscles in her legs twitch.
I close my eyes to the sound.
"I don't think I told you that you can not look me in the eye"
I look at her, eyes slightly wider, position more rigid as I try to hold her gaze.
"I'm sorry Reina," I whisper guiltily.
We haven't even started and I'm already breaking the rules?
She looks at me for a moment and then her gaze, that sadistic, excited look, softens; a sweet, loving smile replaces the grin that had begun to adorn her face since she began to list what she could and couldn't do tonight.
"Amor, this is the last chance I'll give you to stop everything before we start, before I start punishing you and then take you to the bedroom, where only the safewords will make me stop – the suddenly cautious, sweet tone, like it's never been in the last two weeks – I'm not going to get angry, resentful or irritated if you tell me you don't want to go on anymore or that you're not sure anymore, baby, but I want you to tell me before you start because I don't want to start without being sure that you want it as much as I do; we will cuddle and maybe watching a film, order some takeaway food"
Her hand on my cheek, the back of my index and middle fingers caressing my skin.
I look at her, every fear gone, every tension leaves my body. 
She is always her, the sweet, caring, loving girlfriend who would never hurt me or continue something I don't want. 
No matter how much she needs to blow off steam, she would never hurt me.
I shake my head.
"I... I want to do it Reina, but-but only if you want it completely too" I answer, my voice trembling with embarrassment, but my gaze fixed on hers.
She smiles.
Her beautiful smile.
"I love it when you call me Reina, I'll never stop saying it" she whispers as she runs her thumb over my bottom lip, as she frees it from the grip of my teeth.
I open my lips allowing her to stick it past my teeth, into my mouth; she pushes it all in, until she hits my chin with her palm. I lick it slowly as I look straight into her eyes.
After a while she replaces it with her index and middle fingers, pushing them into my mouth slowly, and then she starts to move them, as if to fuck my mouth.
I go along with it, licking her fingers, opening and closing my lips against her skin. 
She groans looking at me.
"So submissive, at my feet, while you call me Reina – she pushes her fingers harder into my mouth, until she touches my chin with her palm again, and touching the back of my throat, gagging me – My dirty filthy slut"
I gasp.
I place my hands on her knees, as if looking for a support to hold on to while she fucks my mouth with her fingers.
She sneers.
I look at her from below, her lips slightly open twisted into a grin, her eyes veiled by sadism, her cheeks flushed, her tongue occasionally caressing her lips, her brow furrowed, the hair of her forelock escaping the grip behind her ears.
"Hands behind your back, I don't think I told you you can touch me" 
I groan in surprise as I hurry to do what she says, squeezing one hand into the other until my nails are in my palm.
The tips of her fingers touch the back of my throat with each thrust, and with every moan I make, she grins; She tells me to breathe through the nose when she realizes that, due to gagging, I struggle to breathe through my mouth.
She continues like this for some time that seems like minutes, she fucks my mouth with her fingers, her gaze alternating between my eyes and my mouth, a sadistic grin, until she takes them off completely.
I moan, finally free to breathe through my mouth.
She wipes the fingers against my cheeks, the back on one cheek, the inside on the other; the trickle of saliva that still connects them to my lips.
She puts her hand on my right cheek and I know what's going to happen.
"Disobedient little girl – the first slap is light against my skin, more for the scene than for anything else – Twice you disobey my orders and I didn't even touch you"
I gasp looking at her, her lips still slightly parted.
Then, as she walked away, her hand hits my cheek.
We both moan at the same time, her greasing and lowest, mine louder.
No matter how much I expected it, it's getting more and more exciting every time.
"Color, little girl?" she asks, an attentive look on my face trying to understand what I think about the slap.
"Green... green Reina" I moan.
"Dirty little," she whispers as she caresses my face, "So needy just because I fucked your mouth, hm?" she asks, as she runs her fingers over my lips, but without pushing them any further.
"Yes-yes Reina," I say cautiously in response.
Then, suddenly, she moves one leg between mine until I feel her foot, covered by her favorite and most expensive pair of shoes, in contact with my intimacy.
"Hump my shoe, slut" 
It's an order said as she leans back on the couch. She opens her arms, resting them on the headboard of the sofa.
I wade at her, my eyes wide open with the request, but my pupils probably dilated with excitement. I'm incredulous.
"Color, little girl?" she asks when, after a few seconds, I don't move, her voice warm, lovely.
"G-green Reina – I whisper hesitantly, realizing the time that has passed, realizing that by doing so I was disobeying – I'm sorry"
She moves her torso toward me, her hand grabbing a hand of my hair. "Do you want to add a third punishment to the two you've already earned, hm? – I answer with a faint no, Reina – Then, move" she continues, her tone suddenly more authoritative and dominant, no longer disguised as feigned pity, her back coming back into contact with the sofa.
I bite my lip and moan when I feel her shoe move slightly against my clit.
"C-can I put my hands on your leg Reina?" I ask, my voice faint, the need to touch her, for physical contact.
"Aw, little girl, can't you even keep your balance? Okay, grab my leg. You can lean against it however you want," the mocking tone.
My hands grab her calf.
My torso is against her shin as I slowly begin to move.
I'm wearing thin shorts and panties made of almost non-existent fabric, so with every movement I feel the relief of the shoelaces against my clit.
I moan, I whine, unashamed.
I squeeze her leg as I rest my head on the lower part of her inner thigh, just above the knee, breaking eye contact. 
As soon as the tip of her shoe starts to move against me, putting pressure on my hole, I start moving faster and faster; I'm not sensual, I'm not pretty bent over her, my back arched out, my head down.
"Dirty little slut," she says while her hand scratches my scalp "How does it feel to hump against a so expensive shoe that I've been looking for months in any shop in Barcelona, to be so slutty that you seek satisfaction and pleasure by rubbing yourself on a shoe without shame?"
I whine in humiliation.
"Please Reina, can I... can I-"
Her hand clenches in my hair, forcing me to look at her.
"Don't even try. This is just the beginning – she hits my cheek again – Did you think it would be so easy after disobeying me?"
I bite my lip, looking at her with the most puppy look I'm capable of; my vision slightly clouded by excitement and tears.
I open my mouth a couple of times, attempting to speak, but no sound other than a moan comes out.
When she notices that I am not responding, she stops moving her foot. "Color?"
"Green" I answer immediately, as I continue to move on her shoe, hoping that she will move again.
The shoelaces against my clit.
The contractions of pleasure in the lower abdomen.
She grinns as she looks at me.
She reaches down to kiss me, her hand still in my hair.
Then, as it all began, she moves the shoe away from my intimacy.
"How do you feel, hm? What would people say if they could see you like this, at my feet, desperate after humped my shoe like a slut, hmm? What would our teammates say if they saw you like that? – she grins, the hand that makes pat pat on my head – How do you think Aitana and Ona would react, mh?"
I close my eyes.
"None of them will be able to make you feel like that, reduce you like that, like I do. Not even Lucia. It doesn't matter how hard they try"
"Please, please," I whisper as I tighten my fingers around her knee.
The humiliation becomes pleasure, contractions of pleasure stronger and stronger, when she starts talking about the team, about my friends, about Lucy.
Of her jealousy of Lucy, caused by the fact that we are so close friends and that she is also dominant in bed; the eldest is openly dominant in bed, while Ale is much more modest in making her sexual performances public to the team. Modesty for which I am grateful, but which makes her feel clearly in competition with the English player.
"Please what, little one?"
Cheeks that burn when I hear the pet name.
Her fingers forcing my chin to look at her.
Her blonde hair is tousled.
"Touch me, please Reina... I-I need to-"
Humiliation breaks through my legs, which I immediately clench.
To be at her feet, to call her Reina, to be so desperate.
"I just want you, Reina... I... on-only you. No one else," she moans, "I beg you."
"Get up, go to our room and strip. I want you on the bed, on hands and knees. In less than ten minutes I'll be there."
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forjongseong · 11 months
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the reward // jay (ENHYPEN)
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pairing: student!jay x tutor!fem!reader
genre: campus!au, smut (minors dni) // warning: older reader, they call reader "Noona", profanity, mentions of studying (lol), Heeseung makes an appearance, the rest of hyung-line are mentioned, making out, a lot of making out, just making out, fingering, protected sex (because Jay is responsible) // wc: ~9.5k
summary: you teach for a living, and you had been picking up tutoring since the extra money wasn't that bad. most of your meetings consist of essay-writing, mock tests, and speaking exercises; so when Jay became your student, you weren't expecting the lessons to include rewards.
author’s note: what?? two fics in the span of three days? with this I announce my retirement...
just kidding I STILL HAVE the secretary!Jay series to finish so I won't be retiring soon. this one is based on the rimless glasses series which is like, a random note I made for my wips, and believe it or not, while I made Bite Me sit and marinate on the shelf for so long, I finished this fic below within seven hours. yes, sometimes I am very motivated.
ANYWAY since I kept getting ideas for this one, I decided to sit down and write everything in one go, because if I pause to pick it up later I end up feeling not that confident with my work.
with that being said, I totally loved this one, so I hope you guys will enjoy it AS MUCH AS I DID writing it.
special mention to @excusememissiloveyou who was there the whole time virtually giving me mental support and good reactions
taglist: @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr
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You took the last sip of your latte as you tried to hold in your laughter. You then carefully swallowed your drink before chuckling and putting your cup back on the table, and then swatting the guy in front of you for cracking a joke and deliberately trying to make you laugh and choke at the same time.
“No, but seriously, thank you,” Heeseung said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I reached my target score.”
“What was it again?” You asked, at the same time unlocking your phone to check the time.
“7.5,” he answered.
You frowned. “That’s literally the same score you had before you took lessons with me, is it not?”
Heeseung nodded. “But without your help, I probably would have scored lower. Thanks for all the practice. And your time.”
You smiled and waved your hand, pretending to be humble. “Well, you’re welcome. I’m just doing what I get paid for.”
This time Heeseung was the one who chuckled, and before he could say another word you had to excuse yourself because it was time for your afternoon class.
“I’ll make the transfer tonight,” Heeseung said as he stood up, collecting the used napkins on the table. “Oh, by the way, Noona, I gave your number to my friend. He said he needs a tutor too. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Sure, you can broadcast my number to everyone who needs a tutor, to be honest. I’d love the extra money.”
Heeseung snickered and waited for you to start walking. He sped up and held the door open for you as you both exited the café.
“What’s his name? Or her, sorry, I just assumed.” You fixed your bag’s strap on your shoulder before taking out your phone again.
“Jay. He’s a med student too. We’re in the same class.” Heeseung started typing on his phone. “I’ve just let him know that you know he’s going to text you.”
“Awesome,” you said with a smile. “I’ll see you around, Heeseung. Good luck with the semester abroad.”
---
The waitress eyed the empty plates you had set aside before you started scrolling on your phone, and when you made eye contact with her you nodded, and she immediately took the plates away. You then placed an order for a cold drink since you were sure your new student was going to be running late.
“Punctuality,” you sighed to yourself, “should literally be counted in every single score…”
You heard the bell chiming as someone entered the restaurant, and your eyes immediately fell on him. The guy had his hair slicked back with a couple of strands hanging on his forehead, he was wearing a white button-down with a suede jacket on top, and the straight-cut pants he was wearing made you want to ask him where it was from.
“Y/N Noona,” he greeted you with confidence before you could even stand up, “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Hi, Jay,” you watched as he took his backpack off and set it on the chair beside him. He then sat down and looked at you with a huge smile.
The fuck? What is he so attractive for? You thought, smiling back.
“I didn’t know this place existed on campus,” he began, initiating small talk. His eyes were scanning the place, and as he looked around in wonder you thought for a second that he looked like a majestic black cat. And you love cats.
“Yeah,” you said before the silence became too loud. “It’s my favorite place to grab lunch or to hold private sessions like this. So, what do you need an IELTS score for?”
“Same as Heeseung,” Jay answered you only after he looked around for a waiter. He quickly placed his order and refocused his attention back on you. “Did you order yet?” He asked, sounding concerned as he looked around and saw nothing in front of you.
Your drink order arrived, and you thanked the waitress in a whisper and a smile, and you made an effort to explain yourself before Jay started to speculate.
“I already ate, and this is my dessert,” you said, turning the cup around and making sure it was the right order. “You can go ahead and eat while I answer any questions you might have about our lessons.”
“Right,” Jay shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “So, I want to get a higher score than Heeseung, but I’ve never taken the test before, so how many meetings do you think we should have so I can achieve that?”
Confident, curious, and ambitious, you thought. You could definitely work with him.
“Alright,” you began, clearing the space in front of you and taking out your notebook and a pen.
You spent the next two hours talking to Jay, mostly stuff regarding lesson plans, but after that, you asked him about his studies, and he also asked you about your experiences and your current work. He mentioned the names of the students you had previously tutored, Jake and Sunghoon, and only then did you learn that the four of them must have their own clique.
“Where do you usually have your lessons with them?” Jay asked, wiping his mouth with a clean napkin after he finally finished his meal.
“Since they’re only available in between my classes, I usually ask them to go to cafes around the campus,” you replied. “I literally just go where I am asked, though. You guys are the students, so.”
“Can I pick the place for our next meeting?” Jay asked, grabbing his phone. “I’ll match your schedule first.”
You opened your calendar on your bullet journal and started jotting down Jay’s availability while he typed in your schedule on his phone.
“Right, so on Tuesday, since you only have a morning class, let’s have lunch at this place, hold on,” Jay said, eyes glued to his phone as he pulled up a website of the place he was referring to. “Here.”
You craned your neck to look at Jay’s phone, and when you read the address, you tilted your head. “I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like it’s walking distance from campus.”
“Oh, I’ll pick you up.” Jay blinked at you innocently. “I’ll drive you back to campus too. Or your home?”
“Campus is fine, I carpool with my brother,” you quickly replied. “Thank you.”
Jay shrugged and checked the time on his watch. “We’re done here, right?”
You nodded. “Unless you have more questions?”
He smiled and shook his head, and you hated the way you thought he was just so damn handsome. He then stood up and made his way to the booth, and you saw him take out his wallet while gesturing to your table. When he walked back to his seat, you leaned in and whispered.
“Did you just pay for my meal?” You asked, trying to be discreet.
“Why are you whispering? Of course, I did,” Jay replied, also whispering to match your energy.
You chuckled and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before you stood up, and you were slightly surprised at how fast he walked ahead of you just to hold the door open.
“I’ll see you Tuesday?” Jay asked, stretching out his hand.
You realized he was going for a handshake, so you took his hand. His fingers grabbed your hand firmly and you had to hold in a wince.
“Tuesday,” you replied, keeping your cool. “Bye, Jay.”
---
After a couple of meetings with Jay, you realized that the guy had grown on you and that he might be your favorite student ever if you were even allowed to have one. Skill-wise, he needed a lot of help, but he was a quick learner, and he took all your advice seriously, putting it into action almost immediately and showing up with instant results.
“Can I ask you what your thought process is like when you write an argumentative essay like this?” You said previously on your second meeting with him, at a café that he picked out.
“I look at the topic and begin writing, and I just… write as I go,” he answered truthfully.
You sighed and he took a quick glance at your face. “See, that’s where you’re wrong.”
You began explaining how outlining an essay was essential to make sure you can get your points across, and as you were speaking you kept looking at your notes, his hands, the window, and everything else except his face. But you can feel his eyes glued to yours. He attended every single meeting with the type of energy that you had never found before in any of your other students, and somehow, he just exudes positivity and passion.
During the meeting after that, he handed you over his homework, along with an extra essay that was written according to your input. He could not hide his stupid grin every time you complimented a sentence structure, and for the first time, you finally made him speechless.
“Thank you,” you said after ending your feedback.
Jay tilted his head and frowned. “What for?”
“For taking my input seriously,” you continued.
Jay became even more confused. “Isn’t that what students do?”
You scoffed and shook your head. “A lot of my students don’t.”
“Well, they’re just dumb, then.”
Your mouth hung open in shock at Jay’s sudden insult, and he found your face hilarious that he just had to cackle, his laugh echoing throughout the place. You covered your mouth and giggled silently, helplessly smacking his arm so he would quiet down.
On your fourth meeting, you requested to have the lesson at the campus café since you had to go home as soon as your session with him ended. This time, however, he was running late, and you had to spend a couple of minutes alone chugging down your latte to stay awake.
“Noona, I’m so sorry,” Jay said as soon as pulled the chair beside you. He sat down and started complaining. “My professor just announced this urgent assignment that we had to do, and…”
The annoyance that came with almost being stood up evaporated completely when you heard Jay yapping about what happened in his class. Maybe you were just too tired to be angry, or maybe you were just happy to see him.
“Shall we just practice Speaking then for now?” You asked after he finished his explanation.
Jay nodded quickly. “Anything you want. Do you want me to order another drink for you?”
“It’s fine, calm down,” you said, chuckling lightly. “Alright, let me look for a topic.”
