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hibernationsuit · 7 months

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Silent fury and/or trembling hands? For the writing prompt? :D

omg these are so good :') thank u!

trembling hands Waking up after hibernation nap could've been more peaceful, but alas, your first minutes are just a scientist monologuing about saving the colony from the Board and that you have been a popsicle for 70 years instead of 10, and then the said mad scientist sends you down to the planet on an escape pod. Sad! Have a look on how Toby's first moments went on Terra 2. warnings: violence mention, death mention, self-concious thoughts, gun mention

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"Oh my god did I just kill a man???"

"Technically, no. It was the escape pod, and maybe his stupidity."

"But-"

The old man's calm-ish voice sounded sligthly more high-pitched than before. "Calm down, take a deep breath." He paused for a moment, then continued, with his typical voice this time. "What's done is done. Now go find the ship."

Oh boy, he probably hates me already.

I stood up, slowly and steadily, trying not to fall, as if my body was slowly recalling how to stand. Even worse, the 36 hour period of no eating before entering hibernation added dizziness and nausea to the mix. I definitely didn't feel like those smiling people on the pictures of the papers Klara was designing.

Oh no...Klara...

"Hey! Doctor Welles? I need to ask you a-"

"Whatever questions you have, I'll answer them later. You can come to my lab once you get that ship and we can talk there," the scientist said, and quickly added before I could reply, "And please, call me Phineas."

"Fine, okay, sure." He definitely hates me.

I took a deep breath and looked at the sky to get my thoughts together. Except that instead of seeing the typical, calming Earth scenery, what I saw instead was another planet covering almost half of the sky.

"Listen, I know this may all be shocking for you, but you have to get moving." Phineas's voice said.

May?! I'm barely holding myself together after your monologue and now you want me to steal a dead man's ship??? And I'm supposed to be calm? "Why the hurry?"

"The Board will come. And trust me, they don't want my success to surface. Erm, I mean, a live Hope colonist isn't something that will make them happy. Now go."

Fine. I looked around to see the way forward and noticed two small, green creatures running somewhere. The image from a guide to space fauna came to my mind right away: sprats. Tiny little creatures that apparently live almost everywhere in the world. I'll follow these and see where they lead. Surely they know their way around.

The sprats led me on a small little road, past a half-eaten body of a human and two dog-like animals that didn't seem friendly enough to walk past them normally. Were they the ones who ate the person? I didn't feel like finding out, and sneaked past hiding in the grass. This feels like some kind of shitty action movie. Or a joke. Surely this can't be a joke?

The road led into a cave, and the sudden change in light and a somewhat bad landing worsened my headache. I took a few steps and leaned on a wall, fighting the urge to lay down on the ground and curl up like a hedgehog trying to defend itself from the bad things around it. Of course, a migraine, as if the situation wasn't bad enough.

Back when I was a child, I used to get migraines often, but I haven't had any for a few years now. This one felt even worse than I remembered. I took a few deep breaths and wondered what could've triggered it. Dehydration? Hunger? Being on a strange new planet my body wasn't used to? Or was it the fucking escape pod?

I continued walking forward slowly, leaning on the wall with one hand. My vision became blurrier every step and the ringing in my ears got stronger, but as I barely managed not to trip over one of the sprats skittering in front of my leg, it all suddenly stopped.

And so did the time.

I watched the sprat, a critter which previously ran quite fast, move slower than a snail.

One blink, and everything went back to normal.

"What the f-" I muttered before crashing on the ground.

"Careful now," Phineas murmured. I barely registered the words he said after as I was slowly getting back up. Something about side effects of hibernation. Yeah right.

The headache seemed to have eased for now, leaving the fatigue as my only company. He could've at least let me drink some water first before stuffing me into an escape pod.

"Hey, who's there?" A voice asked, coming from the cave further part of the cave.

I managed to walk a bit further and saw a man sitting on a bench, supplies laying around. The man himself was wounded, not lethally but still badly.

He noticed me and gestured to come closer. "Okay, good, now..." He took a deep breath, and instead of what could've been a greeting, began, "You've tried the best, now-" he paused again, wincing from pain, "-now try the rest. Spacer's Choice. Oh Law, that stings."

What the hell was that? I looked around and noticed some first aid supplies in a box. It's been years since I took the first aid course, but it was better than nothing. "Sit still, I'll patch you up."

The man, who introduced himself as guard Pelham while I was doing all I could remember about dealing with such wounds, watched me do it all with a worried face. Do I look as unsure as I actually am?

Yet once I was done, he looked at his side and smiled. "Looks like the bleeding stopped, I owe you one. Though, I hope you don't mind me omitting this little exchange from my report. Spacer's Choice doesn't like us accepting outside help."

"Spacer's wha-" I stopped myself from finishing the sentence. Was this guy so worried I'll tell his supervisors I helped him? "Never mind. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you. Might've bled out on my own. Or worse, would've had to beg our boss to give us some Adrena-Time."

"Wait. Aren't you supposed to get a sick leave for this so your wound would heal?"

"Sick what?"

"Paid time off work? So you can rest?"

"That's a funny joke. Why would someone be paid for resting?"

"Are you telling me you-" I stopped and sighed, muttering quietly to myself, "Where the hell did I end up?"

"You're acting a bit weird. Did you hit your head or something? You're in Emerald Vale, a Spacer's Choice community. You know what that is, right?"

"Uhhhhh...no. Sorry, my thoughts are all over the place now. Just woke up after long hibernation."

"Oh. That explains what you're wearing. Where did you travel from?"

"...Earth?"

Pelham laughed. "Joking again, are you? That's alright, keep your secrets."

"What? I'm not joking, I-" Could Phineas be telling the truth? "Um. Do you know anything about the Hope?"

"The what? Is that some new Auntie Cleo drug? You're not one of them, are you?"

What the fuck? "Um. No. Sorry. What year is it?"

"2355. Man, you sure you're alright?"

We left in 2285... "Um. Yeah, definitely. Sorry." I really need to change the topic. "Uh. How did you end up here, anyway?"

"We were patrolling the area. There's an illegally grounded ship there, and we're looking for its owner."

That must be Hawthorne's ship. "Really, where?"

"That way," he pointed at the entrance blocked by the canisters. "But, there's Marauders there. Thought I could take them out, but then my gun misfired. So, I barricaded myself here. If they try to come, I'll deal with all of them in one shot." The guard smirked, clearly proud of himself.

"Right, great." The migraine symptoms were slowly starting to come back and I realized that I really need to continue to look for that ship. "Whatever. Listen, I really need to get out of this cave. Can you help me move these canisters so I could go?"

"Why bother moving them when you can just blow them up?" The guard picked up the gun laying next to him and handed it to me, along with extra ammo. "You'll definitely get really far with all that ammo. Sorry that I can't give you one more, it's stuck in my side."

"Uh, thanks," I took the gun and looked at it. I've never fired a gun, can't even remember ever holding one. They were heavier than they looked. Though, the fact that something so small could be lethal...

"Everything alright?" Pelham asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I noticed my left hand was holding my side, right where the wound was a few months ago. Wait, not months. Seventy years ago. I sighed and nodded quickly. What a mess.

"Good. Now, just aim at the canisters and shoot. Easy as a pie. Just make sure you're not too close to them."

"I- Um, alright." I walked back from the canisters and raised the gun with my trembling hands. Why can't this all be just a bad dream? I thought before pulling the trigger.

#my writing #my ocs #asks #oc: tobias #the outer worlds #the outer worlds oc #captain of the unreliable #yes i messed up w/ the cave + ttd part i know it's in anothr part of the way. idc </3 #anyway hehe him :) he's not vibing #this ended up being longer than i hoped tbh but oh well! ended up cutting out the marauder part too that would've come next bc it was #becoming too long #also yes i changed the conversation a little 😌

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weemsfreak · 11 months

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The Board Pt 10: The Trip

Larissa Weems x Anura Ricci ~2700 words

I think this is the second last part of Anuras story! Fluff

Pt 9

The drive to Jericho went by slowly, yet too fast. Slowly because you couldn't wait to see Larissa, but fast because you didn't know what to say when you got there. 'Hi, I know you weren't expecting me so soon, but I couldn't stay away from you any longer?' No. "Hi, I bought a house and I'm moving here?' No. 'Hi, I like you a lot, I can't stop thinking about you, Larissa?' No! God, why did you feel the need to plan every single thing. Why couldn't you just go with the flow. On the drive to Nevermore, you thought back to the times you've hung out with Larissa.

That one time at the Weathervane, that night at trivia, the dance, the night you stayed over, the times you lied for her, the time she stole your cigarette, the time you did archery together, the time she caught you smoking in the flowers. Oh yes, when she caught you smoking in the flowers. A glorious introduction, a fitting one. You've gotten to know Larissa over the days that you've spent together, even though it seems like you didn't deliberately ask anything about her. Did she know you as much as you knew her? Did she feel as close to you as you felt to her? Well, it's better late than never. You turned on Arctic Monkeys '505' as you drove down the winding roads to Jericho. Yes, you would go back to Larissa, if it was a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive. You would absolutely adore her with her hands around your neck…you got caught up in the song. Alas, it's true. You'd go to her however far away she was, no matter how hard it would be to get there, and you'd push anyone who dare get in your way out of it, you'd push them into the fiery depths of hell if you had to.

Pulling up though the gates of Nevermore, you hoped Larissa would let you stay there until you could move into your new house. You parked your car and stepped out, breathing in the fresh air. This was your new start. You were happy with your new start. You left your bags in the car, your first mission was to find Larissa. As you made your way slowly to her office, you took in your surroundings. Nevermore felt different when you weren't here on business. It felt calmer, more beautiful, perhaps you were just happier. You stood in front of her office doors and stared at yourself in the gold plaque that read "Principal Weems". You felt relieved, confident even. You brought your hand up to knock on the door. You still didn’t know what you wanted to say to her. Maybe you would pretend that this wasn't a big deal. Maybe you'd pretend you were here for another visit, and at the right time, you'd tell her everything. Yet, you were met with silence. You knocked again and waited. Silence. You didn’t know where to find her, she could be anywhere at 4pm on a school day. You made your way to your temporary quarters, perhaps they would be unlocked.

Walking up to the quarters you stayed in when you visited Nevermore, you stopped when you saw the door was already open. Was someone else staying here? You reluctantly walked up to the open door and you were met with someone inside. They were standing in the living area, facing the window to the balcony. You looked around, nobody else seemed to be in here, no luggage, no presence, except hers. Larissa Weems, your Larissa Weems was standing in your temporary quarters. Why? You didn’t know, but honestly it didn’t matter. A huge grin appeared on your face when you took her in from behind. The knee length grey dress with a short matching coat that showed off her ass. Her hair done up elegantly, curled and held up with pins. Her kitten heels, which you thought were absolutely adorable, despite her already being taller than everyone. The jewellery on her arms that hung beside her, her gold watch and bracelet with eyes on it, watching you watch her from behind. You couldn't stand there any longer, you missed this woman so much. You ran up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist, placing your head in the crook of her neck. She gasped as she turned on her heels, somehow breaking out of your embrace. When you looked up at her and she realized who it was, she wrapped her long arms around you and tightened her grip so hard you couldn't breathe right. Still, you smiled and reached up to kiss her cheek, not once, not twice, but three times. "Anura Ricci, what are you doing here?" she chirped, disbelief sounding in her voice. "Larissa Weems, I fucking missed you" you mumbled into her neck, tears wanting to spill in your eyes. You smartened up though, you wouldn't be crying right now. She backed away to get a good look at you, and a gentle smile graced her face. "Why are you here already? I thought you were going to visit me, but not for another month." You looked lovingly into her eyes, you didn’t want to stay away from her for that much longer, you couldn't. "Larissa, I was worried about you. I know you let on like you're alright but, I needed to make sure that was true." Larissa pouted as she looked at you, sincerity written on her face. "I-I'm so sorry Anura, for what happened last time we were together. I'm so grateful that you came back to me." You embraced her again, nuzzling your face into her hair. "I couldn't stay away from you, Riss" you mumbled. You were being more truthful with her than you wanted to, but you couldn't hold back, you didn't want to any longer. Feeling vulnerable just like you, Larissa whispered into your hair. "I wish you would stay here Anura. I know you live in New York and I know you have a husband, but I wish you could stay here, with me." You smiled, knowing that you would be staying and knowing that you wanted the same. You thought having a proper conversation with her would be best, you wanted to make it special. Hopeful she would say yes, you cupped her cheek and smiled your biggest smile at her. "Larissa, can I make you dinner tonight? Will you come back later for dinner and wine?" She smiled back at you with her teeth and nodded her head, grabbing your face and giving a kiss to your forehead.

A few hours later, you were cooking up fettuccine carbonara and opening a bottle of Nebbiolo red wine. You dressed in your nicest black dress pants and your new emerald and black brocade corset, one Larissa has never seen before. You pushed the boxes containing your things into a corner, you'd unpack them tomorrow. Just as the pasta was finished, a knock came at your door. You opened it with a smile to see Larissa smiling back. She was wearing a tight fitting red dress, low cut, something you've never seen her wear before. Your eyes trailed up and down her body, and you stuttered out a weak hi. She chuckled at you as you moved aside to let her in. "These are for you" she giggled, holding white roses out to you. Taking them, you held them in your hands and admired them. White roses, did she already know? "New beginnings" you mumbled. You looked up at her, "Thank you so much Riss." Gesturing for her to sit at the table, you grabbed the wine and poured two glasses, handing her one. "I made one of my favourite pastas, I hope you like it" you smiled. "I'm sure it's amazing, darling" she said, taking a sip of her wine. You realized then that you never asked her about her diet or what she liked, besides chocolate. You really didn't know too much about this woman. "I just realized I didn't ask what you could eat. Do you have any food aversions?" you asked nervously. "Oh no, no, I'll eat anything" she laughed.

