#at least we have cherry trees now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

system-to-the-madness · 8 months ago

Text

Cherry Blossom Interventions 🌸 Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: hurt/comfort – angst to fluff Word Count: 3 271 Warnings: SPOILER for up to chapter 253, suicidal tendencies and implications (Megumi), mentions of death and depression Summary: Megumi has drawn back from everyday life completely, so you intervene A/N: Sorry for the late post; life happened. Played volleyball with friends, went to eat sushi, went running with the same friends, went to Maces, and then to a foot Onsen.

Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist

"Why am I here?"

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to Megumi. He was standing underneath a cherry blossom tree when a cool breeze of spring air swept through his hair, carrying pink petals that caught in his black strands. His hair was shorter than it had been in autumn; not by much but the difference was still noticeable. You wondered whether he had cut it to not resemble the version of himself Sukuna had turned him into.

“You know why you are here,” you answered him, ignoring the frown on his brow. “This is an intervention.”

“What kind of intervention,” he asked back, clearly starting to get upset.

“What kind of intervention do you think it is?”

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested.” Megumi was already turning away from you again when you called out for him.

“We are worried,” you told him, almost shouting.

He just scoffed.

“Who is we?”

“Yūji, me, Toge, Maki, Yūta” you replied. “Panda, too, and Ieiri-sensei. Ever since December, ever since that last fight. Do you think we don’t know what's been going on with you? Do you think we don't know you've been skipping therapy and meals. We know you're just holed up in your room the whole day. We know you don't want to be here; you don't want to be with us anymore-”

“Then why can't you let me be?”

His shout made you flinch, but you had faced scarier things than an upset classmate.

“Because we care,” you shouted back. “We care too much to let you ruin your life like this! Don't misunderstand: We are not making light of the situation you were in - you are in. We understand that none of us could ever possibly imagine the things you have gone through, but you cannot ask us to let our friend die, who we fought so hard to save. You can't ask that of us!”

Megumi just rolled his eyes. “And what about what I want? What about the things I want,” he asked.

“For once, you don't get to say in this,” you shook your head. “It's not much we demand of you. We want you to eat properly. We know you haven't. We want you to step outside at least once a week, doesn't have to be long, just sit in the sun for a few minutes. That's all we ask. Or open your window, it's been barricaded since you moved back in in January. And go to your therapy sessions. We know you have them scheduled and we know you've been skipping them. You can't expect to get better if you don't go to these sessions.”

“And what if I don't want to get better?”

“That's not an option. I told you: For once you don't get to say in this.”

Megumi stared at you from between the falling cherry blossom petals that were carried down to the ground by the wind. You could see in his eyes that right now, in this moment in time, he thought he hated you. You just had to hope he didn't actually feel that way. If he did, you did you definitely would have been the wrong choice to have this conversation with him.

It had been quite a debate between the second years, Yūji, and you about who should talk to Megumi. You even considered asking Ieiri-sensei about being the one to talk to him, but in the end, everyone agreed it would be best if it were you. They were convinced you were the one he trusted the most, the one he liked the best. At least those were the others’ arguments. You weren't sure how true they held, now that he stared at you as if he wished you were to drop dead to the floor.

“All right,” Megumi sighed. “I'll oblige to your demands under one condition: Give me one good reason why I should continue fighting. But keep in mind: my mother is dead. My father is dead, killed by the man who raised me, the man who – although he is not my father – is the closest thing I've ever had to one, the man who I had to watch being killed by my own hands. My sister is dead, also killed by me. What do I live for? Give me one good reason.”

You stared back at Megumi watching the hatred in his eyes. It was obvious he didn't believe you had any idea what he was going through.

Truthfully, you didn't. Your situation was nothing like his, and you never had been in a situation like this before nor would you ever be, but that didn't mean you didn't know all the facts he just listed. His father, his mother, his sister, and Gojō-sensei, all the people he ever might have considered family, were gone, along with so many others. And in a large part he blamed himself for it.

It was not his fault, how could it have been his fault, when it had been Sukuna, who had possessed his body. But you supposed having to watch your own body commit such terrors, having to watch as your hands took life after life, unable to interfere, unable to save his friends and family, unable to do anything but watch them all being slaughtered… it wasn’t surprising he blamed himself.

“Gojō’s in a coma, one he might never wake back up from, and it's nobody's fault but mine. Do you really believe I can live in a world like that?”

You wanted to disagree with him, tell him that it was not his fault, that he was not the one to blame, that as long as you all stuck together, there was still hope, but you knew better than to do so. Instead, you started with what he had demanded of you.

“You want me to give you a reason to keep on living,” you asked. “Gojō-sensei is not dead. As you said he's in a coma. Ieiri-sensei has been working on him every day. As far as we know he might wake up any day now.”

Megumi shook his head. “You really believe that,” he asked, “if you’re really believing that, you are more naïve than I believed you to be.” He sounded disappointed.

“Not naïve,” you disagreed. “Hopeful.”

“Same thing.”

“But let's assume for one moment Gojō were to wake back up,” you continued the train of thought before Megumi could derail it again. “Wouldn’t you want to be there? Wouldn’t you want to see him again, talk to him again?”

“You’re dealing in probabilities; probabilities are not good enough. Give me something tangible.”

You blinked. You had really thought he would give in at Gojō. So, what were you to say now?

“A stary sky then,” you offered. “To go star gazing the way we did last summer. On a blanket, out in front of the school, sharing snacks and drinks.”

Megumi scuffed.

“Another sunrise,” you continued. “Pinks and reds and oranges dying the clouds, a new day with new possibilities-”

“New suffering? Not good enough.”

“A puppy’s fur under your fingertips, these sharp, tiny teeth burying in your skin.”

“And what for?” Before you could answer, he kept going. “All my life I’ve tried to form relationships, be close to people I care about, and all my life they left me. One after the other. So what good is another stary sky, another sunrise, a puppy’s fur underneath my fingertips, if I don’t have anyone to share it with? It’s not good enough.”

A part of your mind was still hung up on the thought that it was probably better for Megumi to blame the dead for being dead than himself, but you quickly answered.

“You have us,” you told him, taking a careful step forward. “Maki, Toge, Panda, Yūta.”

His ocean blue eyes glimmered as he fully turned towards you as if he was waiting for something specific.

“You have Yūji.”

His shoulders sacked, and he looked away.

“Not good enough. They’re all gonna leave eventually.”

“I won’t,” you disagreed. “I’m not gonna leave. I made you a promise when we entered Shibuya together, that I’d always be there, and I don’t plan on breaking that promise.”

Megumi shook his head, biting his lips, still not looking at you.

“You’ll be there,” he asked, sounding disbelieving. “For every stary sky, every sunset. Every meal, walk, therapy session.”

“Yes.” Your reply was unwavering.

“You don’t even know what that means,” Megumi sighed, finally looking back up to you, but now he seemed rather sad than angry. As if the scenarios he had painted were what he wanted but were too far out of reach to even attempt to grasp them. “I’m sick. My mind- I’m broken. Something inside my head is broken and I don’t know if it will ever heal again, and if it does, if it heals right. A promise like you’re offering… it wouldn’t just be for the next days or weeks. It might be months, years, hell, it might be decades of me trying to shut my self away, of nightmares, therapy, being unable to laugh or feel anything other than this pitch-black darkness. You can’t promise me you’ll be strong enough to be there. I don’t doubt that you have the strength to see me through all this, I know you do. But there will be times when it will seem as if I’d be okay, and you’ll be hopeful, but when I have a bad phase again- It would hurt you, and I can’t hurt any more of my friends.”

“And you think the way you’re behaving right now is hurting nobody? Megumi, I won’t promise that I’ll always be there. I can’t. I’m still a sorcerer, I still have to go to missions, and am in danger every time I go. But I will be there for you for as long as I can and for as long and often as you want me to be.”

“For every stary sky?”

“And every sunrise.”

“Every meal?”

“If that’s what you want, yes. And for every walk, and if you want me to, I’ll even wait outside the therapist’s office for you.”

Megumi averted his gaze, staring at a spot right in front of your feet.

“Why? Why would you do that? What do you get in return?”

Carefully you took a step forward. “Because I care about you Megumi. And even though it might seem selfless, getting to be there for you, supporting you, trying to help you to get back to your feet, getting to watch you fight to get better, being with you through all this, is actually a very selfish act.”

Megumi looked back up, his eyes scanning your face for a moment.

“Can you hug me,” he asked, voice quiet over the wind in the branches above you.

“Of course,” you smiled and slowly crossed the last distance between you, wrapping your arms around him. He seemed to melt into the touch, almost fragile, his body moving closer to yours until his whole front was flatly pressed against yours, his face buried against the side of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek and ear. You held him tight, not too tight, so he still could breathe without effort, but tight enough for him to feel how serious you were with everything you had offered.

“I’m just scared of ending up alone again,” he whispered. “And I can’t lose you too. You’re too important to me.”

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered back, rubbing his back through the thick fabric of his oversized hoodie.

“What if you die?”

“I won’t. And if I do, I’ll come back as a curse, like Rika.”

The sound of a small chuckle surprised you, but you quickly held Megumi tighter, hoping to engrave the sound into your memory forever.

Before you could say anything else, Megumi’s phone started ringing. You stiffened up, ready to pull away, but Megumi kept you close.

“Aren’t you going to answer,” you asked, hesitantly wrapping your arms back around him.

“No,” he replied.

“What if it’s important?”

“How important can it be,” Megumi shrugged. “Not more important than this, anyway.”

After a while the ringing stopped, and Megumi slowly loosened his hold on you. Carefully pulling away, you came face to face with him.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“What for?”

“Everything. I… I tend to lose sight of the good things in life and let the darkness swallow me whole.”

Taking a step back, you reached out your hand for him to take. Questioningly he raised his eyebrows at you but placed his hand in yours.

“Now you won’t get lost in the darkness,” you told him with a smirk, making him roll his eyes.

“That’s too cheesy for me,” he shook his head.

“Oh, don’t start laughing now, Fushiguro,” you cried. “I saw that! The corner of your mouth was twitching!”

“It wasn’t! That’s annoyance at how cheesy you were being!”

He only kept his expression in check for another second before he burst out laughing. Using your intertwined hands, he pulled you back into a hug, this one more casual than the first. When his phone started ringing again, both of you ignored it.

After you had calmed down from the laughter, Megumi’s eyes fixed themselves on your face, watching you as were catching your breath.

“Can I kiss you,” he suddenly asked, making you freeze in your motion.

Surprised you looked at him, your heart seeming to miss a few beats, but then you nodded your head, and a moment later his lips were on yours, soft, a little chapped, but gentle. It was a sweet kiss, nothing too extravagant, and still enough to steal your breath and make you weak in your knees.

It was perfect, you suddenly realized, kissing Megumi like his. Around you, cherry blossom petals were floating on a warm spring breeze, birds were singing in the branches above you, and Megumi’s arms were warm and secure around you while his heart beat a firm rhythm underneath your fingers, somewhat too fast for a normal heartbeat, but then again yours was probably racing too.

The perfect moment got interrupted by yet another ring of Megumi’s phone.

“I think you should answer it,” you mumbled against his lips. “It’s probably really something important.”

Megumi sighed but pulled away enough to grab his phone out of his pocket.

“It’s just Yūji,” he rolled his eyes, but before he could answer the call, the ringing stopped again.

