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jrob64 · 3 years ago

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One Thrill Ride Leads to Another - A CS Modern AU Chapter 3 (Connections)

I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. This chapter sees our favorite characters getting a little closer and figuring out some personal connections that they share. Still no smut, but hang in there!

Many thanks to @hookedmom and @kmomof4 for all their help.

Story Summary: While working at Universal’s Islands of Adventure, Killian Jones meets Emma Swan, slips his name and number into her phone, and later sends her a text asking her out. His snap decision could lead to her blocking his number, or to an adventure much more thrilling than a ride on a roller coaster.

Rating: M (for smut in future chapters)

Words: 6230 (Chapter 3)

Previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch 1 Ch2

Story also found on ffn and Ao3

*********

The next morning when Emma emerged from the bathroom after her shower, she nearly ran into Ruby, who was twisting around to look at herself in the full-length mirror.

“How do I look?” she asked.

Emma scanned her friend head to toe, taking in the low cut white blouse, very short jean shorts and high heels. “What are you going for exactly?”

“I already told you last night what I’m going for - to have my way with a sexy Irishman.”

“How do you expect to go shopping all day in four inch heels? I can’t believe you even packed them.”

“One should always pack a pair of heels, Em. You never know when you need to make your calves look fantastic!”

“It won’t matter how fantastic they look, if you can’t walk by the end of the day.”

“Then Graham will just have to carry me, I guess!”

Emma threw her hands up in resignation. “Whatever! I have to get ready. We should leave for breakfast in about fifteen minutes.”

Laying some clothing choices out on the bed, she cursed herself for not packing a couple of nicer outfits appropriate for a date. Of course, she hadn’t been planning to go out with someone when she packed. Was this a date…and could yesterday technically be considered a date?

She finally selected a red sleeveless blouse and tan walking shorts with black flats. Once she was dressed, she styled her hair in a messy braid that fell over her shoulder and carefully applied some light makeup.

“Ready?” she asked Ruby, who had just finished painting her fingernails with a fesh coat of red polish.

“Yep! You’re gonna have to get all of my food for me so I don’t mess up my nails.”

“Will I have to feed you, too?”

“Possibly. I’ll be like a baby bird and you can just drop it into my mouth,” Ruby grinned mischievously.

Emma couldn’t help smiling at her friend’s antics, but she tried to hide it as she slung her small crossbody bag over her head. They left the room and Emma led the way down the hall to the elevator, while Ruby followed, waving her hands in the air to dry her nails. Their usual healthy appetites were a bit off due to their excitement of meeting the guys, but with all the walking they would be doing, they knew it was important to get plenty of protein and calories to fuel the day’s adventures.

Their Uber driver delivered them to Disney Springs at 9:50 and they headed straight to the Lego Store. When they reached the appointed meeting spot, they saw Killian and Graham already waiting. Taking in Killian’s tight gray T-shirt and navy cargo shorts, Emma felt a flutter in her chest, which intensified when he reached up to slide his sunglasses down to look at her over the top of them. It was the same move that drew her attention the day before, and she still thought it was sexy as hell.

He approached her with a dimpled smile. “You look stunning, Swan.”

“Thank you,” she replied, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks.

Ruby showed no restraint, running up to Graham with a squeal and throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her with a beaming smile on his face and started to swing her around before realizing it was too crowded, opting to lift her off the ground instead.

Emma reached down to tangle her fingers with Killian’s. He glanced over at her with a surprised, but happy look on his face and gave her hand a squeeze. “Would you like to see all the sculptures they have outside first? Maybe take some pictures?”

“Sure. How many are there?”

“Besides this one,” he said, gesturing toward the giant display of Sleeping Beauty’s prince fighting the dragon, “there’s Frozen and Star Wars characters, Mickey Mouse as the Sorcerer’s Apprentice and Brickley the sea serpent in the lagoon.”

The four of them stayed on the walkway in front of the store, marveling at the life-size Lego figures they saw and taking lots of pictures of each other posing in front of them. Emma was the most intrigued with the sea serpent out in the middle of the water. “Do you think they built it and then filled the lagoon with water? And is it a complete dragon or did they just make the parts you can see above the surface?”

“I’ve wondered about that myself,” Killian said. “We could probably Google it to find out the answers.”

Once they entered the store, Graham gravitated toward the Star Wars and Marvel area. Ruby was right beside him, his arm slung over her shoulder and her hand in the back pocket of his shorts.

Emma and Killian wandered around, looking at the different displays and Lego sculptures. She took his picture in front of the Hulk and he took hers beside Baby Yoda. “Are you a Star Wars fan?” she asked.

“I’ve watched the movies, but I’m not nearly as big a fan as Graham. He’s probably over there geeking out over the newest sets. Wait until he sees that the one of the Millenium Falcon is $850!”

“Wow! Who would pay that much for a Lego set?”

“Some people are avid collectors; it’s an expensive hobby.”

After leaving the Lego store, they stopped at Starbucks before going to the World of Disney store. Emma and Ruby were drawn to the area where clothes for babies were on display. “Remember we told you our friend couldn’t come with us because she’s pregnant?” Emma reminded Killian. “We have to take something back to her from the trip.”

Killian picked up a tiny pink onesie that said ‘Disney Princess in Training’ as he asked, “Do you know if she’s having a boy or a girl?”

“She’s not that far along yet,” Ruby answered, checking the price on an infant sized set of Mickey Mouse ears. “I’m betting it’s a boy.”

“I’m not making any predictions yet,” Emma countered. “M’s is gonna be a great mom no matter what.”

“Yeah, she did a good job raising us,” Ruby smirked.

Both women left the store with a large shopping bag of souvenirs, including several things for Mary Margaret and the baby. They bought toys and clothing for both a boy and a girl, just to cover their bases, including the ‘Princess in Training’ onesie that Ruby declared was too cute not to buy. They continued on through several more stores, buying things now and then, but mostly enjoying the atmosphere of Disney Springs.

When they went into Disney’s Days of Christmas, Emma found herself looking at tree ornaments with Killian. “Do you do a lot of decorating for Christmas?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not a lot. We had a sad, little tree we put up in our apartment at college, but that was about it. Ruby and I inherited it for the apartment we live in now. I’d like to get a bigger one this year.”

Killian was quiet, pondering whether he would still be in contact with Emma by Christmas. He certainly hoped so.

“Did you have any special Christmas traditions growing up?” he asked.

She was silent for so long, he thought perhaps she hadn’t heard him. As she slowly placed a Donald Duck ornament back on the tree, she quietly said, “I, um, I didn’t have a conventional childhood. I was taken away from my parents by CPS when I was three and never went back to them, so I grew up in foster care. I wasn’t in one place long enough to know if they had any Christmas traditions.”

He put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “It seems we have some things in common, Emma.”

“Not very pleasant things.”

“Perhaps, but we both made it through and are doing quite well, wouldn’t you say?”

She turned her face up to him and met his eyes, a soft smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, we are.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers, happy to see her smile when he pulled away. “I’m assuming you’ll need more ornaments for your new Christmas tree?” he asked softly.

“That would be nice. Will you help me pick some out?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he grinned.

They spent the next thirty minutes discussing options and finally settled on a replica of the Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse statue from Magic Kingdom, Mickey and Minnie Mouse dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus, Belle dancing with the Beast, and Rapunzel threatening Flynn Ryder with a frying pan, since Emma told Killian her favorite Disney movie was Tangled.

By the time they left the Christmas store, it was nearly two o’clock, so they began making their way back down the walkway toward Raglan Road Irish Pub. They arrived fifteen minutes early, checked in with the hostess and went next door to the Shop for Ireland, where Emma and Ruby teasingly held kilts up in front of the guys to get an idea of how they would look in them.

“Have you ever worn one?” Emma giggled.

“I haven’t, but Graham has, haven’t you, Humbert?”

A flush spread up Graham’s neck all the way to the tips of his ears. “Aye, I’ve worn one on a couple of occasions. They’re actually quite comfortable…and freeing.”

Ruby laughed and ran her hands up his chest, locking her fingers together behind his neck. “I would love to see you in a kilt, Wolfman.”

“Wolfman?” Emma questioned.

“Mmhmm. I’m his Little Red Riding Hood and he’s my Wolfman,” Ruby explained, nuzzling into his neck.

They left soon after to check on their reservations, and were seated in less than five minutes. Their table was very close to the main stage, where men and women were performing traditional Irish dances while a live band played.

Emma and Ruby asked the guys’ advice on what to order as they pored over the menu. When their food arrived, each couple sat close together to share from each other’s plate. The entertainment and food were both excellent and when they emerged back outside, they were all groaning from eating too much.

“Where should we go next?” Emma asked.

Graham and Ruby shared a look before she spoke. “Actually, we’re planning to go back to the hotel now.”

Emma’s eyes widened as they shifted between the two people in front of her. “Already? But I thought we were going to be here until well into the evening. We were planning to go to Ghirardelli’s for dessert later.”

“Well, we plan to indulge in a different kind of dessert, along with dinner, a midnight snack and tomorrow’s breakfast,” Ruby said, with a huge grin on her face as she looked up through her lashes at Graham.

Killian smirked, but the smile faltered as soon as he saw Emma’s face. “What’s wrong, Swan?”

“Where am I supposed to stay tonight?”

Killian’s head dropped a little and he scratched behind his ear as he fully realized the predicament Ruby’s plans put her in. Suddenly, his gaze intensified as he stepped in front of her and took both of her hands in his. “At the risk of being too forward…”

“Says the man who snuck his name and number into her phone,” Graham chuckled.

Killian shot him a look before continuing, “You’re welcome to stay at our apartment. You can sleep in Graham’s bed or I can take the sofa and you can sleep in mine.”

“Or she can sleep there with you in it,” Ruby threw in.

“Ruby…” Emma warned.

“I’m just saying, there are lots of options.”

“I won’t have any pajamas to wear…”

“I don’t plan to wear pajamas…” Ruby interrupted again.

“Seriously, Ruby? I’m trying to solve a problem here.”

“Why is it such a problem, Em? You’re surrounded by stores. Buy something to wear or hell, borrow one of Killian’s T-shirts. I’m sure he won’t mind, will you, Killian?”

“Not at all. You’re welcome to borrow one, if you like,” he affirmed.

“You bought some new clothes at the Disney Store that you can wear tomorrow,” Ruby went on. “I know it’s an inconvenience to you, Em, but Graham and I only have a couple of nights together and we want to make the most of them.”

Emma seemed to sag a bit when her friend said that. She knew Ruby had a point and she didn’t want to deprive her of a chance to be with a guy she genuinely seemed to like. Turning back to Killian, she asked, “You really don’t mind if I stay at your place?”

“Would you be comfortable doing that?” he queried.

A shy smile crossed her face. “Yeah, I’m good with it. If you were a serial killer, I think I would have figured it out by now.”

His brows shot up. “You thought I might be a serial killer?”

“Well, you have to admit it was a little…weird for you to get my name and number from my phone.”

He scratched behind his ear again. “Aye, it wasn’t exactly my finest hour.”

She reached out and took his hand. “No big deal. I think it worked out pretty well for both of us.”

“Actually, for all of us,” Ruby pointed out. “Well, if that’s settled, we’re gonna call for an Uber. You kids have fun!”

Emma gave her friend a hug. “Be careful, Ruby. Oh, do you still want to go to the water park tomorrow?”

Ruby turned to look at Graham. “We haven’t talked about tomorrow yet. Do you have to go back to work?”

He stuck his hands deep into the front pockets of his shorts and rocked back on his heels. “I’m supposed to, but I, um, I think I’m going to call in and take the day off.” He looked over at Killian. “What are you planning to do, Mate?”

Killian rubbed vigorously between his ear and sideburn with his index finger, his eyes on the ground. “I already called this morning to put in for the day off.” He glanced up at Emma. “I hope I wasn’t being too presumptuous, but I was hoping to spend more time with you.”

HIs quiet admission made her breath catch and she took a step closer as she said, “I’m glad you did. Another day with you sounds like fun.”

“Excellent!” Ruby exclaimed. “Are you guys good with going to a water park?”

Killian and Graham looked at each other before nodding in unison. “Sounds great!” Graham said. “Did you have one in mind?”

“Which one do you recommend?” Emma asked.

“We get a discount and free parking at Volcano Bay, since we’re employees of Universal. We would be able to get discounted tickets for you, too,” Killian answered.

“That’s the one we were leaning toward, so I guess it’s settled,” Ruby said definitively. “Do you know what time it opens?”

“Nine o’clock, and it’s best to get there early so we can find a spot to put our towels,” Graham informed them.

“Emma and I will meet you at the hotel,” Killian said. “I’ll bring you a pair of swim trunks and anything else you need, Graham.”

“I’ll have to come up to the room to get my swimsuit and other things I need for the day,” Emma told Ruby. “Give me a time when you’ll be ready so I don’t walk into an awkward situation.”

“Whatevah could you be talking about?” Ruby teased, speaking in an over-exaggerated Southern belle accent and fanning herself with her hand. Graham laughed and looked at her adoringly as Emma rolled her eyes. Ruby grinned before giving Emma an answer, “Let’s see - if we need to get there early, how about eight-fifteen?”

Killian looked at Emma, who gave him a slight nod. “Sounds good,” he said.

They said their final goodbyes and Emma and Killian watched the other couple working their way through the crowd. Turning toward him, she asked, “Well, what now?”

“There are still a few shops at this end we haven’t seen yet,” Killian said. “We can check them out and then go back to Ghirardelli’s to have our dessert, if that’s what you still want to do.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

He took her hands again and looked into her eyes, imparting the sincerity behind his words. “Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have.”

She gave him a sweet smile and pushed up to her toes to press her lips to his. “I like your plan, Killian. Let’s go.”

They strolled down the sidewalk hand-in-hand toward the bridge crossing a small stream of water.

*********

It took them two more hours to explore everything the west side of Disney Springs had to offer. By that time, they were ready for something to eat and made their way back to Ghirardelli’s Ice Cream and Chocolate shop. They lingered over hot fudge sundaes, realizing as they sat there how much their feet were beginning to hurt.

“I can understand why Ruby wanted to leave early. Her feet had to be killing her in those heels!” Emma exclaimed.

“I don’t think that’s really the reason she wanted to leave,” Killian grinned.

“Yeah, well, I would rather not think about what they’re doing back at the hotel right now.” She pulled out her phone and brought up the Uber app. “I’m gonna put in a request for a car.”

“Let me do that, Emma.”

“No, you’re letting me stay at your place. The least I can do is pay for the Uber.”

When he opened his mouth to argue again, she gripped his forearm. “Please, Killian. I feel bad enough for imposing on you tonight.”

“It absolutely is not an imposition, but if it makes you feel better, go ahead.” He recited his address and she made the request.

“It’ll be here in less than ten minutes,” she said, gathering up her shopping bags. He threw away their trash, then relieved her of the bags in one of her hands so he could hold it, interlacing their fingers.

They made small talk during the twenty minute ride to his apartment, recounting their favorite parts of the day and discussing the rides and attractions they liked at the Universal and Disney parks.

When they reached his place, she took in the surroundings. It was a very large apartment complex with at least a dozen buildings, all of them seven or eight stories high and nearly identical. They seemed a little shabby with some peeling paint around the window and door frames and weeds growing along the sidewalks.

He noticed her perusal and said, “It’s nothing fancy, but the rent is reasonable and we don’t spend a lot of time here anyway. Plus, despite appearances, it’s pretty safe. No serial killers live here as far as I know…unless you count me,” he joked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She gave him a side eye glare. “Very funny!”

He chuckled and took her hand, leading her to the second building on their right. Taking his key out, he unlocked the entrance door which opened into a small lobby. “Our apartment is on the third floor. Do you want to take the stairs or the elevator?”

“My feet vote for the elevator.”

Grinning, he led her straight down the hallway, punching the button when they reached the doors. They both fidgeted during the slow ascent, their nerves beginning to show as they thought about being together all night.

As they exited and started down the dimly lit hallway, Emma said, “I really am sorry about this. Ruby should have made other arrangements to be with Graham.”

He turned to face her, bringing his free hand up to brush his knuckles against her cheek. “It truly is no problem, Emma. I enjoy your company very much and am quite happy to be able to spend more time with you.”

“In all honesty, I’m glad it turned out this way, too. It will be nice to get comfortable, relax, talk a bit and get to know you better,” she said, biting her lip with a shy smile.

He returned her smile with a soft one of his own before unlocking the door and ushering her inside. Flipping on the light, he said, “Apologies for the mess. Like I said, Graham and I aren’t home very much, so we don’t do a lot of cleaning.”

Emma looked around the space, taking in the kitchen where they were standing. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink, but the countertops were clean and uncluttered. The living room just beyond also appeared to be fairly tidy. “It looks good to me. I swear I can’t find our couch half the time under all of Ruby’s clothes.”

“What can I get you to drink? We have beer, rum, Coke, Mountain Dew, milk or water.”

“A rum and coke sounds good. I thought about getting one last night when you were drinking them, but I didn’t think it would mix well with those tropical drinks I had.”

“No, probably not. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”

She took the shopping bags from him and went into the living room. Sitting down on the sofa, she looked around, taking in the sparse furnishings and lack of decor. He had said they were just finishing out a lease for a friend, so it made sense that they didn’t have any personal touches in the space.

Killian soon joined her, handing her a drink in a plastic cup with the Florida Tech logo on it. “We don’t have any glasses,” he explained.

“No problem. I know how it feels to be a poor college student.” She accepted the drink and took a tentative sip. “Nice. Not too strong.”

He sat down beside her and picked up the remote from the arm of the sofa. “Would you like to watch something?”

“What are the choices?”

“We have YouTube TV, AppleTV+ and Netflix.”

“How about a movie?”

He flicked on the television and asked, “Comedy, adventure, horror, romcom…?”

“You would watch a romcom?” she giggled.

“I’m not ashamed to admit that I do enjoy a good romcom now and then, Swan,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s your idea of a good one?”

“Um, let’s see… The Proposal, You’ve Got Mail, While You Were Sleeping, Miss Congenialty, The Lake House…”

“I honestly wouldn’t call The Lake House a romcom, but I love that movie and haven’t seen it in a long time. Is it on Netflix?”

“Let’s take a look.” He brought up the menu and began typing letters into the search bar.

“There it is!” Emma said, when he had entered the first five letters. He scrolled down and clicked on the title. “Oh, good! They do have it! I’ll be able to get my Keanu fix.”

“And I’ll get my Sandra fix,” he countered.

She almost spat out the drink she had just taken. “Touché. Seems we both like watching pretty people.”

He turned to look at her fully. “I certainly do, and I’ve been lucky enough to look at a very pretty person for two days now.”

��Are you talking about Ruby or Graham?” she teased.

He set his drink on the floor, then took her hands in his. “I’m talking about you, Emma. My first thought when I saw you yesterday was that I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you, and the more time we spend together, the more convinced I am of that fact.”

She blushed and dropped her gaze, but he used his fingers to lift her chin. When she raised her eyes to meet his once again, she was nearly floored by the soft sincerity she saw within the brilliant blue depths. He leaned toward her and she readily met his lips, sighing into the kiss contentedly.

He scooted closer and enveloped her in his arms, sliding his mouth along her jaw and down her throat, darting his tongue out to taste her silky skin. Her hands spread out across his back as she craned her neck, desiring more of his hot, open-mouthed kisses. “Killian…” she gasped.

“Mmhmm?” he hummed, sucking gently on her pulse point.

“We…we should probably…s-slow down a little bit.”

His tongue swiped lightly over the mark he just made, before he pulled back reluctantly.

“I’m sorry, Swan…”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. I…I really like you, Killian, but…”

“But we’ve only known each other a couple of days and it’s moving a little too fast?”

She caressed the nape of his neck with her fingertips. “Yeah, something like that. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“About you or about what’s happening between us?”

She chewed her lip as she contemplated. “I guess a little of both. To be honest, I don’t date very often. I got burnt by a guy I was with for a few months my Freshman year in college, and it made me pretty leery of men in general. With you, though, I don’t know, it feels…different. Like there’s something there I haven’t felt before, and it’s…in a way it feels good, but it’s also a little scary.”

He wrapped his arm around her and eased her against his chest, nestling her head under his chin. “I don’t want you to be scared, Emma. I don’t date a lot either, and I know none of this has been conventional, but I’m glad you gave me a chance. I don’t take that lightly. You could have considered me a stalker and blocked my number after what I did, and I wouldn’t have blamed you at all; so having the opportunity to get to know you has been a privilege for me. I just wish we had more time together.”

They sat quietly as the seconds stretched on, his hand running soothingly over her back as she closed her eyes and breathed him in. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft, he had to strain to hear her.

“I…I have something to tell you, Killian.”

The hesitance he heard made his heart pound. Licking his lips nervously, he asked, “You, uh…you’re not going to tell me you’re married or something, are you?”

The sound of her giggle helped him relax a little. She pulled back just enough to look up into his face. “No, nothing like that. Remember when you said your brother and uncle work at Boston Harbor?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Ruby and I…we actually live in Boston.”

He blinked several times as realization set in. “Are you bloody kidding me?”

She flinched slightly, not sure whether he was angry or just surprised. “Um, no. We live in South Boston.”

A grin slowly spread across his face. “Liam and my uncle Nemo live in that area of the city, too,” he said excitedly.

She breathed a small sigh of relief, then realized the implications of what he just said. “When you visit them, we will be able to see each other!”

His smile got bigger. “I’ll do you one better. I’m moving there the second week of August to attend Boston University for my master’s program.”

She jumped to her feet. “Killian, that’s…oh my gosh! Seriously?”

“Yep, and Graham is moving there, too. He’s going into training to become a park ranger.”

“Ruby is gonna be ecstatic! I wonder if Graham will tell her tonight?”

“I could be wrong, but I doubt if there will be a whole lot of talking going on between those two tonight.”

Emma laughed and sank back down to the couch. “You’re probably right about that.” She picked up her drink and took a sip. “I bet you’ll be happy to live closer to your family.”

“Aye, and to my best friend and his girl, who also live in Boston. I expect them to get married before too long. They just found out a month or so ago that they’re expecting a baby. David is beside himself with excitement. He and Mary Margaret are like the perfect couple.”

Emma drew back to look at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard? You know them?”

He looked puzzled. “Well, yes? How do you know them?”

“Mary Margaret was our roommate at college!”

It was his turn for his eyes to bug out. “Wait - she’s the one you keep calling M’s?”

“Yeah! We’ve always called her that! Mary Margaret is way too much of a mouthful to say, especially when we’ve had too much to drink!” Emma laughed.

He ran a hand through his hair. “This is incredible! I can’t believe we have so many connections to each other!”

“I know!” They stared at each other, absolutely dumbfounded. Emma grinned in delight. “As the song goes, it’s a small world after all.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Please don’t get that song stuck in my head!”

She giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and began singing it teasingly.

“Swan…” he growled, lunging for her. “I just told you not to sing that!”

She laughed and spun away from his grasping hands, scooting to the far end of the couch. “Why don’t you come over here and make me stop?” she challenged, before continuing to sing.

He finally caught her in his arms and tried to cover her mouth with his hand, but she batted it away without missing a note. Then he began tickling her, but still she kept singing through her laughter. “Now you’re asking for it, Swan,” he warned before his lips covered her mouth.

The singing stopped as she sighed with pleasure instead, her fingers running through his hair. His tongue explored the warmth of her mouth for many long moments before he briefly pulled away. She took a second to catch her breath, then started to sing again. “I guess I’ll just have to keep your mouth occupied,” he murmured, his voice low and gruff. Dipping his head, he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, prompting a moan from her.

“Are you going to stop?” he whispered.

“I will if you keep kissing me,” she promised.

She felt him grin against her lips. “I think that can definitely be arranged.” Where his kisses had been playful just moments before, now they were soft and sensual, his tongue sliding against hers sending shivers of pleasure down her spine.

He had his hands planted on either side of her on the couch, trying to keep his weight off of her, and she ran her hands up the strong cords of his forearms and past his elbows to his biceps. The combination of feeling his toned muscles under her fingertips and his talented tongue working its magic had her yearning for more than just kisses.

When her brain caught up with where her body was headed, she gathered every bit of her self-control to break the connection between their lips. “M-maybe we should…watch the movie?” she stammered, her voice sounding wrecked to her own ears.

He dropped his forehead to rest against hers. “I did it again, didn’t I?” he mumbled remorsefully.

Placing her hands on both sides of his face, she encouraged him to look at her. “Please don’t be sorry, Killian. You…god, you’re very good at kissing! I just…I’ve got to keep myself from doing something I might regret later. I don’t want to ruin what seems to be the start of a good thing and I…I…just really suck at explaining things, don’t I?”

He sat up and took her hand to pull her to a sitting position beside him. “Emma, I don’t want to do anything that would make you feel pressured or uncomfortable, and I apologize for pushing things too far. You’re just…irresistible.”

“It wasn’t your fault. In case you didn’t notice, I was kissing you, too.”

“Oh, I noticed, believe me,” he grinned, then grew serious again. “I agree that this feels like the beginning of something good, Emma, and I don’t want to mess it up either. How about if we get into our pajamas, grab a snack, watch the movie, and go to bed?”

“Sounds good.”

“Would you like to borrow one of my T-shirts to sleep in?”

“If you don’t mind. You wouldn’t happen to have any yoga pants, would you?”

“No,” he chuckled, “but I can give you a pair of my athletic shorts. If you pull the drawstring tight enough, they might work.”

Killian hopped up from the couch and headed into what she assumed to be his bedroom. He emerged a few minutes later wearing red shorts and a plain white T-shirt, and carrying a band T-shirt and a pair of black shorts, which he tossed to her.

She held up the shirt to read it. “The Eagles?”

“Are you mocking my choice of music, Swan?”

“Not at all. I love the Eagles!”

“Alright, then. You’re allowed to stay,” he said with a smirk and a lifted brow.

She rolled her eyes as she got up from the couch. “Where can I change?”

He led her in the same direction as his bedroom, but pointed to the room across from it. “This is Graham’s room. I can’t guarantee how clean it is, but he’s not usually too messy. As you can see, the bathroom is straight ahead. The towels and washcloths are in the cupboard above the toilet if you’d like to take a shower tonight or in the morning.”

“Thanks. I’ll go ahead and take one now, if you don’t mind. I want to make sure I shower before going to a waterpark, and there’s no guarantee I’ll wake up in time to take one in the morning.” She went into Graham’s room and shut the door, while he collected their cups from the living room and took them to the kitchen to refresh their drinks.

He was just pulling a bag of popcorn out of the microwave when Emma joined him after her shower, dressed in the shirt and shorts. “I appreciate you letting me borrow your clothes, Killian.”

He nodded his head in acknowledgement. “No problem. I must say, they look far better on you than they do on me.”

She gave him a lopsided smile and plucked a piece of popcorn out of the bag, tossing it into her mouth. He poured the rest of the contents into a large plastic bowl and asked, “Do you think this is enough, or should I fix another bag?”

“I’m not terribly hungry after the ice cream we had, so that should be enough.”

“Okay. Can you grab the drinks, please?”

They settled onto the sofa, sitting close beside one another, and Killian started the movie. Midway through, the popcorn and their drinks were completely gone and Emma was snuggled into his side, his fingers playing with the end of her braid. “I should have taken that out,” she remarked.

“May I?” he asked.

“Um, sure.” She leaned up and turned halfway so it was easier for him to reach.

He gently pulled the elastic band from the end of the braid and handed it to her, then began sliding his fingers between the strands of the plait. Working slowly, he carefully untangled all the snarls.

“Your hair is so beautiful,” he commented, continuing to comb his fingers through it, “like waves of gold.”

“Thank you,” she said, color tingeing her cheeks at his compliment. She leaned into him and he stopped his ministrations to wrap his arm around her, kissing the crown of her head.

When the movie ended, Emma stood up and stretched. “What time is it?”

He checked his phone. “Almost eleven.”

She yawned, then bent down to collect their empty cups. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said, picking up the bowl and pushing to his feet. “I can take those to the kitchen. If you want to brush your teeth, there should be an extra toothbrush in the right drawer. You can use the toothpaste that’s in there, too.”

“Thanks,” she said, placing the cups inside the bowl in his hands.

When she was finished in the bathroom, she opened the door just as he was coming out of his bedroom, colliding with him. “I’ve really got to be more careful when I’m coming out of the bathroom,” she laughed.

He took the opportunity to wrap her up in a hug. “I can’t say as I mind.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “I don’t either.”

Their lips met in a tender, languid kiss. His hands moved into her hair, tilting her head to allow him better access. Hers slid around his waist and up the planes of his back, the soft fabric of his T-shirt tickling her fingertips.

Neither was in a hurry for it to end, but the necessity to take a deep breath finally drove them apart. “Goodnight, Killian,” she whispered against his lips.

“Goodnight, Emma. Sleep well.”

She pulled away from him and turned to go into Graham’s room. Before closing the door, she stopped to look at him over her shoulder with a sweet smile on her face.

He stood there for several moments, staring at the closed door with his fingertips tracing his lips, remembering the warmth she had sent through him with her kiss and how very right she felt in his arms.

*********

Thanks for reading, liking, reblogging and leaving comments. Every time you do, I’m a very happy writer!

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#csff #one thrill ride leads to another #jrob64 #chapter update #chapter 3 #cs fanfiction #captain swan fan fiction #fluff and eventual smut #CS modern AU #amusement park workers #emma and ruby on vacation #a birthday story for Marta

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

earned it (3)

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. mentions of murder, explicit smut, oral (m. receiving), mentions of violence, TW dub-con, drama, drugs, mentions of virginity loss, dirty talk, unedited as always

series masterlist

Pained groans filled your ears, coating the dead silent night. Immediately, you sprang up awake, finding your husband clutching his knee beside you. You rushed to the bathroom to prepare an iced compress, helping him sit beside the bed. Naoya breathed heavily above you, his usually slicked back hair falling into soft bangs above his eyes. In this light, the fierceness of his face had smoothened down into that of vulnerability, fox-eyes replaced with a sort of tenderness that partnered his pain.

