#we had such a blast telling it <3< /div>
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bastardpresents · 8 months ago
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Episode One out May 16th 2024!
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c0smiccom3t · 5 months ago
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So..... regarding those news about Nicholas Kole's crash 5.....
I'm going to explode.
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skeletalheartattack · 2 years ago
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which 3d mario is your favourite to control?
real life mario. i take the controller out and i find him in the wild and i make him run and ground pound poles for free money coins. though sadly sometimes mario has to sleep. it's like sleeping but for mario. the mario council doesn't like the ethics of controlling mario but he says "waho" and "yippy" when i press the buttons so i think they're wrong.
#ask#anon#if you cant find a mario. dont worry.#you know mario odyssey? yeah you can control telephone pole. you can control frog. yeah cool#you can control things with controllers. they wouldnt call it that if it couldnt#mario dreams of spagegi. sometimes ravoli. sometimes even mama mima.#dont wake him up too early or he'll experience Super Mario Blood Rage#anyway to truthfully answer? i havent played a lot of 3D mario platformers outside of 64 and Sunshine#like i played a lot of 64 and Sunshine growing up#i played galaxy but it was only a rental. so i had to return him to the store. so sad :(#i have galaxy 2 but. something about 2 doesnt match up to galaxy 1 in my mind and i dont know why that is.#like with some games i can tell you what i dont like about their sequels.#sly cooper 2? really enjoyable but i missed the purely platforming aspect of 1#DBZ Budokai (any game after 1)? no cool ass cutscenes and no Zarbon 🙄#like i know Budokai 3 has the better combat but. i dont really play a lot fighting games#so Budokai 1's simple kick-punch-ki blast is enjoyable for me#plus the story mode and Zarbon is what makes it for me for DBZ Budokai.#but yeah mario galaxy 2? couldnt tell you what makes it weird to me compared to 1.#i think the controls across most 3D marios are good. cant pinpoint one i find the most Fun to Control#now if we said platformers in general? hard to say since id need to refresh my hands memory on how some play#i dont have a working copy of Sly Cooper 1. or atleast one that isnt incredibly scratched to hell.#but if i had to guess. sly cooper 1 would be really high up.#jak & daxter 1 had some nice movement the last i played it. i 100%'d it but was kinda sad there was barely a reward for doing so#anyway im sorry this doesnt really answer your question anon. one day i'll be able to have a proper answer#thank you for the ask anon!!
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pyropelove413 · 1 year ago
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A good bday day 💛
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finniestoncrane · 9 months ago
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Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin���… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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mercy-burning · 2 months ago
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…I Wonder
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes a full-time nanny to three-year-old Benjamin, but what she doesn’t realize is just how hard the job will be— not because of the child, but rather her growing attraction to his father. Category: Mature (18+) Content: adults with age gap, drinking, dry humping, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, “little girl” nickname, cum play, praise Word Count: 11k (idk how this keeps happening lol)
MASTERLIST
NOTE: This fic is titled after and loosely inspired by "Pony" by Ashley Monroe. It's not required listening, but obviously I recommend the song. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a teenager obsessed with Dean Winchester, so... that probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am... LMAO anyway, enjoy <3 I had a blast writing this one!!
———
ACT I: If I Had A Baby...
The first job I ever had also happened to be the best job I ever had. I was twenty years old, and I found an ad in the paper searching for a full-time nanny to a little boy. I didn't think anything of it, other than I desperately needed the money and I didn't mind babysitting. A few years out of school with no plans to attend college and no solid idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't sure if I'd even get hired. I was almost certain that no one would want a college-aged kid with no stable ambitions or previous job experience, but I was desperate. And CPR-certified.
It was a start. A shot in the dark.
By some miracle, Spencer Reid apparently was also desperate enough to be willing to take a chance on me.
He explained over the phone that he was away more than he'd like to be, and even if he tried to work from home, doing FBI work and raising a toddler alone at the same time was nearly impossible. I agreed to an interview, absolutely elated that I had a foot in the door and the bright beacon of hope for some sort of routine. Something to occupy my time and something to care about, to care for.
I was expecting the work to be... not hard, necessarily, but I wasn't naive enough to believe that taking care of a child was a walk in the park. There would surely be tantrums or bouts of "I miss Daddy!" or refusal to eat what I made him for lunch... I knew going into these interviews that I would be signing up for a major responsibility that meant a lot, not only to Spencer but also to his child. I had to prove that I could do my job and do it well. That alone was a challenge, but one I was willing to work with. I was ready for it.
What I wasn't ready for, however, was the betrayal I felt when my brain failed to warn me of the possibility that he was not only a single father, but a hot one.
The second I showed up at his door and he opened the barrier between us, I swear it felt like the sun swallowed me whole and burnt me to a crisp. He smiled brightly and introduced himself, and I was done for.
"You must be Y/N! Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid."
Doctor? So he was smart, then, too. Perfect. The Trifecta of Peak Hotness had been achieved. That instantly made this new job ten-times harder than I anticipated, and I hadn't even started yet.
I wasn't sure I could go through with it at first, but the more we talked, the more I relaxed, and I felt sympathy for him. He was a genuinely kind and loving parent who wanted the best for his son, a three-year-old named Benjamin who loved dinosaurs and airplanes and Cheeto Puffs. I didn't get to meet him that day, since he was with his Aunt JJ (who, the way Spencer told it, was most likely feeding his Cheeto Puff addiction as we spoke), but if the interview went well, I'd get to meet him in the next week.
I mulled over my options and almost decided not to show up for the next interview; to call and tell him I'd changed my mind or something, but it pained me to even imagine the disappointment in his voice had he asked me why. For whatever reason, the vivid image of a toddler pouting and crying to his father because he had to leave, and that no one wanted to care for him burned itself into my soul until I relented and just took the job anyway.
It was fair to at least meet the kid first, right?
Benny was insanely talkative— but not really conversational. Most of the time I tried to keep up, but his mouth was moving a mile a minute, and the conversation always ended up falling flat on my end, so I pretty quickly decided to give up and enthusiastically let him carry it.
He had his father's brains as well. For hours that first meeting, he sat there and read me passages of aircraft encyclopedias, and in between two random sections I politely requested that we move on to dinosaurs (which were infinitely cooler). And then, in that adorable toddler voice that made it impossible to be irritated, he looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I read all my dinosaur books last week. This week is for airplanes."
Spencer looked like he was going to divert the conversation entirely, perhaps suggest that Benny do something else while we talked some more, but who was I to interrupt the kid's routine and crush his dreams? If I was going to be his nanny, then I was going to have to make him like me. Right?
So, I nodded like I'd never considered it and encouraged him to keep going. To which he did, very happily.
Spencer seemed happy, too. He was always delighted to see Benny when he came home from work, but there was something about the way he relaxed and perked up all the same at my first interactions with his son that twisted my gut. What that man was filled with at the sight of me wasn't just joy, but hope, too, and regardless of where that joy and hope came from, it was an incredibly dangerous thing to notice as a young woman.
It was way too easy to fall into daydream territory. I was alert and attentive when watching Benny, of course, but the second Spencer walked in and completely knocked the wind out of me with that joy and relief radiating from his perfect smile, it was like a screw came loose in my brain and turned me into a feral, horny beast. And then I would return home, alone with my thoughts, and I couldn't divert them from the wild direction they took.
At first it was just your standard wet dream, a girl lusting over the older man she nannied for. It was purely pornographic and provided nothing but short-term relief until I saw him in person again, which frustrated me.
I almost thought about quitting, or saying I was looking into schooling so I could cut down on my hours, but...
That wasn't fair to Benny. He and I had actually formed a pretty stellar routine, if I do say so myself.
And every time I thought about leaving, I couldn't help but think about what I would tell him. Would I even tell him anything at all, or would Spencer just omit me from his life completely and give him an explanation in my place? Who would watch over him after I left? Someone old and mean who made him eat vegetables instead of Cheeto Puffs, and demanded he read to them about dinosaurs instead of airplanes, not giving him the option to develop his curiosity in whatever way he chose? Who would tuck him into bed on the nights his father was late or out of town, and would they sleep on the couch soundly and happily like I did?
I hated even thinking about it.
And then there was the first paycheck.
Truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the money, not after I met the boys and introduced them into my daily routine. I remembered Spencer telling me after my first day alone with Benny that he wouldn't get a paycheck to me until the start of the next month, and I was okay with it. Really, I was just focusing on trying not to drool for the entire conversation, but I digress.
Payment completely slipped my mind.
And then I showed up to do my job, and Benny was nowhere in sight.
"Where's the little guy?" I inquired, looking around and hearing nothing either. "He's usually waiting at the door for me like a dog."
Spencer laughed and concealed something behind his back. "He does really enjoy his nights with you... He's actually staying with JJ and her kids tonight, though. Our schedules opened up and she offered to take him for the night. I was going to call and tell you, but I wanted to give you this, anyway."
He handed me an envelope, folded over but not sealed. I took it with an, "Oh," unsure of what it was until I saw the corner of the check. It felt rude somehow to open it in front of him, but his presence was so overwhelming anyway, especially being alone with him, that I needed something to occupy my hands and my thoughts and just about everything else I had in my possession.
At first, I thought it was a joke. A prank. It was too good to be true; He was just messing with me and would hand me a fifty-dollar bill on my way out for my trouble. Surely, if not that, then it was a mistake.
I didn't know how long I'd stood there, staring at the paper with whatever expression was all over my face, but it must have been too long and too concerning because Spencer sounded worried when he asked, "Is there something wrong?"
I blinked for a moment, then finally had the courage to look him in the eye, my mouth completely dry. "You are not giving me five-thousand dollars right now."
"Well... No, technically, I'm giving you a check for five-thousand dollars. What you do with it and when is completely up to you, but... You deserve it. Y/N, you've been a Godsend, and Benny and I are lucky to have you around. Thank you. Very much."
I didn't even think about it. It was an insanely kind gesture, and I was in such a state of shock and gratitude and mind-numbing attraction to him in that moment that I leapt forward and flung my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.
He hugged me back tightly and laughed, allowing me to cry my thanks into his shoulder as we nearly tumbled into the coffee table.
ACT II: If I Was A Lady...
The months flew by, and before I knew it, it was Benny's fourth birthday.
Spencer and his friends heavily involved me in the planning process, a gesture that surprised me, but that I obviously would never be thankful enough for. It's not like I hadn't ever known a loving family or anything, but they were all so warm and welcoming; it was like I'd been friends with them my whole life. My chest bloomed brightly with every laugh and every hug, and I don't think I could have been any happier. I felt like I belonged there.
It was a day, and night, I would never forget.
Everyone had left, and Benny was fast asleep in his bed. Spencer and I looked down at him with smiles so bright, if they'd actually radiated any light the poor boy would have woken up.
"Ah, the cake coma," I laughed quietly, Spencer guiding me out of the bedroom. I couldn't stop giggling even as we walked—Admittedly, I was a little buzzed on champagne. Still, Spencer laughed with me, and we sat down on the couch. I could tell he was exhausted, but happy.
"I still have to clean all of this up..." It was more of an amused I'll-do-it-tomorrow statement, but I had this drunken simmering need to please him so badly that I shook my head and hit his arm.
"No. That's my job. I'll take care of it, you just take your beautiful ass right to bed, you hear me?"
He raised an eyebrow but laughed at me anyway, clearly amused by my banter. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed the underage drinking after all..."
"Oh, please. I'm not even drunk, just a little loose. Besides, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of months anyway."
"Mmmm."
I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten until just then, when he hummed and looked me over. I could feel his breath on my face, and our limbs were just barely touching. Suddenly it was like my entire body was numb, sizzling everywhere we touched, and the champagne had become a part of my bloodstream. The fizz was all I knew, all I was.
Spencer's eyes found mine, and they didn't look away. They pulled me in slowly. I was powerless to stop it, not that I'd ever want to...
In fact, I very eagerly melted into him the second our lips found each other. My head swam, my fingers started tingling, and I was very aware of every movement we made. I straddled his lap, and he welcomed me with open arms, pulling me flush against him as his tongue darted out swiftly to taste mine.
I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Every few seconds I kept thinking to myself, this feels like a dream... It has to be a dream... Between the pent-up attraction I'd been accumulating for him over the last few months and the alcohol that loosened me up and dissolved any ounce of common sense I possessed, I felt like I was in a different world entirely.
He hardened underneath me and my nerves went nuclear, instinctively forcing my body to roll over his. I ground my hips, aching to feel that sweet friction that I'd only felt once before with another man— so long ago and so unbelievably dull in comparison to the sensations I was feeling in Spencer's lap. I was only barely experienced with sex, but I was experienced enough to know that I didn't have anything to be nervous about; This man would take good care of me. I felt it in my bones.
The thought alone sent my body into overdrive. I whined and rolled my hips relentlessly, wishing I was completely bare and feeling him so deep inside me that his absence would leave me haunted. I wanted to feel him forever. I wanted him to ruin my life and claim me as his own, until there was absolutely nothing left of me.
His hands cradled my head reverently as he continued to kiss me deep and slow, raising his hips up to meet mine and aid in getting me off. The gentle tugs of his fingers through my hair and the warm hums of encouragement he offered to my mouth as I climbed higher and higher towards that precipice of pleasure made me weak. I felt so fragile in his arms, like I was meant to be right there, allowing him to guide me wherever. I would have done anything for him, anything so long as he kept holding me and making me sigh—making me glow.
"Fuck—I'm gonna come," I exclaimed in a broken whisper, breaking apart from his mouth to bury my face in his hair. He brought his hands down to my hips then, groaning as quietly as he could into my neck as he helped me rock back and forth across his lap.
It wasn't an earth-shattering intense orgasm by any means; there wasn't nearly enough stimulation for that. But I was so wet and aroused that even the low, quick and burning pleasure that shot through my core for a few seconds was enough to satisfy me. I wasn't in any position to complain.
That was, of course, until I reached down to touch Spencer's belt, and he pushed me away. Not aggressively, but his hands—which had been so gentle and welcoming just moments before—had gone rigid. Frozen and firm, like he'd just been scared half to death.
He scrambled out from my reach and put so much distance between us that I went cold. My name tumbled from his lips in a regretful sigh, and it stung.
"We can't ever do that again."
"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was still tingling all over, like my whole body had fallen numb and was now just warming up to the idea of having senses again.
"That was irresponsible. And I'm too old for you."
"M-hm," I agreed absentmindedly.
"You should go home."
"Okay."
"I'll call you a cab."
"Thank you."
I went home that night with a deep twist in my gut that wouldn't go away. The rejection hurt. It scared me, too, wondering if I'd still have a job when I woke up in the morning. Was that the last time I would ever see Spencer? And Benny? Had I really just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?
I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on Spencer's couch, getting myself off in his lap and reveling in his embrace. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, hating myself for being so reckless, and even more so for not regretting it a single bit.
After I was finally able to get a solid couple of hours of sleep, I had a text message from Spencer waiting for me when I woke up.
I sincerely apologize for last night. The job is still yours, but I also understand if you don't want it anymore. Take a few days, whatever time you need, and let me know.
I was relieved, of course, but also deeply curious to know how we would keep things professional after something like that. I guess I was just mostly surprised that he was willing to, considering he seemed pretty rattled by it.
Still, If he was willing to try, then so was I.
I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't give up you and Benjamin for the world. All is well?
He texted back almost immediately; All is well.
It only clicked into place a few months later, once the initial shock of our "escapade" had faded away and we could return to business as normal. Because, really, the truth was we couldn't return to business as normal. We tried, but he never looked me in the eye for longer than a second at a time, he refused to touch me in any way, careful not to even brush my hand as he handed me my monthly check, and his small talk was even more painful than it had been previously.
Still, I continued to be Benny's nanny—and best friend, according to Auntie Penelope, much to her dismay. I still loved that kid more than anything in the world, and I still, unfortunately, wanted his father to kiss me again.
I was willing to let it all go, though, to admit that it was a silly stupid crush that could never come to anything and just deal with it like an adult, and then I had to overhear the motherfucker when he came home one night. I was resting on the couch, about to open my eyes when I heard the door open, but then I heard a voice that wasn't Spencer's. It was his friend, Luke.
Spencer cut him off then. "Quiet, please."
There was shuffling, keys being set down, and then a small laugh as they got closer to me. I didn't move a muscle, focusing only on my breathing. "Right. Don't wake the hot nanny, got it."
"She's right there," Spencer hissed, and I tried not to laugh. My insides flared to life as he added, "And I asked you not to bring that up..."
"Oh, come on, Reid. You have the hots for her; big deal. It's normal."
"So? I'm... I'm technically her boss, and she's far too young for me. It's not right, and you know that."
"Whatever. You do what you think is right, man, but I'm telling you; Ignoring it is only going to make you more stressed."
Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and the two shuffled off into the kitchen for God-knows-what. All I could think about was that he wanted me. It was probably killing him just as badly as it was killing me not to give into each other again. My mind was racing, my heart beat violently in my chest, and I knew then that I had to pretend to wake up or else I'd sit there and burst into flames.
I had to leave. I had to do something; What, I didn't know, but this revelation had me reeling and feeling a myriad of things, and I needed to sit with them, preferably alone so I wasn't tempted to just jump him on the spot.
"Did we wake you? I'm sorry." Spencer's kind voice warmed me from the inside out as I shuffled into the kitchen to say goodbye.
I quickly gathered my things and avoided his gaze. "Oh. No, you didn't. If you're back for the night though, I'm gonna go home. I'm exhausted."
"Little guy was that rambunctious, huh?" Luke joked.
I smiled and gave him a wink. "Oh, no. He was an absolute angel, as always. His daddy raised him well. Goodnight. See you tomorrow, Doctor Reid?"
He cleared his throat, rasping out, "Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Night."
I tried not to run mischievously out the door, willing my legs to be normal. But the second there was a tangible barrier between us, I bolted to my car, high on adrenaline and unable to wipe the smile from my face; I was wide awake.
Eventually, though, I realized it would be absolutely stupid to do anything about it. Did it boost my ego and my mood? Absolutely. It also softened the blow of his avoidance and his initial rejection that night; All of his behavior made much more sense. Sure, I was a little disappointed that he wouldn't entertain our mutual desire, but as long as it was there... It couldn't be that bad, right?
Wrong.
I'd gotten a text from him earlier in the day, asking if I could come over last minute to watch Benny. I wasn't going to say no, obviously, but when I got there to see him dressed up, I shot up an eyebrow.
"A little fancy for work, yeah?" I told him, hanging my keys up and listening for Benny.
"Oh, I'm... not going to work, actually. I, uh... I have a date."
I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to react. Naturally my thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—visions of Spencer sleeping with another woman, someone older and not a nanny. Someone who was distinguished and well-read and smart, someone like himself. Someone who was more inherently right for him. It... made me sad.
Admittedly, I felt stupid even thinking that way. It wasn't my right to dictate his dating life, no matter how badly I wanted him; I knew what he tasted like, knew how it felt to come undone in his embrace, and yet I wasn't entitled to him solely based on that.
Still. It doesn't mean I had to like it.
"Oh... Um... Good for you," I told him, nodding and turning away in case he tried to profile me. "Have fun."
He said goodbye to Benny a few minutes later, and then gave me a polite, transactional wave on his way out the door. It shut, and it felt like my chest was collapsing.
But I was only able to wallow for a few seconds. Benny tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me quizzically.
