#inception ocs

[valtsv]

thinking about the tension (yurious) between the architect of the maze and the one who solves it

[shripscapi]

oh, Lucia…

close-ups under the cut :)

[idlenight-art]

RIVER VILLAIN SUIT REDESIGN BABY. HE IS DONE.

Maelstrom. The ocean and pirate themed Anarchist running wild in Los Diablos. He cuts an imposing figure wherever he goes to terrorize the ones pulling the strings in this city. And looking damn good doing it.

[pennyserenade]

can't buy me love | robert fischer x female!oc

summary | jane and robert aren't in an arranged marriage technically, but he sure has a way of making her feel like they are. fed up with it, she decides to take matters in her own hands. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | established relationship, rich!oc, pinv sex, creampie, in my mind this is set in the 1950s because why not, light misogyny on robert's part (prude), fingering, couch fucking! word count | 5.7k (sorry) a/n | i've been writing on this one for a really long time and i'm kind of proud of it, so i hope you all enjoy it. this is week three's entry for cillian's birthday bash stories. the album this week was 1964's a hard day's night, and the song was can't buy me love.

The slight pout of her husband’s lip offended Jane Fischer. So, too, did the flutter of his eye lashes against his newly tanned skin, and the stretch of his finely made dress shirt against his shoulders as he leaned over his chair and tied his dress shoe. On days like this, she felt something akin to hatred swell in her chest for him, and she could never be sure whose fault it was: him, for being so silent, so stoic, so complacent, or her, for watching him be these things, and allowing it to make her burn inward with fury, but never expressing it. 

Jane Fischer—née Hartley—was, on paper, the perfect match for the scion of Fischer Morrow. The woman was a Texas oil heiress in her own right, and beautiful in that charmed, non-offensive way that Robert’s father always encouraged him to look for. When Robert met her, she had been twenty-two and a recent Bryn Mawr graduate with a degree in history. They’d met at a charity benefit in New York, introduced to one another by friends of friends. They’d hit it off that night purely for the fact that they were both good-looking, affluent, young, and unsure of what to make of any of it. 

Jane and Robert had stumbled their way awkwardly through three dates, and married two months into knowing one another, spurred on by the encouragement of both of their families. Her father told her that she would be the richest girl in the whole world, and Jane had agreed that would be a fine accomplishment. Any worries she might have  had about doing something with her degree before becoming a mother and wife were quickly quelled by Robert’s quiet assurances that he did not wish to have children until much later. It seemed she could eat her cake and have it too with him. 

Their marriage had been one largely void of conflict and strife. Robert was a quiet individual, who spent so much of his time working at his family business that he seemed, at times, to be merely an extension of it—like a traveling salesman who never found his way home. Whatever Jane did in the time she was not directly in front of Robert appeared to be of little consequence to him, except on the rare occasion that his own father took interest in it. 

In the second year of their marriage, when Jane had considered going back to school for her doctorate, Maurice had taken Robert and her out for dinner and dissuaded her from doing so. He feared it would make her seem “too ambitious” and “unrelatable” to the other women she would encounter being Robert’s wife, which she found amusing, until she did not. On the ride home, Robert had told her that he did not care one way or another if she went back or not, but the way he had said it made it seem like he did care, and was only saying he did not simply to save face, so she abandoned the plan with only slight embarrassment—for whom, she wasn’t still entirely sure.  

In time, she came to find that all of Robert’s vulnerabilities lay in two places: his father, who treated Robert like a chess piece more than a son, and his mother, who had died when he was a boy, and who seemed to take all the love he had experienced with her. Robert never seemed to know what to make of Jane. When he came home most nights, he approached her with polite hesitancy, as if she were a perfect stranger and not his wife. They talked about nothing—about the dinner the chef had made, or the size of their apartment, or the way the clouds swelled in the sky and threatened rain, and how dreary New York was in the winter, and how he was quite happy to be returning to Australia with his father the next week for business. 

She had tried to unfurl for him, to take the first steps towards vulnerability. One night shortly before he came home, she sat upon their love seat dressed in a diaphanous nightgown, wearing nothing beneath the fabric. They’d had sex on several occasions before it, but the act felt perfunctory, even impersonal—like it had happened because of circumstance more than desire. Jane wanted to prove her willingness to give, and perhaps, in some way, to shock him out of the collected demeanor that greeted her every night when he walked in. There was more to Robert than he let on, and she knew this: she had witnessed it that first night they had met, in the smiles and the bits of conversations they’d had in the corner of the ballroom. 

When he’d come home, Robert did indeed look shocked–almost scandalized. His lips pursed and he averted his eyes, before letting out soft peals of laughter that held little mirth. He did eventually turn his eyes towards her, but she could tell it took a great deal of effort; he smiled tightly, his cheeks drowning in a deep shade of red. 

His embarrassment made her feel uneasy, like what she had done was somehow impure. She covered herself with a pillow and told him softly she had thought he might have liked it, but could see how he didn’t. Jane didn’t allow him to stutter out an explanation or apology, for the whole thing was bad enough and to experience any more of it would only cause her more harm. 

Since that incident, they hadn’t had sex at all. He’d only recently just returned home from Australia, and for the first few nights they’d been able to blame it on him being tired from the long journey. It had felt distinctly relieving not to worry about their curious lack of having it while he had been away, and easier to forget about it all together in the nights following his return. But she knew they could not live like this, for she could not handle it. 

Robert was a grown man. He had free will and the ability to string together words and communicate as far as she knew, and she’d had enough. Placing her coffee upon their shared breakfast table table, she said, “Why don’t you want to sleep with me? I know this is an inopportune time to bring it up, but it’s an odd thing, isn’t it? It baffles me.”

Robert’s surprise was evident—in the furrow of his eyebrow, in his audible swallow as he considered her intently, like he hadn’t quite heard what she said. But he had. “I don’t know what you mean,” he evaded. He was no good at lying. It took only a moment under her unflinching gaze. “I don’t know. I…was worried you might be doing it to make me happy, and I didn’t want to make you do something that made you unhappy.”

She realized he was being earnest as she watched him. “I’m your wife, Robert.”

“Yes, but—“ He did not finish the sentence, probably thinking the next words unkind. 

Jane didn’t care. Unkindness was better than nothing. “But our parents forced us together. Told us to do it, is that it?” He nodded stoically. She scoffed. “I know you might not have chosen me completely of your own volition, and I have always known that, but I don’t mind it. I didn’t mind you, either. I mean, I did want you. I do. I was the one who said yes.” He was quiet, as always, so she continued. “How many women have you slept with? Someone once told me that you were something of an ineffable playboy. Is that true?”

“Really, Jane.”  The lines on his forehead creased. He was ruffled by what she was saying. Annoyed. He didn’t want to talk about it. He was not the only one in the business of getting exactly what he wanted as soon as he’d wanted it. though. Jane continued.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I just want to know you, Robert.”

“You do know me,” he said pointedly. The familiar red hue formed on his cheeks and he averted his eyes downwards. 