You quickly browsed your phone and began asking him questions. You made a gesture and pointed to his phone, signaling him to record himself speaking, so he did so without breaking eye contact with you. For the next part, you picked a topic that required him to talk about a close friend, and as he began to elaborate on his answer, it was your turn to look at him intently.
“What I like about her is,” Jay spoke in the middle of his answer. He then paused as if he was searching for the right word to use, but you were feeling sleepy and goofy, so you interrupted him.
“Her smile?” You asked in a teasing tone before you started laughing.
Jay became flustered and quickly waved both his hands to deny your guess. “No, not that!”
He then joined you laughing, and you had to apologize for stretching the time limit he had. You then asked him to continue and wrap up, and after that you immediately gave feedback. However, when you were speaking you got tongue-tied a lot, and you kept saying the wrong words or taking too long to find one.
“Noona, if you’re really tired, we can end the class early, I don’t mind,” Jay said calmly, looking at you with concern but also smiling like he somehow found you adorable.
“No!” You said with an unreasonable tone of refusal. Jay flinched in his seat from how loud you spoke. “No, you already came late, so I’m not cutting this meeting even shorter.”
“Alright,” Jay chuckled to himself. He looked to the ground and saw that you had your shoes off.
Eventually, you gave him constructive feedback and even managed to pull up the previous essay he had written and gave him pointers on the spot. When it was time to wrap up, Jay cleared his throat before proposing an idea.
“Noona,” he began, “can we have the next meeting at my place?”
“Sure,” you replied without hesitation. “What’s the name of the café this time?”
Jay smiled and shook his head. “I meant my place, as in, my house.”
“Oh?” You paused and let your hand hover over your book, trying to formulate a response. “Uhm, I have never—”
“If you feel uncomfortable, it’s fine. We can go to another place. You can choose!” Jay quickly revised his statement, worried that he made the wrong decision of even voicing his idea.
“Well, where do you live?” You asked, genuinely curious.
“Not walking distance from campus,” Jay said with a smile. “But again, I’ll drive you there and back. I live alone, it’s my parents' house, but they’re currently living in another city to take care of their business, so they left the house to me. And we won’t be alone, I’ve got some workers who are doing renovations, so…”
You realized how flustered he became, and by now you already know that Jay tends to say a lot of words when he was nervous, so to save him from further embarrassment, you nodded. His eyes lit up when he finally got an answer from you.
“I’ll text you when you can pick me up,” you said. “Don’t be late.”
Jay licked his lips before grinning widely. “I won’t.”
---
You were lounging on a huge sofa, a couple of pillows under your head and between your legs, and you winced as you heard the sound of ongoing construction outside the house. You glanced over to Jay, who had his eyebrows knitted and his rimless bluelight filter glasses perched on his nose, studiously reading the questions on his laptop screen. The noise-canceling headphones you brought proved to be useful, as he seemed to stay focused really well, and you wondered why he did not own a pair.
After introducing the idea of taking mock tests online and reviewing them right away, you ended up staying for longer hours whenever your meetings were held at Jay’s place, and when you first came there, one of the workers mistook you for Jay’s girlfriend. You then began to wonder if he had brought home other girls as well.
“Noona,” Jay called for you, breaking your chain of thoughts. “There’s no way I can answer this one correctly.”
Jay pulled his headphones down and gestured for you to sit next to him, so you did, and he pushed his laptop to your side so you can see its screen better. He was complaining about the true-false-not given questions, and he was getting frustrated because he could not tell the difference between false and not-given.
As you began to explain, Jay pulled the laptop closer to his side again, and you wanted him to read but also listen at the same time, so instead of pulling it closer to you, you moved closer to him. You ended up sitting closer to the coffee table and closer to the screen, with Jay sitting right behind you.
“So, if you see this passage here, the third paragraph,” you said, pointing at the screen. You did not hear a reply. “Jay?”
“Sorry,” Jay quickly replied, shaking his head. “Sorry, I zoned out. You smell so good.”
You were not going to let Jay see you blush, so you merely chuckled and cleared your throat. “Okay, moving on.”
You continued explaining, and Jay kept responding to you with one-word answers or mere hums, and you thought as long as he was paying attention, you did not need to check on him.
Little did you know that as you were speaking, his eyes were scanning your whole body. He leaned in ever so slightly to take in your scent better, and he noticed how sheer the button-down you were wearing was. He could barely see the outline of your light blue bra strap, and as you adjusted your position, he realized he was leaning in too close, so he quickly backed away before he got caught.
“Do you get it now?” You asked, looking back at him.
Jay was leaning against the sofa, a fair distance from you, but his eyes were focused on your lips, and that was a hard thing not to notice. To be frank, you were fighting yourself and trying to regulate your heartbeat whenever it beat faster when he came a little too close to you, and now you were beginning to think that the feeling might be mutual.
“Jay?” You asked. You then waved your hand in front of his face. “You seem out of it—”
You could not finish your sentence as you were in shock from the way his hand grabbed your wrist. You froze instantly, and your heart was beating even faster than when he was up close.
“Sorry,” Jay said, clearing his throat. He lowered your hand and let go of your wrist. “Sorry about that.”
“We can end the session now if you don’t feel well—”
“Noona,” he interrupted, “don’t end it now.”
“Okay,” you replied as you shifted in your seat and turned to face him. “How can I help you understand this better?”
Jay licked his lips and looked at the screen before looking at you, and within a short moment, he was flipping coins in his head, trying to imagine the different possible outcomes that would happen if he suggested what he was thinking the whole time.
“If I get the answer right,” he began, “would you show me your boobs?”
The question came out of nowhere and your immediate response was to laugh out loud, but once you looked at his face you realized he was dead serious, and since he asked politely you decided to entertain the idea.
“Alright, why not? Nothing to lose here,” you replied, confident that he would get the answer wrong. It was one of the types of questions that you hated the most because of how tricky it was, so you were convinced that even he would not get it right.
You were glad that you were wrong, for the first time in your life.
“I got it right, didn’t I?” Jay asked minutes later as you leaned closer to look at the screen, scanning the answer key and looking at Jay’s answer.
“Goddamnit,” you muttered, mindlessly clicking the mouse all over the screen.
You heard Jay whisper a ‘yes’ triumphantly and you sighed to yourself before turning around to face him. You began pulling your button-down up from the tuck in your pants, and Jay’s eyes immediately widened.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He shouted, reaching his hands out to stop you. “What are you doing?”
“Flashing you?” You asked back, fingers frozen at the edges of your shirt.
Jay chuckled and fell back leaning his head on the sofa, taking his glasses off and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Noona, I was just joking.”
You felt disappointed, for some reason, and a little bit humiliated. Was he really just using you to feel motivated? And did that actually work? Were you secretly hoping for him to get the answer right?
“Really?” You asked again for confirmation. Jay nodded.
You paused for a second and then smiled. Jay thought you were going to say, ‘Good one’, but then you began scooting closer to him, and he immediately tensed up.
“So, when I sat down in front of you, and you got distracted, that was part of the act?” You asked, almost batting your eyelashes at him.
You could basically hear him gulp. “Yes,” he said, eyes on yours.
“You said I smelled good, was that just a joke too?”
“No,” Jay answered, chuckling this time. “You really do smell good.”
You reached a spot close enough to hear his thoughts, your breasts just inches apart from his chest.
“I really hope you’re not lying,” you whispered, your lips almost grazing his.
Jay let out a soft grunt before he pulled you by your wrist, and you yelped as he somehow managed to maneuver you to sit on his lap. You then kissed him first, pushing him back and letting his head rest on the seat cushion. Both his hands began riding up your thigh as you mercilessly dominated the kiss, quickly tangling your fingers in his gorgeous hair.
His hands moved to your ass to give it a squeeze and you moaned into his mouth, your body shaking and quickly succumbing to his touch. You began grinding on him, barely feeling his bulge, but as he began to dominate the kiss you heard feet shuffling right out the terrace.
“Jay?”
You jumped out of his lap at the sound and immediately made your way to the open kitchen, pretending to busy yourself. Jay cleared his throat and wiped away his saliva, or maybe yours, from his mouth. He stood up and walked over to one of the construction workers who called him, and you tried to observe them quietly as he spoke to him. He held himself with so much composure, almost like he did not even get caught making out with his tutor.
The worker then nodded, and Jay waved slightly at him, and you assumed that the man just gave Jay an update before excusing themselves for the day. You took a deep breath and held the empty glass you took in one hand while massaging your temple. You saw Jay making his way towards you with an apologetic smile on his face.
“Sorry again,” Jay said, standing on the opposite side of the counter. “I actually… don’t have anything else to say.”
You chuckled and looked down to avoid eye contact because you were sure that one more look from him would make you combust.
“Are you okay?” Jay asked, voice full of concern.
“I am, why?” You replied, confused.
Jay shook his head, unsure. “I just did not want to come off as a… I just hope you know that I’m not taking advantage of you, and I really don’t want you to feel—”
You began laughing softly and Jay had to stop speaking.
“Noona?”
“It’s fine,” you said as you began walking to him. You fixed a strand of his hair that was out of place from how much you were ruffling his hair earlier. “I’m okay.”
Jay kept his eyes on you, and you detected a different emotion. Before, you saw that it was lust, but now his eyes seemed hopeful.
“If you’re really okay with it,” Jay spoke, placing a hand behind his neck, “do you think it would be cool if we make it, like, a regular thing?”
“Elaborate, please.”
Jay chuckled softly. “I meant like, I think I could get motivated a lot if there was a reward waiting if I get a question right. Or if I reach a certain score in a mock test, don’t you think?”
You liked the idea very much that there was literally no reason to refuse. “I actually agree.”
“You do?” Jay started smiling widely. “Okay, cool, so the next meeting—”
“You’ll have to pick me up again after my class,” you interrupted, “and we’ll probably need some snacks here.”
Jay nodded firmly as if he had just negotiated a great deal. “Wait, Noona, you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”
You shook your head. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Of course not,” Jay scoffed. “I just didn’t want to get in between of anything.”
You pouted and nodded, understanding. “Well, you’d probably be getting in between something.”
Jay tilted his head in confusion, and you brought your hand to your thigh, patting it. Jay closed his eyes and sighed. You giggled at his reaction.
“This session is over. You need to drive me back,” you demanded, placing the glass you were holding the whole time back on the counter.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Jay muttered before winking at you and turning around to go grab his car keys. You rolled your eyes before following him.
---
To say that you could not wait for your next session with Jay would be an understatement. You were literally counting the days, down to the minute, and you were checking your phone a ridiculous number of times just so you could respond to his chats in an instant. When he picked you up and you saw him getting out of the car to open the door for you, your heart was beating like a drum.
It was understandable, and pretty logical, actually. You had not been intimate with anyone in a long time, and Jay was, quite frankly, fucking hot. It did not help that he was intelligent as well, which was definitely your type. Your heart was racing, and your mind was imagining a thousand different scenarios that you did not even realize that you had arrived at Jay’s place.
You quickly noticed the absence of noise when you stepped out of the car. Jay walked up to the door and looked back at you, noticing how you were also silent.
“It’s a day off for the workers, today,” Jay explained, “it’s just you and me.”
“Thank God,” you muttered.
Jay chuckled. “What?”
“Did I just say that out loud?” You asked back in shock.
Jay laughed, genuinely finding you amusing. “You said it under your breath, but I heard it.”
“How embarrassing,” you said to yourself as you entered the house after him.
“On the contrary,” Jay responded, “I find it adorable.”
For this session, you decided to stay as farther away from Jay as possible, to let him focus and also to clear your mind. He was doing a mock test on his laptop after he received major feedback on his homework essay, and you took the time to wander around his kitchen and check his supplies.
“I can hear you opening the cabinets,” Jay spoke in a louder tone, all the way from the living room.
“Don’t mind me,” you shouted back. “Just focus if you want to get a good score.”
“What was the reward again?” Jay asked, smiling to himself as he scanned the question on his screen.
“A make out session if you reach 7,” you reminded him despite knowing full well that he just wanted you to recite it back to him. “And if you reach 8, I’ll give you a blowjob.”
“Fuck,” Jay muttered to himself.
You were unsure if it was because the thought made him unable to focus, or if he was actually struggling to answer the questions. After a few more minutes, he finally finished his Reading mock test, and you walked over to check his score.
“Noona, I present to you,” Jay began speaking, proudly, “a 7.5.”
Your eyebrows knitted as you observed the screen and scanned the page, checking Jay’s answers and matching them with the answer key. Meanwhile, Jay was leaning back and stretching his arms up, cracking his neck and basically doing preparations as if he was about to run a marathon.
“Good job,” you said, pushing the laptop towards the center of the table. You then turned around only to find him sitting comfortably on the sofa, arms to his side and his lap looking so inviting.
“Can I get my reward now?” He asked, eyes glowing and expecting.
“I’ll count it as a 7, since we never agreed on anything if you get a .5 score,” you said, taking the scrunchie from your wrist and tying your hair up in a messy bun.
“I’ll take anything,” Jay whispered, his arms welcoming you as you carefully straddled him.
You paused to place your hands on the sides of his face, and you bit your lower lip slightly before you leaned into him. His lips greeted yours warmly, and you could not help but sigh into his mouth once you felt his heat envelop you. Jay roamed his hands around your waist, up to your back, and lingering on your shoulders for a moment, pushing you even closer to him.
“Fuck,” he muttered into your lips. “You taste so good, Noona.”
You smiled and kissed him even harder, hoping it would translate into gratitude. You felt his fingers going under your shirt, grazing your skin and you shivered at his touch. He continued kissing you, licking your lips, tugging on your tongue, teeth slightly clashing with yours when the two of you got way too passionate. His fingers tugged your bra and he pulled away only to ask you a question.
“Can I?” He spoke, voice raspy from the lack of air. You wanted it just as much as him, so you nodded quietly.
He unhooked your bra with one hand and immediately moved his hand to the front, squeezing your tits as he continued to devour your lips. You began moaning helplessly, and you could feel him growing hard against your core.
“Jay,” you whined, “your reward is just a make out session.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I know, but doesn’t this feel so good?”
You felt him pinch your hard nipple slightly and you flinched before giggling, hiding your blushing face in the crook of his neck. You realized that he had a birthmark there, so you began kissing it, then licking it, then sucking on it, and only then did Jay let out a moan that sounded new to you.
“Noona,” he said, breathless. “We need to establish clearer rules and rewards.”
You kissed him all the way up to his jawline before meeting his lips again. “What do you mean?” You spoke against his lips.
“How about,” Jay said, pausing to groan since he felt his hard-on getting too restricted against his jeans. “For 7.5, I get to finger you?”
You pulled away from him to look him in the eyes and chuckled. “That sounds like more of a reward for me than it is for you.”
“But I really want it,” Jay confessed. “Please let me finger you.”
“Now?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders.
Jay nodded. “Aren’t you wet yet?”
He took the liberty to slide his hand under your pants, which happened to be elastic, thank God, and placed two fingers right along your slit. You elicited a whimper, and Jay could swear that you even shuddered at the sudden contact.
“You are,” Jay announced boldly. “Would you let me?”
His palm was right on your core anyway, and you thought that it would be stupid of you to refuse since he was already making you feel so good. Besides, his argument made sense.
“Okay,” you answered breathlessly, and within a second Jay was pulling your pants down to the floor.
“Seamless,” he commented as he eyed your panties. “Why am I not surprised?”
You shook your head and chuckled. “Why? Do you prefer a lacey thong?”
Jay stroked the inside of your thighs gently as he guided you by your waist to sit back down on the sofa, letting him hover his body over you.
“I would actually prefer nothing,” Jay whispered before closing the gap between your lips.
You felt his tongue enter your mouth and his fingers slipping inside of you almost at the same time, and the immense pleasure made you arch your back. His two fingers curled up inside you, making a ‘come hither’ motion that somehow felt gentle and harsh at the same time. He was moving his fingers at a slow pace, but the pressure he put on made you see stars.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, reaching for Jay’s arms to hold on to. “Jay…”
He loved the way you moaned his name, so he curled his fingers one more time and you whimpered, feeling your legs beginning to shake.
“Fuck,” you muttered again, tilting your head to the side, and letting Jay leave love bites along your neck. “Fuck, Jay, I’m gonna cum.”
“Please do,” he whispered into your ear, maintaining his pace the moment you told him so.
When you finally reached your high, your legs were shaking, and your body was spasming, and Jay had to wipe the sweat that formed on your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear at the same time. His hand was drenched, and you could feel your cum trickling down onto the sofa.
“Oh my God, sorry,” you said in an instant.
Jay shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said calmly, waiting for you to catch your breath before he deemed it was time to pull his fingers out of you. When he did, you watched as he stared at them, two fingers glistening with your essence. He brought his hand up to his mouth and took a sniff before tasting it. The sight made you roll your eyes back.
“It’s unfair,” Jay began, “the way you taste as good as you smell.”
“God,” you said to yourself, and Jay laughed lowly, proud of how he was able to render you speechless. “What about you now?”
Jay tilted his head and then looked down at the obvious tent in his pants. “Oh, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it later.”