"Auntie Y/N, are you sad?"
His sweet face lifted my spirits like it always did, and I didn't have the energy to think about the other emotions that were swimming around in my chest anyway. So I smiled at him and picked him up, shaking my head. "Not anymore, kiddo; I get to hang out with my favorite person!"
We spent all night munching on Cheeto Puffs and building Lego sets, and it was unsurprising to me that by the time I'd finished one, Benny had finished three. Still, our sets combined to make a larger one, and then we were able to give the people names and backstories and adventures.
Either time passed very quickly, or Spencer didn't last very long on his date, because the front door opened and I was surprised he was home before I could put Benny to bed.
"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running and dropping his half-eaten Cheeto Puff in my lap. I laughed and tossed it in the trash can on my way to the door, greeting Spencer, who was hugging his son tightly and making him giggle profusely.
"You're home early," I observed as he set him down.
"Had to make it home before curfew, of course." A joke. He was deflecting. I kind of hated that I felt relief at the insinuation.
"Of course," I agreed.
"So, what did you guys do while I was gone?"
Benny jumped and grabbed his father's hand. "Auntie Y/N and I made a whole Lego village! It has a library!"
"It does?" Spencer asked bending down to his level and positively beaming. The sight made my chest tighten.
"It really does! Do you want to come see?"
"Oh, absolutely. I just have to talk to Auntie Y/N first, and I'll be right in, is that okay?" He nodded and Spencer ruffled his hair. "Okay. Say goodnight."
Benny turned and ran to me then, and I squatted down to hug him. "Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Thank you for building with me."
"Oh, you're welcome, kiddo. You're an excellent building partner; The best in the business."
He laughed and scampered off to his bedroom, and as I stood up, I felt Spencer's eyes on me. I couldn't decipher what the feeling was on his end, but regardless, it burned a hole through me and made my heart pound in my ears.
"How'd it go?" I asked casually, dusting Cheeto off my jeans. Did you do it just to forget about how much you want me? Did it work?
He shrugged and leaned against the counter with a lazy smile. He almost looked exhausted. "I'd have much rather liked to be at home with my boy and his best friend to tell you the truth."
My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Was he fucking with me? Or was he simply telling the honest, innocent truth, while I was letting my lust take the drivers' seat and go searching for some insane imaginary intention to help along my hot-single-father/nanny fantasy?
Suddenly, I was the one who felt exhausted, and Spencer could tell. He shifted and continued talking. "Thank you again for staying with him on such short notice."
"Oh, anytime. It's what I'm here for. In fact, feel free to go on all the bad dates you want."
I don't know why it came out of my mouth, but I was glad that Spencer laughed. Still, I scrambled to get my keys and walked past him to leave, kind of embarrassed by the verbalized impulsive thought regardless.
His hand grabbed my arm gently before I could leave, and my heart caught in my throat. I dared to look up at him and immediately felt that familiar heat return to my core, suddenly very fragile under the weight of his gaze.
He studied me for a moment before he let go of my arm and cleared his throat. "Goodnight."
I couldn't help the feeling that he wanted to tell me something else. He did say he wanted to talk to me before putting Benny to bed, after all... So, what? That was it?
It was stupid, and I should have just told him, "Goodnight," back, but those damned impulsive thoughts kept dancing on my tongue with reckless abandon, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. So, without another thought, I tilted my head and asked him instead, "Was she my age?"
Spencer stared at me, something darkening in his eyes when he responded, "No."
I threw back one of his considering hums, glancing down at his lips before looking him directly in the eye and giving him a firm, "Oh." There were plenty more things I could have told him, none of them appropriate. But I figured I'd already had enough pushing my luck for the night, and reached for the doorknob instead of dragging it out. The night would end like it always did, with a formal, professional farewell.
I was about to finally tell him, "Goodnight," but his hand came down very gently over mine and rendered me silent. Our eyes met once more, and a shiver ran down my spine.
"Even if she had been, she wouldn't have been you."
And then he opened the door for me, and I walked out without another word, my head spinning and my heart threatening to give out on me. He hadn't even kissed me, but he might as well have; I was just as breathless.
ACT III: He Is Nice, But He Looks So Mean.
I was actually littered with nerves walking in the door the next time I came over to watch Benny.
I hadn't heard anything from Spencer for a week, until he called and asked me to come over for the night to watch him while he went to work. I was going to do it with no questions asked, obviously, but because that insane confession was echoing in my mind on a continuous loop since it happened, I couldn't even bring myself to think about seeing him again and knowing... I had no idea what reaction my body was going to have to being in his presence again.
It scared me, but also deeply excited me.
Once my body had enough courage to step through the doorway, my heart rate sped up exponentially, and then upon seeing what was in front of me, it stuttered with a terrifying halt.
Warmth flooded my veins and brought a smile to my face when the four-year-old boy I nannied for and loved more than anything threw his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Happy Birthday!"
He ran up to me and nearly toppled me to the ground, and on instinct, my arms reached out to pick him up as he hugged my neck and listed off the things he did to celebrate.
"Daddy said your birthday was yesterday, but we wanted to give you a party just like you did for my birthday! So we went to the store and got you ingredients for your cake, and we made it just for you!"
"You did?" I exclaimed, setting him down and letting him lead me to the kitchen where the cake was sitting out on the table, clearly homemade by two boys who didn't know the first thing about baking or decorating anything. Spencer was standing across the kitchen table with a proud, albeit I-know-it's-not-much-to-look-at smile, but I barely had time to thank him before Benny told me about the process, step-by-step.
As he went on, I nodded and admired the cake, complimenting the purple and green swirls of frosting (his favorite color and mine, he explained), and the trail of assorted candies in the shape of a stegosaurus in the middle (my favorite dinosaur).
"Do you love it, Auntie Y/N?"
I hugged him again with tears in my eyes. I tried not to actually cry, but the tugging at the back of my throat and the blurring of my eyes was extremely difficult to push away. I realized then, as Spencer watched me with his son and looked like he might have been ready to cry himself, that it wasn't worth trying to hide. I was extremely moved and even happier in that moment than I think I'd ever been. I loved that man and his child more than anything I'd ever known.
So, I blinked hard and let the tears silently descend down my cheeks, kissing the side of Benny's head as I told him, "I love it so much. And I love you so much. Thank you."
I looked up at Spencer and said it again. "Thank you."
He nodded, reaching for the star-shaped candle next to the cake. "You're very welcome. Benny, do you want to help Auntie Y/N light the birthday candle?"
The boy squirmed in my arms and I let him down with a laugh as he excitedly reminded us, "That's my favorite part of birthdays!"
"I apologize if you find an eggshell," Spencer warned a few minutes later, slicing the cake after the song had been sung and the candle had been blown out. He slid my plate over and handed me a fork. "Benny and I did our best to fish them all out, but it's... surprisingly harder than it looks."
As Benny nodded in agreement, I looked down at him and took a forkful of cake. "Oh, I don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure you two are excellent eggshell fishermen."
The four-year-old giggled, but his father sighed as if to say, Don't say I didn't warn you...
To no one's surprise but Spencer's, the cake was delicious. I may have played it up for dramatic effect, putting on a whole show as I chewed and considered every bite, playing as if I was unsure and really critiquing the dessert. I set my fork down and looked at Spencer with squinted eyes, then slowly to his son. The suspense was obviously killing him, his small limbs bouncing with anticipation and a smile that suggested he was going to urge the verdict out of me if I didn't announce it very soon.
I decided to spare him the wait.
"Benjamin Reid... That might just be the best cake I've ever had."
"Really? No eggshells?"
I laughed, reaching to give him a high-five as he beamed up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide-open smile. "Not a single one. You should be very proud of yourself. You and your dad, both."
Benny hugged me again, and I glanced over to Spencer, who was slicing another piece of cake and staring at me with that intense look in his eyes, a satisfied half-smile adorning his face. A rush of heat came surging through my bloodstream like a tidal wave, and I had to look away from him or I was afraid I'd collapse on the spot.
Benny didn't know it, but he was saving my life in that very moment, as the three of us ate cake together. I refused to look at his father. I needed literally anything else to keep me from even glancing his way, and my four-year-old best friend's rambling habits were the perfect focus.
He told me more about his process for decorating the cake, and while I was genuinely a little surprised at how much thought there really could have been with the task, with an ever-moving mind like Benny's, it was actually quite clear by the end of it. It charmed me to no end and filled me with pride to know that I'd had enough of an impact on him to trigger this level of detail and consideration. Again, it's not like I'd never had people who cared about me before, but when it came to the Reids, my heart sang a tune I'd never heard, and it was the most beautiful, brightly vivid sound I'd ever had the pleasure to hear—to feel.
I was thinking too much about it, letting the song swallow me whole as tears stung in the back of my eyes and threatened to fall again, when Spencer's phone buzzed on the table. The sound grounded and intrigued me, even more so when he glanced up at me for a moment, right before directing his words to his son.
"Benny, Uncle Will is outside. Is your bag ready?"
He jumped from his seat and nodded. "In my room."
"Okay. Before you grab it, say goodnight to Auntie Y/N."
I felt the toddler's arms hugging my legs, and turned all my attention to him, refusing once again to look at the man whose eyes I could feel burning me alive with something deeply ravenous, begging to be unfettered. I had a feeling, creeping over my senses like a thick blanket of ivy, that I wasn't making it up and letting my desire for him take the wheel, either; Just as the loving, family-friendly song in my heart had been—bright and vivid—this feeling was just as much the same in its intensity, only echoed with a sound that felt very much like those dark, low hums Spencer always emitted alone in my presence. I felt it all around me and hoped to God that I wasn't about to leave this place feeling like a hopeful, stupid idiot.
"Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Did you like your birthday?"
"I did, Benny," I answered in earnest, ruffling his hair. "You're very thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much."
"I love you, Auntie Y/N."
I squeezed him tight and made sure he understood every word as truth when I told him, "I love you, too."
ACT IV: When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Your Girl.
The apartment was quiet when Spencer took Benny outside to meet with Will. I did my best to keep myself busy, cleaning up forks and plates, and wiping down the counter tops while simultaneously ignoring the hammering of my heart against my chest. The organ wouldn't calm down, even as I hummed to myself. It's like those nerves that I had walking through the front door that night never actually went away— only subsided for a little while in favor of wholesome celebration.
Part of me wanted to flee, but I knew it wasn't an option. Not really. I had to at least talk to Spencer and thank him for the effort. Perhaps I was good enough of an actress that I could pretend to have been ignorant of his glances all night, or at least that they didn't affect me like he maybe wanted them to.
Catching myself in the act of overthinking again, I grunted and slammed a glass of water, willing the fresh liquid to wash away any insanity. There was no use going through all the possible scenarios in my head, not when there wasn't much time before Spencer returned. No matter what happened, I wasn't going to be prepared for it.
I certainly wasn't prepared for the way my heart practically leapt out of my chest when he returned, softly opening and closing the door. It took everything I had not to turn around and allow him to see how nervous I was. I kept my back turned, hoping and praying I wasn't visibly shaking as heavily as I felt. I was warm all over.
His presence behind me was dense and ever-present― almost suffocating. I took my time drying off the plates and forks I'd washed while he was away, hearing him rustle around without a word or acknowledgement of me, and then he finally spoke. I almost dropped a fork.
"Why are you doing my dishes, Birthday Girl?"
"My birthday was yesterday..."
He laughed and came up behind me, a gentle hand on my lower back as the other reached around and took the silverware from my grip. I relented, feeling myself numb at his touch and trying to steady my breathing.
"Yes, but we're celebrating today. In my household at least, that means you're not allowed to do any work."
I turned around to face him as he set the fork down on the counter, his other hand still hovering over my back. It returned to his side, disappearing into the pocket of his pants as I crossed my arms and looked up at him. Thankfully, despite the constant whirring of nerves and desire coursing through my entire being, I was able to hold a conversation without hesitation.
"You're not my dad."
Another amused grin. "No, I'm not. But I am your boss. And as your boss, I'm asking you to take the night off and enjoy yourself."
The way he was staring down at me seemingly punctuated his words with a gentle seduction that made me ache with need. I was getting stronger and bolder by the second, leaning forward just enough to be toe-to-toe with him.
"Okay, then, Boss... Tell me, are there any restrictions to enjoying myself in your household? Because..."
The second I heard that familiar hum rumble from his chest, I knew I was in danger― glorious, beautiful danger. His eyes glanced down at my mouth for a second before returning to my own, his body leaning into mine and his free hand reaching out to trap me against the counter.
I tilted my head and brought my fingers up to toy with the tie hanging from his neck. "I am all grown up now, after all..."
"And I suppose you know exactly what you want..."
"Mm-hmm," I drawled, pulling him in closer by the tie. Our lips were barely touching by that point, and I felt my head start to pulse with anticipation as he urged me to go on.
"Well?"
"I want to be yours."
He hummed again, pushing his body to mine and bringing the pocketed hand up to hold the side of my head. "Mmm, Darling, you always have been."
And then he kissed me.
He tasted like sugar, but his intentions were anything but sweet. His mouth devoured mine with a fire that threatened to turn me to ash. Every sense I had was alight, engulfing me in a heat so intense that it was all I was sure to know for the rest of my life. It's all I wanted and all I needed.
I met his intensity with eager hands, exploring the planes of his body as his tongue did wicked things to my own. This time I didn't even need the champagne; I was dizzy on Spencer alone. The fizz boiled me from the inside out and urged my limbs to cling to him like it was my life's purpose. Hell, for all I knew, it was my life's purpose― to burn for him and let him consume me. To revel in his dancing flame and allow it to become my life force. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.
And I was sure to let him know that, too, refusing to hold back the string of whines and moans that escaped me every now and again. The hand that had been resting on the counter behind me came down to grip and hike up my thigh, our hips colliding just as beautifully this time as they had the last. The memory caused another wanton sound to tumble from my mouth, and Spencer caught it greedily, pulling back for air long enough to squeeze my thigh and sing me a praise of his own.
"God, I love the sounds you make..."
His lips were on mine again before I could respond, but I didn't even need to. Not verbally, anyway; I guided his hand down the side of my face and over my chest, pushing my body into him and feeling his fingers tighten. His kisses grew hungrier, and suddenly I was starving.
I was finally able to break away from his mouth in favor of tasting the skin and stubble along his jaw. Then, I buried my face in his neck and reached for his belt, praying he wouldn't jump away like last time.
Thankfully, he didn't. His grip on both my breast and my thigh tightened again, but he didn't pull away from me. His breath didn't even hitch.
I took that as a good sign and slowly undid his belt. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of excitement between my thighs, though the visions dancing behind my eyelids of what I planned to do in just a few moments helped my pleasure immensely. I dragged my tongue softly along Spencer's neck before freeing the belt and sinking to the ground alongside it. His hands fell away from my body and chose to root in my hair instead. The gentle tugging at my scalp admittedly made me stumble, but not out of discomfort; I was actually quite surprised at how much I liked the feeling.
Spencer noticed, humming again with amusement as I went back to tugging down his pants. Still, he said nothing, instead watching me intently as I continued my journey.
I didn't hide the desire I felt as I palmed the length of him through his underwear. In fact, I couldn't decide if I wanted to keep my sight leveled or to angle it up at him, because it was a damn good sight either way; The sensual nature of my fingers gently caressing him, knowing what was resting beyond that thin layer of fabric and imagining how it probably felt to him, or the thick and domineering air between his face and mine, his gaze committing every movement I made to wicked memory...
With a sigh, I opted to lean forward, ignoring the sharp bruising on my knees and putting all my focus into the task at large.
Spencer seemed to tell I was thinking too much, gently massaging my scalp and cooing, "Have you ever done this before?"
Yes, but... "Not with anyone I've actually wanted this badly..."
"Mmm, that does make a difference..." he observed. "Whatever it is that you need to be comfortable, Y/N― tell me. Okay? Promise me you won't hurt yourself in any way just to please me."
A surge of heat exploded through me at the intensity of it all. He was sincere, and by the sound of things, sympathetic to my overthinking. It was another show of just how much I wanted him to guide me, to hold me in his comforting, knowing embrace and show me exactly how life should be lived. Every life experience there was to know, I wanted to know it with him.
"I promise," I told him firmly, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the cotton between us.
His eyes struggled to stay open when I finally gripped his cock, feeling the weight of it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. I glanced down then, taking in every ridge as it disappeared slowly down the length of my tongue. I reveled in the taste, in the fullness I felt the deeper it went, and once it hit the back of my throat and caused me to choke and pull back, I angled my eyes back up at his face to find the most heavenly sight I'd ever seen.
Spencer watched me all the time. I was no stranger to his intense gazes. But when I looked up at him that time, his mouth open and eyes so deeply darkened with need that they could have drowned me, I truly thought I might have died and entered the afterlife. Perhaps that was dramatic, but there was no other possible way for me to describe the feeling that coursed through me in that moment. Suddenly I was chasing it, longing to be in that state of euphoria forever, and my mouth eagerly went to work in pursuit of it.
I took my time, exploring the ways he could fit in my mouth and the ways my tongue could cover the length of him. I went in search of any pleasure point I could find, occasionally looking up to gauge his reaction and finding nothing but those beautiful, salacious pools of liquid gold.
Eventually, I was brave enough to take him to the back of the throat again, holding him there and seeing how long it would take before I felt the air leave my lungs. I repeated the process a few times, stroking him with my hand in between gasps of air and shivering at the way he tugged my hair. My vision was starting to blur, but I persisted, aching to know what he tasted like as he came undone.
Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards for me to find out that night.
I whined as he held my head away from him, praying he wasn't backing out.
"Stand up, please," he asked softly. It sounded like he'd been breathless, and maybe he had. The thought that I had that effect on him calmed my nerves and made me dizzy as I stood, and his hands cradled my head once again.
"You are so good," he whispered, kissing me deeply. I melted into him, only for him to pull back and continue his praises. "So beautiful..." Another toe-curling kiss, and then, "So perfect."
My eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over my jaw and to my pulse-point. "My good, sweet girl," he murmured, and the words caused me to clench around nothing.
"Please."
The word fell out of me with a whimper and at its urgency, Spencer's mouth attacked my neck with a gentle, hungry bite that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Follow me."
And I did. I always would.
As much as I would have loved the opportunity to look around his bedroom and make banter about what I discovered on any normal day, my brain was so overwhelmed and numb with desire that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.
Not that I would have had the time to think about it anyway; He was on me the moment my legs touched the edge of the bed, devouring my mouth once more and pulling me into his atmosphere with fervor. Willing myself to get even closer to him, I brought my fingers up to thread through his hair and was rewarded with another gentle tug of my own.
Suddenly I was extremely hot, squirmy and anxious to break free from the confines of clothing, and Spencer could tell.
He broke apart with a laugh, bringing a hand down to trace the collar of my shirt. "Have you no patience?"
"You're the one sucking my face like it's the end of the fucking world," I breathed when he shifted the collar and exposed more of my skin to the air, earning me another low grumble of a laugh.
"You're not complaining are you?"
"God, no."
"Mmm, good," he hummed into my cheek, reaching down and tugging my shirt over my head. The fabric caught on his nose for a second, bringing a laugh to the surface of my tongue before he swallowed it with another kiss and tossed the shirt to the ground.
Warm, nimble fingers spanned my bare stomach and thoroughly explored the surface area of me, up and up until they slipped under the backside of my bra.
"Is this okay?"
