#Bachelor Of Library and Information

[babymagazinewizard]

Bachelor of Library and Information Science: Know the full form, course duration, eligibility, syllabus, and future job prospects.

[apassingbird2]

i'm officially done with uni bless

[e-louise-bates]

Kinda funny how I actually enjoyed cataloging when I was working in a library, but now that I'm taking a class on cataloging my brain has started shutting down at the very mention of the word ...

[ushamartinuniversity]

B.L.I.S Admission 2025 Open- Course Details, Fees & Career Opportunities

About Library Information Science B.L.I.S.  Course:

Students interested in library management, information science, digital archiving, and knowledge organization can enroll in the one-year undergraduate Bachelor of Library and Information Science (B.L.I.S.) program. Students who complete the course will have the abilities needed to efficiently manage and arrange information in corporate settings, research institutes, libraries, and archives. Typically lasting one year (two semesters), the B.L.I.S. degree aims to give students an education in research methodology, digital archiving, library management, and information technology.

Eligibility Criteria B.L.I.S. Admission 

A bachelor’s degree in any field from an accredited university with at least 50% of the possible points (may differ by institution) is a prerequisite.

No particular subject background is necessary for admission; however, certain colleges may demand an entrance exam or interview.

Core Subjects in B.L.I.S. Course 

The Function of Libraries in Society o Public, Academic, and Special Library Types o Library Law and Associations

Theory and Practice of Library Cataloging: The Goals and Uses of Cataloging o Classified and Dictionary Catalog Types o Standards: AACR-II, MARC, RDA.

Information Sources and Services o Print and Digital Resources o Reference and Referral Services o Bibliographic and Current Awareness Services o Types of Information Sources (Primary, Secondary, Tertiary)

 Library Information Technology o Computer and Networking Fundamentals o Library Automation Software ,Digital Libraries

Library Science Research Methods o Fundamentals of Research and Report Writing o Data Gathering and Analysis o Citation Styles (APA, MLA, Chicago)

 Digital Libraries and Knowledge Management o Overview of Digital Libraries o Open Access Programs (DOAJ, OAI-PMH) o Preservation of Digital Content and Copyright Concerns

 Automation and Networking in Libraries o Software for Library Management (ILS, OPAC) o RFID and Barcode Technology in Libraries o Networks for Libraries (INFLIBNET, DELNET).

Project work and internships; practical instruction in a library or information center; library science dissertations or case studies

Classification of Libraries (Theory & Practice):  Fundamental Ideas of Library Classification o Categories (Universal Decimal Classification, Dewey Decimal Classification) o Labeling, Indexing, and Filing

Additionally, students can also learn about E-Resource Management (E-books, E-journals, Digital Repositories),Artificial Intelligence in Library Science ,Big Data & Analytics in Information Science ,Patent Information System & Intellectual Property Rights (IPR)

Skill Development in B.L.I.S. Course –

By the end of the program, students gain expertise in:

Library classification & cataloging

Digital library management

Use of library automation tools

Archival and preservation techniques

Data organization & retrieval

Course Details Subjects Covered in B.L.I.S. as a Library Science Degree Course –

Library Classification and Cataloging

Information Sources and Services

Digital Libraries & Information Technology

Research Methods in Library Science

Knowledge Organization and Information Retrieval

Library Automation and Networking

Career Opportunities After B.L.I.S. Course –

Graduates can work in various roles such as:

Librarian (Schools, Colleges, Universities)

Archivist (Museums, Research Institutions)

Information Officer (Government & Corporate Organizations)

Digital Librarian (Online Libraries, IT Companies)

Cataloger / Indexer (Publishing Houses, Media Companies)

Library Assistant (Public & Private Libraries)

Importance of B.L.I.S Programmes:

The Bachelor of Library and Information Science (B.L.I.S.) is a specialized degree that prepares students for careers in library management, information organization, and digital archiving. The study of B.L.I.S. is important for several reasons:

Career Opportunities in the Information Sector

B.L.I.S. graduates can work as librarians, archivists, information officers, and digital curators in public libraries, academic institutions, research centers, corporate organizations, and government agencies.

The rise of digital libraries and data management has increased the demand for information professionals.

Enhancing Information Management Skills

The program teaches cataloging, classification, indexing, and documentation, which are essential skills for organizing and retrieving information efficiently.

Students also learn about digital libraries, database management, and emerging technologies in the field.

Role in Education and Research

Librarians play a crucial role in helping students, researchers, and professionals access accurate and reliable information.

B.L.I.S. graduates support academic research, digital archiving, and preservation of knowledge.

Digital Transformation and IT Integration

With the advancement of technology, library science now includes digital resource management, e-learning platforms, and knowledge organization.

Courses in information technology, artificial intelligence, and big data help students stay relevant in the digital age.

Contribution to Society and Literacy

Librarians and information professionals help promote literacy, reading culture, and lifelong learning.

They assist in making information accessible to all, including marginalized communities.

Opportunities for Further Studies and Specialization

Graduates can pursue higher education such as Master of Library and Information Science (M.L.I.S.), Ph.D., or certifications in digital librarianship, data science, and knowledge management.

Job Security and Growth

Information professionals are essential in all industries, making library science a stable career choice.

With the digitalization of records and increased demand for information organization, career growth in this field is promising.

Studying B.L.I.S. is valuable for those interested in information management, library services, and digital archiving. The degree not only provides diverse career opportunities but also plays a crucial role in knowledge dissemination, education, and research in the modern world..

Why Choose UMU for B.L.I.S. in India?

✔️ Growing demand for library professionals in digital and corporate sectors ✔️ Flexible learning options (Regular & Distance Mode) ✔️ Opportunities in both government and private sectors ✔️ Further studies available (M.L.I.S., Ph.D. in Library Science)

Usha Martin University invites applications for its BLIS Admission 2025 (Bachelor of Library and Information Science) program for the 2025 academic session. This program is designed for aspiring library professionals, equipping them with expertise in information management, digital archiving, research methodologies, and library automation systems. Graduates can pursue careers in academic libraries, research institutions, digital libraries, and corporate information centers.

Take the first step towards a promising career in Library and Information Science. Apply now!

[prythianpages]

Jealousy, Jealousy | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader | Eris finds himself comforting you after a failed attempt at a courtship.

a/n: This takes place before Down to You and also before UTM. I forgot UTM was a thing lol. A little over 4K words. I had no idea what to name this one and Olivia Rodrigo's song came on and I said, you know what...hell yeah. Also, Autumn Court gives me Bridgerton vibes so I kind of wrote a crossover of that in here (hello Lord Debling lol.)

warnings: courtship politics, mild angst, eris does his best at comforting

The Forest House was always its brightest this time of the year.

Amber light flickered from thousands of lanterns strung between the ancient trees. Crimson leaves danced through the air like confetti with every breeze. The air was rich with many scents– roasted nuts, cinnamon, and sweet wine. The start of the fall festival had always been a week-long celebration, but the opening ball was its jewel. 

A lavish affair that promised happy stomachs, dancing, gossip, and opportunity.

You tugged at the bodice of your dress, the one your mother had bought you just for tonight. It was cut a touch too low yet still modest enough to pass Autumn’s standards. The color was a deep shade of red that glimmered when you moved, accentuated by the gold jewelry you wore. Your mother claimed it brought out your eyes. Your father, on the other hand, had not been so happy to splurge on the dress.  

"You're not getting any younger, girl. Best catch someone before you're left to rot in the library with your old books,” he had muttered.

So you smiled, lifted your chin, and straightened your spine—just as you were taught in etiquette class. Despite the weight of tonight’s expectations, court events like this have always been your favorite. You spent them mingling with noble ladies, exchanging gossip while quietly collecting information, and dancing with Autumn’s eligible bachelors as you surveyed your ever-shifting pool of prospects.

Your eyes scanned the grounds. You weren’t looking for him but your eyes found him regardless.

Eris Vanserra.

He was leaning against a table in conversation with one of Autumn’s lower ranking generals. His expression was unreadable. Of course it was. It always was when out in public. It was only when you were tangled together in secret that you’d catch glimpses of the real Eris.  

But this wasn’t a night for Eris. No, tonight you were the daughter of a noble lord and you were determined to find a potential prospect. Your head turned and your gaze landed on an older male. 

Lord Debling. 

He had been married once, years ago—left a widower far too soon when his young wife succumbed to an illness not long after their wedding. She hadn't had the chance to give him an heir, something you knew he wanted, given his rising age. Though much older than you, he seemed pleasant and kind-eyed. You’d spoken with him before, listened to his stories of his travels across Prythian and his love for studying birds.

He smiled at you as you made your way toward him. The look he gave you was detached but impressed. Still, it was one of the kinder, more respectful looks you’d received tonight. You’d danced with him at other balls, charmed your way into his good graces by asking thoughtful questions about all his interests. With all the gossip swirling around Autumn, gathering information on him had been laughably easy. Piquing his interest? Even easier.

He always asked you for a dance if he saw you. You probably danced with him more than you had with Eris or any of the Vanserra brothers. You shook your head at the thought, not wanting to cloud your thoughts when you had a game to play. Even if Eris was—

No.

Focus, you told yourself, willing a smile to your face as you politely greeted Lord Debling.

”You’re breathtaking tonight, Lady y/n.”

”Only tonight?” 

Lord Debling’s dark eyes widened in mild panic. “No—that’s not what I meant. You’re always beautiful—you’re—“

“Thank you,” you said, voice gentle and sweet so as to not offend the interruption.

His eyes eased, a blush on his face. You liked how easy he was to fluster. “Would you honor me with a dance, my dear?” he asked, much more confident, offering his arm.

“How could I possibly say no to your Lordship?” you replied, slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow. “I was hoping you’d ask. I find myself enjoying your company.”

He chuckled, guiding you to the floor. “You say that now, but wait until I start detailing the mating rituals of the bowerbirds. Fascinating creatures. The males can be quite creative when it comes to attracting their mates.’”

“Creative, are they?” you said, tilting your head. “How so?”

Lord Debling’s eyes lit up, the two of you continuing to dance. “Well, the males spend days building elaborate structures. They’re called bowers, hence the name. The males decorate them with anything shiny or colorful they can find. All to impress a female.”

“Shiny trinkets and elaborate displays to woo a mate? Sounds awfully familiar, don’t you think?”

“You think the males of our courts are comparable?”

“Oh, hardly. It seems the bowerbird at least puts in the effort.” You leaned in just slightly, voice lower as the song slowed down. “Some lords think a title alone should do the work.”

Lord Debling laughed, the sound low and genuine. Just as you suspected he would. He spun you around as the song came to an end. Then, he leaned in with a small smile.  “And what would impress you, Lady Y/n? A tower of pretty pebbles? A hall of flowers?”

You pretended to ponder, lips curving. “Mm, perhaps—”

“Pardon me, Debling.”

A new voice slid between you like a blade.

Jayce Vanserra.

He stepped forward just as the orchestra transitioned to a new song, not even bothering to look at you. “May I?”

It wasn’t a question. His tone was clipped with that familiar Vanserra command. Lord Debling hesitated for a blink but then, he dipped his head and stepped aside with a polite, if somewhat tight, smile.

You barely had time to say anything before Jayce's hand claimed yours and his other settled on your waist with a grip just a touch too firm. He swept you into the next dance with ease.

“I wasn’t aware you were in the market for a husband,” he said, voice low but pointed.

“A lady of my age and standing is always in the market for a husband,” you responded with a slightly tense smile. “I find it wise to keep good company at events such as these.”

Jayce let out a laugh and your stomach twisted with unease. “And you consider Debling good company?”

“I consider him kind,” you replied, your words genuine. 

“Kind?” he repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it bland. “That’s what you’re after in a husband? Kindness?”

His gaze flicked toward where Lord Debling now stood, politely nodding as a cluster of noblewomen swarmed him. You followed the look and frowned faintly, feeling your heart sink a little. You’d worked to build a window with Debling, and now you worried it was closing.

Jayce noticed.

He leaned in just a little, his breath grazing your temple as he steered you into another turn. You were keenly aware of every inch between your bodies, how he narrowed it on purpose. “How terribly sweet,” he said. “Though I’d imagine a woman like you would want… more.”

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with careful composure. It was strange. He shared Eris’s calculating gaze but none of the practiced control or subtle restraint in his eyes. How could two brothers share something in common yet be so different from one another.

“More?” you echoed softly, teetering on the edge of a dangerous game. 

One you hadn’t expected to play tonight. Sure, you had shared some words and dances with Jayce before. But they had always been curt and polite, formalities given your father’s position in his father’s inner circle.

“Kindness is what you settle for,” he said, voice dipped in disdain. “Debling’s a weak-hearted male who is more interested in feathers and bird chirping. He gives away smiles and flattery like sweets. Me? I don’t hand out crumbs of affection.”