Looking down at the ragged scar running down his thigh to his knee, the gnarly scar popped from his otherwise flawless skin, you ran your hands over it. Naoya sighed as you kissed the scar gently, rubbing soothing circles over his good knee.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted. Both of you enjoyed the comfortable silence after that, with you kneeling on the floor as you helped numb his pain, your husband’s fingers looped through yours. Minutes passed and soon, the sunlight streaked behind him from the floor length glass windows, illuminating your dark silhouettes in a golden glow. Naoya’s eyes flickered to the clock on your table, his hands squeezing yours for a fleeting moment. “It’s today. Are you ready?”

No, you wanted to say. You and him had prepared for this moment better than anyone else, and yet, you couldn’t ignore the tightening of your chest. Much like Naoya, you both held wounds that couldn’t be healed by time.

But Naoya looked at you expectantly, soft hands cupping your face as if he immediately read the worry written all over you.

You wanted to cry, wanted to stay in his arms and pretend nothing would go wrong, but you couldn’t do it. Not when he’d saved you countless of times before, and this was your only chance of saving him.

Naoya needed you more than ever – you had to stay strong from him.

“As long as you’re there, I’ll be ready for anything,” you smiled at him, feeling warmth spread all over your chest when he reciprocated the gesture. You liked it on him; he always felt a lot more youthful every time he smiled. Reaching up to kiss his forehead, you trailed your lips down to the ring adorning his fingers to look him straight in the eye. “Always?”

Naoya nodded as a promise, “Forever.”

Your hands treaded through Satoru’s locks, his lips sweet and tender as he tasted you. It had been a few months since your arrangement began, and slowly but surely, little by little, you were growing more comfortable with him. There was still that voice at the back of your head screaming that maybe this was wrong, this was dangerous; you didn’t know him very well – but these thoughts slipped away the moment you felt his lips on yours.

If it was wrong, why did you fit in his arms so right? He felt like home; peaceful, secure, strong and stable. If it was dangerous, why was your heart at peace? If you didn’t know him very well, why did it feel like had always been there, a fragment you’d been unknowingly waiting to build you up in all those lonely years you walked this earth?

You’d definitely underestimated him. The cocky and smooth customer turned out to be the most caring person ever, his kindness showing through the fact he’d never pushed you for anything.

Making out with him was now a daily occurrence, though you never got past the first base. Sure, there would be teasing touches under your shirt, your curious hands trailing over his pants, but it had never escalated into more than that. You could tell Satoru was holding back; the painful tent in his slacks enough proof of this. His hardened cock rubbed against the thin material of your shorts as you grinded against him, earning a harmonious man from the man who’d gotten so addicted to worshipping you.

“Satoru, hmm, baby,” you stopped kissing him, turning to look at where his hands gripped at the flesh of your thighs. A thin thread of spit connected your lips from your heavy make out session, though your mind felt dazed, core burning at the friction. If you could just...

Satoru easily caught on the words bit down your tongue, his calloused hands caressing your cheek to coax it out of you. “What is it, angel?”

“I…Can I try something with you?”

“What is it?” he tapped your cheek, a sweet smile on his face when you groaned in embarrassment, head buried in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay, don’t be shy.”

“Well, you’re always making me feel good and I know you’re holding back so I just wanted to…”

“Wanted to what, angel?” he pulled you back so he could look at your face, his usual teasing grin now hardened into a serious expression. Satoru had always been adamant to put your comfort above all else, his voice dropping an octave lower as he massaged your thigh. “I can’t know if you won’t tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, you managed to look him in the eye, squeaking out, “I want to make you feel good too.”

Satoru’s brows dipped down. “Angel,” he said, that saccharine nickname dripping like honey from his lips. Did he even know how much effect he had over your heart? Apparently not, because Satoru swooped down to steal your breath away, pressing his lips harder to reassure you he respected your limits. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you insisted, hands fisted on his shirt. “Want to taste you.”

Satoru opened his mouth to speak, but you were faster, and for the first time in his life, he did not see something coming. His back hit the wooden headboard as you crawled down on his lap, tugging his pants down to palm the erection bulging from his boxers. His groans were deeply masculine, so fucking sexy coming from him that you rubbed your core against the sheets in desperate search for friction.

Your hands fumbled for his boxers until you completely pulled it down, gasping when his thick member slapped at his toned stomach. His muscles clenched above you, thighs quaking from your ministrations.

Truthfully, you had not the slightest idea of why he seemed so aroused when you were inexperienced at this. You had to keep sending him nervous glances as you placed a tentative grip at the base, thumb swiping the pre-cum away from his tip. Satoru’s head fell back on the pillows, strings of curses spilling past his lips. Fuck, you had no idea how to do this; you just hoped it could be good for him. Deciding to hell with it, you slipped the throbbing member inside your lips, his reaction reflexive.

Satoru fisted the sheets under him, hips thrusting up. The action caused him to buck deep into your mouth until he hit the back of your threat, tears springing at your eyes. You wanted to pull out to breathe until you looked at Satoru, and fuck, did your mind change.

“Goddamn, angel!”

Your boyfriend looked absolutely delectable like this – shirt crumpled and eyes snapped shut from the pleasure. His cock burned in your mouth, and purely out of curiosity, you swirled your tongue around his vein just to see his reaction. Satoru’s blown out pupils met yours the deeper you took him in, his arm reaching out to fist at your hair. It wasn’t painful – he never hurt you even if sometimes you wished he could go a little rougher – but you were determined to evoke more of those pretty moans from him, fighting back the tears that blurred him from your sight.

Your throat would burn like a bitch by the end of this, though that no longer mattered when his composed self fell apart bit by bits. Gosh, you loved him so much; you could keep him in your mouth forever if that could express it.

Satoru moaned the instant you hollowed your cheeks around him, pushing his hands away that moved to hold you. You didn’t want to be romantic; you just wanted to make him cum.

He saw your determination to push you over the edge that he let go, slipping his fingers through yours instead. It shouldn’t have felt so domestic when you sucked him off good, but nothing had never felt more right. You pulled him off with a pop, licking all around the base to coat his cock with his cum and drool. His groans painted the room and he wouldn’t stop squirming underneath you, dulcet low moans so, so addicting.

Other than his moans, you were also addicted by the taste of him. You flipped your head at a different angle before you took him in again, flattening your tongue on the base and making sure to poke hard on the veins. He had a fucked out grin as his knees bucked beside him, his hands keeping you flat on his head.

“Yeah, angel,” he gritted his teeth, “That’s so fucking good.”

Was he coming?

You had no idea, having never done this before. For now, you just wanted to repay all the kindness he’d shown you by sucking him off good that he’d never forget you. You probably cursed him then, conditioned this man into being so addicted to you that he would never even think about leaving.

The mere thought of that had you choking on his cock, driving him back deep your throat. Your nose came in contact with the neatly trimmed hairs on his base as you gagged on his length, nails dug deep into the linen sheets beside you.

One thrust, two more – his cock twitched, then he came. “Right there, angel, fuck!” he spilled inside you, pulling out just in time for the rest to smatter all across your face. You drew back just as his semen painted your face like he was the artist and you were the canvas, and you didn’t think you’d ever felt so majestic in your life. Satoru gripped his cock to smear the contents all over your face, on that day giving you a hint just how much of a kinky little shit he really was, but you let him – because you loved him, and you’d do anything for the one you loved. As you sat there licking away the cum sprayed on your face, he tugged you upwards for a kiss.

You leaned away, thinking he could be disgusted by the bitter taste flowing down your throat, but he paid no mind. He kissed you hard and deep, effortlessly flipping both your bodies until were trapped underneath him, cornered by the love pooling in his eyes. You stared up at him with that same adoration, albeit more hesitant, the pounding in your heart incredibly loud.

You were falling fast – way too fast – that you couldn’t comprehend what would happen if this ended. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you were still just a baby girl? Were you mistaking his post orgasm bliss with something else, were you getting too ahead of yourself?

Satoru nudged his chin on your neck, his lips hovering right before your ear. You could hear each ragged breath, your attention zeroed in on the deep, long cut that ran on his back. Not really aware of your actions, you slipped your hand downwards to trace the ragged flesh. Satoru hissed above you, his weight nearly crushing yours as he pulled you in for an embrace far too intimate for an agreement purely on casual fucks and company.

At least, that had been your belief, until – “I think…I’m falling for you.”

You didn’t remember any time you had cried harder, the sobs wreaking your chest desperate and pitiful. Satoru kissed your tears away, each peck of his lips translating to a thousand more i love you’s that healed every crack in your soul.

You held him close then, chest to chest, hearts beating above one another. Perhaps it was too early, but you loved him – excruciatingly so it scared you deep to the bone.

“Me too,” you cried, “I love you – I love you, I—”

“Shh, angel,” he cooed, his hands now trailing down your hips. He gripped at it, his cock once again hard as it teased your entrance. You knew what was to come next, and you squeezed his bicep in anticipation, both fear and anticipation exploding through your nerves. Satoru gazed at you warmly as he read the multiple thoughts running in your head, foreheads pressed into one another as he asked, “Can I show you? Do you trust me, angel?”

“Yes,” you answered in a beat, “A million times yes.”

“I’ll show you then,” he laced his fingers through yours, a lopsided grin so impossibly handsome you just fell harder for him. “I’ll show you how much I love you. I’ll make you feel it deep ‘til you never think about anyone else but me.”

Had he failed then? Had he not shown you enough how much he loved you?

You were the same, but the person standing in front of him seemed so impossible to be you, as well. Your once sweet smile had been replenished by a perfectly practiced one, the taut tightness of your lips and the faux charm so sickeningly sweet.

But it wasn’t what he hated the most. It was the fact he was there, holding you right where Satoru once used to, kissing you right on the lips Satoru used to ravish all by himself.

He didn’t know what he was feeling. Anger? Jealousy? Hatred – upon himself or upon you?

He didn’t know, couldn’t understand anything, that he brushed past Suguru’s equally stupefied face and found comfort in the back part of the cruise. Satoru had lost count of the drinks he’d taken from the waiters who had began to look worried, but he didn’t give a fuck. The image of you comfortably situated by that bastard’s side of all people stirred something dark within his chest. Satoru stared out into the dark ocean instead, dumping his drinks with a scoff.

What a fucking joke, he laughed at himself. He believed leaving you would mean protecting you, but life had a funny way of playing its part.

“Mr. Gojo,” an all-too familiar voice, one that was much too sweet and golden for his liking, caught his attention. His eyes slid over to your form, his jaw clenched at how empty your eyes seemed. There was no spark, not a trace of the light he had always loved, and not a sliver of warmth that never failed to melt his heart. It almost felt like it wasn’t you until your perfectly manicured nails rested atop his shoulder, all elegance and grace in your steps – just as he’d expected from the infamous Zen’in wife. “My husband, Naoya, wishes to speak to you.”

Husband. So you really married him.

You spun away from him with a salacious roll of your hips, and just like that, Satoru snapped. This was you, this had to be you – except it scared him shitless this time around because you were the one walking away from him.

It reminded him of the day he left you, dread sinking deep into the pits of his stomach. Satoru reached you in two long strides, spinning you around until you nearly collided on his chest. You glared at him so harshly he might’ve burned to the ground but god, this really was you and he fucking missed you – so badly that his suit felt impossibly tight he couldn’t breathe. You were still warm against him, soft in the places he was hard, and you were, you were there.

You came back to him.

“Angel,” his voice cracked, “I know that’s you, please—”

But your grip was ice-cold, eyes shooting daggers at the offensive hand on your shoulder. “Let go of me before I shoot your arm off, Mr. Gojo,” you sneered at him, the tension attracting the attention of other guests. Satoru could feel it; the burning gaze of passerby’s who’d stopped in their chatter to spectate the scene. “Just because you are invited, doesn’t mean you get to be too comfortable with me. You and I are not friends, much less acquaintances. Let me go.”

It’s over, his own voice screamed back at him, Let’s go.

Right. He left you, and it made sense you couldn’t stand to be around him. With a broken heart, he removed his hands on you, ignoring the slight scoff following afterwards. Satoru trailed after you like an obedient puppy as you led him inside a narrow hallway, unsurprised as two burly guards slid the double doors open.

Inside the grand room sat your husband himself, his good leg perched on top of his bad one. He was in the middle of his drink, cockily clanking the ice against the glass. His cane perched on the other side of the sofa, just out of it’s owners reach.

Satoru wanted to punch his stupid face but held back as you quickly seated beside him, possessive hands on top of his thighs. He took the seat across the both of you, his lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by the turn of events. Though the ocean reflecting the beauty of the moonlight gleamed terribly divine that night, and you illuminated even more radiantly than ever, Satoru felt no entertainment, no joy – just pure hatred.

“Gojo Satoru, the Six Eyes himself. It’s an honour to meet you.”

“You met me before,” he responded stiffly, expecting that Naoya would crack the same way his fucked up father would. But no, he was by far worse, the young man tipping his head back in laughter as if Satoru said the funniest thing.

Beside him, you buried yourself deeper into his arms, absentmindedly sniffing Naoya’s perfume before your shoulders visibly relaxed.

It was clear you trusted this man with your whole heart, though Satoru couldn’t make sense of the attachment. Why him? How did you meet him? Was it right after he left you? How did you wound up in the world he tried so hard to keep you away from? On reflex, Satoru’s need to protect you never wavered even after years, and his gaze trailed down each inch of your exposed skin to look for scars.

Nothing. Not even a single sratch.

And as if feeling his gaze on yours, you smirked back at him smugly, that damned smile reminding him that your husband was more than capable of – what he couldn’t do – protecting you. It was such a harsh slap to his face because Satoru was most evidently the most powerful man in the room; he had more connections, had been in this world long before he walked, had more experience and bloodlust than anyone else, and yet...he couldn’t keep you.

“Indeed, and it wasn’t such a great experience, was it?” Naoya’s voice kept droning on, waving a slender hand in the air. “This is what this party is for. I hope to alleviate any tensions my father may have caused between other clans,” he nodded at the untouched drink in front of Satoru, “Please, enjoy yourself. I only wish to discuss something about Xenet with you.”

“Xenet? You mean the drug your family tried so hard to keep to yourselves?”

“Yes, that. My father…was too prideful with his creations. He didn’t want to share what was his,” Naoya smirked to himself and leaned back into the chair, with you following the motion. Satoru fisted the couch so hard he might as well break it, unable to tear his eyes away from the comfortable way you rested on Naoya’s chest, blinking up innocently at him as you did so. Your husband paid you no mind, seemingly way too used by your affectionate gestures that he continued, “But I am not my father. I care about good connections and profitable business. I think if you’d let us borrow your manufacturing base in Osaka, we could supply you with Xenet to last a decade. Free of interest.”

“And what makes you think I want to have your little drug? It’s just an ecstasy pill.”

“That’s what we want you think,” you piped in, keeping your gaze averted from Satoru’s, shooting little kisses down your husband’s jaw instead. “Xenet is no ordinary drug. It was made with the intention of just making more bougee version of aphrodisiacs and poppers at first, but we found a much more…offensive approach to this,” you trailed off, eyes glistening with mischief.

It was alien – the look on you didn’t feel right. You had changed; his angel was no more.

“Xenet, once manufactured publicly, could even help us grow richer with how affordable it is. Other than the side effects of increased sexual drive and giddiness, it’s also strong enough to be a ticking time bomb,” you announced proudly, “Consume two a day and you might die from a heart attack.”

“So it’s a failed pill.”

Your eyes narrowed at his implications, reminding him that even though you may no longer be his, one thing had not changed: you were still that top student in your Chemistry class. How else could you have saved him from getting poisoned on that day? But now, you used your intelligence differently, marrying mafia leaders, creating drugs.

“I did not create failures.”

Satoru should hate it. Hell, it was wiser to steer clear from you, yet you’d never been more alluring. Your innocence and vulnerability from when you were younger had definitely aroused him in more ways than one, his mind often occupied with the different ways he could get you to cry for him. However, this version of you, the one who had risen from the ashes and flew around like a magnificent surrounded by your own burning flames – it would be a lie to say he did not find himself fascinated by your maturity.

Seven years really changed you.

“You mean to tell me,” he leaned forward, “That you’re basically asking to borrow my base so you can make suicide pills? Is that it?”

“Xenet is only dangerous when consumed in larger doses. But taken regularly, it actually boosts your health, clears your mind. It’s like a super vitamin. It makes you feel…well, on the top of the world. Makes you feel powerful.”

“Death is not the catch,” Satoru concluded from Naoya’s lilting tone, glaring at suspicious man who was staring at his drink in so much glee. He really was fucked in the head – what did you like about this guy?

“What’s your true reason behind this?”

“I want my relatives dead,” Naoya deadpanned, “Before we turned to illegal business, the clan stocks were debated to be passed either to me, or my cousin, Toji. He’s changed his name to Fushiguro now and even had a kid, but he can’t hide forever,” he lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug, and finally, Satoru started to see glimpses of Naoya’s psychotic father through his eyes. Naoya grinned at nowhere in particular, rubbing his hand over the matching rings you wore, the sinister grin he wore uncannily similar to something Satoru had witnessed years before, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. “He’s not going to take what’s mine.”

Satoru scoffed, “Why do you think I would be interested in your family issues?”

“Because that cousin of mine is the only one who’s ever gotten successfully close into killing you,” Naoya snickered, “Remember? Shibuya, 2007? He was still inexperienced that time too. We don’t know how powerful he is now.”

“That fucker went after me for no reason.”

“Money is always his reason,” Naoya explained, “You see, my father was not the real clan leader. It was Toji’s father, my uncle, but he died of lung cancer and my father invited himself to the throne. He wanted everything to be ours, so he kicked my cousin out, leaving him nameless and penniless on the street. He was desperate to survive and—”

“—and became an assassin instead,” Satoru finished for him, to which both you and your husband nodded. You were taking your trophy wife duty seriously; keeping in mind to never interrupt your husband as he spoke. Satoru did his best to not pay too much mind to you, focusing on the looming threat of Toji Fushiguro present. “Let me guess, he was sent to kill me, failed miserably, and now he’s after your money? Why would he be interested in taking the mafia business when he seems fine enough being a hitman?” Satoru urged, “He looked like he enjoyed it.”

Much to Satoru’s surprise, Naoya slammed his glass down on the table, slapping his knee as he howled in laughter. “You are really as humorous as they say, Mr. Gojo.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“Because from what I heard, Toji did not fail miserably,” you mumbled through Naoya’s neck, that grin of yours mocking as your lips trailed down his skin. “The scars on your back – you almost died that day if you weren’t saved by your guards, didn’t you?”

Oh, Satoru mused, two could play this game.

“And how’d you know I have scars on my back, sweetheart?”

Knowing he had you cornered, you scowled. You turned away from him and clutched Naoya’s biceps to soothe your wounded pride, but Satoru knew he’d most definitely hit a nerve. It was low, utterly petty of him, to be exact – but he didn’t care. Right now, his determination to win you over just grows stronger, but Naoya merely chuckled at your exchange, the fucker maintaining his eye contact with Satoru’s while kissing the top of your head.

“Darling. Don’t get too worked up. He’s a friend now.”

“Said who?”

“Said me,” he announced confidently, “My cousin may be ruthless, but he’s not as heartless as I am. He’ll do anything he can to sneak his son within the family ranks and make him clan leader. Toji may be fine living in the streets, but he wouldn’t want the same fate for his son,” Naoya rolled his eyes boredly, “He loved his pathetic wife so much that he’s burdening himself with the promise of securing their child’s future. He’s not going to stop until he finds me.”

“And where do I fall into all this?”

“Toji can’t kill me,” Naoya brought to light, and Satoru noticed the faint change in your face. You looked grim, empty faced from anxiety. “Nearly 40% of our all our money – including where our gold is stored – you do remember stealing that, don’t you?” Satoru shook his head, too distracted by your sudden silence. “You made the mistake of taking what was not yours, Mr. Gojo. It may have been just a disposable slush fund to you, but everything that account had, those were all Toji’s last remnants of his wife before she died. He kept all those money for his family, and you took it away from him,” Naoya leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, smiling through the drink he downed in one go. The sound of the glass setting down on the table was much similar to a final judgement – the dilemma hitting Satoru right in the face.

“Now unless you cooperate with us, I can’t guarantee you’ll be living for the next ten days. He’s in Tokyo right now, and from word on the streets, he’s looking for the Six Eyes.”

“I don’t have that money with me.”

“Right, because you transferred it to my wife seven years ago, right?” At his words, Satoru froze, peering at you for confirmation. However, you’d made yourself smaller, almost shaking while different memories replayed right before your eyes. Satoru wanted to come and wrap you in his arms, to tell you it’s okay because he couldn’t understand why you were trembling so much, but Naoya’s taunting felt too loud and clear. “You wouldn’t want her to die now, would you? It’s going to be a tragic story of Romeo and Juliet, two fallen lovers sharing their last breaths,” he added bitterly, “That account wasn’t activated, you fucker. Everything may be wired to her, but she can’t open it unless you complete the authentication. Now do everything I ask of you and—”

“Naoya,” you finally snapped, “Don’t.”

“Is it true?” Satoru pressed, feeling his heart crush harder in his chest. “You never got the money?”

Your face said it all. “I didn’t.” So it was all for nothing – Satoru had left everything for naught. This whole time, he thought he was doing the right thing, but it was nothing, fucking nothing, utterly useless.

He left you for no valid reason.

“Why my drug base of all places?”

“It’s the biggest running establishment. Besides, you’re a lot more influential and richer than I am. No one would dare step a foot inside while I take over the business, hm?” Naoya challenged, “Xenet’s side effects also include languidness that leads to submission. I simply want to have more control over my people.”

“You’re going to manipulate this entire fucking country.” It wasn’t a question – Satoru had really made sure this guy was fucked in the head, and he thought he was awful.

“I’m not that different from my cousin,” Naoya retorted, “We’d both do anything for money.”

“And you’re using your wife as a pawn to your sick game?”

Naoya remained unaffected by Satoru slamming his palms down on the table, standing in his full height in an attempt to intimidate him. However, your husband merely raised a brow, taunting him with a smirk. “Was I the one who caused her hell all these years by making her a target to all your rivals?”

Things escalated faster than you saw it. One moment, you were cuddled with your husband, the next, Satoru had him by the collar. Naoya refused to show the pain from when his bad knee bumped into the table, enraging the taller man with his endless goading of how Satoru threw you to the side for nothing, calling him useless, pathetic, weak. You stood in front of both of them and pushed Satoru hard enough he fell back into the seat, glaring at you from where he fell. “That’s enough!” you bellowed, protectively encasing Naoya in your arms to steady him. His grimace told you he was in a lot more pain than he let on, and you snatched his cane to the side, screaming at Satoru with so much anger it shook the walls. “Fuck you, Gojo! You need to leave!”

“You’re fucking sick,” he spat at Naoya, “You’re a thousand times worse than your old man. You’re just using her to protect yourself, you fucking coward—”

Your palm resonating with his cheek stung. Satoru was rendered silent from the burning sensation on his face, the flesh still hoarse while you shook in anger. “Don’t you fucking dare speak to him like that.”

“Why are you with this guy?”

“As opposed to being with you?” your anger thundered, “You need to leave, Satoru. I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“Escort him out,” said Naoya as he caressed his knee from the couch. His voice did wonders in calming you down, those three simple words for him regulating your breathing. As if a switch had been flipped inside you, you grew demure, exchanging a thousand words with your husband in just one glance. “You and I will talk later.”

Just like that, you gripped Satoru by the arm and pushed him out the door. He would’ve been happy by your touch, but your nails dug so deep in his suit he actually hissed.

You both didn’t talk until he’s made it through the speedboat that he came in, Suguru already giving you privacy with his back turned. Not that it would change Satoru’s behaviour much because he’s weakened by you again, eyes pleading as he caught your wrist. “Angel,” he whispered, his demeanor far too pitiful for a powerful man like him. Only you – only you could make him this way. “Are you really happy with him?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you answered, effectively breaking Satoru for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Because he loved you, and with loving you came knowing you – he knew there was no lie behind your statement. “I’ve had a taste of hell before, and now I’ve found bliss in my heaven.”

“You’re lying,” he tried to convince himself, shaking his head to get rid of the pathetic tears. “That’s not true, you said you loved me – that’s our promise, right? I’ll get you back, angel. I’ll protect you this time around I – I’ll do everything I wasn’t able to do before. Please. I need you back.”

“Good luck with that, Gojou,” you smiled, but nothing about is happy. In fact, you looked hopelessly, perhaps just as devastated as him. “Time is ticking. One of us is going to die soon.”

It had been three long gruesome days since that fucking cruise party. You were glad to have finally returned home – and yes, you did have a happy home now – but it just felt different when the spot beside you was empty.

You flopped down on your king-sized bed, legs kicking up in the air as you talked to Naoya through the phone. He had business to attend to overseas, leaving you all alone in the Zen’in Estate because he was going someplace dangerous. Though you assured him you could handle yourself just fine, your husband wasn’t having any of it. He shut you up with a kiss and left not long afterwards, so now you had to settle for hearing his voice.

“Have you arrived?”

“Yeah, plane just landed,” his voice that turned gentle only for you crackled through the other line, sounds of shuffling and clinking heard before he spoke again. “Are you in bed already?”

“Hm.”

“Bet you look so fucking pretty right now,” he teased, “You gonna touch yourself at the thought of me while I’m gone, princess?”

“You know my fingers could never compare to your cock.”

“You’re so dirty,” he chuckled back, and your laughter mingled. It was so easy to laugh with him through mindless conversations to kill the time; the two of you acting like the world around you wasn’t burning. “When I get back from Shanghai, I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

“If you do that, I won’t be able to hang off your arm prettily in your events.”

“We can always cancel them, princess. I don’t mind spending the entire weekend in bed with you.”

“Naoya, stop,” you buried your face in the pillows, giggling like a schoolgirl while your husband chuckled. You could hear him ordering his favourite drink to the stewardess and for a moment, you grew jealous, thinking that maybe his servants would be pretty. Then, you remembered – Naoya hated every human being in this world with your exception – you had nothing to worry about.

“You like it when I talk to you this way,” he mused, and you made no move to deny. “So about our anniversary—”

You lifted your head from the pillow as you heard the bell ringing, which was odd because it was half past midnight already. Most of the servants had long retired into their quarters right now, the entire estate on heavy lockdown too. The only person who could arrive was probably a special parcel, and you eagerly hopped off the bed, tying your silk nightgown to make yourself modest. “Oh, hey, I think my package arrived. Someone’s ringing.”

“Is it the Louboutin I got you?”

“I hope so!”

“Have fun dressing up then,” you could hear Naoya’s smile, “Send me photos okay? No undies.”

“No undies!” you agreed, swiping end call before you rushed to the front doors. Gosh, one of the worst things about living in a manor was that you had to take three flights of steps down, the lights in the servants’ wing already turned off so you had to open it yourself. “I’m coming!”

Taking a few seconds to compose yourself, you swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @friedghostspyathlete @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn

ALSO GUYS!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ANON WHO MADE THIS NAOYA X READER DOODLE IM CRYING SO MUCHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH I AM LEGIT SPEECHLESS LIKE YOU GUYS? ARE? AMAZING?! ANYWAYS I FINALLY FINISHED THE ENTIRE PLOT OF THIS SERIES AND WELL...I mean, I hope you guys are excited for this as I am, hehehe!! I take back my former note that this was going to be angsty. I think this is more of drama tbh but we’ll see how it goes! (side note...IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FANART PLEASE.)

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ztarvokwrites · 2 years ago

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a/n: oh shit oh fuck i'm back! hi! it's been a long ass while hehe!!! hope you're all doing well and have had a wonderful - if not, pleasant holiday! first of all, i apologise for leaving so suddenly. i was hit with major writers' block after i tried to finish the starmeppo fic and just... couldn't. but, i'm back!! well, idk how long for, but i am back!! i'm gonna try and slowly start posting again. basically i'll just post whenever i finish a fic that i have/had creativity for and maybe dip again lmao. anywho... enjoy this very late festive fic!

warnings: NSFW FOR LIKE A PARAGRAPH SO MDI! PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MDI!!! and also just a bunch of sweetness hehe

synopsis: galdino has a surprise for his beloved this christmas season ❤️

word count: 4,654 (this took me WEEKS cos of procrastination and writers block lmao enjoy)

Snow fell upon the deck of The Big Top as the crew had approached the nearest festive island for a much needed vacation - although, it took a lot of bribing from Galdino for Buggy to agree.

“Why do you want to go there so badly anyway? That place isn’t very flashy, y’know.” He snorted as Galdino crossed his arms. Buggy’s finger tapped on his desk as he impatiently waited for an answer, watching as Galdino seemed to hesitate his response. His expression turned to a soft scowl as he watched his mouth open and close like a fish on land. With a grit of his teeth, Buggy slammed his fist down on the desk, making Galdino jump.

“WILL YOU JUST TELL ME ALREADY INSTEAD OF WASTING MY DAMN TIME?!”

“WILL YOU SHUT IT?! I’m trying to find a way to tell you privately and this-” Galdino responded, looking around to see Cabaji standing by the door, eyes closed and arms crossed as he leant against the wall. “Isn’t very private.”

Buggy cocked a brow, confused as to why he was now sweating and very curious as to why he wanted to tell him the reason in private. He sighed, throwing a pen at Cabaji to get his attention. How the unicyclist napped through the yelling was beyond him.

“Out.” Demanded his Captain, to which - although as confused as Cabaji was - he complied, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Galdino leant back in the chair he was sitting on with a sigh as he thanked his superior. Buggy did the same - minus the thanking - and crossed his arms, a deep frown on his painted lips.

