Lol it's been a while. Late Merry Christmas!
Wohoo!
Arthur had had his own suspicions about the blond man who frequented his workplace over the past week. Well everyone did have their own thoughts and guesses, but to Arthur, this Alfred as what he heard from Katyusha, was far from being a government spy or a criminal looking for his next murder victim.
He knew how trustworthy his instincts were, and it may have been amplified by his paranoia, his worry that he would still be recognized despite reverting back to his original blond hair. Arthur already removed his piercings as well even if he did not want to, especially the silver stud he loved having on his tongue. He was being extra careful, his tattoos were concealed under his clothes. So he decided that maybe, hopefully, their coffee was really just worth going back for.
Apparently, he was wrong. Painfully, stupidly, fascinatingly wrong.
"Hi." Arthur stared at the outstretched hand. "Alfred Jones. Huge fan."
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened but only for a moment before he was able to catch himself from being too obvious that those were the very words he feared on ever hearing.
"E-excuse me?" Arthur tried to look confused, tried to look clueless, tried to appear as if he had no idea what this Alfred Jones said. He even tried to deny that the man before him indeed recognized who he was, and that Alfred was merely a fan of Arthur Kirkland, a waiter he happened to have taken a fancy on ever since he stepped in the café. But there was a spark of familiarity past those glasses and in those blue eyes, and Arthur, as much as he wanted to fight his gut instincts, knew that Alfred recognized him.
Still, that did not mean Arthur would easily give the information up and walk away, let the American think what he would like to think.
"Y-you're," Alfred took a step forward, and Arthur found his feet rooted on the spot and unable to step back. He was towered over by an equally surprised customer. He had his hands ready to push the man away if the gap between them was once more attempted to be closed.
To his relief, Alfred took a step back again, wide eyes now wandering everywhere but Arthur's face. There was a sheepish, reluctant smile on his face, which Arthur only came to appreciate after seconds of dumbfounded staring.
"I'm sorry." Alfred said, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just, I thought you were… someone else."
Okay so the guy was retracting. Good. Arthur tensed muscles relaxed, however his eyes still never left Alfred's and it must have been a bad idea to continue staring because when Alfred met his eyes with a look of something akin to determination, Arthur felt his blood rushing again.
"But," Alfred took a step forward, again, and Arthur was rooted on his spot, again. 'But,' he said. 'Buts' were not good, never good, especially in his current predicament.
"B-but?" He raised a brow, arms folded and his hands on his chest with his palms open and ready to push Alfred any moment. Or at least that was the plan, but before he even realized it, Alfred's hands were already on his shoulders and the American's face was close to his. Too close. He could see every detail in Alfred's eyes. "S-sir?"
"Quick question, I'm just really curious." Alfred bit his lip, and Arthur unconsciously mimicked him. It was surprising how he felt so conscious and embarrassed with the proximity of their faces, and Arthur almost wanted to scold him for being so unprofessional only to remember that no, he was no longer living that lifestyle anymore and the cameras had long made an exit in his life.
"What is it?"
"Are you…?" Alfred fidgeted. "You see it's just, you look like someone and I just wanna know if it's you."
"It's not me." He quickly answered, eager to get out of the situation that seemed to be getting worse for him.
"No! I think it's you!" Alfred answered back almost immediately as if he refused to walk out the door without knowing that his assumptions were right. When Arthur appeared to be startled, the American gave an apologetic smile. "Oh my god I'm sorry I didn't me to— okay, you see, you look like this um, famous person."
Famous? Arthur almost rolled his eyes. Of course. Of fucking course he was famous and last time he checked, the newbie who took after him as Ranked #1 in the world still hadn't beat his record sales.
"He's, this person, he's an actor." Alfred looked relieved that he finally got a near enough word to try and get his message through. Still acting innocent, Arthur blinked and raised his brows.
"Like Brad Pitt? Johnny Depp?" He not-so-helpfully supplied but hoped that Alfred would say yes. Who knew? Maybe after all he did have a look-a-like in Hollywood.
"Um, no." Alfred shook his head. "Not that kind of… actor."
Arthur was beginning to panic. He had to build and set his protective barriers quick.
"Err, is he a theatre actor?"
"No."
"From you drama club in high school?"