He shrugged, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

“I got a question,” he suddenly declared.

“Ask away.”

“You said: another stary sky, another sunrise, and…” he hesitated for a moment before continuing. “a puppy’s fur underneath my fingertips. Where do you plan to get me a puppy from?” He sounded amused, but you knew him good enough to know that he would do hell of a lot to play with a puppy sometime soon.

“Okay, here’s the thing.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yūji and I were thinking, for a while now.”

“That can’t be a good sign,” Megumi sighed. “What crazy idea did you two come up with now?”

“I’m gonna ignore that low-key insult, and let you live” you announced, “But do you know Principal Yaga’s friend, the one who had all these dogs?”

Megumi nodded, clearly hesitant about whether or not he really wanted to know what Yūji and you had come up with.

“So, one of the dogs had puppies a few weeks back and we were thinking that it might be good to adopt one of them, for our year. We’ve been talking to the teachers and thinking things through and if all of us take turns caring for it, it won’t be too much responsibility all at once. And it would give us some sort of stability, having to go on walks on regular hours, playing, teaching it commands… but there’d also someone to keep us company when we don’t feel so good, someone who can’t give us advice, but also won’t ask questions either. Someone who accepts us as we are, no matter how good we are in school or whatever. So… yeah, the puppy is already old enough to be separated from its mother and is moving in next Friday.”

Megumi stared at you.

“You adopted a puppy,” he asked incredulously.

“We adopted a puppy,” you corrected. “Yeah.”

“And we‘ll share responsibility for it?”

You nodded, and Megumi’s eyes suddenly grew hard.

“I don’t know that dog yet, but I’ll fight you for custody after graduation,” he declared, making your eyes widen.

Graduation. That was still three years away, the furthest Megumi had talked about the future since November.

Swallowing your surprise, you shrugged. “That’s okay with me.”

“But wait,” Megumi suddenly stopped. “Before the puppy arrives, we need all kinds of stuff. It won’t be like with Shiro and Kuro, it’ll need a basket, and bowls and a leash! I think we’ll need several baskets, so we don’t have to carry them around all the time. And food! We need special-”

He was interrupted by the ringing of a mobile phone, this time yours.

“Yūji,” you told him, showing him the screen on which a picture of your pink haired classmate had popped up.

“Let’s answer it,” Megumi sighed. “He’ll just keep calling otherwise.”

You had barely pressed the green button to answer the call, when Yūji’s voice was already sounding from the small speaker, loud enough that you didn’t even have to put your ear to it.

“Megumi isn’t answering his phone,” Yūji all but screamed. “I’ve tried calling him dozens of times but he’s not answering! I’m really worried! We need to-”

“Yūji, Yūji, calm down!” Quickly you interrupted your panicking friend, pressing the speaker button so Megumi could listen in. “He’s with me, he’s fine, we were talking a walk.”

On the other side silence spread out.

“And you didn’t call dozens of times, you called three times,” Megumi added, leaning down to the speaker.

On the other end, a small “oh” was audible.

“So, what’s so important that you decided to terrorize Megumi via phone calls,” you asked, shooting Megumi a glance.

His eyebrows were furrowed, and it was not hard to tell that he had only now realized just how worried his friends were about him, how much they cared about him. Enough to send ever cheerful Yūji into something akin to a panic attack just because he hadn’t answered his phone for a few minutes.

“I didn’t terrorize him,” Yūji protested.

“You kinda did, but whatever. What’s going on?”

“You guys need to come to the hospital wing asap,” Yūji told you.

Megumi and you exchanged glances. The hospital wing? That wasn’t good. Megumi took your hand in his and started walking back the way you had come.

��We’re on our way,” you told Yūji, “What’s going on? Who got hurt?”

“Nobody,” Yūji sounded like he was running himself now, slightly out of breath. “Gojō-sensei’s awake.”

And with that he ended the call.

Megumi and you were both so surprised about the message, that you came to a slithering halt. Gojō was awake? Sure, you had told Megumi it was a possibility, that he might wake up soon, but you had not believed it to actually, really happen at all.

For a short moment Megumi and you looked at each other,f inding your own surprise and relief mirrored on his face. And then you took off running, taking the quickest way to the hospital wing, your hands intertwined.

189 notes · View notes

multific · 8 months ago

Text

Sweet Tooth

Willy Wonka x PlusSize!Reader

Willy watched you walk into his shop for the third time that week.

You looked around nervously.

People around you kept shopping, not paying attention, but he did.

And just like the days before, you suddenly left his store.

You caught the attention of the young chocolatier about a month ago.

You looked around nervously, while you kept staring at the windows of the shop. It took you a month just to enter, Willy can only imagine how long it will take you to buy something.

So, he decided to do something about it.

---

"Be good now! I will get my new dress and we go home!"

"Of course, Mom." you smiled at your mother as she went into the shop.

You immediately headed to the Wonka store.

You bit your lip out of nervousness before entering.

You promised yourself, much like many times before, that this time you will buy a chocolate.

But each time, you ended up nervously walking around before leaving.

But this time, it only took you five minutes to actually enter the store. Many people were inside, you blended in pretty well.

Or at least you thought you did, a certain chocolatier definitely noticed your presence. You looked up at the beautiful cherry tree before moving to the shelves.

No one would know if you just bought one.

Just one.

That's all.

And yet, you were afraid.

You kept staring but not moving, people around you bought whatever they wanted, but not you.

Suddenly a beautiful rose was in your face and you stumbled for a moment, your focus shifting from the rose to the man holding it.

Mr Wonka himself.

"Try it, it is delicious." he simply said and you took the rose from him.

"Wouldn't it be a shame to eat something so beautiful?"

"The shame, My Lady, would be to let the chocolate melt without tasting it."

"You might be right, but I truly mustn't," you argue suddenly looking at the watch on the wall. You still had some time left.

"Why not? Chocolate is good for the soul."

"My parents would argue." your eyes suddenly snapped back at him, realizing that you have definitely overshared. "Sorry." you simply said before running out of the store, with your rose still in your hands.

You weren't sure how, but you managed to hide the rose from your parents and hid it in your room.

Hoping it would never melt.

But you also didn't eat it.

A couple of days later, however, you visited the shop and once again, Mr Wonka came up to you with a box of chocolates.

"I must say Mr. Wonka, your pretty rose seems to melt rather fast."

"I must create something other than! The perfect chocolate which doesn't melt even when you hold it in the summer! But if I may ask, why didn't you just eat it?"

"My parents don't want me to eat sweets. You see I have a sweet tooth... and it is very apparent." you gestured at your figure.

"I don't see any problems with your figure, if anything I believe you are quite charming."

"Thank you." you felt the heat in your face and hoped he didn't realize how his compliment affected you.

"Just try one. I made them specially for you. With a hint of cherry." you took one of the chocolates from his box and popped it into your mouth.

"Oh wow." your eyes shined as you looked into his eyes. "This is wonderful!" the taste of pure chocolate with the hint of cherry and there was something else... something you couldn't quite point out, but it reminded you of your childhood, of happiness. Your grandma, the cakes he used to bake for you. "Thank you, Mr Wonka, it was delicious."

"Please, call me Willy." he smiled and you smiled back at him.

You didn't know then, but it was the start of something amazing.

After that day, you were no longer scared to enter his store, nor did you care about what your parents said.

Chocolate is where your happiness was.

The first time Willy brought you to his factory, you felt truly amazed.

It looked like such a happy place.

"I made this, just for you, I plan on launching them on Valentine's Day." you looked at the pink box in his hands, another colourful creation.

"What do you mean... made it for me?"

"You inspire me so much. I made this with all of your favourite things as a way to... to show you my feelings." you took one chocolate out of the box and popped it into your mouth. As you bit down, you immediately felt the feeling of pure joy. "The first time I ever laid my eyes on you, I still recall how stunned I was... such a beauty in my store. I felt like I was dreaming. And now, here I am, declaring my love, giving you not just this box but my heart as well. Will you take it and accept my feelings?"

Why did you feel like you already knew the answer? The doubt you had deep down, suddenly felt to have disappeared.

"I love you too, Willy." you smiled as fireworks went out around you, and he pulled you in for a simple yet meaningful kiss.

"It seems like, my love for chocolate, gave me the love of my life." he said and you smiled from ear to ear.

Chocolate is where your love was.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#Willy Wonka x PlusSize!Reader #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka x you #willy wonka x oc #willy wonka imagines #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka 2023 #x reader #x female reader #fanfiction #x chubby reader #reader insert #x you #fem reader

388 notes · View notes

ataraxiaspainting · 8 months ago

Text

Hayloft.

Yan Mahito x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Mahito wants to farm.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, Mahito as his own warning, implied minor character death, and implications of violence/forced cannibalism.

Word Count: 800.

*~*~*~*

“Sounds fun! Looks so too!”

Mahito’s fingers tap and tap on the glass, unsurprisingly never leaving any fingerprints or smudges. He is a curse, after all. It makes sense. Not that you have to be reminded of such, with how little he knows of human culture, the world at large, or with how much he shapeshifts into a disembodied head at night to scare half-awake you.

You are both sitting on a giant bean bag in the shape of a green slime of all things that Mahito brought in an hour or so earlier. Mahito, as expected, takes up most of it with a malformed arm wrapped around your shoulders and back.

In your hands is a Nintendo Switch, the sticker case on the joycons, and the screen itself somewhat peeling off, but still the pink bunny and strawberry drawing designs stay intact.

The YouTube app is on, showing a playthrough of Stardew Valley. This part of the sewers had two bars of wifi from the little ramen place above it, something you are grateful for in some aspect. Because of it, you have one more piece of entertainment that is now Mahito bringing you back stale snacks and stuffed animals (that you pray to whatever higher power that they were not alive before Mahito got his hands on them) and nearly smothering you with hugs.

This is calming. When you just read the dialogue of the characters and listen to the music and pay attention to the satisfying sight of the farmer planting pumpkin seeds and apple tree saplings, it is calming, you are calm, Mahito is, at least partially, calm.

Mahito wanted something to watch today and brought the Nintendo Switch for you to play with as he simply observes. It could be worse, you reminded yourself before you attempted to protest, stopping yourself. It could be much worse. He could turn you into the Nintendo Switch, or much, much worse.

It can be so much worse. He can be so much worse. Your life as a captive can be so much worse. Everything can be so much worse. That is a line you never want to cross because everything can be so, so much worse than it already is.

Mahito raises his free hand, and you pause the video, just as you were taught to. He then points again at the field of two-dimensional, square-like crops all in multiple rows of hoed soil.

It’s springtime in the game, you think, from how the cherry trees have pink blossoms and petals falling onto nearby ground all around it.

Mahito counts with his fingertip, jumping from one plant to the next and then from one row to the next.

He whistles, and it makes you flinch because that is the same noise he makes whenever you scream, a reaction to when he brings a body part of someone you loved here, throwing it down beside the small dog bed you were given for good behavior, the blood staining the fabric as it falls with a grotesque, sort of plopping sound.

If Mahito wants to grow vegetables and fruit in the few places this sewer has sunlight, he can be your guest.

“Potato, cauliflower, garlic… green beans, kale, parsnips, rhubarb, strawberries…” He says each word like he has never heard of them before. Considering he has never really set foot in a grocery or convenience store for anything other than chips, it is not all that surprising. With another wave of his hand, you rewind it to the moment where the farmer character starts watering the seeds when they are freshly planted. He waits. So do you. “Sounds good! We can make some cheese cauliflower, parsnip soup, pizza, hashbrowns… just imagine it! Yum… I can just picture it now.”