“In that case,” you said, pushing his chest slightly so he could move away from you. You tugged down your panties that had stayed on the whole time, and when you took them off your ankles you handed them to Jay.
“For later.”
You smiled as he took your panties in his hand, and you cackled the moment he took a sniff dramatically.
“Thanks, Noona,” Jay said, leaning in to leave a quick peck on your cheek. “Time to drive you back now.”
---
The next couple of meetings were spent in the same manner, more or less. Jay would try his best to get a score as high as he could, but he would never go over 7.5, so all you did was make out with him in his living room, in his bedroom, or even in his car on the ride back to campus. He took it like a champ, though, and he never insisted on taking things further than what you had previously agreed on.
You had one meeting left with him before his scheduled test, and you were dreading the day. Usually, you would be looking forward to meeting him, but all things come to an end, even private lessons, so you halfheartedly dolled yourself up in front of the mirror in your faculty’s restrooms, still determined to look your best for your favorite student.
The car ride to his house was spent in comfortable silence, and you did not mind the way his hand reached for your thigh, resting it there as he rubbed his thumb along your skin. You were wearing a short skirt for a change, and you loved the way it had caught his attention in an instant. Once you arrived, Jay took you by your hand and led you straight to his bedroom for privacy, since the workers were currently at his house.
“Noona,” he called for you before starting the mock test on his computer. You were halfway making yourself comfortable on his bed. “Can you sit with me while I do this?”
“Where?” You walked towards him.
He spun his chair towards you and patted his lap. “Here.”
You chuckled. “Why?”
“It’s our last meeting and I want to be close to you.”
You were underestimating the effects of his words and you felt like your stomach did a flip. You never shied away from his advances, though, so doing it now would be weird. And you did not want it to backfire and end up demotivating him.
“Okay,” you said, turning around before you carefully sat on his lap. You had to adjust your position several times to make sure he was comfortable, and he wrapped an arm around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder as he began the test.
“You can answer in your mind if you want,” Jay said, tilting his chin towards the screen.
You answered by reaching your hand back to stroke his hair, and he hummed in delight as he began answering the test. Eventually, you leaned your back towards his chest and sat comfortably, almost falling asleep from his warmth. You eyed the screen and noticed that he was about to answer a question wrong, so you placed your hand over his and moved the mouse to the right option.
“Isn’t this cheating?” He asked, genuinely unsure.
“I’m giving you a pass, Jay,” you answered calmly, patting his cheek.
After a while, he finished his mock test, and you saw the results come up as soon as he clicked next.
“You did it,” you said, staring at the screen. “That’s an 8.”
You noticed that Jay was silent for too long, and then you realized you had sat on his lap for too long, so you quickly stood up and stretched your legs, smoothing your skirt down.
“Are you ready for your reward?” You asked, eyes full of anticipation.
Jay licked his lips and shook his head. You immediately frowned.
“I feel like if you hadn’t corrected that one question, I would still get a 7.5,” Jay confessed. “It’s okay, I’ll skip the reward.”
“What?” You said, almost spitting your words out. You did not know why his refusal got you so worked up.
“Noona,” he began, reaching for your hands as he stood up from his seat. “I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me, but I also don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
You continued to frown, waiting for him to elaborate.
“I’ve loved the sessions we had, and I’m really thankful for all the rewards, but I need you to know that my goal remains the same, and it’s to get the highest score possible. The test is in a week, and I need to remain focused.”
He really did it, you thought. He used you to his advantage until he didn’t need you anymore.
But you knew that, deep inside. You knew that this way of giving him motivation would be dangerous, more for you than for him. You knew that Jay is a professional and that he takes his studies seriously, so you knew that catching feelings would be out of the picture for him.
Sadly, you forgot to set the boundaries for yourself.
You really thought that you could keep it casual, and you really thought that you were not going to start having feelings for him since it had been ages anyway since you had loved someone, so why does his professionalism hurt you? When in fact, you should be thankful that he respected you?
Your mind was running a mile a minute thinking of possible scenarios, and his face was becoming concerned. Eventually, you managed to fake a smile and you nodded before you said your response.
“As expected,” you began, “from the top student in class.”
Jay blinked, not expecting you to remember the one fun fact that Heeseung had told you about him.
“Your essays have improved so much since the first meeting. Your speaking is fine, just remember not to use fillers too much. You have no problem with the listening section, and for reading, I suggest you keep practicing during the few days before the test.”
Now, Jay was the one with a frown on his face. He was wondering why you were acting so formally again.
“I’ll text you good luck before the test, and when the results are out, tell me your score,” you continued.
“If I get over 7.5—”
“I’ll treat you to lunch.”
Jay scrunched his nose. “Pardon?”
“I’ll treat you to a nice lunch, okay? My pick this time,” you said with a smile so convincing that it was hard for him not to smile back.
“Okay,” Jay smiled back at you, trying to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice.
---
Days had passed by since Jay took his test, and even since the results of it came out. You held back from texting him first since he never responded to your good luck text on the day of his test. You then swallowed the bitter fact that, maybe, or most likely, Jay really was using you and your dumb self had consented to it.
But it could not be, you convinced yourself. He was a gentleman. Would he really do that?
You gave up trying to find answers that might make you feel better, so you decided to busy yourself with other freelance work that came your way. You felt bad turning down the other students that Heeseung had referred you to, and you had to come up with lame excuses like you had no time or you had way too much on your plate.
The real reason was that everything about the test prep now reminds you of Jay, and you would not want to take out your anger and disappointment on your new student. You thought it was best to stop tutoring for a while until you had completely moved on.
One of the latest gigs that got you a little too excited was speaking for a panel discussion in a workshop that was related to your teaching experience on campus. Previously, you attended these events as a participant, sitting in the audience and actively taking notes and recording the speakers, but now you get to see it from the other side of the stage, and you could not help but feel proud of yourself.
You dressed your best to impress, for once not dressing for yourself but for the audience, and when you sat in between the other speakers on stage you became so engrossed that you almost did not realize the familiar figure sitting on the front row but at the farthest chair from the stage.
Jay noticed you looking at him, so he threw you a soft smile and a tiny wave with his hand. You smiled and quickly turned towards the host who had called out your name to address a question. You answered the question and looked at the other speakers on your side, and you were glad that they were nodding along to your response, signaling that you had indeed answered the question correctly.
Surprisingly, it was not hard to stay focused on the rest of the discussion. Jay sat pretty far from your sight, so all you had to do was look anywhere except in his direction. You did look at him one more time, though, and you caught him looking at the huge screen that was focusing on your face as you were speaking. You almost sighed in relief a little too loudly when the session ended, and you gathered your belongings as well as your thoughts as the other people swarmed towards the outside of the hall.
You could feel someone approaching you from behind, and when you turned around Jay was looking at you with a soft gaze in his eyes.
“Noona,” he said.
“Hey, Jay,” you greeted him back.
“Listen, can I speak to you somewhere else private?” He asked before looking around and spotting several people still lingering inside the hall.
“This seems private enough,” you said as you looked around too. “I barely know anyone here.”
Jay became visibly uncomfortable, and you instantly felt bad.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I can drive you home and we can talk on the way, or—”
“Or, you can come up with me to my room,” you suggested.
Jay’s mouth was slightly open as he tried to process your words.
“I am staying here for the weekend. You don’t have to drive me anywhere,” you said with a smile, turning around to grab your bag. Your heart was beating a little too fast to your liking.
Jay tailed you and kept silent as you both waited for the elevator to open. Once it did, you entered and he followed behind you, waiting until the doors closed before he finally began to speak.
“I got an 8.5,” Jay said, looking down at the floor.
Your eyes widened. “Jay, that’s amazing!”
“I’m sorry,” he then said.
You were confused. “What?”
The elevator dinged and two people came inside. You decided to wait until you reached your floor to continue the conversation.
“I’ll explain once we’re inside, I promise,” Jay said as he matched your pace, walking beside you until you reach your door.
His face instantly switched from worried to wonder when he realized that you were walking all the way to the end of the hall.
“The event gave you a suite?” Jay asked, pure curiosity getting the best of him.
You could not help but chuckle. “No, I upgraded myself. Come in.”
As soon as you closed the door, you felt Jay pull your hand before he quickly trapped you between his body and the wall. You did not even have the time to be surprised because the next thing you knew his lips were latched onto yours, and your body betrayed you by reciprocating him and pulling him closer to you.
Jay quickly pulled away when he felt your fingers hooked on his belt. You licked your lips and let your eyes search for his.
“I’m sorry, I owe you an explanation,” Jay said, rubbing his hand on your waist. “I shouldn’t have lunged at you like this.”
You cleared your throat and fixed your hair, gently pushing him away from you before you made your way to the loveseat in the center of the room.
“Have a seat,” you replied, sitting on the sofa yourself and bringing your legs up to your chest.
Jay sat down and took his bag off, letting it fall to the floor as he let out a huge sigh.
“I don’t know where to start,” he confessed.
“Take your time,” you responded, stretching your arm and leaning your head on it. “Maybe start with why you didn’t reply to my texts?”
“I lost my phone,” Jay began. “Literally the night before the test. I had no time to get a new one, and I didn’t want to get distracted, so I just went on and took the test. Right after, though, my professor… that jackass…”
Your eyes widened at Jay’s frustrated insult, and you had to hold back a smile.
“It was just class after class, task after task, I really did not have the time or mental capacity to get back to you, and I don’t want you to think that I consider you as less of a priority, because I don’t, and I really tried to ask Heeseung for your number again, but it’s… you know what? These are excuses. I don’t want to give you excuses.”
You frowned but at the same time, an amused smile was slowly creeping up your face.
“I should have contacted you the minute I could, but I didn’t, and I let other stuff take up my time. That’s my mistake. I’m sorry.”
“Alright, apology accepted,” you said, tapping your fingers on the sofa.
Jay looked at you in confusion. “Really? That easy?”
You clicked your tongue and tilted your head. “That still does not explain why you kissed me a second ago, though.”
“Right,” Jay continued. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Right.”
You chuckled lightly and adjusted your position. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Because you’re so fucking gorgeous, and I have feelings for you but I’m not sure you have the same.”
You held a hand over your mouth in shock. “Jay,” you mumbled.
“You understood me wrongly,” he continued. “The day of our last meeting when I said I needed to remain focused. I was trying to confess to you.”
Your eyes were looking into his and you nodded once, telling him to continue.
“I really did not want you to think that I was taking advantage of you. I just grew to like you a lot, and you can’t even imagine how fucking relieved I was when you agreed to my proposal of rewards. Every single time I spent with you only deepened my feelings even more, and I…”
Jay paused to look at you, and you straightened your position.
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Rambling when I’m nervous?” Jay said, almost stuttering towards the end of his sentence.
You smiled to yourself before you pushed your body up. You made your way to his side and sat close beside him, touching your thigh with his.
“Well, let me tell you that I’m fucking relieved that you’re here to straighten things out,” you stated, resting a hand on his thigh. “Because guess what?”
You ended your question by inching your face closer to his.
“What?” He muttered under his breath.
“I have feelings for you, too.”
Jay sighed out of relief and smiled before he leaned in to kiss you, and as his hands found their place on your waist, you moved to straddle him. You were both in a familiar position, taking you back to the hours you would spend at his house, making out with him as a reward.
“Noona,” he spoke against your lips in between kisses. “When I said if I get more than 7.5, I was going to say I wanted to eat you out.”
You broke down laughing against his lips and you had to move your face to his neck so he wouldn’t choke on your breaths.
“You just had to interrupt me and say that you were going to treat me to lunch,” Jay continued before bringing your face back up and devouring your lips again. “You kind of owe me.”
You hummed against his lips and guided his hands to go underneath your shirt. He unhooked your bra with ease before moving his hands to cup both your breasts.
“God,” you muttered, grinding your hips harder against his crotch.
“Noona,” Jay breathed, moving his hand to unbutton your shirt. “Can’t you moan my name instead?”
“Oh, Jay,” you whispered, chuckling when you see him smile as your hands cupped his face. “You sweet little thing.”
Jay had managed to take both your bra and your shirt off in an instant, and you brought his head closer to your breasts so he could fondle them with his mouth. You moaned louder as he nibbled on your nipple, grinding faster against his hips and placing your hands firmly on his head.
“Why don’t I treat you to lunch now?” You proposed, tugging his hair and making him look up at you.
Jay nodded and you moved away from his lap, standing up and bringing him to his feet too. You started unbuttoning his shirt as you walked backwards, leading him towards the bed. He placed his hands firmly on your waist, letting you do your thing. Once the back of your legs hit the bed, you sat down and took off your panties and trousers in one go. Jay immediately kneeled in front of you.
“I still have your panties, Noona,” he said as you rested your legs comfortably on his shoulder.
“What do you do with it?” You asked, challenging him.
“I touch myself with it and imagine doing this to you.”
His lips brushed against your folds without warning, and you immediately fell back to the bed, lying down. He kissed your clit before running his tongue along your slit, and the warmth and wetness of his mouth drove you crazy. You began pulling on his hair, determined to get him even closer, and he reacted by hooking his arm around your thighs, humming as he lapped up your arousal.
“Jay,” you whimpered. “You’re doing so good.”
He began making loud wet noises deliberately, knowing how it would make you moan louder, and when you were squirming under his touch he inserted a finger, all the while toying with your clit using his tongue.
“Fuck!” You hissed, arching your back and lifting your ass from the bed. “Don’t stop, Jay, please.”
You pressed the ball of your foot against Jay’s back as he continued to eat you out, taking you to your first high of the night and cumming against his mouth. You were breathing loudly, panting so much like the air was sucked out of you. Jay squeezed your thigh before unlatching his lips, then he gently caressed your folds with his fingers, collecting the remains of your cum before licking them dry.
“Come here,” you begged, your hands reaching out for nothing until he moved and placed himself between your legs.
Jay leaned down and began kissing your jaw, and you took the liberty of unbuckling his belt and tugging his pants down as he devoured your neck. You felt the bulge underneath his boxers and almost froze at the contact.
“What’s wrong?” Jay asked, noticing how you stopped moving for a split second.
“You’re…” You tried your best to look down at his crotch. “You’re fucking huge.”
Jay was the one with a breathy chuckle now, amused at your reaction.
“That’s because it’s hard, and that’s because of you, Noona.”
“Fuck me, then,” you replied, bringing one hand to squeeze his biceps. “Literally, please.”
“Wait, let me just…”
Jay moved away from you to reach inside the pockets of his pants before kicking it off then he pulled his boxers off completely, and only then you realized he was holding a condom.
“That condom was in your pocket this whole time?” You asked in disbelief. “Were you expecting this to happen?”
“Noona,” Jay looked at you with a smirk. “You know how driven I am.”
“Oh my God,” you retorted, chuckling and covering your eyes with your arm. “Can’t believe I fell for it.”
Jay unwrapped the condom and slid it down his length with ease.
“Staying safe, are we?” You asked with a smile as you welcomed him back into your embrace.
“Well, I’m a med student, so…”
“Okay, enough, let’s just fuck.”
Jay kissed your face a couple more times until it got annoying because he was clearly stalling. You grabbed his face and he chuckled, biting his lower lip.
“You’re really pretty,” he confessed all of a sudden.
“And you’re hot as fuck, so can you just fuck me please?”
Jay nodded and kissed you with a smile, aligning his tip with your slit. “Take a deep breath,” he whispered.
You did as he said, and you were glad you did. Jay filled you up and once again you had underestimated your own predictions. Back when you were still just making out and straddling him, you only had a faint idea of his size, and he was wearing loose pants all the time, so it was not like you were able to tell easily. Your breath became shaky as you felt him bottom out, and he brought his hand up to caress your face.
“Tell me if it’s okay to move,” he whispered ever so gently before kissing your nose.
You opened your eyes and found him staring at you. You were breathing from your mouth, so he tilted his head to kiss your cheek softly. After that, you reached your hands under his arms, latched them on his shoulders, and then you nodded.
He pulled out of you and thrusted back in gently, and the force already had you gasping for air. Once he found a steady rhythm, you began matching his pace, thrusting your hips upwards and meeting him halfway. It was impossible to hold back your moans, and if you weren’t moaning you were whimpering, or breathing his name with every stroke he made.
“I’m close, Noona,” he spoke against your lips.
You nodded and ran your fingers through his hair. “Me too.”
Jay began increasing his pace, thrusting into you with a little more force. He looked down and placed a hand under your thigh, keeping your leg secure beside him. He then looked up at you to check if you were still okay. You licked your lips and pulled him into a kiss. His thrusts soon began to grow sloppy, and after he finally released his seed, your walls clenched around his shaft, letting him know that you had reached your high too.
You slowly try to catch your breath, and Jay kissed you once more before pulling out of you, careful not to make a mess. He took the condom off and tied it before quickly chucking it in the bin, and he made himself comfortable lying beside you. Your hand was looking a little lonely, so he took it and intertwined his fingers with yours.