As she dug in to the pasta, she let out pleasant hums. You turned your head to the side as you laughed at her vocalness, she was too cute. "So I take it you like it?" you asked sarcastically. She looked over to you with pasta in her mouth and nodded her head fast. "It's really good Anura, is it your own recipe?" "Yes, I used to make it with my mother" you smiled. "What kind of wine is this? It's delicious" she chirped. "It's Nebbiolo, goes great with pasta. Straight from Italy" you winked. "Just like you" she hummed. You laughed out loud and twirled your glass in your hand, "Yes, just like me." Larissa seemed to know a few things about you, but you wanted to know more about her. When you first met, you guessed some things about her that turned out to be true, and you instantly felt a connection. In reality, you didn't know how much she knew about you, or if she felt the same connection that you did. "So Larissa, I really don’t know much about you, care to enlighten me?" She looked at you hesitantly and licked her lips before she looked down at the table. "There's not much to me, honestly" she said as she let out a low chuckle. Your brows furrowed, of course there were things to her, about her, but maybe she didn't want to tell. "Oh, I'm sure there is much to you. Interesting or not, I'd be happy to get to know you better." She sighed and gave you a small smile, "Okay." She told you about her path to becoming the headmistress of Nevermore, and about her time as a student. She likes reading about the Victorian era and the history of outcasts of all abilities. She likes historical fashion (obviously, you thought) and she loves seafood, you noted that for later. In her younger days she loved to dance, but she quit because her instructor as well as peers told her that she was too tall. "Love you're not too tall to dance, you're elegant and graceful, I think you'd dance beautifully" you chirped. She grinned as a blush formed on her cheeks, and she looked away from you. "I don't know" she giggled. You reached your hand out take hers, "I know, I know you would." You watched as her eyes averted to your boxes in the corner, and she blinked in confusion. "Anura, why do you have so much luggage?" You didn't know weather to smile or frown. You were excited to tell her that you were staying, but at the same time you didn't know what she would think. "Um, do you want to move to the couch?" She nodded her head.

Filling your glasses of wine, you settled down on the couch next to her. She looked at you intently, waiting for you to talk. Your face lit up as you looked at her, her beauty glowing in what rays of the sun were left as it set. "Larissa, I have to tell you something, well a few things, actually." She tilted her head in question as you watched her smile fall to a frown. "It's nothing bad" you giggled. "I'm moving to Jericho. I bought a house, and I move in a month." You watched as she tried to wrap her brain around her words, were you serious? It took a few seconds, but her face lit up as she looked at you excitedly. "What! Anura, really?" she smiled, grabbing your hand. "Yes, really" you giggled. Her face dropped again, "Wait, what about your job? Will you not work for the board anymore? What will I do without you?" she breathed. You held in a laugh, you were glad that she felt comfortable with you, that's what made this next thing the best. "Well, I can still work for the board since I move around so much, but they agreed to keep me on and just let me cover Nevermore. I think I want to open my own place and tutor, and teach language studies" you excitedly chirped. She pursed her lips and she looked at you with adoration, "Oh Anura, I'm so happy for you." "Thank you" you giggled. She brought her hand up to squeeze at your arm as she looked down at you. "What about your husband, is he moving here too?" the older woman questioned.

You noticed her smile faltered when she asked this. Perhaps she just didn't like him, for good reason of course. You looked at the floor, "No, uh- him and I aren't together anymore" you trailed off. The way you admitted this made Larissa think that you were sad about it, but in reality, you just didn't know how to tell her because you didn't know what she would think. "Oh Anura, I'm so sorry" she mumbled, quickly pulling you into a hug. As you rested your head on her shoulder, you smiled. "It's alright Larissa, I ended things with him. It was the right thing to do." Larissa pulled away gazing into your eyes, expecting to see you sad, but all she found was happiness. Her worry faded and she smiled, letting out a content sigh. "I'm happy for you, darling" she breathed. There was silence for a minute as you two stared at each other, soaking up the moment you had together right now. "Can I ask you something?" the older woman almost whispered. "Of course" you smiled. "Why do you want to move here, and why did you leave your husband?" Why did you do all of this? That was a good question, one you had an answer for. Did you want to tell her the truth though? She already knew most of it. You looked away again. "I just wanted a new start. I wasn't happy anymore, where I was, literally and figuratively" you chuckled. You looked back up at her, "Can I tell you something?" She nodded her head and reached for your hand again, you gladly took it. "I moved here knowing that I like the atmosphere, knowing that I could find a job here, knowing that I could get away from things that follow me here. But, I moved here knowing that you are here, and I don't know if you want to be friends, or acquaintances, or- or more, hell, I don't even know if you like women" you shook you head and chuckled, "but it really doesn't matter to me Riss. I'm just so happy that I got to see you again, and we can see each other in anyway you'd like. I'm alright with whichever you choose." The woman blinked at you with wide eyes as her mouth fell open, she looked like she couldn't believe what you just admitted. She looked down at your interlocked hands and pursed her lips, then she reached for you and pulled you to lie on top of her. "Oh shit" you giggled, realizing that you were now gazing down at her, your face so close to hers. She smiled and cupped your cheeks, "Kiss me, Anura" she whispered. You paused for a second, you've wanted to kiss her for so long, but now it felt scary. You looked at her lips as you slowly brought yours to hers, kissing her gently and savouring the taste of her. She kissed you back with passion, the same that you felt for her. You tangled your fingers in her hair, and feeling her softness and her tenderness against you made you whimper into her mouth. You kissed for what felt like forever, but still not long enough. She parted from you to catch her breath, letting out a giggle. You kissed her cheek and placed your head into the crook of her neck. "I adore you, Larissa Weems." "And I, you, Anura Ricci."

#larissa weems #principal larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #lesbian #principal weems #larissa weems fanfic #so gay omg #larissa x reader

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acknowledgetheabsurd · 1 year

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My dear, if I had not sent this letter tomorrow morning for you to receive it Monday after this so arid Sunday, I think I would have waited until the night passed to write to you, for I find myself this evening in such a state of nerves, of extreme fatigue and of dry despair that I can only hope for one thing, a peaceful sleep that does not seem to come. I would have liked to go to bed early, taking advantage of the day off. It's 1:30 in the morning and I've just gone to bed at the last minute. That's my day.

After a short night (five and a half hours of sleep) and ploughing through insane nightmares, I got up at 7:30, weary, dumb, empty mind, absent heart, my eyes cloudy and shivering from the cold. At 9 o'clock, after looking for a taxi for twenty minutes, I finally arrived at the radio station. With a hoarse, broken voice, I mumbled the text of a few scenes from The Exchange, but as Germaine Montero was shooting and had to leave at 10:30, we didn't finish the recording, as we had planned. They kept me there until half past twelve - on the pretext of working on my monologue - but for the sole reason that we had to occupy the studios that we'd booked for a certain number of hours until the last minute. I went home, already in a very bad mood. The tyranny of the administration is not made to please me, and my lunch with Wattier lasted until 3:30. She kept talking about numbers, trade ratings, gold weight values, foals, dealers, etc. I was in a very bad mood.

At 3:30 p.m., Pitou had to come. So I waited for her without doing anything at first, until 4:30. I took a book. The first Proust. I hung on to the first page. At 5 o'clock, Pitou called. She could not come. I read all the time. With Angeles being out, she won't be back until tomorrow morning. I prepared and served dinner. Dad was in a bad way. He couldn't talk, let alone eat. From 10:00 to 11:00, we wanted to watch the "Who Are You?" quiz together, but Dad was getting worse and worse and he was getting angry. I decided to get him ready for the night and go to bed. It was 11 o'clock. Alas! By the time I tried to clean the heater, it was too late. The fire was almost out, the stove was cold. Then a scene began - I'll spare the details - in which I tried to convince my father to let me turn it on again. There was nothing to be done. He got more and more angry. He could talk less and less. Just bits and pieces of words. Helpless gestures. Coughing. Choking. I gave up and took the electric heater to his room. Then I helped him change his pajamas. Dream! We started at a quarter to midnight and finished at a quarter to one. An hour and a half to take off a jacket, a wool shirt, and put on a shirt, a jacket, and a sweater! As for me, I didn't burst into tears by some miracle. I could no longer feel pain, pity, helplessness and love.

Now here I am. A little spiky, a little twisted. I'm in pain, my darling, in all that pain you can't do anything about. And this day after day, month after month, year after year. How can he? At last! Let's wait until tomorrow. The first shot of serum. Let's hope so. I've reread your letter. Oh! Yes, you're better and life comes flooding back and I hear again the familiar words ("useless vertigo") and again the fury and the lyricism and the poetry and the demands ("be austere, wear strict clothes, cloister yourself"). Ah! how I love it when you demand! Yes, my darling, here you are strong again, triumphant, alive, wrapped again in all your characters, closed, defended, armed. And if it is infinitely sweet to have you against me, stripped of everything, naked and shivering, I am deeply happy to know you as you are at this moment. Work, laugh, eat, sleep and come back to me radiant with happiness. Oh my love! I'm stopping - tomorrow morning I'll go on. I'll read. I would like to forget myself a little. Good night, darling.

Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, January 20, 1950 [#139]

#albert camus #camus #absurd #absurdism #maria casares #correspondance #love letters #love #heart #despair #fatigue #father #cold #pain #pity #happiness

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

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Wednesday 8 July 1835

7 40

11 40

no kiss very rainy morning and 59 ½° at 8 25 am a little while in the barn and stabling - breakfast at 9 - fair about or before 10 - in and out then till 12 ¼ - wrote the following and sent it by George at 12 ½ to ‘J.E. Norris Esquire secretary of the Halifax District of the West Riding Election committee’ ‘Miss Lister begs to enclose to the secretary of the Halifax district, fifty pounds, the amount of her subscription towards the election of the honourable John Stuart Wortley for the West Riding. Shibden Hall Wednesday 8 July 1835’ - George returned in ½ hour bringing back the note Mr Norris being ill in bed and George not thinking it right to leave the note in the hands of Mr N-‘s clerk whom he (George) saw at the White Swan - till 2 ¼ wrote and copied letter to Mr Bewsher asking what steps I ought to take to get permission to have my model of Switzerland (daily expecting its arrival from Geneva - 7ft. 4 by 4.8in. (French) forwarded to me here, unopened - Messrs. Hammersley will pay for me any expense and duty required and give any information respecting the prime cost - then went downstairs to speak to Marian and she kept me talking till 3 40 - afraid I shall not die so rich my uncle left me, alas, afraid I shall ruin - will keep me - buy in my books for me and allow me £300 a year - but would not buy a foot of the estate - would do for me but nothing for the estate - very much obliged to her, but hope........ promise to send George and my own cart with our dirty things so as to save John Booth once a week - Marian no good humour at first but my calmness and temper got her right and I believe she likes and respects me more than she does anybody else said I could not remove my mother’s bones to Halifax my father having the right over these and Marian being his ssole executrix - out at 3 40 down the old bank to Mr Parker’s office - nobody at home - went to Whitely’s - paid A-‘s and my aunt’s and my own bill there - then back to Mr Parkers - still nobody but a young clerk or writer writing out notices of claiming a licence for Northgate house in the name of Thomas Greenwood - left a note on the desk asking for my bill up to 1 July and to know what Messrs. Alexander ask for 3 navigation shares and observing that the last Wakefield road divided is not entered in my cash account - asked also to whom I should send my subscription to the Wes Riding election - returned by John Bottomley’s - saw him - he is building a dry-walling cow-place - then to George Naylor’s - saw him in the potato field just below the quarry - he and Freeman much disappointed not to have it - F- had set it about that he was to have it and everyone believed it -‘he had some of my papers had he not?’ no! and I supposed he never would have - but if he himself said anything of this (GN- said it was done in Mr Briggs’s time) I knew what he must allude to - on my uncle’s death I had much to pay and not much to receive and I gave F- my bond for some money but it had been paid off a year or 2 before Mr B-‘s death - Like other people I might sometimes want money and sometimes have to spare but however this might be I had all my papers at home and should keep them there - those people who would not take my note of hand or bond might keep their money for anything I cared - home at 6 20 - dinner at 6 ½ - coffee - sometime with my father and Marian - then 20 minutes with my aunt till 9 ¼ at which hour tea downstairs - skimmed over the paper - wrote the last 25 lines of today - fine after rain (showers) during the morning till about 1 - F61° now at 10 35 pm - went to George N- to tell him that he must go and pay his rent to Washington = the rate of £50 per annum and then get himself registered as a voter - he will go on Saturday - afraid if he was a blue nobody would buy milk or anything of him - oh! said I never mind - never what you are - you may give a yellow vote for anything they know - but get registered I don’t want to hurt you - he said farms should be lowered - well ! said I you give yours up, nobody else shall have it at the same rent - he joked and asked what I would give him for giving up - oh! get a valuer - Washington will value for me - I’ll take you at your word - and you may step into Pickells’s shoes, and live at Whiskam cottage and look after things for me - he said if he could get 2 days a week carting of Hainsworth, he would keep his 3 horses - if not must sell one at least - asked me £30 for a good brown horse aetatis 7 this spring

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ajaxhearts · 2 years

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could we be friends? pt. 2

.•ꕤ.•ꕤ*.•ꕤ*.•ꕤ*

“welcome!” y/n greeted, feeling eccentric to have a guest. hoping said guest would feel like it was their own house. “wow.” was all he could say. mesmerized by the atmosphere. “come inside the living room and have a seat on the couch, ill go get some spare clothes for you.” “alright.” they then came out of their room, with some pants and a shirt in their hand.

