#once i smooth it out then i can go tie up the end of the scene | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heich0e · 9 months

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“Didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Your head pops up as the unexpected voice makes itself known, twisting your face towards the sound only to see a figure standing at the end of the alley. He’s silhouetted where he stands—a shape more than a person. You can tell he’s tall, broad, and has a knot of hair tied up loosely at his crown.

Geto Suguru steps into the light where you can see him better, though it makes his sudden appearance no less surprising.

“Did you drink too much?” he asks, treading a few steps closer as he eyes you worriedly. You pull yourself up from where you’d been crouching on the ground.

“No, no. Just getting some air,” you reply with a stiff smile, dipping in a bow and quickly adjusting your pencil skirt once you’re back upright.

He has his tie loosened over his shirt with the top button undone, and his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen. He considers you for a moment, and his attention makes you want to fidget but you fight the urge.

You watch as he pulls packet of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his shirt and offers it out to you. “Do you smoke?”

“No, thank you,” you say with a quick shake of your head, smoothing your hands along the front of your skirt and then moving to step past him back towards the entrance of the restaurant. “I should go.”

He angles his body in your way before you can.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says, peering down at you. His face is partially in shadow because of how he’s standing, angled between you and the mouth of the alleyway that leads back to the busy street, caught in a small dark patch between the streetlights and the light affixed to the grungy brick wall. He tips his face up and the light touches his features once more, catching in his brown eyes as he waits in anticipation of your response.

“I should get back inside.” It’s strangely difficult to meet his gaze, so instead you look past him towards the street as an unwelcome heat surges up your throat to flood your face. A car passes quickly by the alley, and you watch as the headlights come and go in a flash.

“Why?” the man before you asks, placing the cigarette he’d fished out of the pack to his lips. He uses his teeth to keep it there while he fumbles through his pockets for a lighter. “You’re clearly having a terrible time in there.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his in shock.

“No I’m not,” your reply is notably indignant, even though his accusation is valid.

How would he know anyway?

“The smiley, nice-girl bit’s gotta be getting old, isn’t it? Pouring everyones drinks. Cleaning up everyones messes.” He laughs, though it’s only to himself, before clicking his lighter to life and holding it to the tip of his cigarette until it catches. The cherry burns red and bright on an inhale, and smoke slips from his lips as he adds, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’m not your boss.”

“I’m not lying,” you insist, but your performance isn’t particularly convincing.

Truthfully, the very last thing you wanted to do after a ten-hour work day—capping off a fifty-hour work week—was come out drinking with your colleagues. You’ve never really liked these kinds of gatherings, even if the company is the one footing the bill. They always get a bit too rowdy for your liking. Always drag on a bit too long. And you know that you’ll inevitably be the one stuck forcing your plastered boss into a taxi in the wee hours of the morning, while the rest of your equally-sloshed coworkers find their own ways home.

But the department chair, the very same one you’re sure will be singing karaoke with his tie around his forehead in only a few short hours, had been adamant that everyone in marketing attend the gathering since the sales section was joining in too.

Hence the sales employee standing toe-to-toe with you, blocking your path.

You know Geto Suguru, but only indirectly. The sales and marketing departments are separated by a single floor in your company’s office building, and often work on projects together. Geto is a section lead in sales, with a long, illustrious history behind him before he worked his way up to that role. He’s made a lot of money for the company, and a lot of friends along the way—what with his easy charm, silver tongue, and undeniable good looks. His reputation precedes him—in both good ways and bad.

The fact that he’s here talking to you—a fresh-faced, relatively new-to-role nobody in comparison to his lengthy history with the business—is what you have a hard time wrapping your head around.

“Sure, sure.” Geto waves his hand dismissively, ash fluttering off in tiny specks from the end of his lit cigarette. “I’m sure you just love making all those copies, remembering coffee orders, and running that section lead of yours’s errands too. Oh, and don’t forget when he takes credit for your ideas.”

Your stomach drops.

He keeps going.

“This upcoming brand collaboration is exciting,”—he takes a puff of his cigarette, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you—“too bad no one knows it was you who came up with it, huh?”

Your fists clench tightly at your sides, your lips pressing together in a thin line.

Geto blows the last of the smoke in his lungs from the corner of his pursed lips, away from you.

“That’s the first honest expression I’ve seen on your face all night,” he says with a sly smile tugging at his lips.

Your hands are shaking.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask him weakly.

He tilts his head to the side, like your question confounds him.

“I’m not doing anything,” he says, and he sounds like he genuinely means it. “Have I said anything that isn’t true?”

You bite your lip, staring down at your pretty, professional pumps as you stand on the craggy pavement of the alley.

“You’re allowed to be angry, but don’t direct it at me for pointing out the people who keep screwing you over,” Geto says, and the way his voice sounds a bit nearer and the smell of his cigarette gets stronger tells you that he’s dipped down closer to you even though you don’t watch him do it. “No one’s gonna hand anything to you if you don’t fight for it.”

You glance up at him, your expression and your tone equally flat. “And what if I’m not a fighter?”

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” he says, chuckling a bit as he backs away from you.

You watch him as he watches you—contemplates you, like he’s sizing you up. He drops cigarette suddenly to the ground, still only half-burned, and crushes it with the toe of his shoe. You hold your breath as he takes another step towards you.

He leans forward.

“Hit me.”

“Pardon me?” The bewildered question rushes out of you all in one gasping breath, and you take a loping step back in shock.

“Come on, just one,” the man goads you further, rapping against his jaw with the knuckle of his index finger as a smile twists his lips up at the corners.

“You’re drunk,” you spit out incredulously, shaking your head and quickly moving to step past him.

“I’m not.” He sidles smoothly into your path once more before you get the chance to flee, like he’s half-a-step ahead of you at all times.

It’s infuriating.

“Alright, then you’re just insane,” you offer instead.

You knew the sales department had a reputation for being a bit wild, but this is beyond all your expectations. This is nothing like the charming, easy going Geto that you’ve heard all your female colleague gossiping about in the break room.

His smile falls, and he crosses his arms over his chest. You try not to pay too much attention to the way his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m still your senior, y’know,” he says, and his voice is a little bit colder now. More admonishing.

You’re very acutely aware of that fact without him saying it.

You huff out a frustrated little breath through your nose, crossing your own arms over your chest in a mirror of his stance.

“I’m not hitting you.”

Geto’s brow quirks curiously.

“Why not?”

You can’t believe you’re having this conversation.

“Because that’s assault,” you counter his question shortly.

“It’s only assault if I press charges—which I won’t.” You know he’s telling the truth but it doesn’t make it any more convincing. He tilts his head to the side again, and a silky strand of his dark hair slips into his eyes. “Haven’t you ever hit anyone before? It’s cathartic.”

Your lips part in an expression of astonishment. “Of course I haven’t.”

The man in front of you looks mildly surprised at your answer.

“Do I look like someone who goes around fighting people?” you ask him incredulously.

“You look like you’ve got some repressed rage in you,” he says with a smirk, and the expression only worsens when he sees the way you react to it.

He taps his cheek again before tucking both his hands behind his back and leaning in close to you, like a man offering himself up to the executioner’s block. He shuts his eyes.

“C’mon, just a little one.”

“I won’t.”

“You should.”

“I won’t.”

“How come?”

You take his face in your hands suddenly, tilting it up to meet your gaze.

“Geto-san,” you say quietly, your tone bordering on desperate. “I’m not going to hit you, so please stop asking.”

He opens his eyes slowly, his dark lashes fluttering as he blinks up at you. After a moment he smiles, and his eyes curve into narrow crescents as he leans subtly into your touch.

It’s quiet in the alley, but your heartbeat is quick underneath your skin.

“Can you blame a guy for trying?” he asks you coyly.

You’re still cupping his cheeks in your hands.

They’re warm.

“You really are crazy,” you reply softly to his question, though it’s not much of a reply at all.

He hums, turning his face so his nose drags across your wrist. His lips brush against your palm as he speaks once more. “I’ve been called worse.”

You don’t doubt he’s telling the truth.

Slowly, the dark haired man picks himself up to his usual height. He’s closer to you now than he’s ever been—and thanks to the little cat and mouse game that the two of you have been playing, you’re very nearly pressed against the alley wall. You can’t even see the street anymore beyond the expanse of his wide shoulders.

Everywhere you look, you only see him.

The realization sits hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach.

“I know you’re a good girl, but what are we gonna do about all that stuff you’ve got pent up in there?” Geto lifts his hand and presses a featherlight touch to your sternum over your diaphragm, his fingertips trailing delicately against the smooth plane where the arch of your ribs ends. Your breath hitches painfully as you stare up at him, a sticky knot at the back of your throat preventing you from forming any response—not that you can think of anything to say.

Geto smiles down at you, his expression soft.

You see the faintest flash of sharp teeth behind his pink lips.

“Don’t you want me to help you let it out?”

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #f!reader

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essentiallyleaf · 7 months

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day 16. incest. with. choi yujin.

1422 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, scary scary i-word, older sister yujin, oral sex, masturbation, handjob, perineum stimulation, blowjobs, birthday sex, long ass paragraphs and some long ass sentences, bear with me.

notes.

boo! scared you? creepingly, leaf.

It’s not surprising when Yuijn bursts into your room and punches your mattress to wake you up. When she makes you spinach and egg sweet potato toast for breakfast, when she helps you tie your tie and fixes your uniform, then wishes you “Good luck at school!” before kissing you on the cheek and, as soon as you turn around, playfully slapping your butt. You’re nearing the end of your last year of private high school, you’re used to that at this point. The kisses still feel a little weird, but at the same time you get this sense of warmth from them, not only to your blushing cheekbones, but to your slightly racing heart, as well.

It’s not surprising when she walks around the house in a very thin, somewhat transparent white shirt and no bra, or in tight black biker shorts and no panties underneath, if it’s more comfortable for her. Or that you can see not only the outline of her breasts (they’re very nicely shaped and medium-sized, perfect to fit in your hands), but also her protruding nipples and a hint of her light brown areolas, in one case, and the roundness of her toned buttcheeks and the pronounced mold of her outer lips, in the other. It’s just an acknowledgement of something that’s there, and that you're accustomed to seeing. She’s your sister, after all.

It’s not surprising even when she sneakily walks in on you naked in the bathroom, right out of the shower, just to slap your bare ass and rush out, laughing, and you don’t know if she managed to catch a glimpse of your limp dick as you turn around trying to catch her. She’s always been one to play pranks, this is just another one of them. That’s just how it is, between the two of you, she’s playful, and caring, and affectionate, and you’re just here to appreciate it, nothing strange about it.

Nothing strange about you sitting on the couch with Yujin’s head in your lap while watching TV or reading, and playing with her hair in your fingers or softly scratching her scalp as she falls asleep. About you placing your chin on her shoulder and your hands on the naked skin of her hips when she gives you a ride to kendo practice on her motorbike while wearing a crop top, and feeling the need to hold her waist so so tight, like you’re afraid to fall off, but you never are, when you’re with her. About you accidentally hitting her boob when playing pool wrestling, and the fight just turning into a complete mess of grabbing and squirting water onto one another, getting caught in each other’s swimsuit and almost peeling it off, and ending up in a hugging stalemate, arms and legs around each other, where both of you are panting hard and neither wants to let go, and her skin is wet and soft and it smells like chlorine and flowers. You almost feel like she’s rubbing her pelvis on you a little at the end, and you’re not sure if you actually do it, but you think about lightly thrusting back.

It’s such a smooth path, the one that takes the two of you from all of this, to you kissing her in return every morning with a smile and no blush on your face (at least none caused by embarrassment) and slapping her bouncy butt back as revenge; to Yujin wearing no underwear at home and letting you stare at her noticeable features, smiling with excitement and a bit of pride, and once in a while she bends forward on the table towards you, head between her hands and wearing her bunny face, and the deepest cleavage is right there; to both of you becoming a lot more liberal in using the bathroom at the same time, and sometimes one of the two is in, or just out of the shower, naked in front of the other, and the air suddenly becomes hotter. Being naked in front of one another quickly becomes a habit when you start actively trying to seek it, and getting out of the bathroom naked just to wait and eventually get dressed in your respective rooms, and maybe starting to be out of your own room, and around the bathroom door when you hear the other finish their shower, and even delaying that “eventually” to up to hours later, and walking around the house naked in the meantime, well, that would probably qualify as seeking it.

And when it’s the same blood that runs through your veins, there’s no need to explain, to put people, entire relationships in boxes and restrict them like that. You just, get it. You both understand.

Understand that it’s fine for her to call you in her room and start chatting about the new plant she got for her green themed shelf, about the relationship between Barbie and Ken, about her college friends, and how sometimes it’s hard to tell a very close friendship from a crush, and then ask you to eat her out afterwards (she tastes amazing, like sweet apples and lime, and you want to record her lovely gentle moans and use them as your lullaby; nevermind, she does that for you when she tapes herself masturbating and sends you the audio with two green heart emojis while you’re in your Science class). It’s complicated, it would be if you had to explain Yujin and you to someone else, but when it’s the two of you, it’s simple. You see her lay on her back on the couch studying French and start kissing her neck, lower her tank top to reveal her soft tits and knead, lick all around them. She unbuckles your pants and strokes your cock for a while, when you’re close she lets go, puts two fingers on your perineum and starts circling lightly. You cum hard and make a mess on her tank top and breasts, she doesn’t mind, she was going to shower anyway (“You, too?”). There’s nothing more to it. Just shared moments of affection, of intimacy.

For her birthday, Yujin asks you to have sex with her. She knows you can’t say no, she also knows that you don’t want to say no. Her more and more frequent blowjobs are quite convincing, too. It’s a special day, you can tell when she wears her favorite yellow sleeveless frilly dress to go out for lunch (she gets shrimp and grilled peach skewers with jalapeño-bourbon vinaigrette, you get classic boiled crab), when she holds your hand as you walk along the riverside, when she wears her contagious grin the entire time. When you come back home, you don’t have the time to take your shoes off before she kisses you deeply. The two of you get to her room already naked and she almost crushes your head with her thighs as you give her her first orgasm only using your tongue. You don’t need her to help you get hard. When you place yourself between her legs and your dick on her outer lips, it’s an important moment. Not because you’re her brother and she’s your sister, but because what the two of you have is special, and your first time together is a celebration of it. A special day. Her slick makes your entrance easy and you quickly find yourself bottoming out in her tightness. She kisses you for minutes, before you start moving. You keep eye contact the whole time, she closes her eyes from time to time from the feeling of your length hitting her in spots she didn’t know even existed. You guide her thighs around you to feel closer to her, inseparable. She grabs you by the hair as she peaks a second time, her nectar gushing out of her pussy as she releases a sequence of loud moans. You pull out and let her use her hands, lips and tongue to play with you, before cumming on her tongue. Some of your spurts land in her open mouth, some spread around her beautiful face. She gathers every drop with her fingers, then licks them clean, shows you the pool of cum and lets her tongue play around with it before swallowing it whole. The two of you cuddle in her bed naked until the morning after. It was her birthday, it was all about making it special for her. And as you see her eyes closed, peaceful, her chest heaving in slow, deep breaths, you think you did.

footnotes.

bit of a different style, tell me what you think. or nah. whateverly, leaf.

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

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Ghost never really learned how to properly tie a tie.

He never had reason to. Never had a father that would teach him, either. And when it comes to formal dress after joining the military, he’d always fidget and tug and prod at knots until they looked right, whether or not they were done properly.

He’s tried looking up tutorials, sure, but it’s just… overwhelming as to how many ways ties can be knotted. So he never bothers. Just does his best to pretend like he knows even when he’s so, so lost.

Because it doesn’t matter.

At least, not until—years down the line—his and Soap’s wedding.

Ghost figures it’s his time to finally learn, then, because it has to be perfect. He can’t mimic a knot for such an important day, just praying for the best, he has to do his tie up properly.

But he can’t.

He tries, over and over, watching videos and looking at picture-by-picture instructions, but he can’t. Ghost gets frustrated, hands trembling more and more every attempt until eventually he just… gives up. Rips off the tie and resigns himself to slumping into the nearest chair, running fingers desperately through hair he’d taken so long to make look nice.

Soap finds him much too close to the start of the ceremony, quick to rush to his side and ask what’s wrong.

Ghost isn’t sure when the tears had started welling, or when his bottom lip had started to wobble. He lets Soap gently guide his hands away from his head, pressing thumbs lightly into open palms.

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Ghost mutters. His tie is loose around his neck, an irritating reminder of why he’s yet to be ready to meet Soap at the end of the aisle.

Soap smiles softly at him. He looks so handsome, as always—him and his perfectly tied tie.

“I doubt it,” he says, oh-so kindly. “Never is.”

Ghost laughs quietly, the sound shaky, watery. He swallows the lump that threatens to rise in his throat, peering into the comfort of Soap’s eyes to lend him strength as he confesses, “I can’t get my fucking tie right.”

“That’s all?” Ghost nods and Soap sighs, sitting down on his knees, pressing the back of Ghost’s hands to his forehead like an odd sort of worship. “Thank God. Had me worried you were rethinking things.”

"I'd never rethink this, I just—" Ghost takes a shuddering breath. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ghost mourns the loss of Soap's warmth as he lets go of his hands. He lifts a hand to drag through Ghost's hair, surely mussing it in a way that looks better than the tangled mess Ghost had probably left it as. "All you had to do was ask for help."

Ghost's gaze falls to the ground as shame burns his ears. "I just didn't want you to think—"

"I'd never think any less of you for not bein' able to tie a tie, Simon," Soap assures him. "There's a stupid amount of ways to do it 'right', anyway. C'mere."

Ghost leans forward enough for Soap to have a comfortable grip on his tie. He watches Soap's face the entire time, the subtle concentration in his expression, though surely he should be paying attention to how he ties the knot instead.

He doesn't move even as Soap has switched to adjusting his collar and smoothing the artificial wrinkles of his dress shirt.

"Pure braw," Soap murmurs. He sits up to capture Ghost in a kiss, sweet and innocent and comforting.

"You're supposed to save that for after the vows," Ghost says once they break apart.

Soap barks out a laugh. "Prude," he teases.

He stands slowly, then, wincing when his knees crack as he gets up. Soap offers out a hand to Ghost, of which Ghost happily accepts.

Soap grins at Ghost, then, bright and blinding and full of love.

"Let's go get married, then, shall we?"

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #ghoap #writing

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rubysunnday · 8 months

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make a deal with the saints

summary: the water was pulling her down into its depths, into the darkness of death, and nothing Y/N did would let her rise to the surface. Nikolai, however, isn't ready to let her go yet.

a/n: this has been sat in the drafts for months, waiting for me to write it and tada

It was one of the worst storms Nikolai had been caught in. They usually managed to direct a storm around them with their Squallers and Tidemakers, but this time things had turned so fast there was nothing they could do.

If they’d had an army of Squallers and Tidemakers then maybe it would be possible. But they didn’t. The sailors were trying their best to keep the sails up and to tie ropes down. The Squaller’s were trying their best to keep the ship going but it was a losing battle.

Nikolai was gripping the wheel tightly, fighting against it as it tried to turn and spin out of control. His clothes were soaked through – he’d abandoned his coat down below, knowing the weight would only hold him back. Adrenaline was thrumming through his body.

He looked around the ship, eyes searching for a familiar sight. Nikolai felt panic claw at his throat for a moment. Then, he saw her. She was helping Tamar tie ropes down to the deck, ducking when yet another wave crashed over the side of the ship, drenching them all once again.

Y/N Orlova had joined his crew in Os Kervo, wanting to escape from the claustrophobic world of the Little Palace and learn more about her Squaller abilities. She’d been stuck driving the skiffs for months and yearned to see more of the world and to use her powers outside of the Fold.

She’d been with them for six months, now. Nikolai often wondered what he’d done before she’d arrived. She kept him grounded and calm even when things went out of control. He needed her more than he wanted to admit.

