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writingtraumaforever · 5 days ago

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Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 5

Notes: Woohoo! New chapter!! Forgive my very poor explanation of parallel universes and all things science. I have a small brain but a big heart.

Summary: Sonic, Tails and Shadow discuss who Shadow is, how he got there, and what to do about it.

Chapter Select: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6

Support me on my Ao3!

Start:

“So you’re seriously suggesting this Shadow isn’t our Shadow??“

Sonic doesn’t seem very happy about this. He’s now looking at Shadow skeptically as well as with an enormous amount of concern.

“Impossible,” Shadow says simply, “There’s only one Ultimate Lifeform.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s definitely concrete proof right there,” Tails says sarcastically, his arms crossed as he looks at Shadow, “Plus, by my understanding, there’s two Ultimate Lifeforms. You and Sonic.

“Oh, we are soo not getting into that right now,” Sonic groans before Shadow can comment, rubbing his temples with his fingers as he shuts his eyes and tilts his head down, “I’m getting a headache..”

“Join the club,” Shadow mutters, his arms crossed now as he leans back on the couch.

“So let’s say this Shadow isn’t our Shadow..,” Sonic says, lifting his eyes once more to Tails, “How the heck does that even work?? Where did he come from??? And where did my Shadow go??”

My Shadow.

Not our.

My.

That stands out to the ebony hedgehog, but he doesn’t comment.

”I have some theories..,” Tails ponders, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “None are a sure thing, but they are possible.”

“Well, I’m all ears,” Sonic says with a frown, panic evident in his wide eyes and how he’s fidgeting with his his fingers.

Why’s he so distressed???

“For starters, we do know that scientifically speaking, if one existence occurs in an alternate timeline, it must be replaced with another of the same kind,” Tails says simply, looking at Shadow and Sonic who just blink at him silently.

Tails sighs and dumbs it down, “If new Shadow is here, old Shadow is there.”

“You don’t live in some dangerous, apocalyptic universe, do you???” Sonic asks worriedly to Shadow, Shadow rolling his eyes with a shake of his head.

“No.”

“Oh thank Gaia..,” Sonic breathes.

“That was a few years ago..”

“WHAT?!”

“Don’t get so jumpy, Hedgehog,” Shadow huffs, narrowing his eyes at the blue blur who looks like he could be ill, “Any version of myself is more than capable of facing any obstacle he may stumble upon.”

Sonic just pouts a bit at this, his ears folding back as he thinks on Shadow’s words and tries to believe in them.

Shadow can see that’s not going to stop his stress anytime soon, though.

“Okay. So we know my Shadow is okay somewhere then.”

“Most likely,” Shadow agrees with a nod.

“HE IS,” Sonic assists with a glare before breathing a sigh and, “..So how do we switch them back??”

“That’s gonna be the tricky part..,” Tails rubs the back of his neck, his face scrunched in thought, “If I had to make an estimated guess on how this all came to be, I’d say it was due to both Shadow’s forcing artificial Chaos Control at the same time in their separate worlds. The fact it wasn’t organic probably caused a disturbance in the balance of the multiverse— which this is all just phenomenal proof it exists, by the way—!”

“Tails. Focus. Nerd out later.”

“Right. Anyway. They likely created a rift in the place between universes. A massive amount of self-made energy that created a tear between time and space from both sides.. The theory of the multiverse is there’s infinite universes that exist alongside each other. Our universes must just be parallel to one another, touching but not interacting— well.. until now.”

“Okay..,” Sonic nods, trying to take this in and understand it as he looks at the ground in thought, “Okay, so-.. so if there’s a tear, then can’t we just—“

He motions to Shadow and then moves his arms as if to push him through something.

Tails snorts, “Well, it’s not quite that simple.”

“Never is..,” Shadow mutters to himself, staying quiet for the most part so he himself can process his current situation.

“Why not??” Sonic’s brows knit, looking to his brother now.

“Well that energy itself was Chaos Energy. Which means—“

“The laws of time and space don’t matter to it,” Shadow finishes, now understanding a bit better.

Tails nods, “Exactly. It happened in less than an instant— not even an instant! Chaos Control is when time stops completely, and the user is briefly able to manipulate it before it returns right back to normal.”

“So the tear is closed?” Sonic frowns, ears lowering as his body slouches.

“Tear is closed..,” Tails confirms with an apologetic nod. He then offers a little smile, “But! We know it’s possible, now. Which means it’s possible to make it happen again.”

“How do we do that if the energy has to come from both sides of the multiverse??” Shadow questions, now much more collected since he knows why everything and everyone is acting so weird. As long as he has a reason, he can be reasonable in response.

“Well.. that’s what’ll take time,” Tails says with a scratch behind his ear, “I’ll have to work on that. Do some research. But if I had to guess, I’d say our best bet is to try and connect with our parallel universe and find a way to contact our Shadow.”

Sonic nods a bit hopefully at that, seeming eager at the idea of contacting this universe’s Ultimate Lifeform.

“And are you the most suitable for such a feat as this??” Shadow questions, his brow quirking at the fox.

Tails furrows his brows at Shadow, tightening his fists at his sides with a determined expression on his face, “I can do it.”

Shadow hums, seeming satisfied with this.

“It’ll take time. But I’ll have to be on this twenty-four, seven. Who knows what this sort of anomaly could cause! Defects in gravity, collisions of realities— heck, our whole world could be swallowed up if the multiverse tries to fix itself before we can!”

Both Shadow and Sonic’s eyes widen, their arms and jaws dropping at this information.

“…Great! Swell. Well, you get on that then, buddy,” Sonic beams with that obnoxious go-getter attitude of his, approaching Tails with a pat on the back before squeezing his shoulder with a little shake, “Because the world collapsing could really put a damper on my plans to live the way past coolest life ever.”

“Right..,” Tails chuckles a bit nervously, the weight of this task seeming to settle itself on his shoulders.

‘Good,’ Shadow thinks, ‘This needs to be taken seriously by someone.’

“Hey,” Sonic says, crouching down to get Tails’ attention. The fox’s eyes raise to his older brother’s again, nervousness and fear now replacing the determination he had previously shown.

“You got this,” Sonic assures with a smile, “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Tails offers a small smile at that, the confidence of his guardian seeming to be enough to make that spark return, “Thanks, Sonic..”

“Besides,” Sonic adds with a grin, “I know that the Tails in the other universe will be working his butt off to fix this too.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure..,” Shadow says with a frown, now pondering a whole other problem with this entire situation.

Sonic frowns, looking to Shadow with a tilt of his head, “How come?”

“The Miles Prower in my universe isn’t exactly..,” he pauses, choosing his words on how to put this, “On the best of terms with me.”

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sonadow #fanfiction #sonadow fanfiction #my writing #sonic fanfiction #Sonic #my fanfiction #Uncontrolled Chaos #UC #miles tails prower #tails #tails the fox #tails prower

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gt-abby · 6 months ago

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Mar and Jake- 4th Chapter

Let's go! It's been months since I've even touched this story but after this hard period of my life which is now hopefully over I can finally have a clear enough head to post this chapter.

Please don't forget to interact with it!

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 (you're here) chapter 5

------ 2500~~ words

Mar was shaking. Jake could really see it, as the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. It’s as if the moment was stretched out into infinity. He couldn’t bear to see her like this, so before the video call could be answered he placed a pinkie on her shoulder and said, “hey, it’s okay, it’ll all be okay, they’re your parents.” Mar jerked up when his finger rested on her. She relaxed when she turned around to look up at him and saw his reassuring smile, so she returned a crooked anxious smile back to him and nodded.

The video call dinged.

Her mother’s face popped up on the screen. Jake was surprised. He had never met Mar’s parents before, but this was nothing like what he was expecting. Mar’s mother, Jane, looked like she herself could be her own daughter’s sister. She had healthy dark brown hair, long and lush. Her eyes sparkled with youth yet didn’t have the innocence of it in them- as if she had things she was hiding behind them. Secrets that aren’t usually what people hide.

As quickly as she was about to smile and say hello, she saw her daughter sitting on the table, the size of a glass, with a man sitting on a chair behind her.

“Hey… mom…” Mar forced out the words. “So, funny story… yesterday I had a massive headache…” Mar continued trying to explain what happened, remembering to raise her voice since it was as small as her, enough to be ignored. Jake remained silent. When Mar finished, her mother’s eyes were wide and all she could muster was an “oh…”

Mar was fiddling with her fingers, waiting for a response from her mother but all she saw was Jane struggling with her words.

“Honey, I-I’m so sorry.. I have to go.” She looked over the phone at something else, then back at Mar. Her expression was blank, unreadable. Before Mar could respond, she hung up.

Jake couldn’t see Mar’s face, but he could guess what she was feeling. He knew she was trying her best not to break down.

“Mar, I-“ He began, but stopped when he felt a tiny touch on her hand that was resting on the table. As unnoticeable as it was, he could still feel her hand on his shaking. Soon, her entire body was shaking. Suddenly her body gave way and she leaned on his raised hand fully, crying her eyes out. His heart dropped. Out of all the possibilities of what Jane’s reaction could have been, this was not what he thought it would be. His parents were always there for him, after all, and he could never imagine a parent abandoning their child in their time of need like that. If only he knew how to help her, he’d have done anything to see her smile, but he could think of nothing at the moment.

Mar cried for a while. Jake dared not move. His hand rested on the table on its side, and the other side held Mar up. He felt her tiny tears drip down on his fingers. He thought of making some joke to lighten the mood but didn’t want to seem tactless.

“Jake, I’m… sorry…” He heard her say faintly.

“For what?”

“I’ve been crying almost non-stop the past 24 hours and you always had to endure it and be there for me… so thanks and I’m sorry.” She looked up at him with red eyes.

“Oh, don’t be silly, it’s fine. I’m here for you any time, tiny.”

“Yeah thank- Hey!” Mar took a second to realize the playful jab he made at her. She hit his hand lightly with a fist. He acted as if that hurt and shook his hand a bit but laughed.

Thank goodness his laugh was loud and contagious, he thought, as he saw Mar give in and laugh with him, through her watery, swollen face.

As the day pressed on, and they both decided to forget about talking to Mar’s parents, Jake took her to the living room to watch some TV and try to forget about the depressing turn the day took after that video call. After a long movie night, Mar almost forgot about the size difference between her and Jake. She was situated on the sofa, lying between him and the TV screen, so she didn’t really see him. But at the end of the movie, he began getting up to place all the snacks back in the cupboards and his weight shifting on the sofa pillow made her fall back with her face up. She watched as he towered over her and got up to tidy up. Her heart sank in her stomach. Each time she was reminded of how small she was she felt that same sinking feeling, that dread of being around him- as if he was going to hurt her either accidentally or not. Still, her logical mind reminded her that he would never, and she took a breath to try and relax, but the feeling stayed there, like a bad aftertaste in her mouth.

She watched as he came back from the kitchen after tidying up then lay back down between her and the back of the sofa. He looked back down at her as she turned around and he moved his arm as if to shelter her from the edge. Mar knew he was trying to be nice and protective, but she couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. Should she say something? She didn’t feel comfortable at all at that moment, but she was a little scared to speak up. Finally, she decided to signal him by pushing his arm a tiny bit, and he took the hint and lowered it. She was grateful for him respecting her boundaries, and she did want to feel safe with him, but a big part of her was still overwhelmed and scared of everything around her- especially a giant person who could literally do with her as he pleased.

Later that evening, she found herself waking up from a nap, though she didn’t even remember falling asleep. Jake was typing away on his laptop on the counter, submerged in his work, Mar presumed. Right. Work. She’ll have to call off of work the next morning. How she was going to do this long-term she didn’t know, but her life as she knew it was ruined. It didn’t really matter if she got fired, or if she’d disappeared off the face of the earth as far as anyone was concerned. All she could see in her future was living in this apartment under Jake’s care like a pet. No, no that’s not at all what this was. He’s just helping her in her time of need. But in the back of her mind the word kept echoing, “pet”��

After a while Jake turned around to see how she was doing, and his soft smile faded when he saw she was awake.

“Oh, hey, morning,” he chuckled. “I made us dinner, are you hungry?”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. She really was a little hungry, she had to admit. Jake came over to take her to the kitchen counter and sat her up in front of her tiny plate again. She noticed he placed his meal next to her and not in front, as if to signal that he wouldn’t look at her while she ate, again with her hands. Dang, he really thought of everything. The amount of respect he had for her, she really felt it, and it made her feel a lot better then, seeing how he still respected her despite her situation. Some people are really cruel, but there are also very kind people at the same time, Mar thought to herself.

After eating, he placed her on her bed. While walking towards her room, she clutched Jake’s thumb as she still wasn’t used to being carried around like that. He then smiled at her reassuringly and left. Mar was alone again. Part of her was grateful, but another was scared. What if tonight she has another nightmare? But she had to be brave. He left already anyway, and she had no way of contacting him. She wished he’d brought her phone with her, too.

Mar forced herself to lay down and try to fall asleep. She knew she needed it, but she was scared of it, too. Thankfully, nothing happened that night, and she woke up with the door opening even though Jake tried to open it as quietly as possible. He smiled at her again, seeing she was okay. He was already dressed and had his backpack on his back- reminding her that she also had to get up and somehow break down to her boss that she wasn’t able to come to work in the near future, or, well, ever.

Getting to her phone on the kitchen counter, she gathered her wits and called off work. She was mumbling and stuttering, but she did it. Afterwards, jake took her to the living room and placed on the coffee table a few plates of snacks in case she got hungry while he was out. He then joked that taking her with him would be risky because of multiple reasons and it was best to stay home. Nothing would happen to her there. Mar felt a little disappointed but didn’t voice it.

Right before he left, he looked at her with his usual reassuring smile and promised to be back as soon as he could. Mar then replied, “Break a leg!” and chuckled along with him. Mar then sat on the sofa armrest and looked around at the silent home. The silence weirded her out, weirdly enough, it made her uncomfortable. After the weekend she spent with Jake, she thought she’d like the alone time she faced right then. Before that, she used to actively try to avoid him whenever they were both in the apartment. Now, she felt uneasy being alone, without him. Looking down at her body, which was standing on where she would rest her whole arm on, she felt even smaller. If only she wasn’t so dependent on other people. If only she was normal again. Speaking of normal, her mother’s reaction was anything but normal or what would expect of her. She literally hung up on her and hasn’t called back since. Mar was scared to call her again, or her dad. She was scared of what they had to say.

Just then, her train of thought was cut short when she heard her phone ring. Dang, they left it on the kitchen counter, and there was no way for her to reach it in time. She couldn’t even know who it was, though a part of her hoped it was her mother.

Looking around, she tried looking for something that would help her get up all the way to the countertop. She found nothing, so she jumped down to the floor and sprinted towards her room. She reached it just as her lungs began to burn. She cursed herself for not working out as of late. Walking through the partially open door the size of the Empire State Building, Mar again saw the mess that which was left in her room- clothes on the floor, papers scattered around, the whole package. If only she could have tidied it prior to the shrinking, looking at it from a new perspective was a lot more gross than before. Mar spotted some molding clay resting on the carpeted floor by the desk, so she walked over and picked up as much as she could then walked the long way back to the bottom of the kitchen counter. She stuck a piece as big as her foot to the foot of the counter, high enough that she could step on it. She then climbed on it and placed another piece the same way, just a little higher. She kept climbing that way until she reached the top with a piece the size of a rice grain to spare. She felt proud of herself, yet a little breathless.

“Take that, brain, I am capable of doing things myself.” Mar said to herself aloud as she lay down to rest for a bit, before getting back up and walking over to her phone. She unlocked it and saw it was Jake who had called her. Her heart sank. She had her hopes up that her parents could have called her to see how she was doing and to apologize, but alas, that wasn’t the case. Mar decided not to call him back, he might be worried about how she could have reached the countertop, and she had no energy for that conversation. Besides, a long time has passed since he called, he might be in a lecture right now and she might disrupt him.

An idea then popped into her head, and she opened the search engine. She typed in the search bar, “fire god”. There were too many options to count, but none of them looked like what she was looking for. Everything about more mainstream gods that were well known from history or mythology studies, but a few weird looking sites talking about dreams similar to what she had. There were mentions of a long-lost civilization that was mainly situated in the middle of Europe but was wiped out when the roman empire started spreading, having lost most of their scripts and documents burned or destroyed. Whatever was salvaged was talking about balance between water and fire, life and death, creation and destruction- rule of equivalent exchange.

Mar fell deep in that rabbit hole, soon finishing everything there was to read about that lost nameless civilization and moved on to other mythologies. It seemed that civilization was the main basis for the idea of equivalent exchange and the trope of fire and water, red and blue connections.

“Ugh…” after hours of reading, Mar held her temples, feeling like her head could pop from all that new information she just absorbed. She turned her head from the screen and looked out the window from the open plan living room. Light from outside was getting dimmer as the day has long passed, and she could see the streetlights turning on one by one. She then realized that she hadn’t eaten anything all day. The snacks that Jake left for her on the coffee table looked very tempting to her, and she decided it was worth it to drop down and go there to get a quick fix.

Placing her first foot on one of the molding clay steps she made, she shifted her weight to place her other foot on another step. The third time, she shifted her weight, but the second step she was leaning on suddenly disconnected from its place.

Mar felt her heart drop to the floor as she missed the third step and began falling down to the ground. Eyes wide, a breathless gasp- she had little time to react. The height from which she was falling looked far taller than it looked to her before. her entire surroundings were blurring out from the speed. Then, before she could prepare for impact, she reached the floor. A loud crack, shooting pain in her left leg then her bottom.

Mar screamed in agony as she sat on the floor, clutching her leg.

#g\t #giant tiny #g/t community #sfw g/t #size difference #g/t fluff #gt community #sfw gt #giant\tiny #gt #gt fluff #oc: mar #oc: jake #original characters #original story #oc story #oc writing #g\t angst

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iaminsane-blog · 2 years ago

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Little Lady, Big Guns

hope you like chapter/part 4 :)

Bzzz, bzzzz.

A pounding headache had reached the forefront of my head, nearly blinding me from the small rays of sunshine peaking through the blinds. My whole body seemed to slightly ache but most of the pain was concentrated on my lower back and…butt? As I went to massage the tense muscles my hand was met with a film of plastic. My instincts screamed and I jumped out of bed immodestly shoving my pajama pants to my ankles and eyeing the plastic area. There in small but bold ink just below my hip read “Gun Girl of 141” with a small poorly drawn clipart of a pistol. A deep laugh emerged from my throat as tears began rolling down my cheeks from laughing so hard. This was definitely one for the books. My room was messier than I remember leaving it and my small clock on the desk read 11:42. Shit, even though it was technically a weekend I still had to get something productive done. I slipped into a blue dress with small white flower designs and fixed your self up before heading out the door.

After sending my final email I finally got the chance to sit back and breath. The day wasn’t stressful however there had been a lack of large army men to lighten your hangover. And so I withdrew from my office and made my way to Price’s office hoping for a new assignment. Price however wasn’t in his usual chair and so you went to the next possible place, the meeting room. It was there that well all of 141 resided.

“Vera thank the lord, I was loosing braincells with these knuckle heads. I’ve got a task for you”

Price’s voice had alerted the guys who stood seemingly also hungover. Soap stood with a stupid toothy grin, he had to have known about my tattoo discovery this morning. I gave Price and nod and squirmed my way between soap and ghost, sitting on the conference table and swinging my legs.

“we need customized gear and weapons for a mountain of a man think you could do that?”

I raised my hand in a small salute, giving a mock serious expression.

“Sir yes sir, but please inform me why this guy cant fit into standard issued clothes?”

Soap nudged Ghost and gave him a sly grin which ghost only ignored, however I could see his eyes scanning me through my peripheral.

“Well here he comes in”

My eyes drifted to the entrance of the room where a very very tall bulky figure ducked to walk underneath the doorway. As he came into the light the first thing that caught my eye was the absolute unit this guy was, completely massive in height and muscle. He had a large once white but now slight grey cloth snippers hood draped across his face. Two eye holes had been cutout however he had eye black smeared around his eyes. His eyes shifted all over the room. I let out a breathy “gawd damn” under my breath but apparently it was loud enough to warrant a gaze from Ghost. His eyes seemed to sharpen and he returned his gaze to the man, his jaw tense with annoyance. The huge man held his hand out and waved to both Soap and Ghost and then his eyes settled on me. He approached further and held out his hand to mine, and I let my small hand slip to his much larger hand and broke the silence.

“My name is Vera, I’ll be your designer.”

“I am König, thank you for helping me.”

I used his hand to pull myself up off the table and craned my head to look up at him, he seemed miles away. My mouth pulled into a wide smile and from miles away König’s eyes had widened.

“You’re all seeing this right? I’m 5’1 on a good day and König you are?” “Around 182 centimeters or um..6 foot 10?”