The two of you sat in silence as both your chests heaved up and down. You turned your head to look at Jay and he was closing his eyes as if he was savoring the moment. You scooted closer to him, taking your hand away but letting him wrap you in his arms.
“So, what are we?” You asked in the most straightforward manner.
Jay’s heavy breaths turned into a chuckle, and soon after you were both just laughing like idiots madly in love.
-END-
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starwrighter · 8 months
Text
Dude, get a restraining order
(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)
(As promised Damian falls in love at first sight!)
Minutes ticked by like hours as his English teacher droned on about topics he’d learned years ago. Surface-level information dumbed down to its simplest form. Todd had already given him the assigned book years ago. A classic written sometime in the 1950s. He’d claimed it’d be a book he could relate to. He’d quizzed himself, writing an essay to prove he actually read it when Todd came around again. 
He guessed that’s why when the discussions of symbolism and deeper meanings started, his interest plummeted. He focused on a worksheet, only half listening as the teacher read aloud. Vocabulary and its context, all of it so dull. painfully easy, but still father wouldn’t allow him to skip grades, nor would the school. Something about him having “Poor social skills,”
Tch, lies and slander. It wasn’t his fault his classmates were too cowardly to speak to him face to face. They’d been the ones to label him as intimidating and cold. If not being a spineless pushover made him intolerable, then he didn't want to be friendly. He wouldn’t allow himself to be taken advantage of, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone talk down to him without facing the consequences. 
He didn't need to be social with these hooligans. A waste of time! Plus, he’s certain everyone in class already held a certain distaste for him. It’d be better if he was homeschooled, but father said he needed to be seen by the public so the media wouldn't talk. Journalists and tabloid writers were like vultures they'd squawk regardless if he was in school or not. Father hadn't seen his argument valid so he was stuck with yet another year of this dull nonsense.
A new transfer student from a small town in Illinois should be here today. An outsider spending a whole seven months in Gotham, it should be equal parts entertaining as it’d be inconvenient. The backlash that’d hit them if they let said transfer student die within city borders would be tremendous. He could only hope this Daniel Fenton wasn’t just late and instead backed out like any sensible person would.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case as the teacher stepped outside, coming back with a smile of faux sweetness on their face, waving her hand, signaling someone inside.
A boy with eyes blue like sapphire stones stepped into the classroom. His shoulders lax but the way he fidgeted in place screamed he’d rather be anywhere but here. His features were soft, electrical scaring running down the left side of his face, creeping down the boy’s chin and neck. Hair pitch black with short splotches of white-ish gray framed his face. A small silver necklace shaped like Saturn hung from his neck, a clear dress code violation, but clearly, he hadn’t been accosted for it yet. Their teacher encouraged him to introduce himself.
“Hi, My name’s Danny and I hope I don’t die here,” Daniel joked, his posture jovial despite the morbidity of his words.
“Though, I wouldn’t be shocked if I did,” He finished, earning a quiet chuckle from those who could see the boy’s scars. 
Daniel glanced around the front row, eyes landing on the empty spot beside him. Daniel quickly took this spot without hesitation, ignoring the multiple students who waved him over with a simple gesture to the left side of his face.
With a closer view of Daniel's left eye, he could see the slight milky discoloration of the pupil and iris. He's likely blind in that eye, but the circumstances of him being born with the impairment are unlikely, judging by the damage around his eye socket. It had healed well for what he could only infer was a grievous injury. The scar tissue looked fresh, no older than a year or so, signaling this partial blindness was relatively new.
He seemed relieved that the teacher was reading out loud like nobody had offered him any sort of accommodation for his disability. Considering Daniel came from a small town in Illinois, he doubted any school accommodations were made for him besides maybe a week or so off school when he was recovering. Gotham wasn’t much better, but Father poured a decent amount into the city’s healthcare and educational systems. 
“Tuck your necklace under your shirt,” He whispered to his new seatmate when the teacher turned her back. “It breaks the dress code, you’ll never get it back if a teacher spots it,” A warning deadly serious, a bit stern for something as frivolous as a piece of jewelry, but Daniel looked as if that simple warning had saved his life. Daniel shoved the necklace under his dress shirt with alarming speed, tucking the thin, bronze chain beneath his collar, making the boy’s neck look deceptively bare. 
They both continued their work in silence, mutual respect between the two of them to stay out of each other’s way. When Daniel’s pencil lead broke, Damian offered him a sharpener. When their teacher called on him despite his hand being down, Danny answered instead, giddy that “he” was called on. Giving the English teacher the easy choice of admitting she was targeting students or playing the part of a welcoming teacher eager to have the half-blind kid engage with her class.
Daniel did it on purpose too, that was sure. He made class time more bearable that was certain as well. The way his seatmate engaged the subject in an intelligent manner despite frequent mutters of English not “being his subject,” was admirable.
When brought into discussion, Daniel meshed with his new peers relatively quickly, quick to snap in with a clever quip when the opportunity arose. He was by no means a social butterfly but fell into the rhythm of a conversation with practiced ease. 
Often, when not writing he fidgeted, picking at black and white polish on his nails or twirling a pencil between two fingers. He’d rest his face on his palm and pursed his lips when confused. Though his mannerisms were somewhat awkward, some might call them cute.
It wasn‘t long until class was over, the bell calling all the students to coagulate by the door, slowly filing into the hallway. All except him and Daniel, who stared at a schedule and a map with furrowed brows. They shared their next class too, an idea that filled him with an odd giddiness.
Damian pulled a copy of his own schedule from his bag, tapping Daniels's shoulder and showing him their matching second-hour classes.
“It would be easier if we went together,” 
Daniel smiled, canines sharpened to a point. His heart boomed in his chest, a strange but…Pleasant experience. It was too early to tell, but he thinks he’ll enjoy having Daniel here for the next seven months.
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simpingsavant · 4 months
Text
Late Night
Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader
Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.
Word Count: 6.4k
A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3
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Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.
Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.
The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.
“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.
The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.
You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.
Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.
You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.
Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.
From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 
Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 
Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.
For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?
Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.
In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.
So far, you only got:
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How’s your night going?”
“Good, and you?”
“Fine. Do you want a bag?”
“No, I have my backpack.”
“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”
Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.
“Have a good one.”
“You too.”
His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.
During your third month, that reason finally came.
He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”
“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.
“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.
“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.
“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”
“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”
“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.
“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.
He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”
“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.
Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.
“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.
“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”
He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.
“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”
“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.
You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.
You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.
“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”
“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”
You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.
“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”
“What’s at five?”
“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”
“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”
“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.
~~
Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.
The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.
You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.
Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.
“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.
“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”
“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”
“Yeah?”
“Interesting.”
The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”
Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”
“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.
“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”
“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”
“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”
“Don’t say that stuff.”
“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”
You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?
“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.
“Yes, actually—”
You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.
Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?
After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.
~~
“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.
The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.
“I finally finished with inventory.”
He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.
12:56
“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 
“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”
“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”
“For sure. See you tomorrow.”
“Later,” Michael says.
He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.
You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.
You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.
You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.
This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.
His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.
“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.
“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.
“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”
“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”
“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”
“Is this your final year?”
“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”
There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.
You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.
“Are you still working here over the summer?”
“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.
God, you wanted him so bad.
“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”
“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”
His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.
“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.
“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”
With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.
The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.
“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.
“Oh, right.”
Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.
“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.
“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”
You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 
Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.
You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.
They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.
“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”
“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.
“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.
“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”
“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.
“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”
“Damn, sounds like an ass.”
“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”
“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.
The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.
“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”
“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.
Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.
He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.
~~
When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.
“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.
Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.
“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.
“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.
“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.
God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.
“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.
After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.
As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?
“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.
“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”
“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”
“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.
“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”
“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”
You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.
“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.
You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.
“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.
“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.
You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.
You can deal with this on your own just fine.
The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.
“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.
“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”
You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”
“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.
You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”
“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”
You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.
“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”
Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.
Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.
“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.
With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.
“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”
The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.
“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.
“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”
“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”
“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”
“I was staying safe,” You defend.
“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”
“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.
“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”
“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.
“What?”
“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.
“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.
His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.
“How often does this happen?”
“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”
Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”
“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”
Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.
“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.
2:21
“Damn, that’s a long time.”
“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”
When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”
“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.
“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”
“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”
“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.
The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.
“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”
“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.
You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.
“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”
“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.
“Your pick, I guess."
You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.
“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.
“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.
When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 
“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.
“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”
“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”
“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”
A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”
Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”
“What?”
He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.
“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”
Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”
“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”
The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”
“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”
You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.
“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.
“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”
“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”
“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”
Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”
“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”
You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”
“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”
“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”
Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”
You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.
“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.
“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.
“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”
“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”
“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”
“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”
“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”
“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”
“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”
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aniharas · 1 month
Text
𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘩.𝘤.'𝘴 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦)
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pairing: obsessed!down bad!felix catton x fem!reader
summary: felix's lack of control over his deep feelings for you, his revisions partner, begins to spiral him into a sick and twisted sense of keeping you as his.
warnings: explicit language, sexual tension & content, themes of purity and corruption, use of cigarettes and alcohol
wc: 2.1k+
Maybe Felix Catton wasn’t the mindless pretty boy at Oxford like everyone had chalked him up to be. Maybe he was, at least until he saw you.
At first, he wasn’t exactly the most excited when he found out his revisions partner was you, a scholarship girl. A first-class student. Always buried in textbooks nonstop, always holed up with nerdy little books doing your nerdy little homework. He never found people like you any fun, so he braced himself for a snoozefest as you plopped down into the armchair beside him.
But Felix couldn’t have ever been more wrong about the pureness that was you. Sickly sweet, serene you. Skin tantalizingly covered by whatever shoddy arrangements Oxfam provided. Black-rimmed glasses with a prescription so high, it made your bambi-like eyes bulge out of your head. Voice so sugary, he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. You were a prude by all means, but you made it look so damn good. God forbid the tutor asked him anything about your essay, it was fuck all in his brain. And god forbid anyone asked him to make sense of what he felt for you.
And so he eagerly showed up to each revision. It started with the simplest of gestures. Holding the door open for you, carrying your books. He noticed you always walked home alone after each session at night, so he took it upon himself to escort you back to your dorm safely. 
And then it was gifts. Things that he could nonchalantly pass off as having extra of. Packaged sweets from the dining hall, an extra No. 2 pencil. He even tried to offer you a cigarette as the two of you strolled across campus. Of course, being the modest girl you were, you refused. He was glad that you did. You were responsible, you were good. He loved that about you.
But it wasn’t enough. Those brief, one-hour sessions were far from enough. Being the workaholic you were, you were hard to find around campus; that bit irked him. The whole “girl” thing was second-nature to him. They came to him in swarms, in fact. Why were you never there? That was fine with him, he liked the chase. He’d find a way.
“Tutor you? Felix, I think you’re doing fine–” “Codswallop, and you know it. You, on the other hand…you’re exceptional.” “I don’t think I’m exactly qualified enough-” “I do.”
And these newfound tutoring sessions were far better than what he had been getting. He never thought he’d look forward to being in a tutorial for hours in a stiff library chair, but the very thought consumed his waking days. Because it was you, dressed in your hand-me-down school jumper, brows adorably furrowed as you hastily scribbled notes across the margins of his essays. He wasn’t exactly the best at writing, but he occasionally found himself misspelling words just to see you get irritated with him. 
“Sometimes it slips my mind that you’re a rich kid. Until I remember we’re at Oxford and this is what you wrote,” you had said one time. Had it been from anyone else, he would’ve blown a fuse. But it was you, who always snuck in bites of your Crunchie between each sentence. You were so genuine, so oblivious to the world around you. He could never be upset with you.
Which is why he felt responsible for you. But how could he protect you when you were so elusive? He considered himself blessed if he found you at King’s Arms on the weekends, or anywhere at all. And blessed he was, on a Friday night, just before Oxford let out for the holidays.
It was you, accompanied by your trashy roommates. “Come on, just once before you go home,” they had whined as they pushed you through the doors. Upon this rare sighting, Felix decided that the story he was entertaining his table with was pointless, ceasing his conversation. It was like he was in a trance, the way he stood from his seat and gravitated toward you. Wordlessly, he plucked you away from your roommates. He figured you were better off with him.
It was clear that you weren’t used to any sort of bar culture, and while he found that endearing, he made sure to look over you. He booted a girl from his group just so he could seat you next to him, all while making sure you didn’t see the nasty glare she gave you. 
Assigning himself as your drink-sitter, he carefully scrutinized whatever you ended up drinking. Any strong liquors that came your way were quickly confiscated, much to Farleigh’s disdain (although he was placated once the extra shots were passed along to him). All you had to your name was a modest mug of beer, which you sipped at tentatively as you tried to make sense of the conversation around you.
You had gotten through one beer, though you were struggling about halfway through your refill. Despite that, Felix was in awe of you. The whining as he took the cup away, the mindlessly giggling at a joke one of the girls told, the fidgeting with the hem of your jumper. How could someone make drinking look so innocent? 
“My face is hot.” “You’ve got a buzz going. It’s quite a look.” “A good one or a bad one?” “A bit of a naughty one.” He quickly earned a punch in the arm from you.
And this was far better than the revisions or the tutoring. To finally discuss something other than academics with you was refreshing. He found himself recounting all of his stories, even the ones he had already told that night, just so he could hear you laugh at everything he said. It was a melody in his ears, a tiny bell jingling beside him.
Once the company began to fall out, Felix took you to get a breath of fresh air just beside the entrance of the pub. “D’you need anyone to take you home?” “Nooo, my roommates are heading back anyways.” “You sure? I can–” “Oh, you’re too kind. Why don’t you have a lover yet?”
The question was so forward and sudden, he couldn’t help but be surprised. You were definitely tipsy.  “Huh…haven’t given much thought to it.” “Well, you should.” “And that means?” “They’d be lucky.”
Felix couldn’t help it; he was out of control, cradling your face into his hands as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. They were indeed hot, you weren’t lying about that. There was silence, anticipation with a bated breath, and then your lips were all that he felt. If anyone was watching, and they most likely were, it was like he was holding himself back. Jaw tensed, muscles taut, brows scrunched. It almost looked like he was in pain.
And he was in pain, his restraint being tested every second he kissed you. Trying so desperately to not have his way with you, to take you home and screw you into his dorm mattress. That’s not the type of person you were.
But boy, did you make it difficult. The mere act of placing your hands against his chest, pressing your body against his. Again, painfully obvious this wasn’t something you did often, but that made it all the more perfect to him. He intended to keep you that way, which is why he let go.
The confusion that overtook your features made him regret his decision more and more, twisting his insides with guilt for leaving you hanging. Your lips, donning a soft shine, mouthed his name, but any sound went fuzzy in his ears. The more he stared at them, the more that forbidden feeling stirred inside of him.
Mumbling an apology, he abruptly stepped back, not even sure of what he was even doing. He had to get away, head home. It was ironic, to long for you so deeply but to hold himself back from indulging in you. He was never one to shy away from what he desired; it was his very nature, his reputation. But he couldn’t just use a girl like you to scratch one of his sexual itches, how could he bring himself to?
And so, Felix turned his back on you, not uttering another word. He pushed through the crowded walkway in a blind frenzy, ignoring the people who tried to strike up conversation. Never once looking back. 
Soon enough, he heaved the grand doors open to his hall, ready to sleep off the feeling until a sultry voice called to him from his right. Annabel. Apparently she had been waiting for him.
It wasn’t long before she was straddled across his lap, basically eating away at the lower half of his face as she eagerly fumbled with his belt buckle. That’s what turned him off about her. Too eager, too annoying. It played a part as to why he had kept his distance from her, but for that night, she was better than nothing.
As she slipped off his lap to kneel on the messy floor of his dorm, his mind drifted elsewhere. The desperate girl in front of him disappeared, then you were there, just as he left you. Staring up at him behind your obnoxious glasses, your bottom lip trembling. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Would you even know how to do this sort of thing? 
If he allowed himself, he’d guide you, gripping a part of your hair. Not tight enough to hurt you, of course, just enough to get leverage. He’d watch as your pretty lips parted to take him in, taking your sweet time. Your mouth would be soft and hot, your tongue shifting about awkwardly underneath him. He bet that you’d have it down quickly; you were good at most things, being a quick learner. Perhaps there would be a few scrapes from your canines as you bobbed up and down, if he were to be realistic. But the sting was more than alright with him.
Felix always prided in himself for his ability to give a girl a good, long time. Why else would they flock to him by the dozens? So what was so different about you that made him feel like he was already about to burst the seams?
Because it was still you, sickly sweet and serene you, lips wrapped around him and devouring him like the candy you always loved. Your eyes would water, but he’d gladly wipe away each drop that managed to escape. It left him a whiny mess. Sweat prickling at his forehead, ragged breaths heaving his shoulders up and down, white-knuckling your hair.
And when he’d come close, he’d let you know. You didn’t like being caught off-guard. Your heavy disdain for pop-quizzes or his endless pranks of sneaking up behind you made that apparent. But he prided himself in knowing these things about you, that he was able to gather it all from your little ramblings. 