“oh! i forgot! i unfortunately don’t have any mens underwear…. i'll go run to the store to get you a pair!” they quickly rushed outside, off to the store, not giving him a chance to retort. “welp, there they go” 10-15 minutes later, y/n came back huffing and puffing, out of breath. at least they got what seungmin needed, right? “hello i am back!” they started, handing him a one-size-fits-all pack of mens underwear. “well, thank you. you didn’t need to though, i could’ve gone to the store myself.” “but you’re my guest, you deserve to be treated like a prince” a prince?! what did i do to be treated like a prince?!

he was somewhat flustered, not knowing what to say after that one slightly flirtatious comment. “a prince huh? didn’t know you were so fond of me, your highness.” he retaliated, hoping he’d fluster them as well. “your highness… i like it. keep calling me that.” they winked. “now go take a shower, stink bag.” they walked off, leaving him there not knowing where the shower is. “OH! the showers to your left.” they came back for a few, letting him know where to go.

alas, they walked off, leaving him alone; again. 30 minutes have passed, seungmin checks the clock after changing into clothes, y/n had offered. “hey! you’re finally done.” turning off the tv, they walked over to the wet haired boy. “was i really that long in the shower?’ “kinda… yeah… you were in the shower for almost an hour. god knows what you do in there” “hey! what are you implying?” “nothing…” having a grin on their face, they walk back to the main foyer and gesture for him to come closer.

“so… my prince, what do you want to do?” “i believe we should watch more tv, your highness.” “okay then, only for you.” y/n said in a modestly flirtatious tone. “what’s with all this flirting all of a sudden? this is new.” “i don’t know, maybe i’ve started to like you a little.” “if you keep flirting like this, please do know i won’t fall for any of it.” “noted. don’t come running to me when you’ve fallen in love with me.” “wow, bold are we?” “bold is my middle name. now let’s watch some tv!”

a few hours had passed, it was now 8 in the evening and god they were starving. “ugh, im so hungry.” y/n said to seungmin, holding their stomach. “so am i.” seungmin started, hoping they’d get food somewhere. “soo where should we get food?” “you said we were getting food? im cooking! but.. i have to ask you.” “yeah? what’s up?” “would you like to stay? stay for dinner and hopefully as a best friend.”

#stray kids #kpop #seungmin #skz

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eloves-writes · 3 years

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a failed attempt to hate you

(tristan dugray)

a/n: i can only apologise if this writing is terrible, i wrote most of this in the middle of the night hopped up on medication for my disgusting cold. i hope it makes sense. anywho thanks for reading, enjoy, mwah <3

screw mr medina for making you help tristan study. you knew he knew from rory your inherent disdain for him, and it wasn’t your fault he was falling behind therefore not your responsibility to help him (as you had told mr medina last tuesday, with no effect). it was now sunday morning and you held little hope he would actually show up this time; he had somehow managed to cancel on your little study date 6 times already and it had only been 5 days since you were handed this apparently mammoth task. honestly, you didn’t expect him to show up at all, especially not anytime before noon- for which reasons you had made the decision put on your usual lazy sunday morning reading in bed get-up, which included (but was not limited to) an oversized rock concert shirt rory’s friend lane had given you in an attempt to clear her closet of non-christian attire, nothing but underwear underneath since you wouldn’t plan on leaving the comfort of your bedsheets for many hours, and a loose silk scrunchie you accidentally stole from rory keeping your hair out of your eyes.

your book of choice today was ‘harry potter and the goblet of fire’ , the most recently released chapter of the boy wizard’s adventures at hogwarts. the clock beside you read 9:15 as you comfied yourself for a morning of magic and adventure, which naturally was ended a mere 8 minutes later at 9:23 when the doorbell rang downstairs. you assumed your mother would answer it, but when it rang a second time you remembered your parents had both gone out to watch your sibling’s soccer match and you’d have to get it yourself.

it didn’t even cross your mind to put pants on, or that it may not be the postman at the door, until you opened it to see your very favourite chilton student whose eyes had hastily wandered to your bare legs. typical high school boy, you thought to yourself before your brain actually grasped the situation and kick started into action.

‘tristan. hi.’ you said with a slight shock in your voice.

‘erm, hi. i hope i’m not interrupting anything,’ he smirked, glancing down at your thighs again.

you rolled your eyes so aggressively you hoped mr medina could hear it from wherever he was spending his day, irritating boy-less and free to do whatever he wanted with his time.

‘you’re not,’ you quipped. ‘i just didn’t expect you to actually show up this time. and early may i add, i’m sure we said 11.’

‘we did, but i’ve got plans later so i thought i’d come by earlier and get this over with.’

‘how did you know i didn’t have plans? i might have been busy before 11.’

he pulled a face of amusement and you could swear you saw a hint of sarcasm shining through his eyes too. ‘right. are you done talking now or can i come in?’

‘you can come in, i guess,’ you sighed, closing the door behind him and showing him to the kitchen table. ‘wait here, i’ll go and get my books.’

‘grab some pants whilst you’re at it.’

‘stop talking,’ you called as you walked upstairs.

you came back downstairs a few minutes later fully-clothed and carrying your english notes to see that tristan had wandered from the chair you specifically remembered telling him to sit in, and was instead tracing a finger along the bookcase that stretched across the far wall of your living room. for a moment you just watched him nosey into your life; the framed certificates, the family photos, the 5 tapes of ‘beauty and the beast’ stacked atop of each other because it was your favourite film when you were 9 and practically every living relative had bought you a copy. beside those was a picture of you dressed as princess belle at disneyworld with chocolate ice cream smeared from cheek to cheek, a huge smile plastered between. tristan picked it up and turned to face you.

‘thoroughly adorable. seriously, you should go for this look more often.’

‘ha ha,’ you grimaced, snatching it off him and placing it back on the shelf. ‘are we studying or reminiscing on my past fashion choices?’

‘oo, someone’s in a good mood this morning huh,’ he teased. you pulled another face, once again silently cursing mr medina for completely ruining not just your day, but in fact your whole week. by god this boy got more irritating the more time you spent with him- it had only been 10 minutes, but it was 10 minutes longer than you ever previously had or ever wanted to.

‘can i get a drink before we start?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation and walking past you back into the kitchen. he began opening various cupboards, searching for a glass. ‘where’s the-’

‘why yes, tristan. you can have a drink,’ you snarked, opening the cupboard behind him with a dramatic flourish. he raised his eyebrows at you and reached forward to grab a glass, leaning over you as he did so. you caught a whiff of his cologne and almost forgot to dislike him for a moment.

‘there’s, um, soda in the ... fridge,’ you told him, voice unwillingly faltering as he looked down to meet your eyes. he had pretty eyes. pretty, blue, sparkling, stupid, annoying, asshole eyes.

you found the thick tension sickening. you refused to be another girl at school who simply swooned over him when he walked past your locker. you didn't like him. you were here to teach him english. because he was dumb. and actually, his eyes weren’t that nice.

he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and you both sat down at the table and began reading through your analysis of ‘to kill a mockingbird’, adamantly pretending not to see him staring at you the whole time.

why? he had had every popular and pretty girl in the whole of chilton, how was he ever so starved of female attention that he would look at you so admirably when you liked to make it clear you despised him? in fact, you enjoyed making a special effort to flip him off, or pull a face at him when he walked by, or kick his chair extra hard in spanish, or... oh shit. you had seen it from an outside point of view now, and it was glaringly obvious; maybe you did like him, just a little bit. shit. rory owed lorelai 10$ and a cheeseburger from luke’s, though you didn’t want to have to admit she was right when she’d said you were like a kindergarten boy pulling a girl’s ponytails because he thought she was pretty.

‘hey tristan,’ you started, breaking the comfortable silence between his questions and suddenly nervous to talk to him. stupid, it was still the exact same boy you’d been complaining about all week, nothing new.

he looked up from your notes. ‘what’s up princess?’

that was definitely new.

‘don’t call me princess’ -he smirked irritatingly- ‘do you need to stay much longer? i mean, is there anything else you want help with?’

‘trying to get rid of me?’

‘no! no. i just thought that you’d only stay and pretend to listen to me for like, half an hour then vanish. it’s 11:30 and you’ve been through my whole binder.’

‘it is? time flies.’

‘tristan.’

‘i do care about my grades, you know. and you’re a good teacher, i might have a chance at an A.’

‘why didn't you show up the last 6 times we planned then?’

he put down his pen- your pen, actually. it had pink sparkles on the lid. ‘got to keep up my street cred.’

‘ha ha. funny,’ you replied as blankly as possible, pulling back a smile you could feel in your stomach. you made eye contact again and, like every other time since you’d sat down and started studying, you held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary. funny how realising you like someone makes you suddenly act like it.

‘i should get going then right,’ he said, picking his jacket from the back of his chair.

you felt weird, almost as if you didn't want him to leave after praying earlier he wouldn't show up. alas, your parents would be home soon and you would be willing to bet money that tristan would have some interesting jokes about your being home alone that would not slide with your dad.

‘yeah. i hope you get that A,’ you said, accidentally smiling as you walked him to the door.

tristan turned to lean on the frame of the now-open door and put on a face of mock surprise. ‘my, my, y/n. was that a kind comment and a smile? you’re spoiling me.’

‘shut up, i hope you fail.’

he smiled back. ‘you really mean that?’

‘i guess not.’

there was yet another beat of heavy silence.

‘see you monday.’

you closed the front door as he walked down the drive, but noticed tristan’s car keys still sat on the kitchen table. a porsche, of course. you picked them up and reopened the door to his fist poised to knock. the two of you laughed awkwardly for a second.

‘i forgot my-’

‘you forgot your-’

another awkward laugh. jesus christ this was uncomfortable. you passed him the keys, and with absolutely no warning at all, your lips were suddenly met with his. they were soft and confident, and his free hand held your face as you tried to process the new situation. you quickly melted into the kiss, letting him take control until he pulled away and smiled that sparkly smile you didn't hate as much as you tried to.

‘didn't see that one coming,’ you said breathily, brushing some loose hairs off of your face.

‘i knew you didn’t hate me.’

‘ever the arrogant twat.’

‘hey, does this mean you’ll stop kicking my chair in spanish?’

‘absolutely not. in fact, i think i’ll kick it harder.’

‘as long as you let me do that again.’

tags: @leossmoonn for inspiring me to start writing again, @account123445 & @lmaoidekanymore6 for asking me to post tristan fics! (couldn’t figure out how to make the tags work but if you read this, you know ✨)

#tristan dugray #tristan gilmore girls #chad michael murray #gilmore girls #gilmore girls fic #gilmore girls fanfiction #can't think of anymore tags so i'll just hope this does ok on its own

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youn9racha · 3 years

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I Know (Part I)

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Genre: suggestive

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight adult content, swearing, suggestive actions, elements of stalker behavior

Extra notes: characters mentioned are all above the age 21 years, a lot of hatred towards the male figure lol. Also this is my first time writing on tumblr, so please bare with me, it may not be the best, but I still hope you enjoy it :)

And baby, I know, I know whatever city you’re in, you’re still the boy that I’d pick…

part ii is up !!!

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This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised

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Men…

Truly the scums of the Earth, who do no good for no one, and are an absolute menace to society. But oh, do I enjoy the looks of their faces at times. The way they would look at me with full hope and infatuation, with full beliefs that I would step down and give them all they want from me.

Hmph. How cute… and pathetic. How pathetic to assume and lower my standards for them. They all are the same. All but one however.

All that men hating… and yet, only one I’d be willing to go down to his level.

Yes, its him… He whom a lot would have not sought to be with, not many would expect a bombshell like myself would be with. But I do not see that in him, not an ounce of what many insecure individuals would see. I see something striking that not many could see, an underrated dignified beauty that anyone could wish to admire. A fanciable and irresistible personality and face.

He was a man.. but a pleasant one.

It all started when I moved in into a new flat for myself. I previously left the old complex due to the cramped environment I had that left me feeling uneasy and stressed, as well as it wasn’t even my apartment, it was for my partner, well, ex-partner. It was simply wasn’t working out, due to our seeming never ending conflicts. But enough of the past, let us move on..

I found this flat that is comfortable and the rent pays well, its only downside is that my room’s window is faced to the next door’s flat, however it’s not a big detriment or big turn off for me so it was fine by me, and also it was prone to have random, yet rare, blackout, but then again what neighborhood doesn’t have that. Anyhow, I was set to take the complex, but before I did, I have noticed something about the neighbor’s window next to me. It was a man. A really good looking one too. Giving his side profile, he was laying on his bed, his black hair covered head bopping with earphones placed in ears, laptop placed in his revealing shorts adorned lap. My eyes began started to stare into his arms then onto his naked well built chest, which indicates that he likes to keep up with his health, as his ring adorned hands was tapping away in his keyboard. I quickly looked away when I saw him repositioned his laptop, and walked out of the soon-to-be my room.

Great… I’ve entered Hell.