“Do you have a mistress?” 

“What? No!” She saw a flash of anger in his eyes, and it thrilled her. “I have no interest in discussing these things with you.” 

“I’ve slept with four men,” she prattled on, bringing her coffee cup up to her lips again. Her eyes ventured to the window, where the clouds threatened to spill over the city. But they weren’t going to talk about that. Not now. Not ever again. “Five counting you, really.”

He rose from the table, flush from his head to his toes. “I really must go.” 

She stood as well, blocking him from moving forward. His eyes narrowed and for the first time in their married life, she saw there was something more to him than the simple shades of cool he presented to the world. He hardened. She spoke like one would to a timid deer. “We don’t have to talk. You could fuck me.”

“That’s a crude way to talk,” he scolded. 

“I can be crude. As my husband, you think it would delight you.”

“Well, it doesn’t. You were meant to…occupy yourself. To have hobbies and interests. Don’t you?”  

The words went through her, simple, meaningless puffs of indignant air. “I went to an all girl’s college, as you know, and we were often in want of the male appendage, but we had no male. Would you like to know the intelligent and clever ways we’d manage?”

His head dropped. Exasperation gripped him. “No. I would like to go to work.” 

“I want it.” Jane stepped forward, so close to Robert she could smell the expensive quality of his cologne mixing with the scent of his skin. Her finger grazed the cuff of his suit as she batted her lashes up at him. She knew how to be beautiful when she wanted to be beautiful—had spent many hours of her life giving in to the sin of vanity—and she used it then. “I want sex.” 

Robert’s jaw twitched. “Tonight,” came his clipped response. With that, he sidestepped her, walking briskly towards the door of their apartment and slamming the door shut. 

Her lips curled into a self-satisfied grin. 

—

Robert had a habit of never coming home when he was meant to, so it was a matter of guessing and waiting. Jane had guessed seven, and she had waited until nine. 

By the time Robert unlocked the door and entered the apartment, the red lipstick she’d applied had long ago faded against the brim of her whiskey glass. But she was not drunk or angry. In fact, she had not yet even begun to develop the hazy fringes of disappointment. 

She could tell it had been a long day just by looking at him: His shoulders slumped like Atlas’, and the blank gaze of defeat drowned out his eyes. There was no point in being so rich, she thought, if you had to be this miserable all the time. 

“Does this mean I’m going to have to wipe this makeup off and get in one of those ratty nightgowns fit for grandmothers?” She attempted to joke. 

Robert’s resulting look was withering. She took another long sip of the watered down drink in her hands before rising off the couch to greet him. 

This time she’d put on more clothes: an expensive black tulle and pink silk evening gown with a tastefully scooped neckline. Its flared skirt had an intricate floral bedding along the bottom, and on her neck, she wore a dangle rhinestone necklace that her father had gifted her for her twentieth birthday. The heels she’d worn with the outfit sat abandoned under the coffee table, so that all separated her from the plush carpet were her stockings. 

Robert surveyed their apartment as a soldier might a battlefield. His distrust of her was made evident by his rigid body, and how he stuck close to the door, as if he might need to flee out of it at any moment. She couldn’t help but let out stifled laughter. Her amusement sunk its teeth into her words. “Don’t be afraid of me, Robert,” she cooed, fingers wrapping around his tie. 

He wet his lips but said and did nothing but look at her, his pale eyes alert. Up close like this, she could see him and all that made him desirable: the sharp sculpt of his cheek bones, the pretty twist of his freckled lips, the restrained intensity in his eyes. 

In the times they had slept together, it had managed to be pleasurable in the way things you did for necessity could be: knowing, offhandedly, that it was good for them—that even though they did it with structure and hesitancy, the result was the same for them as they would have been otherwise. She had liked the way he tucked around her, and she did look forward to the moments near the end where, unthinking, he’d bring his hand up to her breast and hold it there. There was nothing wrong with him, only that he gave her fragments of himself when she wanted the whole thing. No longer did she want to part her legs and guide him into her, smiling sheepishly as he gathered the blanket around them and rocked forward. They weren’t making children, after all; they were meant to be making love. Fucking, even. 

“You still look frightened,” she said, frowning playfully. Robert tensed. His hands wrapped around hers as she grabbed onto his tie. 

“I’m only tired,” he answered. 

“You’re always tired.” 

“I’m always busy, that’s why,” he said sullenly. “My work requires a lot of me.” Her fingers loosened around his tie, but he kept them trapped in his palm. “I’m not afraid, though.” 

“Then what are you?” she probed. The bit of alcohol she’d drank - or perhaps the two years of unfeelingness that lingered between them - made her bold. 

“I don’t know. Obligated,” he admitted. He let go of her but stayed close. His voice was low and confessional–seductive to her for its newness. “I have been with women before, but none like you.”

“Not even the society girls?” 

He smiled, somewhat amused. “What I’ll say is that I’ve met a lot of simple people with a lot of simple wants, and you are not one of them.”

“And what–you wanted something simple?”

“No. But you know that my father is a demanding individual; this is my life, for better or worse, and it was that way before I met you too.” 

“So simple is what you think you deserve?” She didn’t mean for him to answer, but he did. She’d never gotten so much out of him all at once. 

“No. But it’s a small price to pay for all that I have–for what we have,” he corrected. 

“Don’t you know that other men your age and in your position don’t live like this? That none of them are so constrained by their father’s wishes?"  

Robert loosened the tie around his neck and took a step around her to set his belongings on the chair. “Those men run businesses; my father is giving me an empire,” he said as he threw his cufflinks down on the coffee table. 

If she were any other woman, one that came from a plain or even slightly lesser background, Robert’s wealth and importance would have staggered her to silence. Be it as it were, she only felt pity. Robert was trapped in a life of his father’s design, made to play the part of the dutiful son in a way that was unnecessary—and he didn’t even know it. She hated to think that even her, standing there as she was, had happened because his father had said so.

“Well,” Jane continued on, stepping down from the entrance. “This home isn’t an empire and I’m not an employee. Not in any conventional sense, anyway,” she teased. 

Robert huffed out a laugh as he bent down and grabbed her tumbler off the coaster. He filled it again, the amber liquid sloshing around without ice as he brought it to his lips. Wincing at the sting of the unmixed alcohol, he wiped his mouth unceremoniously on his sleeve. 

“You know, I always knew I wanted a wife so rich she didn’t need me at all,” he told Jane soberly. “That way if she ever did want me, it would be of her volition. It feels silly, saying it out loud, but my father warned me that I would be sought out for the wrong reasons if I didn’t watch out. So I developed a list of things to look for, and I picked rich and I picked intelligent. I didn’t figure anything beyond that.”

“Why? Wouldn’t a fool be easier?” Jane took the empty glass from his hand and sat it back on the table. Her lips hadn’t transitioned out of their smile. “They want very little—desire less than anyone, I’m told.” 

“I know you thought I was foolish,” he told her. She went to protest but he shook his head. “It’s alright. Perhaps I am, in a way. A lot of men would’ve been very angry with you for the way you spoke this morning. For what you said.”