I pushed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip. "Yes, Doctor."
Goosebumps littered my arms as he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it off my body, and I barely had time to take a breath before he was kissing me again, pawing at my chest and slipping me his eager tongue. My senses were on overload, that hot pang of need pulsating between my legs as I then fell backwards, letting him lay me down and settle himself between them. His kisses traveled lower, tongue darting out to flick over my peaked nipple, and I involuntarily arched up into him.
No one had ever paid this much careful attention to my body before—It was always a quick pleasantry to get out of the way before the main course. But the way Spencer held and touched and tasted me felt like a crash course in intimacy. He was still hungry for me, obviously, but he made it feel like it wasn't just about the destination. He savored each and every second of the moment in all its pent-up, beautiful glory.
Which is why, when he finally slipped a hand down the front of my pants, he seemed delighted to find that I was practically soaked through my panties already.
His middle finger pressed firmly at my clothed heat, and I sighed into his mouth.
"Look at what I've done to you... Poor thing. You're just aching to be filled, aren't you?"
My head had no choice but to arch backwards as I moaned into the open air at his words, my legs clamping around his hand. "God, Spencer, please..."
"So I'm not wrong, then?" he mused, teasing me some more and just barely pushing the fabric aside. I squirmed and lifted my hips, trying to guide him in the right place, but he pulled away from me then, leaving me cold.
Only a second later did the heat return; Spencer stood at the foot of the bed and gently helped me scoot to the edge. He removed the rest of my clothes and stared down at my bare figure as he unbuttoned his shirt, debauchery settling in his eyes as they raked over me. With careful consideration, once his shirt was on the floor with the rest of my clothes, he came down and caressed my inner thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart.
"You're so wet and needy, I'm willing to bet you don't even need me to prep you..."
All it took was one lithe finger to prove his theory correct. It slid into me with ease, and I whined out at the contact. One finger swiftly became two, and after a few slow pumps with no resistance, he seemed satisfied. "Mmm, that's what I thought... You've been ready for me for a long time, haven't you?"
"Uh-huh," was all I could manage under the circumstances. Every word and every touch was rendering me incapable of anything more complex.
He removed his fingers from me then, and leaned down to nudge my nose with his own. "How are you feeling?" he asked me in a whisper, fluttering a gentle kiss over my lips as his cock barely teased my entrance. It was such a simple question, but it only deepened the desire I felt for him— It was gentle and attentive and intimate...
"Never better," I responded earnestly.
"Yeah?" he cooed. He pushed into me slowly then, and I gasped at the pressure. "Are you ready to take it?"
"Uh-huh," I stuttered once more, crying out silently when he finally bottomed out and ground his hips in a slow circle against my own.
"Tell me what you want, little girl," he begged sweetly against my lips. "Please, I need to hear you say it."
I gripped his shoulders and pulled back a little to hold his gaze, almost gasping out again at the way his hips pinned me down. It was difficult to form the perfect sentence, but I figured I didn't really need to say much at all― only the whimper-y, pathetic truth, which was, "I want you so bad..."
"As you wish."
The words barely left his lips before he began to move, hooking my legs around his forearms and spreading me apart further. He fucked me deeply, and with a steady pace that knocked the wind from my lungs and already had me seeing stars. That had never happened before.
Spencer could tell, a grin forming on his face as he freed one of his hands and softly traced my jaw. "Better than you thought?"
Absolutely. But there was something about that cocky grin on his face and the lilt in his voice that made me want to be difficult. I struggled to talk through heavy breathing, but I managed to choke out, "Don't... flatter yourself."
I don't quite know what I expected, but it was a bit of a shock to me when he hooked his thumb into my mouth and pressed down gently on my tongue, quickening his pace inside me and making me gasp out again.
"Aw... Are you not enjoying yourself?" he pouted without a single hint of sincerity; He knew I was.
I cried out and involuntarily closed my mouth around his thumb, my insides burning alive at all the sensations coursing through me. My cunt clenched around him, and he cried out himself, laughing softly as he did so. "That's what I thought..."
I wanted to watch him the way he watched me, to study his features and his movements and take it all in with reverence, but he was too fucking good at this. He was so skilled in the art of rendering me senseless, all I could do was lay there and take it. He gave himself to me in the most intimate, soul-crushing way, and I wanted to bask in it forever.
His other hand snaked along the inside of my thigh and held me open for him as he looked down, watching himself fuck me. I barely caught glimpses of his wandering gaze, wondering how he could be so focused when it was taking everything I had to stay cognizant. I blamed it on my lack of experience with good sex, and silently vowed to myself that one day I would return the favor.
Until then, I would lay at Spencer's mercy and take pleasure in the simple fact that he was willing to give me this― to give me a piece of himself that would no doubt ruin any other partner. He was setting the standard and exceeding it simultaneously. He was kind and caring and considerate. He was thorough and thoughtful.
And he was making me come. Hard.
The orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my body stuttering in quick, pulsing flashes of pleasure that got stronger and stronger each second. Spencer fucked me through it with ease, never missing a beat. His thumb slid out from my mouth and down my chin, allowing me to cry out for him all I wanted, which, seemingly was his goal.
"That's my good girl," he breathed, his voice tight. Perhaps he wasn't as put together as I thought. "Let it all out for me... Please..."
Please... God, that word sounded so good falling from his lips. It echoed in my mind as I gave him what he wanted, though not from choice. It was like his movements and his words were designed specifically to draw the sounds from my body. I would have given them to him anyway, but I didn't have to try, and that was the magic of it all. He knew exactly what would keep me mewling through the most intense pleasure of my life, and I was more than happy to allow him the pleasantry.
His orgasm came at the tail-end of mine, and though I was steadily growing tired at the exertion, I found the strength to clench around him again, recalling how he'd reacted before. I reached for his hand and allowed him to lace our fingers together as he came with a loud shuddering sigh.
Finally, I was able to focus, another chill running its course through my nervous system as Spencer pulsated inside me. His movements faltered as he spilled over, filling me so deep that I had no choice but to gasp again. My name sounded heavenly on his tongue as it danced in the air behind curses and sighs, and suddenly I understood why he enjoyed hearing my sounds so much. The warmth that bloomed in my chest as I watched and felt and heard him come undone above me delivered me to the most prideful of feelings.
I watched as his face relaxed, felt as his body eased and fell away from mine, and before I had time to even think of what to say, he was moving, kneeling at the end of the bed and spreading my legs again.
Oh, my God...
I couldn't even tell if I said the expression out loud, but I certainly felt its gravity in my bones, low and reverberating as Spencer inspected his work.
His fingers barely caught what had leaked out, and then his tongue followed suit, licking a gentle hot stripe up the seam of me. My fingers clutched at the comforter underneath me, searching for any sign of stability as my senses started to lose control once more.
"Darling," he praised, kissing the inside of my thigh, "you took me so well..."
I was halfway through telling him, "Thank you," when he started licking at my clit, making me stutter. He took his time, tasting me thoroughly while filling me with his fingers. Between drowning in the residual pleasure of my previous orgasm and also in the sounds he was making below me, it wasn't long before another one approached. It was sharp and quick, making my back arch up off the mattress as Spencer sucked my clit into oblivion.
Rather than incoherent cries of pleasure, the only thing that dared to leave my mouth at the sensation was a very loud, very appropriate, "Fuck!" to the evening air.
The curse tumbled out over and over again as the orgasm rocked through me, and he pulled himself away from me at the end of it with a shit-eating grin. "Such a dirty mouth..."
It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, shivering as he climbed back up on the bed and laid beside me. "You're one to talk, Doctor."
"I guess I'm a poor influence. Sorry."
It was mostly a joke, but I could tell that he believed there was some truth to his words. I did my best to reassure him, not only because he was my boss and I needed to reinstate the idea that we both made the decision to sleep together, not just him, but also because I secretly hoped he wouldn't regret the decision at all— regret me. Selfishly, I wanted to know if he'd consider keeping me around as more than just a nanny. I wanted to know if there was even a slight chance that this wouldn't end in total emotional disaster.
"You have nothing to be sorry for... Nothing..."
Spencer studied me for a moment, something settling in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it felt... warm. It was a different warmth than the searing heat that his gazes had radiated before. Perhaps it was wishful, foolish thinking, but I almost imagined it feeling akin to the realization that you were falling in love— the type of warmth that terrified yet excited you all the same, that triggered your nerves and also gave you hope.
It reminded me of that dangerous, beautiful hope that lingered in his smile every time he'd come home from a long day at work to see me and Benny safe and sound in the comfort of his home.
His hand gently brushed mine, I laced our fingers together, and that's when he finally responded.
"Neither do you, you know... I meant what I said. Every word." His fingers tightened in mine, and I felt myself become breathless again. "You're perfect. And I'm lucky to have you."
"You're just saying that because it's my birthday," I joked, trying to keep myself from crying in front of him. I didn't know why that was so important to me, especially considering just a few hours ago I'd decided not to hide the truth from him, no matter how emotional and teary of a truth it was.
Spencer pressed his forehead to mine, sighing my name through a smile. "You are... the best thing that has happened to me since Benny. I was afraid to admit it at the start, but... You're so good to him, and so good to me... I genuinely don't ever want to know what life would be like without you."
I couldn't help it then. My vision was suddenly obscured by tears, and I was blinking them away, letting him capture my lips in a tender kiss that rivaled any other.
I prayed in that very moment that there would be more like them in the future.
CODA: All My Rings Will Be Made of Gold.
Turns out, there had been plenty more, and then some.
It's hard to choose a favorite, though obviously I'm quite biased when it comes to my boys. So, I suppose it's easy for me to recall the night I got engaged as my favorite.
I wasn't nannying for Benny anymore; He was in school during the day (Kindergarten! I cried dropping him off on his first day, and Spencer had to console me with kisses and ice cream), and by that point I'd been moved into the apartment for almost a year.
I was out grocery shopping, and when I came home, there were flowers all over the floor, bright colors scattered in an obvious trail that led to the bedrooms. I didn't quite understand what was happening, but my heart still hammered in my chest, unable to shake that feeling of warmth and hope.
"Boys? What are you up to?" I called, dropping the bags off in the kitchen and following the flowers.
They were both kneeling on the floor of Benny's bedroom, Spencer with an open ring box in his hand, and Benny with a piece of paper in his.
"Will you be my mom?"
Really, how could I have said no? There isn't a world in which I ever would have, but even still. Benny was unable to sit still, waiting for me to answer him, and I remembered the night they presented me with that first birthday cake of many for years to come. He was the same way then, happier than ever to surprise me, and meanwhile all I wanted to do was burst into tears over how much love I was feeling.
Unlike that night, however, I was simply unable to tease him with the anticipation of an answer. I couldn't even pretend to consider it, not for a moment. It was the easiest answer I'd ever given. To this day, it still is.
Benny ran up and hugged me the tightest he ever had before, and Spencer got up from the ground to meet us, slipping a thin gold band on my finger as I repeated the word to him through the tenderest of kisses.
"Yes."
THE END.
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nativegirltapes · 5 months ago
Text
pairing: toxic!rafe x sweetheart!reader
you and rafe always took 'breaks', but they never lasted. when he asked you to meet him in the middle of the night you could never say no.
you and rafe had been on your longest break yet, going on 3 weeks. and you couldn't lie, you'd been doing really good without him. but you missed him, a lot.
you didn't know why you missed him so much, it was almost like a drug you just couldn't live without despite knowing you're better off without it.
2AM, sitting in your room, music blasting through your earbuds, paging through your favorite clothing catalog; you felt your phone vibrate right next to you. thinking it was pope; the cute pogue you had recently befriended and been texting, you had a slight smile on your face.
that smile faded when you realized it was indeed not pope, but rafe. of course from some random number because you blocked him on his own.
252-###-### - It's me. Can we talk? Meet at tanneyhill in 15? PLS. I love you.
you sighed, partly of self disappointment because you knew you were going to do exactly what he wanted. but also partly from relief, this being you and rafe's longest break, you wondered what had been keeping him so busy from trying to reach out to you. on previous breaks he'd be begging to see you a few days in.
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ 🍰 . .
rafe was sat on the front steps of tanneyhill, he looked stressed and upset, but really when wasn't he?
"hey," you said softly, standing in front of him, not wanting to get too close.
"hey." he looked up at you. "thanks for coming."
"yeah." your voice was full of shame. it was embarrassing how you couldn't say no to rafe. you liked to rationalize your embarrassment by convincing yourself that you were doing this for him, that he needed you and how could you say no to someone who needed you? but no, you knew deep down your relationship with rafe was self-inflicted and self indulgent. if you tried hard enough you could say no, but the thing was that you just really didn't want to. and that was the most embarrassing part.
you liked getting treated like you were everything one day, and nothing the next. the feelings rafe made you feel were ones close enough to addiction. the highs were so high, but the lows were low.
rafe patted his lap, signaling for you to come take a seat on his lap. of course you did. "i missed you," rafe placed his hand on your inner thigh.
"missed you too rafe." you were basically now bridal style in his lap, ass on one of his thighs, your legs propped up on the other, and your ams wrapped around his neck. you missed being held like this.
"yeah? how much you miss me?" he had a smirk on his face while looking at you. god he looked so good. you hated how good he always looked.
"i dont know," you giggled softly, "a lot."
"heard you been talking to that pogue," rafe looked into the distance, you could tell he was trying his best to remain calm. "what's his name? pope."
you were confused as to how he would even know that, but to be honest it was probably best you didn't know. "just texting." you immediately defend yourself. "just friendly."
"friendly huh?" rafe scoffs. "do y'know how many guys would love to be 'just friendly' with you?"
"really rafe?" you dropped your legs from his lap. only rafe would invite you over to resolve things just to start another argument.
just as you were about to get up from his lap, he pulled you back down onto it. "cmon don't leave now," rafe moved your hair to the side, leaving the side of your neck that was closest to him on full display. "was just teasin'." his hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.
“i don’t want to be teased.” you sighed under your breath.
“what do you want?”
“i want you to love me.” a singular tear fell down your face, rafe immediately wiping it.
“i do love you,” rafe’s voice was soft in a way you’d never heard before. “i love you more than,” you could tell he was really trying to pick his next words wisely. “i love you more than everything.” rafe kissed you on the cheek, his wet lips colliding with your wet tears.
and maybe that was also half the reason you couldn’t leave rafe. you knew that deep down aside from all the bad things he’s done to you; he has real love in his heart, he just doesn’t know how to show it.
1K notes · View notes
5sospenguinqueen · 6 months ago
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Emotional Range Of A Teaspoon | Pierre Gasly
Summary: What right does he have to feel angry at the sight of Y/N and Charles? The answer is none. After all, she's only his best friend. Isn't she?
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Fluff. Jealousy. One suggestive comment
No faceclaim but British reader. 2024 timeline
F1 Masterlist
Requested: Yes (sorry it's a little late)
This one actually comes with a tiny text paragraph mid-way through
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Replies to @ PierreGASLY
Charles_Leclerc c’mon mate, it’s only been two days 
→ PierreGASLY a whole lifetime 
→ ItsYN i can’t even remember what you look like 
→ Charles_Leclerc and the people say that i am the dramatic one 
AlpineF1Team think you can channel that pain into some points this weekend?
→ PierreGASLY why aren’t you taking my pain seriously 
→ AlpineF1Team do you want us to schedule you an appointment with the counsellor?
→ ItsYN i don’t think that counsellor gets paid enough to listen to him
User1 ouch, talk about friendzoned 
→ User2 no, no, they’re in the denial stage of their friends to lovers arc
Replies to @ ItsYN
PierreGASLY i can still hear your voice
→ PierreGASLY although i’m glad you’re not making me suffer through the lost boys again
→ ItsYN okay first off, you love that movie. and second, because of that, i’m telling everyone you cried watching cars 3
→ PierreGASLY traitor!
→ LiamLawson30 as any man would!
Charles_Leclerc don’t worry y/n, i’ll have movie night with you 
→ ItsYN are you going to make me watch harry potter again?
→ Charles_Leclerc yes..?
→ ItsYN @ PierreGASLY come back please 
Replies to @ Charles_Leclerc
User3 not charles tweeting this the day after the canadian gp. y/n missed the canadian gp and you can tell poor charles had to hear all about it 
ItsYN we all know i would be the soldier and pierre would be the doting housewife crying on the platform 
→ PierreGASLY and i would look radiant doing so
Max33Verstappen he wouldn’t shut up about her during the driver’s parade. i tried to walk off and he followed me!
→ PierreGASLY i was in the middle of a sentence!
→ danielricciardo mate you know it’s bad when yapstappen needs you to stop talking
ItsYN stop talking about me. you're making it sound like we're friends
→ Charles_Leclerc excuse me but you know you want to be my bestie
→ PierreGASLY you can’t have her. she’s mine. i saw her first. shotgun or whatever you monagasques say for dibs 
→ GeorgeRussell63 actually i saw her first; her brother was my teammate when we were kids so 
→ PierreGASLY and just for that, i’m unfollowing you 
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Replies to @ CHICKEN!!
User4 whoever took this photo needs to go straight to jail. not y’all making it seem like charles and y/n are a sneaky item
User5 i knew she was shady, talking about how she couldn't make it only to end up in the winning driver’s garage 
PierreGASLY oh 
→ User6 wait no, pierre, come back. look at other tweets about this please
User7 stop being a shit stirrer. he’s literally got his other arm wrapped around alex ‘cause he was guiding the two of them through a ton of fans but that’s conveniently been cropped out 
Replies to @ BRAKKEEE
User8 i can’t believe people were trying to convince us ynarles was real when it’s clearly ynex
User9 love that charles was literally only there to keep them safe from fans and after that they were like ‘you’re done babe. now we run off into the sunset’ 
User10 watching him chase after them was so funny tho because he was literally yelling “let me play too” 
Replies to @ ItsYN
User11 oh no, we’re so sorry. we were just so happy to see you 
→ User12 yeah and pierre would’ve been happy to see her as well if you hadn’t blasted her all over the internet 
→ User13 pierre didn't exactly look all that happy though. he wouldn’t stop glaring at poor charles  
→ User12 maybe because you guys made it seem like his best friend lied to him to be with charles
Thumb aimlessly swiping at the screen of his phone, Pierre scanned the tweets as they passed, making note of a cute waffle shop in Monaco that he knew Y/N would love. Nothing of note appeared to have been posted as most of the Grid were waiting to hear where Sainz had signed. Hand halting, Pierre’s eyes flickered across the screen once. Twice. And then a third time just to be sure. His last message to Y/N had gone unanswered and now there was a picture of her on Twitter, claiming to be from today. With Charles’ arm around her. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, and a derisive scoff filled his driver’s room. What happened to being unable to book the time off work, he thought bitterly to himself. Instead she was in the Paddock with a red-clad arm wrapped around her. Before he could restrain himself, he had clicked on the ‘reply’ button. A knock at the door pulled him from his downward spiral, preventing him from looking further into the comments gushing about how cute his best friend and closest F1 friend looked as a couple. 
“Pierre, time to warm up.”
“D’accord.”
He locked his phone before dumping it onto the massage table, storming out of his driver’s room, unaware that if he had scrolled down another two posts, he would’ve seen a picture of Y/N with Alexandra and a tweet from the woman herself. 