But I didn’t let it affect my decisions and got the apartment nonetheless, here I am now, weeks after the incident, sitting in my car, outside of the building, still thinking about the man in his laptop. Has he noticed that I was staring at him? Does he know that there’s gonna be someone living next to him? I hope not. And if he has, I must apologize to him. But before that, let me unload my car. I have gradually put my stuff into the complex as the days go by, it seems dragging, but it felt like the time went by fast, so I’m glad I have done that. However, today was different, as I took stuff more than I usually did, as I desperately do not want to go back to my ex. Typically, I never had assistance, as usually my best friend would join in and help out, but at a time I needed them the most, they had to be really sick. They still were willing to help, but I insisted that they shouldn’t and should rest.

After thinking, I sighed and got out my car, ready to fight the battle that is putting my stuff into my complex. I opened the trunk, eyes meeting my stuff, and I begin to groan. ‘Dammit, (y/n), why do you have that many stuff?!’ I thought to myself. I really should’ve had at least one more visit to my ex, but alas I picked to just take all all together in one day. I picked up a box until..

“Need any help?” I heard someone behind me asking me. I turned around and looked at the source. ‘God damn, is it just me, or does this town just bring out more attractive people?’ I thought to myself, as I see a man that looked like he could be at a museum. He had a sandy brown curly hair, slightly tanned skin, really plump and a crazy jawline. He donned a tank top that barely covered his side torso, and basket ball shorts that complimented his really nice, thick… thighs… yeah… Needless to say he was really attractive.

It seems that I was ogling him, rather than responding, as he shyly smiled and waved his hand in front of my face, “hello,” he softly said as I shook my head and looked back at his face apologetically.

“I am so sorry, I am just really tired, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I cringed at my pathetic way of justifying of me literally internally lusting over him. I really am turning into someone I dread to be. How can I forgive myself?

“That’s okay, I know how moving can get tiring, and I sense that you’re alone, so please let me and my friend help you out.” He said, sympathetically smiling a sweet smile, already grabbing a box out of my hand. God, if this man has a partner, then they’re the luckiest person ever, and if he’s single, I’ll gladly hand him a ring. What am I saying? (y/n), what the hell has gotten into you?!

“I’m Christopher, but you can call me Chris or Chan, whichever you prefer is fine, what’s your name?” The generous man’s voice interrupted my inner battle and I found myself looking at him again. “(y/n)” I smiled at him, which he nodded back.

“Nice to meet you,” Chan said, looking back and see that his friend showed up, meanwhile, I went back to my trunk and got out more stuff from my car “oh, there he is!” Chan enthusiastically announced.

“(y/n), meet my friend and roommate, Changbin.” Chris said, while I got out the box and looked at the other man, my face shifted from contentment to horrific.

Its the man with the laptop.

“Hello? Chan, are you sure she’s okay?” Changbin looked at Chris with worry. “Yeah, she’s just tired, just nudge her.”

It’s like Chris knew me too well, despite meeting for less than 10 minutes, as Chris slightly pushed me with the box, not enough to hurt me, but enough to put me out of a trance.

“huh? I did it again, did I?” I looked at Chan, worryingly, which he nodded. I looked back at Changbin and the pathetic act was brought up again.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me.” I apologized once again, which Changbin only smirked. “Don’t worry about it,” He said, carrying a box. Something about that smirk and tone seems off. Not off in a menacing way, but off in a… coy way. Maybe not the best term to use, maybe I am just over analyzing, but I am for sure either winning the lottery tonight, or convinced that the sun will rise from the west tomorrow, since I have two very attractive men helping out, one of which is someone whom I may have an odd fascination for a while now.

The two have been nothing but a delight to interact with, their help with the stuff had done me even more than just a solid. However, I still in a way feel a bit unsettled by Changbin. It wasn’t that he was a creep, or did anything to make me uncomfortable, its just this feeling of guilt I carry with me. Meanwhile, I didn’t attempt anything, and I just simply just admired him from afar, it still felt wrong that I was just looking at him while he was barely wearing anything, let alone while not him paying attention. Despite this, it seems that he doesn’t know that I did what I did, which is why I chose to confront him about it when the time is right, which is probably when we start getting even more comfortable. I have exchanged numbers with both men, even though I could probably just go out my window and yell out their names, but I’d rather not disturb the peace.

Two good looking men are now my neighbors… Who would have thought? Whichever entity that is in existence have decided to play with me, because to them, my humiliation would be their laughing stock, because they definitely would have seen what is to become of me.

Its been a week in since I moved, and interacted with the two Chans, and I am glad that a curtain was installed onto my room, just so I wouldn’t carry even more guilt than I already do. But the thing is, I would lie that I still haven’t thought of Changbin. While I would have thought that Chris fitting into more of my ideal type, Changbin however held a mysterious power that Chan didn’t.

Ever since the time I first laid eyes on Changbin, he has never left my mind. He has started to creep up in my fantasies and dreams in every way shape of form. I couldn’t stop thinking of how his arms would look around my waist, how his lips would feel in my skin, or how his hands would wander around, exploring places that many men often fail to find to make me feel good, or how his voice would be like when talking as he puts his mouth by my ear— God, this is getting out of hand, I would think.

What if he had a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to women in general? What if he finds you a creep?

So many more endless questions would come in to ruin me, but its not like i have a choice, he just happened to settle into my dreams and thoughts, and went with it.

I decided to take a shower to try and distract myself from these thoughts, which didn’t help at all, as the hot water cascading my skin did nothing but accelerated my lustful thoughts. I decided to get out of the shower, as it didn’t help my case.

Damn you, Changbin.

I sighed, put on some underwear and a robe while having a towel wrapped around my hair. I got out of the bathroom and back to my room. It was dark out, and in my room, the only light came out of it were my night lamp, which barely lit up the whole room. I checked the window, making sure Changbin wasn’t there, or at least not facing the window, only to see his window being covered with curtains.

Great timing, could’ve used that when I first saw you, dipshit.

But nonetheless, I was really glad at least he wasn’t visible. I laid back on my bed, and decided to look through social media, as anyone should. While in the middle of a instagram scroll, I see a caller popping through at the top of the screen…

It was Changbin.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #changbin #changbin scenarios #changbin fanfic #changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #skz scenarios

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hardlyinteresting · 3 years

Text

Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #professor!zemo #daniel bruhl x reader #zemo #daniel bruhl #baron zemo x reader

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diavolosthots · 3 years

Note

REQUEST TIME FUCM YEA

Could u do reactions for if mc was like on vacation with the undatables and asked them to visit a local church with them ? U can decide if mc wants to go for spiritual reasons or just cuz its got good aesthetics (thinking like the asamkirche in münchen as example) !!! Also since its not romantic id be very thankful if u would include luke as well i love my son.

Thank you very much !!!!!

God i really hope you speak german or this next part would be awkward but: ich war in 2019 auf einer Kreutzfahrt und wir waren dann irgendwann in Ungarn und da gibt es ohne Zweifel die besten Kirchen 😩😩😩

THE UNDATEABLES visiting local churches with MC

Diavolo:

It’s not every day that he actually gets a day to do as he pleases, but there’s nothing better than spending a day with his favorite person: you! He’s very much interested in history and architecture, so seeing these, most likely, historical buildings makes him very happy. Hell, he could care less if it’s a church or not. It could be a grocery store from the 1890s and he’d swoon, as long as he can find some aspect of it that resembles art. Churches hold a sense of… tranquility, don’t you think? He adores staring at the paintings and colored glass. Personally, he’s more there for the aesthetic. It’s pleasing to the eye.

Barbatos:

Him? Having a day off? Unheard of. Yet, here we are, in a church. Did you know that it was built upon lies? He could, and would, go on a whole rant about christianity specifically, but alas he’s actually trying to enjoy his day with you so he doesn’t mind going in. He’ll even keep his mouth shut, although he’s internally mocking the guy so many people seem to worship. It could be worse, but it could be better, and as long as he doesn’t have to sit here and pray, he’s alright. He’s honestly kind of surprised that he hasn’t gone up in flames.

Simeon:

Although he has his own issues with religion as humanity depicts it, because it’s mostly just wrong and catering to just one side of the species, he does appreciate and finds it fascinating what people have done with it. Churches are works of art, in his opinion, and although human worship is questionable, he does like to just sit and listen, or even tell you of all the stories the colored windows are depicting and how they, or some of them at least, are wrong, lol. Take it from the angel directly. History 101 is about to happen MC, sit down.

Luke:

He honestly just loves, and I mean LOVES, going places. He’s a little adventurer at heart and seeing churches, or even just older buildings with lots of history, brings excitement to him. Much like Simeon, he’s quick to point out things humanity’s got wrong, but that doesn’t mean he can’t sit down, open up a hymn book, and start singing, praising, and worshipping. He’s completely in his element here and he loves to learn more about when and how this church was built. Buckle up MC, you may be stuck here for a while.

Solomon:

He doesn’t consider himself a believer in much, certainly not religion. Honestly, he also doesn’t find a lot of… fun in looking at old buildings. He’s more of the type of person that wants to go skydiving or do one of those safaris where the lions and other wild animals get really close to him. You’re the only reason he’s here but he’s also very much like a child and will complain about how long it’s taking sooner or later. The art catches his attention for about 10 minutes before he wants to leave, lol.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #barbatos obey me #obey me lord diavolo #simeon obey me #solomon obey me #obey me luke

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hoseokisgucci · 3 years

Text

You Lift Me Up

GENRE: Fluff and Smut

WORD COUNT: 5K

PAIRING: Taehyung x Reader

SUMMARY: Taetae here sees OC at the gym, one day helps her out a little when she gets injured and somehow ends up in her bed.

WARNING: Tbh there’s some oral in there (fem receiving), some body worship, a lil of undiscovered kinks showing a sneak peek, penetrative sex, a little dialogue heavy, Taehyung being softboi max.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I originally uploaded this without the smut, but then deleted it, and now I’m putting it up again because I finally got around to finishing it. I definitely wanted to write something gym related because its my safe space but I really also wanted to make it soft because IM AN IDIOT FOR PEOPLE FALLING IN LOVE/FINDING THEIR PEOPLE.

“How different would it be anyways? I’ll just ask someone for help if I need it. It’s not like I’ll be abandoned by everyone just because I don’t have a partner.”

“Hey! We didn’t abandon you!! We have exams. Our university made you lonely, not us.” Your friend squawked over the phone.

Taking advantage of this new found chink in her armor, you added, “Yes. An institution is more important than I am. I see how it is. Hungry, partner-less and overcome with despair. That’s my life now.”

She huffed, and you could just imagine her shaking her head at you. “You’re a heathen. I’ll buy you food. Now bye. Duty calls.”

You laughed out an affirmative and slid the phone into the side pocket of your gym bag. The university gym was located close to your dorms, which made it easier for you to haul your ass to the gym even on your lazy days. You were already wondering what it would be like without a partner. You always had friends with you at the gym, be it one or two. You never had to worry about spotting or support ever before, but now these questions crossed your mind. Scenarios where you dropped a dumbbell on your toe or worse, your face flashed before your eyes. You shuddered when a haunting crack resounded in your ears, the sound reminding you to be wary of heavy lifting while you were on your own.

Getting started on your workout was easy enough. A little warmup here, a bit of running and cycling there. The music pumping through your ears helped you keep up the pace as you cycled, body starting to sweat, lips mouthing the words of the song playing through your earphones. When you hit the 15-minute mark, you figured it would be alright to cycle for 5 more minutes.

Just as the song changed, and you looked down to check if the lever for your seat was proper, your heart came up to your throat as someone tapped you. With your hand over your heart, legs coming to a stop, you turned to see the most gorgeous man ever. Scratch that. The most gorgeous being ever.

Lost in your head, you only came to when you realized that his lips were supposed to be forming coherent sentences. That were aimed at you. Raising your hand, your palm faced towards him, you said, “Wait, I can’t hear you.” His lips grimaced, as if embarrassed and he nodded his head. When you turned off your music, paused your timer and turned to look at him, torso twisting in his direction, his eyes quickly snapped to yours, as if he wasn’t just checking out the swell of your ass perched on the tiny cycle seat. You raised your brows at him, which probably kickstarted his brain again. He gulped and said,

“How long will you take?”

You were about to retort and tell him that there were other cycles too, but when you turned the other way, you saw that all of them were occupied.

“Maybe around 4 more minutes.” He nodded in response, gave a quick smile, and when he was about to turn away, you tapped his hand, grabbing his attention once more. You didn’t know why you felt good, having those eyes on you. You were probably going crazy, you imagination making you see the electricity in them.

Rethinking about your situation, you said, “Actually, I’ll get off. I was just going to do some extra cycling, but you can get started.”

He shook his head, curly hair bouncing around as he said, “No no, please take your time. I’ll just stretch some while you’re getting done.”

You nodded your head and smiled at him, hoping that he could understand how grateful you were. You got back to cycling, starting up the movement of your legs once again. Without the music to keep you occupied your eyes wandered to the mirror in front of you. As you scanned your surroundings, you noticed the guy from before, stretching his arms, gazed fixed on your form. The intensity with which he kept looking at you almost made your legs flounder, but you concentrated on maintaining your momentum.

Sighing inwardly, your eyes moved backed to him. He hadn’t noticed you looking at him, because he wasn’t focused on your face, but rather your ass. Wanting to add fuel to the fire, you stuck your ass out a little more and arched your back a little more, making your body look a little more tantalizing. As you did this, you could see his eyes widen a little, hands now hanging limp. You discreetly kept looking at him, and could see him scan your form, his gaze focusing on your face. You cycled a bit more aggressively, the motion moving you from side to side.

If he was watching, you might as well give him a good show. When you eyed him again, he was bent over, legs spread wide, hands touching the ground, stretching. But his eyes, they didn’t leave you, or rather, your butt, even once.