“The storm is moving on!” One of the Squallers yelled.

Which meant they’d soon be out the other side of it. Hopefully none the worse for wear.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he let them take over the wheel. He headed down to the main deck, struggling to maintain his balance as the ship tilted to the side.

Y/N seemed to sense his approach. She turned around, hair plastered to her head and smiled at him.

“How can you be smiling in this?” Nikolai yelled, almost falling forward to her.

Y/N shrugged. “I would rather this than the Fold!”

Nikolai couldn’t help but laugh. Despite the rain stinging his skin and the lighting forking above, he felt a spark of joy through him.

It was a spark that only Y/N could bring out. Her mere presence made life better for Nikolai. He laughed more when she was around, and he found himself gravitating towards her presence when they spent evenings below deck playing cards.

Whatever had been growing inside him over the last few months had begun to sprout. His heart was growing bigger and it hurt to know that, one day, it would inevitably have to end.

Y/N placed a hand over his and squeezed. “Are you okay?”

Nikolai blinked. He looked at her, slowly realising that she’d spoken. “Yeah, yeah,” he said quickly. “Just thinking.”

“Watch out!”

A rope had come loose from its cleat. Both Y/N and Nikolai ran forward, stopping the snaking rope before it tangled around someone’s ankle and dragged them into the water. Nikolai dragged it back up to the cleat and wrapped it around in a figure of eight until he was certain it wasn’t going to come lose again.

Nikolai stood and let out a breathy laugh as he glanced over at Y/N. She was panting, bent over with her hands on her knees. She straightened and smoothed her hair back again.

He met her gaze and smiled. It slowly fell as Y/N stared back at him, her eyes widening. Nikolai looked behind him and felt his heart stutter.

The wooden beam that was a part of one of the masts was swinging around toward them. Nikolai was shoved to the ground and, as he landed, he saw the mast hit Y/N and push her over the side of the boat and into the water.

Hitting the water felt like thousands of needles pricking her skin at once. Y/N couldn’t see anything. She didn’t know what was up or what was down. The force of the mast hitting her stomach had winded her. She was already struggling to breathe yet, now, in the depths of the ocean, the air wouldn’t come at all.

Her lungs were burning, her eyes were burning.

Y/N felt the waves toss her about, throwing her side to side, up and down. She felt her lungs tighten; her mind was screaming at her to breathe. There was nothing left. It was as if she was being crushed. The urge to exhale and inhale was overwhelming. Her chest was tight, demanding air be let in.

She obeyed.

The air gushed out, bubbles rising all around her. As soon as it gushed out, the water gushed in. It burnt her throat, her lungs. She was choking on the endless water pouring into her.

Until she wasn’t.

Calm swept over her. Even in the storm waters. Y/N looked up and, through the haze of the water and the blackness creeping in, she felt calm. Even as her body sunk lower, nothing could reach her but the calm.

Her eyes drifted closed, and bubbles escaped her lips and then… nothing.

His feet slipped on the deck as he scrambled to the side of the boat, leaning over, and staring into the water. His heart was pounding. His hands were shaking.

“Nikolai!” Tolya yelled, yanking him back from the side of the boat. He put a hand on the back of his neck and forced him to look at him. “You can’t go in there, not like this.”

Nikolai shoved him. “She’s drowning –“

“And so will you!” Tolya yelled, pushing him back.

Tamar appeared next to them, holding a coil of rope. “Here, tie this around your waist. We’ll haul you back in.”

Nikolai’s hands shook as he tried to tie the knot. Tolya silently took the rope from him and finished the knot, pulling it tight around his waist. Nikolai climbed up the side of the boat until he was standing on the very edge. He didn’t even hesitate before he jumped in.

He surfaced a wave instantly crashed over his head. For a moment, he struggled to fight against the water. Then, it calmed. Nikolai glanced up and saw one of his Tidemaker’s fighting with the waves, trying to calm it enough for him.

Nikolai took a deep breath in and dived below the water, eyes wide open, searching for Y/N. It probably would’ve made more sense to send Tamar or Tolya down – but his heart had taken over and he hadn’t thought.

The water calmed for a moment and in that precious moment, he saw her. Her body drifted in the water, completely at the mercy of the current. Nikolai grabbed her arm and pulled her body towards him. Once she was close enough, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding on to her as tight as he dared.

Nikolai gasped as he surfaced, water dripping into his eyes. He didn’t remember how they got Y/N back onto the boat. One moment he was clutching on to her in the water and the next he was handing her body over to Tolya and falling over the side of the boat into a wet, heaving puddle.

Their healer, Iva, was instantly at Y/N’s side. A healer was invaluable to a certain extent. If their patient stopped breathing, or their heart stopped, their powers became useless. They could men bones and healing wounds – but getting a heart to start again? That was a Heartrender’s job.

“Tamar,” Iva called, searching the crowd for the woman.

Tamar appeared and rushed over, falling to her knees beside Y/N. “What do you need me to do?”

Iva glanced up at Nikolai for a moment. They looked back down at Y/N. “Get her heart going,” they replied.

Tamar put the first two fingers of her right hand over her left and held them above Y/N’s chest, concentration clear on her face. She pushed down, pressing against Y/N’s chest.

Nikolai hadn’t even realised Tolya was trying to calm his heart down until he put a hand on his chest. He looked up at Tolya, the tears running down his face mixing with the saltwater dripping from his hair.

Tolya grasped the back of his neck and lowered his forehead to Nikolai’s. No words needed to be spoken – they both knew what the other was feeling. Nikolai wasn’t even bothering to hide his emotions for Y/N.

Nikolai turned his head toward her. She was still lying on the deck. Her chest was still unmoving.

Deep down, a seed of doubt had begun to bloom. Doubt about whether she’d come back and, if she did, if there’d be irreparable damage. He was trying not to let the seed grow and burst into his heart but as he stared at her body – skin lacking colour, eyes closed, chest still – it was beginning to invade.

Then, Nikolai heard a groan. He turned his head sharply, relief setting in as Y/N coughed, water spilling over her lips. Tamar rolled her onto her side and rubbed her back gently. She glanced up at Nikolai and Tolya, a relieved smile on her face.

Nikolai slumped into Tolya, relief overwhelming him. Through the exhaustion seeping into his bones, Nikolai looked down at Y/N and caught her gaze. They looked at one another, silent. Y/N blinked slowly, and it was all Nikolai needed to know she was okay.

The sleeping quarters below deck were quiet. Most people were asleep whilst some remained awake, taking shifts to watch the ocean and horizon, keeping them on the right path.

Nikolai walked down the steps from the upper deck to down below and poked his head in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the candlelit darkness. He walked forward, his footsteps as quiet as he could make them against the floor.

Tamar looked up from her book as he approached. She gave him a tired smile, marking her place before closing the book.

“How are you?” Nikolai asked softly.

Tamar nodded. “Tired,” she admitted. Carefully, she reached out and threaded her fingers through Nikolai’s. She squeezed. “How are you?”

At the question, Nikolai allowed himself to look over to the bunk where Y/N lay asleep. She was buried under blankets but there was colour on her face again. Even under the mounds of wool and cotton, he could see her chest moving.

“Fine now,” Nikolai whispered, his voice breaking slightly. Tamar ran her thumb along the back of his hand. His breath shuddered as he inhaled. “I thought I’d lost her.”

With one tug, Tamar pulled him down onto the crate next to her. She put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him as close as she could.

“But you didn’t,” she said firmly. “She is still here. She is still alive. As are you, Nik.” Tamar pressed a kiss to his temple. “You need to tell her the truth about your emotions. Now you know, now you have felt the fear – don’t wait.” She smiled at him. “Don’t hide from your feelings, Nikolai. They are what set you apart from anyone else I know.”

Tamar stood up, squeezing his hand once more before letting go. She walked out the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Nikolai took her seat, moving as close to the bunk as he could. Y/N’s hand was just poking out from under the blankets. Nikolai reached forward and took it in his, holding it as if it were the most precious gem he’d ever seen.

Y/N shifted on the bunk, rolling further over onto her side. Slowly, her eyes opened, and she squinted slightly at the light as she looked up at Nikolai.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and quiet.

“Hey.” Nikolai leant forward. He brushed her hair back from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. There was an unusual gentleness to his actions – they’d been this affectionate before but… this time it was different.

“Are you okay?”

Nikolai blinked. He laughed softly. “You drowned and almost died, yet you’re asking me how I am?” He sighed, letting his thumb brush across her cheekbone. “I’m fine, darling. How are you?”

“I’m cold still,” Y/N replied. She snuggled further down into the blankets. “My throat hurts as does my chest but… I’m alive.” She fell quiet for a moment, gazing up at Nikolai. “You look like shit, Lanstov.”

Nikolai burst out laughing. He shook his head as the laughter faded, the smile remaining. “You scared me, Y/N. Truly scared me. I’m so used to having you around that suddenly imagining life without you…” His smile faded slightly.

“I am a good friend,” Y/N said, nodding, her tone semi-sarcastic. “You’ve trained me well. I can imagine how difficult it would be to train a new friend again.” Y/N frowned at the silence that followed. Nikolai lowered his gaze. “Nik?”

“It wasn’t just that,” Nikolai replied. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Since we met, I’ve felt this… pull to you.”

“Nik, you’re sounding like Tolya.”

Nikolai snorted. “Yeah, I’m not great at this.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Okay,” Y/N curled closer to him, “just… splurge. Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense.”

And that was it. Nikolai knew, then, that it was her calmness, her ability to see through the haze of his mind and just know what he wanted to say or do. He could be spiralling out of control and Y/N would be the one thing keeping him on the ground.

That was why he loved her.

“I can’t live my life without you,” Nikolai said abruptly. “You ground me in ways no one else can. The entire world could be spiralling out of control, but you’ll be the calm in the storm.” He chuckled. “I remember when I had a bad night a few months ago. I’d tossed and turned and then given up, going up on to deck to watch the stars. Everything was haunting me – the crown, my people, my family. You found me on deck and just talked at me for an hour, distracting me from my thoughts until I’d calmed down.

“When I pulled you from the water, I was terrified that… that I’d pulled your body out but not your soul. That it was still in the water, sinking further and further down. The world stopped as I watched Tamar and Iva work. I think Tolya was worried I’d collapse on him. But the moment you opened your eyes and looked at me, my world started moving again. And I realised that… I love you in so many ways, I can’t put them all into words.”

If Y/N was taken aback by the abrupt revelation, she didn’t show it. Her face was calm, betraying nothing.

Nikolai laughed softly, shaking his head. “I know I am a prince, Y/N. I know there are rules and laws. I know that one day I will be king. Loving me isn’t easy, I know. Being with me isn’t easy. But… I just…”

Nikolai trailed off, words failing him.

Y/N propped herself up onto her elbow, dislodging the blankets around her. She took both of Nikolai’s hands with hers, running her thumbs along the back of them. Nikolai looked at her. Her gaze was intense. It was warm. It was understanding.

“I knew who I was becoming friends with, Nik,” Y/N said gently. “Prince Nikolai Lanstov – heir to the Ravkan throne. I knew what it would come with and how hard it will be. And I know loving you will be even harder.” Nikolai couldn’t breathe. Y/N squeezed his hands. “Yet I will gladly fight the battles if it means I get to wake up next to you in the morning. I will stand behind you if it means I can hold your hand in the shadows. I will be your consort if it means I can love you for however long we live for.”

Nikolai stared at her. Everything he’d wanted to say, she’d said perfectly. Everything he’d thought, he’d felt – she’d spoken it aloud.

“I know who I fell in love with, Nikolai,” Y/N said, watching him intently. She smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face. “I wanted to say something but… I thought it best if I waited for you. In case it wasn’t reciprocated. In case it wasn’t what you wanted.”

It was hard to confess your love. It was even harder when it was a prince. Nikolai knew this. He knew that whoever he fell in love with, would have to sacrifice everything to be with him. Yet here was Y/N, opening her heart whilst fully understanding the consequences.

“Are you going to kiss me now, princeling?”

Nikolai laughed and leant forward, capturing her lips with his. She kissed him back, pressing into him, her hand wrapping around the back of his neck and holding him. They broke apart, resting their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

“Queen Y/N and King Nikolai does have a ring to it,” Y/N whispered into his ear.

Nikolai pulled back, his brow furrowing even as he smiled. “Why are you first? Surely it should be King Nikolai and Queen Y/N.”

“Because.” She pressed her lips to his again, smiling. “I want it that way.”

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x female reader #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #fic #fanfic #nikolai lantsov imagine

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sunarc · 1 month

Text

Trading Places

A/N: So the ending was actually different to this but i wanted full on subby nanami lol but let me know if yall would like to read the alternative ending where nanami takes charge. Also @kentophilia heres some nanami for you babe

CW: being tied up, degrading, praise, sub nanami, cowgirl, reader really gets into it

Nanami had never been one to just completely give up dominance. Seeing him in a submissive state was like seeing a pig flying in the sky. It never happened, and he was content with it being that way. That is until you suddenly asked him to let you be in charge one night. Nanami’s eyes grew wide as if you’d just asked him to do the impossible.

“You want… to tie me up?” The question came out with a confused tone.

You looked down shyly but maintained a brave tone.

“Well, yeah,” you said. Your hands dragged softly down his chest as your eyes looked up to meet his dark ones. “I just want to try something new,” you smiled innocently. “Let me take the reins for once, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Nanami stared hesitantly. He’d never been tied up before, usually being the one doing the tying. His eyes looked down at your soft pleading ones, and he just couldn't help but fall into your trap.

Your touch was so delicate, leading Nanami to your shared room. You pressed gentle, reassuring kisses on his skin as you tightly tied his wrists together above his head.

“Are you okay?” You held his face gently in your hand.

You knew this was new for him. You wanted to have your fun, but his comfort came first before anything else.

“I’m alright, my love,” a soft smile played on his lips.

Your hands dragged down his body toward the bulge in his underwear. You placed wet kisses and rubbed his clothed bulge while you scanned his body. He was staring down at you with a dark gaze as his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. He was getting desperate, almost needy, for you. He needed you to touch him—something more than a delicate touch blocked by fabric.

“Just-ugh fuck, I need you, love,” he grunted.

You chuckled at his idea of begging. Something about having him at your mercy left you feeling excited. You were in charge. You were the one making him beg now. You pulled his cock free from his restricting underwear. Your eyes grew wide at how achingly hard he was. The tip of his cock was a bright red as pre-cum slowly leaked down the side.

"Aww, you really do need me, don't you?” you smiled.

You licked at the tip of his cock, gathering the precum on your tongue.

“So tasty, even when you're desperate.”

Your hand moved in slow motion, stroking his cock at a pace you knew would drive him crazy. Nanami let out a soft groan as he bucked his hips upward into your hand.

“Don’t be a tease.” His eyes stared down at you with a warning look.

“Don’t forget who’s in charge,” you said with a devilish smirk. You licked a long, slow strip from the base of his cock to the tip, earning a deep moan from him.

You wanted to have a little fun while you could. This was the one time you could do whatever you wanted, and you knew by the time you’d be done, Nanami would make sure it was the last. You wanted to tease him as much as you could. You knew how much Nanami loved touching you, he loved the thought that his hands could have you writhing with pleasure. So why not show him how pretty you look touching yourself? You inched forward so that you were now straddling Nanami’s abs. You leaned forward to press a kiss against his lips.

“How bad do you need me, Ken?” Your voice was silky smooth as you asked.

“Real bad, my love. How about you untie me so I can show you?” He smiled into your kiss.

You hummed as a reply, "Mmm, I don’t think so. How about you beg for my pussy and maybe I’ll let you go?”

You leaned back, giving Nanami a full view of how your pussy was dripping for him. Your finger glided between your folds, circling around your clit. You let out a breathy moan at the sudden surge of pleasure.

“Feels so good, Ken. Look at how wet my pussy gets for you,” you continued rubbing slow, teasing circles. “Imagine if it were your tongue, slurping all my juices, letting it drip down your chin, tasting all of me." You dragged your words.

Your eyes looked down at Nanami's, who was so focused on the way your fingers dripped with your essence, massaging where he so desperately wanted his tongue to be. His tongue swiped against his bottom lips as he stared deeply at the way your fingers dipped in and out of your hole. The noises coming from you were like a symphony of the greatest composition of music Nanami had ever heard.

“Come on, love, untie me, and I promise I can make you feel so much better,” he grunted.

You knew Nanami’s touch would leave you shaking within seconds, but you didn’t want to end the fun too early.

“But I’m having so much fun listening to you beg for me,” you teased.

Nanami threw his head back, letting out a frustrated laugh.

"Darling, if you let me go now, I promise I’ll be somewhat lenient with your punishment,” he gave a faux smile.

You ignored his meaningless threat and continued a steady pace of pumping your fingers in and out of your hole. You let out blatantly loud moans before slipping your fingers free to drag them to your mouth, licking and sucking the juices that dripped from them. You hummed at the taste of yourself, eyes closed, while you exaggerated a sigh of pleasure.

“Oh, I'm sorry." You gave Nanami a doe-eye look. “Did you want a taste?”

Nanami was losing his mind at this point. He had been unknowingly rutting his hips upwards, wordlessly begging you to let him have you.

"Please, Angel, please can I touch you?”

At this point, he had completely given up his rough persona and was left vulnerable to you, pleading for your touch. His eyes squeezed shut as he struggled with the restraints. The tip of his cock was a bright red, practically screaming for you.

“I need you so bad it fucking hurts,” he said, completely losing himself. You smiled at this new Nanami that you had never seen before.

“It’s okay, baby, you can have me,” you spoke softly, finally pleased to hear him beg.

You leveled yourself above his cock and slowly began to sink down onto him. Nanami let out a deep groan at the feeling of your warm hole trapping him in. You lifted yourself up and down, moving at an achingly slow pace.

"Faster,” he grunted.

You frowned at his demand.

“Who’s in charge?” You asked, smiling menacingly at his angry face, covered in a deep blush.

He bit his lip, refusing to answer you still keeping eye contact. You circled your hips, making his eyes roll back as you asked again.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You said in a cocky manner.

You knew you were going to be a goner by the time you untied him, so why not make the most of it?

“Let me hear you say it, and I’ll think about giving you what you want.”

Nanami groaned loudly as you came down harder on his cock, smiling at how you had him blushing and panting for you.

“You’re so pretty when you're needy.”

Nanami bucked his hips upward with a groan.

“You don’t understand what I'm going to do to you when I get free,” he said, pulling on the restraints.

“Oh yeah? I guess I’ll just have to keep you looking pretty and tied up then yeah?” you smirked.

You bounced your hips up and down on him, moaning freely. Nanami’s chest dripped with sweat as he groaned your name, breathing heavily. You leaned down, wrapping your hand around his neck, squeezing softly.

“You like that?” you moaned “You like when I fuck you like this?” you asked

He turned away, closing his eyes as small grunts left him. You're not sure what came over you. Maybe the feeling of being in charge was completely taking over you, but your hand came down on his cheek, slapping him as you continued to ride him, picking up speed. He let out a gasp mixed with a moan as you continued bouncing on his cock. Your body was trembling with pleasure. Nanami wanted to hold on. To keep himself from giving you what you wanted, his submission. He couldn’t hold on any longer. His whimpers filled the room. He wanted to touch you, needed it. His eyes watched as your cunt slid down his length, dripping with your juices. He felt himself craving you more than anything in the world. He needed to have his hands wrapped around your hips, dragging your body along his length.

“Fuck- just please,” he moaned, yearning for you. His hips bucked upward into you, matching your thrust, as his eyes rolled back.

“Please what?” You asked as your hand came down against his cheek again, earning you a low groan as you felt his cock twitch inside of you. Nanami would never admit it out loud, but something about this bratty behavior of yours, slapping him and fucking him as if you were in charge was sending him over the edge. His eyes rolled back in pleasure as he let out a breathy whimper.