With yet another wave of his hand, you stand up and so does he. Relief goes through you, like a ghost, both horrifying you and making you feel the smallest bit of hope that for once Mahito can act normal.

…

“M-Mahito, vegetables don’t grow that fast.” You say, looking down at the plate of baked fish with what smells like kale and garlic underneath, along with lemon and salt. “H-How-”

“It’s simply the power of love!” Mahito exclaims, inhaling loudly to smell the dish in front of you two. He sighs softly. “A pure demonstration of my love, all I do for you, and all I will do for you in the future.”

You could have sworn that there was the smallest voice from the fish if Mahito’s bragging of how much work went into making you a dish from Stardew Valley was not so loud.

Help me.

“Dig in, cutie!”

You would do anything for Mahito’s grin to not turn into a frown, so you pick up your fork with trembling, scarred hands.

#aya abstractions #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere mahito x reader #yandere mahito #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #mahito x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic

151 notes · View notes

volturiprincess · 3 months ago

Text

Cheri Cheri Lady

Felix Volturi x fem human reader

Summary: Cherry pie making with the gentle giant Warnings: foul language, a bit of sexual tension, mention of a delusional child, fluff and I think thats it? A/N: This one right here has to be my favorite one, its just cute and I loved working on it, I started it before I left for my trip and wanted to finish it before but I'm glad I didn't because I was enjoying writing this one to much. I always add a bit of myself in my writings, like some of the things I add for dialogue is things I have said or heard or the inspiration to write are things I went through or saw. My biggest inspiration for this one were two things; one I did made a cherry pie a couple of weeks ago and two by the song "Cheri Cheri lady" by Modern Talking. Anyways.....Enjoy💙

Word Count: 2.5k+

(Fuck why is he so fine??? Oh to be approach by him like this😩)

The summer days in Volterra are one of my favorite times of the year, first being winter. I am able to lay out in the sun for hours without the fear of having to run inside for warmth. I could watch the sky that is filled with the fluffiest of clouds and try to spot any recognizable shapes. There was a time I managed to spot a little duckie with my darling of a mate. He spotted a baby on that same day. I don't know if that was a hint or something but it made me blush at his discovery. That day we spent talking about our delusional baby, we decided to have a girl who would have been named Flor. We somehow got into a small argument about how we would react when our ‘daughter’ introduced us to her spouse. I would be warm and welcoming while Felix would be full on cold and distant because ‘no one will ever be enough for my little princess”.

We don't always do that, we like to switch it up once in a while, I noticed lately that Felix likes to do domestic things with me. As of now me and him have our hands interlocked while I lead him into the Volturi’s fruit trees. It’s odd how they have a whole section in their garden just dedicated to fruit trees. They have all kinds there; apples, pears, guava, oranges, plums, and the one i'm currently searching for, cherries. I have been craving cherry pie for a while so I convinced Felix to come with me to pick them out and then we will spend a majority of the day creating this sweet treat. He of course would never question me or even say no, heck he would even let me dye his hair pink if I asked. My sweet loving mate.

We continued our little stroll through the trees, not all of the fruit has bloomed its flowers still linger in the trees. With the small breeze it would weave through the trees, releasing the remaining flowers from its branch and it would land all around me and Felix.

We found the tree we needed, and it was glorious. I haven't had the time to come and witness it in person but Master Caius' endless paintings of the trees were pretty accurate. But there was a small issue, all the branches were a whole foot taller than me, Felix could easily grab but not me for sure. I looked at the mentioned giant who was already looking at me with a smug smirk.

“Is there an issue little rose?”

I pout at his comment because he obviously sees my dilemma.

“Put that pout away doll, now come here”

I walk over to him and I see that he is getting down on his knees. Deciding to joke with him since he bullied me earlier I said to him “Wow there, take me out on a date first at least” I covered my mouth to hold in my laughter but he beat me to it.

“Doll I have pretty much taken you all over Italy at this rate and don't even get me started on our late passionate nights”

I blush at his comment and he gives me his infamous shark like grin. “Now don't make me repeat myself come here”

I hurried to get behind him and he helped me get on to his muscular broad shoulders, that I would so like to munch on if I could. Once I was settled and comfortable enough he rose up to his full height. And I got to say, the weather is nice up here. I feel like I can reach the sky now or I can grab a star like an apple. So this is the tall life that I've been missing out on? It's nice but I like the short life because I can look up at my hunk of a mate and he can look down at me with his cute little smile.

“Earth to my little mate”

“Oh sorry mi vida, the tall life got to me for a minute, what were you saying?”

I giggled in embarrassment thinking he would tease me but he responded with a small chuckle “No worries tesoro , I just asked where do you want to start?”

I quickly scanned the area and spotted a thick branch with the richest looking cherries, they were these dark red, juicy looking orbs. The sunlight was even hitting them like a spotlight, these will be perfect for the pie.

“Those one’s right there”

He held onto my thighs while I held onto my small basket. When he got to the area I was eyeing I started to grab them.

“Here let me hold your basket pitufina”

I handed him the basket to his outstretched hand and paused for a minute at his nickname.

“Did you just call me pitufina?”

“I did”

He didn't even hesitate to answer me either, in a sarcastic voice I answer him “Wow what a darling you are”

“Well it's not like its not true, you're literally sitting on my shoulders because you were to short to reach the cherries”

“Well yeah but I mean your just abnormally tall, and by the way I didnt even know you knew that word”

“Pitufina? Well I needed to do some research and I might of heard it when you were watching ‘Smurfs’ in Spanish the other day”

I started to pick cherries again and continued to talk to him “Mmm but my skin is not blue”

“Well obviously but your short like a smurf”

I love his humor “You know what, Demetri would never hurt my feelings by pointing out my shortness, at least he calls me cara and that's nice compared to pitufina”

“Oh well sweet Demetri is not here to compliment you”

I mumbled as I continued to pick more cherries to fill my basket.

“Your adorable when you mumble, and by the way I can hear everything your saying too so watch that mouth of yours or else”

“Or else what? Gonna ground me or something”

“No its either between a punishment I will enjoy or no Demetri”

I stop picking mid reach “WHAT! Oh that’s just crossing the line, how can you say such a thing, he’s my best friend, we bond over shopping, who’s going to do that with me now?”

“You have Heidi”

“Well yea but how can you take away my sweet Demetri like that, I need both Heidi and Demetri to go shopping”

“Well watch your mouth and there won't be an issue then”

“Fine, man your on fire today with the sass but I love it”

He laughed at my comment “Of course you do”

I eventually, after our bickering, filled my basket with the pretties of cherries I found. Felix set me down gently and he held the basket while I clung to his arm. Oh his arms, how I admire them so much. The way it seems his arms fit perfectly around me, as if his arms were meant to be around me, maybe it’s true because we are mates after all. I swear everytime I see him after training the newborns with Demetri, his arms look more muscular than usual. I don't know if I'm just imagining things but I can guarantee you Felix's arm was not the size of a tree trunk when I first saw him. Or maybe it was, honestly when I saw him all I could focus on was his sweet smile, it was nothing I have ever witnessed, there's no other words to describe it but sweet. Sometimes he will flash me his canines, and I can say they are not fangs, the disappointment I faced when I found out vampires don't actually have fangs. Nevertheless Felix is everything I could ever ask for, I sometimes question myself how I got so fortunate to have someone like him in my life, and to think we have forever.

“Earth again to my little love?”

I blink a couple of times to clear my mind from my endless thoughts on my lovely mate and look up at him with a confused look. Has he been talking to me this whole time since we left the gardens? Wait, how are we in the kitchen already?

“You've been pretty distracted lately doll, what's happening in that pretty little head of yours?”

I chuckled nervously at his observation “I was thinking about you”

“When are you not”

I slap his arm playfully while he laughs at my failed attempt to ‘harm’ him. Cocky son of a bitch, the day when I am turned I will make sure I kick his ass but at the same time I don't think I could actually fight him, it might go a whole other way if I get my hands on him.

“Well you are my lover, want me to think about other people?” before he could interrupt me I decided to tease him “Maybe I should think about Demetri, I seen he has changed his hairstyle lately, and he looks absolutely gorgeous as always, or I could think about Alec, I noticed he is growing his hair out, I need to witness that version of Alec for my own sake”

I didn't even realize as soon as I was done talking I was pinned against the wall and he was looking down at me with his infamous smirk that I love so much.

“Are we done talking now? Or you want to hit at Master Caius too? Hmmm?” He tilted his head at an angle to toy with me. I gulped nervously which only made his smirk widen more as if that were even possible, it was me versus him, him and I, a prey and a predator, a little lamb and a big bad wolf. We had our gazes glued onto each other, we didn't even look away from each other when Demetri waltz in saying

“Hey guys I don't smell pi- oh damn, pardon my presence” and not even when he ran off screaming for Heidi. Felix finally pulled away and instead of his smirk, he flashed me with his cute smile

“Don't we have a pie to make, little rose?”

I nodded, unable to form words yet from his earlier action and scrambled to get the ingredients for the crust out. He decided to sit on the island to watch me and to be there in case I need his help. He looked adorable sitting there, such a big guy and here he is swinging his feet, watching me with his adorable little smile. Why must he be such a cutie patootie, how can this same vampire be also the executor? Literally right now he looks harmless like a kitten, where is the wolf that was close to devouring me on the spot just minutes ago? And I thought Alec was bipolar, news flash it's Felix.

As I was rolling out the dough I felt a small breeze and then pain in my eye.

“Owww my poor little human eye, Felix you son of a bitch you got flour in my eye, owww”

I dropped the rolling pin and was about to blindly search for the sink when I felt another small breeze and was met once again with relief. I blink a couple of times to be met with intense wine red eyes who had the most playful look. I had my eyes narrowed at him while he laughed wholeheartedly. How can I be mad at him when his laugh is the most contagious laugh I have heard? I smiled slightly which only caused him to laugh more

“There it is” He pulled me into his arms to kiss the top of my head “I'm sorry doll, I didn't mean to get it into your eyes but…”

“But what?”

“What did I say about cursing?”

Shit. I'm done for.

“Um only in the bedroom”

“Exactly, I'll let it slide for now since you were pain but next time I won't”

I nod but continue to snuggle into him, whenever he has his arms wrapped around me like this, I feel so protected and safe. He basically has me in a cocoon, there was one time Alec and Jane didn't realize I was in Felix arms and they started to ask him about some grotesque thing that left me traumatized.

“You need to finish that pie doll come on I will help and no more flour play”

“I better not suffer from flour in eyes again mi vida, that did hurt, my eyes were burning”

“And I said I'm sorry already, at least I stop the pain, no?”

“Well yeah but just don't do it again”

“How bout I do this instead”

I saw him reach around me and he dabbed his finger on the remaining flour on the table and bopped my nose with it. I smiled softly again and returned the act instantly. We both started to giggle at our state until he turned me around so I was facing my unfinished pie.

After 6 hours of baking, it took longer than usual because someone could not keep their hands to themselves, the pie was finished. It smelled amazing and it came out beautiful. Felix is weirdly perfect in doing a weave, I didn't even have to show him how, he even managed to add little rose designs to it (in honor of me).