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ItsYN just posted
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, estebanocon and others
ItsYN an amazing weekend in barcelona watching my best friend do his thing and achieve some well-deserved points. a huge thank you to charles and alex for helping me sneak into the paddock last-minute tagged: pierregasly, charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux 
553 comments
alpinef1team our favourite things rolled into one post 
→ ItsYN mine too! 
→ User1 sis, get off the floor 
estebanocon should i be offended that you wearing my cap didn’t make the post 
→ ItsYN shh i can’t have my people thinking i have friends other than pear 
danielricciardo PIERRE GASSLLLYYYYY
→ ItsYN go thirst over him on his posts. my insta is a 310 free zone
→ danielricciardo just admit that you’re jealous of our love and move on
→ ItsYN was he publicly crying over missing YOU? i don’t think so 
→ danielricciardo that’s because i’m a better friend than you and i’ve been here the whole time
→ ItsYN blocked 
alexandrasaintmleux thank you for trusting me with the surprise! 
→ ItsYn thank you for being so wonderful and helping 🩷 (and stopping charles from throttling me)
→ charles_leclerc it’s because you wouldn’t stop saying thank you and asking me if i was “sure that it’s no bother” to help you 
→ It’sYN sorry for being considerate! 
User2 not to be that person but has anyone else noticed that pierre hasn’t commented?
→ User3 i'm getting the feeling that, despite all his online complaining, he wasn’t overly excited to see his best friend this weekend? 
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User4 not the f1wags posting her, they know the truth
→ User5 what truth. it doesn’t look they’re even friends anymore
User7 it’s the way she looks like she’s trying to explain/talk to him and he’s just yelling at her 
→ User8 i used to root for them to get together but now that he’s yelled at her :/
User9 y/n is stronger than me because if a man pointed his finger like that at me, i’d savagely bite it off 
User10 uh, who does he think he is talking to y/n l/n that way
User11 i bet it’s because he thought y/n was there for charles and got jealous 
→ User12 i’ve connected the dots
→ User13 you ain’t connected shit
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User14 idk which one i want to be more
→ User15 that’s because you want to be their third instead 
User16 i’m thirsty. anyone else thirsty
LandoNorris oh god my eyes
→ danielricciardo this is why you should stop looking at x rated things on the internet 
→ User17 what happened to your pr training?
→ Charles_Leclerc what happened to pierre’s?
User18 if only he could transfer this kind of passion onto the track 
User19 uh, the clarity of the third one?? did admin take this and then leak it online? 
→ AlpineF1Team i'm afriad that we’re finding out along with you guys but we’re not gonna pretend like we weren’t rooting for this 
ItsYN why am i trending on twitter?
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ItsYN just posted
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe and others
ItsYN my little pain au chocolat 💕
845 comments
pierregasly we talked about you calling me pastries 
→ ItsYn yes, we did. and i didn’t take into account anything you said
→ pierregasly you are very lucky you're cute
→ ItsYN it's gotten me far in life
User1 talk about a hard launch
→ User2 they weren’t really given the choice considering they were caught snogging all over barcelona last weekend
alpinef1team pierre repping the alpine colours 
→ ItsYN release your chokehold on my man
→ alpinef1team no, you release your chokehold on our man 
→ ItsYN what happened to being supportive of this?
→ alpinef1team that was before all he did was yap about you!
lilymhe babe, this isn’t you. get up and come back to me 
→ ItsYN i’m sorry but i don’t think i can come back from this 
→ lilymhe what about us, what about everything we’ve been through
→ ItsYN you know i never wanted to hurt you
→ alex_albon @ pierregasly guess i’ll be seeing you at the next karaoke marathon 
→ pierregasly only if you sing breaking free with me
→ ItsYN this is why i love you
landonorris let’s take a moment for our fallen soldier… we lost an honourable brit to a french man
→ pierregasly it’s not my fault that i have charm and you don’t 
→ danielricciardo i didn’t realise charm meant having a tantrum when she asks your friend for help to surprise you 
→ pierregasly we agreed not to speak of that! 
→ ItsYN i don’t think you’re living this one down, macaron
charles_leclerc can you tell him to put his clothes back on, please
→ ItsYN i tried but he seems incapable of keeping them on around me
→ pierregasly charles is just jealous of my amazing physique 
→ charles_leclerc best you not talk about jealousy 
User4 @ ItsYN i love that they’ve not had a chance to pr train you yet
→ ItsYN never! 
User5 and they called me crazy when i said friends to lovers! 
→ ItsYN tbf hun, so did we. it took us a minute
→ User6 so pierre is slow on and off the track 
→ pierregasly hey! 
pierregasly just posted
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liked by charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and others
pierregasly from movie nights to drunken karaoke, i would go on any adventure with you 
1,454 comments
ItsYN my best friend and my love 
→ alexandrasaintmleux i thought i was your best friend 
→ ItsYN i’m not allowed to post shirtless pics of you online though
→ charles_leclerc no you are not! 
→ User7 i hope pr never got ahold of her
→ alpinef1team she has an appointment with them on thursday
yukitsunoda0511 is this what they call simping?
→ pierregasly no
→ ItsYN yes
maxverstappen1 does this mean you’ll stop talking about her during driver’s parades?
→ pierregasly no 
→ yukitsunoda0511 he’ll just stop talking about whether she’s interested in any of us 
→ ItsYN he did that?
→ pierregasly no!
→ maxverstappen1 yes, the latest victim was logan
→ charles_leclerc actually i was the latest victim, and i will remain the most famous. my jealousy era is forever captured on the internet 
→ logansargeant @ pierregasly is that why you kept asking me what i thought about her?
landonorris you guys are kinda cute when you’re not yelling at her 
→ ItsYN please stop saying this. i'm the one who has to listen to him apologise over and over for the millionth time
→ pierregasly because i feel bad! 
→ ItsYN omg i know! 
danielricciardo mate, we get it. she’s your girl now but you can let go of her for two seconds. she’s not going to disappear
→ pierregasly it’s called a healthy attachment
→ ItsYN he says whilst cuddled into my neck and following me to the bathroom
lilymhe she’s so hot, drop me her @ please
→ pierregasly back off
→ ItsYN i’m right here bby girl. let me take out on a date 
→ charles_leclerc careful lily or he might start yelling at you next 
alpinef1team we’ve been asked by an anonymous source that you all refrain from discussing previous events. reparations have been made and it’s been advised that such an event remain in the past 
→ danielricciardo lol he ran to mom
→ landonorris anonymous source, my ass. just tag him
→ georgerussell63 this is so lame
→ alex_albon mate, this is more obvious than pierre’s jealousy 
→ charles_leclerc even i cannot support him through this 
→ ItsYN i love you, my little croissant, but i cannot pretend that this is normal
→ pierregasly ultimate betrayal
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Sorry if this wasn’t angst enough. Humour and fluff are more my forte.
As always, F1 requests open for the current grid and retired drivers.
Tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury
(A huge thank you to both of you for wanting to be added to all f1 posts. It means a lot)
1K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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ROLE REVERSAL ♡
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon finds his old raccoon city uniform. instead of letting the past haunt him, he dresses you in it. it looks much prettier that way.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, officer/criminal roleplay, handcuffs
a/n: for my leon babies, i hope you all enjoy <3
kinktober slot: day 5 - roleplay
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The points of your heels click against the hardwood slats on the floor of the bedroom. Thin and elegant, the tips slick and triangular. Your boyfriend watches you waltz into the room from his spot on your shared bed. The sharp post at the center of the head board supported his hands, bound by a shiny pair of silver handcuffs.
"You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you're here today?" your voice asks, floating through the room in a seductive melody.
His eyes flit up and down over your figure. Your curves were clad in his police uniform. The spare one that hadn't seen the blood and guts of September 30th, 1998. The pale blue fabric remained pristine and bright. The golden badge on your breast glimmered as if Leon actually got to put it to good use. 
But he didn't have to think about that right now. Didn't have to remember how his life's dream had withered away with everything else in the nuclear blast. Instead he could look at you. How the cerulean polyester fits snug around your waist and chest. How you had the fabric tied into a little knot above your navel. How the pair of navy blue lace panties you had on below set off the light shade above perfectly.
A low whistle leaves his lips.
"No, sweetheart. But I gotta say, you look better in that old thing than I ever did," he responds.
A smile comes over your painted lips, but you still roll your eyes and stamp your heel.
"Leon!" you huff, "You agreed to do this, so you have to stay in character. That's not how you talk to an officer of the law."
"Oh, you're right. My mistake, officer," he says with a smirk. He clears his throat as if getting into character. "No. Not a clue."
That pleases you, and you continue walking towards the edge of the bed, your hips swaying with each step. A hair brush taps one of your palms. Your version of a night stick if he had to guess.
"I don't believe you. You've been a very bad boy. Committed a long list of crimes that should have you locked up for the next couple decades," you say.
As he watches your performance, he can't help but find you so cute. The way you speak, your attempt at taking control, is an obvious imitation of his cadence in intimate moments.
"Have I really?" he asks, eyes lazily drifting up to your face.
"Yep. But maybe, just maybe, if you give me some information about the people who put you up to it, we can make a deal."
"I'm not telling you a thing without my lawyer here," he says.
As cocky as he acted, Leon was already nude before you on the mattress. His pale skin almost glows in the dim orangey light of your bedroom. Scars trail across his abdomen that had become a little softer in the last several months. Brown hair dusts the skin of his tummy down to the collection of it curling above the base of his cock. His pretty cock, half-hard between his legs, just waiting for your attention.
You take advantage of his condition by ghosting the bristles of the brush over his v-line. The sensation tickles slightly. His hips twitch, and you see his dick jump at the faint touch to the sensitive area. 
"Why not? You can trust me, Mr. Kennedy. I just want to wrap this up as quickly as possible."
The broad end of your tool coasts over his stomach now, going up to his chest to tease his nipples before you swing it back down to the lower half of him. His heart beat picks up, and his blood starts flowing down south. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his length begin to stiffen.
"I'm not stupid," he says, his tone audibly huskier, "You never talk to the police without a lawyer."
Bringing your knee onto the edge of the foamy mattress, you boost yourself to kneel next to his immobile form.
"Normally I'd agree with you. But I'm different," you say. You come closer and swing your leg over his body so that you're straddling his lap, hovering above his cock. "Even though I believe you're guilty as sin, I want to help you."
His chest vibrates with the urge to groan at the feeling of your clothed heat so close to his aching shaft. "Why's that?" he chokes out instead.
"Because look at you. You're much more useful to me out here than behind bars," you say, reaching down behind and fondling his balls. The groan he held in before oozes from his mouth at the feeling. His cock kicks up now, resting against your center. You adjust to position the appendage between your legs. The cute pink tip stares up at you from where it peeks out of the junction between your thighs.
"That doesn't sound very professional, officer," he says. He has to remember that his hands are fastened above him because your hips call to him. The urge to squeeze them, to knead the flesh and smack your ass, boils in his chest.
You feel your clit starting to throb for his touch as well. The look in his eyes, the way his lips had parted to accommodate his breathing had you growing more and more damp by the moment.
"That, I never claimed to be," you say. 
You slide your hand down over your body, taking time to highlight the presence of his dated uniform. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. A shuddery breath leaves your lungs as your fingertip slots between your folds and finds your needy bud.
Your digit glides through the small amount of arousal, beckoning more to coat your cunt. He watches with lust-blown eyes, the surface beginning to glaze with desire. You whimper, the sound so soft and delicate it makes him buck upwards.
"Patience. You don't get rewarded for insulting me," you say and lift yourself away from him.
"Oh c'mon, baby," he grunts, "Gimme a break. I didn't insult you."
"Nope. I won't help you out unless you ask me properly," you say, grinning at the prospect of him groveling.
You play with your clit a little more, chest puffing within the confines of his top. You tilt your head back, and your spine arches with the dull pleasure you're providing yourself.
"Fuck..." he breathes, "Please, officer."
"Please what?"
"Please touch me."
The words come out laced with an intoxicating note of desperation. Your head returns to an upright position, your eyes blazing onto him.
"That's better," you purr.
By this point, you'd worked yourself up enough that the cloth guarding your cunt was soaked, sticky and clinging to your center. You spread your legs and lower to press yourself against him. He moans when your warmth makes contact.
You begin moving back and forth in tiny strokes. He whines and tugs on his restraints. The feeling of the fabric against him burns in the best way. A whine comes from you too as the bump of his tip strikes your bundle of nerves.
"Such a pretty, obedient boy. I bet I can whip you back into a functioning member of society in no time."
Grinding down with more pressure, a symphony of blissed out noises erupt from the two of you. Your palms rest on his belly to support yourself while your hips do all the work. Forward, backward, forward, backward. Like a pendulum you swipe over him in rapid succession.
Humping feels good. It always does. But after a while more, you crave a deeper sense of satisfaction.
You pull your panties to the side and grab his leaky cock. It had been drooling precum onto his pelvis, but now, it was going to be tucked inside you. You rise up and then sink back down, eliciting a mewl from yourself and another deep groan from your lover.
"See what happens when you behave and follow the rules?" you whimper.
"Uh huh. Think I'll be a much better citizen after this," he mutters.
You start to bounce, moving up and down on his shaft. The ridges of his veins rub against your insides. A chill runs up your spine. Bumps prickle up over your skin despite its heated nature. Your skin claps against his while pants puff from nostrils.
He's not keeping it together under you much better. He'd already been pretty close from the stimulation you'd given prior to this. Being engulfed in your tight cunt's wet embrace didn't stave off release at all. His heels dig into the mattress and allow him to reciprocate your movements, thrusting up into you shallowly.
"Fuck!" you yelp when he strikes your spot. You ride faster, getting lost in the pleasure. It's getting too hot now, so you tug the police shirt off your body, your breasts swinging free. The cool air brings some relief, and you toss the garment to the floor without another thought.
"Gonna cum for me, babydoll?" you ask Leon, the playful pet name you call him resurfacing. The commitment to the roleplay had vanished with the disrobing of the costume.
"Mhm, almost there, sugar," he grunts.
You squeeze around him, pulsing as your hips swivel and roll. You feel yourself getting there too. Release explodes in you like a firework, bursting in the pit of your belly and fizzling outwards to everywhere else. Your movements become erratic and rhythmless, but you continue on.
Leon can't take the pressure your orgasm brings. You clenching around him is too much to bear and he blows his load inside you, filling you up with his cum. You work it out of him with a few more fluid movements.
As soon as the wave has passed and receded, you fall forward onto his chest. You don't pull off him or let him leave your insides. All you do is nuzzle his dewy skin and smack a few wet kisses onto the area.
"You did pretty good," he rasps, the look on his face ever-teasing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a professional."
"Oh shut up. You were into it," you huff and smile up at him.
Now you do climb off his body, reaching the floor and stretching your limbs. The next thing you want to do is go take a shower with your man, but you realize something and look over at him.
"Oh shit. Where did I put the keys to the handcuffs?"
897 notes · View notes
hydrobunny · 2 months ago
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everyone thinks that they know us
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tags: confessions, getting together, friends to lovers
a/n: written from the idea made by the amazing @yangx2isawhore :3
--------------------
it's exactly 11:34pm when the ringing of your phone wakes you up.
jolting up from your bed, you blearily glare at your phone screen. the contact name of SHIDOU‼️ burns into your eyes.
you hang up.
a second later, it rings again.
"what."
"y/n!" as always, shidou's voice is just a little too loud for it to be acceptable. "how mad would you be if i killed rin right now?"
you pause. you look at the time. you consider the probability of him telling the truth.
"pretty mad."
"great!" and you can hear the grin in shidou's voice as he recites out an address. "you can come save him then."
although you were the one that had tried so hard to befriend rin itoshi, you were pretty certain that you hadn't signed up for whatever the hell this was.
you pull up at the address at a sharp 12:02 am, annoyance already settling in underneath your eyes.
the address is a mansion (why would you ever expect anything else), and the recognizable bass of party music blasts through the windows. at least a dozen different colored sports cars (you consider how much one would sell for) are parked outside of it.
you debate turning around. unfortunately, you think shidou might actually be serious about killing your best friend.
best friend. how did you get to this point? friend. didn't matter that you might have been in love with him- rin could never see you as anything more.
you knock on the door.
a man you might be able to recognize if you cared enough answers. his dual-colored eyes flit over you with interest.
"hey there, pretty," he says, and his voice is slurring with the unmistakeable touch of alcohol. "don't think you're on the invite list, but i can make an exception."
you scowl. "no thank you. shidou called me to come?"
he cocks his head. "what could someone like you possibly have anything to do with that psycho?"
"he-"
the psycho in question slams into two-eye's side, whooping. "took you long enough!"
you sigh.
shidou ryusei grins at you, positively buzzing with energy. the smell of cheap (why cheap? genuinely, why did he buy cheap alcohol?) beer lingers around his face.
"did you kill rin yet?"
the grin immediately wipes itself from his face. "getting there."
he whirls around, a warm hand latching around your own- and then he's pulling you through the hallways of this too-big house.
the music hasn't stopped for a second since you've got here. in many of the rooms, you can spot groups of vaguely recognizable people, all of them in various states of buzzed-to-plastered.
you wonder how professional athletes weren't any better than the frat boys that threw weekend parties. (well, the age range was pretty much the same)
"where are we?" you manage to shout into shidou's ear, as he pulls you further away from the heart of the party.
"sae's house!" he yells back.
"what?"
the two of you slam into another room- shidou shuts the door with too much force - and the music fades away into background noise.
rin's head snaps up at your entrance.
"rinrin!" shidou crows. "brought you another babysitter!"
rin stares at you with genuine confusion. his eyes are hazed over, his cheeks a light red. "what? y/n?" a red solo cup, ominously empty, sits by his hand.
"yes, yes," shidou replies, pushing you forward. "the only person who can somehow tolerate your presence is here!"
you slip out of shidou's grip. "what the hell is happening?"
he rolls his obnoxiously bright eyes at your question. "little itoshi's weirdly drunk and incoherent. which means big itoshi has to pretend like he cares. which means i can't force big itoshi to drink an enormous amount of alcohol! so now you have to watch this idiot!"
"i am not drunk," rin snarls towards shidou. "and i don't need a babysitter."
he attempts to get up from the counter he's perched on, and immediately wobbles. you debate whether it would be worth laughing.
before you can make a decision, another side door opens.
and sae itoshi meets your gaze with bored indifference.
"what- you!"
he raises an eyebrow. you're not sure how you got into this situation.
you wonder how you're supposed to react to meeting the one and only brother you've heard rin talk so much about.
some inner part of you immediately doesn't like him. the other part immediately notices how similar they look, and curse their sheer attractiveness.
either way, sae loses the little interest he had in you immediately, turning towards shidou. "is this-" he waves a hand towards you. "her?
shidou nods furiously. "junior is perfectly cared for now. now let's get out of here!"
rin glares at all three of you.
sae sighs. for someone who's supposed to be the host, he doesn't look thrilled at the prospect of socializing.
the elder itoshi turns his attention onto the younger. "you're fine with her?"
rin's eyes narrow further. he doesn't respond.
shidou takes that as his cue. his hands place themselves on sae's shoulders. "good talk, everyone!"
and with another slammed door, you are left alone with rin. it's more than a little awkward.
you open your mouth- he shoots you a glare. you can take a hint. (even if it breaks your heart.)
out of a bored curiosity, and maybe a little spite, you start opening cabinets. they're mostly empty (you wonder what kind of life sae lives).
rin's gaze follows you the entire way. it's intense enough to give you goosebumps.
eventually, you come across a pot of gold- a wine bottle, its cork untapped. there's a ribbon attached to its neck; you spy the JFU logo placed on top.