“Well?” Questioned the Clown. “Why do you want to go to this specific island so desperately?”

“Well, Christmas is coming up in a few weeks,” Began Galdino, making Buggy’s eyes roll. “And I thought it’d be nice to surprise Rose with her gift.” Buggy’s eyes perked up a bit with interest. He leant forward with a brow raised, completely confused and intrigued.

“‘Surprise Rose’? What gift?” Quizzed the man, elbows now on the desk as he narrowed his eyes at the Wax Man, who began to sweat a little bit harder. “Just what are you going to give to her that’s so surprising?”

Cabaji only heard muffled voices for a bit, so he closed his eyes again, fully prepared to fall asleep at the door once more, until a loud shriek made him fall flat on his face.

“YOU’RE GOING TO WHAT?!”

“I SAID SHUT UP!!” Galdino yelled back, hands giving the arm rests of the chair a death grip as Buggy immediately quietened down, a grin wide on his painted face. Galdino did not like that look. Buggy rested his cheek on the palm of his gloved hand, still grinning.

“So, Romeo,” Buggy slightly mocked. Oh God. “What’s your plan, hmm?” Galdino sucked his teeth, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms as he glared softly at him.

“There’s no way in Hell I am going to tell you.” He responded, making Buggy feign offense.

“What?! Why not?!” Shrieked Buggy, again.

“Because you’ll ruin what I have planned again,” Galdino bluntly spoke, eyebrows furrowing. “You ruined our last date, remember? And that was almost three months ago. We haven’t had a proper date in 3. Damn. Months, Buggy.”

“Alright, alright,” Buggy sighed, putting his hands up in defense. “I promise I won’t foil your plan this time… Now, tell me? Pretty please?”

“Ugh,” Galdino cringed as the Clown batted his eyelashes at him. “Fine! Just, stop that and listen. Before I start, I do not want you telling everyone here about my plan. I’d rather be dead than have Rose find out about what I’m going to do.”

Buggy nodded and listened closely as Galdino began, telling him his plan in a hushed voice.

Outside, Roseanne shivered. Despite being in one of Galdino’s thick-as-fuck coats, she couldn’t help but shiver. Alvida stood beside her in one of her own thick coats, however she wasn’t shivering at all. The taller woman sighed.

“Why the Hell are you shivering? You’ve got a coat on.” Alvida remarked, making Roseanne shoot a glare at her.

“Shut up. I’m more used to warmer climates, okay?” The shorter woman argued, teeth chattering and cheeks rosy.

“Darling,” Called Galdino, making the two women turn towards him. Roseanne briefly glared at Alvida as Galdino deadpanned as he made his way over to them. “I didn’t mean you.” Alvida tutted and rolled her eyes.

“Charming.” She spat before walking away. Galdino sighed, watching her leave before turning to his dear with a soft smile. He chuckled a little as she shivered.

“Still cold, my Dear?” He rhetorically asked. Roseanne shot him a glare.

“The fuck do you think?” Spat Roseanne, making him flinch a little before shivering himself. He cleared his throat before taking one of her hands in his and bringing it up to his lips, placing a kiss to the back of her palm. Roseanne felt her cheeks become warm as he smiled at her, his other arm wrapping around her.

“Let’s go inside for now, hm? We’ll be arriving at our destination fairly soon.” Galdino spoke as they walked together to their shared quarters. Roseanne blinked, leaning into him a little more as they walked.

“Hey, why are we even going to that winter island?” She asked as they entered the room. Galdino took the coat off for her and hung it up before leading her to sit down on the two-seated couch, sitting down beside her. Heat rose to her cheeks once more as his hand rested on her thigh.

“Buggy said the island always had - and I quote - “flashy parties”. We basically have no choice.” Galdino quickly explained, his thumb gently caressing her thigh, making her squirm a little. Roseanne sighed, trying to keep her cool.

“That’s just great. Let me guess; he’s not gonna give us five minutes to ourselves?”

“He has now.”

“I’msorrywhat?”

“I said,” Galdino spoke, his hand now resting on her inner thigh as his other hand cupped her cheek, making her face him. She could see a glint of something in his eyes that made her heart race and heat pool between her legs. “He has now.”

Roseanne’s face turned red and before she knew it, she had already leant in and pressed her lips to his. Fireworks went off in her belly as he kissed back with such vigor and passion, his hands now gripping her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. It had been so long since they actually spent time together like this, she almost forgot what it felt like. Galdino took this opportunity to hoist her onto his lap before laying her down on the couch, breaking the kiss briefly to speak.

“He’s promised me he’d leave us alone for a while,” He began, his hands caressing her thighs. A smirk painted his lips as she blushed, the contact making her squirm. “So,” One of his hands moved to slide down one of his suspender straps. “Shall we, my Princess~?”

“Shut the fuck up and touch me already.”

“As you wish.”

Alvida knocked on the door to Buggy’s office, a gruff voice telling her to come in made her enter.

“Any clue as to why the Waxman is all perky today?” Questioned the lady, sitting down on one of the bean bags that Buggy insisted he is to have in his office. Buggy kept his lips closed, persing them. Alvida raised a brow. “You’re keeping secrets now? You and your big mouth?”

“THE FUCK DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY NOSE-” Buggy stopped yelling as they both heard muffled music coming from a certain couples’ quarters. Alvida and Buggy shared a confused look before they heard some soft moans, the two of them looking away from each other awkwardly.

“Well,” Spoke Alvida. “That answers my question.”

“Three told me to leave them alone when we get to the island.” Buggy suddenly explained, making Alvida raise a brow.

“Oh? Why? And why are we even going to that island?” She asked. Buggy sighed, looking her dead in the eyes.

“If I tell you, you must promise to not tell Roseanne or the others. I know for a fact that if you tell them, the crew would tell her.”

“Just tell me already.”

Clearing his throat. Buggy leaned in and told her. Alvida’s eyes widened and she began to smile.

“Are you serious?? Can… Can they even do that? I mean, we’re all Pirates.” She asked. Buggy smirked.

“I said I’d deal with it. All we need to do is find a priest and-”

“Force him to work with us?” Alvida guessed. Buggy chuckled.

“Exactly!”

Silence overcame them both as the soft moans from the quarters became a little bit louder. Alvida rolled her eyes as Buggy grimaced.

“Should we tell them to keep it down?” Asked Alvida. Buggy shook his head, standing up.

“Let them have some flashy fun and try to ignore it. I’m gonna go and see how close we are to the island-”

“CAPTAIN BUGGY!” One of Buggy’s lackeys burst through the door, making them jump. “WE’RE ABOUT TO REACH THE ISLAND!”

“Excellent,” Exclaimed the Clown with a big grin. “How long until we reach the shore?”

“About 2 hours, Sir! Also, should we go and tell Brother 3 and Sister Rose?” Asked the lackey. Buggy shook his head.

“I’ll tell them when they’re done.”

Rose’s legs shook ever so slightly, the feeling of his cock finally releasing deep inside of her making her quiver, his cum leaking out of her occupied hole. Galdino’s lips detached from her neck, his breath hot and heavy against her skin as he rested his head on her shoulder. He groaned as he felt her walls clench around his shaft, her pussy milking him for all he’s got. And he smiled at this. He’s certainly missed this feeling.

Lifting his head, the couple met eyes; her tired red irises meeting his own. He smiled down at her as she caught her breath. She truly looked like a rose in his eyes. His gorgeous, beautiful Rose. Without saying a word, he captured her lips in a long, soft kiss in which she returned tiredly. Galdino pulled away to look at her flushed face, a soft smile gracing her pretty features. He felt like he was falling in love with her all over again - like he had just met her for the first time. The Waxman gently pushed some hair out of her face and mouth, her bangs moving in her eyes.

“Ow…” She mumbled, blinking in an attempt to get the hair out of her eyes. Galdino chuckled, pushing her bangs out of the way so her forehead was visible. When she opened her eyes again, she softly chuckled. Galdino’s eyes softened before he leant down and began to pepper her face in kisses, making her all giggly. Rose’s giggles turned to laughter when his stubble tickled her skin. Galdino chuckled with her, planting kisses anywhere he could while whispering words of praise.

“So cute, my Rose.” He murmured. Rose’s face grew warm.

“With the prettiest eyes,” He kissed her eyelids, causing her to giggle. “And the prettiest laugh.” He kissed her nose and chin, making her smile. Galdino looked at her, completely smitten as his eyes darted to her shy grin. He sighed, lovestruck.

“And the prettiest-”

“THREE!”

“HOLYFUCKINGSHITGETOUT!!” Galdino screeched, quickly covering up both of their naked bodies with a blanket and holding Roseanne in his arms tightly, shielding her from the intruders’ line of sight. He glared at them, noticing their striking blue hair and big red nose immediately.

Buggy’s eyes went wide, blinking in some form of shock before he shook his head and grinned.

“We’re about to reach land!” He exclaimed, a big grin on his face. Galdino narrowed his eyes, pissed off.

“GET. OUT.” He spat through his teeth as he held Rose closer to him. Buggy threw his hands up in defense.

“Hey, tell me to get out again and I won’t give you two alone time-” Wax was thrown at him. “AHH! OKAY OKAY! I’m leaving! Just, come out when you’re ready, okay?! God…” Buggy grumbled before swiftly leaving, closing the door. Galdino grumbled, gently placing Rose back on the bed with a soft apology.

“He didn’t see much, did he?” Roseanne softly asked, a harsh blush on her cheeks. Galdino shook his head.

“Don’t worry, my Love. I didn’t let him,” He reassured her, gently stroking her face with the backs of his fingers. “Did you hear that, though? We’re going to be arriving at the island soon.”

“I still don’t get why he wanted to come here. And how come you’re so excited all of a sudden?” Roseanne asked, kissing the palm of his hand. Galdino couldn’t help but internally swoon at the contact.

“Because he’s finally going to leave us alone for a while? Besides, I’m going to give you the best day of your life.” He promised with a grin. Roseanne cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh? But you already give me the best days of my life. What could make this one so special?” She innocently asked, hands reaching up to run her fingers through his long, black hair. Galdino blushed, both at the contact and her words, before he smiled, pecking her lips.

“You’ll see,” He pecked her lips again before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Now, get cleaned and dressed before Buggy barges in again. And make sure to wrap up warm,” He continued as Rose did the same. He stood up, walking to the bathroom. “I’ll turn on the shower while you pick out the best outfit you can find,” Roseanne walked up to him, legs wobbling a little as she looked at him in confusion. He turned to her, grinning. “I’m going to spoil you, my Dearest.”

Roseanne blushed as he pecked her lips again before heading into the bathroom. A giddy smile creeped up onto her lips as she immediately rushed over to her closet. A few minutes passed and her outfit was chosen, the couple had just gotten out of the shower and had begun to dry themselves off and get dressed.

“Want me to help you, my dear?”

“No thanks, Galdi,” Spoke Rose, blushing a little as his hands rested on her shoulders. “I’ve got it.”

Bangs were heard at the door and the couple were told to “hurry the fuck up”, so they did. Once they stepped on deck, Roseanne gasped. The winter island they had docked on had been decorated head to toe in multicolored lights and various festive decorations. Galdino’s gloved hand rested on the small of her back.

“Come on, my Love,” He mumbled, kissing the top of her head as she zipped up her coat. “We have a special room waiting just for us.”

“You said that last time and it was literally just a wax house in the middle of nowhere.” Roseanne spoke as they both got off of the ship. Galdino frowned a little.

“Yes, but you know why it was there.” He responded, smirking ever so slightly. Rose blushed profusely, mumbling for him to shut up as they made their way to a hotel. She raised a brow. The place was surely fancy, which was odd considering they were pirates and all. As soon as they got in and walked up to the reception desk, the receptionist behind the counter gasped, her face going pale.

“Y-You’re pira-”

“We’ll pay you to keep quiet.” Galdino interrupted, pulling out a small bag of berries and placing it on the desk, effectively making the receptionist shut up. She pursed her lips.

“...How much?”

“One hundred thousand. Take it or leave it.”

“...Here’s your key. Enjoy your stay!” The receptionist beamed, handing Galdino a room key, to which he thanked her before holding Roseanne’s hand and making their way to their hotel room.

“...What the fuck just happened?” She asked, completely confused. Galdino squeezed her hand with a smile.

“Just some basic negotiation, my Dear.” He spoke, unlocking the door to their room and leading her inside. To her surprise, all their luggage was already inside, however the balcony door was wide open and she saw a hand flying away. Galdino groaned softly.

“I told him to leave us alone for tonight…”

“What was that?” Roseanne asked, a small smirk on her lips. Galdino panicked a little.

“I- A-At least that saves us from doing it ourselves!” He spoke with a chuckle. That certainly was not what he said, but since he was treating her, she didn’t say a word. He then cleared his throat, wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled down at her. She looked up at him, confused.

“How about we do some sight-seeing, hm?” Galdino suggested.

“Okay, but,” Roseanne began, wrapping her arms around his neck. “What’s there to see?” Galdino just shrugged, making her pout.

“Awh, don’t make that face, my Love,” He spoke, kissing her lips. “It’ll be our own little adventure. How about it?” Roseanne hummed, seemingly thinking before nodding.

Time seemed to fly as the two wandered around the island, Roseanne’s eyes glistening with wonder as they looked at all the festive decorations and structures. Galdino couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he watched her point to things excitedly with a child-like grin. Then, they reached a ferris wheel. Roseanne pointed to it and turned to her tall boyfriend, a big grin on her face.

“Can we?” She asked, voice full of excitement. “I bet the view is beautiful from up there!” She sighed before her stomach grumbled loudly, making her embarrassed. Galdino laughed a little.

“Maybe after some food, eh? Come, let’s take you somewhere special, my Rose.” He spoke, linking their arms together and walking towards a nearby restaurant. Roseanne got nervous; this place looked fancy! But, before she could suggest someplace else, Galdino had already led her inside. The man at the front desk was the same as the lady from the hotel; scared. But after some negotiation, he took them to a table for two in the corner of the restaurant.

Roseanne didn’t want to ask anymore questions, she was just happy that they’ve got some time alone for once, albeit in a strange way. They had both been looking forward to something like this for months and she was glad they got it. As they ate, they talked; mainly about how grateful they both were to get away from the crew for a while.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Began Roseanne as she ate her pasta. Galdino raised a brow. “How did you manage to get Buggy and all his… Delusional followers to leave us alone? I haven’t seen them or heard from them all day.” Galdino couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at this, her main question was about Buggy? His heart stung a little.

“Simple, I bribed him.” He answered, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Roseanne hummed, eyes narrowing.

“With what?”

“Treasure.”

“Please tell me you didn’t give him any of our share, Galdino.” Roseanne pleaded. Galdino sighed, clearing his throat.

“No, I told him that if he left us alone for tonight, I’d find some treasure for him.” A lie. A simple lie was all it took for Roseanne to make a noise of understanding.

“Oh. Okay, then. And what about the crew?”

Galdino deadpanned at her question, getting rather annoyed and Roseanne mumbled an apology. The man shook his head with a small smile, his free hand reaching out and gently holding her own, his thumb running over her knuckles. They continued to eat and talk, Galdino giving Rose the occasional compliment and sweet words to make her blush. Once they ate all their food and left a tip, they left for the ferris wheel that Roseanne had pointed to earlier.

On board their little pod, the wheel began to slowly move. Roseanne was giddy with excitement. Galdino was sweating with nervousness. He had to keep it together until they reached the top. He had to. A gasp left her mouth as they finally reached the top. But it wasn’t a gasp of awe.

“The Marines are here.” She stated, making Galdino whip his head to the direction she was looking. He swallowed, cursing under his breath.

“We need to leave,” He spoke, making a bat out of wax and breaking a window. Roseanne nodded and took his hand before jumping out of the window with him. They landed on the soft snow and began to run towards the hotel, only to be stopped by the Marines. Hands through up into the air as guns were pointed at them.

“Stay right where you are and don’t move a muscle!”

Roseanne and Galdino briefly glanced at each other. Poor Galdino looked stressed while Roseanne looked like she was about to kill them all. Maniacal laughter made them jump.

“Captain Buggy has come to save the day!” Buggy screeched as two hands lifted the couple up by the hands and began to fly them back to the ship as some of their crewmates began to fight off the Marines. Roseanne scoffed.

“Why aren’t we down there kicking some ass?!” She exclaimed. Their feet hit the deck of The Big Top as Buggy dropped them. The Captain growled, agitated.

“Because if you were to die then Loverboy over here won’t be able to marry you-!” Galdino’s hand clasped over his painted mouth as he glared daggers at his superior.

“SHUT. UP.” He warned as Roseanne looked at them both with confusion written all over her face. Galdino turned to her and sighed, releasing Buggy’s mouth from his grip.

“Uhm,” Roseanne began, putting a hand on her hip. “What’s he on about?” She asked, now crossing her arms. Galdino sighed again, clearing his throat as he slowly walked up to her, getting something out of his back pocket.

“I was going to ask you this on the ferris wheel, but now that someone has ruined the surprise, I suppose I must ask you this now.” He spoke, shooting a glare at Buggy before turning back to Rose and getting down on one knee. Time seemed to slow. Roseanne’s heart rate slowed as she watched him take out the little black box and open it, presenting the most gorgeous diamond ring she had ever seen. Little Rubies encircled around the Diamond on the golden band and the shimmer the gems made were almost magical. Her hands clasped over her mouth as it opened in shock, eyes welling up with tears.

“Roseanne, you make me happy that I wake up every single day. Even when Buggy screams at me to get up when everyone else is sleeping, I take one look at you and I know that I’m going to have a good day, no matter how miserable it is,” Galdino began, his heart racing a mile a minute as he began to sweat. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He was far too nervous for this. “Granted, we didn’t get along at the beginning, but as time progressed, I felt myself falling deeper in love with you. You are the most perfect, most talented woman I have ever laid my eyes on and I cannot believe that I am with you,” His voice cracked a little bit, yet he continued. He had to. “Roseanne, every single day, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. My Love, I- I…” He trailed off, seemingly lost for words before he sharply inhaled through his teeth. He was melting at this point. “Will you marry me, my dear Rose?”

He did it. He finally did it. Buggy held his breath. Galdino watched her reaction carefully through his glasses.

Roseanne couldn’t move, the heat rushing to her face made it hard to do so. Was he serious?

“... Are…” She began, muffled behind her hands. “A-Are you serious? Y-You wanna marry someone like me?” She was shocked.

Galdino slowly nodded, bringing his arm down a little, thinking he was going to get rejected.

“...S…” Rose whispered. Galdino straightened up, looking at her with confusion and shock. “...Y-Yes… Yes! YES!! A MILLION TIMES YES!!!” Roseanne exclaimed, tackling him to the ground in a hug with tears streaming freely down her face. Once Galdino caught his breath, he grinned, tears in his eyes and heart full of relief. Roseanne pulled away just enough for her lover to put the ring on her finger. When he did, he kissed her finger before looking deep into her eyes and kissing her, holding her face with both hands before they pulled away, Roseanne giggling to herself as they caught their breath.

Applause from all around them alerted them to their surroundings, they both looked around to see that the entire crew had boarded the ship and the anchor had been lifted. They were now sailing away from the island and trying to get away from the Marines, who were hot on their tail.

“CONGRATULATIONS, BROTHER 3!”

“I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU, SISTER ROSE!! I’M GONNA CRY!!!”

Roseanne chuckled before standing up, wiping away her tears as Galdino stood up, too - a soft scowl on his face. He pointed to the Marines that were now shooting at the ship.

“DON’T YOU SEE THERE’S A FLOCK OF MARINES CHASING US?!” He exclaimed before sighing, rubbing his temples. Roseanne placed a hand on his arm, grabbing his attention. His face immediately softened as she smiled brightly up at him before walking away. He watched as she faced the Marines - a canon coming their way making him panic.

“Rose…?”

“Don’t worry, my Love,” She spoke, looking at him over her shoulder with a sweet smile. Her hand felt under her coat and grabbed out a leaded microphone. She turned back and grinned. “I’ll be fine.” With a spin of the cord and a swing, the cord wrapped around the cannonball. Using all of her strength, she pulled the cannonball towards her before swinging it around and around until she finally let it out of the cords’ grip; the cannonball flew back towards the Marines’ ship, hitting its side successfully. Although dizzy, she stood strong, reclaiming her microphone and grinning victoriously as her crewmates cheered. Galdino stared at his girlfriend- no- fiancé, jaw slack in shock and awe.

“Buggy,” Rose called. Buggy snorted, eyes wide and mouth in a thin line. To say he was shocked was an understatement. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?” Buggy just nodded, snapping out of it and ordering his men to do whatever it takes to get away from the Marines. Roseanne’s legs felt like jelly as she suddenly began to stumble. Galdino was quick to catch her just before her legs gave way. She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck as Galdino picked her up bridal style, grinning.

“I can’t wait to be Mrs… Wait, what's your last name?” Rose asked, raising a brow. Galdino sighed softly.

“Terza.” He answered, taking her back to their shared room. Roseanne blinked. At first she thought; ‘So third in a different language?’. But then, she smiled - beaming.

“I can’t wait to be Mrs Terza.” She softly spoke, burying her blushing face in his shoulder. Galdino’s eyes widened a little, a giddy smile on his face as a blush rose to his cheeks.

“I can’t wait either, my Dear. So,” He spoke as they walked in the room. He laid her down on the bed and closed the door before turning on his heel to her. He grinned. “How does February 14th sound to you?”

Roseanne sat up, alarmed. He panicked.

“O-Or, we could do March 14th??”

“WHITE DAY????” Roseanne yelped, shocked. Galdino panicked even more.

“OR WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT, THAT’S FINE TOO, I SUPPOSE!?”

#ztarvokwrites #candleking #one piece #mr 3 #onepiece #rosino #galdino #galdino x oc #mr 3 x oc #roseanne #miss sweet sixteen #one piece x oc

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therealvalkyrie · 4 years ago

Text

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 6

sketch

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff, romantic vegetable chopping, the chapter of realizing things

AN: Well, it’s been six fucking months, but it’s finally here!! It’s a little shorter than I’d prefer, and took a lot of iterations to get here, but I’m very satisfied:) Thanks, as always, to my lovely @doinmybesthere for editing and encouraging. I hope you all enjoy! I think there’re maybe 1 or 2 parts left in this story, that’ll hopefully be out more quickly than I managed this one. Please let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 5 here)

Finals week passes in a slow blur, barely leaving enough time for you to breathe between essays, exams, and one presentation that you think takes at least a year off the end of your life. It’s much the same for everyone else, as well — you barely see Levi, not counting the nights you spend alternating between your bed and his, and you don’t see Hange at all. Consequently, there’s no opportunity to break apart what happened on Saturday. No chance to peel back its layers and find how you really feel. Although, to her credit, Annie doesn’t appear again, so you’re able to shove it into a corner of your mind for the time being.

Saturday brings with it both a new winter storm and an overwhelming sense of relief. You let it fill you completely as you sit and watch snow swirl outside. The street below your kitchen window is bustling with students trying to outrun the storm to get home for vacation. But you have nowhere to be, nothing to do. It’s nice.

The door opens, bringing with it the stomping of Levi’s boots. You turn to watch him shake snow from his hair, sinking deeper into the reassurance of knowing that everything you need is here under your roof. Safe.

Hmm. What the fuck?

You choke on the next sip of your tea as the realization of what you just felt hits you square in the chest. Through your coughing and hacking, you reach again for that fleeting sense of home. Childish, content, warm.

“Are you okay?” Levi calls from the entrance, looking at you with pinched brows halfway through hanging up his jacket.

“Fine,” you cough out, pushing back from the table to hunch over and catch your breath. “I’m okay.”

It takes a moment for you to stop breathing hard, though when you do, your heart rate doesn’t return to normal, instead pushing blood to your face and neck and making your body feel light. Levi doesn’t help when he finally joins you in the kitchen, all floppy hair and bright cheeks from the snow. All leisurely about the way he stretches his lean body to take his favorite blend of Earl Grey from the top of the fridge.

“I was thinking about dinner,” he starts, completely oblivious to the way you’ve started sweating under your cardigan. “We shouldn’t order because of the snow, so I brought home stuff to make soup.”

“What kind?” It’s a miracle the words come out normally.

“Chicken noodle.” He turns to face you. “My mom’s recipe.”

—

“I don’t get why guys are always so uppity about kitchen knives,” you say, picking up what Levi’s told you is a utility knife. “Like, it’s just a knife. I’m not about to stab myself with it.” Your finger drags along its sharp edge for only a split second when Levi’s slim fingers are suddenly around your wrist.

“Don’t. Touch. The knives,” he growls, taking the utility knife gently from your other hand and placing it back on the counter. “I just sharpened them last week, you could’ve seriously cut yourself.”

His steel eyes hold yours for another long moment until you nod your head mutely. You haven’t been able to shake the knot of hyperawareness that’s been settled in your belly since your what the fuck moment, and it only twists tighter when he’s so close to you. His hair is dry now, curling slightly because he hasn’t bothered to comb it since he got home. You have to actively resist the urge to twist a particularly enthusiastic curl around your finger in the split second before he backs away again.

Muttering under his breath, he returns to the simmering pot on the stove that he claims has turned into stock, though you hardly believe it. Growing up, you’d never been taught kitchen skills, let alone anything close to actual labor.

For a while, you’re content to watch, sitting at the table and nursing both the ache in your chest and a fresh cup of chamomile, but the urge to join him in his quiet work overwhelms you as he’s washing the vegetables.

“Levi, please, can I help?” Your tone edges on whining, prompting him to huff and shift on his feet. “I promise I won’t touch the knives! There, just, must be something I can do.”

You see him roll his eyes, swear under his breath, then turn towards you with a glower.

“No talking, no questions, and go wash your hands.”

“Yes!” you cheer and stand up with a bounce.

The scent of the bar of soap as you lather and wash cuts pleasantly through the spices and thick scents already filling the kitchen. It’s not something you’ve experienced often, and you relish in what you realize must be home comfort, your grin settling from enthused to contented.

Levi is arranging carrots, celery, and onions next to the cutting board when you join him again.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch the knives?”

“You’re not, until I show you how to do it without chopping off your fingers.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” you tease, but nevertheless settle in beside him to watch as he lines up a carrot and picks up the utility knife.

“We’re generally going for even pieces, though it doesn’t matter much because it’s a soup. Put your fingers like this,” you lean over a bit to see how he’s arranged his left hand holding the carrot, the tips of his fingers just barely tucked under the knuckles, “so that you can chop like this—“ he begins slicing, knife guided by his knuckles “—and not lose your fingers. Always point the blade away from yourself and others, and never hold the handle like you’re going to stab something. That’s not effective, anyway. If you have to use this as a weapon, it’s much more effective to slash rather than stab, considering bone density—“

“Uhh,” you cut in, “pause. Are we slicing carrots or fending off home invaders?”

He stops chopping. “What did I say about asking questions?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Anyway. Considering bone density, you’ll have better luck aiming to cut big veins than forcing through ribs.”

He’s done with the first carrot, now, lithe fingers flipping the knife so the blade is up.

“Never drag the blade along the surface sideways. Flip it over and use the blunt edge to move food.” He demonstrates, moving the little pile of carrot slices to a corner of the cutting board. “Your turn.”

And then, like it’s nothing, he’s offering you the handle with a flat expression.

“Uhm.” You press your lips together and eye it for a long pause. “Are you sure?”

“It’s just a carrot. You’ll be fine.” He lets another unsure moment slide into being, then sighs and reaches out to wrap your hand around the handle. “Here, like this.”

And like you’ve suddenly stepped into a poorly-written romcom, he’s guiding your hands under his to the next waiting carrot, curling your fingers exactly like he showed you before, and scooting over to let you stand in his place. You just let yourself go along with it, hoping desperately that he won’t feel your hands grow clammy or see the way your chin has tucked itself shyly to your chest so you can watch.

Fucking shit carrots, useless goddamn root vegetable, can’t chop itself, has to make me do all the work—

Your aggressive inner monologue takes you all the way through the second carrot, then his hands are leaving yours and he’s placing a third under your waiting blade. Time to fly solo.

—

When you fall asleep in the armchair that night, sated and full of comfort food, Levi sketches in pencil on scrap paper. He sketches his hands over yours in the kitchen and he sketches the steam rising from the pot on the stove. He sketches you sitting with a bowl of soup in your lap, face illuminated by the TV and he sketches your sleeping body curled up, hair in your mouth. He sketches a close-up of your face, with special attention to the curve of your bottom lip, and he considers it practice for finishing the painting in his room.

Levi doesn’t think about how if he doesn’t do something soon, all of this will change. About how you’ll get over your heartbreak and move out at the end of the year and he won’t see you every day and every night. And he definitely doesn’t think about how he’ll have to adjust back to sleeping without your soft body tangled in his, and he doesn’t wonder how he ever slept before you.

No, instead of thinking, he just cracks his knuckles and gently scoops you from the chair and into his arms.

It’s as he’s climbing into his side of your bed that you stir and snort and blink sleepy eyes open.

“What time is it?”

“Ten forty,” he whispers, “go back to sleep.”

You hum and turn on your side to face him, face half hidden by the squish of your pillow. He settles more comfortably in, tucks your head under his chin even though you’re taller than he is, and drapes his free arm around the curve of your waist.

Quiet breathing is the only thing that fills the room for a long while, and he finally thinks you’ve drifted back off, when:

“Hey, Levi?”

“Hmm?”

“I... I’ve been thinking a lot, and...”

The tone of your voice is odd and it makes Levi’s throat seize up for a moment while you hesitate. He swallows deliberately.

“And?”

Your next words are more confident, like you have really been thinking a lot, your voice not sleepy in the slightest. It’s matter-of-fact and soft and lovely.