You didn’t respond, didn’t trust yourself to speak. His presence pressed in, too close for your comfort. And though he must’ve seen the discomfort in your eyes, he didn’t stop.

“I don’t waste time on flowers or flattering lies,” he went on, his hand flexing ever so slightly on your waist. “I take what I want and I know how to keep it.”

Your feet stumbled, breath hitching in your throat. He caught you with ease, pulling you steady, almost as if he had been expecting it.

“Kindness doesn’t win wars. Doesn’t keep a woman safe or warm or fed. What I can offer, the security, the name–” he leaned closer, the heat of his words brushing your skin. “… is actually worth having.”

He paused, letting that implication hang in the air. Panic rippled through you. Jayce Vanserra was not a male to be courted and definitely not one you wanted to entertain at all. He was charming to a point but overall, dangerous and unpredictable. The least favorable of the single Vanserra brothers. 

You gathered yourself. Just barely. “Pardon if this comes off as rash, my Lord,” you said with forced grace, “but I wasn’t aware you were in the market for a wife.”

Jayce’s lips curled up into a smirk, smug and slow. “I suppose I am on the same page as you. A male of my age and standing is also always on the market for a wife.”

The song finally came to an end.

Jayce released you but his hand lingered at your waist just long enough to make your skin crawl. He stepped back with a shallow, almost mocking bow. You returned the gesture, much more graceful and polite, despite the fear coursing through your veins.

”Thank you for the dance, my Lord,” you murmured, gaze low.

“You should be careful, Lady Y/n,” he said and you could hear the sickening smirk in his tone. “Pretty things attract attention…but not all attention is safe.”

You turned, desperately needing a breath and some good distance between you and Jayce. As you made your way toward the refreshment table, your heart still skittering, your eyes met a familiar pair of amber ones.

Eris.

He stood across the room, half-turned in conversation. His gaze was already fixed on you. There was a flicker of concern there. One that held you still for a heartbeat and then you were blinking, turning your head away.

You feared if you kept gazing into those eyes, it’d be your undoing.

**

You were seated in the breakfast room, the clink of silverware the only sound breaking the stiff silence every now and then. Your father didn’t bother looking up from the morning dispatch, letting out a small exhale that had your mother’s teacup pausing in mid-air.

“Well,” he said curtly, “it seems you’ve lost Lord Debling.”

Your stomach sank. “What?”

Your mother set down her cup slowly. “Lady Selene’s daughter has managed to secure his attention. And quite swiftly, too. I imagine he didn't waste time once he heard you were otherwise occupied.”

“Occupied?” you repeated, barely able to keep your voice steady.

Your father folded the paper and finally looked at you, his expression unreadable but not kind. “Word is, Lord Jayce Vanserra has shown interest. But more importantly, there are rumors you’ve returned it.”

“That’s not true,” you said quickly, heat rushing to your cheeks. Your mind whirled back to memories from last night. Had you somehow led him on?  “I—”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true,” your mother interrupted, her tone sharp and gaze hardened in disappointment. “Selene’s daughter made use of it. She claimed she’d heard from you yourself. Debling, of course, took the hint.”

You stared at them, wide eyed for a moment. You then looked down at the poached egg on your plate, no longer having the appetite for it.

Your father’s eyes narrowed and you felt them boring into you.  “Honestly, if you were going to entertain a Vanserra, couldn’t you have picked the right one?”

The blood drained from your face. “The right—?”

“The heir,” your mother said bluntly, not even bothering to look up from buttering her toast. “If you’re determined to aim for a Vanserra, at least let it be one who comes with a greater title. Not the reckless younger son with no sense and worse impulse. I’d say even the one with a rumored gambling addiction would be a better option…”

You swallowed hard, mouth dry. They didn’t know. Of course they didn’t, you and Eris were discreet.

They didn’t know that the “right” one had already been yours in secret. That his hands had already memorized the shape of your hips, his mouth had kissed you like a man starved and his voice had gone hoarse when he whispered your name into the hollow of your throat–

You cleared your throat, keeping your gaze low. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, swallowing the ache blooming in your chest. “I’ll be more careful with those I entertain dances with next time.”

**

You stood in the center of one of the less frequented courtyards within the Forest house. One arm wrapped around yourself, the other holding a warm apple turnover. You bit into it hard, chewing furiously as you stared at the stone fountain long since run dry, eyes burning.

You couldn’t believe the turn of events. How for one moment, you had the prospect of a courtship. Something steady, something safe. And then the next, it was gone. Slipped through your fingers like sand, like so many other things in your life you weren’t allowed to hold. It stung more than you’d expected. Not because you had feelings for Lord Debling. Cauldron, no. It was that he offered a future you could live with.

And now, the only prospect you had at the moment was the wrong one.

You didn’t even want to think of his name, didn’t want to give it any power, as if that might make the idea go away.

Your thoughts, as they so often did when in need of a distraction, drifted to Eris.

The older brother. The heir. The one your parents would’ve been more inclined to accept, had he shown interest in you. And in some ways, he had… but only in secret. What existed between you and Eris had always been physical. A mutual need for release, a mutual understanding. There was an odd comfort in it, even a strange sort of friendship that had formed. 

Though, never anything more. It couldn’t be anything more.

Eris didn’t love. He didn’t court or make promises. You knew he had lovers before you, females who kept his bed warm at night but they were just…that. He’d leave when they’d start to get attached. You weren’t special and you would be no different. He gave you his body and company. 

But his future? You’d learned not to expect it. That would never be on the table.

So you’d often remind yourself not to get attached, not to hope for anything more. Because whatever it was you currently shared, it was…good. Good enough to keep craving, to keep wanting more. Even though, sometimes, you hated yourself for craving it.

Footsteps approached from behind, pulling you from your thoughts. They were too familiar not to recognize now. You didn’t turn. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be inside planning your wedding to my brother?” came Eris’s smooth, irritatingly amused voice.

You sighed, jaw tightening. “So you heard too, huh?”

You glanced over your shoulder and you couldn’t stop it–the way your heart fluttered at the sight.

Leaning in the shadow of the oak trees that bordered the courtyard’s edge, Eris looked every inch the heir to Autumn. Wearing red-and-gold armor, the polished breastplate caught the golden light of the late afternoon. His long red hair was damp with sweat, pushed back from his brow, a few stray strands curling where they brushed the metal of his shoulder.  

His gaze burned into you as he said flatly, “you’re not marrying him.”

You don’t know why you said it, why you got so defensive all of a sudden. The words slipped before you could think twice. “That’s not your decision to make.”

Eris arched his brow, amber eyes glinting in challenge. He moved closer, casually closing the distance until you could feel the heat radiating from his skin. His gaze flicked to your lips, and before you could react, he lifted a hand to brush a crumb from the corner of your mouth. 

“It can be,” he said quietly, his fingers lingering at your face.

Your brows furrowed in question, a sense of apprehensive relief taking hold over you. He must’ve sensed it himself because he added: “Don’t worry. Jayce likes pretty things as much as I do. But he gets bored easily. Just make sure not to outshine everyone at the next ball and he’ll forget he even offered you a proposal.”

You shoved his hand away and shot him a look. A half-glare, half something else entirely as his words stirred something in you. They brought some relief but they also made something tighten low in your stomach, your mind choosing to focus on the subtle compliment instead. And then, you cursed at yourself for letting that get to you. 

“Oh, come on,” Eris said with a grin. “Are you really moping over Lord Debling?”

“Why?” you snapped, heat rising to your cheeks. “Are you jealous?”

**

Eris chuckled. “No.”

A lie.

He had no claim to you. Still, the jealousy stirred in his chest all the same. He’d watched as you danced with others, as your smile lit up the ballroom in ways that made his throat tighten. He could’ve asked you for a dance. He’d done so before. But last night? Last night, in that new red dress of yours, you were stunning and radiant. He hadn’t trusted he’d be able to hold back if he got close to you. Another truth he would not give voice to.

“I don’t understand why you see it as a loss,” he said, tone casual and a bit careless. “An absent husband? Not much of a good life there.”  

What he meant was: What was so special about him anyway? 

And somewhere, deep down, a part of him also asked: what does that wretched male have that he doesn’t?

“It would’ve been a good life for me,” you replied quietly. “Maybe not perfect, but good. He would’ve traveled often, left me to manage his estate. I’d have the freedom to do as I pleased—read, plan and host household festivities. I’d give him an heir or two… or four.”

“Four?” Eris echoed, blinking.

“I can have the family I want,” you continued. “All sharing the same first letter to their name and close in age range so they’d look coordinated in family portraits.”

Eris nearly laughed. It sounded absurd. Delusional, even. And yet, there it was again, that same prickling jealousy.

“You’d be raising them alone,” he said, more bitterly than intended. “Doubt a male like him would halt his travels long enough to be a father. He’d probably love his birds more than his own kin.”

Lord Debling only wanted someone to carry his legacy as all males did. Eris couldn’t see the appeal. What legacy? Golden eggs?

“It would’ve worked,” you murmured. “I would’ve made it work. It wouldn’t have been love but it would’ve been safe.” You shrugged, a gesture of nonchalance that dug under his skin. “A small price to pay.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s small.”

You shot him a look and he met it with one of his own. The corners of his mouth tugged into the ghost of a smirk.

“How’d you find me anyway?” You asked.

“I can scent you anywhere.”

It wasn't just the sweet and rich perfume of your skin but the presence of you. The way the air shifted when you were near. The way the world felt… less dull.

There was no ulterior motive or reason for him to find you. It was still daylight and most of your endeavors occurred at night. He simply wanted to see you.

“Should I be concerned?”

His eyes swept over you, slow and unhurried.  “Only if you want to be,” he said, letting the words stretch. “Though, it’s safe to assume you find my company invigorating and…pleasuring.”

Something Lord Debling would never be able to give you, he wanted to add. Though, he worried the bitterness of it would give his jealousy away to you.

Your breath hitched, head turning away toward the old stone fountain, before huffing out an exhale. He caught the faint flush rising to your cheeks and he held onto the sight greedily, reveling in the way you didn’t deny it. It brought forward that strange, warm flutter in his chest that only ever seemed to occur when you were near.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the breeze stirring leaves around his boots and the bottom of your dress. He watched the way the breeze moved your hair, brushing it against your cheek. Something in your gaze softened and he wanted to reach out.

But then you spoke, your words catching him off guard. “What about you? No plans to marry? To have a family of your own?”

He tensed before he could stop himself. “No.”

Another lie or as he rather put it, another truth he chose to withhold. Either way he put it, it was complicated. 

You turned your head back to him and looked at him. For a moment, he worried you might see through his armor and catch a glimpse of the ceaseless war within.

Because a part of him wanted it too. A wife, a family. Something soft, something entirely his. Something built on love, something so different to what he grew up with.

Yet, another part of him feared it. He had been raised in a house of pressing silences and cruel words. His parents were bound not by affection but by alliance. There had been no warmth, only duty and the sharp edge of disappointment.

He didn’t want that.

Some twisted, broken part of him feared it was inevitable. That no matter how deeply he wanted to be different, he would fail. So he buried the dream again, smothering it like embers in ash.

“It’s not your loss but Lord Debling’s,” he said quietly. “Someone better will come along for you. I’m sure of it.”

It was his turn to look at you–really look at you. You were a treasure, more than you realized. You deserved more than a lukewarm marriage with a male who'd treat you like an accessory to his legacy. You deserved better than him too, if he were being honest.

“That’s kind of you to say,” you replied, eyes glistening.

"Don't get used to it."

Without warning, as if to prove his words, he reached for your hand—the one still holding the remains of your apple turnover. He snatched the pastry, popping it into his mouth with ease.

“Hey! That was—”

“You weren’t finishing it,” he said, savoring the new glare you sent his way the same way he did the pasty. He finished chewing and swallowed it quickly, licking a smudge of filling from his fingertip like he was sampling something divine.

“That was my favorite part," you insisted. Though, he doubted your words. No sane person would favor the hard end of a pastry.

Eris leaned in, the corner of his mouth curling. His hand came up to your neck, thumb grazing your jaw as he tilted your face toward his.  “Well,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes. “If you’re so inclined for a taste…”

It was a tease, of course. A distraction meant to draw your attention away from the ache that had settled within your eyes. You didn’t kiss him.

Instead, you laughed, your head dropping forward against the cool metal of his armor. Yet, it was strange the way he felt the pressure in his chest ease. 

Eris stood awkwardly still, suddenly aware of his hand still resting at your neck. He hesitated and then, he slowly slid his fingers into your hair, combing through it gently. He couldn’t care less that you hadn’t kissed him. He let you lean against him, let the echo of your laugh absorb into a place he didn’t often let anyone into. 