“You were angry,” she recalled. 

“No. I was nervous. Well, maybe angry, but only with myself.” His eyebrows pinched together as he looked down, regarding her. “Composure has been everything to me, you see, and to my father, it ranks higher than any religion ever could. Ever since I was a kid, it’s been drilled into me how important structure and self-control is. My father has told me time and time again how fatal it would be if I were to do something to damage our reputation. He’s probably said some version of that to me more than he’s ever told me he loves me.” Robert paused for a moment, mulling his words over. “What you did this morning threatened all of my life’s training and practice, and it did frighten me. But I’m sorry I took it out on you.” 

Jane couldn’t resist stepping forward and intruding in his personal space. He didn’t move, letting her invade. “You know,” she began, “I used to get terribly confused between apostles and apostates. At times I wanted to be both. You’ll have to forgive me for my heathen behavior, because I don’t think I’ll ever get it right..” 

Amusement spread across his face, brightening it. “You could ruin me,” he told her. 

“I wouldn’t. I’ve got a vested interest in your personal growth, Mr. Fischer.” 

Her mouth parted slightly and her eyes shifted up to his lips. Robert was getting nearer, allowing himself to be tempted, swayed. He smelt warm and rich, like the expensive, woodsy cologne that lingered in the bathroom for hours after he’d left. She wanted to taste it on his skin. Dipping his head so his mouth aligned with her own, he closed the gap between them and finally kissed her. 

Jane could feel the beat of his heart against her palms as she slid his suspenders off his shoulders. Robert’s hand fell upon her lower back, while the other curved delicately around her jaw. She helped him remove his belt and he sighed happily against her lips when she tugged impatiently at his dress shirt, freeing it from his slacks. 

The more eagerness she displayed in her undressing of him, the happier he got, as if he’d finally come to understand she was more than a trophy he could appreciate, but not touch. He took off his undershirt and peeled it over his head, and her fingers roamed appreciatively over his skin. In the light coming from the large, open windows in the living room, it was easy to make Robert out—to see him. Freckles and moles unbeknownst to her appeared before her invitingly. Overwhelmed, or perhaps overjoyed, Jane kissed along the width of his exposed chest. 

Robert laughed happily, guiding her mouth back to his. “I think I’d like to hear that story about your all girls school and the lack of male appendages now, if you don’t mind,” he told her between kisses. 

Her fingers undid the button on his trousers and she grunted in amusement. “I can show you,” she whispered. She kissed his bottom lip and he nodded.

“Please.”

Robert began to undo the zipper at the back of her dress and she turned against him, aiding his efforts. The dress slid easily off her frame. His warm lips kissed the curve between her shoulder blades and his hands pulled her hips flush against his, so that she could feel his excitement forming against her. It was a far cry from the tepid foreplay they’d engaged in before. 

She laid her head back against his chest and put her right hand over his. “I’m sure you probably know the trick.” Jane guided his hand to the waistband of her underwear. 

His fingers fanned out beneath hers. “I think I might,” he answered.

Their hands worked together, moving beneath the thin fabric of her underwear. They brushed past her pubic hair as his lips pressed warm kisses to the hollow of her neck. It all felt so good, so solid and satisfying, she nearly shuttered against him—and he hadn’t even really touched her yet. 

As one of his fingers dared to brush lightly against her, Jane gasped softly. A gush of wetness developed suddenly between her thighs. He held her body against his and she let go of his hand, giving him freedom to do as he wanted. His tongue laved against her skin as he began to part her with his finger.  

For all of his previous timidity in the bedroom, she had suspected that Robert was not beside himself when it came to pleasure. Now, she knew it. He teased at her entrance, circling over it as his open mouth slid hotly across her jaw and found her lips once more. His tongue pushed into her mouth as his finger dipped experimentally into her cunt. 

They were no longer concerned with offending one another—or at least, they had forgotten that they had once been. He slid another finger into her cunt and swallowed a mouthful of her moans while he curled his finger inside of her. He brushed against the spongy top of her walls, and relished in the collapse of her body into his. 

“And who taught you this?” he asked warmly against her mouth. 

“Another girl,” she said, voice strained. “She…she told me about it. How to do it.” 

He tucked his chin over her shoulder, watching the unrestrained wiggling motion of her hips. “Have you done it often?”

Her fingers stroked up the back of his neck and she grabbed a fistful of his hair. She threaded her fingers through his waxen locks as he continued to work her open.“Often enough,” she panted. She could hear him swallow. 

“Lately?” 

“Nothing this good,” she whimpered, pressing her hips back into his as he drove his fingers inside of her. He huffed against her shoulder and began unlatching her stockings with his free hand. 

“And do you do this often?” she asked, attempting to collect herself. 

“Mm?” Robert kissed along her shoulder. “Touch you?”

“Use your fingers on women.” 

She could feel the curve of his smile against her skin. “Not often enough. And never—“ He brushed the pad of his thumb over her clit “—like this.” 

Jane reached behind herself to grip at his hip. “Oh, Robert!” she gasped, surprised by his sudden bravado. His laughter was light and she wanted desperately to keep drawing more of that sound out of him. Her hips pressed back into his own and she felt the hardened outline of him on her ass. 

He’d been born in Australia to an English mother and an Irish mother, so he’d not been circumcised. She liked that about him. Mostly, really, she liked that she got to know it about him. To Jane, there was an eroticism to knowing him like that. Whatever seas separated them, she knew the shape of his cock, how it felt, how it looked. 

Robert eased her underwear down her thighs, his movements reeking of earnest desperation. “I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her shoulder again. “I know this hasn’t been an entirely satisfactory marriage. We’ll—“ She felt him shuffle behind her and after a quiet second, his cock was brushing against her backside. “—work on it.” 

Jane wanted to give him everything: to allow crudeness and impropriety and fault, to show him that indecency could be beneficial. With a foolish sense of disregard, she said, “Fuck me, Robert, just the way you want.” She could feel his moan in his chest before it rose to his throat. 

Robert took her seriously, a thing he’d neglected to do many times before, moving her to the edge of the couch and turning her around to face him. He held her up by the arms, and, looking at her in the eyes, he seemed to soften slightly. His lips brushed lightly over hers and his cock jutted on his stomach between them. 

“You make me nervous,” he confessed, laughing self-consciously. “Always have, even that first night. I thought you didn’t like me at all, truth be told. I found I was trying to impress you, and I’d never done that before. You wore those little white gloves—“ He paused and took himself in his palm. Jane watched as he stroked himself lazily, the tip of his cock becoming exposed. He was awfully close to her cunt. Her breathing seemed to halt. “—and a pink dress that went down to the floor. You didn’t giggle or bat your eyelashes, or even so much as blink in my direction for too long. In fact, at one point you leaned in and let the man next to you light your cigarette. I couldn’t have been more entranced if I had tried.” 