Alfred shook his head but oddly, to Arthur's annoyance, looking hopeful as if waiting for Arthur to arrive at the word he knew he was looking for.
"Drama club in middle school?"
"No."
"…preschool?" Arthur mentally whacked himself. One of the things he hated the most was playing stupid because first and foremost, it was hard to play stupid when he was not stupid in the fucking first place.
"I apologize, sir, but I can't continue playing this guessing game." The word stupid was left out. He took a step back, one hand resting on the door to make it obvious that he was itching to leave but it only seemed to make Alfred more pushy.
Now that he thought of it, it was kind of creepy because he was a pornstar for godsake, and Alfred recognized him but recognizing him was not enough. The man had to confirm it, to know that he was right. Arthur thought, and then what? What if he said yes? Will this Alfred Jones be asking for his autograph? A picture? Was he going to post it online and announce to the world that he found the record-breaking Red Woods working in a humble café?
Or maybe, Arthur thought, Alfred wanted to sleep with him? Make his fantasies real like a dream come true the same way that kids from the Tellytubby era dreamt of eating Tubby Toasts? Did that sentence even make sense?
"I'm creeping you out." Alfred said, frowning and looking even more apologetic than before that Arthur did not deem it possible. He almost felt sorry, almost, but he remembered that this guy was a fan, a diehard fan of who he was more than a year ago.
He was genuinely curious to know the answer to, 'and then what?' if he were to reveal who he was, but he knew better and decided against it.
"Yes you are." Arthur admitted, and the look on Alfred's face made him feel bad.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
"I just really thought you were him."
"It's alright. You're a fan and I understand." He offered a comforting hand to Alfred, his palm landing on the taller blond's chest without thinking. When the contact was made, both were suddenly hyper aware of everything. Arthur quickly but awkwardly withdrew his hand. He silently cursed at himself for being too affected by everything.
"T-thanks." Alfred exhaled.
"No problem." Arthur answered, and things just became an awkward step higher than it was seconds ago.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, eyes casted to the side as he silently prayed for anything to save him from the very unlikely situation he accidentally put himself to. Let there be a flying fridge somewhere! Or an alien invasion! Let the ground come alive and eat him then there! Alfred cleared his throat, nodding, and Arthur forced himself to laugh, acting that he found everything to be funny, which it probably was if it were not him that was in that moment.
"So uh," Alfred started and Arthur looked at him expectantly, secretly glad for that tiny flicker of hope that Alfred's opening could lead to the end of their conversation, meaning that Arthur could go back to his merry, waiter life. "I know I've been creepy and all but I swear I'm not always like this." Alfred paused and gave Arthur a hesitant look. "I'm still welcome here in this place, right?"
"Oh." Arthur blinked. It was totally not the kind of question he expected. When he came to, he nodded his head and pulled the corners of his lips up, but not too much. He did not want to come out as completely fine with the idea.
But in the end, he overdid himself by bursting out loud and clasping his hands.
"Of course! Why not? I mean, you know," 'Fuck, that was louder than I intended.' Alfred's shoulders noticeably jerked up in surprise and Arthur wanted to kick his own bum. He stupidly continued anyway. "well, this is America! The great U.S. of A. Land of the free! Why wouldn't you be welcome here? Of course, you can stop by here anytime. Anytime. Haha."
For a while, Alfred seemed taken a back. It was like the world just turned a hundred and eighty degrees and now Arthur was playing the creepy card. His forced laughter gradually died down as he looked away, waiting for Alfred to react. Well, the American could not possibly blame him now for acting weird. Alfred weirded him out first!
When Arthur looked back at him, to his surprise, Alfred was smiling. Genuinely smiling and his perfect teeth could reflect the sun's rays and blind every single person in the entire planet. Thank the heavens they were indoors.
"This is great!" Alfred exclaimed. Relief was painted all over his face. "I wouldn't wanna go back here if I'm gonna make you uncomfortable, you know. So, this is just… great. Really, dude. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Arthur's jaws were starting to hurt from smiling too much. It was probably the longest smiling time he had to endure in his whole entire life. He was now starting to make a mental list of all the gods and saints he knew from every religion so he could start praying for this conversation to reach its goddamn end.
"Well, I think I should be going now." Alfred said. Finally. "I haven't finished my coffee yet and I've inconvenienced you already."