"Please, baby, please go faster.”

Your smile grew wide, pleased with his submission.

“Good boy,” you purred, “you like it when I ride you like this, don’t you? You like getting fucked like a nasty little slut.”

Your words were doing something to Nanami that he had never experienced before. His moans were flowing freely. His hips bucked upwards into you, matching your rhythm. You circled your hips down on him. Your nails dragged down his chest, leaving a red streak in their trail.

“Say you're my slut, Kento,no-scream it.” You bounced up and down at a faster and harder pace.

You felt something primal growing inside of you. Listening to the way this strong, beefy man whined under you, begging you to fuck him, leaving you feeling overwhelmed with power.

“Scream to the world how I fucked my submissive boy so good,” you moaned the filthy words.

You had never expected yourself to become so dominant and mean, but the feeling was so good. Nanami was a whimpering mess trying to contain himself, but between the way your hips slammed down onto his and the pain of your nails, he was stuck in a blissful haze. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to gain some of his former self back.

"Aw, come on, don't hide it." Your voice grew lower as you spoke. “I know how much you like being my little bitch now." Your hand came down to slap him yet again, and you were riding on a high of dominance that you never wanted to come down from. Nanami’s eyes burned with anger as he stared up at you. Nanami pulled on the restraints, his anger evident in how the veins appeared on his forearms. He was fuming with the desire to put you back in your place.

“You must really—ughh,” he was cut off by his own moan.

His hands squeezed into fists digging his nails into his palms. He was losing his mind with the feeling of pure lust taking all control. His desire for you was overcome by any need to be in charge. He let out shaky moans that had your eyes turning into stars. You were obsessed with this look. Sweat dripped down his body.his jaw hanging low as his eyes squeezed shut while a string of moans flowed from him.

“Look at me baby” you moaned while your hand held his jaw in place to keep his eyes on you.

This surge of dominance felt good. His orgasm was in your hands. You were in charge of his pleasure. You wanted to hear him beg, to hear him scream your name crying out for a release.

“Please, please please please” he moaned.

A smile crept onto your face as you listened to his pleas. You wanted to fuck him into a whiny mess barely able to comprehend anything but your cunt squeezing around him.

“Please what?” You asked as your hips slammed down onto his cock “You want to cum?”

Nanami nodded his head desperately pleading for a release without words.

“Oh baby, I need more than just that. You know better.” You squeezed his jaw tighter as you slowed your hips to circle his cock. “Use your words like a good slut”

Nanami grunted at this new power dynamic. It was all so new to him but he’d be willing to do anything to make you happy.

“Please can I cum? I need it so bad. I wanna fill your pretty pussy to the brim with my cum. Please baby please” he whimpered breathlessly as he bucked his hips up into you.

He was a wreck, eyes rolling back as he trembled from the intense pleasure. He had been deduced to a cum hungry slut and you were loving every moment of him.

“That's my good boy. Cum with me and make me proud.” you moaned.

His release struck him like a truck. He was trembling eyes rolling back as high-pitched moans he never knew he could make filled the room. The orgasm shared between the two of you felt so intense and overwhelming that you were left feeling weak as the two of you laid skin to skin catching your breaths. You moved to untie him and gently massaged his wrist.

“How do you feel?” You asked with a soft voice.

Nanami hummed and pulled you closer needing your warmth.

“I’ve never experienced something like that” he whispered the words as if shocked by his own response.

“Thankyou” you spoke “For letting me take control”

“I’d do anything to make you happy, Angel”

#nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami headcanon #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jjk nanami #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen

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augustinewrites · 1 year

Text

miya atsumu knows he’s going to be late.

yet he’s got his phone pressed to his ear, tapping his foot as he waits for the person on the other end to pick up. he sighs in relief when sakusa picks up with a grumble.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a date? why are you bothering me?”

“i can’t figure out which flowers to get,” the setter admits, tugging at the knot on his tie. you’re probably going to text him soon, wondering where he is. he really hopes you’re not pouting, hopes you’re not standing at the door with that concerned crease between your brows that he’ll have to smooth away with his thumb.

“i’m sure any bouquet would be fine.”

atsumu, still peering at the shop’s collection of roses, just scoffs at his teammate. “but it has to be perfect. it’s our first date since making things official.”

red roses would be the logical choice, he thinks. simple, timeless, classic, he’d once heard the shop owner describe them as. in other words, they’re romantic as heck.

but atsumu’s bought red roses for every date he’s gone on in the past. this date is special– you’re special. not just any bouquet of red roses will do.

“then get her favourite flower,” sakusa suggests when atsumu tells him this. “you can’t go wrong with that.”

“that’s a good idea,” atsumu hums thoughtfully, staring hard at the blooms.

“you don’t know her favourite flower, do you?”

a pause. atsumu feels his cheeks begin to warm. “well–”

“just say no, miya.”

“fine! i don’t know!” the setter admits, exasperated. but he knows other things, really! he knows who you’re rooting for on this season of the bachelor. he knows how you like your coffee and that he’s your favourite player on msby.

(okay, maybe second favourite. who didn’t love bokuto?)

he can practically hear his teammate rolling his eyes. “bouquets can be made up of more than one flower, you know. even if you choose wrong, i doubt it’ll affect her opinion of you.”

atsumu shifts his focus to the bigger arrangements. sure they’re a little pricier, but you’re worth it. “thanks, omi. the one with the sunflowers seems nice.” he snaps a quick picture and sends it to his teammate.

“sure. and if i were you, i’d be more concerned about other things.” omi continues as atsumu points out a bouquet and pulls out his wallet to pay.

“oh yeah? like what?”

“like the fact that you talk with food in your mouth. you also inhale food like you’re never going to eat again.”

“hey!” he argues, startling the florist. “i grew up with samu— if you didn’t eat fast, you didn’t eat at all!”

omi, of course, ignores him. “you talk a lot, you’re terrible at directions—”

“i am not,” he huffs, taking the bouquet. “as much as i’m lovin’ this pep talk, i’ve gotta go. i’ll call you tomorrow morning to let you know how it goes.”

“please don’t.”

atsumu spends the car ride to your apartment disproving every one of omi’s statements in his head. he only talked with food in his mouth when he was excited! and sometimes he just had to fire a joke off before the topic changed! and so what if he got them lost that one time they were in sendai? he didn’t know the location he’d picked had been for the north entrance, and not the south one.

he pulls up to the curb in front of your building, checking his phone to see one text from you.

>> on your way?

>> i can meet you downstairs

he shoots off a text telling you to stay put because he’s on his way up, a slight skip in his step as he gets out of his car. he’s lucky enough to catch someone leaving, flashing them his pr smile when they hold the door.

he bounces on his heels in the elevator, going over what he’s going to say when you open the door. a simple “hi” just wouldn’t suffice. should his compliment your hair first? or your outfit?

the doors open on the fourth floor, and atsumu’s heart thumps in his chest as he counts down the doors to yours. apartment 407.

he knocks, taking a step back and attempting to smooth the mess of hair on his head. but when the door opens, he finds that he has more pressing issues.

because he comes to the painful realization that omi was right.

“yes?” the old woman asks, looking him up and down. “can i help you, young man?”

atsumu’s stunned, still hoping that you perhaps lived with your grandmother. “i’m sorry, i—”

“oh, how lovely! are these from my grandson?” she asks, taking the bouquet from his grasp. “i love sunflowers. wait here—” the old woman reaches into her apartment, producing a wallet. “i have to tip you.”

“oh, ma’am,” he starts, taking a step back. “i’m not—”

she just hushes him, pressing a few bills into his hand.

well, if she insists.

_____

when atsumu exits the apartment, you’re waiting by his car, amused smirk on your lips.

“take a little detour?”

“just, uh, visiting my grandmother.”

your brows raise in surprise. “i thought she lived in hyogo?”

he really did talk too much. “okay, so i got a little lost. and i got you flowers, but she took them! they were real pretty too, with sunflowers ‘n daisies! i can show ya a picture—”

“atsumu,” you laugh, resting your hands on his shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “it’s fine, really.”

you’re the one smoothing the crease between his brows and you smile up at him, causing a hot blush to creep up past the collar of his shirt.

“now come on, i’m hungry. don’t worry, i’ll pull up the directions to the restaurant on my phone.”

“hey!”

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles

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live4lust01 · 2 months

Text

sex, mouth fucking, head(both recieve), public teasing fingering, sex, backshots in car, names(baby), degradation like once, makeout, begging

triplets bday, you plan a dinner for them to go out but you and Chris just end up touching alot I'm awful at captions. (3.9k word count)

We gon pretend my boy Chris in a suit in the first pic. He giving those "I'm gonna fuck your throat till you choke on this dick" ahh eyes.

Chris sturniolo

I was waiting in the triplets house, sitting alone and uncomfortable in their living room. Uncomfortable due to my attempt to not ruin my dress. It's Chris, Nick and Matt's birthday today and I've planned a surprise dinner for them and their close friends. I'd also planned a major after party that was currently brewing at Larrays. I'd got a text five minutes prior that decorations were almost done and people would start showing up in an hour.

The table i'd reserved was on the roof of a well reviewed, formal restaurant so we all had dressed in suits, ties and fancy dresses. Partially because we just wanted a reason to dress up. I was in a black tight dress that looped around my neck and laced up the side of my thighs, sitting just bellow my ass. My hands were covered in black gloves and my neck, arms, ears and gloved hands were dripping in gold jewelry that blinged white gems and pearls. My hair thick and wavy.

"Chris are you done yet? Were gonna get late" i shout hoping for a response this time, being ignored the past three times I asked.

"can you help me with the tie, I don't know how to do this thing." Chris whined, walking into the room I was in. He stops directly Infront me, towering over me as his head hangs to make our eyes meet.

I look up from my phone and see Chris in the birthday suit I bought for him. I just gawked, mouth open for a few seconds having never seen him and outfit like this. It might just be my new turn on. He stands their, so innocently holding out the tie to me but my thoughts have took me to a world that's anything but innocent.

"Close that mouth baby, and it's rude to stare" he smirks down seeing me explicitly check him out. He hasn't even done anything and I'm soaked through just looking at him.

"you look so handsome Chris" I smile standing up and taking the tie from him. He stands with an inch between our bodies, drinking in my features. I put the tie around his neck but seconds later Chris' arm is around my waist and he's pulling me in and I'm stumbling into his arms with my hands on his chest as support to keep me upright.

"you look so gorgeous tonight princess. I don't think I could take my eyes off you" his words a shared whisper only we hear in the universe hear. A whisper that turns me to a slut. "Do we have time?" My eyes run all over his face and hair.

"I've always got time for you baby" I say backing up towards the wall, yanking the tie so he's pulled into me. Our bodies collided and our lips become a kissing sloppy mess as they swallow each other. Chris' yearning hands roam my body. Up and down my sides then back up to my shoulders and neck and face. My heartbeat beating faster than the speed of light at the urgency of everything happening.

My hands are now stuck in his hair, ruffing them up then sliding down his faces mushing his lips against mime while our bodies grind of each other. I pull the tie downwards again keeping Chris close. We share the same breath, inhaling each other as my back is slammed into the wall. Chris pushes himself onto me, his throbbing hard dick could be felt through the smooth material of his suit pants. Everything is so frantic and needy. I feel wet between my legs as Chris grinds himself onto me, one of my legs raised letting him in between further.

He lets go off me as I run my hands down his chest, sliding out his grasp to get on my knees, leaving the tie draped over his shoulders. He looks down at me smirking, hair all messy from my pulling. I take off my gloves and place them on the table next to my phone. His bulge in my eyeliner, I begin zipping open his zipper and pulling down his pants and boxers just as frantically as our kiss was. His dick springs out into my bare hands.

Chris rests his hand on my head and lovingly strokes it as he watches me work. I spot on his pink tip and use my hands to stroke the spit over his dick all while giving him puppy dog eyes knowing how it turns him on.

"fuck baby, the sight of you is enough to make me come all over that pretty face. Do something please" he gently moans out, pushing himself in my hands. I wrap my lips around his tip and circle my tongue around it. I grab his hips to keep him steady as I take his full length down my throat, lips touching the base, earning a groan from Chris. His eyes closed, head throws back,sharp jawline,messed strands of hair falling to his eyes. Seeing him feel so good alone made me feel like I was drowning in a pool of my own wetness. My warm breath and saliva hugged his dick. I started bobbing my head up and down slowly, sucking and licking and curing hit tip with my tongue occasionally.

"Faster baby, please" his desperate whines ring out and I do as he says. I move my head faster, now both my hands in rhythm with my mouth movements. Chris pushes himself a little more into my mouth everytime my head moves closest to him,hitting the same spot at the back of my throat causing tears to form in my eyes.

My phone rings. I take my mouth of his cock for a second before telling him to answer then moving my head back and forth again, sucking hard and fast.

"where are you guys? You said you'll be here for seven it's five past?" It was Matt. My hands run over Chris' clothes thighs, up to his balls as I start massaging and playing with them. Rubbing my thumbs in circles around them as the rest of my hands hold them up.

"y-yeah Matt, we'll be there soon. I'm just getting changed." He mutes the phone to swear as he grips a fistful of my hair in his hand. He tilts his head sideways as he looks down at me, admiration and unstable composure clear on his face. His knee buckles a little as he bends down, knowing he's about to come.

"You're not even changed yet?! Chris you always do th-" Matt's voice is cut off mid sentence.

"Yeah don't worry we'll be there in te-en" Chris stutters. I see his stomach tighten and I stop instantly. I want to hear him when he comes in my mouth. He hangs up the phone immediately after his sentence.

"Did I tell you to stop? Open that pretty little mouth of yours." He says as he cups my face with both hands, narrowing his eyes the littlest bit. I do as he says, sticking my tongue out. Chris places his tip onto my tongue and I close my lips over it again. Without warning Chris fucks rough thrusts into my mouth, using me for his pleasure as I gag and struggle to breathe.

"Yeah baby, just like that." He groans, keeping eye contact with me, smiling. His hands are back to the back of my head as he pushes my head back and forth in sync with his thrusts. His pace quickens, fucking my mouth relentlessly. I'm a whore for his wild rough side, just knowing he's using me to get himself off makes me so horny I can't comprehend any more thoughts throughout this.

He pushes harshly into me, making my back hit the wall. Chris rams his thick dick down my throat. He bends backwards slightly, moaning small sounds everytime his hips snapped into my mouth. I'm left hopelessly holding onto his hips to ease the pressure as my face is being used as a fuck toy. I'm practically buried into his cock and I can't move anywhere.

"Swallow for me baby." He breathes, keeping my face pressed against his stomach. I can't breathe at all being crammed in-between the space of the wall and Chris pelvis. He finishes down my throat then lets me go as I take deep breathes gasping for air. I run my thumb across the side of my mouth picking up a stray drop of come and suck my finger clean as my chest rises up and down. Chris shamelessly stares at the mess he's made of me with a cocky grin. "Shit ma, you're good"

He offers his hand to help me up. Chris tucks his dick back down his boxers and zips himself up.

"You okay? Was it too much?" He asks once he's done, pulling me in and kissing my forehead. I'm fine but my aching wet throbbing clit isn't. I need to be ate out bad but we're already late and Matt gets angry.

"You know I like your rough hands, here let me help." I reply to his question with a soft voice, grabbing the tie draped over his shoulders and tying it for him. I look into his gorgeous blue eyes and the way they look like tiny blue orchids blooming so bright.

"I could never ask for a better birthday gift than you" Chris smiles "We're fifteen minutes late we gotta go" he gets his suit jacket on. I fix my hair and makeup in the mirror quickly, slip into black heels and grab the keys to my car.

"nuh uh, I wanna drive" Chris says running out after me, locking the door.

"Chris you crash my fucking Porsche and I'm going to chop your dick off and let it marinate in a jar of pickle juice and use it as decoration for my room."

"So you can look at it and think of me 24/7. You're such a sweet girlfriend nothing gets as romantic as that" Sarcasm. Chris catches the keys with one hand as I throw them over the car, both of us getting in.

"Drive." My voice stern as I strap myself onto the red leather seats.

"Yes ma'am" Chris says eyebrows raised and a slight chuckle in his voice as he starts the car and begins driving. I was very excited for dinner but now I can't wait until it's over. I just want Chris inside me again.

I thought a forgotten thought. Nate was also waiting at the reserved restaurant. I didn't tell anyone that I asked Nate to fly from Boston to LA secretly because I know everyone will be thrilled seeing him as a surprise. Especially the three boys. Nate's birthday isn't too far from theirs so this is an excuse for them to celebrate together and continue tradition.

Twenty minutes later

"Why'd you have to book a table on the roof?" Chris pants walking up the stairs behind me.

"We wouldn't be doing all this if you would just man up and stop being scared of lifts." I say feeling my legs burn myself.

"Me and Matt got trapped in one when we were younger. It's called unhealed trauma, don't pick on me for it" He says as I roll my eyes.

"Then quite complaining birthday boy"

"Who's birthday is it? I'll complain as much as Id like to" he says with a fake snobbish tone. We finally reach the top of the stairs. Feeling like I've completed a hike I turn to Chris just before we go through the door to the open roof. "Wait" I say fixing his hair to sit better and smoothing out his tie and jacket. "Need to make my boyfriend looks his best on his special day. There you look flawless" i say kissing his cheek and grabbing his hand to walk.

"This is why I date you, you got you're priorities straight" he chuckles letting go of my hand and pulling me into his side by my waist instead. We walk through.

"Chris you absolute mo-" Matt starts but is cut off.

"Finally! What took you guys so long" Nick says loudly acknowledging us, knowing Matt was about to go for a rant.

"You really wanna know what they two were up to?" Nate laughs as I punch him in the arm and tell him to shut up. The fact his guess was right too.

"Yeah what the hell were you doing taking this amount of time?" Matt walks over angrily. Followed over by Ramona and Alahna.

"Calm down Matthew, it happens it's okay" Ramona rubs his shoulder. I hug Alahna a greeting.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Chris' face lights up with pure joy. That's exactly the reaction I wanted to see. He hugs him.

"Here for your wedding obviously. You're girl invited me, can't believe you got one. Finally over you're fear commitment issues huh?" Nate hugs him back tightly.

"Bro shut up. You asked him to come?" Chris talks to me now. I nod my head.

"Mhm, I knew you guys always celebrate your birthday together, I didn't want you to break that tradition since you are in La now and I know how much he means to you guys."

"You're the fucking best, this is why I love you so much. Seriously. Thankyou for literally everything you've done for me and my brothers today this is unreal and definitely unnecessary." He lets everyone hear his praise to me. I smile smugly.

Matt leads us towards our table and I hear Chris whisper something in my ear for only me to hear. "You're getting fucked good tonight". He pulls back to flash me one of those grins that make me weak in the knees. He walks with his arm around my shoulder. I'm in pure heat and I need some sort of relief.

I booked a VIP booth, which was unnecessarily expensive. However its next to the balcony that overlooks the lively city hustling with busy people walking into entertainment clubs or shops. There's a potential aroma of the grill cooking away and we're sitting in a busy but comfortable and chatty atmosphere. There's live jazz music playing in the background on a small stage with people dancing in the space Infront. People talk and eat and laugh and drink which completes the happy vibes of this place.

Chris lets me have the balcony seat so I can looks at everything going on. He knows I love pretty views. There were a generous amount of other tall buildings surrounding us too. It was a dark breezy night. Slightly chill but bearable. It was also a full moon which was the only source of light other than the dim lamps listen in the middle of each table. I looked over at Chris who's seated next to me. Nate next to him, Alahna next to him. Nick across from me,his partner next to him, Matt and Ramona next to them.

Chris looks unreal. The way the moonlight and dim lanterns cast dancing shadows across his face,his pink full lips and sharp features. His eyes, the way the light blue pops more in the moonlight. I look at his laugh and I feel like I'm falling in love all over again.