Your timer beeped, signaling the end of your 20 minutes. You slowed down your legs and sat there, catching your breath. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, your cheeks were flushed, sweat dotting your forehead and your face glistened. You looked thoroughly wrecked. He was still looking at you. You got off the cycle, walked to him and said, “Its all yours.”

He nodded, and you walked away. You breezed through the rest of the workout, mind occupied with thoughts of big hands and one beautiful man.

Through the next week, you kept seeing him at the gym, on a machine or doing a rep. You weren't ignoring him, per se, but what the hell would you go and say to him? "Hey I think you're pretty hot, come over and choke me?"

Definitely not.

A week without a partner goes by with no problems, but its like your beginner luck in the world of solo exercising has run out when you lose your balance while doing weighted squats. Even before starting the set, you were a bit worried, because the rod itself weighed 32 kgs, and you had added plates of 10 kgs. You never imagined that you'd get injured at the gym out of all places but, alas! Your time had come. When you felt that you had no control over the bar and your body anymore, you tried to brace yourself for impact, but two hands lifted the bar off of your shoulders, which allowed your body to gain some balance. When you looked at the mirror, you saw cycle dude holding the bar in his hands. You quickly turned around and helped him rack it.

With frantic eyes, he scans your body for any apparent injuries and asks,

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Uh no, I don’t think so. Just that, my knee might be a little sprained."

His eyes focus on your knee, hands out in front of him, ready to support you. You start walking, but you can feel a slight tinge in your right knee when you put pressure on it. The discomfort might show on your face, because he wraps your arm around his shoulder, and urges you to put your weight on him. He walks you to the bench and sits you down, your leg extended in front of you.

Squatting near your leg, fingers brushing the hair our of his eyes and off of his forehead, he asks,

"Can you call someone to take you home?"

You take a minute to think if there's anyone who actually could take you home at this moment. And you come up with no one. You tell him so.

Tentatively, eyes now darting here and there, he says

"Uh, would you mind if I dropped you off?"

You blurt out, "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why would you do that? You don't even know me."

"Well I, uh, might have a small crush on you. Not in a creepy way! I just think you're kinda cute. And I would feel better if I knew you'd get home safely."

Welp. That's kinda endearing.

"Okay. Let's go."

He asks for your locker number, goes and gets both of your bags and comes to get you. For a few minutes, you walk with your arm around his

shoulder, half of your weight held up by him. Your pace is probably slower than a snail, what with you trying to clumsily hop and him trying to support you. He stops and says,

"Okay, let's get you on my back. You can point in what direction you wanna go and I'll carry you. It'll be faster and way better for you."

You try to protest but he's already hanging both of your bags around his neck and getting on his haunches in front of you, hands ready to hold your legs. So you climb on.

As he starts walking, he says,

"I'm Taehyung by the way, your beloved servant."

"Well, my dear servant, you shall call me princess then," you cheekily reply as you tighten your hold around his neck.

He laughs and shakes his head, huffing out, "Wow, the audacity."

"I'm sorry. Thank you so much, I'll be indebted to you forever. You're too kind," you sincerely say to him.

He just hums in response, so you leave it at that. Your dorm building isn't that far, so you make it there in no time. You get in the lift, and once it opens on your floor, you tell Taehyung your dorm number.

You tell him your door code, and he walks you in, going straight to your couch and sitting you down. He takes the bags from his neck and puts them aside. Next, he takes off your shoes and puts them near your door.

"Okay, do you mind if I check your fridge? Is there anything like an icepack? To put on your knee?"

"Yeah, there is an ice pack."

He grabs the ice pack, fills it with ice cubes and holds it on your knee. The freezing sensation

sends a twinge down your knee. He urges you to hold the ice pack and goes to the kitchen. When he comes back, he presses a glass of water to your lips, and you drink.

Once you're done, he sets the glass on the coffee table, and settles beside you, grabbing your leg and gently getting it on his lap, urging you to lie down, with your head resting on the armrest. He holds your leg with one hand, and tenderly ices your knee with the other. The action makes you relax your body, all the stress unwinding. Taehyung doesn't say anything, his eyes concentrated on your knee. Feeling the pain in your knee numbing, you close your eyes.

The next thing you know, Taehyung in shaking you awake, calling out your name in his low baritone. When you gain some semblance of consciousness, the first thing that you register is the fragrance of food. Your stomach grumbles, and Taehyung chuckles at you. He helps you sit up, and shoves a takeout box in your hand. You thank him and dig in. Once you're done, he cleans up and comes back to sit beside you.

"How are you feeling now?"

You flex your leg a little, and when it doesn't hurt that bad, you say, "It feels better. I'll just take a painkiller and knock out."

He nods his head, hand reaching out to feel over and around your knee. After being satisfied, he rests his hand on your knee, and looks at you. "I'm glad. Just be careful."

In a moment of courage, you rest your hand over his and say,

"I can't thank you enough. For getting me home, taking care of me, feeding me."

His eyes crinkle as he smiles, and he rests his other hand over yours, your palm now sandwiched between two of his. He leans closer to you, and whispers,

"You don't have to thank me, doll. But I can think of a few things you could do."

The way he says these words makes tingles run up your spine, the intent clear in eyes, made clearer by his words. You close your eyes and lean back on the sofa, knowing that Taehyung's eyes are fixed on you. The knowledge that this kind, breathtakingly beautiful man has a crush on you, and moreover wants you, gives you the confidence to act a little, if not more coy. With your head now tilted towards the ceiling and your eyes closed, you channel your inner heathen and say,

"And what would they be, hmm?"

When you hear him suck a breath in beside you, you smirk inwardly. You wait for him to say something, but he just retracts his hands from yours. This action makes you open your eyes and tilt your head to look at him, question clear in your gaze.

Just as you're about to sit up and say something, you're hit with a face full of Taehyung, and suddenly his palms are grabbing your face and his lips are on yours. The shock makes your eyes widen, but as you register what's going on, your eyes close and your hand fists his shirt as you kiss him back.

Taehyung's lips feel way better than you could ever imagine, and the warmth seeping into your skin from his palms makes this experience feel real, and not just fantasy. When his lips suck on your lower lip a little harder, you arch your back, your upper body lifting off the couch. This makes him slide one hand off of your cheek and around your waist, and he pulls your body closer to his.

At this point, he's basically straddling you. When his tongue probes your mouth, one of your hands grab the back of his hair and pull. The low groan he lets out as you disconnect from his mouth and start sucking on his neck makes you quiver, the thought of hearing the same baritone in your ear as he pounds into you making you want him even more. He parts from you, and as he sits up, your hands leave his body.

"What do you want?"

You bite your lip, and instead of answering, one of your hand rises to his waistband. Instantly, his hand grips yours, and as he smiles, he leans down to kiss your palm. Against it, he whispers,

"Want me to eat you out? Wanna cum on my tongue?"

You gulp at the thought of this man between your legs, and nod at him. Something in his face hardens, and he drops your hand, only to lean over you and grip your chin.

"Use your words, baby doll. What do you say?"

You maintain eye contact with him and whisper,

"Yes."

Though your answer makes him loosen his grip on your jaw, only makes him move closer to you.

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir."

At your answer, Taehyung's eyes widen, and then a smirk spreads across his face. His hands urge you out of your top, and he throws it over his shoulder, uncaring as to where it lands.

His eyes take you in, and in a second he's getting off you and pulling your leggings and underwear down your body. You struggle a little to lift your ass off the couch, a little pain shooting through your knee at the pressure. Taehyung makes you rest your injured leg straight on the coffee table. After making sure you're comfortable, he leans down you kiss you, on of his hands making their way to your tits. When he squeezes and twists a nipple, your body arches off the couch, legs spreading wider.

Once Taehyung's satisfied from claiming your mouth, he gets down on his knees in between your legs. For the first time, you see hesitation cross his eyes as he nibbles his lower lip. You lean up, and say,

"I want you. Please make me cum, please."

A smile blooms on his face, eyes lighting up as his hands move up your thighs. He leans forward, kissing up the inside of your left thigh, his hands squeezing where they hold you. After a few kisses, he suddenly bites, which makes you reach out to grip his hair as you moan.

Indifferent to your reaction, he moves forward, his hands widening your legs as he comes face to face with your core. Sounding absolutely wrecked, he says,

"Fuck I can't wait to taste you."

With this, he kisses your mound, and then spreads your outer lips.

"Holy shit, darling, it's all for me, right?"

You card your hands through his hair as you whisper an affirmative. Happy with your response, Taehyung leans in and envelops your clit in his lips, and sucks. Slowly, he starts making strokes with his tongue, delving deeper. He speeds up the motions of his tongue, now moving it in and out, and puts a finger in your core. The slide is tight, and it makes you both moan. But he doesn't stop, if anything, he gets even more determined.

Soon, he adds another finger and his tongue moves onto your clit. The added stimulation makes the knot in your core tighten, the arousal pulsing stronger in your veins. He takes his mouth off of your clit with a pop and leans back to see his fingers scissoring as they move inside you. You tilt your head down to take a look at him, and dear God above, he looks wrecked. His hair is all messed up, thanks to your fingers, and his lips are swollen and glistening, and you're pretty sure his chin is too.

Fuck.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as this visual ingrains itself in your eyes, a whimper falling from your mouth as you say,

"Fucking God, please fuck me. Want you so bad, please."

"I'll think about it if you cum like a good girl first."

His fingers speed up, and he leans down to capture you clit in his mouth again. This time, he's absolutely brutal with the way he goes at you, nothing gentle about his mouth or his fingers. Just as you feel yourself climbing up to a climax, he adds another finger, his tongue now flicking across your clit.

As you get closer to the finish line, your moans turn into curse words, your voice getting louder.

"Fucking Hell, Taehyung, don't stop! Shit! I'm s-so close, please, please, I'm gonna c-cum!"

Saying nothing Taehyung curves his fingers inside you as he lightly bites on your clit, and that's all it takes for you to let go. Your body pulls taut, legs shaking around him, hips riding his fingers. His fingers and his mouth guide you along your high, and even after you've come down, his mouth still keeps laving over your clit. You moan in oversensitivity and that's when he deems it enough.

He gets up, but groans out while straightening his legs. You giggle at his facial expression, and he stands over you, hands on his hips, mouth drawn into a pout.

"I just ate you out but you're laughing at me, huh?"

This makes you laugh out loud, and you say,

"Can't believe you're a grandpa."

His mouth falls open, flabbergasted. His mouth tries and fails to form a word, and his mouth just bubbles out a laugh. He's shaking his head as he takes off his tee, and throws it on the couch beside you. Oh you're definitely not laughing now.

"Well, this grandpa did get you off, baby doll. Now, where's the bedroom?"

He leans down to pick you up, his hands urging your thighs to wrap around his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck. You hold on tighter when he stands up straight with you in his arms. He leads you to the bedroom, kicking the door open and walking in. He lays you down on the duvet slowly, mindful of jostling your leg.

Once you're lying on the bed, he goes to get a pillow and puts it below your knee. You make eye contact with him, hoping your smile conveys how grateful you are. He smiles at you, expression shy. Pointing at the bedside table, you say,

"The condoms are in here."

He raises an eyebrow, but gets a condom and climbs on the bed. Once he's in between your legs, one of his hands knead your thigh, the action relaxing your muscles, making you let out a sigh. Seeing your reaction, he leans down to kiss your tummy, trailing light kisses down to your pelvis.

"You look so beautiful like this. So lovely."

His hand glides up your inner thigh, two fingers plunging into you without warning. He pulls out, only to push back in, your soft wet walls accommodating to his ministrations easily. When he doesn't hear you making a sound, he scissors his fingers, and starts sucking a hickey on your hipbone. A shiver runs through you, and you let out a whimper at the sudden influx of stimulus.

"Such a sweetheart, huh? Always ready to let me know how good I'm making you feel."

As he says this, he adds another finger, and the added stretch makes you arch off the bed. Soon, Taehyung has you moaning his name, your hands reaching out to hold onto the bedsheet. Taehyung slows down his fingers, and asks you,

"What do you want? Tell me. Tell me and I'll give it to you."

The husk in his voice makes you groan, the timber of it sending trills of arousal shooting through you.

"Want you to fuck me. Now. Right now."

Pulling his fingers out of you, he whispers, "Then that's what you'll get, baby."

He takes off his gym shorts and his underwear, his cock standing hard and proud, the tip glistening with precum. While stroking his cock, he says,

"Although everything in me is telling me to fuck you like the devil you are, I don't wanna add to your injuries. So let's have you wrap you legs around me, okay?"

Actually processing what he said, you try to move your leg, but the twinge of pain has you nodding your head in agreement.

Seeing your approval, he gives you a smile and tears open the condom. Your eyes trace him as he kneels between your legs. The soft curls falling into his eyes, the slope of his nose, adding to his charm. The strength visible in his shoulders, all the way down to his arms, makes you want things that can only be done behind closed doors. The thoughts of being manhandled, being pushed into the mattress as he takes you run through your head among other lust-filled scenarios, and these make you gulp.

Your eyes follow when he rolls the condom onto himself and strokes his cock in long motions.

His eyes, fall onto you, and seeing how you're entranced by, well, his dick, he chuckles. The sound makes your eyes flit to his, your cheeks already filling with colour, embarrassment flooding your mind.

Taehyung doesn't say anything, just urges your legs to wrap around his waist as he leans over you. That one moment of silence, where you and him are just two people, closer than ever, closer than any galaxies, any stars, seems to last for a lifetime. When he slightly smiles, one of his hands coming up to stroke your hair, you feel a storm brewing where you heart is meant to be. You smile back, and then Taehyung is thrusting into you, the stars in his eyes now clouded by lust.