Not wanting to b the jerk at the other end of the conversation, Arthur chuckled and, without really thinking about it, he responded with, "It's no big deal. I just need to wash my… pants." and he regretted feeling the need to say more.
"Oh." Alfred's eyes travelled down to his wet crotch, lingered there for a second longer than necessary, before coming back up to look at Arthur's face. "Oh."
"I'm clumsy." Arthur blurted out defensively even if it really was not his fault.
"I see."
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Alfred pursed his lips, eyes wide and unblinking. The mad effort in trying to retain eye contact and not look back down Arthur's crotch was oh so evident it made Arthur's face heat up from embarrassment.
"I think I really should leave now." The words flew out of Alfred's mouth very, very fast.
"Yes you do." Arthur's response was immediate.
The doorway was unfortunately narrow for the both of them to pass through at the same time. They bumped their shoulders into one another, and with Alfred being the bigger human, the impact caused Arthur to stumble back. He gasped, caused both by the slight yet surprising pain and from almost falling butt first on the floor. But his wrist was snatched by a firm hand, pulling him with a strength that he swore was capable of breaking the bones in his arm. Everything happened so fast and the second Arthur was able to catch his breath and register what just happened, he was already face to face with Alfred's chest.
Arthur pushed himself away and Alfred backed up, looking just as bewildered as he was.
"I, um, I—lol." Alfred had not idea what to say. 'Lol? LOL? What?' Arthur's brows furrowed. "I gotta go." Alfred muttered.
This time, Alfred carefully distanced himself from Arthur's body when he walked past him. Arthur was able to note how Alfred's arms were raised as if he was surrendering, or as if Arthur was a dead cockroach and Alfred would not want to have anything to do with a dead insect.
As soon as Alfred was clear from his vision, Arthur hastily pulled the door and went inside the restroom. A lungful of breath escaped him as he faced his reflection in the mirror, and it was only then that he realized how embarrassingly flustered he was with his cheeks and forehead and neck obviously red— oh my bloody god what just happened?
Bad shit. Bad shit just happened and he direly wished Alfred Jones lost the guts to come back in the cafe and it did not matter that Alfred, looking past through his creepiness, was admittedly hot.
Shame.
Arthur shook his head, sighed, and had the water running down the tap.
Was it a bad day or a good day? Alfred cannot decide. There were a lot of factors to consider, starting with how his not so innocent boner became the way to bumping into Red Wo— Arthur. Arthur K. God he still did not know what the 'K' stood for but whatever.
So far so good, and his penis fortunately sobered down from the shock followed by a huge wave of nervousness and panic after meeting Arthur eye to eye, although the waiter was a good few inches shorter than him. That meant, there was no evidence that he was shamelessly hard just a couple of minutes prior.
But then came the bad part a.k.a the 'hi-Alfred-Jones-huge-fan' part, which was just the beginning of his downfall. Alfred could have just stopped after his name, but he just had to add the 'huge fan' after, and the look on Arthur's face, the confusion and fear of encountering a blabbering idiot weirdo at the door of the restroom, was something that Alfred would have a problem forgetting.
If it were under another circumstance, he would take his precious time thinking how cute Arthur looked. He made a mental note on trying to get that kind of reaction again from Arthur, but for a completely different reason this time, something that would not involve making himself look stupid. But then again, that was if there was still going to be a next time, and the answer to that relied on the conclusion of whether it was a good day or not.
'Goodness fucking gracious.'
Alfred closed his eyes and leaned back, feet maneuvering his swiveling chair to do its job— to swivel. He delved deep, deep in his thoughts, and his mind was probably working more than it usually would when Alfred did his actual, paying job. It was clear as day that Arthur was not Red, judging by the waiter's reaction, not to mention that Arthur looked so innocent (and Alfred wanted nothing more than to taint him) when he blinked his eyes in obvious confusion. Arthur could not even get what kind of actor Alfred was trying to refer to without having him say it directly. It was as if the word 'porn' did not exist in the waiter's vocabulary. Or maybe Alfred was really just so goddamn perverted that he forgot everybody else was not exactly a hardcore porn star fan just like him.
