iamnotoriginalphil
Not Original Phil
Clare, 25, Australia, multifandom mess, fic writer Masterlist Requests CLOSED original writing side blog @adventuresinfictionland
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The Assistant (Leonora Lesso x f!Reader)
Synopsis: Lesso is certain her assistant is working to take her down. After all, you're too good to be true.
Words: 4.6k
Warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of smut, choking
You should be scared. That was the only thought going through Lesso’s mind as she loomed over you, staring down into your wide eyes and small smile. One hand had slammed into the wall beside your head and she was leaning in, teeth bared in a snarl. You weren’t cringing away from her, looking up at her expectantly, as if she was amusing you with her antics.
“Yes, Lady Lesso?” you asked, voice light and bright, the way it always was.
She growled, pushing away from the wall. She could feel the weight of your eyes on her, the way she always could. You watched her often, assessing her, trying to read her motives. It itched, the way your gaze seemed to burrow beneath her skin, seeking out her vulnerabilities. That had to be what you were doing, searching for ways to hurt her or bring her down, to manipulate her for your own gain.
Only you remained as you always were, sitting outside her office, following her orders like the obedient little thing you wanted her to believe you were, never influencing or questioning.
“You’ve been missing from your post for too long,” she said, needing an excuse for her anger towards you.
If you knew she was on to you, she’d lose the upper hand. She wouldn’t be able to ferret out your true intentions if you buried them further in the face of her suspicion.
“My apologies, Lady Lesso. Billious was holding me up in the kitchen,” you replied, voice soft, a note of guilt darkening your words.
You were a wonderful actor, she would give you that.
“No excuses,” she snapped.
She swept away from you, leaving you leaning against the wall beside your desk. You followed her into her office, the familiar scent of vanilla following you. It would linger, she knew from experience, far longer than your presence would, and she would be forced to inhale the putrid scent for the rest of the afternoon.
You were careful as you placed the cup of coffee you’d been sent to retrieve on her desk, avoiding the stacks of paperwork she’d been ignoring. Counting the seconds you’d been gone had taken up enough mental energy to keep her occupied.
“Will that be all, Lady Lesso?” you asked.
She lowered herself to her seat, considering you on the other side of her imposing desk. You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, in one of those infuriating dresses she found herself so distracted by. Dipping necklines and flashes of your knee when you walked had her mouth turning dry and her thoughts fleeing her like a scared fairy. A small smile was curling your pink lips and your eyes were looking at her from under long lashes, sparkling in the fire light.
“Remove yourself from my presence,” she ordered.
Your chin dipped in a small nod and she watched your back as you slipped from her office. She would find your secrets, the plans you were building on the back of her work, the betrayal you would be committing. It was a perfect ruse, innocence and sunshine, hiding a deeper insidiousness she would root out. She would expose it to the light and sneer at your snivelling body, grovelling for mercy under the weight of her might.
She settled back in her chair, leaning back as she considered the door. Of course she’d hunted through your desk, picking the singular lock to discover a drawer full of sweets and notes filed away in perfect order. Nothing suspicious which only piqued her interest further.
You were smart. Of course you were. She wouldn’t have tolerated your appointment as her assistant if you weren’t. You held your own and anticipated her needs before she could ever voice them. In all ways, you were the perfect assistant. And it grated on her.
You had grown to be the bane of her existence.
Straining her ears to hear your movements on the other side of the thick wooden door, she found herself leaning forward. A curl of steam rose from the cup of coffee before her, placed there by your sure fingers, not a single drop spilled. Raising it to her lips, she had to admit you made a wonderful cup of coffee. She would miss that once she’d crushed you beneath the heel of her boot.
Your voice was muffled when it finally reached her ears. Bright and airy, your tinkling laugh made her stomach clench. Joyous laughter was wrong in her school, an aberration she aimed to squash from her halls. All attempts had failed with you, indulgence lining your expression whenever she tried.
She rose from the desk, tiptoeing to the door to listen in. Stealth was of the upmost importance, not wanting to alert you to her presence. To stay one step ahead you must be kept in the dark. Pressing her ear to the cool wood, she listened, hoping to overhear something you wouldn’t want her knowing.
“I’m hardly going to show up at the crack of dawn,” you said and she could just imagine the bright smile on your face, “I’m more of a midnight stroll kind of gal.”
“But they only bloom in the early hours of the morning,” the person you were talking to was saying, a hint of a whine in his voice.
One of the new teachers. Young and enthusiastic, built in the style of Hort with his overeagerness to prove his villainy. Villainy was not provable, it simply was. Apparent in every action you took.
Which is how she knew you must be a spy, looking to ingratiate yourself into her trust only to strike her when she least expected it.
In every sense of the word you were the complete opposite of villainous. You were bright and happy, smiling at every turn. You laughed and you hummed, your singing voice sweet. When you walked it was like you were floating with the grace you exhibited.
And worst of all, you were kind. To everyone. Including her.
“And I’m sure they’re beautiful but I’m at my worst in the morning I’m afraid,” you said.
Lesso filed that fact away for later use.
“Well, perhaps we could take that midnight stroll,” he said, turning a touch cajoling.
She could understand his desperation to secure your undivided attention on a romantic stroll. She’d noticed the way people looked at you when walking the halls, in meetings, on arrival day. People were drawn to you, most likely due to your wide smile and the pretty fluttering of your eyelashes. A less cynical person would describe you as beautiful and engaging.
She never would.
“Unfortunately Lady Lesso keeps me working all hours of the night,” you said, presumably trying to let him down nicely. She rolled her eyes. The more prudent course of action would have been to give him a dressing down until he felt so low about himself he would never bother you again.
“Is she awful to work with? I’ve always assumed she is,” he said.
Lesso held her breath, wanting to hear your answer, refusing to miss a single syllable.
“Lady Lesso is a genius. There is no one in this school who could do what she does. It’s a privilege to work so closely with her, and I’m grateful to be able to serve her. Isn’t that what all of us want? To put more villainy out into the world? To triumph over good? If anyone is going to bring about our success it will be her. I really believe that. So if I have to work long hours then it’s all worth it. I love this job. Any sacrifices are worth it.”
Your entire speech held far more passion and emotion than any other answer you’d given him, the witless man that asked you to join him in the moonlight. Too much so? She couldn’t rule it out as a performance, assuming she might be listening in on your conversation.
She wasn’t sure what happened then. A soft mumbling, footsteps, the chatter of students sweeping past. She sighed, returning to her desk to find the stack of paperwork no smaller and her coffee cooled. Her nose wrinkled as she took a sip of the lukewarm liquid. She could demand you make her a new one, but then you would not be there to keep an eye on. You’d be loose in her school and who would be able to say what you were doing then. It was bad enough when she had to teach class, her mind constantly wandering back to what you were doing, what secrets you were uncovering, what devious plots you were concocting.
A soft knock sounded on her door. Your head poked through the door, a soft smile on your face, her heart thudding in her chest just at the sight of you.
“What?” she snapped, hoping to see some flicker of displeasure in you at her rudeness.
“Billious is here to see you,” you said, your voice almost a caress over his name.
“Tell him I’m busy,” she replied, nose wrinkling.
“Of course, Lady Lesso.”
Your head retracted for a moment for it returned, looking at her with an expectation that made her want to wrong your neck.
“Oh, and the books you asked for have finally arrived. Should I bring them through or would you prefer they’re brought to your chambers?”
“You figure it out,” she snapped.
That damned smile appeared again, knowing and intuitive. She felt a flicker of fear, wondering what you had discovered. The anxiety you inspired had to be stopped.
The door was silent as it closed, the creaks she’d spent so many years curating gone under your touch. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she cursed you over and over until you might be struck down by lightning outside that very door.
A loud knock on the door had her jumping in her seat. Manley shouting through the wood. A hushed conversation on the other side. What sounded like a boot kicking the door. An admonishment. Then silence.
In less than thirty seconds you had taken command of a situation that could have so easily spun out of control. She ground her teeth, frustration sparking through her veins. You were the perfect assistant, making yourself indispensable to her, ensuring you were so enshrined in her life she couldn’t fire you. You’d wormed your way in and made it impossible to get rid of you. All by being wonderful at your job.
No one else could see your genius, but it was plain to her. You’d figured out how to function so far under the radar that no one would ever suspect you were more than the vapid woman you made yourself out to be. No one but her. She knew. And it rankled her more than she cared to admit.
You lived under her skin, every day a taunt to expose you, as if you thought she wasn’t smart enough to. It was a dare, your continued presence. You were waiting for her to break and she refused to.
It was all some sick twisted game and the only kinds of those Lesso liked were when she was the game master, not the player.
She watched you at dinner that night, your table manners impeccable, as if you’d been schooled next door. Your smile was friendly, inviting, and all she could focus on was how she wanted to ruin you. To turn you into a mess. To make you…
Well, she thought begging for mercy would sound sweet on your tongue.
If she found herself following you from the shadows as you returned to your post, flitting through moonlight drenched halls, almost dancing from window to window, then it was to watch you in your unguarded moments. You turned your face towards every window, smile soft as you looked up at the night sky. She wondered what you saw up there, if you found pictures in the stars, if the moon made you dream, if you searched for a different life.
You paused at one window, facing towards the forest, staring out. Hands flat on the window sill, you lent towards the glass until your breath misted before you. Your eyes were turned upwards and inexplicably she felt the need to sneak up behind you and trace her fingers over your exposed neck. She wanted to find your pulse, feel it thrum under her thumb, feel it race the way she never could when she tried to menace you.
“You’re not chained to your desk.”
That witless man again.
A soft sigh passed over your parted lips and your mask slipped for a moment before you fixed your smile back on your face. The truth of it had her breath catching, both frustration and pity mingling together into something almost sickly. You turned towards his approaching footsteps, stepping out of the shadows just as Lesso could do. In contrast, she shrunk back, watching and waiting.
“I thought Lesso would have you kept like a pet outside her door,” he said. Something passed over his face, too quick to see, but ugly enough to make her curious.
“She’s not a monster, you know,” you said, your voice quiet, almost soft in your assessment of her, “I think you’ve mischaracterised her into the monster under the bed.”
“Isn’t she?” he asked.
“She’s far more subtle than that. Elegant. Wickedly intelligent. You won’t even know she’s five steps ahead of you until you’re already caught in her trap. It’s beautiful, the way her villainy unfolds,” you replied.
Bare shoulders shrugged and she found herself considering the line of your body. Relaxed and at ease. It must be some kind of facade. It had to be. No one was so relaxed in her school. Not even the teachers.
“You sound smitten with her,” he said, taking another step towards you.
“I’m not some pathetic Ever,” you laughed, “I know it’s what plenty of people here think but I’m not looking for True Love’s Kiss.”
“You can tell me if she’s forcing you to say these things about her. I won’t tell,” he said, giving what he must have thought was a conspiratorial wink.
Lesso felt her nose wrinkle, watching this scene play out in front of her. The insipid man trying to win your trust and you standing with a straightened spine and the smile dying on your lips. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen it so much as falter before.
“No on forces me to do anything I don’t want. Not even her,” you said, “especially not her.”
“What then? More pirvelleges? A place in her bed? Extra food at meal times?” he demanded.
Your smile was gone.
“Your loyalty may be so easily bought, Derrick, but I can assure you mine is not,” you said, the lightness in your voice vanishing the longer you talked. Steel was taking over. If you were anyone else she might be impressed.
“Loyalty?” he scoffed, “I think you just think you’re better than me because you’re Lesso’s little pet. You think I won’t risk my own ass by harming you. But you’re not better than me. You’re just a stuck up Ever.”
“You want to hurt me?” you asked, “go ahead. She won’t save me. And it certainly won’t make me go on that moonlit walk with you. I’m holding out for someone more impressive to ask.”
There was a glint off metal, a dagger in his hand that hadn’t previously been there, moonlight reflecting off the blade. Lesso found herself leaning forward, waiting to see what would happen. She’s never heard you speak so cruelly to another person and while she could sympathise, she didn’t realise you were capable of sneering at the unworthy. You usually met them with a smile and respect, two ideologies she refused to subscribe to.
The dagger flashed and a soft lavender glow lit the hallway. Dangling from one ankle, upside down and glowering, the witless man hung in front of you. He slashed the dagger towards you, a howl of anger coming from him. You simple stepped back, considering him for a moment, head tilted and lips curling up at the corners in an almost devilish smile. This was a side to you she’d yet to see, just another lie and secret to keep your true motives from her. The heart in her chest thundered with anger, the new knowledge burning through her.
“This is your one warning, Derrick. Try something like this again and I won’t be nearly so kind. See how easily I overpowered you? Just consider what I’ll do when I’m not holding back,” you said, voice turning silky smooth.
“You bitch,” he snarled.
“I’m sure one day you’ll be more imaginative too,” you said.
A wave of your lavender finger glow and the dagger was torn from his grip, floating into yours. You looked down at it, nose wrinkling in an uncomfortably fetching way. Tucking it away into your bodice, you looked down into his face, hovering somewhere around your navel.
“Trust me, Derrick. I am not someone you want to cross. Run along now,” you said.
With a lazy flick of the wrist, he fell to the stone floor in a crumpled heap. You watched him scrabble to his feet, trying to look composed in his rumpled clothes and mussed hair. Resentment. That was the expression that had flashed over his face when he’d begun the conversation. He resented you for everything he was not.
“You’ll regret this,” he said.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
You watched him flee down the hall with cool indifference before turning back to the window, your thoughts already slipping past him. Looking out on the night pressing in, you sighed, relaxing again as if the altercation had never happened. A small smile ticked your lips up, bright and joyful, head tipping back in the moonlight.
“You can stop lurking in the shadows,” you said.
She stepped out, cane clicking on the floor, a sign for those in the immediate area to begin panicking. You didn’t even turn in her direction, the only indication you were aware of her presence the flutter of your eyes opening. She stopped at your shoulder, looking out on the forest, wondering what creatures might be lurking out there.
“Who are you?” she asked, voice harsh when compared to you.
“Your assistant. Nothing more, nothing less,” you replied.
“No one is that loyal to me,” she said, voice barely more than a rasp when it came from her lips.
You had to be a rival. You had to be. She couldn’t handle it if all her instincts were so wrong about you.
She raised her hand, not sure what she was going to do. You turned, finally, looking up into her eyes. That damned smile was still in place, softening when you looked at her. Fingers curled around your neck, her thumb rested against your pulse, just as she’d dreamed of doing. It thrummed under her touch despite your calm exterior.
She pushed you back until your back hit the glass of the window. You shivered, making her smirk grow. Your discomfort was her pleasure.
“No more lies.” She felt out of control, her perfect veneer slipping.