“I think it's too pretty to eat”

“Well I eat you frequently and I always think your to pretty to eat also”

I blush profoundly at his very vulgar statement, he has such a dirty mouth sometimes. I shy away from him from embarrassment and cover my face to hide my red face.

“Hey now, don't shy away, you never get shy in mentioned acts”

“FELIX!?”

He snorts at my outburst “You cannot deny it little love”

“Still, what if someone hears you”

“Love? Demetri has seen you naked before, even though he vowed to never bring it up to you, he has also heard those cute little noises you make”

I snap my gaze at him and stare at him like a fish out of water, damn no wonder Demetri wiggles his eyebrows at me whenever he sees me in the mornings.

I turn away and look at the pie again and back to him “Is that what you and him talk about then, me?”

“Always”

“Wow, i can't wait to be turned so I can kick yours and Demetris ass, maybe Jane will help me too”

His smile dropped and he clutched his chest and dramatically exclaimed “You would want to see your own mate in pain? I thought you loved me? I thought you couldn't bear to see me in pain?”

“Well with the things you put me though I might need Alec too”

“Damn betrayed by my own love of my life”

I chuckled at his theatrics.

“I love you my dramatic amor”

“I love you too pitufina”

Yes this is the life I can't wait to live for eternity with him, my sweet loving mate who has a secret teddy bear side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little translation:

Amor: Love

Mi vida: My life

Pitufina: a nickname for someone who is short or it actually translate to smurfette

#felix volturi #the volturi #felix volturi x reader #felix volturi imagine #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight saga #volturi

65 notes · View notes

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

a/n: let me know if you'd like to be tagged, or follow this link to be added. 🤍

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

245 notes · View notes

starry-eyed-wild-child · 3 months ago

Text

~ the way she tells me i'm hers, and she is mine ~

kappa x reader

a/n: whoooo! It's finally back, pookies! I'm so, so sorry that I haven't updated this in a while - life has been exciting and hectic to say the least! Yes, I used one of Kappa's quotes in this, sue me.

summary: after the eventful weekend with your family, all you can do is wait for your cult leader to come home to you

warnings: SMUT (mdni), unprotected sex, breeding kink, swearing, slight religious imagery (sorry to my church), my first ever smut, yikes

taglist: @ithinkitstimetonap @greenxgloss @angelsanarchy

The night air carried a gentle breeze, brushing against you like a sweet caress - sitting outside in your garden, sipping on a mug of herbal tea. The breeze was a sweet contrast - the chill on your skin and the warmth of the mug in your hands. The music from your record player washed over you, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

Kappa saw you. Wanting so badly to come and sit with you. To touch you. Though the fear of your family still lingering about held him back. His eyes fixated on you in an almost painful longing.

You heard a twig snap in the distance, making you jump. How cliche, you thought. You held your mug further to your chest, closing the door of your garden behind you as you went inside. With a sigh of relief, you watched as Kappa sauntered from behind the bushes.

Kappa emerged from behind the tree, his eyes wide and curious when he saw you turn around.

"Scared me to death." you giggled, opening the doors to let him in. "You want a warm drink?" you offered, walking into the kitchen.

Kappa stepped through into your home, his heart racing with excitement and anticipation. He felt the warmth of your home envelope him, pushing away the bitter chill of the night. He smiled at your offer, but shook his head 'no'.

"I have a door, y'know, no need to go lurking around my bushes like a creep." you teased, sitting down on the living room floor.

Kappa chuckled at your remark, tilting his head to the side as he watched you sit on the floor, an almost predatory look in his eyes. As you sat down, he followed suit, sitting across from you and staring at you intently.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." he joked, a hint of amusement in his words.

"Not like I'm not happy to see you... but what are you doing here? You can't keep leaving the family like this." you asked, concerned about how often Kappa seemed to leave them unattended.

Kappa sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping over as he ran a hand over his face.

"I know... I know I shouldn't leave them like this.... but how else would I see my girl, sugar?" he smirked, shifting closer to you on the floor, his fingers teasing the skin of your inner thighs. "It's a lot sometimes... I think I deserve an escape every now and then hm?"

"I understand... I think..." you said, trying to find the right words, "I mean... I don't. I'm not a cult leader..." you snickered, "But I want to try and understand... to help."

Kappa nodded, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "I have to maintain order... I have the weight of responsibility. Sometimes... I get so caught up."

"Well... we don't want that now, do we?" you hummed, placing a soft kiss on his ear, trailing them down to his jaw. "Can't have you forgetting who you are." you murmured, holding onto his shoulders.

"No." he whispered, his voice low and hot in your ear, "No, we don't want that."

You took another moment, sighing deeply before your eyes met his. A look of determination in them.

"I wanna join, Kappa." you spoke lowly, almost as though you didn't want him to hear you say it, "Wanna be with you..."

You knew this was a huge commitment. You knew that. You were seriously asking your cult leader lover to join his hippie family - you'd officially gone mad.

Though, Kappa was taking this surprisingly well. You assumed that he'd tell you it was a spur of the moment decision. That you were foolish and should be ashamed of even asking. Instead, he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the tips of your fingers.

"Together... we can create something beautiful... meaningful." Kappa spoke, his words filled with conviction.

You nodded eagerly, your eyes clouded over with twisted love and sickening desire. God, it would be true what they would come to say. That you were just as sick and twisted as he was - and you didn't even know it yet.

"We'll build a new world together..." you added with a soft sigh, "Like the Garden of Eden... paradise on Earth...that we shaped... together."

"Our children will grow up in paradise...a world that we created... just for them..." Kappa leaned forward, holding your hips tightly as his eyes pierced yours.

Your heart fluttered, leaping when he mentioned children. You could see it. Your children. They would be beautiful. Built on nothing but love and devotion - bred on passion and raised with loyalty. Symbolic of everything the world should be - and would be.

You nodded at his words. And you'd allow Kappa to see this side of you. The deluded, passionate and possessive side that he knew he was responsible for creating. You were everything he'd ever wanted. And you were all his.

And you just couldn't help yourself. You leaned forward, pressing a deep, fiery kiss to his lips, locking with heat and pent up desires. You didn't want to pull away - like a thirsting man from water. All love and lust was poured into the kiss, and it was warm and full of light.

"They'll grow up knowing unity... paradise.. freedom. Knowing that defying Earth... defying nature must have a cost."

A sense of profound contentment washed over as Kappa wrapped his arms around you, kissing and nipping his way down your throat. The whole image. The whole talk of children, of building a new world built for paradise sparked something in you. Something primal that made you want to have Kappa in the most natural, intimate way.

You pushed him gently so that he lay on his back on your floor, the crackling from the fire cast a soft glow over Kappa as he lay looking pretty under you. You popped the buttons of his shirt open, one by one, peppering kisses down his chest and abdomen as you went. You could feel Kappa's beating heart under his skin, the thumping had your mind swirling.

"Want you to give me your children." you hummed lowly, moving your hands to his thighs as you lay your head on his stomach. You peered up at Kappa through your lashes and the seemingly innocent act only fuelled his aching want.

"Fuck." Kappa gritted out, holding you so tight you knew it would bruise. He tilted his head with his lips parted, staring up at you. God. How he hoped for a little girl that looked exactly like you.

You laughed lowly, almost manically, as you shifted positions, swinging your legs over his in a straddle. You smirked softly, reaching your hand back and down to firmly grip Kappa where he needed you. The warm, throbbing feeling in your palm had your mind spinning.

"F-fuck you... that's.. that's unfair." Kappa spat, groaning at the friction.

Your smile widened when Kappa gave the reaction you so desperately wanted. You knew that in any other situation, he'd be angry. Embarrassed that you had so much control over him.

"You like that, sugar, hm?" you cooed mockingly, moving your hand up and down with a firm, slow grip.

"You're... such... a bitch." he groaned, "Don't you dare stop, sugar."

"Or what?" you teased, slowing down your movements ever so slightly but keeping the grip on Kappa firm and tight. You felt your own need growing by the second, but you were too engrossed in seeing how far you could push Kappa before he snapped.

"You're a fuckin' tease... If that was anyone else... I'd beat the fuck outta you, yeah?"

You raised a brow, challenging Kappa with a small, satisfied smirk on your face. You knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. And, God, did Kappa know that too. You removed your hand, making Kappa growl lowly at the lack of contact as he felt the building pressure die off inside him.

Instead, you rocked yourself back and forth slowly, tossing your head back with a pleased sigh. You felt your eyes clouding over, and you reached down to interlock Kappa's fingers with your own - a strangely intimate gesture that only added to Kappa's aching want.

Kappa swallowed hard, the rough grip on your hips tightening.

"I need you so damn bad...get the fuck on me, sugar." Kappa grunted, moving you up roughly so that your dripping core was positioned right where he needed you to be.

You hummed, satisfied with how eager Kappa was to beg for you. Watching as his knuckled turned white with how hard he was gripping on to you. You moaned softly when you felt Kappa twitching beneath you, the obvious sign of the lust that was pooling in his stomach.

Kappa growled, pure animalistic need radiating from his body as he lowered your hips down onto his, throwing his head back on your floor as he was enveloped by the warm, wet feeling of your core around him.

"How'd you want it, sugar?" you hushed out between pants, resting your intertwined hands on Kappa's chest.

Kappa grunted, squeezing your hands tighter - feeling the need to cling to you. To anchor to himself like this was the last time he'd ever have you like this.

"Fuck... fast. And hard." he gritted out, his voice strained with primal need. Kappa let out a guttural sound, groaning lowly as you did as he requested, moving on top of him fast and rough. The tightness of your warm body around him sends shock waves of pleasure through his body, Kappa's head spinning with ecstasy.

"That's it... just like that...f-fuck, sugar." he panted, his voice rough and ragged.

You laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a broken, choked back moan as you kept the steady, rough pace. You wanted to make this last as long as possible, not caring at all about how irritated your neighbours would be - at three in the morning.

"Jesus, sugar... I'm getting close. You gotta... slow the fuck down." Kappa said, his voice shaking as he teetered on the edge of release.

You rolled your eyes, pressing a light slap to his cheek - not enough to hurt, but enough to sting just right and to make Kappa's eyes widen at your audacity.

"Don't you dare." you hissed through your pleasured state, "You can go longer than that."

"F-fuck... you're goddamn crazy.." Kappa breathed out, his eyes screwing shut as he tried to hold back his desperate release that was tightening in his abdomen.

"I'm crazy... you're crazy... we'll be crazy together." you whispered hotly in his ear, lowering yourself down all the way, taking Kappa as deep as you could.

"Y-yeah... but you, sugar... you're a whole other level of unhinged. You're batshit crazy...and that's why I love you so goddamn much." Kappa said, his voice nothing more than a gruff, low grunt in your ear.

You gasped loudly, your eyes fluttering closed as Kappa hit that beautiful spot inside you that had stars exploding behind your eyes like a colourful kaleidoscope. And Kappa could see it. Imagining you beside him, joining the family, life being like this all the time.

"Jesus, fuck... you close?" Kappa panted inn between short, shaking breaths.

"Uh-huh." you whimpered, clutching Kappa's hands in yours and pulling them to your chest as you felt that all too familiar coil tightening in your abdomen.

"S'so close, sugar, fuck... made for me, weren't you?" you cooed lowly, desperately seeking the release that threatened to wash over you any moment now.