You liked American reality TV. Disliked gel pens. Loved your chips overdone. A ridiculous query crossed his mind. Would you like spitting or swallowing? Or would you rather it all over you? From how your lips were glued to him, it seemed like swallowing. But that made him hesitate. You would never like such a thing. You were squeamish around anything sticky or slimy. Cough syrup, oily or tacky lotions…you hated them. As much as it dismayed him, why would this be any different?
Because it wasn’t you. And as soon as the girl he had taken back to his dorm reappeared, he knew that she could never be you. Nobody could. He was disgusted with himself for dirtying that memory of you. He had turned something so innocent into something so grossly erotic, and he knew he had crossed a line. How could he ever see you the same way again?
He was also disgusted with how Annabel seemed to not care despite his disillusion. She might have been the only girl he had seen that got off on merely sucking someone off. It was genuinely pathetic. Her head was swiftly yanked up, her lips making a “pop” sound.
“Alright, get out.” “What? But we’ve barely done anything, Fe–” “I don’t fuckin’ care. Piss the fuck off!”
Felix thought he would feel bad about kicking Annabel out, especially after she left in tears with her clothes haphazardly buttoned. But he could genuinely not have cared in the slightest; he was already preoccupied, mind filled with guilt after what he had done to you. But did he feel regret? No. That’s what ate at him the most. Someone like him shouldn’t have gone for someone like you. 
Perhaps it was better to try and forget that he kissed you. Kissing you meant opening the floodgates of his feelings, his debauchery. He had to keep that closed so that you could stay as pure as you always were. His perfect girl.
And he would do anything to keep you that way.
to be continued!
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a/n: dutifully fulfilling this request by my lovely anon. i wanted to delve more into the selfish, savior complex that he was and i DEFINITELY intend to take it deeper for the next part. again, thank you for the ask! co-written by @hellb4ts! leon, thank you for the many wonderful ideas. and you're welcome for introducing you to saltburn &lt;3 inbox is open for any asks or reqs !
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masterlist
put yourself on my taglist here!
@vannyangelxoxo @lilyrachelcassidy
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jebewonmorelike · 1 year
Text
Hao You Like That?
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wc: 2.6k (guys i can't stop writing 2.6k words pls send help and love) pronouns: none used; n/a (if u find any that i wrote by mistake, pls let me know) warnings: none? a bit angsty, a bit fluffy... a mention of drinking, bullying/jealousy, food... maybe a swear or two? ricky pops up at the end, but that's not a warning it's a very pleasant surprise summary: oh no, you guys. trainee!reader is zhang hao's arch nemesis... i hope they aren't secretly harboring romantic feelings for eachother! ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ Not ready for eliminations guys. I think all of my top picks are safe (I'm getting so worried about Jay though), but I truly love ALL of those boys so much. I can't wait to see what they all do next. Can't believe we'll have Bep1er in like two weeks...
"(Y/N)!"
You chew your cheeks silently as your dance teacher shouts your name, bracing yourself for the inevitable criticism.
He glares at you a moment, before snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the formation. “Stand there.”
You glance at Zhang Hao, the trainee that is currently standing at center and who also happens to be your arch nemesis. Zhang Hao had always been the darling of your company, an extremely talented dancer, vocalist and notable visual. But the first day you walked through your company’s doors as a fresh-faced trainee with an enviable skillset, Zhang Hao had suddenly found himself faced with real competition for the first time since he started training.
So for the past year it’s been a constant professional battle between the two of you, but on more than one occasion things had felt quite personal. When you were awarded center and main vocalist in your training group’s number for the company showcase in the spring, you woke up the morning of the performance to a large rash around your collarbone and running up both of your arms. Come to find out, Zhang Hao had exploited your well-known allergy to nickel and switched your costume jewelry for the performance with his.
This offense, of course, called for payback of equal or higher severity. When Zhang Hao was selected to perform solo for investors last fall, you spread a rumor around the company that he still wet the bed. The rumor spread so far that when Zhang Hao took center stage, one of the investors asked the CEO loudly, "Oh, this is the bed-wetter boy you were talking about?"
Hao is absolutely fuming right now and you can tell by the lack of expression on his face. No visible reaction from him always meant you'd be paying for whatever you earned later.
He steps aside as you take center, moving to your previous spot as you run the dance this way for your teacher. You give it your all, but you're admittedly a bit surprised to be considered for center for "How You Like That". You had been up all night for a week trying to finish an essay for your Sociology class and you hadn't stayed at the company past nine for the last three days. Practicing this dance had been low on your list of priorities.
As you hit your final pose, your teacher nods thoughtfully. He always looks so angry that you can never tell what he's really thinking until he says it out loud.
"I think we should put it up to a vote," he says decidedly.
Your eyes find Hao's quickly, a look of surprise on his face mirroring yours. "A vote?"
Your teacher claps his hands together. "A vote. You can practice for 24 hours. And tomorrow at this time, you'll both battle it out and the whole company will vote on it."
You swallow hard. "This is a terrible idea."
"What? Afraid you can't beat me?" Hao challenges with a smirk.
You study him for a second: his stupid (perfect) hair, his stupid (fashionable) outfit, his stupid (handsome) face. You know very well that he hates this idea as much as you do, if not more.
Your status as the top two trainees at the company made you both targets of jealousy and bullying, often leaving you feeling ostracized from much of the group. Funnily enough, Zhang Hao was probably the only person who could really understand how you feel most days, so it was both ironic and a real shame that he hated you most of all.
"No. I'm afraid of what will happen to me when I do," you reply, folding your arms as you turn your attention back to the front of the room.
Your teacher sighs in disbelief. "You two are the most annoying students I've ever had. Talented... But so irritating."
Some trainees behind you laugh while your teacher dismisses the group practice and you quickly gather your things and run out the door to an individual practice room.
~
You practice for a few more hours, not really wanting to lose to Hao now that you'd challenged him in front of your whole group. Crashing into your dorm around midnight, you work on your essay for another four hours before finally falling asleep. By 5:45 A.M., you're up and ready to walk through company doors at 6.
The day moves so slowly as you phone it in for every practice session and spend your lunch and dinner breaks alone in a practice room, thinking only about the choreography for the showcase number. You will never be able to listen to "How You Like That" the same way after this.
Finally, you reach your last practice session of the day at 8 P.M. and as you make your way to the studio room, you're surprised when you see Zhang Hao sitting in the hallway with his back against the wall.
Approaching the door, you look over at him. "What are you doing?"
He looks up at you and you can swear his eyes are watery. "Nothing."
"Are you crying?" You ask in a less than caring manner.
He looks away and sniffles. "Allergies."
"Did someone... say something?" You prompt reluctantly, knowing that it was a common occurrence for one or the both of you to end your days in tears from a nasty comment from your peers. "I don't know why you'd listen to them anyway. They're just jealous of you. Why wouldn't they be? You're better than them."
You're not really sure why you're offering even an attempt at words of comfort right now. Maybe it's because of your sleep deprivation. Maybe it's because his handsome face looks extra pathetic right now. Or maybe it's because you can't help but sympathize with him.
His wide eyes meet yours in a way you can't remember having seen before, but he doesn't say anything.
"I'd also be happy to say something even worse to take your mind off it?" You offer facetiously as you take into account his non-response.
He checks his watch suddenly and stands up, dusting himself off a bit as he grabs the door handle and pushes it open. "I think beating you should help just fine, actually."
~
Hao goes first, performing the center choreography and vocals for "How You Like That" to an audience of about fifty trainees that your teacher could muster up. Hardly the whole company, but you were surprised even that many of your peers wanted to watch either of you.
You can't help but notice that Zhang Hao seems a little distracted. Moves he would normally punch perfectly on an accented beat are lagging slightly and his expression is less than enthused. Nevertheless he does well and after he finishes, you hop up to take your turn. Fighting the exhaustion that is consuming your body, you battle to the best of your ability. Your voice has sounded extra good today, maybe because you hadn't let it cool down for over twenty-four hours. Hitting your final pose, you know you've out-performed Hao by at least a noticeable margin.
And from the look in his eyes, you know he knows it, too.
Your teacher stands up and calls for the vote. The trainees all hand in small slips of paper with either your name or Zhang Hao's on them and your teacher counts them quickly.
"Zhang Hao is the winner with... 43 votes," he says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Huh."
You feel your cheeks start to heat up at the embarrassingly large defeat, swallowing the lump in your throat quickly. Your group practice session resumes without fanfare and you work on ironing out your original sub-vocal one and main rapper part for the rest of the hour, scurrying quickly from the practice studio and out company doors as fast as humanly possible.
~
You hit 'submit' on your essay at 11:37 P.M. exactly, just making the midnight deadline. Rubbing your eyes furiously, you start to get ready for a good night's sleep after a restless week of practice and schoolwork. Your toothbrush is in your mouth when a knock sounds on your door. Your roommates had gone out to drink tonight and said they wouldn't be back until early morning, so you wonder who the mysterious guest could be.
Spitting into the sink and wiping your mouth, you run to the door and open it cautiously to find Ricky, Zhang Hao's roommate, smiling politely back at you.
"Oh, hey (Y/N)... I think this got delivered to our room by mistake. I flipped it open quickly since there was no name on it and it's addressed to you, so I figured it just got mixed in with our mail by accident," Ricky explains, handing you a delicately folded piece of white paper.
"Oh," you say, turning it over in your hands. "Thanks, Ricky."
"No worries," he says with a nod, starting to walk away before adding, "Hey, uh, don't feel too bad about today either. Hao is really good, of course, but he only won by such a big margin because he bought everyone ramen for dinner tonight in exchange for their vote."
You can't help but laugh at the information you should've probably deduced for yourself. "Typical."
"If it makes you feel any better-- I'm upset about it, too. He used my credit card," the tall boy relays with a sigh, turning around and making his way back to his dorm.
You close the door to your room, sitting down on your bed and staring at the strange letter in your hands. You carefully open the folded piece of white paper and read the neat handwriting on the page:
"(Y/N),
Why are you like this? So perfect, I mean. You didn't practice the dance nearly as much as I did, but you were so much better. Why do you have to be a trainee at my company? Wouldn't it be better if we had both signed with different companies? Then maybe you wouldn't hate me so much. Then maybe I wouldn't have to pretend to hate you at all. Then maybe I wouldn't have been staring at you so much during practice today that I had my position as center questioned.
Ugh, this is so stupid. I don't know why my therapist told me to do this. So what if it's not healthy to have an "arch nemesis"? So what if it's even less healthy to have a crush on my so-called arch nemesis? What does she know?
I know I can't ever say any of this to you, but I just feel like you might be the one person who really gets me. How else would we be able to ruin each other's lives so effectively? Is it so wrong to want to turn things around? And it's not like we really have anyone else to talk to. I guess I just don't know how to tell you that I--..."
The letter ends there; a pen mark after the letter 'I' indicating the writer was pulled away from it in a hurry. It isn't signed, of course, but you know there's only one person who could've written it.
Jumping off of your bed, slipping on your shoes and racing down the hall, you knock on the door to his room. Ricky opens the door, smiling at first and then eyes widening in fear as he sees the look on your face.
"Is Hao there?" You ask frantically.
He shakes his head quickly. "No, he's still at the company, why--."
"Thanks," you say, starting down the hall as the blonde boy stares after you. "You should be running too, Ricky!"
"Why?" He asks, brows furrowing in confusion.
Opening the doors of your dorm building, you yell back over your shoulder, "Because Hao is going to kill you!"
~
Bursting through the company's doors at 12:06 A.M., you drop your phone in the basket in the hallway. A staff member greets you very cautiously.
"(Y/N), are you here to practice? All the individual rooms are currently in use," she says, looking at her watch to see what time it is.
"Great. Where's Zhang Hao?" You quietly demand, walking past her down the corridor to the individual practice rooms.
"Oh, um... Number three," she calls after you've already turned the corner. You're shaking slightly by the time you reach the door to practice room number three, entirely out of breath and sopping wet from running half a mile in the rain to get there in a fit of anxiety and rage.
You spot him now through the small window in the practice room door, perfecting some choreography for the investors' evaluation this weekend. His eyes are closed and his headphones are on as you prepare for a sneak attack, opening the door and stepping inside.
But Hao's eyes suddenly locking on yours through the mirror sends a panic through your system. You're breathing even harder than you were before as he turns around to face you. Taking off his headphones, he gives you a look of concern (or disgust) as he takes in your haggard state.
"What's--... What's wrong? Why are you all wet and gross?" He asks in a very Hao-like way, making it hard to believe he was really the one who wrote you some sort of quasi-love letter.
You stand there for a second, staring back at him as fear temporarily paralyzes you. What in the world are you thinking? What even is the goal of bringing this letter to him? To make fun of him? To break his heart?
... To make a confession of your own?
"Are you okay? Did something happen?" He asks then, his voice noticeably softening slightly. "Did someone... say something?"
You nod slowly, pulling out the folded letter from your hoodie pocket; now dampened from the rain.
"What's that?" Zhang Hao asks, brows furrowed as we walks up to you and snatches the paper out of your hand. He unfolds it quickly, the corner of it tearing off in the process.
You watch his face completely drop as he realizes what it is. If you were questioning it before, you now had no doubt that Hao had in fact written the letter. He stares at it silently, clearly unsure of what to do or say.
"Is it true?" You ask softly.
"Is what true? There's not even a signature on it," he denies half-heartedly, bottom lip finding its way between his teeth.
"Is it true?" You ask again. Did you want it to be true?
His eyes meet yours timidly now, as he seemingly finds himself unable to speak. He shakes his head slowly. Has he always been this cute?
"That's too bad," you concede, stepping backwards. "I might've considered it... All of it."
You raise your eyebrows expectantly, turning towards the door when you feel Zhang Hao's hand close around your wrist. You look at him, his cheeks flushed a perfect rose.
"This is so embarrassing," he squeaks out, looking anywhere but into your eyes.
You nod. "It really is."
"Well, you're the one who ran here in the rain at midnight to see me," he quips.
"Well, you're the one so hung up on me that your therapist made you write a fake letter to address your feelings," you rebuttal.
"Well, you're the one who--," Hao starts to argue, and before you're even fully aware of what you're about to do, you find yourself cutting him off with a kiss. When you pull back, his mouth hangs agape slightly in shock. "… Kissed me."
"Honestly, Hao, you are pretty cute, but you're so annoying when you talk," you explain.
He nods slowly. "And so are you... But you know what I still can't figure out?"
You raise an eyebrow at him curiously. "What?"
"How did you get this letter in the first place? It was in my r--..."
Zhang Hao's eyes narrow menacingly as realization hits him:
"Ricky."
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pllaceh0lderr · 4 months
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I finally watched the live action Saiki K and it is literally a masterpiece.
Like I don't trust anyone who genuinely hates it bc it's literally perfect???? /nsrs
The production quality is awful. We know this. But the actors gave 110% and basically brought the characters to life. The facial expressions. The voices. Their overall mannerisms were like spot on.
Teruhashi's dramatic zoom in and over the top shocked face whenever Saiki rejected her advances was top tier. Hairo shouting so much his mouth was almost always in a 0 shape was brilliant. Kuboyasu's weird ass 'I'm gonna fucking kill this bitch istg-' face whenever anyone slightly wronged him unlocked hidden memories for me.
And don't even get me started on Kaido. I could write a whole essay on him. His cringefail ways became soooo much worse once a grown man did them in real life, but that just added to his charm. It hurts to watch ANYTHING he does. His obviously fake deep and raspy voice. His dramatic stares off into the distance whenever anyone talks to him. The fact he's always in an anime fight stance no matter what. And bro moves around the room like danger is around the corner ALL👏THE👏TIME!!!!!!!!👏👏👏👏👏 But that's what I love about him!!!! They didn't sugarcoat his cringe, they fed it and worsened it.
But moving back on to production quality, despite how terrible it is, y'all do remember Saiki K is a comedy right? The poorly edited super powers and $2 wigs are honestly so Saikicore. And tbh? This is the same view I have on the English dub for the anime. Like, I think it's bad, but it WORKS.
Also, the ending is WILD. Not gonna spoil it just in case, but the first hour of the movie is just episodes from S1 merged together, then the last half an hour is like entirely made up (unless it's shown in the manga, which I haven't read-) and it caught me so off guard?? Genuinely what the fuck was I watching by that point???? (This is all said in /pos)
Anyways, that's all I have to say for now, my only criticism is that Kuboyasu should've had purple hair (ONE STREAK would've been enough for me)
Here's some screenshots I took (ik it's mostly one scene but it rlly just surprised me)
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literary-motif · 3 months
Text
Encomium
Andrew Marston x Reader
If you care at all about philosophy, literature, and history, I highly recommend Professor Michael Sugrue’s lectures on YouTube. Here is the one on Plato's Symposium.
Andrew reflects on his love for you.
Andrew closed his book with a sigh, settling deeper into the couch and rubbing his tired eyes. He had been leafing through the pages for a while and, thinking about it, had not understood a single thing. 