“And you make me feel really safe. Just, like, all the time. And I’m glad I met you. You make me feel, um...,” a small sniffle, “You make me feel held.”

Levi tightens his arm around you and swallows again. It feels like he’s balancing on the head of a pin, and a thousand angels are swirling around him, and it’s taking all he has not to get pushed off.

“Well, I am holding you.”

“Psssssht,” you wriggle slightly back so you can look at his face. You look simultaneously exasperated and vulnerable in the shadows of your bedroom. “You know what I mean.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Well, I guess...”

You pause to think for a moment, eyes flicking away from Levi’s face for a split second. Then, they’re back on his and he can feel the vulnerable honesty already spilling from you.

“I’ve never really, um, gotten a lot of physical affection? From people in my life? And, uh, it’s not just that, it’s that you’re so... so— so familiar, and not just because I know you, godimnotmakingalickofsense, but because it feels like I’ve always known you?” It’s said like a question, like you want to know if he feels the same. “And you just make me feel held.”

You pause on a shaky inhale of breath, then cover your face with your hands and roll onto your back away from him.

“God, I’m sorry, that doesn’t make any sense at all, I’ll just—“

“Stop,” Levi cuts you off, pushing up to lean over you and grasp your wrists in one hand and cover your mouth with the other, a mirror of the pair of you in the kitchen weeks earlier. “It makes sense. I get it.”

Your doe eyes stare up at him just like they did then and he selfishly indulges in an extra second of staring back before he releases you and slides back to rest on an elbow. Your hands stay demurely tucked by your chest where he put them and your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips as your eyes follow him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Okay. Good.”

Suddenly, Levi doesn’t feel like going to bed. He feels like running for miles or painting until his hands ache or hitting something, anything to distract him from doing something incredibly stupid right now. The mattress sinks as he sits up and spins his legs out of bed, muttering something about tea and not tired yet, and he almost doesn’t catch the sensation of you sitting up behind him.

He turns halfway back to tell you to go back to sleep, but your fingers catch his chin and he’s abruptly out of breath.

The curve of your bottom lip is perfectly, exactly the way he sketched it in the semi-dark. It’s slightly chapped.

When you kiss him, soft and certain, he topples off the pinhead and back into his body just in time to do something incredibly stupid and kiss you back.

—

(read part 7 here)

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #snk fanfic #shingeki no kiyojin fanfic #female!reader #levi ackerman #fluff #swearing #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

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littlemisslipbalm · 5 years ago

Text

“harry’s stylist, right?” part II

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this gif bc i couldn’t fine the fit i wanted to showcase, but that night him and y/n get closer than they had gotten before :))

and we’re back :) - this is the last part of this i may do some little blurbs and stuff about these two if people want it (maybe) i hope you all enjoy this part, it’s not proofread so sorry about that lol. Feedback and reblogs are so very very appreciated, also feel free to message me about you’re feelings about this

Word Count: just over 10k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, implication of smut, i think that’s it

part 1

After the call with Jeff, which wasn’t really a conversation at all, moreso a berating from him, she was in the worst mood. She shrugged off the Bode jacket and hung it up in her entryway closet. She wasn’t planning on wearing it ever again. Without the jacket on, her shirt that seemed to be exactly on the nose with it’s “we’re in the shit” graphic was clear and she untucked it from her light mint pants. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Instead of picking her phone up again, she decided she could do without communication for a while. Her feet padded to her bedroom, after removing her nikes and socks. In her bedroom she opened up her record player, wanting music, but not wanting to be bothered with her laptop since it had a connection to the internet.

She grabbed her Electric Warrior by T. Rex and slipped out the first record from its sheath. As she set up the music, she couldn’t remember where she’d even gotten the record but for some reason it had called to. She skipped over Mambo Sun, the first track, though, and had it play Cosmic Dancer first. It was calming to her, she swayed a bit to the soothing beat and then climbed into her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered about when her life had gotten so complicated. The rhythm in the music and the exhausting thought material lulled her to sleep as the afternoon sun washed her room a perfect golden from behind her shade.

When she woke up again, it was midnight and she was starving. The record had stopped spinning hours ago, she hadn’t even gotten through side A. It was forgotten as she made her way to her kitchen, groggily.

After settling on cereal and an alcoholic seltzer for dinner, she was really in the mood to treat herself, she made her way back to her living space. On the couch, she tucked her legs beneath herself and spooned the sugary food into her mouth. She had only soy milk in the place because she didn’t like cow’s milk and it didn’t keep when she was gone for extended periods of time. Then as she sipped from the black cherry White Claw, she dug her hand into the cushion next to her. Her hand reemerged with her discarded phone from earlier. She decided it was reasonable to go on it now.

More messages from various people in her life and hundreds of social media notifications. She was going to ignore social media for as long as she possibly could. Four missed calls. 2 voicemails. Styles Harry. Why she kept contacts backwards in her phone was unimportant, it’s just what she did.

She sighed and took a bigger sip of the barely alcoholic drink. Then clicked the voicemail notifications and pressed the first one on speaker as she began to read his texts as well. Then the next voicemail. She checked the time in California, it was still a reasonable part of the day there so instead of texting back she rang him.

“Hello?”

“Har- H. Hi.”

“Y/N! Are you alright?” The concern apparent in his tone. She was taken aback. He hadn’t necessarily sounded angry in his texts or voicemails, but she just assumed he was being courteous since it was a live conversation.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No! Why would I be?”

“Because I just had my ass handed to me by Jeff earlier.” She slightly mumbled and shrugged, still upset with how she had been spoken to by Jeff.

“Oh gosh, I told him not to be harsh. It’s honestly not a big deal. I thought it was fine, you texted me too!”

“Yeah, well apparently wearing your clothes means we’re dating and that’s not cool in the world’s eyes,” you scoff.

“I know how much you like that coat...I thought you looked great in it, too.” He finishes in a slight whisper, not wanting to be overheard.

“Harry…” you can’t keep the smile off your face. It was a cute compliment even if the situation wasn’t ideal. “Why do your fans have to be so smart and know there’s only two of those coats in the world and I don’t own the other one.”

He laughs, blushing at how you said his name. This time not using his nickname didn’t bother him, it felt even more intimate somehow.

He rubs a hand through his hair, “I know, pesky little devils, gotta love’em, though”

She hums, not sure if she can agree about loving them right now since they’re probably eating her alive all over social media.

“So you’re alright, darling?” He asks again.

“Mhmm,” she pauses at the pet name, it was soothing right now. All she wanted was to curl into his chest, but he was half a world away, quite literally. His words would have to do in his absence. “I’m really glad you’re not mad at me, H. That would’ve made this a hundred times worse.”

He huffs, wishing he could be with her to comfort her. He hated this part of his life. A friend couldn’t borrow a piece of his clothing without everyone assuming that they were seeing each other. It was disgusting and it made him dislike tabloids and social media even more than he already did.

“Trust me. I’d never be mad at you, pet. And I’d definitely never be mad at you for looking good as fuck in my clothes.”

“Shut up!” She squeals, his tone turning from earnest to teasing in one breath. He cackles on the other end of the line because despite her mean words, he could hear the smile on her lips.

“When are you flying back to London?” Her voice grows quiet again after she takes another sip of her drink.

“Thursday,” he almost whispers back, having contained his mirth again.

“We have some work to do on your Graham Norton and Jingle Bell Ball outfits. The listening party ones are all picked up -”

“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off, “It’s late for you, go to bed. Try not to stress out too much, we’ll talk when I’m back about work. For now, take a few days off to not think about my clothes.”

She sighs, “Thanks, H. You’re right. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Goodnight, m’love.”

She ends the phone call and chalks the almost ‘my’ sounding syllable that she heard before love was just her tired mind and Harry’s mumbling voice. It most certainly wasn’t.

After a restful few days of doing absolutely nothing, something rare for Y/N, she was extremely well rested. So much so that she was peacefully asleep when Harry let himself into her flat since they had agreed to meet at her place when he got back to London. As much as he wanted her to take time off and not over work herself, his schedule was a busy one and now that he was back, they had work to do.

Inside her flat, he was greeted with silence. He made his way to her bedroom at the back of the flat. He’d been here a handful of times. She always told him she preferred to spread out when she worked and Harry’s was the place for that. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and he pushed it open slowly with his ring clad hand. His black nails are freshly painted and shiny, no chips. Still in her bed, Y/N shifted around softly. He smiled to himself, taking in how the room smelled over lavender and how she had pink floral sheets. He walked to the window and raised the shade, hoping to have her wake up without and coaxing from him.

“H,” her voice mumbles into her pillow and he thinks she’s woken up. His face turns to look at her, but her eyes are still closed and she looks completely asleep. He wonders if she’s trying to trick him, but then she mumbles again.

“Mhhh, tha’ tickles,” and she giggles. He kind of grimaces, feeling like he shouldn’t be hearing this. He hadn’t known she spoke in her sleep, it was sweet, but with the context right now, he thought him having this knowledge might not sit well with her.

“Y/N,” he says loudly, before clearing his throat. Her eyes shoot wide and she sits up, dropping the sheet she had been snuggling.

“Harry! Oh my god!”

“Meeting, remember?”

“Oh my god,” she glances around her surroundings, Harry still standing at her window. “What time is it?”

“1 pm. We said 1 right?”

“We did, I just...I don’t know what happened. Sorry, give me a second. I’m out of it.”

When she emerged from her room, dressed and ready for the day, Harry had brewed a pot of coffee with her machine that she really only had for guests.

“Sorry again,” she sits at her countertop, searching for her notebook in her bag.

“No worries,” then he leans across the countertop, “Seemed like you were in the middle of a nice dream.”

His brows are raised as she avoids his gaze. She flushes easily, “I- it was...just one of those usual dreams.”

“You have dreams about me often?”

“I didn’t say that!” Her eyes shoot up to meet his and he grins. He takes a sip of his coffee before speaking again.

“I heard you say ‘H’.”

She rolls her eyes, “That proves nothing.”

They both stare at each other for a minute, not talking or moving. Harry is simply grinning at her as she twitches her hand with her pen in it now. Her eyes are trying to figure out what Harry’s getting at, searching his expression for how he feels about knowing she dreams of him. She certainly wasn’t going to get into it with him, even if he did continue prodding.

“Alright,” she begins when he doesn’t seem to want to press it further. “Oh!” She jumps up, dropping her pen and forgetting about whatever else she was going to say. “Your jacket! And shirt! I cleaned the shirt and the jacket…” She runs out of the room to go to her front closet where she had hung up both the jacket and the shirt.

Returning, she holds them out to Harry and he rounds the countertop to look at them.

“Perfect shape,” he admires the spotless shirt and his beloved jacket. He puts them on the back of the chair that was next to them. “Won’t forget my jacket again.”

She smiles sheepishly, thinking back to Jeff’s conversation with her. Harry notices her change in demeanor and takes one of her hands. Her eyes flash up to his face and her body tenses, he feels it even in her hand.

“Have you gone on any social media since you’ve been home?” His eyes are wide as he runs his thumb over the back of her hand.

She softens slightly, “Oh yeah, after the first day I decided to check. Most were funny and sweet, their nasty comments didn't get to me.”

Her eyes are big on her face and Harry watches as her worries and concerns all wash through the swirling colors in them. He wants to take all of that pain away and just stare into her abyss forever.

“What did Jeff say exactly?” He knows that’s what she’s alluding to. Harry loved his manager, but when he had called him about the jacket incident he had been pretty short with Harry and hadn’t given much information on his chat with Y/N. The way she looked right now bothered him because ultimately Harry was in charge of Y/N in his employment of her and if Jeff had acted like her superior in a way that was harmful he’d be downright upset.

Her eyes grow glassy immediately and Harry’s anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. She tries to blink anything away, but fails.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, it wasn’t terrible. It’s just, all my life, I’ve had to work to be taken seriously because of who I am and I hate when I get talked down to by a man. Especially over a stupid fucking publicity thing for you. Like I’m sorry, but I don’t see you as a public figure where I have to worry about every goddamn thing I do messing up your image.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, realizing she’d gotten really worked up as she spoke. The tears running down her face more in anger than sadness. Harry watches on, letting her work through her thought process. “He was just so mean… for what?” She whispers finally.

“Oh god…darling,” Harry grips her hand more firmly. He wants to take her in his arms, but he’s not sure if that’s what’s best for her right now, so he just keeps holding her hand. She stares up at him, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes now tinted a light red.

“I’m sorry he spoke to you in that way. That isn’t his job at all, I’ll definitely talk to him since I didn’t have the full story before. He gets very worried about the media perception thing, especially right now with the album.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, blinking up at Harry. “I know your image is important, too, otherwise why the fuck would I be here? Right? I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal I borrowed the jacket.”

“In a perfect world my image wouldn’t matter at all,” Harry sighed, “Fame is a stupid, fickle thing musicians like me get stuck with.”

“Please, you love the attention,” she teases, poking at his chest. The sweatshirt he wore wrinkling under her touch.

“‘M serious,” he insists, “I’m saying it shouldn’t matter that you borrowed my jacket, but sadly it comes across to the rest of the world like I’m dating you.” He pokes her sternum in return.

“And that would be the end of the world?” she smiles, her tone still teasing, but that worry is back and swimming in her eyes again.

This time, though, Harry must not see it because he laughs and lets go of her hand. “For a lot of people, I think it might be.”

She bites at her lip and tries to contain the laugh that bubbles in her. He was right and as he wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee, she shook her head trying to rid herself of those pesky feelings that had been hoping for a different answer.

The next few weeks go off without a hitch. Harry’s outfits look incredible for the listening parties. Then for the Graham Norton Show, the Jingle Bell Ball, and the One Night Only at the Forum. Every single outfit is received with praise and everything seems to be coming up Harry Styles. Y/N has been traveling to most of his appearances, making sure everything is in order before he goes out. She’s always by his side before he walks out into the public eye. Taking his picture and saving it in the lookbook that keeps growing, smoothing over his lapels, either unbuttoning or buttoning a middle button when she thought he had too many or not enough undone for the look. Whatever it was, she was there for him.

Then, after his appearances, they would debrief. Debriefs really were just time that Harry carved out in his schedule to just be alone with Y/N. Sure, they talked about clothes, that’s how they had first connected, but it always turned to other ideas. They’d talk about his songs and she’d ask about the meanings that he wouldn’t share with the rest of the world. He’d happily tell her about it and they enjoyed that time together. There were stolen glances and lingering touches, but at the end of the day they were professionals who were friends. It wasn’t maybe what either of them wanted, but they weren’t unhappy.

Harry just got back from Los Angeles after filming for his Ellen show appearance and he was set to play the Bowery Ballroom tomorrow in London. After this there was going to be a lot of downtime on Harry’s schedule because of the holidays. He had marked out almost a whole month of time off, at least from appearances. They still had to start planning tour outfits and finalize the outfits for the events after the break. Right now, all she was focused on was getting Harry into the beautiful yellow Gucci suit that was a twin of the Watermelon Sugar suit he had worn on Saturday Night Live. Harry said he wanted to check the suit before tomorrow for some reason, so Y/N had made her way over.

She finished buttoning the sleeves of the jacket and stepped back to admire Harry once again. No matter what he wore he always looked marvelous in her eyes. She’d argue anyone could say that about Harry though. He could pull anything off and make it his own with barely any effort.

Today, his hair was disheveled and mused from his plane ride back into London. The flight from California to England was a rough one, even when you traveled in the type of luxury Harry did. Despite his tired body and eyes, the suit looked stunning on him. He wore it without shoes and she giggled when she saw his feet. His feet tattoos never failed to make her laugh and she had no explanation for why.

While Harry looked good in everything, there actually was something a little off with the suit right now. Normally, it hugged him just right to make him look perfectly muscled and defined, but it seemed to be hanging a little looser in some areas.

She tapped a finger to her lip, looking him over, unsure of what was off.

“Did you lose weight, H?”

“Huh?” He looks down at himself and somewhat notices the looser fit, but wasn’t quite sure if he had lost weight. “Don’t think so.”

She hums and steps closer to him, dropping her hands to tug at various parts of the suit, trying to figure out whether she should take anything in or leave it be.

“It’s probably all the travel I’ve been doin’. Can be draining me more than I realize.” He ponders as she continues to work silently over the suit.

Her hands travel beneath the suit and encircle his waist, almost as if she’s hugging him, but not really. His stomach flexes at the contact, her chest pressed softly against his. She grips a bit of the shirt from the back and then unfolds herself from him to look at the mirror. The shirt is now taut against his sternum and pectorals under the coat. She tilts her head, silently asking him his opinion.

“I think it’s fine the way it is, honestly.”

“Okay,” she nods and releases her hold on the shirt, hand slithering out from beneath his coat. He exhales deeply through his nose. “Make sure you eat properly tonight.” She says before beginning to pack up her things, done for the day. Harry begins to undress himself.

She turns back to face him as he hands her the jacket and shirt, her eyes run over the length of his torso, both for the sake of checking on his health and for other purely selfish reasons. All the tattoos still remained where they always were when she saw him like this. It never got old, his beautiful body. He didn’t even need clothes to look good. She blinks back to reality when the fabric comes in contact with her hand.

“Make sure you treat yourself this holiday season, you deserve it, H. And it seems like any weight you ever gain is muscle anyways, so you don’t exactly have to worry around the sweets table.”

Harry laughs heartily as he slips on his long sleeve shirt he was wearing. Then he starts on the pants as she turns away again to hang up the top parts of the suit.

Finally, she adds when he hands her the suit pants, “Just don’t want you overworking yourself, seriously, H.”

He looks at her as he buttons up his baggy blue jeans. The outfit he wore was just the first clean things he had grabbed when he had gotten home. His green eyes turn serious after the mirthfilled last few moments.

He crosses to her side as she puts away the clothes in the garment bag. His hand lands softly on her shoulder and she turns to him at his touch. “I know. You’re so good to me, darling. Always making sure I’m taking care of myself…”

It’s quiet. The soft breeze in the London air outside barely whispers around the house. Harry’s voice was laced with love, even if it wasn’t his intention. His ‘thank you’ was piercing into her heart and his touch wasn’t helping her stay focused. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt Harry take a step closer to her, his head ducking slightly down to her level. Then, right on the edge of her left temple and her hairline, his soft lips pressed against her skin. They brushed against her for just a moment, lingering for the respectful amount of time. But all she wanted was anything but respectful. She wanted his lips pressed against hers, she wanted his hands in her hair, yanking her deeply into him. She wanted to scream when he pulled away, but she didn’t. She smiled warmly up at Harry and her eyelashes fluttered on their own accord like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thank you,” he whispers again.

“What would you do without me?” She pushes at him playfully, shaking off her giddiness. Then she turns back to her work, scooping up all the items of hers on the table.

“Probably have to walk around naked, huh?”

“Oh my god!” She laughs and starts for the door, Harry follows behind to walk to her out to her car. “Maybe I should quit! People would love it.” She continues laughing as she hangs the garment in the passenger's seat side.

“No thank you, please,” Harry hurriedly says.

She turns to him as she closes the door and leans against the car. This was their routine right before she left, a final chat against the car before she drove off for the night.

“Tomorrow’s going to be amazing, H. It’s gonna be electric!” She scrunches her nose slightly at the pun about the venue as she smiles up at him.

He sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek, holding back a laugh. His eyes narrow at her, slyly. “Very funny.”

She only winks at him before pushing herself off of her car and walks to the driver’s side of the car.

He waves as she begins to pull out of the driveway and she flashes him a peace sign and a mouthed ‘Bye’ when she turns onto the street.

After the Bowery Ballroom show, Y/N barely sees Harry at the after party. She doesn’t worry about it too much. His management was going to have a holiday party next week before the little break began for the team. So, she knew she’d see him before she flew back to see her family for the holidays. She was going home for two weeks and then would be back for New Year’s and then would get back to work after that.

She saw Harry exactly twice after the show. First, she saw Harry right after the show and he was all sweaty and exhilarated. He tackled her in a bear hug with such strength she would have fallen back if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. When he pulled away, he placed two extremely slobbery kisses on her cheeks and she laughed, tipping her head back in pure bliss. Then he was pulled away by Jeff to change and get ready for the after party.

Jeff had apologized over text about the tone he had taken over the whole jacket thing, but only Harry had told him to. It was fine with Y/N, she told him that too, but she just never felt like being around him for very long if she could help it after that. That’s why she liked that most of her job entailed dealing with Harry directly. If she had to go through Jeff for everything she’d likely pull her hair out. He was still short with her at whole team meetings and not necessarily courteous when they were around each other casually. Like she said, it was fine, she just didn’t make it her business to be around Jeff.

The second time she saw Harry was around half past one am. She was pretty sure it was time for her to uber home and she wanted to say goodbye to Harry. Her well-liquored body stumbled around the big room. Deciding to take shots with the band had gotten her to where she was now and she wasn’t complaining she was happy. She was in a celebratory mood and wanted to see Harry right now. Tell him how much fun she had and how proud she was of him. How much she loved him… Hopefully she kept that part to herself.

“Harry!” She finally exclaims, coming upon a group of people surrounding the star himself. She ignored the rest of the people, likely stars too, but she really couldn’t care less. One of them tried to straighten up as if he was going to block her from Harry, feeling like she maybe wasn’t someone Harry wanted to see since they didn’t know her. No one seemed to ever recognize Y/N as Harry’s stylist when it mattered. Harry waved them off, a little drunk as well, but obviously recognizing Y/N.

“Darling!” He exclaims and raises his arms out to her. She grips onto him quickly and snuggles into him happily. With her still in his arms, he turns them from the prying eyes of the group he had been with.

She raises her head from his warm chest so that her lips are near his ear, “Congratulations, Mr. Styles.”

“Thanks, baby,” he purrs into her ear, his voice coarse and low, carrying over the music. She giggles at the nickname, her entire plan going out the metaphorical window.

Her fingers smooth up over the fabric on his chest, a nice short sleeve silk button down that was tucked into dark high waisted trousers - they’d picked it out last week. One of her fingers begins to trace around his collarbone after she reaches the opening of the shirt. His eyes flutter shut at the contact. They were so needy for each other. Each touch would coarse heat through them every time.

“I’m going…” She says after a moment of silence between them. The party was raging around them, most not paying any mind to the two of them off in their own world.

“Don’t go,” Harry practically begs. A hand flies up to pet over the top of her hair and she smiles even wider.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” she makes a face in response to Harry’s pout, “You have lots of people to entertain, Mr. Styles.” Her teeth capture her bottom lip as she stares at him intently.

He groans and pulls her closer. This time his lips brush right against her ear and she wants to shiver, but he keeps her in place. “If you keep calling me that, you’re gonna drive me insane.”

Her eyes widen but her hazy mind isn’t processing all of what is going on. She barely takes inventory of ‘baby’, for him to say she’s turning him on without actually saying it. Tomorrow Y/N would have to deal with that one.

She pulls back from him, creating space between their chests, but he still holds her waist close to him. She leans up and places a kiss on the corner of his lips. It’s technically supposed to be a kiss on the cheek but if she had moved her lips a millimeter to the right they would have been on Harry’s. This gesture has his grip tightening on her, but she pulls away.

“Goodnight!” She sings as she bounces out of sight, wiggling her fingers in a wave before completely being gone.

Harry sighs and runs a hand over his face, kind of in shock of the last five minutes. He had liked it. He just hadn’t expected it. When he turns his attention back to the group that was behind him, it’s not the same as it was before. Jeff looks at him with narrowed eyes and Harry’s eyes go wide and his grin widens as well.

Tonight is the management holiday party for Harry’s team. Y/N and Harry had seen each other two days after the Electric Ballroom to debrief, but mostly to get brunch. They didn’t talk about the little teases they shared at the after party. Both of them just assumed that the other probably didn’t remember and didn’t want to go through the trouble and embarrassment of recounting it. Alcohol has that effect of making you a little bolder than you actually are.

Brunch with Harry solidified Y/N’s thoughts on fame. Celebrity could be so strange, because there was the one day when she got photographed with just Harry’s jacket on and there was speculation of dating, but then she could go out to brunch with him and not be bothered at all. It made absolutely no sense.

Anyway, tonight there were no gifts, but Y/N had gotten Harry something even though he said he never needs anything. She hoped she’d be able to give it to him after they were walking back to their transportation since she wanted it to be a surprise and not have everyone know she gave him a gift. It wasn’t a big deal - or maybe it was - it was just an item she knew Harry had been fawning over. It was so him and she knew he’d probably end up buying it for himself eventually, but it felt nice to be able to give him something for once. Price didn’t matter. Still, she was a little nervous and tucked and re-tucked it several times in the back seat of her car before heading inside.

It was a restaurant his management had rented out for their party. She gave her name and headed inside. The lighting was overly dimmed and it smelled like expensive alcohol and delicious food. It was everything an A-list singer deserved as a celebration. She never could fully grasp that the Harry she had gotten to know as her friend was also the same Harry that the entire world was infatuated with, for good reason. He was charming in the best way, terribly sincere, insanely talented, and all around a good human being. She knew that, it just surprised her that everyone else knew it too. There was just that disconnect for her that she shared him with the rest of the world.

Her high heeled heels brought her to the backroom of the restaurant. They managed to shimmer even in the dim light. She had gone for winter chic with a sequin and mesh white dress, that looked like fresh snow with a cream and blue swirling design on the under layer so that her undergarments weren’t showing through. It was like a modern ice princess look that was finished with her heels that had sparkles on the entire back of them. Her hair was down and her makeup a little more done up than usual. She used a light blue eyeshadow to imitate ice and added some rhinestones on the inner parts of her eyes. She may have watched a Euphoria-inspired makeup look tutorial on youtube and she wasn’t afraid to admit that.

The scene she came upon was what she expected. Lots of men in suits and a good amount of women in power suits too. The people in any interesting clothes were Harry and his band. Some of the business people’s partners were dressed up more but it all wasn’t too exciting. Plus, Harry’s famous friends group hadn’t shown up yet. Y/N hid her disappointment easily, not surprised about the lack of flavor she saw in the style. She just repeated the mantra her mother had always told her: “You can never be overdressed, only underdressed.” It stuck with her always and made her go for those bolder styles when she needed to.

Harry was there, sipping on a glass of water. She figured he might not want to get started on drinking so early in the evening. Tonight didn’t feel like a drinking night for her either. After the last big party, she had woken up with a massive hangover and a few memories that she wished she hadn’t made. She wasn’t planning on repeating that series of events.

As she goes to grab a glass of water on the large table, she gets a tap on her shoulder. She spins.

“Happy Holidays, darling!”

Her eyes widen and her smile immediately grows. Harry grins back at her, his mouth open in the perfect winning smile of his and his eyes twinkling with happiness.

“Happy Holidays to you too, Mr.-” She stops herself, remembering back to the last party, “H.” She finishes firmly after clearing her throat. Harry’s grin turns to a wicked knowing smirk.

“I’m happy you came! I know you’re not super connected to all of the groups here, Harry Lambert is around somewhere though and I know he’s been wanting to talk with you about clothes.”

Harry watches as her eyes shine even brighter when he mentions the other stylist. It was true, Y/N didn’t really mesh with any of the groups that worked around Harry. The stylist kind of stood alone in regards to where she fit into his life, not the business part, not the band part, not the crew, and not the other celebrities. Harry Lambert and other fashion people didn’t always come to these events so it was seldom that Y/N had her own people to talk to. Not that mingling was hard for her, he just knew she didn’t like to do that as much so whenever another stylist or designer was there he always made sure to introduce them - if they weren’t already acquainted.

“That’s amazing! I haven’t seen him in ages… I’ll have to get his opinion on how I’ve been doing.”

Harry licks his lips as he laughs a little at her comment. She looked beautiful tonight and he wanted to tell her.

“Harry. What the hell are you wearing?” Her eyes flash as she takes in his appearance.

He looks down at himself and then back at her confused. They hadn’t picked the outfit out, but he thought it looked nice.

“Obviously not the suit! On your head?”

“Oh. It’s a gift from Mitch and Sarah.” He pauses to reach up to play with the headband sat on top of his curls. “It’s mistletoe and it seems like you’re standing beneath it. You know what that means,” he toys with it as he wiggles his eyebrows.

She scoffs sarcastically, looking to the side for a means of escape, “No way.”

“C’mon! It’s tradition!” He steps forward playfully and she places a hand on his chest.

“You can kiss my cheek.” She says finally and Harry looks at her disapprovingly.

He wags a finger at her with his free hand, “You’re the one under the mistletoe, you have to kiss me.”

“Okay that’s definitely not how this works! Now you don’t get any kiss at all, you cheeky bastard.”

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re the one with coal in your stocking.”

“Haha.” Her eyes once again roll to the side as she pushes him back and he steps back like she actually had a strong push. Then they both actually laugh and she gives him a quick side hug with a whispered, “there”. Harry smiles down at her, but it falters slightly when she’s already pulling away. He wanted her at his side the entire night, but sadly that wasn’t reality.

She drags him around the restaurant in search of Harry Lambert since the party had started to grow and she needed his height to get her where she wanted to go. Maybe. Or maybe she just liked the way he held her hand to lead her through the crowd that was most definitely not dense enough for her to have to hold on to him to stay with him at all.

She sees more of Harry at this party. They have some good conversations about plans for the holidays and snickering about who was already too drunk even though it wasn’t even midnight. She can’t believe he keeps on the stupid headband all night, giving and receiving various types of kisses from every person he talks to. Some are kisses on the cheek, others are friendly smooches on the mouth. Thankfully all of them are those cute little pecks that friends always tend to share, otherwise Y/N might have had to excuse herself and leave early. Jealous little thing.