I listen to the conversation Nate makes with everyone. Soon enough a waitress takes our orders. Chris leans back and rests his hand on my exposed thigh, rubbing slowly. My breath hitches as his hand gets higher under the table. He keeps it rested there, squeezing my not doing anymore.

Our dinner goes well, the food arriving and definitely living up to it's famous reviews. We ordered deserts and conversation flowed again as our wait began.

"seriously though, Thankyou for everything again baby, you didn't have to do all this but we appreciate it" Chris says so the whole table hears that everything was organised because of me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses my forehead.

"Yeah man, youre real for this, we appreciate it thankyou" Matt says.

"You're my bestfriend I already loved you but the fact you go out your way to do all this is insane. Thankyou" Nick also talks and everyone else at the table thanks me for inviting them and making it happen.

"funny you say this is too much. I booked us all a holiday to Brazil for next week, you better pack your bags" I say as everyone's jaws drop.

"YOU BOOKED US A HOLIDAY OUT THE STATE FOR NEXT WEEK AND DIDNT THINK TO TELL ANYONE IN ADVANCE?!" Nicks eyes widen in disbelief.

"..... Surprise?" I shrug my shoulders. Everyone talks over each other. "Shut up" "no way". All of a sudden question are being launched at me. Chris finds this the perfect opportunity to slide his hand back down my body and place it on my thigh again. He squeezes hard as I try not to make a sound. I feel his fingers slip under my dress and hook my thong to the side. He runs his fingertip across my folds, circling around my entrance. I mean back, knowing how cocky Chris is gonna get knowing I'm already dripping wet.

"Am I coming too?" Alahna perks up in her seat.

"Of course you are, I've booked it for everyone here, I wouldn't ever leave anyone out" I smile. Chris index finger rubs on my clit. I squeeze my legs tight, wanting to feel the sensation of his rough hands touch everywhere but not be confronted. He takes the same hand to open my thigh then snake his hand down my dress again except this time plunging it straight inside me.

"How long for?" Nick inquires.

"two weeks" Chris squirms his fingers inside letting my heat build up again.

"TWO WEEKS?" Matt says in his gentle scream.

"Mhm." They all remain oblivious to the pure heavenly sensations I feel whilst talking to them with a poker face. Chris wet fingers are back on my clit, rubbing circles up and down and left and right. I subtly rock my hips with his hand, trying to feel more. His fingers are slipping and squirming inside me again as I arch my back, playing it off as a back scratch. I feel deep butterflies in my stomach. Everyone's still oblivious. I just want to moan out his name. Archig just makes his fingers dig deeper. My pussy pulsates around his hand as my clit rubs of the palm of his hand. I fight the urge to start grinding on his hand right there, his fingers slick moves driving me crazy but it isn't enough.

Our deserts arrive. Chris removes his hand gently wiping the wetness off onto a tissue in his lap, staring at his hands. I also stare at his hands, wishing I could suck my own wetness off him. I'm partially relieved, partially left feeling lika a desperate whore for his fingers to spread me apart and make me come right here right now. I need to feel him so bad.

I take my ice-cream ice-cream and watch as Chris eats his, licking the spoon clean after each bite. The way his tongue spreads into the dip of the spoon to clean it off. I look away over the balcony, lust spreading over me at the thought of what else he can do with his tongue.

The city could be heard singing joyful songs from different streets and cars could be scurrying down roads like beetles. The lights beamed skywards from some buildings as they faded off into the pure dark abyss of the sky. Buildings in all shapes and sizes were spurting up from the ground around us.

Half an hour later, the desert plates were empty and the bill was paid. Everyone already knew of the party and had brought clothes to change into. We agreed we get changed either in the bathroom here or at his house. Everyone was going to go in the same ride they arrived at the restaurant with. Everyone said temporary goodbyes and headed to part ways.

It was just me and Chris left now. He picked me up bridal style as I squealed, walking down the stairs with me in his arms. He took long quick strides across the parking lot towards our car that was parked under the shade of a tree. I watched his serious expression, my arms clinging around his neck to stop me from falling. I inhaled the sweet aroma of his perfume, wanting it to intoxicate every part of me.

Without a word and with a swift movement, Chris opens the back door to my car and gently lays me down onto the backseat not taking his eyes off me. He climbs on top of me and closes the door gently with his foot knowing how protective of my car I am.

His lips latch on to mine whilst undoing his tie in the almost complete darkness of my porsche. There's little to no light and we can only make out the outline of each others bodies. The smell and the feeling of Chris makes me open my legs wider letting him kneel in-between them. I feel a heart beat bouncing inside my pussy having his hands and lips all over me. Our breathes and wants desperate, Chris takes his lips off mine only to undo the top two buttons off his shirt before cupping my face in his large hands and kissing me again. His tongue slides into my mouth licking mine as our mouths inhale each other. He sloppily moves to my jaw as his knee moves between my legs, pressing against my clit. I arch against it, letting out a breathy moan, fueling the sensation

"Chris.." I get out before he puts his finger on my mouth to silence me. His lips move to my neck and down to my chest where he runs his hands over my clothes nipples. He tugs down my dress taking my tits out to grope and suck them. He leaves a hickey on my left breast before kissing down my body.

"Hips up baby" he breathes. "I'm so desperate for you" he moans as I do what he says. Lifting my hips slightly giving him access to pull my dress up my stomach. He hooks a finger around my pants and pulls them down and throws them to the front seat.

I now lay bottom half bare and exposed Infront of his eyes. Pressing his hands into my thighs he snaps me legs open. Through the dark car, I see a faint version of his eyes look up at mine. The deathly grip on my thighs has me painfully soaked. He leisurely lowers his head but pause for a minute.

His hot breathe hits off my clit which makes me arch my back pushing my pussy forward for him to taste. The sensation of his breath on my clit, the anticipation of his open mouth centimetres from the place that needs him most. I'm almost, I really need him but I know what he wants.

"Chris please. I've been longing for you all night I need you to touch me please. I can't wait any longer. Please Chris, please touch me." I moan out desperately trying to wiggle my hips closer to him but proving impossible from the added pressure Chris has on my thighs to keep me pinned down.

"Needy whore" Chris smirks before flattening his tongue against my clit and licking up. I let out a moan of relief after longing for this all evening.

"mhhh, Chris fuck, more please" I beg as I feel his tongue circle around my clit and dance over my folds. He removes a hand from my thigh just to plunge two of his lengthy fingers into my hole making me string out satisfied moans. He keeps his eyes on mine. He looks, wild, the unbuttoned shirt, collar bone slightly exposed, his hair disorderly. The eye contact he doesn't let go off. This sight alone pushes my orgasm. He works with his mouth sucking and spitting until I'm arching and his fingers are slipping and sliding and speeding and I'm screaming his name and it's all so much so quick and my stomach tightens and i grip onto the seat heads and he stops.

"Baby, please dont stop" but he's unzipping his pants again and throwing them on the floor of the seat. His hands find my waist flipping me onto my stomach faster than i can comprehend.

"i can't take this longer" he says to himself. My clit left again, swollen, wanting, throbbing and deprived of touch once again.

"baby you know how it goes, face down ass up" he says bending down to my right ear to kiss the top of it, hands still placed on hips. He assists me in pushing myself up. He pulls down his boxers and makes me feel his thick cock, snapping his hips deep without letting me get used to his size.

"oooh, baby" I cry out arching my ass, pushing against him as his hands on my waist move me in time with his body. A loud slapping filling the air.His fingers on my clit again.

"Back it up on me" Chris sighs out as I feel the heat between my legs get hotter. I listen. He stops moving and I start shaking my ass on him,my arms straight gripping the door handle and my face lay sideways on the red leather seats.

"Yeah just like that" Chris moans dropping his hands arms by his side watching my ass shake and bounce off his pelvis. I feel the top of his dick inside me punching my g spot with every move i made, this making my legs loose strength. Chris slapped my ass and spread his harsh hands across my cheeks before thrusting into me again moving my ass with his hands. His head leans back to groan then he looks down at the mess he's making off me.

I knew he was coming when he bent over me, stilling inside me as far as he could go. Hands still positioned on my ass. I arched and moved foreward,screaming as Chris kept pushing into me.

"Chris I can't" I squeeze myself tighter causing Chris eyes to squeeze shut and let out a crude moan before keeping his thrusts going after fucking out his high. He touches my clit, rubbing. Seconds later im moving back into him,making the same face and sounds letting myself go all over his girthy dick. Chris slaps my ass one more time and let's go.

He pulls out and smirks flipping me back over again in his arms as he lies on my chest for a minute in silence. After hours of needing I finally feel satisfied. We both catch our breathes. Chris then kisses my neck, his after sex glow flushing his cheeks pink making him look adorable in the distant light of the moon.

"baby?" He says softly breaking the silence. He looks up at me. I look down at him.

"hm?"

"i don't think I wanna go to the party. Can we just go home and watch something together?" He asks. A lot of effort went to this party but if that's what he wants then what's he gets.

"that's sounds perfect." I say smiling. He pecks my lips before we get up and get dressed. Chris drives us home.

Ik it lacks plot It was mainly written for the sex lmao 🙏

#chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #cars #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #smut #writing #dinner

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muwapsturniolo · 4 months

Text

✯Ma Belle Evangeline✯

summary: Black!ballet reader invites the triplets to her recital.

warnings: none besides a couple of pictures of a white girl but I promised I tried to find a picture of a black girl but i couldn't. don't jump me plz.

INSPIRED BY THIS REQUEST! I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!

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"Do you think she will like the flowers?" Chris asks swallowing thickly. Nick and Matt roll their eyes for what feels like the thousandth time today. All day Chris has been freaking out.

Why?

Because of Y/N.

The little ballerina made him so nervous and he couldn't figure out why. Every time he was around her he felt this impending sense of doom, but he craved it. In some odd sadistic way, he loved the panic it brought him, how it would make his stomach churn and hard to breathe.

"Chris if you freak out one more time, I'm going to strangle you." Nick snaps as they take their seats. Chris huffs to himself and starts fiddling with his tie. A guy dressed like a server walks around holding out programs. Chris takes one and shows his brothers, "Oh my god they are doing 'Princess and The Frog'! I love that movie!" Nick gasps.

"Look, Y/N is the Prima...what the hell is that?" Chris takes out his phone and looks it up. " it's basically the lead. It says it's usually the best dancer." The boys look at the pamphlet impressed. They knew Y/N was a ballerina, but they didn't know she was that good to be the Prima. Granted they've only known her for two months, but she never bragged about being good.

Soon the lights dim and the boys look towards the stage.

Loud music fills the theatre and that's when they realize there is a live orchestra.

"In the south land, there's a city, way down on the river"

Dancers in different costumes begin to prance around the stage. Of the three boys, Nick is the most entertained. Chris and Matt find it intriguing, but they don't really understand what's going on.

Eventually, the first song ends and the next song starts.

A girl prances out on stage dressed in a brown leotard and tutu. the song picks up and Chris finds himself smiling wide when Y/N joins the girl on stage.

"momma, I don't have time for dancing... that's just gonna have to wait awhile."

Y/N dances elegantly around the stage to the music. her movement fluid and smooth.

The boys watch, happy to see their friend on stage in her element. She's in a yellow leotard and tutu, her hair in a low bun.

Male dancers join the two girls on stage and begin to dance with them, lifting them in the air and doing all types of tricks.

"I'm almost there!"

The spotlight shines on Y/N as she twirls in endless circles before she stops at the exact same time as the music, her form perfect.

The crowd begins to clap and the girl smiles widely as she prances off the stage with the other dancers. "Oh my god Y/N being Tiana is perfect!" Nick excitedly claims as he claps.

Chris couldn't agree more.

The crowd stops clapping and waits for the next part to start.

"Don't you disrespect me, little man!"

Three males suddenly appear on stage. One dressed like a maid, the other a prince, and the last like the Shadowman. Nick bounces in his seat, singing along to the song.

The males move around the stage, their movements enchanting yet exhilarating, matching the vibes of the Shadowman's song perfectly.

"Shake my hand, come on boys won't you shake a poor sinner's hand?"

The drums from the orchestra send vibrations through the audience's bodies. Dancers dressed in black crawl onto the stage, circling the maid and the prince. Following the lyrics, they begin to grab at the prince who looks scared and is trying to get away. They yank at his clothes, pulling him around the stage.

"You can blame my friends on the other side!" the dancers start yanking the prince off stage and the maid chases after them.

The "Shadowman" spins in endless circles before taking a bow.

"Hush!" The lights turn off and you can see the curtain drop. Once again, the crowd applauds.

The production of the performance has been amazing so far.

The costumes, the set design, everything.

The lights turn on, but stay dim as the curtain raises.

"If I were a human being," another male dancer prances onto the stage, dressed in a dark green outfit. Unlike the other dancers, his movements are a bit wonky, signifying the gator named Lewis.

The prince from before joins him, this time in a green suit.

Chris blocks them out until he sees Y/N join them. She's in a green leotard, signifying Tiana's frog form.

He thought the yellow leotard was pretty, but the green just suited her even more.

The trio dances around the stage, all of them dancing in their own styles. It was interesting to see how their dance styles complemented the song.

"When I'm human!"

They all pose and allow the applause to happen before another male comes on stage. His suit a stark difference from the others. Brown with hints of orange and glowing.

" Alright lew lew, let's get to it, darling!"

A country-esque song starts playing, and the original three dancers frown in confusion. More dancers in glowing costumes skip onto stage as the song continues. Y/N and the male dancers join them, mock confusion still on their faces as they jump around on stage.

They are led off stage by one of the dancers as the song ends.

"This is so good, oh my god!" Nick whispers in amazement.

before Matt or Chris can respond,

"look how she light up the sky, Ma Belle Evangline."

Chris feels that same impending doom as Y/N comes onto the stage. Her curls are now down and flowing freely down her back, her skin glowing as the spotlight focuses on her. The slow song continues as she elegantly dances across the stage.

Her eyes are closed as she blissfully moves.

She looks ethereal.

As she dances, it all begins to make sense to Chris.

"I love you, Evangeline."

He has a crush on her.

Chris tunes out the rest of the recital until the end.

It seems like it's the ending dance between the prince and Y/N.

"For the way you changed my plans."

Her dress from before is replaced by an off-white and moss-green one. Her hair up in a high bun as a crown adorns her head, her pointe shoes being a sage green.

Chris feels like the air has been punched out of him as he sees her.

Y/N and the prince dance closely, their bodies touching intimately. The dance is full of love, it brings tears to Nick and Matt's eyes, as well as a few other audience members.

It's like Chris is in a trance as he watches her dance.

"You're the best thing I ever knew I needed," the dancer lifts Y/N up above his head and twirls around.

Chris wishes it was him.

"Now it's so clear, I need you here always"

The two stop dancing and hold each other close, foreheads touching as the music slowly comes to a halt.

Everyone stands up and begins to applaud.

A standing ovation.

Chris whistles and claps the hardest, proud of seeing Y/N dominate the stage.

After final bows and such, the triplets walk behind the stage and wait for Y/N.

"Are you guys Nick, Matt, and Chris? Y/N wanted me to grab you and bring you to her." the boys nod and follow the male in tights behind the doors.

They arrive and see Y/N excitedly talking to another girl. She sees the boys and gasps before hugging them.

"Did you guys enjoy the show?"

She was so excited to see what they thought. She was also a bit nervous since they hadn't seen her dance until now.

"Girl, you were amazing! unbelievable!"

"Yeah, you were great. Everyone was!"

"you looked gorgeous on the stage." Y/N can't help but smile widely at them, her heart beating fast due to Chris's comment.

"I umm... I got you these," he says handing her the bouquet of tulips. Y/N stares at them in awe. "Chris.... they're beautiful! you didn't have to get me flowers." she takes the bouquet with soft eyes. Chris smiles at the look on her face, "Yeah but you deserve them. You were amazing on stage and you look gorgeous."

A shy giggle makes its way from Y/N and she looks away from him.

"let's take pictures!" Nick suggests. The group begins to take pictures with Y/N, group ones first then individual.

When it's Chris's turn, Y/N grabs her bouquet and smiles. Chris places his hands on her waist, gripping her softly.

They stop when another dancer walks up to Matt and Nick and begins talking to them.

"Can I tell you something?" Chris asks softly, his hands fiddling with the edge of her tutu. "yeah, sure."

"I get this impending sense of doom when I'm around you. I thought it was bad, but I craved the feeling. It's like I'm addicted. when you were on stage during your solo, I realized something-" Chris finally looks away from her tutu and at her.

"I realized that impending doom was butterflies in my stomach. You make me so damn nervous and it's crazy because I don't get nervous around most girls, but you just drive me crazy, in a good way. I have only known you for two months but I really like you Y/N."

Chris stares, hopeful the ballerina won't turn him down.

"More than friends."

Y/N feels warmth across her whole body.

She also had a crush on the boy, but she never acted on it afraid he would turn her down. Now here he is, confessing his feelings in such a raw way.

"R-really?" Chris nods and moves a bit closer, his hands wrapping around her waist. Their foreheads touch and his eyes gaze at her lips for a moment.

"Be my Evangeline?"

A wide smile breaks across Y/N's face.

Still in her pointe shoes, she goes up on her toes and pulls Chris into a soft kiss.

"Nick, are you crying?"

"Shut the fuck up Matt, this is too cute, and if you tell anyone I cried I'm killing you in your sleep!"

liked by Y/I/N and 613,285 others....

Christophersturniolo: Ma Belle Evangeline, you're the best thing I never knew I needed✨

comments:

fan1: OH MY FUCKING GOD

fan2: THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE WHO KNEW CHRIS WOULD PULL A GIRL, A BALLERINA AT THAT!!!

Y/I/N: you're gonna make me cry Chris omfg

^Christophersturniolo: I'll be over to kiss them away and watch Princess and the Frog with you

mattsturniolo: nick cried when yall kissed and hes crying again at this post😆

^nicksturniolo: matt sleep with one eye open

fan3: LMAO NOT NICK ACTAULLY BEING A BIG SOFTIE

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yall this is my fav thing i have written!!! i love princess and the frog sm so i was blasting the soundtrack the whole time when writing this! please let me know what yall think!!

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angelkhi · 1 year

Text

love me, hate me - s.r

summary: steve rogers pisses you off, and you piss him off. but is it really ever that simple?

warnings: SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI), p in v, switch steve & reader, face sitting, unprotected sex, talks of bodily fluids, enemies to lovers a little bit, slight hate fucking but also not?? feelings at the end sort of.

word count: 2.8.k

a little note: Happy New Year to you all! finished this at 4 am so not beta’d any mistakes are my own (seriously i just spelled mistakes as ‘mestayks’ so like sorry lol) half based on this request but also something i already had in the works that seemed to mesh xx

"Let's not forget who's doing who a favour." You chide, already irritated by presence.

"Please sweetheart, I'm doing you more of a favour than you realise."

"And how's that Mr Rogers?" You fix his crooked tie. Always picking up after him.

"You walk in there with me? There's no way you're going home alone tonight." He smooths out the collar on his shirt, checking himself over in the mirror. "Your little problem gets solved."

"My little problem?"

"Don't get me wrong, Yels, it's great doing it yourself but it would be nice for someone give me an orgasm every now and then."

"You fuckin pig! You were listening to my conversation?" You're embarrassed. Beyond embarrassed. If there's one person that doesn't need to know about your dwindling sex life it's Steve Rogers.

"It's kinda hard not to overhear yours and Yelena's screeching on girls night." Once again those fingers fly up into quotation marks and you have to blink yourself free from the daze you're slipping into.

Maybe Steve does have a point, you're significantly louder after a bottle or two of rose, but it doesn't give him the right to use your own words against you.

"You're a dick, Rogers. It's none of your fucking business how many orgasms I have." He's smirking down at you now, something in his eyes you've never seen before. "Let's just get this over with. I don't want to have to see your face any longer than necessary."