Robert lined himself up to her cunt. She watched as the black of his pupils invaded the cool blue of his irises, and he pushed himself inside of her. It was a stretch at first, but one wholly desired by both of them. He panted softly against the bare skin of her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his shoulders move beneath her hands as he tugged her closer, pushing her so nearly off the edge of the couch that she barely sat on it at all.  

“I couldn’t understand you,” he continued, voice notably more strained, “I couldn’t understand your interest in me, couldn’t understand why you kept saying yes to seeing me again.” He pressed his mouth to the glistening column of her throat, brushing his thumbs against her warm cheeks. “And then one day, only a little after you had agreed to marry me, my father said that you were clever, dangerously clever, because now you were going to be the richest woman in the world and with a husband who wouldn’t say no to anything you wanted.” Robert’s eyebrows furrowed, accentuating the faint wrinkles between them. 

His nose traced against the curve hers, and he found his way back to her mouth. He hovered over her lips with his, and she exerted her patience by not lounging forward and kissing him. He continued speaking, his hips stilling against hers; she almost whined in protest. “How right he had been, after all.”

Jane’s fingers fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Your father wants you to be his goddamn puppet on strings, Robert. He knows nothing.” She guided his face towards hers, and she kissed him once more. He brushed his tongue against hers greedily as she parted her lips for him.

She could feel herself opening for him, the slick between her thighs doubling as he started moving inside of her again. Jane could hardly wait to say her next words to Robert. She pressed her cheek to his and they rolled off her tongue: “Before you came home, I inserted a diaphragm inside of myself,” she whispered, “which means you can do exactly as you like without worrying. And I do want you to take what you want. I want you to show me what you haven’t,” she encouraged. Her nails scraped lightly over his shoulders. 

Robert looked overwhelmed by what she was saying, his eyebrows still drawn together. She was worried that perhaps she’d crossed a line. But then he looked up at her and he smiled widely.  Jane was sure he’d never been so attractive. She swiped a thumb appreciatively over the dimple in his cheek as he began to rut into her. 

His thrusts were sharper now, so that she had to cling more tightly onto his slight frame to keep from topping over the couch. It felt incredible to be so full of him, and to be acting so unashamedly together like this. Nothing about their desire felt stolen or hidden. It felt open and free, like she had hoped it might come to be. 

They watched each other as he drove his cock inside of her. He was alight with his desire, red in the cheeks and lips, pupils wide, soft whimpers escaping as the sound of their sex began to become audible. The slap of skin hitting skin that filled the air between them made everything so much better for her too. She arched her back and he gripped onto her hip, trying to keep her still. 

She was surprised by the sturdiness of their bodies—by how much they could collectively give and take. He was fucking into her with force, as if seeing just how far he could go before he couldn’t anymore. Without meaning to, she began to moan; each time his cock jutted up inside of her, he hit parts of her she felt had never been accessed. She never wanted him to leave her, and so she clung to him. It only pleased her when he clung to her, too. 

Robert pulled her off the couch, moving so deftly that she didn’t have to react before she was laying flat on her back against the cushions of the couch. They barely fit on it together, but he managed, throwing off the back cushions quickly to accommodate them both. 

They took a moment. He smiled down at her, the same polite grin he had given her that first night, and she smiled up at him. 

“It’s my turn to show you something I was taught,” he said, his voice low. “Keep your legs down, okay?” She nodded, and he pushed up off her, bracketing her between his arms. 

She watched him curiously. His head hung and he maneuvered his body above hers. As he began to slip out from her, she gripped onto his arm. Robert looked up, chuckling. “It’s alright. This is how it’s meant to be at first.” He moved his body higher up hers, using the arm of the couch as a springboard. “See,” he told her, “When I push myself inside of you now, it’s going to feel good for us both.” 

“Where’d you learn this?” she teased. 

“Oh, same places you learned yours,” he answered happily, leaning down and kissing her fully on the mouth. 

He rocked himself upwards, simultaneously grinding himself onto her and thrusting in. Jane whimpered. “Oh,” she said, her body already so sensitive. She felt she could explode with the warmth of her want at any second and him now focusing his attention specifically on it only added fuel to that fire. 

Robert continued to rock forward, his cock thrusting slightly into her. They kissed and kissed, each one growing messier and less focused as they both became lost in their mounting desires. 

He was so looking at her as he never had before. There was a softness in his gaze as much as there was his desire. Robert rubbed himself against her with the express purpose of seeing how good it felt to her. 

She showed him; as her orgasm built inside of her, she shouted, “Yes, yes, yes” until she was arching up into him against her will and nearly shaking from the stimulation. Robert kissed every part of her as  she came on his cock. Every part of her felt on fire because of him. 

He plunged his cock more deeply inside of her as she came down from her orgasm, pressing his hand to her back so that she stayed slightly lifted off the couch and close to his body. She could tell he was close; his thrusts were becoming shorter and he was beginning to grunt against her. His hand crept up to her breast and she held her hand over his. “Oh, Jane,” he said, and that was it; his cock began to leak out into her. She laughed, proud and earnest and shocked. 

Robert collapsed into her body, and she was glad to have the weight of him on top of her. They felt so close like this. Her fingers carded through his sweat slicked hair, and she wondered whose heart was beating the fastest between them. 

His own laughter began to come out in soft peals. “I hope you do ruin me,” he panted. When she laughed, he added, “I really do, if what we just did was any preview of what that could be like.” 

“There’s a difference between ruining someone and love, you know?” She pushed back his hair, looking up at the high ceiling. “Though, for many it’s a fine line.” 

“Mm,” he hummed. “Well, you can be certain that I’ll be more agreeable to whatever you want to do to me from here on out, be it ruination or love.”

She smiled happily. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Fischer.” 

He looked up at her and for the first time, she saw playfulness in his gaze. “I hope you do, Mrs. Fischer, because I intend for you to feel the same about me by the end. We are going to be the richest, greediest, most in love people in all the world, if only in this home.” 

She didn’t think her smile could grow any wider. “I couldn’t want for anything more than that, darling. I really couldn’t.” 

[vervainandspritz]

Lost On You

Robert Fischer x Reader

PART 1

6.5k words

A/N: sorry it took so long but it's here, life's been busy! The story will be written in a little different style, as I got inspired by old English novels. The point of view will be switching frequently to give a bigger outlook. Let me know what you think!

Money. They say it's something acquired and that it doesn't bring happiness, but ninety eight percent of your living doesn't come from nowhere, right? We don't get to choose workplaces based on wellbeing or fun, at least not everyone has the privilege to do so. Money. Nothing else would keep me here for so long, Y/N thought.

She couldn't help but ponder on her choices, driving in an automatic state of mind, doing it out of habit and barely paying attention. It's a surprise that I never crashed, the woman thought to herself chuckling under her breath.

Glancing at the buildings and, still sitting behind the wheel of her car - a white, six-year-old Honda Civic, as she asks herself every morning: Why do I still work here? Why do I get out of bed every morning, ten minutes before my alarm, when I'm already losing to time every single day, stuck in traffic jams and still being late almost everyday? Why have I been doing this for three years instead of two.. at most?