He wouldn’t say it aloud…but he was relieved things hadn’t worked out with Lord Debling. He knew Jayce would find another pretty female to focus on soon enough. And though he meant what he said—that someone better would come for you—he hoped it wouldn’t be too soon.

Even if that hope was selfish.

a/n: Little does Eris know that, that person would be him...

Like I said, this was meant to be a comfort fic & then it turned into this lol. Hope you still like it regardless. Also added that bit with Jayce for a reason as we will come back to it in a future part 👀

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@sunny1616, @holb32, @gamarancianne, @daemyratwst, @ratgirl2020 @balufy

[acciojaeyun]

under the web | p.sh.

PAIRING. officemate!sunghoon x fem!reader

SUMMARY. there's something about the way people seemed to scurry about whenever park sunghoon from the IT department would be coming to whichever area of the office. that's something that would be all because of you, his lovely officemate. your constant teasing and mockery of that one thing you know about park sunghoon made it seem to reach the headlines, and park sunghoon was determined to let you know that you're not the boss here.

CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

SMUT WARNINGS. making out, humiliation, implied dom vs. dom dynamics, dirty talk, slight exhibition, curses, virginity, unprotected sex (please practice safe s), reader is a jealous menace (a bit stalker-ish), mentions of manga, mentions of other members, if i forgot some, lmk!

WORD COUNT. 4.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE. this will be my first ever sunghoon fic after a long while! i did take a hugeee slump after writing ( and had never been so inspired to write oneshots until now. and i'm such a sucker for glasses hoon and this is the product of it. thank you so much for reading! <3

MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It was an annoying morning.

Or well, for you, it was annoying. For you had to witness a group of interns gushing over the "guy with rolled sleeves and glasses making his coffee," and you scoffed when they mentioned that he looked like an Americano drinker, which, in their words, made him more attractive.

You rolled your eyes, the guy that they were talking about never liked Americano. In fact, his black instant coffee had the same amount, if not more, of cream added to his stainless steel coffee tumbler.

How did you know about that, though?

One thing about you was that you knew Park Sunghoon very well. He was the Class Salutatorian of Batch 2023, bachelor's in Information Technology. It was pretty impressive, if you were to ask everyone else. Park Sunghoon was immediately hired by the company that you are working in, and while you can say that Sunghoon did deserve both the position and the benefits, you couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve the attention men and women alike were pouring him.

Of course, if anything, it should be you showering him attention. But, you wouldn't do that. Not when you're Y/N Y/L/N. You're the darling of the company, the sweetheart, so to speak. Because even though you cannot be of the same level as that of talent, knowledge, and skill which Sunghoon possess along with his looks, you were a pretty hardworking person.

Being in the Marketing Department also had its hardships, and while you still pray for the day commoners stop shunning down your bachelors, you are able to supply yourself with your needs and wants just by exerting everything you've learned in business and people-speaking.

But there was something about Park Sunghoon that makes him your own thesis.

Your own skill in building relationships didn't seem to work on him as much as you had hoped. Okay, let's admit it, you had taken a liking into Park Sunghoon. The quiet IT Specialist that exuded looks that were enough to make women fall to their knees.

A little bit of chit-chat here and there, some subtle glances and light touches, you were still far from the starting line. Park Sunghoon still hadn't reciprocated at least a fraction of your advancement towards him.

And by now, you're almost as helpless as it could be as you're munching on your own lunch, eyes over the cubicle of the IT department, watching how Sunghoon eats his sandwich, gaze never leaving his computer as he typed in codes with his other hand.

"How's the thing with Mr. Cold guy doing?" Sunoo would nudge your side as he caught you staring at Sunghoon for the nth time today.

You rolled your eyes for the nth time today as well, "He's so annoying."

"Now, he's annoying? Please, Y/N, cut yourself some slack. You need to get humbled, too, you know?" The blonde boy laughed as he sipped on his coffee.

"I just don't know how he hasn't caught up on it yet," you groaned, stabbing your fork on the penne pasta that you had on your lunchbox, "I've been doing a lot! How come he's still oblivious!"

"That, or he knows and just doesn't want to do anything."

You furrowed your eyebrows at Sunoo, "What do you mean?"

"Please, you're practically throwing yourself at him, it's a miracle how he hasn't caught up on yet."

"Or, he's a virgin."

Sunoo laughed, "Maybe,"

A loud thud on your desk was heard throughout the department as you placed your lunchbox down, "I'll talk to him."

"Again?" Sunoo looked at you, bewildered. "And, while he's working?"

"What, can't he handle a little distraction?"

"With you almost pushing your boobs towards his face? I think not."

"You know what? Fuck you." You flipped your best friend off, making him laugh as he ate his tteokbokki happily, ready to see you in your downfall yet again.

You, on the other hand, were determined. Straightening your slacks and blouse, grabbing your laptop, you made your way over to the IT Department, greeting everyone along the way while making a beeline straight to Sunghoon.

"Hi," you greeted.

Sunghoon hummed, his eyes still not leaving his screen.

"I mean to come to you to help me with a feature on the application that we're using?"

The boy glanced at you, his chewing coming to a slow halt.

"What about it?"

"Oh, I was hoping that I can access the Network's files? I've forgotten my flash drive at home and I only have access to some of the files but it would be in Sunoo's disk."

Sunghoon flashed you an impressed look at your terms, at the bare minimum.

"It'd be against company policy to allow you to access other people's disks without their consent, Ms," Sunghoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "and besides, aren't you friends with Mr Kim, anyway? Why wouldn't you ask him directly?"

"Uh, well..." you trailed off, "well, Sunoo also has the copy of this file on his flash drive, and coincidentally, he has also forgotten it at home!"

The boy raised an eyebrow at you. He was not buying it, you thought.

But your thoughts were proven wrong as Sunghoon swivelled in his chair, clicking on the multiple tabs open until he had manipulated the system for the time-being upon your request.

Your hands glanced on his hands, so dainty, long, and pretty. You wondered how it would feel around your neck, or in your pussy.

"It'll be open only for your access, Ms," Sunghoon said, looking up at you, "I'll be resetting it to company's default after forty-five minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get your files?"

You nodded, "Yes, thank you,"

"Do you have anything else for me to help with?" Sunghoon looked at you with a raised brow, making you blush.

"N-No, not that I know of, thank you, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.

He merely nodded before opening his coding software, clearly blocking you out from all his senses as he returned to eating his sandwich and work.

You pursed your lips, inhaling a large breath as you excused yourself from his cubicle, greeting yet another group of people acknowledging your presence as you made your way out of their department.

You were not expecting what you are seeing.

Not at all.

Whatever it was, there seems to be a glitch in the system as you also had an access to Sunghoon's drive.

You see, it was not your fault you were a bit nosy over your crush. You had taken a liking in him, and maybe, you think, there may be some stuff about him in his drive that could let you know a little more about him.

If not him, then, maybe, technology, his trusted friend, could help you.

You've seen his curriculum vitae, all the data he's working with, his clients, as well as a folder of his personal stuff which included torrented movies.

You laughed, his degree really has his perks.

You were so close to clicking off the movie folder named "O", but as you clicked on the next folder, named "P," you gasped at the number of porn videos were downloaded into the folder.

And all of them had the same theme: office sex.

It maybe too much, but in your mind, it made sense, when you were noticing how each of the female partners had the same features as you. Smirking to yourself, you glanced a look at the IT Specialist, bingo.

Surprised would be an understatement when Sunghoon entered the pantry as he went through his usual routine: leave his things at his desk, make his creamy coffee, work, leave to buy Subway for lunch, work, leave at 5:30 PM sharp.

He was surprised when the first people in the pantry left as he entered the room, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard faint words such as, "porn," "boundaries," and "couldn't he have had downloaded it in his own laptop?"

Now, Sunghoon may have been overthinking. His quiet life at work was already enough for him. But there was something bugging him for the first time in his life as he placed water in his stainless cup, especially when after making his coffee, no one would even dare look at him as he made his way to his cubicle, men and women, alike, swivelling their chairs to move farther from him, as if he were a plague.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, it was getting to his nerves.

And if it weren't for Jake, his only friend in the department, who initially swivelled his chair away form Sunghoon, but then decided to swivel back as Sunghoon didn't even stand up for lunch, who told him about the rumours that spread about him, he wouldn't have known, and there was only one person who would have accessed his files.

You.

He snickered at the story Jake was telling him, and left Jake to his imagination whether the story was true or not, only giving him a shrug when the older did try to confirm to him.

"Believe what you want," Sunghoon responded, typing aggressively on his keyboard, "besides, I think you have, since you initially scooted away from me."

"Look, man," Jake scooted closer, whispering, "if it's not true, I could tell it to them, you know? I don't want them to think of you as some horny teenager who doesn't know about work boundaries."

"As if they're going to believe you," Sunghoon curtly responded before pressing a key harshly before looking at his friend, "if it came from Y/N, no one would even bat an eye at you."

"Y/N? Why her?"

"Only she had access to my files yesterday. Wouldn't it be too much of a coincidence if the story only spread now?" He chuckled, amused.

"So, it's true?"

Sunghoon shrugged again.

"Are you going to do something to address it?"

"Address it? What for? They already think I'm some horny dude, anyway."

"Well," Jake licked his lips, "just send me the stashes next time, too, okay?"

Sunghoon laughed.

Your plan was working.

A lot of people had taken their distances from Park Sunghoon. Making you think you're progressing at your plan to keep people away from him.

You can't help it. As long as there were hindrances in your way towards Sunghoon, you think there would be little chances to make your advances to him. You had yet to tell Sunoo, but you know that he was already aware of the rumour, and he would ask you about it after his client events.

So, while everyone had left Sunghoon alone in the pantry, that was your cue to enter the pantry. Making your way as calmly as possible to the counter as possible, you placed your food on the microwave, heating your breakfast as Sunghoon was stirring his drink in his cup.

"I never took you as the guy," you sighed, faking sympathy, getting more annoyed as you never got any reaction from the boy.

"I was expecting more from you, Mr. Salutatorian, I'm sure you know about policy since you were so high and mighty about it when I tried to get into Sunoo's files," you continued, watching his every reaction.

But he remained stoic. And that irked you.

You were about to open your mouth when the microwave had beeped, making you jump and take your food, frustrated over the fact that Sunghoon was ignoring you. Forgetting that it was still hot and you didn't retrieve the mittens beside it, you burned your fingers, finally getting Sunghoon's attention.

He discarded his coffee and immediately went his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your hand before examining your fingers, his eyes never leaving it as he tried to suck on it in attempts of both soothing the wound and seducing you.

Your breath hitched, making you look at him. What the hell was he doing?

"S-Sunghoon?"

He smirked at you as he pushed your fingers to his mouth, wetting your pointer finger with his warm tongue, only for him to retract it and swirl it on the tip of it.

"There's one menace between the two of us," Sunghoon whispered as he pulled away, leaning in to you, "and it's not gonna be you."

You let out a breath you didn't know you held as he pulled away and made his way out of the pantry.

Weeks later, you found yourself mad at Park Sunghoon.

Because after the incident at the pantry, he seemed to be hovering in your space more times than you would like. And while it did seem the best thing for you, it wasn't. For Sunghoon was not only hovering, but he made sure his presence was made known whenever he was around.

Holding on your waist, rubbing his crotch against your bum, rolling his sleeves whenever he knew you looked at him – while keeping his unbothered expression at his face.

Other than that, you were thinking he was losing his game as another person had suddenly took a liking into you. Food in carton boxes at your table by the morning you come in to work, and while you had hoped that it were him, your hopes were shut down as fifteen minutes after you had arrived from work, only had then Sunghoon, too.

Flowers were also hard to miss every week. There was a different flower every week, the whole department gushing whenever you grab a stem on your desk. And while you had hoped it was Sunghoon, again, you looked at his desk and see him in his natural habitat: working and face straight to the computer.

By this time, you had grown infuriated. Because you felt like he was toying with you. Especially when he was not paying you any attention at the Thanksgiving Party your office had held after reaching more than the targeted quarterly sales, and it was because of you! Why wasn't he giving you any attention?

Blame it on the alcohol in your system, and your innate drive to prove something to Sunghoon, a trait of yours that you have acquired overtime, you made your way towards the guy who was alone at the bar, nursing his on the rocks with his finger dancing around the rim of the glass.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" you spat, annoyed.

Sunghoon turned on his seat, smirking at you, "For being the best employee?"

"What else!"

He chuckled, taking a sip on his drink, "Congratulations, princess,"

You scoffed, "That's it?"

He grinned, "What, you'd want me to kneel for you?"

You were stunned. "You know what? Whatever, Sunghoon, I feel like I'm just a game to you, anyway."