“I’ve never lied to you once, Lady Lesso,” you said, sounding so calm despite her hand wrapped around your neck.
“You want to destroy me,” she snarled, her face drawing closer.
“I want to serve you,” you replied on a sigh.
She pressed you more insistently against the glass, her fingers tightening. She could imagine the bruises blooming over your skin, the pretty canvas holding her art. And what a masterpiece you would make.
“You’re nothing,” she spat, “a pathetic spy who can’t even notice when you’re the one being watched.”
“I always know when you’re watching me,” you replied.
“You can’t,” she snarled.
“I can,” you said, not shying away from the rage on her face or the pressure of her fingers on your windpipe, “when it’s you, I always know.”
“Shut up,” she snapped, voice tight.
You were staring up at her with those wide eyes, sparkling. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip, keeping you from giving her one of your patent smiles and she was so aware of the knife hidden in your bodice. One of your hands reached up, gently curling around her wrist, skin to skin. Lightning flowed from the point of contact and she flinched.
“You must be my enemy,” she said, but her voice was losing its harsh edge, “you must be.”
“Why must I be?” you asked.
Your fingertips brushed the vulnerable skin of her inner wrist and she snatched it back, leaving your throat bare and her skin tingling, cane clattering to the ground from the other. You kept your back pressed to the window, watching her with an openness that made her skin itch.
“You pay close attention to me. What other reason if not to find my weaknesses?” she said, sounding less sure of herself with every passing word.
“Can you really think of no other reason I might be paying such close attention to you?” you asked and she could hear how amused you were.
“That’s the only reason you’d do that,” she said, her hand slamming into the window beside your head, rattling the glass in its frame. You didn’t flinch.
“It’s not why you’ve been paying such close attention to me,” you said, “it’s not why I scare you.”
“You don’t scare me,” she replied, almost on autopilot.
“No?”
Your hand reached up, finger wrapping itself in one of her fiery curls. Her heart thudded and she waited for the pull.
Eye fluttering shut, she felt your other hand came up, fingers ghosting over her lips. She was going to die. You were going to kill her and she wouldn’t be meeting Death with her eyes open. Her breath was dragged from her lungs and she thought she might collapse.
“I think you’re terrified,” you murmured, fingertip tracing the shape of her lips.
She couldn’t argue. Her pulse was racing, heart thumping, and all she could focus on was the path your finger was taking. She knew you’d be her downfall but she’d never expected it to feel so soft, as if she had permission to sink into your devastating touch.
Your finger disappeared and she didn’t have time to readjust before something soft ghosted over her lips. Her eyes shot open, finding you so close, your lips pressing more insistently. She felt herself coming apart at the seams. Her eyes fluttered shut again as your tongue traced the seam of her lips. You tasted of sugar and spice and everything nice. It made her blood boil.
Her hands grasped your hip, and she pushed your body back. She took control of the kiss, teeth sinking into your lip until copper burst on her tongue. You made a small whimpering noise and she felt drunk, under a spell, enchanted. Your fingers tangled in her hair, pulling just enough to make her feel her sanity slip away.
She drew away, your lips painted red with your own blood. They tugged up into a smile and she groaned, kissing you again. You sunk into it, the soft sigh too sweet for her. She pushed her leg between yours, feeling your heat through the layers of cloth. You moaned, fingers tightening in her curls with a sharp tug.
Maybe her feelings towards you were less about taking you down and more about going down on you.
She tore her mouth from yours, panting hard as her eyes darted wildly over your face. You were looking up into her face, lips kiss swollen and eyes glassy. She could see your chest heaving and she took a step back. If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could stop and if she didn’t stop she wasn’t sure she would be in control anymore. She could lose herself in you, and you were right, that terrified her.
“What have you done to me?” came out as a breathless whisper.
Your chuckle was too close to knowing and she wanted to stop it. Her fingers itched to curl around your throat again, wanting the sound to cut off. You took a step towards her, the chuckle dying, leaving behind a small smile and sparkling eyes.
“Don’t come near me,” she snapped.
You stilled, freezing in place like she was some kind of frightened animal prone to startling. Her teeth ground together and a frustrated sound came from her lips. You waited, giving her the space to calm down and it made her want to scream. You were too accommodating.
“Don’t do what I tell you,” she snapped but it was less controlled.
“So I should come near you?” you asked, your smile turning into a small smirk.
“No,” she shouted, “yes. Fuck. What have you done to me?”
“Nothing,” you replied, taking another step towards her and she wanted to raise her hands in defence and blast you through the window behind you, “I think you just like me.”
“I don’t like anyone,” she snapped as a reflex.
“Then why do you stare at me all day? Why did you kiss me like that?” you asked, advancing on her until her back hit the stone wall behind her in the shadows she’d emerged from, “why are you still thinking about kissing me?”
“Lust isn’t the same as like,” she replied but even then she knew you had the upper hand.
“Maybe not, but you definitely like me, Lady Lesso,” you said, placing one hand on her hip, keeping her pinned to the wall.
“Your delusions are not my concern,” she tried to snarl but it sounded like a wolf without teeth.
“Then leave,” you said, “if I’m wrong, it should be easy for you to leave me here heartbroken and rejected.”
She wanted to push past you, to shove you out of the way, but she found herself unable to do it. Her hands landed on your shoulders but that’s as far as she got. Your smile turned into something soft and understanding and she hated it.
“Stop that,” she said.
“Stop what?” you asked. You blinked and your eyelashes were so long they brushed your cheekbones like a stupid princess.
“Making me feel these things,” she said.
“No can do, Lady Lesso. That’s one request I can’t accomplish,” you said.
“What kind of assistant are you?” she demanded but there was no heat behind it.
“The kind that does this.”
You lent forward, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. She groaned into your mouth, fingers sliding into your hair, tangling and tugging until she heard you whimper and press your body against hers. You nipped at her lower lip and all she could think of was all the ways she wanted to defile you.
“Fine,” she mumbled against your lips, “but you’re not getting a pay raise.”
“I don’t need one,” you replied, before kissing her again.
Maybe you weren’t trying to destroy her, but you still made her feel weak in all the ways that mattered. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. Not if you were going to continue kissing her like that.
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Note
First of all your writing is amazing!!! Second of all hope you are having a good year so far! I was thinking for a request maybe reader x Rebecca Welton based on the line If lies keep falling from your lips then I’m out the door” where it’s the episode Keeley confronts her about the picture. Rebecca and reader ended up starting dating after the night in Liverpool, ends up finding out about Rebecca’s whole plan for the club and confronts her too where Rebecca tries to defend herself but reader isn’t having none of it wants to know why she was doing this, if what they have going on is just part of her plan to get back at Rupert since reader used to work under Rupert and he tried to make advances on her in the passed. With a Happy ending
Sweet Little Lies (Rebecca Welton x f!Reader)
Words: 2k
Warnings: swearing, lying, talking about Rupert
You’d known it was too good to be true. Of course it was. Why would a woman like Rebecca Welton ever be interested in someone like you? With her elegance and her poise, she was easily the most impressive woman you’d ever met, and without a doubt the most beautiful. You’d always thought so.
You were standing outside her office door, pacing backwards and forwards, trying to build up the courage to go inside. You hadn’t expected Higgins to break down after finding a stress rash creeping down his arm and you certainly hadn’t expected him to spill the beans about Rebecca’s plans. Admittedly, he’d thought you already knew, that you were in on your girlfriend’s plan, and felt worse upon realising you weren’t. But that still left you deciding how to bring it up with her.
You froze as the door was pulled open from the other side. Rebecca took a half step out before freezing when her eyes landed on you. You felt your eyes widening, the issue coming to a head before you felt ready.
“What are you-?” she began to ask before stopping herself.
“We need to talk,” you said.
“Uh oh,” she said, a brittle smile appearing on her face, “are you about to break up with me?”
You took a step towards her, finding her hand with yours. You stepped around her, ignoring the way just the touch of her palm against yours made you feel more grounded. And also made the butterflies in your stomach turn into a tornado.
You guided her back into her own office, closing the door to keep from being interrupted. Worry was etching itself on Rebecca’s face, eyes flicking over your expression as if trying to figure out what you were going to say. You weren’t sure what your face was doing but you thought it must have been grim. She was slow to sit on her sofa, hesitant when you didn’t join her.
“What’s going on, love?” she asked.
Having her blue eyes staring up at you weren’t making it easier for you. The amount of worry, and the fear you could see hiding behind that worry made you want to reassure her. You hated being the cause of her distress but you had to talk to her. You had to get to the bottom of it all. Because if you didn’t, when she revealed that she’d never actually wanted you, it would crush you.
“I’ve been talking to Higgins,” you said, “or I guess it would be more accurate to say Higgins talked to me.”
“That’s never a good start to a conversation,” she said, with one of those uncomfortable laughs that let you know that she didn’t like where the conversation was going.
“He told me about your plan,” you said, “about destroying Richmond and taking everything Rupert loved. He thought I already knew since I’m, you know, in a relationship with you.”
“Oh,” was the only reply you got.
“You’ve been lying to me this entire time, Rebecca.”
It sounded harsh to your ears and from the way she almost reeled back as if slapped it was clear it sounded harsh to her as well. But it was the truth. You had to remind yourself of that or else you’d find yourself apologising and begging for her forgiveness. You were in the right. You knew you were.
“I didn’t lie to you.” Her voice was so small.
“You didn’t tell me the truth,” you countered.
Your hurt was turning into anger and you were scared about what was going to happen. If she kept denying it, or minimising it you weren’t sure what you were going to do. You needed to hear her say it, just once, so you could know. If she couldn’t admit it, then you weren’t sure you could trust her about anything else.
“I thought you would hate me if you knew,” she said, shoulders slumping.
“If you can’t be honest with me, that’s going to be worse. I don’t care about you trying to get back at Rupert for fucking you over. I care that the way you’re doing it is hurting other people,” you said.
“The team will be fine. No one will blame them,” she said.
“They’ll blame Ted and he doesn’t deserve it. You know he doesn’t. He’s a good person,” you said, “and I know you set up Keeley so don’t even pretend. Is everyone else just collateral damage? Is it worth all of our pain?”
“Everyone else will recover. They can come back from this. I just want to destroy the club,” she said.
“Then I can’t stay,” you said.
“What?”
Those large eyes looked at you, a sense of panic beginning to overtake her expression. The worry and the fear were gone, slipping away in the face of your statement. You waited, needing to hear her response before you could move on.
“What do you mean you can’t stay?” she asked.
“Well, if I’m all just part of this plan to get back at Rupert, and this entire relationship has been a lie, then I won’t be putting myself through dealing with the indignity of staying in this relationship,” you said, ignoring the way just the words coming from you made it feel as if you were cleaving your own heart in two.
“You weren’t… you were never… I didn’t plan for you,” she said, seemingly not able to come up with the right words. You weren’t sure there were right words to come back from this.
“Of course I was. You got what Rupert could never have. Surely that will make him sting just a bit,” you said with a shrug, trying to make it sound casual, like you didn’t care, like your heart wasn’t being torn to shreds.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, “darling, our relationship was never part of my plan. It was unexpected. Wonderful, the most wonderful thing to come out of all of this, but I couldn’t have planned for falling in love with you.”
You felt your breath leave you.
“Don’t you… how dare you try and sweep this all under the rug by saying you love me for the first time?”
All attempts at remaining calm were all out the window. There was no calm in the face of what she was doing to you.
“I’m not trying to sweep the things I’ve actually done under the rug, but you’re not one of those things. You were never meant to be part of this whole fucking mess. I don’t know why you even would be. It’s not like he was in love with you,” she said.
“No but he tried to get off with me,” burst from you. You’d never told her because you never thought it was relevant. Only now it really felt like it was, especially if she’d known all along.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” It was the first sense you got that she was getting angry.
“Back when he owned the club. He would hit on me all the time. He made it very clear he wanted a shag, and I made it very clear I didn’t want that but he kept trying to change my mind,” you said, “but you knew that because now I’ve shagged you when I wouldn’t shag him. Just another up yours to him.”
“Darling, I had no idea.” Anger was mingling with sadness, pity perhaps in the mix too. “I wish I’d known.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t,” you said, only your conviction felt shaky.
“You think I would sit idly by if he was harassing you?” she demanding, finally standing up, the anger getting to her. You’d always loved the way she towered over you, and even in her anger you weren’t worried it would be turned on you. You had that much faith in her, even if the rest of it had been rocked by the revelation.
“ I don’t…” You looked up into her thunderously angry face, “no, I don’t think you would.”
“Of course I bloody wouldn’t,” she said, but she seemed to calm at your words.
“So I really wasn’t part of your plan to back at Rupert?” you asked.
“No.” She brought both hands up to cup your cheeks in her warm palms, “you’ve been a wonderful surprise. The best thing to come out of this whole fucking mess.”
You looked up at her, feeling a flush of warmth for her. She hadn’t lied about your relationship. That had all been real.
“You have to tell Ted,” you said, “no more lies. If you keep lying to everyone then I can’t do this anymore.”
“I know. Of course. I was on my way to tell him when I found you,” she said.
“Good because I know you’re better than this. You’re better than your pain,” you said.
With both hands still on your cheeks, she tilted your face up towards her. She was slow as she approached, giving you plenty of time to move away but you didn’t. You couldn’t. She’d enchanted you, body and soul, and you were under her spell. The brush of lips was soft, still giving you enough time to pull away but you didn’t. If anything, you pressed closer, your arms curling around her body.
She was slow to draw back and when she did you whimpered. You never wanted to stop kissing her once you’d started. She was gentle as she pushed some hair behind your ear, blue eyes twinkling, lips curling up at the corner.
“You’re so lovely,” she whispered.
“Did you tell me you love me?” you asked, the thought finally penetrating through the fog of your heartbreak now it had stopped.
“I suppose I did.” Her smile faltered for a moment before stretching a little further.
“Did you mean it?”
She seemed to soften before you, a glow lighting her up from the inside out. You found yourself leaning closer, never able to fight against your impulse to fall into her. Her thumb brushed along your cheekbone.
“I did,” she said, voice soft, almost reverent in her confession.
“Say it again,” you requested.
“I love you,” she said, a little louder than before.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
You gazed up at her, feeling the intensity of the moment. Your heart was pounding and your skin was buzzing and all you wanted to do was melt into her. The first time you’d seen her, walking through the halls on Rupert’s arm, you’d felt yourself fall for her. Every day since it had only grown stronger. You still reeled from from the fact that she seemed to want you too.
“I love you too,” you whispered.
Her face split open in pure sunlight. Her smile widened and the joy was practically rolling off her. She pulled you in, kissing you without restraint. You were grinning into the kiss, not even caring when your teeth clashed together. She was laughing into your mouth and you found yourself following suit, until your cheek was pressed to hers and you were revelling in the moment.