His mind was wandering and he was once again preoccupied with a thought that had plagued him ever since he had heard Isaac laugh as they were alone together for the first time, looking at him with a fondness in his eyes that had made his breath hitch: What is the nature of love?
It was no easy question. Philosophy and literature had tried to answer it since the beginning of history, and the Symposium currently resting in his lap, although being a remarkable piece of writing, had not been able to account for all the feelings Andrew had had these past months. 
Tilting his head to rest on the back of the couch, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to loosen some of the heaviness he felt was weighing him down. Andrew glanced to the side, looking at you huddled in a fluffy blanket with a book of your own in your hands. You were completely enamored in the pages and he could not fight the soft expression creeping onto his face as he watched you read.
The heaviness in his chest only increased. It was not your fault in any way, but Andrew had started feeling lost and out of his depth with the overwhelming tide of feeling washing over him whenever you were near him or he so much as thought about you. The love he felt — while in no way suffocating or troublesome, on the contrary, it was the purest feeling he had ever felt — was just new to him. 
Growing up the way he did, isolated from the people around him and therefore crushingly alone, he felt like there was a lot of experience he lacked regarding social interaction and relationships outside of a professional setting. He had always been able to excel in his academic career, and he knew how things worked in a classroom and how to work with his fellow students toward an end goal, but outside of that he simply lacked the experience. 
Isaac had been just as unused to it all but hid it well under a cold stare and a nonchalant appearance. They were perfect for each other, learning together and experiencing what it felt like to truly love and be loved in return. It was good for as long as it lasted. 
When you walked into his classroom and looked at him with inquisitive eyes, so eager to learn, so passionate about the subjects, it was hard for him not to notice you. After reading your first essay, Andrew fell in love with the way you expressed yourself and thought about the things he himself had spent hours pouring over. If it was difficult not to fall in love with your mind, it was entirely impossible not to fall in love with you as a whole.
Andrew had often tried to be as stoic as Isaac but found himself always falling short of grasping complete control of his feelings. Still, you had made the first step in the bold essay you submitted and now the two of you were here, sitting on his couch and reading in comfortable silence. 
He never thought he’d be so happy. It was because he loved you, of course. Andrew sighed, looking down at the book in his lap. Love. 
Plato’s Symposium was the sort of literary masterpiece he had read to entertain himself when the mandatory reading of his classes at university was a bit too exhausting to get through. After first reading it as a simple pastime, Andrew had started beginning to get interested in the corpus of the platonic dialogues on his reread and, now, having studied it thoroughly already because it interested him, he had only picked it up again because he was in love for the second time in his life. 
Somehow, only needing to look at you, smell your scent, or read something you wrote made Andrew incredibly sensitive to the love blossoming in his chest. It made reading the Symposium all the more interesting because he could analyze his own feelings and thoughts about love — an aspect that was such a relevant element in his life — and hold them against the ideas of ancient philosophy. 
Having an academic debate about love, its properties and function, was of course entirely different from actually understanding it. 
Andrew reached forward, putting the book on the coffee table and picking up his cup of tea instead. He turned slightly to look at you, resting his shoulder against the back of the couch so he was facing you, still oblivious to the outside world as you read. 
As could be expected from Plato, Socrates’ idea of love was the one that rang the truest. 
Love is the yearning for eternity. It is a connection on a metaphysical level, a connection of souls. With love, we try to create something permanent, something beautiful that quite literally transcends this life and stretches beyond death because when we fall in love, we do not fall in love with their body or their beauty, we fall in love with their soul; and since the soul is eternal so is love, stretching beyond the boundaries of life and making it possible to love someone who is no longer living.
Andrew had fallen in love with your soul and the pressure in his chest was simply the yearning for completion, for eternity that love made him feel.
“What are you thinking about?” you asked, startling Andrew out of his reverie. You had looked up from your book to see his gaze fixed on your face with a concentrated look in his eyes that made you wonder what kind of ideas and thoughts he had come up with. 
Andrew answered, expressing the first thing that came to his mind. He did not want to put the weight of his philosophical musings on you and truthfully, he did not feel ready to share his incomplete and innermost, scrambled thoughts with you quite so soon. “The fall of the Roman Empire.”
You laughed as Andrew's cheeks turned pink. “Are you serious?” you asked, reaching out a hand to run your fingers through his soft hair, “I thought you were more of an ‘ancient Greece’ kind of person?” Andrew leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and humming in contentment. 
“I don’t think you can have one without the other,” he said, taking your hand in his and placing a tender kiss against your palm, making you chuckle. “I love you,” he murmured.
You smiled fondly at him, cupping his cheeks to tilt his head upwards and kiss him. 
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emmie-tt · 4 months
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Hi there,
can I request a Blaise Zabini x reader?
Reader is also a Slytherin who got partnered up with Harry Potter during potions and became fast friends with him. Harry asked for her help to make Ginny jealous but what she didn’t expect is that Blaise would also be jealous and ended up confessing that he’s been in love with her this whole time? (Blaise and reader are close friends).
Thank you!
Glitch
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Blaise Zabini x reader Summary: Helping Harry make his crush jealous unknowingly made your best friend jealous as well,I think there's been a glitch Warnings: Cursing , Sexual Innuendos -------------
I was supposed to sweat you out In search of glorious happenings of happenstance on someone else's playground But it's been two thousand one hundred and 90 days of our love blackout The system's breaking down
Y/N POV
Your brows furrow as you look up from your paper that you were busy writing your essay on before Harry sat himself down across from you and proposed a ridiculous idea
"Come on...Please..." He pleads as he stares you down
You stare at him silently before setting your quill down and leaning back in your chair "Let me get this straight, you want me to parade around as your arm candy so you can make your best friends little sister jealous in hopes she will notice you and go on a date with you?" Harry shakes his head as she groans "When you put it like that it sounds bad"
"No shit! That's because it is bad, it's actually horrible. In fact it's so bad I am honestly disgusted-"
He cuts you off with a dramatic roll of his eyes and a scoff "Fine, just forget it."
"Woah, woah, woah glasses. I never said I wouldn't do it."
"But you said-"
"I said it was a bad idea, not that I wouldn't do it." You shrug slightly before sitting up straighter in the chair "I'll do it, only because I know how much it will piss your little friends off that your associating with the enemy."
He rolls his eyes again but nods "Cool...Just- I'll meet you outside the greathall in the morning alright?" "Mhm. Off you go glasses"
With one last scoff he walks out of the library and back to wherever he came from and you just shake your head with a giggle as you watch him walk out the door
-------------
The next morning you roll out of bed and go about your morning routine. Taking a quick shower, brushing your teeth and hair, doing your skin care and getting dressed into your uniform for the day before making your way down to the common room where Draco, Theodore, Mattheo, Astoria, Daphne, Pansy and Blaise were already stood.
"About time you got down here" Astoria says with a smirk as you walk over to the group and took your spot next to Blaise
"Yeah, yeah, says the one who has to wake up four hours early."
With that we all have a little laugh before starting our walk towards the great hall. With a raised brow Pansy pokes your side and points over to Harry who was stood at the doors of the great hall
"Whats he doing?" she asks, ever the nosey and you giggle softly
"Waiting for me."
Blaise's neck almost broke from how fast he turned it to look at you. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Anyways, I will see you fine people in class" You blow them all a kiss before walking off and over to Harry who instantly laces his fingers with yours and leads you into the great hall
Blaise watches with a glare as you disappear into the great hall, your fingers laced with...Harry fucking Potters...Without meaning to I scoff and suddenly Draco's chuckle pulls me from my head and I look over at him slightly confused
Draco smirks before mockingly wiggling his brows "Watch it Zabini, you might be a Slytherin but green is not your color mate"
Blaise rolls his eyes and ignores the other teasing comments as he makes his way into the great hall and sits down to begin eating breakfast. His gaze travels from his plate and over to the Gryffindor table where you were sat, tucked into Potters side giggling at something he says
He can't be that funny and he sure as hell isn't cute- He pulls himself from his thoughts when you glance over at him and wink.
He rolls his eyes and turns his gaze back back to his plate, an action that shocked you as he always winked back...
Deciding to talk to him about it later you turn your own gaze back to Harry who was now talking to Ginny about godrick knows what. After a moment you fall into a surprisingly friendly conversation with Hermione.
-------------
Classes drug by. With Blaise seemingly ignoring you, you had no one to talk to or mess around with. The only good thing being that Harry successfully won over Ginny, something you were very surprised about.
Trudging into the common room you groan and immediately threw off your shoes before glancing around the room to see who was around. Seeing Blaise and Theo you smile and walk over taking a seat between both of them, your smile dropping instantly when Blaise stands and walks off up to his dorm.
Glancing over at Theo clearly confused he sighs rolling his eyes "He is so dramatic"
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Yeah."
Theos words shocked you and your eyes widened "Wh-What? What did I do?"
"You sucked Potters dick instead of Zabinins?"
While Theo's original words shocked you the sentence that fell from his mouth left you utterly speechless "E-Excuse me?"
Theo shrugs as if he just said the most normal thing ever. "You heard me."
You scoff shaking your head as you stand from the couch shaking your head "He doesn't look at me like that, you're crazy."
"Right, he totally isn't talking to you because he thinks you're screwing scar head. He is totally fine with it and just absolutely adores the idea because he totally isn't in love with you."
You were once again rendered speechless by his words, there was no possible way that Blaise, your absolute best friend, was in love with you-
Cutting your own thoughts off you dash up to the boys dorms, ignoring the teasing comment of Theodore who yelled "Go get that dick girl!"
After knocking on the door and receiving no answer you take it upon yourself to slam the door open finding Blaise, who now looked startled, laying shirtless on his bed with his phone in his hands
"Are you- What is happening with you? Why are you mad at me?"
He rolls his eyes with a scoff before muttering "Go away Y/N"
Shaking your head and walking into the dorm before closing the door behind you "No. Do you love me?"
His eyes widen slightly, clearly caught off guard by your blunt answer, he looks over at you then back to his phone "Doesn't matter, you're with Potter..."
Rolling your eyes you walk over and plop yourself down on the bed next to him causing him to shoot you a bewildered look "What are you-"
"I am not with Potter, I was merely trying to help him get with Ginny."
His bewilderment quickly turns to confusion as his body slowly relaxes from the tense state it was previously in and it slowly relaxed "Help with Ginny? How was you pretending to be his girlfriend helping him?"
You rolls your eyes "He made her jealous by pretending to date me since she hates me..."
"That..." Blaise mumbles as he lays his head back against the pillow "Is the dumbest thing I've ever heard..."
"I know!" You exclaim before rolling onto your side to face him "Now, tell me the truth. Do you love me or is Theodore lying?"
Blaise raises a brow as he glances over at you "Nott told you?"
With a groan you rather roughly smack his shoulder "Stop avoiding the question!"
He groans "Fine- yes... I do but it doesn't matter because there is no way you like me back-"
Rolling your eyes you cut his rambling off with a soft kiss, your hands gently cupping his cheeks as his hands shoot down to your waist as he instantly melts into the kiss
After a moment you pull away and rest your forehead against his "I do love you...I have for awhile..."
A smirk forms on his face as he pushes you onto your back next to him before climbing on top of you and kissing you again...among other things...
I think there's been a glitch, oh, yeah Five seconds later, I'm fastening myself to you with a stitch, oh, yeah And I'm not even sorry Nights are so starry, blood moonlit It must be counterfeit I think there's been a glitch, oh, yeah
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autisticlenaluthor · 7 months
Text
Twilight
Lena often thinks her real life is somewhere else far away. Sure, physically, she exists in her body. She can see and touch and experience all the other senses that supposedly make her whole. But for as long as she can remember, she’s had the strongest feeling that the real Lena is out there somewhere else. And while this one watches the rest of the world through her glass box and foggy goggles, the woman she’s supposed to be thrives in another existence. Maybe even another timeline. 
This other life isn’t something Lena looks for– it isn’t something that can be revealed through tireless searching. When Lena tries, it only seems to grow further away.
So she chooses to believe that one day, they will step into each other and the box will break. She’ll become real and whole, and the fog will be gone and her new life will start. The life she’s always been meant to have. 
In the bleak hours of twilight, Lena finds herself the closest she’s ever been to shattering that barrier.
In high school, Lena used to tell herself that longer she stayed awake, the longer it would take for the next day to come. She needed to savor the times that weren’t consumed by the energy it took to mask at school or locked in the upstairs bathroom to avoid Lillian’s resentment. And that could only happen when the rest of the world was asleep.
Night was her safe haven.
Darkness expects nothing of no one. She didn't have to be presentable or restrained she could just... be.
At night, the requirements that had been forced upon her since the ripe age of four are momentarily lifted because nobody’s that put together when it’s three in the morning and they haven’t slept in almost as many days.
Sleep, on the other hand, felt like pressing fast forward on existence. 
Lena’s head would hit the pillow and in an instant, the cycle would start back up again. 
She’d wake up. Get dressed. Get coffee. Go to school. Skip lunch to complete homework. Study during her free period. Get ahead on extra credit during study hall. Stay late for chess club Wednesdays and Fridays. Stay late for fencing on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Go home and hope the mansion would be empty when she arrived. Drink more coffee. Study for upcoming exams. Eat dinner (or not). Work on college essays. Even more coffee. Brush teeth. Sleep. Repeat.
The cycle couldn’t be broken but the beginning of a new day could be prolonged. And at sixteen-years-old with no real freedom, time was the most finite resource Lena had. 
The night was Lena’s out and it was embarrassingly easy to become addicted to it’s reprive. 
Lena’s late nights transitioned from her childhood bedroom, to her university dorm, to her first apartment, to the hotel she lives out of in National City for three months. Eventually, they land in the basement of L Corp, where her favorite place in the entire world sits – her personal lab.
Lena spends more hours down there than she can count.
She does everything from experimentation on different substances to developing plans for high tech militant weapons. She picks apart and studies Lex’s old devices and spitefully finds ways to improve them (oh, how he would hate if he knew his little sister had been the one to fix the flaws he hadn’t accounted for).
Some nights she even finds herself going back to her Metropolis roots of trying to cure cancer out of a garage with Jack Spheer. She reads through medical journals when she’s looking for more mental stimulation than physical, and writes up lists of her own hypotheses and ideas. Clinical trials could be built around her midnight endeavors, if Lena would ever let anyone read her work. 
At night, Lena thrives. She gets so close to this other world that at times, she thinks if she pushed just a little harder, she’d finally be able to break the seal.
But then there are the nights where it’s never felt further away. 
Those nights come after soul sucking days where Lena spends every minute forced to be on. They come from masking more than she can handle, until she feels like she might physically burst from the tension. They leave her feeling like a shell of herself, like her capacity for being alive has dropped to zero. 
Lena only tries to explain it once. Sam can tell something’s wrong so Lena does the thing most unlike herself and confides in her. It’s the only time she ever says it out loud.
Really, Lena doesn’t know what she was expecting– maybe reassurance that her struggle is real and that her burn out is enough. But instead, Sam tells her she gets it. She gets exhausted too from the long days and crashes hard after sitting in a board room with executives and other titles for hours on end. 
It’s in good faith but it makes Lena feel even worse. Because she doesn’t get it– not really. Sam may struggle, but Lena is autistic. She’s speech loss and shut down, ugly stimming, and violent meltdowns autistic. She's 'can only eat five foods because of ARFID', prolonged burn out, sleep deprived, and insomniac autistic. 
And god, there’s nothing more isolating than knowing that no matter how hard they try, her friends will never be able to ‘get it’ when she tells them she’s having a hard time. 
Those are the nights where to Lena, doing anything substantial feels entirely inconceivable. But the routine can’t be broken. So she stops by Noonans for an iced coffee and safe food dinner of Uncrustables that she can eat on the laboratory floor. Because sometimes all it takes to feel okay is to be surrounded by her special interests, even if she can’t interact with them. 
She's tapping her fingers, trying to block out the sound of the buzzing overhead lights, when she finds Kara standing in the pick-up spot parallel to her. Lena isn’t sure what time it is but the sky outside is black and the coffee shop is empty. All she knows is t's way too late for Kara "It starts at 10? That's when I go to bed" Danvers.
Kara smiles when she spots her. 
“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought all the big CEOs sent their assistants out for coffee runs,” she jokes. 
For a split second, Lena manages to smile back at her. It's small and fleeting but it's there. Her first real one in days.
“I sent Jess home hours ago,” she replies. “It wouldn’t be fair to subject her to my all-nighters.” 
Lena pauses when the barista approaches the counter to hand Kara her drink. 
“Why are you still up?” She asks after a moment. “Snapper torturing you again?”  
Kara shrugs and gives a light laugh
 “No, Snapper’s been surprisingly okay recently. I just stayed late to finish some stuff up. I’m done now but I wanted to get myself a little reward.”  
She sips at her drink, grinning when she sees Lena’s confused expression. 
“It’s hot chocolate– no caffeine for me.”
Lena hums. Before she can say anything else, her large iced black coffee is placed on the counter in front of her. Her cheeks flush red and for whatever reason, all she can feel is pure shame at the sight of it. 