"he won't mind, right?" you ask.
silence follows.
you open the bottle. if you're going to be stuck here anyways, why let it go to waste?
surprisingly, it's rin that talks first. "why'd you come?" he mumbles out, stumbling over a syllable.
you shrug, taking another mouthful of the wine. (it's good. too good. damn rich people.) "shidou said he was gonna kill you."
“shidou has your number? you responded? why'd you care?" he blurts out in a tsunami of words. immediately after, he looks away with reddening ears.
you eye him with slowly growing amusement. there's a buzzing in your stomach that's slowly stripping your self control away. "yes. and yes. and because we're friends."
rin tch's, still refusing to meet your eyes. you think he'll keep talking, but he doesn't.
so you take another swig of the wine bottle. maybe rin can be the one to reach out for once.
but- like always- you're the first to crack. after a possible fifteen minutes of brooding silence, you sigh.
"what's going on with sae?"
rin's gaze snaps to your face. "what about him?"
you raise your brows. (you think you meant to raise only one. you can't really tell.) "i thought he didn't fuck with you."
rin's face scrunches at your words. "what?"
you groan, sliding down from your perch onto the floor. "you know? i thought- well, he looks like he cares."
he stands up. "he doesn't."
"sure."
he stares at you with a complicated expression, and then makes his way over to you. you blink up at him.
"i don't like you talking to him," rin says, seemingly more lucid than before.
"wasn't really my choice." you shoot him a smile, raising a hand. he lifts you up to standing with it.
from how close you now are, the two of you are almost touching. if you weren't as delirious on wine as you are now, this would be much more distressing.
even now, it takes all of your will to maintain eye contact with him.
"you don't like me talking to him?" you mumble out.
rin tilts his head. "no."
"can i ask why you came here then? or why you got plastered off cheap booze?"
he opens his mouth, then stops. and then- "you're not doing much better."
you clear your throat. more than the wine, it's rin who's clouding your thoughts. his faint cologne- so much more evident at this distance- intoxicates you.
"that didn't answer my question."
his eyes narrow. "i felt like it."
you frown. "what situation are you in that made you want to get drunk with shidou?"
and his eyes flicker down. to your lips.
"what do you think?"
you stumble; rin's hand places itself in the small of your back. signature itoshi teal burns.
you're both drunk. you're in his brother's house. and yet-
and yet, you're both here, and rin itoshi is leaning down into you.
his lips meet yours desperately, his breath catching over and over again. your hands tangle into his hair- he groans wordlessly.
you separate with a gasp.
"are you- what?" you manage, face ablaze.
rin looks just as disheveled. "y/n."
"rin."
he steps back, eyes roving from wall to wall. "fuck. fuck, im sorry. i thought-"
that's not the right words you wanted to hear. you step forward, the wine bottle long forgotten behind.
"you thought right," you blurt.
rin stares at you. a flush sits over his face.
"i thought you wanted to just be friends. that- that you didn't want me." you say.
surprise, and horror, flicks in his eyes. "what?"
you cough out a laugh. "not very smart off the field, are you?"
rin's mouth opens and closes, much like a fish. you think he's going to speak-
he closes the gap between you two, and his lips meet yours again.
between gasps, he mumbles a "i could never not want you." into your form.
and you sigh out your own declaration of love
somewhere in the house, a door slams. someone whoops in exhilaration.
but in this room, it's just you and rin. alcohol tinges both of your breaths. you're both drunk on something bigger.
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mywritersmind · 2 months ago
Text
ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4
↳ pt.3
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summary : Feelings are complicated and you and Lando aren’t a great mix to express them. A tension filled boat that leads to sexual chemistry so thick that you end up in the same bed.
og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.
listen up : ho this is long. suggestive comments!! hope you like part three!!! muah! previous part
word count : 4142
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Boat day! Boat day!” Alex chants while walking down the dock with Lily on his shoulders. I woke up to over a hundred texts to get to the dock with a swimsuit and sunscreen.
Charles’ friend doesn’t just have a boat he has a fucking yacht. It’s not gigantic but it’s definitely the nicest boat I've ever seen. “Uh Charles… you do know how to drive this, right?”
Alexandra shares my worried stare as Lando and Carlos race each other onto it. Kika throws her arm around me and grins as we walk onto the back. There’s four steps and my jaw drops as we go ‘inside’.
There’s a huge couch that turns into a dining area, a TV, followed by a small kitchen. Kika and I hurry to the front where there’s one day bed that shaded and one in the very front that’s for tanning.
Apparently there’s three bedrooms and two bathrooms! “I think I need a yacht.” I say to Kika as we check out the table and chairs on the side.
She looks like a mermaid today, in a bright blue bikini and sparkly nail polish. I’ve taken more of a siren route in dark red.
I’m all for woman doing things in ‘male’ fields, but I let the men figure out how to get the boat working. Alexandra, Lily, Kika, Rebecca and I, put our things down in one of the rooms and make our way to the Bow where the sun is hitting us perfectly.
Rebecca pulls off her shirt to reveal a light pink one piece while Lily runs over with a speaker in a multicolored bikini. We start blasting Dominic fine as Charles evidently figured the boat out, and we start to leave.
The moment we only see clear blue water, the girls turn to me. I’m laid out on the tanning bed, sunnies on and fully ready to take a sunny nap, but Rebecca pokes me.
“So, you and Lando are still alive!” She says the obvious as I sit up and lean against my arms, “How’d it go!?”
I want to tell them everything. I want to tell them that It was genuinely fun and I had a great time and i’ve never laughed harder, but I can’t. I shrug, “It was okay.”
Alex eyes me, “Just… okay?”
I nod, “He fucked up my plan so we didn’t go anything crazy and we got kicked out of a pottery place.”
Kika perks up at this, “Pottery? Did he do that thing like how the movie stars do it?” She gets behind Lily as they start to recreate those weird sexual pottery scenes.
I roll my eyes, “No. Like I said, we got kicked out. Then we just went to the hotel and split up.”
Lily frowns, “Lando said you two got a drink.”
Shit. “Oh right, I went to sleep pretty early.”
Kika groans and falls down next to me, “So nothing happened at all? No flirting, no kissing?”
Lots of flirting and fuck yes kissing!
I love my friends, and I trust them! I just don’t trust them to not tell their boyfriends. “Did you have this ‘couples day’ just so Lando and I would have a chance of hooking up?”
Lily leans in, “So is there a chance!?”
I look at all of them to make sure everyone is listening, “No chance! I told you I wanted to have a fun vacation which does not include you trying to set me up!”
Rebecca slouches a bit, “You’re right.”
“Sorry.” Alex mumbles, “We just feel bad.”
“It’s not your fault i’m single and you’re not.” I stand, “I’m going to get some water.”
My plan to hide away on the couch is immediately ruined by Lando taking up the whole thing. He’s scrolling on his phone, shirt and shoes off.
I turn quickly and go downstairs, running into Pierre, “Hey Y/n! Looking for something?”
“Uh… water?”
There’s a little mini fridge that he pulls a bottle from, “You okay?” Pierre is sweet and it makes me happy for Kika.
“Yeah!” I open the bottle and drink.
“Just that… Lando told us what happened.” I choke on the water, coughing as his eyes get panicked, “What!?”
“Are you- Uh… He just said that you two ended the night weird. We all thought it would magically turn you into friends but I guess not.” Fucking hell he just scared me so bad.
“Oh! Right… I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.” So everyone was rooting for us to become friends yesterday?
Pierre just shrugs and moves past me, walking up the stairs without another word.
⋆༺
LANDO
I’m playing poker with my friends while the girls dance around the front deck. We’re anchored on the water and after an hour of swimming, we all needed to pause.
I’m shit at poker but it doesn’t matter because i’m already distracted by the shadow of a girl through the window.
I kissed her. I kissed her and she’s avoiding me.
I think i’m an idiot but I know i’m not because anyone smart would fall for her. Not that I'm in love or anything, I’m just… intrigued?
“Lan?” Alex kicks me under the table, “What’s got you so uninterested in money?”
I just shake my head and look back down at my cards, “Something happened, didn’t it?” Pierre asks, clocking my weird mood. “With Y/n.”
“No.” She would kill me if I told, and I already said too much by drunkenly explaining that the night did not end well to Alex and Lily.
They would definitely tell their girlfriends, so I keep my mouth shut, “You’re a shit liar.” Carlos says, “But whatever, None of my business.”
Charles frowns, “Totally our business! We all love Y/n and want to know what happened!”
“Nothing happened.” I shake my head, taping a chip against the table, “Drop it.”
Just then, Y/n walks in while clutching her hand, her face scrunched up, “I need a bandaid asap.” Charles stands quickly and grabs the first aid kit from a cabinet, “Your girlfriend pushed me off the boat!” She points to Pierre who cringes.
She’s soaking wet, her hair dripping water onto the floor as she crosses her legs. She's in a red bikini and I think I might faint.
I instantly feel bad when I remember her hand is bleeding and i’m just checking her out. Kika runs in, “I’m so sorry, Y/n!”
Y/n just shakes her head, walking over to the kitchen and washing off her hand, wincing at the pain, “Don’t worry It’s just a scratch, i’m just joking.”
I stand and walk over, looking over the sink to get a better look at her hand. She’s got a cut along the side of her hand, bloody and sort of gross. “You sure you’re okay?”
She nods without saying anything, just turning to Charles who has his kit ready.
I bite my lip and sort of awkwardly walk towards Carlos who’s already watching me. “The fuck did you do?”
⋆༺
YOU
Besides my little incident with my hand, I’m having a great time.
Charles drives us to a secluded area with caves which you can swim in. I personally stay out in the open air but Rebecca, Pierre, Charles, and Alexandra check them out.
I sit in a tube with my head tilted back and my hair floating around me. My stomach and chest are warm while my back is cold against the water.
Someone dives in near me and I can hear my laughing as they jump and flip off the boat. I regret opening my eyes as soon as I do because I catch Lando back flipping off the boat.
It’s one of those moments where I don’t remember why I don’t like him. I suppose that’s not as true now, but seeing him flip off is still hot as hell.
I end up dunking and swimming back to the boat, sitting on the back where my feet dangle in the water. I know Lando’s the one walking down and sitting next to me before I see him.
“Hey.” He sounds nervous and quick.
“Hi.” I stand and walk up the stairs, screwing up my face and mentally yelling at myself. I hide in the kitchen, grabbing some fruit before venturing out to sit with Lily and Alex.
They’re all cuddled up and giggling so I spare them my company and sit at the table on the side of the boat.
The music is quiet and I can hear my friends talking across the boat. I bite into a strawberry and stare at the water below.
My anxiety is through the roof and i’m on a boat in fucking turkey. I’m annoyed that Lando just being near me is making me on edge.
As if he heard me, his head pokes out from behind the door, his hair wet and his eyes shining. “We’re gonna take off soon. Might wanna hold on cause of Charles’ driving.”
“Ok.” It’s like I can’t control my feet. I just stand and walk past him, giving him a quick smile and leaving him.
I then interrupt Alex and Lily, loudly stepping down the steps so they sit up. I hear everyone else getting out of the water and Lily can tell something wrong immediately.
“Could you get me some water?” She turns to Alex who gives her a quizzical look.
“You can’t do it yours-” She gives him another look which he immediately understands. Alex leaves quickly and Lily hurries over to me. I sit with my knees to my chest as she puts her hand on my arm.
“What happened? For real this time, what’s wrong?”
I look up at her, our friends walking past and up to the kitchen. I try to say it but I just groan and shove my face into my knees, “Y/n!”
I mumble it but she pokes my face so I look back up at her. I take a breath and force it out, “Lando kissed me.” And then she screams.
I shove my hand over her mouth so fast that her scream is muffled. We practically wrestle as she tries to get my hand free, “Lily!” She licks my hand and I gasp, pulling it off her.
“I’ll stop! I’ll stop!” She shuts her mouth and sits on her feet, staring at me, “We saw him last night… He looked drunk and completely in a different world.”
I groan into my hands, laying back on the cushion, “We were drunk! Sort of… We had a great day and it was actually fun like the type of thing friends do.” she nods at my words, “But then we were on the beach drinking and joking and he just… kissed me.”
Lily leans in, whispering, “Did you kiss him back?”
I bite my lip at the memory, nodding slowly. She screams again. I lay face down on the cushion as she taps my shoulder repeatedly and the boat starts to move. “Was it like a peck or make out?”
My cheeks get red so she already knows the answer, “Who stopped it?”
“Me? I think.”
“Did you like it?”
“Yes… God, Lily!” she’s smiling at me again, “He’s a good kisser. Also please don’t tell anyone! Especially the girls. I just don’t want it getting around or making anything awkward.”
“Of course I won’t! Even Alex, I promise.” she attaches her pinky to mine and grins, “I have so many questions and we will talk about this later but I have one thing I need to ask.”
I sigh, “Go ahead.”
“Do you want it to happen again?” I think I'm going to be sick.
⋆༺
LANDO
I find Lily and Y/n at the front, Y/n looks panicked at my appearance. “Can I talk to you?” She looks at me, then Lily.
I actually think she’s going to jump off the boat to avoid talking to me. But instead she goes for a quicker route, “I gotta pee.” I roll my eyes as she runs inside, slipping a bit at the wet deck.
Lily and I both watch her run, she just blinks and shrugs, “Good luck with that one.” She probably told Lily and it’s making me ultra aware that she knows I kissed her friend.
I settle back inside on the couch, listening to Charles tell a story while my eyes are completely distracted by Y/n laughing with her friends and eating raspberries.
I need to talk to her. She’s got a good poker face when she isn’t blushing and it’s practically impossible to get her alone.
“What about you, Lando? The only single one left!” Alex laughs and nudges my arm.
I laugh awkwardly, “Right.” I know the girls can hear this and I don’t want it to continue.
“So… how many models are you talking to?” Carlos asks as I scratch the back of my neck.
I shift my gaze to Y/n, who’s looks frustratingly good with her back arched, her elbows on the counter, and her eyes trying not to meet mine.
I run my tongue over my teeth and look back at Carlos, “You really wanna make that joke when your girlfriends a model, Sainz?” His face drops immediately and he punches my arm.
Charles and Pierre are crying laughing, “You two really wanna laugh?” They shut up real quick which makes me hear Y/n’s laugh.
It makes me smile and as soon as I realize why, I stop. “What about that girl you were debating on bringing?” Pierre snaps back fast.
“Hey, I was drunk and-”
“Pussy whipped!” Pierre coughs as Kika throws a raspberry at his head.
My friends start a new conversation (per the girls request) and move it out to the deck, Charles and Pierre arguing in french while they drive. I watch Y/n excuse herself and slip inside, and I follow.
I corner her outside the bathroom, her hands brushing through her half dried hair. She freezes, “Excuse me.”
She tries to walk past but I don’t let her. “Did I overstep?” She looks at me confused still, “Because I feel like an asshole.”
“No… You didn’t overstep.”
I groan, placing my hand next to her head against the wall, “So then talk to me.”
She crosses her arms, “I don’t want to.”
“Tough shit. You kissed me back.”
“I wish I didn’t.” She’s not looking me in my eyes and I haven’t been able to forget how she kissed me so I know she’s lying.
I step closer, “Try again, pretty.”
She looks up at me, her mouth pouty and her eyes big. “It was a mistake…”
I frown, “Mistakes can happen more than once.”
“Not this kind.” She lets out a breath, “I can’t stand you.”
“So use me.”
She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Y/n bites her lip and it takes everything in me not to physically whine. “You’re not mine to use.”
“I’m offering.”
“I’m rejecting.” that hurts way more than I expected.
“I’ll get on my knees.” Her hand goes to my arm that’s braced against the wall, her touch is soft and makes me weak.
I swallow and she clocks it instantly. “Go on, then.” I think I'm dreaming, but I’m not one to pinch myself.
I slowly sink to my knees, my hand trailing down the side of her body. I didn’t think she’d say yes. Right here? Where anyone could find us? I’ve never been more down for anything in my entire life.
She smiles, cute and innocent as if i’m not kneeling in front of her. God she’s beautiful. Her tanned leg moves to my shoulder and just as I think she’s about to pull me in, she shoves me back down.
I stare at her from my new place on the floor, her smile much wider now. She gets down to my level as I try to pull myself back up, she pushes me back down. “In your dreams, Norris.”
I breathe out as she walks up the stairs, my view cushioning the embarrassment I feel, “Trust me, you will be.”
⋆༺
YOU
My lovely friends have decided to have another lovely couples night. I honestly am excited to have a moment of peace after today's day.
I get all dressed up in my favorite outfit. A red cocktail dress that fits like a glove, white heels, and my hair wavy and salty.
I’m in a great mood, it’s the type of mood where i’m avoiding everything but am by the ocean so I can’t be sad! Everything is nice and well until I get turned away at the restaurant.
It’s the one place close to the hotel that I haven’t been, “I’m sorry, there just isn’t any table for tonight.”
So it appears that every single person has decided to settle down and wallow in self pity at this restaurant, “Please!”
“I’m sorry, we just can’t have you sit unless you have another-”
I hear him swear before I see him. He’s dressed up too, arguing with another waiter as he sets eyes on me, “Great.”
Lando’s face below me flashes in my mind as he looks at me as if he wishes I was anybody else, “I’ll eat with her.”
“Don’t seem so happy.” I cross my arms, my clutch in my hand as he walks closer.
“My beautiful date.” The word beautiful makes me drop my annoyed expression and I'm lucky he’s looking at the hostess, “One table, for two, please.”
We’re shown our table, given water and ordered drinks, but I refuse to talk first. Lando seems to have the same idea, sipping his drink and looking out at the dark water.
Still, He clears his throat and looks at me. His jacket is hung over the chair, a curl falling just perfectly down, and with his green eyes in the moonlight, he looks like a prince.
“Have a good day, pretty?”
“Are you small talking me now, Norris?”
His brow quirks as he brings his glass to his lips, “You’ve been ignoring me all day, what else am I supposed to say? Would you rather me beg?”
Maybe I would. “I saw Kika push you into the water today. You hit your head?” I fake pity, pouting.
“I must have because suddenly I'm imagining a very pretty girl run her very pretty hands through my hair.” He sits up straighter, “Hm… must be the head injury.”
I thought I would be more upset because of our dining situation. But I find myself smiling as he teases me. We order and he does the oddest thing… he starts asking me about my life.
“I know you. I’ve been around you. I’ve kissed you. Yet I don’t even know where you live.” I’m surprised but should I be? Just because I didn’t like him, doesn’t mean I didn’t laugh at his jokes.
So we start talking. And for about an hour and a half, it’s all we do. We talk with a side of food and a beautiful view. We talk about Formula 1, we talk about my work, we talk about my hair, we talk about his family.
He asks me about my pets and he doesn’t complain when I make a jab at his food which is plain as can be.
It’s the first time that I really believe we could be friends. It’s when I truly see the potential that my friends have seen. “We were too alike.” I snap my fingers together, swirling my pasta, “That’s why I hated you.”
“So you hated yourself? That’s quite harsh, pretty.” He’s finished his food, and is lounging in his chair. The restaurant is almost empty, we could sit wherever we’d like and leave too, but I keep talking.