The first few thrusts are slow, languid and have Taehyung's eyes flitting over your features, looking for any signs of discomfort. But when he finds none, he gains confidence, his hips moving with more purpose, plunging impossibly deeper into you. Your eyes close, head tilting up as your mouth lets out little moans mixed in with whimpers.

Taehyung's thrusts slow down into him just grinding his cock into you, and he grabs your chin to make you look at him.

"Look at me, baby. You feel so good, like heaven. Maybe even more divine than heaven itself."

The sincerity in his eyes as he says this makes your clench around him, throat choking on the words you want to say. You reach out a hand and put it on his shoulder, which makes him pause his movements. Worry flickers across his face as he waits for you to say something.

"G-go faster. Wanna cum. Right now. Please."

The worry on Taehyung's face quickly dissolves into cockiness as he positions himself to pound into you better. His smirk grows as his thrust gets a moan out of you. Continuing with his ministrations, he manages to grunt out,

"This good enough for you, doll?"

When you don't answer him, too busy whimpering, he leans over you and one of his hands reach out and twist your nipple in warning, hips maintaining their momentum.

"Think I asked a question, darling. Come on, now."

The hand you had on his shoulder moves up to the back of his head, and as your fingers entangle in his locks and pull, you say,

"Yes! Yes! Dear God, yes! F-feel good."

He doesn't verbally reply to you, but he hums, the low rumble of his voice making you feel some type of way.

One of his hands land near your head, the other one grabbing your thigh, and its pound town from there. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping on skin mixed in with Taehyung's grunts and your moans. The boy in between your legs turns into a beast chasing just one thing, and he doesn't slow down. The sound of sex resounds in the room, making you feel downright dirty.

Your eyes focus on Taehyung's face contorted in pleasure and his body glistening with a sheen of sweat. Maybe it's this realization, that you have this beautiful man fucking into you that pushes you closer to your climax.

When your walls start clenching around him, the ball of fire in the pit of your stomach so close to bursting, one of your hands reach down, two of your fingers rubbing your clit in desperation.

"That's it. Make yourself cum on my cock. Let me see you cum, baby. Wanna feel you cum for me."

His words are accompanied by his hips moving faster, hitting the spot inside you, making the fire in you unravel. Your back arches off the bed, mouth opening in a whimper as you cum, body drowning in pleasure.

Your walls tighten around Taehyung, making him let out a choked moan. With two, three more thrusts, Taehyung is cumming in the condom. He slumps on you, letting out puffs of air, catching his breath. When Taehyung taps both of your legs gently, you remember that they've been there this whole time, and, holy shit, your fucking knee was fucking sprained. Taehyung, apparently has the same realization, because his concerned wide eyes lock with yours and he slowly untangles your legs. Your knee gives a twinge in protest to movement but as soon as it's straight and on the bed, you feel fine. Taehyung pulls out, and ties the condom off, getting up to go and throw it in the bin.

When he comes back, it's to you playing with your fingers running circles on your navel. You stop your actions when you realize he's back in the room, your cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment. Taehyung mumbles a 'cute' but doesn't say anything else.

Taehyung has a wet towel in one hand, with which he gently wipes between your legs. And when he's done, he leans down to leave a kiss on your forehead, and then he's gone again. Your eyes follow his bubble butt as he leaves the room.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones, and your eyes close. They only open to the sound of something being set down on the bedside table. You open your eyes and turn your head to see that it's a glass of water, and Taehyung, Taehyung is wearing shorts again.

You sit up, grabbing the glass and gulping down the water. The thought that you're still completely naked makes you feel shy, even after all of the things you just did. Taehyung sits

beside you on the bed, taking the glass from your hand and putting it on the table.

"Uhm.."

"I ju-"

Both of you shut up, but when you lock eyes with each other, laughter spills out of you. With a smile on his face, Taehyung speaks first.

"What were you going to say?"

You think for a moment, wondering if what you're about to say will sound weird or not.

"Uh, just that, do you want to stay over?"

With disbelief painting his face, Taehyung asks, "You want me to?"

You try to keep the endearment out of your voice as you deadpan, "Oh no, the monster under my bed just liked your feet and told me to ask you to stay longer."

It takes a moment for your words to register, but when Taehyung realizes what you just said, laughter tumbles from his lips.

Your concerned friends knock on your door the next morning, and a clueless Taehyung opens the door to let them in. Your friends barge in to find you wrapped in a blanket, lying on the couch, Haikyuu! playing on your TV. Taehyung just stands there, neck full of hickies, rampant sex hair, smelling like your body wash.

Your friends look at you for a moment, then turn to Taehyung only to turn back to you. When one of them asks you what the hell you've been doing yesterday and where you've been, you lock eyes with Taehyung as you smugly say,

"What can I even say? It was one heck of a workout."

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfiction #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #bts fluff #smut and fluff #kim taetae #this is filth #this is also cute #taehyung #bts tae tae #bts #bts fic #bts fanclub #dont hate me

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colorseeingchick · 4 years

Text

Period Pains (Atsumu, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Periods. Suck. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. But maybe they can make it suck less.

A/N: Y’all can probably guess how my week has been :D. So this is mostly self indulgent and has definitely made me fall in love with all these boys much more. I may or may not stan Miya Atsumu now but we don’t talk about it (yet)

Warnings: None really! Fluffy and domestic wholesomeness. Post-timeskip.

Miya Atsumu

Atsumu starts to stir from his sleep when he hears a loud prolonged groan next to him.

He presses his eyes closed when the lights suddenly turn on. Ugh.

He opens his eyes to see you waddling away to the bathroom with your hand pressed to your stomach. Hmm?

He looks down and sees a relatively large splotch of red staining the sheet. HAH!

Suddenly, Atsumu is very alert.

“Babe what happened! Did you get hurt?”

Mans throws (I mean THROWS) himself out of bed and pulls a pair of shorts on as he stumbles to the bathroom to check on you.

“Baby are you-”

He sees you by the sink, washing your shorts, the water discolored as it runs off.

Ohhhh yeah! You were on your period.

Headass’s mind blanked while in a sleepy haze.

You sigh. “Yeah I’m… fine-ish. I guess.”

He smirks and comes up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist, one hand gently rubbing over your long sleep shirt, right over your lower belly.

He presses a slow kiss into the side of your head and rocks you side to side while you continue to wash.

“Did ya wake up cuz of the pain, babe?”

“Mhm. And I saw the stain then too. Ain’t my luck just great?”

He groggily laughs and presses more kisses along the side of your face and holds you tighter.

“You got this, babe. I’ll bring the sheets here, yeah?”

“Kay.”

This, in its own way, is enough to make you feel… less bad.

You were far from feeling okay at this point, but Atsumu knowing the drill and nonchalantly helping out at 2 am made things feel less apocalyptic than they were in your head..

Atsumu strips the bed of all its sheets, rubbing his eyes as he tries to keep awake.

Handing the sheet to you, he leans against the wall as you washed out the immediate blood stains.

Once you wash it out, he takes it from you.

“Clean yerself up babe.”

He takes the sheets downstairs and throws them into the washing machine.

He goes to the kitchen and grabs a banana and some dark chocolate (because we healthy in this household).

And some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet.

And runs back up to find you coming with new sheets in hand.

Putting your snacks down on your bedside table, he helps you pull the fresh sheets over your bed.

Sitting you on the bed, he hands you the food and sits next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder while you munch.

He gives you the medicine when you’re done.

“30 minutes- not bad. I think that’s our new record.”

He shuts off the lights and crawls into bed, opening his arms as you slide your legs under the comforter.

Snuggling into him, he nuzzles your forehead as he holds you close.

“Feelin better, babe?”

“Yeah… I’ll probably fall asleep in a bit or something.”

“Well, if ya wanna press up against me if that’ll make you feel better, ya can. And wake me up if ya need anything.”

“I will, Atsumu. Thanks.”

“G’nite, sweetheart.”

BONUS: you wake up late the next morning, Atsumu still holding you flush against his body.

Now that you slept well (thanks to the meds and Atsumu) and woke up without pain, you’re suddenly in a very affectionate mood.

Wiggling up, you find your way to Atsumu’s face, giving him a couple of soft pecks to his lips.

He stirs in his sleep, kissing you back.

But even after you had pulled away, he kept kissing at the air, trying to find your lips in his sleepy haze.

It was pretty funny.

He’s a headass, you’re not gonna lie.

But he’s your headass! And that’s all that matters.

Akaashi Keiji

Before even coming home, Akaashi knew you were going to be on your period today.

Your period tracking app was synced to his phone, so he knew when to prepare for your worst days with snacks, supplies, and lots of affection.

He hated how busy he was, that he couldn’t be home to take care of you. So making sure you had everything you needed was the best he could do.

But when Akaashi comes home and can’t find you anywhere, he starts to worry.

Where were you? You would usually always greet him when he came home, even when you were on your period.

He gets his answer when he hears sniffles and hiccups coming underneath the lump of blankets on the couch.

Akaashi knows that if you were ever fully underneath the blankets, there was something really wrong.

Taking his jacket off and throwing it over a chair in the kitchen, he rushes to your side and pulls the blankets delicately off your head.

“What’s wrong, darling.”

“H-hi Keiji. I’m s-sorry I didn’t m-mean to *hic* hide from you I j-just don’t feel too g-good.”

Your breath was so shaky and Akaashi’s heart shattered watching you.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, dear.” Akaashi asks you in a whisper.

“My tummy just hurts so so much and it won’t go away I-” your sobs begin to rack through your whole body.

“Did you take medicine? Heating pad?” He asks gently as he runs his hands through your hair and wipes the tears off your face.

“N-no… I hate taking medicine Keiji you know that. But I took a hot shower and I hoped it would help and it didn’t.” You attempt to stifle your cries to talk coherently, misery wrapping around your soul.

“Alright then, give me a second, darling, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

After changing, Akaashi comes back downstairs to the couch and makes his way over to you.

He pats your head gently, “can you sit up for me?”

He swings his legs up onto the couch and opens his arms and legs so you could place yourself between all his limbs.

Crawling up to him, he turns you so that your back is pressed to his torso.

Immediately, Akaashi’s hands snake around your waist and find their way to two sides of your lower stomach.

His fingers gently message you, moving around to try and find which spots need his attention, all while he coaxes you into being relaxed.

“Shhh darling, you’re okay. I’m here and I’m going to shower you with my love. Just relax and let me take care of you, okay dearest?”

You nuzzle back against his chest, letting his words, touch, warmth, and smell fill all your senses.

“Keiji… how was your day?” You murmur, tilting your head back in an effort to look at him.

He smiles, warmth spreading through his body as he realizes even while in pain, you still want to carry on your daily check-in on him post work.

And so Akaashi tells you all the stories from the day- his new assignment, how panicked he got midday when the office went into crisis, a surprise visit from a certain owl during lunch time.

You listen attentively, but your hands subconsciously move his larger hands to the center of your lower abdomen, where he starts to gently rub, leaving your skin tingly and chest lighter.

“Do you feel better, Y/N?” after sitting in comfortable silence for a little, he decides to ask.

But when he got no response, he cranes his neck to check on you.

You had fallen asleep in his embrace, a sweet smile slowly creeping across your face.

He smiles too, overjoyed to know that he was able to relieve you of some of your pain.

“Goodnight, my love.” He whispers to you, his eyes slowly shutting, arms still on your stomach.

BONUS: at around 2 am, Akaashi wakes up, realizing he was still on the couch.

You, however, were nowhere to be seen.

Getting up, Akaashi heads to the kitchen to grab water, assuming you were already in bed.

Instead, he found you in the kitchen too, the smell of pancakes flooding the space.

“Keiji! We never ate dinner. I’m sorry I made you fall asleep without eating.”

A small smile appears on his face and he rubs his sleepy eyes.

“It’s okay, dear. I’m just glad you could sleep some.”

“Do you want pancakes?”

“I would love some.”

Sugawara Koushi

Like Akaashi, Suga knew what was about to happen when he got a phone call from you as soon as he was leaving school.

Regardless, hearing you sniffle over the phone activates every protective instinct in his body.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“Koushi, do you love me?”

A dumb question, obviously. Suga showered you with affection and endless praise on a daily basis for you simply just breathing. The most supportive of boyfriends!

But alas, insecurity still creeps up at times. And Suga gets it.

“I love you more than anything else, Y/N.”

“Can you come home, Koushi? I miss you.”

“I’m on my way, love. Give me 10 extra minutes, okay?”

Suga hopped into his car to head home, stopping by the store to pick up a few things.

He grabbed a pint of your favorite ice cream, your favorite chips (because do you want sweet or savory today? Only time will tell), and some flowers before heading home.

The moment he steps through the door, you throw your hands around him and groan out of frustration, pain, and just general dejectedness (don’t @ me for projecting I swear).

Suga smiles down at you, knowing that he can bring you some peace, and pulls you against him, flowers and bag still in hand.

“Let me go change, my love. These are for you.”

Your generally miserable disposition shifts as your nose is filled with the aroma of fresh flowers. Sweet and gentle scents always managed to lift your spirits, and Suga knew that.

“Mkay.”

Once Suga came downstairs, he headed to the kitchen to warm up some water to pour into a water bottle.

“Sweet or salty?”

“Salty.”

He grabs the warm water bottle and the bag of chips and makes his way over the couch where your eyes were begging him to shower you in love (which he was more than happy to do).