As the night dragged on, she began to question herself on that front. Why was she growing jealous when friends would kiss Harry. She could've kissed Harry. She practically did the other week. But now, after refusing him a mistletoe kiss and seeing everyone else do what she didn’t have the courage to do, she felt childish. Well, childish or not, she knew why she couldn’t kiss him. Kissing Harry wouldn’t be just a friend thing for her. It would mean a lot more and if it was just a friend thing for him she wouldn’t be sure if she could handle going on with their working relationship after. Her job was the most important thing in her life. Being a stylist, loving clothes, and working on personal designs for the future was her life. Giving up this prestigious of a job was out of the question. Maybe the idea of being with Harry had crossed her mind, but she didn’t know how it could ever be realistic. If they got together could she keep her job? Would she have to quit? And find a new one? There were too many unknowns for her to ever actually entertain it. That’s why they went to the edge so often, she always would back away and she was sure that if she didn’t, Harry would for her.

He knew her. He knew her passion, he watches it firsthand everyday they work together. Even when they’re not working he can see her mind forming different ideas just based off of the things she sees people wear on the streets. He watches her fingers fiddle over her phone, typing out notes for design ideas and screenshotting inspiration. So every time they went to the edge of changing their relationship, he knew he couldn’t push it because he never wanted to hurt her or her dreams in some way. She was too important to him to simply mess that up. Even if it hurt him.

So when Harry slides in the back of her car that night at 2 am because Y/N says she has something important to show him, he’s fully ready to stop their flirting from going any further. And when she tells him she needs to show him something, she has the most pure intentions when she pulls out the nicely wrapped box, its wrapping paper a swirling lavender pattern that’s really not festive at all, but she prefers it.

He looks between her and the box that she’s now placed in his lap. His green eyes flickering even in the darkness of the car, the city lights illuminating the backseat enough for them.

“You know I don’t need anything…” He fiddles with the skinny mesh ribbon neatly tied around the box.

She makes a little gesture, pushing him to open the present, “I know, but I also know you’ve been wanting this and you deserve it.”

He unwraps the paper to reveal a Gucci box and he rolls his eyes at her, but smiles genuinely as he lifts the top of the box off. It reveals a 1955 Horsebit Shoulder Bag in beautiful shiny black leather. It’s gorgeous.

“I can’t...I don’t know what to say,” Harry’s eyes are huge as his delicate hands ghost over the bag's details. He had been wanting it and he hadn’t gotten the courage to buy it yet. He liked purses, but sometimes he even had his doubts about what he could pull off.

His eyes go back to her and she smiles widely at him, all her teeth on display because she’s just that happy. “This is a really expensive bag, Y/N.”

“If it makes you feel better I can charge it as a wardrobe expense, but then it’s not really a gift from me,” She sighs at his unrelenting gaze.

“Thank you.” He touches at the bag again and then does a dance in his spot. “And don’t worry, I will always remember this as a gift from you. I love it.”

She smiles and leans over the box to look at the bag, admiring the beauty of it as well. “It’s pretty great.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hums and she raises her eyes, seeing his trained on her face. “You’re under the mistletoe again, darling,” he smirks.

Her breath stops once again, how could he do that to her so easily? Their eyes stay locked under the city lights. The fake mistletoe bobs above them still connected to the silly headband. It’s colorful leaves and fun stripes mock her when she flicks her gaze up to it for a moment. Then back to Harry. Harry who’s holding the gift she just gave him. Harry who looks beautiful tonight. Harry who is her favorite person in the world to spend time with.

Now. Now is when she pulls back from the ledge. This is when she takes a step back and stops herself. When Harry laughs it off. When she pushes him away. When they go about the rest of their day like that electricity hadn’t gone up either of their spines.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, she nods in agreement and then crashes her lips against Harry’s. It’s not like those friend kisses that had happened with him all night under that same mistletoe. It’s hard and hot and fast. Her lips are pressed to his for one searing moment and then she’s biting his lip, desperate to taste more of him. She had been longing for this for so long and now that she had it, she couldn’t let it go.

Harry’s hands fly to her cheeks as he pulls her closer, more into his lap. He pushes the box into the front area of the car blindly. The gift was completely forgotten. This was a far more important matter. Her lips were wet and plush and they tasted like the single Manhattan she had halfway through the night and vanilla lip gloss. When she bites his lip, he can’t hold back the moan inside his throat and she presses her tongue into his mouth quickly. He was her oasis and she had been traveling for months. He responds with similar vigor, enjoying the way her body presses to his in the backseat of this little car.

They kiss for as long as they can. Licking, sucking, and biting each other’s lips to taste as much as they can. But it’s just kissing. Neither of them work to travel anywhere else. Their lips are seemingly enough. Each press of their lips communicates what they had been longing for. It’s euphoric.

When the windows start to fog and her eyes open for a random moment, she realizes they need to cool whatever this is.

“H-Harry,” She gulps for a breath of air and she tries to get his attention. “I gotta get home.”

“Come back to my place,” he mumbles into her collarbone, happily licking over his love bite.

She laughs and swallows slowly, “That is definitely out of the question, I have a flight tomorrow.”

He removes his mouth from her and straightens up. His lips are even brighter pink than usual and perfectly puffy. His hair disheveled from her hands. She blushes at the thought.

“Right, forgot about that,” he opens the car door and they both slide out. They stand at her car, just like they usually did outside his house. However this time is quite different from most.

They sigh heavily, in unison. The winter air is cold in London. She shivers slightly and knows she can’t stay in his presence much longer.

“Merry Christmas, H.”

He leans down and places one last sweet kiss to her lips. She wrinkles her nose and smiles unabashedly.

“Merry Christmas, Darling.”

Harry and her don’t talk as much while she’s back home for the holidays. There’s no work to be discussed and while they parted on not necessarily bad terms, there was definitely a conversation that needed to be had between the two. Neither seemed to want to have that conversation over the phone, or worse, text. So for the next week and a half, Harry and Y/N exchanged texts of funny memes that reminded them of each other and odd anecdotes from family members that had made them laugh. Nothing really substantial, just small, I was thinking of you messages.

When she walked out of the luggage carousel at London Heathrow Airport, she expected to be getting in the queue for an uber. Instead, before she could cross the street to get to the queue even, a tall man stopped her. A tall, scruffy, extremely buff, extremely handsome, and extremely kissable man. Harry. It would be terribly strange if it was anyone else.

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need a lift back to your flat?” His dark sunglasses cover his face and a big coat, scarf, and hat make him hardly recognizable. The curls sticking out from beneath the cute knit scarf are thankfully a dead give away for her. As well as his perfect drawling voice.

She shivered in the cold, her matching grey sweatpants and Treat People With Kindness sweatshirt had been warm enough on the flight, but proved inadequate for almost January in London. Yet, Harry’s presence brings a smile to her face.

“It’s good to see you, H.”

He laughs, his cover obviously blown. His arms encircle her body and she instantly melts into his embrace. His large coat easily fell around her and warmed her. His own natural body heat adds to her new found warmth as well.

“You too,” he murmured. His head buries into the crook of her neck, warming her cold skin.

He pulls back after a rather long embrace, realizing they’re still out on the sidewalk. He takes one step back and she visibly deflates at his absence, the cold once again surrounding her.

“Let’s get you home,” he grabs at the handle of her suitcase in one hand and her hand in the other. The warmth returns and she grins, placated by his touch.

“So are you coming to my party tonight?” He inquires once he settles into the driver’s seat after putting her suitcase in the back.

She shifts in her seat, arms wrapped tightly around herself, still cold without any warmth from Harry or the car. “Don’t you suppose there was a reason why I chose to come home today?”

Harry’s ears perk at the use of home, never assuming Y/N viewed London as her home, still it made him smile.

As the car purrs to life, heat immediately seeping out of the seats and vents, Harry’s phone connects as well. NFWMB by Hozier begins to play softly and she glances at Harry again. The song was so sultry and soft, like expensive dark chocolate melting on your tongue. The mood in the car seemed to shift. Their eyes met, Harry’s green ones narrowing at her, trying to decipher the look she was giving to him.

Then he drove off, softly singing along to the words through the sleepy streets. It was surprisingly quiet out for the holidays, people choosing to lay low during the day so they could celebrate the changing of decades in full force tonight.

After the song ends, his eyes travel over to her again and she’s already looking at him. She had missed his face. Sure, he’d sent some silly selfies while she was gone. Mostly on Christmas Eve with his family when he had gotten drunk on mulled wine and eggnog and brandy. Still, in person, he was even more beautiful. The high cheek bones that glistened with a shine most makeup could only hope to produce. Full raspberry lips with stubble growing to frame above and below. The crinkles growing on his forehead and by his eyes that showed him aging with grace. The precious few moles that had gotten lucky enough to live on his face forever. His big green eyes that were consistently bright with interest and intellect, but deep and knowing despite his loving demeanor. She loved those big green eyes, they were just so big and she didn’t understand how no one took the same interest in them as her. All of it, just sitting there beside her. Don’t even get her started on the soul that inhabited the beautiful man beside her. She never would stop spiraling then.

“What?” He asks softly, the sounds of Paul McCartney during some era fading in.

She blinks, hazily in admirance, “Nothing,” she replies.

“What?” He insists, laughing slightly, the lips she loves so much widening in excitement.

“Just missed you.”

Her voice is quiet but strong, serious. A blush creeps up his neck, taking hold of his features.

“Missed you too,” his left hand reaches across the console to take hold of her hand that resided on her thigh. He squeezes her hand softly and they both smile at each other again.

“Don’t worry, I can get my stuff upstairs. I don’t want you being out in the cold any longer than you have to. I’ll see you tonight, H!” She pushes her body across the console and places a kiss on his cheek before jumping out of the car. Harry makes a half smile, knowing he can’t change her mind. He waves to her behind the window as she travels into her building.

“See you.” He says to himself before driving back to his home to finish up preparing for tonight’s festivities. The party was going to be more intimate than the Christmas party at the restaurant. Tonight was just Harry’s family and closest friend - the band, Jeff and his family, Y/N, and a few others.

The whole night Harry and Y/N are within a foot of each other, if not on top of each other. He never leaves her side nor does she his. They are tethered to one another. The longest they’re apart is when Harry gets them refills of Champagne and Y/N journeys to the restroom. They laugh and catch up.

As the night goes on, Harry begins to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and she giggles and places her hand on his chest flirtily. Their interaction is a dance, bedroom eyes and low voices, lingering touches and suggestive lip bites.

When the countdown begins to grow closer, everyone refills their drinks and gathers in the center of Harry’s living room. They cheer and countdown to 2020. And of course, Y/N’s by Harry’s side as he begins the count. And when they get to ‘one’ and everyone’s saying “Happy New Year”, Harry and her are sharing a chaste peck to the lips that electrifies everything they had been saying to each other all night. She sighs into his mouth, but pulls away quickly, aware of their surroundings. No one particularly questions the kiss, either not paying attention or caring. Harry beams down at her and they enjoy the rest of the evening.

At around 1 am, the last of the guests stumble out of Harry’s homes and into waiting ubers and safe rides. Y/N lingers back, beginning to clean the discarded glassware and paper plates. Her and Harry are definitely tipsy, but they enjoy the cleaning work, making terrible jokes about New Year’s and commenting on what people wore tonight. When it’s relatively cleaned in the kitchen, Y/N wanders out to the living room and finds Harry reclined back on the couch.

“H,” She sticks out her foot and nudges him with her boot.

“C’mere,” he reaches out his hand to her, his coat discarded, leaving his arms bare with only a white tank top on.

She takes his hand hesitantly and is yanked on top of Harry in an instant. With a loud huff, she settles above him. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Shush,” his pointer finger goes over her lips, her eyes narrow at him, “Can you believe we’re seeing 2020?”

“Oh my god! I hate you!” She rolls her eyes at his pun and shakes herself from his hand around her waist. She stands up to walk away but he easily grasps her wrist and stops her, easily sitting himself up on the couch.

He looks at her and her annoyance, that wasn’t all too strong in the first place, dissipates. She sighs, “I should probably be heading home.”

“You should stay, it’s so late,” his hand rubbing over the skin on her wrist.

She bites her lip, contemplating the offer, he was right. “I’m really tired and we haven’t really talked, H.”

“But we-”

“Not about us. We’ve been skirting around it, flirting with each other all night, but we haven’t talked about what’s going on. I can’t stay if you expect something from me.”

“I don’t expect anything from you, Y/N. That’s not why I want you to say,” Harry says earnestly, realizing quickly what she’s saying. “I’ve never expected anything from you. An offer to stay is just an offer to stay.”

“Okay,” she finally smiles and sits down beside Harry.

“You can sleep in the guest bedroom, too. If that makes you more comfortable?”

“Oh...I don’t know if we have to take it that far. Plus, you’re like a personal heater and I get cold at night.”

Harry perks up, he had been feeling resigned that maybe she wasn't on the same page as him. He wanted to be with her all the time but also didn’t want to put any pressure on her. She just made him so happy.

“Great! Let’s get to bed then.” He pops up from the couch and brings her into his arms, “You know where all my clothes are, so you can just borrow whatever you want, and then I’m sure I have extra toothbrushes…”

She giggles into his side as she watches him ramble animatedly. Sometimes he was oh so bright, so joyful and carefree. A stark contrast from the quiet confidence he often exhibited for the public.

She woke up in the warm embrace of Harry. His whole bed smelled like him, vanilla mixed with spices of tobacco and sandalwood. It was delicious and she snuggled in deeper to the soft chest she laid against, breathing in his scent deeply.

They rested there for a long time. Harry makes his awakening known with a lingering kiss to her forehead. They both sigh in contentment, radiant in each other’s arms.

“What’s the plan today?” She ponders as Harry’s fingers trace patterns over her skin. He hums in thought.

“Wanna be with you…”

She laughs and looks up at him, “Me too, but we can’t lay around all day.”

“Well, we could.” Harry insists.

She laughs again and twists in his arms, settling so she’s facing him. She bites her lip as she thinks about something, scanning his face over and over.

“I’m gonna go home and get ready for the day. Let’s just explore the city and do some 2020 shopping. Who knows, maybe fashion’s changed since the last decade,” she grins.

Harry chuckles a little and pets at her hair, “I like the sound of that. And we can talk - about us.”

“Mmhmm.”

He tilts his head forward and meets her lips once again, savoring her taste. Each kiss makes him want more. She was good.

Harry lugs in the four heavy shopping bags into her flat, as she carries the single small bag from the chocolatier he had dragged them into. He presses her to the counter when he sets down the bags and begins to kiss her face all over. She giggles and places her hands on his shoulders, giving him a kiss to the lips before pulling away.

They had talked about what they wanted, what they saw in each other and how that fit into their work relationship and the rest of their lives. Harry would have to talk to Jeff, but more so as a by the way this is what I’m doing with my life, not an ask for permission. Y/N would continue as his stylist until the end of the tour cycle, but afterwards she’d go back to freelancing. They wanted to try to date and be as normal as possible. She told him how she didn’t love the fame or the celebrities. Sure she dealt with those things for work, but when they were off duty, she wanted to be regular. She wanted to go out on dates and make dinner on weekend nights. Harry had agreed, he wanted those things too and he understood her wish to keep work and their relationship separate. However, he’d made her concede to allowing kisses during work hours. She had laughed and said it was an easy term to agree to.

It was going to be a good thing. They were both giddy with excitement, the new year, and all the new things they had bought on their relationship high.

“Oh!” She pushed Harry further away from her and hurried into her room. He laughed and looked confusedly after her. “Wait there!” She called. Harry leaned against the back of her upholstered chair.

“Close your eyes!” She says before coming back into the room. Harry’s hands go over his eyes easily as he grins blindly in her direction.

“‘M waiting…”

“Open.”

Harry’s hands slip away and his green eyes blink open. In front of him stands Y/N holding up a hand knit brown sweater vest with horizontal red, cream and blue thin stripes along with the thicker brown stripes. Harry beams, reaching his hands out to take hold of it.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for later, but I found it at this vintage place while I was home and I couldn’t wait any longer to show it to you.”

“Darling, this is gorgeous. I love it! But you shouldn’t have...”

“I thought you could wear it for Lizzo’s concert. I know you said you liked the other sweater vest, but this one is so-”

“You spoil me, seriously.” He cuts her off and laughs before pulling her back into him. Their lips collide in a searing kiss, Harry’s excitement over the new garment making him eager to show her how much he really loved it.

A small sigh escapes her lips as Harry presses into her. His tongue pushing into her mouth in a way that turns the sigh into a moan.

“Let me show you just how much I love it,” He murmurs against her lips, casting the garment onto the back of the chair he had previously been leaning on.

She smiles, eyes fluttering open and meeting his with adoration swelling in their depths. Then she allows him to back their intertwined bodies into her room.

Some apartment in New York a few months later:

“I knew it!”

“Huh?” Aidy lifts her head from the skit she was working on to look at her friend and coworker.

“That stylist...for Harry Styles,” Heidi shifts, sitting up and turning her phone to face Aidy, “She was seen out with him, getting lunch in London and then making out on a street corner. I bet they were dating back in November when he was on the show!”

Aidy laughs, thinking back to her conversation with the stylist that night of Harry’s show. The girl had been so in love that night and Harry had been smitten all week, describing her in the best way, praising her every decision, yearning for her even. And now they were actually together...she was happy for them.

“I don’t know about that...but they were head over Gucci heels for each other that’s for sure.”

Heidi and her scroll through the pictures on social media of the singer and his girlfriend.

“They probably are the best dressed couple I have ever seen,” Heidi grumbles.

“Now that is definitely accurate.”

taglist: @meredithhuntt @sovereigndeadlyperfect @marauderswhisperer @toribentleyva @girlboss99 @harryssunflxwer @loverofaccents @stephaniemalvie @mk15x @beanholland @stfxlou @loliismutt @pinkisawesome101 @stilljosiegrossie @kikisparadise18 @clementimee

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harrys stylist right?#harry styles x y/n

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mitsukui · 4 years ago

Text

make it cream | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary: George finally tastes a bit of his own medicine ━ a sequel to ‘Good Girl’; if you still haven’t read it, I highly recommend you doing it so, because it’ll make so much more sense! (PART 1! + PART 3!)

Word Count: 2,5k (I know this got a little bit long, but take it as a ‘thank you’ present!)

Warnings: smut! Oral sex (male receiving), masturbation (male receiving), dirty talk, edging, cum play, daddy kink, degratation kink.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: the amount of support I got from ‘Good Girl’ was insane, you guys! I could never express how grateful I truly am for each and every one of you. Thank you for all the likes, the reblogs, the messages. I hope you enjoy this sequel as much as you enjoyed the first part. Please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention! ♡

@gecrgesweasley thank you so much for giving me permission to use your idea somehow! ✨

Masterlist!

You had grown a bit tired of it. Enough was enough. It was not like you were unhappy with it; most times, you actually enjoyed it enormously. But now, every single time was the same.

It was high time you dominated George Weasley.

The sensations you felt that night still lurked in your body. Images of his big hands lashing out onto your skin still burned in the back of your mind. The warmth of his saliva on your tongue could still be felt whenever you pressed it against the roof of your mouth. Your legs still trembled slightly when you thought of the overstimulation he put you through after he had fucked your face mercilessly.

That night had been the first of many. Before it, you had never had any complaints about your sex life with your boyfriend. He had always shown himself as a caring and thoughtful partner. But you had been relentlessly suspicious of something within him fighting to make its way to the light.

George’s façade concealed how ravenous he truly was in bed.

And his dominating ways had awoken something in you.

You caught yourself wondering during lunch breaks whether you could make him come undone only with your hands. You visited muggle sex shops after work frequently. You spent long, extra minutes in the shower, pleasuring yourself over the thought of degrading him, exactly like he had done to you so many times before.

All you needed was an opportunity, since you already felt confident enough to try a few things on him. All you needed was an opportunity. And, apparently, all the planets aligned on a Saturday night to lend you a helping hand with that.

As usual, he had decided to work on a few things for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in the comfort of his flat, where you tended to spend your weekends at. Midnight was slowly approaching, but he was still going over some numbers and projects he had planned with Fred.

You found him in the kitchen, leaning towards the small squared table. He was still in his uniform, and numerous parchments were spread across the place he was working at. One of his hands supported his chin while the other was used to fiercely scribble new considerations about previously discussed topics.

It was funny how he could turn you on doing the most ridiculous things, such as working. George was a very intelligent man, and whenever he poured his brain out into something, you could feel your knees buckling. The way he would share his and Fred’s projects with you without exception was quite cute, too.

But tonight was not about being cute. Tonight was about torturing him and making him beg.

“It’s late. Almost midnight. Let’s go to bed.” Your voice brought him back to reality, and he offered you a weary smile. In your eyes, the way he threw himself into his passions was beautiful; but, once again, you found yourself secretly desiring to help him relieve all of the stress that existed in his body.

“I’m not tired.” He said in a low voice. “And if I don’t have this ready by tomorrow, Fred is gonna kill me.” As he chuckled, he shook his head to himself.

“Well, he’s not anywhere to be seen here, is he?” You raised your eyebrows playfully. A big difference between the twins was that Fred knew how to disconnect from work when their shift was over. But George was different. He used to go for that extra mile quite often. And to you, that was beautiful, too. “And I know you’re tired. You know I know you like the back of my hand, right?”

You both stared at each other for a little while in silence before laughing softly. He gave up on pretending he was not tired, because deep down inside he knew you were right, and let his body to sink into the chair. His slender fingers loosened his dark amber tie, and your heart instantly skipped a beat.

“If you don’t want to go to bed, just let me do something for you, then.” You suddenly spat out, unable to control your excitement. The universe was right there, offering you a chance to do what you had been dreaming of for a few weeks. “Please.”

“Damn, princess. You know I go crazy when you beg for something.”

Your teeth were pressed gently onto your lower lip right after you whispered a second plead, and your eyes gained a new devious sparkle to them. The heat between you two was soon to elevate, just like that first night.

George spread his legs a bit and patted his muscular thighs, wordlessly telling you to sit on his lap, which you eagerly complied. You wasted no time in settling your body onto his, and pecking his thin lips once.

You reached out for both of his hands, and you swallowed hard at how big they looked when compared to yours, arousal starting to build up in your loins.

Looking intensely at his eyes, you placed one of his hands around your neck. He was fast to give your skin a delicate squeeze but, somehow, you craved for more. So you took his other hand to your lips.

They wrapped around two of his fingers, and your tongue ran over his skin. His exhaustion made his body more sensible than it usually was, and you felt pleased with yourself as soon as he threw his head back. Husky groans began to leave his lips when you started sucking on his fingers hungrily. You hollowed your cheeks, already moving your head up and down and rocking your hips against his body.

You could feel he was about to switch from groans to real moans, but things could not be that easy for him. You pulled his hand away from his mouth, a string of your saliva still connecting him to you. He sighed heavily due to the frustration that now took over his body.

“You are such a little whore.” He was panting slightly as his eyes fell upon you once again, and there was a light flush on his skin. “Daddy needs to teach you a lesson. Good girls always finish what they started. Open your mouth.”

“No.”

A flash of disbelief splashed across his face and it was almost as if the world had stopped for one or two seconds. He was unsure whether he heard you correctly.

His hands got a grip on your hips, his fingers pressing down onto the soft skin hard enough to leave some bruises there. “I said ‘open your mouth’, princess.”

“And I said ‘no’, Daddy.” A smirk appeared on your lips, adrenaline rushing through your veins faster than blood itself. You tilted your head to the side, and used your fingers to play with his tie and the collar of his shirt. “I’m not taking any orders tonight, Daddy. I’m calling the shots, for a change.”

After that, it did not take long until he was completely undressed in front of you, his hands tied to the back of the chair with his own tie, and his hard cock sprung free, laid on his stomach.

You had barely started teasing him, but he was already whimpering for some mercy. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed, and he felt like bursting into tears any moment now.

It was fun to be dominated instead of dominating, but it was something he was not used to. He did not know how to control his own instincts that well, and he was suffering. His desire was to cum all over your hands, but you said he could only do that when you allowed him to. Painting your entire body with his own seed was something he loved doing, but being unable to do it whenever he wanted to was causing tiny excruciating fireworks to explode inside his chest.

Your lips brushed against his left thigh, pampering the freckle-stained area with soft and small kisses. You eyed him while making your way up through his body, your mouth soon reaching his crotch for the first time that night.

He felt the warmth of your lips touching his cock ever so slightly, and returned to whimpering. A delicious wave of desire crashed within your body when you tasted the precum that leaked from his tip. However, you allowed your mouth to be restrained to that area only.

George attempted to buck his hips up to thrust into your mouth, but you immediately leaned back. “Now, don’t be a bad boy, Daddy.” The tip of his cock received a new substitute for pleasure without warning: your fingers.

Loud cries echoed in the kitchen as you ran your fingertips gently over his reddened tip. You were deeply mesmerized by his reactions, yet you wanted more.

“Would you like me to suck your dick, Daddy?” You purred, your voice dripping in lust and excitement over your recently discovered dominance. He nodded vehemently. “Would you like to feel my wet and warm tongue running up and down your shaft?”

Those filthy words were leaving your lips easily, and your nails were scratching his skin lightly. “Can you imagine receiving a sloppy blowjob, Daddy? Tears running down my face as your thick dick hits the back of my throat.” You wrapped your hand around him, and pumped him up and down a few times, your pace being terribly slow.

“My saliva getting mixed with your juices and, then, escaping my lips and dripping down my tits.” Your hand moved in a faster pace, but it was not fast enough for him. His chest started rising and falling, pleasure erupting in his body. “And, finally, your hot seed exploding in my mouth. Can you imagine that, Daddy?”

A giggle slipped out of your lips and went straight to his core. His cock twitched in your hand, and you pretended to be surprised. “Oh! You like that, Daddy?” Up until that moment, you had been enchanted by the sight of his tip disappearing and reappearing in your hands. But you finally looked up at him, and you swore you were in heaven.

George had his eyes closed, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. He was tirelessly trying to free his own hands. Even though his lips were apart and trying to say something, nothing was coming out of them.

“You know how much I love to have you in my mouth. You fill me up so well, Daddy! You are so thick, so big, and so veiny.” A little peck was laid on his tip, and his muscles tensed up as he tried again to be freed from the restrains on his wrists.

You finally put an end to his suffering and took all of him at once, his cock indeed hitting the back of your throat. You gagged and tears welled up to your eyes, but you persisted. Pushing your head even further down, you heard him moaning your name.

He was in sheer ecstasy. You carried on sucking him hungrily, and his needy whimpers did not cease. There was something about the way your bodies connected: he fit perfectly into your mouth, and he felt your touch could work wonders on him. Among so many lustful feelings and thoughts, he realized he was hopelessly in love with you.

“I-I’m close, princess.” His back arched a bit, and he groaned loudly. “Don’t stop.”

But you did. You stopped without thinking twice. And he cried out loud, frustration coloring his veins again. George tried to form coherent sentences to express his discontent, but it was difficult to think straight.

“You’re pathetic, Daddy. What do you think people would say if they saw you like that?” His thighs were splattered with delicate kisses like before. His breath was uneven, and he cleared his throat. Your words resonated through your surroundings, but he did not feel embarrassed at all. In fact, he was enjoying this far more than he expected.

“I reckon you are a whore. My whore, Daddy.”

Your fingers danced against his wet tip repeatedly while your other hand gently cupped his balls. His legs trembled violently due to the extra pressure you put onto his sensible tip. He warned you he was close to releasing one more time, but you stopped your movements again.

Your boyfriend mewled shamelessly, sounding like a desperate kitten. It was the second time you were edging him after a long session of teasing, and you could tell he was aching. The veins in his cock were prominent, and his tip was now taken by a dark reddish shade.

“All you have to do is beg, Daddy. I know you can do it.”

“P-Please, princess. Let me cum. I don’t know if I can take it anymore.” The tiredness he had endured all this time became evident on his voice, and you almost felt sorry for him.

He was a hot mess. Sweat dripped from his face, strength no longer existed within him to fight against the wrists restrains, and agony was the only visible feeling on his handsome face.

With a fond smile on your lips, you ordered him to cum for his princess as you pumped his cock in your hands for the last time. When he warned you about his release being close, you let go of his big shaft and watched it as it landed on his stomach.

You whispered dirty nothings as your hands ran up and down his body, and it did not take long for him to feel his orgasm being expelled from his tip. Thick strings of his seed covered the skin on his own stomach.

That was a sight to be proud of.

You moved your body closer to his, at last removing your knees from the cold kitchen floor. Trying to soothe him a bit more, you used your hands to caress the sides of his body that still trembled slightly. Without warning, your tongue collected all of his cum into your mouth. He felt your tongue running up and down, side to side, over his abs, and his torso jolted in overstimulation.

His taste was amazing to you, and you felt incredibly close to him by doing that. You, then, realized you were hopelessly in love with him as well.

With a tad of effort, you finally stood up properly. Your intimate moment had taken its toll on you, too. Knees were sore, legs were weak, and throat was slightly sore.

You leaned down towards his face, and his eyes confessed he could not take any more bit of teasing. Your thumbs stroked his cheek bones, signaling it was really over now. But you still squished his cheeks gently, and his lips opened only for you.

His own cum was soon deposited in his mouth, and he moaned at the new sensation. You brushed your tongue against his lips and, once you were free to talk again, you did. Your voice came out like a hoarse murmur, but George thought it was incredibly sensual.

“Can you swallow it, Daddy?” Your fingers continued on caressing his skin and he nodded weakly, your eyes watching him swallow his own release. “You’re such a good boy.”

“I’m going to fucking destroy you next time, princess.”

“Bring it on, Daddy.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #smut #🌼 — personal: writings

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animefreak1145 · 4 years ago

Text

For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)

Previous Next

Chapter 4| I Am Thee and Thou Art Me

Chapter Summary:

The action's you do is for survival and no other reason.

You don't understand other's actions though.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma

Chapter Warnings: Mental/Emotional Anguish, Toxicity, Self-Loathing

A/N: Bottled beer is liquid hope and you love pictures.