His heavily thickened accent made my smile widen as I gestured to the two of us to the rest of the group.

“Finally Price a challenge! König you and me will get along just fine.”

His eyes seemed to reflect happiness although I really couldn’t tell under his sniper hood, the masked men are the hardest to read.

“Thank you team, y’all are dismissed.”

I started to turn to walk out the door but Soap stopped me short waving a small cell phone in front of my face. The screen illuminated a picture of me, splayed on a tattoo artist’s chair my pants pulled down slightly to expose skin to the tattoo artist who sat concentrated. My face was twisted in a Cheshire Cat grin and I held up a small peace sign. I snatched the phone from Soap’s hand to get a closer look.

“Soap that is a sick photo here König look.”

I shoved the phone into his hand and for a second he blanked out. Perhaps from being drawn into a conversation so abruptly , however he still brought the phone to his eye line. And when he did his eyes immediately shot to the ceiling as his eyes widened.

“That is a very cool photo”

Was all he said as he handed the phone back his eyes still adverted away. It was comical the way König was, standing rigid above all of us. I gave the phone back to Soap with a grin on my face.

“Please send that to me, thats priceless. But me and König should probably go start on designing, See y’all at lunch.”

As I began to walk away I noticed heavy footsteps behind me, but for every step I took theirs were doubled. And soon König was walking right next to me. Let’s see where this goes.

“and that is 35 inches across, let me just get here real quick”

I had been taking König’s measurements for about an hour and still had a few more to go. His large body meant large measurements which would explain why my largest gun appeared like a rifle in his hands. He had started to warm up to me, his body growing less and less rigid. I stepped down from my step stool and looked at my page of measurements, there was only a couple left thankfully.

“König these last few measurements are gonna be awkward if you acknowledge it, best thing to do is to ignore me.”

His eyes twisted with slight confusion and his shoulders raised slightly.

“Whatever you need to do Vera”

I nodded and got down onto my knees and took my thin measuring tape, first wrapping it around his waist, and moving down to wrap it around the largest part of his thighs.

“Tell me König what’s your favorite animal?”

König’s gaze had remained forward facing but he still leaned his head slightly down.

“Well to look at perhaps a peacock but to pet I love cats”

His voice was soft and low almost as if he was afraid to speak too loud. I moved my measuring tape to measure the length from the front seam of his crotch to the waistband of his backside. I kept talking in hopes to release any tension or awkwardness.

“You know there’s this old Russian cartoon called Маша и медведь, or Masha and the bear.”

I finished my measurements and gestured to myself then him.

“Masha ergo the bear.”

I gave him a wild smile to invite friendliness and thankfully he let out a deep giggle that made his eyes shut.

“Zat is a good one, that is our uh pet names.”

I’m pretty sure he meant nicknames but I didn’t correct him, might as well let him have it.

“Okay and we’re done with measurements finally, lastly do you have any preference in style or color?”

His eyes darted slightly to his covered arms and then they locked to mine.

“I would prefer long sleeves and dark colors.”

I didn’t pry why but instead nodded and scribbled down notes, setting my notebook down on my desk. I brushed my hands off and grabbed my intercom.

“What do you say we get lunch with the other guys?”

König nodded and waited for me to exit the room first before following me down the hall.

“I fear Ghost does not like me all that much.”

I meant to wonder it out loud but instead let it come out. König’s head peered down at me and he his eyes shifted slightly.

“Ghost just needs time to warm up to people, especially new people.”

“What was he like when you first met him?”

“He would never admit it but I think he was intimidated, thought I might replace him as the mysterious masked man. But that was not the case and we are friends now, i hope”

I gave a hum in my throat and pulled down my dress slightly before we walked into the cafeteria, no free show today. Although the lunch line was practically empty the cafeteria was filled to the brim with every liutendent and private on the base. König stood next to me scanning the crowd, his height gave him a large advantage on spotting the table first. Konig placed a large hand on my shoulder and gently guided me to the table that was conveniently in the middle of the cafeteria. As we approached the group they seemed to quiet down at König and I’s presence for whatever reason. It seemed that the short steel table only had one seat left, next to Ghost. And his gaze was focused on König or rather König’s hand on my shoulder. I had started to eye Konig but he had already gestured for me to sit.

“König come on you can take the sea-“

“Please Vera you have been on your feet all day.”

And yes he was right and my feet had started to ache, oh god might as well. I took the seat next to Ghost and König stood near the front of the table, setting down his tray but picking up his plate. The tattoo has started to burn slightly making me squirm in my seat.

“Something bothering you?”

It was Ghost who had asked not anybody else.

“Yeah my tattoo from last night hurts like a mother, I don’t remember getting it how drunk was I?” Soap and Gaz shared a look and a grin at each other from across the table.

“You were trying to fist fight all of us because we tried to get you into the car and at one point you swung missed and fell straight on your face”

I let out a laugh and so did the rest of the group even König let out a chuckle.

“So that’s why my face hurts, go figure.”

i started eating my food but felt a set of eyes on me, I turned up to König but he was preoccupied with his own plate. Instead i shifted to my right to meet face to face with Ghost. His eyes were softer than usual and they scanned my face, i was waiting for him to say something but he didn’t.

“Do I have something on my face?”

His features softened even more but he just chuckled and shook his head letting out a breathy.

“No”

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion, the enigma that is Ghost continues to get more eccentric. If only he could take off that stupid mask and show his emotions, maybe then I would relate to him. I sighed and pushed some of my food around, my appetite seemingly disappearing. I took my packaged muffin and gave it a once over not my cup of tea, I looked up to König who had just finished his plate.

“Hey медведь, want my muffin?”

He peered down at me and took the muffin from my hand, his hand slightly brushing mine.

“Danke Masha”

“пожалуйста”

I gave him a smile and turned to the rest of the table who had grown eerily silent yet again. The eyes of Soap, Gaz, Graves and even Ghost bore slightly into my own.

“You’re Russian?”

It was Soap who had spoke, his face twisted slightly into a face between confusion and slight anger. My confidence wavered upon seeing his emotion.

“Polish but I speak the language”

It seemed like a large breath of relief and the tension was gone in an instant.

“Thank god”

It was Graves who spoke from his end of the table going back to shoving soup into his mouth.

“And if I was Russian? Would you guys resent me?” While the rest of the room was booming with conversation our table grew silent yet again, the ego of these guys.

“Just because you had a bad expierence with one person doesn’t define the group.”

Its not that I was mad at them ,more disappointed that they judged so quickly. I get it they had to fight off Russians, but that doesn’t mean they can hate a whole nationality for it.

“She’s right”

Ghosts deep voice penetrated the silence, and thank god it did I had to get back to work.

“Thanks Ghost, shit I gotta get back, catch ya later team.”

I stood up taking my tray and exited from the side, brushing past König slightly. But before I could walk away his hand caught my arm, and pulled my attention to him. He cocked his head to the side slightly as if asking me “are you ok?” I gave him a smile and nodded, and he released my arm.

At the table

As they watched her walk away Konig turned back to the group, nobody could see the slight blush across his cheeks under his mask.

“König swear to god you’re gonna be the one to cuff her, lucky bastard.”

Gaz had begun to violent poke his food while talking to the whole group.

“Cuff her?”

Konig’s accent had warranted an eye roll from Ghost who suddenly got up and carried his tray.

“Ghost is jealous, he can’t stand the fact that you’re taller than him. lets hope for your sake Vera likes tall men.”

All the guys except Konig let out a stifled laugh at that and they all went back to their meals and individual conversations.

#konig headcanons #konig cod #konig x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw22 #i dont know the plot of cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 imagine #gaz cod #soapghost #soap mw2 #commander cody

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pleasantbutterfly · 3 years ago

Text

Inner Peace

Khonshu x Female! Goddess! Reader

Chapter 2. A lesson in mythology

Words: 1640

Warnings: None? (let me know, if I should add smth)

It's Canon Divergence. The story is not following the plot of the show.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The 1st POV

The moon is alone in the navy blue sky. There are no stars to accompany it, just endless darkness holds a white orb in its tight clutches.

Roaming in the golden labyrinth, I try to find … Actually, I don’t know what I’m looking for, but my legs keep carrying me.

I see a lean silhouette in the distance, standing on the top of the hill. Their head is tilted towards the lone moon.

The figure doesn't seem to notice me, or at least doesn't bother to acknowledge, when I come closer to them.

A long bird skull is eliminated in the soft white lights. I immediately recognize it.

Is it a projection of my mind? Is it trying to play tricks on me?

But I make no move. It feels like I'm floating, my body is light, my mind is thoughtless.

"The moon is rather lonely, don't you believe?" I hear myself saying, though I don't know where it's coming from, like it's not my thoughts but somebody else's.

"Yes," the figure laments, the string of sadness is prominent in the tapestry of a rich voice.

"It's not fair," I carry on, "the moon's beauty and grace shouldn't be kept to itself. I deem, I know what it lacks."

I take a handful of the sand and blow it into the sky. Its small pieces, resembling diamonds, fly towards the dark canvas, strewing it, they light up, forming constellations.

"Thank you, Maat," the bird figure whispers. His massive skull rests gently on my head, while the swathed hands are holding me around my waist. "Thank you, my starbriger."

Waking up, I realise that I feel refreshed. No more fatigue from restless sleeping, there is only content void of lightness in my chest.

The dreams have changed as well. They are no more plagued with the stone pyramid, but with incomprehensible episodes that leave an imprint of warmth in my chest.

…

The bus is not anywhere near being devoid of people today. Though, the journey home is far pleasant, when you are not worn out to no end.

I'm going through the same place, where I saw a mysterious man with no less mysterious bird-headed being, not knowing the purpose of the search.

At the last second, I race to the door, particularly stepping over the heads of disgruntled people, I get off the double-decker and head towards the British Museum.

A large banner with "New Egyptian exhibition" meets me at the entrance, so it becomes my destination.

A wide range of showpieces, artifacts and specimens are presented among the massive hall.

A specific exhibit feels like calling me, gaining my full attention. It's an ancient stela with Egyptian hieroglyphs encircling a woman in a voluminous pleated robe, a single feather adorns her head.

"Maat”, the name echoes around the room, bouncing across the room. I shiver, millions of tiny needles are thrusted into my skin. A well-known tag is knotted in my chest, leaving me breathless.

I turn around to inspect the room, but my eyes land on mahogany obsidian orbs of the man's irises. I immediately recognise the slightly untamed curly hair.

"Sorry," the dark-headed man apologies timidly, "didn't mean to startle me. It's Maat, the Egyptian goddess of truth, justice and harmony. In the Duat,creepy place, trust me, the hearts of the dead ate weighed against her feather. She was also—"

"Are you working here?" I cut him short. From his chattering I start to get a small headache, a slight pressure on my temple.

"No, sorry, not any more at least," he gabbles. "I'm Steven. With a V." (It never gets old)

I start introducing myself when in the corner of my eyes I notice a familiar bird skull.

"Have I gone nuts?" I whisper.

"Well, you're not alone," Steven whispers in return.

I peer at him, he wears a soft smile, something tells me he knows something, while I don't have the foggiest.

"You can see him as well, can you?" I finally voice the question.

"Something I wish I couldn't. Nevertheless, I do see Khonshu."

"Khonshu?"

"Yes, the Egyptian god of the moon."

The named Khonshu has not moved from his spot, looming in the other end of the hall, while people are roaming around, completely oblivious to the deity.

…

Khonshu's POV

She is standing here, a few meters are keeping them apart, her gaze is puzzled yet intrigued and alive, there is no hint of fright.

I wish I could touch her. Is it even possible? he wonders, keeping the riddle to himself. He wants to feel her, her soft and hot like flames touch always left a burn on his soul.

He's afraid to approach her, afraid that she's just a myth, he let himself believe.

When the girl waves at him, he's totally flabbergasted.

"I believe he wants to talk to you," his avatar chimes in their silent interaction. "Let's find a place without unwanted eyes and ears."

…

The 1st POV

We reach an empty alley, where no prying soul can bother us.

"How do you know him?" How a human can meet a deity, there must be a story behind it.

"Well," he awkwardly rubs his neck, the sight of discomfort. "I'm his avatar. 'Fist of vengeance' he calls me."

"Vigilante?"

"You can say so."

The god of the moon is already awaiting us. How do you greet him? Do you kneel?

Up close, he's even taller, and more powerful. His posture is strong, intimidating, the staff in his hands only magnify the effect.

"Hi," I greet him meekly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Khonshu's words rings out. His voice is the same as in the dream: strident and soulful, the finest sound of a violin is just a creak compare to the tone of his voice. It makes my breath hitch.

"I dream about you."

"What do you see in the dream?" he inquires.

"I always see the moon. Though, I was caged into a pyramid, deprived of the chance to get out. But recently it's changed. I'm no longer a prisoner but a wanderer, who doesn't know it's destination. Yesterday I found you. You were sorrowful and alone, as the moon in that sky. I took a handful of sand and created stars for you. You called me —"

"Starbriger," Khonshu completes.

"What does it mean?"

His chance to reply is taken as a man with a serving knife in his grasp ambushes us. And he is aiming at me. But before he can swing the weapons, a masked man in white neat suit sets on the assailant, punching him in the face.

"Knocked out!" he exclaims, when the man falls down. "It was like a knife through butter. Get it. Knife." He imitates sticking a knife.

"Steven?" I ask the man.

Before he can answer, the man stands up. Steven doesn't wait, he grabs the man and pin him to the wall of the building.

"Please," the man pleas, trembling. "I was just sitting at a restaurant with my date. I don't even know how I get here."

Something in me tells me it's not right. The attacker is not the man who is holding the blade. The man before me is not guilty.

"Let him go, Steven," I order with authority, "he's innocent."

"He tried to make canapés of you."

"Trust her," Khonshu points. "She knows it. Let the man go." His words, his trust make me feel proud. I smile, itching in my heart return, as if it begs me that it needs something more.

As soon as the man is released, he flees, leaving a trail of dust behind.

Khonshu addresses me, kneeling down before me:

"The feeling you get, the itching inside your chest, the tagging, your dreams are all the projection of your memories and past. You're Maat. The Goddess. And most importantly, you're my lost…love."

When Khonshu finishes the speech, I start to get a strong splitting headache. The more I think about his words, the harder is the pain. When I can't take it anymore, my mind shuts down.

…

Khonshu's POV

The worm is able to break the fall of the girl. Her eyes are open, but she doesn't move or show any reaction. The face is blank.

"What's wrong with her?" the human questions.

"She's mortal." The god answers solemnly. "Her body could not cope with her memories that number thousands of years, and so it caused her to enter a catatonic state."

"How do we help her?"

"The forced memories will fade away, and she gets to normal, though without the recollection of the triggers."

The girl is coming back from her trance. I hide in order to prevent from the unpleasant experience.

…

The 1st POV

I notice Steven is holding me in with arms. I jump from his embrace, hoping that dim light can hide my embarrassment.

"What happened?" I ask him. Steven is no longer in his white suit, but in his casual wear.

"You blacked out. I think you should go home to rest. Meeting a moon deity and nearly getting cut takes its toll on you."

And Steven walks me home. Without Khonshu this time. Or at least I think so.

…

Getting to my flat, I thank Steven and give him my number in case he'll need to reach me. Bidding goodbye, he leaves.

A few minutes later, I hear a knock on the door. Did Steven forget something?

"Steven, do you —," but it isn't Steven.

At the threshold is standing a tall man, with long dark hair and groomed beard, who is wearing plain white clothes.

"Em, can I help you," I ask awkwardly.

"My name is Barry. I'm avatar of Ra. I'll like to talk to you, dear." The man grins.

----------

Well, it took longer than I expected. I hope it's worth it :)

Thoughts?

Taglist:

@a-hopeless-fan

#khonshu x you #khonshu x reader #khonshu #jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight #moon knight x reader #steven grant #marvel #mcu

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eclairfromleclerc · 3 years ago

Text

Hello everyone. It feels like ages since I posted the previous chapter of All’s Fair but honestly life and uni exams are catching up after the christmas break. This is another long chapter (6.7K words to be exact) so pardon me. I didn’t want to break it into parts since I have more things in mind for the next chapters. Once again keep in mind that english is not my native language so pardon any mistakes. I hope you will enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think of it. Hopefully I will be able to post more often as soon as I finish my exams. Stay tuned for more xx.

All’s Fair

(Toto Wolff x Reader) Chapter 5

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

You hear a phone ringing in your sleep so you extend your hand in the nightstand to get it keeping your eyes closed. You pick up the phone and hear a voice.

“This is your wake up call for 8.30. Have a nice day.”

You quickly open your eyes when you realize that you have to be in the paddock in 30 minutes but you find out that you are not in your room. The heavy headache brings back memories from yesterday. Of course this is not your hotel. You remember that you came here last night. The Ritz. And apart from the fact that you are at Ritz you are in Toto’s room, Toto’s bed to be exact. You remember that you left drunk and came here to confront him. It’s not like you were completely wrecked last night but for a reason you have a massive memory gap. Everything is faint in your mind. The fact that you are already late for your day comes back to your mind and you stand up from the bed to look for your phone and call Christian to inform him that you will be late. You look around for your phone only to see it in the nightstand next to the bed. Connected on a charger-in which you definitely don't remember connecting it to. You press the button to open it but the phone restarts. It was dead all night since you were an idiot and you decided not to charge it before going out with Max. You open your phone and it immediately starts pinging with notifications.

4 Missed Calls From Christian ‘Dad’ Horner

8 Missed Calls From Max Emilian Verstappen

15 New Messages from Max Emillian Verstappen

3 New Messages from Christian ‘Dad’ Horner

You remember you promised Max to call him as soon as you arrived at the hotel but you never did.

You call your dad back to let him know that you were going to be late as you walk to the living room of Toto’s suite. You see a room service trailer with food plates on it.

“Where the hell are you?” your dad tells you “I’ve been waiting in the hotel for 25 minutes.”

“I’m sorry dad. You can leave. I will be late today. I will see you in the paddock.”

“We will discuss it later today. I will be waiting for you, you have no excuses. “ he says and he hangs up.

You call Max as you walk towards the room service cart.

“Where were you last night? Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you text? I was scared as hell you idiot.” he tells you as soon as he picks up.

“I’m so so sorry Max, I forgot I had to text you. I just slept and forgot all about what I told you I would do.”

“Promise me that you’ll never drink and leave alone again.” he tells you.

“I promise Max Emilian Verstappen.” you tell him as you see a piece of paper on the table.

“Don’t call me that, especially right now.”

“Sorry Max. I will be a little late but I will see you in the paddock.”

“Late? Just tell me that you didn’t do anything stupid.” he whines

“I will tell you in the paddock Max" you reply as you look at the paper and see that there's something written on it.

"Okay see you later you drunk missy"

"See you later dumbass" you tell him and you end the call. You pick the paper from the table and start reading it.

"Good Morning. If you are reading this you are probably awake and alright. I had to be in the paddock by 9 and I left. The food on the trailer is breakfast and the pills next to it are supposed to help with whatever kind of hangover you have. Please eat and drink them. If you are looking for your phone I connected it to my charger since it was dead. Max called like 5 times you should call him back. In the closet on your right as you enter my room There's a white Mercedes button up and a pair of trousers as well as a bag with a pair of glasses. Thought you would want to leave this hotel without being seen as ‘Horner’s daughter who was at the Mercedes hotel early In the morning before going ro the paddock’. Just wear them and pretend you are one of us. There will be someone waiting for you outside to get you. I'll see you around in the paddock. Have a nice day-as nice as it can be when you had that much to drink the day before.

-Toto"

Well for the signs of idiocy that he has shown he's quite sweet. You wouldn't be able to treat him this way if it was the other way round. You take a note mentally to thank him when you see him next. Toto Wolff just became a bit less of an asshole in your eyes.

You take a bite from a butter croissant that was on the breakfast trailer along with some sandwiches. You also take the pills Toto told you about and you go to the closet. Once you open the closet door you see it is pretty much full of Mercedes button ups, and black pants. Toto’s blue shirt with his initials TCW is also in the closet along with his beige pants which is his to go outfit outside of the paddock. You see a shirt and a pair of black pants separately from the others so you take them out of the closet, take your last night dress out and you put on the Mercedes gear he left you. The shirt is a bit oversized, clearly Toto’s as it smells like expensive men's perfume but the pants fit you perfectly. They are clearly not Toto's. Thank you Mercedes employee who sacrificed your pants. You put your dress in the bag and wear your pair of high heels and the big black glasses Toto left for you along with a Mercedes mask and you get out of his suite. You walk down to the hotel lobby with slight memories from last night coming back to you. The empty lobby, Sharon, Ritz's policy and your checkbook. You fucking bribed a person to give you Toto’s details. Thankfully Noone recognizes you, Sharon isn't in the reception either. Thank God. Talk about a walk of shame.

