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storiesforallfandoms · 5 months ago

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by the lake ~ benedict bridgerton;bridgerton

word count: 2675

request?: no

description: in which she flees from a pushy suitor, only to find a lovely alternative painting by the lake

pairing: benedict bridgerton x female!reader

warnings: period accurate stuff, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Whenever perpetual bachelors would moan about the courting season, I couldn't help but laugh. Sure, eager mamas trying to force a connection with their daughters could be tiring, but as a man it was fine to turn down potential wives and live a life of bachelordom. For women, that wasn't an option. The moment we come of age we are expected to find a husband and bare children. If we don't, we are spinsters that essentially become outcasted from society.

Not to mention that some male suitors can be just as pushy as the eager mamas.

One example of this was Lord Windsor, a middle aged Lord who had gone a number of seasons without finding a wife and had gotten noticeably desperate. Lord Windsor was okay on the eyes, but not overly handsome. He came from a prominent family, but was the youngest of the three brothers. And, the worst of all, he had the personality of a wet napkin. He was awkward and bored anyone he spoke to to tears.

And I was his current victim.

I was attending an event in town with my family when Lord Windsor's attention fell on me. He began talking to me - or rather at me - not noticing how desperately I was trying to escape him. I kept trying to make eye contact with anyone who passed by to try and silently ask for help. Some gave me a sympathetic look as they passed by, while others merely snickered at my misery.

I was becoming overwhelmed with his persistence. I would do anything to get away from him.

In a moment of desperation, I said, "Can you get me a drink? I am parched."

He seemed almost perturbed by my request, but went off to get me a drink anyways. Once he had mostly disappeared into the crowd, I turned and ran off. I had no idea where I was going, but I needed to get away. Not only from Lord Windsor, but from any other desperate and pushy suitor who would try and approach me.

I found myself stumbling down a trail and coming out by a lake. It was peaceful - the water bright blue and calm, and the area was empty. Well, almost empty. There was a gentleman sat facing the water, with a canvas set up in front of him, painting a lovely portrait of the calming lake. I gasped as he turned and I recognized who it was: Benedict Bridgerton.

"I-I am so sorry," I said. "I did not realize - "

"No need to apologize," he said, smiling at me. Oh my, his smile was so handsome. "This is a public place. I lay no claim to it. And I will not complain about the company of a beautiful lady."

I felt my cheeks light on fire at his compliment.

He glanced behind me, as if expecting someone else to be there. I realized then that by fleeing Lord Windsor, I had also left behind my mother, who was supposed to be my chaperon to the event. Now I was here, alone with a man, far away from the event. It would be a scandal if anyone found out, and the Bridgerton family had had enough scandals in the last year or so.

"I should go," I said, turning to leave.

"I don't mind some company," he said. "And perhaps a lady should not wander on her own."

"I suppose not."

Benedict gestured to a nearby bench. I sat down and watched as he returned to his painting. It was a truly beautiful creation. Better than some of the portraits mama had on her wall. It was a perfect recreation of the scene in front of him.

I had heard about Benedict's artistic abilities. The whole Ton had. It was quite the surprise when Benedict Bridgerton, one of the most sought after bachelors in the Ton, had decided to pursue art instead of a wife. Many hopeful debutantes thought that he would only do it for a short period of time before finally taking a wife. I could still hear mama ranting about it after reading that morning's Whistledown. But watching him now, I could see his talent and passion for the art. I didn't blame him for not wanting to give this up just to get married when he clearly had no desire to take a wife.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?"

I jumped when his voice broke the silence. He turned to smirk at me and I felt my face light on fire, as if he had caught me doing something wrong.

"I was attending the event in town but...I needed some space," I explained.

"Ah, I understand. Those events can be tiresome. Many people either gossiping or trying too hard to remain in some arbitrary social circles."

"You are one to speak when your family is part of the most respected social circle."

"I did call it arbitrary, did I not?"

I chuckled and nodded. "Yes, I suppose you are right. My biggest plight are the suitors, though."

Benedict paused with his hand raised to his canvas. He lowered the brush back into the paint to look at me again. "You are unmarried?"

I nodded. "Not for the lack of trying on my mother's part. I just haven't met anyone that I click with yet. Unfortunately, the marriage pool is becoming very shallow. I was being pursued by Lord Windsor today."

Benedict cringed. "Oh, I definitely understand your need to get away then. Lord Windsor is...a man...to say the least."

"That is one way to describe him."

He smiled. I watched him run his brush through the cup of water before drying it in a cloth and standing. I watched as he began to pack away his painting supplies. "What are you doing?"

"I have a carriage waiting by the road. I am going to bring my art supplied back there, then I will walk with you around the lake before returning you to your family in the town." I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off by saying, "I was finished with my painting anyways, and I must make an appearance there, no matter how brief it is. I would not mind arriving with such a beautiful lady on my arm."

He knew exactly how to shut me up and he had only met me moments prior. My mouth shut instantly and, for a third time in such a short period of time, I felt like I was blushing. Benedict smiled at me again, almost triumphant, before going to his carriage with his art supplies. I remained seated on the bench until his returned, in which he extended his arm to me and I took it.

Our sides were pressed firmly together as we began to walk. My arm, hip, nearly my legs if it were not for my dress, were pressed against his. The parts that were touching started to feel warm and fuzzy. I wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with me, until I looked up at Benedict and his eyes met mine, and suddenly that warm and fuzzy feeling was running through my entire body.

Of course I always knew Benedict Bridgerton was attractive. I had eyes that could see his beauty, and I had ears that could hear all the gossip from other mamas and debutantes about him. But being here, with my arm laced through his and our bodies so close together, was much different than observing him from afar.

"How many seasons have you been through?" he asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

"This is my third," I responded. He gave me a look that made me giggle. "What?"

"You were not married in your first season?"

"I believe that is what I said, yes. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, forgive me for sounding like a broken record, but you are incredibly beautiful. If I know anything from my years observing the marriage markets, it is that beautiful women usually have a very easy time finding a husband."

"I am flattered by your compliments, and you would be right that I had no shortage of suitors asking to court me, but the thing is is that I am looking for something that many seem to think is impossible: a love match."

Benedict scoffed. "Impossible? I have three siblings that would argue with you there."

"They are exceptions, not the rules. Of course there are people who marry for love, but there are still others who only believe in marrying for looks and for titles. And it seems there are very few suitors who are looking for a love match. Most of them just want a beautiful lady who they can take to bed and produce heirs with, and once that job is done they will return to the brothels."

"You would get along exceptionally with my sister, Eloise."

I smiled. I squeezed his arm a little as I asked, "Why have you not married then, Mr. Bridgerton?"

"Please, call me Benedict," he said. "Which reminds me, I have no caught your name yet."

"(Y/N)," I told him. "And do not avoid my question."

"I would never!" he said in mock offense. "My answer is just more selfish than yours."

"That does not make me want to hear it any less."

He chuckled. "I have just never had the desire to take a wife. My older brother, Anthony, is the Viscount, he was the one expected to find a wife and produce little Viscount heirs. Daphne was the first daughter to come of age to join the season, and her love match has made our mother much more intent on having similar experiences for my other sisters. Colin, Gregory, and I are not under the same pressure as our other siblings. Colin had his travels, Gregory is far too young to consider marriage as it is, and I have my art. I thought Colin and I were in agreement about our thoughts on marriage, but it seems he has changed his mind."

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Changed your mind?"

Benedict stopped walking a moment, pulling me to a halt next to him. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he said, "I have not decided."

We continued to walk in silence for a while. It was a beautiful day, and the lake was an ideal place to be. The water shimmered under the bright sun, still calm without a single ripple, and the sky was clear without a single cloud. It was a beautiful day, and I was walking with Benedict Bridgerton. It truly could not be a better day.

"Your painting was beautiful, by the way," I told him. "I understand why you would choose art. You have quite the talent for it."

"Thank you," he said. I could see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. One that was genuine, maybe a bit flustered at the compliment.

"What do you do with your art? Do you sell it or hang it yourself?"

"Oh no, my mother usually takes whatever I paint and hangs it around the estate. I think most of the artwork in our house is all mine now. She loves to gush over what I have painted, almost embarrassingly so."

"Well, I would love to have one for my home, if you do not mind having another client."

He looked down at me. "Really?"

I nodded. "I believe your painting to be more beautiful than some of my own mama's choices of artwork. But keep that between us."

He smiled. "I will not tell a soul."

We began walking up a path that led back to the town, and suddenly I could heard the bustling of the event. The light and happy feeling I had since running into Benedict had slowly began to fade into dread as I realized what our arrival at the event meant. With any luck, my mother would want to leave the second she found me and I would not have to endure Lord Windsor for any longer.

I expected to be surrounded the second we came into view. I thought, for some reason, that mama would know of my disappearance and would be worried sick. I expected lots of questioning, and then for her to whisk me away quickly where she would likely continue to question me at home.

To my surprise, no one approached us at first. No one even noticed our arrival for a few moments, until one person glanced at Benedict and I as we walked past, and then did a double take to make sure they had seen correctly. Suddenly, there were dozens of prying eyes and hushed voices, with us at the centre of all their attention.

"I told you," Benedict whispered in my ear. "All gossiping."

"Seems we may find ourselves in the next issue of Whistledown," I said.

Benedict gave me a playful smile and said, "May as well make that count then."

He led me through the crowds of people, all whispering and watching us go. I was beginning to feel a little insecure under all their watchful eyes, until I noticed Lord Windsor as one of the many who was watching us. His face looked sullen as he watched us go by, holding two cups in his hand - he still had the drink I sent him to get. The thought of him standing around with it in his hand this whole time made me giggle to myself, and then I found myself standing up straighter and leaning into Benedict more. Lord Windsor seemed to have gotten the message loud and clear.

I found my mama with a group of other mothers, and when we began to approach they all fell silent. Mama looked at us and her eyes widened with shock.

"Mr. Bridgerton," she said, looking between myself and Benedict. "How lovely it is to see you."

"I hope you do not mind my borrowing of your daughter, my lady," Benedict said. "She was most excellent company for a walk around the lake nearby."

Mama looked to me like she was trying to figure out why I had left without telling her. I merely smiled at her, mentally willing her to leave that question until we returned home.

"Of course I do not mind at all, Mr. Bridgerton," mama said. "Although, next time I do hope there shall be a chaperone with you."

I opened my mouth to tell her there would be no next time, but Benedict cut me off by saying, "Of course. I was hoping to call on her tomorrow afternoon, if that is alright with you."

Mama seemed just as dazed as I was. She managed to stutter out an agreement, which amused Benedict to no end. She turned back to her friends as Benedict and I stepped away to speak once more.

"You are giving her some false hope," I told him.

"What do you mean?"

"You are making her believe that you are going to court me. She will be more heartbroken than I when she realizes that is not the case."

"Who said I do not intend to court you?"

It was my turn to be at a loss for words. I tried to form a coherent sentence, but I just stood there with my mouth open, no doubt looking tremendously stupid.

"You seem like a lovely lady, (Y/N)," Benedict said when I could not find the words to say. "I truly did enjoy our time together today. I would like to spend more time with you, if you would allow it. And I must bring that painting to you at some point, remember?"

I nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would very much like to spend more time with you as well."

His smile was bright and genuine once again. I couldn't help but smile back at him. "Perfect. I shall see you tomorrow afternoon then."

"Yes. I suppose you shall."

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #luke thompson #luke thompson imagine #luke thompson x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #netflix #imagine #one shot #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom

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vonlycsnn · 3 months ago

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✧ — PICTURE PERFECT

~ VON LYCAON X GENDER NEUTRAL ARTIST! READER.

SUMMARY: You're a famous artist/illustrator in New Eridu, absolutely tired of trying to deal with recent problems. then you decide to call Victoria Housekeeping Co. for some help, it was the best decision of your life.

- cw/tw: none.

- A/N: im so obsessed over this man its genuinely concerning, pls help. also this might be messy/ooc(?)...it's my first time writing this kinda stuff so bare with me.

Being such a well-known artist in New Eridu is tough work. Not only do you have to keep up with your clients' demands and expectations, you also have to deal with thieves trying to steal your work.

You were thankful that some of your most valuable artworks were in museums that had incredible security, but even so, those bastards are still trying to break into your mansion and steal your canvases that have yet to be delivered or even unfinished.

Understandably, you grew tired of all the stuff you went through, slowly becoming restless from the amount of sleepless nights you had to fight through. To the point where you wanted to quit art completely but you just couldn't. Art was your passion. You've been drawing for nearly your entire life; you couldn't quit now.

Thankfully, a kind client of yours took notice of your situation and recommended Victoria Housekeeping to you. At first you were skeptical; there's no way a housekeeping company could help you with these problems, right?

—

"I don't think they'll be able to help me..." you kindly said. The client merely smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

"Just give them a call. Trust me."

—

And here you are now, constantly being served and protected by the members of Victoria Housekeeping. You were extremely grateful for their service; they've made your life so much better than you expected.

You've grown so close to them that you became one of their most respected clients, having to be close friends with each of the members. You didn't want to say that you had a favorite attendant, but you do have a preferred one.

Rina, although her general services are incredible and you'd always find yourself having a great time with her, her culinary skills are...questionable at best, but still, you didn't want to upset her by any means.

Corin is a sweet girl. When the two of you became acquainted, you saw her as a little sister. Although you were surprised at how strong she is for her age, you didn't think much of it. The problem with her is how much she doubts herself; you'd have to constantly remind her that she's not doing anything wrong, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were pretty annoyed.

Ellen, well...she isn't too enthusiastic about regular housekeeping jobs, not to mention she's always low-energy. But the number of times she saved you from the most dangerous situations was enough for her to gain your respect. Plus, talking about internet trends with her is always fun.

And there's Lycaon. Oh, did you have so many words about him. To keep it simple, he was just right. His services are always near perfect; he has saved you countless times from hollows and thieves; he is elegant; he is a gentleman; you could ramble about him all day for all you cared.

To be perfectly honest, you grew a crush on him. Every time he'd lean behind you to see what you're working on, you'd always freeze in place. Too flustered by what was happening. Every time you'd hear his voice, you'd melt. The way he acts just makes your heart flutter...He was perfect.

As your own personal request for him, you wished he'd spend more time with you. Be it in the mansion or outside. He smiled, bowing down in front of you.

—

"As you wish, master. I'm more than happy to spend time with an amazing artist such as yourself." He said. You saw his tail wagging ever so slightly, but decided to say nothing; you merely smiled.

—

Every now and then he'd come to your office to check on you; he'd bring you food every time you lost track of time; he'd give you a massage whenever you had free time.

"It's always important to maintain a good posture, master." As he would say.

But being an attendant for a full-time artist comes with its own challenges. Other than having to constantly be on guard at night for possible thieves, he'd always let out an irritated sigh whenever he saw your workspace covered in paint. Especially when you're making abstract art. But he understands that art can be messy sometimes, and that's fine.

Every time you get a commission to make abstract art, you'd always rent a workspace outside of the mansion. Just so Lycaon doesn't have to deal with the mess.

But other than that, the two of you were grateful for each other's company.

Much to your dismay, however, your feelings for him grew the longer you spent time with him. You became so close to Lycaon than any of the other attendants; he knew your weakness, he knew your strengths, and he even knew some of your secrets.

You couldn't express your feelings for him with words, and so you did what you knew best: to draw. As a request, you asked Lycaon if you could take a few pictures of him. Of course he obliged. Amidst the photography, he asked.

"If I were to be bold to ask, master, what is the purpose of this?"

You merely smiled at him, saying that it's nothing important. A part of him knew about what you're planning, but he decided to keep quiet and merely chuckled.

After the interaction, you quickly but stealthily took a small canvas and a few of your painting supplies.

—

Days passed, and the painting was finally ready. You have pulled many all-nighters to finish this; you spent so much time carefully adding details and capturing his looks to the formerly blank canvas. And you couldn't be happier with the results; you just hope it was enough to make him understand the message you're trying to pass.

You took a deep breath and finally called for him. He quickly arrives at your workspace, noticing the medium-sized easel and the small paint stains on the floor. Your back was facing towards him, trying to hide the painting from his view. Realizing what to do, you flipped the canvas and turned towards him. He was understandably confused, and you were too nervous to say anything. You quickly walked up to him and handed the canvas to him.

"Here. I...made this for you." You said in such a shaky voice, he was almost concerned. But he gently grabs the canvas, and finally, he turns it to reveal the drawing. He was... speechless. Absolutely speechless. Just standing there, appreciating what he's seeing. You stuttered, trying to get words out of your mouth.

"...as a way to express how much I'm thankful for everything you've done. You're an amazing attendant, and I wanted to repay you somehow. W-well, other than using money." You awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with your fingers.