Footnote: Translations at the bottom.

“Bell” Second Life 08:16 | February 26, 1981 West Berlin, Anita Wronski Cafe

“Looks like you’ve met death in the face, Bell. Rough night?” Lazar questioned, poking fun as they grabbed breakfast for everyone in line.

You rubbed your eye before pinching between your brows.

“Something like that,” you said tiredly as you looked around the small cafe. Distantly taking note of Lazar’s statement with a dry smirk. “Didn’t sleep well.”

Small metal tables inside with metal chairs to match, both with interesting swirls for patterns making up the surfaces. There were more outside, the cafe a bit cramped in the first place even with just three tables again the wall. The smell of sweet German pastries and salty breakfast flooded your nose, making you lick your lips despite yourself not being hungry yet.

You were already up an hour beforehand, wondering to yourself how you and Adler could be in the car once more into the safehouse. Only to ‘volunteer’ when Lazar knocked on your door to help him grab food for everyone, apparently Adler already gone and left to the safehouse.

You internally frowned at that, you’re not sure why before you felt grateful. You would rather not talk about. . .whatever happened in his car. Which was nothing.

The flash of a clenched hand on the wheel as if holding back and a taut jaw came to the forefront of your mind.

Marionette’s should stick with their role.

It was nothing.

Lazar snorted, making you turn towards him as they both stepped up to the cashier. Lazar pointing towards the dessert window of what to get in a box as you spoke in German to the woman. Several more items of breakfast were ordered that will take some time to make, so they moved to sit to the only open table inside the quaint café.

“You drunk what—four cups of coffee yesterday, Bell? And looking at a bunch of nonsense for hours as if your brain is steel and your eyes can’t melt out of your head.” What a nice vision. Lazar took a sip of the German coffee he got for himself, eyes lighting up at the taste before looking back at you. “All that must’ve been stuck in your head and probably even in your dreams. Had any floating codes flying around your mind as you slept by any chance?”

That’s not quite right, but you’ll take the excuse handed to you as you shrugged. Lifting your own cup of coffee that you doused in three creams and two sugar’s, humming for a moment in agreement to Lazar at the strong and bold taste before taking another one.

“You can say that. I would have kept going and working until I got tired. You would call me a night owl so to say.”

“You seem pretty alright to me now,” Lazar observed as he leaned back in his chair.

“I have an impressive work ethic. Better than others I think. I’m used to going to sleep late and waking up early.” You can infer that your body is used to this schedule, harsh and strict work ethic that you must’ve gotten when you worked with Perseus. “Although, I admit I’m not very hungry right now. You chose a bad partner in this.”

“But you volunteered,” Lazar stared ever so seriously and another sip to his coffee. You could see he was fighting a smile.

You huffed through your nose, shaking your head.

“Yes. How could I have forgotten. Like I did for Kraus.” Lazar slightly winced at the reminder of how you got kidnapped, muttering an apology which you waved away. “It’s fine. I was the best to do that anyways.”

“You sure are pretty accepting with all this work. Just asking and taking files like nothing, ” Lazar rose a brow, you couldn’t tell if it was for being impressed or disbelief. You didn’t say anything to that, the both of you just sipping on their coffee and waiting for their meals to take to the car before heading back to work. You’ll walk past the center table easily and just sit in your chosen desk. Maybe get a lecture about professionalism which you will just absently nod at since you will make yourself feel numb if you have to, just to get away from the man in any way. Lazar paused at your far away look, your cup by your mouth yet you’re not drinking, instead of looking at a simple framed painting of Germany’s hills at the wall. ". . .As much as the boss man likes to act like it, we're not machines,” you blinked out of your reverie, your eyes flicking towards Lazar. “You're not either. Even though you understand numbers with little pattern and words that would have no connection normally—be able to put it together and have it make sense."

You blinked once more, albeit slower.

"I...I know I'm not a machine."

"Do you? Acting like you don't sleep and eat, besides those seeds of yours like you're a bird yesterday outside of the one meal I brought you. Do you sing too?" You released a surprised laugh at that, short as it was with lips still up. "That's better. Thought your lips stay flat like that. I swear, it seems both you and Adler are obsessed with Perseus. See why you're his protege now."

You were struck at Lazar’s words, focusing on him with a frown. The implications that the both of you were similar making you look down.

“Guess we're two peas in a pod.”

You mumbled the last bit, as if to yourself as you lowered your cup on the table.

"What? Oh. . .guess you could say that. But remember this Bell," He throws a pastry at you as you quickly catch it before it met your face(you would always have to be prepared for that before), blinking down at your hands before looking at the kind faced Lazar. "Lighten up. We'll get him so don't push yourself so much. And eat real food too! Seeds! As if that's food."

Your mind showed you moments from your previous life, Lazar always teasing and making you eat and try as much as different food as possible. Away from your decryption tasks as he would wave your plate under your nose as if to entice you.

“No point in being greedy,” The kind man would say, wry smile playing his lips with a tone to match, after letting you try food from his plate, even encouraging it. “Memories—memories with food should be savored and light and new dishes should be enjoyed.”

You thought of when you first found out the truth, still recovering from wounds of Cuba as you sat—away, away from that gurney—and guilt with Lazar—should’ve been quicker, perhaps you would’ve been kinder, kindness is a lie—and asking Park if Lazar knew. About you. About this. MK-Ultra. Everything.

You stared at the Israeli man for a moment before smiling, a mischievous thing. Genuine. Like the man in front of you.

"I am smaller than you, it's enough for me."

"Now you're just poking fun."

Lazar was always kind.

Oh, how he played his role perfectly for you.

At this point, you’ll take what you can get and stop wondering with him. You’ll go mad.

Foolish американский щеноk. The collar around your neck has choked all the trust for others in you.

Best, you think as Lazar easily teased you again, an unreadable look in your eyes as you take another sip of your drink. To just not feel at all.

The breakfast the both of you ordered came, Lazar grabbing the bag as movement behind the counter caught your eye. A worker bringing in a new dessert towards the other German sweets, yellow and round and looking spongy similar to a cake but with a crust like a pie. You walked back up to the counter, pointing and asking the worker in fluent German what was that. Her replying with a smile that it is their pineapple kasekuchen, the German’s take in a cheesecake.

You turned your gaze to the sweet, lost in thought before raising your hand with two fingers up to order, the worker nodding.

You grabbed the box and walked up to the curious Lazar by the door, his brow arched as if asking a silent question. As the both of you exited the bakery and walked towards the car, you still not saying anything and only periodically glancing down at the box with the kasekuchen, even tightening your grip a tad around it when the crowd around them got a little too close, Lazar decided to speak.

“You know,” he began, and you took note that he sounds amused. Almost knowing. You pretended to stay oblivious. “There was this mission I was on in Thailand with Adler a few years back.” At the mention of Thailand, your memory of yesterday in Adler’s car still fresh, you looked towards Lazar as they walked. “Something covert and recon with the usual stray chance of a suicide bomber. The standard for our great unpredictable job. Keeps us in our toes.” His tone was a mix of sarcasm and easygoing, as if suicide bombing in a country was like if he stated it’s going to rain again. Where is he going with this? “Anyways, when we weren’t doing that—we’d stop at this corner store near the safehouse we were in. Boss man would always buy his precious cigarettes, leaves the other stuff we need to actually sustain us to me. Except, he would get something else too. To eat and I always thought each time I saw that, that Adler is human after all.” He glanced down at you, one brow raised. “Do you happen to know what it is?”

You huffed, turning your head away. Them reaching the car and you going to the passenger side as Lazar stood by the driver’s side—still unopened and leaning his crossed arms on the top of the car.

“You sure like playing games today,” you dodged with quirked lips, shuffling the box in your hands to hold it in one as you moved your free one to open the door. “Volunteering me again and calling me a bird and now having me guess what a man like Adler would get besides his addiction. You want to talk about machines, look at him.”

How the puppet lies so so sweetly.

Lazar hummed, deciding to open the car and the both of you going in and settling as they placed the bags down by you to make sure none of it spills. After they pulled out from the space, Lazar spoke once more, offhandedly and an interesting turn of the lips.

“Pineapples sure are sweet and tart. Pretty good too.”

You don’t say anything.

Just made sure your hold on all the boxes of food for everyone didn’t tip over as Lazar would turn. If your grip with the kasekuchen was firmer than the others, you didn’t notice.

Feed the god and you might get a reward.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You squinted behind your closed eyes, shifting in your uncomfortable sitting position in the foxhole with only dirt and soil to help cushion you within the trench like pit. The crickets were loud, deafening in the jungle with a periodic squawk or call from a bird deep within. You shifted, your M-16 moving down in your lap from the movement despite your lucky green cloth gloves holding it as you blearily opened your eyes, blinking them against the darkness until they got used to it. The half moon helping somewhat in giving light as well as the fireflies flying around in the dance where only they heard the music.

They were still on their way to Hue City, night coming upon them quicker than expected. The jungles are harsh and thick, especially with the route they’re taking due to their stealth and recon mission, but the planned route was still underestimated. It did not help the planned foxhole they were going to got covered, completely useless and the time to make another one is time they don’t have. Luckily, they were able to find another, although this one was tighter. Two small foxholes that barely fit the five of you, hence having to sit basically in a ball against the wall of dirt behind you.

All of you were doing one hour intervals in keeping watch, the watcher usually standing up in the foxhole in order to watch their surroundings. And if an attacker did come, they could duck within the foxhole for cover.

You felt like you should’ve woken up for your shift already.

Your eyes focused next to you, finding the spot where Larson was supposed to be standing empty. You hastily stood, pack heavy against your back as it tensed in protest at the sudden weight, your hands tight against the M-16 and about to call the other’s names at the missing soldier only to stop.

Your standing position giving you new access to see more besides the sky above you, surrounded by brush and green foliage of all types with high grass upon the ground. Larson sat, just a few inches away from the foxhole a little to your right, staring up in the starlit sky. He turned his head towards you at the sound, seeing you were awake before turning his head back, as if you weren’t there.

“Larson,” you whispered, not wanting to wake up the others in the foxhole next to yours. When Larson didn’t move so the two of you could switch, you reached out to tug on his pack on his back. “You can’t be out in the open like this. You don’t know if VC or NVA might come by in the area.”

“Let them,” Larson said brazenly but just as low, making you release his pack in surprise. “Besides, there’s a bunch of shit around here to cover us. Even this grass is kinda covering my face. Nothing will happen. Now, go back to sleep and leave me be.”

You stared, before sighing. Carefully looking around once, twice, before coming out of the foxhole as quietly as you could—using the open holes on the dirt walls to place your feet to get out. You sat by Larson, who ignored you and went back to staring up at the twinkling sky.

You took a moment to stare at it too. This far in the boonies, away from cities and cars and just filled with wildlife, it has a sort of bewitching air around it. Despite the loud chirp of the crickets, the call of the birds, and how one would sometimes have to smack any open skin for stubborn mosquitos—the trees, the grass, all the greenery that looked dark in the night outside of being lit by the fireflies and the stars and moon above. You were struck once more, just how beautiful this country was. With it’s natural serenity as the moonlight not covered by clouds touched lightly upon to aid somewhat with the darkness but not as much as a flashlight would do, still, the moon did its best even if it was just at it’s half tonight. The stars were there to support it and you wish you learned more about constellations than your books, you’re sure you could spot all of them and weave stories of your own instead of reading them.

“You know,” your attention shifted to Larson, who still gazed up as he spoke, lost in thought and appearing away from here as he spoke quietly. He does not wish to wake the others it seems. “I don’t know if you remember me telling you this, but I grew up on a farm. Small. Not very fancy and it was just me and my family—Ma, Pa, and my two brothers and sister. Out just taking care of our cattle and our horses. Middle of nowhere, we would have to drive about an hour to get to a good grocery store that isn’t just a corner store or gas station. I hated it more that the closest school was about the same length. . . But what could I do? Needed an education, at least some, and than spend the rest of my life worried about a farm. With all it’s cow and horse shit, waking up before the sun does and at the end of the day you smell like all the shit you cleaned up.” He ended, sounding tired and yet with the bitter words it had an iota of equal bitter amusement.

You maintained your silence, instead moving your gaze back and forth around them. Not looking at how Larson’s lips quirked begrudgingly, head tilted up towards the silent night.

“. . .there were a few good things though. When me and my brothers and sister were done with work, and the moon was out—we’d head out to where the cattle were. Laying down on the grass without a care, why bother? We were already dirty with sweat and dirt and shit. And we’d look up—and than—“ Larson reached an arm out, as if to reach the sky, only to clench his hand and put it down back by his lap before gripping his MP40 hard where you could spot how white his knuckles were. “. . .laying down, in the grass, in the middle of nowhere, with just a dark black sky over you. . .it felt like it could swallow us. Whole. Not caring about how we looked or smelled or how old we were. . .it made us feel small. Yet huge. If we pretended enough, we could act like we can really touch the moon. The stars. I guess it just showed all of us there was more, than this little farm. With it’s shit and it’s smell and being in the middle of nowhere. The black sky might just eat us to put us out of our childish misery. Maybe that’s also why we kept going back, not just cause of fucking beautiful it was, but maybe. . .”

Larson trailed off and you decided to speak up, softly. Not wishing to break this odd aura around them, because this was more than talking about how small a human’s life is.

“‘If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you,’” you quoted, Larson cocking his head slightly and glancing at your from the corner of his eyes. You released a small fleeting smile. “It’s a quote. By a German philosopher called Friedrich Nietzsche. A depressing guy but. . . I feel like his words fit. The abyss swallowing. . . perhaps it is more you become one with it. A fusion. Where you don’t know where you begin and the abyss ends.”

Larson turned his head away, grabbing a handful of some grass and pulling as he moved his eyes back up.

“Who knows? Maybe. . . shit,” Larson dryly chuckled, “maybe, I should’ve stuck with staring up at my family’s farm home—staring up this abyss right here but there instead. Than maybe. . .you know, I would say sappy shit in my letters to her?” You didn’t ask who ‘her’ was, you could fill in the blanks as you wisely kept silent. “All words about the moon and stars and we were staring at the same one so I wasn’t that far away cause we stared up at the same thing’s. That she had stars in her eyes and if I looked up, I could see her in them. That she pulled me to her like the moon does water and just—shit. Fuck. ”

Larson hissed, putting his head to his hands. His shoulders slightly shook, you could barely tell in the darkness but you imagine he is holding himself back.

“I loved her,” Larson said, voice all cracked and broken as his breath hitched. “I love her still. And she’s—she’s leaving. What will I have when I come back? Go back? I—there’s nothing. We were. . .I went to war for her . Our country .”

You kept your mouth shut. Letting him release his sorrow and emotionally charged words that made zero sense such as that. You learned, especially on the beach night, it is not wise to depend on another’s support when it comes to actions of war.

You didn’t even give Larson the full quote earlier either. You do not think he needed the full one, but you know yourself what Nietzsche was going for. You think Adler might like it actually.

Eventually, you managed to put Larson back into the foxhole as you took watch by him. Standing in the foxhole as you did your shift. A few minutes officially in however, you took note of noise in the foxhole next to you. You turned your head, noticing Adler’s head was out, helmet on and war paint slightly losing their color. You can see his stubble starting to really come in now. He had his shades on, even at this time, in this darkness—but you could tell he was staring at you. Something clicked as you lightly sighed.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.”

You nodded, turning your eyes around their surroundings with your M-16 in front of you and gripped at the ready just in case.

“You left something out,” Adler said after a while, voice low to not wake the others that it sounded husky to your ears. You glanced at him, brow raising questioningly as Adler’s lips lifted to a knowing smirk. “I don’t know much, but my high school education isn’t too laughable I think. I know that quote. You missed the whole beginning and just gave him the end.”

You blinked, before shrugging as you peered up at the sky for a moment.

“He didn’t need the beginning. Just the end.”

“Some might call that yellow journalism. Or lying.”

“Others might call it wise,” you retorted lightly. “He didn’t need to know it. It wouldn’t have helped. So why give it? Besides, we know it. We’re the only type of people who need it.”

Adler hummed, whether it was in agreement or in thought, you couldn’t tell. You took note of him shifting, hands a little fidgety around his M60 and you felt sympathy swell in you. He hasn’t been able to smoke since the start of this mission, having to be cautious with any type of smoke. You don’t know personally, but you know that the craving for cigarette’s were mind consuming if you did not have one to quell it. Perhaps this conversation was a welcome distraction.

You wonder if this night is just you going to be playing silent therapist.

“Do you think Larson should’ve heard it?”

Adler answered as he kept his dutiful watch around, him facing the area behind you as you focused in front.

“No. He just needed someone to listen. Poor bastard should ask for R&R after this. I’ll grant it to him, maybe he could go to Australia and just wind down there for a week.” He scratched at his face, the war paint surely feeling a little off since he first put it on. “Forget about all this. All of it. The States. The war. He needs it. Hell, we all do.”

Your lips formed a teasing smile.

“Even shadows and monsters need a smoke?”

Adler chuckled easily.

“Everyone needs a smoke as far as I’m concerned. Maybe less people will act like they’re one push away till they make a shitstorm the rest of us need to clean up. But sure, kid, ” he half shrugged, focusing on the sky above with all its celestial like bodies. “Larson might’ve been onto something though with what he was saying.”

“Which part?”

Adler chose silence as his answer, staring up for another moment or two before huffing and turning his attention back onto the ground.

The two of you stayed guarding for a few more moments. You didn’t bother asking Adler why he was up and you had this watch, just like how he didn’t seem to bother to order you to go to sleep. You felt like once more, there was an understanding between you two. Still though, it didn’t stop you from the question bubbling in your throat.

“Since you know the quote,” Adler hummed lightly, showing he was listening. “What do you think Nietzsche was referring to, that the reader itself hasn’t fought with other monsters yet or from experience because he is a monster to not have other’s fight him?”

Adler scoffed quietly, amused.

“Just cause I know the quote doesn’t mean I constantly wonder about it’s meaning, Bell.”

“Humor me.”

“I thought I told you earlier I’m not here to spoil you.” You threw him a sheepish grin, Adler sighing and shaking his head as his expression turned inquisitive with how he pressed his lips together for a moment. “It’s a warning. That’s how I always saw it. But it’s not one we need like you said earlier, kid. We don’t need it.”

You didn’t ask anymore. Because as you thought more into it, he was right.

Nietzsche wrote a warning, to the innocent reader and the oblivious society that put emphasis on morals and truth that he did not agree with.

‘Battle not with monsters, lest you become a monster. And if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you.’

Monsters do not fret about what they already are. Just as they are not worried if the abyss ends with them or if it begins.

“Get ready, kid.” Adler said much later as they all slowly woke the others up to move, his eyes squinting behind his glasses as he stared past the trees, the bushes, and the greenery as the beginning of dawn started to rise. “It’s going to be a shit show in a few hours.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Bell”

Second Life

14:02 | February 26, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You see yourself as one with patience.

When it comes to this sort of line of work, it is required. A sort of fortitude and composure that not all can be able to acquire but must be needed for this—for lives at stake based on whether you can put up an act or have the tact of an eagle capturing a snake, all sharp claws and silent feathers against the hissing strike. ты хочешь быть американцем товарищ.

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time,” as said by one one of your favorites, Leo Tolstoy, from one of the best works in history: War and Peace.

You recall last time—stop clinging, you stupid dog—when you stood outside the safehouse in the cold with your head to the book, Adler stepping out and taking note of your book with a cocked brow. Stating his surprise at your book choice as you mumbled something or other as you read, that it is an integral book. You even stating the same quote back to him, a surprise to you when Adler didn’t know of it. Listening as you explained it with a flick of his lighter and calm inhales and exhales of his addiction, showing off where the quote was as he leaned in slightly. Your heart pounding as his warmth was felt without even touching, than a brush of his shoulder to your back as he drew closer. Than it was gone.

“All grim thoughts and wise words with you, eh Bell?” Amused. A fleeting turn of the lips that stayed longer and a gaze that lingered as he stared through you under those shades. “Make sure you take a breather when you raise your nose for air from your books. Can’t do this without you.”

He would tease, but didn’t stop you from taking your reading breaks outside for fresh air. And he’d always ask, curiosity in his expression when you’d show him a line each time. You thought it was special. Their own little thing where you would raise your book and he would lean to you and they would touch.

“Bell, open the door.”

It was just cruel kindness.

Patience, you are using it to your fullest. You can do what you must and see if your actions can work up to something—all your effort and hard work being seen as a good little tool.

Though, time—time is something you may not have. Unless you make sure you’re loyal.

You were quick to drop off the breakfast on the center table, ignoring Adler’s rose brow as you moved. The pineapple kasekuchen in their rightful place. You avoided and didn’t speak outside a quick “good morning” to everyone else and went to work, breakfast by you whenever you got truly hungry.

You didn’t think about why you bought the dessert. Outside the rationalization it shows your loyalty. Perhaps a peace offering to ignore what happened the night prior. You didn’t think much about that at all.

американский щеноk.

Until he called you over to his desk with a wave of his hand, your chest thundering with your eyes wide as you wondered if he’ll say anything. Take you aside in private to talk. About last night or the sweet, you’re not sure. Only for him to motion for you to sit, tapping his knuckle against the file on the desk. You took note the box of the kasekuchen wasn’t there anymore(must’ve already ate it or threw it away) as you blinked, slowly sitting in the seat across from him as he slid the file towards you as he asked your opinion on it.

You scanned, mind wandering and flying, before you glanced up at him. His favorite mahogany leather over him that is second skin, a lighter shade of blue for his collared shirt today under him and his mouth free of a cigarette as well as his hands. Those aviators still on his head, a part of him. Sort of like the beanie—ski—mask over your head as he looked down at another report in front of him. As if he didn’t call you over from your desk to his to help with a file when he could’ve just left it on your desk. As if you didn’t cross a line—you always cross the line, over, behind, or creating a completely new one to do what you must like he does whatever it takes but it was wrong, you are no saint, pitiful mutt—yesterday with your words and questions.

A hand reached towards the file in front of you, knuckle tapping twice, more force this time.

You focused back on the file, only to see Adler already took his hand back. Continuing to read as he patiently waited for your consensus on the file before you.

You were struck than how he’ll handle this, understanding dawning on you as your gaze focused and turned to the file below you and picking it up.

If he wishes to pretend as if it never occurred, it’s fine with you. It’s best either way for both of you. You have too many worries already, Adler included. Best to leave certain things out your mind about the man lest you’ll get clouded. You’re trying to survive. Not get caught up in and tangled in mind games.

You spotted in the corner of your eye Adler give a ghost of a nod, the tiniest tip of the head, imperceptible to others but you knew. He gave a similar one when you captured Volkov, walking up to you with a calm swagger and gloved hands around his weapon, as he moved his head in approval. Such a good girl to be happy with just a nod. Satisfied. He’s satisfied. He knows you understood. Understood him.

“You know me too well.”

“Guess we’re two peas in a pod.”

“I need Bell.”

You raised the file closer, over your mouth formed in a subconscious echo of a pleased smile. You didn’t even feel it. Nor did you feel electric blue eyes behind shades glance towards you before turning back to his work—the silent agreement to keep what happened last night to themselves written and signed without the two of you having to open your mouths.

Coward, you wanted to snarl. To who, you’re not sure. You just focused on what Adler gave you. You’ll need to have Adler let you live so you’ll need to not just be a perfect asset to the others but a person to him.

You have to do what you must.

“Damaged goods.”

You have to.

“You remembered.”

You flicked your eyes towards him, file momentarily forgotten. He didn’t look up from his own file, continuing to read it with the expression he always has when concentrated—a hint of pressed lips that reveals his dimples and brows lowered than usual where it would be difficult to see due to his shades. You would think that mania has truly taken a hold of you, with it’s dark tentacles filled with dark thoughts and mental anguish or rather slithering and multiplying vines where Lykourgos grew mad due to Dionysus’ vengeance except for you it is with choking collars and stifling leashes and cutting strings. He looked as if he didn’t speak at all. All the quiet focus of a war hardened CIA agent that didn’t have a ring on his finger but was married to his job with a badge to show all the same.

But you knew his voice. As if it was your own.

“We’ve known each other for years.”

“Fought together. Bled together. Been through Hell in Vietnam together.”

“We got a job to do.”

“ B e l l, o p e n t h e d o o r . ”

The poor американская сука loves pain like a drug.

“I wasn’t sure what you would,” Adler spoke again, your eyes focusing on him once more. His head still was tilted down and a little to the side, shades facing the paper but you believed he glanced towards you. “The coma did a number on you with your memories. I know you’ve been saying it’s only been about Vietnam but you never specified about what. Or if you happened to remember anything else.” He didn’t state it like a question but he might as well have.

Of course he would ask. Why wouldn’t he?

Nonetheless, you knew what he was referring to in his earlier statement. He ate them. You picked up your file with a small huff.

“Hard to forget, Adler. Of course I would remember. You would hold those cans like a lifeline,” your lips lifted at the memories, of Adler trading with others if he must to get his precious golden ambrosia that would appease him similar to his cigarettes. You kept your lips up despite the quick recall the memories were fake—the trading of trash, the quiet understanding to not speak of it, of beautiful Vietnam foliage and unforgettable talks—just as you glanced at him and continued easily. “Glad you liked them. Wasn’t sure if you would. As for other memories. . . it’s still only been with Vietnam. I haven’t gotten anything else.” Adler hummed, cocking his head a tad before your lips formed more of a smile that you felt. “But at least I still know what I like or don’t. Can’t imagine a clean slate.”

“That’s normal,” Adler said, shades now facing you as you somewhat hid your face with the file. The only thing him being able to see fully was your eyes. “Learn how to calm down and that you can’t take all these shots like you’re a target in a shitty gun range. Might remember more.”

You found yourself snorting, rolling your eyes. Finding dark amusement at his words despite yourself. Perhaps you are growing insane.

“Based on what you told me in the hospital, you would’ve had some holes instead.” The way you said it, it sounds like you still believe it. Like it was real. Dance puppet, dance. You turned up your lips into a semblance of a smirk as you looked over the file towards him. You maintained it even though you think the both of your eyes connected despite the shades hiding. “You don’t have to worry, Adler. I got your back. Always. A few shots is nothing.”

It’s what you would’ve said before. It scares you how much you meant it previously. As if your life was forfeit if it came to having Adler live longer. Nothing else would matter as long as he lived. Nothing. As if the world would come to an end if he fell—the only one that could hold it and keep it straight.

Perhaps he is Atlas after all. . .

The loyal dog with the pretty collar will always protect the master.

Cursed due to his cruelty.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Adler stared at you for a moment, as if assessing your words. Scrutinizing them. He than reached into his jacket, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Once he did the first drag and released his puff, away from you as you observed the smoke curl around them, he looked back down to the papers on the desk.

“How lucky am I that I got you around than, kid,” he replied, all low and earnest as he took another drag. “Just don’t go dying on me. Can’t have Sims talk to his shrink about something else. He’d be heart broken.”

Adler said that sentence a little louder, so it was no surprise that Sims by the desk put down his magazine and called out.

“I resent that!”

Adler’s lips twitched in response, but kept his gaze down as your heart thundered.

You thought of an explosion to the chest, your heart open and bare for more reasons than you planned. Of soft words to your ear that sounded like regret and something else as you coughed. Of a gentle touch that held you up, hands wandering from your waist to your stomach—stopping just short of a bleeding chest as if they wanted to stop the red—redredredredred—from flowing out but hesitated. An encircling of arms that released heat as you grew cold—you don’t like the cold much anymore—while an expression was carefully guarded with eyes hiding behind a shaded curtain.

You felt your throat tighten. The need for answers to unanswered questions reaching a head.

“Just Sims?” you asked softly, a little breathless and a little confused at said breathlessness.

He glanced up, aviators slightly down and you could barely see his eyes as he exhaled a puff, eyeing you. You staring as his brow lifted for a moment before it settled, an interesting look in your eyes that one might call forlorn. And something else that is dangerous and not meant for monsters who are better alone.

“Maybe another life, kid.”

Mind thine eyes dog, for they show you yearn the impossible.

“You know the answer, Bell. Everyone would be,” Adler leaned slightly back in his chair, cigarette between his fingers in his customary hold between his ring and middle finger. “You’re part of the team. What kind of question is that?”

“You’re still one of us.”

He knows what he’s doing. Just as he knows what you mean.

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down with squinting eyes at the file. Your hand making it a little wrinkle and you don’t know what you expected. What you’re expecting. He hurts. He pretends. Why would he even answer truthfully when he can dodge and feel less guilt about a hole in you caused by his hand?

He’s—

You felt a nudge against your knee, you looking up in shock with a quick inhale at the unexpected touch. It staying there—his knee, he’s touching you—as you watched Russell tilt his head at you, brow up and lips quirked with a cigarette around it and looking wry and relaxed—what is this, why, what could this be for, why is he doing acts that are pointless yet mean everything when he could just be distant, you are getting worked up over just knees touching, you touch starved little thing—as he motioned his head an iota to the left. Your eyes following the movement to see Park where she was, nearby with her desk and a headphone to one ear but the other still able to listen in despite how naturally quiet you and Adler are with your soft voice and Adler’s low tone.

Park? What does she have to do with anything? And why would Adler of all people care?

You frowned, only for your lips to flatten in realization of her words to you about Adler. To stay away. You now wonder if she did a similar warning to him.

“Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

You wonder if the pissing match that was imperceptible and the slight tension was more than just two agencies trying to come to an accord.

But why would Park warn Adler?

You glanced back at Adler, who gave a half shrug as if to answer your silent question. It only raised more. You moved your knee back closer to your form and Adler didn’t react as you did so. The both of you turning back to the files that Adler requested your assistance.