Kappa couldn't respond. His mind already too blissed out to even think about forming a coherent response.

"M' gonna cum, Kappa... and you're gonna cum with me. Deep inside, yeah?" you hissed, gripping and clutching at his hands like they were your last tether to Earth.

Kappa nodded frantically, a little too eager for what he would've liked. But he couldn't help it. Not when you felt like this around him - tight and clenching as the band inside your abdomen snapped.

"Y-yeah, sugar. I'm gonna cum... deep inside, just like you want." Kappa grunted, wrapping his arms around you as he felt you collapse against his chest as your release washed over you like a tidal wave.

You let out one last shuddering gasp when you felt Kappa paint your insides with thick ropes of hot, white release, burying your head in his neck as you tried to regain your breath. You truly hoped that this would be it. That your baby, symbolic of the new world you'd build together, would be created.

After a few moments of silence, only being broken by your panting breaths as the flames of the fire - you spoke up again.

"When can I come meet the family?" you asked, making Kappa chuckle breathlessly as his fingers traced invisible patterns up and down your back.

"As soon as you're ready."

You nodded, humming against his chest as you lay down beside him, intertwining your legs together - a soft mess of limbs and naked flesh.

"I'm ready now."

If this had been a book, it would've ended badly. You'd both get lost in the lust for power and passion in creating the new Eden - paradise on Earth. You'd go crazy together and would encourage each other's madness until the very end. Though we have yet to reach this part of the story...

#kappa black mirror #kappa x reader #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #someone new series #Spotify

58 notes · View notes

dtrghost · 1 year ago

Text

closeness and proximity part.6

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: fluff, some angst, ooc simon, virgin! reader, 18+ smut, cunnilingus, piv, praise kink, this a softer smut, degrading terms are still gonna be used but in a praising way because i think after everything that's happened her first time shouldn't be too much, he still gets rough though. size kink, overstimulation!receiving, some masochism!receiving on simon's behalf, some sub!ghost, cursing.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count:

The last half a year wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be. Turns out she wasn't a sociopath, she had some tendencies sure, but in reality she was just broken from years of unresolved trauma. She had a long way to go, but according to the reports sent to HQ by her therapist, Ms. Maeve Riva, she was making excellent progress.

Price moved out halfway through her leave, and at first she was happy about it, the flat was a lot cleaner, quieter, she had more space for herself and she could decorate it in peace without hearing him grumble about how feminine her decor was.

But she got lonely within a week, and adding on the depression from reliving her worst traumatic experiences, she'd end up calling someone to talk to, which was more often than not, Price. She trusted him enough for that, and she knew he wouldn't tell the team. She wanted them to think she was getting better, and in a lot of ways she was, but some aspects of recovery couldn't be helped.

It was the last day before she was officially off leave and back on call, and she wanted to make it memorable. She sat down in her usual spot in front of Maeve who smiled warmly at her.

"Last day! I brought.." She pulled out two half liter bottles of cherry coke, handing one to her with a cheeky look in her eyes.

"These, to celebrate you! Look how far you've come!" Her therapist gushed emotionally. She chuckled, cracking it open and taking a sip. She sighed at the burn of the carbonation as it slide down to her stomach.

"Thank you Maeve. Couldn't have done it without you and you're weird obsession with tea." Maeve rolled her eyes, snickering as she took a swig from her bottle. Normally she'd do this with alcohol, but knowing her client it was best not to.

"So what's on the agenda for today. Party your heart out, one night stand." She hummed, shrugging her shoulders.

"I was actually gonna call a friend of mine."

"Oooooo one night stand with a friend then. Those are always interesting." She laughed and looked at her incredulously.

"No no no just for some time to reconnect. I'm getting tired of being alone all the time." Maeve nodded, tilting her bottle towards her in agreement.

"Who's this friend of yours? Are they hot?"

"Name's classified, but damn straight he's hot. Shit. I wanted to climb him like a tree when we first met." Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Alright then. So have you asked him out yet?" She sighed, leaning back on the couch.

"Nope. Don't even know where he is right about now. Haven't tried to call in the last 6 months either."

"And why is that?" Here the therapy session truly started.

"About 2 weeks before I was put on leave we had an.. altercation. Meaning a knife to my neck and some hurtful words. He apologized, we moved on, but a part of me still feels like what he said was true." She knew what she was referring to, and she leaned forward and put her hand on her knee gently.

"You then and you now are two very different people. Yes your occupation requires more, gruesome methods of getting information out of people, but you feel remorse, you do it out of necessity. You can't keep beating yourself up about it." Y/N nodded, looking down at her phone for a second in contemplation.

"Give him a call. I'll be here with you." Her eyes flickered to Maeve's, only seeing comfort and reassurance. She sighed, her tongue poking at the side of her cheek for a moment before she picked up her phone and looked in her notes. She'd asked Price for Simon's number before he left, and she saved it for when she got the courage to actually contact him. She took a deep breath, hitting the call button and listening to it ring in her ear.

"This is Ghost." Her heart was beating out her chest, the sound of his voice causing her eyes to water involuntarily. Maeve noticed the immediate panic in her eyes and reached over to squeeze her hand, gesturing her to respond. She couldn't hear the conversation, but she could tell by her facial expressions the idea of what was going on.

"Uh-, hey, it's Y/N." All the air left his lungs for a moment, his throat dry as he sat up from his bed. It was his off day, so he back at his flat, watching some old crime movie that he'd seen a while back and took a liking to.

"I just wanted to ask if you um, if you wanted to just ya know, hang out with me later. If you can." She hated how she sounded. Her voice was shaky and she was having a hard time getting the words out. The silence was killer, and it was because he was shocked. 6 months of no contact and suddenly she's asking him to dinner.

"...Yeah. Alright. Time?" Her eyes blew open, Maeve cheering her on as she forced herself to remain calm.

"Does 6:30 work for you? I know you prefer staying in so I can-"

"S'alright I'll come to you. I know where you live anyway."

"Oh alright." It went silent for a bit, and she shrugged at Maeve's curious look.

"...You doing alright then?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. I'll tell you about it when I see. I don't have alcohol so if you plan to drink you'll have to bring your own. Oh, and no masks. Bye." She hung up quickly, taking a deep inhale as she looked at Maeve with wide eyes.

"So you have a date then."

"I guess so. He's coming to me... fuck." She realized she had no idea when he was going to show up.

"We can cut this one short. I got you covered." She thanked her, seeing it was 4 and she needed time to get ready. She rushed home, cleaning up before racing upstairs to change where she was suddenly at a loss. What the hell was she going to wear?

Simon was in no better situation either, staring at his closet that consisted of hoodies, cargo pants, black t-shirts, and mostly work attire. What did a hang out at her place constitute? Nothing formal surely, casual? He decided on a black t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of black shoes he had that weren't too worn out.

The idea of no masks surprised him, but he didn't care too much. They'd known each other for years and he'd been meaning to find a reason to show her his face, and seeing her own. Then realization struck him.

Did that mean she's not wearing one either?

He couldn't help the sudden bloom of excitement in his chest and stomach at the thought of it. He sprayed on his cologne and grabbed his keys before heading to his car. He had memorized the way there, having driven by sometimes to catch a quick glimpse at her as a way to check in.

She sighed, looking in the mirror at her final look, fear and overthinking plaguing her mind. She didn't wanna look like a bum in her own house, so she put on a nicer pair of clothes, which was really just an all black, long sleeve two piece. She looked comfortable but put together at the same time, even if she was anything but the latter.

What if she just called him and said something came up? What if he's already driving over here?

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, mentally cursing herself as she sprayed herself with her favorite perfume and scurried downstairs while adjusting her hair. With a deep breath, the door opened and her eyes blew open, and so did his.

Fuckin' hell. I'm not gonna make it through the night. He thought to himself.

Her mask was off, revealing her perfect nose, skin, and god those lips. They were just the right size, shiny with whatever lipgloss she was wearing. She flashed him a smile that took his breath away. Her outfit hugged her curves in sinful ways that made him swallow his drool before it had to chance to run out of his mouth.

He was just as hot, the way his clothes perfectly hugged him figure, showing off the slim of his waist and broad, bulky shoulders. His pants accentuated his muscular thighs, getting just that much tighter around them as he moved in them.

His jaw was chiseled, as if sculpted by the Gods themselves, his scars added depth to his face with plump lips and a look that would make anyone's drawls or panties fall off. She's surprised hers didn't.

"You look great."

"You look beautiful." They said at the same time, their cheeks beginning to burn.

"Thank you Simon. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too Y/N, oh and I.. I brought these.. for you." He pulled out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, her eyes lighting up in surprise as she hadn't noticed his arm behind his frame in the first place. They were gorgeous. White roses with stems of lavender to compliment them.

"Awwww thank you. These are beautiful." She smelled them, humming at the aroma.

"Do you mind if I put them in a vase really quick?" He shook his head, watching her shuffle back into the flat as he trailed behind her, shutting the door. He took his time looking around, nodding to himself as he was impressed at how well decorated it was. He left his fairly bare, the walls were gray and he'd only furnished it with the necessities. He watched her walk back into the room, bending down to put the flowers on the coffee table in front of the couches.

He almost groaned at how perfectly those pants hugged her legs, complimenting the shape of her ass as she adjusted the vase to be at the center of the table. Her hair fell off to the side beautifully, her velvet locks entrancing him as this was only the second time he'd seen it naturally. He forced himself to look away as she stood back up, smiling at them before shifting her gaze to him. She noticed that he didn't bring anything other than the flowers.

"Not drinking tonight?" He shook his head, dropping his keys onto the table.

"Alright, do you want anything else? Water, I have some coke."

"Coke's fine." She hummed, quickly grabbing two bottles from her fridge and coming back to see him getting himself comfortable on her couch.

"Here." She passed it to him before taking a seat next to him, crossing her leg over the other as she grabbed the remote to put on a movie.

Fuck, those thighs of hers.

He couldn't help but let his mind drift off for just a moment.

How good they'd look locked around his head as he ate her pretty little cunt out until she was begging for him to stop. How'd they feel against his body as he fucked her through the night. Their smoothness, how'd they be shaking by dawn.

"Simon, you okay?" Her voice dragged him out. She looked at him curiously as he snapped out of it suddenly, embarrassed.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She pressed, making him snicker to her surprise.

"I don't think we'd make it to the end of the movie if I told you that." Her jaw dropped for a moment, suddenly not sure how to comprehend his blatant statement as her thighs unconsciously pressed together.

"Don't do that." He commanded roughly, eyes flickering away from her legs and his hand squeezing the bottle in his hand a bit tighter. Suddenly she understood, and she couldn't help the grin stretching across her face making him roll his eyes.

"I know I know, I'm hot. Don't gotta tell me." She teased lightly, chuckling to herself.

"Don't get all cocky on me now. You were the one fantasizing about me while I was in the shower that one time." "Fuck yeah. Told my therapist about it too, she thought I should've shot my shot when I had the chance back then." He looked over to her for a brief moment, watching as she took in the look in his eyes before they flickered back to the screen.

"You could still shoot it." He suggested quietly, his cheeks burning red as he took another swig of his drink. He wished he'd brought the damn whiskey.

"Would I miss?" He huffed a small laugh at her uncertainty.

"You never miss." Her throat went dry, her eyes darting around the room in front of her before her hand reached out to the one he had on his thigh, grasping it in hers before resting it on the meat of hers.