Lycaon continues to silently admire your work of him. You captured his features so well; the colors were so nice to look at, the pose, the lighting... it was so beautiful. He always appreciates the time and effort you put into your artwork. Secretly, he has been going to your workspace at night to admire all of the work you've done. He couldn't help but laugh once he saw how red your face was.

"My sincere apologies, master. But if I may ask, what are you trying to say?" He asked, almost in a teasing matter. Oh, he knows.

You panicked, so overwhelmed by the situation at hand. A part of you is trying to come up with lies, but ultimately, you gave in.

After taking a deep breath, you officially admitted your true feelings. Well, in the simplest way possible. You couldn't help but cringe at what you've said. This is so embarrassing, you thought.

Lycaon smiled, looking back at the painting to caress the sides of the canvas. He chuckled once more.

"What an astonishing way to express such feelings towards someone. I must say, master, I'm truly impressed."

The thiren carefully puts the canvas on a small table next to him, then he walks towards you. Gently grabbing your hand.

"As for what are my thoughts regarding all of this," he then proceeds to kiss the back of your hand. You jumped to his action, watching every move he made. He looked back at you softly.

There you heard it—the words that'd make you fall to the ground instantly.

"I'd be delighted to be more than an attendant for you, my dear."

#N-Writes #zenless zone zero #zzz #zzzero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #von lycaon #zzz lycaon #von lycaon x reader #lycaon x reader #zenless zone zero lycaon

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astarion-obsessions · 1 year ago

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I think not enough people understand that Astarion doesn't want you to be his main or only source of blood. This even stands in direct contrast to what he really wants to achieve with biting Tav. Let me explain.

Why Astarion doesn't want you to be his blood bag

Let me start with explaining how I approached this topic. First of all, when I triggered the bite scene in my playthrough, I obviously let Astarion drink from my Tav. But then I got curious. What happens when I don't stop him? He's said I could trust him just a moment ago, didn't he? So I did just that, I trusted him literally with my life.

Aaaand... he killed me. Well. What did I expect from a vampire, really. But that he actually drained me dry broke my heart. I really wanted to trust him, to reach out and show him that I didn't judge him for what he was and so on. I was really disappointed in him and couldn't quite grasp why he would do this. Was it a conscious decision? Did he lose control? Surely he would apologise and explain everything to me once someone resurrected me, returning the trust I was giving him the night prior, right?... right?

Of course not. The dialogue after him killing Tav was... at least as disappointing as him killing Tav in the first place. He shows his usual attitude, apologises half-heartedly and then just keeps going on with talking about draining the occasional bandit. He even snaps when you mention the topic of him feeding after that with something like "I already apologised, what more do you want?".

There's no real regret, no emotions. He simply doesn't care.

We know that he didn't care in the beginning, he tells us as much when he confesses his unwanted, growing feelings towards Tav in act 2. But still the whole bite scene didn't sit right with me until…

The Nightmare

I randomly stumbled upon a clip of Astarion having a nightmare, so I researched about it and even started an Astarion run to experience it myself. So, if you play as Astarion, at the second long rest of act 1 he has a nightmare about Cazador, in which he recites the rules that defined how Astarion and the other spawn had to live:

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.

Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

However Astarion reacts to this dream, he jolts awake afterwards and instinctively panics that he needs to find a way back to his master as soon as possible. His eyes set on his companions, who are sleeping / meditating peacefully around the fire, and then a thought passes his mind.

He could try to break one of Cazador's rules right then and there. He's able to stand in the sun, to bathe in running water, so maybe…

And that's why he decides to bite a companion. Astarion wakes up utterly terrified of what his master will do to him if he doesn't return to him in an instant - and he knows all too well what kind of horrors would await him if he so much as dares to think about rebelling again (read about that here) - so he is in desperate need of confirmation that he is now able to withstand and actively break the rules that have dominated his life for two centuries.

He needs to know that he is able to drink the blood of a thinking creature. And there they are. His clueless companions served on a silver platter. It's like an invitation to him, to test his boundaries. And who would be more fitting than the good hearted leader of the party Astarion wanted to (or already has) seduce(d) anyway?

This piece of information shed a whole new light on the bite scene. But let's look a bit closer at that.

The Bite Night

The very first thing Tav registers about what's going on with Astarion that night is him baring his fangs right above us, about to sink them into our flesh. He pulls back as soon as we open our eyes, retreating immediately until there's a safe distance between him and Tav.

This may be the first time Tav gets to know that Astarion is a vampire, so he gets defensive and tells us that he's never killed a person for food, only animals. But then, instead of letting the idea of feeding on Tav go, he insists that animals aren't enough.

But it's not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak.

If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.

Then he goes on, literally pleading to get what he wants while putting on a sad expression in the end, even averting his gaze.

And if we now have in mind that he just woke up from a nightmare about Cazador, feeling powerless and in desperate need of even a glimpse of hope that he might escape Cazador's cruel grip, his lines make a lot of sense. He's veiling the truth, of course, but not all of what he says is a lie.

He indeed feels weak - powerless in fact - so drinking Tav's blood (the blood of a thinking creature) could prove that he may have regained a bit of power over himself, which had been exclusively reserved for Cazador the last 200 years. This would absolutely make him feel stronger, more confident than he's felt for a long, long time.

And he indeed could think clearer after tasting Tav's blood, because this would bring clarity to the question if he is now able to break Cazador's rules on purpose and therefore give him information to work with when he needs to think about what to do next.

Right after this, we get the chance to push into Astarion's mind, and if we do this, we can see what he thinks about.

His mind opens up, revealing cracked and quivering memories. At their heart, you see dark eyes, commanding you to feed.

You open your mouth and bite down. Not into a tender neck, but in the twisting body of a rat - the only thing your master lets you eat.

He recalls the memory of how his master used to force him to eat disgusting vermin. As his memory is told, we can clearly see how deeply this affects him, for he can't keep up his walls of defensiveness and detachment. They just crack, crumble and reveal his misery clearly for Tav to observe. When we ask him about it directly afterwards, he first seems to search for a way out - a witty remark, anything - but gives up almost immediately. And he looks and sounds just completely defeated and tired, confirming what Tav just saw in his mind.

He goes on with talking about trust. I think here he's seeing a chance to gain Tav's sympathy. If he already reveals such delicate information about his past, he can as well make use of it. So he appeals to Tav's understanding, offering us that this past is the reason for him only trusting Tav slowly. But then he immediately adds that now he trusts Tav, and that in return Tav can trust him, too.

What he does here is displaying himself as pitiful, gaining Tav's sympathy, then seemingly going out of his way and saying that despite all he does trust Tav, which puts Tav in the position to follow suit with returning the trust… which Astarion definitely lied about on his part. But that's what he does. Manipulating.

If we then respond with "You tried to bite me. How can I trust you?" instead of assuring us of his trustworthiness with more manipulation, he gets frustrated.

Because we don't have a choice! Not if we're going to save ourselves from these worms.

But he goes on with masking his reasons, even if he gave us a hint right in the beginning of act 1 when we picked him up, where he said that he would rather control the tadpole instead of removing it. If we play as Astarion, it gets clear pretty fast that he holds onto the tadpole, because it seems to be the only thing that had been able to "save" him from Cazador whilst no one and nothing else even attempted to help him for two centuries. Of course he would not want to get rid of the tadpole just like that. But he says so nonetheless to align with Tav's goals and display himself as useful.

And then he does something interesting.

I need you alive. You need me strong.

Please. Only be a taste, I swear. I'll be well, you'll be fine, and everything can go back to normal.

In the beginning of this conversation he mentioned he needed the blood to fight better. Now he takes up on this by saying that Tav needs him strong, hinting on him getting stronger after having a taste of Tav's blood. And then he promises that after this "everything can go back to normal", which right now means Astarion feeding on animals again.

A few things about this are odd.

Firstly, "only be a taste". Everyone, literally everyone has heard about the insatiable hunger of vampires. So how is it supposed to work that Astarion gets stronger from just a taste of Tav's blood? For how long? A few hours? Not nearly long enough to pose a real advantage, eh? For me this makes no sense. And if we think about his true intentions - wanting to find out if he can break Cazador's rule - just a taste would be absolutely enough. (And after he bites Tav without killing them, he even says that he needs something more filling!)

Secondly, if Astarion really wanted to become stronger with the help of Tav's blood, why would he promise to go back to normal afterwards? He just offered Tav a stronger companion but then immediately nullified this argument by literally saying that this will be a one time arrangement.

Thirdly, he subtly offers a bargain. "You give me your blood, I will be a stronger fighter for you." He did so in the beginning as well, repeating it with different words. And it fits his character very well to do so, because for all he knows everything comes with a price. He almost gets beaten to death and Cazador mercifully comes to his rescue? The price is a never ending life of torment and abuse. Astarion helps a potential victim for Cazador to flee? The price is a year of starvation, locked up in a dusty and dark tomb without knowing if it will ever find an end. Mindflayers rescued him from Cazador, (passively) granting him to possibly be free of him at last? The price is becoming a tentacled monster in the end.

If we then allow him to bite us, he's visibly surprised about our graciousness, but of course doesn't let this chance slip and suggests getting comfortable instantly. Then he finally gets to sink his teeth into Tav's neck. This part of the scene can more or less be viewed from both sides - Astarion's and Tav's.

He begins to feed on Tav and after a bit we can decide to interrupt him, but have to pass an ability check first. This repeats a second time when playing Tav, and even if it's only one AC when we play Astarion and decide to bite a companion, it still aligns, showing that Astarion seemingly loses himself in the taste of Tav's blood - which is very likely because (as he later tells us) we were the first humanoid he's ever fed on, so it's imaginable that Tav's blood must be tasting almost divine to him.

This theory is supported by his actions after we fail the first AC or just let him continue. He grabs the back of Tav's head to pull them towards himself, emphasising on how greedy he is sucking the blood out of Tav. The camera even uses the exact same angles before failing or skipping the first AC and after, so the comparison is easy and the difference is clear:

If we then fail or skip the next AC, Astarion just drains us dry… And it gets even better after the bite night.

The Morning After

When Tav gets revived and then talks to Astarion, he is visibly surprised to see us, after he left the dead body of Tav behind with saying "Oh no, something terrible has happened". Sure Astarion, something…

All of this happens when Astarion still doesn't care for Tav. He reacts with panic when we confront him with the fact that he literally killed us, and just manages to get his expression under control after a few seconds. I mean, just look at him:

'Killed' feels like a strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.

He definitely knows what he's done, and that 'killed' is indeed the right word for it, he is just very very bad at coping with guilt (which is amazingly analysed by thelikesoffinn - definitely read this, you'll understand Astarion so much better after this).

He instantly lays the focus on our codependency again, that we need each other and so on. If we question why we should keep him around, he answers with:

A strong, well-fed vampire? I'm a powerful weapon - you'd be a fool to toss me aside now.

With mentioning this, he wants to make sure that Tav will let him stay by their side and therefore grant him protection.

But more importantly he continues:

Anyway, last night was an aberration. It will never happen again.

He doesn't even start with something like "Next time I'll be more careful" or anything similar. He straight up says that it will never happen again. Period. If we then ask who he will feed on next time he gets hungry, he presents the idea of feeding on villains and bandits "who need killing anyway". And this is exactly what he wants. This even shows in his reaction to Tav's response to his suggestion.

If we agree and therefore allow him to feed on our enemies ("Sounds good. Glad we could agree"), this is how he reacts:

As am I. I'm starting to feel a little peckish already.

This itself doesn't sound all too enthusiastic, but we get his approval up, which definitely shows that he very much likes that Tav agreed.

On the contrary, if we suggest he can feed on Tav, ignoring his will wish to feed on villains ("Look, I'm not against you feeding on me, but only if we talk about it first"), this is his reaction:

Of course! This sounds eminently reasonable.

I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together.

Doesn't sound too bad either, eh? But we don't get his approval. He doesn't disapprove, of course, because this is still a thousand times better than what he had until then, but still not what he really wants…

So, what does all of this mean for the initial question?

Conclusion

The crucial point here is what it means for Astarion to feed on Tav. The only things he remembers since Cazador turned him, are being relentlessly dominated and horrifyingly abused. The things Astarion wants the most are to be safe and to finally have control over himself again.

He bit Tav for the sole purpose of finding out if he can be free of Cazador's rules. So why would he jump right into being dependent on Tav? He suggests to feed on villains, because then he is free of anyone's mercy. He doesn't need to rely on Tav to graciously allow him to get a drop of blood. He can do this himself now.

This is such an important step for his character growth, to find the way to his autonomy again, so if we only allow him to feed on Tav, it instantly sets him back into old habits of bowing to his masters words - or in this case Tav's. Because it's all hes been doing for the last two centuries of his life.

So, as much as the thought of the self-sacrificing offer to be his personal blood bag may seem romantic or whatever, it's actually the exact opposite, trapping Astarion in what he desperately tries to escape from. The restrictions that come with someone dominating him mentally and physically. And as I mentioned earlier, he doesn't believe in the goodness of people. For him every "kind" act has a price and he likes to know what he has to pay, so he wouldn't even want to just drink Tav's blood without Tav getting anything out of it. He would most certainly expect Tav one day to come around with something he doesn't want to give or do, so he wants to control such situations beforehand.

All he wants is to make his own decisions and be free in every way possible…

So please just let him drain some bandits, will ya?

#astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion meta #astarion analysis #sorry for that shitty thumbnail but i couldn't resist

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gejo333 · 17 days ago

Text

Art credit:@clementinekim_(Instagram)

An Unexpected Match XIII

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Summary: Two week honeymoon with your hubby Miguel🥰

I’m sorry this took so long.😅💕💕💕

Pt. 1 Pt.15

Enjoy!💕

Wc: 5k

————————————————————————

The smell of salt, the sound of the Aegean Sea, and the sun's warmth relaxed your entire body. You happily lay on a sun bed in your bikini at your private pool as you read a romance novel Stephanie has been dying for you to read for months. And you were glad to have finally picked up the book because she was right. It was really good.

However, as you flip the page, your relaxed state dissolves as you feel heat grow between your legs. Your eyes peer right over your book as you look at your husband, who is in the jacuzzi resting. His eyes were closed as his arms lay on each side, showing off his perfectly toned biceps. You said you would join him after you read a chapter or two of your book. But after reading that spicy scene and glancing at your husband, you couldn't resist.

For the past four days since you arrived at this 5-star resort in Greece, you and Miguel hadn't left your private cabana. You couldn't keep your hands off each other. You were only pausing briefly to have some sleep or to eat. This was the first time you two had decided to take a relaxing break from being entangled with each other and take in the beautiful view around you. But of course, it's barely been an hour, and you want him to touch and kiss you.

You couldn't sit still anymore as you got up and walked to the jacuzzi. Your foot dipped into the water, sending a warm chill up your spine. The water wrapped around your body as you descended the steps before fully submerging until the water was under your collarbone.

You swim over to Miguel and sit right next to him, tucked under his right arm. Your head rests on his chest as you gaze at the beautiful ocean-front view. His arm behind you comes down and wraps around your waist, and his hand gently caresses your upper thigh.

"Missed me too much, cariño?" He kissed your head. You rolled your eyes as you didn't have to even look at him to see the smirk on his lips.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, "Mhmm, maybe just a little bit." Your lips move down his face to his neck, finding his sweet spot before straddling his lap. His hands find their way to your waist as he pulls you against him.

His fingers glide up your side to your neck as he lifts your chin. Your lips meet his as you open your mouth to let his tongue wander.

Your hips move against his crotch, making his grip on your waist tighten as he grinds his clothed erection, making you moan against his lips. Your arms feel up his toned tan abs as they go around his neck, and your fingers comb through his dark curls. Miguel's hands grab your ass as he stands up in the jacuzzi, making his way out and back inside your luxury cabana.

Your body hits the soft duvet as Miguel's lips move down your neck, "So beautiful and all mine. Isn't that right, cariño?" His voice rumbled against your skin as his lips continued to your chest, moving your bathing suit as his mouth latched to your nipple, making your grip on his hair stronger as the sensation of his mouth went straight down south to your core.

"Y-yes." You breathed out.

While his mouth and hand worked on your breasts, you felt his other hand feel its way down your stomach to your bottoms as he pulled the bows on one side, which was keeping them from falling off, now thrown across the room, leaving you fully exposed.

You arch your back as you feel his thumb rubbing your clit as he enters, not one but two fingers thrust inside you. Your grip tightens in his curls as you feel his teeth bite your nipple, sending a whirlwind of pleasure through your body. Miguel's lips kissed from the top of your breast to the collarbone and the crook of your neck, leaving marks.

"M-Miguel, please don't give me hickeys. You know I don't like them." Your husband's lips nipped your ear before he smirked at you, kissing your lips.

"No promises cariño." He purred in your ear, which made you send him a glare as you tried to hide your smile, which only made him chuckle as he removed his fingers from you, grabbed your hips, and inserted himself fully inside you, letting a gasp escape you, taking you by surprise.

