#but by when they dated Ramona | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkmirth · 1 year

Text

KEEPER!

SYNOPSIS! ⸻ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

CONTAINS⸻ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

4K notes · View notes

sugrhigh · 2 months

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 8 - ( c.s )

part seven

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- ANGST! it’s just fluff and angst get ready baby

a/n: hellllooooooooo sorry everything takes me fucking forever to write but i am once again back hehe i truly hope you enjoy

despite what many people might think, chris has never been on a proper date in his life. and it’s silly to admit, considering he’s hung out with women in so so many different contexts, but it’s never been formal like that.

he swears he’s never even said the word out loud, as if he was scared of getting infected with real feelings, scared of things getting too serious. so he vowed there would be no flowers, no fancy dinners, no romance. just pure physical connections.

and it stayed that way for so long that he figured it would never change. he’d be a bachelor forever, hopping from girl to girl, showing them no more vulnerability than a simple smile.

then he met you, got to know you, and that mindset disappeared. the fear of being blindsided is still there, nestled somewhere deep in the trenches of his heart.

but to him, you’re worth the potential heartbreak.

so when he shows up at your doorstep with a bouquet of tulips saturday afternoon, it’s a bit of a surprise for the both of you, though not an unwelcome one.

“there’s my pretty girl.” chris smiles, trying desperately to play off his nerves.

my pretty girl. the words ring through your head like a church bell, and even though it’s embarrassing, you’re unable to stop beaming at him.

“what are you doing here?” you ask curiously as he hands the flowers over.

he swallows thickly, shoving his now-freed hands in his pockets. “i wanted to ask you out. on, like, a real date.”

for a moment you think you’ve heard him wrong, or that this must be some kind of prank. in what world would chris sturniolo, infamous playboy, be throwing in the towel and dating? let alone dating you?

but his face remains eerily serious. you can tell he’s a little anxious by the way he’s shuffling his feet, which is endearing. you’re not sure he’s ever done this before, and yet it's the sweetest gesture.

you’re pleasantly shocked by the happiness that’s washing over your body, and as much as you don’t want to give into it, it’s almost impossible not to.

“i think i can definitely squeeze that into my calendar.” you grin.

he visibly relaxes, chuckling slightly at your response as he shakes his head. “next time i’ll schedule it with your secretary.”

the fact that he said next time almost makes you freeze, but you play it off without skipping a beat. your heart is doing backflips, so you clutch the flowers and try to contain it.

“you know the drill, i’m a busy woman.” you shrug playfully.

“be ready by seven?” it’s a question more than a request, because he’s not fully confident that you actually are free.

“yeah,” you nod, stepping closer to give him a kiss of reassurance, “i’ll see you then.”

even feeling your lips on his for a second drives chris absolutely crazy. but there’s plenty of time for that later. right now he’s the perfect gentleman, the guy you deserve.

“oh my god, is it seven already?” ramona checks her watch from the couch, completely in a daze.

she's been religiously rewatching her favorite show, swearing that it inspires her to work on the project she’s been procrastinating. you know she’s too invested for that to be true, but you can’t blame her.

“it’s time indeed.” you nod, slipping your feet into your knee highs.

“oh my gosh, you look so good!” she gushes, popping up from her spot to come wrap you in a hug.

mona barely gives you time to fully zip up your shoes, and you both almost go toppling. you can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, straightening up so you can hold her back.

“jesus, you could’ve given me one more second.” you tease as you pull away.

“sorry, cuteness aggression. i think i’m just too excited for you.” she apologizes, even though she knows you’re not actually angry.

“i’m happy you approve.”

it’s the truth; having both of your roommates’ support means the world to you. especially since you’re falling for him, which is terrifying on its own.

you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this serious about a guy, but it feels so good.

ramona smiles right as the doorbell rings, and you hear cassidy come bounding down the stairs. she looks bewildered, definitely startled awake from her nap, and you can’t help but laugh.

“he’s here! and damn, you look sexy bitch.” she says, joining the two of you by the living room.

you smile as she pushes you forward slightly, shaking your head. “you guys are embarrassing me.”

“payback for the millions of times you’ve done it to us.” cass snaps back playfully.

ramona rolls her eyes, waving you to continue to the door as she tugs her counterpart into the kitchen. “no fighting, go have fun! we love you!”

you let out a breath, squaring your shoulders and raising your chin as you step toward the door. you’re more nervous than you expected to be, but when you pull open the door it’s like you immediately relax.

seeing chris dressed up in a quarter zip and those ripped jeans you adore on him makes your heart swell. the easy-going expression on his face calms your anxiety almost instantly.

you see his own eyes travel down to your exposed legs, covered only by your favorite little black skirt. your off-the-shoulder long sleeve is hidden slightly by your leather jacket, bold makeup accentuating your features.

he feels like he’s suffocating, seeing you look this good knowing it’s all for him. that you’re almost his. he wants to taste you, to ruin your lipgloss just to feel you on his mouth.

“you look…unreal.” he breathes, offering you his hand as you step out to join him on the front step.