It was an unexpected end to your conversation.
“You should go speak to Ted,” you murmured once the laughter had died down and you didn’t feel as if your heart was going to run away from you.
“Can’t we just stay here for a moment longer?” she asked.
“It’s time, Rebecca,” you said, “you have to tell him.”
“What if he hates me?” she asked.
“It’s Ted. I’m not sure he knows how to hate anyone,” you replied.
She paused a moment before her shoulders slumped again.
“Fuck, you’re right. I know you’re right. The bastard will forgive me,” she said, sounding unhappy about it.
“And afterwards, we can go home and watch Wizard of Oz and eat garlic bread,” you said.
“God I love you,” she said, pulling you into another kiss.
“Go on. Stop trying to distract me,” you said, tapping her on the arse.
The smile she flashed you over her shoulder as she left her office had you needing to suppress your own smile. Yeah, you loved that woman.
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Hi! Do you think you’d ever do a part two to Friends with Benefits? Totally understand if not! Absolutely love your writing 🥰
I’m planning on doing a part two. Probably soon. If I had to guess, within the next week probably
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Friends with Benefits (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
Synopsis: Barbra finds out that you and Melissa have been getting up to some after hours activities
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: mentions of smut
AN: Just a little thing for @maybe-a-humanbean after 3x08. A nice 'what if' if you will.
You lent over to Melissa, standing in the dimly lit room full of cpr dummies. Pitching your voice low so it would not carry to the other people around you, you whispered in her ear.
“How about you practice on me, give me some mouth to mouth attention.”
She turned her eyes on you, lips pressed together to keep in a grin, eyes sparkling at you with unspoken mirth.
“Stop it,” she whispered back.
“I can certainly think of something that would block my airways,” you said.
“You’re pushing it,” she warned you.
“You’re worth the choking hazard,” you murmured.
She hit your shoulder but you could see the flush on her cheeks in the dim light, practically glowing at your words. You grinned at her, loving when you could fluster her. She turned away from you, doing her best to listen to the fire chief. Ignoring him, you brushed your fingertips along the back of her hand, before moving over to Jacob’s workstation.
“You’re not working with Melissa?” he asked.
“I figure Barbra needs some Mel time,” you replied with a small shrug, “I’ve taken up more than my fair share.”
“You have been spending a lot of time together,” the woman in question said, leaning around Melissa to speak to you.
“Too much, some might say,” Jacob muttered under his breath.
You shot him a look, trying to tell him to shut up. His eyes were averted and you were sure he hadn’t gotten the message.
“You went out for drinks on Friday night, you went to that cute little farmers market on Sunday, and didn’t you say you were going to try out that new restaurant down town together?” Barbra asked Melissa.
“Why bother when you can just finish my box of cereal in the morning?” Jacob said.
“I told you I was going to replace that,” you snapped at him, not needing to start that argument again.
“You ate breakfast with Melissa and Jacob this morning?” she asked you before Melissa could answer any of her previous questions.
“She was certainly eating something this morning,” Jacob muttered. Clearly he was still sulking.
“No need to be crass,” you admonished.
“Are you seeing each other?” Barb asked, still not having had any of her questions answered.
“No,” you said at the same time as she said, “of course not.”
“What do you mean of course not?” you asked her, “it’s not a crazy question to ask given the context.”
She scoffed.
“You don’t want to be tied down to an old woman like me,” she said.
“What?” Your voice was sharp.
“So you’re not seeing one another?” Barb asked.
“They’re hooking up,” Jacob said.
The gasp from Janine was not appreciated, both of you shooting her a look. She looked hurt, as if the two of you had betrayed her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Barb asked, also sounding hurt.
“Because there’s nothing to tell,” Mel said, exasperated with the whole thing.
You sighed, staring down at the dummy on the table. The thought that Mel found the possibility of the two of you dating so unbelievable was surprisingly hurtful. And not in the way you were expecting. She thought she was the part of the equation letting the side down, not that she didn’t want you. It was her own insecurities, not about what she wanted.
The conversation stalled as Captain Robinson tried to continue with the course but you could feel the heat from your right. Janine had come and gone and you were doing your best to compress the chest beneath your hands. Jacob was purposefully avoiding making eye contact with Robinson’s helper and Mel was avoiding making eye contact with you.
“Are you seriously mad?” Mel asked Barbra the moment there was a break in proceedings to do so.
“Why would I be mad? It’s not as if my friends have been keep their courtship a secret from me,” Barb snapped.
“Courtship?” you asked.
“This ain’t Bridgerton. It’s casual,” Mel protested.
“Casual what? It’s not casual friends because she and I are casual friends and we don’t share breakfast,” she said.
“It’s not casual anything. It’s just sex. Friends with benefits,” Mel said.
You wanted to argue with that but you couldn’t. That was the arrangement. Nothing serious, just sex between two friends who found the other hot. Because she wasn’t interested in more.
Maybe.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Barb asked, finally turning on you.
“We didn’t think you’d understand,” you said, “I mean, come on, Barb, you’re quite… traditional. And this is… not.”
“I can understand new fangled dating. You talked to me about Gary,” she said, rounding back on Mel.
“Yes, because that was a real relationship you would approve of,” she replied.
“And we’re not dating,” you supplied.
You were beyond caring about the other people in the course. Janine was popping in and out with the kind of frantic energy you hadn’t missed around Abbott. Jacob was dealing with his own hookup drama. You just wanted to take Mel off somewhere and drown in her to forget the argument.
“Sorry for assuming you wouldn’t understand,” Mel said, but you could hear an undercurrent of sarcasm in her voice.
“Thank you.” You weren’t sure Barb had completely grasped the sarcasm.
The going on between Janine, Jacob, and the handsome EM came to the forefront of the moment. You ignored that, your fingertips gently tapping against the pulse point in Mel’s wrist. Familiar green eyes turned to you, eyebrow quirking in question. You nodded to a point in the room, slightly further away from the others.
“What?” she asked with an undertone of exasperation. You couldn’t tell if it was aimed at you or one of the others.
“Do you really think I think you’re too old for me?” you asked. It had really been playing on your mind since she’d said it.
“Hon, it’s okay. I know where we stand. You’re so much younger than me,” she said, giving you one of those looks that said you were being an idiot.
“So? Mel, you’re gorgeous, you’re fucking sexy, and you’re a wonderful person. I would be lucky to be in a relationship with you, younger or not,” you replied, “you’re not too old for someone like me. You’re wonderful just the way you are.”
“Hon,” she breathed but you could see the flush on her cheek and the smoulder in her eye.
You weren’t often given over to saying sentimental things to her. Nothing beyond what would be considered platonic, if verging into grossly flirtatious. You tucked some of her hair behind her ear, lingering on her jaw for a moment.
“Just thought you should know,” you said, keeping your voice quiet so it would remain between the two of you.
You left her to her thoughts, rejoining your friends. Barb looked over at you, and you sighed.
“I really am sorry we didn’t tell you. Your opinion matters to me so much I just didn’t want you to think badly about me,” you said.
“You’re an adult, you can make your own life choices. If you’re happy, then girl, I’m not going to tell you off like you’re one of my students. As long as you are happy,” she said.
“I am for now,” you replied, not willing to go into a lot of the minutiae of the situation.
“Then I’m happy for you,” she said.
Her arm curled around your shoulders in the comforting way you’d grown accustomed to. In your peripheral vision, you saw Mel sidle back up to the group on Barb’s other side. Her fiery hair shone in the warm light and you felt your breath catch.
“Are you coming to get a drink with us?” Barb asked you.
“Really?” you asked.
“Sure, hon. Wouldn’t be the same without you,” Mel said, glancing over at you.
You grinned at her, leaning into Barb’s embrace more. Yeah, you were happy enough with what you had, because what you had was pretty damn great.
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be nosy
@whiteberryx tagged me in this and I enjoy some good ol' procrastination from work so here you go.
last song: Doing Better by Fletcher
favorite color: Purple, but especially lavender at the moment but I cycle through which shade
Currently watching: Taskmaster season 4
Sweet/savoury/sour: 50% sweet, 45% savoury, 5% sour
Relationship status: single
Current obsession: Taskmaster, it's taken over my life, I need help
Last thing you searched: Alex Horne I think, I wanted to know how old he was, he's 45 if anyone else cares to know
No pressure but I'm passing this ball onto @rustyzebra @maybe-a-humanbean @virescent-v
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Roommates? (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
Synopsis: You move into Mel's spare room
Words: 3.6k
Warnings: praise kink if you squint, swearing, mentions of alcohol
AN: Written after 3x07.
You groaned as you dropped into your seat in the break room, not hungry for the lunch you’d packed for yourself. Burying your head in your hands, you did your best to try not to think about the email you’d just received. It was hard when your stress was becoming all encompassing after weeks of it.
“What going on with you?”
You groaned again, even when you felt the brush of an arm against yours. The floral scent you’d grown accustomed to over the last few years wafted towards you. Melissa. Your closest friend at the school, and the person you’d been pining after for so long you’d lost any self respect you might have had.
“That place I was going to move into fell through,” you said, “I feel like I’ve seen every spare room in this city and there is no where to live.”
You peeked at her from between your fingers, hating to sound so whiny but knowing that your stress levels had reached breaking point. She was looking at you with a raised eyebrow and an incredulous look. You sighed, sitting up properly under her watchful gaze.
“You know Jacob’s looking for a place too,” Gregory said from the other table.
“I know,” you groaned, “he suggested we look for a place together and I can’t commit to living and working with that man. He once tried to rap at me about the Martin Luther King Jr and I can’t have that in my home.”
“I get that,” Gregory replied, “why are you even looking for a new place to live? Your place is nice.”
“My roommate keeps watching me when I sleep. Sometimes I wake up and she’s standing at the end of my bed just staring at me. It freaks me out.”
“Well hey, I’m thinking of renting out my spare room. Would you be interested, hon?”
You hadn’t expected Melissa to say that.
“Really?”
She gave you one of those small smiles that you’d never seen her give another person. Your heart fluttered and you found your cheeks heating up.
“Really,” she said, “you can pay rent, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” you replied.
“You can move in this weekend,” she said.
Come Saturday, your things were in boxes and bags, and you had a spring in your step. You were humming to yourself as you packed up your car, your entire life filling the seats and the trunk. You took one last look at the building, sighed, then got in your car and drove to the next chapter of your life.
It wasn’t until you were standing in front of the door that the reality of what you were about to do crashed into you. Living with Melissa. Being in her space all the time. Existing in close proximity. She was going to see you first thing in the morning. You were going to see her late at night.
Your crush was going to either get so much worse or dissipate when you saw all of her annoying habits.
The door opened before you could knock, revealing the red head who starred in so many of your dreams. You blinked, rearing back, not having expected her to suddenly appear. Her lips quirked up, hand snapping out to grasp you around the elbow before you could fall backwards.
“Were you planning on knocking or do you wanna live on my front step?” she asked.
“ I was… just about to… can you help with my boxes?” you asked instead, switching tracks without having to explain yourself.
“Sure, hon,” she chuckled, slipping past you.
Watching her lift your heavy boxes set off something primal in you. You followed behind her, your own arms full of your stuff. She led you up the stairs and into her spare bedroom, placing the boxes down on the made up bed.
“Well, here you are. Bed, dresser, the bathroom is down the hall. You can have a a shelf in the fridge. Your key is just there. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need help with the rest of your stuff?” she asked.
“Only if you want to. I can do it myself. It’s no bother.” You had no idea why you were saying no. You felt flustered. You always felt a bit flustered around her.
“Come on, hon,” she said, giving you an indulgent smile, “the sooner we start the sooner we’ll be done.”
She left you alone after pttling the last of the boxes into your room, leaving you to unpack and settle in. Sorting your clothes into colours helped to ease your thoughts, the mindless work turning your head empty. It calmed you, getting your life in order so you could get your thoughts in order.
It wasn’t going to be so bad living with Melissa. She was being nice to you which was more than Jacob or Janine had been able to say after their cooking lesson with her. Accommodating was the word. She was almost going out of her way to be nice.
And most importantly you could keep your crush to yourself without ruining it all.
That night, she made dinner, offering you some and then curled up on the couch with a glass of wine. You were hesitant about joining her, hovering until she rolled her eyes and tugged you to sit beside her.
But it was easy to fall into a routine with her. Surprisingly easy. So easy that you didn’t even notice until a few weeks in.
Sitting at the table on a Wednesday night, doing the puzzle you’d started over the weekend, you listened to her hum in the kitchen. Something was bubbling on the stove top, the smell mouth watering. You looked up as fingers pushed a piece towards you.
“Thanks,” you said, looking up at her.
She was already smiling at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. It was an instinctual response. You couldn’t help it when it came to Mel.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“Always,” you replied, knowing it was the answer she wanted.
“C’mon then, hon, make some room. Can’t have you starving before you finish that patch of sky,” she said.
“You’re teasing but I saw you get excited when you finished the boat,” you said, clearing your pieces away from one end of the table.
Sitting across from her, the lights soft and warm, there was always something a little romantic to the feeling. Of course, you were sure it was all in your head but you couldn’t help but enjoy it, just a little, more than you should. She would look at you, those twinkling green eyes making you flush, and her smile had butterflies erupting in your stomach.
Still, every night felt like domestic bliss. Coming home with her, in the bubble of her house, the quiet night pressing in on the window, it was the kind of life you hadn’t known you’d been missing.
“You’re a goddess in the kitchen,” you said.
She’d waited for you to try her food, just as she always did before beginning to eat her own meal. Her foot brushed against yours under the table, making you jump. She chuckled, doing it again and you felt your cheeks heat and your heart stumble over itself.
Some days it almost felt like she was flirting with you.
“You’re sweet, hon,” she said.
You found your foot brushing against hers again, emboldened by her bashful response. Those green eyes flicked up to you, something twinkling in their depths. You weren’t sure how you looked but you were worried you’d shown your hand to her.
Dropping your foot back to the floor, you averted your gaze down to the plate of pasta she’d laid down in front of you. Her foot nudged yours before resting against it, length to length, the warmth of her skin seeping into yours.
She kept silent the rest of the meal, following your lead. You weren’t sure you could say anything, not with her foot against yours. Certainly not if she was watching you.
You remained silent as you cleared the table once she was done. Standing shoulder to shoulder at the sink, you did the washing up together, working in companionable tandem. You were so in tune with one another after living together for those few weeks, working together came without flaws.
“Are you gonna be watching our show tonight?” she asked into the silence.
You didn’t say no.
Sitting beside her on the sofa had always been trouble for you. Shoulder to shoulder, lit by nothing but the flickering screen, sharing a bowl of popcorn until your hands brushed together, it had always been a specific type of torture for you. The air always felt electric to you, and you knew it didn’t for her.