Miguel grabs your waist as he lifts you onto his lap, making you moan out loud as his cock enters deeper inside you as he bounces you up and down his shaft.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you claw his upper back every time his tip hits your cervix, making you dig your nails deeper, which further ignites his desire to keep fucking you harder, ending up in an erotic cycle you both didn't mind being in.

...

The bed was soaked in sweat, and both of your pleasure as your head hung back, feeling overstimulated. Miguel sucked on your now bruised neck as he continued to thrust up into you. If it weren't for Miguel holding you in place, you would have collapsed to the bed as he fucks you stupid.

You let out a raspy moan, feeling the high from God's know which orgasm you lost count a while ago. Your throat was tired from the amount of screaming you'd done the past couple of hours.

"Last one, mi amor. I promise." Miguel kissed your sweaty temple. Your last orgasm unraveled by him as he spilled deep inside you. He collapsed his back down on the bed with you falling and resting on top of his chest with him still inside you.

"You think you got me pregnant yet?" You chuckled as you looked at him with a loving smile before getting off him. You were too sore to move to the bathroom to clean up, so you decided to wait till tomorrow.

You pushed back the sheets and duvet as you rested your head on your pillow. Miguel sat up from his position and let out a deep chuckle at your comment. He moved towards you and said, "Well, with how many times we have done it these past few days, I wouldn't be surprised, but..."

"But?" Your smile widens as he hovers over you.

"But maybe we should try again just to make sure," Miguel smirked as he took your chin and kissed you before covering you both with the sheets.

...

You lather your arm in soap and gently wash yourself in the tub. After taking a shower to properly clean up all the sweat and other liquids covering you, you took a relaxing bath to soothe your sore body as Miguel was surprisingly still asleep. You smiled; your husband needed the rest. Not just with the amount of fucking you both have been doing or from the slight jet lag, but he works so hard every day as an incredible CEO and a loving father and now husband. So you didn't mind him getting the extra rest.

When the water in the tub grew cold, you got out and wrapped a towel around your body as you looked into the vanity mirror. You huffed out a breath of annoyance as you noticed the trail of hickeys all over your neck and chest. You noticed the trail continued down your body when you slightly moved your towel.

"That man is going to get it for marking me up."

"What am I going to get?" Miguel chuckled as he walked into the master bath only in his boxers. You turned around to face him as he stood right before you. You purse your lips into a pout as you point to the hickies on your neck. Your frown deepens as you only see a smirk on his face, proud of his work.

"Smug bastard." You mumble as you turn around again to face the mirror and figure out how to cover these marks. Miguel's hands were at your hips in an instant as he pressed his crotch against your backside.

"Well, this bastard wants to have a taste of his wife." Miguel kissed up your neck, sending a shiver up your spine.

"I don't think you deserve a taste of me." You cross your arms as you move your face so that his lips miss yours, which sends a curious eyebrow arch and light glare your way from your husband.

"Well, cariño, if my tongue can't have you, then I know something else that can." Miguel lifted your towel and spread your legs as you let a breathy moan as you felt him enter his cock inside your wet folds from behind.

"Miguel." You growled out in warning. "I was hoping we go out...go out...and explore."

Miguel breathed in your hair as he turned your chin to face him. His lips met yours as he began thrusting himself inside you, making you lean over the bathroom counter.

"Of course we can, mi amor. But let's finish this round, and we'll get ready."

You huff in annoyance, knowing this wouldn't be the only session, especially since he just woke up. Of course, you're not complaining about the surge of pleasure coursing through your entire body, but he's going to regret marking up your neck.

Damn, maybe you shouldn't have let him sleep in. The amount of vigor he sends through each thrust hurts slightly as his tip consistently slams against your cervix. But it only added to the overall pleasure. One of his hands went to your lower abdomen as he pressed his palm against you, feeling himself move inside you and making him rougher with his movements.

The doorbell rang, followed by a woman calling behind the main door, "Housekeeping!"

"Puta madre," Miguel growled as he picked up his pace to see to your climax. After hearing your sweet moans come out seconds later, he pulled out and put himself back in his boxers, ready to confront the people at the door. (Son of a Bitch)

Despite your legs feeling like jelly from only one round, you stood up and placed your hand on his chest, stopping his movements. "I think I should go answer the door." You smile as you go on your toes and peck his lips before you leave and grab your robe to cover yourself.

The doorbell goes off again. You quickly get to the door before the housekeeper opens it.

"Hi, sorry for the wait." You brushed your hair behind one of your ears, a nervous habit.

Standing before you was an older woman and a woman near your age. The older woman's eyes widen as she notices the hickey on your neck. You move your hair to cover them as a blush falls on your cheeks.

"Good morning, Mrs. O'Hara. We hope you and Mr. O'Hara have been enjoying your time here. Would you like us to clean the house?" The older woman spoke with a warm smile.

"That would be amazing. We were planning on heading out in 30 minutes. Is it ok to come back around then?"

"Of course, Mrs. O'Hara. Is there anything else you need?" The other woman spoke.

"No, nothing else. Thank you. Have a nice day."

"Thank you. You too."

You smile before closing the door and return to where Miguel sat on the bed, getting rid of his morning wood. You made your way to him as you got on your knees.

You gave him a few strokes from your hand that couldn't even fully wrap around his massive shaft. You dragged your tongue up his member before kissing his leaking tip, your gaze not leaving him once. You open your mouth for him to slide onto your tongue and down your throat.

"Fuck, I love you and that pretty mouth of yours." Miguel moaned out as his hand reached the back of your head. His fingers intertwined into your hair as he gently thrusts into your throat. You hum in approval against his cock, earning another groan from Miguel's lips.

Miguel gently thrusts more of himself into your mouth; being used to his size in your throat, you were able to stop from gagging as you continued to move your tongue along his cock. You make sure your tongue grazes over the vein on the underside of his member, sending a large amount of pleasure through him.

Miguel groaned in pleasure as he gently thrust a few more times before spilling into your throat. You happily swallow every drop before removing him from your mouth. You lick anything remaining on your lips as you stand up and kiss his cheek.

After getting ready, you walk out of the cabana hand in hand. You smile up at him as he looks down at you lovingly, stopping briefly to kiss your lips sweetly. You caress his cheek as you look into his red-brown eyes. His hand is placed on top of yours, showing his wedding band.

"I love you." You breathe out.

"I love you more, mi diosa." (my goddess.) He kisses you again before you go to the resort's main building.

You sat on the lounge sofa as you looked at the scattered hotel experience brochures on the table.

"Mi amor." You looked up to see a fork with a piece of your favorite fruit in your face. You were so excited looking at all the excursions and activities you forgot to eat. You smile lovingly before you open your mouth for him to feed it to you.

"Thank you, Miggy."

"Have to look out for you sometimes." He smiles happily down at you as he kisses your cheek. You lean against his chest as you open one of the brochures to show him.

"This one is a catamaran that takes you to these gorgeous caves that boats can go through, or we can jump in and swim. Ooo, snorkeling on a reef sounds fun, too! I wonder which one we should choose..."

Miguel lifted your hand, kissed your wedding ring, and then entangled his fingers with yours. "If you can't decide, let's do both. We're here to enjoy our time together. When we get back, we won't have that much relaxing time since your internship will be starting a month from then. We have an endless amount of funds; let's use it to enjoy ourselves to the fullest."

After an enjoyable breakfast by the crystal turquoise waters and booking all the fun excursions with the concierge, you find the perfect place at the beach to relax under the sun.

You take your sundress off wearing a brand-new white bathing suit. You couldn't help but be a little cheesy. You were on your honeymoon, after all.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt a toned chest against your backside as lips lightly kissed your neck, making you giggle.

"Miggy, you're tickling my neck."

"If I can hear your beautiful laugh, I might just continue."

You turn your head to kiss his lips. You felt his tongue slip through your lips, surprising you as you gently slap his chest, parting your lips from his.

"Miguel, cálmate." You smile as you give him a playful glare, and he smirks. (Calm down.)

"What can I say, Hermosa? I love you so much and can't help but show it."

You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck as you get on your toes and sweetly kiss his lips. "I love you so much, too."

"How about-" he kisses your lips. " I'll go get us-" he kisses the part between your neck and shoulder. "Some drinks."

"Thank you, honey. Love you."

Miguel kissed you on the lips, squeezing your ass and quickly moving away before you could hit him. He only winked at you with a goofy grin before returning to the bar.

"Fuck, she's hot."

"Hey there, cutie."

You were relaxing on the lounge chair, enjoying the sun, when a shadow appeared before you. Opening your eyes, a frown appeared on your lips as you saw two men around your age, or most likely seniors in college, standing in front of you.

"Um, can I help you? You're blocking the sun."

"We were walking on the beach and saw this smoking hot babe in a white bikini, and we thought we would shoot our shot and buy you a drink."

"I'm a married woman. Even if I weren't, I would still say no. So, have a nice day." You sarcastically wave them away. But, of course, these guys were the extra obnoxious douches.

"Oh, come on now. Just one drink. Plus, how do we know you're married? I don't see your husband any-"

"Mi amor, are these men bothering you?" Towering behind the two men was your pissed-off husband.

"Yes, they were."

The men's faces grew pale as they saw a large, well-built man give them a death glare.

"Uh, s-sorry, man. Our bad. We'll get going."

"I think that's wise. This is a private and very exclusive beach that I highly doubt you two are members of. Please don't make me catch you bothering my wife or anyone else again. Got it?"

"Y-yes." The two men quickly walked away.

You stood up from your chair, hugged his waist, and kissed his cheek. "My hero."

Miguel smiled lovingly at you as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He sat on his chair, his beer in one hand and another arm around your waist. You sat between his legs, resting your back against his chest, stealing kisses from each other occasionally.

After lounging at the beach all day, you return to the luxury cabana you've been staying in.

When you finally returned, you immediately plopped onto the bed, closing your eyes.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you were startled when you felt arms lift you from the bed bridal style. You headed out to the outdoor terrace, facing the gorgeous view of the ocean. Your gaze landed on the table beautifully set up with food, wine, and candles, giving natural light.

"This is beautiful, Miguel. What's the occasion?" Miguel sat you in one of the chairs before sitting beside you.

"No occasion. I know you wanted to explore more today, but I just wanted to have dinner with the two of us."

You leave your seat and walk to his side of the table. Miguel happily moves his chair out so you can sit on his lap. "I don't mind if it's just you and me. Not one bit."

A giggle leaves your lips as Miguel kisses your neck and the top of your chest. You grabbed a fork, picked up a piece of food, and fed it to him.

"Is it delicious?"

"It is. But I've had more delicious things." Miguel took the fork from your hand and set it on the table. You scrunch your brows, wondering what could be better than a 6-star dish.

"And what could that be?" You chuckle.

Miguel kissed your neck up to your ear as he whispered, " You." Lifting your bridal style in his arms, he kissed your lips in a heated, loving manner as he led you inside towards the bedroom.

———-

After another long night of passionate lovemaking, you wake up to another lovely morning with an ocean view. You turn in bed to find it empty. Frowning slightly from the lack of extra warmth, you leave the bed and head to the walk-in closet. After putting on some panties, pajama shorts, and one of Miguel's T-shirts, you walk towards the living area. However, you find it empty. You then hear your husband's laughter echo outside from the deck.

You smile as you walk outside and see him on FaceTime with your daughter. Walking up to sit next to him on the sofa, he smiles lovingly at you and kisses your cheek, saying, "Good morning, mi amor."

"Mama!"

"Baby bug! I've missed you!!"

"I've missed you too, Mama! When are you and Papa coming home?"

"A little over a week until we come back home," Miguel answered, and Gabi's lips turned into a pout as tears began to form from the corner of her eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. It's going to be ok. We'll be back in a flash." Tears threatened to spill from your own eyes as it broke your heart to see your daughter sad and missing you and Miguel.

"Gabi, remember what I told you?" Gabriel spoke up as he wiped her tears away.

She rubbed her eyes as she shyly shook her head.

"Mama and Papa have to go on a long journey because they need to talk to a magical waterfall to ask for a baby so you can have a brother and sister."

You tried so hard to keep a straight face. Out of all the ways to explain how children are made, he says this? You sighed, and a smile graced your lips. Gabi's pout turned into her adorable smile as she believed her uncle's story.

"Papa! Mama! Can I have a little sister, please!"

"Sadly we can't decide princesa. Only the magical waterfall can." Miguel told her, joining in on the story.

"Oh, ok."

"Baby bug, if you have a little brother or sister, I bet they would love to hang out and play with you no matter what." Your words kept a smile on her face.

"Alright, Gabi. We have to get you to your play date," Gabriel said, to your daughter's disappointment.

"But I want to talk to Mama and Papa more."

"It's ok, princesa. You can talk to us when you finish your play date."

"Promise."

"We promise. We love you, baby bug." You blow her a kiss, which she does back as she says she loves you both before hanging up the phone.

Miguel puts your legs on his lap before pulling you closer to him. He leans over and kisses you, which you happily reciprocate. The kiss leads to a heated make-out session, distracting you both until you hear an alarm from Miguelon 's phone, indicating it is time to head over to the dock for the catamaran.

After getting properly dressed, you head to the pick-up destination. The catamaran wasn't private, as none were available, so you and Miguel would be sharing it with three other couples.

When the boat arrives, you stare in awe at its beauty. Feeling Miguel's hand on your lower backside brings you back to reality as you walk on the catamaran.

You both found the perfect place to sit and relax in the sun together.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome! We will be arriving at the caves in 30 minutes. Please feel free to enjoy the open bar while you relax."

"Do you want me to get you a beer?"

"That would be amazing, Hermosa. Thank you." Miguel pulled you close and quickly kissed your lips before you went to the bar to get the drinks.

As you were waiting for the drinks, your gaze lazily wandered. Suddenly, you noticed a man checking you out. He winked at you, but you scoffed and rolled your eyes. Luckily, his girlfriend saw it, and you smiled when you heard a smack. Thanking the bartender, you walked back to your husband with the drinks.

"Here you go, honey." You pass him his favorite beer.

"Thank you, mi amor." Miguel kissed your cheek before taking a sip of his beer.

"Oh! I want to get a photo of us before we enter the water."

Miguel smiled as he grabbed your waist and brought you to sit between his legs, letting your back rest against his chest. You raised the phone to take a photo, with Miguel stealing a kiss or two between photos, which made you giggle, urging him to stop the PDA. He whispered into your ear, " Then I'll just have to make up for the time showing you how much I love you back in the bedroom." This sent a nice chill up your spine.

"Hey! Would you like me to photograph the two of you?" A redheaded woman around your age with a warm smile approached the two of you.

"That you be amazing. Thank you." You hand her your phone. She happily takes a few photos, which turn out to be amazing. You need to put one in a frame.

"Thank you. Would you like me to take one for you?" You offered.

"That would be amazing. Let me get my fiancé." The woman leaves before returning with a man. Your eyes widen when the familiar, slightly older face awkwardly smiles back at you.

"This is Matt. My fiancé. I'm Chelsea, by the way."

Who would have thought that the guy Miguel stole you away at the bar that night years ago would be right in front of you?

"It's been a while, hasn't it." Matt chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It has. About that night. Apologies for stealing her." Miguel chuckled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him.

"No worries, man. All good. Plus, if I didn't leave when I did that morning after bumping into the both of you, I never would have bumped into the love of my life in the elevator." Matt brought Chelsea close and kissed her cheek.

"I could say the same thing about finding my true love." Miguel looked at you with a loving gaze. If he could, he would give you the entire universe.

"What brings you here?" You asked.

"Matt popped the question to me yesterday. So we decided to go on this catamaran to celebrate. What about you?" Chelsea asked.

"It's our honeymoon. We got married last week."

"Congratulations! Hope you've been having fun here."

"We have." Miguel looks at you, your cheeks tinted pink, as you notice the lustful cloud over his eyes.

You talked more with Chelsea as you waited for the boat to reach its destination. As soon as your skin became too warm under the sun, you sighed in relief when the captain announced your arrival.

When you were allowed to get into the water, you didn't hesitate. You went in, followed by Miguel. Since the water was very salty, it was easy to float. You swam up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his lips, and placing his hands on your hips as he brought you closer.

"Ready to explore?" You ask as your lips separate from his.

"You or the caves?" he chuckled. You lightly slapped his chest, trying to hide your smile but failing.

As you swim to one of the caves, the water becomes shallow enough for Miguel to stand. When you arrive at the cave, you pass through a sheet of water flowing over the entrance. You swim in first, followed by Miguel.

Your eyes widen at the cave's beauty, with the blue water and natural light coming into the cave, reflecting a beautiful blue on the walls. As you continued deeper into the cave, you could finally stand.

A breath shuttered out of your chest as you felt Miguel pressed up against you. His fingers brushed against your neck as you pushed your hair to the side as he kissed your neck. You smiled as you leaned into his touch.