“No. I mean you just clashed with me because two of the same personality is too much.”
“I think I think ‘too much’. Has me enjoying our date.”
I shake my head, “Not a date.”
“Totally a date.” He winks and I drop the subject.
“I think I didn’t like you because I liked you.” He says it so casually that I almost don’t understand it.
“What?”
“I really like you.” He nods and I wonder how many glasses of wine he’s had, “Y/n, i’m not drunk. I’m just honest. Don’t freak out i’m not gonna get down on one knee…” this makes him smirk, “Or two!”
“You can’t just dislike someone because you fancy them!”
“I don’t fancy you! I just… like you. I like the way you are around me and I really liked messing with you. You’re easy to frustrate.”
“I am not!” He raises a brow and I shut my mouth.
“Let’s get going… everyone’s party already at the beach club. You wouldn’t want to miss your local lovers.”
“Um… are you dining and dashing? We have to pay.” He scoffs. Actually scoffs at me!
“I already did. Come on.” He takes my bag and walks out.
At my request, Mamma mia plays from his phone as we walk down the path next to the beach. I spin around with my heels in my hand and my hair in my face. “Why can’t I live on an island!?”
“Why can’t you?”
I eye him, “I’ll live on an island when you buy me one.”
“Woah- I bought you dinner and you just started to tolerate me… Save the island for next week.” I smile and almost trip over something that hisses.
“Aw!” I practically scream and kneel down to it. It’s a tiny cat, orange and brown and rubbing against my outstretched hand, “Oh my god!”
“It’s gonna bite you.” I just roll my eyes and tug at his pant leg to join me.
The cat takes to him immediately, rubbing up against his leg and clawing up to his chest. I laugh as it falls off and comes back to me, “Cutie…”
I scratch its ear with my nicely done nails which he clearly appreciates. He starts licking my hand and I wish I had something to feed him. A small smile settles on my lips as the cool breeze brushes back my hair.
I look up to see Lando staring at me. “I really did mean it, when I said you were beautiful.” I feel a little sick at his words. The good kind of sick. The butterflies kind of sick.
The cat runs away when someone joins us on the path and I stand with him, “We should hurry, party time.”
⋆༺
LANDO
She left her purse in my room. We were heading back and I had to put down my jacket so we stopped in my room.
She left her bag which explains why she’s standing at my door in a matching pajama set and hotel slippers on her feet
“I need my mints.” She pushes past me and looks around for it. I help her because I have no idea where she put it either.
She had guys buy her drinks all night. You have no idea how much it killed me to see them all over her as if she wasn’t having dinner with me an hour before.
“Your room is a mess.” she says as she tears apart my nicely made bed.
“You’re tipsy, huh?”
She giggles as I lean against the door frame. She falls on my bed and looks up at the ceiling, “Guys love me!”
I shake my head and yawn. I finally find her bag, it’s in the bathroom for some reason and when I come back into my room to hand her it, she’s passed out on my bed.
“Y/n!” I shake her a bit but she only slaps my hand away, “You are so close to being in the correct bed! I found your purse.”
Her eyes open slightly, then she rolls over and moans louder, “Shh!” Then she’s out like a light. I hear her soft breathing and rustling around as I give up and sit next to her.
“I’m not sleeping on the couch!” I tell her but I know she’s already asleep.
She looks oddly peaceful. She looks tan and happy, even asleep on my bed. I accept my fate quicker than I probably should have, “Goodnight, then, pretty.” Flipping off the lights and pulling the blanket over her, I slip next to her and push a pillow in between us.
I don’t want her to wake up screaming after all.
I see her outline in the dark, the weight of someone sharing my bed, and the smell of her perfume I know is going to be there tomorrow. I see her, and curse myself.
She really is beautiful.
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sophiethewitch1 · 11 months ago
Text
What We Want - Chpt. 5 - Meet The Adams Family
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In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
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The first thing you’d done when you woke up, still somehow in the Wayne manor, was pull out not-your phone and check the date. When it tells you that you are not, in fact, in some weird version of a time loop, you feel some measure of relief. The second thing you do is look your own damn name up on Google. There were over 3 million results. You have a Wikipedia page. If that hadn’t made you want to gag, the press from last night had you bumbling your way into the ensuite bathroom and puking into the toilet.
It’s still sitting on the bathroom floor, nauseous and achy and sweaty, your mouth washed out but still tasting foul, that you continue your research.
It’s just as you had suspected, your family was dead. Still dead. Well, shit. In the light of day, you supposed that made more sense. That there was no real reason to assume otherwise. You hadn’t for most of yesterday, but as soon as you’d thought that maybe there was a chance, your hopes had been dashed. Which was good, rip the bandaid off and all.
It was good. Things were good. They were fine, you were fine. You really wish you were a better liar.
Again you wash your mouth out. Root around the cabinets for some medical-grade mouthwash, do it again, and then you throw yourself into the shower. Again. You notice the soap smells like whoever’s clothes you stole. Refreshing and awakening, that mint and earth again. You think you can detect something floral in it too. It’s still masculine, but…
Wow, you are such a freak! You put down the fucking soap and manage to resist the urge to slam your head into the tiles. Your headache was bad enough already.
When you leave the bathroom, you glance at the door, and then down at your towel. Guess you’re stealing some more apparel. You find a Superman shirt, give it a judging glance, and then pick out a black T-shirt with ‘The Beatles’ across the front, and some sweatpants. You have to roll up the pant legs so you don’t trip and fall flat on your face.
One hand scrolling through Twitter and TikTok and Reddit and every single piece of social media you could find, getting the people’s source of news and you get the high overlords’ one when you turn on the huge TV attached to the wall. The remote kind of confuses you at first, but you manage to find the good ol’ Gotham news channel.
Immediately, you’re greeted by your miserable mascara-streaked face. You turn the TV off. You take a deep breath. Turn it back on. Luckily it’s not just you getting your private moment of trauma blasted open in the media. Your party had been filled with Gotham’s elite, after all. You weren’t the only rich idiot left crying by the side of the road.
You weren’t the only one who had to suffer. There had been twenty-eight casualties, in total. A small amount, considering the man behind the deaths. The Joker wasn’t known for his cleanliness. You tell yourself that, and yet still, you can’t make them just numbers. They’d been standing right next to you, after all. All in the same boat, all waiting for the axe to swing, secretly hoping you’re the one who lives to the next day. Only one of the party guests had been shot, and that’s because you think they’d personally pissed off the Joker. That’s what Twitter says, anyway. There were multiple video recordings of the altercation, and it didn’t look like he’d been the smartest banana in the bunch. The TV is a lot sweeter on the dead soul.
You feel sorry for all the dead. You still don’t think this rich heir should be the face you see, though. When you check his name, you find several forgotten assault cases. Assault, rape, just like that disappearing bastard had tried to do to you. That female janitor you’d seen shot had done more for this city than that guy ever had.
Did her family know? Did she have a family? Someone to mourn her? You’d never thought about that before. How many people out there wouldn’t have anyone to even remember them?
It’s none of your business, in the end.
After a whiles more research, you switch the TV off and tuck your cracked phone into the sweatpants. You know where your mother’s grave is, on the west side of the estate. Wikipedia knew all, which was now kind of creepy to you as it knew all about you as well. Really, you couldn’t believe it. Your mother, buried with the Waynes? You’d always thought she should find someone new, someone who’d appreciate her, unlike your father who had dipped as soon as Sam was born.
You couldn’t even remember the guy. Still, you remembered that he’d smelled bad and made your Mum do everything, and was just generally all around the worst choice for a husband.
But, Jesus Christ, Bruce Wayne? Absolute insanity. You had no idea how the two of them would’ve even met. Let alone fall in love and get married. Your mother was one of the loveliest women on earth but… they had absolutely nothing in common, other than having troublesome kids. And you hadn’t seen her getting lovey-dovey with the other PTA mums.
You walk out of the room you’ve borrowed and into the hallway. In the light of day, the Wayne manor is much less creepy, and you can find it in yourself to appreciate the antique space. Warm sunlight falls over dark oak furniture, illuminating your bare feet as you walk along the Persian rug. Your fingers trail along all the tiny little decorations, some annoying part of you demanding you leave traces of yourself behind. Your fingerprints dirty an old clock, a golden candelabra, a lamp and a tiny spinning globe.
You might’ve gotten lost in a place this huge if you couldn’t hear people’s voices floating down the halls. They were too far away for you to be able to tell what they were saying, but you could still hear them. They’re to the west, so you’re definitely going to have to go past them.
You follow the voices and eventually come to a stop in a hallway. You can smell food. Good, real food. The type that makes your instant-ramen-powered body salivate. The people are in the kitchen, right around the corner. You duck your head and quickly sneak past the mostly closed doorway. On the other side, you pause, your curious self unable to leave just yet.
“She needs help,” Bruce says, and you mentally curse. Balls. You didn’t want to hear this. You guess this was instant karma for snooping. Maybe they weren’t talking about you?
Why did that sound very unlikely…
“She went through a lot last night,” he continues, which, well, yes, you did go through a lot, “And he said that she saw a woman get shot right in front of her. It makes sense if she doesn’t want to talk yet.”
He? Who’s he? Who ratted you out? Wait, dumb question, the four other witnesses who saw the janitor get shot. You were still pretty sure the Waynes weren’t supposed to know that, but everybody knew those GCPD pigs were always just a dollar away from whatever you wanted them to do. It’s not surprising that the Waynes know details only the police should know at the moment.
…It is a bit disappointing, though. You chose to have hope in them, that they’d gotten that information legally. Your fatal obsession with the Waynes wasn’t going to disappear after one miserable party. You wished it would.
“She was acting strange before that,” Timothy Jackson Drake’s smooth voice drifts from the kitchen. You were still a little starry-eyed over him, which was… bad, you think. It’d definitely make whatever relationship the two of you had been forced into a whole lot more difficult. It did not need to be any more difficult.
“Are you accusing her of something?” Bruce Thomas Wayne’s voice is gravelly in comparison, angry, maybe. Also, ‘accusing’? What could he even be accusing you of? It was pretty obvious you weren’t capable of anything nefarious, you were far too stupid for that. You were a plastic bag drifting along the Gotham river, barely able to affect which direction you flowed in.
“God no. And I definitely wouldn’t do it with her listening, that’d be rude.”
Your breath hitches, and you push off from the wall. Busted, damn. Your face feels unbelievably hot. As you leave, you can hear Mr Wayne scolding his adopted son. You walk until you can’t hear their voices anymore, and then a little further, finding an exit door.
You stumble out onto a stone staircase, probably a servants’ one in the olden days. You move down it, hand gripping the railing. You’re barely conscious of where you’re going. There’s a path that leads away from the stone manor and further into the estate, and you follow it. When you spot a small gated area, with stone obelisks and angel statues, you veer off the path and onto the grass.
Hissing out a breath, it’s only now you realise you went outside without any shoes on. Your toes curl in the cold, wet grass. It’s a miserable feeling, and you want to walk right back inside. And then you think about the awkward conversation waiting for you, take a breath and keep going. The gates swing open easily under your hand, the golden embossed ‘W’ glinting in the light.
A guardian angel stands before you. Its stone face is disapproving, glaring down at you from above. ‘Interloper,’ it calls you, but you move past it without pausing. It’s pretty obvious which graves are the new ones and which are the old ones. They’re all clean and well-kept, but the ones to the left have dates going back hundreds of years, and the ones to the right only decades. Your eyes follow the rows of graves. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…
Your breath whistles out of you, nearly muffled by the grey morning wind.
And your mother. She has a different last name, now another Wayne. Your siblings don’t, which makes sense. You’re surprised to find many of your extended family also in this graveyard. Your grandmother. Your uncle and aunt. A few of your cousins.
It’s cold this morning, and you’re out here with only a thin T-shirt on. Shivering, you rub your palms against your bare arms. It doesn’t do much. Still, you don’t want to go inside yet. Instead, you crouch in front of Sam’s grave, eyes reading the tiny epitaph. It’s not the one you wrote.
‘Beloved Son and Brother.’
Simple, clean-cut, formal… unfamiliar, you suppose. Yours had been much more flowery, ‘All the colour in the world is gone without you’. It was a bit silly, but you’d never said you were a poet. You’d just known you’d wanted something that represented them, if poorly.
Sam was a beloved son and brother. But that wasn’t who he chose to be. He liked colours. He’d change his favourite every other day, so he liked everything rainbow. It made it easier to choose which one he’d like next, he said. You were always buying him more and more coloured pencils because he’d wear them all down to the tips, he dyed the cat a bright red headache, much to your mother’s horror, and considered it his personal job to make every single birthday, christmas, and easter card. He’d paint on the walls in washable markers, and you’d often been the one to volunteer to help him get it all down. In school, he always had the best art project out of the entire class, even if you were slightly biased.
He was a colourful kid. He wasn’t… a plain grey tombstone. Nothing to help remember him, because you were always losing more and more of their precious memories.
The others had similarly impersonal graves. Just what they were, not who. Mother, sister. Nothing that spoke of how they’d lived their lives, what the world had lost when they’d died. It was… you didn’t think it was right. It was a disaster, really. Even when you’d had to rely on the Wanye Foundation donations, you’d managed a better resting place than this.
You suppose you’d never gotten them into the Wayne family’s personal graveyard, though. That was a bit of an upgrade, you guess.
“You need to come back inside. You’re worrying my father.”
“Jesus Christ!” you shriek, leaping backward. Your foot catches on one of the cobblestones, and you end up tipping back farther than you mean to, your ass bruising against the ground. You bump another gravestone, and there’s a horrible moment where it gives a little and you think it’s going to knock over.
It doesn’t. A shining miracle on your day.
From your slightly wet seat on the ground, you look up, finding one such Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. His towering height is the first thing you notice, second his stunning emerald green eyes. Both were incredibly shocking in their own ways, but his height really was almost dizzying. Perfect brown skin and a stylish 'long on the top, short on the sides’ black haircut, paired with the sort of face some European model might have, all come together to make sure you feel as pathetic as possible. His posh-looking outfit doesn’t help.
Neither does the fact he just watches you. He doesn’t even pretend to bend over to help you up. Which you’re sort of grateful for, honestly. It’d just make you more embarrassed. You didn’t know if you could hold the hand of your celebrity crush and… well, be normal. Pretend to be normal. You weren’t doing a very good job of it anyway.
You have to wonder, which was the worst introduction? The drunk, the bloody, or the one where you fell on your ass? God, you really are screwing this all the way up. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to make it even worse. There’s a part of you that desperately doesn’t want to meet any of the other Waynes, even as another part of you is screaming that it needs to.
If they knew they had a fangirl in their graveyard, you’re sure they’d kick you out. That was why you were lying about everything, not because you had intimacy issues.
Stop thinking, you idiot! You’re only making things more difficult for yourself with all your worrying and fretting. And maybe you should get off the ground, you looked stupid. You push to your feet, wiping your dirtied hands on the sweats.
He still doesn’t say anything when you stand, still just staring at you. His open staring is far too intimidating, so you scrounge for something to say.
“Your father? You- Is he alright?” you stammer over your words, giving Damian Wayne an awkward smile. He doesn’t return it, instead canting his head towards one of the windows.
You look toward where Damian Wayne gestured to, find nothing but an empty window frame, and then back to the ridiculously tall man. You swear, the guy had grown like a bean pole. He had to be something ridiculous, like 6’5, or maybe more. You were fairly certain you’d been taller than him at twelve, or thirteen, whenever it was he was first introduced to the world as Damian Wayne. Now, now… not so much.
“There’s nobody in there?” you ask, like you’re questioning your sanity. You are.
“My father’s shy,” He says, coolly shrugging one shoulder.
What. Bruce Wayne? Shy? Was he joking or something?
Damian Wayne stares down at you with narrowed green eyes, and dark brows in a harsh frown. His arms are crossed over his rich kid sweater, shiny black shoes tapping against the cobbles. That’s not the face of someone who makes jokes, you think.
You swallow, mind whirring as you try desperately to fix this conversation, “Right. Okay. I’ll… I’ll come back inside, then. Sorry for bothering you guys.”
He keeps staring at you. He doesn’t seem bothered.
“Sorry for bothering him?” you correct.
Damian gives one slow, cat-like blink of his eyes, and then turns with a tsk and walks away. It takes you a moment to realise you’re meant to follow him. It takes you even longer to actually catch up with him because he’s so fucking tall.
On TV he didn’t look this tall. You feel kind of betrayed, which is weird.
As you’re walking along, getting closer back to the manor, a stick or something pokes you in the foot. You curse, grabbing your foot. Thankfully you don’t start bleeding or something. You’d already be tracking dirt all over the inside of the impeccable space, you didn’t want to bring blood in as well. It takes a moment for you to realise the sound of Damian’s footsteps crunching in the grass has stopped, and you glance up.
He’s staring right at you again. He looks even less impressed with you, raising an eyebrow and mouth ticking downward. You put your foot down and tuck your hands behind your back in a very obvious anxious display.
“You went outside not wearing any shoes?” Damian Wayne asks, incredulous.
“I was… yeah, I forgot to,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Not your best moment, but you weren’t really having any of those today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Maybe you should stop thinking about that, actually.
“That’s disgusting,” The young Wayne sneers, and then turns and gives you his shoulder.
You think your heart maybe cracks a little. Well, they do say to never meet your idols. Maybe whoever wrote that quote had you in mind specifically, because now you were in… this situation. Ex-step-sister. If that was a thing. Your Wikipedia page said that you said that a lot, very insistent that you had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes.
…It didn’t really look like you had nothing to do with the Waynes, from an outsider's perspective. Which obviously didn’t make any sense, since you were… you. You were not an outsider, not anymore.
This was too complicated. You needed a coffee. With like, so much sugar it’ll make you bounce from the walls.
Damian strides up the side entrance’s staircase and through the door, leaving it open for you to follow through. You hesitate at the doorway, looking over your shoulder to the graveyard. The statue calls you names in the distance, and although you feel like a stranger who doesn’t belong here, you manage to step back into the house.
You force yourself to walk through the hallway and into the kitchen, fists clenched tight at your side and your shoulders bunched up to your ears. Bruce Thomas Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake, and the butler from earlier. Damian Al Ghul Wayne steps around the trio, picking some drink from the counter and moving to sit at the dining table at the edge of the room. There’s an open book on the table that he starts flicking through, and well, apparently that’s the end of your first conversation with the youngest Wayne.
You did… well, alright might be pushing it. You're still going to say you did alright.
Tim Drake gives you a sweet smile, catching your attention. The silky raven hair of his heart-shaped fringe falls over his beautiful, pale face, and for a moment there you totally forget that he’d called you out earlier like that. Which was just, such an odd thing to do. His hand lifts to scratch at the buzz cut under the floppy strands of hair. The movement mesmerises you. You look away from his sky blue eyes, very quickly realising they’re robbing you of the few remaining brain cells you have. And you need those, damn it. Especially because you’d already made the decision to hide from all your problems like a baby. Negative, negative…
“How’re you doing today?” Tim asks you, giving you a friendly greeting. It’s a welcome olive branch.
“I’m good,” you lie like you breathe, eyes glancing around the space. Bruce Wayne has his phone out and a mug of coffee in his hands. He sips from the cup, his focus swallowed by the tiny screen. You glance back over to Damian Wayne. Huh, it really does run in the family.