Except this night her head fell to your shoulder and her body curled towards yours. You froze until she admonished you, doing your best to relax your muscles. And there you stayed until she went to bed, feeling as if you had entered some kind of parallel universe.
Thursday night you’d put the entire odd experience behind you. She hadn’t mentioned it over breakfast or on the car ride over to school. On the ride back home she’d sung along to the radio, keeping her hands and feet to herself. You’d thought it was done. You thought you wouldn’t be tortured anymore.
But after you’d changed out of your school clothes and into something more comfortable, a knock sounded on your door. Opening the door, you found her in the hall, wet hair clinging to the skin of her neck, a towel wrapped around her body. You stumbled back a step, blinking at the vision before you.
“Um…” was all you managed to say.
“Have you seen my Eagles hoodie?” she asked.
“No,” you replied faintly, doing your best to not let your eyes wander further south than her chin.
“You sure? Because I can’t find it,” she said.
“Did you check in the washing?” you asked, hoping that would send her away.
“I thought you mighta borrowed it,” she said, lips tipping up into a small smirk, “you always seem to like it when I wear it. Can’t keep your hands off me.”
You felt your cheeks heat even further, deeper, almost uncomfortably. You looked down at your feet, terrified to be caught staring at her. You didn’t need to come across as a creep to her, ruining your friendship completely and irrevocably.
“I’m just teasing, hon,” she said, shoving your shoulder, “it’s probably in the wash.”
You were left staring at her retreating back as she left you be with your swirling thoughts and thundering heart, breathless from the image of all that skin on display. You were slow to close your door, leaning back against it as you breathed out a long sigh. Pressing a hand to your chest, you could feel the beating of your heart against your skin, practically bursting from your body.
The after image of her in the towel stayed in your mind until you could bring yourself to venture downstairs.
She was standing at the hob, stirring something on the stove, dressed in the familiar grey hoodie she’d been looking for. You blinked then stepped further in. She turned, smiling at you over her shoulder.
“Wanna help me out here?” she asked, seeming not bothered by the interaction upstairs.
“Sure,” you said, wanting to move past it too. Clearly, it hadn’t effected her the way it had effected you.
“Can you keep stirring this for me? I gotta start on the chopping,” she said.
“Sure,” you said again.
Your fingers brushed over hers as you took the wooden spoon from her. She paused a moment, eyes roving over your face. You held your breath, frozen, waiting, wondering what she was thinking.
“Keep stirring, hon,” she whispered, hand guiding yours, the skin of her palm warm against yours.
Slipping away, you kept your eyes on the pot, not wanting her to see the way you were beginning to come undone. One day you could brush off as weird, two made you wonder what was going on.
A warm hand landed on your hip, practically burning through the fabric of your leggings. A soft chin rested on your shoulder, looking over you as you continued stirring. You didn’t know what to do but keep stirring. If you focused on the warmth and the soft body brushing against your back you might melt into a puddle of goo.
“Good job, hon,” she murmured, lips brushing your earlobe.
A small squeak came from your parted lips and her throaty chuckle only made you feel as if you were crumbling in her arms. Those hands on your hips gently pushed you out of the way, fingers plucking the spoon from your hand.
“Go on, go finish that patch of sky. I can finish up here,” she said, sounding as if she had no idea the turmoil she was causing you.
You simply nodded and wandered back to the dining table. You sat, staring at the pieces, trying to reel your thoughts back in. A finger absently ran along the sides of the puzzle, feeling the gaps for the missing pieces. It wasn’t that Melissa wasn’t tactile, sometimes she could be, but this whole thing was something more. A step further.
A little closer to the kind of relationship you wanted with her.
That night she curled up against you again, cheek resting on your shoulder in the flickering light of the tv, hand resting on the thigh hers was resting against. You spent the entire time holding your breath until she slipped away to her room.
Friday left you on tenterhooks. Once again she was normal right up until your return home after a day at school. You were considering retreating into your room and not emerging for the rest of the night. It felt as if she was playing a game with you and you hadn’t been informed of the rules.
And yet you kind of revelled in the attention, if only because it might be your only chance to pretend she wanted you the way you wanted her.
You weren’t given the chance to make the choice for yourself.
A knock on the sounded on your bedroom door once again. You flung on a shirt, covering up as best you could while in the middle of changing out of your work clothes. Pulling open the door, you looked down, finding yourself in one of the lacy camisoles you’d been trying on last weekend when going out with friends for a drink. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to contain the groan you wanted to release. When you opened your eyes it was to find a smirk and sparkling green eyes turned in your direction.
“I was coming to offer you a glass of wine but it looks like you might be going out,” she said.
Her eyes swept down your body and if you were a betting person, you thought her gaze might have lingered on the cleavage on display. You found your back arching, just a moment, until her eyes swept back to yours and her smirk only deepened.
“Come on down, hon. You ain’t going anywhere in those sweat pants,” she said.
“I’ll take that wine,” you said, needing to drown your embarrassment in something.
You trailed behind her down the stairs into the kitchen. It truly was the heart of the home in Melissa’s house. You hoisted yourself onto a bench as she poured the wine. As she’d pointed out, there was no chance you were about to head out in the sweats you were wearing, even if the lacy cami on the top was more dressed up than was normal for slouching around the house on a Friday night.
When she turned back around, her eyes seemed to light up. She sauntered towards you, both hands holding glasses of red wine. Offering you one, she drew closer. You took a deep drink, needing it more and more as she took another step closer to you. Her thumb came up, running along your lower lip, wiping away a drop of wine before she sucked it into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with you.
“Mel.” You felt as if you’d woken up into a dream, breathless and unsure of what you could do.
“Yes, hon?” Her voice had turned so husky you weren’t sure you were existing in real life anymore.
When you didn’t reply she took one last step forward, right between your thighs. One hand ran up your leg making fire lick through your veins and your cheeks heat under her gaze. Her lips ticked up into a smirk again, seeming to enjoy the trouble you were having at forming a sentence.
“What are you doing?” you finally managed to get out in a whisper.
“Aren’t you enjoying it?” she asked.
“I don’t…” It came out strangled, “Mel, please.”
“I’m trying to seduce you, hon,” she said, “is it working?”
You nodded, not sure you were capable of forming words. Just the thought she was trying to seduce was enough to send you into a coma. You hadn’t thought she would ever look at you the way you looked at her.
“C’mon, hon. You can do better than that. Say it.”
“It’s working,” you whispered, not sure you could deny her anything in this moment.
“Good girl.”
She drew ever closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You froze, eyes fluttering shut, waiting to see what she was going to do. A brush of lips, a soft sigh, fingers clenching around your thigh. You barely had the chance to enjoy it before she was stepping back from you. The whimper that came from you was embarrassing but the look on her face when you opened your eyes was smug.
“Mel,” you said again, not sure there were any words other than her anymore.
“Do you know the hell you’ve put me through since moving in? You’re so fucking hot and I don’t think you even know it. You’re the exact woman my Nonna warned my cousin Vinny about,” she said, almost groaning.
“I haven’t been doing anything,” you said, addressing the only thing you could.
“Parading around in your tight leggings and these little tops and those fucking shorts in the morning. And when you’re thinking about something your tongue pokes out and then all I can think about is reaching over and kissing you. Also did you know you hum to yourself when you think no one’s around. Fuck, when I see you in the kitchen humming and dancing I just want to pin you to the closest surface and fuck you until you can’t do anything but say my name.”
You weren’t sure you had a good response.
“Yeah but you wear tight trousers pretty much every day at work,” was your only come back.
“But you weren’t looking at me in them and thinking what it would feel like to have my legs wrapped around you,” she replied as if it was the most natural answer in the world.
“I fucking was,” you snapped, at the end of your rope. She’d been playing with you long enough, “christ sake, Mel. I’ve been thinking about you since the first time we met. You’re literally the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think you were interested.”
“Hon, I let you move into my house. What part of that says I’m not interested?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” you said, sounding angrier than you expected, “you might have just been trying to be a good friend.”
“Then let me be very clear.” She took a step back between your legs again, “I am very interested in you.”
You legs tightened around her hips, holding her in place as you lent forward. Your lips ghosted over hers and you were surprised by the noise that came from her. It was whiny and needy and she was straining towards you. You chuckled, drawing back.
“If you plan on seducing me, I expect to be wined and dined,” you said, “no more fooling around until you put some effort in and prove I’m worth it.”
“You fucking brat,” she laughed, a hand curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer.
She kissed you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, sending your thoughts spiralling away from you. Your knees tightened on her hips, your hands cupping her cheeks, indulging her for long enough to let her think she’d gotten her way. You nipped at her lower lip before drawing away.
“Wining and dining, Mel. I’m not some common whore,” you said, “I deserve romance.”
“There’s your wine,” she said, shoving the glass back into your hands, “I’ll make a start on dinner.”
You bit down on your lip, watching her slam down a knife on the cutting board, grumbling under her breath, trying to hold in a grin. The glare she gave you broke the flood gates as giggles tumbled from your lips.
“You keep on like this and I’ll stop seducing you,” she threatened.
“You stop and I’ll wear those shorts you like all weekend,” you retaliated.
You caught her arm, drawing her in for another kiss, just enough to remind her what was waiting. She softened, gently squeezing your leg before going back to cooking. You watched her, finding yourself falling more and more for her, the anticipation delicious, the woman beautiful.
And maybe moving into her home was the best thing to ever happen to you.
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Ong BDSM Blake would be so interesting!
I’m sure it would be if I could ever finish it. It’ll certainly be a long one
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The Lesso fics are really 👀👀👀 I'm intrigued~~~
If I get my act together you might even get them soon
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YOU HAVE A LYDIA TAR FIC?!?!?!? Do you think it has a chance to be on your masterlist? 👀
I was working on it this afternoon so yeah, it’ll probably end up on my masterlist
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WIP Game
Thanks for the tag @storiesofsvu
Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!
Apologies in advance. I don't title my stuff until after it's written so none of these are titled properly at all
Possessive Larissa fic
Lesso fic when a student has a crush
Lesso fic where you save her life
Makeover Lesso fic
Soft!Lesso fic
BDSM Blake fic
Chief!Emily request
Missing Blake fic
Types of touch with Melissa
Meeting Melissa at a wedding
Soulmate!Melissa fic
Moving into Melissa's spare room
Meeting Rebecca at a ski lodge
Rebecca request
Lydia Tár fic
None of them have proper titles and none of them make a whole lot of sense. Some are so old so who knows if I remember where they were going.
Feel free to ask about any of them. I love talking about my writing. I'm probably writing right now so it's the perfect time to ask.
tagging some cool people, don't feel like you have to participate
@whiteberryx @nightmarish-fae @penguinwithitsarseonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @alexusonfire
#larissa weems x reader#alex blake x reader#lady lesso x reader#melissa schemmenti x reader#emily prentiss x reader#rebecca welton x reader#lydia tár x reader
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hi!! I was wondering if you could write a melissa schemmenti x fem!reader fic where r is a teacher and at some point she's reading smut in the break room when no one is around but melissa finds out? whether it ends up nsfw or not is up to you :)
thank you 💖
Red Haired Protagonist (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
Words: 3k
Warnings: mentions of smut, anxiety, mentions of blood
It might not have been a wise use of your time, but using your single free period to sit in the break room, book in hand, indulging in the spicer side of fantasy was what you found yourself doing. You sighed, the red haired protagonist sweeping up the love interest. Kisses exchanged in shadows, fingertips running over skin, growling into ears as hands explored previously unmapped skin. Your lower lip was caught between teeth as you read, caught up in the world being created on the page.
The bell rang and you startled, book falling from your hands. You scrambled to pick it up, only managing to push it further under the sofa as footsteps began to sound outside the door. You sat up straight as the door was pushed open, cheeks heated and embarrassment curdling in you gut.
“There ya are, hon,” Melissa said, striding into the room, “one of your kids is with the nurse. Took a dodgeball to the face. Blood everywhere. He’ll be fine but don’t panic when you see it on his clothes.”
“Oh, thanks. If it’s Kenny I’m sure he’ll be fine. He once ran into a wall face first and barely seemed to notice. He’s got a skull made of concrete,” you said.
She huffed out a laugh as she sat beside you. You shared a smile, book forgotten as you basked in her attention. Whenever you were on the receiving end of her attention, you felt privileged, your heart beating a little harder, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Knowing she’d chosen you to give her time to when so few were worthy of that privilege filled you with such a sense of pride, wonder making you flush under her assessing gaze.
“The kid’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you. What were doing in here while your kids were in the gym?” she asked, leaning back, one leg curled up on the sofa cushion between the two of you.
“Nothing. Just lesson planning,” you replied, trying not to break eye contact. She could smell a lie from a mile away.
Her arm came to rest on the back of the sofa, leaning towards you. You held your breath, her sparkling green eyes drawing closer, leaving you in danger of drowning in them.
“You ain’t got any paper or a pen,” she said.
“I was doing it on my phone,” you said, a slightly breathless giggle leaving your lips.
“Whatever you say, hon,” she said, leaning back again.
You made your excuses as Barbra entered the room, leaving the two women to talk. Scuttling back to your classroom, you did your best to ignore the way your heart was beating so fast from her close presence. And thanks to her heads up you didn’t have a panic attack when you saw Kenny’s blood splattered shirt after lunch.
You managed to make it to the end of the day, the book left behind slipping your mind. Between dealing with a glue crisis and trying to explain fractions through the use of pictures of apples the passionate embraces of two women on the pages of a fantasy story stopped being in the forefront of your mind, replaced with your kids and the questions they were asking. Which meant, when Melissa knocked on your door about twenty minutes after the kids had left for the day, you wondered what she was doing there.
“Hey there, hon,” she said, sauntering into your classroom.
“Hi,” you said, leaning back in your seat, letting out a long breath.
She perched on the edge of your desk, turning your mouth dry and your heart pumping fast. She crossed her arms, staring down at you, lips pulling up into a secretive smile that had your heart skipping a beat. You found yourself leaning towards her, the centre of gravity shifting to revolve around her.
“What are you doing here?” you asked her, “not that I never enjoy seeing you.”
You cursed your unfiltered thoughts slipping past your lips.
“I think you left something behind in the break room today,” she said.
“What?” You felt your smile freeze on your face.
“I’m no chump. I know when someone is trying to keep a secret. Now usually I don’t care.” She shrugged, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, “but it’s you. Found it under the sofa. Not the best hiding place. You really want something to disappear try the wall behind the cafeteria.”
“What?” you repeated, not sure you were following her train of thought. All you could focus on was that you were the exception to the rule about caring. You were special.