And maybe that's what did it for Sunghoon, because the moment you uttered those words, you found yourself being pulled by your wrist outside of the ballroom you were in by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.

"Let go of me, Sunghoon!" you said as you tried to escape from his grasp.

But Sunghoon did not budge, he was determined on making you regret what you say. He pushed the fourteenth floor button, the floor where he was staying, and even though it took quite a while to get to the floor, Sunghoon didn't even try to lay his hands on you, it was better for him to do it on his bed, anyway.

Because you deserved it.

The moment the elevator doors opened, you found yourself being pulled to his room, with heavy breaths as he discarded his suit jacket on the couch, he turned around and met you in a passionate kiss, surprising both you and Sunghoon.

Ah, if there was one thing you didn't know about Sunghoon? Was the fact that he was a virgin. He never had any relationships in the past, and it had only been you whom he was very attracted by. So, it was bound to happen, perhaps. Sunghoon giving you his virginity in the hopes of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Sunghoon was a realistic man, of course, he knew that he was just your own entertainment. Having a lot of suitors here and there, he knew he had to step up his game.

That meant, letting you see through his drive because he was scared of doing the first move of asking you out on a proper date, because everyone was always first in doing so.

A few occurrences later, Sunghoon had decided on levelling his courtship up by bringing you food to your table the moment he gets to work. His bag still on his hand as he ordered your favourite meal as he sped placing it on your table before making his coffee.

Sunghoon had started realising that you liked flowers, so he had brought it upon himself to at least give you flowers every week, keeping it anonymous before he finally musters enough confidence to tell you that it was him who was giving you the gifts.

Not Jake, not Jay, and most certainly not Heeseung.

So, he hopes he had translated all of his misunderstood feelings into the kiss, cupping your jaw as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, swallowing the moan that you had blessed him.

"You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N," he groans into the kiss, "accusing me of playing with you when you were the one who started this in the first place." He trails off, his lips pressing onto your mouth up and down before stopping by the skin near your collarbones for him to suck.

You let out a whimper, too lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, "You drive me so fucking crazy, too," you start, letting your head fall back to have the boy kiss more of your skin, "I don't know what's on your mind most of the time." Sunghoon had found your sweet spot below your ear, making you gasp.

The boy hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so you could feel his hard cock pressed against you, "Well, it's about time you know that you take over the expanse of my mind, princess."

You were already soaking wet at this point, basking in how Sunghoon looked today, you swear you could feel yourself salivating over how he presents himself. You pull his face away from your neck, locking your lips in an uncoordinated kiss. "I need you, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon groaned, kissing you for a moment longer before abiding to his girl's needs. His cock was aching, and you needed him. It was time to cut the chase.

"My needy little slut," Sunghoon growls as he teased you by rubbing your clit over your panties, and when he slid his hands through her folds, he was met by pleasing wetness, making him chuckle, "You've been trying to fool everyone with how much of a sweetheart you are, angel," he hummed, rubbing his nose on the crook of your neck, "but you really are a menace. Wanting her Sunghoon to give all of his attention to her,"

"Y-Yes," You moaned, grinding your hips on his fingers, "M-My Sunghoon,"

And when he motions to remove his glasses, you tap his wrist and shook your head, making him realise you never want his glasses off, making him chuckle.

"You liked hearing it, don't you?" Sunghoon inquires as he pushes you to the bed, pulling you over the edge of it as he bites on your panties, pulling it down to pool on your ankles, "You love the idea of me being yours, don't you, Y/N?" He smiles as he sinks his finger in you, curling as you clench around you.

"Yes, I do - shit, Sunghoon!" You managed to say, "I did everything because I only want you! Only you!"

Sunghoon docks his head in between your thighs to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before pressing hot kisses into the expanse of your inner thighs, fluttering light kisses as his lips made its way to your folds, kissing it before he gives kitten licks to your bud.

Your back arches, satisfying Sunghoon with his little experimentation. He, then, soon, pushes another finger in as he started swirling his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit, making you thrash your legs everywhere.

He moaned when you clamped your legs around his face, urging him to continue his movements, "M' close, Hoon," you whispered, one of your hands leaving the sheets to tangle in his newly-cut hair, and with one more curl of Sunghoon's fingers, you were already tumbling over the edge, your cries of his name falling from your mouth.

"God, you're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispers as he cleans you off with his tongue, and when he was done, he pushes himself up as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers, discarding the article at some part of the room.

"I wanna ride you," You confess, making Sunghoon blush again, "oh, are you... is this your first time?" You asked, your eyes widening slightly as Sunghoon replied with a nod.

Your heart almost burst at his confession, making you sit up and pull him into a slow kiss, "I want to see how you'd look so damn sexy sitting on my cock, Y/N," Sunghoon breathes, "but I want- I need-"

"Take your time with me, Hoon."

A breath escapes you when Sunghoon finally gets you out of your dress, his hands immediately pinching at your nipple. And without another word, Sunghoon lifts your leg and lines himself to your entrance. And with a heavy breath in, he pushes in slowly, the roll of his hips feeling delicious until he's fully buried inside you, low moans heard throughout the room.

"I, fuck, Y/N," Sunghoon starts, groaning instead as you clench around him. Sunghoon hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head before resting his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes, "God, I love you so much, Y/N."

Before Sunghoon ever regrets he had confessed out of nowhere, you had already pushed your lips on his hungrily, meeting his thrusts, you let out a whine as Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper of you, the same time he rubs slow circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.

"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/N," he breathes, earning a chuckle from you as you say, "You're fucking me so good, Hoon,"

Sunghoon smiles at your continuous use of his nickname, before his eyebrows furrow as he lets out a breathless moan as he hit your g-spot, making you squeal, "Jesus, I'm not gonna last much longer!" you say, and you were quick to wrap your legs around his waist, aiming to feel him closer.

"Me either, darling," he whispers, "come with me, please?"

And with a few more thrusts, you feel yourself coming on him, your toes curling, back arching, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head, as your nails rake down Sunghoon's back from his nape. Your walls clench around his cock, making him also reach his climax. He cuts your moans as Sunghoon pulls you to him for a hungry kiss as he empties himself in you.

He slows his thrusts down as he helps you come down from your highs, his lips attached again to your jaw down to your neck, peppering light kisses. And sooner, Sunghoon pulls out and rolls onto his back, his arms around your waist to make you roll on top of him.

A silence was heard in the room as you mindlessly traced irregular shapes on the expanse of Sunghoon's pale skin. He feels like his heart is about to explode from mixed emotions, having the girl of his dreams on top of him, his virginity in your hands – but, at the end of the day, he's unsure about your feelings for him.

However, one thing's for sure: you were all Sunghoon had ever wanted and needed, no matter how much the world can prevent him from doing so.

"I mean every word I said," Sunghoon whispers, kissing your hair, a silent affirmation to the thousand words running in your head.

You giggled, "I feel like I'd look good bouncing on your cock, too, Sunghoon."

"N-Not that.." Sunghoon blushed, "I am really crazy for you, Y/N, but you know, we could just pretend it never happened and think this is a one time thing."

"That's so unfair of you," you say, looking up and leaning your chin on his chest, "because I'd rather have you bringing over lunch and flowers every time if that meant having you every day."

Sunghoon visibly relaxed, smiling at you warmly, "So, it's forever."

"It is."

© acciojaeyun, 2024.

[reiding-writing]

Can i get a workshop session? How about spencer with a reader who's actually smarter than him? Maybe she's younger too, thanksss

GENIUS² — SPENCER REID!

working alongside another genius was a blessing, in more ways than one.

early!seasons!spencer x reader | fluff | 1.3k | event masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n— the genius x genius trope is great i love it

Spencer Reid prided himself on being one of the smartest people in the room.

At 24 years old, he was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs under his belt, and an eidetic memory that made him practically a walking encyclopaedia.

His mind moved faster than 99.7% of the world’s population, processing information, analysing patterns, and solving puzzles with ease.

But none of that prepared him for you.

You were younger than him by two years, and while you didn’t have a wall lined with degrees like Spencer, your intelligence was undeniable.

A bachelor’s degree in Theoretical Physics had been enough to earn you a spot in the BAU, something that had surprised even you.

Hotch had seen something in you—your ability to not only understand the unsub’s behavior but to intuitively connect pieces of information in ways most people couldn’t. It was something the team found invaluable.

And it didn’t take long for Spencer to notice.

Where Spencer excelled in academic brilliance, you had a talent for thinking outside the box. You connected dots faster than most people even realized there were dots to connect.

Spencer was used to being the one with all the answers, the one who could solve problems others struggled with, but you? You were different. You weren’t afraid to speak up, even if it meant contradicting his carefully constructed theories. You didn’t care about bruising egos, least of all his, and it fascinated him.

The first time Spencer realised you were special was during a particularly tough case.

The team had been chasing down a serial killer for weeks—a cryptic unsub who left strange, undecipherable messages at each crime scene.

Spencer had spent hours poring over the notes, scrawling down numbers, symbols, and trying to make sense of the pattern, but nothing clicked. His frustration was palpable; his fingers were tapping restlessly on the desk, and his usually sharp mind felt like it was hitting a wall.

An iron wall, covered in spikes and barbed wire.

Then you had walked in. Quietly, unassuming, you hovered over his shoulder for a moment before making a suggestion that cut through his fog of confusion.

“You might be thinking about this too literally,” You said casually, your voice breaking through the silence.

Spencer looked up, frowning slightly, both intrigued and a bit defensive. “What do you mean?”

You slid into the chair next to him, your eyes scanning the pages spread out across his desk. “You’re trying to solve this like a mathematical puzzle, but uh— the letters in the corners of his notes are literally just spelling out ‘library’, so I went to the nearest library and spoke to the librarian on staff, she gave me this,”

You pull out a scrap piece of paper from your pocket and hold it out towards him, a handwritten poem.

Spencer blinked, the pieces clicking together in his mind with almost audible force as he took the poem from you.

You’d identified the connection instantly, something Spencer would have done himself had his mind not been knotted up in frustration. But instead of feeling defeated, he was astonished.

“How did you-?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You shrugged, as if it were obviousLooking at the bigger picture can be really useful sometimes,”

Spencer stared at you for a moment longer, watching as you calmly began jotting down more notes, your mind racing ahead as if you’d never even paused for breath. He realised, in that moment, that you weren’t just another member of the team. You were his equal—possibly even more than that.

From then on, Spencer found himself constantly intrigued by you. The two of you often ended up working side by side, bouncing ideas off each other in a way that was both exciting and intimidating for Spencer.

You were quick, your mind moving in a different way than his, and he found himself almost eager to keep up with your train of thought. You saw things he didn’t, caught details he might have missed, and he wasn’t sure how to handle that. No one had ever made him feel… not inferior, but challenged in such a unique way.

The conversations between you were often odd. Both of you were too intelligent for typical small talk, so you found yourselves discussing obscure facts or debating over scientific theories in the most random of moments.

Spencer would mention something about a 14th-century mathematician, and you would immediately counter with a parallel discovery made in physics centuries later. Neither of you really knew how to navigate personal conversations, so you stuck to what you both understood—facts, theories, and knowledge.

One evening, after a particularly long day spent on another complex case, the bullpen was empty except for the two of you. The team had gone home, but you stayed behind, just like Spencer always did, combing through the evidence again, searching for a missing piece.

You were seated across from him, your brow furrowed in concentration, scribbling notes onto a pad of paper.

Every few minutes, Spencer found himself glancing at you. It wasn’t something he could control—his curiosity about the way your mind worked was something that pulled him in, a constant mystery to unravel.

You were focused, absorbed in your task, and Spencer couldn’t help but admire how quickly you picked up on things. Sometimes, you were faster than him, and that realization both thrilled and unnerved him.

“You’re staring again,” you said, your voice breaking the silence without even looking up.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard, and you did it effortlessly. “I—I wasn’t staring. I was just… thinking.”

You finally looked up, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “What were you thinking about?”

He swallowed, his brain scrambling for an answer that didn’t sound ridiculous. “You’re really good at this,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your smirk softened into something more genuine. “You are too.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren’t his strong suit, and he wasn’t used to receiving them either. “I mean, you’re younger than me, but you’re just as—no, sometimes more—effective than I am. It’s… impressive.”

For the first time since he’d met you, you looked almost shy. “I’ve always looked up to you, you know,” You admitted quietly. “When I first started here, I thought you were kind of untouchable. Like, how could anyone keep up with a guy who knows literally everything?”

Spencer stared at you, speechless. The idea that you—someone he viewed as his intellectual equal, if not superior—had once looked up to him was almost unbelievable. It made him see you in a different light.

“Well,” he said, after a long pause, “I guess we keep each other on our toes.”