Sitting down and opening his arms, you pull yourself against his side, hugging him tightly and nuzzling against his chest.

He rubs your head before sliding his hand down, soothingly rubbing circles onto your back.

His other hand goes to place the warm water bottle on your lower abdomen, which you hold in place by pulling your legs up to your torso.

“Koushi, why do you love me?” You murmur against him. “I’m so whiny and clingy and annoying and insecure and you’re perfect… you deserve the best. You shouldn’t have to put up with someone like me-”

“Hey.” Suga gently but sternly cuts you off.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about, and I don’t appreciate you talking about her like that.” He looks down at you and melts as he sees your puppy dog eyes staring back up at him.

“Koushi, I’m not wrong though. I am all those things.”

“And? I love you for it. I love that you whine for me and cling to me- it makes me feel wanted. I wouldn’t call you annoying, that's not your call to make. And insecure? That’s natural, my love. Everyone's a little insecure. I’m a little insecure. You’re not perfect and neither am I. And that’s okay. I don’t wanna love perfect. I want to love you and only you, okay?”

Tears prick your eyes but you feel better with Suga’s words of reaffirmation. He’ll tell you no matter how many times you need to hear it. “Thank you Koushi, I love you so much.”

“Shh, my love. Don’t cry. I love you, too.”

His grasp on you tightens as you relax against him, your breathing synchronizing.

“You wanna watch some TV?”

“Yes please.”

“Chips?”

“Mhm.”

Single word exchanges and the warmth of Suga’s sweater keep you connected as you allow yourself to forget your physical and mental pains.

Suga always knew exactly what you needed to hear, and never hesitated to tell you. No matter how ‘out of the blue’ or random it may have felt, he was always there for when you needed him.

BONUS: you guys settle on watching a romance movie, Suga feeding you chips while popping some into his own mouth as well.

But once the movie got to the really sad part, you started crying (sometimes movies just made you cry, but hormones made it so much worse).

“Baby, don’t cry, it’s just a movie.”

“But Koushi, you’re crying too!”

In honesty, Suga’s face was very tear-streaked as well, his sniffles hushed.

“Okay fine, we can both cry together.”

And so you did! Both of you cried, emotions fully invested in the movie, chips still being munched on while sobs shook your bodies.

It would have been a goofy sight to any onlookers, but it was the pinnacle of your relationship- emotionally vulnerable, intimate, and domestic. True perfection, if you were to ask me.

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding XIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XI - - - - Part XII - - - - Part XIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Plo Koon woke to find himself chained in a dark room.

Somewhere behind him he could hear steady dripping; it was uncertain if that was deliberate or not.

He strained to discern anything in the dim light, but the walls of his prison refused to form into anything recognizable.

Cautiously, the trapped Master cast his senses out, only to find them reflected back at odd angles. He decided to wait before attempting to push any further past what his captor wished him to see.

Time passed strangely, but sooner than expected there was the sound of a pressurized airlock opening and, distantly, a raging ocean.

The airlock cycled through its rotation and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out of the amorphous shadows looking...decidedly worse for the wear.

Plo ached at the sight. His normally carefully maintained beard was a scraggly mess. His robes hung tattered and bloodied. Of particular concern was how dry he looked, skin cracked and bleeding for want of water. The figure standing before him with a dead-eyed glare resembled less an accomplished Jedi Master and more the wretched husk of one.

“Who are you?” Obi-Wan's shade hissed. The chains around the Kel Dooran tightened.

Well, however he might view himself and others...at least he’s willing to fight to defend what remains? At the bare minimum he’s not acting intentionally self destructive...

“Good Morning, Obi-Wan. I am a Jedi Master and your friend. I have been attempting to reach you through your rather impressive shielding. I must say, you’ve done a remarkable job confining me in this mental construct, its been sometime since anyone has managed to get the best of me in this arena.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Don’t try and flatter me, you barely fought back. You could easily have forced your way anywhere, but for some reason you let me corral you, presumably to try and gain my trust. Now answer my question. Your presence is very much light so I doubt you’re Sidious or...Vader. I could be wrong obviously, but i can’t see either of themselves putting this much effort into that sort of mask...just tell me who you are, and why you’re with them.”

“I am Master Plo Koon, a High Council Member, and I am not unknown to you” he elaborated without hesitation. “I am glad that you can identify that I am a light force user. Can you not sense familiarity within my force presence, even so far within your domain?”

Obi-Wan reared back and the dripping noise in the corner stopped.

“It’s a trick. We might be in my head but that doesn’t mean I’m surrendering any of my thoughts to you,” Obi-Wan snarled. “I felt Plo Koon’s death, he was one of the first...and even if he somehow survived he would never work with the Sith to invade my mind. Never.”

“Obi-Wan. Listen to me. Please. I am not dead. I am not working with the Sith. I was brought in to reach you because no other method was working. You are in the healing halls at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.” Plo spoke calmly, but implacably, “We believe you have either experienced a uniquely detailed vision, or a run in with a dark-sider. Whatever has happened, I can feel the lingering impression of unsafety. But here and now, you are not in any immediate physical danger. There must be something I can do to convince you of your present physical location.”

“A uniquely detailed vision, huh? ha!” Obi-Wan replied, gesturing wildly. “Ha! You expect me to believe that what, the last four years of my life were a detailed prophecy? Why?”

“You...believe you have lived years beyond the rest of us. I take it the- what you remember has been dangerous enough to warrant maintaining abnormally tight control over your mental walls, precluding simply reaching out to ascertain the truth yourself.”

“Clearly my control wasn’t enough if you’re in here.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I do apologize for the intrusion, but we’ve already used every other tool at our disposal to reach you. I repeat, is there anything that can be done to convince you that you are, from your perspective, ‘in the past’. You are a High Council member with a grandpadawan. It’s been two years since the start of the clone wars. You recently finished an extended clean up of the Mon Cala sector after your victory.”

Obi-Wan stared at him curiously. “If I set a test and you fail, will you agree to dispense with the pretenses?”

Plo-Koon hesitated. “Perhaps I’m making this deal in bad faith, as I am know I am Plo-Koon, and that everything I have said is the truth... but I swear that if you somehow prove that neither of those things are true and I am secretly working for a sith lord, I will...reveal that.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Best I’m going to get, I suppose.”

The chains holding Plo-Koon loosened. Before he could respond, there was a hurtling rising sensation that he struggled not to fight against. After a disorienting moment, he found himself in his own body, feeling vaguely seasick. Obi-Wan blinked awake, apparently unfazed by the precautionary bonds holding him in place. Master Aerdo’s gaze flicked between them intensely. Plo-Koon held up a clawed hand to forestall any interruption while the two gained their bearings.

Obi-Wan spoke first:

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation”

“...What?” Koon replied, honestly confused.

“Cihynglo was a renowned Kashykian Jedi, her mediations are, well i suppose were considered a quintessential example of High Republic cosmic poetry.”

“I’m familiar with Cihynglo- my master used to speak of her fondly.” Plo Koon said slowly. “Though I can’t say I’m familiar with her Fourth Mediation.”

“Hmm. Yes, well her poetry in the last few decades of her life got increasingly, well, esoteric. While most of her work was widely translated and distributed, she requested that those who wished to read her fourth Meditations do so in person, so as to experience without dilution the full calligraphy and artwork that accompanied her words. She only ever produced two copies. Any guesses where they were kept?”

Obi-Wan’s voice started out in the steady tones of a born lecturer, only to grow bitter towards the end.

“Is one in the temple?” Master Koon asked.

“Yes, one was held in the Master’s wing of the temple archives. The other was housed in a place of honor in The White Forest’s Great Tree of Knowledge. Considering both libraries were reduced to ash in the first month of the Empire, it is quite impossible, even for the Emperor, to find a copy.”

His vague attempt at a smirk quickly fell flat.

“I was privileged enough to be granted time to begin reading it once, but, alas, an emergency situation in the intergalactic war you created meant that I had to run off mid-sonnet. Bring me that book, let me hold it, read it, and I will believe that I somehow unlocked the secret of time-travel while overdosing on Spice.”

Obi-Wan paused, catching his breath. “In the next fifteen minutes, please. Any more than that and you might try tracking down the few surviving Wookie scholars.” Koon flipped open his comm. “Master Nu, I have an urgent request.”

“Nu here, go on,” came the response.

“This may sound strange, but it is crucial that Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation be brought to the healing halls, room seven. Within the next 15 minutes.”

“You do understand you’re talking about a physical book, not a flimsi-stack or a holocron. It’s not meant to leave a climate-controlled room.”

“I promise you, I would not ask if it weren’t life or death. Please Jocasta, I’ll explain later.”

“I’ll be there in 10. It had better be one durned good explanation.”

Obi-Wan looked bemused. ”You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“I am glad you were able to come up with a test you found meaningful. Remember, you have friends here, regardless of whether you experienced subjective time travel or an incredibly detailed vision.”

They waited a little longer. Obi-Wan critically examined Master Aerdo.

“I’m a Senior Soul Healer” they offered at the non-verbal prompting.

“How interesting.” Obi-Wan remarked dryly.

They sat in awkward silence for another minute.

They were all equally trained in suppressing fidgets, coughs, or other nervous tics, which made the wait that slightest bit more unbearable, each second nearly imperceptible from the one before.

Eventually the sound of heavy boots moving at speed approached.

Master Nu strode in, gently cradling a great burden. The book gleamed large and vital in the light of its stasis wrap. Her eyes widened at they took in Obi-Wan, still cuffed to the bed.

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation, as asked for. I trust you have an excellent explanation for how a book of poetry is a matter of life or death.”

“I’m hoping that it will convince our friend Master Kenobi that I am who I claim to be and we are where I claim we are.” Koon gently pulled the book from her grasp and reverently placed it on Obi-Wan’s lap. Obi-Wan stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Obi-Wan, I’m going to uncuff you now. I trust that you will use your freedom to examine our ‘proof.’ We will physically intercede if you make any attempts at self harm.”

Master Nu gasped. “Then the temple rumors...I don’t understand.”

Obi Wan picked up the book as if he was afraid it might bite him. With an irritated snort, he opened brusquely to the middle, and began carelessly flipping ahead.

Master Nu started forward, offended, but Plo Koon held her back. “Please Master Nu, patience-”

Finally Obi-Wan seemed to reach the page he was looking for and stopped. “..And still the rain fell like blood of the womb” he murmured. “That...I tried to think of how the line ended but I...”

Everyone watched as the book shook in Obi-Wan's grasp. He turned the page, gasping slightly and murmuring as he read. “This is...a little gross, but oddly touching. I certainly would not have come up with it myself...but its so clearly...” They watched his react, eyes darting wildly and brow furrowing in confusion.

Several pages later he dropped the book abruptly.

“This is impossible,” he gasped.

Nu darted forward, carefully snatching it from his lap, "I am endeavoring to practice tolerance, but how is destroying an irreplaceable piece of literature supposed to help anyone?!” she snapped

“I admit I wondered that myself, but when I imagined what harm the Sith could do with some of the archive’s more practical works, I understood your decision to torch the collection” Obi-Wan responded dreamily. “I suppose the more beautific works would likely have been destroyed anyway...”

“Torch the archives? I would never.”

“But you did,” Obi-Wan insisted feverishly. “I found your message when we searching for survivors. There were so many bodies piled at the archive door that I was almost hopeful that they had managed to...but I suppose they held out just long enough for you to complete your task.”

Nu backed away slowly. “That sounds like quite the disturbing vision, Master Kenobi.”

“It wasn’t just a vision, it was my life. It-visions don’t last years!” he said, finally growing hysterical. “I remember everything! That gods-awful mission to Cato Nemodia! Getting takeout food with Anakin! The smell of burning flesh in the creche! Singing to Luke! The last year of the war! All of you! You crying after Dooku’s death,” he added gesturing wildly at the archivist. “It was so awkward! You were embarrassed! You told me that for some stupid reason you had ‘held out hope’ it was all an insane uncover mission, that he wasn’t really- Three years alone in the desert! I remember three years of living on fucking Tatooine, how could that possibly be a vision!”

“I...hadn’t told anyone that,” Nu whispered with a hint of alarm. She glanced at Plo Koon, daring him to comment. “I know its very much unlikely at this point, and by any measure, he’s taken things too far, but he’s gone on such long shadow missions in the past...” she looked away.

“Oh, Jocasta...” Plo sighed.

“Master Kenobi. I cannot explain how you came to have such detailed knowledge of the future,” Aerdo said, drawing focus back to the bewildered Obi-Wan, who had shifted into a defensive crouch on the bed. “But I do know one reasonably sure fire way to establish that this, us, is the present. Open yourself up to the force, please, just let yourself listen to what it has to say.

“I...want to, of course I want to believe- but the idea that I’m here- it’s, if you’re real than you can’t possibly understand, its too good to be true.” Obi-Wan responded brokenly.

“I know things have been clouded of late, but, if nothing else trust in the force to not lie to you.” Plo-Koon urged. “If you keep closing yourself off like this, how can you possibly learn if things are better than you think”

Obi-Wan collapsed from his crouch, knees folding underneath.

“If I am...even if I am in the past... Sideous might be watching...i didn’t- i don’t know the extent of his gaze- even if...” he trailed off.

“If it makes you feel safer, you are of course free to again raise your shields to whatever extent you feel necessary once you have verified your reality.” Aerdo replied smoothly.

Obi-Wan looked warily at the three Jedi in the room.“I...” he started, trying to articulate the swelling hope and fear only to find himself at a loss for words.