The two of you enter the ballroom together as planned, and heads turn almost instantly. The quiet gasps and turning heads boost his scolded ego more than nicely. But that's all it is. A soothing bandage over a painful wound.

Stark's infamous shindigs that rivalled even the most grand of galas, yet you are the only thing that matters to him in a room filled with expensive champagne and extravagant sculptures. He watches you from across the room, Bucky's latest debrief on Sam's irritating behaviour blending into the mindless background chatter.

You're done up to the nines, pretty hair twisted in some intricate up-do, and that dress. That fucking dress. He wonders if things would be easier if you knew how he really felt about you, that the trading of insults between the two of you is the only way he can resist pinning you against every available surface and fucking the attitude out of you.

You work your charm with everyone that comes up to you, offering you drinks and boring conversation. You know you're in charge, so do they, and so does he.

He spots you talking to a pretty redhead he soon recognises as Wanda, she's changed since he last saw her. But he much more notices the lingering stares and flirtatious touches, the way you lean into each other and laugh a little too loud. Jealousy is no longer a green eyed monster, but a blonde haired, blue eyed super soldier.

You happen to glance over at him in that moment, taking in his tensed jaw and white-knuckle grip on his champagne flute, expecting it to shatter under any more force. He watches as you smirk in his direction, and the go back to the conversation like he wasn't even there. Sam and Bucky pull him away to a conversation that is meant to be important and he loses sight of you for the rest of the evening.

The party starts to get a little too lively towards 11pm, the rowdy crowd excited about the looming new year. You find yourself at the bar, sick of your uncomfortable shoes, ready to get more than drunk, kiss a bottle at midnight and fall into bed with your vibrator once again. Someone slides into the empty seat next to you, speaking to the bar tender. You catch the 'and whatever she's having' and roll your eyes just wanting to be left alone at this point.

Your double vodka and cranberry is slid in front of you and you take a single sip before turning to the man next to you. He's attractive, with his full beard and long brown hair. There's something in his eyes but you don't care enough to find out that much about him. He shakes your hand firmly, introducing himself as Quentin Beck. You smile and thank him when he compliments you, you hum and nod when he tells you about his latest technological venture that sounds weirdly similar to Tony's, you smile coyly when he rests a hand on your thigh and offers to take you somewhere a little less private.

You're silently disappointed that this is the best you could do on a night like tonight but you're not one to look a fort horse in the mouth. He guides you through the crowd with a hand around your waist until the function room doors come into view and your excitement dims even further. Steve stands in the doorway, arms crossed and biceps bulging as he stares at Quentin and then his hand on your waste.

"Hey honey." He wraps his fingers around your wrist lightly, stopping you in your tracks. He stares down at you for a second too long, then diverts his gaze to Beck.

"Fuck off." Two words. Two are all it takes for Quentin to crumble.

His hand moves from your waist faster than you can blink and he's already being swallowed up by the crowd when you turn away from glaring at Steve. His fingers linger around your wrist but you shrug him off, and leave the grand ballroom stomping down to the elevator.

He follows you of course, right up to your door, pushing inside when you try and slam it in his face.

"Honey that guy was a creep."

"Don't 'honey' me you just ruined my one good chance of getting laid tonight." You kick off your shoes.

"Well I wouldn't call it a good chance..."

"What was that?!" You're about to fiddle with the zip of your dress but instead steve has your attention and an insane amount of audacity.

"M'just saying he wouldn't have been worth it." He pauses, sitting on your bed uninvited. "Doesn't look like he can find his car keys let alone please a woman."

"I guess I'll never know now." You scoff.

"Use me instead."

What in the sweet baby jesus?!

"How much have you had to drink?" You chuckle, and go back to working your zip.

"You know I can't get drunk. How much have you had to drink?" He retorts, reaching up to undo the zipper for you.

"Not enough for this to be a hallucination. What's in it for you?"

"An orgasm." Fair enough.

"Why are you doing this? Are you trying to humiliate me?"

"What? No! I'm just trying to apologise for ruining your New Years hook up." He looks sincere, but then Steve never lies. You on the other hand, would be lying if you said you didn't want to jump his bones at least twenty three and a half of the twenty four hours in the day. And he's offering himself to you on a golden platter. Why turn. it down?

"Strip."

It's a simple word, but it holds so much power. Starting something that may just fucking ruin you. But you want it. He wants it. The easy route be damned. Steve is quick to discard his clothing, looking up at you expectantly waiting for your next request. You simply just let your dress drop, carefully stepping over the expensive fabric and slotting yourself between Steve's legs. His eyes widen when he realises you'd neglected to put on any underwear that evening. She reaches out to touch you, rest a hand on your hip but you slap it away.

"Lay back." You kneel over his hips, excitement fizzling on your skin as he rests on his elbows, taking up an insane amount of space with his broad shoulders and wide thighs. He doesn't move any further, a sly smirk on his lips and wonder in his eyes.

"I said I don't want to see your face, lie the fuck back." You have him under your thumb, and your pussy, when he lays back against the cotton sheets you crawl across his body and rest above his face. His hands grip onto the backs of your thighs, usually light eyes dark with lust.

"No touching." You thread his arms above him, resting forward and pinning them against the pillows. His response is muffled when you lower yourself onto his face. His tongue works wonders when he's not using it to talk and you definitely prefer it when he's not talking.

You grind yourself down against his pliant tongue, clit bumping his stupidly perfect nose with each thrust. You're taking what you deserve from him, what he owes you and you fucking love it. You love the fact that he could easily slip you underneath him, pin you beneath him and pull you apart but instead he's letting you use him, letting you grind yourself to an orgasm on his face.

"You're not so useless after all Rogers, fucking hell." His lips purse around your exposed clit and your thighs shake a little. You press yourself further against him, chasing your well deserved orgasm until you're panting above him half spent.

Lifting yourself off of him, you take in his flushed cheeks and blown out eyes. God he's pretty. Your hand strokes through his hair and he leans into your touch. Putty in your hands.

You reach back, your hands almost dwarfed by the impressive size of his pretty cock. You struggle to wrap your hands around him fully, but when you start stroking him slow but firm it doesn't matter. His face twists into one of pure bliss and his hips fuck up into your fist desperately. Deciding enough is enough you manoeuvre down his body, hovering over his painfully hard weeping cock. You drag him through your folds, almost slipping him in before bumping his engorged head against your clit until you're right on the edge of desperation and finally sink down on him.

You take him slowly at first, unable to stay quiet as he stretches you open. There's a slight sting but my god does it sting so good. Once he's fully sheathed you take a moment to accommodate, grinding down on him, twin moans coming from the two of you. You raise yourself up again, right to the tip and back down, slowly building the rhythm until you're bouncing on his cock, hitting spots you didn't even know existed panting for breath.

"You feel so fucking good." You whimper chasing your own pleasure, fuelled by Steve's. He fists the bedsheets, so obedient trying not to touch you, but you look so pretty and broken and you're touching yourself whilst you ride him, clenching down on his dick so fucking perfectly. He's more vocal than. you expected, grunting and moaning and whining.

"Fuck I'm gonna come. Steve." Your fingers roll your taught nipples between your fingers, pinching and pulling. Steve's hips stutter for a moment, but then he's right there with you, fucking up into your perfect cunt until you're shaking on his dick, grinding your clit against his pubic bone and falling over the edge.

He doesn't give you a second to breath, wrapping his strong arms around you and placing you flat on your back. You're breathless, your vision is still fuzzy but then he's pounding into you. Lifting your leg above his shoulder opening you up up to him even more. You're well and truly fucked. Not a single word or thought or even sound registering. You're just wide eyed and open mouthed and taking what he gives you.

"Not so cocky now are we, hmm sweetheart." His thumb flicks your clit once and you're coming all over again, a loud scream echoing off of the walls.

"There she is. So fucking perfect, taking what you need. Did I do well, did I satisfy your greedy pussy or do you still want more?"

"St-Steve. More." You sound so broken, so unalike yourself but you never want to go back to her when you can be this.

"Course you fuckin do. Play with your tits for me, that's a good girl." He thrusts slow but deep, your weak legs held in position by his huge hands. He relishes in your flushed face and smudged makeup. Your hair has foregone the confines of bobby pins and it's splayed out on the cushion behind you. You're fucking perfect.

"Who's cunt is this?" Your eyes lull into the back of your head when he delivers a quick sharp tap to your clit. "Tell me who's cunt it is and I'll let you cum."

"Y-Yours. Yours Steve."

"Good. And who's fuckin dick is this tearing you apart?" It's all too much, you're on the verge of crying from the overstimulation. "Who's is it?"

"Mine."

"Good fucking girl." He punctuates his words with his thrusts, picking up speed once more and rubbing small quick circles against your clit. Your tears do spill then, dark mascara running down your cheeks when you explode all over him.

He fucks you through the orgasm, pulling out of you when you begin to claw at his chest, leaving pretty marks all over him. He kneels over you, furiously stroking himself to completion until he cums in long white ropes all over your breasts, chest heaving and panting. He collapses next to you, silent as you try to catch your breaths and wrap your head around what just happened.

It shouldn't surprise you when Steve gets up to the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth, but it does. It leaves you stunned. You try not to show it though, nor do you give him a glimpse at how disappointed you are about leaving.

"Damn Rogers, you really know how to hate fuck." Steve's gaze is frantic, but mostly confused.

"Hate? I don't hate you." His eyebrows are pulled together so tightly you're scared they might just fuse into one another.

"Could've fooled me." You pull up your underwear and pull on his shirt foregoing the tight dress.

"Look. I don't. Hate. You. Do you get on my nerves? Sometimes. But I could never hate you."

"So what? You wanna call the way you've treated me since I got here a proclamation of your undying love." He's silent. "You can't be fucking serious Rogers."

"Don't be like that, you gave just as good as you got." You scoff, but it's the truth. "Every time I look at you I want to fuck you, every time I see someone even look at you I wanna fuckin... I don't know!"

"Steve..."

"You terrify me. I have all these feelings for you, but you're so... you. You're so gorgeous, you're potty mouth and you're strong and you don't take shit from no one, not even me. I'm an idiot, I know that and I don't expect a sorry to fix anything, but I need you to know that that wasn't a one time thing, I want you."

"Well fuck. You have feelings for me?" He nods, simple, effective and oh so Steve Rogers. "I thought. I don't know what I though. I walked in here and you just stared at me and left, and I guess I though you took one look at me and decided I wasn't enough. So I decided I was gonna prove you wrong."

"I think you're everything. You've certainly proved me right." He looks angry, at himself at and the situation, but mostly at the fact that you'd ever thought those things about yourself.

"Right pair of idiots we are." You mutter, trying to lighten the you're-not-sure-what mood. He pulls you into his lap, rough hand resting around your waist.

"Aren't we just." He whispers against your lips.

"How many people did you tell to fuck off tonight? Just out of interest."

"Bout 15." He mumbles and then laughs, "don't regret a single one of them though."

You surge forward and press against him. His lips are softer than expected and his movements are so slow, so tentative. You arch into him, greed driving your need to make up for the last few wasted months.

A loud bang erupts from outside of the glass windows, popping into a concoction of golds and reds and pinks, until the New York skyline is littered with individual fireworks displays.

"Happy New Year Rogers." You whisper against his lips, though it turns into a breathless whimper when he pulls your panties to the side. "You get on my nerves too by the way. Like a whole lot."

"Yeah yeah. Happy New Year."

#chris evans #marvel #marvel smut #smut #avengers endgame #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers #nomad steve #chris evans smut #steve rogers fic rec #mcu smut #captain america smut #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america #marvel fic

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austinshotbutlers · 1 year

Text

The Wedding Date - Part Two

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Your sister’s wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to you family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is… you don’t have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.1k

TW: Mentions and allusions to sex, swear words and bad writing?

A/N: Part two is here!!! I’ve tagged everyone who commented on part one but let me know if you want to be removed. The love i have received for part one has meant so much, I didn’t think it would blow up as much as it did. Thank you so much to every single one of you! There will be a part three! Part one can be found here

“Maybe we should hold hands?” You suggested as your smoothed down the red, silky dress you had picked for the party as you made your way into the extremely expensive looking lounge bar. You adjusted your hair slightly to ensure it looked perfect and once again smoothed the surface of your dress.

“Stop fidgeting, you look beautiful.” Aaron smiled and he took your hand in his.

You walked through the large doors into a gorgeous, old fashioned style bar. Family and friends were mingling all around nursing all kinds of alcoholic beverages. A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed and you quickly grabbed two, handing one to Aaron. You knocked it back in one, ready to face the challenges of the evening.

“You might want to slow down just a little bit.” Aaron laughed as he took a small sip from his own flute.

You were about to respond but the shrill sound of your sister cut you off.

“EEEEK!” She squealed as she ran over. “My sister is here! Who’s the hunk?” She attempted to whisper so Aaron couldn’t hear but failed miserably. “I’m getting married! I’m getting married!” And before you could respond, your slightly intoxicated sister ran off to hound someone else.

“She is going to be so drunk by the end of the night.” You say to Aaron, rolling your eyes jokingly.

“I’m just going to step outside and give Jack a call. Is that ok?” Aaron asks, pulling his phone out his suit pocket.

“Oh god yes! Go call him!” You ushered him away to let him phone Jack. This was your chance to go and refresh yourself and you made your way to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, tucking some loose hair back behind your ear before retouching your lipstick. You smiled to yourself as you remembered Hotch saying you looked beautiful, heat rose to your cheeks and you fanned your face to calm down. Once you had collected your thoughts and you had finished touching up your makeup, you headed straight out the restroom door and walked smack into someone.

“God I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was…” you looked up and immediately recognised the cold steely eyes that were staring back at you. “Luke….” You laughed nervously. “Hi.”

He loosened his tie slightly before he spoke. “Er… Y/N, hi.”

You both stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds as you took in his appearance. He had aged quite a bit since you had last seen him; the start of a receding hairline, a messy, unkempt beard and still wearing ill fitting suits. You took a mental note of how much better Aaron wore a suit.

“Where’s this boyfriend I’ve been hearing about?” He asked abruptly.

You were quite taken aback. “He’s somewhere in the bar. He wasn’t going to escort me to the bathroom.” You replied bluntly.

He was just about to say something else when the uncanny voice of your cousin filled the small hallway.

“Oh my god!! If it isn’t my favourite cousin ever!” She yelled, running over and embracing you tightly. “Seriously, nearly two years since I last saw you. I have ex-boyfriends I see more than you.”

You laughed as you pulled back from the hug. “Oh Livvy I’ve missed you.”

She smiled at you before turning to face Luke. “Hello asshole.” She says in a moody tone. “Hope it’s alright if I just steal my cousin away.” And before Luke could utter a single word, Liv was dragging you up the stairs back to the party.

“Thank god you came when you did. I think he was about to play 21 questions with me about my new boyfriend.” You huffed.

“I will always rescue you from that asshole.” Liv replied and picked up a glass of champagne. “Now here,” she passed it to you. “Drink! God knows you’re going to need it.”

You sipped at the drink and scanned the room to see if Aaron had joined the party again. Just then, you saw him on the arm of your mother as she introduced him to all of your aunts. She had clearly cornered him when he came back to the party and insisted on introducing him to all the family. You smiled as he said something which made the group laugh, all your aunts seeming to take an instant liking to him.

“Ok, spill! Who is the sexy boyfriend of yours then? How did you meet?” Liv asked as she watched Aaron as well.

“We work together at the BAU. He’s the Unit Chief.” You replied without a second thought.

“Dating the boss? Sounds like something I would do.” She laughed.

You shook your head with a laugh and then looked up to see that Aaron had managed to escape your mother’s death grip and was making his way over to you. When he reached you, he placed his hand on your hip and ducked down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“How was Jack?” You asked breathlessly, the tingle of Aaron’s lips still lingering on your cheek.

“Yeah he’s good. Tired from a long day playing soccer.” Aaron replied with a smile.

Your cousin coughed to remind you of her presence.

“Liv!” You burst out, moving to the side so Aaron could see her properly. “Aaron, this is my cousin Liv.” You introduced them. Aaron put his hand out and Liv shook it enthusiastically.

“Nice to meet you Aaron. I’m so glad Y/N finally got over that pathetic loser and decided to get herself a real man.”

“Liv!” You hissed at her as she embarrassed you but Aaron just smiled and moved so he could wrap his arm around your waist. “Let’s go get another drink.” You say to him and you both wondered over to the bar.

“What would you like?” Aaron asked as he caught the attention of the bartender.

“Anything that’s stronger than champagne.” You groaned.

“Two scotches please.” Aaron asked the bartender and he speedily poured out two tumblers of amber liquid.

“Thanks.” You murmured just loud enough for Aaron to hear. He placed his arm back around your waist, taking a sip of his scotch.

You started to giggle to yourself and Aaron looked at you quizzically. “What’s so funny?”

“Well it’s just…” you laughed a bit harder. “Hotch drinking scotch.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, trying his best to suppress the smile that was slowly forming on his face. “It’s not even funny Y/N.”

“Say that to the smile on your face.” You laughed harder and Aaron gave in, laughing with you. “I think the alcohol is finally working, I’m going to go and get some fresh air,” and you slowly made your way out to the patio, taking a deep breath in.

***

Aaron smiled as he watched you glide across the floor, heading to the opened doors. If someone had told him a month ago that he would be in LA with you, pretending to be your boyfriend, he would have said they were insane. This was so out of character for him yet it felt so right being here with you. Everything about you made his heart swell; your smile and laugh, your bad jokes, the way you tuck your hair behind your ears. But tonight, the way you looked in that red dress just took his breath away, you were simply stunning.

He turned back to the bar and asked for another scotch which the bartender handed over.

“I’ll have the same.” Someone said from beside him, he turned to look at the man. He had a long overgrown beard that definitely needed trimming and a rather bad fitting suit on. “Partying alone?” The man asked Aaron.

“No, my girlfriend has just gone to get a breath of fresh air.” He replied. “You?”

“All by myself tonight being painfully taunted by my ex-girlfriend.” Said the man with a sigh, taking a large gulp of his scotch.

‘Surely this isn’t Luke?’ Aaron thought to himself as he attempted to profile his mannerisms and appearance.

“Yeah she seems to be trying to make me jealous. She claims she has a boyfriend but I’m yet to see him with her. She’s desperate to show me what I’m certainly not missing.” He continued and Aaron immediately realised that this was indeed your ex-boyfriend. The bitter tone as he spoke about you so rudely was enough to make Aaron want to use all his FBI combat training but he refrained so not to cause a scene. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Aaron saw you striding effortlessly in your heels across the room to him.

*** You looked over the gorgeous gardens as you stood in the early evening, the sun beginning to set. While your sister may be an insufferable bridezilla, she knew how to pick a beautiful venue. You downed the last drop of your scotch and turned to look back inside at the party. Your sister and her fiancé Thomas were chatting to your dad, your mom was telling some extravagant story to a group of people who were laughing along and Aaron…

You looked for him and saw him where you had left him at the bar and talking to…Luke!

“Oh shit!“ you shouted out loud and received a couple of unimpressed stares from some guests who were admiring the gardens as well. You put the glass in your hand down on the nearest table you could find and hastily strode across the room to get to them. Without taking a single look at Luke, you wrapped your arms around Aaron and kissed him hard on the lips. His initial shock wore off almost instantly as he melted into the kiss, placing his free hand on the small of your back, kissing you back. It felt so perfect, so right and little did you know, Aaron felt the exact same.

You pulled back abruptly and turned to see Luke with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Luke!” You faked surprise. “I didn’t see you there. Have you two met?” You asked, motioning between him and Aaron.

“Not… not formally.” Luke replied bluntly.

“Oh! Well Luke, this is my boyfriend Aaron.” You smiled, moving so Aaron could offer his usual handshake which Luke shook reluctantly.