For money and practice, that's obvious, her own, bitter at times mind replies with slight annoyance.

This is the third year of her toiling at Fischer Morrow and Y/N had no idea how time has flown by so quickly. At the age of twenty-three years old and since she started college, FM has been her first and last place of employment. She got a paid internship in October of her first year, which seemed too good to be true. Yet here she was. Honestly? It wasn't a feat or success at all, and Y/N only understood that with time. Her raging headache was slowly growing with each thought crossing her mind. It was.. a daily thing for her, her mind being on overdrive.

For centuries, there has been a belief at all types of universities that freshmen never get internships, however, this is just not true, not entirely because the truth lies somewhere else. They don't get internships because they DON'T WANT them. Yes, they don't. It's a pain in the ass. First, you have to prove yourself to get one, and then you have to immediately approach everything very seriously and for little to no money.

You have to be responsible: don't waste your weekends partying. Your mind needs to always be focused on studying and working. That's why it's better to start later. There's time for everything in life, and instead of partying, meeting people, and enjoying student life, I got busy working. I take it seriously. SERIOUSLY.

However, not everything is so bad. Over time, such actions bring tangible benefits. I have more experience than other students and I know that I will have no problems finding a job. But I also have a good salary: better than if I interned at any competitor company. FM pays me more than students are usually paid, and the salary increases with the duration of the internship, so after almost three years… I was fine. Just fine.

I'm renting an apartment of my own, I have my own “almost new” car, and well. I never need to borrow any money from anyone. It's a bad habit that I absolutely don't want to ever have.

So what keeps me going here is fucking money, Y/N eventually decides as she gets out of the car, shutting the door close and wrapping the coat around herself a little tighter, since the weather wasn't the dreamiest. It was autumn after all.

Walking through the company parking lot, she made her way towards the main entrance. Her clicking heels were the only sound around besides the raging wind. As she passed through the door, she saw a very familiar woman.

Vicky, was sitting by the receptionist desk writing something down until she heard the door swinging open.

Vicky looked up to see Y/N as she lightly smiled. Her makeup was a little too intense for the workplace, but it had become what she was known for. People liked to talk about Vicky in less flattering ways than necessary, which… maybe was another reason why Y/N grew to like her so much. Going with the flow tended to feel like an itch and, well, who liked that damn nagging sensation? Nobody. Clearly.

“Early as ever” The redhead said with a chuckle, her bold-red lips stretching into a smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a sigh, raising an eyebrow.

“...and good morning to you too. I guess” She replied, smoothing out her hair, which of course didn't want to fully lay down, slightly waving at the ends. Y/N leaned slightly over the desk. “Is the witch here already?” she asked in a quiet tone, looking around to make sure nobody caught her words.

“Which one? There's plenty” Vicky whispered back with a chuckle, seeing the unimpressed look.

Unable to contain her laughter, Y/N covered her mouth to make the snort she let out as inaudible as possible.

“The Italian one” She replied.

The Fischer Morrow company is owned by Italian-American entrepreneur Maurice Fischer. In order to work there, you need to constantly improve your language skills. Knowledge of Italian was one of the criteria to receive the internship. Even though I'm only an intern and my Italian is at a high level, I also have to attend lessons once a week. They are paid for by Fischer himself. This is another bonus of interning or working for this company in my opinion.

Free Italian language lessons. If only the Italian teacher wasn’t so terrible.

“Girl, I'm a receptionist. How am I supposed to know?” Vicky says with a sigh, followed by a shrug. Obviously she was disappointed with how little people in the company communicated with her despite being the first point of contact for anyone who entered Fischer Morrow. She was a little nosey by nature.

Y/N sighed deeply before straightening her back, grabbing her purse, and heading to the elevator with a heart pounding in her chest. She loved the Italian language, but simply despised the current teacher.

She's demanding and bitter, plus treats me like a fucking ten year old. She tends to leave us homework, which I rarely get on time because of the amount of work I have. She's thrilled every single time, needless to say.

“Y/N!” Vicky yelled out, as she rushed towards the closing elevator doors, managing to stop them on time with her arm. “You-know-who is calling us to the conference room. Not only us but most departments.” She said, trying to catch her breath in the meantime.

“What for?” Y/N asked with surprise.

Mr. Fischer was not someone who'd usually make announcements. He was demanding and reasonably kind but his expectations towards his workers were always high. Whether anyone liked it or not, he'd make a drastic change and expect people to get used to it immediately.

“Who knows, but… I'm telling you in case.” She said, giving Y/N THE look.

She immediately understood, nodding gracefully and letting out a deep breath as the door closed.

Walking through the corridor, Y/N noticed several workers heading IMMEDIATELY to the conference room.

That's sooner than expected, she thought with a sarcastic chuckle.

Caroline, the head of advertising, walked like she owned the whole building in her obscenely high heels, barely keeping from breaking her ankles as her hips swayed beneath the tight skirt.

Oh my fucking god, please not her. Anyone but her.

“Hey, Y/N” She said in a fake sweet tone that made Y/N contain an eyeroll. “Did you hear that we all have a meeting? I wonder why. Maybe something happened? Maybe I will get a promotion?!” She started babbling without giving her colleague a chance to speak at all. It wasn't anything new about her, that's just the way Caroline was.

“What's that?” Y/N asked, pointing at the hard cover in Caroline's hand, trying to smoothly change the topic.

The taller woman glanced at her own grip, like she didn't know herself before smiling once again.

“Oh, it's a calendar. I thought that I should look, you know, busy and smart since Fischer will be there.” She explained with such pride, causing Y/N to internally cringe.

Oh god, I sighed inwardly. Not that I consider myself an expert on human behaviour, but this is probably way beneath my dignity, or I haven't soaked the corporate dress code in yet.

“He'll probably start whining again and ask obvious questions.” Y/N murmured under her breath, barely listening to Caroline and Marie, another department head, who suddenly appeared by her side.

With a fucking calendar tucked under her armpit.

They immediately started talking about Vicky from the reception, feeling the need to comment on everything about her, apparently.

The boss always asks strangely simple and at the same time uncomfortable questions. He is an old-school man and often does not understand what we do. You need to explain to him the mechanisms of how some of the departments function and, despite appearances, this can be difficult. Caroline can't recall the details in her head, and Marie, in turn, can't explain how it works. That's probably why they work together. They must complement each other. But this is not a reason to discredit the boss. He wouldn't be where he is today if he weren't smart in some way? Right? Or maybe it's just my naivete, because when I look at my colleagues who pretend to be professional, hold old calendars in their hands and call the reception girl a plastic doll while holding high positions, I start to doubt it. I have the impression that the higher the position in this company, the worse the intellect and intelligence.

“But you like her, right Y/N? Can't blame you though, coming in late so often and knowing the receptionist well enough to make sure she doesn't tell on you must come in handy.” Marie said in such a fake kind way that well that annoyed Y/N more than she'd like it to.