You smiled at that, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. It was a strange dynamic—two people too intelligent for normal conversations, yet too awkward to fully acknowledge the unique bond that had formed between you.

But it worked. You pushed each other, kept each other sharp. Whenever Spencer stumbled over an obscure reference, you were there to catch it. When you went too far into the realm of abstract thinking, Spencer reeled you back in with hard logic.

You were a perfect balance—an unstoppable team, even if neither of you would say it outright. And in a world where people rarely understood either of you, you had found something important in each other, an unlikely equal.

[allieebobo]

College Tennis: Origin Story

Demo | Characters | Dev log | Ko-fi

Sports x Slice-of-life x Romance x Coming-of-age x Found-family x College

Step onto the court and into the whirlwind life of a freshman at Cargill University, where tennis isn't just a game—it's everything.

Forge lasting friendships, pursue budding romances, face fierce rivals, and experience the emotional highs and lows of pursuing greatness on and off the court.

College Tennis: Origin Story plunges you into the heart of a high-stakes journey to reclaim the NCAA Div I championship title—compete in fast-paced singles and doubles matches alongside your teammates, all while navigating the pressures of college life.

Will you make a name for yourself as one of the most promising college tennis players in history? Or will the pressure prove too much for you to handle?

Full character customisation

Customise your gender, height, build, personality, physical appearance, languages spoken, tennis style, dominant hand, and more!

Strike a balance between: tennis, keeping up a rich social life, and maintaining your grades

Nail-biting tennis matches

Every match is different! Play matches throughout the fall and spring seasons, leading up to the NCAO championships—that is, if you make the Cargill team.

Intricate tennis game mechanics: Factors such as your condition/energy, preparation for the match, opponent's play style, doubles partner chemistry, as well as your choices at key junctures of the match etc. will affect the outcome of the match!

Craft your own distinctive playing style and make a name for yourself on the tennis court

Hone your strength, agility, finesse, serve-and-volley skill, and endurance over the course of the game!

Romance four possible characters

Rayyan Afiq, the gruff, hot-headed no. 1 seed

Guillaume/Geneviève Lavigne, the sardonic international student on your floor

Tobin Harris, the warm, unflappable team captain

Sam O'Connelly, your nerdy and spirited high-school best friend

And forge lifelong friendships with many more...

Rayyan Afiq The rival

Gender: Follows the gender of your team Age: 20 Nationality/Ethnicity: Egyptian-American

Student information: Junior, Anthropology major Player information: Vice-captain, No. 1 position, Aggressive Baseliner

Appearance: 5′6 (f) or 5′10 (m). Lean, athletic build. Dark, wavy curls, and thick sweeping eyebrows over piercing dark-olive eyes. Tawny, honey-brown skin.

Description: Surly, intense, and proud. Ambitious and driven to excellence in everything they do. Willing to give up almost anything for their tennis career. Has a soft-spot for cats. Loves organising things, has a plan for everything, and dislikes surprises.

Tobin Harris The captain

Gender: Follows the gender of your team Age: 20 Nationality/Ethnicity: African-American

Student information: Junior, History major Player information: Captain, No. 2 position, All-court player

Appearance: 5′9 (f) or 6′1 (m). Tall, solid build. Short black hair, warm, brown eyes and a calm, assured demeanour. Dark bronze skin. A smile that lights up the room.

Description: Kind, laid-back, selfless, and sociable. Goes out of their way to make everyone feel welcome, but has a tendency to stuff down their own emotions in the process. Surprisingly private and cautious when it comes to their own desires/wishes. Gentle to a fault, steadfast and unflappable. If not playing tennis, probably can be found cooking, hanging out with friends, or going to the library.

Geneviève/Guillaume Lavigne The exchange student

Gender: Gender selectable (f/m) Age: 20 Nationality/Ethnicity: Half French (father's side), half French-Canadian (mother's side)

Student information: Third year exchange student, Political science bachelor’s degree. Hall-mate.

Appearance: 5′6 (f) or 5′11 (m). Toned, supple build. Dark, tousled hair with fair skin. Smoky grey eyes, with a smattering of freckles. Permanent half-smile.

Description: Rarely excited or enthusiastic, always armed with a dry remark. Slightly cynical, but softer than they look. Very intelligent, though they don't often let on what they're actually thinking or feeling. Rich (and intensely private) inner world.

Sam O'Connelly The childhood best friend

Gender: Gender selectable (f/m) Age: 18, Freshman Nationality/ethnicity: American

Student information: Freshman, Undecided major. Player information: No. 6 position for the UCLA Bruins

Appearance: 5′4 (f) or 5′8 (m). Trim build, with a small frame. Curly russet hair that often sticks out in all directions. Mischievous light blue eyes and an infectious smile.

Description: Excitable, with a chaotic positivity that radiates from them like sunshine. Fun-loving and scattered, and nerdy. Competent tennis player, but too often distracted by other hobbies and interests. Somehow manages to survive on a diet of Cheetos and Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

More character descriptions here, face-claims here.

[troloxyn]

Self Control. (Jason Todd x Reader)

TW- Smut, drinking!!

One night at a party, you and Jason hook up, and now you're both too afraid to speak to one another. That is until he decides to help you with homework two weeks later, breaking the silence.

Listen, I haven't been able to do any school work because my mind decided it HAD to finish this first. so i hope yall enjoy! Deadass over five thousand words, I think my brain melted a little bit writing this.

Word count: 5,366

--

Having aspirations outside of vigilantism was ideal, as long as you could keep up with the pressure. Piles of overdue assignments, paperwork, case studies and unread emails clawed at her from inside of her computer. You should have something outside of your nightlife escapades- it was encouraged, expected. Keeping up with the workload was just second nature. Which right now, she could not. If she gave into the pressure of her inability to focus, she would have dropped out of her bachelors classes two semesters ago. However, the eating force of fear of failure won her over. Not only was she not one to accept failure, her entire ride to college was free- on behalf of the Wayne estate- and she definitely couldn’t disappoint him of all people. 

This one was destroying her. A case study in her criminal psychology class. If the world hadn’t moved digitally, her entire desk would be littered with notes. She avoided this project on purpose- and now that she came to face it, she realized perhaps waiting until a week before it was due was giving herself too much credit. She whisked through photos, police reports, fake-autopsies, psychologist interviews- the pages were on a never ending loop. She was tearing her hair out by the time she made it to the end of the information portion, her wrist becoming sore from endless clicking. Time to focus. Lock the fuck in, girl, she tried to tell herself. 

“How’s the six figure amount of debt going?” 

She jumped out the sound of his voice, turning in her chair to face him. Standing in the door frame, leaned against the wooden, cherry kissed wall of the library with his arms crossed. Of course, he looked incredible. She could tell he just got back from the gym, his sleeveless black shirt over his toned frame and a pair of gray sweatpants she wouldn’t let him walk out of the house in if they were a couple. His face gleamed as if he was sweating, his hair pushed back in a mess. She didn’t do a double take because she knew she’d lose some form of her composure. 

The other reason she couldn’t focus. 

“Great, considering I'm not paying for it.” She scooted closer to her computer, as if it could pull her away from his magnetizing grip on her. She could feel his eyes behind her in the grazing of an awkward, heavy silence. 

“So, what are you working on?” 

One could say the two had gotten closer within the past couple of months. Before, he practically ignored her. As they got closer, their main interactions were chastising her over being late to school. Scolding her, as if Bruce didn’t do it enough. It was never condescending- when she slept in for classes, Jason would be pounding on her door or dragging her out of bed. 

The pressure caused by him came to a halt, though, after a drunken night of intimacy. Now she was definitely waking up late for school. She’d gotten sort of used to him forcing her out of bed.  It was an accident, she thinks to herself over and over every time her body recalled his touch. That’s what was really bothering her. The two would meet eyes around others and he wouldn’t tease her the way he usually did- something lingered behind his gaze and it bothered her- the way their eyes would meet when everyone got together. The way she’d catch him looking over at her from across the room- even before that night, but more often now. Neither of them spoke about it, she didn’t think they really had the guts to. Besides him initiating a few conversations, they haven’t talked at all. It happened rather quickly between them. He had her in the bathroom on the sink, tearing off her dress and squeezing her exposed breasts, his thick and strong legs pressed between her thighs so intimately. Bites all over her neck- bites that certainly bruised her collarbone and shoulders, uncaring for her sleeveless dress as long as it came off. A party on the outside, people babbling in conversation and music blaring louder than Bruce would have liked. Dick had poured heavy drinks that night. In those moments, nothing else mattered. It was between Jason and her, the clothes he was tearing off of her and all the frustrations he’d ignored. His free hand around the back of her neck, forcing her into a sloppy, messy, kiss- her lathered moans of excitement and the friction of his jeans to her thin panties. Quieting her with his lips, drenching her entire face with kisses. rubbing her swollen clit, unzipping his jeans- slipping her panties to the side, pushing himself in. Her gasping, parted lips and wide eyes- “Shush, baby- fuck- They’re gonna hear us-“

“A case study,” she replied, snapping out of her memories into reality. She could feel his presence behind her chair, feeling a hand come onto its back rest, gently making contact with her incidentally. She cleared her throat. “It’s a research project and a case study. It’s very long. I decided to ignore it for.. a while.” 

He hummed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. We’re used to this kind of stuff anyway.” 

“It’s not that,” she replied, scooting away from his touch. “It’s uh- Just can’t focus.” 

“That’s no excuse.” She rolled her eyes at his comment. She tried not to look at him too much- His ungloved, veined hands that trailed up to his tight arms. His fingers tapped one by one on her desk. He towered over her, he was so huge- “You need help?” 

“Help? No way,” she replied. She could smell whatever cologne he was wearing and she remembered it vividly from that night. She cleared her throat awkwardly, laughing a little at his suggestion in sheer intimidation of his looming  presence. “No. I wouldn’t want to bother you with this.”

He shrugged. Finding an excuse to at least be around her since it all happened. “I ‘ont got shit else to do. Plus, might be fun. You got other homework?” 

She cried, shrinking into her arms. “Fighting with you guys and being a college student- I don’t know which is gonna kill me first.” 

He was silent for a little bit and it ate at her. She was anticipating a sly remark, a comment about needing to get her life together, pull yourself up by the bootstraps, not an invasive silence- 

“You should be proud. It’s not easy.” 

His comment almost left her crippled. 

“Huh?” She looked back at him, giving him a look. He immediately froze up, frowning at her, flustered by her reaction. “Dammit- I try to be nice for once- I’m saying you’re doing a good job. I certainly couldn’t give a fuck enough to do what you do.” She smiled a bit and turned back to her screen. 

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He smacked his lips and leaned in closer to read the text on her screen, shaking his head. “Don’t be weird. I won’t do it again.” 

Except, that wasn’t the nicest thing he’d said to her. Maybe while sober, but that night in the bathroom through the suffocated echoes of laughter and music, he practically fawned over her. Spilling words of affection, calling her a goddess, treating every part of her body with an intense passion she didn’t expect he held for her. She’d never expected him to be like this, thrusting himself into her and gripping her ass tightly, mouth pressed against one another and still looking for oxygen through painted moans. Kissing every area of exposed skin he could breathe near, worshiping her body like it was a drying resource. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, pulling back while fucking her into the sink to get a look at her taking him. His thumb brushed her clit with enough force to form a knot in her stomach.  “J-jason-” He cut her off moans with more kisses, never stopping his rhythm.  “Better be quiet, baby,” he said through her lips. “You want this whole house to know what I’m doing to you?” Her moans were muffled by her whining, biting her lips closed as he looked into her eyes. “You want everyone to know how good I’m fucking you?” She nodded her head yes, barely able to manage the words out of her desperate mouth and he chuckled. “Oh yeah?” His voice made the knot in her stomach tighten like a balled fist. He could see it in her face and feel it inside of her, each word he spoke and every thrust she was being knocked over the edge. “Keep up them pretty moans then, baby, everyone’s gonna know who’s making you feel this good-” Her moans peaked and through his drunken state he wondered if anyone really heard them in here. He couldn’t care less, being knuckle deep into the girl he’d had dreams about for months and constantly stealing looks when he thought she didn’t notice. “You gonna cum for me, baby? That’s it, keep going, I won’t stop until you do.”

She wondered how he could act so cordial now. 

She didn’t forget any moment of that night. How they took shots together from a nearly failed mission, how they argued over comics, how they fought or threw their jackets at each other. How during their fake fight, he picked her up by her legs, slamming her into the couch. How easily he moved her around, how huge he was in comparison. How his arms felt on her body. How she swore she could totally beat his ass and how they had to fight- she just wanted him to put his hands on her for some reason, badly. How he had opened up to her in such a way she hadn’t seen before. How she noticed that night how incredibly handsome his smile was, or how his eyes gleamed in an almost squint when he laughed. How Dick had teased him for fighting with her. How when the party got louder and they kept talking and stumbling into each other, giggling and pushing each other into walls. Or how she’d pulled him into the bathroom and almost immediately were kissing, pressing into each other’s bodies like they’d been together for years. How the next day they couldn’t even look at each other. 