Aerdo shot him a reassuring smile, “If you don’t feel ready right now, that’s perfectly understandable. We’re very happy you’re willing to reach out as much as you have already. Would you like to pause this discussion for now so we can find you something to eat? I believe a simple broth is a customary first post-bacta meal, but if you have any special requests I’ll do what I can.”

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath, dropping his head into his hands. “I- I need to know, don’t I?” he mumbled. “Force help me...you win.” He took one last, searching look at the faces of his fellow Jedi before closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the force.

He opened a small hole in his mental barricades and tentatively allowed his thoughts to drip out. Tentatively, he trickled over the bank of Plo Koon’s being (expecting a frigid burn) only to find a warm and heartbreakingly familiar pool of tempered kindness.

He ran, slightly faster now, over the other Jedi presences in the room. Having finished his course without encountering any dark undertow, he ebbed back. There was an indistinct impression of something heavy giving way.

Obi-Wan’s Shields Fell Like A Dam Beneath a Tidal Wave -

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #time travel #starwars #star wars fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #fix-it

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dynyamight · 3 years

Note

meet cute number 47 is interesting!

send me a writting ask

47. Texting the incorrect number but continuing the conversation.

“You got all that, right?” Shinsou asks, readjusting his stance, so others can leave their classroom door easily.

Midoriya hums absentmindedly. He’s still quickly jotting down the last few digits onto his planner. “And, you said tomorrow morning, around 7? At the library?”

“Yeah,” Shinsou shrugs, “Or anytime really. The deadline isn’t until next month, you know.”

“I kinda just want to get it done, as soon as possible.”

Shinsou breathes out a snort. “Figured you’d say that much. Just make sure you got my number. Repeat it, if you need to.”

“No time.” Midoriya drops his bag to the side, shoving his now closed notebook inside. “Thank you! I’ll text you later tonight!” He offers hurriedly, before taking off down the campus halls.

Shinsou’s warning falls deaf to his rushed mind.

He has to run the entire way, in order to graciously catch the last bus for the hour. Sweaty and flushed, Midoriya slumps into his seat in relief. Fortunately, he was able to cop a seat for himself, settling by the window and his backpack right next to him.

Staring out, Midoriya tries to remind himself of the rest of his priorities he needed to do.

He still needed to start on Doctor Chiyo’s online Physiology exam, and gather his notes for the open book portion. It was a bit bothersome to handle tests online, but if the rest of class prefers it, there’s nothing Midoriya can do about it.

Speaking of which, Ochako had requested for copies of those exact same notes, since apparently she barely writes anything during lectures. He wants to suggest to her to just simply take better notes, but alas, he will gladly help her out.

And, finally, Midoriya has to collect reliable, approved research articles for his and Shinsou’s debate, in their argumentative project in Communications. Being assigned “PRO SOCIAL MEDIA INFLUENCE”, while being the most uninvolved people on the internet, Midoriya and Shinsou had a lot of work to do.

Not to mention it was already 18:00 by the time he reached the school’s dormitories. And yet, he needed to shower, make dinner, water his plants, and watch the newest episode of his favorite drama, airing tonight.

University was eating him alive.

Thankfully, he’s able to complete half of his list.

He finishes the exam with a 98%, and quickly snaps the pages of his notes over to Ochako and Iida, making sure to highlight the main topics questioned in the exam. Ochako sends a ‘thank you’ gif, and Iida texts a long, yet endearing message of gratitude.

Midoriya doesn’t have time to shower, instead blasting the TV volume loud, as he waters his indoor plants at the same time. He overwaters them a little bit, busy glancing back at the screen for too long. But, at least he’s able to watch the episode. He pouts when it ends on a cliffhanger, almost drowning his bonsai tree in frustration.

He’s only able to warm up a plate of leftovers, and read through only one research article, by the time it’s already blinking 21:30 on his phone. Sighing, Midoriya closes his laptop and grabs his cell phone instead.

An all nighter wasn’t preferable. But, if Shinsou is working overtime at his late night job, Midoriya supposes he can stay up and keep looking through more articles, until he has at least the required ten.

Flipping open his planner, Midoriya inputs Shinsou’s number into his phone. He adds his name, a contact photo of him sleeping, and finally taps a quick message.

(21:38) < You working?

When Shinsou doesn’t respond right away, Midoriya simply sets aside his phone on his desk. Stretching his arms, he sighs in defeat, now expecting Shinsou to be stuck at work.

He’s never worked at a restaurant, but he bets Friday nights can get pretty busy. And, Shinsou always complains that group outings and dates tend to stay over, even after the place is supposed to close. And, Midoriya trusts his word.

So, by the time his phone dings, Midoriya has been clicking through more articles on social media, bookmarking a few to go over later, as he went.

He lifts his phone, and with a bright screen, a message stares back at him.

shinsou hitoshi (21:58) > Who’s this

Oh, he did forget to specify. But, Midoriya smiles, having a small prank in mind. There was no harm in teasing his friends, let alone Shinsou, who definitely needed a good laugh, now and then.

(21:58) < It's the cutie from your communications class ;)

shinsou hitoshi (21:58) > So, no one

(21:59) < Haha! I guess you’re right about that

(21:59) < Anyways, it’s Izuku! You still working late, Hitoshi?

shinsou hitoshi (21:59) > This ain’t Hitoshi

Midoriya's face drops, blinking. Oh god, did he mistype the number?

(21:38) < Wait, you’re not???

Another text pops up, shortly after.

shinsou hitoshi (22:02) > You got the wrong number

Embarrassment burning his entire face red, Midoriya wishes he could delete himself from the world.

(22:03) < I’m so so so so sorry!

(22:03) < God, I thought I wrote down my friend’s number right

(22:03) < But, I was in this stupid rush to get on the bus that I didn’t make sure

(22:04) < And, listen, if I had missed that bus, I would’ve had to wait

(22:04) < Not like a few minutes wait

(22:04) < Like, a whole two hours wait!

shinsou hitoshi (22:05) > I didn’t ask

Deleting the conversation, Midoriya erases the new contact completely. And instead, he looks back to his planner, and retypes the numbers in his phone onto a new conversation.

Hopefully, he has typed the correct series of digits.

(22:07) < Hey, Hitoshi! It’s Izuku

unknown (22:08) > ...

unknown (22:08) > What the actual fuck

unknown (22:08) > You've still got the wrong number, you goddamn idiot

Slamming his phone onto his desk, Midoriya grabs a pillow off his bed and shoves it in his face. The temptation to scream sounds awfully pleasant, but it’s too late at night to do so. His dorm neighbors would definitely wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

What’s wrong? Oh, he has completely done one of the most dreaded imaginary scenarios in his head; text a complete stranger. Twice.

What was he supposed to do now? Never text back? Delete it? Block it?

How is he supposed to contact Shinsou now?

His phone dings again.

Lifting the pillow off his face slightly, Midoriya eyes his phone warily from his swivel chair.

That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Another text from the same stranger sounds a bit unheard of.

After a seconds-long hesitation, Midoriya lifts his phone and opens it once more.

unknown (22:13) > Double check next time

unknown (22:13) > You can fucking wait the two hours, dumbass

Midoriya grows a little irked. He has a bad feeling that his stranger isn’t too friendly, to say that least.

There was literally no reason to text back something so rude.

(22:14) < Well, that wasn’t nice

unknown (22:15) > Wasn’t trying to be

(22:15) < ..Are you always like this?

unknown (22:16) > Pretty much

(22:16) < That’s sad

unknown (22:17) > What’s fucking sad is that I was woken up from my sleep

unknown (22:17) > Because a damn moron didn’t write down the right number

Midoriya winces. He hadn’t even thought about the other person’s predicament, let alone if he had interrupted anything.

(22:20) > I really didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry :(

unknown (22:22) > Yeah whatever

(22:24) > You should try to go back to sleep, then

unknown (22:25) > I was

unknown (22:25) > But the same moron from before keeps texting me

(22:27) > Who?

(22:33) > Oh.

(22:33) > It’s me, huh?

unknown (22:34) > No shit

(22:35) > Right, of course. My bad!

(22:35) > I’m going to just stop now

unknown (22:36) > Thanks

(22:36) > For the umpteenth time, sorry! ><

(22:37) > Okay, Okay! I’m stopping now, for real

Midoriya desperately needs to call it a night.

After going through his nightly routine, he slips under his bedsheets, exhausted. He sets an alarm for 5:00 on his phone, hoping Shinsou will show up at the library, regardless of the missing confirmation text on Midoriya’s end.

He keeps his phone on awhile longer, swiping through his professors’ emails, before a surprising text notification pops in front of him.

unknown (23:01) > FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

(23:02) > …

(23:02) > What was that for??

unknown (23:04) > I CAN’T SLEEP

unknown (23:04) > GOD, I CAN’T GO BACK TO FUCKING SLEEP

unknown (23:05) > AND IT’S YOUR FAULT

(23:06) > What do you expect me to do????

unknown (23:07) > HAHAHAHA OH DON’T WORRY

unknown (23:07) > IF I CAN’T SLEEP, NEITHER CAN YOU

unknown (23:08) > AND IF YOU TURN YOUR PHONE OFF I WILL SEND HELLFIRE

(23:09) > Wait

(23:09) > No, please

(23:09) > My alarm is on my phone, I need it on

(23:10) > I need to go to an important meeting for a group project at 7:00!

unknown (23:10) > Aw, really? :0?!

(23:11) > Yeah! I really do!

unknown (23:11) > Sike. I don’t fucking care

unknown (23:12) > Hope you eat shit tomorrow

(23:13) > ..Why are you like this?

(23:13) > I could literally be a twelve year old, for all you know

unknown (23:14) > I doubt fucking twelve years do group projects

unknown (23:15) > But whether you’re a damn infant, or grown adult, I hate you

(23:16) > I wouldn’t say I hate you. That’s too harsh

(23:16) > But, wow, you are very unlikable :/

unknown (23:17) > That’s the fucking nicest thing anyone has said about me

(23:18) > It wasn’t supposed

(23:19) > Nevermind.

(23:19) > Do you have any friends? Just might as well ask

unknown (23:21) > Surprisingly yeah

(23:22) > Oh, so you also agree. That it’s a surprise

(23:22) > At least you’re self aware :0

unknown (23:23) > Yeah, they are annoying as hell

unknown (23:24) > But, also pretty good people, I guess

(23:25) > Pretty good or pretty dumb?

unknown (23:26) > SHUT IT

unknown (23:27) > Only I can make fun of them

unknown (23:27) > You. Don’t.

(23:28) > You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that

(23:29) > I’m sorry :(

unknown (23:30) > You like apologizing, huh

(23:29) > There’s a lot to apologize for tonight

unknown (23:30) > Still, you don’t have to say it every damn minute

(23:32) > You probably don’t ever apologize

unknown (23:33) > Fuck no

(23:35) > Right, of course

(23:36) > Well, you know what I need to do tomorrow

unknown (23:37) > Unfortunately

(23:38) > What about you?

unknown (23:39) > I’m covering a shift at my shit job at the ass crack of dawn

(23:40) > Unnecessary visual, but I digress

(23:40) > Uh, where do you work?

unknown (23:42) > No. I don’t even know your damn name

(23:43) > I told you?? It was in my first text

unknown (23:44) > Yeah, I ain’t scrolling

(23:48) > Well, it’s Izuku. Midoriya Izuku :)

unknown (23:49) > Great. I still ain’t giving you mine

(23:50) > ?? Is there anything I can know about you??

(23:50) > You know more about me, than I do about you

unknown (23:51) > You know I hate you

unknown (23:51) > That’s plenty

(23:52) > But, I have been staying up for you :(

unknown (23:53) > Because it’s your fault I can’t sleep

(23:54) > You aren’t feeling sleepy yet?

unknown (23:56) > ..Are you

(23:57) > I asked you first

unknown (23:58) > I asked you second

(23:59) > That

(23:59) > Look, it’s almost midnight

(24:00) > Oh, now, it’s actually midnight

unknown (00:01) > I have fucking eyes. I can see the time

(00:02) > And we BOTH have places to be tomorrow

(00:02) > So, let’s just sleep. Call a truce, please

unknown (00:03) > What about my petty retribution

(00:04) > PLEASE LET ME SLEEP

unknown (00:10) > FUCK

unknown (00:10) > FINE

unknown (00:11) > I STILL CAN’T SLEEP BUT WHATEVER

unknown (00:12) > HOPE YOU FUCKING OVERSLEEP TOMORROW

The rest of the night, Midoriya hears his phone go off, but he doesn’t bother to open the messages. Fortunately for him, the time staying awake quickly catches up to his body, the moment he shuts his eyes. And, in an instant, he falls asleep, heavy.

However, he’s jolted awake by the ringing of his phone, the tone alerting him of an incoming phone call. Banging his head on the headboard, Midoriya blindly grabs and answers his phone. “Uh, H-Hello?” He blurts quickly.

“Tch.” A low voice emits, “You owe me, Deku.”

Click. The phone call ends.

Confused, Midoriya hurriedly rubs his eyes open. Running his messy curls through his fingers, he lifts his bangs up, in order to correctly look at the time.

The time was 5:10. And, his 5:00 alarm had been off the entire time.

And, instead, that same unknown number from last night was his saving grace.

#star responds #MY FIRST TEXT FIC??? WOW #i kinda struggled with how i wanted to format the texts #but alas here it is #poor midoriya smh next time repeat the numbers back #never wake bakugou up from his 8PM to 6AM sleeps LMAO #i hope this was okay !!#bakudeku #tigridiae #my beloved #FICLET

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