It was supposed to sting and it did, but Marie is not my boss and all she can do is talk. I have nothing against her, but her fanatical approach to work can be tiring. Marie doesn't understand that not everyone finds her job the love of his life. By the way, I wonder how her husband feels in this arrangement, knowing that she is cheating on him with her job

Even our boss, whom I hate as much as the Italian teacher, isn't that fanatical. Another witch. My nemesis.

Katherina

She is mean and annoying, but at the same time has a lot of knowledge and experience. Sometimes a nice word will slip from her lips but it barely comes out of her throat, accompanied by THAT grimace and her praise sounds artificial from ANY distance. She doesn't have a sense of humour and is a cunning bitch. Calculating like no other and often ruthless. She always gets what she wants, and is one of the people who have the ability to approach the CEO and talk about budget in such a way ensuring she will always get the largest of all departments. Katherina is a real business bitch.

“Let's just get going” Y/N said, ripping herself out of the thoughts, turning around and slowly walking into the conference room which was by now filled with people.

We took our places by the humongous table in the middle, impatiently waiting on what was to come.

Everyone wonders what this meeting is for and quiet whispers fill the room. However, when Mr. Fischer appears with a serious face, everyone falls silent. We know right away that what he wants to tell us will not be pleasant.

Our boss is an older and slightly mannered man, with a specific sense of humour. Always dressed in a suit and a white shirt, he creates an aura of inaccessibility around him and immediately, at first glance, commands respect.

I don't like talking to him in private, although he once mentioned that he likes me and even loves my work style. To this day, I don't know how he knows what I'm doing, but it’s not important. I guess he wanted to let me know that he still has his finger on the pulse of even the smallest details.

I must admit, it's very encouraging to hear such praise from the CEO himself, but I still don't like talking to him.

The older man sits down in his usual seat and opens his notes. He looks up at all of us and sighs.

“Ladies and gentlemen” He begins almost like he was starting a holy mass in a church, and as if by an innate reflex I want to fold my hands in a prayer, even though I am not a Christian by any means. “...because I wanted to inform you that I will soon be planning to retire…” he finishes the first sentence in a weak tone, and the whole room is filled with a murmur of quiet conversations and surprised voices.

“Yes, yes, I'm so old that it's time to get going..” he adds and laughs briefly, while no one else has the courage to do so. “...and you're probably wondering who will take over the position in our company after me, well... “ He makes an appropriate pause to build tension.

“My older son Robert is coming back to us.” he finishes, and the room begins to boil, but not from words, but from employees squirming in their chairs.

They all look at each other as one and hear single words of surprise. The faces of some of them are not very optimistic, not to mention disgusted, but the boss quickly silences the noise with a loud clearing of his throat.

“...and although I know the circumstances in which he disappeared from the company, the most important thing now is that he returns and will take my position, but only in a few months, when I will re-implement and improve his training" he adds, and my thoughts wander towards my first days at work.

Despite the lack of interest Y/N had in the topic of Mr. Fishers’ son, she got an earful of it on her way back to the office.

Quiet conversations filled the corridor as people whispered about Robert Fischer, who apparently got kicked out a little time before Y/N got the job, so they never met. Not that she regretted such a sequence of events, as he sounded like an immature person lacking professional approach in work, and having more interest in women. Not the best colleague to have around.

Not long after, Maurice Fischer sighed deeply, gesturing to us that we could leave, so without waiting, Y/N made her way out of the crowded room. Ignoring Caroline's voice calling her name, she made her way through the corridor and chose the stairs instead of the elevator this time. It was faster.

Closing the door behind her back, Y/N closed her eyes for a second with a sigh, feeling relieved. Finally peace.

Sitting in her chair, she fixed her hair with a swift movement, putting it in a neat ponytail as her phone rang.

Deep sigh pushed past her lips once again, as she saw Maurice Fischer's name on the screen.

“Yes, Sir?” She responded in a professional tone without missing a beat.

“Y/N can you swing by my office in twenty minutes? I'd like to discuss something.” His voice was tense, and it didn't sound very promising.

God, I hope I didn't fuck something up, she thought.

“Of course. I'll be there, Mr. Fischer.” Her eyes shifted around the desk as she nodded unknowingly, before putting the phone down with a click.

Now, she was stressed, but it didn't mean that she could get away with the work that was waiting.

Without wasting another minute, her fingers started pressing on the keyboard at a quick pace, filling up the documents from her files, making sure no mistakes were made.

Twenty minutes passed sooner than she'd wished for them to, and soon enough Y/N was quickly walking through the corridor, holding tightly onto the file and her phone, typing away email after email before a certain impact caused her to almost drop the phone on the ground.

With a gasp she looked up, seeing a… young man with brown, neat hair and piercing blue irises.

His eyes widened for some reason as he let out a gasp.

“Katherina?” He said in a low, raspy voice which was filled with… something that Y/N couldn't quite put her finger on.

Quickly fixing up her facial expression, she cleared her throat, slightly shaking her head.

“No, no… I'm Y/N. You must have taken me for someone else.” Her voice was confident, not showing the confusion in the tiniest bit. Chin raised proudly, as she didn't shy away from eye contact, bravely grazing into his eyes.

The man blinked a couple times, sizing her up before letting out a breath as he nodded, smoothing out his suit jacket.

“Forgive me, it's… my first day today. I must have been a little confused.” He said slowly, carefully choosing his words as he straightened his back. Buttoning his jacket up one button higher, he stretched out his hand towards Y/N.

“I'm Enzo” His voice was smooth like butter, which already caused Y/N to… dislike the man in front of her.

Nevertheless, it was only proper to shake his hand in such circumstances.

“Y/N” Her voice came off kind but distanced, showing off how disinterested she was in having any longer conversations. “Unfortunately I'm in a rush, so I must go. I hope the rest of your day will pass with… less confusion.”

After the words left her mouth, she passed by him like a wind, leaving behind a trail of perfumes in the air and smirk on his lips. She seemed… challenging.

***

When I reached my floor after meeting the boss and went into my office, the girls almost immediately showed up right after me.

“So what did he want? What did he want?” They asked one after another.

“Nothing, he asked about my Italian classes.” I shrugged and they looked at me like I'm an alien.

“About Italian?” Caroline asked, slightly… deflated and confused.

“No way,” Marie murmured with annoyance.

Of course they immediately sniff out gossip.

“Yep, he asked how my teacher is and that's it.” My voice slightly bored as I looked at them, silently wanting them both to leave.

They fell silent and glanced at me and then at each other.

“Weird” said Caroline, and began to think hard about something. Still in my office, if I may add.

“Weird,” Marie repeated after her.

“So, what do you think about this Robert guy coming back?” I'm asked, because Marie and Caroline have been working here longer and probably knew him.

“Oh come on, did you see how all the girls started drooling?” Caroline asked with a smirk followed by a chuckle.

“Well, I saw what a stir it caused.” replied, sorting out the paper sheets on my desk before looking up. “That's why I'm asking.”

“He’s a womaniser, a rake, and quite the seducer,” Marie said confidently.