“Why don’t you start by organizing your sources? I can help with the interviews,” he said, snapping her out of her day dream. “You’re really gonna help me?” “Don’t think you could do it without me,” he smiled, something she didn’t catch him doing often. 

After a solid thirty minutes of reading, she realized she was going in circles. Each part of the overlapping case study was drowned out by the wretched banter of her memories. It felt impossible to not steal glances at him. Ever so often she would feel eyes on her and she would let him stare- moments at a time felt like minutes, they traded glances awkwardly.  She watched him as he intensely scrolled on the spare laptop, taking physical notes in one of her journals. His fist propping up his head as he wrote, eyebrows knitted in concentration. Recently, she started to notice how handsome he was. How the intensity of his personality took over his dark features in contrast to that pretty smile he gave when he was drinking the other night. He looked up at her, catching her stare red handed and she smiled. “How’s it coming?” She asked. She felt flustered and nervous, unable to diminish the little smiles that came to her face as she took glances at him. He closed the notebook and stretched his hands into the air, lifting his black shirt to reveal some of his stomach. “I should be asking you that,” he said in a yawn. “What’s the matter? Still can’t focus?” He asked. She shook her head no. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she muttered with an awkward laugh, turning back to her computer. She knew exactly what was wrong with her- and so did he. 

“Lemme’ see,” He said, sliding past her to her computer. Now they were dangerously close- his arm going underneath hers to reach her keyboard, their hands brushing against one another so he could move the mouse. They stayed like this for a few minutes, slowly getting closer to one another, his broad shoulders near her face. Gently, she placed her temple against his shoulder, scooting closer to him. She noticed him stop typing, the silence in the room drowned out by her laptop’s fans thudding every now and then. Snapping his concentration once more and putting him more on edge than he thought she could, “Do you wanna sit?” She asked. “We can sit together,” she was being bold.

 For ignoring his existence for almost two weeks, she had an awful lot of forced confidence. That whiplash scarred him, made his stomach turn, assuming he heard her incorrectly. He thought maybe he came off too strong that night, in the bathroom- perhaps it was the way he talked to her while he fucked her. Maybe it threw her off, perhaps he said too much. He was a passionate man and she had gotten a hold of him at the height of his yearning. She wanted to be close to him again- even if not in the same way, to be engulfed by his arms might be enough to help her focus. He agreed with great hesitation, feeling flustered and unlike himself. It wasn’t often when he felt put on edge, and everything about her was making something in him tick. Her soft touches, whatever perfume or shampoo she used, her quiet hums while she tried to work. He almost resented her for making him feel so self conscious. 

Watching her sit down into his lap, biting down on his tongue. For two weeks, ever since that night, he’d been trying to suppress the feelings that got worse with time. Confusion, anxiety, yearning for her all over again. He had a whiplash that he couldn’t lick to heal like other wounds. Approaching her was incredibly difficult, especially since she’d disappear whenever he came around. Months of dreaming about her in those positions were taken to reality and he savored every moment of licking up her body and taking her over and over again- but when he had felt that coldness from her, he wished he hadn’t even been there that night. He would have rather suffered in silence longer than for her to not talk to him. The night of the party was an accident, sure, but not a bad one- just not one he would’ve expected. Not one he knew how to confront properly. How could he be around her and act like nothing happened that night, when he had to cover her mouth to not let veracious moans leak out of the bathroom? Neither of them expected it to get to that point. He didn’t know where it came from. He had a certain amount of self control, self control that was tested- self control that failed with every racking thrust he slammed into her. He thought about it almost every minute of every day, slamming inside of her and grabbing her hair, the way she moaned and sighed in appreciation- the way his name rolled off her tongue like an orgasm building up in his body-

He had to stop thinking about it. He could feel an erection press his sweats and he huffed, moving her away from his crotch with ease. What was he doing here anyway? He wanted to talk to her- he’s wanted to since it happened- but it was too much to confront. Everytime he even got near her he could sense her discomfort. Dick asked him about her several times after that night. “Everybody knew you guys were flirting. You were body slamming her into the couch and twirling her around, and then you guys disappeared for an hour-” He was nervous, maybe even scared of her emotions, not knowing if she resented him for that night. But the way she was leaning back for comfortability against his chest, and the way she held onto his free arm so innocently, he sincerely doubted it now. With an arm wrapped around her waist, she moved back to the center of his lap. 

Maybe they would just never bring it up, he thought. Maybe they’ll just keep moving forward and with disdain or limerence for one another. He didn’t wanna do this every couple of weeks without talking to her in between, or having to pretend a part of him wasn’t deeply infatuated by her. He felt her shift and he could’ve let out a whimper- he had a feeling she knew what he was doing and it was torturing him. A hand fell to her thigh. He traced it a bit, as if it were casual- he was beginning to get light headed. She wore a skirt and thigh highs, so he played with the elasticity of her socks, snapping them onto her skin gently. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, his heart pounding like it was his first time. From over her shoulder, He looked at her thighs. He remembered that night, spreading them apart and pounding her. He buried his face into her neck, his member twitching from the memory, her smell, her ass pressing and shifting on him. He knew she could feel it and now he wanted to ask her all of those questions he had asked that same night while he had her on the sink.

 His hands slid down her thigh, squeezing them firmly, lightly parting them over his knees. She hummed. It was rather meak and it made him nervous with excitement. “Hmm?” He asked. “You’re distracting me,” she told him. Not like she didn’t enjoy it. 

“Excuses,” he mumbled into her neck. “What you need to do is focus.” He said, traveling further up her body. Bold, very bold. She could feel tightness in her stomach and her face flush with heat. “I’m trying,” she stuttered out as he explored more coverage of her thigh. His fingers traced her flesh, drawing closer and closer to her skirt. “Good,” he huffed. “Keep going.” His voice was more gentle than it usually was, slower and muffled into her shoulder. He watched as she organized her work, skipping through her case file and summarizing the prompt questions. His hands met her panties and her entire body tensed, he watched as she began to mistype on her keyboard and fumble with commands. Through the cloth of her panties, he felt damp fabric as he slid down her slit, coming back up and making full circles around her clit with his other hand squeezing her thigh. He held her thighs open with his own, fully spread out, only covered by the cloth of her skirt. She whined, hummed, mumbled his name, shifted against his stiff erection. “Why’d you stop typing?” He asked, his fingers in locomotion. She whined through closed lips, thighs twitching and tensing against his own. “Jason- It feels good-” “You’re gonna get in trouble if you don’t finish that work, girl.” He taunted her, quick but heavy moans escaping her lips. “Keep goin’,” he demanded. She did as she was told, trying to write sentences through a building orgasm. He could feel it from the way her thighs tensed and how her back arched that she was close. He wanted to give it to her so badly it made him ache, make her cum over and over again- he didn’t know if it was right, if they could be friends after this. He didn’t know if he could watch her act like he didn’t do these things to her after it was over. Was this worth whatever relationship they had left? Even as he contemplated it, his hands couldn’t stop roaming. He couldn’t fake it- he couldn’t act like he didn’t want her and he wouldn’t, either. He watched as she struggled to type and flip through files on her computer. “Good job, baby. You’re being sucha’ good girl.” He kissed her ears as she let out a soft moan, slipping his free hand up her loose fitted shirt, going under her bra. “Jason- I’m-” “Keep saying it, say my name again,” the friction of their clothes were making him raw with desperation, bucking his hips up as she melted onto him. He felt her tense up, longer than before, letting out a sigh of his name, gripping the sides of the chair and the mouse. He continued to touch the fabric covering her swollen clit, letting her ride out her orgasm as he kissed her face. The way she moaned and moved around in his lap could make anyone fall in love, he thought. That was dangerous. She was pressed completely into his back, humming his name, touching his face with her soft hands. He brought his fingers back to that sweet spot, making her finish even faster the second time. He could feel the dampness on her thighs, sweating onto his pants and he hadn’t even fingered her. 

He stood up, holding her by her waist as he did so, bending her back over the keyboard. “Keep working, baby. Don’t mind me, okay?” He kissed the sides of her face while he was pressed against her back. She heard his sweatpants shift as she worked his boxers. She tried to look back but he grabbed her face, pushing it down into the screen. “Work,” he ordered, more intensely this time. With her bent over her keyboard, her lifted skirt exposed her thin panties, working them halfway down her thighs. He removed his member from his boxers, precum staining his clothes and dripping from the tip. “What are you working on now, baby?” He asked. His voice made knots in her stomach as she tried to flip through pages and explain what she was doing. Her mouth parted to speak but was interrupted as his erection poked through her thighs, rubbing against her leaking mess. He had a strong grip on her ass, moving her hips back and forth on his cock, watching the gleam from her soaked cunt make noises. He moved slowly and with ease, her thighs were soaked from his teasing. “T- I’m- I’m working- Trying to-” He gave her ass a firm slap. “Speak up,” he groaned. His cock ached with every sliding motion, he could probably cum himself but he held back, satiating every movement. “The introduction- to my- my um..,” she panted. He laughed as she scrambled through her moans. “Please, Jason?” He hummed in appreciation. He kept working his dick back and forth against her slit, pushing himself faster each time from pure bliss. Now he was a moaning mess, low groans he tried to silence as he fucked her thighs. “Keep working,” he huffed. “You still have so much to do. You’ve been waking up late every day for classes, and you expect me to let you get away with that?” He watched as she cried, trying to type and retain information. Her brain, too distracted by his aching cock pleasing himself between her. She wanted to protest, to blame him for not waking her up like she’d gotten used to. So spoiled of her. Firmly she squeezed her thighs, earning a moan from his parted lips, stroking her hair with his free hand and tightly gripping it. With a quick gasp, he pulled her face back, kissing her gently. “I missed you,” he mumbled into her mouth. She almost didn’t hear him but she spoke through his moaning kisses when it registered. “I missed you so much, Jason,” he was now squeezing her breasts and rocking against her hips, steady moans he didn’t care to suppress anymore. “I thought about you everyday,” he admitted. “I thought about you in every single way.” He moaned, bending to kiss the back of her shoulders, trailing down her neck to the sensitivity of her spine. His words earned a yearning cry from her, and the part that wasn’t enjoying every engulfing moan of hers felt a slight dread about their future. As he kissed her shoulders, he wondered if she would come back to him after this. If they would be able to be normal like how it was before. Her back arched from the sweetness of his lips as he ran his hands underneath her clothes. Great, he thought. Go ahead and say a bunch of sweet shit to the girl you won’t talk to for the next month.

Pulling out his soaked member from her thighs, with ease, he pushed himself into her. Honest, drawn moans escaped their lips, saliva trailing from their lips as they departed. He grabbed her hips, forcing her down into the keyboard once more, taking in every part of her soaked cunt and moaning her name. She shifted, struggled against his hips, his length believably long for a man of his stature- something she was not used to. “C’mon, baby. Take it for me, like before,” He cooed, keeping his hand firm on her back as he fucked her, louder, sloppier moans of pain and pleasure from him poking parts of her that had only been reached by him. He was so different when they had sex, she had realized. So sweet and affectionate, intensely passionate and loving. Meekly she reached her hand to his hip, stopping his motion momentarily- he chuckled, grabbing ahold of the hand and holding it to her back. “What’s wrong? Can’t take it?” He asked through thrusts that made her unable to form words.  “Jason- feels so good, it’s so much,” she stuttered out, rocking her hips slowly. He grabbed her other arm, holding her back like a pair of handcuffs as his breathing hitched.

 “Oh yeah?” He asked. “You want me to keep going?” He said, slowing his thrusts. Her hips rocked promptly against his throbbing member, “please, please don’t stop,” she mumbled, her face now down into the coldness of the Wayne manor’s library desk. “No problem, sweetheart,” he spoke with confidence, picking up his speed, giving her no time to adjust. Fucking her almost senselessly, her moans now cries as his mercy ran thin. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t slow down, mindlessly knocking over her book bag and other school supplies as he broke into her. His pace was rapid and without any consideration of how she was going to sit down for the next few days. Slamming a hand down onto the table for added pressure while still restraining her, “-Tell me how much you enjoy this,” he panted, watching her struggle against him as her ass bounced against him every time he plunged into her. Her words were melted ice cream, scrambled word vomit, he fucked her so hard she could barely manage to spit anything but the word Jason out, which she mumbled with each thrust- and it drove him over the edge. “Tell me how much you missed this feeling, tell me how much you missed me,” he spat, grabbing her hair and forcing her face up. He looked at her with sincere need- not just a sexual one. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you Jason,” she confessed through stutters. It made him smile, a sweet, almost drunken smile as he laughed through huffs of pleasure. “So good for me,” he said through kisses. Her stomach fluttered from a softness she’d only seen once before in him. 