"Miguel, we shouldn't. Someone might see." You giggle as his lips lightly tickle your neck.

"Cariño, there are multiple caves. And the couples who decided to go for a swim went to different caves, for what I'm assuming the same reason for what we're about to do."

"You'll say anything to get into my pants." You smiled as you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Can you blame me?" He chuckled as he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he kissed your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His tongue is in your mouth as the make-out session grows more heated.

Miguel moved you towards a ledge. As he lies you down on the smooth rock surface, he brings you closer, head between your thighs. His hands go to the side of your thighs as he slides the bottoms of your bathing suit off.

Your slight, worried glance made him chuckle as he wrapped your bottoms around his wrist so they wouldn't get swept away by the water.

"You only have 30 minutes." You chuckle out a breath as he lifts your legs to his shoulders.

"I'll make sure to make it count."

You let a small moan escape from you as his teeth nip your inner thighs before placing his lips on your clit. Your fingers intertwine in his hair as his lips and tongue savored every part of you.

---

Your body was shaking after coming down from your fifth orgasm from your husband's mouth. A warm chill went up your spine as his tongue moved from your clit to your stomach, breasts, and neck, then captured your lips with his.

Another moan escaped from you as you felt him push himself inside you, still able to stretch you no matter how many times he's fucked you.

After having more fun in the cave, you enjoy the rest of your time on the catamaran, drinking and enjoying the ocean view.

It was now nighttime, and after taking a shower to wash off, you decided to cuddle in bed together and watch a show.

Resting your head against his chest, his arm wrapped around you, holding you close as your legs intertwined with his to keep your feet warm.

"I'm sad this honeymoon dream we're in will end in a week. But it also means the start of a new chapter in our lives, which I'm excited for."

Miguel looks at you with a loving smile as he brushes some of your hair behind your ear. "Every day with you is my dream. I love you, cariño."

"I love you more." You lean up and kiss him. He cups your cheek as his thumb grazes over it.

"I love you more than the universe and will for eternity."

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Two more to go!🥰

Tag List

@felixthemochicat @pedr0swh0r3 @thel0velykey190 @myownsimp @angel-xx-1 @thedevax @cheezit-luv3rr @comicalbliss @rjreins @incustellar @ricekrisbris @marvelofcourse @ozzmodeus-main @s0fia4 @ghost-lantern @minalovesubabes @yume904 @shinyberry69 @freehentaigif-blog-blog @livytofine @rjasmine2021 @bigbassbug @tired-writer04 @brokvnszn @isastarall @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @cold-blooded-girls @ewan-tef @bammzyboomy @icedcoffeeisyummy @scaleniusrm @jojos-wife @jakelockleysdoll @iheartlindsay @koteri @montyrokz @crimsonriot06-7 @p1nkliquor @pueduricany @l3lazeit @freeingrebels @facelessfionna @zoey5252 @jaxyy219 @pookiesnatcher @deputy-videogamer @migueloharastruelove @gr0vndz3ro @n1tingal3 @casuallyawkardd @heubstr @kingtwhiddleston @princesatracionera @m0stergirl @mcmiracles @keigoloveminty @jadeloverxd @veyveys @averagefloydlover @katitakenway @uusjsisj @tojishugetiddies @serpentineaerodynamics @laufftuhh @ngyhloan @uncle-eggy @nightingale1011 @pigeonmama @what-the-jams @huniedeux @ak1ji

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel x reader #oneshot #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x y/n #oneshot requests #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel smut #miguel fanart #miguel o’hara x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel fanfic

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miistersunshin3 · 3 months ago

Note

HIHI no clue if your requests r open but OMG I LOVED UR SAL X MEANGIRL!READER SMM 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ IS THERE A CHANCE WE CLD GET MOREE? 🫶🫶 🍰

Star struck pt. 2 ☆

Sal Fisher x meangirl!reader

a/n : part two yippeeee!! And yes my request are open so feel free to send more *\(^o^)/*

Enjoy!

-...he just couldn't keep staring as you slowly walked away, your hair swaying perfectly with each and every step, did you really just say that to him? it couldn't be, right? he must be dreaming

"sal, dude.. Sal! cmon bro we're gonna be late again, lets go" Larry said slightly annoyed, not having quite witnessed what just happened a few seconds ago.

Sal, having finally just snapped out of the trance you put him in, turned back around to face him and then coming at him with a little sarcastic

"pfft as if you care, weren't you the one that skipped first period today?"

"yeah yeah, lets just go now"

-needless to say you had that boy Star Struck (hihi see what I did there ^_−☆)

-even in the afternoon when the group hung out together, he just couldn't get his mind off of you and that stupid thing you said. Yet he was too nervous to tell his friends, knowing they were opposed to the idea of him liking.

-his friends, of course noticed his behavior, but decided to not comment on it thinking it was probably just him getting into his own head again.

.............................................................………………………

-at night, when everyone was fast asleep, he still caught himself thinking about you. you. you. you. and bless his poor soul, he just couldn't stop.

-with his mask off and his face in his pillow curling up in his bed, the duvet softly covering his body and hair falling freely, he couldn't help but wonder about your reaction to him without the mask. his face, his scarred broken then patched together again face, as he not so much liked to think about it.

-and god you were right, he's just so pathetic: laying in his bed thinking of you while a tear slowly makes its way down the less scarred side of his face. you and your friends make fun of him every day and yet he still feels so deeply connected to you, wanting you to hold him, to love him.

-once he does fall asleep, you even manage to follow him in his dreams: laying side by side together on his bed, with your arms around him and his head on your chest, he didn't have that uncomfortable border between the two of you, just his bare face touching the soft fabric of your shirt. your soft voice in his ears "you know Sal, for me you are truly the prettiest thing" it was like heaven...

-friday, the ninth of august, 06:45. is what the alarm clock read as he softly stirred awake despite not wanting to wake up from his dream. finally after so many nights of restless sleep, he had an actually dream, not one of those nightmares people would also only describe as dreams.

...................................................................…………………

-between periods, as Sal and Ash were making their way to art class, one of the few classes they share, they hear slight laughter and rambling behind them, knowing who it is by the obvious smell of perfume you always use. god it made him crazy.

-his thoughts were quickly disrupted by an obnoxious voice

"hey, you. yeah I'm talking to you blue hair and pigtails, you enjoy being a walking joke?" one of your friends snared.

"no wonder you only hang out with other weirdos, how about you all go back to the freak show your supposed to run?" another one joked making you laugh harder than you should have.

"oh yeah, you'd be the main attraction" you cockily say as you walk past him still smiling.

"fuckin' weirdos" the first one say as she purposefully bumps into Ashley while walking by.

-gosh why did you have to be so mean... and beautiful at the same time

....................................................................…………………

-its not that you hated Sal.. you didn't even dislike him. its just that... he's just so fun to mess with, I mean cmon he's the perfect target, mask and everything. you still weren't quite fond of his friends tho, but they were also okay.

-you did feel bad sometimes after saying something to him, even if he wouldn't react, your first thought with him was always 'did I take it to far now?' which was weird since you've never thought that when you'd do the same things with other people.

-but the sight you were going to witness in a few minutes was unbelievable to you..

..................................................................……………………

-this was truly the worst thing that could happen to him, he was defenseless. so vulnerable, so miserable, so pathetic.

-two of your male 'friends' had caught him alone in one of the storage rooms of the art classroom and decided they wanted to find out what lies under that mask of his.

-with one of them trying to take his prosthetic off and the other holding his hands so he couldn't defend himself even if he tried, he was done for... or so he thought.

-the creek of the door halted their movement only to reveal you, looking as beautiful as ever yet you had a bewildered looking on your face from seeing the scene in front of you.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" you say as you look the one wanting to take his mask in the eyes.

"oh cmon, we were just having some fun here, no need to ruin it" the other one spits.

"this is what you call fun? that's pretty sad if you ask me, I mean I get the verbal stuff but don't you think this is a bit too much?" you snap back.

"why the fuck are you defending him right now? he's fucking pathetic look at him" "and...? you know what I think, I think you're being just as if not more pathetic than he is right now, you are nothing (friends names), without me most people in this school probably wouldn't know you so shut it. and don't you dare tell anyone what happened here" you snarl.

"oh and what if we do tell, what are you gonna do, huh? tell your mommy? or the principal?" your other friend says in a fake whiny tone.

"I know what you did to that girl, you know she really did love you so much (friend name 1) it would be a shame if everyone knew that you're a lying cheating skank and not that you guys just broke up normally and oh (friend name 2) I didn't know you had room to talk when literally all you do is hook up with Mrs. Miller every Friday, do you wanna get kicked out of school, I don't think so. and trust me, once I confirm the rumors its over for you"

“You’re no fun” one of them says as they leave.

- silence. pure silence and you decide to break it.

“You okay?” You ask in a genuine tone. He takes a moment to reply speaking with a stutter “yeah, all good”

“Don’t worry I didn’t see anything” referring to his face, you cross your arms and lean against the door frame, he looks down at the ground in shame, his hands slightly shaking.

"do I make you nervous Sal?" you ask teasingly and after that you chuckle slightly as he's frozen in place "its okay, I get it"

a few moments pass when he finally has the courage to look at you again, god why was he like this when he was around you. "you owe me, big time" "yeah" he finally answers "what do you need?" he asks in a slightly nervous voice, he cannot talk to girls for the life of him (look at his first encounter with Ash in the game (=´∀｀))

you start to think, what do you need..? he then speaks again "I'll get you anything you want" nervousness still ringing in his voice "woah, don't get to ahead of yourself weirdo" you tease.

as you slowly leave the room you say "I'll think of something, sweetheart" you send him a quick smile while leaving and not to forget that wink you shot him once before.

-meanwhile he thinks he’s died because of that nickname, but don’t worry your smile brought him back to life, you just really know how to make his heart flutter. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

..................................................................……………………

a/n : I hope you guys enjoyed(≧∀≦) if you have any wishes feel free to send me requests!! (P.s I love bullying Sal hihi)

#sally face #sal fisher #sally face x y/n #sally face x you #sally face x reader #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x you #sal fisher x reader #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #larry johnson #ashley campbell #todd morrison #mean girls

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lovelynicho · 6 months ago

Text

&team as - romantic tropes

Pairing: &team x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: reader is bisexual in Jo's

Note: english is not my first language, I apologise for any mistakes

Masterlist

Enemies to lovers

Since you started art college you were sure of only one thing. You hated him. You hated that he was always praised for his dancing, and you weren't even noticed. You hated the smug smile on his face whenever he was called the best in your year. And you were sure the feeling was mutual. Because why else would he purposefully embarass you infront of others. Why else would he go straight to you whenever he did better than you in anything. You were sure you hated him. You are not too sure anymore tho. That smug smile of his starts to seem more and more pretty each day you look at him. The way he dances makes your lips part a little and the air stuck in your lungs. And the moments he would use to embarass you fade into flirting with each other in a teasing way. And now you're confused why you feel butterflies in your stomach every time you see him.

Fuma

Love at first sight

He was on his way to practice from a coffee shop. Four coffee to go in his hands for him and three of his group mates. He just took a look at his phone to see the time but when he looked back he saw a cute dog looking up at him with big eyes. He couldn't help but smile at the pet. And then he heard a voice, it was you calling for your pet. "I'm sorry, he just loves the smell of coffee" you said as you gave him a small smile. He just stared at you, his lips barely parted in amusement. You were beautiful. The way your lips curled up at both ends, the way your eyes shined when you looked at your dog and the way you said a quiet "bye" after you put the leash on your dog to walk him away. "Have a nice day" he said to you, a little louder than needed, after you already turned around. "You too" you gave him a last smile and walked away. And he just stood there for a good minute, trying to process what just happened. And he's still hoping to see you again, and maybe ask you out.

Nicholas

Fake dating

Why did you get into a fake relationship in the first place? Well, your ex was a real freak, he kept stalking you even after you broke up with him. You needed someone to scare him away. And what did Nicholas win from that? Mostly free food every time you hang out at your place, and a reason to leave his house. But after a while it all just started to feel too real. All your friends knew him as your boyfriend and all his friends knew you as his partner, and they treated you as such. And you started to feel like you want it to be real. Every time he got too close you felt butterflies in your stomach. So you decided that it was time for you to break up this fake relationship. He came over for a 'date', and you two were just eating together when you mentioned that you should end this lie. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked, he even seemed a little offended. "I mean, my ex is not bothering me anymore and you were just here for the free food anyways, it's not a big deal for you" you said, avoiding eye contact. Then you felt a hand under your chin, he made you look at him. "You really think I only did this for the free food?"

Soulmates

All of his friends already found their soulmates. It was annoying, seeing all the couples being so happy and so in love and so.....perfect. He wanted that too. He started to look for his soulmate, looking at everyone he randomly met. A little creepy? Maybe, but he was desperate. But you can imagine the happiness he felt when he found you. It was your first work day at a cafe as a barista. When he entered he looked around but then he just looked down at his phone. When he got infront of you, at first he didn't look up just started to tell you his order. "Hi, I would like to have a-" and that's when he saw you. He looked straight into your eyes and you looked up at his. They were sparkling, just like how he thought it would be when he found his soulmate. "Hi.... When does your shift end? We could talk"

Yuma

Coworkers to lovers

You worked in the same office. Your desks were next to each other's. At first you didn't talk much, only about work. But at a company party you had a really good talk after a few cups of champagne. Since then, you became more comfortable with each other. When you had a long day he passed you little doodles on sticky notes. You helped him whenever he needed help and he did the same to you. You started to hang out together with other colleagues, and he always, every single time, drove you home. And sometimes you just sat in the car for another hour talking about everything and nothing. One day, you had a particularly long day, you felt tired from looking at the monitor for such long hours. You heard a whisper from your right and you saw Yuma holding out his hand, a pink little paper in it. You already smiled. He smiled at you too. You always thought his smile looked beautiful, especially when he smiled with his eyes. You took the sticky note from his hand and looked at it. This time it wasn't a doodle, but a question written with his beautiful handwriting. "Date tonight?" You looked at him to see him wink at you. You gave him a nod while smiling brightly.

Childhood friends to lovers

You've known each other since day one. He was always there for you. When your biggest problem was to get good grades, when you were first asked out, through your sexuality crisis and when you came out as bisexual. He was there for you. And he's still there and you can't decide if him being your friend is enough. Once you were at his place, watching a movie you've seen a hundred times. You felt yourself getting tired, so you dropped your head on Jo's shoulder. This was a common habit of yours but now something was different. You felt your face blushing when he wrapped his arm around you. He looked down at you making eye contact. His ears got red like a tomato and he looked away. You wondered if he was feeling a similar confusion to yours. He was. He couldn't stop thinking about how your lips would feel against his, but he was too shy to ask for a kiss.

Harua

Grumpy x sunshine

People always say you have no feelings. You seem so cold, even when you're with your friends. They didn't even expect you getting close to Harua. He's such a smiley guy, a literal sunshine. Wherever he goes he brights up the room, always putting a smile on everyone's face. But you actually got along pretty well. Mostly because you liked the same series. So one day you two were at your place watching another part of the series you both enjoy so much. When the episode ends Harua started to imitate one of the characters and you just couldn't stop your lips from forming a bright smile on your face, a smile you barely show to anyone. And when Harua saw that beautiful smile of yours he was mesmerised. From that moment he decided, he wants to know you like no one else does, he wants to be the one who makes you smile like no one else does.

Taki

Best friend's brother

Your friend always complained about how annoying and loud he is. You were supposed to think that too but honestly, you always thought he was kinda cute. The way he playfully joked with your best friend and with you too whenever you came over. Once when you were at your friend's house, they went out to buy some snacks for the both of you. While they were gone Taki came into their room where you were scrolling on your phone. "What, you got dumped?" he asked playfully. "Very funny" you answered nonchalantly. "They just went out for some snacks". "And they didn't even ask me if I want anything" he said, playing the offended sibling too hard. "Why would they" you laughed. Then you were just looking at each other. When he realised that he might be staring for a little too long he cleared his throat and started to go out of the room, but he stopped in the door and looked back at you. "If you were on a date with me, I wouldn't leave you alone for a minute" and with that he left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Maki

Secret relationship

Let's face the truth, it's hard to be an idol. The diet, the intense practices are already hard but idols can't even date without the fans getting mad at them. Maybe if it's a secret. You guys are in the beginning of your relationship, you've been together for barely more than one month. It's hard hiding everything from his managers and even his members, but it's not impossible. One day you visited them on a shooting. It's not uncommon, you know the members for a long time and with some of your other friends you often visit them. You were on your way back to the shooting from the bathroom and you saw Maki running towards you with a giant smile on his face. He kissed you without a word. After a minute you broke apart. "I hate not being able to kiss you whenever I want to" he whispered. "Yeah, me too" you answered in a sad tone. It is hard to hide a relationship, but not impossible if you love each other enough.