“Not you saying that! I thought you two were friends!” Caroline imitated her and nudged Marie in the arm with a loud giggle, covering her mouth like a schoolgirl.

“Oh come on, we had lunch together in the community kitchen because he happened to come by, and now you're saying we were friends.” Marie said indignantly with her brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Admit it, he was hitting on you” Caroline laughed at her.

"You're stupid," Marie continued grumbling and stuck out her tongue, laughing teasingly, "Admit it, you were the one who had your eye on him."

“Stupid, I've already been with Tyler, come on, stop talking nonsense, I don't want such insinuations” Caroline said, becoming more serious as her eyes widened, shifting between me and Marie.

“Okay” I said to end the argument. “I still don't understand the Robert phenomenon, can you explain it to me?”

“The Robert Fischer phenomenon cannot be explained, you have to see it yourself” Caroline stated and waved her hand at me with a smirk. “It was enough for the boss to say his name and you saw what was happening in the room?” She pushed further, proving her point.

I just nodded my head in the affirmative and Marie quickly filled in the rest.

“All the girls get wet when they see him, at least the ones who remember him.” Marie said quieter, leaning towards me with her eyes widening.

“Well, he's that handsome? Charming?” I ask further, getting slightly frustrated with not understanding the big deal. There were plenty of handsome men working in Fischer Morrow.

They nodded affirmatively, shrugging lightly. “The CEO mentioned that he's his older son, which means he has a younger one too, right?” I asked.

“Oh, yes” Caroline sighed and waved her hand dismissively “Enzo is even more of a freeloader than Robert. He studied at the Academy of Fine Arts.” She responded, and… that was all I needed to know.

“Oh no” I dramatically stuck my hand out with a chuckle.

“I guess I don't have to tell you what kind of guy it is” Caroline winked before starting to laugh.

“No, no, thanks,” I shook my head disapprovingly.

My brother also studied at the Academy of Fine Arts and although I love him more than anything in my life, I know exactly what kind of person he is. He lives for alcohol, parties and has no principles. He gets up when he's had enough sleep, talks to people when he thinks he needs it and doesn't care who he sleeps with. Only art resides in his heart and next to it there is no room for any woman or man - if he were gay, which he isn't - but there is plenty of that room in his bed. Every night. For any pretty girl he sets his mind to. A typical visual person. He likes big tits, blonde hair and a bit of weirdness. The last girl he spent the night with in my apartment had half of her body tattooed. He is fascinated by tattoos.

In one word: Artist.

Caroline and Marie laughed loudly, leaving my office, and I sat down at my desk, the topic of Robert Fischer and his little brother no longer interested me.

I turned on my computer and started replying to a dozen or so emails and that's how I spent the rest of my shift.

***

Coming in another day wasn't easier at all, the weather getting WORSE, causing Y/N to give up on wearing heels that day, as she preferred to keep her legs intact rather than get hurt.

Walking into the building, like always, she looked around for Vicky who was sitting by the desk.

“Y/N!” She hissed suddenly.

"What?" I asked surprised, coming up closer to the desk as I set my purse down, looking for a hand balm.

“Witch” Vickie replied and grimaced as she did so, letting Y/N know that the teacher was already impatient and annoyed because of her being late and that Vicky had no idea what the other woman was doing here.

When sudden realisation hit, she barely restrained herself from hitting herself in the forehead.

“God! Wednesday!” A panicked whisper pushed past her lips. “I have Monday's Italian lesson due today. I completely forgot. Please, occupy her for a second.” She whispered pleadingly and still almost silently, knowing that the door to the room where the teacher was was open and that she could probably hear the conversation if she tried hard enough.

“Okay” after a minute of silence Vicky gave her a nod “...but hurry up. I don't want her to turn me into a frog.” She snorted a short laugh and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I'll just take my jacket off, and open my office. Then I'm ready.” Y/N replied again quietly and ran towards the right office wing.

She quickly stripped off her coat and grabbed the notebook and pen, hurrying back to the reception desk. Just before the door to the hall, she smoothed down her black dress, hair and entered quietly.

“Buongiorno” She greeted, but to her surprise, there was no one inside. Looking around and coming in deeper only did I notice them.

At a small conference table she was sitting accompanied by the guy I bumped into outside a few days ago. The handsome, very much my type, weird Enzo.

Taking advantage of the fact she was still not visible to them, Y/N smiled lightly to herself, a shiver running down her spine.

I wonder what he's doing here? She thought.

Both of them, busy talking, barely noticed Y/N’s entrance, especially… older teacher. If she could, she would melt under the pressure of his gaze, like ice cream in the sun.

It wasn't surprising seeing the effect he had on most women, but the situation was embarrassing to say the least, because she was about twenty years older than him.

They only stopped their oh-so-nice chat when Y/N cleared her throat and sat down at the table.

They both looked at her, the woman with distaste, and Fischer in a way that made Y/N feel like she was completely naked.

“God, Mother Nature or other creator of all existence, what a look!” She thought to herself before wondering more and more intensely what the boss’ younger son was doing here.

“Buongiorno,” the teacher greeted finally, while Enzo only started looking at the younger woman even more insistently. Sigh.

I glanced at him. He was dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, sitting squarely across from me, with his legs crossed, his ankle resting on his knee. He was looking straight at me the whole time. A shiver ran down my spine again and I couldn't stop or resist it in any way. His gaze so insistent, but also… intriguing. He was clearly the type who knows exactly how to look at a woman to intimidate her. My gaze shifted at my notes, as I started trying not to glance at him again.

I felt a little embarrassed and completely intimidated. I immediately remember the warmth of his hand and his smooth voice as I saw him the last time I saw him. It was a nice thought.

No matter how hard I tried, I could still feel his eyes on me. I knew he was staring at me, but I almost never let myself get provoked so I tried not to glance or show him that his gaze had any effect on me.

Turned out that the teacher noticed it as well and was.. probably jealous of his attention? This whole situation was so odd, that I had no idea what to do.

The older woman straightened her back, clearing her throat like I did a couple moments ago and ostentatiously shoved the attendance list under his nose so that he wouldn't stare at me anymore.

"Please sign," she said to him sweetly.

Interesting. Are they on first name terms? Yeah, right. Who wouldn't want to be on first name terms with a guy like that?

I glanced at him again, starting to secretly observe what he was doing, and without taking his eyes off me, he picked up a pen and casually signed the list, followed by pushing it away from him as if it were something unnecessary.

I looked away again, pretending to look for something in my notebook, and he rested his elbows on the conference table and leaned toward me.

“Buongiorno, Y/N. I didn't know I'd have the honor of taking classes with you.” He spoke in pure Italian with an accent that his teacher probably envied.

I stared at him in surprise for a moment.

But how? Is he going to attend classes with me? Will the CEO's younger son also work in the company? The CEO didn't mention anything!

“Oh, so you know each other?” The teacher asked pleasantly, but her artificiality gave her away quickly, trying to mask her displeasure at the fact that he knew me and on top of that, said it was an honor.