You go outside and see a black Mercedes waiting for you "Room 246? The suite?" The man inside it says

"Yes." You answer getting that this was a code name as you get in the car and ride back to your hotel.

A little before you arrive, you think that people can't see you entering the Red Bull hotel with the Mercedes gear on so you switch back to your dress from last night and you put the ones you were wearing in the black bag. You instruct the driver to enter the hotel from the parking to have the minimal interaction possible with people.

"May I have a name please?" The security guy at the parking entrance asks

"Yes. Horner, thank you very much" your driver says

"Of course, have a nice day"

The driver leaves you at the hotel parking and you walk to the elevator. An elevator ride and some walking later you are outside your suite’s door so you get in and dress up for the day. The usual outfit. Red Bull team shirt and a pair of white trousers. You pack your stuff and leave the hotel. You drive to the paddock. It is already 10 so you are already an hour late. You get in the paddock which is relatively empty since everyone is in the garages. You find your assistant Beth and hand her your stuff to leave them in your office and you walk to the pitwall. You take your seat and start catching up with the data in front of you as well as the programme for the last day of testing. You are alone at the pit wall with several Red Bull mechanics until Max and Christian join you.

“Glad you remembered to be here.” Christian tells you sarcastically

“Good morning to you too, dad.” you answer.

“What have I missed?” you ask

“Well not much, we only started like 10 minutes ago, you should be fine catching up” Max answers

“We did discuss some things that you didn’t listen to though.” Christian tells you

“If your plan is to make me mad, it is working. Please leave.” you tell him

“Okay I am leaving.” he turns to leave but turns back to you “Ah i forgot, you are doing press today, all of it, not just the f1 or just sky.”

“But what about the debrief? It is the final before the season opener, I have to be there”

“If you were here on time you would have been able to attend the debrief but sadly someone has to do press.”

You turn to look at the screens in front of you as Max sits right by your side

“What happened last night?” he asks

“You can’t imagine”

“Do I wanna know?” he says singing the song from Arctic Monkeys

“I did not sleep in my room last night…”

“TELL ME YOU DID NOT SLEEP WITH JACK THE MECHANIC” he yells at you whispering

“NO MAX FOR GOD’S SAKE” you reply with the same way “I did not sleep in the hotel in general” he looks at you with his mouth wide open showing his surprise

“Where the fuck did you sleep then?”

“The Ritz”

“Tell me you are not shagging someone from Mercedes.”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean not exactly?”

“You do remember everything Toto has said about me in the past month and in the last 3 days right?”

“You did not sleep with Toto Wolff did you?”

“No Max I didn’t.” he sighs feeling relieved “I slept in his room, in his bed to be exact.”

“WHAT?”

“I drank a lot and I just started thinking about how shit I am and how everyone thinks I don’t deserve to be here. So I went to the Ritz to see Toto and tell him to stop saying all that bullshit to the press. I went there and then something happened. So I slept in his bed, woke up today and came here.”

“What happened?”

“Look Max, I have a huge memory gap of the night and scenes just come back to my mind. I just remember that I told him whatever I had to and then he didn’t let me go back.”

“Okay I’ll be right here if you need to tell me anything.” Max tells you.

For the rest of the time you keep reading data taking notes that you would normally take during the debrief. You won’t be there but you might as well do the work you would do in other cases. Checo comes into the pits, the team tries different setups once again, for the last time for this year you are doing your testing programme. Time passes by and you still get some scenes from last night, Toto telling you not to go back to the hotel at this state and persuading you to sleep in his hotel and you passing out earlier but still the night did not have a logical flow in your mind. The 3 hours of the last day of testing are done and you get ready to go to the media pen for your press duties.

“I will see you later Maxy?” you tell him

“Yes of course, I will be waiting.”

You do Sky and Canal+ just before your official F1 interview. You check your email for details.

Group 3 15.30

Mercedes AMG F1

Red Bull Racing

McLaren

Of course they would pair Red Bull and Mercedes with McLaren. You would have to put up with this for a second time in three days. You go to the press conference room where Will is and you take the middle seat like the last time. You wait for Zak and Toto to arrive to begin your interview.

“Hello everyone” Zak says as he walks in the room alongside Toto

“Hello Zak, Mr Wolff.” you say

“Miss Horner, hello.” Toto replies

“Are we ready to start?” Will asks and the three of you nod

“We have here the 3 team representatives to talk about the pre-season testing, now that we are done, what are your impressions of your cars, the new regulations and the new rules? Let’s hear from Ms. Horner first.”

“We are happy with our car, we are in a position where we know where we can be and what we can challenge for. We still have some ideas on how to improve the car for Australia but our main package is what is currently in our garages and on the track. The new car regulations changed many things in the way we operate. Whether those regulations will help us to make races more interesting and keep the pack closer we will find out on the first race. For now, in Red Bull, we will keep working towards our goals and hopefully we can achieve them.” you reply

Will moves on to Zak but you can’t even keep up with what he’s saying. Your headache is suddenly so bad that you feel a growing dizziness. Zak finishes with his answer and Toto starts his as you hear his voice you have flashbacks from yesterday. You going to the hotel, bribing Sharon, going to his room to confront him, starting to tell him everything that his comments made you feel. And then there’s a clear picture of you pinned in the wall and him closer to you than he’s ever been. And then you kissing him, him kissing back. This can’t be true. You remember blacking out and being woken up by him, and then the fighting about you staying at the Ritz. Every single thing about yesterday comes back to your mind. What the fuck? You actually fucking kissed him?

“Ms Horner, do you want to reply?” Will asks but you haven’t heard a word from him

“Um, excuse me, would you repeat the question please?” you tell him while your dizziness is getting worse. Toto turns to you and whispers

“Are you okay?” he looks concerned.

“No, not really. I am not feeling very good.” you tell him and he tells someone to get a glass of water. You try to reply to Will's question as he hands you the water. You try to calm down and focus on the job you were doing as best as you can. If Christian sees this after today's morning you are going to be dead. You keep up with the questions and the answers feeling slightly better. When the press conference ends you stand up to leave for the Media Pen again to complete your interviews. Before you can even leave the room Toto comes by your side. You stop walking and look at him, he stops right by your side.

"Look, I am really sorry for upsetting you last night by coming to your hotel room. I was drunk and insecure and I had no right to come and tell you how to make statements." You tell him looking at him.

"You were not wrong to be honest. I was quite harsh, you are a first timer here and I had to be supportive. I am an asshole."

"Everything you planned for today morning tells me otherwise. I mean you might not be a Saint but you are definitely a bit less of an asshole than I thought."

"Oh the breakfast and all that was practically nothing, you were drunk as you said, a hangover needs some resting." He replies

"And also, I don't want you to take seriously anything that I've done yesterday."

"Like?" He tells you with a smug face

"Like me kissing you?"

"You remember." He says looking surprised.

"Yes I remember, I did not know what I was doing, alcohol was doing the talking here." You tell him

"Didn't seem like it was totally out of control, Miss Horner. Plus you told me you knew what you were doing. It wasn’t like a drunk you took over and then the normal you came back.”

“ I am not discussing it here with all of those people passing by.” you tell him trying to avoid the conversation you were definitely not ready to have.

“I would like to but anyway. Just remember I was taken a bit by surprise as well. ” he tells you

“I remembered what happened last night during the interview.”

“I figured it out, you were ready to pass out again.”

“Thanks for the water.”

“It was really nothing.” he replies

You look at him unsure of what is happening in this conversation

“Why are you being nice to me? Last night, today?”

“You asked me to, right?” he asks you

“Yes I did but you don’t have to do what I want. Just go back to not liking me.” you laugh

“You won’t tell me what to do young lady.” he laughs “Gotta go, I have to be in the debrief. Don’t you?” he asks

“No, dad made me do all the press today as a punishment for being late. No debrief for me.”

“Good luck dealing with the post debrief notes.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.” you say and you turn to leave for the media pen.

For the rest of the day you keep answering questions for reporters all over the world, either small or bigger broadcasters and blogs. When you finish your duties you go back to the Red Bull hospitality which is starting to empty and you close the door to your office. You sit in your chair and you pour yourself a drink. They say that a hangover passes if you drink another alcoholic drink right?. You scroll in your phone and you see the texts from your friends

Sara 14.47

‘Bestie are you ok? I saw your press and you looked terrible. I haven’t heard from you since yesterday. Call or text if you find some time.’

Lizzie 12.34

‘Just opened the TV, you look on fire as always girl, I hope that car of yours is fast because I’m ready for many celebrations.’

You reply to them and to your group chat, and then just relax in your office looking at your socials and taking a look at the notes from the session earlier. Your chill out time is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“You may come in” you say and the door opens with Max standing outside the office.

“You didn’t learn from yesterday did you?” he laughs

“They say hangover passes with hangover now that’s what I am doing.” you say. You take one deep breath. “Max, I remembered what happened yesterday. It was during the press conference. I almost passed out when I realized it.”

“Spill the tea.”

“Well, I left the restaurant in a taxi and as we were on that huge highway I started feeling so small and meaningless, then all of the details about how I am letting everyone down came to my mind, and then Toto. I had to see him and tell him that his statements are making me feel like shit and that he should stop so I asked the driver to change the destination to the Ritz. I arrived there and it was empty so I went to the reception and asked for Toto’s hotel room.”

“You fucking asked a receptionist to give you their clients personal info?”

“Yes and she told me she couldn’t do this due to policy.”

“Well surprise,” he tells you ironically.

“And then I took my check book out and gave her money to give me his information.”

“YOU DID WHAT?” he yells

“Will you shut up? I have to continue now.” you reply “So she agreed and gave me his room number, I went there knocked on the door and he answered it obviously. So I started crying and told him that he has no right to make me feel like shit, that he is pretentious and that he doesn’t know how to lose.”

“And?”

“And he got mad and pinned me against a wall.”

“Did you punch the guy? Tell me you did, I wanted to do this for so long, his face is just so punchab-”

“I kissed him” you interrupt him

“Excuse me?” he asks you, face full of doubt

“I fucking kissed Wolff Max”

“Why the hell did you do this?” he tells you looking in despair

“I don’t know, I was drunk and pinned against the wall with the guy just centimeters away from my face.” you tell him

“He’s the fucking rival you idiot. Why did you do this? Do you like him?”

“No Max. I mean I haven’t thought about it but generally no.”

“What happened next? Tell me you didn’t shag him.”

“I realized what I did and then I passed out for a while. He caught me and carried me to the bed and then tried to wake me up.”

“And?”

“And I woke up and told him I would leave but he wouldn’t let me so I slept on his bed and him on the couch.”

“At least you were wise about that.”

“Today I woke up and he had ordered breakfast before he left.”

“You do realize that what you are telling me is not healthy at all right?”

“I know, would you just let me live my life?” you say “He left me a full Mercedes outfit for me to leave the hotel without being seen. I have one of his Mercedes shirts in a bag in my hotel room.”

“You are fucking crazy you know that?” Max laughs

“I know, Max. What happened is in the past, I am moving forward, into the first race we go."

"Just don't keep doing crazy things. Wanna go grab a bite or some coffee?"

"Yeah but I am flying at 9 so I have to be at the airport a bit earlier than that."

"I will be leaving at 7, I will leave straight after our coffee. Do you want to join?"

"Thanks but I told Christian I would fly with him today and he wouldn't be happy if I canceled, especially today. Besides, aren't you flying to monaco?"

"I am but I if you decide to come I would come to Milton Keynes for some sim work"

"Thank you but dad will be waiting so…" you tell him

"Shall we go?"

You stand up and grab your stuff as Max opens the door. Both of you exit the motor home of Red Bull and walk in the paddock greeting people you know. You get in the car as the photographers remaining take pictures of you and you drive to the restaurant Max proposed.

You get there, you and Max sit on a table for 2 and enjoy your dinner. You discuss many things, most of them not race related and the time passes quickly.

"I've gotta go, I have my pilots waiting for me on the jet. Are you sure you are not coming?"

"Yess Max, thank you very much. You can go."

"We have to pay first." He laughs

"This one's on me. Go''

"Thank you so much" he says and he gives you a hug "See you in Monaco or Milton Keynes."

"See ya idiot." You reply.

You see Max leaving the restaurant and ask for the bill. You pay for everything you and Max took and you leave the restaurant yourself. You drive to the hotel and go back to your suite. You pack your stuff for your flight, including that bag with the Mercedes gear from earlier, which is in two hours or so and you spend the remaining time just chilling in your suite, knowing that you will be coming back to this place in a few weeks time. About one hour before your scheduled meeting with your dad on the jet you check out of the hotel. You know that the ride to the airport is roughly 30 minutes with traffic and then passing security will take you like 10 minutes, so you will be 10 minutes early. Christian will be happy. You drive to the airport and leave your car to the designated area. You head in the airport and pass security with the time being just as you calculated. Once you are ready to go to the private jet waiting lounge and you walk to the gate to go to your jet where Christian is waiting.

“Your name and destination?” the airport employee asks

“Horner. I am flying to England, my father is already in the jet.” you say ready to pass the gate

“I am afraid the jet has already left.”

“Excuse me?” What the hell is this shit? Christian was supposed to wait.

“I thought your dad had informed you that he left earlier because of some urgent job in Oxford, the plane took off like 5 minutes ago.”

“Okay thank you very much. Can I wait here to schedule my flight to go back home?”

“Yes of course. The next commercial flight to England is in two hours fyi.” he tells you trying to help

“Thank you.”

You leave the gate and sit in those awfully comfortable armchairs of the jet lounge. You text Christian.

You

What the hell was that?

Christian ‘Dad’ Horner

Sorry?

You

You fucking left me in the airport in Bahrain.

Christian ‘Dad’ Horner

It was urgent i had to go

You

You could have at least fucking called me, I was literally in security

Christian ‘Dad’ Horner

Look, it is important, if i called you we would lose another 30 minutes

You

So you decided to just leave me here without telling me and now I have to take a commercial flight back home which is in 2 fucking hours.

Christian ‘Dad’ Horner

I guess we are on equal terms right now

You

You did this because I was late today?

Wow dad, I thought we were well past the time you were 5

Don’t text me back, I am angry and I have to deal with this, I will see you in England.

You start looking at flights to England and try to figure out which ones suit you the best. Most of them are booked but there are a couple of tickets left. You select the seat you wanted to book and reach for your bags to get your credit card. As you find your wallet in that mess of a bag that you have you look up. You see Toto coming into the lounge area giving his name to the employee on the gate and then talking with him, probably settling details. He turns and walks towards the armchairs when he spots you. With a surprised face he walks to you.

“It seems like we can’t run away from each other those last 3 days.” he laughs

“I always see you in front of me, are you stalking me or something?” you joke

“I have better things to do, I have to confess.” he tells you “Are you waiting for your flight?” he asks

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Kinda what?”

“I was supposed to fly with my dad but he decided that he had something urgent that couldn’t wait for 5 minutes for me to get in that jet. Max left earlier. So I am booking a commercial flight which leaves in 2 hours. I am not even supposed to be here.” You tell him, showing him your wallet and booking page.

“Where are you going? Monaco or Oxford?”

“I am supposed to go to Oxford.”

“I am flying to England myself, the jet will be ready in like 10 minutes.”

“Weird flex but okay.” you say

“No, what I wanted to say is whether you want to join me on my flight or just wait for another 2 hours for the commercial one.”

“Is this really possible?”

“Yeah, I am traveling alone so you can join me.”

“You are a lifesaver. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” he answers as he sits down in the armchair next to you and he keeps himself busy doing the same. You text Max to tell him about what happened.

You

I am guessing I should have come with you when you asked me to

Max Emillian Verstappen

What happened?

You

Christian had something urgent back in England and he had to go literally 5 minutes before I boarded the jet

Max ‘Emilian’ Verstappen.

Sounds like something that Christian would do after today. I am sure it wasn’t on purpose.

You

I am not so sure though

Max ‘Emilian’ Verstappen

What are you going to do now?

You

I have an alternative

Max Emilian Verstappen

Commercial?

When you are ready to type your answer to Max you hear Toto calling your name

“Jet’s ready, we can go.” he says as he stands up and gets his luggage, you do the same and you follow him to the gate exit where he gives his name once again. You exit the lounge and a black Mercedes is outside to get you to the place where the jet is. He opens the back seat door and you go in. He closes the door and sits in the front seat. The ride to the jet takes no more than 4 minutes and you sit in silence trying to realize what is happening. The black Mercedes stops in front of a jet, which is bigger than the one you are usually using with your dad, and you reach for the door but before you can open it Toto does it for you. You step outside and wait to get your bags from the trunk.

“They are going to have them loaded on the jet, let’s go.” He tells you and he leads the way to the jet’s stairs which you carefully climb since you got your high heels on.

You get inside and leave your bags on one of the empty seats while Toto is talking to the pilots in the cockpit. You sit in the seat you chose and wait for your rival to come to the cabin. He ends his conversation with the pilots and turns to the cabin where he sees you sitting.

“I might have been kind enough to propose a flight to England but I am afraid I have to ask you to switch seats.” he tells you

“Why is that so?”

“Well, that’s my seat” he says with his infamous smug face that you so much hate

“I really need to go to England so I will do you a favor.” you answer and you stand up to sit in the seat opposite to the one you were sitting. He leaves his bag and sits where you were sitting before, being totally calm and chill. You relax yourself, the cabin door closes and the jet starts moving. You remember you had to answer to Max.

You take your phone and snap a picture of the plane, making sure Toto is in the frame and that he is totally recognizable. You press send.

“I hope there won’t be a picture of me in my jet all over your socials.”

“I just sent it to Max”

“You two seem to be quite close.”

“We are indeed” you tell him smiling

Max Emilian Verstappen

You are an idiot

I am blocking you

Is this a joke?

You promised you wouldn’t do anything stupid

You

I am not doing anything stupid, I was just in the jet lounge and he came and offered me a ride. It’s not like I would sit and wait for like another 2 hours.

Gotta go, I’ll come back to you later

The plane starts accelerating and before you can even understand it you are up in the air. Toto looks out of the window lost in his thoughts.

“You want something to drink?” he asks

“I was literally drunk yesterday night.”

“Yeah you are right. Let me know if you need anything though.”

“Tough day at the track?” you ask

“If you start talking about racing, cars and F1 I will throw you out of this plane and I’m not even joking.”

“What do you want to talk about then?”

“Tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Something apart from the fact that you are annoying as hell and that you get drunk and go to people’s hotel rooms.”

“There’s pretty much nothing interesting about me. I was born into the Horner family so I’ve grown up in the paddocks. I love what I am doing and I love traveling. I adore good music and movies and I am obsessed with wearing high heels even when I can’t even walk like right now. I have a French Bulldog back in Oxford named Peanut and I drive an Aston Martin although I always wanted a Mercedes. I wanted to study engineering but also loved management. I have this bracelet that all of my friends gave me and it is my lucky charm so I can’t go anywhere without it. And as you understand I talk a lot. That’s me.”

“Well you know we spend so much time trying to get to each other's heads and we never get to know our rival. This was enlightening.”

“What about you?”

“Nothing you haven’t heard of. I was born in Vienna but my Parents are Polish and Romanian. I lost my dad when I was young and it left a scar on me since I was a kid. I’ve been kicked out of a French school because we weren’t able to pay the tuition. I speak five languages and I love learning new things. Finance has always been my love and combining it with racing is making me a really happy person. That’s all”

“Interesting.” you say as you look outside the plane door suddenly you start laughing

“What is it ?” he asks wondering if you have gone crazy

“My university professors would kill me if they heard this conversation.”

“Why?”

“They would tell me this is a PR suicide. You never reveal your true self to your rival because they will crush you using what you’ve told them.”

“What exactly would I use against you for PR? That you love wearing those high heels or that you always wanted to drive a Mercedes?”

You laugh, “Honestly, I don't know.”

“well then i promise you that this conversation will stay in this jet”

You turn a bit to the side and let the lack of sleep of the past days take over.

Four and a half hours later you wake up. You open your eyes and you see the seat across you empty. You turn around and see that nobody is in the jet. What the hell? Did you dream the whole thing? You stand up and yell his name. Some seconds later he emerges from a door in the back of the cabin.

“Oh you woke up.”

“Omg sorry for interrupting you I just thought I dreamt all about this.”

“No, I was just in the toilet. And you definitely didn’t dream of this.”

“Where are we?”

“We will arrive in about an hour. Do you have anyone to take you home?”

“No but I will probably take a taxi.”

“Okay, I will drive you home.”

“No you don’t have to do this, a taxi will work just fine Toto.”

“I am not discussing this.” he glares at you

“Whatever” you say and sit on his seat making him angry.

For the rest of the flight you chat with Max and listen to some music while chilling. You start feeling the jet going down as you prepare for the landing. You check yourself with the camera of your phone making sure everything is okay for the outside world to see and you await for your touchdown to Oxford.