“I… er, I should go and find Thomas.” Luke said monotonously and he scampered away before you or Aaron could say anything to him.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Aaron. “Oh my god! That wasn’t too much was it?” You asked him frantically and Aaron just laughed.

“No, not at all. It was just a surprise is all.” He smiled sweetly.

“God I’m so sorry! And I’ve got lipstick all on your lips, hang on.” You frantically grabbed a napkin from the bar and started to wipe his lips clean of your red lipstick.

The concentration on your face made Aaron smile and he watched you with such adoration.

“Thank you.” He murmured and you looked too see him smiling at you. Heat rose to your cheeks, the way he looked you made you feel like a pre-teen again. You were about to speak when the sound of a glass being tapped silenced everyone in the bar.

“If I could please have your attention.” The voice of your mother filled the room.

“Jesus. Prepare yourself for the second-hand embarrassment from my mother speaking publicly.” You whispered to Aaron and he chuckled.

“Thank you all for coming to celebrate the engagement of my beautiful daughter Sarah and her fiancé Thomas. We have been waiting for a wedding in this family for a very long time now. We of course thought Y/N would be the first one down the aisle.” The mention of your name immediately caused a lot of looks from around the room focused on you, a couple of murmurs too and you cursed in your head whoever let your mom make a speech while feeling the affects of alcohol. However, the feeling of Aaron snaking his arm around your hips and holding you close made you relax and you tried to ignore your mom’s speech but luckily, your dad interjected and took over.

“To Sarah and Thomas!” He cheered raising a class and everyone followed suit.

“Are you ok?” Aaron whispered quietly into your ear and all you could do was nod.

***

As soon as you walked into your bedroom, you kicked off you heels and threw yourself onto the bed. Aaron walked in a couple of seconds later, loosening his tie and undoing his top button.

“That was simply awful.” You groaned into the pillow.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Aaron said as he sat down next to you on the bed, starting to unlace his shoes.

“Easy for you to say.” You huffed. “When you were talking to Luke, what was he saying?”

Aaron hesitated, debating whether or not to share the whole conversation but he settled on telling the truth. “He said you were trying hard to make him jealous and he didn’t believe you had a boyfriend.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing and sat up abruptly. “He is such a dick!” You exclaim. “How did I deal with it for 5 years?”

“What exactly happened when he broke up with you?” Aaron asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

You took a deep breath. It was about time you shared the full story, no one knew it other than you and Luke. You hadn’t realised but Aaron had placed his hand on top of yours and engulfed it completely.

“It’s ok. Take your time.” He said with such care and kindness in his voice.

“Well, it was on our anniversary of all days. I guess we had been having some rocky patches, he didn’t like the idea of me moving to Washington and he especially didn’t like the idea of me joining the FBI. Luke is the reason it took me so long to apply for the BAU and when I finally did and told him, he was so annoyed!” Tears started to well in your eyes as you remember just how horrible the fight was and Aaron’s grip on your hand tightened which comforted you. “I ignored just how bad the fight was because everyone said it was normal but looking back, he was such a…”

“Fucking asshole.” Aaron interjected.

“Exactly. He’s exactly that.” You say. “The day he dumped me, everyone had got inside my head saying he was going to propose. My mom, sister and even his mom thought he was proposing. That’s why it hurt so bad, we were even… intimate the night before he dumped me.” Anger flared inside Aaron. How could anyone ever treat you like that? If he didn’t already hate Luke from his brief meeting with him this morning, he definitely hated him now. “No one really knew what to say to me, I was so heartbroken. I had to move back in with my parents and that’s when I decided I’d had enough and I packed up everything to come to Washington.”

“And thank god you did.” Aaron said with a smile. “The team wouldn’t work without you.” And you laughed.

“I’m going to go and get ready for bed.” You said, standing up and heading to the bathroom.

Once you locked yourself in the bathroom, you released a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. You just spilled your guts to Aaron and yet, you still knew so little about him.

***

Aaron was laying in bed when you came back from fetching a glass of water from the kitchen and you laughed.

“What’s funny now?” He asked, his voice slightly muffled from how he was laying with his head deep in the pillow.

“You’re too tall for the bed.” You giggled, walking round and placing the glass down on the bedside cabinet. You then pulled back the covers to climb in yourself. “When there’s two people in the bed, it makes me realise just how small it is.”

“I can sleep on the floor if that would be better?” Aaron offered, preparing to get out of bed.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ll get a bad back.” You said, shuffling to reposition more comfortably. “We’re just going to have to squeeze together. This is so cliché. The one bed trope from those cheesy romance books I read in college.” You groaned. “Thank you, again, for doing this for me though.”

“Stop thanking me Y/N, I wanted to help you.” Aaron replied, rolling over so he could face you.

Maybe it was the liquid courage still flowing through you from the party, but you lifted you hand and placed it on Aaron’s cheek, taking in all his features.

“You’re so handsome.” You mumbled, running your thumb across his lips and heat rose to Aaron’s cheeks before you leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. Aaron immediately reciprocated, his hand moving to your hip so naturally, gripping it tightly as the kiss grew more heated between you. His mouth trailed down your neck, sucking lightly at the base which elicited a small moan from your lips. This was the most intimate you had been with someone in a long time and it felt so right to be doing it with Aaron. But suddenly and abruptly, Aaron pulled away.

“Wha… what’s wrong?” You asked breathlessly, lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Maybe we should stop before we do something we’ll regret.” He replied, moving his hand from your hip.

“But?…” you paused. Maybe he was right, sex could make things awkward. Sex could ruin your friendship. Sex could fuck up this whole arrangement. “Yeah… yeah you’re right. Erm, goodnight Aaron.” You said reluctantly and turned over to face the wall.

“Night Y/N.” You heard Aaron mumble before you drifted off to sleep.

***

Aaron woke from the bright Los Angeles sun peeking through the gap in the curtain, he looked next to him at you. You had manoeuvred during the night and were sweetly nestled into Aaron’s torso, his arm wrapped around you.

‘It was right to stop last night.’ Aaron tried to convince himself. ‘If we had slept together, it would have only overcomplicated things.’

Aaron kept these thought stirring in his head to persuade himself that he made the right call. He leaned backwards carefully so not to disturb you to reach his watch. The hands read 6:08am. He was always an early bird as it was these early mornings where Aaron felt most at ease. He carefully moved his arm from where it was wrapped around you, trying his best not to wake you. You stirred a little before rolling over, still sound asleep. He grabbed his running gear he had packed with him just in case and began to change, glancing around the room for some paper. Once he was fully dressed, he wandered over to the desk and opened a draw to reveal a stack of bright pink post-it notes. Pink was clearly your favourite colour growing up he noted in his head. He scribbled down a message on the post-it and stuck it on the empty glass on your cabinet.

He quietly walked down the stairs, trying not to disturb your parents but was shocked when he saw your dad sat at the dinning table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper.

“We haven’t scared you off have we?” Your dad asked with a laugh.

“No sir.” Aaron chuckled. “Just heading out for a run before Y/N wakes up.”

“I’d ask to join you but my running days are behind me.” Your dad said. “Venice Beach was always my favourite place to run, I recommend it for your route today.”

“Thank you sir, I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

You woke up surprised to find the bed empty, the mattress cold. You stretched to try and wake yourself up before turning to the bedside cabinet to check the time on the clock but a pink post-it caught your attention. You picked it up and read Aaron’s scruffy handwriting: ‘Gone for a run, back soon x’. The kiss at the end taunted you as memories of yesterday flashed through your head. Kissing Aaron Hotchner was something you never thought would happen in a million years, yet here you were.

You pulled the duvet back and climbed out of bed, grabbing your phone and trying to turn it on but it was out of charge.

“For fucks sake.” You mutter and scavenge through your bags to find the charger. “It has to be somewhere!” You thought out loud.

“What are you looking for?” Came the deep voice of Aaron out of nowhere.

“Shit! You made me jump!” You exclaim and stand up, turning to look at him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in his appearance. The tight shirt he was wearing accentuated his arms and the running shorts showed off his muscular thighs. The glimmer of sweat on his face and the glow of heat from the exercise made him look even more handsome than usual. This was a look you could get used to seeing everyday.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He chuckled. “If you’re looking for your charger, it’s in the big suitcase over there.” He pointed to the case that sat near the wardrobe.

“Thanks.” You say and unzip the case, reaching in to look for the cable. As soon as you fished it out the case, you plugged it in quickly and waited for the phone to get some charge.

“I’m just going to have a quick shower and then I thought we could head out for some breakfast?” Aaron suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds good. We’ve been here a day and I already need a couple of hours away from my family.” You joked and Aaron nodded with understanding.

Immediately after he closed the door to the bathroom and you heard the water running, you turned your phone on and quickly typed a message out to Emily.

7:54AM | Y/N L/N: Help!!! I think I’m falling in love with Aaron.

7:57AM | Emily Prentiss: I did warn you it would happen! What went down at the engagement party?

7:59AM | Y/N L/N: My ex is still a dick as predicted. I kissed Aaron right in front of him and you should have seen his face LOL!

8:01AM |Emily Prentiss: Did anything other than kissing happen last night? ;)

8:02AM | Y/N L/N: Shut up.

8:04AM | Emily Prentiss: Ha! You didn’t answer my question which tells me YES! Something else did happen! Spill!

8:07AM | Y/N L/N: Fine! We made out a little after the party and I think we were going to have sex but Aaron said we should stop before we did something we might regret which was of course the right decision.

8:10AM | Emily Prentiss: OH MY GOD! Of course he said that, he is so down bad for you. He knows once you have sex with each other, there is no running away from his feelings. You need to sleep with him, I bet he’s actually quite good in bed. Do you think he’s as authoritative in bed as he is when we’re on a case?

8:12AM | Y/N L/N: Emily! Stop it! I have to go, I can hear Aaron coming out the shower.

And you switched your phone off before another text could come through from Emily. She was so enjoying this too much.

***

“Any idea where we should go for breakfast?” Aaron asked you.

“There’s this really amazing brunch bar near Santa Monica pier, I used to go there all the time with Sarah.”

“Sounds perfect.” He smiled as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Your mom called from the kitchen.

You and Aaron saw her standing at the kitchen island drinking a fluorescent green smoothie.

“What’s up mom?”

“Ahh perfect! You’re both here. Sarah wanted me to ask you if you and Aaron could join her and Thomas for one of their last minute dance lessons.” She said excitedly.

You groaned like a miserable teenager. “Do we really have to? Aaron was just about to take me for brunch.”

“Yes! It will be great fun.”

You knew then, there was absolutely no getting out of this one.

***

The Wedding Date Taglist: @wanniiieeee @notsopersonalcharlie @blackeyedangel9805 @preciousbabypeter @stxlemate @twilightlover2007 @justarandommom @impala1967dwinchester @spencermiromantiko @julyhoney @thecubanator2 @xphantomphanphanaticx @lawlesshedgehog @louderfortheback @ssamorganhotchner @essenceproxima @lespendy @stiles-argent24 @rousethemouse @tvdstelenaforever @wandererseye @bibella8swan @yourfavunsub @bibimangines @lou-the-confused-bisexual @realm8626 @sophiaj650 @bylones @howabouticallyou @madz-19 @hotchnerxo @supercriminalbean @jayxox @sweetpeterparker @mina2000alex

I tagged those who commented and reblogged part one. Let me know if you want to be removed or tagged🫶🏻

***

Part three

#aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #fake dating #fake dating au #the wedding date

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skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

part ii: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: eventual smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending.

It did not occur to you to set a morning alarm as you are always woken by a knock on the door and a shout to get ready for school. Today you are woken by a hand on your shoulder and the unexpected touch startles you out of slumber.

Your hand swipes in a frenzied arc that Felix catches, smooth and swift.

And that’s how yesterday comes rushing back all at once. You stare into the eyes of your so-called bodyguard and bed-mate, recalling his brief outburst of emotion but finding Felix to be unresponsive and bland once more. His mouth is in that stupid flat line and he cocks his head, glancing at your hand in his fist.

“Good morning,” he says in that deep voice.

You wrench your hand back. He lets it go.

“The car’s outside,” he says. “You should get dressed for school.”

“What?” Your head whips to your bedside clock. You are usually woken half an hour before the car arrives, not when it is already at the door. “Why didn’t anyone wake me!”

You frantically swing out of bed, limbs in a windmill. Felix takes a few steps back.

“Sorry,” he says. “I thought you’d get up on your own.”

He is already dressed in his school uniform, white collared shirt, grey dress pants, grey blazer. He has the dark necktie in his hands and his red beanie on his head. Your eye twitches with annoyance at it, but maybe that annoyance is just for his general existence.

“You can’t wear hats, stupid,” you say, reaching to snatch the beanie off his head. He dodges your hand. “They’ll take it away.”

He looks at you uncertainly but swipes the beanie off his head.

“Go get dressed,” is all he says.

With an eye roll, you stomp over to your massive walk-in closet. It is very annoying that it does not have a door you can slam, but you slide it shut as forcefully as you can.

The uniform makes it a little easier to get ready quick, but you are still annoyed at the rush. You scurry out of the closet still shoving your arms through the blazer sleeves, your kilt longer than you like, with one sock pulled up to your knee and the other stuck around your ankle.

Felix is perched on the edge of the bed, all his attention on his tie. He clearly has no idea how to wear it properly, looping the fabric like an army knot.

You watch him. He looks at you then rips the tie off completely, crumpling it in his fist. Your own is already tied and he looks at it. You cross your arms. He stares at you.

You want him to ask for help just so you can say no, but he looks so pathetic sitting there in your girly bedroom in his schoolboy uniform, his hair still ruffled from removing his precious beanie. He looks even more ridiculous when he dons an unaffected air as if trying to appear more adult. It makes him look even more his age.

“Ugh.” You stomp over to him. “Give it to me.”

He obeys without protest, passing you the tie.

“I should strangle you with it,” you say, hooking it around his neck and jerking him closer. He bumps into your stomach. “Then all my problems would be solved.”

“Would they, though?” he asks, looking up at you with his glassy dark eyes, innocent despite the sass in his tone.

“Shut up,” you reply.

Even his laugh is deep. You hate him.

“There.” You push the knot up to his throat, tighter than necessary. He adjusts it wordlessly. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” he says, pretending to miss the sarcasm.

He ducks down and grabs your sock, tugging it up to your knee. The unexpectedness makes you jump. You feel an unbidden rush of embarrassed heat flow to your face, worsening when he looks up at you. You have a moment of proximity awareness, that a boy your own age is in your room and he is alone with you, and he has pretty dark eyes and freckles and a cute smile.

But then he says, “I’ll call your dad and tell him we slept in but should be on time for school.”

Then you remember what he is, and you hate him again.

“You’re gross,” is your lacklustre retaliation.

“Hmm, maybe, I haven’t showered yet today,” he says, then reaches into his backpack. “Also, if they’d take away my hat, do you think they’d take away this?”

The little freak pulls a gun out of his backpack and blinks up at you with complete innocence. When you just gawp at him, a smile tugs at his mouth and he scrunches up his face.

“Nahh, you’re right,” he says. “Bad idea for the first day of school.” Then he puts it in his drawer with his beanie and slams it shut. He smiles at you. “Shall we?” He gestures to the door.

You do not dignify his nonsense with a response. You grab your own backpack and storm out of the room.

The driver stops in his usual spot. It feels very routine until you and Felix get out of the car and it simply drives off. The driver usually waits until you are in sight of a guard posted at the main entrance to the high school.

Today, you and Felix walk side-by-side, looking like two regular students as you approach the school. You are still expecting to see one of the usual guards lurking around but you find no one when you search.

A part of you feels lighter, the weight of their scrutinizing stares lifted, but then you remember how Felix spent the car-ride on the phone with your father, and that weight settles heavy as stone in your gut. Felix is even worse than them, you tell yourself, because he is truly right beside you. The schoolboy routine might fool other people but you can’t let it fool you. Felix might look normal but he is not. You are still trapped. You cannot get complacent.

You huff and look at Felix. He has his head tipped all the way back, looking in awe at the high ceilings of the entryway. With his true purpose in your mind, his presence grows more infuriating by the second.

“Between this and the uniform, you’d think they don’t have schools in Australia,” you say dryly.

He looks at you. He is wearing a pristine new backpack and clutching the straps, standing ramrod straight, very contrary to the lazy sling of your worn leather bag and equally lazy slouch.

“They do,” he answers simply.

“Then why are you acting like you’ve never attended school before?” you snap.

He just blinks. “I haven’t,” he says.

The answer surprises you to silence. Before you can find a reply, you are interrupted by the familiar voice of your best friend.

“Yo, yo, yo, what’s up, it’s my favourite girl and I’m not just saying that because she’s the only girl who will talk to me.”

You can’t help but snort, forever amused with Jisung’s antics. He very literally bounces up to you, miming dribbling a basketball, then looking like he’s dancing, or maybe casting a spell. He swirls his hands around and around, then holds his arms open for a hug.

You accept it, looking at Felix even though there is nothing for him to report. The previous guards already reported your friendship with Han Jisung but your father has never said anything about it. You figure he sees Jisung as a non-entity, too poor to cross his radar, unthreatening with his anxiety and goofy disposition, and ultimately worthless thanks to his shit grades. Your father doesn’t pay attention to human things, like how Jisung is funny when you get to know him, how he loves music more than anything, or how he is masterful with a pen, just not academically.

Felix also fails to notice these things. His attention narrows to a pinprick, gaze focused on Jisung’s backwards cap.

“Nice hat,” Felix says, undoubtedly thinking about his beanie back home.

Hats are genuinely not allowed; Jisung just makes his own rules and lives by them, even when it gets him walloped him up the head by the math teacher.

Jisung notices Felix for the first time, his mouth curving into a perfectly round ‘O’ of surprise. It is not everyday you are towing another student in your shadow. You are cordial enough with your classmates but it’s hard to keep friends when you can never see them. Jisung is the only one who never pushes it, content with your company when he has it.

“Whaaat,” he says, looking at Felix then at you. “Another new kid?”

“Huh?” you say. “There’s another new kid?”

“Bro, things are weeeird today,” Jisung says, making an exploding gesture beside his head. “Got back from the weekend: no more security guards! And that janitor with the lazy eye who used to stare at me? Gone. Just poof.” That janitor was one of your guards and he was watching you, not Jisung, but you always nodded along whenever Jisung went on a tirade about government watchdogs. “Then someone says it’s all because of this rich new kid, that his dad didn’t like it or something so all he did was snap his fingers and boom, now the school is his. Which is obviously stupid. Money doesn’t let you get away with changing a whole school.”

Money lets you get away with a lot of things. There is a tingling pain where your cheek is still swollen from your father smacking you. Your force yourself to smile at your naïve friend.

“I don’t think that’s this kid,” you say.

“Aw, no, I knew that,” Jisung says. “I saw the other guy already. He’s like… whoa. Like whoa. Like I hate him. He better not talk to me, because it’s on fucking sight.”

You burst out laughing because Jisung couldn’t win a fight against a battered puppy. He laughs along, aware of his own ridiculousness.

Felix just stands there, smiling politely but not laughing. Eventually he asks, “Why don’t you like him?”

“Bro, this dude was so beautiful it’s like he was wearing a filter in real life,” Jisung says this like a curse, dramatically scowling. “Don’t worry, though, you’re cool with me. Not that you’re ugly or anything. My bad. Anyway, I’m Jisung, what’s up?”

“Hi, I’m Felix.”

Jisung holds out his fist and Felix looks at it. You wonder if Felix even knows what a fist bump is. Maybe they don’t have them in whatever backcountry crevice your father dug him out of, seeing as he has balked at several other mundane things, but then Felix smiles and completes the fist bump.

He really does look like normal school kid. You have to swallow down your aggravation.

“Fee-licks…?” Jisung says. “Weird name. Cool boots. Sexy voice. I’m super jealous, maybe I do hate you. Are the freckles real?”

“Uh.” Felix furrows his brow. “Yeah?” He says it like it should be obvious and you hate that you almost laugh.