She sighed lightly at the feeling of his hand squeezing her quads, her eyes shutting for a moment as she let her head fall back.

"Call it a miracle if we get to the credits Riley." He chuckled, his thumb stroking her clothed skin gently. They watched the movie in tense silence, their breathing a bit ragged in an attempt to not jump on each other.

"So, how's the team been?" She began, watching him shift in his spot.

"S'been good. Soap's still a shithead but what's new with that." He listened to her chuckle, missing the melody of it.

"Not surprising."

"How's therapy been? Honestly." He was looking for a genuine answer, turning his head and seeing her bite her inner cheek for a moment.

"It's been rough at times, but I guess I should've been expecting that." She avoided Simon's gaze for a bit while, feeling a bit odd talking about it. When she looked back up, she noticed his look focused on her neck.

Her hand reached up, feeling the unevenness in the area from the scar that was left after he pressed his knife against her neck.

"It's okay, forgot it was even there." She brushed off.

"No it's not." Every part of him regretted that, he never forgave himself.

"It was justified. I threatened you before that too. You were just scared, rightfully so." She had reached over to the other side of him, grasped his clenched fist and gently poking her fingers through the break it apart.

"Si, honey. Look at me." His eyes flickered to hers, his chest tightening at the tenderness looking back at him as she squeezed his hand. She was so close, he could smell her lovely perfume, one that made his head spin.

"I forgive you. Okay?" He hesitated, his hand slowly relaxing as hers slipped in, intertwining their fingers for a moment before she sat back. She noticed the dazed look on his face, his mouth slightly opened as his eyes flickered all over her body, from her face, to her waist, to her legs, and back up.

"So how long have you had a crush on me for."

"Oh fuckin' hell."

"What it's a fair question! I'll answer if you answer."

"I'm not answering that."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a bloody stupid question that's why."

"No it's not! If we're gonna fuck then I should at least get to know how long you've been waiting." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his eyebrow and listening to her laugh.

"Well, hopefully not JUST fuck, but I'll take what I can get." She added on quietly, picking at her nails with a small smile on her lips.

"Since a few months after we met." He answered suddenly, looking back up at her. His stare was intense, as it always was, his amber eyes boring into hers.

"Yeah. About the same for me. I didn't understand it for a while until I went through therapy, a bit before that but I wasn't completely sure until I talked it out." He nodded.

"Thank you, by the way." She spoke up, her leg beginning to bob nervously.

"For?"

"Everything. Trying to help me when I didn't want it, coming back for me, fighting HQ for me. All that stuff."

"Of course I came back for you." She placed down her bottle with a shrug.

"I didn't think you would."

Sick, selfish bastard. I don't want something like that on my team.

Those words had stuck with her, and he could tell.

"Oh um, speaking of. We did this thing in therapy where I had to write a letter to the person I think I hurt the most and you were one of them. I was gonna mail it but I never found the courage. Can I just give it to you now?" His eyes widened for a moment, placing down his coke on the floor next to him and giving her a curt nod. She rushed upstairs, opening her drawer and taking out the singular letter she had kept, the rest already having been shipped out.

She stared at it for a moment. Was she ready to hand this to him? For him to read her thoughts and emotions during one of the most vulnerable times of her life? She could say she lost it, accidentally shipped it to the wrong address by mistake. She could've just wrote "sorry for being a prick my bad" and moved on, but she made it personal, emotional, she was pretty sure that there was a stain on it from a tear that had fallen as she wrote.

"Get lost?" Simon called out, noticing how long she'd been gone. She took a deep breath before going back down, staring down at it as she took a seat next to him. He could see her hesitance to hand it to him, her fingers tightly glued to the sides.

"Read it to me then." He offered, shifting his body to face her.

"I'm not sure if that'll be any better."

"I disagree. Go on. Take your time." She felt small in that moment, his intense gaze causing her hands to shake as her finger glided over the indents of his name written on the front. She turned it over, gently slipping her finger underneath the seal of the envelope and opening it, pulling out the letter.

"I tried to keep it short." She spoke, her heart pounding and her voice wavering. He nodded, though she likely didn't see it with how trained her eyes were on the letter. With a deep breath, she started, her voice being the only sound in the room as Simon paused the movie.

"Dear Simon, I dreaded writing your letter because of how personal it would be, but I managed to force myself to pick up my pen and put ink on the page. This letter has no goal, and my therapist told me it was supposed to make me feel better, but that isn't the case for this one."

She stopped for a moment, feeling her throat close up and tighten.

"Take your time lovie." He crooned softly, watching as her eyes darted around the page. She could do this, she thought to herself, clearing her throat and beginning again.

"We've known each other for a few years now, and at first I thought we'd be great friends. We were alike in some ways and even if some our conversations were painfully awkward, I looked forward to them. I was excited when I found out that I was being moved to team 141 because I'd see you again. I used to stay up sometimes and think about some bullshit future with you, where we'd live somewhere quiet together, getting old with a cat and a small garden in the back or whatever else I imagined. But then I actually got there."

She could feel the tears burning in her eyes. Simon didn't speak, instead he just continued to stare at her with a soft gaze, watching the emotions flicker in her eyes, like the candlelight he had seen all that time ago.

"I was confused. I didn't understand why I imagined these fantasies about us or why I wanted to be around you in the first place. I couldn't handle all of it at the time. I had done horrible things in front of you, tortured people in ways that now I can't stomach thinking about. There is no amount of money or apologies I can give to take my actions back, to bring those people back to life and figure out another way. And I did it because I'd seen it done before. I've watched the strongest of people break in Verdansk, and I replicated it because I knew it would work, and that's what matters right? That i got the job done."

Her voice had cracked, the tears that had once blurred her vision now streaming down her cheeks.

"I know that none of this is an excuse, and I won't ask for your forgiveness because I know that I don't deserve it. But I need you to know that I'm sorry, for hurting you, for scaring you, for failing you. Your face in that room is what I see when I close my eyes at night, consistently reliving it every chance of sleep that I get. You tried to save me and I didn't let you, and I'll always regret that. You words stuck with me, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make amends with myself and everyone else I've hurt. If you've gotten this far, thank you for reading, and for what it's worth, if anything, I'm truly sorry for what I've done to you.

Yours wholeheartedly,

-Y/N L/N."

He watched as she covered her face with the paper to try and hide her sobs, even though her body shook and convulsed lightly as she cried. His body moved before his mind did, getting up silently. She thought he was leaving, and she was okay with that.

"Hey, look at me." He cooed softly, gently taking the paper from her tight grip and placing it on the table behind him. Her eyes flickered to his, her cheeks red and puffy in his hands as he cupped her cheeks.

"I forgive you, Y/N." His voice was calm, even. She shook her head, her hands coming up to her face to hide her tears, only for him to pull her arms away and intertwine their fingers.

"What I said was fucked up. It's not true. You're not sick, you're not selfish. Do you hear me?" The resolve in his eyes only made her feel worse. She wanted him to hate her, to scream in her face and rip up her letter, but here he was. On his knees in front of her and holding her hands, doing the opposite.

"You're all I want, and you're all I'll need. I know that now, always have." He could still see the hesitance and disbelief in her wide range of emotions, so he did what he's been wanting to do for so long. His hands went back to her face, and with a gentle tug their lips met. It was almost too overwhelming, the sensations that flooded her senses soon overpowered her. She kissed back with the same fiery passion, sighing into his mouth as his hands dropped to her waist.

He rose, pushing her frame back into the couch, hovering over her. She was engulfed by him, he kissed her like it would be his last, pouring every ounce of his soul into hers, and she drank it gladly. She engraved the feeling of his soft lips on hers into her mind, feeling the roughness of his palms gliding under her top to feel her skin against his.

"Let me show you how much I need you lovie." He muttered against her lips, his eyes dark with lust, love, and desire.

"Let me take care of you."

Her throat when dry at his words as they sent shockwaves through her body, her thighs pressing together once more as heat gathered in the place she now needed him the most. With a single nod she was picked up in his arms, her legs wrapped around his middle as he began heading up the stairs to her room.

"Where." He followed her point to the right, pushing the door open with his hand and shutting it with his leg. His lips met hers again, moaning at the feeling of her hands combing through his hair. He tossed her onto the bed with a small umph, and she suddenly regretted wearing pants.

~ Oh we're switching to 2nd POV for this yall. Buckle up! Or should I say saddle up ;)))) ~

He settled himself between your legs, his hands squeezing the flesh of your plump ass as his lips hit yours, this time rougher and more needy.

"You ever done this before lovie?" He mumbled against your lips. Your breath hitched, your body tensing underneath his as you look away, embarrassed by your unspoken answer. He on the other hand, he loved it. His length grew impossibly harder at the idea of him being your first and your last.

He'd be damned to let you go again. You were it for him, it ended here, just you and him.

"Hey hey, look at me." Your eyes flickered to his, only to find fondness and excitement in his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours.

"It's alright love. I'm more than happy to be your first." He could feel you relax, his lips grazing over yours as he moved to your ear.

"I'll do it right yeah? I'll take my time with you, give it to you real nice and ruin you. You want that sweet thing? You want me to ruin you?" He could hear your uneven, shaky breaths as your legs pressed together, trying to relieve some of the pressure of your arousal. He groaned at the sight, of your small body under his and aching to be touched by his big, rough hands.

"Please Si." You whimpered, your eyes shiny with lust and need. He used his knee to push your legs open, his hand traveling down your body and cupping your hot sex. Your skin burned at him feeling how wet you were, the moisture pushing through your panties and just nearly to your pants.

"I know lovie. I got you, always have right?" You nodded vigorously, buckling your hips into his hand desperately for some friction. He hummed, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips before they traveled to your neck. You felt his tongue travel over your scar in a silent apology, one of likely many as his hand cupped your breast under your shirt. He loved how perfectly they fit in his hands, how soft and supple they were.

"How about we take some of these things off." His suggestion was more of an order, and you worked quick, pulling off your top and unclipping your bra as his knees sat on either side of your hips, watching with a raging hard on and sultry eyes.

"You're fucking beautiful love, so perfect for me." You felt vulnerable under his intense gaze, gripping the sheets to stop yourself from covering your chest. His head came down, swirling his tongue around your nipple as he teased and pinched the other one. Your breathy, soft moans were music to his ears, and they only grew louder as you felt him grind his clothed length against your core. He kissed and sucked, leaving marks all over chest to claim you as his.

"Simon" You whined, grabbing at his shirt, watching it ride a bit to showcase his lower back. With a smirk he lifted himself up for a moment, slowly peeling off his shirt as if he were giving you a show before tossing it somewhere in the room. Your hands began to roam, and he watched as you became entranced by him, your fingers delicately tracing his scars and running over his muscles.

You shivered, feeling his finger gliding underneath the waistband of your pants. You watched as he got off of you, sinking down to his knees as he began to slide them and your panties off of your legs. With a grip of your thighs he yanked you closer, amused by your small yelp as he examined your wet cunt.

Were you okay down there? Your thoughts began to race as he sat in silence.

"You... are a fucking goddess." His words caused you to gasp lightly, his hands pushing at your now arched legs to open them wider for him. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of him kissing and nipping at your inner thighs, leaving more marks he'd probably reencounter soon.

He was addicted to you already, fuck knows how many times he'll be in your room on base, doing just this.