The plane lands, you remain seated and you turn off flight mode from your phone as you come to a complete stop.

You had 3 Missed Calls from Christian ‘Dad’ Horner

Of course he felt bad and he wanted to talk to you

“We will wait for a while to get the car outside the jet so we can leave immediately.” he tells you and you nod in agreement. You stand up and go to the cockpit door. You knock on it and you hear someone approaching. One of the two pilots opens the door.

“Hello, how was your flight?” he asks

“It was really nice. In fact that’s why I came here. I wanted to thank you for the flight today. It was great.”

“Thank you very much, it is not every day that you get to fly ladies like you.” he smiles at you

Coincidentally at this very time Toto comes to you with his hands full of your stuff

“We are leaving.” he tells you handing you your blazer

“Mike, thank you for the flight.” he says and shows you the way. You walk down the stairs and there’s another black Mercedes waiting for you

“Welcome Mr. Wolff, here are your keys.” one of the airport employees says

“Thank you very much” he grabs his keys and opens his door. He gets in and you walk to the other side of the car doing the same.

“Where are we going?” he asks

Without answering you navigate through the Mercedes’ panel and use the GPS putting your address in it.

“Drive” you tell him and he chuckles.

He drives the car and you leave the airport. The ride is too quiet so you reach for your phone and connect it to the car's sound system. Him looking at you while you are doing it. You put on a chill playlist to play in the background.

“That Mike pilot, he was nice.” you say

“He’s just learning. Did you like him?”

“I just said he was nice.” you laugh thinking about how he sounded jealous but you are probably just making this up

The rest of the ride continues in silence apart from your playlist playing in the background. The car comes to a stop and you take off your seatbelt, opening the door to get out. You go to the back of the car to get your luggage but as soon as you get there Toto opens the trunk and takes all of your bags out of the car.

“Thank you very much for this, I owe you one.” you tell him

“It was really not a big deal, you needed help and I helped you. It’s not that I hate you as much as you think I do.”

“So you hate me but less?” you ask him

“Do not put words I didn’t say in my mouth. You don’t know what I meant.”

“Well, will you tell me?”

“Nope, goodnight.” he tells you trying to break out of it

“Come onnnnn” you whine

“See you in Australia.” he tells you

“Thanks for everything Toto.”

You get in the garden and walk towards the entrance. There’s not a single light open. You get in quietly pulling your stuff in. Suddenly the light opens.

“Who was that?” Christian asks you

“A friend.” you reply trying to cover everything.

“How did you get here?”

“I flew commercial. Changed 2 flights. I am so tired I just want to go to sleep.” you tell him

“Mercedes has something sketchy on the car. We are thinking of protesting it. Adrian says we might get something out of it. That’s what happened before I left you in Bahrain.”

“And?”

“And it seems like the war has already started.”

Indeed the war has already started but today showed you that it might be a little different than you thought. Keeping everything in mind you go to your room, leave your bags and fall asleep.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #All's fair fic

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Powerful Ch. 1

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU* Quirkless as well

Warnings: Arranged (sort of) marriage, brief mention of champagne, mentions of violence (nothing too specific). In later chapters: Probably smut

Word Count: 3.4 k

Author’s Note: ALRIGHTY here we go. I just had a fixation on Mafia AUs and, of course, it’s Shouta. What else did you expect? I’m a sucker for arranged relationships. Also he’s a little ooc in here, more confident, more ‘I want it I got it’. Hey, he’s the most powerful man in Japan, might as well have him act like it right? Anywho, I have no clue how many chapters this’ll end up being. Let’s just say this is ongoing for now.

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Enjoy~

25 years old and you haven’t been married off yet. This was strategic on your father’s part. As a rather low-ranking clan he’d purposely saved you, his eldest daughter, for marrying into a higher ranked clan. You’d bring immense honor to the family name. If only you’d known what you were getting into, maybe you could have been better prepared for your world to flip on its head.

The black velvet gown you wear is tailored perfectly to your form, accentuating every curve and dip on your body. The skirt fanned out around you gracefully and a short train trailed behind you as you stepped through the grand doors of the massive mansion. Tonight is the annual celebratory ball, held to celebrate successful unions and achievements. This one was particularly special, you just didn’t quite know it yet.

Since the event wasn’t mandatory, you were told to go in alone as a representative of your clan, while Mother and Father attended to more important matters. Before you even stepped in you fixed your posture and schooled your expression, keeping your form humbled. Heavens know what could happen should you irk the wrong clan.

Inside you were met with an onslaught of mixed everything, mixed drinks and colors and styles. Some wore traditional Japanese kimono, others more modern versions of the garment and others, like you, wearing more extravagant european or western style clothing. Though a rather interesting mix, nothing quite clashed which you were slightly grateful for, since there was no possible way you could make it through the night without a headache if there was an unpleasant mix of visuals.

You strode through and instantly met several lower clan heads that you respectfully bowed to and engaged in pleasant small talk with, moving from person to person, couple to couple and paying respects to all of them. You kept a small smile, a pleasant facade as you waltzed over the hardwood flooring. It took almost two hours of endless conversation before you managed to catch a break in the madness, snatching a small flute of champagne from a waiter and leaning up against a wall for a breath.

You still hadn’t noticed the pair of dark eyes that studied you from the moment you arrived.

____

You struck him as intriguing at first. From the moment you walked over the threshold his eyes drank you in, studying you, observing and judging just as he had with many other women before you. No one here knows it, but the man is looking for a bride. Someone who could stand by his side,improve and uphold his image, help him wield the power that is the Yakuza. Yes, rank is important, but Shouta is too picky to care about rank. He is looking for a specific type of woman, one that can hold untold depths of power without crumbling under the pressure or getting swept up in the rush of it all.

A woman, he decides, like you.

You held yourself with grace, pride and humility. You seemed to understand your position, your probable low rank, while also not undermining your importance nor worth. A woman like you is hard to come by in this world, most just as power hungry and ruthless and greedy as their husbands, all while putting up a cotton candy sweet mask and using it to disguise their conniving ways.

But in truth, that’s what it took to live this kind of life, isn’t it?

It was clear you knew that, while still managing to feel genuine in everything you did, even with an action as simple as sipping champagne. At the same time he can’t deny you are quite beautiful, soft lips and softer eyes, fingers gently grasping your glass with unmatched elegance and an unwavering strength in your posture. You’d bowed before many this evening, and yet you stood taller than even the highest ranking clan heads without challenging a single one of them. Bamboo in this forest of tall, unyielding trees. Capable of wielding so much power.

For a split second his mind wandered to other things, filthy moments shared in the privacy of his chambers, shared breaths and shimmering sweaty skin. He wondered what you would be like underneath him, if you would be a brat or willingly submit yourself to him. He hopes it to be the latter, but wouldn’t completely deny the chance to tame someone difficult. How would you look pinned under his weight, completely helpless to his hands that have killed and tortured? Would you claw at his shoulders or grip the sheets instead? What would you sound like? Your image plagued his mind even if only for a moment.

He’d studied many women over the few hours since the event started, none of them giving him a good enough first impression for him to continue watching further than a minute. There was no question in his mind now. You’d be returning home with him tonight.

____

You had just finished your drink and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray when suddenly the ballroom fell extremely silent. All heads turned, eyes focused on the man that began his descent from the balcony overlooking the floor. He’s gorgeous, long black hair pulled into a low bun and exposing the light scruff on his chin and impossibly sharp jaw, a deep scar curved under his right eye. The full black satin suit is fitted to his form, strong shoulders and rolling muscle evident even under the thick materials. Ink peeked over the collar, a hint at what was definitely intricate sleeves and detailed artwork. His steps were measured, calculated and purposeful as he made his way down and across the floor, the entire room bowing down at his presence.

You know who he is, as does every person here. Top rung of the ladder, Oyabun of the most powerful clan in Japan, his name widely known through the entire organization and yet almost never spoken. Shouta Aizawa, a name both respected and feared, holding unknown power and strength. His reputation is enough to make anyone feel small in his presence, known for his cold demeanor and the violence he’d committed, many losing their fingers, loved ones, and their own lives for misdeeds against him. He’d done most of that himself, marking him as a very dangerous man to be involved with, and an ally everyone wanted backing them.

You bowed down respectfully just as everyone else did, waiting patiently for a release, whether it was from the man himself or a collective understanding that it was alright to rise once again. The former was the first to come to fruition, though you didn’t expect him to be so close to you as he said it. Your eyes met with sharp onyx as you fixed yourself upright. It made you freeze in place, not quite tense, not quite relaxed, your expression hopefully not showing the utter shock you were feeling.

“What is your name?” You blinked only once before your mind caught up, and you willed your voice steady as you responded. What had you done to piss him off? What punishment awaited you for what you didn’t know you’d done? Despite fearing what may come, you don’t dare speak out of turn, even to beg for your life. His next words were addressed to the entire ballroom, you included, his smooth, deep voice booming out and yet somehow not loud at all.

“Any transgression against this woman is a transgression against me. As my future wife she is untouchable, and will remain that way until I explicitly state otherwise.” A collective hushed gasp sounded through the massive hall, your own eyes growing wide and your heart damn near stopping as your brain dissected the information. He just made you his fiance, with no warning, no hesitation, and full confidence. You are now engaged to the most powerful man in Japan, and you have exactly zero say in the matter. Really though, you never expected to be able to voice any opinions considering the patriarchy of the organization, so that bit of shock was quickly overlooked.

“It’s time to retire, little one.” His hand was held out to you, waiting for your own. You blinked, deciding it was best that you saved your shock for later you focused on the here and now and what to do in this moment. Taking a breath, you schooled your face into a pleasant smile and placed your hand in his waiting palm, allowing him to tuck you into his side as you both walked out the front doors and climbed into a black limouzine.

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, sitting silently next to the man as trees and telephone poles whizzed by the vehicle. It was tense, to say the least, his hand possessively sat on your knee as his eyes remained fixed in front of him and yours did the same. Neither of you talked, you slightly out of fear, of respect, and slightly out of sheer shock, your mind just barely able to keep itself together. He remained silent for a purpose. He would talk when you were alone, or when he felt like talking. Which isn’t right now.

You let your mind whirl a bit, worrying about what this meant for you. Worrying about how this powerful man would treat you, how he acted behind closed doors and if he even cared about you or what you might have to say. It’s nerve-wracking, suddenly bound to a power such as him, not knowing what could happen next, not knowing what to do next. There was nothing that could have prepared you for this.

The car slowed as it pulled up to the gate of the enormous estate, shaking you out of your thoughts, and once it opened the drive to the main house took nearly five minutes on its own. It’s a modern home, several stories tall with the top clearly penthouse-style with a full glass wall that overlooks the landscape, the rest of the huge inner home hidden behind crisp walls.

At a full stop, a man opens the door for you, the Oyabun having already exited and held a hand out for you to grab once again, strong muscles pulling you up with ease and leading you through the building and into an elevator. The silence is stifling as you wait for the machine to come to a stop, the soft chime indicating you’ve landed.

Now you’re completely alone with him.

He leads you in and stops in the center of the large main room, stepping away and turning his scrutinizing gaze onto you. You do your best not to tense in front of him, not to show fear, partially for his comfort though you’re sure he’s used to it. His shoes clack softly, rhythmically on the polished wood floor as he begins to circle you, like a predator eyeing its prey, eyes burning paths up and down your form. You barely keep from squirming under his intense gaze, managing to keep still from sheer willpower. He stops suddenly behind you and you feel his warmth as he leans in close before a hand presses into your mid back and another gently grasps your shoulder, gently making you straighten even more, stand even taller.

Once he’s satisfied with your posture he rounds you and tilts your chin just a tad higher with a hooked finger. He’s silent as he shapes you, adjusting your body to his liking. You let him tenderly push and tug, grab and knead and trail those deadly fingers over you until he stops before you, studying you once again.

“You’re my fiance now. You will hold yourself as such, radiate power as I do and command the attention of a room with only a glance.” The reminder of just what was happening made your breath stutter a little, and his hand came up to grasp your chin, making you look up into his dark eyes.

“You will learn, little one, to be the powerful woman I see.” He was so close, the heat from his body rolling over your skin and his breaths fanning over your face. Then he was walking away, motioning for you to follow as he led you to his chambers and bathroom to get cleaned up. You’d be sleeping with him from now on, he said, handing you a robe to change into after you’ve bathed and guiding you into the bathroom before closing the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts as you set to cleaning yourself.

Given you don’t screw things up, you are going to be the most powerful woman in Japan, solely because of a sudden arranged marriage dropped seemingly from out of nowhere. But the longer you think about it, it isn’t really out of nowhere is it? The Oyabun is 30 now, and until tonight hadn’t named a wife, nor any love interests, and therefore no possible heirs. If the man were to die for any reason, those chances only increasing the older he gets, the power vacuum his absence would create would be absolute madness. You’re part of a strategy, just as before. Just as always.

Yet there was no denying he’d struck something inside you. Of all the women in that hall he approached you, a woman he didn’t know from a low ranked clan, for reasons you could only barely begin to guess. He’d called you powerful earlier, the sincerity in his voice making your mind spin. Did he really see you as powerful? And the name he’d used for you felt far too tender on the tongue of such a dangerous man, though you understood the nod toward your previous rank.

Father and Mother must be either confused, shocked, or overflowing with joy right about now. Confused as to why you haven’t returned, shocked, happy, or both at the news had they learned it. With your mind processing everything, your body finally begins to feel fatigued.

You shut off the water before drying yourself, patting your hair in the towel before pulling on the fluffy robe. It was clearly meant for him, the fuzzy black garment large around the shoulders and sleeves engulfing your hands, the garment nearly touching the floor where it’s meant to hang several inches from it on his frame. Despite swimming in the robe, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable. You’re bare beneath it, not having planned to not return home. Still, it’s late, and the Oyabun needs to shower as well. With a steadying breath, you step out into the room.

He’s standing near the bed, the top half of his clothing discarded and bare skin exposed, along with the heavy tattooing and scars along his body. Dragon scales decorated his skin, along with delicate swirls heavily resembling smoke and clouds that followed the curves of his corded muscles. He is undoubtedly a beautiful man. You don’t realize you’re staring until a miniscule smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, little one?” You blink away your daze and shift your eyes to the side, feeling the slight burn in your face at being caught. Instead of answering the cheeky question you choose to change the subject.

“I’m finished with my shower, Oyabun.” He hums, a low sound you can feel in your chest.

“I can see that, little one. And you call me Shouta.” You take a quiet, sharp inhale and nod.

“Yes, of course...Shouta.” His name feels heavy on your tongue, a name that people didn’t normally dare speak. He’s silent as he gathers his things and moves toward the bathroom, stopping momentarily by your side. You’re confused a moment before his calloused fingers gently grip your jaw and turn your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple for a split second before he’s disappearing into the bathroom.

You stand in shock, the tender touch unexpected. Shaking your head, you decide it’s best to lay down. Hopefully you’d fall asleep by the time he finishes bathing, but you doubted it. You’re proven right when, in the midst of mulling over your own thoughts, he emerges in nothing but sweatpants, dark hair still damp as it fell around his shoulders. You managed to avert your eyes before he could catch you staring for a second time tonight, and it wasn’t long before he slipped under the blankets next to you.

There wasn’t a single word shared between you as he flicked off the lights with a remote and settled into the plush mattress. There was no movement from the man as you lay with your back to him. You aren’t entirely sure if the lack of movement unsettles you more than if he were to be shuffling around. It felt like hours had passed in the darkness, your eyes had adjusted and you couldn’t sleep despite how exhausted you felt.

Your mind raced with questions. What happens now? What happens with your clan and parents? Would you have clothes soon? How would he treat you? How were you supposed to act around him? When is the wedding? Is the engagement already official? What if you disappoint him and fuck everything over? The entire situation makes you anxious, for more than something as trivial as your own safety. You shift onto your back and listen to Shouta’s soft snores, signaling his sleep. As silently and gently as you can, you slip out of bed.

You have no clue what you were going to do or where you were going to do it, but you had to get away from him if only for a moment, to let yourself breathe and think. Almost mindlessly, you find yourself staring out of the glass wall and out into the night. This far out, you can see the stars in the night sky clear and bright, and it was a sight you missed having lived in the city most of your life. Right here you have room to think, space to spread your thoughts and calm your mind to keep from jumbling everything in your brain and stressing over it more.

From what you can tell there is a very small chance Shouta would treat you maliciously, so for now you don’t have to worry about that. Considering his power and status, you won’t be without clothing for long. The thought was silly in the first place, but stress tended to make you question even the most ridiculous. As for how you’re meant to act, well that would have to be tested. He’d already told you how to appear to the public, so that shouldn’t be too hard, but being alone with the man was driving you insane.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts. You spin around, suddenly very much on guard, before Shouta’s voice broke through the darkness, his figure slowly approaching.

“What are you doing up, little one?” You bite your lip and turn to gaze outside again, hugging your arms tight.

“Just thinking. I apologize for waking you, Oya-… Shouta.” His warmth hit you before his skin did, chest pressed into your back and large rough hands gripping your shoulders firm but gentle. His breath is hot on your ear and neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Such an intimate action from him only hours after he’d made you his fiance was quite the shock in and of itself, only enhanced by the fact that this man is known for his cold nature.

“Thinking about what?” His hands smoothed down your arms, following them around your waist and encompassing your hands in his, tugging you into him further. Unnatural as it may seem, it feels good, his warmth. In the arms of such a dangerous and powerful man you should feel small and scared, but you don’t. You aren’t entirely sure what it is you feel. Truthfully, you don’t have the energy to answer his question properly.

“About a lot of things. Too many things.” Right now, the only thing you want to do is melt into the man’s arms. His presence is suddenly comforting, instead of worrying, and you feel safe in his embrace. You sigh and lean into him, fatigue finally beginning to tug at your body and mind. Strong arms scoop you up like nothing, and suddenly you’re being placed down on the bed before he climbs in and pulls you onto him. An arm circles your waist while the other cradles your head, a tender kiss placed at your hairline.

“Sleep, little one.” His fingers thread through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. It’s a soothing action, especially after nearly giving yourself a headache from stress. It isn’t long before you’re nodding off, relaxing into his body and letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa #mafia au bnha #mafia au mha #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader

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wordsinwinters · 3 years ago

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Then Again, Chapter 11: An Unheard Apology

Summary: After an intense fight and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Betas: @fanboyswhereare-you and @girl-tips-from-satan

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Then Again, Chapter 11: An Unheard Apology

(Word count: 1,103)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29,

Standing up, I turn and survey the area by default. Cars are gliding down streets, two workers from the hotel are smoking outside, and the bugs from the trees and lamp posts are buzzing and flying without purpose.

Everything is calm, normal, and still. It gives me another dose of hope. I can fix this.

I’m going back and making things right. I’m ready to apologize. Maybe I can salvage this trip, the thing she’s been so excited for. Speaking of which, I’ll definitely need to apologize to Ned and MJ too. The whole team, considering.

I pick up my phone, wondering if I should send her a text so I don’t waste another minute of her being upset or worried while I figure out how to sneak back in the building.

My screen is full of ignored messages.

“Ned: did you just leave? seriously?"

“I heard the door. was that you or her?"

“MJ said if I can’t hear yelling under the door you’re probably not there. sooo where are you??"

“unless you’re there by yourself."

“but i’ve heard you cry and that’s not you."

“I know my messages are going thru. you’re totally ruining whatever chance you’ve got."

“dude this is like the worst peter parker behavior ever. way worse than ditching me and MJ at that party. she’s seriously upset. you should be there."

“may said you’re still being unreasonable. come on bro. this is the last text I’m sending u.”

The last message is from half a minute ago, half an hour after the previous text.

“DUDE.”

Shit.

It’s like ice water has been poured down my back. I’ve never seen Y/N actually cry over anything. Like sad-scene-in-a-movie cry or just-finished-reading-a-really-good-book cry sure, but nothing real. She’s only quiet if something gets at her. I’m the one who can almost never keep my emotions off the radar. If I could, my eyes and throat wouldn’t still be burning and my face might look less red than my suit. (Not that I have it. Aunt May has it on lockdown at home.) Ned’s right: I should be there. I should have been able to stay with her in the first place to talk this out.

As I picture her in that room, crying alone, I feel my gut drop and my throat itch. This is the worst part of tonight.

Ned is definitely right. Or was, half an hour ago when he dubbed this my worst behavior ever. I have to go back immediately.

Get it together. You’re Spider-Man.

The whole walk back, I think about how I left her alone and probably more confused and hurt than I was when I stormed out. I’m such a shitty friend. This is exactly why I don’t deserve to be more than that to her. Jogging up the stairwell, I imagine how many people are in this hotel, all concentrated in the area I’m about to enter, and how if each of them knew how horrible I’ve been, they would probably kick me out. I can’t believe I left her crying.