This isn’t normal. She isn’t normal. And there’s no way Kara doesn’t feel it too.
But Kara doesn’t judge. She doesn’t chastise Lena’s choices or go on about how it’s so unhealthy to have caffeine so late and how she should know better by now.
Instead, she says “are you going back to the office? I can walk with you.” 
Of course, Lena accepts.
They walk together in silence. It doesn’t feel awkward– there isn’t an expectation to fill the gaps. It’s just the two of them. They’re side by side and in that moment, neither of them need anything more. 
When they arrive at L Corp, Lena brings Kara inside with her.
They skip security and stop at the elevator. Lena pulls out her ID card but she doesn’t scan it. She looks at Kara and shifts her weight between her heels.
“Would you like to come down with me?” She asks. 
“Down?” 
“My lab… it’s in the basement.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to. I wouldn’t put you to work or anything– I was just going to sit on the floor and have dinner. If you’d like to do that with me.” 
Kara can’t help but chuckle at Lena’s phrasing. Her best friend, who can’t touch the buttons on public elevators without putting a tissue over her thumb, relaxes by eating her dinner on the basement floor.
The contrast is stark yet endearing. And as strange as it sounds, Kara cant think of a better way to spend her night. 
They spend the next hour sitting in a corner, backs up against the wall, eating grape uncrustables, vending machine chips, and Oreos. Kara tells Lena about her day, making sure she knows she doesn’t have to respond if she isn’t up to speaking. And as they drink their respective beverages, Kara goes on about how incredible Lena’s lab is– how nice it was of her to share it.  
It feels good. It feels calming. Lena’s surrounded by her favorite things, eating her safe foods, with her best friend, who upholds none of the social barriers she struggles with so much.
By the time they’re done– it’s nearly two in the morning.
“Gosh, I’m tired,” Kara says, smiling dreamily. She yawns and looks over at Lena. “Are you?” 
Lena just shrugs. She is. She always is. But right now, the last place she wants to be is her empty penthouse. 
“We both need sleep,” Kara adds. She slouches into the wall and sighs. “But my loft is so far. And I don’t want to leave you. Why is everything so unfair?” 
Softly, Lena laughs. 
“You could come to my place,” she suggests, her voice small and apprehensive. “If you’d like. I- I think it would be nice to… not be alone for a bit.” 
“Really?” Kara asks. 
Lena nods. “Really.”
"I'd love that!"
Lena smiles. For the first time in years, the thought of going to sleep doesn't feel all that daunting.
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catslvrr · 5 months
Text
heaven sent — 08. the apartment
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It was raining again the next day, but there was no Danielle. You sat there, for an hour or so, hoping that she would eventually show up. You soon gave up and went back to sleep so you wouldn’t have to feel the dull ache in your heart.
It was six in the evening when you woke up again, thanks to Minji.
“Bro,” she knocked on the door. “You alive?”
“Yeah,” you answered groggily.
“I made some noodles for you.”
“I’ll be out in a sec.” You groaned as you rolled out of bed, ruffling your hair as you made your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.
Despite your constant bickering, you were grateful for Minji’s presence in your life. You had grown somewhat fond of her, as much as you hated to admit it, and you both found yourselves confiding in each other late at night after opening a few bottles of soju.
“You look like shit,” was what Minji said when you plopped yourself on the couch. You chose to ignore the comment, stuffing your mouth with noodles instead.
She scrolled on Twitter as you ate, glancing at you in concern every now and then.
“You good?”
You wiped your mouth with a tissue. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“How long have we been roommates, bro? You only sleep in this late when…” She trailed off.
Again, you didn’t respond, just continuing to eat.
She pressed on. “Did you fail that essay? Or did your dad call? Is it girl problems?”
Your hand holding the chopsticks twitched for half a second, but that’s all it took for her to realize.
“So it’s girl problems!” Minji threw an arm over your shoulder, to which you cringed in disgust. “Bro, talk to me. I’m practically the love expert around here.”
You peeled her arm off you. “Love expert my ass. You’ve been single your whole life.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but you quickly shut her down. “That one online situationship on Twitter doesn’t count.”
“Okay,” she huffed. “I might not have much experience, but sometimes it might help to get a different perspective.”
“Wow,” you said dryly. “You actually said something that made sense for once.”
“Enough about me. Tell me what’s troubling my favorite couple.”
Well, she’s actually not my girlfriend. She’s a messenger of God. And we kissed. But she kinda just disappeared after that.
“Um,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, trying to think of a believable lie. “I want her to move in with me, but she says she can’t leave, um, Australia.”
Nice.
“Damn,” she whistled. “So it’s serious serious. I thought it was like a petty little argument.”
You rubbed your face tiredly. “Yeah, no.”
“I get it, bro. Long distance relationships are hard. But you guys are both still young.” She slapped your back.
“She’s already made an effort to fly all the way here to spend these few weeks with you. I think you should just make the most of your time together, and consider the serious stuff when you’re both more financially stable.”
“Wow,” was all you could say. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
Minji puffed her chest in pride. “Love expert, baby!”
You rolled your eyes, but let her advice sink in. 
When, or if, she comes back, I apologize and hope things go back to normal. Surely we can still have a fun time and ignore the tension.
“Thanks, bro,” you mumbled.
“You can thank me by making it up to her.” Minji snatched your chopsticks and proceeded to finish off your noodles, which was your form of payment for her advice.
“I don’t even know how to do that.”
She pursed her lips in thought. “What about finishing that song?”
“What song?”
“The song that you had on repeat in your sleep. I literally had to barge into your room and turn it off.”
“Oh. That song.”
She paused. “It’s been a while since I saw you making music, bro. I’m glad that you’re back.”
You managed out a small smile. “Thanks.”
“It’s just an instrumental right? Why don’t you write some lyrics and a melody for it? You’re literally Shakespeare’s daughter. Just write down cheesy shit and sweep her off her feet.”
“Sure,” you deadpanned. “Like it’s that easy.”
“Everything is easy when it comes to love,” she teased, to which you punched her arm.
“I’ve heard enough,” you said, going to your room.
You sat in your chair, uncapping a pen and twirling it as you listened to your old voice notes. Most of them were only about two to four bars long, melodies that randomly popped into your head and resonated with you enough to keep them. Once you found one you liked enough, you knew you could start.
Music composition was a repetitive process. You would play the instrumental for a few bars, freestyle a melody with random words, and keep it if worked. If it worked, you’d polish the lyrics for it, and move on to the next bar. If it didn’t, you would just click play again and try a completely different melody. If you were lucky, sometimes the melody and lyrics would come rolling off your tongue for a whole verse.
You weren’t a singer by any means, but you had created a few demos here and there. As you listened to your first draft, you sank back in your seat and frowned. It felt so empty with just your voice.
You thought about Danielle, and you thought about her stupidly singing to Frozen. You wondered how she would sound singing the song. And so, you spent the rest of the night layering the melody with harmonies with her at the forefront of your mind.
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maddipoof · 1 year
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There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort 🌷: maybe a study session turned cuddle with tasm peter parker?
I don't know if you were expecting science but I just cannot. So r has a test on Othello and yeah, it's cute, I like it. thank you for requesting <3 I had fun writing it
WC: 910 (yay my first blurb under 1000 words, improvement)
The very second you sat back down at your desk, half convinced you’re focused enough from another session of pacing around your room, the buzzer went off. You’d almost be annoyed but you didn’t have the time with the half second it took you to realize it had to be Peter. Any other day you’d run over to the door, but today the exhaustion was getting to you. Settling for a rushed walk instead, you leaned down to speak into the little microphone. “Come on up, bugboy.”
“Actually,” you nearly screamed at the voice from outside your half open window. You had your hand over your heart and your back leaning on the wall while Peter watched, hanging upside down with that stupidly adorable smile. “Spiders are arachnids, not bugs.” He lowered himself to the floor and pulled the web down from your fire escape and you practically ran to open the window the rest of the way. You didn’t give him the chance to duck under the window on his own with the way you pulled him down with a hand to the back of his neck. He had to hold himself up with one hand on the sill and the other on the wrist of your hand in his hair. The kiss itself was much gentler than the way you wrapped him into it, but he was alright with that, though with how much he missed you he wouldn’t have minded more. “I haven’t seen you all day.”
“I know, it’s been too long.”
“Mhm, 12 whole hours, basically eternity.”
“If I remember correctly, it’s been 13.”
“Probably right,” he nudged you back a bit so he could climb in and shut the window without turning from you. “And how many of those did you sleep?”
“Hm,” you clicked your tongue while thinking of the best answer that wouldn’t get you sent to bed immediately, but decided the truth was enough. “Um, 5?” Wrong answer, you could see it on his face. “And a half, 5 and a half.”
“And what were you doing all the other 7.5?”
“I don’t know what it is about this essay but I can’t get it right.” You dropped your face into his shoulder and he tried scratching at the back of your neck in an attempt to comfort you.
“For your lit class? When’s it due?”
“That’s the thing,” you rested your chin on his chest and looked up at him with pleading eyes, not really knowing what you were asking for. “I’m just writing it as a practice for my exam, it’s in two days and if I can’t answer the essay question, what’s the point?”
“She gave you the essay question?”
“Yeah. Well, it’s just to analyze a scene and talk about what it means and blah blah blah whatever,” you talked while he pulled you into your room. “But I can’t focus and it’s like my eyeballs want me to fail.”
You stood behind him while he looked over your desk of loose index cards, open binders and notebooks with margins overrun with scribbles, and of course the half written essay on your laptop.
“You wanna sit down and I’ll quiz you on it? So you don’t have to strain your eyes anymore?” He started picking up the notecards before you even answered, just to organize for you if nothing else. You listened and sat on your bed with your back against the wall. 
“Yeah, that’s ok.”
“Good, ok, yeah. These ones?” He held up the colorful neon flash cards. 
“Mhm, Othello.”
Peter hasn’t even thought of Shakespeare since Macbeth senior year. Too wrapped up in more scientific studies and uh, spiderman-ing. But he’d do it for you. 
Three-quarters of the way through the set he could see your breath evening out and your eyes fluttering. 
“Here, lay down,” he guided you forward by the shoulder. 
“Hm?” 
“I’ll read to you.” He slid in behind you on the bed and pulled the blankets over both of you. 
“You don’t have your glasses.”
“I’ll manage,” he reached over to grab the book off the table then relaxed back down to pull you to his chest. 
“You’ll strain your eyes.” As if he didn’t arrive by swinging from building to building, that’s the danger you were worried about. 
“I’ll manage.” 
Your head was on his chest and he read over your shoulder. 
“Start here,” you pointed to the section your essay was focused on, half way through a passage. 
“She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, in faith, ‘twas strange, 'twas passing strange, 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story. And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I loved her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have used: Here comes the lady; let her witness it.”
He looked down at you to find you sleeping, happy that you finally found a moment’s rest. He kissed your forehead, wherever he could reach. “I love you.” He wasn’t even sure you could hear, but he needed you to know anyway. 
“I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.
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sl-vega · 2 months
Text
✧Sticking to the Script✧-07
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⋆。°✩ 07-rebound already?
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"Sorry about that, those were just my friends." you sighed as you put your phone into your pocket. You looked at Xingqiu again. "Thanks for agreeing to help me study by the way, I really appreciate it."
"No problem, anything for you." he replied as the two of you walked into the library. You chuckled and playfully hit his arm "Anything for me huh? Look at you being smooth."
The two of you settled at a table, and Xingqiu pulled out your chair for you. You got your textbook out of your bag, and Xingqiu took out his notes, and two pens, one for him and one for you.
"You need help with your English paper right?" Xingqiu asked as he sorted through his binder, looking for notes that you would find useful. You nodded, giving him your thanks as he handed you some lined sheets.
"You're doing a unit on Shakespeare?" he asked, underlining a few things on his paper. You nodded "Yeah, we're doing a joint unit with the drama department, we're analyzing Romeo and Juliet. And my essay is due tommorow!" you wailed, slamming your head on the table.
Ms. Lisa, the librarian, shushed you from her desk. You whispered an apology to her as you picked up some of the papers Xingqiu set aside for you. "Are you analyzing anything in particular?" he asked, still sorting through more notes, he got out a highlighter.
"Mainly the famous quotes and stuff. Our teacher also wants us to talk about the use of opposites in the play. We're supposed to cover at least one scene from each act." you explained as you watched him take more notes. His handwriting was so neat and pretty, even when it looked like he was just scribbling down words.
He handed several sheets of paper to you, some papers included scenes from the play handwritten by him, word for word. He also highlighted certain bits of the text, and made sure to include modern English translations for you at the back of the pages.
"These are my notes from last year. We did a unit similar to this. Sorry if it's a little messy."
You stared at the page, the blue ink had zero smudges and the sheet had little to no crinkles in it. "If you think that this is messy, just wait till you see my notes." you chuckled. "I know I already said this, but I really appreciate this."
The two of you continued talking, Xingqiu continuing to take notes for you, highlighting important parts of the text and explaining their meanings for you. Once again he had made an hour seem like a few minutes.
"And that's what Mercutio meant when he said 'Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man." Xingqiu explained, finishing off his analysis to you.
"That also foreshadows his death doesn't it?"
"Exactly! See, you're picking up on this so quickly." XIngqiu praised you as he started to pack up his stuff, placing his papers into his folders and his pencil cases into his back pack.
You glanced at your phone to check the time. "You have to go already?" you asked, feeling slightly disappointed that he had to leave.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I'll see you this weekend though, I promise." He gave your hand a quick squeeze. You felt your stomach drop as you saw him exit the room.
Promises can be hard to keep Xingqiu
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Xingqiu put his phone down and rubbed his temples. "You okay?" whispered Kazuha.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Xingqiu replied.
Archons he was in deep
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additional notes:
-FINALLY GOT ANOTHER CHAPTER OUT
-so sorry for all the slow updates y'all
-i'm trying
-i was writing for another smau i have coming up
-my commitment issues will be the end of me
-holy hell this chapter got a tad deep
-KAZUHA CAMEO
-they're both in their english class during the xingqiu + kazuha scene btw
-lol not y/n being a drama queen cuz she's upset that she has to wait three whole days before seeing xingqiu again
-you guys don't have any classes together btw
-that blue flower gif means that i'm switching povs mid chapter btw
-i went thru sm different versions for this chapter
-ty to @EggosForBreakfast on wattpad for proofreading this for me
-you should go follow them
-also ty to all my readers: @washa, @kasasim, @wisteriabl00m, @rebeccavsabrina, @nmriki0, @rainycafereader, @slu7, @melatoninsblog, @anticlarckwise, @esmetrees, @sn1perz, @littleheartbigbrain, @aldertree-g, @thebiggesthutaofanever, @lilac-sks, @amir8623, @freyao7, @mystic-alex, @myaaaajoy, @tartagliascummdumpp, @green-ginkgo, @lillyinfandoms, @charles-braindump, @samsamsam7, @leynita, @uuyuomi/@mwahkazu, @pwrson, @practicoi, @thatoneswordgirl
-names in bold mean i couldn't tag them
-dw that's just a one time acknowledgment to everyone who liked the original master post, you won't constantly be tagged like that, but if you want to be removed just tell me
-i'll totally understand <3
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masterlist
<prev ll next>
✧Sticking to the Script✧
Pairing: Xingqiu x FEM! Reader
Genre: fake dating, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst (?), high school smau, modern smau
⋆。°✩-Synopsis: Xingqiu just got entered into a special writing contest, the type that's invite only, the theme this year is love, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. but he really wants to prove himself as a writer. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. it shouldn't be hard for an actor such as yourself, all you need to do is stick to the script.
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(OPEN) Taglist: @freyao7, @thatoneswordgirl, @sn1perz, @latay7, @esmetrees, @nmriki0, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @httpsrenren, @cupid-spams, @aixaingela, @kaitfae, @luvkvni, @danhenglovebot
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romanarose · 4 months
Text
Life update if anyone cares.
I only post this bc i was posting my depressing shit for months and a lot of people were reaching out in concern <3
cw sever depression, self harm, suicide, csa, SA, all the bad. but also lots of good <3
TLDR: Despite a god-awful semester, i got all a's and b's
Everyone thats been following me the last few months has seem my personal posts about how fucking awful things have been for me.
I've dealt with fact I can no longer deny that what happened to me was CSA, despite being on a milder side of things. That sparked an absolutely spiral. I didnt sleep for months which made things worse. School, I got an F on a midterm and i NEVER get F's on writing assignments.
Work had its complications and i quit and then rescinded that quit two days later. I was so constantly depressed in my dorm my roommate literally told me i needed to go to the basketball game with them bc i was sitting in a depression hovel none stop. I only went to services twice this whole time, one shabbat and once for Rosh Hoshannah.
I burned the ever living fuck out of my fingers, yall remember that one? lol.
In novemeber i had relapsed so severely on self harm i thought i had accidentally killed myself. I should've called 911. I thought I was bleeding out and/or going into shock. I then worked myself up more by going down pages of the internet about medical shook and people dying from it. that did not help my heart rate. I couldn't stand, I couldnt see straight for a while.