Your neck prickles, and you glance back at Tim again. You get a brief vision of his tired, unsmiling expression, and then it’s back to the angelic and gentle smile. You smile back at him, a wretched, awful twisting of the lips that you hope doesn’t look like a grimace.
Tim’s smile turns into a grin. It’s really too pretty and makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Damn it all, look away!
“Would you like some breakfast, young miss? I’m afraid we’ve run out of pancakes, but I’d be happy to make some more for you,” the butler says in an awfully familiar British accent. You think you know this person, but you can not remember from where. Shit. Your memory was bad on the best of days, much less after… after an event like last night.
Anyway, the food from earlier had been pancakes. Despite the delicious scent, you really didn’t want to make him make any more food for you. You felt like you were intruding as it was.
“Do you have any toast, or… cereal?” you suggest instead, wondering if rich people even bother with cereal. The butler chuckles, and you think, ‘Oh, yeah, probably not’.
“We have both, miss. Master Grayson has a particular fondness for cereal, in fact,” he informs you, which, oh, cool. You did in fact know that, you stalker you. You’d totally forgotten about that weird fact or the weird fact that you knew that weird fact. Dick Grayson has an Instagram where he posts reviews of different cereals, which of course you have notifications on for.
“It’s more of an obsession,” Tim says, resting his palm in his hand as he… continues to stare at you. Nobody else thinks his ogling is strange, so you try to ignore it as well. Try is the choice word.
“I like cereal too. It’s normal,” you say in defence of Dick, a natural and instinctual urge.
And apparently, the fact that you like cereal is fucking shocking, judging from the open-mouth looks the group gives you. Oh no, you’re supposed to hate him, right? You’re supposed to hate them all, actually. What had you called him on your phone? Something about being annoying and a dickhead?
Swallowing your inner scream, you move around the counter and towards the cupboards. Whatever, they’ll have to deal with this new and improved version of you, which didn’t despise everyone in the room. Along with being a terrible liar, you were also pretty bad at keeping secrets.
You don’t want to think about that, so instead you turn to Alfred.
“So,” you start, “Can I see your cereal collection?” you ask, like a totally normal person. Man, this cupboard’s looking pretty head-smashable right now.
This family has more tact than yours did, because they all manage to put their eyes back to what they were doing and pretend you weren’t acting really, really out of character. Rich people. They’re good at overlooking the crazy.
“Of course,” the butler clears his throat, “In here, you’ll find Master Dick’s collection-” score! Not another fan can claim this right, “-and in the fridge a carton of milk. Are you sure I couldn’t serve it for you, miss? I understand you might still be a little…”
His voice trails off. Little what?
He glances at the others and then leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. Behind a hand, he whispers, “Hungover.”
Ah. Well, yes, but you were a big girl who could make her cereal, even on hangover days. Kind of embarrassing it was that obvious, though. You were usually better at hiding how much of a mess you were.
“I’ll be fine, thank you,” you say, and the butler nods and backs off. You’re pretty sure at this point that he was the one who called you yesterday morning, but you still couldn’t quite recall his name. When you were out of sight, you’d check your phone for his contact information.
See? You could do this. Stealthy.
As you start perusing through the cereal options, Tim gets up from his spot by the counter and comes to stand next to you at the breakfast bar. He heads straight to the coffee machine, and you glance at it longingly.
It’s one of those cafe-quality fancy espresso makers, with an Italian name embossed in silver on the top. Tim manipulates the machine like a master, which you’re very jealous of because it might as well be alien technology to you. You miss your shitty drip coffee, at least that dingy little machine was loyal to you. Better than George.
“Coffee?” Tim Drake offers, glancing at you. Ah, the starry eyes are back. While Damian Wayne had been a mildly disappointing introduction, Mr. Drake was just reinforcing your celebrity worship. And of course, because your brain works against you, his offer reminds you of the daydreams you’d had on your first twenty-first birthday. Coffee shop au real person fiction- a new low, even for you.
Flustered, you look up at the ceiling. The old mansion is decorated in every single available corner, the plaster above spreading across the entire surface with delicate filigree and pretty curling patterns. It’s gorgeous, absolutely entrancing. That’s what you tell yourself at least.
“Please,” you say, your voice just the slightest bit too quiet. He hears you anyway.
It’s surprisingly domestic. Of course, you don’t know any of these people past face value and Wired YouTube interviews, but… it’s quite indulgent. This is sort of your dream, isn’t it? A full house of people enjoying their morning together. Peaceful bird song drifting in through open windows. The comfort of being around people you trust, not having to perform or put on a show. Well, you are very much putting on a show right now. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.
“What would you like in it? We have sugar, milk, oat milk, and I like having a few syrups on hand,” Tim chatters excitedly, listing off the different ingredients he has on offer. Your poor ass stares at his rich one, and you are very rudely reminded these people live in different tax brackets than you.
Who the fuck had coffee syrups in their house? You could barely afford the little treats of caramel syrup you get every couple of months. The disappearance of the middle class was one you had witnessed personally.
You rattle off a very basic, bland order. Tim looks sort of disappointed in you which… well, you could be a coffee snob. You just didn’t have the time, usually. A flat white kept you going through the day, you didn’t need anything else. And so, Tim hands you a very bland coffee, and it is god sent. You can’t imagine how good it would be if you had mustered up your courage and asked for some caramel syrup.
Huh, you could be a coffee snob. You could be anything you wanted, really. And your first thought is being a coffee snob. Good God.
“Are you going to be staying?“ Bruce Wayne asks, immediately putting you on the spot. You weren’t ready for this, you were thinking about the coffees you could buy. Oh no, you really aren’t ready for this.
“At least for now, right?” Tim Drake says, just making it all the more stressful. You let out an awkward chuckle, fingers tight around your drink.
“Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”
Damian Wayne slams his mug down on the table, so hard a crack splinters up its side. He picks the cup up, strides across the kitchen, narrowed green eyes meeting yours for a second, and then he dumps the cup in a secret rubbish can. He murmurs an apology to the butler and then is out of the room.
Okay, well, you certainly feel like an inconvenience.
The butler clears his throat, and says, “Please forgive young master Damian. He’s been having a difficult time recently, I hope you can understand.”
And you think, ‘bitch, a difficult time?! He’s not the one who almost died last night!’ but what you say is, “Of course, I completely understand. I don’t want to bother him anymore so I’d really like to leave today.”
Mr. Wayne laces his fingers together, blue eyes giving you an assessing look.
“Stay for the day, and you can leave tonight. I want to make sure you’re truly alright,” he eventually says, and the mere presence of the man has you yielding to his commands. Didn’t really matter you were an adult who’d managed to survive this long on your own, you were listening to the big scary guy when he told you what to do.
Well, that’s that! You make your cereal and have a very quiet breakfast. You can’t tell if they’re being quiet because you’re here, or if mornings are usually like this. You hope they’re usually like this. Once you’ve finished your very nice cereal (one of the highest rated on Dick’s Instagram) you place the bowl by the sink. You want to wash it, but when you ask Alfred he gives you a look like you kicked his dog. Okay, you’ll just go then.
You’re about to sneak away, when you realise Tim’s staring at you… again…? But this time he seems quite focused on your clothing. His eyes follow the double lines on the side of your sweatpants, before settling on the Beatles logo on your shirt. He hums at it. Raises his brows.
“I’m sorry, I borrowed this because I didn’t have any other clothes. Is there something wrong with me wearing this?” you ask, and then experience a moment of horror, “This doesn’t belong to you, does it?”
“Hmm?” Tim chirps, “Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not mine.”
And then he turns away from you in a very clear dismissal. Nice, you really wanted to go hide for an hour or two. With one last awkward wave to Bruce Thomas Wayne, you scurry out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom you’d started thinking of as yours. You need to figure out how you're going to handle all this, and you're going to do it alone. Maybe with some dessert, if you can find it. You wouldn't say you think better with sugar running in your veins, but it definitely makes you more willing to deal with the bullshit that is your life. Hopefully it'd work in your new one, too.
-
Tim listens to your retreating footsteps, waiting till you’re far enough away to begin talking to Bruce. Humans were creatures of habit, so you’d probably be going back to the same room you slept in last night. He thinks Damian and him were the only ones who noticed whose shirt you were wearing, B’s off his game today. You’ve really managed to mess him up, to Tim’s delight.
“See? Dames was totally fine with her being here,” Tim says, cheerily enjoying his youngest sibling’s suffering. Bruce sighs, witheringly, lifting his hand to rub against the headache he always has. He’s probably noticed the excited, slightly fanatic gleam that’s entered into Tim’s eyes.
It was sort of obvious. This was all so exciting! You’d come back, sporting absolutely none of the defensive vitriol you usually have, and ate breakfast together. You took a coffee out of Tim’s hands. You’d willingly spoken to the devil, who everybody in the family knew hated you as much as you hated him, and even more than that-
You’d spoken to Bruce. Tim was sporting the idea that you’d gotten head trauma, at this point in time.
“Okay, fine. You get the mission, but-” Tim has to resist the urge to clap his hands together like a gleeful child “-but no extra cameras. I’m serious, Tim, if I find out you’ve invaded her privacy just after she’s starting to warm up to us again-”
“She wouldn’t know,” Tim complains, cutting the Bat off with a roll of his eyes.
“She’s smarter than you’d think,” Bruce shakes his head. Tim has to disagree, after the catastrophe that was last night. Unless of course, you were just playing with them all. So many options, it’s dizzying.
“We’ll shelve that argument for later. So, I want full control of the case, and in turn, I’ll do another two weeks as CEO,” Tim waves off Bruce’s complaints, going straight into haggling. The CEO position was tossed between the two of them like a hot potato, and it was one of Tim’s favourite bargaining tools.
“I am absolutely not agreeing to that, a month and nothing less.”
“This is why half your children don’t talk to you, but sure, whatever. Chase away your last, loyal loving son-”
“My God, Tim. Three fucking weeks, and if I hear another word I will hand this matter over to Grayson,” Bruce sighs, sounding a bit defeated.
Tim gives an offended gasp, placing his hand against his chest. And then he realises Bruce might actually be serious, and freaks out a bit.
“He’d be bad for it. Far too personally involved. You definitely don’t want to do that,” he says, leg bouncing under the table. Of course, the Bat notices, but he doesn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this from Tim, they both knew he was getting too frazzled around the edges. He needed something to focus on, to ground him.
You were the perfect project. He loved his projects.
“I am aware. But the girls are out of town, and uncontactable. And I think if I gave Damian this assignment the two of them would kill each other.”
“No Jason option, sir?” Tim says because he’s a shit-stirrer and wants to get to work.
Tim succeeds in chasing Bruce away. He’s left to have his coffee in peace as the old man quickly flees the room at the mention of the son he's on the worst terms with. For the next few hours, Tim taps away on his computer, enjoying his time.
And when the front doors open, his ears prick, and a decidedly evil grin spreads on his face.
“I’m home!” Dick calls out, words travelling through the grand manor.
Tim gets up from his seat and wanders leisurely to the main hall, where Dick stands. He’s got a suitcase by his side, filled with all the things he’s brought up from the Blud. When he spots Tim, Dick’s face spreads in a familiar sunny smile. He quickly rushes to Tim’s side, swallowing the younger brother in a hug. Tim groans at the tight squeezing.
Despite his clinginess, it was good to see him. His tanned skin glowed healthily, and his curly black hair was messy over his brow. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled. He was happy to be home, despite everything that was going on. Dick always looked like he’d just gotten back from a run because he usually had. It was hard to get the guy to sit still for even a minute, much less stop parkouring over every imaginable surface.
“Tim! How’s it been? Ah, it’s so good to be home,” Dick starts, and again, Tim groans. When Dick starts yammering he never stops.
“I’m good, man. We can talk later, you should go put your things away before Alfred does,” Tim reminds Dick, and Dick pouts. It was a general rule that unless it was cooking, the family wasn’t supposed to rely on Alfred for everything.
“Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a minute! I have so much to tell you,” Dick relents, hand lifting to mess with his hair. Tim pushes him off, glaring at the man, and Dick laughs.
Tim gives Dick a tired wave as the gymnast bounds up the stairs to his bedroom. Tim watches him disappear down the hallways, and thinks, ‘I wish I could see this happen.’ He sighs, guess he’ll just have to hear Dick retell the story later. The distant sound of your shrieking voice has him chuckling. Yeah, he’ll hear about it later, he’s sure.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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avocado-writing · 11 months ago
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Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3
oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence
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Astarion
stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground
you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?
”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.
he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight
tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌
Wyll
we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship
you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively
when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword
you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!
you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏
Gale
we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.
you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.
so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him
“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”
gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.
Karlach
is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol
roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf
she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”
”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”
her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss
“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”
Shadowheart
you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol
you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens
“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips
“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting
does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌
Lae’zel
“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”
she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.
has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops
afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️
Halsin
you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.
he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.
you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite
always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!
plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕
Minthara
her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.
you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword
you can’t help the words falling from your lips.
she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:
”good.”
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luvsupa · 4 months ago
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a/n: writing this bc uni just started for me and I hope this happens to me in class </3 (minus the embarrassing part)
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choso sat in the back of the lecture hall, his oversized headphones blasting music so loud you could hear the faint beat, despite being seated right next to him. you tried to focus on the professor up front, but the heavy metal practically vibrated through your brain. with a huff, you paused your typing, your long acrylic nails hovering above the keys, and turned to look at him—now admiring his looks.
his head bobbed along with the music, thick fingers scribbling notes on his large ipad. his hands were adorned with chrome heart rings, matching perfectly with his facial piercings, and every time you saw him, he had on new jewelry that just made him… more attractive. this time, instead of his usual two buns, his hair was down, cascading past his shoulders. god, he looked good like that. you really wanted to tell him to keep his hair down more often, but just being near him made your heart race too fast to even speak.
he was all dressed in black, chunky doc martens completing his look, and you hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring at him until he paused his music, sliding one side of his headphones off to look at you. your heart stopped.
“is my music too loud?” he asked softly, his voice catching you completely off guard. it was… sweet? you blinked, your laptop screen dimming as it fell asleep, just like your focus.
“just a bit,” you mumbled, watching as he grabbed his phone, sliding down the volume with a smile that made your body melt.
“i like you…” the words slipped out before you could stop them.
choso froze, one hand halfway to his headphones, looking at you like you’d just confessed. which… you basically did.
“i-i mean, i like your outfit!” you squeaked, heat flooding your body as your hands became sweaty as you mentally slapped yourself. choso just stared, eyebrows raised.
“n-not that i wouldn’t like you!” you scrambled to explain, your voice lowering to avoid the stares from the people sitting nearby. “i-it just slipped out, i swear!”
choso’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he fully took off his headphones, leaning in slightly as if to hear you better. why not tease her, he thinks
“ohh, i see. so, you wouldn’t like me, huh? that’s a little harsh.” his voice took on a mock-hurt tone, but the teasing glint in his eyes was undeniable.
you gasped, totally falling for it. “no! i didn’t mean it like that! cho’, i’m so—”
wait.
you froze. did you just call him “cho’”? you definitely had never exchanged names, much less nicknames! your face drained of colour as choso smirked, clearly enjoying your panic.
“cho’?” he raised a brow, his lip piercing catching the light. “didn’t know we were close like that.” he chuckled, low and teasing. “but i don’t mind. it’s cute.”
you wanted to melt into the floor. the secondhand embarrassment from the other students was evident, and your heart was pounding too hard to think straight. you shot up from your seat, nearly knocking over your bag in your rush to escape. all eyes were on you as you bolted out the back of the classroom, face burning with mortification.
you sprinted to the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind you as you leaned against the sink. “oh my gosh,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. he was totally going to think you were a stalker now. you’d found his instagram before it went private, and you’d seen his younger brother yuji calling him “cho’” in the comments. you were doomed.
meanwhile, back in the classroom, choso couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. he found your flustered state adorable—he didn’t think you were creepy at all. in fact, he wished you’d stayed a little longer so he could keep teasing you. with a soft chuckle, he tore a piece of paper from his artbook from his bag and scribbled down his number quickly as he placed the torn paper on your laptop.
“you can always call me cho’ ;)”
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simp4wom3n · 1 year ago
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Why Don't I Know You?
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Requested: Yes/No ~ How about Regina having a crush on the reader but not saying anything bc she thinks the reader won't like her, but when the reader starts talking to her and everything, Regina is suddenly possessive ykwis
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Summary: Shocked when a face she doesn't recognise shows up in her class, Regina makes it her goal to learn everything about them, even if it leads to her gaining a massive crush. ~ Word Count: 4.1k ~ Warnings: lotta swearing, one slur, otherwise mainly fluff
A/N: HI!!! FIRST RENEE/REGINA FIC!!! she is criminally underwritten, so I thought I would do my part (other people pls do right for her I need stuff to read). I love her so so much, and I had a blast writing this, so pls enjoy <3 + I will be creating a Renee rapp taglist so comment or message me if you wanna be on it :)
The halls of North Shore High were like a second home to Regina. Some would call it her hunting ground. Each year, she relished her opportunity to prowl the hallways, hunting the new freshman as she committed every new face and name to mind, with the intention of digging up all the dirt she possibly could. With thanks to Gretchen, she knew everything about everyone.
But then there was you.
"Alright, we have a new student joining us today."
Regina's eyes widened in pure shock as you walked into the room. With your bag casually slung over your shoulder, you make a beeline for the empty tables surrounding Regina. Ignoring the intensity of her gaze, you drop your bag and settle into the chair next to her. The faint strains of music emanated from the headphones hanging from your ears as you began organizing your belongings, only to be interrupted by the teacher.
"Y/n, if you could please stand and introduce yourself."
Your eyes flicked nervously towards the teacher, and the entire class turned to look at you. The intensity of Regina's gaze made your cheeks glow with a faint red before you sighed dejectedly and reluctantly stood up, pulling out your headphones.
"Um... Hi, I'm Y/n... not really much else to say."
The teacher nodded at you before turning around to start the lesson. Watching as you sat down, Regina's focus shifted entirely to you.
She couldn't tell whether it was because she knew nothing about you, or that you were just so damn hot.
Maybe it was both.
As soon as the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Regina wasted no time storming off to find Gretchen. Having watched you for the entirety of the class, she was desperate to find out everything about you.
Strutting through the packed hallway, everyone staring at her in fear, Regina locked onto her target as she came into her view. "Gretchen!" she called irritatedly. The small girl quickly turned around as her eyes widened in fear. "Tell me... How is it that I don't know anything about this new Junior, Y/n? Why wasn't I informed? I need all the details now!"
Gretchen, scrambling to keep up with Regina's relentless pace, stammered out an apology. "I-I'm sorry, Regina! I didn't even know they were coming."
"God, you are useless!"
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In only a week, not only had watching you become her routine, but she had even started to develop a crush on you, as painful as that was for her to admit.
She was supposed to be chased, not the one chasing.
Seeing you had become the favourite part of her day, even above having the whole school bow at her feet. She hadn't even talked to you. She just watched.
She meticulously studied your every move, subconsciously committing all of your subtle mannerisms to memory. Like the way you would take notes, or the way you would nibble at your fingers when you were focused. Or her personal favourite, when you knawed at the end of your pencil when you were nervous or stressed.
Fuck, she wishes she was that pencil.
She hated to admit it, but the thought of talking to you terrified her. Her usually overbearing confidence drained away whenever you sat in the chair next to her, your mysterious yet comforting presence causing her to malfunction.