“That poster about the fruit is covering a hole. No one can reach anything down there anymore,” she said, “I dug out your contraband.”
“Is it contraband if I’m not in prison?” you asked, not needing an answer.
“Why’d you hide it? You think I’ll make fun of you for reading? I love reading,” she said.
“No, I just…” You fumbled for words, trying to explain it without explaining the real reason, “I figured maybe the content would be… I don’t want people seeing me reading it.”
“What’s in it? Is it porn?” she asked, her interest level seeming to peak.
Your flushed cheeks and inability to look her in the eye seemed to only make her more interested. She laughed, that same laugh that gave you butterflies and made you seek her out. When your eyes darted up to her again, she was leaning towards you, as if trying to read you like the book that was now in her possession.
“I think I’m gonna keep it over the weekend. Call it a finder’s fee,” she said, “can’t wait to see what kind of dirty books you enjoy.”
“Mel, no, please don’t,” you said, fingers grasping onto the cuff of her jacket.
She looked down at it as your fingertip grazed her skin. The way her eyes looked as she turned them back to you had your breath catching.
“How bad can it be, hon?” she asked, voice taking on a husky tone.
“I just…” You didn’t want to admit exactly how much it would reveal.
“Come on, hon. It’ll be fun. We can talk about all the dirty details on Monday,” she said.
“We sharing dirty details in here?” Ava asked, surprising both of you.
She was standing in the doorway, looking in at the two of you. You hadn’t realised how close Melissa had grown to you, how close she was leaning until you jerked back, putting more distance between the two of you.
“Girl, you know I got the tea,” she said, sauntering into the room.
“I don’t wanna know it,” Melissa said, getting up from the edge of your desk.
“Aw, c’mon girl, let’s spill. Guess who I got grinding up on me in the club last night,” she said.
“See ya Monday,” Melissa called over her shoulder before Ava could go any further.
“Come on, guess,” she said, turning her entire attention onto you.
“No thank you,” you said, rising from your seat and collecting your bag.
“You’re no fun,” she called after your retreating back, “now you’ll never know who wanted this fine piece of ass.”
It wasn’t until you were home that you realised you hadn’t managed to get your book back from Melissa before she read it. You cursed Ava for distracting you when you’d been so close to getting it back before she knew. Before she knew exactly the kind of books you read and what they said about you.
You held out until Sunday night.
The anxiety had been building and you couldn’t take it anymore. Thoughts had been swirling in your head all weekend. Thoughts about what she’d think about you after seeing exactly the kind of thing you’d been reading. You didn’t want to know what she’d say on Monday. You weren’t sure you could ever look her in the eye again if she knew.
The thought of her asking you questions about it was too much.
Your fist was insistent as you hammered on her front door. You stumbled through it as she pulled it open, looking less than pleased to be disturbed. Her anger morphed into surprise as she caught you around the elbow, keeping you from landing on your face.
“Hon? What are you doing here?” she asked, slow to close the door on the outside world.
“I need that book back,” you said, so focused you couldn’t even feel embarrassment for almost falling.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“The book. The one you found. I need it back,” you said, “have you read it? Please say no.”
“Calm down, hon,” she said, her hand rubbing your arm.
“I can’t. Not until I have the book back,” you said.
“This couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“No.”
She looked down at you, concern swimming in those green eyes. You couldn’t catch your breath and you needed to know if she’d read it but you also didn’t want to know.
“Alright, hon. Come on. Sit down and I’ll bring it to you.”
She was gentle as she guided you into her living room, lowering you onto her plastic covered sofa. Your knee was bobbing as you were left to your own devices, Melissa slipping from the room. You listened to her footsteps on the stairs, ascending above your head. The floorboards above creaked and all you could focus on was the well of anxiety in your chest making you want to chase her.
You pressed your hands beneath your thighs, eyes flitting around the room. Picture after picture filled the room, showing Melissa with all of her family. You focused on them, trying to piece together Melissa’s life story if only to keep from hyper focusing on her footsteps above.
“Here it is,” she said, startling you.
You stood, snatching the book out of her hand. Your thumb traced over the cover, the words splashed over the front, the two women on the front embracing. Your cheeks heated and you looked up at her.
“Did you read it?” you asked.
“What do you take me for?” she replied. You let out a long relieved breath of air, “I haven’t had time to read all of it yet.”
“What?” Your head snapped up.
Those green eyes were twinkling and your stomach fell out your ass. She chuckled, low in her throat, placing her hands back on the book and tugging you a step closer.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you hon?” she murmured.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, not able to admit it.
“You left your bookmark in it, hon,” she said, tapping the cover.
“I don’t…” You tried again, before your shoulders slumped, giving up before you even started.
“Hey,” she said, gently tugging on the end of your hair, “no shame. We all get off to something.”
“I don’t get off to it,” you snapped, “it’s… I like the story.”
“Sure, hon.”
You shook your head, stepping back from her. You knew she wouldn’t get it. No one ever got it. Better to keep it secret rather than have people think you were some kind of deviant freak. When everyone else found out you’d be ostracised. No more shared donuts in the break room.
“You know, I couldn’t help notice that the characters in that… story seemed a bit familiar,” she said, clearly not noticing you wilting.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you muttered, “thanks for the book. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You wanted to slink out of her house, tail between your legs, to worry about the impact knowing she’d read it would have on you. Warm fingers closed around your wrist, making you freeze. You couldn’t even look at her, the shame curling around your heart, squeezing it painfully.
“Hon, where are you going?” she asked.
“Home,” you whispered.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m trying to lighten the mood,” she said, fingers tightening around your wrist, “don’t leave yet.”
“Why? So you can make fun of me some more?” you snapped, whirling towards her.
“No,” she said, “so I can do this.”
Fingers curled around your chin and you found soft lips pressed against yours. You froze again, every synapse in your brain firing at once and yet your entire nervous system seemed to stop working. Your hand landed on her hip, not quite pulling her closer but not quite pushing her away either. You needed to ground yourself, to not feel as if this was happening to someone else or in your imagination.
She let you go, worry overtaking her expression as she drew away. You blinked then surged forward as she opened her mouth to say something. Your teeth clashed with hers and she chuckled as you winced. Her tongue licked into your mouth as she took control of the kiss. You melted, the hand on her hip pulling her closer, wanting to feel all those gorgeous curves against your body.
She mumbled something into your mouth but you were beyond caring. After months of imagining kissing her, sinking into fantasy any chance you could get, this was a dream come true. Only this was better than any dream you could have come up with.
“Fuck, hon,” she murmured against your lips, “do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”
You kissed her deeper, your self-control all but in tatters. She groaned into your mouth, the fingers on your chin sliding up to tangle in your hair. The thump of the book dropping from your hand was muffled in your mind, so focused on her. Your newly free hand pressed between her shoulder blades, arm curling around her body to hold her closer.
She was slow to draw back, ignoring your whimper. She was soft as she gently tucked a strand of hair behind you ear. You were looking at her like she was the stars, beautiful and untouchable and yet right there still in your arms.
“Are you okay?” she asked, voice raspy and lips kiss stung.
“No,” you replied, “you stopped kissing me.”
Her throaty chuckle made your own smile spread across your face. She lent forward, giving you another chaste kiss. You hummed, arms tightening around her.
“Really, hon, are you okay?” she asked again.
“I think so,” you replied, really thinking about it, “I mean, I’ve wanted to kiss you since we met. I just didn’t know if that was something you’d want too.”
“Course I wanna kiss you. You’re hot. But more importantly, I like ya, hon. Barb says I’ve been obvious and you must be blind not to notice,” she said.
“Maybe I just didn’t want to get my hopes up in case I was wrong,” you said.
“You’re not wrong,” she said, softening before your very eyes.
Your breath caught, being offered the chance to see Melissa being so soft. She was smiling at you, and her eyes were sparkling, and all you wanted was to melt against her. She tugged on the end of your hair.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That I’m really lucky,” you replied, “and I guess I’m wondering why now? I mean, you see me almost every day and you’ve never said anything. So what’s changed?”
“That book of yours, hon. I meant it when I said the characters seemed familiar. The descriptions are kinda similar to two people in this room right now. I don’t know if you noticed that but I sorta thought it was because you wanted to do those kind of things with me at least a little bit,” she said, “you gotta think I’m sexy if you want someone who looks like me to do that to someone who looks like you.”
“I do think you’re sexy,” you said, voice a bit faint.
Admittedly, you hadn’t wanted her to figure out that you had been reading a smutty book with two characters who bared more than a passing resemblance to the two of you. You thought it would gross her out and she’d never look you in the eye again. You hadn’t thought it would encourage her to kiss you. Certainly not when you were in the process of fleeing her house.
“It’s because I am,” she said, but you could see her relax with your words.
“You really like me?” you asked, needing some more reassurance of your own.
“I like you a whole lot, hon,” she replied, her eyes twinkling at you as she smiled, soft and engaging, making your heart flutter.
“Okay, good,” you said, “because I like you a whole lot too.”
Both of your hands settled on her hips, pulling her closer again, not able to stop yourself from touching her. Her own arms found their way around your neck, seemingly not able to stop herself either.
“And I guess I do want to do those things in the book with you,” you admitted, “but maybe not right now. Maybe after I’ve taken you on a date.”
“You’re going to take me on a date?” she asked, the pleasant surprise evident in her voice.
“I am. But you need to give me some time to plan it. I wasn’t expecting this to happen tonight and I want it to be special. Friday night?”
“Friday night,” she agreed.
You stared at her a moment longer before pressing your lips to hers, a desperation you weren’t used to feeling taking over. She sighed into your mouth and you thought you might be in heaven.
“You should go,” she mumbled against your lips, “or else I might not be convinced we shouldn’t do those things tonight.”
You chuckled, pressing another lingering kiss to her lips before stepping back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” you murmured.
You bent to retrieve your book, intending to take it home with you.
“Leave the book,” she said, “I’m going to need to study up if we’re going to be doing those things on Friday.”
Your mouth fell open but you left the book there, on the carpet of her living room, waiting to be read by your red haired protagonist when she swept you off your feet.
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Storybook Love (Alex Blake x f!Reader)
Synopsis: You have a request for Alex
Words: 0.9k
Warnings: fluff
AN: Just a little thing for @storiesofsvu, @rustyzebra and @whiteberryx
It was a warm afternoon, the air sunlit where it kissed your skin. Lying on a blanket in the backyard, the grass green beneath, summer was on the breeze and you couldn’t wait for it. Your teeth sunk into a ripe strawberry, the juice dripping down your chin. You wiped it away, tongue lapping it from the skin of your fingers.
A soft chuckle stole your attention. Glancing up, over the top of your sunglasses, you found Alex sauntering towards her. Hair loose, caught in a waft of wind, she was a vision of beauty in the warm light. Bare feet were light as she walked over the grass towards you.
“Do you mean to be so tempting or is it just an innate quality you possess, sweetheart?” she asked, standing over you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, grinning impishly up at her.
She settled beside you, legs crossed, graceful and beautiful, making you yearn even as she was right in front of you, close enough to touch. You reached out, offering the next plump strawberry to her. She lent forward, lips wrapping around the tip before biting it off. You smiled, taking your own bite from the strawberry.
“Have you been out here all afternoon?” she asked, leaning back on her hands.
“Someone has to lounge around and look pretty,” you replied, “and you were too busy grading those papers to fulfil the role.”
“Maybe I was too busy admiring you from the window,” she said.
Even after all those years with her, you still got butterflies anytime she flirted with you. She reached out, fingers playing with the ends of your hair as you gazed up at her. The sun no longer existed, her smile the warm glow that lit you up from inside out. You rolled over, lying on your stomach, leaning up on your elbows.
“And were you?” you asked.
“Was I what?” she asked in reply.
“Admiring me,” you answered.
“Always.”
Her fingers were soft as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering on your jaw. Your cheeks flushed with heat, blinking up at her. She lifted the sunglasses from the bridge of your nose, tossing them aside. Leaning down, you met her halfway in a soft kiss, sweet as the strawberries you’d been eating. She drew away, a thumb brushing along your lower lip.
“You certainly are irresistible,” she murmured.
“Stop it, you’re going to inflate my ego,” you said, pulling away from her, lying back again.
“Well, we can’t have that,” she chuckled.
You hummed in agreement, placing another strawberry between your parted lips. She watched you for a moment. Picking up your sunglasses, she put them on her own nose, sliding them up slowly with her index finger. She chuckled when your teeth sunk into your lower lip, eyes skating over her body.
She opened the book you’d been reading earlier, spine broken and pages almost falling out from how many times you’d read it. You watched her, one hand shading your eyes, the sun behind her giving her a halo.
“Read to me,” you requested, not able to stop yourself.
“What?” She glanced up from the pages, lips curling up at the corner, just enough to have your heart beating double time.
“Read to me,” you repeated.
She considered you for a moment, just long enough to make you burn for her.
“Alright,” she said, “but come here.”
You shuffled over, lying your head in her lap. Her fingers were soft as they carded through your hair. You closed your eyes, listening to her voice. It was soft, almost raspy, as it caressed the familiar words. You felt yourself relaxing under her touch, her voice in your ear, the warmth of her thighs under your cheek.
You sighed, listening to the rise and fall of her voice. She played with the end of your hair, book held aloft in long fingers that had more than once distracted you from your train of thought. The warm air brushed over your bare skin in a caress. You turned your head, pressing a kiss to the cotton covered thigh beneath your head. She paused for a moment, fingertips brushing the apple of your cheek before continuing.
As the sun began to set, brilliant colors splashed across the sky, the air began to chill. Summer might be on the breeze but it had yet to sink into the ground. You shivered, curling up against her. Her arm curled around your waist, hauling you closer, thumb running in circles over the skin bared from where your shirt had bunched up.
“Do you want to go inside, sweetheart?” she asked with the dimming light.
“Will you keep reading to me?” you asked, looking up at her with wide eyes and promise.
“If you want me to,” she replied.
“I do. I really really do.”
You let her stand, a hand extended to you. Pulling you up, you stumbled forward, caught around the waist by a sure arm. You looked up into her smiling face, your answering smile only making her eyes twinkle. You lent up on tiptoes, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips.
“My knight in shining armour,” you whispered.
“Come on, princess,” she said, that arm around your waist guiding you back into the house, “lets see if I can save you from the dragon.”
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She Said What (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
Synopsis: Seeing Gary get down on one knee shattered you. Tasting Melissa on your lips put you back together again.
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: none
It was like taking a knife to the gut, twisting in your intestines, leaving you gasping for breath. You weren’t meant to be there. Eyes darting around the room, you were desperate for escape. You couldn’t breathe. One step back, then another, you fled down the hall before you could hear the answer.