Arthur did tell him that he was still absolutely welcome to return, because as far as the waiter was concerned, he was in the land of the free and there was no such thing as not being able to visit your favorite café in the land of the fucking free, that until Alfred stared at Arthur's wet crotch. Now that, Alfred had no idea if he would classify it as a good thing or not although for the record, Arthur invoked curiosity in his wet jeans by mentioning he had to wash his pants. How was Alfred supposed to react? Was he supposed to look up at the ceiling and say 'gosh dude I feel so sorry for your pants do you need some help?'
"Hey Alfred, can you help me out with—"
"NO!"
Toris stared back at him that same way Arthur did when Alfred proclaimed himself a huge fan. Slight difference though, Alfred found Arthur cute and sexy, but he found Toris to be nowhere near fitting the description. So instead of feeling sorry at having yelled at Toris, he waved the poor, shocked man away. His arm did big movements on pushing the air towards the left. There was an annoyed look on his face. When Toris was gone he rotated his chair a few degrees until he was face to face with his face reflected on the black screen of his Mac.
Now, back to the matter at hand.
'Jesus!'
Was it a good day or a bad day? Was he going back or not? Maybe he was thinking of an answer to wrong questions? Maybe what he really should be asking himself was, could he bare not seeing Arthur K ever again, or not?
"Jones!"
"What the fuck is it this time!?" Alfred almost slammed his hands on his desk, but he opted for the peaceful way, which was simply turning around and letting the squeak of his chair speak for his irritation. The bitter look on his face was quickly swept off, however, upon the sight of a pissed of Ludwig.
"Do you have a problem with me?" Ludwig crossed his arms, one foot tapping against the polished floor. Alfred forced a smile, and made sure that it was obvious how forced his smile was.
"Nope." He replied, making the 'p' pop loudly for the sake of pushing Ludwig just a little bit more off the edge, but not dangerously enough. Alfred still valued his life after all.
"Right. As if I'd believe that." Ludwig rolled his eyes then looked at Alfred sternly, not once breaking eye contact as he tossed a stack of papers on Alfred's desk. "Look, Jones, I don't care what your problem is exactly but for the love of god leave your sexual frustrations at home."
"What!?" Alfred exclaimed. The corner of Ludwig's lips twitched, trying to hide a smile, or maybe even a laugh.
"You tell my brother everything." Ludwig said as a matter of factly, and taking his turn to irk Alfred, he leaned in a bit closer, a firm hand rested on his shoulder. "You forgot something, Jones. Women talk."
"But I didn't even—"
"I need those reports on my desk by five."
Alfred did not even get to finish his statement when Ludwig turned and left, a subtle skip in his steps, giddy from turning the tables on Alfred. It was supposed to be him making fun of Ludwig, not the other around! And what was the deal with Gilbert?
He glared at the pile of work on his desk, and decided that that will have to wait. He quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed Gilbert's number. So what if Gilbert was in a shitty mood? Alfred was in a shitty mood himself and it was not even caused by the happening in the café anymore! After a few rings, Gilbert's voice went through and it sounded as loathing as it did when they came up to meet Antonio and the rest for a supposedly enjoyable lunch.
"The hell are you calling for, Al?"
"Did you tell Ludwig I'm sexually frustrated?" He asked as he slumped down his seat, his face smeared over by disbelief and a look of betrayal. There was silence for a while, and it was beginning to last longer than Alfred's patience. "Gilbert!"
"It just came up! Geez, what the hell don't shout damn it!" Gilbert did not even sound apologetic in the slightest. "What's the big deal?"
"What's the big deal!? What the big d— alright, listen, and listen goddamn carefully."
"Okay."
Alfred took a deep breath in and then out.
"Ludwig called you a woman."
"He did what!?" Gilbert's voice rose plenty enough for Alfred to hear even with his phone not touching his ear. Gilbert became more and more affected when he repeated it again and again. "Ludwig called me, the awesome me, a woman? A. Woman? He called me—"
"So what!? Is it so bad? Degrading? You got a problem with women!?" It was Elizabetha's voice. "Come here and let me tell you a little something about women."
As soon as Alfred heard a chair being pushed, which meant Liz was surely standing up and towering over Gilbert's poor soul, Alfred decided it was the perfect time to end the call.
"No Liz wait—"
Click! Call ended.
Alfred still felt down and remorseful and everything bad after everything that had happened, but at least a little bit of those bad vibes disappeared, all thanks to Gilbert. He would probably suffer an ear-load of rants and complaints from Gilbert when he returned, but hey, that came with the possibility of seeing his face swollen from Elizabetha's punches.