And yet, as she sat at lunch with Gretchen and Karen, she refused to mutter a word about you to them. The furthest they pushed was when Gretchen asked about you after catching Regina staring at you, and the look Regina gave the poor girl made her shut up immediately.
The lunch tables were packed as usual, but Regina's eyes scanned the hallway beside them. She was well aware that you never sat at any of the tables, so she patiently waited for you to return to your locker, which was conveniently placed within sight of her table.
Karen and Gretchen's incessant babbling went unnoticed as you finally appeared. She couldn't help but notice your slouched posture and sluggish movements. You looked exhausted. Your headphones, which you always had on you, dangled from one ear as you forcefully opened your locker.
As if she wasn't already concerned, the table of varsity jocks had also noticed you, taking your clearly irritated mood as a green light to push even more of your buttons. From across the room, Regina watched with a clenched jaw as three of them stood from the table and made their way towards you.
Her body ached with anger as she watched them grab you by the shoulder and throw you against the lockers. Your exhausted expression turned to one of fear as they held you up against the cold metal doors. The guy forcefully snatched your headphones away, callously tossing them to the ground and obliterating them with a single forceful step.
Regina choked on a gasp. She knew how much you loved those headphones.
She was annoyingly out of earshot as she watched them continue to laugh at and berate you whilst shaking you against the lockers. Her blood was boiling. The others had noticed her expression and cast confused glances towards the commotion, which only confused them more.
The Regina they knew would be laughing.
After Regina's next victims finally let you go, your body shook as you realised that the whole school had just watched you get shamelessly belittled. As soon as your gaze locked with Regina's, your embarrassment grew unbearable, triggering you to hastily get your belongings before moving to make a swift escape.
The last Regina saw of you, you were frantically running away, desperately trying to hide your state as tears streamed down your face.
Those jocks had no idea what was coming for them.
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The next time she laid eyes on you was the week after. She had already exacted her revenge on the jocks, having called their parents and telling them they all had STDs, yet when she caught sight of your weary expression as you entered the classroom, the familiar sense of triumph eluded her.
As the lesson passed and the teacher blabbered about a new group project, Regina's eyes never left you as you buried yourself in your notebook.
"Ok, listening, please." the teacher announced, garnering both of your attention. "The groups are as follows," you patiently waited for your name to be read out so you could go back to absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your book, whilst Regina similarly waited to hear the name of the poor soul who would be stuck with her. Yet, to her surprise, she wasn't disgusted by the name read beside hers.
"Y/n and Regina,"
With eyes wide and fixed on the teacher, Regina failed to notice the sudden blush that crept onto your cheeks, causing you to quickly lower your head. "You have the rest of the lesson to plan." the teacher mumbled before returning to their desk, where they sat silently.
Neither of you moved. After a second of secretly hoping Regina would make her move, you figured she wasn't interested in you or the project. Opening your computer and immediately diving into research, Regina sat at her desk, trying to build the courage to talk to you.
God, she hated being a coward.
After a few minutes and a few internal pep talks, she decided to take her one excuse to talk to you as she finally scooted her desk towards yours and turned to face you. As she inched closer, your heart began to race, sensing her gaze fixed on you. With a bashful smile, you diverted your attention from your screen and finally made eye contact with her.
She was breathtaking.
Clearing your throat, you quickly turned back to your computer as you scratched the back of your neck. "I-I'll just do it all when I get home," you spoke nervously, presuming THE Regina George would want nothing to do with you or the project.
"What makes you think I'd make you do it alone," she retorts, her tone more flirtatious than she had intended, but she wasn't mad about it. You looked back at her, lost for words for a second as you tried to scramble together a response.
"Well... I-I just presumed you wouldn't want to help." A small smile formed on her lips as you briefly glanced at her, "I mean, you hardly pay attention, so I just... figured." She softly giggles at your words, her laughter sending a flutter of excitement through your body.
Little did you know she was distracted by you.
"Come to mine later. We can do it together." Regina's unexpected display of confidence caught both of you off guard as her usual flirtatious demeanour made a comeback. Meanwhile, you stared at her in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened. "Ugh... Yeah, sure, if that's ok?"
"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't"
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As the school bell rang through the corridors, you were overwhelmed with both relief and anxiety. After enduring a tedious day at school, you were now faced with the terrifying task of not only talking to Regina but also spending hours alone with her at her house.
Walking out the doors and towards the car park, the sound of the bustling school fading into the background, your eyes catch a familiar blonde leaning up against her Jeep. Your heart began to race faster as you approached her, your bag feeling heavier with each step.
Her expression softened as she noticed you approaching, a warm smile gracing her lips, and she pushed herself off her car. "Hey," she greets softly, a soft shade of pink painting her cheeks as you both smile at each other. "Hi," you said breathlessly with a small chuckle.
Without another word, Regina moves to get in, and you follow suit, chucking your bag into the backseat next to hers before climbing into the passenger seat.
The breeze gently tousled your hair as you drove to her house, the soothing tunes of music filling the air, matching the nervous excitement between you both. Your heart beat along with the music as you snuck glances at the girl sitting next to you. With her eyes focused on the road and the wind softly brushing her skin, you were utterly mesmerised by her.
Of course, you had heard of Regina George's horror stories, but this girl was different.
Sure, you hadn't spoken till this morning, but there was something about her you couldn't quite describe. Something that brought you to school every day, comforting you as you sat in undoubtedly one of the most boring classes, and that gave life at North Shore High purpose.
Frankly, you rejected any idea of her being a heartless bitch.
When you eventually turned into her driveway, your gaze was forced away from her as you caught sight of her house, or should you say mansion. The house was almost cinematic in grandeur, your eyes growing wider by the second as you drove closer before eventually stopping at the door.
"Wow," you mumbled under your breath as you exited her car, your eyes not leaving the building as you reached for your bag. You heard Regina chuckle lightly as she led the way to her door. "My mum's not home, thank god, so we have the place to ourselves."
You nod mindlessly as you follow her through the front door. As you trailed behind her, the pristine marble floors beneath your feet echoed with each step, a stark contrast to the scuffed linoleum of the school corridors.
Just when you thought you had gotten used to it, Regina led you to her room. Stepping inside, you find yourself mesmerised by everything around you. "This is your bedroom?" you asked, clearly taken aback. Regina glanced back at you, a shy smile on her face.
"Yeah, It was my parents, but I asked them to trade me." "Right...". You couldn't help but be captivated by the array of decorations adorning the walls, taking in the posters and photos that offered a rare glimpse into her life beyond her reign as the queen of North Shore.
Sitting on her bed and removing her shoes, she motions for you to do the same. Dropping your bag next to her massive bed and grabbing everything you need, you carefully sit down next to her, leaving enough room between the two of you so you don't seem invasive.
Opening your laptop and notebook, you place them on the bed as you pull up the project materials. You can feel Regina's gaze on you even though she's trying to be subtle, and the thought instantly makes your cheeks glow softly.
"So, uh, where do you want to start?"
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The next few hours flew by as you worked on the project together. Regina was surprisingly helpful, the two of you moving closer as your work drew to a close. Now that the project was over, the familiar awkwardness lingered in the air as you searched for something to talk about that wouldn't embarrass you.
"You're really good at drawing, you know." Regina compliments softly, pointing at your notebook margins before you can say anything as you blush at her words. "Thanks... I've been doing it more since-" "Your headphones broke." Regina cuts you off as you look at her surprised.
"Yeah... How did you know that?" It was Regina's turn to blush as she realised that she had just revealed herself. Stammering to find an excuse, she looks away for a second, embarrassed. "I-I'm just a very observant person."
You look at her suspiciously with a small smile gracing your lips, the thought of Regina watching you making your heart flutter.
"You're different." you find yourself blurting out, "from how everyone else describes you, I mean." you finish quickly. Regina chuckles as she smiles at you softly. "You're different too. Good different. I like it."
The tension between you grew as you stared into each other's eyes. A softness behind her pale blue eyes drew you in, and before you knew it, you were slowly leaning in. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you caught Regina glancing down at your lips, her own caught between her teeth as your faces grew closer.
"Regina, honey!" You scramble backwards as Regina's bedroom door flies open, revealing who you believe to be her mum. "Oh. Hi there!" "Mum, seriously!?" Regina yells in disbelief. Your ears begin to ring as your head pounds, thinking about what would have happened if you had not been interrupted.
"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't realise you had anyone over." While Regina's mother was apologising, you could hear Regina sighing in frustration next to you. "I'll just go to the kitchen." Her mum suggests as she begins to leave the room, but you beat her to it. "No, Ms George, it's okay. I was on my way out anyway." You offer her a smile you hope appears as genuine as you quickly throw everything into your bag.
Trying to ignore Regina's pained gaze, you threw your bag over your shoulder, grabbed your shoes, and quickly exited her bedroom, making your way out the front door. You had no plan on how to get home, but you would rather walk than have to sit in that room after what had happened.
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Walking into school the next day was like walking straight into a nightmare. You already weren't fond of the school, having been called slurs and made fun of constantly, but adding to that, your usual excitement of seeing Regina had been replaced with pure fear.
In just one night, you managed to spin every interaction you ever had with the girl, leaving you incredibly embarrassed about how you had let it all happen. Who were you to think Regina might actually like you? You were probably just a pawn in some big game.
Unlocking your locker and throwing it open, already fed up with the day before it had even begun, you began to unpack your stuff, completely ignorant of the approaching jock.
Walking into school with a similarly distraught look, Regina's mind was stuck reeling over the events from last night. The question of why you ran away was all she could think about until she heard a sharp bang.
Before you could react, you were once again thrown against the lockers, an irritated grunt leaving your lips. Your eyes met the same bastard who had made bullying you their new hobby. "Back for more, dyke?" he taunted you, your fists clenching involuntarily as you awaited the verbal abuse he was undoubtedly about to unleash on you.
Regina's head immediately whipped in its direction, a new sense of anger rushing through her body as she saw your saddened figure being pinned up against the lockers. Without hesitation, she storms towards the jock holding you against the wall with a fire burning behind her eyes.
"Fuck off, asshole!"
The boy's expression quickly shifted, causing him to release his grip on you and hastily retreat in terror. You sighed in relief as you observed Regina approaching you, her face contorted with unmistakable rage.
You found it quite amusing how scary everyone found her, causing the boy who had just been full of confidence to shrink into insignificance, like a tiny ant that she was about to step on.
"Look in her direction again, and it won't just be STDs next time."
The boy's face flashed in realisation before hurriedly scrambling off. All eyes were fixed on you as Regina directed her gaze towards you, her expression instantly softening with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Are you ok?" you managed a nod as the softness of her voice filled you with a comforting warmth.
"Yeah… Thanks," you replied softly, your familiar awkward energy filling the air. She watched you momentarily as you remained silent, hopeful that you would acknowledge her. Yet, as you continued to avert your gaze away from her, she gave you a soft nod before turning to leave. Her stomach sank as the failing state of your relationship grew more and more obvious.
With an unfamiliar burn of tears behind her eyes, her pace quickened as she tried to get as far away from you as she possibly could.
But you stopped her.
"Regina, wait!"
Looking over her shoulder and meeting your sorry gaze, her heart can't help but flutter as she watches you slowly jog after her. "Sorry, I-" you hesitated, feeling a surge of nerves as you came the closest you had been to Regina since yesterday. "Did you want to maybe... hang out at yours after school again?"
"Didn't we finish the project?" She seems confused, completely missing that you wanted to spend time together outside what was needed. "No, we did. I just thought we could, you know, just watch a movie or something, but if you're not into that-"
"I would love to." She interrupts your anxious babbling with a gentle laugh, her gaze filled with admiration as you stare at her in a state of surprise and joy. "Meet me at the same place, ok?" "Yeah". Regina walks away from you with a smirk as you stand there frozen.
Holy shit, you just asked Regina George out.
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The trip to Regina's after the bell finally rang was much like the day before.
She waited for you by her car, dismissing her other friends when she spotted you. Greeting each other warmly before jumping in the car, you once again listened to music whilst the wind swept through your hair, a nervous yet warm sense of anticipation falling between you.
Pulling up to her house, which you were still in awe of, you jumped out of the car and walked towards the front door behind Regina. "This time, my mum actually isn't home and won't be. I made sure of it. So we really do have the place all to ourselves."
You both laughed at her words as a small blush crept onto your cheeks. You walked behind Regina as she entered her bedroom, studying the now familiar walls as she set up everything you needed to watch a movie.
After sitting on her bed with the TV switched on and Netflix loaded up, you still remained standing in her doorway, nibbling on your pencil, which you always kept stowed away in your pocket, causing her to glance at you with a puzzled expression. "You seem distracted. Everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft yet discerning.
Snapping back into reality, offering her a sheepish smile, you replied, "Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess." taking the pencil from your lips, you slowly moved towards her bed, your eyes subconsciously scanning every inch of her body, your mind going wild seeing her so comfortable.
Her gaze fixated on you, her piercing blue eyes captivating in the sunlight pouring through the window. She laughed softly, the sound filling the room with a pleasant melody. "Lost in thought or thoughts of me?"
The comment caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I… um, what makes you say that?". Regina, who reclined into her bed, gestured towards your hand, occupied by a chewed-up pencil.
"You always chew on that when you're nervous," she spoke softly. Your eyes widened in astonishment as the familiar burn returned to your cheeks. "How do you know that?" She smirked, "I notice everything." Regina's gaze never wavered as she continued watching you, a playful glint in her eyes.
"So, what's got you so nervous, Y/n?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as Regina's question hung in the air, filling the lavish room with tension. You couldn't help but fidget with your pencil, trying to find the right words to capture the overwhelming mix of emotions that Regina's presence constantly stirred within you.
"I, uh… it's just… everything, I guess. School, people, this…" You gestured vaguely between the two of you, unable to articulate the chaotic mess of feelings inside. Regina leaned up, her voice softening. "Well, you don't have to be nervous around me." Her eyes locked onto yours, a sincerity beneath the confident facade. "Now sit."
Slipping your shoes off and sitting on the bed, you move closer to Regina, who is lying against her pillows, her gaze unwavering. Eventually settling next to her, you turn to look at her, your heart fluttering as her soft eyes meet yours.
The room seemed to buzz with an unspoken energy, and all you could hear was the sound of your shared breaths. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, watching Regina's eyes analyse your face. A blush painted her cheeks, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Regina seemed hesitant, her mouth opening as if searching for the right words. "You know, I've been infatuated with you ever since you first walked into class." Your heart did a somersault at her words. A dreamy smile spread across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy and disbelief.
"Regina George. Infatuated with me?" you teased playfully, her confession coursing adrenaline through your veins. With a gentle laugh, she hides her face briefly behind her hand before looking back at you, matching your wide smile.
"Shut up."
Leaning towards you, Regina's hands delicately wrapped around your neck, a slight shiver travelling down your spine. The room appeared to tighten as Regina held you, her touch confident and gentle. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes never leaving Regina's as she closed the distance.
Time seemed to stand still as her lips met yours.
The touch of her lips against yours was gentle, her hands brushing your neck with a mix of desire and passion. Everything else faded away as you fell into the kiss.
Her breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart echoing your own. The room seemed to buzz with an electrifying charge, and the only sounds that reached your ears were the shared breaths between you two.
As Regina pulled away, a shared moment of breathless silence hung in the air. Once buzzing with unspoken energy, the room was now filled with the soft sounds of your intertwined breaths. Regina's cheeks were tinted with a deeper blush, and a subtle smirk played on her lips.
Your mind still reeling from the feeling of her lips on hers, you speak with a breathless chuckle, "What's everyone else gonna think?". Regina smirked at your question, a glint of defiance in her eyes as she pulled you back in, mumbling her response on your lips.
"Let them talk."
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lizziesangel · 10 days ago
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could you write a fic where reader is a taylor swift lover and rafe kinda gets annoyed when she talks about her, but one night, after a party, reader’s a little drunk and they get into rafe’s car where she starts blasting ‘lover’ by taylor swift and she literally serenades him blah blah blah taylor then starts to grow on rafe (idk it sounded cuter in my head)
i love this and taylor, ahh. thank you, angel, for your request! <3
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you’d been talking about taylor swift nonstop for the past week. it wasn’t your fault—her music was a masterpiece, and you were pretty sure even rafe knew it deep down, though he would never admit it.
the night of topper’s party had been wild. the keg stands, the music, the dancing—everything blurred into a haze of laughter and neon lights. by the time rafe herded you into his car, you were more than a little tipsy, your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling.
“okay, let’s get you home, angel,” rafe muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat. you leaned your head back, fumbling with your phone to cue up some music.
“wait,” you said, swiping through your playlist with drunken determination. “we need… a vibe.”
“we need silence,” rafe countered, starting the car.
“but it’s our girl taylor—”
“taylor this, taylor that,” rafe muttered as he slid into the driver’s seat after the party. “i’m starting to think you love her more than you love me.”
you were just tipsy enough not to care about his faux annoyance.
“and you love it,” you teased, reaching for your phone to connect to the car’s bluetooth. he groaned but didn’t stop you. a few moments later, the soft opening chords of lover filled the car.
you gasped dramatically, turning to face him. “oh my gosh, baby, this is our song!”
he shook his headwith a grin, “it’s definitely not.”
“no, baby,” you said dreamily, turning to him. “this song… is so us.”
he glanced at you, eyebrow raised. “oh, really?”
you ignored him, singing along as the lyrics began, your voice slightly slurred but heartfelt. by the time you hit the chorus, you were full-on serenading him, hands clasped to your chest like you were performing on stage.
“can i go where you go?” you crooned, leaning closer to him with an exaggerated pout. “can we always be this close forever and ever?”
rafe rolled his eyes but didn’t tell you to stop. in fact, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned his attention back to the road.
by the bridge of the song, you’d managed to coax him into humming along. “see? you’re a swiftie in denial!” you declared triumphantly.
“yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but there was no heat in his voice. maybe it was the alcohol or the way you lit up when you sang, but something about it made him start to wonder what all the fuss was about.
for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you—your slightly off-key singing, your hand in his, and the song weaving a warm cocoon around the car. rafe’s heart did an odd little flip. he’d never admit it, but the way you looked at him in that moment, eyes full of affection and trust, was enough to make him want to pull over and kiss you senseless.
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in the weeks that followed, rafe started noticing taylor swift everywhere. at first, it was annoying—you’d hum her songs while making coffee or quote her lyrics during arguments “this is me trying, rafe!”. but gradually, something shifted.
one night, he caught himself humming “cruel summer” in the shower. another time, he turned on the radio in his truck and didn’t immediately switch the station when “you belong with me” came on. it wasn’t until he was alone in his room, scrolling through his phone, that he found himself… adding “lover” to his playlist.
by the time your anniversary rolled around, rafe had a plan. after dinner, he led you to his truck and turned on the stereo. the familiar strums of “lover” filled the air.
your jaw dropped. “no way. is this… are you playing taylor?”
“don’t make it a big thing,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched.
you stared at him, eyes wide with amazement. “rafe cameron, are you becoming a swiftie?”
“let’s not get carried away,” he said, pulling you into his arms as the song played. “but maybe… i get it now.”
as you swayed together under the stars, you rested your head against his chest, your heart swelling with joy. taylor swift might not have been rafe’s first love, but you had a feeling she’d earned a permanent spot in his heart—right next to you.
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