“you look pretty great too.” you admit sheepishly, and he gives you a gentle kiss because he can’t help it.

you chuckle under your breath as he pulls away, wiping the gloss from his mouth with your thumb gently. chris just smiles, kissing the pad of your finger briefly before tangling his hand in yours.

“come on, we can’t be late to our first official dinner reservation.” chris urges as he leads you to his car.

he’s embarrassingly giddy as he holds the passenger door open, and you hop inside happily. it’s become one of your favorite spots, riding around next to him with his hand on your thigh.

tonight is no different. his thumb brushes against your skin reassuringly as you hum under your breath, watching chris drive out of the corner of your eye.

he’s just so handsome, especially right now. you’ve always known that, but it’s different. you care about him so much that just looking at his face kind of makes your day, as horrifyingly honest as that is.

you can’t help but smile to yourself, and he pulls into the parking lot of a fancy little restaurant a few moments later.

“i’ve always wanted to try this place, you know. i just never had the right occasion.” you admit as chris helps you back out of the car.

he laughs slightly, hand snaking its way to your waist after he closes the door behind you. “i haven’t either, but you’re the only worthy occasion i can imagine.”

you feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “stop flattering me, i know you just want to get lucky after we’re done.”

“i want a lot more than that, sweetheart.” chris replies truthfully, kind of enjoying letting his mouth run. he’s held his feelings in so much lately that it’s nice to just be honest.

meanwhile you’re desperately trying not to read into his words too much, but at this point it’s hard not to. it seems like he truly does like you, and for the first time in your life you might actually see a future with someone.

once you’re inside, the hostess guides you to a nice booth in the corner, smiling sweetly at chris as she leaves. it doesn’t matter; he’s got his hand in yours, and he’s not looking at anyone besides you as you sit down.

“quit staring at me like that.” you tease, even though you’re only half-joking.

chris tilts his head to the side, smirking at you like he can read your mind. “why, does it make you nervous?”

“no.” you lie, and he just shakes his head like he doesn’t believe you.

your waiter saves you a moment later and you order your drinks; a beer for him and a margarita for you. by the time they’re on the table, you and chris are already deep in your usual random conversation.

it’s impossible to stop looking into his eyes as you chat, your foot bumping against his as you both lean forward towards each other. his fingers dance across the top of your hand, simply because he’s unable to go more than a minute without physical contact, especially when you look so gorgeous.

you’re halfway through the actual meal when you’re finally forced to excuse yourself and use the bathroom, even though you don’t want to leave for even a minute.

“don’t miss me too much.” you joke, sliding out of your side of the booth to give him a quick kiss.

“you know i will.” he smiles as you pull away, watching you head toward the restroom with hearts in his eyes.

looking at yourself in the mirror once you’re done only confirms what you already knew; you’re having the best first date ever. your reflection smiles at you as you wash your hands, so wrapped up in your own head that you barely notice the girl who comes up beside you until she clears her throat.

startled, you glance her direction, only to find that she’s already staring right at you. your stomach bottoms out as your body fills with dread for a reason you’re not yet sure of.

“uh…can i help you?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.

she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder, cat-like eyes narrowing just a bit. “so, you’re chris’s little plaything, huh?”

you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simply won’t go away. “that depends on who’s asking.”

the girl scoffs, turning away from you just a bit so that she can reapply her lipstick in the mirror. “the girl who fucked him three weeks ago when you walked out, that’s who’s asking.”

the acidic taste of bile fills your mouth, and you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up. your ears ring and the world shrinks, like there’s no air left to breathe.

how the fuck does she even know that? did he talk to her about you? your mind is spiraling out of control, thinking about every single aspect of that fateful morning.

you see her smile sharply at your reaction, satisfied that she’s caught you off guard. it’s impossible to compose yourself, though, because everything is coming crashing down.

“c’mon babe, you thought he really liked you? he didn’t even wait twenty-four hours to get on top of me.”

“he wouldn’t.” you whisper, even though you know that’s not the truth.

this time she actually barks out a laugh, tossing her tube of lipstick back in her bag before turning to face you once more. it doesn’t help that she’s undeniably gorgeous, exactly his type.

“he would, and he did. but if you don’t believe me, just ask him. mention the name daniela and you’ll see for yourself.” she says, fixing her hair one more time before stepping around you to get to the door.

you hear it slam behind her, still rooted in the same place, unable to move. you don’t want to believe it, but she was speaking with such certainty that you’re already convinced.

tears sting your eyes like salt in the wound. your face is no longer filled with the cheerfulness it possessed a few moments ago; now you just look crestfallen. but you won’t give in to your emotions yet, not without confirmation.

you don’t want to face chris, but you know you have to. so you send your roommates an SOS text to ensure you have a ride home, and then you steel yourself to go back.

you have no idea where daniela went, but it doesn’t matter because you don’t look anywhere but straight ahead as you walk. your whole body is tingling, entirely on the verge of breaking down as you find your way to the table.

not yet, not yet, not yet.

the second his face lights up at your return, you want to crumble. he looks so sweet, the boy you thought had finally changed for you. but then he notes your tight expression, and a frown replaces the grin.

you don’t sit down. you just blink at him for a second, trying to force the words out. you’re silent until he opens his mouth to speak, which finally empowers you enough to cut him off.