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holy-reference-in-a-username · 26 days ago

Text

if you have paid any attention to my ramblings on my process, you know that i tend to rethink my comics and toss out a lot of work if im not satisfied with how it turned out. so i thought id share some previews of comics that have gone unseen, and why they havent been posted (yet?) in order of how likely i am to finish and/or post them :)

(under cut bc long post)

Be nice to each other: Main 4. Tomtord/Polyworld, angst. 4 pages. Matt confronts Tom and Tord on how have been acting, accidentally compelling them into saying how they really feel.

Status: abandoned.

I drew this one quite a while ago and i still really like the dialogue and character interactions i wrote for it! vampire hypnosis is a super cool concept and im definitely going to use it in the future, but this ultimately didnt pan out how i wanted it to.

Why it's not posted: while the buildup and climax are really good, this would be a huge mess to clean up. this would require some serious work both between the four of them and on my part for writing and drawing all of that!! plus, it would totally change the relationship dynamic between Tom and Tord, possibly ending it altogether (and i still have so much i want to do with them!!!)

Ed and Edd: Eduardo, Edd, Eduardo's mother. No pairings, angst. 3 pages. Eduardo can't wait to introduce himself at school, but he's got competition for the name he chose.

Status: abandoned.

Trans Eduardo is such a good concept. imagine figuring out who you are only to find out someone else already is that. of course you're going to hate them.

Why it's not posted: two main reasons. one is that i couldn't figure out how to end the comic (a recurring theme lol), but another is that i'm still not super confident with writing Eduardo yet. ...or writing children. so kid Eduardo is a challenge.

Can't tell where you're looking: Tommatt, fluff. 3 pages. Tom isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is.

Status: on my list!

Tommatt fans, i have heard your pleas i have received your asks. it's on my list.

Why it's not posted: i had a great idea, drew several pages, thought about it, and decided it sucked, actually. it can be reworked, but my motivation did not get out unscathed.

Bad (?) Dream: Tomtord, uh.... yeah thats just smut huh. 2 pages. A bad dream for one and a good dream for the other.

Status: ???

I'm not saying SHIT.

Why it's not posted: originally, it was because i didn't want to post suggestive stuff on this blog. now, it's because i found better ways to cover the concepts in this comic. Y'all will simply have to wait and see ;)

Matt figures it out: Matt, Tom. could be Tommatt. hurt/comfort. a collection of random sketches. Matt figures out how to turn into a bat! It sucks!

Status: on my list!

I've been wanting to talk about this SOOOO BAD!!! because why would you transform in a second via a poof of smoke when it could be an hour-long painful disturbing process?! honestly could be described as hurt/comfort/hurt.

Why it isn't posted: well for one it barely counts as a comic, just random sketches and a general idea. to be fair thats how most of my comics start, but... you know. i havent worked on it in a while mainly because the characters need to solve some personal problems first.

Not tonight: Tordmatt. fluff/suggestive. 2 pages. Matt's got pointy ears again, and Tord knows what that means!

Status: on my list!

TORDMATT FANS I HAVE ALSO HEARD YOUR PLEAS! Also, yippee i get to infodump about my headcanons via a comic

Why it's not posted: unfinished, and i hit a bit of a road block. usually its in writing, but this time its in the art half! so i have no idea how to get around it yet!!!

Puberty sucks fr. imagine losing an eye: Tom, Tom's mother. no pairings. angst. 3 pages. When did Tom's eyes change?

Status: on my list!

You all remember the soul-crushing existential grief that started at the same time as puberty, right? No, just me? Huh.

Why it isn't posted: layout isn't quite what im looking for :/ also, a half-naked child on tumblr, even in a completely non-sexual context, is something i am slightly apprehensive about!

Something's wrong: Main 4. Polyworld, angst/suggestive. 20+ pages. Tom doesn't feel well. Edd, Matt, and Tord try to help.

Status: actively working on it

Oh, you guys remember that poll? Haha thats funny. Yeah i'm still working on this one.

Why it isn't posted: uh its not done yet. and also i am unsure of whether or not it will be allowed on tumblr. or whether or not i want people to speculate on my entire deal.

...and while i'm here:

Communication comic part 6: IN PROGRESS!! these idiots need to establish boundaries. all of them. i believe <3

Zombie Tord part 4: ON MY LIST! i want to get through the communication comic first :3

thank u for reading all my ramblings :D! i am so fucking excited to continue working on all of my dumb shit and i am so happy that ppl like said dumb shit

#i say shit #progress update #not gonna tag the general fandom stuff #enjoy my rambles

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jarofstyles · 10 months ago

Text

Sugar, Sugar 12

Here they are, finally. With the smut <3 I know you've been asking about it so here she is!

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings

Series masterlist

WC-5.4k

Warnings- body issues, past trauma, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, y'all know the drillll.

----

Y/N felt like she was going to pass out.

The room was dimly lit by one small lamp on the bedside table. The walls were painted a soft shade of blue, and the curtains were drawn closed, shutting out the world beyond. Y/N laid on the bed, fidgeting with the sheets, her heart racing with anticipation. She couldn't believe she was finally here, that this was finally happening after all the teasing and workup to this sort of thing.

She had agonized over what to wear to bed, finally settling on an oversized tee shirt much more suited for her. It was a Queen tour tee shirt, a soft cream color and buttery smooth. One of her favorites to wear to sleep. Being bold, she had decided on no shorts and simply a pair of black lace panties. How long would they even stay on? She had no clue. Not if Harry had anything to do with it. All she knew was that she had been the most prepared she could be. Sneaking into his bathroom, she had spread coconut body lotion on her skin to get her as smooth as possible, taking her hair down from the half assed updo she had done, spritzing herself with body spray and brushing her teeth twice. Overkill, perhaps, but she wanted to be good. To be what he had been anticipating.

Staring up at the ceiling. She fidgeted nervously, feeling a bit out of place in his room. Harry had ordered her to his room while he finished cleaning the kitchen, dangerously leaving her alone with her thoughts. As sexy as it was that the man could clean up after herself (And bare minimum), she knew that should could only last so long before she went crazy.

As she waited, she couldn't help but start to notice all the little details about his room. The closet door was closed, a tv hanging over one of his dressers that mirrored the end of the bed. A full size mirror stood in the corner- which she had covered with a blanket. She’d have to talk to him about mirrors and portaling later. He had a few pieces of art, some little sculptures, paintings on the walls of varying sizes to make a little gallery. What had surprised her was his basket of sunglasses on the previously mentioned dresser. Soft cream, it held an almost overflowing amount of sunglasses which had confused her. She had really only seen him wear 1 or 2 pairs of them. Maybe she could snoop later. There was still so much to know about him, so much to learn. All she craved was getting closer to him. Emotionally, mentally, physically.

God, she was crawling out of her skin. She wanted his touch so badly that she knew that the moment he touched her tonight that she would be wet. They’d behaved for the most part, Y/N pretending to ignore Harry’s eye fucking because she was still hyping herself up. There was no turning back now. She let out a sigh, feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. She and Harry had been dating for a while now, but she still felt like she was getting to know him. She wondered if he felt the same way. If he still felt like every time they hung out he was learning more and more about her.

But even through the nerves, she wasn’t uncomfortable. She trusted Harry with her body, with her vulnerability. She looked forward to handing herself over to him for a bit, to enjoy his hands and lips and get to know how he was as a lover. Was he a biter? He had been vocal in the past but she had to hope that he would get dirty with her tonight. She needed it.

Just then, Harry walked back into the room, carrying two bottles of water. He grinned when he saw her sitting pretty in his bed, hair down now and changed. She was a fucking vision in his bed, surrounded by all things him. His pillows, laying on his sheet, the man couldn’t help that sensation of self satisfaction in his chest., Setting the water down on his nightstand before crawling onto the bed next to her. He hadn’t wanted her to have to get thirsty and not have anything to drink when she woke up or.. After activities.

He took a moment to look at her, watching her hands fiddle with the sheets as she looked up at him with rounded eyes, he could see the mixed emotions on her face- but it wasn’t necessarily fear. He wanted her to talk to him, tell him what was going on in that beautiful brain of hers. Sensing that she was probably needing a bit of soothing, Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Hey," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "What's going on in that mind?"

She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking up. "I’m just nervous, I think. I really want to do this, and have been thinking about it for a while. But sometimes those old nerves come creeping in and I get worried you won’t like what you see. I usually don’t feel this way, but when we peel back those layers and get to the real stuff, sometimes this sort of feeling leaks past. I’m sorry.” She peeped, looking down at her lap.

Harry looked at her with a soft expression, his eyes filled with understanding. "Hey, look at me.” His finger nudged her chin up, directing her eyes at him. “There she is. Sweet thing.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers chastely, starting slow. “I know it can be scary to open up and let someone in," he said. "But I want you to know that I feel the same way. S’fucking terrifying. When you care about someone, sex means a hell of a lot more. But I need you to listen to this, even if you don’t fully grasp it yet.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes looking over hers, hoping they could convey just how serious he was.

“I adore what I see. I’ve been attracted to you since we met. I know people have probably said some fucked up things, made this sort of thing scary for you- and I wish I could beat the hell out of them. Wish I could take that away and make your experiences only positive, only let you feel as beautiful as you actually are. I know you know how gorgeous you are, that this sort of thing brings you back- from what you’ve told me anyways. But I need you to know that I have never felt more attracted to someone in my life. S’not going to change without your clothes on.”

His words made her heart swell with affection for him. Finally. This was what she deserved. Someone tender with her heart, who got it- or at the very least, attempted to get it. That’s what she had asked for. Harry had seemingly come out of nowhere, placed in her direct path because he would get it. He was meant for her. Her eyes stung a bit as she felt the words hit her fully. It felt so fucking good to know how much he genuinely cared. How he was attracted to her, how he wanted to help her rewrite those experiences.

What she wanted to say couldn’t be expressed very well verbally, so she kissed him instead. Placing her own hand on his neck and pulling him in, kissing him fully as she urged him closer to her as she started to lean back. It was a fiery kiss, one that he could feel down to his bones. She meant this kiss. It was hot and heated, making him moan into her mouth as her fingers tugged slightly on the hair she had found to urge him closer. He would never tire of that.

“Thank you.” She whispered against his lips, fiddling with his hair as he adjusted. “I just want you. Want to do it. Can we?”

Harry smiled against her mouth, his heart quickening in his chest. He hadn’t expected that sort of reply. He had been fully prepared to take more time sweet talking her- but his mouth could be put to better use. “Anything you want.” He murmured to her. “Seems you’ve still got me wrapped under your spell. M’gonna be so good to you.” His lips puckered against hers, nudging their noses together before he sat up, pulling his shirt over his head. “We go as fast or as slow as you want. I’m jus’ feeling insane that I’ve even got you here.” Going back down to her mouth, he brushed his thumb against her plump bottom lip, slightly swollen from their kisses tonight. He wondered if it stung, if it was sensitive, but she answered that by wrapping said lips around the digit and sucking on the tip of it softly. Just a bit, her tongue brushing the underside as she gave him her softest eyes clouded with that hint of lust. Lust for him.

“I like this.” His voice trilled. “Like that you’re so pretty with your lips wrapped around me in any way.” Pushing his thumb a bit further into her mouth, he watched her cheeks hollow as she took it deeper and let her teeth grace his knuckle before pulling ot back out. “Temptress, that’s what you are.” He took his wet thumb and smeared it over her lip, spreading her own saliva on it before catching her lips in a kiss. “Need t’get you naked.”

This is what she had been worried about initially, but with his mouth on hers she felt a little floaty as his fingers gently tugged up her sleep shirt, only breaking their kiss when he had to tug it over her head. It was abundantly clear that he was looking when she heard his breath hitch, eyes glancing down at her bare breasts. Of course she wasn’t wearing a bra to sleep, Y/N would fight demons over underwires, but she knew she made the right call when Harry knelt down and began to kiss down her neck.

“How are you so perfect?” He groaned, peppering kisses to her while motioning for her to lay back. Harry was taking his time to play with her, to observe, to worship. “Can I touch, Sugar? Let me see how soft you really are?”

Her nod was slow, watching his face break out in a naughty grin before his hands traveled south. Despite how comfortable she was with Harry, it still made her tense a little as his hand fell to her waist. How it ran over her stomach, the one forbidden area she usually refused to be touched- but he did nothing but love on her. Letting his hands trace every curve, every dip and edge as his mouth moved further down to the hollow of her throat and bit down softly to make her whimper.

“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Like one of those paintings, hm? Y’know what I’m talking about. So soft and lush, just want to bury my face in you.” He whispered, ignoring her necklaces as he moved to the swells of her breasts. They weren’t as perky as she’d like, but that apparently had no effect on Harry. He took them into his hands, audibly groaning as he kneaded them gently. He genuinely looked pained, and a peek down showed he was hard in his pants. “Christ. M’the luckiest fucking man. Look at you.” His voice coated in awe, he let his thumbs brush over her hardened nipples, exhaling shakily.

He let his lips kiss over them, the expanse peppered in soft, slightly wet kisses leaving an imprint behind that glowed in the dim light before he went to the middle of her chest. “M’trying to take my time. Know I have all night… but you’re driving me crazy.” He croaked, letting one hand down down her stomach to the edge of her lace panties. It had been a pain in the ass to actually find comfortable lace in her size, but she would gladly go on the hunt for days to find more if it made him look at her like this. A spark went up her spine and a soft gasp left her throat as his thumb moved down, stroking her slit lightly. Cupping her mound, letting his thumb trace over the lace as she exhaled shakily, his lips closing around her nipple.

A whine she hadn’t ever made before bleated through her lips, hands finding his hair as he flicked his tongue over the pebbled nipple and continued the movements over her most sensitive place. There was no hesitation, nothing she had feared had come true. No recoil, nothing but a positive, lustful gaze and words of praise leaving him. She could tell they were genuine, his excitement palpable in the room.

“Wet for me.” He mumbled against her skin. “Got the panties wet, just sitting and waiting for me. Been dying for it just like me, hm?” He asked, smugness written on his face. “I’ve been tryin’ to pace myself.. Like you too much to rush, didn’t want to just jump into bed with you but… I’ve been dreaming about it.” Lowering himself further, Y/N made herself relax instead of tense like she had naturally inclined to doing. His lips brushed her stomach, the softness of it making him nuzzle against it before moving down. He knew she would be self conscious if he spent too much time there, but he wanted to help her get over that eventually- if she felt comfortable. He wanted to worship every inch of the woman, his modern goddess.

“Me too.” She replied, watching with hazier eyes as he found himself snugly between her legs. The man spared no area, kissing her over the panties before moving to her thighs, the fullness making him moan. She continued talking as she felt his lips exploring. “I appreciate you wanting to take me seriously and do it right but- but I’ve been desperate for it.” It wasn’t a shameful thing to admit. Harry was beyond attractive and she had the sexiest boyfriend she’d ever seen, how could anyone blame her for being eager to fall into bed with him. “Not too much teasing, p-please.” Her words stuttered as she felt his teeth graze her thigh, making her shudder. They were still on the road to discovering what each other liked, but Y/N was impatient. She had waited far too long.

“Oh, m’sorry, Sugar.” He murmured against her, digging his fingers into the waistband of her panties. “Just getting to know my girl. But let’s get down to it, hm? Didn’t mean to tease you.” His nimble fingers were quick to slide them off, aiding her in lifting her legs and tossing them to the side before letting out a whimper of the view. Y/N was beautiful in all areas, but this was his personal favorite at the moment. “Fuck me… You are everything.” He moaned, wasting little time before leaning in to let his tongue run up her slit.

Her legs tensed for a moment, his arms hooking under her to hold them open in anticipation of this. She had done such a good job at sucking him the first time, and he knew he wasn’t going to ever leave her alone again. He had appreciation for all women, but Y/N was the prettiest he had ever seen. He was determined to get her soft and pliant, keep her puffy and sensitive for him before he slid his cock inside of her. Just a taste was good, but he wanted to. Greedy for her was becoming a new key trait of his.

“Oh my god.” The girl moaned, feeling his tongue circle her clit. Looking down she could see his eyes, the hunger in them as he licked over her. It was new to her, seeing someone look almost… desperate to touch her. “Just like that, H.” Her praise seemed to make it even worse, nuzzling his face into her cunt with little care about the mess it would make on his face and testing out movements with his tongue. He was incredible, obviously, but Y/N had a bit more limited experience when it came to getting eaten out. She’d had it happen, sure, but there was something different about this time. Perhaps it was the trust, the feelings, but everything felt better.

Harry was pleased, feeling how she relaxed for him and arched slightly into his face as her hands wound in his hair. Her heavier breathing fueled him, noting every reaction he could. Her thighs tried to close as he latched on to her swollen clit, sucking it lightly into his mouth with a wet sound that went straight to his cock, but he kept her still as he did so. He knew now that he would be spending plenty of time down here, learning exactly how to make her cum from just this alone- but he had to work her open a little bit.