Gary had asked Melissa to marry him. And you, like an idiot, had fallen completely in love with her.
When it had been nothing but a relationship, kept on the outskirts, it was easier. Avoiding the break room on Tuesdays, not asking about weekend plans or prying to much into her relationship, you could keep your friendship with her devoid of any details. It was easier that way. You couldn’t be plagued of thoughts of the two of them together. If you didn’t think about it, your jealousy couldn’t run rampant, ruining your friendship with her.
Now though…
You’d be seeing the ring on her finger. You might be invited to the wedding. She might change her last name. It would be everywhere, in your face, reminding you how the woman you love was not yours to love. That your chance with her had slipped away.
Career day was a bust and you needed escape and yet you were trapped in your classroom with the kids, praying the clock would speed up and you would have your freedom. Right now, Melissa was somewhere in the building, a new sparkly ring on her finger, joy in her heart, desperate to go home and celebrate with her new fiancé.
You felt sick at the thought.
The bell rung and you thanked the mechanic who had come to speak to your class, shaking his oil stained hand. Sinking down onto your chair, you buried your head in your hands, letting out a long breath. You would have groaned if not for being in a place anyone walking past could hear. All you wanted was to pack up your stuff and go home, curling up in your bed and letting yourself give in to the pressure building behind your eyes.
“You look like you’ve had a day about as good as mine.”
You startled, looking up from the hands your head was resting in. Melissa was walking into your classroom, hands thrust into the pockets of her leather jacket. You blinked, trying to rearrange your face into something celebratory, not the despair you’d been feeling all afternoon. Stretching your lips into a smile, you felt it stiffen as you looked at her.
“Hey,” you said, “congratulations. I saw the feed. It was a beautiful proposal.”
“It was,” she agreed, resting against the edge of one of the student’s desks, much as she had at the front of her classroom when Gary got down on one knee.
“You must be so happy,” you said.
“Not really,” she replied with a small shrug.
“Well, not when you’re here with me but I bet Gary is waiting at home for you to celebrate,” you said, offering her a sheepish smile.
“He better not be. I don’t need another restraining order,” she said.
“Ha, yeah,” you said, “wait, what?”
She quirked an eyebrow up at you. You had no ides what was going on, on the back foot of the conversation so quickly. When her lips quirked up, you lost any words to try and fix whatever situation you’d found yourself in.
“Hon, did you see my answer?” she asked.
“Of course I did,” you replied, laughing uncomfortably.
She sighed, shoulders relaxing, “I said no.”
“What?” That was not what you were expecting.
“I said no. You know I have no interest in being married again. He didn’t listen no matter how many times I told him. We want different things,” she said.
‘So you…?” You didn’t want to assume after your last assumption had gone so badly.
“We broke up,” she said.
“Oh, Mel, I’m so sorry.”
You made your way around your desk, perching beside her. You found her leaning against your shoulder, soft hair brushing against you as you curled an arm around her waist. Her head rested against you, shifting closer.
“It’s better we realised. No resentment, no cheating, no attempted murder. A clean break before anyone could get really hurt,” she said.
“Still, it sucks,” you said.
“Yeah, it does,” she sighed.
“I really am sorry,” you said.
“Really? I always got the impression you didn’t really like him,” she said.
You stiffened. She drew away from you, turning those beautiful green eyes onto you. You tried to stutter out an answer, to refute her claim, to lie right to her face. But there was nothing. No words came out and you were left staring at her, anxiety swooping in your stomach.
“You were never comfortable when I talked about him so I stopped but I always wondered what was wrong with him,” she said.
“Is that why you said no?” Guilt curled in your stomach.
“Of course not. I really don’t want to get married again. Once was enough. I guess I’m just curious what you saw in him,” she said.
“I didn’t really know him,” you said, offering her a non-committal shrug.
“But you didn’t like him,” she said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.
“It was nothing about him. I’m sure he was fine. Nice even. And you loved him. He wasn’t a bad guy as far as I could tell,” you said.
“He’s not. But I thought we were good enough friends that you’d be honest with me,” she said.
Guilt again, washing over you, wave after wave. She was still looking at you, a small lopsided smile both sad and hopeful. You sighed, leaning into her again, not wanting those eyes assessing you anymore.
“It wasn’t about him. I mean sure, I thought you could do better but it was more to do with me. I didn’t want that to get between us and ruin our friendship,” you said.
“Can’t you just tell me what the issue was?” she asked.
“I don’t think that will make you feel better,” you said.
She hopped off the desk, moving to stand in front of you. You swallowed past a lump in your throat, averting your eyes down to your hands clasped between your thighs. With a forefinger, she tilted your chin up until you were looking back in her eyes.
“I can handle it, hon,” she said.
“Mel,” you sighed, not sure how to finish the sentence.
“It can’t be that bad,” she said, “unless he was the man who mugged your nanna.”
“I don’t think he was,” you said, giving her a weak smile.
“So what is it?”
The finger on your chin was practically burning your skin. You took a deep breath, anxiety making your fingertips tingle and your stomach roil. She was still watching you and you couldn’t tell what emotion it was swimming in her eyes.
“I didn’t want to hear about your relationship because… because…” You squeezed your eyes shut, “because I was jealous.”
“Aw, hon, you’ll find your guy one day,” she said, gently nudging you in the shoulder.
That was not the answer you were expecting. You peeked over to her, her smile softened as she looked at you. You shook your head.
“Not of your relationship,” you said, shoulders slumping, not wanting to keep the secret after coming so close to telling her, “of him.”
“What?” she asked, her smile slipping for a moment.
“Mel,” you sighed, “I’ve been half in love with you for a while now. And I’m sorry that it didn’t work out with Gary because I don’t like you hurting. I don’t want you think this is me trying to swoop in the second you’re single. I’m not that unfeeling.”
The smile had completely left her face, eyes widening and the shock evident. You could only stare at her, waiting for some kind of reaction. Mostly you were waiting to be told to get the hell away from her and never speak to her again. Her hands landed on your knees, fingers digging in as she gripped you hard.
“Hon,” she said, voice catching and you squeezed your eyes closed again, waiting for the slap, “can you look at me?”
You opened your eyes again. She was peering into your face, eyes swimming with an emotion you couldn’t name. Her lips were quirked at the corners, just enough for your heart to begin beating double time. Hands slid further up your legs as she lent towards you. You didn’t know what was going on and you were scared to move. Frozen under her touch, all you could do was stare back at her.
“I wish I’d known. I wish you’d told me,” she said.
“Would it have made a difference?” you asked.
“Of course, hon. If I’d known…” She shook her head.
“It’s fine. I won’t make it weird. We can still be friends. It’ll be like you never knew,” you said, panic beginning to set in. You were desperate not to lose her in all of this. This was like your worst nightmare coming to life before your very eyes.
“I didn’t just break up with Gary because he wanted to get married,” she said, interrupting you before you could continue rambling your reassurances, “there was a part of me that knew I had feelings for you. He couldn’t be my miracle when there was someone else.”
“What?” You couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.
“I wish you’d said something earlier, hon. If I’d known then Gary and I would have never gotten to this point,” she said. Her hands were still moving further up your legs until they were holding your hips.
“I don’t understand,” you said.
“Hon, I’m saying I have feelings for you too,” she said, a smile breaking over her face, bright and heartbreaking and everything you’d wanted to see for so long, “I know this probably isn’t the right time to say it but you’re hot and I like you.”
“You just broke up with Gary,” you said.
“I did. Doesn’t change how I feel about you,” she said, shrugging.
“This is an emotional rollercoaster.” Your lips stretched into a smile, small and soft and the way she seemed to melt at the sight of it only had you reeling again, “isn’t this too soon?”
“Yeah, probably, so we’ll take it slow,” she said.
“Slow?”
“Look, I dunno how this is gonna go but I do know that I like you enough that I want to give this a go. I’ve been single for a few hours and I’m probably going to have to deal with stuff from ending my relationship with Gary so we’ll take it slow and figure it out together. Sound good?”
You thought about it, turning it over in your mind. You’d thought, in your wildest dreams, that if you were offered the chance to be with Melissa you’d grab it with both hands but coming right off the back of her break up it felt… tenuous. But giving it a chance might be the best thing you could do, if only to not have to think about the what if on your death bed.
“Slow sounds good,” you said.
She relaxed, as if she’d been bracing herself for rejection. The smile on her face grew more sure of itself, more playful as she lent in. You shivered when her breath hit your skin, and you looked up into sparkling green eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up under her gaze and blinked, trying to take in her beauty. Trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, you worried at it, breath frozen, watching her with wide eyes and racing heart.
“Must say, hon, you’re pretty cute when you’re nervous,” she said.
“Nervous?” you managed to squeak out, “I’m not nervous.”
“No?” she asked, drawing closer again, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “are you sure?”
“Mel,” came out as a strangled noise, “this doesn’t feel slow.”
“Feels like I’m moving pretty slowly to me,” she replied, lips slow to press to your cheek.
A small noise came from your parted lips. She chuckled, drawing back far enough for you to see the way her eyes were smouldering as they focused in on your lips. You found yourself leaning toward her, drawn into her orbit, the gravity of her dragging you closer.
“I suppose one kiss isn’t so fast,” you murmured.
“I’m glad you agree,” she said.
Her lips pressed to yours, muffling a gasp. Arms wound around her neck, fingers burying themselves in red curls. Her fingers dug into your hips, hauling you closer until you were on the edge of the desk, her body caught between your thighs. Her tongue ran along your lower lip, teeth nipping when you moaned into her mouth.
If this was slow, you could get on board with it.
She drew back, making you whimper, fingers tightening on her hair. She placed one last chaste kiss to your lips before disentangling your fingers. The step she took back made you feel bereft before you reminded yourself that today wasn’t about you. You couldn’t imagine the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on that day. Your’s had been bad enough.
“Can we renegotiate this going slow thing?” she asked.
“No,” you laughed, no matter how much you wished you could, “we should go slow. I mean, what are your plans tonight?”
“Drinking wine until I don’t feel embarrassed that I turned down a proposal in front of Jalen Hurts,” she replied.
“Exactly,” you said, giving her an indulgent smile even as your heart raced.
She chuckled, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, taking another step back from you. Your teeth sunk into your lip, swollen from her kisses, as you considered her.
“You might be onto something,” she said.
“But maybe, when the embarrassment has dimmed a bit, we can go out,” you said.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said.
“Great, well…” A smile was taking over your face, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I suppose you will,” she said.
Watching her back out of the room, all you wanted to do was reach out and pull her back to you. She paused in the doorway before she strode back to you, both hands cupping your cheeks and kissing you so thoroughly you lost any train of thought you might have been having. Nodding to herself, she turned her back on you, striding out. You watched her, dumbstruck, wondering how you’d somehow managed to get so lucky.
From the absolute travesty of seeing Gary propose to her to ending with the promise of a date and the taste of her still on your lips. You had no idea how you’d gotten so lucky.
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Hello, would you consider writing a unit chief Emily Prentiss x R story? Where reader has nipple piercings and one day at the air conditioner at the BAU breaks so readers in a tank top so the outline of them is noticeable. And of course Derek is the first to notice so he loudly points it out which draws the teams attention to them, and let’s just say Emily very intrigued with them. You could right smut for it if you want to but if not that’s okay.
The Heatwave
Words: 4.3k
Warnings: choking, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, strap on, alcohol, piercings
“You can’t be serious. Thursday? In the middle of this heatwave? We’re going to die.”
Listening to Garcia complain to Morgan was not helping you concentrate on the report Emily wanted on her desk. You swiped the back of your wrist along your forehead, wiping away the sweat threatening to drip into your eye. Your hair was tied up, exposing the back of your neck, begging for a breeze to come along. You needed some sweet relief or you might collapse at your desk.
Summer was particularly brutal that year. You’d been sweating on your commute to and from the office, the air con the only thing keeping you going through the day. But yesterday there had been a weird noise, a shudder in the vents and the cold air had stopped. You weren’t you’d managed to dry out since.
Wiping more sweat away, you sighed. Your tank top was doing nothing to save you from the fires of hell licking at your skin. You groaned, head thunking against the desk.
“See? Brink of death already,” Garcia said, standing behind you.
“I’m not dead,” you said, muffled into the wood of your desk.
“Yet. I’m going to have to go flirt with the maintenance guy and he always stares because he knows that I am a prime woman that he can not keep up with,” she said.
“Of course you are, baby girl. Now go work that pretty face of yours,” Morgan said.
You sighed, sitting up again. It’s not as if you’d be getting any work done with them at your desk, and nor could you nap in the heat. Just the feeling of your skin was making you feel insane.
“When are they going to fix this damned thing?” Emily said, striding out of her office, file clutched in her hand. You felt your heart skip a beat. She was hotter than the heatwave you were going through, and even sweaty, she still made you catch your breath. It wasn’t fair how sexy she was when you were a gross mess.
“Thursday,” Garcia called over to her.
“Can’t we do something about that? she asked, striding over to the huddle that had sprung up at your desk.
“Do you want to flirt with the maintenance guy?” Garcia asked.
“The one with the lazy eye or the one who always smells like cheese?” she asked.
“That’s the same person and yes, that one,” she replied.
Emily shook her head, nose wrinkled. Garcia sighed, crossing her arms over her chest then immediately uncrossing them.
“Hey, what’s that on your chest?” Morgan asked, pointing.
You looked down, not able to see anything out the ordinary. You looked back up, finding him staring at your chest. Then it clicked. You knew he’d been too quiet, and you’d been so distracted by Emily that you hadn’t noticed.
“Are you staring at my tits?” you asked him.
“No,” he said, looking up to your eye, “yes.”
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, much in the way Garcia had. It only pushed your tits up, making them more obvious. Garcia was openly looking, eyebrows drawing together until realisation dawned over her face. Emily’s eyes darted down then up to your face again, tongue darting out to drag along her bottom lip. The tension that had been stretching between the two of you for weeks was making you arch your back just a little, giving her a better view.
“Not that it’s anyone’s business,” you said, trying to not get flustered from the heat in Emily’s gaze, “but I have my nipples pierced.”
You lifted your chin, waiting for one of them to say something. A grin spread over Morgan’s face and you could already hear the comments. You glared, waiting for him to say something.
“The girls like that, huh?” he asked.
“They don’t hate it,” you replied.
You couldn’t bare to look at Emily. You might implode if you did. Her reaction could either make or break your ability to think around her. Although, you were hoping she was one of the girls who didn’t hate it.
“Now, if we’re done talking about my nipples, I believe Garcia has a maintenance man to flirt with so none of us die before Thursday,” you said.
You turned back to your computer, your report waiting for you. You did your best to continue working, feeling the weight of the three people standing behind you slow to move away. You were done talking about it in front of your boss, who happened to be the one person you thought about when your fingers were buried deep within you.