“tell me about daniela.”

he straightens uncomfortably at the mention of her name, which already gives you your answer. your heart twists, so much so that it physically hurts inside your chest.

“what?” chris responds, staring at you dumbly.

“did you or did you not sleep with a girl named daniela a day after me?” you ask as calmly as possible, ignoring the fact that your fingernails are digging into the skin of your palm.

his face somehow contorts to look even more grim, and you shake your head slowly. a smile of disbelief makes its way across your lips, which you suppose is better than sobbing.

“yeah, i’m done here.” you snap, yanking your jacket and purse up before turning on your heel.

“please—” his hand circles your wrist and you yank it away without a second thought, not caring if anyone sees.

you just keep walking. everything is completely numb at this point. it doesn’t even feel like you’re in your own body, you’re just moving. the fresh air hits you as you step outside and you inhale the cold, letting it shock you awake a bit.

you unravel your jacket from your arms and put it on as you book it through the parking lot, only to realize that you’re shaking.

the double doors burst open behind you, and you hear him shouting your name, but you still don’t stop. his heavy footsteps increase in pace, and you make it to the sidewalk just outside the restaurant when he finally catches up.

“please, just give me the chance to explain.” chris begs, once again reaching for your hand to try and slow you down.

you stop, only to shove him away from you with a surprising burst of power. he let’s go, but he’s still looking at you desperately as if it’s not black and white.

“there’s nothing to explain. in fact, this is exactly why i fucking hated you so much to begin with, why i was so hesitant to let myself believe that you could actually feel something for anyone besides yourself. you made me look like an idiot, thinking that you’d changed at all.” you lash out, unable to control the rage spilling out of your mouth.

he winces, visibly hurt from your words, but he powers through anyways. “i immediately knew i made a huge mistake, and even though i did it thinking it would make me feel better, it made everything worse. when you left that morning i thought it was over for me, and it hurt in a way that i’ve never felt before because i really fucking care about you.”

you snort, crossing your arms over you chest defensively. “yeah, well, you’re doing a fabulous job at showing it. i mean seriously, chris, do you know how fucking horrible that was? to find out from the girl herself because you couldn’t be bothered to at least be honest? and now you expect me to believe anything you say when in reality your words mean shit.”

chris feels you slipping from his fingers, so quickly that he doesn’t know how to stop it, or how to get you to trust what he’s saying. it’s a type of distress that he’s never been through before, because he’s never gotten attached.

“i know i fucked up, and i know i should’ve never even responded to her in the first place. i don’t have the right to ask you to trust me, but i need you to know that it didn’t mean anything to me.” he pleads, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice now.

you feel your eyes burning again as you meet his gaze, and you’re not sure if it’s hurt or frustration making you cry.

“it means something to me. i put my faith in you enough to go all the way, to let my guard down this past month and admit to myself that i do have feelings for you. and now i look just as stupid as everyone told me i would, even though i really did trust you so much. i thought things were different, that you wouldn’t dare do that to me.” you’re choking on your tears as you speak, and all he wants to do is reach out and wipe them away but he can’t.

you take a step back, almost instinctively. “but you did, and now it’s over.”

chris feels his whole world stop for a second. he takes in every inch of your heartbroken face; eyes wide and red, tears streaking down your cheeks as you hold yourself in your own arms.

he hates himself so much, more than he ever has in his life, for destroying things with the only person that matters. especially on a night that was supposed to be so special.

“i’m begging you not to do this. i’m so, so sorry that i ruined your confidence in me, but it’s only ever been you. you live in my thoughts, in my dreams, in every single goddamn place i go. and it took me way too long to say it, but i want to be with you so badly that it kills me. you know this is real, and i will do anything to prove it to you.” he takes a step closer, but you move away and put your hand up as a warning.

it’s everything you’ve been wanting him to tell you, but it’s too late. you don’t know how to forgive him yet, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to forget.

“i can’t, chris. i just…i don’t know anymore.” you sound so defeated, but you don’t care.

by the grace of god, your friends pull up at the exact right moment to save you. cass throws her hazards on and stops the car, glaring bullets at him through the glass as she waits for you to get in.

you’re done talking for now, and chris recognizes that. there’s nothing he can do or say to take it back, and as much as he wants to keep trying, it’ll only push you even further. so he nods his head once solemnly, vision beginning to blur as he takes all of you in one last time.

you’re the girl of his dreams, and he’s absolutely fucked it.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he repeats as you pile into the backseat, unable to conjure up any words besides those ones.

it registers in your head, but you don’t respond. you can’t even look at him anymore, because it’s too hard to think about what could have been. so you close the door hard, determined to shut him out of your life for good this time.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #fanfic #hockey!chris #hockey!au

385 notes · View notes