For the second time he eyed his paper work with full on hatred, but if Ludwig was there he would have glared at Ludwig instead for having distracted him from making one of the hardest decisions he was to make in his life.
Ugh. Whatever.
He began scanning through the stapled pages. The sooner he could get the work done, the sooner he could go home. There was no way he was going to stay at the office until seven. Not with all the thinking that was needed to be done.
He could come with a decision later on bed.
"Please sir. I need to get a passing grade or my parents will get mad."
He stood there before the desk, the only thing that separated him from the poor excuse of a teacher. His hair was gelled, making it obediently parted at the side and flat against his head.
"But you failed, Mr. Woods." came the gruff voice of the acting teacher as he leaned forward, muscled, tattooed arms parallel to each other on top of the wooden table. His hands were clasped, and there was a thoughtful look on his face but it could not fool anyone.
"I really need to pass sir." Red Woods' green eyes glistened behind his red, round shaped eyeglasses. He bit his lip, seemingly choking back a sob. "I don't want to disappoint my parents. I'm the eldest child. Please sir, I will do anything just to pass."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
The teacher rubbed his fingers in his chin, appearing to give it a thought. Red's fingers fiddled with the hem of his striped shirt. He was biting his lip, nervously waiting for his teacher's answer, hoping that his teacher would be so kind and consider. After all, he was willing to do anything. Let the gods grace his thoughtful teacher with kindness.
"Are you sure?" The teacher asked again, and when Red nodded his head, gone was the kind, patient, understanding, and endearing teacher image. What was now seating on the chair at the other side of the table was a man ready to fuck his student in every way possible. "Okay then, Red. Strip."
The camera slowly panned from the pervert teacher to the now fidgeting student.
He looked so small, so weak, so vulnerable. Red was chewing on his lower lip, looking unsure but then he was already putting his satchel down the floor. Slim, trembling fingers made their way at the edge of his shirt, and slowly it was lifted up, revealing inch per inch of creamy white skin.
Back in the real world outside the computer screen, Alfred was slowly palming his own erection that was still encased within his boxers.
Red's shirt dropped right beside his bag. His hair was slightly tousled after having the stripped cloth pass over his head. When Red's hands began unbuttoning his pants, Alfred held his breath, releasing only small puffs from building anticipation despite knowing exactly what to expect. After the button was undone, the zipper was being pulled down slowly. The camera zoomed in on it, savoring every second of the zipper's journey south. The pants came next, sliding down Red's legs and Alfred wanted nothing more than to lick them.
"Good." The teacher said, looking genuinely happy with that he was seeing. Alfred almost forgot about him. "Now come here."
Red walked over, still looking shy as ever. Gloriously, he kept his glasses on.
The teacher grinned and, not satisfied with their distance, pulled red closer to him until his student was standing in between his knees. Big hands explored the blank canvas before him. Thumbs going over already perked nipples, making Red shudder and aroused. The teacher rubbed his index finger on Red's boxer shorts until the bulge was obvious enough even without the camera zooming in on it.
When the teacher smirked and ordered for Red to kneel down, Alfred started imagining himself to be in the teacher's place and the sounds from his laptop were soon drowned away by his own voice, his own grunts and own squelching noises. He had pulled his cock out and was now pumping on it slowly.
Red knelt down with his eyes wide through his red glasses, waiting for the teacher to tell him what to do next.
"Put your hands behind your back and unzip my pants."
And he did, using his teeth. Slowly but surely, he dragged the zipper down, exposing an already leaking cock underneath. The acting teacher was not even wearing anything under his slacks! Not that it was important.
Red's lips formed an 'o', eyes now a bit wide from surprise and amusement. Because damn that was a large dick right in front of his face, and as far as porn was concerned, he was bound to suck it and take it all the way down his throat.
"You know what to do."
The teacher said and Red nodded his head before opening his mouth and taking in the massive girth in one go.
Alfred's pumping quickened. The movements of his hand varied on the speed of Red's bobbing head. Whenever Red paused to catch his breath, Alfred's hand would stop, and when Red paid attention to the cock's head, Alfred would put pressure on his own dickhead until Red stopped and continued with deep throating the whole thing.