He picked up her leg, throwing it on the table to make sure he fucked her thoroughly enough to get his point across. With her arms now free, she grabbed onto the table for dear life, biting her tongue from letting out a scream she knew someone would hear from above the floorboards. They didn’t need Alfred coming in to check on if someone was getting murdered down here. Holding one leg up as he pounded into her, his breathing racking from every thrust that brought him closer to satisfaction, he grabbed a fistfull of her hair. “You’re gonna talk to me tomorrow, right?” The question threw her off guard, her moaning dimming as she tried to piece the words together. The grip on her hair tightened and she winced. “You’re not gonna ignore me after I fucked you this good?” He asked, getting closer to her ear, making sure he heard her right. “Because,” he panted as his hips bucked further into her, the grip on her elevated leg almost bruising. “I’m gonna fuck you like this every chance that I get.” The words edged her, he felt her body tensing, aching for release as he picked up his pace. “You don’t have a choice- me ‘nd you- we’re gonna do this a lot more.” He felt her cumming, squeezing around him, her back arching as he muttered filth into her ear, indescribable moans and thank you’s. “Don’t thank me yet,” he told her. “You’re not getting rid of me, girl. Try to ignore me again. You won’t forget how much I made you cum. You won’t forget how good I fucked you.” Her face felt hot and so did her entire body, more of a promise than a threat and she was fine with that. “I won’t forget,” she repeated as he kissed the lobe of her ear.  His chest now pressed against her back with a hand around her throat, “You’re mine. You’re all mine. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that- everyday,” She felt herself cumming again as he beat into every corner of her walls, nodding profusely. “I’m all yours, Jay,” she whimpered. “Thank you- thank you-” She forced, her entire body squirming under pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Where do you want me to cum?” He asked. “Inside of me, please,” desperate and filled with need. “You want me to fill you up, princess?” She nodded, begging. “Look at me,” he demanded, forcing her face to his, eyes interlocking. “-Need to see that pretty face when I cum-” It was less of a demand and more of his own whimpering pleading. His hips bucked one last time into her, her mouth open for a kiss as she watched him finish, a range of emotion hitting his face as he tightened the grip on her leg, stroking her face with his free palm. It was incredibly hot, she thought, watching his face while he came.

 He pulled out with a sharp gasp. He bent over, kissing her exposed ass before pulling up her panties and fixing her skirt, fixing his own clothes afterwards. He grabbed a hold of her, sitting back down into the chair, stroking her hair and giving her small pecks on her face. With a sigh of content, he kissed her temple. “Alright, baby. Can you focus now for me?”

Meanwhile, upstairs. 

“Alfred,” Dick interrupted as Alfred tried for the door. “Why don’t you ever hangout with me anymore?” Alfred raised his eyebrow at the young man he practically raised in front of him. “Master Dick, whatever do you mean? Is our spare time spent with one another inefficient?” “Yes, right now it is,” Dick said with crossed arms. “We could be hanging out, right now.” “Sounds lovely. I just need to check the library-” “So, you don’t like me anymore?” Dick huffed, covering his face. “Can’t we go make cookies? Please?” Alfred sighed. “Master Dick, is there something wrong?’ “Yes, Alfred, there actually is.” Alfred raised his brow once again. “But if you bake with me right now, there won’t be. And I will be much happier.” “Is there something going on downstairs you don’t want me to know about?” Alfred asked with a concerned look. Maybe he didn’t want to know. “I think we should make sugar cookies this time,” Dick said with a grin, placing his hand on Alfred’s shoulder and leading him away from a now closed door.

[aliusfrater]

tell us about sammary first time? 👀 - @wastemanjohn

YES. YEAH. OKAY. so i've talked about this in a more vague and meta-ish capacity before wrt exactly what about them i want to explore with their relationship as a ship, persay and i've always imagined it to be a sexual relationship they're really chill but ultimately secretive about in the beginning, mostly on behalf of the fact 1) that it'll present as really taboo from the outside because all people would see is mother and son despite the actual circumstances of their relationship, and 2) the relationship would fundamentally rely on the exclusion of their mutual patriarch, dean (essentially to the other familial relationships their (non)relationship exists at the centre of btw, like a venn diagram.

anyway i think their first time would happen during research to a case within which sam goes to his bedroom to check some files he has in the drawers in his desk, and he gets caught up in actually finding something that might help in some files and ends up sitting in his room, door open, and papers everywhere while taking notes in a book he specifically keeps in his room 'cause he left his phone and laptop at the table in the library he and mary were working at. mary comes out of her focus, having not found much, and realises he's left, but figured he's in his room and wants to go crack a joke to tell him she's kind of giving up for the day. on her way there, she grabs a beer to wind down, but pauses and grabs another—this one being for sam. she knocks on his open door, and he jumps a bit but gasps (positive connotation) when he notices it's her. they make small talk as mary hands him the beer and he takes a sip, when she notices all the papers around his room. she wipes a hand on her jeans to rid it of beer condensation and riffles through the papers on his bed, realising that these stuff includes information they were looking for. sam's watching and they get to talking about the contents of sam's research as she sets her beer down on sam's bedside table to get really into detailing each aspect of what they need. sam gets up to place a coaster underneath her beer on the bare wood and sits beside her on the bed, organising the papers into a pile on its own section as they veer into more personal conversation—like what about research sam finds interesting, how mary feels about research, some tactics sam used for research during school, what mary would've studied in school because she planned to get her bachelor's after sam has grown up a bit. sam makes a joke about something, and mary goes to tuck his hair behind his ear, and her hand lingers. sam glances at her lips because he's had this happen with other women before, but this isn't another woman, this is mary. just as mary realises she's never known him till now, sam realises he's never known her till now and they lean in at the same time for a very tender kiss that starts with a brush of their lips, before it intensifies quickly. sam mumbles something about the open door just as mary's crawling over to straddle his lap and sam picks her up as he crosses the room in one stride to push the door closed with his foot. he sets her down, right against the back of the door as mary starts groping his chest and sam crooks a knee between her thighs, squeezing her waist. he kisses down her neck, whispering, "please—let me," over and over and mary nods, biting her lip to stay quiet as she pushes her hair out of her face. sam kisses her over her shirt down her body as he undoes her belt and jeans, and there's quite a bit of giggling and struggle as they try to push her pants down at the same time but in two different ways. once they're around her shins, sam is kneeled there, kissing her bush as she gets a hand in his hair. she really doesn't want to look down, and sam really doesn't want to look away from her face. basically, he eats her out to completion, then fingers her to a second orgasm. she pants, face facing the ceiling while sam licks at her thighs and kisses the stretch marks on her stomach until mary is bending over to pull her pants up. sam goes to kiss her again but mary stays just out of lip's reach, mumbling, "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry," and sam shakes his head, holding her face in his hands. she works her hands around his waist for a second, before pulling back and opening the door behind her, then leaving. mary cries when she's back in her room; a cry that's like a silent stare with tears going down her face. sam turns back to his bed, runs a hand over the bottom half of his face a few times, then blinking in surprise when he realises it's still wet, before downing the rest of his and mary's lukewarm beers, them distracting himself with the research he was doing with the taste of her cunt still in his mouth and mixing with the taste of beer.

there are unanswered texts about how research is going with mary from dean on his phone in the library.

[eternal444angel]

Some information about me (updated)

I am Argentine🥰

I live for and by cinema, forever

I like poetry, I used to practice it and I was very good, I lost the habit

I love reading. My literature teacher says it's the best way to speak well, and I totally agree.

I love art itself, before I used to paint a lot, not well but I expressed myself, which is the important thing about art.

I have also practiced dance, singing, all based on the artistic world 🫀

I continue practicing witchcraft, and I think my spirituality has grown a lot, and for the better💐

I've already passed the dark night of the soul (or so I think!) ☠️

Many people in my family are witches, tarot readers, or work in the spiritual field. It's genes😘

Argentine cinema is one of the most passionate things, because Argentine is passion

My favorite colors right now are burgundy, sea tones green, yellow and pink

I have the sun in Virgo, the moon in Aquarius, and the ascendant in Aquarius 🌙 (something that also identifies me a lot is my Venus in Leo)

I like to look at people, pay attention and realize that each one has a different story, different passions, different everything.

When I finish high school I will study to have a degree in acting and then a Bachelor's degree in cinematography and degree in visual arts 🎬

I will publish many books when I grow up, I want to dedicate myself to writing too ❤️

I would like to have a library when I grow up, and every Saturday have special meetings showing books that have left their mark on me (and that people can share theirs too)

I radically changed my account because I see it as more personal, explosive and full of color. I am also aesthetic and pure, full of esotericism, but I think that lately I am represented by nature and change.

If you're interested in following me on Letterbox, send me a private message and I'll send you my account! (I'm not posting it here because it has my name and is private.)

That's all, if you made it this far, thank you so much ✨

[shoujo-wizard]

@lexirosewrites here's the ask i told you i've been putting too much detail into, i call it Haunting of Harrington House it's more details on the ask i sent quite awhile ago of a/b/o steddie haunted house AU this is very long so it is under the cut

it involves slightly better harrington parents, but they still aren't the best the emotional neglect is very present, it isn't very steddie or buckingham coded yet so i didn't tag it as either these r just broad initial details

O!Steve A!Robin

Steve grew up in a relatively cosmopolitan town in Washington near Seattle. His father and mother were big shot lawyers with little time for him. He was mostly a check on the to-do list for a "picture perfect" marriage, his designation as a male omega wasn't unexpected or shunned as the Harrington family apparently had a long history of male omegas. But they were still much too busy so every school break they'd dump him at his maternal grandparents house a few towns away. When there wasn't a school break he was primarily in the care of a nanny till his 15th birthday when it was deemed he knew how to take care of himself & be safe abt it.

He grew up learning next to nothing about his paternal grandparents aside from what was essential to a family tree project here & there. Steve knew his middle name, Oliver, came from his great-grandfather & tht said great-grandfather was a male omega as well. Richard Harrington never divulged more than the necessary information that Steve needed for school: his grandfather's name was Elijah Harrington, his grandmother's name was Amelia Smith before she married Elijah, his ancestors were some of the first settlers of the area that would grow into Hawkins, that his grandparents lived there their entire lives

Well time passed as it's wont to do, Steve graduated high school & decided to study Library Sciences as a long-term goal. Despite their estranged relationship his parents were supportive of this choice, but his father drew the line at looking at schools in Indiana. Richard told Steve he'd left Indiana & specifically Hawkins for a reason. He never told his son what tht reason was.

Steve thrived in college, getting a Bachelor in Information Science eventually getting into a Masters program that would earn him a Masters in Library Science thus allowing him to begin working as a librarian. In his Masters program he met A!Robin & they instantly bonded after a disaster of a Socratic seminar where they ended up on the same side of a heated debate abt the legacy of the Library of Congress. When Steve graduates his parents r nowhere to be found even tho they'd promised & even shared w him their travel plans tht would get them there on time. So he goes thru the motions of celebration till he gets a call from an unknown number. It's the police, his parents had been involved in a serious car accident after swerving to avoid a drunk driver. They'd both been pronounced dead at the scene. His parents were dead.

The next two weeks r filled with meetings with his parents lawyer, finding appropriate coffins, alerting business partners & friends alike to the deaths, & then getting acquainted with their will. The will stated that if Steve was 20+ upon their death their house would go up for sale. They'd left certain things to business partners, certain things to friends, and the rest was Steve's to do w as he pleased. he sells much of it, keeps some of it. Among what was left to Steve is the deed & blueprints & keys to a house in Hawkins Indiana. 

Well, he'd always been curious & there was no more childhood home waiting for him so he gets Robin to agree to come with him to the town he'd never been to before. They get in his car & go on a road trip. They arrive in Hawkins days later & stop at a diner they happen to find on Google maps before making the final trek to the mystery Harrington house.