Pulling away from her clit, his face lifted and arm moved to slick his fingers against her cunt. “You’re happy, baby?” He crooned, not minding the slickness of his chin and mouth. He had no reservations about getting messy, and Y/N had expressed a like for it too, so when he crawled back up and her hands grabbed his face to kiss her, he wasn’t shocked. The response was just as hungry, sliding a finger inside of her and muting her squeak with his mouth as he suckled on her tongue. His cock rutted slightly against her thigh, groaning as he felt how truly tight she was. Soaked, but tight.

“I need you inside.” She panted, eyebrows furrowed as her hand slid down to his cock. Waiting for his nod, she slipped it into his pants and watched in satisfaction as his face fell into one of pleasure as she wrapped her hand around the base of him, giving a few strokes. “Please? I know it’ll hurt but- but I like it.” She whispered up at him. “Make it hurt a little bit, H. Please, just get inside me.”

“Condom- are we?” He knelt up on his knees as he shucked his pants down, eyes on her hand. She never stopped stroking him, only once to spit on her palm to make the glide that much easier. His head wasn’t on straight right now, worked up in the arousal he felt.

“No- No, we’re okay. I want it like this. If we can.” Y/N didn’t want to pressure him into anything, but by the look on his face he was more than happy to do so. Harry was visible to read, she found, and i instances like this she absolutely loved it- but she really wanted him to fuck her.

“Course, anything for you.” His fingers slid out from her cunt, brought to his mouth so he could greedily get another taste of her with the deep groan that made her pulse. Y/N was beginning to get desperate. How had she lasted this long without him? “How do you want me to take you, Sugar? Hm?” His eyes were blazing as they met hers. “Like this? On your knees?” He was giving options.

“Knees.” Leaning up for one more kiss, she took it wetly before spinning around to get comfortable. This way felt so good, and she was comfortable like this- but she hadn’t expected the spank on her bare ass. The startled squeak was accompanied by his warm hand soothing the sting, making her lean into it further.

“God… this ass.” He moaned, holding it in his hands. Harry was obsessed with every part of her, but there was no denying he was an ass man. He’d secretly praised whatever god was out there that she had chosen this way. This position was what he’d been jerking off to for weeks, and seeing her with her face laying on the pillow, hands on the sheets and ass in the air was ten times better than it was in his fantasies. “You are the most tempting thing I’ve ever seen. This is what I dream about.” He whispered, kneading it before fisting his cock. “Want to see it move when I fuck you. Perfect fucking girl.”

Y/N let out a garbled moan as she felt the tip of his cock run over her soaked slit, finding her entrance. The first push made her tense slightly before his hand ran down her back, soothing her. He was big. Big enough for it to sting slightly as he began to push in, making them both let out noises. It was like she could feel every bit of it. Never having forgone a condom before, it was a bit more intense than she had realized but god, was it worth it. He was being patient, slowly pushing in as she could feel him twitching against her, but it was worth it.

“More.” She gasped. “More, H.”

Harry was in awe of how good she was- how good she felt. Watching her cunt split open and take him, it was evident that she hadn’t been fucked in a long while, and shamefully he loved being the one to take her back. Hopefully the last cock to ever fill her, the only one she would crave, he’d tried to be gentle, but his sweet little Sugar wanted more. “More?” He laughed. “Tiny cunt can barely take this much. D’you think you can really handle more?”

He was testing out limits, and if Y/N wasn’t already dripping? She’d be soaked all over again. “I can do it.” She whined, pushing back on to him. “Promise, I can take it. Give me more.”

Doing as told, Harry began to push further into her. A deep groan left his mouth as he watched her swallow him up, slipping himself inside of her tight channel. It wasn’t the easiest, resisting slightly, but he could feel how wet she was getting. “How’s it feel, Sugar?” He asked softly, holding on to her hip as he got the last bit in. Fully submerged in her, she was dripping on him. “Hm? Talk t’me.”

“Full.” The girl choked out, grabbing the sheets until her knuckles paled. “Stings, but- I love it.” Did she ever. This was the fullest she had ever been, his cock thick and long and perfect for her as he stayed seated fully in her for a few moments before she began to rock on him. “Fuck me. Don’t be gentle, please. I can- I can take anything you give me.��

Harry would still be careful, but he trusted her. If she wanted to be fucked? He was going to deliver. Slowly pulling out a few inches, he slammed back in to make her yelp. He did it again. And again, listening to her noises as he started to find a rhythm. It was a hot, wet heaven sucking him in and he was loving every moment of it.

Y/N was reacting just how he liked. Whimpering and pushing back on to him, moaning for him as he brought his hand down on her ass again and watched the skin ripple as it hit. His obsession with her ass was only being fueled as he watched it hit his groin. This was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

He continued, watching as his girl tugged at the sheets and whined for him, fueling his ego as he began to fuck into her harder. It only seemed to satisfy her more. It was the most free he had felt during sex in his life. Not worried about hurting her too much as he saw what she preferred, he pounded into her as he held her hips tightly. Surely there would be bruises on her after this, but part of him relished in that. Marks made by him on the perfect woman underneath him, marking her as freshly fucked and fully his.

Y/N felt like she was being fucked stupid. Like each thrust was making her focus only on how to get this to never end, how she wanted him to stay humping her forever. He wasn’t holding back and fuck, did it feel good. Harry was strong, thorough and so deep she swore if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was in her stomach. “You’re giving it… so good.” She slurred, eyes watering slightly as his hand wrapped around her hair and tugged. A whine left her as she was forced up, scrambling to use her hands as he fucked into her sopping cunt like it belonged to him. “Hit me again- please.” She begged as his hand in her hair made her arch her back.

The man chuckled in disbelief, bringing his free hand down against her ass again, and again. Watching as the spot moved and her ass rippled from the force of his thrusts. The moans coming from her felt too good to be true, but as he pulled her up and had her on her knees, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped an arm around her own, his other hand turning her head so he could kiss her. Albeit sloppy at this angle, Y/N was feeling like she was in a dream as he cooed against her cheek.

“So fucking wet for me, you’re dripping. Naughty girl. Like it when I rough you up a little, hm?” A yank of her hair made her mewl, doing her best to nod. “Was going to go nice and slow, make love t’you… but you had to tell me to fuck the gentleness. Had to make me fuck you like a little whore.” The slight degradation made her cry out, clutching the arm bracing her to his chest as she searched out his lips- but he wasn’t done talking. “Knew you were dirty… But getting off on this? Being called a whore, being fucked bare and on your knees? Never knew my sweet little Sugar had it in her.” He released her hair to collar her throat, his strong hand wrapping firmly around her neck as he jostled her with his thrusts.

“My sweet girl didn’t want soft. No… You wanted the fucking only I could give you, Yeah? All the rest couldn’t fuck you right, but you knew that I could.” His lips dragged against her ear, making her shiver. “And that’s why you’re letting me keep you. Cause I love this beautiful body, wany every single inch to crave my touch. M’gonna train you to want me everywhere. Your neck, your cunt, your stomach, your thighs… You’re going t’feel every bit of beautiful as you are.” His voice was darker, rougher, and it went straight to her cunt. Y/N swore she could cum just from that.

“Yeah, yes, only you can fuck me like this.” She babbled back, knowing it was the truth- but she couldn’t wait until later one when she showed him it was the same for him. Only she would fuck him the way he wanted. She would take control at some point and show him that, but for now she was more than happy to let him take the lead. He did an incredible job.

It felt like she was on fire, the tips of her nerves buzzing as he fucked into her over and over again. With whispered permission, he closed his fingers around the side of her neck in a practiced way, cutting off a bit of air and giving her the headrush she needed. “Gonna cum- I’m gonna cum, Harry.” She said frantically, voice slightly strained as the mix of his cock hitting the spot she needed, the words and his hand around her neck having her barrelling towards orgasm much faster than she had before. It was almost rare, before, to cum during penetrative sex, but he was getting her in that exact way she needed.

“Go on, baby.” He encouraged. “Soak me, c’mon. Cum on my cock, my perfect little whore. Sweet little goddess… Show me how good you feel.” He continued the same pace, not wanting to change a thing so she could meet her end. It fueled him to know it was his doing as he watched her begin to fall over the edge.

Y/N’s ears were ringing as she came, all she could focus on was the pleasure. White hot, spilling from her belly to her clit, all the way to her eyes as they watered. The most pathetic little scream was given as she began to tremble in his arms, nails digging into the one holding her up as her cunt fluttered around him. Her breathing caught in her throat, even as he released the grip and simply held her he worked her through it, but it was difficult to stop. She began to go limp, unable to keep herself up.

Harry was right at the edge, feeling that orgasm- but he was gentle as he lowered her down, body following after her as he chased her orgasm. Now weighted on top of her, he used one hand to make sure he didn’t crush her while the other stayed on her throat while he buried his face into her neck, grunting as he felt his orgasm crest. It hit him like a train, his own pathetic whine leaving his chest as he shuddered on top of her, sloppy final thrusts pushing him over the edge. A moan of her name left his swollen lips into her neck as the first ribbon of cum spilled into her, stalling as his balls began to pulse and the thickened load of cum began to fill her up.

It was more intense than either of them had felt before. Both felt stinging in their eyes, a need to stay close, and want to hold on- so they did. Recovering slowly, Harry stayed buried in her cunt as he pressed kissed silently to her cheek and neck as his cock gave its final twitches inside. Spent. It was unusually comfortable despite the stickiness between bodies, and when Y/N gathered the strength she lifted her head and whined softly for a kiss which the man happily gave.

“You okay?” He asked softly after a few moments of quiet breathing and her body stayed under his. He was blown away, if he was honest, but he didn’t know how to verbalize it to her.

“M’so good.” Y/N giggled, feeling his nose against hers as he smiled. “I don’t know what got into us, but I loved it.” The woman knew how rare good sex actually was at this point, especially for her, but Harry had almost read her mind. She’d directed a little, but he followed every cue her body had given. He’d taken control, was a little degrading but not too mean. She’d get him to be meaner later- or show him how mean she could be.

“Me too.” He admitted, hissing as he adjusted in her. He was sensitive for now. “Gotta pull out in a minute. D’you want to take a shower?” His fingers were gentle as he removed them from her throat, moving the hair that was stuck to her face. “Need to make sure you’re all taken care of.”

It warmed her heart to know he cared. He actually gave a fuck if she was okay and knew what aftercare was. She’d gotten lucky.

“Yeah. Just give me a minute.” She yawned, burying her head into the pillow. “My legs are like jell-o. You can be smug about it.” The permission was heavily earned.

“Well, I will be. But I want you to be comfortable first.” He sighed. “I'll give us a minute but m”gonna have to change the bed.” Harry didn’t want to assume anything of her for another round, but she answered that herself.

“Don’t bother.” She mumbled. “You’re going to be back inside of me before we get out of bed tomorrow.” Harry couldn’t argue with that. All he knew was, he had gotten a proper taste of Sugar- and he was an addict.

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joshym · 1 year ago

Text

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 1

Paring: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 8.8k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) mentions of stress & anxiety, mentions of a broken home, mentions of an ill, disabled parent, mentions of an oxygen tank & medications, jake is an asshole, (if I missed anything, please let me know)

a/n: it's here! i can't begin to express how excited i am to share this with everyone. this story has been in the works for quite some time now, & it's been such a joy to write. i sincerely hope you all love it. please don't be afraid to let me know what you think. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor, & being my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

As you walk up the stone steps of Angell Hall, you feel as though you’re walking into a book filled with ancient Greek Mythology. The pillars that resemble the Parthenon temple, the delicate stone work motifs that portray Athena's owl and Pegasus; you’ve truly never felt more at home than you do at this very moment as you take your first steps inside the building that houses the English Literature courses. The inside is rich with artwork personifying poetry and myth. The intricate neoclassical design of the ceilings, complete with gold leafing and imperial medallions. The most incredible building you’ve ever seen, and one of the many reasons you decided to make the transfer to the University of Michigan.

It’s been no easy feat to get here. In fact, it’s been damn near impossible. It’s by the skin of your teeth that you’re here today, walking the very halls of your dream school.

The road to get here has been hell. Pure, unadulterated hell. You’ve saved every last penny to afford the move here, while trying to take care of your mom and her declining health. It didn’t help that your dad decided it was all too much for him and left a year ago, leaving the two of you alone with hardly the means to afford even the bare necessities. With two full time jobs, online classes at some bullshit university, and tending to your mom’s every need for the last year, it’s a fucking miracle you’re standing here today.

It’s only been a month since you received your acceptance letter in the mail. You worked your ass off the last two years maintaining a 4.0 gpa to be sure you’d be accepted. You’d applied back in January and waited six excruciating months to hear back, obsessively checking the mail at least three times a day.

One day, you noticed a rather large, crumpled envelope stuffed in your tiny mailbox. It was wet from a rainstorm that had hit earlier that day, but you could still make out the sender information.

The University of Michigan

515 East Jefferson St.

1220 Student Activities Building

Ann Arbor, MI 48109-1316

You knew that the contents of this envelope would seal your fate for the next two years. You were hesitant at first to open, scared of rejection. You let it sit for a few hours before finally ripping it open as quickly as your fingers would allow.

You pulled out the sopping piece of cardstock, stamped with a golden “M” at the top left corner.

Congratulations, y/n!

You’re in! We are pleased to inform you that you are admitted to the University of Michigan College of Literature, Science and the Arts Junior class entering fall of 2023.

Within two weeks of receiving the letter, you and your mom packed up what little you had and left the sleepy town of Cherry Tree, Oklahoma.

Up until now, you’d lived in this tiny town your entire life. You’ve been so ready to leave, to find adventure elsewhere that would allow you to spread your wings. You’d been held back there for so long. You knew it was time, and as much as she could, your mother supported your choice to leave and she was eager herself to get away.

You managed to secure a low income apartment in Ann Arbor that has accommodations for those with disabilities. It’s a shithole. But it’s your shithole.

You’re solely responsible for any and all bills as your mom isn’t fit to work. You’ve got enough saved up to last about a month, so one of your first priorities is to find a job that will sustain you.

Right now, though, your current goal is to find your first class in this massive building. It’s intimidating. Everyone here is walking past you in a hurry to get where they need to go as you’re stuck, still trying to figure out where room 3182 is. There aren’t signs anywhere to help guide you through the utter maze that is Angell Hall. You haven’t the slightest clue of where to start.

You try asking a few people, only to be met with vague points in general directions, or people simply telling you ‘up stairs.’

Where are the damn stairs?

You start trekking along in an attempt to find them, when you see a large wooden door that’s cracked open just enough to see, finally, a staircase.

Some progress.

Making your way to the third floor, you assume you’ve finally found where your class will be when you look at a room number… and it says ‘2548.’

Dammit.

You head back to the stairs to make your way up to the next floor, and to your relief, the class numbers all begin with a three.

You head down the long, dimly lit hallway in frantic search for room 3182, to no avail. The hallway has so many twists and turns with no guidance for direction. There may as well be a scarecrow with arms pointing in all directions saying ‘this way!’

You’re stuck yet again, unsure of where to go. You assume everyone is in their respective classes as the hall is barren, so there’s not a soul to ask. With only two minutes until class begins, you’re nearing the point of giving up.

Anything is better than waltzing into class late on your first day, no less your first day at a university where no one knows you. What a fantastic first impression to make.

Suddenly, a man comes barging down the hall towards you. He looks a bit unapproachable, wearing a large brimmed black hat on top of his shoulder length hair, sunglasses that mimic ones worn by John Lennon in the seventies and a matching all black ensemble of linen pants and a button up, with only the last few buttons actually secured. He jingles as he moves due to an obnoxious number of necklaces sitting on his bare chest.

You’re not sure you want to bother him but desperate times call for asking strange men for directions.

“Hi, excuse me. Could you tell me where room-”

Without even acknowledging your basic existence, he seems to be in a hurry as he slams into you, knocking your brown canvas bag off your shoulder and effectively dumping everything out of it.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he quickly turns the corner, not even bothering to help you pick up the mess he’s created.

“John Lennon wannabe motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as you bend down to gather your belongings.

You hear footsteps coming closer to you, thinking just maybe he's decided to come back and make amends.

“Sorry about him, girl.”

You glance up just as she’s kneeling down, offering to help with your scattered books.

“Don’t pay him any mind. He thinks he walks on water,” she says as she helps you shove the last of them in your bag, now all disheveled and out of your perfect order.

“God, thank you so much. Would you happen to know where room 3182 is? I haven’t the slightest clue where I’m going.”

“Just keep going down the hall until you reach the bathroom, take a left and it’s the second room on the right,” she says, with a warm smile.

You thank her again and quickly head in that direction.

At last, you breathe a sigh of relief as you approach room 3182.