It continued on for long minutes, with Alfred holding back his orgasm from time to time because he was already damn too close and the video was nowhere near finished yet. The blowjob had just started. Red's asshole was still yet to be fingered while bent over the teacher's desk. But Alfred was really close now. Really, really close. The frustration that was built up from his unsatisfied boner earlier at the café made worse by the image of Arthur K's soaked crotch was getting to him.
"mmff!" The choking noises entered Alfred's ears like a tempting siren's melody, tipping him over the edge. Red pulled away, gasping for air. His hair was a total mess after the teacher's fingers curled, tangled, and pulled on the red strands.
Alfred's half-lidded eyes followed the trail of saliva and precum that Red's tongue made as he nipped on the angry, protruding veins of the cock on his face. The teacher grunted, and Alfred swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth before releasing a grunt of his own. Red's mouth traveled from shaft down to the teacher's balls, sucking on each one with diligently, making sure that both got the same amount of affection from his tongue and lips. Alfred's other free hand travelled on his balls, trying to match the pleasure that Red was generously giving on the teacher's testicles.
The teacher pulled Red away by the hair. Alfred's hand continued to pump up and down, not slowing down anymore. He bit his lip and watched the teacher push Red over the table, one hand lifting and supporting one leg so that Red was wide open for the camera to see. His boxers dangled on one foot. Alfred did not even notice them being taken off. Alfred began to shudder and breath harder.
When the teacher slammed his hard, angry dick inside Red's seemingly virgin asshole in one, quick swoop, Alfred came.
His cum was hot and it flowed down his palms, dripping off the edges of his fingernails. He quickly reached out and pulled a couple of tissues from the box beside him, wiping away the white mess that caught him by surprise. There was cum trickling down his thigh. There were tiny drops that made it on his bed sheet but it was hardly noticeable. Alfred wiped everything there was to wipe. The video was still playing on his laptop and Red was now a panting, moaning mess. His glasses were close to falling off his face. The shyness and innocence from minutes ago disappeared as if he never acted like a student simply desperate for a passing grade. Now, Red was desperate for cock, and more cock, but unfortunately for him only one man was fucking him and he was not even Alfred Jones.
But at least the fake teacher did not come as quickly as Alfred did.
He clicked his tongue. He did not make it until the end of the video like he usually would. Was he getting old? No. That was ridiculous. He was not even thirty yet.
When he was all cleaned up and ready for bed, Alfred bitterly closed the video and shut his laptop down before placing it just below his bed where he always kept it. He stared up the ceiling, his whole body free from the blanket, which he tossed aside. After having just gone through his nightly activity, his body still felt warm.
He stared up at the ceiling. His mind was now clear and free, making it vulnerable to replays of that day's events with the highlight being his encounter with Arthur. Alfred closed his eyes, lips pursed, brows knitted together. His curiosity about Arthur possibly being Red Woods was now down the drain. Arthur looked at him with absolutely no idea at what he was hinting at. He was even certain that Arthur had not heard of Red Woods from the way the waiter reacted to his questions.
So what reason did Alfred still have to go back?
Sure, Arthur did tell him he was free to return, but he did not exactly promise Arthur that he certainly would and it was also not as if Arthur was surely going to expect him.
Was it just the sheer thought of Arthur being so closely alike with Red Woods that Alfred felt the urge to return? If that was it then Alfred definitely would not go back, because then he would really be proudly carrying the 'I'm a creepy pervert and I'm proud' badge and that was the last thing he was trying to achieve.
Alfred frowned, his heart thumping heavily against his chest as he made a decision. It was all for the best, for him and for Arthur as well. He turned and laid on his stomach, eyes squinting at the red numbers from his digital clock.
He was going to stop going to the café. A week had been enough, and he already got the answer he was looking for. Besides, tomorrow was a Sunday. No reason to go anywhere near the cafe. He might as well use it find other distractions, like new video games or comic books, or those manga things that Kiku always brought in the office.
Alfred closed his eyes and resolved on staying firm with his decision, but fate always had different plans.
I think I got carried away with the smut part... Thanks for reading!
Aand sorry if it took me a loong while to update. I'll try my best to finish the next chapter asap aklsdjklasjdl.
Thanks again! Feel free to point out mistakes as usual.
Till next tiiime! :D :D