He gripped your hips, cementing you in place before he licked a strip from your hole to your clit, listening to you moan as your head fell back against the bed.

"Eyes on me lovie. Want you to watch me eat this delicious fucking pussy." Once your eyes met his, he began eating you out like a starved man who had been deprived of a good meal for months. Your hands landed on his head in shock by his vigor and need as you moaned his name. He hummed, the vibrations adding to the hot pleasure that was coursing through your body as his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Fuck this is the best pussy I've ever had." He growled, his tongue entering your hole as he fucked you expertly. He forced himself to not thrust his hips into the bed for some relief, focusing all of his efforts into this moment. You moaned his name as you approached your orgasm, his eyes shooting up to look at you as he almost came from the way you said it. You felt his fingers replace his tongue, grinning at you as two slipped into easily.

"Gotta get this pretty cunt ready for me lovie." When his mouth attached to your clit and his fingers moved inside you, you saw stars, your hand gripped his free one that pressed flat of your lower stomach.

"Cum for me. Cum all over my fucking fingers." He instructed. He felt you clench down on his fingers, your head thrown back in ecstasy as your orgasm rocked you. He continued his motions until your whined, pushing at his head to get him off for a moment.

"You taste amazing, fuck I could do that for hours." He came up, pressing his lips against yours and shoving his tongue in your mouth, letting you taste your euphoria. You tugged on the belt loop of his jeans, feeling his chest vibrate against yours as he chuckled. He stood back up, your eyes trained on his body as he undid his button, letting his jeans drop.

Your eyes blew open, a sudden fear striking your heart. He was massive, his tip red in agony from the lack of attention.

"Si... that's not gonna fit." You told him. He brushed it off, stepping out of his pants and returning to his position, hovering over you.

"I'll make it fit. Don't worry." Shivers ran up your spine at his deep, raspy promise to you. You reached down, gathering some of your slick and beginning to slide your hand up and down his cock. his head hung for a moment, moaning your name softly. You sped up for a brief moment, only for him to yank your hand away with a shake of his head.

"This is about you love. Just do me a favor and say my name all pretty like you did earlier while I fuck you." You moaned, your arms wrapping around his neck as he grabbed the base of his dick, slowly pressing himself into you with a quiet groan in your ear. You felt yourself stretching to accommodate his size, your eyes flickering down to watch as he slowly disappeared into your sopping cunt.

He bottomed out with a moan, looking down at you.

"Any pain pretty?" Your cheeks burned at the pet name, shaking your head as he shifted your hips to get comfortable, listening to him hiss at the movement. He gives you a moment to adjust, and with your signal of buckling your hips into him for friction, he began thrusting into you. His pace was slow, following through with his promise to take his time with you as he memorized the feeling of your pussy clamped around him, hot and wet and needy for him to fill you up.

You soon began moaning loudly, still sensitive from his tongue as your nails pressed into his back.

"You're taking me so well Y/N, swear your pussy was made just for my cock." He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he fucked you.

"You were made for me love, made to be fucked like the pretty fuck toy you are." Your mind was sent into cloud 9, the feeling of his hips driving into you with purpose and need sending you over the edge.

"Oh fuck si right there!" He knew just how to fuck you, his length hitting the spot he knew would make you see stars, spots that had never been touched or stimulated in your life until now. He grunted at the feeling of your squeezing him again, kissing and sucking your neck as he pounded into you faster.

"Oh f-fuck yeah. Pussy feels amazing, so fucking good for me Y/N. I can feel myself, right here love" He took your hand and used his to push yours down on your lower stomach, feeling him fuck you with rhythm.

You were the best he'd ever had, and the best he'll ever have. No one could compare to you, nobody could moan his name like you could, make him feel good like you could. He was yours now, and he intended to let everyone, including yourself know that. The pleasure soon grew to be overwhelming, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades and making him shudder and whine into your ear.

"Fuck, do that again lovie. Mark me. Give me something to show off and let em know I belong to you." And you did just that. You left deep, red scratch marks on his back, kissing and nipping at his neck and his chest, leaving dark marks that he could flaunt later. His praises never stopped, him talking you through every orgasm you had and quickly slipping his cock back in when one had forced him out. He had no filter now, saying anything he wanted, which consisted of the filthiest words you'd ever hear him speak, and each time it would bring you and him that much closer to the never ending ecstasy you found in each other.

"S-Si I can't." You cried, tears rushing down your face as you pushed at his chest, the pleasure mixing with pain as your legs shook against his torso.

"One more for me. I'm so close lovie." Your want for him to cum was more than enough to help you persevere, his thumb coming down to rub your clit as he felt his orgasm approach.

"Where do you want me my love." He groaned, looking down at your fucked out face with his hooded eyes.

"In me. Please fill me up Si." You begged, your doe eyes big and watery. He let out a dirty moan you'd have to get out of him again later when you were able to move again as he let your legs down, fucking you fast in missionary, your legs locked around his middle.

"You want me to breed you huh. Dirty little girl, I'll give it to you. Fill that tight pussy up, you'll be full of me every day, walking around with my seed running down those pretty thighs of yours." His words sent both of you into a euphoria, your cum mixing together as he shot his load into you, your pussy having a vice grip around him as he shuddered. He managed to fuck you through yours, only stopping when you had begged him to with your pretty voice.

"Shhhh. I'll take care of you Y/N. Just trust me." He cooed in your ear, slowly pulling out of you and hearing you whimper from the loss of connection. He picked you up, bringing you to the shower that you lazily directed him to. He ran a bath, noticing how you were unable to stand up without his help. He scrubbed you clean, leaving loving kisses on your delicate skin, feeling you shiver as his tongue swirled over a few love bites he made.

When you were all clean he dried you off and helped you get dressed. You sent him to shower and managed to keep yourself up enough to grab some old clothes Price left behind that you cleaned and left in your drawer for whenever he came back for them, which was never. You laid on the bed, your eyes closing from exhaustion as you curled into yourself under your comforter, missing Simon's warmth and body heat. You were asleep by the time he got out, throwing his clothes into your laundry hamper and slipping into bed next to you, bringing your body flush against his.

"Goodnight lovie." He soothed, brushing your hair back and pressing a slow, loving kiss on your forehead before falling asleep with you, happy and content to have you in his arms.

That night was the first in 6 months where you slept through the night, no nightmares to plague your mind, no loneliness to keep you up in tears. You were in his arms, full of his love in every way, your closeness and proximity being the last identifier you needed to believe that life would get better.

And it would, you both knew it.

And that's it people!! It was my first time writing smut to be published so bear with me if it's bad. I might write a follow up chapter to this series but this is what I'll consider to be the last part! Thank you so much for your love and support and if you have an ideas for the next series, any hcs, preferences, smut etc let me know!

@thaprilks @bowtruckleninja @almightywdm @niallcozidonthavebettername @gothgirl6-6-6

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #cod mw2 #fanfic #simon riley smut #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost fanfiction #ghost smut

695 notes · View notes

cleolinda · 7 months ago

Text

If you are trying to tell me anything rn, I will not see it, my notifications are just an auto-refreshing deluge of boop chaos (invited; carry on).

This is not April Fool’s or boop-related: we are looking at 80 mph winds, heavy rain, hail, and tornadoes in the northwest of the state tomorrow (fellow Alabamians, have your weather apps and charger cords and hurricane lamps at the ready). I don’t know when it will hit us—I’m in central, so a bit later. If you’re in Huntsville or thereabouts, for sure keep an eye on forecasts.

I say this because when I watched a goddamn tornado go past my house late last year, in a neighborhood where we don’t GET tornadoes, we had no warning. Yes, I am still spooked about that. If you’re in NW AL you probably already know about the incoming weather, but: in case you hadn’t heard.

We’ve got 24 hours’ full notice this time, so we’re bringing in potted plants and battening down the patio furniture. The last Strong Wind Advisory we had blew an iron chair over and tore a seven-foot branch off our cherry tree.

I miss the Diagonal Trees that we had to cut down, but at least I’m not worried about them crashing into my bedroom now.

They will probably call a preemptive state of emergency tomorrow and possibly close schools early (wait, they just did). For us, this could either be nothing, or it could be a power/internet outage . Knock on wood, I’ll check in when I can.

#alabama #storms #tornadoes #weather #me for some reason

96 notes · View notes

sumicchin · 5 months ago

Text

CHIMES OF THE HEART

❃ a wind breaker (satoru nii) reader insert.

CHAPTER 4

Violence is the answer to everything in this world (not really). (3.3k words)

content warning: female reader, original characters, character background, slight ooc i fear

When I was little, I often found myself looking forward to the sound of the wind chime as it danced with the breeze. It was fairly quiet inside the shrine when it was just Hayami, me, and a man named Sojiro while waiting for the officiants to inhabit the divine structure.

Furin was my only companion—acting as if its bell were telling me stories from the outside world. It's been there ever since I could remember, and no one bothered to place another one.

Just like the wind chime, I was alone.

While the grownups worked, I occupied myself with little tasks that my stubby fingers could manage. Sometimes I took out a book they had in the study and ran to the adults to ask what certain words meant. I became more involved with the shrine as I grew older, not as a Miko, but just as a random helper.

I was essentially free to do what I wanted. So when I was 10, I expressed my wish to venture out of the shrine.

"Hey, old man," I greeted Sojiro, tending to the flowers near the statues. His head perked up upon hearing my voice and greeted me back. As odd as it sounded, Sojiro wanted me to call him that way despite his youthful appearance.

"Hi there, little miss," Sojiro says as he stands up to face me, "what's today's agenda?"

For as long as I can remember, Hayami and Sojiro have been caring for me since. I haven't really asked about their relationship, or who my parents were since there was no need to do so. I was fine with how things were for the past couple of years, but the books I read and my trips to the market while accompanying Hayami made me yearn for more.

And so I was determined to confront them that day.

I showed him the book I was carrying. Kusamakura by Natsume Soseki.

Not really something a ten-year-old would read, but I had nothing better to do in this shrine.

"Oh, that's one of Hayami's favorite novels," Sojiro says. "An artist sets on a journey in search of beauty and inspiration for life and art. It's a simple read but very worth it to understand what it's like to be an artist." The man beams, totally lost in his thoughts. I let out a sigh, "That's not what I came for, old man."

"Ah, my bad! You know I get too excited about stuff like that." Sojiro laughs and pats my head, "So, let's cut to the chase. You want to go outside, right?" He chuckles as soon as my face contorts to that of a shocked expression. Sojiro is a man full of secrets.

"H-how'd you know?"

He shows me his infamous grin with eyes closed, "It's a secret power of mine!"

He pats my head, ruffling it in the process, "But sorry kiddo, we can't really make that happen." Already rejected before I could speak the speech I prepared. "Hayami will explain to you once you're older, but right now you have to stay here, 'kay? Think of it as a special mission given by the gods!" I was about to sulk and curse whoever made that decision when Sojiro perked up, "But hey that reminds me! The priest decided to assign you as bodyguard for the Mikos." I let out an audible sound of confusion, telling him I barely knew how to throw a punch. The best I could do was to bite someone like a sewer rat.

"That's why I'm gonna train you starting tomorrow!"

By sheer determination and fear of being on the receiving end of Sojiro's sword and fist (both hurt equally), I became a competent bodyguard for the officiants at the age of 14.

"The wind feels very nice, doesn't it (F/n)?" Manami, one of the older Mikos, glances at the fully bloomed cherry blossom trees by the river.