With a deep breath, you open the door to the massive lecture hall that appears more like an auditorium with its pitched floor.

All eyes are on you, the room dead silent as the professor glares at you.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I had the worst time-”

“No matter. Just take your seat and do it quickly,” he cuts you off.

You scan the room in search of an empty seat as everyone continues to silently stare at you, eyes burning holes in your soul.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid.

Finally you spot one on the far right corner of the room. Swiftly heading towards it, you make a horrid discovery.

Mr. John Lennon wannabe is in the seat right next to the empty one.

Of fucking course.

Grudgingly, you take your seat next to him. He shifts his body slightly away from you as you situate yourself, letting out a long, dramatic sigh once you're settled.

You decide to try and humble him with your southern hospitality, asking his name with a kind smile, to which he only responds by cocking his head in your general direction and not bothering to answer you.

What an ass.

“Now that it seems we finally have everyone here, let’s get things started. Welcome to English 450, The Quest for King Arthur. My name is Dr. Movack and I will be your instructor throughout the semester.”

You start pulling out all of your books on King Arthur, annoyed that some of them now have bent pages thanks to the mysterious man wearing all black sitting to your left.

“One of the requirements to be accepted in this class, aside from the prerequisite courses, is to have more than just the basic knowledge of Arthurian lore.” Dr. Movack continues, “Taking that into account, there is no need to waste time in starting from the beginning. However, I would like to take a moment to test your knowledge. Each person who answers correctly will receive a point towards extra credit.”

Dr. Movack begins going around the room, asking everyone basic questions and facts about King Arthur when he finally gets to you.

“I would like you to tell me which text offers the earliest reference to Arthur.”

With booming confidence, you answer, “I believe it’s around the 7th century when he is briefly mentioned in the poem titled Y Gododdin.”

The John Lennon look alike on your left lets out an obnoxiously loud chuckle while shaking his head.

“Dr. Movack, it’s a well known fact that Arthur isn’t specifically mentioned until Historia Brittonum in the 9th century. She’s clearly wrong,” he blurts out.

You know your stuff when it comes to this lore. You’ve studied it for the better part of your life and you’ll be damned if you let this man who, for whatever reason has developed a vendetta against you, try to outwit you.

“No, you are wrong. You obviously haven’t read the poem or you’d know he’s named when referencing the bravery of Gwawrddur.”

He waves his palm in your face in an attempt to silence you, the gesture causing your lip to curl in frustration. “Tell her, Dr. Movack. Tell her she’s wrong and has no idea what she’s talking about.” He asserts.

Talking about you instead of to you is a great way to piss you off and he’s on the right path towards it. His refusal to even look at you has you nearly in flames with rage.

“What’s your name, miss?” Dr. Movack asks.

“Y/n,” you respond.

Your heart is thumping out of your chest as you await the professor's response.

“It seems there may be someone here who knows even more than you, Kiszka.” Lennon’s jaw nearly hits the desk beneath him. “Y/n is absolutely right. Y Gododdin does, in fact, mention Arthur. The introduction is so slight that it’s often missed, but scholars argue that this piece does indeed contain the first true reference.”

Even through his obnoxious sunglasses, you can see the frustration painted on his face. Proving him wrong in front of the whole class serves him right.

Poetic justice at its finest.

You laugh through your nose and give yourself a metaphorical pat on the back, anticipating more praise from Dr. Movack when he says “However, miss, you will not receive your point for being late to my class.”

Lennon cackles at this, of course, feeling he’s somehow won this educational battle.

He answers his question correctly, receiving his point and commendation from Dr. Movack.

He sits back in his chair, arms crossed with a smug face, wearing a ‘kiss my ass’ grin on his lips.

You just roll your eyes and look the other direction, envisioning yourself ripping those ridiculous sunglasses off his face.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Something you’re not used to yet, and perhaps will never get used to, is the Detroit traffic. Stuck in your beat to hell ‘92 Firebird in bumper to bumper traffic, you’re at a near standstill as you’re desperate to get home after a long day of classes. What should only be a fifteen minute drive home has already lasted more than thirty, and you’ve hardly moved an inch.

You’re sitting in silence as you don’t even have the luxury of the radio to keep you company. You’re lucky enough that this car even runs with as much shit as it’s been through. A hand-me-down from a hand-me-down, losing parts and gusto after each set of hands it passes through. You figure you’ll be the last to drive it before it meets its timely end in the very near future.

WIthout much else to preoccupy you at the moment, your mind is wandering with recollection of your first day at the school you’ve had your sights set on since your first comprehensible memory. Feeling like a fish out of water would be the most comfortable way to describe your day. It goes far beyond that.

You know it’ll take some time to settle. But you’re afraid that time won’t fix the fact that you may not truly belong here. You’ve never really fit in anywhere, even in your tiny hometown that you’d lived in your whole life. You were never fully accepted there, so what makes you think you’d be accepted here? You’d always felt so isolated in Cherry Tree, too small of a town to feel such a way. Now, you have the intimidation of a rather large city to amplify your isolation.

Aside from the nightmare that was finding your first class and the man who made you late to it, your other classes went about as well as you could’ve hoped for. You’d still managed to get lost a fair amount, but on the brightside, you’d found the campus coffee shop so you had been able to stay there for a while this afternoon.

The man, who you can only refer to as Lennon given he so rudely refused to give you his first name, was also studying in the coffee shop today, much to your dismay.

And the way he’d locked eyes with you for a brief moment before quickly looking away…

You were not sure why, but now, you can’t pry him from your ambulant mind. Something about him, aside from his insolent demeanor, is oddly enticing. He’s dark, almost mystifying. There are secrets in the air he breathes. Whether or not you want to know them, you can’t quite decide. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued.

Traffic finally begins to move at a steady pace, breaking your trance and causing your disoriented image of him to return to one filled with anger.

Mystifying or not, he was an ass for absolutely no reason. You’ve made up your mind that you will never give him the time of day again.

You pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex, your car sputtering its cry of exhaustion as you’ve put it to the ultimate test far too many times lately.

“I need you to hang on just a little longer, old friend.” You say as you throw the gear shift in park. “Just a little longer, then we’ll lay your heaping metal bones to rest.”

You trek up the stairs to your apartment, stopping at door 264. You smile as you look down to see “Don’t Knock Unless You Brought Wine” stitched on the doormat beneath your feet. Your mom insisted on it, and as ridiculous as you think it is, you’re grateful for the smile it’s brought to your tired face.

You search through your disarranged canvas bag for your key, silently cursing the fact that it’s not in its designated spot.

Finally spotting the shining silver, you pull it out and twist it in the rusted bolt to open the door.

Your mom is sprawled out on the couch, her oxygen tank filling the quiet apartment with a subtle humming. The living room television is on some old sitcom she loves with the volume muted, as per usual for her.

You don’t want to wake her, as it’s imperative that she gets as much rest these days as she can. You keep as quiet as possible while heading to the kitchen to start dinner for the two of you.

You decide on something simple; bowtie pasta with alfredo and grilled chicken.

Your mom always had a knack for all things culinary. Her skill remains unmatched, although it’s not as easy for her these days.

You sadly missed out on that trait from her. You’re lucky if you don’t burn the water. But, over the course of her illness becoming increasingly debilitating, you’ve taught yourself some easy and quick recipes to get by.

You spoon a healthy amount of pasta on each of your plates, even garnishing them with a few basil leaves for a little aesthetic.

You pour yourself a much needed glass of merlot before taking your mom’s plate to her.

You gently wake her by carefully nudging her hand.

“Dinners ready, mom. I hope it’s okay.”

She slowly begins to stir awake, looking happy to see you as you sit next to her. “I’m sure it’ll be great. Thank you, sweetie.” You help her to sit up and get stabilized before handing her her plate. “How was your first day?” She tries not to wince as she takes her first bite. Her years of being a culinary expert have made her awfully picky when it comes to food, but she’s never once outwardly complained about your cooking. Although you can tell she’s less than impressed, she would never tell you that. She knows you’re trying your best and she’s so grateful for it, especially since your dad left.

“It was alright, I guess.” You take your first bite and instantly understand her initial aversion to it. Undercooked noodles and over cooked chicken. You’re glad it’s not the other way around this time.

“Just alright?” she asks.

You don’t have the heart to tell her how draining today truly was, so you just tell her that classes were a little stressful but that it really was a great day.

You switch the subject and talk about the beauty of the campus and how badly you wish she could see it. “Maybe someday,” she says.

You want nothing more than to get her out of this dingy apartment for a day and take her around, to show her the wonder of the city. It’s been incredibly difficult watching battle her illness. She seems to grow weaker with each passing day. Although she tries to conceal it from you, you know your mom, and you can see her deteriorate before your very eyes. It breaks your heart in a million pieces, but you still hold out hope that she will get better someday.

Hope is all you have.

Until then, you just try to enjoy each and every moment you share with her.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’re situated outside of room 3182 nearly thirty minutes early this morning, drinking your steaming coffee and reading House of Leaves that was assigned to you yesterday in your Classic Horror course.

The real inescapable horror, however, would be sitting next to him again, so you’re here early to avoid the unnecessary cruelty you faced the other day.

Taking advantage of your extra time, you allow yourself to become immersed in the daunting novel.

You read of a man on a slow descent to insanity, discovering a manuscript that details a home that transforms on the inside, yet stays the same on the outside.

Unlit hallways that continue for ages, doors appearing where they hadn’t been before. An architectural conundrum, this house.

The words in the book appear in strange prints, some pages with them upside down, placed in strange patterns; some pages with no words at all.

The word “House” is always in the color blue, even on the cover.

The novel both fascinates you and terrifies you all at once, having read it twice before. You’ve yet to make your own interpretations on this book as they seem to change with each read. A bit of a mindfuck, as it were.

Just as you’re diving head first into the maddening depths of Danielewski's story, you hear keys jingling followed by the door to the classroom opening.

You’d been so lost in your book you hadn’t even noticed that most of the students had joined you in the hall, waiting for class to begin.

You’re the first to head inside, much to Dr. Movack’s shock. You take your seat in the front row near the podium, the furthest one away from where you assume Lennon will sit.

The rest of the class piles in, taking their respective seats and gearing up for class. Here comes Lennon, clad in all black once again– sunglasses and all. He walks right past you, humoring you by ignoring your presence.

Good. Keep walking.

As more students pile in, you notice one mindlessly walking towards you before he abruptly stops and eyes you in your seat. You simply smile and nod as he stands there with a curious look about him.

He slowly walks away, leaving you a bit puzzled but you choose to ignore it.

The hands on the antique brass wall clock strike 10:00 am, and you notice Dr. Movack is still out in the hall speaking with someone. Of whom, you can’t quite tell.

You and the rest of the class wait patiently, when finally Dr. Movack walks in, but he’s not alone. He’s with the student who glared strangely at you just moments ago.

The student is standing near the professor, as if he has something to say, when Dr. Movack clears his throat and begins speaking.

“I feel I needn't say this, but it’s clear some of you aren’t aware of how things are done around here, so I will say it this once so that we all understand. Once you choose your seat on the first day of class, that becomes your designated seat for the remainder of the semester. It is disruptive to your fellow classmates to decide to take the seat they specifically chose as their throne for learning.”

Your chest tightens and your face becomes flush with unease.

You know instantly that he’s talking about you.

“So, I will end this here: if you are not sitting in the spot you chose on the first day of class, I suggest you move to said spot immediately so we can get started with our business.”

Shit.

You’re utterly humiliated as you slowly stand up, you being the only one to stand up and making it abundantly clear to everyone in class that you were the cause of this.

You take your things and move to the spot you so desperately wanted to avoid, right next to Lennon who is covering his mouth with his hand, giggling at your shame.

The student standing by Dr. Movack takes his rightful seat as you take yours.

The class you had been most excited for this semester is quickly turning out to be the one you wished you had never signed up for.

You made a terrible impression on the first day by being late, and now on the second day of this class, you’ve broken an unspoken rule that you had no previous knowledge of. All of that topped off with the man sitting next to you who has made his distaste for you rather clear… the only thought tormenting your mind is how badly you wish you could crawl in a hole and never have to show your face in this class ever again.

“I have an important announcement,” declares Dr. Movack as he takes post behind his podium. “Through the entirety of this course, you will be working on a semester-long project relating to the appropriation of Arthurian legend. This project is fairly at your liberty, meaning there are very few stipulations for you to follow.”

Okay, this is something you can handle. Something to sink your teeth into, something you know you’ll excel at.

“This will not be a solo project, however.”

Oh no.

“There are exactly fifty students in this class, so you will be paired in twos for a total of twenty five projects.”

Please no.

“As far as who you will be assigned with, that is very simple. The person seated next to you is who you will work with for the remainder of the semester.”

With Lennon being the very last seat in your row, and you being directly next to him, this means…he will be your partner. For the entire semester.

You were cursed from the first day you stepped foot in this room and had to sit next to him. Fate would have it so things would not work in your favor, it appears.

“This project is not to be taken lightly as it is worth sixty percent of your final grade. Everything in this class will lead up to it, so I suggest you take your readings very seriously.”

He will ruin this for you, no fucking doubt.

He won’t even give you the grace of telling you his first name, and now you have to work on a huge project with him for four months? A project worth more than half of your grade?

That hole you debated on crawling in is sounding better and better by the minute.

“Well, guess that makes us partners.” To your disbelief, Lennon speaks his first words to you in lieu of his typical 'at you' approach. “The nice thing is that it guarantees me a good grade.”

“Is that your way of admitting I know more about this than you do, Kiszka?” you snark. He cocks an eyebrow above his black lenses as you dare to utter his last name.

“Not quite.” He snorts a condescending chuckle, “I can tell you’re the type to work towards the best grade possible, hence, ensuring my success in the process. Shall I thank you now or later?”

Lennon’s got you there.

You take projects like these rather seriously, and this one will be no exception. As much as you’d love to set him up for failure, that would warrant your failure right along with him.

It’s the perfect scenario for him and a living nightmare for you.

Lovely.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You walk through the open doors of the lecture hall for your next class, spotting yet another familiar face amongst the students, only this one much more kind and welcoming.

You recognize her as the kind soul who helped you the other day when your bag was senselessly knocked off your shoulder by your favorite Lennon impersonator.

“Hey!” she says as she notices you, “Come sit next to me!”

You’re nearly taken away by her beauty as you sit beside her, finally able to get a better look at her this time.

Her glowing caramel skin, her eyes light and honest with a sepia tone, her dark brown curls that are unruly yet flawlessly styled, held perfectly on top of her head with the most beautiful satin scarf.

“Thank you again for helping me the other day. You’re a saint for that.” You hang your book bag on the back of your chair, pulling out its contents for class. “You’ll never believe this, but that guy that slammed into me with no remorse, he’s in my class. The one that he made me so late for. And because of that, we’re partnered together for a semester-long project.”

“Ah yes, Jake,” she says under a giggle, adjusting her dark green, slouchy sweater off her toned shoulder. “He’s something else, that’s for sure. He’s got a good heart but he covers it with that mysterious, dark facade that he thinks makes him look so cool.”

Alas, Lennon does have a first name after all. Although, you prefer the nickname you’ve given him.

“Well, Jake has made it rather clear that I am not his favorite person and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I’m not sure how we’ll manage to make it through this semester together with his shitty attitude.”

She hums under her breath, slowly shaking her head as if to say ‘just you wait.’

“My name’s Natalia. Where’d you fly in from?”

The way her name rolls off her tongue with her slight accent is nothing short of beautiful.

“Just a miniscule town in Oklahoma. Is it really that obvious that I’m not from here?” you answer in a hushed tone, half embarrassed to admit such a thing.

She grins as she sings a few words from the title track from the beloved Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, showcasing her stark white teeth that compliment her glowing, tanned skin perfectly.

“I hate to tell you Ms. Oklahoma, but you do kind of stick out like a sore thumb,” she quips.

Having gone from a small, southern town to the outskirts of Detroit, you’re bound to look like an outsider until the culture shock wears off, much to your discontent.

As much as you wish you could quickly adapt and easily blend in, it’s just not possible. Your face twinges as you remember your first day, specifically that one class you’d care to not mention any further.

“Welcome, students, to Women in Literature. My name is Dr. Lacey and I’ll be your instructor through the duration of this course.”

Class begins and you both submerge yourself in a study that’s particularly important to each of you.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“I can’t call you Ms. Oklahoma forever, you know.”

You and Natalia have the rest of the day free from classes, so you decided to walk with her to the Central Campus library to do some studying.

“I guess you’re right,” you say through a laugh. “My name is y/n.”

You walk across the large courtyard full of lush green grass, intricate steel benches and the most lovely hydrangeas colored a deep purple.

The Michigan landscape is a far cry from anything you had ever seen in Oklahoma. Everything's so green and flourished, so full of life. Vibrant colors paint the scenery in the most beautiful vision.