I pause at the top of the stairs. I take a breath and I open the door.

Quietly with the key Ned and MJ left me, I slip into the room. For the split second it takes me to shut the door, light from the hallway falls over a massive blanket cocoon huddled on the left side of the bed. It’s something she does whenever she’s stressed or anxious. Anytime she has an important paper or project or presentation, she ends up like this the night before it’s due. It helps when she gets headaches too, I think.

You did this, dumb ass.

My chest is tightening all over again. I take a few steps forward and kneel beside the bed. I’m semi-prepared. I tug a corner of the blanket away from her face and lean in near her ear to whisper.

“Hey, you awake? I know you probably don’t want to see me right now. I just want to say I’m so sorry. I... I’m an idiot. A bona fide moron. If you never want to talk to me, I understand. But if you do, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your personal butler for a month. I’ll let you wear the suit whenev— like twice a week. I’ll do anything you want. I’m so sorry I freaked out and messed everything up.”

That wasn’t so hard. I exhale.

She doesn’t respond.

She’s not even awake.

The faint glow from the streetlamps outside and the alarm clock on the nightstand is enough to outline her face in pale red. Not a muscle moved. I’ll say it again tomorrow. More. And I’ll say it better. If I practice a better speech in my head a thousand times, maybe she’ll forgive me. Then we can work on never letting this happen again.

God, I’ve been such a moron.

I stand up and head to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Maybe it’s from trying to talk to her after today, but there’s this numb tingle in my arms somewhere between an itch and restlessness. It reminds me of how weird the first week was after the bite. Like the rest of my body is pushing my skin too far.

I look at the mirror. Shit. If Aunt May were here, she’d probably be freaking out a bit. I look rough. I look like shit.

I shake my head and focus on just getting ready to sleep. As inconvenient as it is, the competition is still tomorrow.

On the sink: my toothbrush, toothpaste, and retainers. Right where I left them. My bag.... Not where I left it. It was on the floor. Now… it’s not. It’s not in the bathroom at all. There’s a bag, but not mine. I turn off the light and open the door.

I use my phone to look over the room with dim light. Nothing. I open my messages.

“Ned, did you take my bag by accident?”

Whoosh.

Ned might be asleep now; MJ definitely is. If they have my bag, I don’t have my clothes. I planned on sleeping on the floor, but I really don’t want to be just in my trunks when she wakes up and we talk. That’d be weird.

Buzz.

“Ned: not an accident. MJ’s idea. you’ll be the most vulnerable person in the room and self-conscious enough to feel cornered into a bit of honesty. it might help the mission. it might make you think before you speak.”

Life would be easier if my friends weren’t so smart.

Next chapter

Tag List: If you’d like to be tagged, send me a(n) ask/message or reply to this post!

*Notice: If you reply, I may not respond back; if you need/want confirmation, send me an ask/message instead :)

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine

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knifefather · 4 years ago

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➼ Title: Tutor Me, Chapter 4 ➼ Pairing: Diego Brando/Reader, Johnny Joestar/Reader ➼ Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure ➼ Word Count: 3.8k ➼ Rating: Explicit, 18+ ➼ Contains: Chubby AFAB!Reader, college AU, angst, and sexy fantasies! This is the fourth chapter of this work!

ミ★ View this on ao3! ★彡

ミ★ Twitter | Ko-Fi | Commissions Info ★彡

Preview

After finishing giving Johnny an explanation of the question he was working on, the blond took a minute to gaze at you. “I didn’t know that you were this studious. Maybe you should start tutoring me instead of Diego. Lord knows that I need the help more than him,” Johnny joked with an edge of seriousness in his voice, motioning to the red pen on his page where you marked questions wrong.

His comment hit you like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, your mind was swarmed with ideas of you and Johnny having the same kind of study sessions that you and Diego did.

Before the lewd thoughts could escalate any further, you blinked them away, closing your gaping mouth. You had to get it together before he began to suspect anything. Johnny was grinning at his words, and you stuttered your way through a response. “I-I don’t know, I’ll have to see what I have going on…” you replied, trying to brush it off as best as you could.

He laughed at you playfully. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Monday couldn’t come fast enough. You were elated to take Diego up on his promise that you both would study after school. Though it was unlikely that you would have sex again, part of you hoped that he would make another move on you during your session. Even if it wasn’t a sexual advance, you wanted some sort of hint that perhaps he was having the same feelings you were. The blooming feelings in your bosom were hard to place, but you knew that at this point, you viewed him as more than your classmate. More than just a friend, even. Diego was special to you and you were excited to see him again.

The flow of your thoughts was interrupted at the sound of Dr. Kujo clearing his throat and addressing the class.” Everyone, take your seats now. Class is beginning.” Most of the students were aware that Dr. Kujo ran a tight ship, and everyone promptly quieted and settled down. After a few minutes of the class being in session, your brows came together in worry as you realized that Diego wasn’t in the room. That’s okay. He’s late. He’s always late, but he shows up eventually… you thought to yourself, nervously tapping your pencil against the desk. That much was true. And when he did show up, he always made a scene and was incredibly loud about entering the class. Usually, Dr. Kujo didn’t take his buffoonery kindly and sternly told him to shut up and take a seat.

But that didn’t take place. Your professor instructed the class to take out their textbooks and flip to a specific page, but you weren’t paying attention to which page. A pit of worry formed in your stomach as you realized that Diego wouldn’t be coming to class today. You had mixed thoughts about this: you were worried that he was going to fall even further behind in class, but you were also disappointed that the chance of you studying with him after school was slim. You thought about shooting him a text when you got out of class, and you pondered it for the rest of the lesson. Knowing that you would more than likely be tutoring Diego on this information, too, you made sure to pay extra close attention and take more detailed notes than usual. Even without Diego, the world continued to spin, and your day proceeded as normal.

★・・・・・・★

It’s time for lunch and still no sign of your classmate. You took your usual seat at a lunch table by yourself, sitting your tray on the table. The pit in your stomach earlier scared away your appetite, so instead, you opted to crack open the book that you had been reading. Pulling it from your bag, a sigh escaped you before you began to read once more.

In the novel, the blond hunter is fighting the dark prince for his life while the protagonist is frozen in fear. She snaps out of it when the hunter takes a hard blow to the face. Using her quick thinking, she attacks the dark prince and allows the blond hunter to get a good shot in. However, the prince is meaner, more quick and fierce, and throws off the protagonist before promising her a dark punishment. He badly injures the hunter, who has no choice but to retreat, leaving the protagonist alone. The villain leans down close to her and whispers in her ear the promise of all the ways he will destroy her.

Normally, you would find this much more captivating, especially the suggestive bits, but it did little to arouse you. The book’s contents just made your sour mood grow sourer. As you sat and read, you found yourself feeling disappointed yet again. You weren’t interrupted by Diego like you had become accustomed to. You missed having him around. To keep your mind off of it, you read the book until your next class. By the time you arrived in the classroom, you had a massive headache.

★・・・・・・★

Four o’clock had rolled around and all of your classes were out for the day. Though you knew that it was improbable that Diego wouldn’t show up to the library, you went anyway. You walked into the building, several students still working inside. It was more lively than you were used to, that was for sure. The past few times that you had visited the library, it had been desolate sans you and Diego. You tried to shake those thoughts from your head. Quietly, you sat at a table off in the corner, alone, and waited.

Removing your textbook from your bag, you huffed and opened it up to the first few chapters that you had tried in vain to cover with Diego. This time, you printed out the textbook pages for him, so you wouldn’t be tempted if he read over your shoulder. While you waited, you decided to read more of your book since you had nothing better to do. With an air of sadness, you brought your book from your bag and continued from where you left off during lunch.

The plot of the book only grew darker as you read on. The protagonist has been thrown into a pit of despair, hopelessness grasping her. The dark prince kept her locked away in the cellar, the only light illuminating the space was the light of the moon through the bars of the window. Despite her depression, the protagonist still holds out hope that the hunter would come to save her. Countless times, the dark prince made his way down the cellar, promising her freedom if she would agree to be his queen. She declined every time, knowing that she was strong enough to resist the temptation. There is still no sign of the hunter anywhere. At this point in the story, it seems as though all hope has been lost.

A sharp ping! sound distracted you from the plot of the novel. With a jolt, you looked over at your phone, the screen lit up. First, you scolded yourself for leaving your ringer on while you were in the library and quickly switched your phone to silent. Next, you checked who the offending message was from.

Diego.

Your heart skipped several beats, making you feel as though you got the wind knocked out of you. Greedily, you opened the message and read what he had to say.

Diego 4:29 pm Hey. Just wanted to let you know I’m not gonna be there tonight.

The thundering of your heartbeat stuttered to a halt. The warm, giddy feeling that filled you before fell away to coldness. The disappointment formed an icy ball in your stomach. You could feel your frame drooping involuntarily. Though, you were curious as to if he was okay, and decided to ask him just that.

You 4:29 pm Hi. That’s okay. Where were you today? Are you doing alright?

Diego 4:31 pm You’re really good at asking too many questions

Diego 4:33 pm But if you must know, I’m training for the tournament. Losing is not an option.

Diego told you that you asked too many questions when you were in the car with him on Saturday. It was when you tried to ask him about his family. Perhaps you struck a nerve? You tried to steer the conversation away from something that was going to make him uncomfortable.

You 4:34 pm Sorry about that.

You 4:36 pm Your grade is going to drop if you don’t study :/

Diego 4:37 pm I don’t care. Winning is more important than a study session

Ouch. That really hurt, not going to lie. You wanted to take what Diego said at surface level and not read into it more than needed and hurt your own feelings. However, the thoughts came anyhow. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe his grades weren’t the only thing that wasn’t important besides winning. Unable to think of what to say in response, you left his message on ‘read’ and stowed your phone. The small device burned a hole in your pocket, your fingers itching to ask him more, but you leave it be. You don’t want to push him further away.

At that moment, you realized that you didn’t have much business in the library if you’re not going to be tutoring Diego. You paid attention in class and took all of the notes, and Dr. Kujo was merciful and decided not to assign homework, so you didn’t have to worry much about Marine Biology. Most of your homework was caught up in your other classes, too. With a heavy sigh, you began to pack up your books and leave.

Defeat settled over you as you walked out onto the sidewalk. You were intent on returning to the dorms until you saw two familiar faces that were about to enter the library. They saw you too, and both of the young men called out to you. Johnny and Gyro were both carrying books, looking like they were getting ready for an intense study sesh. “Hey, y/n! Good to see you here,” Johnny greeted, giving you a large, blue smile. His smile was crooked, but it was endearing and made you smile as well. His face fell a bit when he noticed the expression on your face. Gyro noticed as well, but he stayed quiet. “You don’t look so good. Are you okay?” Johnny asked, giving you a concerned look. They didn’t know about what was going on between you and Diego, and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you needed was to lose your friendship with Johnny and Gyro.

“Yeah, I’m okay! What are you guys doing here?” you asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Studying for an upcoming anthropology exam. It’s supposed to be our hardest test yet,” Gyro said, motioning to the stack of books on Johnny’s lap.

Johnny gave an “mhm” and nodded along. “You know, you should come study with us! Or are you on your way out?” Johnny questioned, reaching out to touch your arm gently. You had to fight the blush that was rising to your cheeks as your classmate made contact with you. Gyro stiffened at his gesture, giving you an apprehensive look as you decided on whether or not to join them. Despite the weird look from Gyro, you figured that maybe you could find something to work on in the library after all. The Intro to Humanities notes you took earlier in the day wasn’t very legible because your teacher was talking a million miles a minute. Maybe you’ll rewrite those notes and sit with your friends.

“Actually… I can stay. There’s some stuff that I still need to work on,” you said, much to Johnny’s pleasure.

“Then what are we waiting for? Gyro, can you get the door?” Johnny asked, looking expectantly at his tall friend. Quietly, Gyro opened the door for the both of you, and you all entered the library.

It turns out that you remembered a bit of anthropology from high school. You were able to help Gyro and Johnny study, forgetting about rewriting your notes in favor of helping them. They were both progressing very well through the material, but Gyro moreso than Johnny. It seemed like the man had more of a knack for it, you supposed. After finishing giving Johnny an explanation of the question he was working on, the blond took a minute to gaze at you. “I didn’t know that you were this studious. Maybe you should start tutoring me instead of Diego. Lord knows that I need the help more than him,” Johnny joked with an edge of seriousness in his voice, motioning to the red pen on his page where you marked questions wrong.

His comment hit you like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, your mind was swarmed with ideas of you and Johnny having the same kind of study sessions that you and Diego did.

You envisioned yourself in the library with Johnny instead, alone, the lights dim. You were bouncing on his lap, your dress hiked up while he guided your hips back down to his waist, his callused hands gripping you tight. His blond hair was a mess on his shoulders, his beanie askew while he grabbed you. Blue eyes moved over your form greedily, looking at you as though you were good enough to eat. His cock was piercing you in the most delicious way, angling right into your favorite spot. In your mind's eye, you grabbed his shoulders tighter as he thrust into you.

Johnny’s mouth was open, moaning salacious things to you, that Kentucky twang prominent in his voice. “Come on darlin’, that’s it, move against me,” he moaned in your fantasy, breathing heavily while he rutted into you. “That’s my good girl, take my cock…”

Before the lewd thoughts could escalate any further, you blinked the them, closing your gaping mouth. You had to get it together before he began to suspect anything. Johnny was grinning at his words, and you stuttered your way through a response. “I-I don’t know, I’ll have to see what I have going on…” you replied, trying to brush it off as best as you could.

He laughed at you playfully. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You didn’t miss the way that Gyro’s lips pressed into a thin line. The Italian man played it cool, though, and laughed along half-heartedly with Johnny.

The rest of the study session was nice, and you left with Johnny and Gyro after about an hour or so. The two of them had to practice for the upcoming tournament after studying, so you parted ways with them and headed back to your dorm. While you were walking, you couldn’t shake a certain feeling that was blossoming in your chest. What if you took Johnny up on his invitation to tutoring him? Could you possibly have the same relationship with him that you do with Diego? Or maybe you’re reading his signals wrong? All of the possibilities were present in your mind, and you weren’t sure what to think. On one hand, Johnny was interested in you and would pay you more mind than Diego. However, Diego was the man that you lost your virginity to. And for some reason, you felt a bond with him that you can’t quite shake. You knew in your heart that the events that took place over the weekend changed everything between you and Diego, and that is an unchangeable fact.

The subject weighed heavily on your mind until you reached your dorm room. Hot Pants was there, getting ready to head down to the track. In the middle of putting on her equestrian helmet, she turned and greeted you politely. Chatting with her made your complex thoughts dissipate. Bantering with her was simple, easy. Even though you haven’t known her for very long, you were grateful for her and her ability to keep you from overthinking. She went to practice afterward and you were sad to see her go, now left alone with your deafening thoughts.

★・・・・・・★

It’s almost here, and that thought filled you with dread. It’s Friday, and the tournament is tomorrow. The school week had been rough on your mentality, and you barely saw Diego at all. You caught brief glimpses of him in the halls at school, but he never spared you a glance and always looked straight ahead. It fucked with your emotions, making your already challenging school experience even more difficult to get through. Even though you saw him in the halls, you never saw him in class, and part of you was convinced that he dropped the course. He hadn’t reached out to you since Monday. You thought about texting him first, but you didn’t want to be met with the same cold detachment that he exuded last time. Weirdly, that would have felt worse than being ignored.

Hot Pants, Johnny, and Gyro helped nurse your heartbreak without even realizing how much they were helping. You were beyond grateful for them. In between classes and practicing for the tournament, the four of you hung out almost every opportunity that you could get. The pleasant, budding feelings that you had blooming for Johnny were also a nice distraction from Diego’s absence. Even then, you shouldn’t shake the feeling of loss that tainted your every happy interaction. It felt as if you were going crazy and being with your friends was the only thing that reminded you of saner times.

Hot Pants sat on the edge of your bed in your dorm room, watching one of the newest Netflix dramas that released just that night. The two of you hung out and watched the show while scrolling through your phones periodically, sitting in comfortable silence for the most part. It was nice, relaxing, and definitely what you needed to shake your anxiety.

She knew about everything that happened between you and Diego. The fact that you were quieter when the boys weren’t around tipped her off. One night after class, the pink-haired woman cornered you in the room and asked you about what the hell was going on with you. You spilled everything to her, nearly crying while you went into the details. The crying wasn’t only out of the emotional pain, but also at how embarrassing it was to confess something like that to her. Surprisingly, Hot Pants accepted you and was supportive after you shared your story. While she didn’t have much advice to give, over the following days she was more gentle with you than usual. She would never know how much you appreciated her no matter how many times you told her.

While sitting on the bed, your phone buzzed beside you. Cocking your brow, you picked up the device and saw the message was from Johnny. This was a normal occurrence, but still, it brought a smile to your face when you opened it up.

Johnny 8:21 pm Hey you! <3 I wanted to shoot you a text and see if you’d be coming to the race this weekend?

Johnny 8:23 pm I would love to see you there!

Johnny 8:24 pm You can finally see what all of this practicing has been about ;)

A chuckle rippled through you before beginning to shoot back a reply. However, you hesitated, your fingers slowing. If you accepted the invitation, it is almost certain that you would see Diego at the race. Knowing him, he’d be swarmed by paparazzi and adoring fans, and that was not something that you could handle seeing right now. Though, the question that lingered in your mind was this: What was more important? Supporting the friends that had supported you, or keeping your distance from Diego? After a brief moment of consideration, the answer was clear to you. You texted Johnny back with a look of determination on your face.

You 8:27 pm Hi!! I would love to see you perform at the tournament! I know it’ll be a ton of fun :)

Johnny 8:28 pm Absolutely! I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me after the race.

Johnny 8:29 pm Without HP and Gyro, I mean. Just the two of us.

The bulbs of your cheeks were ablaze at the message you just received. Your eyes darted back and forth between the words several times, unable to believe what you read. Hot Pants gave you the side-eye and paused the show. “What’s up with you?” she asked, cocking a pink eyebrow.

You fumbled on your words for a minute before you were able to tell her about what Johnny just asked you. “I think that you should say yes,” Hot Pants said, giving you a steady look. You met her gaze. She understood the reasons why you were thinking about saying no, and yet she encouraged you.

“I think you’re right.”

You 8:32 pm I’m not sure if I can! I have some homework I need to get done before the weekend is up. Maybe if I can finish it I’ll come with you.

Johnny 8:33 pm No problem. Just let me know.

Johnny 8:34 pm Can’t wait to see you there, y/n

You 8:35 pm You too!! <3

A thundering sound was filling your ears as you finished your conversation with Johnny. It was hard to believe that Johnny had asked you out, but here you were, being properly asked out. Now more than ever, you were unsure about your feelings. You had to get some kind of closure for whatever has been going on between you and Diego. Given the time of night, he was probably out of practice and able to use his phone. Already having your messenger app open, you try to reach out to him.

You 8:39 pm Hi there. I just wanted to shoot you a message and say good luck at the tournament tomorrow! I was wondering if I’d be able to talk to you after the race?

For a few minutes, you waited. A response didn’t come. It read “Delivered” so you know a technical error wasn’t the case. Perhaps he’s busy? I’ll probably hear from him tomorrow, you thought to yourself, shrugging. But then you noticed that the “Delivered” line changed to something else.

“Read at 8:52 pm”

By then, Hot Pants had unpaused the program, the episode continuing. Tuning back into the show, you forgot about the message for quite some time. The both of you watched three more episodes, intending to binge the series in one go. The show seemed like it was going to be a typical cliché original, but it was turning out to be pretty entertaining. At some point, Hot Pants left to go use the restroom, and you took the opportunity to see if Diego texted you back.

Nothing.

The only thing that you were met with was the same “Read at 8:52 pm” that you had seen an hour ago.

He left you on read just as you had done to him on Monday. Honestly, you were upset, but you realized that it was fair. Brows furrowed, you locked your phone before sighing deeply. Something had to give, the situation had to change. With that in mind, you formulated a plan.

After the race, you were going to approach Diego when he was alone and ask him about what was going on. You wanted to keep it as private as possible. If he told you to leave him alone, you would drop it and move on with your life. But you couldn’t give up without trying at least once. With this in mind, you were granted some relief. Hot Pants came back into the room and you continued to binge the show, but the plot was the furthest thing from your mind.

#yall its here!!#sorry it took so long omg #diego brando x reader #johnny joestar x reader #not sfw #tutor me #my work #backup #steel ball run

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songsformonkeys · 4 years ago

Text

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 4

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.

Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.

Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Your hands were shaking from exhaustion where they rested in your lap, clutching the bloody face mask you had been wearing for the past several hours. Your scrubs looked like a failed tie-dye experiment in light blue and red and the light in the room was unforgivingly bright, illuminating the aftermath of the surgery in stark detail.