“Cool, cool,” Jisung says. “And the accent is…?”

“Australian.”

“Naaaur, that’s sick,” Jisung says, then clearly regrets it. He turns his cap around to cover his eyes. “Sorry. It’s a Monday. But this is fun, we’re a menage-a-trois now.”

“Um,” Felix says, coughing. “Do you know what that means?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, frowning at Felix. “Because no we’re not. Felix isn’t my friend. I just said I’d show him to his classes but I’m still sitting with you and he’s gonna deal with it.”

You and Felix stare at each other and Jisung looks between you, eyes ping-ponging. Eventually, he smiles and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“All right,” Jisung says. “You’re in a friendly mood, as usual. We love to see it. Felix, don’t let her scare you, she’s nice, you just need to give her a treat first. That’s why I carry around a bag of her favourite spicy peanuts even though I am super allergic.” His backpack is already unzipped, a messy binder sticking out of it, so he easily reaches back and plucks out a bag of peanuts.

You take them from him, rolling your eyes affectionately.

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s go before your new arch nemesis walks by and I have to save your sorry ass.”

You loop arms with Jisung and move swiftly ahead. Felix trails behind you, hands on his backpack straps, glancing around the corridor. You don’t know if his careful regard is curiosity or just him being a bodyguard, eyeing the rambunctious students and their open lockers with a wary eye.

Jisung prattles on about some new cartoon. He looks back to ask Felix if he has ever heard of it and Felix shakes his head. While they are engaged with each other, your own attention strays.

It’s then you see him.

You couldn’t care less about a beautiful new kid, not when Lee Minho is just a few feet away.

Oh god. He really is perfect. He looks like he walked off the screen of a drama, slouching against the wall with his hands in his pockets, his tie loose and blazer unbuttoned. His brown hair falls neatly around his handsome face, his mouth quirked up in a smirky little half-grin. He raises an eyebrow in reply to his friend, then he laughs, his whole face brightening with his delight.

Minho is two years older than you, not yet a senior but the school’s It Boy regardless. He attended the senior prom in his freshman year, escorting one of the senior girls, and it’s no surprise. He’s handsome, he’s hilarious, he’s smart, he’s talented. He’s everything. Charmingly brusque and occasionally snarky, but a famously good friend underneath his teasing. He has never been single for more than a day, but his ego has never blown up and none of his ex-girlfriends have anything bad to say about him.

Your crush is like a fuzzy hug. The edge of your vision blurs in a dreamy frame around his face. He lifts a hand and tucks some hair behind his ear at the same moment he glances aside. For a brief but substantial moment, your eyes meet. Your heart stops.

Then you step down funny and roll your ankle.

Despite holding your arm, Jisung is too slow to catch you. A small but strong hand grabs the back of your jacket and yanks, keeping you upright. It doesn’t stop you from stumbling around like a newborn foal, but at least you don’t hit the ground.

Your face is burning hot, your gut sinking with a flush of embarrassment. You chance a look at Minho, his face in a somewhat concerned cringe before he goes back to laughing with his friends.

Oh my god, you think. This is the worst week of my life. And that’s fucking saying something.

“Are you all right?” Felix’s dumb deep voice is suddenly in your ear. He is standing a lot closer, his hand in the middle of your back.

You shove him off, glaring. Jisung puts a hand on your shoulder and says, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” It makes you feel like a poorly behaved horse. Minho isn’t paying attention anymore but it all feels so wretchedly embarrassing.

Why is your existence so pathetic? All you do is get jerked around, physically and emotionally. You are a walking, talking font of humiliation. Your face stings and your ankle hurts and both boys are looking at you with concern, except one of them is your friend who doesn’t know anything about your life and one of them is on a payroll and knows too much.

“I’m fine!” you snap. You tug down your blazer and adjust your collar. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, baby,” Jisung says, trying to laugh, his big eyes still full of pity. He glances back at Minho, then looks at Felix. Barely audible, he whispers, “She likes him.”

“Jisung!” You whack him in the arm and he cries out like you chopped a limb.

Felix just looks over at Minho, cocks an eyebrow, then looks back at you. You have no idea why but it makes everything ten times worse. It is silly to feel that way because all the girls have a crush on Minho so it is not a well-kept secret. For some reason, Felix knowing you like someone makes it more embarrassing. Not even because of your father, though you are certain Felix will tell him soon enough.

You can’t even stomp to class because your ankle hurts. You settle for stalking with a broody countenance.

Your first classroom is arranged in tables that seat two, so you sit with Jisung in your usual spot. Felix takes the spot directly behind you. As a new face, he gets curious glances from other students. He pays them no mind. He unpacks his bag in silence then he folds his hands neatly on the desk and stares at you.

You are glaring ferociously at a straight-faced Felix when Jisung elbows you sharply in the side. You whack him but this time he whacks you back, making his big brown eyes even bigger than usual. You look at him funny. It takes a second to realize he is trying to point with his eyes.

You look up just in time for an insanely gorgeous stranger to pass the desk. You are certain your expression betrays you. At least with Minho, you are mostly practiced at schooling your reactions, but this one catches you off guard.

This must be the other new kid. He’s really tall and slender, lacking Minho’s slightly thicker athleticism but more than compensating with a natural grace. His black hair falls in a very neat shape around his perfect face, his cheekbones high, his brows thick, his lips full. He is wearing a cross-strap satchel that he gracefully swings off.

The only available seat is the one beside Felix. The two boys glance at each other only briefly, neither knowing the other is also new. All eyes are on them. Felix must be aware but ignores it, his gaze resolutely focussed on yours. The other new guy is clearly used to attention, smiling softly as he looks around.

His eyes meet yours, your heart puttering because he holds your gaze.

His soft smile spreads.

Jisung coughs loudly. You look at him and he mouths the word, “Traitor.”

There is no time for conversation because the bell rings and the teacher starts class. She takes a minute to introduce the two new kids: the foreigner, Lee Felix, and the transfer, Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin apparently attended school on the other end of town but switched when his family moved into this district.

It sounded like bullshit. He crossed the city, not the country. Surely no one transferred schools for something so petty as a twenty minute commute. Maybe if Hyunjin was not so stunning, people would have bought the excuse, but the whole school was very interested in knowing everything about him.

By lunch, several stories have spread, everything from expulsion for fighting to sleeping with a teacher, but you doubt the truth of the tales. Almost all the stories tie into the removal of the security presence and you know that has nothing to do with Hyunjin.

By far the most ridiculous is that he murdered another student and his rich father got rid of the security team so they would never find evidence if he killed again.

Jisung told you that one. You are not entirely convinced he didn’t start the rumour himself.

“Felix,” Jisung says. He points across the cafeteria table with a carrot stick. “Tell the truth, have you ever killed anyone?”

Felix chokes on his soup. “What?” he asks, smiling with forced civility.

You doubt Jisung notices his discomfort. He is off in his own world, drawing shapes in the air with the carrot.

“I just think,” Jisung drawls, “that it would be funny if everyone thought Mister Supermodel Oh Look At Me Look At Me was a serial killer, which he totally is by the way, but actually it was the super chill Australian dude with the skater hair.”

Felix brushes at his dyed blonde bangs. He glances at you but you have no rescue to offer, especially because Jisung’s question rattled you.

No, not the question. The answer. It clearly unnerved Felix. Why would it startle him if the answer was not a resounding yes? Has Felix killed someone? He’s fourteen years old. How could a kid have that kind of history?

How could a kid get hired for a job like this? you remind yourself. How could a kid be trusted to do the work of a whole team of men? How could a kid devote every second of the day to watching someone else?

How could a kid be willing to drive a knife through his hand just because an awful old man asked him?

Felix clears his throat. He grabs a napkin and dabs at his mouth. By the time Jisung looks at him, Felix is smiling brightly. He laughs a carefree laugh, completely blithe, like he has never had a problem bigger than flunking a math test.

“You’re funny,” Felix says. “I’ve like killed a few bugs if that counts. Augh, you don’t even want to know the things I’ve squashed.”

“Ohh, gross, yeah, Australian bugs are like the size of my head, right?” Jisung cups his whole face in demonstration.

“Bigger,” Felix says, scrunching his nose cutely.

You feel sick.

You shove your tray away and stand up, drawing their eyes to you. Jisung asks where you’re going but Felix is already on his feet, ready to follow. You don’t bother protesting. It won’t do any good.

You are thinking.

Everyone has been so preoccupied with Hyunjin that no one has remarked on Felix at all. You and Jisung tend to blend into the background so his seeming friendship with the outsiders probably didn’t help matters, but a new kid tends to garner attention no matter what.

You wonder if Hyunjin is a plant, another of your father’s men, someone to take the heat off Felix until he’s settled. Another pair of eyes. Watching you. Studying you. Following you. In the light, in the dark, staring, recording, remembering –

Felix touches your arm and you whip around. It catches him by surprise and clearly triggers something, because two seconds later you are squished against his chest with no way out.

He releases you quickly, realizing what he did, and you stumble.

“Closet,” you say before he can speak.

He follows your line of sight to the nearby janitorial closet, opening his mouth to protest when you push him. He gives you a beleaguered look but goes. He walks with a casual saunter like nothing is amiss, like a closet is a normal place to go.

You close the door, leaving you and Felix in the pitch black darkness. There is probably a light somewhere but you are too frazzled to bother searching. You get right to the point.

“Is Hyunjin one of ours?” you demand.

“Huh?” You can’t see his face but you can picture that crinkle in his brow. “What do you mean, one of ours?”

“Does he work for my father?”

“Obviously not,” Felix says. “He’s clearly a civilian?” He says this with incredulity, like it should be obvious.

“How do you know that for sure?”

“Because I’m not a civilian,” he says, sounding impatient. You wish you could see his face after all, wondering if he is showing proper emotion again. Maybe he’s rolling his eyes. It would reassure you, in a way, make your fears feel silly. “Look, I know the timing is like funny and stuff, but it’s really just a coincidence. Your father would tell me if he was planning something so I could play along. It would be stupid to plant something and not tell me.”

“So maybe you knew,” you say. You are now thankful for the dark because tears spring to your eyes. “Maybe you knew all along. Maybe Hyunjin isn’t the only one. Maybe there’s a dozen of you except now I don’t know what you look like. Maybe you’re all watching me. Maybe you’re all laughing at me, watching my dad do what he wants, watching him laugh at me too—”

“Are you crying?”

He sounds genuinely surprised. A moment later, his clumsy hands are bumping your face. You try to push him away but he mistakes it in the dark, thinking you are pulling him closer. You can feel him step forward, his hand on your cheek.

“Sweetheart,” he says, with so much depth that it makes you shiver. His accent makes the word sound fuller, the heart deeper. It sounds honest. “I have one job,” Felix says. His thumb catches a tear. “Just one. My job is to keep you safe. Not to keep secrets from you, and not to lie for your father. Maybe that’s someone’s job, probably, but it’s not me. I’m not lying to you. I’m just here to keep you safe. That’s it. I promise.”

You grab his wrist and hold it for a shuddering second. A part of you wants to cling to it like a foolish little girl. You’re both too young to be in here.

You fling his hand off your face.

“I don’t feel safe,” you say. You wipe your own face quickly. “I hate you. I hate my life. Get away from me.”

He has the decency to hang back a few feet, but Felix has no real choice in the matter. You wonder if he ever did, but you don’t dwell on that thought for too long. You can’t bring yourself to mourn for his life as well as your own. You need someone to hate and your father is never around, so you spend the rest of the day glaring at Felix. You don’t talk again, not on the car-ride home, not at the house, not in your room.

The cook prepared dinner and left it on the stove. You refuse to eat until late evening, holed up in your room under the pretense of doing schoolwork. You text Jisung but not about anything substantial. You are pretty sure your father installed spyware on your phone. Better to keep it simple and veer away from heavy subjects when Jisung hits you with the watery-eyed emojis.

Felix checks on you occasionally but otherwise leaves you be. You hear him on the phone with your father, his professional voice so uncanny for a kid, deep voice or not.

Eventually you make your way to the kitchen where Felix is sitting at the counter. He is wearing his stupid beanie again, the same ripped jeans as yesterday, the same t-shirt and flannel. There is a stack of papers beside an open schoolbook. You can’t help but notice the printed book report sitting at the top of the pile, one not due until Friday.

“How’d you finish that so fast?” you ask, forgetting you weren’t going to speak to him.

Felix looks up from reading the textbook. Surprise creases his brow. He probably didn’t expect you to start a conversation, and certainly not about something so mundane as schoolwork.

He glances at the report then up at you. “Uhh,” he says, then his face cracks into a grin, “I’m not actually here for an education. I mean, the readings are… kinda fun… I never did homework before so… anyway. Someone does the homework for me, you know, to keep up appearances and stuff.”

“That’s not fair,” you say. “Why can’t they do my homework too? Wait, do you wanna do my homework while they do yours?”

“No, because you are there for an education,” Felix says lightly, almost teasing. This is your nicest conversation so far. It unsettles you more than an argument, so you say nothing more and head to the stove for your dinner. You are spooning it into a bowl when Felix clears his throat. You hear papers shuffle. “That’s not all,” he says. “I, uhhh, I don’t know if you… if you even want this. I just… thought it might make you feel more, I dunno, at ease, or something, if you saw for yourself.”

You cannot help your curiosity. You accept the paper he offers.

“It’s, uh, Hyunjin,” he says. “I asked for some research and information just to show you he’s, like, real. It’s just his school record and stuff…”

You give the papers a cursory glance. They could be faked but you do actually believe that Hyunjin’s timely arrival is nothing more than coincidence. No one can get his story straight but that’s because high school gossip is stupid and unreliable. Hyunjin is gorgeous and graceful when he is trying, but he’s also somehow clumsy as a newborn foal, stumbling all over the field during gym class and whining when a tennis racket grazed his elbow. Nothing about him really screams super spy. Plus, you doubt a spy would have got detention on his first day for skipping class and making out with one of the senior girls.

“It was fighting, if you’re curious,” Felix says.

You look up at him, eyebrow lifted.

“The reason he left his old school,” Felix clarifies. “He got expelled for getting in a fight with another student. Over a girl.”

He rolls his eyes and the unexpectedly sassy judgement makes you laugh. You don’t miss the flicker of delight that crosses his face, though you do ignore it. You poke at your rice bowl.

“I guess you’re not a romantic,” you say dryly.

“Uh, beating the shit out of someone is not romantic,” he says, still in a somewhat sassy tone, his eyebrows high. He closes the book and shakes his head. “Violence is never romantic. Violence is just violence.”

That does make you look at him longer. You are talking about romance, not family love, but it is still the closest anyone has come to telling you there is no love in violence.

“What about me?” you eventually say. “Aren’t you supposed to beat the shit out of someone for looking a little too long in my direction?”

“That’s different,” he says, frowning. “It’s my job. Why, who’s looking at you?”

You feel like he is goading you so you roll your eyes and walk away with the rice bowl.

“Is it Lee Minho?” he asks.

You turn and look at him with a scowl. “Minho hasn’t down anything,” you say. “He doesn’t even know I exist. What, are you gonna tell my dad every time someone takes a breath in the same room as me because they are stealing my potential oxygen?”

“Okay, first of all, don’t say hilarious things like that when you’re starting an argument, it’s really annoying.” Felix gets up and crosses the room. “Second of all, I didn’t tell your father anything. I didn’t tell him about Minho, and I didn’t tell about Jisung. Even though I’m pretty sure Jisung is the reason you snuck out for that party.”

Well, Minho was the reason, but it was Jisung who texted to tell you that he was at the same house party. The security team had confiscated your phone for the evening, adhering to your father’s phone privileges timetable, and you only got it back before bed. By the time you got dressed and snuck out, Minho had left the party, so you spent the night sitting with Jisung on the roof, complaining about stupid shit, completely unaware how much your life was about to change.

Did it change for the worse? You still don’t know. Felix has not confiscated your phone. It lends some credence to his honesty, but maybe it’s all a ploy…

“I can see you thinking,” Felix says, tipping his head as he scrutinizes you. “It’s like your face turns into a book.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” you lie. “And if I was, thinking isn’t a bad thing.”

“No, it’s not,” he says. “Except when you overthink so much that it makes you cry for no reason.”

“For no reason?” you shriek, a hot ripple of anger moving through you.

“Or that,” he says calmly. “You feel everything a lot and you let it take over—”

You look at him, mouth open, utterly incredulous. “I think I have every reason to behave the way I do,” you snap. “But aren’t you my daddy’s good little watchdog, repeating his words back to me?”

“I’m not repeating anything,” Felix says, looking marginally more worked up because of the accusation. He takes a breath and calms himself again. “I’m just saying, your anger isn’t helping the way you think it is.”

“It makes me feel better.”

“No, I’m sure it doesn’t,” he says. “Because it has no where to go. I see you and you just keep turning it onto yourself. And I get it. I know what that is, and I know what it feels like, and I also know if you let yourself feel all that… all that everything, so much, all the time, then it’s just going to burn you out. Then no one will have to lift a finger against you. You’ll do it to yourself. You’ll get tired. And he’ll win all the same.”

You just stare at him. You are certain your face is a book again, emotion written plainly.

Felix touches the back of his head and looks away. He looks at the ground. Finally, he looks at you.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am just trying to do my job.”

“Right,” you say. “Your job.”

Keeping you safe from other people is just one part of the gig. The biggest part is keeping you safe from yourself.

You take your phone out of your back pocket and practically throw it at him. The bowl shakes in your trembling hand. You hate, more than anything, that he is so right, because your tears are on the surface again and it does not feel good.

“There,” you say.

His reflexes are fast. He doesn’t even fumble. He looks at the phone with confusion.

“You can take away the power chord for my computer too, if you want,” you say. “And you can lock me in my room – sorry, our room – when it’s curfew. And you can—”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Felix says, exasperated. He holds the phone out. “I’m not going to do any of that stuff. I’m not your enemy, I’m your bodyguard.”

“What if he makes you?” you ask. The he needs no clarification. “What if he puts my hand on the desk and tells you put a knife through it?”

“That won’t happen,” Felix says seriously. “Not if we work together. But if we keep going the way we’re going, then something bad is going to happen and we won’t be able to stop it.”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” you say, venomous.

“Trust me,” he says. “I don’t. I’m just the same as you.”

“And what am I?”

“Scared.”

Silence settles between you. His arm is outstretched, the phone an offering. When all you do is stare at it, he tentatively approaches. He leaves room for refusal but steps closer and simply puts it in your pocket himself. He nods sharply at you.

A single gesture of goodwill cannot undo a lifetime of conditioning to assume the worst in your captors. Felix occupies a strange liminal territory in that he seems to simultaneously be a captor and captive. You spend the next couple weeks watching your bodyguard carefully, watching him as he establishes a routine, watching him as he blends into the background of your life as if he was always there.

You don’t hear from your father. You excel on your book report. You don’t hear from your father. You fail a math test. You don’t hear from your father. You fall in the backyard and scrape your leg so badly that Felix has to give you stitches. You don’t hear from your father.

You get in a fight with some asshole at school. The oafish senior smashes into Felix’s shoulder as he walks past. Felix can take a hit, of that you have no doubt, but he plays the part of skittish fourteen year old well. He ducks out of the way.

The senior thinks this is funny and grabs Felix by the hair, yanking him back. You watch, shocked, as the guy slams Felix up against the lockers so hard they rattle. There are a few shrieks and gasps from scattered onlookers. Someone runs off for a teacher but mostly people give a wide berth.

Felix’s jaw clenches then he smiles. Everyone is looking at the sweet, sunny face. You are certain only you see his balled fist.

“Aren’t you gonna apologize for walking into me?” the senior asks.

“Sorry,” Felix says, playing his part well. “I didn’t see you.” He tries to step away and the guy shoves him back. Felix sucks in a breath, steadying himself.

“Why not?” the guy further taunts.