Not thinking in the back of your mind of fleeting touches, lingering looks, or a voice to your pounding ear that tinged with remorse even though you couldn’t see his face.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You and Park just recently finished going through the report you and Woods got from Ukraine. Sims and Lazar were in the back rooms where the gun range was while Park was in the Red Room. Last you checked, Adler was still in his office with a call while Mason and Woods were by the weight lifting equipment and taking turns to work off some steam due to what was discovered. You were putting the findings up on the evidence board with tacks, careful to not stab yourself. You wouldn’t be as concerned if you were wearing your gloves which you put away earlier by your bunk bed, but than again, you’re quite careful with your gloves. Not only because of the quality, but who got the leather gloves for you when you were just recently discharged out of the hospital back in the States.

You smiled, putting the last tack on the board only to have a sudden weight around your shoulders. You widened your eyes, briefly alarmed only to turn your head to see it was a smirking Woods.

“Done? Good! I’ve been holding off till now but it’s time to fucking see what you’re really made of Bell.”

You blinked, confused and still reeling at the fact you didn’t sense his approach at all. Your mind will zone out over the littlest of things lately. It concerns you. But it hasn’t been a problem so far out in missions, so you think it’s alright.

“And how exactly I’m going to do that? Thought I showed you enough back in Ukraine.”

At that, Woods laughed as he basically tugged you to where Mason was, who was shaking his head at his friend and shooting you an apologetic look as you just smiled that you were okay with it. Their van door open in the back as well as a table and chairs in front. You took note of the packs of beer and you see what Woods meant as he sat by Mason in the van on the floor, you sitting down and observing as Woods took a hefty gulp of a beer.

“I think I know now. But,” you glanced to where Adler’s office was, “is this wise? Isn’t Hudson coming over here soon?”

Woods slammed his beer down, causing some of it to come out as Mason sighed at the wastefulness.

“Man, fuck Hudson!” Woods wiped his chin harshly, irritation coloring his features. “I want to forget about that nutsack for the rest of the day. When he comes, he better not say shit or I’ll punch him again. Maybe with that shit will stop coming out his mouth.”

Mason chuckled, having his own beer in his hand as his eyes wandered to his longtime friend, shifting as he got comfortable in his seat.

“How’s the hand?”

Woods scoffed.

“Pfft. Nothing fancy,” Woods looked at said hand, clenching it as he moved to crack his knuckles as he grinned wildly. “Ready enough, like I said, if Hudson says something smart.” He punched his fist against his hand, muscles flexing noticeable despite his jacket as you couldn’t help but laugh along with Mason.

“I still can’t believe you punched him yesterday,” you spoke up, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine anyone punching the intimidating harsh man that is James Hudson. Soon after your discharge, you had to meet with him back in Langley for the mission before all this Perseus business—although you suppose supporting the Polish union Solidarity in fighting back communists have everything to do with Perseus. You don’t understand why the man seems to dislike you so much, especially if the two of you worked briefly before which you sadly can’t remember. He must always be like that with others, Woods doesn’t seem to like or appreciate Hudson’s icy countenance either way. You don’t quite appreciate the man’s secrecy about the nukes, so you see why. “If I even breathe the air wrong around him, I think I will be dead come morning. I don’t think I’m exaggerating.”

“You?” Woods asked, amused incredulity in his tone as he faced you. “The one who basically took out three Heavy’s by your lonesome? Scared of that ball face? You’re shitting me!”

Mason rose his brows as he turned towards you.

“You didn’t say that in the report. You holding out on us, Bell?”

“Right?! Now open a bottle and tell Mason here everything that happened.”

You rose a brow, amusement shining in your eyes, your hand moving to the pack of beer before stopping. The memory of the arcade room making you smile knowingly.

“Everything?”

Woods made a face, cheeks looking an interesting color that Mason caught as he nudged his friend with his elbow.

“What’s she talking about Woods?”

“Nothing! Jesus Christ Bell, didn’t know you could be a little shit like Adler can.”

The words bounced off you easily, already used to the man’s vulgar personality from the mission and even before the mission to go over details, as you shrugged, smirking as Mason kept pushing Woods on what happened as Woods would grumble or drink his beer to avoid answering. At Adler’s name however, you looked back at the office, slightly biting the inside of your lip.

Your breaks thus far outside of eating has just been reading your books or a quick game in the back room. Never for a drink like Lazar would do with Sims and Park at times. Adler, at least what you know of, hasn’t drunk and just has stuck with his cigarettes. You don’t even remember the last time you drank. All you know is that you like it.

But. . . you’re not sure if Adler would approve. You’re always focused on your work and great at it, he depends on you to maintain your focus to catch Perseus.

You subconsciously put your hand in your jacket, feeling the polaroid as you thought.

Woods noticed your apprehension and called out to you, you turning your head back.

“Whatcha fuckin’ worried about? You’ve been working all day from those codes and whatever the shit you put on the board. I don’t think Adler would want you to be worked dry where you don’t even think straight.”

“Only booze can do that,” Mason added helpfully.

Woods nodded, looking too serious it was almost comical since they were just trying to persuade you to drink.

“What he said.”

You took a moment before you shrugged, grabbing a beer and opening it as you stated that you guess you could drink with legends. Woods huffing at you, soon calling you cocky in realization as to why you made fighting Heavy’s not a big deal and not impressed with him. Mason seeming to find it funny as the three of you drank and talked about the mission more freely and colorful words with Woods. You did slightly flush when Woods told Mason you were a nerd for playing a quick game while there were Russians preparing for their training course, Mason snorting as you hushed them when Park grew near them. Not wishing for her to find out.

Quickly hiding it by inviting her to join just as Lazar and Sims came back, the two men seeming to easily join in as Park contemplated as she stared at the beer. With a sigh though, she sat by Lazar as she took one.

“Next time, I’m buying the alcohol here. You bought rubbish, Woods.”

“‘Rubbish?’ And beer is beer, nothing wrong with good ol cheap beer sometimes,” Woods defended. “Adds to the flavor.”

Lazar smiled, raising his bottle.

“Cheers to that.” Lazar and Woods tapped their bottles in the middle when they reached over, an easy aura settling between the group.

Sims got a bottle, assessing the name as well as the pack as he did a dog whistle.

“Germans know how to do one thing right, and that’s beer. You’ll be fine Park. It could be worse,” Sims took a drink, humming as he did so while Park frowned at her bottle when she took a few sips.

“Worse?”

“It could’ve been canned,” Mason answered, speaking from experience that made you raise a brow as you took a drink, settling further into your seat. “Canned cheap beer you can basically taste the metal. There was one time back in the States where I practically shitted myself due to this cheap beer I got at this random gas station in the middle of nowhere. Ruined my night.”

“And your pants it seems,” Lazar commented, mirth clear in his tone before he released a laugh along with Sims guffaw at the Israeli’s words. Park shaking her head but anyone can see her smile on her lips as Woods stated that’s what happens when you’re in “bumfuck nowhere” and probably got experimented with weird moonshine.

You snorted in surprise, covering your mouth as your imagination pictured the soldier rushing to the bathroom lest an accident happens. Mason? He seems so serious all the time, which you can understand why. You’ve read up what you could on everyone here, the description’s were small but you could fill in the lines. He’s lucky that he has such a good friend like Woods.

It soon became a trading of stories between everyone about drunk nights and how they reached that point, Lazar running with a bowl of chili and Woods determined to make condom water balloons and Sims was just finishing his own passed out in random deck chairs story when the door of the office opened.

You immediately turned towards where Adler now stood, staring at all of you as he closed the door and currently free of a cigarette. Your anxiety only grew when Adler turned his head towards you, as if he was asking you personally on the situation as you could only throw him an apologetic yet impish smile. Adler’s brow rose.

“Adler!” Woods called, raising a hand and motioning it for the man to come over. Adler approaching the group as you could only stare and tried to get a read on him. Alas, it was hard to discern his mind even if you could spot him glancing at everyone and the table with bottles. “Join us while there’s still beer left! Planning to drink all of this before Hudson comes. He can’t say anything if there’s no evidence.”

Adler hummed, stopping behind you and Sims as he appeared in thought. A trickle of hope coming up your chest at Woods offer.

“All of you are in luck,” Adler eventually answered, the subtle amused tone not lost on you as you intently focused on it. “Hudson isn’t coming till early in the morning tomorrow. Got caught up with something with Black. Can’t imagine how he would react if he saw all this.”

“Fuck ‘im,” Woods spat, reaching for a bottle and throwing Adler one. Adler catching it with his hand, shaded eyes turning towards the bottle to read the label. “We’re not here to please his every whim and cater to him like we’re his butlers. I say it’s a perfect time to wind down. We were just trading stories of getting shit faced.”

“All of you were,” Park corrected easily, “I don’t plan on sharing any such event.”

“Never say never, Park,” Lazar said, a grin playing on his lips as he winked at the British woman. “I’m sure a lady like you has quite a collection of stories.”

“A lady never says her secrets.”

You were still staring up at Adler as Sims playfully groaned at Lazar’s flirt tactics that Park didn’t seem to mind, Adler tilted his head down and met your eyes. Seeming to assess before turning his gaze towards the evidence board, which now had additional papers than previously since he entered the office, assessing. He than turned back towards you, you impatiently waiting as you shifted in your seat to see if he would let all of you continue, his eyes seeming to follow when your hand went to your jacket pocket.

Adler released a huff of soft exasperation, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t see the problem. We can all use a break from all of this.”

You practically beamed as Woods whooped, you moving a seat over where you were now next to Woods. Adler taking your seat as he sat by Sims now, opening his bottle as he asked whose story they were on. Sims continuing it and finishing before Lazar had another one. You listening with a smile or laughter, feeling the most at ease since this whole mission started you think. You believe that Adler must feel the same way, appearing relaxed as he sat and leaned back against the chair, beer forgotten and customary cigarette on his lips as he listened.

It made you want to take a picture of this moment. You standing up and announcing to the others you’ll do just that, Woods raising a brow at you.

“You and pictures. You a photographer or something? I hope you’ll at least show me what pics you took of me instead of those Red’s building.”

Your cheeks felt heated as you turned towards Woods, standing over him with fists clenched by your side as you called his name, askance. Making the man laugh at your expression, your irritation leaving you due to it but you gave him a warning look and call of his name which he caught. Not wishing for you to say the story, as Adler watched nonchalantly.

“Pictures? Got distracted again, Bell?” He asked, almost sounding like a tease only for the others to join in that you really loved that camera. You pursing your lips and appearing like you were pouting, as you turned away and got the camera from the Red Room quickly. Taking the picture of everyone only for Woods to motion his hand for it to your bewilderment.

“What? Don’t you want one with you in it too?” Woods asked, grabbing the camera from your hands as he grinned up at you. Adler and Park glancing at each other behind you, Adler flapping his cigarette hand uncaringly in answer. Mason raising a brow at the exchange but staying silent as his eyes moved back towards his loud friend.

You didn’t think of that but you stated you wanted one with everyone than, Park raising her hand for the camera to do the setting for it to be timed and placing it on top of Sims car he was working on earlier. All of you turning your chairs slightly, getting close with beers in hand and you trying to maintain a perfect smile even with Adler’s knee touching yours. The camera flashed, you feeling something by your head only for you to lightly punch Woods shoulder once you saw he must’ve gave you bunny ears in the photo. Him laughing away as you fought your own smile, his rugged charm rubbing off on you as Adler inhaled quietly as he watched the exchange.

The stories than eventually moved to mission stories, and than, unsurprisingly—to Vietnam. At this point, Park and Lazar retired for the night—Sims eventually doing the same when he noticed it turned to Vietnam. Which left you, Mason, Woods, and Adler—Adler just finishing up the story about what happened in Hue City, leaving a few details out you noted but loyally and wisely kept silent, as Mason took it in with a slight nod of his head.

“So that’s what happened on your side. Shit. . . that whole place was a shit show since the beginning. Lucky I only had to do a quick in and out by just getting a dossier.”

Woods snorted, nursing his fifth beer.

“That whole war was a shit show. Only good thing that came out of it is telling stories about it years later in a depressed warehouse. While a whole other type of war is happening.”

At the mention of the reminder of them losing that war, you spoke up.

“Not the only thing,” you couldn’t help but say, lost in thought as you looked at the ground.

Adler turned his head towards you as Woods and Mason did the same, curious.

“And what’s that, kid?”

You kept your gaze down for a moment more before flicking your eyes to the side towards Adler.

“We’re all still here, aren’t we?”

✯ ▙ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▞ ✯ ✯ ✯ ■ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▞ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▙ ✯

Ȳ̶͇̝͐ó̶̘̈ṵ̴̡͑͒ ̴̯̗̅ŵ̴̭͘â̸̭̼̤n̵̼͚̘͑t̶̠̮̯́̏ ̶̭̝̱̄́̅ţ̶̠̑̈̚ǫ̶̳̉́ ̴̘͖͊͊͘ͅ ̵̡͋́ṣ̶̞̆̚ ̴͚̲̕ț̸̓ộ̴̍̐p̴̣͓̾́ ̴̫̗̆͜ḫ̴̛̦͓́́ẽ̴̛̻̋ṛ̵̲̞͈̅͠ę̷̼̯͔̍̌͌?̶̫̩̆͆

̷̼̈́

̵̣̽̉͛

̶̝͋͂B̷̝̾̾u̸͚͊̕ţ̷̛̭͖̈́̾ ̶̱͑̔i̷̩͇̤̐ṯ̴̪̓̓ ̷̜͊d̸̆͜į̶̩͔̉̏d̵͔̓͝n̴̨͇͒’̵̰͑́͂ţ̸̯̯͋ ̷̧͖̣̿̒e̴̥͋͝n̴̘̱̿̕d̸̛̤̹̔ ̵̡̡̩̈̐h̷̫͔͂͜ë̴̺̜́͑͊ȑ̶̺͉͠ĕ̴̥̉.̴͕̭͌̕͠

̸̠̹̿̊̿

̸̠͊̅

̸͙͓̬̂͒͝Ë̶̼̙̭́͘̕ ̶̳͆v̵̱͙̿̋ ̴͔̇̋ę̷͚̫͆̃̈n̵̥̣͈̏̅ ̷͇̮͒͊ ̴̛̺ ̶̡͆t̶̢̘͒ḧ̷̺̉ě̸͓̼̂ͅ ̶̬̲̫̈b̶̟̪̒̒ę̵͊͝s̶̟̱̐ţ̴͙̳̆̚ ̶͔̈́d̸̝̭͑̈́͒o̸͖͑̓g̸̨͌̈́̀s̴̹̫̖͗̅ ̶̯̝͛ḷ̶̬̔͌̐i̷̘̥̓́k̴͕̓͝ĕ̷̡̿̽́ ̵̖͗̾͘ţ̵̟̤̈́́̽ö̴͖͕͙́͗͝ ̴̦̂͊͝r̶͉͈̊̆̔ų̴̝̋̈ņ̶̼͛ ̶̭̦́.̶͔̇̄

̶̫̘͒̌̿

̵͓̱͇̆̕͠

̷̧̰̙̇͝B̶͕̐̐̓e̸̖̟̋ŝ̶̨t̵̗̎̀,̴̯̥̐̕ ̶͚͓̓̀́ť̶͐̂͜ŏ̸̢̿̉ ̵̨͎̄̿͆ć̷̣̓͑́ơ̶͔͓̋̿̔m̵̧̢̩̃ê̸̘̠̠ ̴̰̫͠͝ͅb̶͇̔̒ą̶̤̯̰̽͊c̸͈͗k̸̩͉͙̓̿ ̷̻̼̰͆ẃ̶̞͙̃͒͌ḧ̵̘͑̒̃e̵̜̰̓͘͝ń̶͙͒̚ ̵̪̖̥̊̈́ȑ̷̢̌̎ẽ̸̛͇̂ͅà̴̞̖̫d̸̤̺̽͛ỳ̴̰̊͝ ̷̠̌͝f̴̢́͊o̴͉̒͠r̷͕͙͙̽̋́ ̶͈̾̉t̴̥͒͘r̷͉̘̐́ų̸̠̔̋́t̴̨͚́̾h̷̖͕̯̀̒͛.̵̫̟̬̄

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Bell”

Second Life

15:47| February 26, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

Soon after you said your thoughts to Adler about the file, you moved to go back to your desk only to pause by the T.V. You turned back, Adler raising a curious brow as he put out his cigarette with his ash tray nearby. You asked him for any other files he may need help with, Adler saying nothing as he reached another file by him and handing it to you. You grabbed it, your black leather gloved hand grazing against his bare one as you took it. Taking note of what he said about it before turning to your desk and staying there. Ignoring a probing stare in the back of your neck.

You’ll do what you must, but if he expects you to stay by his side when he inconvenienced you earlier by making you come to him. . . Well, you think a little petty action is worth it.

Besides, you have to think by yourself for a moment. The call about Volkov squeaking his rat mouth should’ve came already. By nighttime—you, Adler, and Park should already be on the way to Ukraine and meet up with Woods and Mason.

Woods and Mason, you think fondly with a sad smile of a whirlwind of a man drinking back beer after beer like water with a deep throated laugh and the silent soldier with sad eyes yet listens attentively and a kind smile that brightens. Oh, I’ve missed you guys.

They were barely in the safehouse, out in missions constantly when you would decode and just being the team’s powerhouse duo. When they were here though, the safehouse was louder. More easy and free, less stifling and grim due to the work they were doing. They had a certain charisma very different than Adler’s, one’s that captured you in a different manner so it is no surprise you managed to get close and hang with them more than anyone when they were here. Sims being distant, Park communicating with MI6 about the CIA, Lazar determined to woo the agent when he wasn’t cleaning and prepping weapons, and Adler was. . .busy watching you were in line you suppose.

Card games and stories being shared, Woods and Mason not seeming to mind when you were around them. You suspect Woods let you get close to make sure you don’t tell his precious secret and blunder back in the arcade room in Ukraine. Although you would tease him that you might at times.

You feel like that in your other life, Park was right. You don’t think those two knew about your situation. It just made you like them more.

Because at least with them, you’re positive it was real.

“I knew I could count on you.”

You wished they were able to save you from Adler though. But they were tired and celebratory of what they accomplished. They took in Adler saying you and him were just taking a detour at face value.

“Do not trust Adler. He is lying to you.”

Adler always lies.

You have to remember that. And to just brush away any kindness he may show.

It’s not real.

Is it?

A loyal and trained dog through and through.

When you saw it was nearing 1700 hours, you looked around where Park was. Seeing she was with Adler in the corner by the weights, conversing with him with a crease in her brow while Adler looked as if he was only mildly taking note of her words as he puffed along his cigarette. A trait of his you knew frustrated the British woman. Adler likes to feign disinterest a lot. It could be seen as a weapon to make others talk due to how irritating it could be or make one cautious at how apathetic the man can act or look.

You walked over to them, your ears getting the tail end of whatever was ailing Park.

“—not making light of this and reign it in. Oh, Bell.” Park’s tone softened, a sharp contrast that stood out to you as she noticed you step up to them. Adler not even glancing at you as he continued his smoke, or at least not turn his head towards you. It’s dark in this corner so you wouldn’t be able to tell if he turned his eyes towards you or not unless he moved his head or body in your direction. “What’s wrong? Any new updates on the decryptions?”

You shook your head, looking between the two of them before settling on Park.

“What’s the word on Volkov? He talk yet?”

Park sighed.

“I’m afraid not. He’s proved himself stubborn despite his tastes being similar to what makes the U.K. great.”

You cocked a brow, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“Medieval torture devices not his style?” You asked, calling back to what Park said about Volkov’s hobbies.

Park matched you, amused as she shrugged lightly.

“I believe the lack of scotch is what will do him in personally.”

“He has to talk soon,” Adler cut in, exhaling a puff as you and Park turned towards him. Adler faced Park, arching a brow as he continued calmly. “Your guys over there aren’t giving him a good time right now, I imagine. The last thing we need is for him to be tight lipped.”

Your throat turned dry. You think you regret mentioning this as Park answered.

“He’s not the type to remain loyal if his back is to the wall. His selfish demeanor and arrogance will what cause him to try to strike a deal with us. It will benefit us than him in the end once he breaks.”

“If he breaks,” Adler added with a frown. “If he still doesn’t talk by the next two days, we might as well have killed him once we saw him. He’s useless.”

“She’s of no use to us anymore.”

You swallowed, moving to pocket your hands in your black bomber jacket as your hands clenched along with your jaw.

Park frowned at Adler, disapproving.

“He knows a great many things. Not everyone can handle interrogation for so long and be able to stay silent about anything that might give them reprieve.”

Oh, look, you thought sourly, bitterness starting to rise once more as you maintained your blank expression besides your taut jaw. They’re complimenting me. How nice of them to say I wasn’t easy for them.

Control your tongue, you stupid dog.

Adler huffed, it almost sounding like one mixed with amusement and exasperation as he shook his head slightly.

“Perseus’ people are almost as slippery and conniving as Perseus himself. And dangerous.” Adler took another inhale and exhale, the smoke curling around them and going over your head as your gaze lazily followed it to distract yourself while Adler did the same, tipping his head up to watch. “Perhaps he knows if he talks, he might as well be dead. We don’t need an Aldrich in the MI6 either.”

Park’s demeanor straightened at Adler’s accusation, the possibility of having a traitor or spy in her agency a great insult. She was about to say a scathing retort surely, but you cut her off.

“He’ll talk,” you say cooly, unreadable gaze towards Adler as he finally turned his head in acknowledgement towards you.

“What makes you so sure?” He asked, curiosity lacing his tone along with intrigue as he moved to place his cigarette for another puff.

You straightened your shoulders as you stared deep into his aviators that shadowed him properly to be America’s Monster.

“They all eventually do.”

Adler paused his hand, lips not around his craving as he stared towards you. Both your gazes not breaking even as Park looked between the two of you before settling with staring at Adler with slightly narrowed eyes.

Adler pressed his lips, a whisper of a smirk as he did it and nodded towards you once more before turning back towards Park.

“You hear that, Park? No reason to worry. Everyone talks. Right, Bell?”

“Yes, sir.” You say, ignoring how your stomach churned yet your heart pounded. You’re no saint. “We both know how to make them.” You slipped out, knowing eyes not leaving his face as you twisted a knife.

Adler didn’t seem to notice, or care really as he seemed to throw Park a mildly triumphant look. You don’t know why it would. You wouldn’t either and can care less about those you tortured—whether false or real.

Monsters do not worry over every drop in the red ocean they created.

Y o u’r e n o s a i n t, д е м о н.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You had headphones in, listening to the audio log to finish up the decryption despite the lack of other Intel so you could put all your focus on Operation Red Circus. Instead of the exchange earlier, all of them.

So you didn’t hear when the garage door opened and a van to come in, but you did when it got slammed closed. You jumped in your seat in the corner on your desk, hidden behind the evidence board and the T.V. You lowered your headphones, curious to see what was going on and if Sims brought in another car, only for your breath to hitch in your throat. You standing up so quick your chair almost fell back as you stood next to the T.V., heart thundering only for it to stop as you stared avidly, wildly, madly, hopefully.

Adler moved his hand to guide the red van in, sighing out a puff of smoke as the driver came out.

“Hudson barely gave me any warning about this before you guys arrived. Didn’t think he was going to give the okay on this based on the latest call on Volkov.”

“Well, you know Hudson,” the voice that spoke was quiet yet deep with how it spoke in easy amusement. If one strains their ear, you could spot the reserved soldier with sad eyes and a kind smile. “Always the one that loves to talk.”

“Pfft, yeah,” this one, this one was all rough and throaty as if it got abused in the past from events unknown but one can guess. If one just takes a glance, you could discern the storm stuck in a body yet does a light drizzle for friends despite the thunder. “Hudson’s a real charmer. Don’t tell me that the Russian Godfather decided to finally open his mouth right when we got here.” At Adler’s nod, the one man army groaned. “Man, jet lag is going to be a fuckin killer! Forget hotels, I’m sleeping here until we head out.”

They’re. . . Your hands shook by your side. Not paying kind to Park who stepped out the Red Room, head turned towards you and approaching you as she called out to you. You only stared as you bit the inside of your lip.

Sims, who helped pull the van in and was now leaning against the side of it, shook his head amiably with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t do that unless you’re fine with a raggedy ass mattress that looks like hasn’t seen the light of day since the ‘60s.”

“I believe the ‘70s personally,” Lazar spoke up as he sat on his desk, empty plate of takeout near him. “It still has potential if one’s desperate.”

“Yeah, well I’m desperate. Now where is it?” He turned his head along with his friend, comrade, forever ally just as they took a few steps close to where Park’s desk was and seeming to notice you the first time. Adler tilting his head at you, you silently just staring at the two as if you haven’t seen them in years, puffing silently as his brow rose curiously. But you could only look dumbly, eyes feeling a little pressure. They’re here. “Who are you and what the fuck are you looking at?” Woods asked sharply.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

Your lips lifted into a smile before it opened, letting a loud bark of a laugh come out. You’re laughing.

When was the last time you laughed? Genuinely?

You could practically feel the stares, but you didn’t care. They’re here.

They were real.

Once your laughter calmed to chuckles and giggles, clearing the corner of your eyes for any possible tears, Adler stepped up between you and the two soldiers. Giving you a quick once over behind his glasses, you waving your hand at him dismissively slightly at his unanswered question, his brow furrowing before relaxing as he put an arm out towards you.

“Woods. Mason. This is Bell, my protege. I spoke to you about her before.”

You quickly fixed yourself and your expression as you took a polite step forward, you probably look absolutely insane. They don’t know you despite you knowing them. Calm down. You just didn’t expect that a change like the others would be this. Oh god, you looked insane.

“Sorry,” you began, a tiny sheepish play to your lips, “I just—you guys are both legends and I just didn’t expect to see you guys here. At least, so soon. You could say I was a bit. . . excited to put it lightly. Hope I didn’t scare you off?”

Woods and Mason stared at you, Mason having distant amusement playing in his brown eyes as Woods non-subtly leaned towards Mason, a hand slightly covering his mouth.

“Careful Mason,” Woods falsely whispered as he eyed you with suspicion. “We have a rabid fan on our hands.”

“I think she can hear you,” Mason didn’t try to whisper but it didn’t matter as Woods suddenly snorted as he crossed his arms.

“Listen here, Bell. The last thing that’s gonna scare us is someone who got excited about seeing us like we were the fucking—what is it these days? Someone gimme a hand.”

“You talking about bands?” Lazar questioned, Woods nodding as he glanced behind to where the dark skinned man stood by his desk, Lazar staring up in thought. “There’s Fleetwood Mac still going on.”

“Not like how the Beatles was going on,” Woods answered, a little too seriously as you fought a smile while Mason moved and leaned against the evidence board.

“Hear there’s growing popularity with AC/DC and Kiss. They’ve been on the radio a lot lately.”

Woods swiped his hand back and forth as he made a sound of disgust.

“You comparing us to those guys that look like they came out of hell, Mason? What do we look like?”

“I think it fits,” Adler dryly stated, clicking his lighter on to light his cigarette. Woods telling Adler he’s not helping as Park came by next to you with a hand to her hip.

“If demons don’t work, there’s always the Queen. And I’m not talking about the one I serve.”

“Queen is pretty good,” Sims said from behind, “but you guys had to have heard that new song Celebration by the Kool and the Gang. That shit hits.”

“Whichever!” Woods turned towards you asking you how exactly you know about them, you answering honestly that you read up on them on the computer. Seeing no point in hiding it as Woods gave a vicious grin towards you. “Well, aren’t you a nosy little shit. You always read up on everybody?” You were once again honest, saying you like to be thorough with everything but you only had a brief description to go off about them. Whatever secrets they may have is safe with them. Woods sniffed, slightly backing off and Mason appeared to have relaxed his shoulders. “A nosy shit with manners at least. And balls to say all of that to our faces despite what you read.”

True, if you did not know Woods and Mason. Despite that one time where you truly felt their intimidating aura on you, once you get to know them, they’re softies that are loyal. Even with Woods barbed and vulgar words and Mason always observing quietly behind with an assessing look in his eyes, you know they’re shields. Walls. To help with whatever occurred before—just like everyone else here.

And, just like there’s walls. . .

“There’s no innocence here,” you answered, shrugging with a bitter smile.

Woods stared at you for a moment before guffawing, pointing in your direction as he turned to face Adler who stared at you behind his shades as he inhaled his addiction.

“Where’d ya find her, Adler?” Woods asked, before than flapping his hand. “Answer that later. I need food and to knock the fuck out for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You repeated, even though you already knew as Adler answered.

“Let’s go over the details briefly. You were right, Bell. Volkov talked.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You watched after the meeting how Woods moved, all loudness and an army in one body with the propriety of one would find in any soldier—none at all. Refreshing. Needed. Even though he looked at you strange when you offered to help with setting up his bed that was all dust and old in the storage room by the generator.

You wonder in the end, after the cliff, how Woods reacted after just saving you from a large sheet of metal debris. Is it naive thinking that he might’ve been mad?

You looked at Mason, more careful with your approach as you smiled softly at him while you gave him the quick rundown that everyone has a spot chosen for their work. That they could use the desk by where they put the projector if they want. Mason raising a brow at you but letting you once you wisely gave him his space.

Would Mason be furious? You were unlucky because you were under the wrong flag. You were born a Russian. If you weren’t than, maybe, they would’ve kept you like they did him.

Meanwhile, Adler—a gaze that never falters, and eyes that are all-seeing with how hawkish they could be, does he see(?)—observed you silently as you moved to and fro with an energy that wasn’t there before. And a smile that looks genuine. He sits back, and watches.

“Shame you were born in the wrong country.”

There’s a lot of shameful things that are tied to you. But like any good monster, any foolish Icarus, and any stupid girl—you’ll ignore them.

American pup—американский щеноk

American bitch—американская сука

You wish to be American, comrade—ты хочешь быть американцем товарищ

Demon—демон

I don't know if it's been too subtle--but Bell isn't exactly. . .mentally/emotionally healthy right now. Adler is just everywhere. But maybe Woods and Mason can help now by just being there.