They had wheeled Whiskey out of here about half an hour ago if your sense of time was still reliable. As soon as he and the others were out of the room, you had slumped down onto a chair and you hadn't been able to get up since then.

The pilot had said that Whiskey was stable on the way back but there was a reason you were the medical expert in this operation and not him because stable wasn't the adjective you would have used. Sure, you had been fairly confident that he wouldn't die, but that confidence had been more due to faith in your skills rather than a lack of severity in Whiskey's condition. Multiple stab wounds to his right thigh, his right arm, and a particularly nasty one in his side, as well as a broken leg, broken pinky finger, a cut across the bridge of his nose, and bruising that was out of this world. The pilot had said that Whiskey had fallen out a window and the bloody mess that had been placed in front of you made you believe that. The detail that, surprisingly, had been the most jarring was the fact that Whiskey hadn't been wearing his hat. His head had looked small and vulnerable without it and you had reached out to stroke it before you'd had time to process what you were doing. The others had definitely noticed but neither of them had said anything.

If it had been anyone but Whiskey on that table you would have gotten a thrill from the challenge of putting them back together (another thing Tonic had forbidden you from saying out loud) but, when it was him, the urgency of your movements was instead driven by fear. It was something you weren't familiar with. The fear that you would make a mistake and that you wouldn't be able to save him messed with your head and, more than once, you had to physically shake your head to get the thoughts to stop pestering you. One of your assistants, you couldn't remember who since you had been so focused on Whiskey, had offered to switch with you. She was probably worried that your friendship with the patient would affect your performance. You had refused. You were the one best equipped at handling this and if Whiskey were to die, he would die by your hand. Only then would you have been able to accept that everything had been done that could be done to save him.

Luckily, Whiskey hadn't died. It had taken hours but in the end, you had managed to patch him up and when you declared him stable it was actually the truth. It would still be hours before he woke up and when he did, he would no doubt be in a lot of pain but the immediate danger was over. Whiskey would live and you could relax. Or collapse, depending on whom you asked.

Your legs felt like lead, your mouth was dry and you could feel a massive headache building behind your eyes. You should go back to your apartment, get some sleep before Whiskey woke up, but it was as if your body had stopped cooperating. It didn't worry you. You were sure you would regain control over your body at some point, preferably sooner rather than later.

Another 20 minutes passed without any luck in that department but you never got to find out just how much longer it would have taken because, once those 20 minutes had passed, the door opened. You turned and saw Tonic standing there. He looked at you and then at the state of the rest of the room.

“Whatcha doing here, Moonshine?” he asked a little hesitantly as he stepped into the room.

“My legs don't work,” you replied stupidly. And inaccurately. Your legs worked just fine, you just weren't in control of them at the moment. It was a purely psychological thing which, as luck would have it, was Tonic's field of expertise.

“I'm not surprised,” he said, “You've been down here for hours. I hear Agent Whiskey owes you one hell of a thank you when he wakes up.”

You shrugged as Tonic gently pried the face mask from your hands and tossed it in a trashcan. You began protesting that the trashcan wasn't the place to dispose of the bloody mask but Tonic calmly hushed you.

“The assistants are waiting just outside the door for you to leave so they can clean this place up properly.”

You looked towards the door with a look of confusion.

“Why didn't they come inside?” you asked. Tonic gave you a slightly awkward smile.

“They were...worried about you,” he settled for and you didn't have the energy to question him for further details right now. He held a hand out and as you took it, he pulled you to your feet. Your legs felt surprisingly stable and normal and you shifted a little from foot to foot.

“Let's go get you cleaned up,” Tonic said and you nodded, following him outside.

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

Sitting still at a sick or hurt person's bedside had never been your thing. You'd watched families and friends do it, and the gesture of just sitting there and maybe holding their loved one's hand had always seemed to bring them comfort and calm. It wasn't entirely clear why. The act probably wouldn't do much to increase the chances of survival of the person they cared for. Although, you supposed it probably wouldn't make it worse either.

You had never sat at someone's bedside that way. Hadn't known anyone who got sick or hurt enough to end up in a hospital. With your parents, they had been gone too quickly for there to even be a trip to the hospital. Every other sick or hurt person you had seen had been your patient, which meant there had been plenty more useful things for you to do than sit by their bed and pet them.

With Whiskey, the lines were...blurred. He was your patient but he was also your friend. And the knot of worry in your belly just kept growing, even though you knew the surgery had gone well. So when you entered his room and found him sleeping in his hospital bed, hooked up to a whole array of medical equipment, you figured that maybe it was worth a try just to see what all the fuss was about.

You dragged a chair over to his side, sat down and took his hand, just like you'd seen others do. But almost immediately you noticed that it didn't feel right. It felt weird. Whiskey's hand was warm and it felt strong even in his unconscious state. Under different circumstances, it wouldn't have been an unpleasant hand to hold. But now, the hand was way too still in your grip and the lack of jokes and flirty remarks was a clear reminder that something was wrong. There was no way Whiskey would have let you hold his hand like this without teasing you mercilessly about it.

For five minutes, you sat there, waiting for the sense of calm and comfort to kick in. All it did was make you go over, in your mind, all the things that could have gone wrong with the surgery, all the ways Whiskey could have died. It made your chest hurt and after five minutes you couldn't take it anymore. So you stood up and instead busied yourself with checking every single one of Whiskey's vitals on the monitors, the IV drip, the bandaids covering his stitches. This was you in your element and as you noted that everything seemed fine, the calm you had been longing for finally began to creep in. It was mingled with pride over the excellent job your colleagues had done.

“You're in good hands,” you smiled and told Whiskey, absent-mindedly, as if you expected a response. When it didn't come, your smile dimmed a little and you went back to check the monitors.

You had been told that he would wake up soon. That the anesthetics should be wearing off within the next half an hour. You didn't want to leave before then. Didn't want Whiskey to have to be alone when he woke up.

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

It took another twenty minutes before he did, during which time you'd tinkered with the medical equipment, smoothed out his blanket several times, and tried a second time to hold his hand, with the exact same result as last time.

The almost inaudible groan from the bed, when he finally came to, caught your attention instantly and you watched the way Whiskey's pulse sped up slightly on the monitor before you moved to his side where he would be able to see you.

You waited, holding your breath, for several seconds before Whiskey slowly blinked his eyes open. His gaze moved aimlessly around the room before finally landing on you, although there were no signs of recognition so it was unclear how much of what he was seeing that were actually registering. He opened his mouth and tried to speak but only a soft wheezing noise came out. He closed his eyes and you moved closer, wanting to tell him not to go back to sleep again. He looked so pale and it scared you.

When Whiskey opened his eyes for a second time, his eyes found yours again. He opened his mouth again to speak and this time he managed to get a single word out, though it was barely more than a whisper.

“Angel.”

You felt yourself pale as fear gripped you like an icy fist. Angels? Why was Whiskey seeing angels? Was something wrong? You'd looked at the monitors only a moment ago and everything had been fine. Was there something you were missing?

“W-what?” you asked, eyes wide and afraid. Whiskey looked at you and he must have seen your fear because a second later his eyes widened too. He opened his mouth and made a noise that sounded like a pained grunt. For a second you were at a complete loss at what you do. Whiskey was dying and seeing angels but you were monitoring everything going on in his body and there was nothing wrong. Broken bones and stitches, sure but there was nothing that should be killing him right this second.

Whiskey made the same sound again and then a third time before you realized that they weren't just grunts but him trying to speak. You leaned closer.

“Youu,” Whiskey wheezed.

“Me? Me what?” you asked and you could have sworn to God that Whiskey actually rolled his eyes at that.

“Angel,” he forced out and it took you a moment to realize. When you did, you dropped into the chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut and, with a relieved sigh, you leaned forward to rest your face against the mattress of his bed.

“Don't scare me like that,” you mumbled into the sheets, unsure if Whiskey would even hear you. He might have because you felt fingers move next to your face before the pad of one of Whiskey's fingers touched your left temple. Maybe you were just imagining but the touch felt like an apology. You stayed still for a little bit, letting Whiskey gently stroke the inch of skin which he could reach. It felt nice.

After a short while, Whiskey's finger stilled. When you turned your head slightly to look at him, his eyes were closed again but there was a small smile on his face.

You snuck out, as quietly as possible, not to wake him up.

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

“Hiya! How's Whiskey?” Tequila asked as you entered the office next to Harry's cell. You threw a glance at the one-way mirror and saw Harry sitting cross-legged on his bed, scribbling something into a notebook.

“He's...as good as can be expected... considering...” you told him and Tequila looked relieved. You knew the two agents had worked together on several missions and despite them bickering like an old married couple it was obvious to everyone that they cared for each other. “Give him a day or so to wake up a bit more and then you can go see him if you like,” you added and Tequila shrugged.

“We'll see,” he said, “Don't want him to think I miss him too much. Besides, I quite enjoy the peace and quiet around here without his constant hurrying about.”

It was a lie and you both knew it. Besides, the base had been anything but peaceful and quiet for the past two days. You and Tequila had been spared since you were both otherwise occupied, with Whiskey and Harry respectively, but the rest of the base was in a state of organized chaos trying to make sense of the sudden surge of violence all over the world yesterday. There were a couple of other agents who'd also been hurt yesterday but those injuries had been minor enough that they either had taken care of them by themselves or they'd been taken care of by the rest of the medical team once they got back. Whiskey seemed to be the only one from the Statesmen who'd suffered any severe damage, although the death toll among the civilians were staggering.

The agents that had been out on missions when the violence happened all had similar stories of what had gone down. They described that it had been as if a sudden rage had taken control over them and they had been powerless to stop it, hadn't even wanted to stop it. Then, just as suddenly as it had flared up, the rage had disappeared and it had only been then that the agents had realized the consequences of their actions. A couple of them had killed civilians. Two of them had tried killing each other but luckily neither had managed. Tonic had set up shop in Champs office all day to gather as much information as possible about what had gone down. You did not doubt that Whiskey would be put through the same questioning as soon as he was well enough to talk.

No one had any clue why the violence had happened but Ginger was confident that it had something to do with the extreme low-frequency signal she had picked up before bringing Harry in. Speaking of. You nodded in Harry's direction.

“What is he doing?” you asked. Tequila turned to look as well before he answered.

“Drawing, I think,” he said with an almost soft smile in Harry's direction, “He asked for some pen n' paper earlier and I figured there wouldn't be any harm in giving him that.”

“So Tonic has cleared him for handling sharp objects then?” you asked a little curiously and Tequila paled and stuttered. You held your hands up in a calming gesture.

“I'm sure it's fine. If I were him, I would want to figure out where I was before killing myself or anyone else.”

Tequila didn't look at all comforted by this.

“All the same, we should probably...” he said and got up from his chair while gesturing vaguely towards Harry's cell. You nodded.

“He's due for his medical check-up anyway.”

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

The check-up went quick and painless. Harry sat patiently on the edge of his bed while you examined the healing wound under his eye patch and at the back of his head. All was looking good and healing properly. You asked him about any pain, loss of motor function, or if he had noticed anything strange or painful besides the memory loss. Harry shook his head and said that besides not having any memories from half of his life, everything was just fine. You noted the tone of sarcasm in his voice and gave him an apologetic smile.

As you examined Harry, Tequila tried to stealthily smuggle the pen into his back pocket. It wasn't something you or Harry noticed as he was doing it but it became obvious once the examination was done and Harry turned to pick up his notebook again.

“My pen,” he said, looking at the floor around the table, “It must have rolled off...Do either of you see it?”

You shook your head in mock confusion but Tequila immediately folded and blurted out his confession.

“I took it!” he admitted.

“Oh?” Harry said, confused. You looked at Tequila with a raised eyebrow. You did know for a fact that they let this man out on undercover missions, and that he almost always came back successful, but after the display you had just witnessed you definitely began to wonder just how he managed that if this was him under pressure to lie.

“I'm sorry, sir,” Tequila said, straightening his back, “I know I said you could have it but then my colleague here reminded me that we don't want you to hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself? On a pen?” Harry asked with a frown before he let out another “Oh...” he cleared his throat and looked between you and Tequila.

“Mister...Tequila, miss...Moonshine. Let me assure you that I am in no danger of hurting myself. It seemed I've cheated death once already, for which I am very grateful. Now I simply wish to get well enough that you would allow me to go home...as soon as we figure out where that is.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tequila begin to reach for his back pocket so you quickly spoke.

“I'm sorry, Harry. It's just the protocol. But I'll try and have To...Tom come by later to talk to you about having some pens in here.”

Harry looked a little disappointed but he nodded and resigned to a penless afternoon.

You and Tequila stuck around a bit longer to talk to Harry. You found out that what he had been drawing in the notebook were butterflies. He told you that it calmed him. Tequila looked at the drawings with something akin to awe and declared Harry a proper artist. You and Harry laughed at the young agent's excitement.

When you and Tequila eventually had to leave, you both felt a little bad but Harry assured you that it was okay. He had books to read until Tonic/Tom got there.

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

You swung by Whiskey's room on the way back to your office to write today's report. He was sleeping again so you only stayed a couple of minutes to check on him. Before you left, you stopped at his bedside and reached out to stroke a lock of dark hair from his forehead. Checking for a fever, you told yourself, even though you had his exact temperature on a screen to your left.

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

Over the next few days, things calmed down on several fronts.

Tequila and Tonic took turns keeping Harry company. The Englishman had been cleared to get his pens back and spent most of his days drawing. Harry was a sweet and caring man and the more time either of you spent with him, the harder it was to believe that he was actually intelligence. Every time the door opened to his cell, Harry started and then apologized for being startled. He was a proper English gentleman. One day you had walked into the office next to the cell, only to find it empty, and as you looked into Harry's cell through the mirror, and saw Harry in the middle of teaching Tequila how to properly make tea. The younger agent had looked deeply concentrated.

The agency still wasn't sure about the motive behind the violent attacks all around the globe but Ginger had managed to trace the source of the extreme low-frequency waves to peoples' cellphones and a couple of days later news reached the world that billionaire Richmond Valentine had passed away. The exact cause of death wasn't revealed but the timing of it all was highly suspicious.

The Statesmen had also sent several people from the medical department out to assist at various hospitals, that were now filled to the brim with people hurt in the attacks. Only you and two others of the medics stayed behind, in case of an emergency and to care for Whiskey.

Whiskey was slowly but steadily getting better by the day. He was still weak and, even though he refused to admit it when anyone besides you were in the room, he was in a lot of pain. You spent more time with him than strictly needed, from a medical point of view, but both of you enjoyed the company.

Whiskey had no memory of what had happened but he found the anecdote about him scaring you with the angel comment highly amusing and laughed out loud, before promptly doubling over in pain and turning pale as a sheet. You kept the amusing anecdotes to a minimum after that.

Tonic came in to question him about what had happened during the attack. Whiskey's story was similar to the others. He explained that he had been fine when he was alone in the room and talking to you, but as soon as the other man had gotten in through the door the rage had consumed Whiskey too and they had fought in the room, outside the room, running down several flights of stairs before Whiskey had managed to overtake him. Whiskey hadn't noticed the other man who came running at him with a knife before it was too late and he'd been stabbed and thrown out the window. After that, he didn't remember much.

Tonic had written it all down before disappearing again. When he left, Whiskey slumped down on the bed with a pained sigh. Without him asking, you gave him some painkillers.

“Thank you, angel,” he whispered.

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

A couple of weeks later you walked into Whiskey's hospital room only to stop dead in your tracks as soon as you crossed the threshold. The bed was empty. You looked around the room, even though there were no places in the room to hide.

Frowning, you hurried back outside and found Vermouth by one of the computers in the other room.

“Whiskey's room is empty!” you said a little too loudly and she jumped before realizing it was you.

“Yes,” she said, “He left two hours ago and...Boss, I know you know what you're doing but should he really be up and out of the hospital already?”

You blinked, confused by the sudden incompetence in your otherwise very skilled colleague.

“What? No, of course, he shouldn't! Why would you even let him leave?”

Now Vermouth looked equally confused.

“But he said you'd given him permission to go home for the day. Hell, he even had a signed note from you.”

The two of you looked at each other as the puzzle pieces began falling into place.

Fucking Whiskey!

“If I murder him,” you began, “Will you help me bury the body where Champ won't find it?”

Vermouth nodded, trying to keep a straight face and not smile.

“Of course, Boss. And if we can't find a good digging spot, might I suggest hiding him in one of the old liquor barrels?”

“Excellent idea! I'll call you when I find him.”

“Good luck!” Vermouth called after you as you left the office.

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

You banged hard on the door of the apartment before taking a step back and crossing your arms over your chest. It took almost two minutes before you heard the lock click open and you had just begun to entertain the thought of kicking the door in when Whiskey opened. He was still wearing the medical department's gray sweatpants, with one leg cut off to fit over the cast, but had somehow managed to wrangle himself out of the gray sweatshirt and into a white t-shirt with a red and gray plaid button-down shirt over. His Stetson was perched atop his head for the first time since he'd been injured. It was pushed back slightly to reveal more of his pale and tired face. There were circles under his eyes so dark they were almost purple and a slight stubble was unevenly sprinkled across his normally so clean-shaven jaw. He looked about two seconds away from toppling over.

“Moonshine...” he said a little hesitantly, probably noticing the expression on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded to know.

“I live here,” Whiskey replied and you honest-to-god stomped your foot in frustration. Whiskey noticed and raised an eyebrow. A smile began to form on his lips but then he met your angry gaze and he instead adopted a more somber expression.

“Why are you not in your hospital room?” you continued, “Vermouth said you told her I gave you permission to go home. You even faked a note?”

“Darlin', relax. I feel fine. I don't need to...”

“Really? And what degree in medicine makes you qualified to make that judgment?” you snapped, “Because last time I, your doctor, checked you had just broken several bones, been stabbed even more times and the wound in your side is still held together mostly by sheer will-power. So I wouldn't say you're fine.”

Whiskey's jaw clenched slightly. He was annoyed with you, which was just as well because you were furious with him and his recklessness.

“I don't like being cooped up,” Whiskey shot back, crossing his own arms over his chest and only swaying a little as he let go of the support of the doorframe.

“And I don't like it when you're hurt!”

Whiskey's expression instantly softened.

“Moonshine...” he began.

“Don't Moonshine me right now! I didn't spend hours stitching you up just so you could go out and tear those stab wounds open again. It's a miracle that stab to your side didn't hit anything vital.“

Whiskey opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him before he could get anything out.

“You almost died!...and I was really worried.”

Any trace of annoyance was long gone from Whiskey's face. Instead, there was a softness and almost sadness in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized and you held your arms crossed in front of you.

“Yeah well...you should be,” you said, feeling a little calmer now that he'd admitted that you were right, “You're not well enough to be out yet.”

Whiskey pursed his lips and then he sighed.

“Alright, darlin'. Let me just turn off the TV and then I'm all yours.”

#whiskey/reader #whiskeyxreader #agent whiskey #kingsman golden circle fanfiction #kingsman golden circle #female reader #my fanfiction

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theclearwaters · 3 years ago

Note

I’m deadass intrigued by your entire writing process so for the writing ask (https://theclearwaters.tumblr.com/post/661590088067776512/send-an-ask-get-to-know-your-author)…. 1-25 if u have time? -teamjacobthot

Always time for my fave <3

(Disclaimer: Story of my life, I didn't proof read a damn thing.)

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

Whew. Recently I’d been holding off writing anything for Between Who You Are for a lot of reasons: generally feeling rubbish, home life, work life, but there were times when I’d pull my shit together for five minutes and open up my drafts and just not be able to pump anything out (or even do any editing) because of the reactions I was getting. I always kind of assumed that if people didn’t like what they were reading then they would just mark it as DNF, but some were carrying on regardless and sending messages/leaving comments and reviews that went beyond constructive criticism. And I just didn’t want to subject myself to that, and it obviously stopped me from enjoying it. Then I did a few collabs with one of my best mates (Hyacinthed, who is an a m a z i n g author and editor, go check her out and give her all the love for being just about the only Leah/Quil shipper in the world) and she also offered to beta a few chapters of BWYA. She even said she'll ghost write a few chapters, which just blows my mind. That, and really kind comments from other readers has definitely helped get my mojo back.

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

Probably fics from when I was deeeeeeep in my Merlin phase about 10 years ago. I ignore them on FFn and I’ve moved them to another pseud on AO3 :’)

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

Usually ‘front to back’ but I often have a side-doc running for jotting down scenes that hit me out the blue. The ‘scenes/outtakes/archive’ doc I have for BWYA is leaning slightly on the diabolical side, currently standing at around 12k. Half of that will probably never see the light of day.

4) favorite character you’ve written

L E A H M F K N C L E A R W A T E R

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

Sam, probably. I dislike him/her in both universes but their POV makes for great angst, and the reviews/comments that result from their chapters is always entertaining when people get out the pitchforks.