“Turns out flirting with Manny in maintenance did nothing. He’s called a guy from the air conditioning company to come fix it and wouldn’t give me his number so I could flirt with him,” Garcia said, stopping by your desk, “so pool party at Rossi’s tonight. You in?”
“Does he know you’re hosting a pool party at his place?” you asked.
“Of course,” she said, “bring your best bikini.”
It was a relief to change into your bikini after work. The cool brush of air on your skin before you pulled on a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt. The air con in your car was the only thing getting you through the drive, bare thighs sticking to the leather of the seat. You parked, staring up at the big house. You jumped when someone knocked on your window.
“Hey,” you said, stepping out of your car.
“So they roped you into this too, huh?” Emily said, closing the door for you, trapping you against the car. Your eyes flicked down her body, a tank top and jeans covering whatever swimsuit she had on. You hadn’t thought about the possibility of seeing her in one when you’d agreed to come.
“Are you kidding? Free pool and free drinks? Count me in,” you said.
She chuckled, those dark eyes sweeping over you. Your skin felt on fire and you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat wave or from the sexy woman in front of you.
“Earlier, at the office,” she said, that tongue you’d dreamt about dragging along her lower lip, “when you were talking about-“
“Are you two going to stand out there all night or are you going to come get wet?”
You jumped, back hitting the side of your car as you startled. Garcia was standing in the doorway, looking at the two of you like you’d both lost your minds. You laughed, trying to cover the dirty thoughts slipping through your mind at Garcia’s words.
“Come on,” you said.
You slipped past her, body brushing against hers. Her eyes were still trained on you, sweeping over your body, and you were trying your best not to read too much into it. You combed your fingers through your hair, pulling it up into a ponytail to get it off the sticky skin of your neck. With your back to her, you missed the way Emily watched you, eyes darkening and lips pulling up into a smirk.
You were quick to pick up an ice cold beer as you passed through the kitchen, plucking it from the cooler. Derek flung his arm over your shoulders, already dripping from the pool. You wrinkled your nose, shoving his arm off you.
“What took you so long?” Morgan asked, “changing into more pool appropriate jewellery?”
“You keep that up and you’ll never get out of that pool,” you replied.
“Do you have to change them to make them pool safe?” Garcia asked.
“Change what?” Spencer asked, dipping his toe into the pool, trousers rolled up to his ankles.
“My piercings. They’re the big news of the day,” you replied, “we’re not talking about this any more.”
“But you don’t have your ears-“
You shoved Reid in the shoulder. His arms windmilled before he fell forward, a large splash going up, water landing on your bare legs. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep the giggles in. They burst from you, unwilling to be contained. He was gasping for air when he emerged from the water, hair plastered to his face.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Emily chided, coming up behind you.
“I told him we weren’t talking about it anymore,” you said.
“Of course you were,” she said.
You weren’t expecting her hands landing on your shoulders, warm through the thin cotton of your shirt. With very little effort, she shoved you backwards, straight into the cold water of the pool. Your shriek was cut off as you went under.
Spluttering, you surfaced from the water. The laughter was surrounding you. You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of the pool, offering a hand to Reid to pull him out after you.
“Alright, point taken,” you said, “can we stop talking about my nipples now?”
“Oh.” Spencer’s face turned into a tomato.
You reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Wringing it out over the pool, you didn’t notice the way Emily’s eyes were lingering on your bare skin, water dripping down your body. You turned, slinging the shirt over one of the loungers, once again failing to notice how Emily’s eyes lingered where your piercings were pressing up against your bikini top.
“Alright, I’m getting another beer since mine is now at the bottom of the pool,” you said, “spoils to the victors I guess.”
Stripping your sneakers and socks off, you left them on the deck and stepped back into the kitchen. Bending, you rummaged through the ice and the cans for a bottle. You stood, empty handed, disappointment making you sigh.
“Oh, have we already run out?”
You jerked, spinning towards the woman you hadn’t heard follow you. Bumping into her, something cold sloshed over your skin. The bottle held in her hand was sweating in the warm air and the scent of beer was on the air.
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, finger swiping through the beer clinging to your skin, right over the soft skin beside the wet fabric of your bikini.
“It’s alright. It was an accident,” you said, breath catching, heart thudding, skin heating.
“You might want to clean up. We wouldn’t want you to be so…” She raised her dark eyes from where she’d been watching her finger trail through the beer on your skin, “sticky.”
You stumbled back a step from her, heart racing. You had no idea what was going through her head but all you could think was how you wanted her tongue to trace the same route as her finger.
“I’m going to… go wash this off,” you said, slipping past her.
Her eyes followed you out of the room and this time you did notice. You weren’t fleeing but you were strategically retreating or else you might beg her lick you clean. You closed the door, giving yourself room to breathe again.
Turning on the faucet, you dabbed at the trail of drying beer on your skin. When you looked up again you found the door opening and a dark haired figure sliding into the bathroom with you. Your eyes widened when they met Emily’s in the mirror.
“Sorry. I’ll just be a second,” you said.
“No rush,” she hummed.
Reaching around you, she placed the glass bottle down on the edge of the sink, arm brushing against the dip of your waist. You stilled, frozen from how close she was, staring into her face. Lips pulled up into a confident smirk. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, holding your breath as she seemed to draw even closer.
“I was hoping to get you alone tonight. I have a favour to ask,” she said, voice deepening as her eyes swept down again, focusing on your bare skin and the way your hardened nipples were showing through your bikini top.
“Oh?” you squeaked.
“Will you show me your piercings?” she asked.
You stuttered over an answer, cheeks heating as the thought of showing her filled your head. Your head quickly emptied of thoughts as her finger came up, playing with the string of your bikini. It brushed up over your collarbone before gently running over your pulse point. She watched you as she gently tugged on it, snapping it back against your skin.
“Please?” she asked, voice lowering until it was an intimate whisper.
“Alright,” you said, breathless, desperate, her touch making you a mess with so little effort.
She stepped back, her hand slipping from you. You took a deep shuddering breath, reaching up to slowly pull the knot free. Her tongue dragged along her lower lip as your top slid free, exposing your chest to her. One hand came up, resting against your ribs, steadying you as she stared down at your tits.
“So pretty,” she murmured.
One finger gently tapped on the ball at the end of the bar of one of the piercings. Your sharp inhalation brought her eyes up to yours, smouldering as she did it again. You weren’t aware of arching your back, pushing them towards her but her satisfied smirk was answer enough.
“Does that feel good, princess?” she asked. That nickname sent a jolt of pleasure right between your thighs.
“Uh huh,” you replied.
She gently tugged on the other, your small whimper making her chuckle.
“Use you words, princess,” she said.
“Feels so good,” you replied.
She did it again, a little rougher. Her name was a soft sigh, arching even further, practically begging her to continue. She complied, both hands playing with the jewellery in your nipples. Your fingers clutched at the counter, holding you up as you lent backwards.
“And what do you say when I make you feel so good?” she murmured, drawing closer.
“Thank you, daddy,” slipped from between your lips, surprising you. Your eyes widened, an apology ready, until you saw the way her eyes darkened, a sharp tug on one piercing then the other making you forget why you should.
She lent forward, breath ghosting over your hardened nipples. You froze, waiting to see what she was about to do. Her pink tongue ran along the length of one bar. Your moan was embarrassing in your ears but her hands were wrapped around your ribs, holding you in place as she did the same thing to the other one. She hummed, doing it again, transitioning from metal to flesh back to metal.
The clack of her teeth against the metal startled you until she tugged again, lips brushing flesh. Your knees were turning to jelly and you were gasping for air, but she held you in place as she played with your jewellery. Your head tipped back, fingers tangling in her dark hair as you pressed her closer. She hummed again, taking your nippled in her mouth, tongue playing with the piercing.
The throbbing between your legs was growing and you could feel how wet you were. You wanted her. You wanted her so badly it was like a physical thing, lodged in your chest. The vibration of her moan while her eyes looked up at you made you make small noise in the back of your throat.
Her teeth closed on the metal, tugging on it to the point of pain curling around the pleasure. The way you moaned her name was filthy, embarrassing in how desperate you were. Her hand was gentle as it skimmed up your body for those long fingers wrapped around your throat. She tugged on your piercing again, fingers tightening just enough for your whine to be quiet.
“Now you’re going to be good for daddy, aren’t you?” she said.
“Yes,” you breathed, not even sure what you were agreeing to.
“Then be good for daddy and turn around.”
You scrambled to follow her instructions, turning to face the mirror. Your eyes were blown wide in the mirror, wild and desperate. Her fingers curled around your throat again, the prettiest necklace you could imagine. With one foot she knocked both of yours apart, her other hand reaching around your body to play with the button of your denim shorts.
“You’re so good at following my instructions,” she murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You felt breathless, and not just from the tightening pressure on your throat.
“Do you see how pretty you are? Looking so lovely for daddy. Wearing such pretty jewellery for me. Flaunting this body. Do you know what you do to me?” she continued, the hand on the waistband of your shorts trailing up, playing with one of your piercings again.
“Those tight little skirts in the office, watching me like you’re just waiting for me to bend you over my desk, asking for discipline. You want me to give you my full attention, don’t you princess?”
“Yes,” you whimpered.
“And that’s why you decided to show off to everyone today, isn’t it? I noticed the way you arched your back, wanting everyone to see these pretty little piercings. Did you want everyone to be imagining what you look like like this, your beautiful body on display, just perfect for my hands to play with? Such a little slut trying to get my attention.”
Her fingers tightened again around your neck. Those dark eyes were watching you, the cocky smirk on her lips only making you shift closer, pressing your hips backwards towards her. You brushed against a bulge in her pants, confusion marring your features before realisation dawned over your face.
“Do you want daddy’s cock, princess?” she asked.
“Yes,” you moaned.
“Then beg for it.”
Her eyes met yours in the mirror, waiting with a patience you did not feel.
“Please, daddy. I want your cock so bad. I need it. I need to feel you inside me. Please,” you pleaded, “please fuck me, daddy. I’ll be so good for you. I want you so much.”
Her hand trailed back down to your shorts, unbuttoning them.
“That’s my good girl,” she said.
She tugged your shorts down, your bikini bottom following close behind. You kicked them away as she tugged her hips back, the bulge in her pants brushing against the bare skin of your ass. A small whine fell from your lips, pressing further backwards.
A finger passed through your folds, gathering your wetness before it ghosted over your clit. If not for the hand still wrapped around your throat, your head would have fallen forward with a small groan. Her throaty chuckle as she teased you only made you whine, begging her for more. She held your eyes in the mirror, finger dipping into your entrance, just barely, stealing your breath again.
“Look at how desperate you are. Such a desperate little slut begging for daddy’s cock. Pretty little whore wanting to please me.”
Her hand disappeared from between your legs and the sound of a zipper made you shiver. The warmth of her body pressed against your back. Your fingers clenched around the edge of the sink, knees turning to jelly.
She held you steady, one hand on your hip as the tip of her strap teased your entrance. She gave a shallow thrust, the strap stroking through your folds. Your breath turned shaky and her fingers tightened just a little bit more, enough that you could only just suck air into your lungs.
“You’re going to make such a mess on daddy’s cock. You’re dripping. Is all this for me?”
“Yes,” came out as a strangled groan, “all for you.”
“That’s my good girl.”
She was slow to push into you, so controlled in contrast to how desperation burned through your veins. Her dark eyes were watching you in the mirror, cataloguing the way pleasure rippled over your face and a moan fell from your lips. She pushed in to the hilt, hips flushed with yours. Pausing there, she let you feel how perfectly she filled you. You wriggled your hips, wanting more, the throbbing more than you could deal with.
“Use your words, princess,” she chided, holding you still.
“Please fuck me, daddy. Please,” you whined, “need you so bad.”
“Good girl.”
She pulled out until only the tip of the cock was left before slamming into you. The cry that left your lips would have embarrassed you if a wave of pleasure wasn’t rolling over you. Your fingers clenched, holding on tight as she dragged the strap out, pausing for too long before plunging in again.
The pace she set was relentless. Harsh and rough, she maintained eye contact with you, fingers clenching around your throat the moment it looked as if you were about to look away. Her other hand was finding its home between your thigh, circling your clit, a slow contrast to her thrusts. The mumbled encouragements in your ears were only setting fire to your bloodstream.
“You’re taking it so well for daddy,” she murmured, “such a pretty pussy hungry for daddy’s cock. My little cock slut.”
“Thank you, daddy,” you sighed.
“So polite.” She sounded so pleased with you.
You moaned as her pace picked up, slamming into you. Her thumb was grinding down on your bundle of nerves and you could feel her panting breath against your skin. Her hand was tightening around your throat, cutting off your air supply. You watched her in the mirror watching you. You met her thrust for thrust, pressing your hips back to hers. You felt so full with her inside of you, her cock emptying your head of anything but her and the way she made you feel hazy with pleasure.
“I’m so close, daddy,” you whimpered.
“No cumming without permission, princess,” she told you, not bothering to slow her pace.
You did your best, holding yourself back, trying so hard not to orgasm. You wanted to be her good girl. To do what she asked you. To please her.
“Look at how pretty your pussy is when I fuck into it. It was made for my cock, wasn’t it, princess? Made just for me to use,” she murmured, hips driving into you.
She wasn’t holding back. She was watching you, so closely, making sure you followed her instructions. From the curl of her lips she knew how hard you were trying and how difficult she was making it for you. Each thrust of her cock hit that place within you that made your legs tremble and your blood sing. Over and over, thumb grinding, the pleasure was turning painful as you held yourself back.
“Please, daddy. Need to cum so bad,” you begged, tears beginning to gather in the corner of your eyes.
“Not yet, princess. Keep making daddy feel good,” she said, “you’re doing so well for me.”
You sobbed, so close to coming undone but determined to be a good girl for her. She kept pounding into you, her praise only making it harder to hold on. With a tight grip, she cut off your air supply completely. Her eyes found yours in the mirror again, and her lips ticked up into a smirk.
“Okay, cum for me, princess,” she said.
It crashed into you the moment you let it. Pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. You sobbed out your thanks, hips stuttering as you felt yourself begin to collapse forward. The hand around your throat kept you up as she fucked you through the orgasm.
She released you, letting you fall over the sink. Her thrusting slowed until she was sheathed within you, holding you, hands gentle until you caught your breath. Sweat slicked your skin and your breathing was uneven, but when you looked in the mirror your eyes were bright and your smile lazy.
“You were so good for me, princess. Such a good girl. So perfect for me,” she praised, “you did so well.”