The weather is nearly perfect, with the temperatures never exceeding the mid seventies and the humidity far below the excruciating levels of the southern states.

You’re in awe as you go day to day with the sheer beauty of the nature that surrounds you.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, your curiosity begins to take over your every thought. Jake Kiszka. Your semester-long partner. You need to know more about him, as much as you attempt to relinquish the desire.

You finally build up the courage to ask. “So, how do you know him?”

She looks at you upon your inquiry, squinting her eyes as she studies your face. “Who, Jake?” She says with a sinister grin about her.

“Yes, Jake. What is it about him that he feels the need to treat people like they’re beneath him?”

“Ah, Sir Jacob,” she says. “He’s a bit of an enigma, I guess you could say. And yes, he is single.” She throws you a wink as you stare at her with utter disgust at her wisecrack.

“I do not care if he’s single,” you respond, causing her to snort a chuckle.

“I’ve known the guy for years. We go all the way back to the golden days of our youth. He and his twin brother graduated high school a year before me, and their younger brother was a year below me.” A twin? There’s two of him? “I’ve known their family for the better part of my life. Good people, truly. I can’t begin to tell you how much they’ve helped my family and me.”

You’ve only just met him, but the words ‘good’ and ‘Jake’ don’t seem to belong in the same sentence.

“Incidentally enough, his twin, Josh, and my brother, Malachi, have been partners since they graduated together. So, they’re kind of my family, too.” You walk up the steps to the library as she holds the large wooden door open for you.“I promise you, y/n. He’s not all bad. You’ve just seen what he projects to people he doesn’t know. Like I said, he thinks it makes him look cool.”

Your thoughts momentarily stop as you take your first steps into the library. You’re in shock. Though, you shouldn’t be. Every single building you’ve stepped foot into on this campus is absolutely immaculate, and the library is no exception.

It’s almost bewitching, with thousands of books lining the walls, reaching chandeliers that seem to hang from the clouds at their height.

The alluring musty scent of aged novels fill your senses and take you back to a time long since forgotten.

It’ll be far too tempting to spend all of your time here, getting lost in the pages that fill the space of grandeur.

You’ve been stuck in a near trance by the beauty surrounding you, you hadn’t even noticed that Natalia moved behind the circulation desk.

“It’s also his way of keeping his guard up. It’s rare that anyone gets to discover the true Jacob,” she says as she types away at the computer sitting at the desk.

“Um, Natalia?” You quietly ask. “Should you be back there?”

She laughs as she takes in your slightly terrified expression, “Well I would say so, ya know, since it’s the start of my shift.”

“You work here?” How could anyone be so lucky as to work in such an immaculate setting?

“It’s a pretty sweet gig. It’s not the most thrilling job but it’s nice and quiet. I get to spend my days among books, and the tuition break is a pretty nice incentive.” She secures her gold plated magnetic name badge to sweater, making her look rather official.

A job on campus would be utter perfection for you. You’ll be spending a vast majority of your time here anyways, and the tuition break would be a significant help in your situation.

“Do you happen to know of any other jobs on campus that are hiring?” you ask, almost embarrassed, but you have a feeling you can trust her. “I’m kind of in a pinch to find something soon. Desperate, actually.”

She rests her chin between her index finger and thumb, seeming to ponder your question. “I know of a few,” she says. “One that just so happens to be in this very library, if you’re interested.” Her voice carries an almost sarcastic tone, she knows you’re interested.

“Oh my god, are you serious? I would love to work here!” you say.

“I figured you would.” She rummages through the credenza and pulls out a sheet of paper entitled ‘Employment Application’ and sets it on the desk in front of you.

“Go ahead and fill this out, and I’ll consider putting in a good word for you.” She winks at you as she hands you a pen.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Classes have become increasingly difficult. It’s nothing you can’t handle, but you find it hard to make time for much of anything outside of work and school.

You started your new job at the library one week ago today. You pick up as many shifts as possible, mostly evenings and nights as your days are taken up with your classes. The library stays open until ten o’clock, so most nights you don’t get home until at least ten thirty.

You set aside a little time after class everyday to run home and take care of your mom before work, making her dinner and being sure her nightly medications are set out before you head back to campus.

As busy as you are, you truly love your job and you’re immensely excited about your studies.

Your friendship with Natalia has bloomed beautifully over the last week.

You’re so grateful for her. She has been your saving grace lately as this last week has been a bit treacherous. Her companionship has been a major help in your adjustment to this new way of life and your somewhat rigorous schedule.

Jake, on the other hand–well, things are about the same. You’ve set aside your pride a few times this week in an attempt to get along with him for the sake of your project, but he just brushed you off, every single time.

This project is massive, and not having it started yet, or even having a single idea about what you’ll do with it, is giving you serious anxiety.

The tension with him seems to grow by the day and you’re almost at the end of your rope with it. You don’t know how to fix it, but you need to figure out something soon so you can bury this unnecessary hatchet and focus on your shared assignment.

–

After running home to make dinner for your mom and tend to a few chores, you make it back to campus just in time to begin your shift.

Tonight, you’re in charge of contacting students with missing books and tacking on late fees to their accounts if necessary.

You’re sitting at the computer, scrolling through the seemingly endless list of students and calling them to let them know of the fees they’ve accrued.

Most of them are rather displeased with you upon your notice, some of them even giving you a small piece of their mind before abruptly hanging up on you.

You make phone call after phone call, trekking through the list organized alphabetically by last name.

At last, you’ve made it to the end of the J’s. Your task for the evening was to make it halfway through the list, and you’re nearly there as you begin contacting students whose last names begin with K.

Upon reading the name of the next student, your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach.

Kiszka, Jacob T (1): Le Morte d’Arthur (Norton Critical Edition) - Mallory

“You can’t be serious,” you mumble.

You debate on ‘accidentally’ skipping him, but you don’t want anything to jeopardize your brand new job.

You have to call him, and you’re not looking forward to it.

You suddenly hear the voice of your boss in the back of your mind, “It’s proper etiquette to always state your name when calling students, so be sure to introduce yourself with each call you make.”

You quickly make up your mind that you will not mention your name during your call to him. The last thing you need is any more awkward air between you two.

You dial his number and wait, listening to the ominous ringing from the other end.

Your eyes are pinched shut, your palms sticky with sweat as you secretly hope he doesn’t answer.

Then, the ringing comes to a stop, “Hello?”

Shit.

“Is this Jacob?” You use your best professional tone, hoping to disguise your voice as much as you can.

“This is he,” he responds, the statement ending in more of a question.

“Hi, Jacob. This is y/n with the Central Campus Library.”

Fuck.

You throw your head in your hand, mentally cursing yourself for letting your name slip through. Maybe he didn’t notice, you think to yourself.

There’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment before you clear your throat and continue speaking.

“I’m calling about your overdue copy of Le Morte d’Arthur.”

“Y/n? Aren’t you in my class?” he asks.

So much for him not noticing.

Ignoring his question, you proceed “It looks like you checked it out over the summer and it’s now twenty eight days overdue. Per policy, there has been a fee of seven dollars and fifty cents added to your account. If it is not returned by the thirty one day mark, you will receive anoth-”

He patronizingly cuts you off before you can finish, “You’re in Movack’s class, huh? You sit right next to me.”

With a sigh of frustration, you finish telling him that he must return it within three days or he’ll receive a much heftier fee.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that,” he says before hanging up on you. His short tone has infuriated you beyond belief.

“Asshole,” you exclaim as you slam the phone down on the receiver causing a booming echo to erupt throughout the building. Luckily, the only other person here with you is Natalia. She’s been in the back sorting books while you’ve been dealing with overdue rentals.

Her boisterous laughter adds to the echoing bouncing off the walls. “I heard that,” she yells.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’re especially dreading Dr. Movacks class today after your phone call with Jake last night. You know for a fact that things will be even more tense with him today, and you’re just not in the mood to deal with it.

The exhaustion from everything piled on your plate has really begun to set in. Jake is the last thing you want to worry about. With each unpleasant interaction with him, your impatience grows to new levels.

With the support of your large cold brew in hand, you gather the nerve to walk into class.

“So you work at the library, huh?” Jake says as you take your seat.

“Yep,” you say in response. You pull out your phone and scroll mindlessly, giving him the hint that you’re less than interested in talking with him.

Class begins, and Dr. Movack starts his lecture on Arthurian timelines. You’re trying to pay close attention, but you find yourself becoming increasingly distracted– by Jake.

He smells so good– a mix of sandalwood and vanilla. You’ve noticed it before, but for some reason it’s particularly exhilarating today.

You chalk it up to delusion from fatigue and force yourself to pay attention to the lecture.

But fuck if it isn’t hard has hell to ignore.

You reach for your coffee, glancing Jake's way when you make yet another intrusive realization.

The way he grips his pen so tightly– the veins in his hand and forearm protrude in the most captivating way.

Your eyes slowly follow a trail to his pecks, the curve of them seen just beneath his partially open, black—of course—button down. You watch them tense slightly with each word he writes.

Dr. Movack ends the lecture and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring far too long.

“Can I help you?”

You’re instantly mortified at him catching your stare. Desperate to find any excuse, you happen to see his copy of Le Morte d’Arthur sitting underneath his notebook. Thank god.

“Your book,” you point to the novel. “You need to return it.”

He huffs a laugh as he takes his sunglasses off, leaving you stunned. This is the first time you’ve seen his face without their obstruction—and the first time you’ve ever seen his eyes.

His eyes are kind and warm. They glow amber brown like a glass of whiskey on the rocks, intoxicating you just as the smooth drink would.

“I still have two days, right?”

You saw his lips move, but the sound that came from them was muffled in your head as you’re entirely mesmerized by his eyes.

“Right?” he asserts, breaking you from your trance.

You blink your eyes a few times to bring yourself back to earth as your brain registers what he had said.

“What? Y– yes, you still have two days,” you say. “You know it’s not a required reading until later on in the semester, right? Why do you need it right now?”

“Maybe I wanted to get a head start,” he says while tossing it in his black leather satchel. “Maybe it’s not any of your business.” He swiftly gets up and walks away, leaving you completely frustrated yet again.

Your journey to your next class feels more like a rigorous trudge. You’re walking fast and hard, stomping your feet with each step as your anger towards Jake exudes through your body.

Not only are you pissed at his stupid fucking attitude, you’re pissed that you find him so damn attractive.

How could you possibly find someone like him appealing? Appealing to the eye, yes, but that’s where it stops. He’s a walking rain cloud hovering over you, stealing all the sunshine from your day in only a matter of a single class period.

You’re impatiently counting the days until this class– until this project– is over and done with so you can move on and live a peaceful existence.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

It’s just about time to close the library and you could not be more ready. The last few days have been incredibly draining. With homework piling up in heaps, multiple tests to study for and working nearly every night, your stress is at an all time high.

Thankfully, tomorrow is Saturday. This will be your first day off all week and you’re beyond ready for some much needed relaxation. You just need to get through these next five, excruciating minutes.

It’s been awfully quiet tonight and you’re grateful for it since you’re the only one working, but the lack of students has made the shift feel much longer than usual.

You glance up at the clock that says it’s two minutes until ten. Given you haven’t seen any signs of a student in hours, you figure it would be okay to go ahead and lock up a few minutes early.

Just as you're about to twist the lock on the bolt, someone from the other end hastily turns the knob and pushes open the door with great force, causing you to stumble backwards.

Standing before you with their overdue book in hand, and to your utter disgust, is Jake.

“We’re closed, Jake.”

He takes a few steps inside as he points behind you at the clock. “According to that, you’re still open for one more minute and I need to return my book.”

Of fucking course he waited until the literal last minute.

You want nothing more than to turn him away and tell him he’s shit out of luck, but technically, he’s right. He’s entered the building before closing and according to policy, you have to serve him.

Son of a bitch.

You bring your hand up to rub your forehead, trying to relieve some tension before you begin this process with him. “Follow me,” you say as you head back to the desk.

There’s an awkward silence lingering between you two as you sign into the computer, the only sound being his fingers tapping away at the desk as he impatiently waits for you.

“You could’ve just put it in the drop box outside, you know. They would’ve gotten it on Monday morning,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been late. I’m not letting you all charge yet another absurd late fee,” he retorts.

“You should’ve turned it in on time, then.”

You seem to have struck a nerve with him given the way his jaw clenched at your statement. You just can’t bring yourself to care– he’s the one forcing you to stay late when all you want to do is go home and go to bed.

You go through the return process as quickly as you can. You finish, giving him his copy of the document that states he brought the book back.

“Thanks,” he says. “Now I would like to check it back out, please.”

Are you fucking kidding.

You know he’s doing this just to spite you.

You throw your hands down on the keyboard, “Seriously? Why can’t you just come back on Monday?”

“Because I need it this weekend,” he claims.

“What could you possibly need it for?” Any semblance of patience you may have had left has officially walked out the door.

“Didn’t I tell you it was none of your business?”

You take a deep breath and push it back out in a long sigh. You just don’t have it in you to argue anymore, so you accept defeat and begin checking it back out to him.

You don’t say anything as you hand him a pen and the checkout slip for him to sign. He grabs the pen, looking at you with a slight guilt-ridden expression before giving his signature.

“I’m working on a film with my brother, and I need the book to help him write the script.” This is the first time you’ve ever noted a hint of sincerity in his voice. The features of his face have softened– you can tell this is important to him.

You flip delicately through the tattered and stained pages of the book. “I have my own copy of this out in my car,” you say. “I’ll just let you borrow mine. It’s in much better condition than this one, anyways.”

He agrees as you take the slip from under his fingers and crumple it, throwing it in the trash can under the desk. He waits a few minutes, letting you lock up.

Then, he follows closely behind you to your car to retrieve the book.

You bend at the waist to dig for the book in the mess of your backseat. When you do so, you hear him take a deep inhale, and then blow it out in an exhale.

Is he annoyed with you having to dig? Because he can get the fuck over it.

Just as you hear him clear his throat in impatience, you’ve found the book. You stand and hand him the book, annoyed with him and ready to leave. He thanks you, and you nod, bidding him a hasty ‘good night’… you’re just ready to get home.

He begins to walk away, but stops and turns back around to face you.

Fuck. You’d been so close to being in the car, on your way home. Dammit.

“This film my brother’s doing,” he says. “Its focus surrounds the adultery of Arthur and Guinevere. He asked me to help him, and I was thinking…” You nod your head to let him know to keep going. “Well, if we both helped him, we could use it for our project.”

Your interest is certainly piqued. “Yeah, that could work. I’ve written a few scripts and designed theoretical sets for a couple film electives before… so I could definitely do that.”

“He could use more help with all of that for sure, but what he really needs are actors, specifically ones to play Arthur and Guinevere. He’s been begging me to play Arthur and I agreed, but now he’s on my case about finding someone to play Guinevere and, well...” He gestures his arms towards you, signaling that he thinks you should play her.

“Um…,” you take a minute to figure out how to politely turn him down as you feel a blush rise to your cheeks. You’d never admit it, but just the mere thought of interacting with him so intimately in those roles has your stomach doing weird flips. “Jake… I– I don’t know about that. I’m much better behind the camera, acting just isn’t really my thing.”

“Just give it a try,” he insists. Why does he seem so adamant? Geez. “And if you hate it, you can do something else. But I think you’d be great at it, really.” He smiles at you, the first time you’ve seen a true, genuine smile from him.

Well, fuck.

You want to say no, you should say no. With how he’s treated you thus far, you don’t owe him anything. But– you can’t deny how it would help your project. And this project in Movack’s class… It's important to you. It would be fantastic to have it to back up your own project…

And, aside from that, his smile is making it awfully hard to turn him down right now.

If you were alone, you would have slapped your forehead at the utter chaos in your head, leading to your ultimate decision.

With a little hesitancy, you speak up, “I guess I could stop by. Feel out the role…”

His features seem to lift more at that. You pay it hardly any mind.

And with his final reply, his velvet-toned voice has a brand new, excited, air to it. “It’ll be really amazing, I promise.” Then, he chuckles, almost to himself. “It’ll definitely be interesting,” he shakes his head, a grin still lifting his cheek. “But really… I think it’ll be great. I know my brother and you will get along. He’s also one hell of a director.”

Minutes later, as you’re climbing into your driver's seat, you take a few minutes to sit in the silence of your car.

Trying your damnedest to block out the obnoxious fluorescent lighting of the parking lot, you stare through your windshield into the black night sky.

And when normally, the blanket of black would bring you a sense of peace and comfort, tonight it’s different. Tonight, you can’t help but feel a burgeoning sense of timidness as you fail to find answers to your new predicament in the night sky.

What in the hell had you just agreed to?

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @iffypanic @sinarainbows @klarxtr @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @livkiszka @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface

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love you all SO MUCH

Le Morte d’Arthur Masterlist

Masterlist

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fic #jake fic #jake kiszka #le morte d’arthur

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