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

In terms of writing style, nothing much because it’s all been a massive learning curve. But if we’re talking about within a story, probably the way I began BWYA because it gives me such a headache sometimes. I’d probably stop myself from committing to the canon timeline and would have long since finished it by now!

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

Not so much embarrassed, and far from enthusiastic, but only a handful of people know. My mum knows but has no idea what any of it is about (she just calls it “your stories”, but is still super supportive) and the majority of other people who know are friends I don’t get to see too often and/or who write too.

8) favorite genre to write

Angst angst angst angst angst

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

Reading!

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

Mostly background noise, like the telly or music. Sometimes people are around, but usually alone.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

Actually following a plotline/structuring things and taking notes. Years back (in the Merlin phase) I used to be all over the place and would stick random scenes in that I thought were cute and fluffy, but really they were there for my own entertainment and added nothing to the story at all. Probably lost me more than a few readers along the way.

12) your weaknesses as an author

Repetition and wordiness. Often while editing I'll have to axe a few hundred words and will spend the whole process with my head in a thesaurus.

13) your strengths as an author

Oof, I’m not sure. People leave positive comments about character development, so maybe that. Also angst and pacing.

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

Friend, I have playlists for my playlists.

15) why did you start writing?

When I was 12 or so, I had made a friend in secondary school who’d started writing and wanted to practice. We used to write together on this website called GaiaOnline, which is actually where I met one of my best mates who lives in Canada (we started a Twilight roleplay together - I was Jacob!). That was about eight years ago. We fly back and forth to see each other :’)

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

L E A H M F K N C L E A R W A T E R. In the best way. (Unless I’ve left her abandoned for too long and there’s a story niggling away at me until I can’t sleep and have to get something on paper.)

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Stop trying to impress other people - it’ll save yourself a headache and you’ll get more done!

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

I spent months and months binge reading and re-reading everything written by Sarah J Maas which undoubtedly left its mark - and not necessarily a good one. Her repetition and one-line paragraphs drive me up the bleeding wall, but still I find myself doing it sometimes. An unconscious habit I have yet to break.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

Gdocs is my best pal. I create timelines for each fic (BWYA’s timeline is absurd) and note when in that timeline each chapter occurred, often with a few words to summarise major plot points. I don’t have too much trouble keeping track with characters because the majority of what I write at the moment is Twilight and the characters (the Pack!) have become second nature. I don’t have to reference anything too much for them.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

Recently it’s been little spurts, but when preparing to edit/post I usually have to set aside an evening to work on it for a few hours, if not more.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

Delete delete delete. I know a few authors who have completely purged their old works in the name of growth/improvement but I’m not quite there yet. Most I’ve done is move stuff on AO3 to another pseud so it’s not glaringly obvious that this Arthur/Merlin shipper was beyond obsessed.

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

Smut probably. Although not so much uncomfortable, but more because it’s such a slow process for me and I get super frustrated that I can never seem to make it work the way I imagine it… which is probably a waste of time because I never post it anyway. There’s not a lot of topics that make me uncomfortable (nothing that I’ve tried yet, anyway), but if there was something then I’d probably change things up to avoid dealing with it.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

It probably can’t be called obscure, but maybe being a bit of a target for bullies when I was in school helped because it meant I was mostly always on the computer during free time, writing and writing and writing. Sob story alert. But it definitely helped and gave me a hell of a lot of time to improve.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

I’ve pretty much devoured anything and everything I can get my hands on about indigenous peoples, especially the Quileutes. Wouldn’t call myself an expert but I’ve definitely learned a lot from what information is available about them. Also America in general -- maps, lingo, you name it. I’m not sure what people would do if I made the Pack a bit British and had them saying ‘blimey’ and ‘bloody’ all the time (because I do).

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

It’s not short but… This is from a Jacob/Leah drabble series I started which I’ve always loved. Maybe one day I’ll be able to make this one into a series: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12860435/7/The-Jacob-and-Leah-Drabbles

The Cullen mansion is boarded up, the last of their belongings and cars shipped this morning.

His own worldly possessions fit into one red toolbox and one single duffle bag, both of which once belonged to Billy. Understandably, the duffle bag is in worse shape than the toolbox; it's fraying at the seams and looking extremely sorry for itself on the passenger seat beside him whilst he waits impatiently for the convoy to roll out.

Nessie had wanted to ride along with him, and he'd instantly hated himself when he'd told her no. Leaving La Push — leaving Washington — is a pretty big fucking deal, and driving away from it . . . This feels like something he needs to do on his own.

He hadn't been able to explain it in a way that Nessie would stop asking questions, and even now she is still upset with him. Fifteen minutes ago, he'd tried to reason with her that driving alone was kind of like how she'd needed to say goodbye to every single room in the freakin' house — fourteen fucking rooms he'd had to walk through, twice — but, in spite of his imprint's otherworldly intelligence, he knows that she's still having trouble fully understanding what he had said.

(Maybe he's the stupid one. He's joining a coven of bloodsuckers, after all.)

"But we did that together," Nessie said plaintively.

Because you asked me to, had been the response he couldn't voice. But it hurts to hurt her, so he couldn't — can't say these things. He will never be able to say these things.

The only person who seemed to understand was Bella, and thankfully she'd managed to coerce Nessie into their black Mercedes instead.

(If his former best friend didn't smell like acid then he might have hugged her properly — not the now-normal one-armed hugs and fleeting kisses on her head which still make his stomach roll. Whatever. He's working on it.)

Jacob drums his fingers on the steering wheel, and finally, finally, the last of them are piling into their vehicles and that marvellous Jeep of Emmett's is roaring and—

"Wait!"

As soon as he hears that voice Jacob is leaping out of the Rabbit, as shocked as the bloodsuckers its owner has bolted past without acknowledging. Then he sees the backpack bouncing on her back, the relief in her eyes that she's not too late, and hope sparks.

Leah throws herself at him. He opens his arms to catch her without a second thought.

"I know what you have to do," she says quietly against his ear, breathless and trembling as her nails dig into his shoulders, "and I understand, Jake, I do, but — please. You don't have to do this on your own."

And he knows then, right there, because he's able to taste it on his tongue; he feels it settling in his heart, deep in his bones: nobody will ever love him as much as Leah Clearwater does.

#ask me things #thotscorpio #teamjacobthot

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cali-holland · 4 years ago

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Forever and Ever, Ch 4: Fit for a Princess

Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series

While Tom’s away filming, you take a day to go wedding dress shopping, but you don’t expect Harrison to insist upon coming with you.

Warnings: probably swearing and some sexual themes but that’s it

Word Count: 3200

Series Masterlist

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

“You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn't speak

You were my eyes when I couldn't see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn't reach

You gave me faith 'cause you believed

I'm everything I am

Because you loved me”