Felix cannot fight for himself without revealing too much. You, on the other hand, can walk right up and smack the guy with your math book. You hit the back of his head and he stumbles then whips around with a furious glare.

“What the fuck, bitch?” he says.

You see red quickly. You spit at him.

“Don’t call me a bitch, bitch,” you snap.

He wipes the spit off his face and takes a menacing step towards you. Felix is quick, his feet planted, his assessing gaze no doubt analyzing weak spots.

The scene ends abruptly because someone else grabs the guy and shoves him back. You jump, startled, your heart rate tripling when Minho turns around to look at you.

“You okay?” Minho asks.

Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. Your anger evaporates, a mushy warmth replacing it.

Minho’s brow furrows and he looks at the senior. He gives him a little shove.

“What’s your problem?” Minho asks. “You like picking on kids?”

A viciously mean laugh rings out beside you. You turn your head to Hyunjin, his hand covering his mouth as he tries and fails to hold his giggles.

“That’s pathetic, man,” Hyunjin says, then he winks and puts up his fists. “Wanna try me next?”

You remember that Hyunjin got expelled for fighting. He must be putting on a show right now because his silly, limp fists wouldn’t do any harm.

It gets everyone laughing but that doesn’t take much given how much people swoon over Hyunjin. An unspoken rivalry has risen between him and Minho, though you never see them interacting. In true popular boy fashion, they are above active engagement. Still, it is significant that they have openly taken the same side in this altercation. It means the senior stands absolutely no chance.

He shoves Minho’s hand off his shoulder and glares at Felix.

“You’re not worth it,” he says and stomps off. You watch him go, hoping you don’t look so pathetically wounded when stomping around.

Jisung arrives late, but just in time to ‘comfort’ Felix.

“Don’t stress it, man, don’t stress it,” he says. “I mean, stress it a little, the hot guys got hotter and you’re gonna be bitchless forever, but other than that, don’t stress it.”

You are staring silently out the window on the car-ride home. Felix pokes your shoulder and you look at him.

“You know I’m supposed to be the bodyguard, right?” he says, dryly, but the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

You don’t return the smile, but you are less venomous than usual when you say, “You’re welcome, you big baby.”

He looks out the window and smiles.

You still don’t hear from your father.

One night, you are laying in bed beside Felix, a gulf of space between you as usual. You can hear him snoring. You think about him up against that row of lockers. You start overthinking. You know, logically, your father would not hire a second-rate bodyguard. You know better. You do.

“Felix,” you whisper, but he keeps snoring. You slip out of bed and he rolls onto his back, but then he goes back to snoring.

You slip into your walk-in closet. You text Jisung. It’s a Friday night so there’s a party somewhere. You change into party clothes and sneak back into your room. Felix is laying on his back, fast asleep, his breathing light.

The doors are all alarmed so that’s a bad way out. You make it all the way to the bedroom window when a very sturdy pair of arms wrap around you. You don’t even have time to scream. Felix bodily pulls you back through the window. When you fight him, he easily outmanoeuvres you. He always tries to be gentle with you, though, and it gives you an advantage. You manage to topple over, taking him with you. You land in a tangled heap on the huge bed, squirming under him.

“Stop it!” he says, sounding righteously pissed off. “Seriously?! What the fuck! I thought we were past this shit? What do you think you’re doing!”

“What are you doing?” You try shoving him to no avail. “Can’t you be normal for once—”

“Do you know what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in by going out alone at night, on a weekend, for fuck’s sake—”

This time when you shove him, he actually moves. He sits up with an aggravated huff, shoving his sleep-messed hair out of his face. You keep eye contact, an intense stare that fractures on his end, his gaze dropping when you suddenly pull your shirt off.

“Look at me,” you say. “You think the danger’s out there? What about the danger in here?”

He looks. He looks at the scar on your collarbone and the one on your stomach. You can’t tell if his morose expression is a reaction or just his frustration simmering.

“I don’t understand,” he finally says. “You have choices. It doesn’t have to be like this. Why do you intentionally—why do you keep—”

“What choices?” you ask. “Submission or else? How is that a choice?”

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” he asks. “Kicking at the bars just to see if they’re still there when you already know the answer?”

“See,” you say, smiling a bitter smile as you lay back, “you do understand me.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. He wears a big t-shirt and baggy shorts to sleep, the shape making him look even smaller than usual. Felix is skinny, despite his hidden strength, pretty and unassuming and too competent for his own good.

Your smile fades. You watch him rack his brain, his face a plainly written book to you just as much as you are to him.

“Where did you come from?” you ask. “Who were you? What happened to make you like this?”

His glance grazes your scars. He steps back, off the bed. He holds your gaze in his.

“I’ll tell you,” he says. “I’ll tell you. I told you I will always be honest with you. So if you ask, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything and I won’t spare any details.”

Something in the tone of his voice makes you feel sick. You reach for your shirt and twist the fabric between your fingers.

“So?” you say, voice unsteady.

“So,” Felix says, “I would really appreciate it if you didn’t ask me. Because if you do, I will be honest with you. I will always be honest with you. So ask me, if that’s what you want. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know what I want,” you say. “I don’t think I know how to want something.”

“That’s probably for the best,” he says. He gives you no time to dwell on this, sharply adding, “Go get dressed for bed. It’s late. I won’t tell your father what happened. Just get back in bed. Good night.”

He pivots as swiftly as his tone, straight to the bathroom where he closes the door to give you privacy. It is also an implicit statement of trust, or maybe a statement of ability, that you could make for the window again but you wouldn’t get far.

You don’t think anywhere is far enough. You think you could scour the world and not find another person who understood you even half so well as Felix.

You are under the covers when he returns. He doesn’t say anything, just slips into bed and lays on his back. You feel small under the thick blanket in the huge bed, so much space between you that it feels like a tangible block, cold and cruel and solid. His eyes are open, not even pretending to sleep, but he stares up at the ceiling. He is shivering. He must feel the cold too.

You reach out slowly, your hand gliding across the blanket. It gives him ample time to notice, even with his mind so far away. His dark eyes flick down to that hand, suspended in the big open space between you. He stares at it for a long time, so long that sleep starts to creep into the corners of your vision. You float in a quiet, cool, half-waking world.

Then he takes your hand. You wake up. He looks at you across that chasm, your arms stretched between you, your hands clasped together. You squeeze his hand and he squeezes yours back.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #bodyguard au #skz imagines #stray kids imagines

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emsgwenstan · 3 months

Text

Holding on to our family

{Larissa Weems x fem niece reader.}

Words: 2k

Warnings: flashbacks, angst, hurt.

Note/summary: after Larissa’s death, y/n heads back to nevermore to tie some loose end or attempt to anyway.

2 miles to Jericho. That’s it. You know how far the township is from the airport like the back of your hand, but for the first time you wish you didn’t because then the sickening feeling wouldn’t be so prominent. You remember the first time you traveled to Vermont from London, you were 14 and she happily greeted you at the station in Burlington.

The sun was unwelcomly shining and casting rays through the branches, she loved the sun, the shadows whipping over the car from the ungodly speed you were doing. “Auntie lissa I’m scared.” You said. “Just go slow sweetheart, I’ll tell you when to change gears.” She smiled. “Ok, oh my- don’t you get scared passing other cars!” You shrieked. “You will be fine just concentrate on your side of the road. I promise you will be ok.” She said. And you believed her. If only she could see you now.

Passing by the Jericho sign you slowed down to take the turn off for nevermore’s drive way. ‘12 minutes’, you thought opting not to speed trying to drag it out for as long as you can. Once the iron gates came into view, your heart paced quicker. The nostalgia filled your senses as you recall how your nevermore days were the best of your life, you had friends, you did well in school, you had the privilege of having a single dorm with your own space and privacy and it was all thanks to her.

Larissa was the one who helped you on your darkest days, lightest and every other one in between, it started from the day you were born, your mother was absent and you father was always busy with his company and running off with his abundance of secretaries. She is- well was your fathers sister, your aunt consequently, but you forgot that most of the time, she was more like both the parents you needed in one, every holiday she would come back to the uk and visit, doing everything she possibly could, like teaching you to drive.

Putting the car in park in the lot that displays ‘reserved for principle L.W.’ You stepped out, the whole 6 feet of you, plus the extra inches from the heels you had on, straightened your blazer, did up the button then smoothed out your signature Weems, platinum blonde hair. The cobblestone clacking the whole trek, as expected once you rounded the corner many eyes set on your figure, students and teachers all going quiet and whispering to each other. Some you still remember.

Not stopping until you climbed the stairs to her office you made it on top of the mezzanine, your eyes flicked to her hanging portrait on one of the far walls. Pacing to the painting you admired it for a moment before you slid it aside to retrieve the spare key. For the first time in two years you stepped through the threshold of her office, it felt weird, wrong, the fire wasn’t alight, her laptop wasn’t resting on top of her desk, but everything else remained in exact place as the last time you saw it.

You walked around the desk to sit in her chair, just like you had many times before. “Here my sweet, sit here, it will be easier to do your homework.” She’d say. “Thanks lissa, you’re not leaving though?” You asked. “No, I am done for the day, but I’ll be right here on the lounge reading for a bit.” She said coming to stand behind your place in her chair, she pressed a kiss to the top of your head and walked over to lay down with her heels removed and legs slung over the edge of the couch. How you missed her.

As you sat tears started to well in your eyes, you discarded your sunglasses tossing them onto the table and rubbed at your eyes. Just then the door rang with a gentle knock. “Y/n?” A small voice asked as the door cracked open. Lifting your head from your hand a small smile graced your face. “Enid, hi.” You said standing, walking over to her with open arms. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come up here.” She said coming into your embrace. “Yeah well I had to some time.” You said. “I missed you.” She huffed into your chest. “I missed you to little lycan.” You said pulling back with wet eyes and a sniff. “Heeyyy, I love the hair.” You said groggily playing with the pink and blue tips. “Thanks.” She said sadly.

A moment went by when she spoke again. “I miss her too.” She said looking around the room. “Yeah.” You mumbled. A noise emanated through the door, you looked at Enid quizzically. “Um that’s Wednesday.” She said spinning on the spot and going to open the door, the girl really was like a storm cloud, literally black and white, just like how Larissa had explained. “Hello Wednesday.” You greeted. She peered at you unblinking until she looked you up and down. You extended a hand for her to shake and hesitantly she did so. “Y/n Weems, I’m Larissa’s niece.” You explained. “She told me a lot about you… don’t worry I don’t bite.” You said looking at Enid. “Well biting isn’t really a worry for you I suppose is it.” You said trying to ease the awkwardness. The look on Enid’s face was priceless, completely red. Wednesday on the other hand her scowl dropped immediately. “Hey that’s what happens when your added to this one’s close friends story on instagram.” You said giggling.

“You look like her.” Wednesday spoke, most likely her way of a shot at a compliment. “Thanks.” You said. “Ok wens we should go now.” Enid said dragging Wednesday behind her. “Horrified to meet you Wednesday.” You said, she peered over her shoulder and smirked, that gave you hope in possibly being on her good side. The door closes behind them and you paced to the middle of the room. ‘Guess I should consolidate with the staff.’ You thought with a sigh. “You will be fine, I know you don’t like talking to people but I’ll be right there the whole time, just waiting in the car.” She said. “I’m so nervous.” You expressed fixing your necklace in the mirror. “I know but you will feel so happy and relieved when you’re done.” She said standing behind you giving a squeeze to your shoulders. “What if they say they don’t want me as an employee?” You asked. “They would be silly not to consider you.” She said guiding you towards the door. In the end you got your first job at the mayor’s office as the receptionist, all thanks to the encouragement of her.

A while later finally finished meeting and greeting a few of the staff to let them know you will be staying for the week, all of them looked at you sympathetically as if they felt sorry for you, but you knew even when Larissa didn’t express it, that not one of them knew her or even cared enough try take some of the schools stress off her. You saw how it would take a toll, how tired she would be but never gave up and she never gave up on you. “Try again.” She nodded. You shifted for the second time and became the spitting image of your father. “Oh dear-.” She laughed, you cackled at the situation. “Out of everyone to pick.” She continued to laugh. “Ok your turn auntie lissa.” Your 15 year old self said shifting back to yourself and perching on her bed.

You hadn’t bothered to go backdown to the car and bring up your bags yet, when you return into the office you go straight to her quarters door. That damn door, how a piece of wood can be so imposing is beyond you, although once the door is unlocked and the hinges creak open you may never walk back out. You slid the key into the hole and twisted until it unlocked, you lent up against the architrave and observed the room, again everything in its place. Pacing inside you went and flopped on her bed, toeing off your heels and kicking them off the mattress, you snatched one of her pillows and hold it to yourself curling your legs up towards your stomach.

For the next hour you laid in the same position hugging onto the pillow like a life line, her sent still remaining. Pachouli, bergamot, vanilla and almost the faint smell of English breakfast tea. You scrolled through the photos in your phone’s gallery, seeing the ones from when you were born and an early twenties Larissa holding you, looking down at you as if her whole world just lit up. The timeline continued on all the way up to your early graduation from college, with Larissa holding onto your waist and you with an arm slung around her shoulders. You turn off your phone and break down sobbing into the pillow.

———

Two days have passed and all you had done is go through Larissa’s photos, clothes, trinkets and make up. You would take one piece of jewellery and wear it during the day just to feel a little bit closer to her, then when night came you would place it back in the exact spot you had taken it from. Nothing was boxed or packed, you couldn’t find it within you to place her things in a crammed space and send them home, this is what she has to show for her life and packing it away didn’t feel like an option.

Over the next two days you hung out with Wednesday and Enid, taking them into town, going to the weathervane, or just for a drive. You never really noticed how much you missed nevermore until now, unless perhaps it wasn’t the school that you truly missed, the memories are bittersweet, only now do they feel tarnished and painful, nevertheless it’s nice to know that you have a home a true home that comes with a chosen family, on the outings with the girls you were mistaken for being Enid’s older sister, to which you’d correct, though the mistake can be made since she’s 16 and you 23, only 7 years apart.

Returning back to school grounds you opted for a walk down to the lake, it felt like just yesterday you had won the Poe cup, having Larissa cheer you on from the side lines. You remember that even before you celebrated with your team you ran straight to her and embraced her with a joyful scream. It was nearing dawn and you decided to go back to your- her room, where you could use sleep as a procrastination.

“Larissa I’m an adult I can do anything I want!” You yelled. “Yes daring I know that but-.” She began. “No! Stop trying to keep me here, I want to go and experience things myself, I will not be rooted in one place like you, I actually need a life!” You exclaimed. Larissa straightened up and cleared her face of hurt emotions, turning into a stern look. “Fine.” She said. Your stomach churned. How disappointed she is. However you stuck it out and left, but before you could reach the door Larissa stopped you and wrapped her arms around your neck and breathed an I love you, one you didn’t return.

You sat up straight in bed gasping as the memory fades from your eyes, you look around to see the dimly lit room still and quiet through watery vision. “I’m sorry.” You whispered into the room. “I’m so so sorry… I love you too, I love you so much.” You said with your voice breaking and your throat sore. It displayed 3:02am on the clock resting on the bedside, you dragged yourself up and out of the tangled sheets to make a tea for yourself wrapping a blanket over your shoulders and back to keep warm.

With the beverage in hand you sat on the floor leaning against the end of the bed in front of the fire place, you were exhausted, the loop of the memory on repeat making every run through more painful. It was true the whole thing was real, you had been irrationally irritable that day, when you visited Larissa to tell her you were thinking of travelling alone across the world, the worst part was that Larissa was the one who actually encouraged you to travel and explore but to be careful and safe and yet you threw her support and generosity and care back in her face as if she were a monster.

It only took 2 weeks until you were back in contact with one another, Larissa was relieved to know you were ok and you were relieved she forgave you as well as listened to every ‘I’m sorry’ you had to offer. Turns out going back to London to pack and prepare without her wasn’t fun or adventurous at all, if you were to do something, anything, you wanted to share the experience with her, because Larissa wasn’t just your aunt, no, she was practically your mother, roll model and your best friend. That was the last time you visibly saw her, two whole years ago, you would do anything to go back and wrap yourself around her frame and never let her go.

With the tea finished and cup discarded, you went back to bed in hopes of a restful sleep, but of course you weren’t that lucky. The next morning you felt tired and drained in every way, you spent the day walking the grounds, visiting Ophelia hall to see Wednesday and Enid, and finally ending the day with sitting on the floor of Larissa’s walk in closet to flip through the box she kept her year book, newspaper clippings and sentimental things, but it wasn’t just hers it was your things to, the nevermore newspaper from 6 years ago when you had been early excepted into a prestigious university, the hair clips she would put in your hair every time she came to visit when you were little, Polaroids from over the years and dated notes from significant days in the past.

“Y/n, are you ok sweetheart?” She asked looking up at you from her arm chair in the corner of her room. “Yeah…” you said quietly, looking down. “I wanna tell you something.” You murmured. Larissa slotted the bookmark in between the pages of her book and gave you her undivided attention, you pulled out a piece of paper and gave it to her to unfold. “I can’t say it.” You said pacing about the room. You could hear her unfolding the paper and the silence that followed, but a giggle interrupted the raging thoughts in your mind. “Oh darling… that’s ok, that’s wonderful, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me such a thing. Come here.” She said, you turned and walked to her with your head down, as you sat lightly on her lap snuggled into her chest and tightly wrapped arms, she spoke again. “I love you no matter who or what you love, if you’re interested in girls or boys, vampires or werewolves I don’t mind……. can I tell you a secret?” She asked. “Yeah.” Larissa inhaled and slowly exhaled before she whispered in your ear. “Really?!” You said sitting upright. “Mhmm.” She smiled. “Oh, I was wondering why you didn’t like that nice man we spoke to at the grocery store the other day.” You said, in response Larissa laughed.

11/5/2019- y/n came out to me!

You traced her cursive handwriting at the bottom of the note you handed to her that day with a smile and placed it back in the box as well as putting the lid back on. Standing back up and turning the light off, you had a strange feeling that something wasn’t right, but ignored it. You grabbed the blanket from the bed and threw it over yourself going towards the office to turn off the lamps and stoke the fire before a knock on the door was heard. Walking over to it you opened the door to be met with one of the staff holding a few papers.

“Evening y/n, these were dropped off this afternoon, I thought I should bring them to you… sorry it’s late and I interrupted.” She said holding out the stack. “No it’s ok Melanie, I appreciate that thank you.” You said taking papers. “You have a relaxing night.” She said turning on her heels to leave. “You too.” You said closing the door. Wonderful, just what you wanted, letters with principal applicants, schedules of new school developments, an obituary form and a mediocre memorial service for Larissa. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You said. Somehow you internally corrected yourself with the word ‘language’ as if you could hear the statement about to come from her.

Another knock, you rolled your eyes. “Come in.” Nothing but a stretch of silence. “Melanie, if you forgot to tell me something you can come in.” You said walking back to the door. Nothing could have prepared you for what lye behind it, you opened the door and the wind was knocked from you lungs. No. This isn’t real. “Wow, I’m going insane.” You said peering into those bright cerulean eyes, dropping the blanket from your shoulders. When her hand extended to cup your cheek, almost immediately tears ran down your cheeks. “You’re not real.” You breathe. She stepped closer to run her other hand over your hair. You could feel her. You could see her. You could smell her.

You stood still as if you could blink to hard and she’d be gone. “Hello my darling girl.” She said with a smile. As brief as it may be and as much as you didn’t want to you rubbed your eyes knowing she will be gone in a moment trying to flea from this torment…and yet her grip stayed prominent, her smell still lingers and her form remained. You were in pure shock, you brought your shaking hands to her face to trace at it just to be sure. She was there, she was here, she was home and she was finally back exactly where she’s supposed to be, with you.

“I have a lot to explain, but firstly…” she began. “I love you.”

@sabraaabra

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #larissa weems x y/n #wednesday #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader

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