"Yeah, pretty lucky we got to go out today!" I excitedly say. Becoming the bodyguard for the Mikos allowed me to at least go out more often. It was always fun accompanying the women of the shrine outside, teaching me all sorts of stuff that can't be picked up from books.

"The priest doesn't really trust outsiders let alone men to protect the girls, so he's hoping to rely on us, (F/n)." I recalled Sojiro's words on our first day of training. It was a day full of bruises, and many more came after that but the strength I currently possess made it all worth it. I find myself more comfortable fighting with a sword though, and Sojiro encourages me to keep at my training.

I established one rule as a bodyguard.

To never take someone's life.

The two of us continue talking, heading back to the steps leading to the shrine after buying gifts from the market. We were a few blocks away from returning to our refuge, until I felt a tug on my hakama's left sleeve.

"What is it, Manami?"

"Can we maybe, stay outside for a bit longer?" She timidly asks.

"But we promised to only go to the market," I reluctantly answered, but seeing her crestfallen face made me double take. I guess she's just tired of Miko duties...

"It's just for a moment, I promise! There's something I need to see."

She leads me to a shop that sold fireworks and the like.

"I'd like to get one of these for summer!"

I watched as she hurriedly went inside the shop, already browsing the many varieties of explosives. How do we hide the fireworks from Hayami and the priest, I deadpan.

I was too occupied with my thoughts, but I know for one someone in black just went past me. Still bothered by how I'm supposed to hide the fact we went somewhere other than the market, the scream of a woman registered late to me.

I hurriedly ran inside the shop and saw a dark-haired man in a suit dangerously near Manami.

"Let her go!" I yell as I grab the hilt of my sword.

Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the man was actually just a tall teenager from his features. He must be an artistocrat or something.

"Please fight outside my shop!" The shop owner yells to no avail.

"Are you cosplaying a samurai?" The boy hums, letting go of Manami. She stumbles back but was helped by the store owner. "She took the last sparkler I wanted to buy," he says mockingly while approaching me.

"But I've lost interest now." His tone suddenly drops, approaching slowly as he inspects me and my sword—and to say I'm frightened is an understatement. I've fought many men before, but his aura screamed something awfully dangerous.

I knew right then and there I'll die if I try fighting him.

"Is that sword for real? Must be serious business, huh?" he grins as he points at my sword.

I scoffed, "Wanna see for yourself?"

"Fine with me..." He raises his right arm, my grip on my sword's hilt and scabbard tightening, "been wanting to take out someone armed."

He swiftly tried to go for my neck, but I nearly blocked him with my sword, the blunt edge of the blade near my cheek and the sharper side near the man's wrist. "Don't move a muscle, or the blade will cut you."

His lips twitch, but not so much to pass as a grin, "I'll look forward to that."

Even though I tried resisting, his strength overpowered me by the end and I lost control over my blade. I stared helplessly as my sword fell to the ground, waiting for his fist to strike me. It

"You're interesting! Let's meet again when we're a bit older." He pats my shoulder, walking out of the store. "How about when we're both 16, 'kay?"

He walked unscathed out of the store as I scrambled towards Manami who was shaken.

She and I swore to never talk about the incident ever.

It was then that I realized I'm still weak.

Was I even fit to protect others?

Although I never wished to encounter that man again, the world had different plans for me.

Turns out he was just the start of this madness, and there were more to follow.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

You watch the boy from across the room as he sleeps peacefully, just like a child after throwing a fit. That night, he established social distancing before heading to bed, saying he didn't want to accidentally do stuff he'd regret in his sleep.

It was painfully obvious that he was nervous the whole night, stiff as a rock and barely breathing. He eventually (and with difficulty) fell asleep though, thankfully. Sakura would probably stay asleep for a couple more hours, so you decided to get a head start and freshen up for the day.

You unfold the piece of clothing that served as a makeshift pillow last night, recognizing that this is what Sojiro called a hoodie. It smelled very minty and upon checking the pockets, you see some suckers with different flavors. These look really good...

This must belong to Sakura, but no harm in trying it out right? The hoodie, that is. You've had enough of stealing's someone's food. The apparel was obviously loose and too big, but it makes one admire the craftsmanship with how warm and comfortable it felt.

He told you that night that his friends brought in food and clothes, so you excitedly checked the bag. It's filled with clothes that you used to dream of trying out, too tired of the usual hakama back at the shrine. Nothing bad about being traditional, but seeing vibrant colors and patterns other than flowers and birds makes you feel all giddy inside.

One of the shirts had a drawing of a white cat with a red ribbon. This character often appeared in the teen magazines Sojiro brought back from trips. Why he bought them is beyond you (it's so that you can check out what girls your age like, he says).

This is super adorable! You think while holding the shirt.

The bumpkin has now been in contact with Sanrio characters.

Taking out pants that you think fits the shirt with the white cat, you find the bathroom to freshen up and change.

If Hayami saw you right now, she'd probably start calling you out for looking scandalous. A huge part of your legs and thighs were exposed, and the shirt definitely hugged the torso a bit too much to what I'm you're to, but the cute design is too much to pass up on.

Styling your hair in your preferred way to complete the new look, you step out of the bathroom, seemingly trying your best to fit in with the folks of this city (and accordingly to the magazines).

It seems that Sakura is still out cold. Worriedly, you approached his figure hunched in a fetal position to check his temperature. Your face neared his and touched your foreheads together. Upon contact, it didn't seem like he was ill, but after a few seconds he began heating up rapidly.

You were greeted by his heterochromatic eyes, too wide for someone who was just sleeping moments ago. Didn't this happen already?

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" He stammers, backing to a wall behind him.

"Checking your temperature, what else? You were out cold for a while."

He wipes his forehead rapidly like you spread germs on it. Rude.

"Aren't you the sick one here? Stop worrying about me, damn it!"

You unknowingly pout and look at the floor, "I was just worried." Rolling your eyes towards him, he looks away in return.

He clicks his tongue, refusing to look you in the eye. Is he allergic to affection or something?

"So much for a morning call." You stretch, standing up to head out. "I'm feeling all better now, can we go outside?"

"Someone's gonna pay you a visit, so sit your ass down!" He turns on his phone and starts swiping his fingers.

Nirei

Sent a sticker [good morning!].

Suo

Sent a sticker [happy wake up].

Kiryu

Sent a sticker [cat wake up].

Tsugeura

Sent a sticker [muscle ohayo!]

Nirei

Suo and I will be visiting!

Sugishita

Seen

Sakura sees the group chat for his class, then checks out the ones his upperclassmen sent.

Kaji

bring my hoodie to school i cant drop by cuz of errands

Tsubaki

Good morning!

I'll be visiting after school with Kanji and the twins~

Umemiya

Morning!

Kotoha and I will visit soon!

Breakfast is on me!

···

He sees Bofurin's leader still writing another message and waits for it. When it does get sent, he suddenly gets conscious.

Umemiya

Kotoha hopes you're wearing something other than a shirt and boxers, she says!

Sakura immediately looks at himself and suddenly whips his head towards you.

"How come you didn't tell me I was just wearing boxers in front of 'ya the whole time?!"

You blink repeatedly, "You were bothered by that? If it makes you feel better, I've seen uncles only in their loincloths."

He turns red and immediately scrams to the bathroom to check for his used pants.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

"Wow, so this is your school uniform?"

Sakura comes out of the bathroom in his iconic green gakuran and pants, acting smug and proud to be wearing symbolic garments. You clapping and looking with amazement just made his head bigger, saying stuff like "Woah, so trendy!" and "You look like a model!"

A knock on the door interrupted the duo's little fashion show, with Sakura heading towards the door to invite his guests.

He sees Umemiya, Suo, Nirei, and Kotoha all carrying bags.

"Morning, Sakura!" Everyone followed suit with their morning greetings, taking off their shoes as they entered his apartment.

"Oh! Looks like our little ghost has recovered now," Umemiya smiles as he takes a seat in front of you. "I'm Umemiya Hajime, but you can call me big bro if you'd like!" He beams.

He starts rummaging the bag he brought out, "Hope you like soup and omurice!"

Kotoha approaches you and waves hello, to which you bow in reply. She was taken aback, saying there was no need to be formal. "Kotoha is fine! And the clothes look really good on you!" She starts gushing about taking you to the shopping district with someone named Tsubaki, happy to have another female companion.

"We've brought you some snacks, courtesy of the class!" Nirei shows you the contents of the bag filled with unfamiliar bags, "O-oh! I'm Nirei Akihiko by the way. If you need help navigating Makochi, I'm your guy!"

The last of the visitors wore an eye patch and felt immensely mysterious, boasting quite the powerful aura. Thinking about it, three of them held overwhelming auras, Umemiya's in particular was overflowing. You didn't notice that you were staring too hard at the eye-patched boy.

"My name is Leonardo DiCaprio!"

Oh! A foreigner, you beamed.

"Don't fall for that, (F/n)!" Sakura points accusingly at Suo, "That guy's Hayato Suo, make sure you're extra careful around him."

"You wound me, Sakura. I thought we were friends," Suo fakes a sigh. "And you're on a first name basis with her."

Sakura blushes, "That's her first name?!"

Nirei realizes and hides his face using his notebook, feeling giddy to have another female friend on a first name basis, "I-it feels really embarrassing to be on a first name basis already!"

"You already gave her your lap yesterday, a name is nothing at this point," Suo chuckles.

You think for a bit, and it reminds you that everyone back at the shrine never mentioned a family name. Gods, am I adopted? Am I the next Momotaro?

"I don't know my parents, and no one really told me about other stuff about them."

Everyone stops and looks at you with a somber expression.

Umemiya lets out a loud wail, eyes comically tearing as he tries to go in for a hug, "Ume-nii and Kotoha over here will be your family then!!!"

Nirei feels himself tear up as well, unable to imagine living a life without knowing who his parents were. Suo's face remained neutral, mouth forming a line and unable to say something to lift the mood.

Sakura on the other hand just stares at you, eyes soft and looking as if he sees himself in you.

"But don't worry about me! I still grew up with caring adults," your smile falters for a bit, wondering how Hayami and Sojiro were faring after your escape. "Let's all eat! Big day ahead of us."

Kotoha begins handing out soup and takeout omurice, "What happened to you anyways? If you don't mind me asking,"

You choke on a potato, clearing your throat before speaking, "Oh uh...I made an enemy out of an aristocrat, he decided to marry me or else he'll destroy my home, but my caretakers wanted me to run away, and now I am searching for something here in this town. Yes, I think that accounts for everything so far!"

"That's quite the story." She says, not sure if she was concerned or amused.

Suo pieces the situation in his head, "I assume that's why you were in a white kimono." Everyone realizes and looks at him, "Do you think your husband will search for you?"

You correct Suo, saying you're technically not wed yet. He mutters a small apology. "I don't want to get married to a man like him."

They all feel the spite and anger behind your words.

You look sternly at everyone, "It's also why I needed to get away from everyone as soon as possible. I fear I'll get you all caught up in this mess."

Everyone hears a scoff from Sakura who was gulping down food just earlier, now looking at you with a smirk.

"Thanks for telling me bits of your story," he puts down his now finished bowl of soup and omurice.

"We just gotta beat up that guy, right?"

changed the writing style for a bit, hope its okay (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

#windbreaker x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #haruka sakura x reader

57 notes · View notes