Because You Loved Me, Celine Dion

A/N: this part doesn’t feature tom as much, but don’t worry he’ll be there in the next chapter!!

~~~

In the weeks following the engagement party, you spent a majority of your free time on the phone to Tom, given that he had a break between filming. When you weren’t talking to your fiance (as you so loved calling him that now), you were knee deep in wedding planning with your mum and Nikki. You were incredibly grateful for the both of them, happy that they were so willing to help and give you advice. No official plans were made, not without Tom there (well you did have an official date with the chosen venue reserved now) but just listing all the things you’d need to do was a lot.

“I was thinking we could visit a florist to get some ideas for bouquets and centerpieces.” You said casually to Tom, who was currently on speaker phone, while you folded laundry, setting aside the clothes you wanted to pack to go see him. In just two days, you’d be reunited, and, even if it was just a short trip, you couldn’t be more excited about it.

“I’ll have a couple days off when you’re here so that’ll work.” He replied. Laughing, he asked, “When do we get to the cake part of wedding planning?”

“Probably when you come back home. Floral arrangements are pretty consistent from florist to florist, cakes not so much.” You teased. “Speaking of flowers, I have yet to receive my monthly bouquet.”

You heard him chuckle on the other end of the line, “Give them some time, they’ll be there shortly.”

“They’re coming today?” You questioned, placing a few shirts in your suitcase.

“Yep.”

“You know I’m going to be gone most of the day, right?” You asked, and there was a pause on his end.

“What are you doing today?” He sounded bewildered at the thought of you doing something on a Saturday, as if it was surprising for you to have plans without him.

“Dress shopping.” You laughed.

“Oh,” He paused before realization struck, “Oh, dress shopping as in-“

“Yeah, wedding dress shopping.” You smiled to yourself, thinking of all the endless wedding dress possibilities. You had heard about the feeling of the perfect wedding dress, the one that makes you feel and look like a princess, and you couldn’t wait to experience that clarity. Subconsciously, you began to trace over the engagement ring on your finger in nervous excitement.

“So I guess I can’t ask for pictures of it?” Tom asked, chuckling a little.

You looked over at the clock, your heart dropping as you realized you needed to get ready to leave for your dress shopping appointment. You let out a small sigh, “I should get going.”

“I should too.” He said quietly, “My break was supposed to be over five minutes ago.”

“Tom, you told me you were fine on time!” You exclaimed, worried that he was getting himself in trouble just to talk to you. It wouldn’t be the first time he got told off for it.

“I am fine.” He reassured you. “Now, go find yourself a dress. You’re going to take my breath away, no matter what dress you wear.”

“Go back to set, you cheeseball.” You teased, “I love you, Tom.”

“I love you, too, Y/N.” Tom replied. You heard him make a kissing noise through the phone before the call ended.

With a small sigh, you made your way downstairs, knowing it was already time to go meet your mum, Charlotte, and Nikki at the dress store.

“These came for you.” Harrison called out to you from the kitchen as soon as he heard you come down the stairs.

Smiling, you made your way into the kitchen. Your heart soared as you saw the massive bouquet of red roses with white roses in the middle, forming a white heart, by far the biggest bouquet you’d ever seen in your life. You reached for the card, wanting to read the sweet message Tom had included.

‘Roses aren’t always red, violets technically aren’t blue, I miss you so much darling, I can’t wait to marry you ❤️’

“How cheesy is it this time?” Harrison asked you teasingly.

“It’s not cheesy, it’s romantic.” You argued, grabbing out a couple of vases because there was no way the bouquet could fit in just one.

“How long has he been sending you bouquets like that? It’s got to be over a year.” Your brother inquired as he helped you put them in the vases with some water.

“I think around eighteen months? He started with our two year anniversary.” You beamed.

“Three years later and you’ve still got him wrapped around your finger.” He chuckled.

“Yep, this finger.” You joked, showing off your left ring finger, adorned with the brilliant diamond.

“Mum says you’re going dress shopping today.” He started, and you hummed in agreement. “Can I go?”

“You want to go dress shopping with me?” You asked Harrison in confusion. Out of all the wedding planning that he had helped with so far, you never expected to hear him offer to spend hours with you staring at elegant white dresses.

“Yeah.” He replied with a nod.

“It’s going to be long.” You stated, giving him a way out, but making your way to the front door with him nonetheless, “And very boring. Like venue picking, but worse.”

“You’re really selling the ‘say yes to the dress’ thing.” Harrison chuckled, slipping on his shoes as his way of saying that he was definitely going and nothing you said would change his mind. You knew it was bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress beforehand, but you didn’t know any superstitions about the brother of the bride seeing the dress; it simply never occurred to you that he’d be so invested in it.

“You’re not just coming to spy on the dress and tell Tom about it, are you?” You questioned as you tugged your shoes on.

“What? No. It’s bad luck.” He shook his head, and you believed him.

After stopping for some coffee, you and Harrison met up with your mum, Charlotte, and Nikki at the first dress shop. Hundreds of dresses lined their elegant white walls and you were questioned by the employees about the various aspects of wedding dresses- neckline, shape, sleeve length, material, shades of white, and even veils. Once you had said “I don’t know” for what was probably the seventh time, they finally let you and your party wander the store in search of dresses for you to try on. It wasn’t long before you were put in a dressing room with five different dresses to try on, each of varying styles.

“Which dress is this?” Nikki called out to you from her spot with the others on the plush cushions, waiting for you to emerge in your fourth dress.

“The one Charlotte picked out.” You answered. Pulling back the curtain, you stepped out in the satin mermaid gown with an unsure look on your face. “I like it, but I don’t think it’s-”

“It’s not the one.” Charlotte cut you off, her nose twisted up in disapproval, “No offense, it doesn’t fit you right.”

“None taken.” You laughed at your sister’s bluntness, returning to the dressing room to switch into another dress.

After another four dresses, you were starting to get a tired headache from the constant white materials getting thrown at you, even some off-white and cream materials. Stripped back down to your undergarments, you were ready to call this store quits and move on to another one.

“Can I be done yet?” You asked with a sigh. When you heard no reply from your family and Nikki, you poked your head out from the side of the curtain to see only Harrison standing there, his head tucked down with his eyes glued to his phone. You grabbed your shoe and threw it over at him, knocking him backwards into the stack of dresses.

“Hey! Watch it!” He exclaimed. Picking up your shoe, he said, “I was looking at places to go for lunch, and they’re out there searching for more dresses. I think Charlotte found a bridesmaid dress she likes.”

You didn’t really pay any mind to his reply as your eyes caught on one of the dresses behind him. “Hey Haz, grab me that dress. The poofy tulle one.”

“You know, when you said this was boring, you weren’t kidding.” Harrison teased, but grabbed the dress from the hanger anyway. He handed it to you, and he also gave you your shoe back as well. You closed the curtain on him and began to change into the new dress. “What about Mediterranean for lunch?”

You froze once you had the dress on all the way. It was a white tulle ball gown with delicate flowers all around the bodice and the gown. The flowers were white with light pink hues, almost the perfect pink hue that you and Tom had decided on for the color scheme.

“Y/N?” Harrison asked when you still didn’t respond.

Pulling the curtain open, you smiled at him nervously, “I think this is the one.”

Harrison’s eyes softened as he took in the dress. An awestruck smile overcame him, and he nodded, “You look like a princess.”

“Really?” Your voice was only just above a whisper. Your heart raced as you looked in the large mirror circling the far side of the room. Doing a little twirl, you felt his words sink in; you really looked and felt like a princess. You turned back to him, “Haz, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

You took a deep breath, trying to control your nerves as everything suddenly started to feel more real. “I know you’re the best man and you’ve done so much for me and Tom already, but will you give me away?”

There was a comfortable silence that fell between you two as you looked at him with hopeful eyes. You watched as his icy blue eyes glossed over with tears, and he let go of your hands to pull you in for a tight hug. Quietly, he mumbled, “Of course.”

You held onto your twin brother tightly, fighting back the tears that pricked your eyes. You wouldn’t be where you are today without him; you would’ve never met Tom, if it wasn’t for him. Harrison was always there for you, and you couldn’t think of anyone else to be your biggest support on your wedding day.

“Did we miss something?” Your mother asked, coming back into the room with Charlotte and Nikki. Charlotte was holding onto a soft pink dress with flowers along the hemline. You and Harrison pulled away from each other, and he quickly rubbed his eyes.

“Are you crying?” Charlotte questioned him teasingly.

“No.” He muttered.

“This is the dress.” You smiled, fluffing the skirt a little. Instantaneously, your mother, Charlotte, and Nikki all surrounded you, feeling the dress’s tulle material in awe, complimenting you on how well it fit.

As he stepped back to watch you finalize the wedding dress details, Harrison felt an inexplicable feeling of astonishment overcome him. From all of the wedding planning going around recently, it all felt surreal, but now watching you smile, talking to your mother in a classically gorgeous white dress, he couldn’t hide his happiness. His twin sister is marrying his best friend- that’s nothing he would have expected up until three years ago.

In fact, he can recall the exact moment he realized that you and Tom were simply just meant to be.

It was a Friday in late January 2017, and Harrison was out, having a few drinks with his modeling friends, if he could even call them that. They were all good people, they were funny, but they just weren’t really his kind of people. They were acquaintances at best. He’d much rather be spending his Friday night with the boys, but Harry was out of town with Sam, Tom was on a date, and he didn’t even think to ask what you were up to that evening. Tom hadn’t explicitly said he was on a date, but Harrison could tell; it wasn’t a normal thing for Tom to set up reservations at a restaurant or to buy himself a nice button up.

Harrison drummed his fingers on the table, trying to come up with an excuse to leave the bar. It was far too early in the night for him to say he was tired, and he knew it’d be wrong to come up with some dramatic family emergency lie. Suddenly, a vibrant red dress caught his eye from the corner of the room. His eyes went wide as he took in the sight before him.

Across the room, you and Tom sat in a small corner booth- you, in a red dress that Harrison had never seen before, and Tom in his new, very nice blue shirt. Harrison blinked a few times just to make sure he was seeing things correctly. He thought that maybe you two just happened to run into each other, both of you dressed like you were going on a date, but then he saw you laugh, leaning into Tom.

The table of models burst into obnoxious laughter, bringing Harrison away from his stunned stare. He took a couple more sips of his drink, trying to decide if he continues to suffer through this night or if he just goes and crashes with you and Tom. He couldn’t stop himself before he stood up from his table, grabbed his beer, and, without another word, walked over to you and Tom.

“Haz, what are you doing here?” You asked, all contact with Tom suddenly lost as you two moved apart. Self consciously, you adjusted the low neckline of your dress, and Harrison took a seat besides Tom.

Harrison nodded back to the group of friends that he just abandoned, “They’re boring. What are you two up to?” Acting oblivious to the truth, he drank the rest of his beer with raised eyebrows at you two.

“N-nothing.” Tom said, and you coughed a little. Tom looked at you, his eyes trying to silent ask if he was supposed to tell Harrison what was going on.

“Yeah, nothing. Just sharing some drinks.” You added.

“Ah, okay.” Harrison nodded. He thought about calling you two out for a moment, before deciding against it, “Y/N, is that a new dress? I’ve never seen it before. Did you get it when shopping with Charlotte yesterday?”

“What? No.” You defensively shook your head, but you were a terrible liar when put on the spot like that and both boys could clearly tell.

“And Tom, didn’t you have a date tonight? Or did you just feel like getting a fancy new button up?” He asked. Tom gulped beside you nervously and Harrison looked over at you with his classic shit eating grin, “What’s that look for? I’m just trying to figure out how long you two will sit there and act like you’re not clearly on a date.” At his last word, his eyes shifted over to Tom, narrowing intimidatingly.

Bubbling with embarrassed anger, you kicked your brother underneath the table. You didn’t care if anyone else heard you in the bar, shouting, “Harrison James, you’re the worst!”

“How’d you know?” Tom asked, trying his best to hide his new found fear of Harrison. After all, he had never actually cleared dating you with Harrison since this was your very first date and both of you agreed to keep it secret, just wanting to see how it goes for now.

But the secret was out now.

“This is the best either of you have looked in months.” Harrison just about scoffed, laughing at his friend’s astonishment.

“So you saw that we were on a date and thought ‘gee, I better go interrupt’?” You questioned, bitterness clear in your tone.

“Yeah, and I also truly wanted to escape that lot.” He laughed, “This is much more amusing. How long has this been going on?”

The grin slowly faded from his face as you and Tom both sat there quietly, both of you avoiding looking at each other awkwardly. The lack of response was enough to make him let out an uncomfortable breath.

“You know what?” Harrison stood up from the table, guilt starting to creep in, “Let’s just forget the past ten minutes. I’ll get back to my friends, you two get back to your date.”

You couldn’t get out another word before he left back to his friends. Needless to say, you and Tom had a good rest of the night. Harrison would glance at you two every so often, and he felt his heart soar with happiness as he saw how absolutely content you two were with each other. He knew then that there was only one guy he’d ever let date, and perhaps eventually marry, his sister, and that guy was Tom.

When Tom arrived home after dropping you off, he found himself scared over the talk he’d no doubtedly have to have with Harrison. Ever so awkwardly, Tom tried to ask his friend about if it was okay to date you, but Harrison just shrugged it off.

“It’s okay. Really, mate.” Harrison insisted, wanting to just go to bed and not suffer any longer from this painfully awkward talk.

“Are you sure?” Tom double checked and his friend let out a sigh.

“Yes.” He let out a small sigh. “Look, just, if way down the road, you want to marry her, you better ask me for permission first.”

Tom let out a small laugh. Nodding his head, he replied, “Got it.”

Harrison had meant it jokingly in that moment, but he knew one day he’d be asked that question, and he couldn’t be any happier for you two when Tom finally asked.

As the dress talk continued with measuring tapes and pins suddenly appearing, Harrison busied himself by wandering around the store. It was empty, save for a few employees, but he assumed that was the perk of a celebrity engagement- you could get the store to yourself for a few hours. He found himself in the veil section. He didn’t know there were this many types of veils- all sorted by length and then by cut and then by their accents, but he knew you needed one. With all the focus on the wedding dress, he hadn’t heard anyone speak about the veil.

“Harrison, where’d you go?” Charlotte called out to him from the opposite side of the store. Just as he was going to respond, one veil in particular caught his eye.

The veil was simple, yet long and elegant with a lace trim similar to that of the dress that you had chosen just moments before. And at the top of the veil was a thin band of diamonds, resembling a tiara in a way. Grabbing the veil, Harrison headed back to you and the others.

“Here, try this.” Harrison offered, coming up behind you. You watched him through the mirrors on the wall across from you as he put the tiara in your hair. With the way the veil seemed to flow into your dress, leaving just enough of a train, you knew it was perfect.

Smiling, you took your brother’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly, “Thank you.”

“What can I say? A princess needs her tiara.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker @miraclesoflove

Tom Holland Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland

Series Tag List: @thefallenbibliophilequote @wassup-peoples @thevelvetseries @greatpizzascissorstaco @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe @asonofpeter @fallinfortom @millennial-teenybopper @rebekkah4766

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic

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thesvenqueen · 4 years ago

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The Mummy

Rating: M (to be safe; gore, language) Main Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Hamunaptra. A place filled with history, legends and mystery. A place Anna Arendelle had only dreamed of finding since she was a little girl. When it seems faith supplies her with the opportunity to find this hidden city, she jumps head first at the chance to find it. But a revengeful mummy, an apocalyptic curse, a deadly adventure (and possibly love) where not exactly on her list of things to discover. Previous Chapters: [ P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ]

Chapter 9

“You know,” Anna slurred as the bottle of whiskey felt oddly heavy in her hand, which resulted in the bottle slamming down into the sand. “This is not at all what I was expecting.”

Kristoff chuckled beside her, the sound making her heart flutter.

Or was it the booz?

“What were you expecting?”

Anna huffed a laugh, throwing her arm out, “Not this.”

“Didn’t think digs meant fighting off random strangers with swords and jumping off burning boats?”

“Absolutely not.”

Kristoff laughed once more, the sound echoing off the broken stone and sand around them. Anna looked to him, watching as he reached for the whiskey. For a brief moment, their hands touched and even though he had just held her not even an hour before, the small touch made her blush.

She felt entirely too hot, but then again, that could very much be the alcohol.

Somehow in the firelight, Kristoff looked even more handsome. It caught his jaw and seemed to make his brown eyes just glow.

Brown eyes that were staring at her and oh shit, he had said something.

“What?”

Kristoff smirked at her, “I said, you’re holding up better than your brother.”

Anna blinked, then whipped around to see Sven fast asleep on the other side of the fire.

It had been his idea to bring out the whiskey, something to relax them all after the events of earlier that evening. At first, Anna had been a bit unsure about the idea. She didn’t hate drinking, but it never seemed to go well for her when she did. Especially with her brother around, who always managed to cause some kind of mischief that would seemingly always end in a massive headache for Anna that wasn’t just from the alcohol.

As Sven & Kristoff shared a round, a log from the fire fell with a loud thump. The noise had made Anna jump, looking around to see who may be upon them. When she had looked back, she saw Sven smiling at her gently and holding the bottle out to her. Reluctantly, she sighed as she had taken the bottle from her brother, the whiskey burning as it went down.

She’d nearly regretted it, making a face that Kristoff had found highly amusing as she fought off the urge to spit it all right back out.

Now though, now she felt more at ease. The tension that had rested in her shoulders, in her chest was unnoticeable. She felt light, free almost.

“Well, unlike my brother,” Anna said, letting her head lull to the side as she continued to stare at a sleeping Sven, “I know when to stop.”

Anna heard the sound of the whiskey swishing in the bottle and instinctively held her hand out to Kristoff, not noticing the small snort as he put the bottle in her hand.

Keeping her eyes on her brother, she took another swig of the whiskey. It didn’t burn as it went down. Instead it was a comforting warmth, one that seemed to go all the way to her toes. It was a nice feeling, one that made Anna hum in enjoyment.

She wasn’t drunk by any means, more tipsy than anything and that was exactly where she wanted to be. Right on the fence of too little and too much. Anywhere over and it would mean trouble for her, and potentially Kristoff too if she wasn’t careful.

Last thing she needed was to embarrass herself even more in front of him.

“I’m still confused though.”

Anna furrowed her brow as she looked over to Kristoff. “What d’you mean?”

“Well, I mean...I get why he’s here.” Kristoff said, nodding towards Sven, “but…”

Kristoff was rubbing the back of her neck, stumbling over his words, but it clicked in Anna’s fuzzy mind what he was getting at.

Anna smiled, “You’re wondering why I, of all people, would be out here?”

“Well...I mean, uh...”

“It’s fine. I mean, makes sense I suppose. I’m not the most ideal person to want to jump aboard an expedition like this.”

“It’s not that,” Kristoff said, “More just, curious what made you want to come out here.”

“It’s in my blood.” Anna said, “My parents, they hated the normal everyday life in England growing up. So, they both decided to become archeologists, my father studying in England & my mother in Egypt.”

“That’s where it really started, our family's love for Egypt.” Anna said with a smile, looking around at the ruins around her, “My mother fell in love with it the moment she set foot in the country. When she met my father later on, at a dig site no less, he would fall in love with it too. He always would say ‘Egypt brought me my greatest treasure’.”

“Your father sounds a bit…”

“Cheesy?” Anna giggled, “A bit yeah, but he was amazing. They both were. They used to tell us stories of all of these grand adventures they would go on, all the things they had found; lost cities, burial grounds, ancient tombs and hidden temples. When we were old enough, we started going with them. On small ones, never the bigger ones. We both fell in love with it.” Anna looked at her snoring brother, “Sven more so for the jewels and riches.”

“That makes sense.”

There was a pause, and Anna could feel Kristoff thinking beside her. “But….”

But, I’m still wondering what brought you out here?”

Anna looked at him, confused, “Is it that odd that a woman would be so interested in adventure and old ruins?”

Kristoff’s eyes widened, taken aback, “No--I--no, that’s not what--”

“Listen,” Anna said, glaring at him, “I may not be much of an explorer or an adventurer as you or-or as greedy as my brother but I am allowed to be out here just as much as you both.”

“That wasn’t what I meant I…” Anna watched as Kristoff fought to find the words, his hand running through his hair as he groaned. He looked everywhere but her. “I just...wanted to know why, I wasn’t saying you didn’t deserve to be out here. I...You deserve to be out here, more than anyone. Especially your brother.”

That made Anna snort, “Don’t say that too loud, he is a fighter when he’s drunk.”

The tension left Kristoff’s body as he looked at her, a smile back on his face. “It’s true though.”

Anna turned away, trying to hide the blush rushing to her cheeks. She tapped her nails on the bottle, biting her lip as she looked into the flames.

“I mean it.”

Anna looked back to him, his brown eyes seeming to sparkle in the fire light. “Mean what?”

“That you deserve to be here more than anyone else. You know why?”

Anna shook her head.

“Because you actually care about this stuff. Most people just come for the jewels or publicity or money, but you genuinely care about the history of it all. You care about why and how these ruins were here, what happened to the people that lived within these walls. I mean, I have never met someone that could get so excited at just finding a decrepit mummy.”

Anna giggled. “Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Kristoff said with a chuckle and by god’s above she would never get tired of seeing his smile. “Seriously though,” He said, taking hold of one of her hands. “I mean it. You...you deserve it just as much, if not more, than anyone else here.”

“Especially my brother?”

“Especially your brother.”

Anna laughed again, looking down at where there hands met and bit her lip at how much larger his hands were compared to her own. They were rough and scarred but so incredibly gentle. Without thinking, she ran her thumb over the back of his hand, enjoying the feel of her hand in his.

In response, he squeezed her hand and Anna looked up to find him looking at her with the softest smile. The idea to kiss him came to mind and she couldn’t help but look down at his lips and back to his eyes.

Kristoff must have noticed as Anna swore she could see a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Looking into his brown eyes, she suddenly felt the dying urge to give in and kiss him. Not sure whether to blame herself or the liquid courage within her, she whispered as she began to lean towards him, “Kristoff…”

“OI!”

Anna jumped, nearly falling over at the sound of her very drunk brother. Sven was sitting straight up, eyes barely open and head lolled to the side as he looked at the pair.

Completely unaware.

“Whut’s a boi gots to do to get a drinksss around here aye?”

Trying to catch her breath, Anna managed to speak, “You’re cut off Sven. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m completely fine.” Sven muttered as he fell back over onto his mat. As he began to snore, Anna took a deep breath as she looked back to Kristoff.

He was blushing, that much was very obvious, but he kept his eyes down in the sand as he spoke, “I think we should both get some sleep...big day and all.”

“Oh…” Anna said, not at all hiding the disappointment in her voice. “Oh, yes, alright.”

Biting her lip, she stood and walked around the fire to her mat. She was a fool, an utter fool for trying to kiss him. For thinking he would want to kiss her.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t thinking, Anna realized, she was merely following along with the pull the alcohol no doubt created.

Or did it?

What if it had just given her the ounce of courage she had been looking for, had finally pushed her to cross that line like she had been wanting to? What if, in fact, she did like him and hoped beyond all hopes he did too.

Anna shook her head, pushing out the thought.

No, she was an idiot for trying it, for even thinking that maybe he was interested in her. There was no way a man like him, a natural born explorer and adventurer, would ever be interested in a lousy know-it-all librarian.

Still...

“Anna?”

She turned around, looking over the fire at Kristoff as he remained sitting. “Yes?”

A moment of silence came between them, nothing but the crackle of the fire and sounds of the night. Neither moved, neither breathed a word as they both simply stared at the other.

Anna took in the sight of him within the fire light, how he seemed to look how it made his eyes nearly gold, the same ones that seem to be lost in her own eyes as she was in his. How he looked at her as though she was the only human being on this planet.

For a moment, a fleeting moment, she thought he might come to her. Might grab her in his arms and kiss her like she had wanted to do not a moment before.

Kristoff let out a sigh, turning away and breaking the moment as he muttered, “Goodnight.”

Clenching her dress, Anna managed a soft goodnight in return and laid down onto her mat.

Disappointment gripped her, her heart hammering in her chest as she fought back the bit of tears that threatened to form.

She would not cry, she refused to cry. There was no reason to be shedding tears over a man that was obviously not at all interested in her.

Yet, there had been the moment just before, where his eyes bore into her own and looked to her as though she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

How Anna swore that he had leaned into her, following her lead before the almost kiss was interrupted.

Still, he hadn’t said a word. Had chosen to pretend it didn't happen and it killed Anna to think he’d rather dismiss what had nearly happened between them then to act on it. She was a fool, a fool who fell for any man that gave her an ounce of attention.

She was thankful she’d chosen to turn and face the stone wall instead of the fire, Kristoff unable to see her face as she fought her emotions. She couldn’t bear to look at him, so utterly embarrassed and god’s she still had days left at least on this excavation before they could depart from each other.

A fool. She was a complete fool.

Fighting her own emotions, Anna nearly missed the sound of Kristoff sighing and him groan,

“Idiot. Fucking idiot.”

Anna’s eyes went wide.

Was he talking about her? No, he couldn’t be. Not after he had spoken so kindly about her before.

So then, was he talking about himself?

Was he...was he regretting not making his move as much as she was?

No, Anna thought, there was no way.

But there was no denying the sound of disappointment in his voice when he had apparently chided himself. A tone all too familiar to Anna, a tone she herself had done oh so many times throughout her life. There was only one thing he could be regretting, could be so completely disappointed with himself for doing, or in fact not doing.

Smiling, a new flame of hope now lit within her, Anna let sleep consume her. Her mind now at peace at the fact that she was not the only one left disappointed.

#kristanna #kristoff #anna #sven #the mummy #jessica writes #oh hey #i wrote something

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Victor’s R&S - Flashback (Eng Translation)

🍒 @sage-n-rosemary has kindly informed me that this R&S (”闪回”) will not be released in EN or any server as it's one of the cancelled R&S which came with the Dream Heart Lake gacha event!🍒

Summary: The moment he catches her, he feels the scene and the one which happened seventeen years ago completely overlap.

Cancelled Victor R&S:

> six out of seventeen

> paradise on earth

> so-called disparity

[ Chapter 1 ]

When he regains consciousness, the young boy's eyes are slightly blank, and he hasn’t fully sobered up.

He isn’t in his home, nor is he sleeping on his desk in the classroom... where is he then?

He doesn’t recognise his surroundings - whether it’s the decor or the other children who are on the floor. The white walls were painted shoddily, and some parts of the walls are thicker than others. Some parts of the walls have even begun to chip off.

He notices that there are other kids around him who are slowly waking up

He doesn’t recognise these children, apart from a girl wearing a dress.

Actually, he can’t really say that he knows her. He just happened to play together with her for a while, and happened to save her life from under the wheel of a car last week.

Seeing MC, Victor has a hunch on why they’ve been brought here

Young MC notices Victor’s line of sight and looks at him

Not wanting to rouse the children who have cried themselves into a gradual slumber, the young boy mouths a word in the direction of the girl-

Dummy.

When the words come out, the young boy himself isn’t clear on why he called her a dummy. Was she dumb for getting captured to this place? Or was it because she rushed onto the road to save a kitten? He doesn’t even know if the word “dummy” was referring to the girl or to himself.

Without waiting for the young boy to comprehend his own thoughts, the girl in the corner responds with a grimace. Clearly, she understood what the boy was mouthing.

“Childish.”

Logically speaking, considering their distance, the girl wouldn’t have been able to hear the boy’s mutter clearly. However, she seems to understand it, and reaches out to make the number “six” with her hands. Seeing that hand pose, the boy is left dumbfounded.

He recalls the scene when he called her “childish” for the first time: Back then, she looked very pleased with herself, and also reached out her left hand towards him to make the number “six”. She had announced matter-of-factly: “I’m six years younger than you, so it’s normal to be childish!”

The first time he met her... should have been around a year ago.

[ Chapter 2 ]

Victor recalls the first time they met at a park not far from his home

He was playing soccer with a few boys at an empty area near a sandpit because the usual grass patch they played at wasn’t available for use

With a volley shot, the young boy knocked down the sandcastle the girl had just piled up in the sandpit next to them.

That’s how their ill-fated relationship began.

The young boy clearly remembers apologising to her back then, and that the girl had accepted his apology. Even so, the tears in her eyes just didn’t stop.

“Don’t cry, I’ll make up for it by building you a sandcastle.”

“...it’s not the same.”

“I’ll help build a sandcastle together with you then?”

“I don’t want to. There’s no time.”

He didn’t understand what she meant by “there’s no time.” He just felt a massive headache: “I’ve already apologised and proposed solutions. The sandcastle is broken. What do you want?”

His tone wasn’t heavy, but for some reason, the girl started crying even harder. He had never met with such a situation before, and was at a complete loss. What’s worse was that the other boys jeered at him from the side, saying, “Hahaha he made the little girl cry.”

That day, the young boy learnt two things:

One - you know who your true friends are in times of trouble. Two - you should never, ever speak reason to a crying girl.

After deciding in his heart never to play soccer with this group of boys again, the young boy tried questioning the little girl:

“To make amends... I’ll treat you to a dessert?”

“You... you’re not lying to me right?”

At first, he only wanted to try his luck. He didn’t think he would hear the girl gradually hold back her crying.

“I don’t have any on me right now, but you can follow me to buy it from the shop.”

“No way!!” the girl’s eyes, which were filled with tears, suddenly became resolute and decisive. “Dad said that I can’t go off with strangers, or I’ll get sold!”

“So what do you want?”

That was the second time he said this.

This time, the girl didn’t burst into tears again, but seriously considered the question. “I’ll still be playing here tomorrow. Big Brother can bring your dessert over then.”

Looking at the serious and naive girl, the young boy was left speechless. The other boys behind him couldn’t help but laugh, their laughter mixed with several words of ridicule-

Certainly, the girl’s suggestion was very silly. He could make a promise right now and comply with the agreement to bring the dessert the next day. But he could also make a promise and then never appear again. Perhaps it was his conscience speaking, or the guilt he felt towards the girl - in the end, the young boy chose the former.

He decided to fulfil this little promise.

[ Chapter 3 ]

When the young boy returned to this place on the second day, the girl was already waiting. Same as yesterday, she was piling up a sandcastle alone, but this time, the sandcastle wasn’t broken by someone.

Upon seeing the young boy, there wasn’t any surprise on the girl’s face. She just stopped her “work” and tilted her head to ask him: “Big Brother, where are your friends?”

Asking this, she smiled just like a cunning little fox.

“They’re not considered friends.” After a moment of hesitation, he gave her such an answer. “Why... aren’t you asking about your dessert first?”

“Because I knew Big Brother would definitely bring it.”

The girl watched the young boy while smiling sweetly, her originally round eyes crinkling into a line.

“Oh. I actually made it. But I forgot to bring it with me when I left the house.”

Unexpectedly, the other party didn’t express anger or disappointment at his words. Instead, she excitedly stared at the bag in his hands. “Wow! This pudding was made by you! That’s amazing!”

“I haven’t taken the pudding out, and I called it a “dessert” yesterday-” the young boy keenly noticed the oddness of the other party’s words. “How did you know the thing I brought was pudding?”

“Because I saw it yesterday.”

Hearing the girl’s answer, there was a flash of surprise in his eyes. But he accepted this fact within a second, and choose to believe it.

“You... can see the future?”

“Mm.” The girl nodded her head with certainty. After a moment of hesitation, she placed a finger on her mouth with a “shh” sound. “Even though they are just a few images.”

As she spoke, the girl scratched her head in embarrassment, and the sand in her hand followed her actions, entering the spaces between her hair: “Yesterday, I saw it - you would appear here before the sun sets, and take out a pudding from the bag and give it to me.”

Now, the young boy finally understood why the the girl made such a silly agreement with him yesterday.

“Also, what is your name, Big Brother?”

“Victor.”

In return, the girl also told the young boy her name, and also asked him a question: “Brother Victor, you said they weren’t considered friends. What about me?”

To the young boy, the girl who said this seemed to have stars in her eyes.

[ Chapter 4 ]

That day, the young boy Victor didn’t make a new friend just because of the girl’s words. Instead, a bug who was six years younger than him yielded to him because of the pudding he made with his own hands.

It was only in the park when he would meet the girl. He didn’t notice it before, but after getting to know her, he realised a few odd things about her. She didn’t stick to people. Most of the time, she would be at the side quietly reading a book, drawing, or talking to little animals.

He didn’t know what books the girl, with her limited vocabulary, would read from dawn to dusk. He also couldn't understand the undecipherable handwriting she would run over and show him with pride. Most of all, he didn’t know when she had grasped the “unique ability” to converse with animals.

However, without realising it, he had picked up a new habit - every time he came to the park, he would make a round to see if the girl was there that day.

If the girl was around, she would immediately fly over to his side and report her new discoveries:

Perhaps it would be how a flower looks when it blooms. Perhaps it would be the trail of ants in the process of moving their home. Perhaps it would be the bird’s nest on the tree. Or perhaps it would be a new friend she made.

Every time, the young boy would expressionlessly respond with a half-hearted “oh”, “mm”, “and then?”.

The girl would sometimes ask rhetorical questions: “Brother Victor, why don’t you smile? It’s so interesting.”

It was likely under these circumstances that the young boy first called her “childish”. To Victor, who is older than her by a few years, the girl’s discoveries were not considered interesting, which is why he didn’t smile.

But what the girl didn’t know is that on days when she isn’t at the park, the young boy’s face would be far from “not smiling” - it would be cold.

Later on, Victor was more willing to term this “new habit” as a “conditioned reflex” - it was because she was at the park most of the time he was there, that he developed a conditioned reflex to look for her everywhere whenever he went to the park.

And it’s exactly thanks to this conditioned reflex-

That he could save her in time on that rainy day.

[ Chapter 5 ]

It was a summer afternoon, and the sound of rain was gradually getting heavier

Victor saw MC squatting down and holding an umbrella, talking to a tabby cat

Suddenly, the cat seemed to hear or smell something and ran off in the direction of the road

From afar, he watched the girl toss aside the small yellow umbrella and chase after the tabby cat towards the road. Watching the cars rushing past and coming closer to the girl, and watching the girl close to losing herself in a place out of his reach...

Without needing to make a judgement, without needing to think, and without needing to hesitate, his instincts made the decision.

This wasn’t the first time Victor stopped time, but it was the most thoughtless instance.

If the current situation they are in is the price to pay for using his abilities in public, he would just have to think of a way to get out of it.

His thoughts return to the present, and he looks at the girl in the corner closing her eyes and taking a nap. The young boy starts thinking of a plan to leave this place.

As long as he wants to do something, there’s nothing he can’t do.

That’s how convinced the young boy is at this moment.

Other cancelled R&S: here

Lucien’s cancelled R&S (by other user): here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc victor #BABIES #cncancelled

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