I love those two a lot.

This Second Life of Bell is coming to a close soon, this has gone longer than planned but thank you for everyone that has been with me so far! ^///////^ Happy Late 6th Anniversary of Undertale that inspired this story's plot <3

I am having trouble contacting my beta due to Tumblr being stupid with messages. Maybe I can reach them here, please contact me on Discord under username: Animefreak1145 (Code #8517)

*PM me if you wish to be Tagged*

@quizzyisdone @zulema117-blog @efingart @pinkpinkboota @nuclear-boston @lifeisthemoments @jintana-critical @eclectriccanoeseven @hurricanesyd-blog @parkeepingparker @moonchild365-blog @aurora-windu @imperfectophelia @dvesinthewind @holy-crap-i-am-russlle-adler @i-will-give-you-love @adlerboi @preciouslilcreature @saynotohydra @mayaibnlaahad @smokeywhalee @0shuni0-blog @multi-fandom-imagine @littlepotatowizard @direwolfspostsrandomshit @darlingor @collinnmckinley @kayalect @nikkibell1937 @fuzzybonkeggsopera @ppfedd @bro0kebxrter @actuallyilya @stayb1ack @frankwoodsmalewife @tr1ppylady @nocturnalblurbee @salvija @gojocat247 @dallmaistir @animecriminal @weirdoartist21

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meruz · 4 years ago

Text

i was gonna draw tonight but i dropped my tablet pen and the barrel of the pen broke off and flew somewhere underneath (??) my bed (?) and now i cant find it so I’m just gonna answer asks before bed instead. just some art asks and more mentions of infinity train LOL

What program and brushes do you use when making your art?

@ravki hi! part of this is in my FAQ but i’ll say it again anyways LOL: I use photoshop CC and have used photoshop for pretty much....my whole art career. I’ve dabbled in clip and paint tool sai in the past but photoshop is my true wife, we eloped away from her awful father adobe many years ago and are very happy together.

as for brushes... I should prob put this info in my FAQ too lol,... my default brush set is actually free to download here! Tho I will say I also use steve ahn’s storyboarding brush sometimes and lately i’ve been using shiyoon kim’s brushes A TON. Shiyoon’s cost a couple bucks but they’re super worth it imo

How do you choose colors?

This is kind of a difficult one to describe from scratch but hmm.... I’ll put it this way. Generally when I go into coloring or painting something I already have some colors in mind. Like for a certain piece I know I want a bright green, or a magenta, or a dark blue in certain areas. A lot of the time I know a mood I want. So I’ll start with that core color tone and build around it. I’ll use an example from a recent piece

So you can see here that the first color I accessed was that bright cyan. So I start with that bright cyan and then bring in its “friends” in the form of analogous colors (shown below on the far left)

greens greys etc. THEN I know I want the characters to stand out against all the blue so I start laying down warm contrasting colors for them (middle group). the mat under them is orange, skin tones are warm, ryans flannel is red etc. then to get them to work together I work more cool colors into the shadows and slightly warmer (not too warm because its a cool img overall so in this case, greener LOL) colors into highlights.

hope that makes sense? for me choosing colors is a lot about story and composition. If you know what you want to say, the mood you want to create, where you want to go, the path to get there becomes a lot clearer imo.

Have you ever considered making an art book?

I have! But I don’t think I currently have enough...original illustrations for one LOL? Not that an art book has to be all original work but if I were putting fanart in an art book...at that point I’d just make a fanzine. I’m making more original work lately though so maybe this year....? Who knows. For now, I do have a sketchbook up on gumroad. Hoping to do one of those next year too.

Any tips for keeping background drawings from getting super stiff, especially since things like interiors have a lot of straight lines?

This is a really interesting ask. Really great question that I don’t think gets asked enough - forgive me if I get a bit art school here but I drew up some examples.

First I think we have to investigate the assumption that straight lines make things stiff. That seems true on an instinctual level and certainly proves to be true very often But I don’t think its actually the straight lines themselves but the sort of arrangements and compositions they tend to dictate. Take this for instance.

pretty big difference, right? there’s a couple things that make a composition feel stiff and one of the most significant is lines that are perpendicular and parallel to the frame. it feels locked in and solid, like bricks. but the moment you shift these angles even a little the composition instantly becomes more dynamic because our innate senses of weight, gravity, and directionality can sense movement.

But it’s not just diagonals let’s take this one step further

when lines meet and terminate together those tangents can flatten and lock space so the best way to solve this is with overlap and complete intersection, forms continuing past or behind each other feel more layered and less like a flat mosaic... again, even in the simplest line drawings. So how do we apply this to a background?

ok I drew this really fast so its potentially not the best example but I think the idea is there. This space isn’t even particularly deep, it’s basically a room, a doorway, and a hallway behind it, and we’re not seeing that much of any of those things LOL. but when you draw an environmental object like a doorway in a way that lines up with the perpendicular and parallel lines of the canvas you’re automatically flattening it and making it look rigid.

and when you create tangents with objects and characters you flatten the space around them and make it difficult to tell what is actually in front or behind or if they’re on the same plane.

GOD I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE. Anyways. avoid those things and you’ll instantly have less stiff bgs no matter what kind of bg you’re depicting.

I wanna mention however that this isn’t to say a stiff bg with flat space doesn’t have its purposes.

sometimes you want to create parallels and tangents. it can make characters feel closed in, trapped, regimented, part of a routine, etc. it’s also great for making a composition look ornamental (especially combined with symmetry).

directors like wes anderson can even use these compositional elements to make images feel uncanny or harrowing! its very versatile. I think the important thing is to just be aware of when you are making something rigid and when that’s the last thing you want to do. conscious choices.

Can you speak Tagalog?

@lemuelzero101 I can! BUT NOT VERY WELL LOL ;;; both my parents are from Visayas! but they met and had me in the states lol so I’m pretty American born and raised. We go back to visit family on occasion but not regularly. My tagalog is mostly absorbed from listening to relatives at parties lol and my parents speak bisaya at home so I’m marginally better at that. Sorry to any filipinos out there hoping I’d be better educated, I’m like a little baby...

I do love meeting and talking to other filipinos online though, I grew up in an area that was relatively diverse but the asian population was small and the filipino population basically non-existent. I was like one of maybe 2 filipino kids in my highschool of 2000.

Apart from infinity train what shows are you watching now? Have you seen jujitsu kaisen?

Man this is gonna sound so boring but I haven’t watched a lot of tv lately. It’s not really part of my daily routine. Let’s see... I was sort of watching Amphibia, Craig of the Creek, and the new Digimon Adventure 2020 but I keep falling off watching those for one reason or another. Also there’s a lot of episodes, it doesn’t feel like something I can just binge and be done with.

The last thing I binged was Succession. I want that show and Euphoria back so bad, when I’m done forcing all my friends to watch Infinity Train im cancelling my HBO subscription until Succession and Euphoria return so they know exactly what I’m on their list for LOL.

I have not watched jujitsu kaisen but I’ve kept up with some of the sakuga news (I keep up with anime industry news and production info like x5 the amt i keep up with actual anime) for it and their compositing/editing looks dope. I’ve read the manga actually LOL or at least part of the beginning. I wasn’t super keen on the whole finger eating thing. Also to be honest I kinda feel like its the new Bleach and I never particularly cared about Bleach. Characters look nice enough tho. I wholeheartedly support jjk fans.

Thank you! Thank you @keznodzieja! <3

And thank you anons who don’t watch infinity train LOL...it’s always nice to hear when people enjoy my fanart despite not knowing the source material because it lifts a little bit of the “oh god am I being annoying???” fear off my chest. But also I think you should watch infinity train because it’s really good I have no reservations recommending it.

#ask #GOD so much to say everyday #now to respond to e-mails and hit the hay at a responsible time

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clonewarslover55 · 4 years ago

Note

hello do you think you could write soft echo smut please🥺

Playful and fluffy couch "fun" with Echo

Echo X Fem!Reader //SMUT//

Absolutely!! I am soo sorry this has been sitting in my inbox since like November. I loved this request btw and I am soo sorry I didn’t get to it before I took my break.

Notes: I hope this isn’t bad! I am a little rusty lol

I did a Fem!Reader instead of a gender neutral one, I hope that’s okay!

Also! I know you asked for soft smut….but I made it a bit more playful! Still soft though! (if none of these are what you wanted in this request please request this again so I can write you another!)

Warnings: Before the Bad Batch era by a lot, fluff, established relationship, smut, playfulness, Echo is a considerate angel, unprotetced sex!!!BE SAFE!!!

You sat on your couch beside the love of your life, gently teasing his thick curls of hair. Echo had his head on your shoulder, enjoying your soft touches. He was so relaxed, his eyes half lidded as he struggled to stay awake.

A thought popped into your mind. You glanced at his relaxed face one again, a grin pulling at your lips. Shame…..He was adorable when he was this relaxed.

You gently scraped your nails down the back of his neck, a feeling you knew Echo loved. He shivered, his whole body seeming to twitch in excitement. He huffed, sitting up quickly, a glare on his handsome face.

Echo’s scowl got bigger when you began to laugh. He was too cute! Echo was definitely planning revenge already, but you were too busy laughing to notice.

Your mistake.

Echo grabbed your legs which were curled on the couch, and yanked. You screamed in surprise when he dragged you down flat on your back, Echo quickly crawling on top of you to pin you down with his body weight.

You struggled in a playful manner, shouting his name and pathetic pleas of ‘I’m sorry!!’ None of which worked. Echo flopped on you like a loth cat would, all of his weight was on you. He was heavy!! You gasped for air dramatically, swatting at his sides.

“You’re a butt Echo!” He gasped in mock offense, looking at you with wide eyes. “Me?? A butt? Never.” He scoffed, smiling when your glare grew more intense.

“I’ll….” You paused to think about a good way to get him off, “I’ll…...I’ll tickle you!!” Echo laughed, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Go ahead. I’m immune.” You sighed loudly and stopped struggling, giving up.

Ugh, you loved this fool so much.

You both sat there in silence, Echo’s hot breath on that one really sensitive spot on your neck. He was doing it on purpose, the ARC trooper knowing exactly what turned you on.

Echo smirked against your skin when you squirmed a bit, your underwear growing damp and uncomfortable. “What’s the matter honey?” You scoffed at his sweet deep voice. How he said that drove you insane, and the bastard knew it!

“You know what!” You squirmed more, finally hitching one of your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Echo’s eyes widened, his pupils blowing out in lust. You brushed your nose playfully against his, drawing him in for a sweet and deep kiss.

Echo pressed his body firmly against yours, slotting his hips with yours. He stroked a calloused hand along your thigh, grabbing it and moving it over his other hip. Echo loves to be as close to you as possible, he just enjoys your warmth and the intimacy of it all.

He was also very careful as well, moving one of his arms beside your head so he could take some of his weight off of you. Echo was very considerate of your needs.

You nearly purred against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck so you could play with the hair at the base of his neck. A small giggle left your lips when he shivered, Echo pulling away slightly so he could glare.

He made you laugh more just with a look. “I’m sorry!” You spoke through your laughing, Echo rolling his eyes in mock irritation. He sat up and pulled off his shirt, tossing it on your face. You continued with your fit of giggles, tossing the shirt onto the floor.

“You’re lucky I love you….” You smiled at his words, your laughing finally coming to a stop. “Oh I know.” You grinned cheekily, Echo helping you with your shirt and bra. Well it was technically HIS shirt……...

“Always straight to business.” You spoke, trying your hardest to mock his sexy voice. He chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your throat. “The ARC Trooper way.” He purred in your ear, his lips attacking your throat.

You threw your head back, exposing more of your sensitive throat to his incredible lips. You put one of your hands on the back of his neck, teasing the sensitive skin while your other hand ran down his side to the waistband of his sweats.

The sweatpants were dark blue with little white republic logos on them. You had bought him and Fives matching sets a while back. You yanked at his waistband some, Echo getting the hint and helping you slide them down his thin hips.

He awkwardly kicked them off and onto the floor, huffing with effort. He didn’t have on any briefs underneath, which made things quicker for you. Echo was already hard and ready, his cock head shining with pre-cum

Just looking at his cock made more wetness rush between your legs. He quickly distracted you by moving his lips to yours once again though, his cock pressing into your thigh.

His lips moved perfectly against yours, his tongue eagerly slipping between your lips to wrestle with yours. You moaned into the kiss, your eyes closed in bliss. Echo smirked against your lips when he removed your thin pajama shorts.

Both of you were very excited and ready now, so he didn’t do his usual teasing trick with your underwear. He just slowly removed it with his thick fingers instead of his teeth this time.

Once you were both finally naked Echo ran a finger through your drenched folds. He grinned, pulling away from your lips with a smirk on his face. “Don’t look at me like that trooper.” You smirked back, playfully biting his bottom lip.

Echo chuckled, nipping back at your lips as he slowly pushed a finger into you. Echo always checked to make sure you were ready and could take him. You moaned, throwing your head back once again.

He had been on Coruscant on leave for the past two days and wasn’t to return for a few more, so you two had been very….busy…. Whenever he had a long leave like this you two made sure to take your time with one another. Echo was a very fast learner.

You gasped when Echo found one of those spots that made your toes curl. He had a very good memory, and boy did you love it.

Echo quickly removed his finger, bringing it to his kiss-swollen lips to lick it clean. Your walls clenched around nothing at the erotic sight. You whined loudly, glaring daggers into your lover. Echo chuckled deeply, the sound sending waves of pleasure down your spine.

You scoffed, Echo quickly cheering you up with a kiss. You gasped into his mouth when he pushed the head of his cock into your heat, pressing your body up into his. He groaned out your name as he slowly pushed all the way into you.

Echo pressed another soft kiss to your lips as he began to slowly and deeply thrust into you. He moved his head to your neck, burying his face into your skin. He pressed a soft and sweet against your hot skin with every thrust.

“Oh Echo.” You moaned softly, your nails softly gripping his shoulders. You always tried to not scratch him up too much; but when he hit that certain spot only his cock could ever reach you lost a bit of control.

You saw stars, cries of pleasure leaving your lips. Your walls clenched him tightly, Echo moaning loudly at the feeling. He picked up his pace some, both of you getting closer and closer to the edge.

“I love you.” He panted, pressing his damp forehead against yours. You smiled, looking up into his beautiful eyes, “I love you too.” Echo kissed you again, his kiss making you feel even more excitement.

His pace started to become a little messy as you both got closer. Echo reached down between your bodies, finding your clit. His lips stayed on yours as he brought you over the edge, swallowing your cries of pleasure.

You saw spots as you came, your fingers and walls gripping Echo tightly. Echo gasped when he came, his eyes squeezing shut with pleasure. You laid your head back as he came, the feeling of him painting your inner walls causing you to shiver more.

You rode out your orgasm together, Echo weakly thrusting until he had finished. He held you tightly as your body shook with little aftershocks, pressing soft kisses to every little bit of available skin he could reach.

“We should take a bubble bath in a few.” He mumbled into your neck, his body relaxed and fit perfectly against yours. “Mmmmm…...Good idea baby.” You muttered back, the soft cloud of bliss keeping you from opening your eyes.

Taglist: @leias-left-hair-bun @iamassbutkingofhell @catsnkooks @azem-thefourteenth @colorfulloverbatturkey @blueberrybubblesandboba @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @strangebroadwaykinks @jedi-nila-rhyn @fyrepen33 @mistflyer1102 @kamino-mermaid @cherry-cokes-world @cherry-cokes-posts @darmanfi @silverinkandstardust @chewychewyque @majorshiraharu @ravenpuff01 @808tsuika @commanderrivercc-3628 @captainrexstan @girlvader @ct7567329 @just-some-girl-92 @valkyrieofthehighfae @my-awakened-ghost @escapedthesarlacc @katethecrazy @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @lightning-wolffe @dominhoe-squad @qui-gon-jinn-and-tonic

If you’d like to be added to my taglist its on my masterlist!

#clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader #echo x fem!reader #arc trooper echo x fem!reader #arc trooper echo x you

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

Note

Could I get a fluff imagine where Levi Ackerman is dating a tall reader like 5’8/5’9 and Levi gets a little insecure about his height because he heard some people making comments and really thought about it and then the reader comforts him and tell him she gets insecure sometimes too but it’s worth it because she loves that she can hug Levi and he’s just covered in her body and other things that normally a tall male would do in a relationship she just really enjoys that she can do that. Thanks❤️

Hi, you have no idea for how long I've been writing this. I hope I did some justice to my fellow taller friends out there. And I hope everyone reading this can enjoy, thank you for requesting❤

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: fluff, really just fluffity fluff, taller reader, canonverse

Top of The Shelf

"Can you reach that cup for me (y/n)?"

The soft welcoming smile painted on your face that served as the signal of your comply to his demand sent jolts through Levi's chest. His own grumpy expression didn't allow him to show his gratitude the way his words could although he knew you could read through him.

It went like that on normal days. Little acts of affection as in tangling in sheets together, helping him clean the kitchen after a loose Saturday night for the scout regiment, blending and infusing tea leaves to make your own creation; Levi's love language to you was genuine and tender, despite what everyone else chose to see in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

It wasn't unusual for him to be a little distant or silent. The stoic moodiness and the sass that he carried in his presence were reliefs of anxiety and coping mechanisms that no one would have guessed as had they not known him like you did. It wasn't unnatural to not get a response or to see an eye roll or two by him, he was always caught up in his work, always trying to succeed in his role and honor his dead and today shouldn't have been an exception as to how his usual mood was.

Yet for the upteenth time this evening he sighed. And you noticed.

"You know what, no." He snarled "I'll get it on my own."

The little snapping of his voice along with the the clicking of his tongue shouldn't have been bizzare to you, but it was. Thus instantly your eyes fell to his hands. Erratic fingers scratched the marble counter with jolting movements, hoisting a wet rug that soon was tossed to the side, prompting the sound of his annoyed voice to higher levels.

"You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

For mere seconds, his cold, gunmetal gaze fell on you, lips puckered and scrunched in the most bitter way he could master. It wasn't entirely directed to you, that much was obvious, but it still made your gut churn to an extent. Specs of anxiety tinted the insides of your stomach in what felt like dark maroon. With the pucker of your own lips, you were the first to turn your gaze to the side.

"Move just a bit to the left" He said.

You nodded slightly, gaze still so far way and fixed on a corner of the floor, and adjusted your hand to the small of his waist to steady yourself. What should have caused him to sink his head to your shoulder only earned you a loud and sharp click of his tongue. Slowly you moved your eyes towards him, your gaze and heavy chest submitted to the slight asphyxiation in the atmosphere.

You blinked as you eyed him up and down; the flats of his heels were arched in the painful binding leather of the brown military boots, the muscles of his feet pulsating slightly each time he bucked and tip toed again. You were fully aware that he could feel your eyes on him, still he turned to you with a puckered lower lip once his heels came flat to the mahogany tiles with a loud clicking sound.

"I can't reach it."

"Clearly. Jeez Levi. I got it. Please don't snap about minor things."

"I'm not snapping. But if you haven't noticed I'm always ready to snap"

"I know, I know" You shook your head and laughed.

The pouty little gaze on his face didn't ease like you expected, it was accentuated by two ebony furrowed brows and a set of overly shadowed wrinkles. His hands came to cross over his chest, flexing the bulky muscles of his chest as they tightned, twitching slightly as his shirt wrinkled below his hands. Down below, his foot tapped obnoxiously, indicating the slight nervousness of his presence.

You could only eye him, cup in hand and a soft expression on your face. Your eyebrow was cocked high on your forehead in a silent request, your gingered tapping onto the porcelain cup in synch to his foot. Clearly what was in the air was becoming so strong that it felt like you were on the edge of a cliffcliff with no room to escape.

"Care to tell me what's going on?" You whispered and everted your eyes from his frame, searching for the mettalic kettle that you had washed a little while ago.

"Tch"

"Just a click of the tongue Levi?"

"It's nothing"

Levi was quick to dismiss you, his own eyes daring to reach the wooden tiles of the floor, following across the swirly lines of honey colored wood. His brain felt scattered into a million pieces, the cause of his anxiety roamed inside his brain like a wide eyed ogre that feastes of off the rise of insecurities. But what he felt was his own problem? Wasn't it?

He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts once again. If only those cadets hadn't run their nosy mouths into his relationship, if only he hadn't heard that one repetitive comment on that one morning he was drained physically, maybe he wouldn't have ever doubted himself. It wasn't like him to feel like that, Levi knew his place in the world, he knew who he was and he didn't care about anyone else's shitty view on him. What he couldn't tolerate was you being looked down upon because of him.

If he was one to be more open with his feelings he would choose to talk about it. It was a couple-y thing. You shared your insecurities with him and he has shared almost everything he can remember from his life with you. It should have felt easy for him to just spill the beans on how he felt so low compared to you.

But it wasn't.

Instead of running his big mouth, he decided he would help you make tea. Whatever inadequaty he felt wasn't because of you, if he was too short it was his own fault, his own problem. Not yours, not anyone's else's. And therefore it shouldn't have affected him in such way. Nevertheless, he fixed his eyes on you again, eyeying you from head to toe. Maybe you were tall for him. With the way your legs and arms were longer than his. Letely he had found himself comparing the way his feet seemed small next to yours, though still bulky and full due to his training.

"Here" He offered "let me make our tea"

His fingers came to reach for the handle of the kettle, tagging it slightly off your hands. You gave him a soft smile, just enough to accentuate the nod of your head to his direction.

"Whatever you say apple pie." You teased.

Levi slightly eyes you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but scoff slightly in amusement, the soft glimmer in your eyes was warm, softly burning in the hues of the candlelight. The stiff line of happiness formed a little bump on your left cheek, not enough to be called a dimple it no less that a crevice.

Levi let out a other huff of air through his nose. His hand teacher for the handle of the tap, pumping the metallic object with a few swings and twists of his wrist. Water poured out of the end of the tap and into the kettle, the calming sounds of water flowing in the vessel calming you slightly as you thought about how the that was about to be made would be a dear, calming beverage.

Setting the kettle to the side of the counter, Levi placed both his hands on the edge of it and hung his head low. Your eyes softened as you eyed him again; the man looked drained and tired, a rather usual look for him one could say, but in the very moment, he looked like it was tons more than what should have been usually. Your hand reaches out to him again instinctively and as it landed on his shoulder you softly squeezed the spot protectively.

"Pass me the tea leaves" Levi spoke and his eyes we're squeezed shut. "At least you can reach them."

You giggled at him as you opened the cupboard again, grabbing thin air with the palm of your hand, trying to take a hold of the jar you were looking for. Once you took a hold you it your face lit up, and you turned to him again with gleamy eyes. The candlelight glimmered slightly as you pushed the door to the cupboard closed

His fingers worked on the lid of the jar next, twisting the thin cover in circular motions of his wrist. You watched with half lid, adorning eyes as the tips of his fingers reached for a handful of the aromatic, dry leaves in the jar. Levi eyed you momentarily from the corner of his eyes and looked at the task he had set to himself previously. He sighed deeply, letting a mellow higher pitch note of his voice escape him.

"You love me too much don't you?" He questioned, eyebrow cocked to the middle of his forehead, still his gaze was fixed on how his fingers were meddling with tea leaves as they were giving occasional stirs to the blend.

"Mhm" You nodded with a smile.

He slid his hand out of the jar sharply, only to set the leaves into the infuser that was resting to the rim of the porcelain tea pot, giving them a little suppresssing push, to squish then just enough to stay tamed until he poured the water in.

"Off to my quarters." He said.

He handed you the porcelain cups, taking a hold of the kettle and the tea pot in turn. With a soft thud, he set the pace of the footing for you, though he signed with the turn of his head for you to go first. You walked ahead with no objection.

....

Levi sighed again, just after you set the cups on the wooden surface of his desk. Your eyes couldn't help but fall on him with coherence, eyeing him as he threw a few logs into the wilding flames of his fireplace. He pushed them further inside, careful not to cause ashes to spread all over the room, then he turned his gaze to you once again.

"The water should boil in a couple of minutes." He said, and plopped his palm flat onto his desk.

"What do you want to do until then?"

Your face formed in a small outline of a smile as you walked towards the ravenette, your eyes squinted softly the moment you laid them onto him. You wrapped your arms around his form from behind, slowly, racing them over his torso as in his body was something to explore before you clasped your palms together to secure your embrace.

"You're so cute when you're aggravated like that"

"Tch"

With the click of his tongue, Levi rolled his eyes at you, the inside of his cheek quickly sandwiched between his teeth. He looked to the side of your hand, his eyes traveling over the deemly lit outline of your clasped palms. His tongue darted, flat as it was, to rub on his pallette, feeling all the little bumpy lines of tissue as the bitter and unwanted taste of sadness engulfed his misbehaving taste buds.

It was too infuriating to even think about it.

"Oh come on."

In the most cutesy way, you rubbed your chin to the top of his head, then softly pulled him closer so that his back, or rather the top of his shoulders, came to slightly press against you. This earned another grit of Levi's teeth.

"Tch"

"Stop clicking your tongue Leviii" You pushed your lips together as your eyes squinted happily.

You rubbed your chin on him again, then your cheek, scrunching your nose slightly as the pleasant smell of his soap reached your nostrils. Your lips quickly found their way to the top of his hairline, where you placed numerous kisses, the muffled kissing sounds echoing around the room.

"Stop."

"No, you stop being grumpy, just tell me what's going on."

Levi clicked his tongue again and sighed. His chest rose and fell sharply, a strong huff of air escaped his nose as he gulped dryly.

It was now or never.

He didn't have anything to be afraid of, plus, conversing about his problems with his significant other was something everyone had suggested to him. And after thinking about for the whole evening, he felt like he could talk about it with you.

Although, what he wanted to say came way more aggressively than he had planned to. The click of his tongue and the roll of his eyes were groundbreaking proof of that.

"Doesn't this fuckshit bother you?"

"Huh?" You cocked your eyebrow "what fuckshit?"

"I bet you'd rather be in my place right now."

Levi wiggled his index finger underneath your palms, breaking the knot of your hands over his chest, while he span himself sternly around and right before you.

"Be in your place? How?"

"Wouldn't you rather be kissed at the top of your hair? And pushed on a chest?"

Grey eyes blinked in yours with long pauses, thin lips faced you as they were being pushed into a hurt filled pucker, arched eyebrows creasing at the soft spot over his narrow nose bridge. Had you not been thinking about how to even answer to him, you would be giggling at this soft, child like pout all over his face.

"Levi!"

"Don't Levi me just answe-"

You almost jumped on the spot as the kettle went off. The loud whistle filled the room proudly, seeking your utmost attention immediately. Levi's quick feet wasted no time to take him the few steps to the fireplace, his gaze angrily straining away off yours. He was aware he looked like a grumpy imbecile child and he utterly hated it; it wasn't like him to act so hurt over things he had never cared about otherwise.

"Levi do you think I'd rather be you because I'm taller? I thought you didn't really care about such superficial things?"

"I don't!"

Levi crouched down before the fireplace, his hand darting off to the metallic kettle. He hissed profoundly once he felt the intolerable heat lick over his hand.

With a snap he pulled it back, huffing a puff of air as he angrily shaked it vigorously for the heat of the fireplace to quickly spread away. He looked at you, lips pressed into a thin line, orbs blinking at you then the glove that was at the side of the fireplace.

"Then?"

With a soft smile and a chuckle, you passed the glove to him.

"I don't know!"

"Levi," You crouched down right next to him "did you hear those cadets the other day?"

"I did, you think they aren't right? Am I not too small for you?"

You couldn't help it; a teeny giggle escaped your chest. Your hands came to the floor, holding your weight on them as you pushed your weight down through your bum. With a loud thud, you say down the floor right next to Levi, your hand coming to the wider top of his back.

"I love you for who you are." You said and kissed the top of his shoulder.

"I know that."

Levi's heart skipped a beat at your words.

"And I love how I can push you into my chest and kiss the top of your head. And you hold me too, don't let some brats make you feel like you're less for me."

Your heavy breath was tainted by the soft whisper of your voice as you spoke quietly. Your eyes lingered onto levis palms as they worked to pour the hot water in to the teapot, then pushing and stirring the little blend of tea leaves onto the strainer. With a whoosh, you pressed your head to the top of his shoulder, rubbing your cheek slightly over the spot.

"I feel like such a runt." He clicked his tongue "Worrying about someone else's words."

"Oh come on, you have the right to feel that way too you know."

Levis hand came to cup the side of your face his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek slightly. His head came to rest on top of your head, the side of his head abrading with your own. A soft hum of satisfaction coming out of the depths of his chest. You caved into his touch, feeling your heart fall slowly to the depths of your chest, slipping between each and every cavity of your bones.

The soft warmth of the flames engulfed your relaxed forms, urging you to softly melt into each other, despite the slight awkwardness of your current position. Levi's eyes softened at processing your previous statements; your hand was rubbing soft circles on his back, your fingered lingered on every little scar of his despite the presence of his cotton button down shirt.

You loved him.

Who cared about any other insulting thing that had been said for his person.

You really loved him. And he loved you back.

As much as he'd liked to whine about feeling inadequate for a brief moment, his mind stayed fixated on the fact that you loved him for who he was. Whining about something as mundane as his height only felt unnecessary and bratty before the significance of those three small words.

"Come on, serve that tea so we can go lay on your bed and cuddle."

You couldn't see the way his lips curled up slightly at the warm tone of your voice.

"I need those cups first brat." He chuckled, still he didn't make any effort to move at all.

"But I don't want to move from your arms."

"Yeah," He sighed "I don't either."

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @ackermans-freedom-inc @puredivinity @levisbrat25 @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @ladyofpandemonium @lzrers

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi aot #levi attack on titan #snk imagine #snk season 4 #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan imagines

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