They come upon a historic mansion from the Gilded Age. It's unmistakably in need of work. The windows r dark & the key gets stuck before working. The electricity buzzes & blinks before coming on reliably. There's furniture covered in white sheets in nearly every room. The kitchen hadn't been updated since the 1950s. The drawing room has covered paintings, covered furniture, a large fireplace clearly meant to impress, & nearly empty bookcases built into one wall. There is no television but an antique radio as well as a 70s record player in the sitting room. There's a second fireplace in the sitting room tht is just as gorgeous but clearly meant for the personal use of the family. There's an entire personal library past the sitting room & the platonic pair r apprehensive of the state of the books on the shelves. The library is two stories with a spiral staircase leading up. Another staircase directly opposite the foyer leads up to the second floor of the mansion. The blueprints show a total of five bedrooms & three bathrooms on the second floor with the third bathroom being an ensuite to the master bedroom. There's a staircase w a door at the top leading to the attic/servants quarters. They test the faucets in the kitchen & after some noise & undeniably stale water it works. The fridge clearly needs to b replaced & the oven & stove top r dubious at best. They find the master bedroom has a gorgeous antique nesting frame tht Robin thinks might date to the 1910s. Neither wants to chance the old mattress so they roll out their sleeping bags next to eachother & settle as comfortably as they can on the hardwood floor. 

That night Steve dreams. 

He stands in the garden behind the mansion. The lights r all on, & he can see shadows moving within as if a party is taking place. He's in the pajamas he wore to sleep & his feet r getting cold. But every effort he makes to get to the house makes him sink into the dirt. Just as his head is abt to b submerged beneath the soil he wakes up.

They eventually end up committing to using Steve’s inheritance to restoring/renovating the mansion. The dreams do not stop. In fact when he begins sleeping in the master bedroom alone the dreams get worse. More vivid and more confusing.

It all hits the fan not long after Steve has his first heat in the mansion. He comes out of his heat a little worse for wear bc he kept dreaming in between waves of horniness & moments of care from Robin. The dreams were not the pleasant wet dreams he’d always had during his heats. He could not remember any of them, but he always awoke with a rabbiting heartbeat searching the room for eyes he knew wouldn’t be there.

So he’s a little anxious but has to get over it quickly because they had carpenters coming in to reinforce various areas tht needed the help tht week, the electricity and wiring was already renovated and up to code. Context: they’d been working with local companies through this entire process, and the workers always smelled a little nervous whenever they were around. Neither of them asked because they got the feeling they wouldn’t get a straight answer. So these workers come in to do their job. The last area they needed to work on is the attic/servants quarters. These are big people, strong people, most of them alphas, but they all stood at the bottom of the stairs to the attic psyching each other up to go up there. Eventually they go up, begin working, all is quiet for half an hour, then suddenly every single one of the workers in the attic are charging down the stairs and stampeding out of the mansion.

i haven't exactly finished this thought but im now cooking up an entire fic

[yandere-daydreams]

What major are you in university?

creative writing :3 i plan to pursue a master's in library and information sciences after getting my bachelor's as a more career-oriented thing, but for now, your porn is being written by an educated (and recently published) author.

[darlingofdots]

Just to be clear, no you don't need a formal education in creative writing, yes a formal education in creative writing will probably make you a better writer. I have a bachelor's degree in creative writing and then went into a straightforward literary and cultural studies MA program, and am now working on a very literary studies PhD with no creative elements, and do you know what the first point of feedback is that I get on my academic writing? Wow, you write so well. This is so fun to read. My writing from before and after undergrad is vastly, vastly different. And it's not because my teachers told me how to write but because for three years, all I did was write and think about writing and talk about writing with my peers and read their writing and exchange feedback about our writing and justifying the choices I made in my writing and...!

You learn a tremendous amount about writing (what works, what doesn't work, what your style is, how to achieve certain effects, how to communicate effectively) from and with other people, and a formal course of some sort will facilitate that exchange in a much more guided and productive manner than you are likely to get if you're just chugging along by yourself. That doesn't mean that you should or need to pay a bunch of money and invest years of your life into a degree programme, it just means that if you really want to improve your craft, you need to figure out how to access this kind of productive environment yourself. It could be an informal writing group at the library, it can be your fandom friends, whatever, but you do need to be deliberate and strategic about it. Creative writing also requires creative and critical reading: start a book club with your friends and specifically talk about how the book is constructed, what you can take from it for your own work. Read some literary theory. Read literary criticism. Write a poem and then explain how and why you wrote it. Practice how to give and receive feedback that helps the writer achieve their goals. Put the work in.

That's what my creative writing degree did for me: it taught me the components of the craft, and then it made me put the work in.

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ CLUELESS

oliver aiku x fem!reader — oneshot.

— based on this idea that i posted.

you're clueless, and everything that oliver aiku says and does to you is met with confusion.

Life was a pendulum violently swinging back and forth between suffering, exhaustion, and absolute nothingness in between—at least, yours is.

You had a knack for working. It’s the jam to your delicious peanut butter sandwich that sometimes you just can’t swallow anymore. But it’s there, and it is a constant. You put piles of it onto your plate daily and you don’t hit the sack until every last crumb is gone and devoured. You hate the act of stepping into the halls of your university, but you’d hate to be absent even more. You hated the monotonous, mind-numbing voice that your professors used to articulate words, but you liked learning concepts people made in an attempt to concretize and visualize the abstract.

But you could not say the same for your interpersonal relationships. It was not the same as working wherein the pros battled equally against the cons, because all you could see was the downsides that could possibly come. Living life alongside other people had always felt like walking with eggshells for shoes, carefully tiptoeing away from anyone else’s toes in hopes of not letting it crack and accidentally pierce skin. You had never been good with them—handling people—even if you were one yourself. Oh, the irony. Thus, you had resorted to understanding yourself and them. A bachelors in Psychology seemed like the right way to go.

And so, work swung you to exhaustion; people swung you to suffering; and you are left with absolutely nothing as the pendulum stops.

But, Oliver Aiku was an enigma; one whom you cannot begin to understand where he stands. He is not “work” that swung you to exhaustion, and he is not “people” that swung you to suffering—at least, not in the same way other people typically did. It was different. His treatment was much different and your interactions with his treatment felt more organic, you could say, despite the utter nonsensical things exchanged in between. At least you didn’t have to walk on eggshells around him; he doesn’t seem fragile enough to break.

He’s just weird. He keeps going on saying stuff and doing things you don’t understand.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, Angel?” You hear Oliver say from right beside you. You were quietly going on about your busy day, reading through case studies in the library, when he decided to appear with the signature strange quirk of his lips and the glint in his heterochromatic eyes. You can’t describe it but you don’t mind it.

You furrow your brows at his words, momentarily pulling your gaze away from the papers you were reading.

“I’m not religious.” You inform him matter-of-factly. Angels don’t fall out of heaven. Heaven wasn’t even a physical place, rather, you assumed it was a state with the way the Bible explained it. Besides, the only thing hovering over—or well, technically, around the Earth were the Stratosphere and the Exosphere, and whatever. Where does Heaven stay over there?

“Wha—”

You cut him off with a shake of your head, leaning a bit closer to him as you explain the useless little tidbit stored inside your brain, blinking owlishly. “Nevertheless, have you seen biblically-accurate angels? No offense to them, but they are actually horrifying.”

His previously incredulous expression transforms back into his typical grin. This looks smaller, almost softer, even. “Think you missed the point there, sweetheart.”

“Make your jokes make sense, then.” You say, yawning a little as you turn your attention back to your papers. You pick up a black pen and begin scribbling out important terms and points.

“Wait— what? I was not making a joke.”

“Oh.” You respond distractedly.

A few seconds don’t even pass and he’s already bugging you again. He’s like a singular visible shaking leaf outside of a transparent window, amidst a quiet and unmoving area. He’s distracting.

He’s like a—

“Kid.” You say out loud, nodding your head as you turn to look at him as if you’ve had a sudden epiphany. “You’re like a kid.”

The look he sends you—well—it’s only one that you can describe as offended. But one second he has an offended frown on his face, the next it looks blank, before it turns into one of those expressions that you don’t quite understand too. It’s the face he makes when he’s about to say or do something that’s also equally confusing.

You jolt, furrowing your brows over curiously when he takes your free hand resting on top of your lap slowly. His fingers trace the back of your palm and you shiver slightly. You ignore the way his brows raise and observe the way his fingers slowly entangle itself between yours, holding your hand and squeezing it gently. His thumb traces circles around your palm making the hairs on your skin rise.

You attempt to pull your hand back but he clasps onto it a little tighter, preventing you from pulling away.

“W-What are you doing?” You’re not sure why such a strange action tickled the expanse of your tummy.

“Hm? I’m holding your hand.” His lips quirk up, resting his cheek against his other arms propped up on the table, staring into your eyes. His purple and green eyes almost envelope you, but you move your gaze up to the center of his forehead instead.

When was hand-holding this intense? You bite the side of your cheek before chewing on your bottom lip nervously.

All of a sudden, his hold loosens as if unsure. “I’m not uh, making you uncomfortable, right? Because if I am, then,”

You feel him reluctantly begin to let go of your hand, but you quickly enclose your fingers around his, preventing him from letting go. You ignore the way he mumbles an ‘oh?’ as you explain. “I’m not uncomfortable. It’s just unexplainable and strange to me. I’ve never had a guy hold my hand before but based on my studies, you typically do this with the person you hold romantic feelings for, am I right?”

His fingers enclose around yours again, and contrary to your belief, his grin doesn’t even falter as you call him out on his possible feelings.

“Mhm, you are correct, sweetheart.” He chuckles leaning slightly closer and you can smell his perfume wafting off of his skin and clothes. You gulp, turning your eyes away momentarily and leaning back. The hand in yours feels heavy but you don’t attempt to pull away even as your palms begin to sweat. It’s strange. You like holding his hand.

“A-Ah, I see.” You nod your head slowly. “Do you like me, Oliver?”

He lets out another chuckle, one coming from deep within his diaphragm. “And me calling you ‘sweetheart’ wasn’t already a dead giveaway?”

You paused for a second. “Debatable. You call other girls ‘pretty’ and ‘darling’ and ‘babe’ and—”

He cuts you off, the tips of his ears turning red. “Okay, okay, I get it. But I’ve stopped, okay? For you. Didn’t know that it’d make you this jealous though.”

The look you send him comes out flat. “I’m not jealous. I was merely stating that it’s hard to identify your feelings based on just that because you apply the same behavior towards other women. I meant it as a matter-of-fact.”

“Hate that you’re always reasonable.” He mutters under his breath before laughing quietly. “But I’ve stopped, okay? Promise.”

“Promise?” You tilt your head. “Who said I reciprocated your feelings though?”

“Oh?” He smirks. “You don’t?”

He leans closer, breath brushing lightly against your face warmly. He unclasps your fingers and he quietly chuckles at the way your hand chases his for a second before he’s placing it on your hip. Your hands fall at your lap. Suddenly, you are conscious of the fabric of your shirt brushing against your skin.

“You sure?” He continues, leaning his face even closer. At this point you could see all of the little details that make up his face. The vividness of the two contrasting colors of his irises, the sharpness of his nose, the strands of unshaved hair above his pink lips. He looks like he applies lip balm everyday.

Just as you lean closer as well, he pulls everything back. His hand that was previously on your hip is gone and the warm breath brushing your face is replaced with the cold air of the operating AC in the library.

He lets out a ‘tsk’ shaking his head at you scoldingly. “We’re in the library, (First Name). You can’t be thinking of doing things like that here.”

The library. You snap back to reality. Yes, you’re in the library.

All you could muster out was an “Oh.”

You stare at him in confusion as he begins to stand up, his clothes and his bag making rustling noises as he moves. He glances at his watch wrapped around his left wrist as he slings his gym bag over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” You ask curiously.

“I’m going to train, sweetheart.” He winks. “I’ll message you later, ‘kay?”

You nod, turning back to your files.

“And maybe we can pick up where we left off later.”

꩜ⴰ TAGS!

@gigiiiiislife

if you'd also like to be tagged in my future works, please comment your user below : ]

[lavender-gloom]

INTRODUCTION POST

About Me

hey! i'm Lavender (or Venny for short). i am an 18+ university student in my second year here. i am autistic asf, queer, goth, and a lover of all things horror. i used to be a piloting major but had to quit because i was so fucking scared due to unforeseen circumstances, i changed my major to a bachelors of information studies and will be getting a masters in library and information studies (MLIS) eventually. my main goal is to pursue librarianship and do creative writing on the side. my current track is this:

Major: Information Studies

Minor(s): English Writing, Computational Technology

i'm trying to apply for an accelerated BAIS/MLIS track so I can get my MLIS in a year. i should be able to get in (4.0 GPA lets freaking go). i like to write horror stories in my (not abundant) free time. give me

pronouns: any (genderfluid)

sexuality: omnisexual

i also have a reblog account called lavender-gloom-reblogs where i reblog stuff that has nothing to do with horror or writing.

Writing WIP: Reflection

horror novel set in 1990s Earth

TW for gore, abuse, SH, su!c!de, horror, drugs, ect.

Stuff I Will Post About

WIP updates

writing snippets

art

music

goth stuff

ocs

memes probably

Stuff You Won’t See

NSFW