I could not afford an ambulance or a hospital stay as i am uninsured and only ork 25 hours a week. not a lot of money.
All this happened and I didn't miss work. This is not a brag, this is me not being able to makegood choices for myself.
Finally, thanksgiving break hit. Thank fucking god. I WANTED to use those 4 days of absolutely nothing to get to my TWO BIG RESEARCH PAPERS I HADNT STRTED YET but alas, I was SICK. I was so sick, in fact, and so hoped up on cough medicine for 3 days i was incomprehensible.
I was so physically ill, i couldnt even think about how mentally ill i was. I slept and slept and slept. And by the time sunday hit, I felt so recharged.
My failed midterm was so bad and so not me my professsor reached out to me. Im close with him (in a v appropriate way lol, hes a bruce springsteen fan too) and i felt comfortable telling him essentially that for a few months there things were severe, and I really should've gone in for a 72 hour hold multiple times and i was not safe. through a few lines of resources, I ended up back in therapy bc my school added a new therapist that is a woman (i stopped going last year bc i didnt like seeing a man)
I like my new therapist.
Anway, in about 2 weeks I wrote 2 12 page research papers, 2 book report papers, 1 science paper did 2 presentations, took 2 finals, wrote 2 more finals with essay questions, and at the end of it all, not only did I not fail any classes...
I GOT ALL A'S AND B'S! Which means my gpa is still high enough to renew my scholarship for my last year
I am so fucking proud of myself for accomplishing all this despite suffering so fucking badly. I havnt felt pain like that in years, just agony.
I had a down turn again over christmas bc my siblings were literally ass, upto and including making fun of me for not ating (i am multiple accounts of sexual trauma from several people, so im scared of dating), making fun of my eating, and my sister slapping me and my older brother hitting me. Was a bad time. But for right now, im in the place im staying for break (all january) im back at my old day care and they love me, and olive garden at this store has been going great
Im hoping next semester to be better, im hopful at least
Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who has supported my writing has supported me through these times. It makes me happy that i came her to share my silly little moon knight x reader series, not really intending on writing a whole lot, but next thing i know, i have friends and a lil community. so thank you <3
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wowowwild · 6 months
Note
I asked for 20 but I also want to ask about 21! I love fic recs.
21. Did you ever read fanfictions? Which one is your personal recommendation?
Sorry it took so long! It took me a while to get everything in order, but here it is.
So fun fact: Whenever I read a fic I love I book mark it with the note j'adore so I can read it again later. Some of them get this note preemptively. I also tend to go through a tag on ao3 in date posted ascending order so I start with the oldest and work my way forward so I don't potentially miss anything, but I haven't made it all the way through some tags that I would like to. If there's a fic you think I would like that's not on here, I probably just haven't gotten to it yet! (Most of the newer ones on here I found through Tumblr.)
Also! I'm pretty sure any of the ones that involve smut I have marked as such, but please check the tags on the actual fic before reading! I am not responsible for what content you choose to consume!
That being said, here is Ace's All Time Best Fic Rec List (AATBFRL for short):
Nobody Can Just Say What They Mean (Series)- The first fic is Narumitsu and the second is Klapollo and I think about them allllll the time, especially Things Are As They Are altered me on a microscopic level. Rocks are just rocks, you know? (Narumitsu, Klapollo)
undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward)- Idk what to say. Kristoph Gavin dies in prison and Klavier is suspect #1. Apollo flies back to defend him and yaoi happens. I'm a sucker for Klav getting all scrungled up.
fame vs infamy (the price of writing fanfic out of spite)- It's a crack fic. It's funny. 10/10 would recommend. (Klapollo)
The Definition Of Home- And there was only one bed?!?!?!?!?! What?!?!?!?! And there was a little angst in the bed?!?!?!?!?! Unbelievable. Actually the angst was on the couch, the bed made it better. (Klapollo)
13 Hours- This fic keeps popping up in my fever dreams. I'm not even kidding. I didn't have it bookmarked the first time around but when I found it again, I was like 'oh, I know this one! It haunts my dreams!' and immediately slapped a j'adore on it. Airport Klapollo getting together.
Dig Enough Graves- This one is still being put out, it's a Klapollo roleswap and I love it. I get so excited when I see it's updated. So many things are happening and we have clues and I'm gonna figure it out, ok? *boston accent* I'm sleuthin 'ere! (rated M for violence and sex reasons)
stop the presses (series)- V funny. Apollo works as a columnist and writes thirst essays about KlavGav and gets a date out of it. I am very impressed with the coding used to make this look the way it does.
And if my wishes could all come true- I have reread this one a couple times. I think about it a lot. It is genuinely so funny and makes me feel all sorts of things. I love pre-relationship klapollo divorce complete with alimony while they were not not dating but actually not dating, Apollo you can't just assume that.
Nothing Like This Feeling- Apollo top suregery fic with a dash of Klapollo!
Turnabout Dishwasher- For when you get the hankering for a 422.6k work of art. It's like three fics in one that happen concurrently, which doesn't sound like a description that makes sense unless you read it. There are so many characters here, and shipping is part of it but it's also a whole lot of everything else. These characters are actually living and you get to take a look see. (klapollo, blackmadhi, wrightworth, look just read the tags on the fic there's so much going on)
Such Terrible Tales- A gorgeous magic filled AU with a focus on the casts of aa5 and aa6 and fun cameos from Investigations (so far). This fic is still on going and I would def recommend reading it as it comes out! I love trying to figure out the lore and what will happen next! This fic kind of pulls me off my hinges lol. (blackmadhi)
You Wear Stripes, Too?- Apollo and Klav come out to each other as trans and nb respectively.
Things Best Shared- Klav teaches Apollo guitar.
For A Bad Time Call Simon Blackquill- Iconic blackmadhi fic. I think about it all the time. V funny fake dating au with bits of angst.
Last Resort- And they were roommates! Blackmadhi roommates with lots of healing and shenanigans.
Dating for a Turnabout- Narumitsu fake dating for a case. Larry is there doing Larry things. Franziska did it to them bc she is very smart and cool.
Vacation All I Ever Wanted- I think about this sooooooo much. Tagline: One condo. Six lawyers. Seven secret plans. What could possibly go wrong? (klapollo, narumitsu, athena blackquill and trucy are there)
Alternative Dispute Resolution- Apollo makes Klavier talk to Mr. Wright before they can start dating. It's awkward (and funny) and Trucy is a delight.
Turn(about) my words- The fic where I realized I instinctively start laughing when someone gets shot. He's fine. uhhh narumitsu, phoenix got shot of course bc why wouldn't he and found family stuff.
You're Alive (And that's the only thing that truly matters.)- Klavier gets poisoned and Edgeworth tells the nurses Apollo is his partner so he can get in to see him. Turns out I don't laugh at poisonings, only shootings.
Dog Days- Apollo and Trucy go to another Gavinners concert and Polly misinterprets everything all the time.
Reckless Endangerment- One of the funniest klapollo get togethers. Pollo insults him real good while he's standing behind him, klav thinks about going abroad to study, phoenix has prosecutor going abroad ptsd, apollo might actually be into the gavinners, or at least the titular member.
Good Advice- Klavier Gavin makes categorically bad decisions in the face of love. (klapollo)
Hot For Justice- klavgav gets a muse, guess who?
Rules for Dating a Rockstar Prosecutor- klapollo first date that literally everyone is more invested in than Apollo (until he actually goes).
The Things We Do For Gym Access- Fake dating so Apollo can use the gym at Klav's place until the one he normally goes to gets fixed. Except they're actually really into each other and it's killing me everyday it's killing me I'm dead I'm dying they're so dense and in love and can't figure out why they haven't been caught and it's bc they actually feel like that and on top of pretend dating are pretending to date each other to themselves just kiss istg. Rated Explicit for sexual reasons.
The Walk to Tomorrow- Narumitsu doing Narumitsu things.
Legal Partners- Oooooooo this one! I also think about this one a lot. Narumitsu and klapollo and everyone is idiots they're all idiots. Klav and Edgeworth make a stupid, stupid bet about who has the more meaningful connection with their preferred defense attorney. I love this type of fic.
Turnabout Rubesville- Edgeworth gets accused of murder in a small town bc he's a grump. Phoenix sorts it out.
You Ever Been In Love?- Everyone gets way too involved in making Wrightworth happen, and it goes horribly until it goes right.
Gravity- Rated Explicit for sex reasons. Tbh I really like the oc. She's real cool. def read the tags for trigger warnings. (klapollo)
The soul truth (and nothing but the truth)- Franmaya! There's some spirit medium shenanigans and Lang is a bro.
Exorcism- Klapollo AU aa4 rewrite Kitty is a doll I love her these boys are unhinged look they have a conspiracy closet ok? Rated E for sex reasons.
Play Your Cards Right- Narumitsu agree to go on a date and shake hands about it. Rated E for sex reasons.
Hostile Environments (Series)- Justquill Shenanigans
satisfaction brought him back- Justquill Simon gets turned into a cat. I love fics where someone gets turned into a cat. There aren't a lot but it is a trope I enjoy. I've def read this one a couple times.
Stripped- Klapollo impending. Apollo is also secretly a stripper. Idk if this fic will ever get finished but I liked everything in it.
Curiosity Created the Cat- Klapollo impending. Also not finished and maybe never will be and only 3 chapters but in this one Klav gets turned into a cat. I'm sorry.
if it's really me you seek- Klapollo. I'm just going to post the official summary bc I j'ador'ed it but I don't remember exactly which one this is: Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment.
As of right now this is everything in my bookmarks that I've read, I think you can figure out my favorite ship lol.
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cavernofstars · 4 months
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PLEASE go on an hour long rant about vylad
Ask and you shall recieve, hope you dont regret that you asked. I did spent over a hour writing this btw. Good luck.
If you want me to do this for any other characters, i can do it for practically any of them. Especially Laurance lol.
Essay under the cut, obviously minecraft diaries spoilers.
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Vylad Ro'Meave is so heavily forgotten, but the ENTIRE story cannot be told without him. Despite his few and far in between appearances especially within season 1, he was the cogs of every major event.
He was the one who brought Aphmau to Phoenix Drop in the first place. If he hadnt done that, or had brought her anywhere else the story would be different from the very beggining. It was his deep rooted love for his family, his brother, that brought him to leave her there. An excuse, to watch over his brother despite knowing he himself could not reach out.
We dont know a whole lot about how Shadow Knights work, but we know they are fundementally no longer human. Shells of what once was perhaps, but no longer functioning on the needs of a human. How long would it take to forget those needs when one has no such urgency for them?
Despite his lack of need to eat, rest, to simply be human, Vylad single handedly took a baby halfway across the Ru'aun region. Which is over a weeks journey when Aphmau made the same trek in search of Levins mother, AND she had a horse for part of it, which effectively evened out the time she spent with the crime scene in the neopolitian villages along the way.
Vylad did it in the shadows, hiding and sneaking the whole way there. While tending to a nearly newborn baby, despite never doing so before and not being human enough to have the same needs. He managed to do that, extending the length it probably took, just to bring Levin to Aphmaus door.
He gave up years of freedom for the story.
When Aphmau and Laurance entered the shadow realm in search of saving the chicken shaman, they only just made an escape. Laurance stayed behind, but Vylad was the one who saved Aphmau and Castor. He was the one who shut the portal. He couldnt do anything for Laurance then, but he did everything he could.
He suffered for that choice. He was imprisoned, and tortured for sealing the shadow realm off from the mortal realm once more. Vylad was sent to rot in that cell, with no one to his side but Laurance.
Laurance had been the only visitor who still saw Vylad as something other then a traitor, and saw him as a person. He made a promise to get Vylad out of there, but ultimately Ungrth came to save Laurance, leaving Vylad to continue to lay waiting.
We know that time works differently between the realms, the shadow realm/nether has a slower passage of time then the overworld, but not as slow as irenes dimension. A overworld day is several weeks in the shadow realm, prolonging the true amount of time Vylad remained prisoner.
In season 2 Zenix's rampage of the shadow realm began, and thus gave way to Vylads escape. We dont know if he had been out of his cell before that or not, presumably not, but he was the only one known to leave the portal- as he stayed guard in the abandon werewolf village outside it from the day he escaped.
We can presume he spent the whole 15 years imprisoned, multiplied by the time passage difference, he effectively spent over 200 years imprisoned for helping Aphmau escape.
And upon Aphmau finding him there, her first instinct is to lie to him when he asks about Garroth. And tells him hes dead.
Her first full conversation with him, and she sends him into a full blown mental breakdown in the first 5 minutes.
Of course after Aph tells him the truth, and about the portal, and everything else going on, Vylad chooses to go with her. He finally begins to hold more presence in the story, but still is commonly off screen.
Such as in Nahakra village arc, he isnt around until the very end when the group is forced to flee. He is seen burning any maps and books containing information on Phoenix Drop, aside from the Ru'aun map they take with them. While everyone else was hurried and running, Vylad was doing what he could to keep Tu'la from knowing about the other side of the region, to protect Phoenix Drop as best he could.
Vylad fades into the background again, until the journey to find a new home for the phoenix alliance begins. It is when they arrive at the island that he really makes a pivotal scene, being the one to confront Laurance.
Its a mostly off screen development, Vylad seeking out Laurance to help him. No one asked him to, but he saw Laurance struggling between his remaining humanity and the calling of his shadow knight being. He was also the one who followed Laurance when he started to go awol, keeping a silent watchful eye on him.
When things went from bad to worse, he went to Aphmau to tell her about Laurance. At the same time as Aaron died and Garroth was free from the irene dimension. Although a awkward revelation, Vylad and Garroths short reunion is one of the most important scenes to me in the story.
Two brothers who cared deep for family, reunited for the first time in atleast two decades.
On the journey to the new home of the phoenix alliance, Vylad had told Aphmau he died by murder, stabbed in the back. Heres my theory, that i always tell anyone who will listen.
I believe Zane is the one who is at fault for Vylads murder.
Zane was always corrupt, as in Garroths recollections of his younger brother, and simply in every single action we see Zane take. We know by Vylads retelling, Zane despised his half-brother. He never saw Vylad as his family, he thought of him as less than dirt and often didnt acknowledge him.
Either Zane himself was the one to stab and kill Vylad, or he had been the one to hire someone to do it. Both are likely, he would do it himself for the pure enjoyment of disposing of Vylad, or hire someone else to do it just to ensure everything went to his wicked plans and the world would be none the wiser to the truth of his demise.
But despite his death and rebirth as a shadow knight, he kept that deep-rooted love for family that he should have casted aside.
He has 0 hesitation when he follows Garroth to O'Khasis when he finds out about thier mothers impending execution. The two of course went on a rampage to free her, and after end up going to Hyria's to learn more of the past history.
Thus, when the others learn of Vylad bringing Aphmau to Phoenix Drop.
One prominent fact about Vylad that is shown so clearly, is his hyppocracy.
When hes telling Aphmau about how Laurance was struggling because of his clinging to his humanity and his emotions, hes acting as if he himself has truly rid himself of emotions.
But he did not. His love is deep within him, his caring and his kindness. That is why he continously fought for his family, protecting his mother and elder brother with his everything, risking his life and his freedom for near strangers.
Yet, he thinks of himself as a bad person.
" One good deed does not fix a thousand wrongs done. " he had said, but he has a list of good deeds he has done.
He did follow the demands of the Shadow Lord when he first became a shadow knight, but at the same time he was already branching away from orders.
He is also the only shadow knight whom we know never attempted to gain immortality, or felt the urge of it. (Aside from Amethyst, the old woman from Pikoro, who we dont know much more then she is no longer a active Shadow Knight.)
Even Laurance left because he felt the calling too strong, and as stated by Sasha at the end of season 2, Aphmau would be killed if Laurance tried to see her again.
In what was made of the third season, Vylad has gone off screen once more. We were told about Garte escaping into Tu'La, and Vylad went after him.
We dont know precisely why Vylad went after his so called adoptive father, but my hopes and theory is that he was playing executioner. He should be the one to hold Garte accountable for the crimes he had done to his people, and for his misstreatment of family.
After all, if Garte had been a good man, Vylad would never have been born. But his neglect of his family had led to Zianna's affair, and Vylads birth. Even then wasnt enough to bring Garte permanently out of his tyranny.
If Vylad were to be the one to kill Garte, he supposedly should gain his immortality. To kill a lord, who is also family. Though Vylad could never claim to love Garte im sure, and he never would even before his death. But the lordship may be enough to give Vylad immortality.
We know that gaining immortality is not a immediate end for a kind shadow knights good heart, as Vincent has his immortality, and yet Cadenza trusts him fully; and he is absolutely devoted to protecting his home, his people.
Vylad gaining immortality, would overall be a good thing for him. He out of everyone knows how good people do not live forever, while the evilest in the world live with longevity. With his immortality, he would rewrite his sins, atoning for them by living a eternity fighting against the monster from which he was reborn.
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