She pulled out of you, the feeling of being full disappearing with her. She lowered you onto the edge of the bath, so gentle. Looking up, still with her tank top on and the cock between her legs, you found yourself staring. She’d just made you cum harder than ever in your life and you wanted her to touch you again.
With sure hands, she wetted a flannel before kneeling in front of you, cleaning the sticky arousal from your skin. You melted, watching her clean you up. You reached out, running your hand through her hair. She smiled up at you, fingers trailing over the skin of your legs. Her lips pressed to the inside of your knee and you softened.
“Was that okay?” she asked, “were you okay with that?”
“More than.” You lent forward, cupping her cheeks, “I’ve wanted you for so long, Emily. This was basically my dream coming true.”
“Mine too,” she said, looking up at you.
“Maybe we could do this again,” you said, doing your best not to worry she was about to tell you this was a one time thing. She pushed the hair that had fallen from your ponytail behind your ear.
“Oh, we’re definitely doing this again,” she said, raising from her knees, “I plan on having you in every way possible.”
You heated at the thought. She tucked her strap on back into her trousers, pulling them up and re-buttoning them. She lent forward again, catching your chin between thumb and forefinger. Her lips pressed to yours, so quick it left you wanting more.
“Enjoy the beer, princess,” she said, tapping on the ball of one of your piercings, making you hiss, “you’ve earned it.”
She slipped out of the bathroom, leaving you alone to redress and try to not look like you’d just been fucked in Rossi’s bathroom. The smile on your face was a dead give away. You fixed your ponytail and pulled on your damp clothes, watching yourself in the mirror. Picking up the bottle left for you, you took a long drink from it, your lips where Emily’s had been not so long ago. Your smile refused to dim.
Maybe the heatwave wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
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Apologies for the spam like/reblogs. I read all your Alex Blake/reader fics yesterday and they're so good 😭😭😭😭❤️
Thank you. I might have some more coming out soon!
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eeeek! i love your work. i read your rebecca x reader like bedtime stories. <3
Thank you so much!
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Request: some jealous Rebecca Welton x oblivious reader where reader just cannot tell when someone is flirting with her one of the many reasons also why it took so long for Rebecca and reader to officially start dating
Jealousy
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: some swearing
Rebecca’s fingers tightened around the pen in her hand, the plastic groaning from the pressure. She ignored it, eyes trained on your figure. Your laugh made her heart thump hard behind her rib cage, the bruise left in its wake due to not being the one to coax that laugh from you. You flipped your hair over your shoulder, listening to Isaac as you lent closer.
His arm slid over your shoulders, leading you further down the hallway. Something ugly gnawed at Rebecca’s stomach. She had to turn away or risk hurting someone. Taking some deep breaths, she peeked over her shoulder. You were looking back at her, not realising the way Isaac’s eyes were sweeping down your body.
The smile you gave her was brighter than any you’d given Isaac. Her own lips curled up, an unconscious response, never able to not give in to the impulse when it came to you.
Extracting yourself from Isaac, you said something quietly before making your way to Rebecca’s side. Isaac’s eyes lingered on your retreating back, dipping down to follow the sway of your hips. She bit back her growl, that ugly feeling sink its teeth into her stomach again.
“Hi,” you said, looking up into her face, your smile broad.
“What did Isaac want?” she asked, knowing her voice was harsher than she intended.
“Oh, he was inviting me to the party tonight. Why didn’t you tell me about it? Apparently all of the guys want me there,” you said, “you’re going right?”
“Of course I am,” she replied, despite having previously declined an invitation. A groups of sweaty football players in a darkened room with loud music was hardly her idea of an enjoyable evening. You in a darkened room, however, was a different matter altogether. Especially if that room was full of sweaty football players with testicles bigger than the size of their brains.
Your smile widened and your eyes sparkled. You reached out, hand landing against her forearm, burning through the silk of her blouse. You bounced onto your toes, face drawing just a bit closer to hers.
“You’ll really come?” you asked.
“For you, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, just waiting for the words to hit your brain. She could see the moment it did. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you tried to contain your grin and you were looking at her like she hung the moon.
“Tonight is going to be ace,” you said, letting her arm go, “I’m going to go buy something to wear. I’ll see you later tonight.”
She felt bereft as you stepped back, taking one then another away from her. You waved to the guys before pushing out of the door into the sunlight that swallowed you up. You glanced back, just long enough to meet her eye, flashing her another one of your bright smiles. The way it warmed her, you could have been the sun that flooded into her club.
She was distracted the rest of the day, the image of the boys flirting with you distracting her from her work. Who could focus on contracts when those very men were trying to steal you from her? Your bright smile was meant to be turned in her direction, not laughing at one of the boys dirty jokes.
“Hey good looking,” Keeley said, strutting into the room, “why are you wearing ‘someone’s going to die but I’ll look fit while doing it’ face?”
“I’ll give you three guesses,” she said.
“The boys invited her to the party?” she asked.
“Yes, and now I have to go or wonder which of them are putting their dirty mitts on her,” she replied, lips pursing.
“You know she’s crazy about you. You don’t have to worry,” Keeley said, nudging her.
“I’m not worried about her. It’s them I’m not happy with. I don’t like them… thinking they have a shot with her,” she said, hands flapping as she tried to put into words her anger.
“So you need to look hot tonight. Show them there’s no competition. A bunch of sweaty hairy guys? They’ve got nothing on you,” she said, “you’re well fit.”
“Thanks,” she said, a small chuckle on her lips, “you really think I have nothing to worry about?”
“Come on, Rebecca. She looks at you like you’re the greatest thing she’s ever seen. There’s literally not even a competition going on,” Keeley replied.
“You’re right. Of course your right,” she said, “I should wear the red dress, shouldn’t I?”
“Fuck yes!”
Rebecca laughed, head tipping back, the vestiges of her jealousy seeping away. Of course she had nothing to worry about. It’s not as if you were going to the party with Isaac. You’d asked her if she was going. It mattered to you.
So why, when she arrived, did Isaac have his stupid hairy arm around your shoulder, passing you a drink while you smiled up at him?
She did her best to ignore it, striding past to find her own drink, missing the way your eyes lingered on her. Something not in a plastic cup if she could avoid it. She hadn’t done that since her university days. She wasn’t about to start doing that again, just to be like the boys.
She rifled through the cupboards to find a glass to pour some of the cheap wine into. With a sigh, she took a long drink from it, just able to see you through the door. The moment your gaze landed on her it was like electricity struck. Your eyes lit up and you ducked out from under Isaac’s arm, practically tripping over yourself to reach her side.
“You came,” you said, beaming up at her.
“Of course. I told you I would,” she said.
“Yeah, but I mean this isn’t really your scene,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at the dim living room. You snorted when you saw the boys.
“Anywhere you are is my scene,” she said.
Your smile brightened, “aw, that’s really sweet. Thank you.”
You hauled yourself up onto the counter, legs swinging, heels kicking against the wooden doors. The skirt of your dress lifted, skin on display making her feel crazy. She longed to touch it, to feel your skin against her fingertips as she dragged them upwards until you moaned her name.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” you said, “it’s nice not being the only girl. Keeley said she was coming later but when she does Jamie is going to up the idiocy and then Roy will growl and Keeley will be distracted. It’s nice to have someone bring a bit of class to this thing. Plus, you’re like my favourite person so know I won’t have to leave early to see you.”
“You don’t want all those boys to yourself?” she asked, sidling up to you, arm brushing your leg.
“Them?” you scoffed, “you’re clearly the best one here.”
“Well, after you,” she said.
Your smile was so pretty when you looked at her. Sitting on the counter, your were face to face with her, something she didn’t often get to enjoy. You shifted closer, leaning into her. She did her best not feel flustered at the feeling of your arm pressing against hers. Even after all this time, she still felt like a girl in the grips of her first crush.
“You know, if you wanted to, we could-“
“There you are,” Sam interrupted, walking into the kitchen, “I was hoping to see you here.”
“Sam,” you said, turning that smile on the young football player.
You reached over, pulling him into a hug. She didn’t want to focus on how easy it was for you, doling out your affection.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, drawing back as his eyes slid over your body.
“Oh this old thing,” you giggled.
“You really do. You’re lighting up the room,” he said.
“Thanks Sam,” you said, teeth sinking down into your lower lip.
“Come, there is dancing. Someone as beautiful as you should be shown off.” He held out his hand to you.
“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, “I might just stay here and talk to Rebecca.”
“We need your radiance to remind us to be civilised. A pretty girl like you should be dancing,” he said.
“Really. I’m okay,” you said, “but you go have fun for me.”
“I must insist. You dance with an elegance the rest of us can only dream of,” he said.
“Well, if you’re insisting.”
You took his hand, letting him help you down from the counter. Rebecca opened her mouth to say something then snapped it shut, not wanting to ruin your fun. She lingered in the doorway, watching as Sam’s hands landed on your hips and your head tipped back as you laughed. Her fingers continued to tighten on the glass in her hand. She downed the wine in one swig.
You spun from Sam’s arms, straight into Dani’s. You were laughing and he was holding you closer and Montclaur was eyeing you up. She turned, leaving you be, needing another drink. Scooping up the bottle of wine she’d poured from earlier, she left her glass in the sink and slipped out the back door.
The garden was small, just a bit of grass and a few chairs. She sunk into one, not bothering to think about the dirt she’d be getting on her dress by sitting. Bringing the bottle to her lips, she let herself have a moment to wallow. She wanted that attention on her, to be in your atmosphere.
She tipped her head back, looking up at the night sky. A few stars winked down at her, just seen through a small gap in the clouds. Sighing, she took another drink. She knew it wasn’t the same as with Rupert, that you weren’t the one going around hitting on anything that moved. But the old insecurities were rising again.
She knew all the reasons you shouldn’t be with her. She’d been on cloud nine since the first time you’d kissed her but even then she’d known that she didn’t deserve you. She was no better than Rupert, going after a younger woman. A young woman who shone so brightly of course everyone else was drawn to you. She took another long drink.
“There you are.”
You were standing just outside the door, your arms curled around your body. Given your dress was skin tight, she could see the way you were shivering. You walked towards her, your smile bright despite how cold you looked.
“Why are you out here?” you asked.
She held out a hand to you, drawing you closer. You didn’t hesitate to settle yourself on her lap, curling an arm around her neck. Her own hand rested on your hip, the other gentle as it rested on your thigh. Skin on bare skin was enough to make her crave you with every fibre of her being.
“Baby?” you asked.
“You seemed busy so I decided to get some air,” she replied, not wanting to admit just how much she couldn’t bare to watch you dance with those men.
“Aren’t you cold?” you asked, snuggling closer to her.
“Not with you here,” she replied, “you’re warming me up.”
Your lips pressed to her cheek, soft and chaste. Her fingers tightened on your thigh, a reflex to the feeling. You hummed, your lips ghosting over her skin, pressing to spot under her jaw that you knew drove her wild. Her sharp inhalation of breath was a surprise to her and yet she was melting under your touch.
“I love this dress on you,” you murmured into her skin, “you look so hot.”
She flushed from the compliment.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re really out here?” you asked, “did the boys make you feel unwelcome since you’re the boss?”
“No,” she sighed, tipping her head back, giving you better access.
“Please, Rebecca,” you pleaded, drawing back, looking at her with those big eyes, swimming with concern. She cursed under her breath, knowing she couldn’t say no to you, not when you were looking at her like that.
“I don’t like the way the boys flirt with you,” she admitted.
“They boys? They’re not flirting,” you said, shaking your head.
“Of course they are. Isaac can’t keep his hands off you. Sam was drooling over you in the kitchen. Montclaur was leering at you. I heard Dani asking you on a date. They’re not even hiding it from me, the fuckers,” she said, looking back up at the night sky.
“They’re just being nice,” you brushed off.
“They’re fucking not,” she snapped.
You drew away from her and guilt curdled in her stomach. There was no point getting angry at you. It wasn’t your fault. You were so gorgeous it was no wonder everyone you met wanted you. She had. It would be hypocritical to not understand why other people would want you.
“Baby, are you jealous?” you asked.
“No,” slipped from her too fast to convince anyone, “yes. It’s not important.”
“Of course it’s important,” you said, “I don’t want you feeling like this over nothing. You know I have no interest in any of those boys, right? They’re all hairy and sweaty and gross.”
“Really?” she asked, hating that she needed the reassurance.
“No one even comes close to comparing with you. You’re the greatest person I’ve ever met. And the most beautiful. Like, if I could I’d be with you all the time. I don’t want to be with anyone but you.” You gently cupped her cheek in your warm palm, “I love you, Rebecca. No one is going to change that.”
“You love me?” Those words were branded into her brain, none of the rest of it penetrating after that.
“I was planning on telling you at a nicer place than this but yeah. I love you. I thought you might have figured it out already. I don’t think I’m very good at hiding it.” You gave a little self conscious chuckle, “but I love you so much and so I don’t want you to worry that one of those boys could ever steal me away. You’re the only one for me.”
She stared down at you, not able to comprehend that you loved her. That you were choosing her. That you wanted her. You were smiling, so close to her, looking so beautiful, loving her. Your smile dimmed a little and she realised she hadn’t said anything for too long.
“I love you too,” she breathed.
Your grin returned as you lent forward. Your lips brushed hers, and she couldn’t stop herself from pulling you in further, her tongue running along your bottom lip. You moaned into her mouth and she knew she could spend the rest of her life listening to that noise.
Someone wolf-whistled and you drew away, ignoring the way she tried to pull you closer again. Looking over your shoulder, she was ready to tell off whichever of the boys was interrupting her time with you. Keeley was grinning at the two of you, sparkling like the amazing woman she was, leaning in the doorway.
“Keep it in your pants, Welton,” she called, making her way towards the two of you, “leave some for the rest of us.”
“Very funny,” she called back.
You giggled, pressing your face into her shoulder, doing your best to stifle them. She pressed a kiss to the top of your head. She wasn’t ever going to get tired of this.
“Looks like you two are having fun,” she said, perching on one of the other chairs.
“We are,” you said, emerging from your hidden spot. She tightened her arm around your waist, making you press closer.
“We could get out of here, if you want to,” she murmured into your ear.
“Okay,” you said, “but can we get some ice cream on the way back to your place?”
“Of course.”
You climbed off her lap, holding out a hand for her. You tangled your fingers together, tugging her away from the chairs. Rebecca passed the wine bottle over to Keeley, leading you towards the gate to let you out of the backyard.
“Have fun you two,” Keeley said, giving a salacious wink as she passed you to re-eneter the house.
Having you leave with her, sliding into her car, smiling at her like she was the greatest thing you’d ever seen, it was enough to make her not even able to remember why she’d been so jealous earlier. Of course you’d choose her. You loved her.
There was absolutely no one to be jealous of.
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