“Yes, we met a few days ago.” I answered her briefly, which was enough to cause the displeased grimace on her face, as she failed to cover it with a fake smile.

…Which made her look like a frog that got run over.

“Robert will be attending the classes with you, the CEO asked for it.” Mrs Conner explained, seeing the questioning look in my eyes.

In the meantime Robert pulled out the worksheets and started arranging them into two piles. One for me, one for him.

…and that's when I realised.

Wait, who? What Robert? My mind raced to the moment he walked in on me earlier, and I could swear that he introduced himself as Enzo, right?

I wondered, my eyes narrowed before I swiftly pulled the list of names closer to me a bit too quickly. He introduced himself as Enzo!

That's when I heard his soft snort and for some reason I just knew he was making fun of me.

Under the date of today's class I was listed and of course not any Enzo, but… Robert Fischer.

A womaniser, a pick-up artist, and... as it turns out, also a liar.

The Boss' elder son.

The man who was supposed to become my boss so very soon, already fucking up the first impression.

Why do I immediately judge him very badly and assume that he has a nasty character? Well, after what I heard from Caroline and Marie and after how he charmed me, pretending to be someone else.. I can't lie, it's a HORRIBLE first expression!

Even seeing him makes my assumptions clear, it was visible to the naked eye for what pleasures of life he was brought into this world. With such beauty and manner, you don't sit in an office, you lie in bed with women who push themselves there, one after another.

At that moment I immediately understood the ‘Robert Fischer phenomenon’ my colleagues told me about.

I sighed and signed the list without a word, because I didn't even know what to say to him. Thank you? Besides, I had zero intentions for pleasantries after he decided to lie to me after seeing me for the first time. That's what I hated the most, dishonest people.

It annoyed me that he is a man who is absolutely my type, in terms of looks, I couldn’t deny that, but in terms of character, well, he leaves A LOT to be desired, and that's probably why his behaviour intimidated me so much. I felt like an idiot.

“Have you been learning Italian for a long time?” he asked in Italian with a sly smile. Piercing blue eyes scanning my face, looking for… a reaction perhaps.

I glanced at him and he was still staring at me. He was doing it in a way that he knew was making me feel uncomfortable. He was being pushy and rude. A caveman-like show off in a rather unsophisticated way, that I've caught his eye and that he was interested in me for a reason. It was awful.

“It depends,” I answered, also in Italian, looking down at my notes.

“On what?” He pressed further, making me want to roll my eyes so hard they'd just roll out of my damn skull.

“How long is ‘long’ for you?” I answered the question with a question and glanced at the teacher.

Still arranging worksheets.

"How long have you been studying?" His voice became more.. annoyed which gave me some unknown satisfaction. Smiling sweetly, I looked into his eyes with my chin turned up.

“Ten years” I’ve said with honesty in my tone, remembering how, when I was a little girl, I forced my parents to teach me my first lesson.

Italian was not a popular language in the States.

“Ten years?” Robert repeats with a surprise.

I didn't answer, not understanding what was so strange about it, and I had zero will to dwell on why HE was surprised. “After so many years you should already speak with an accent and be above C1.” He added arrogantly, leaning back in his chair which made me scoff.

“And you? How much do you study?” I asked in response without soaring him a single glance.

“Me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Well, technically it was obvious for most of the people here, but why would I give him the satisfaction?

From birth, I assumed.

“So what? Only C1? After forty years?” I mocked with a snort, causing the teacher to open her wrinkly eyes slightly wider at the exchange, as I insinuated that he was not only stupid, but also a forty year old man.

Obviously, he wasn't that age and I was fully aware. If he was thirty, I'd be surprised. I also knew that there are C2 level lessons with a native speaker in the company, but it still made me scoff.

A couple seconds of silence got interrupted as he snorted derisively. I glanced at Robert, catching him staring at me with a stupid smile on his pink lips. He was clearly showing me that he, in fact, did enjoy the little stand off we just had. He was impressed.

God, what have I done?

I quickly became annoyed at myself for losing my cool so fast, and at him for even making me lose it at all. I should have bit my tongue earlier or told him off, but I didn't know how. What would I tell him? To stop staring at me, or to stop picking on me? He'd probably pretend I was imagining things. Because that's how it goes. He only asked about the lessons, but he kept staring at me, and I couldn’t make him understand not to. Besides, I quickly grew worried about what the teacher thought. The last thing I needed was for any gossip to spread around the company, and I knew that the teacher is close friends with the girls from the Accounting Department. She also has lessons with them and they're on first-name terms, because they're about the same age and apparently she studied Italian Philology with one of them. I already could hear them talking shit.

The rest of the lesson passed on me trying to JUST survive. I didn't enjoy it much, as they took their sweet time bragging about their posh lives and places they've been to. Of course in a fluent Italian. I wasn't sure whether he was trying to impress her or anything, but this behaviour made me cringe internally. I couldn't help but count down every minute until the very end.

When the clock finally hit ten, I got up and packed my stuff immediately, rushing to leave the classroom before my head would explode. Passing through the doorway I said goodbye to Robert and the Witch with a short "addio". Right outside the door I quickened my pace as I could hear Robert leaving right behind me. I sneaked away, quickly entering the girls' restroom.

I got to the sink and turned on the water to wash my hands, at the same moment as my eyes caught in a mirror image of Robert walking into the bathroom behind me.

For a second I froze, rooted to the spot. Has he gone mad?

I stared at him for a moment and wondered how I should address him. He was not much older than me. Maybe five years at most, but he was my soon-to-be-boss. He lied about his name and FOLLOWED ME INTO THE TOILET!

“Mr. Fischer, you should leave. It's inappropriate.” I addressed him formally, wanting to emphasise the distance between us.

Even though it was my right to demand it from him, I still felt nervous. Maybe scared even.

A guy followed me into the ladies' room and I know he didn't come here by accident. If he had, he would have come out, apologising, but he was still standing there and looking at me like I'm... In the wrong place.

No, more like prey.

“Why?” He asked stupidly, furrowing his eyebrows in a fake incomprehension as he smiled mockingly.

.. leaning on his shoulder against the wall with arms crossed on his torso.

“Because it's a women's restroom?” I replied in a sharp tone and a fair bit of sarcasm, mirroring his stupid expression.

"So what?" he asked arrogantly, shrugging.

His response took me aback and surprised by his directness. Other women said he was unpredictable, but this bordered on harassment, yet I pushed this thought away. He's just a womaniser and a flirt. I guess he stopped developing in high school.

Eyeing him for a second I straighten my back, keeping my composure.

“Actually, nothing, you can stay here, after all, even the women's toilet is yours in this company, I forgot, but I'm leaving.” I said in a professional tone and without even wiping my hands, headed towards the door as if I had been scalded.

Suddenly he stopped me by pressing his back against the door, cutting off my escape route. I'm trapped, my thoughts racing. I bet someone's going to try to get in here in a minute and find me in the WOMEN'S ROOM WITH THE CEO’S SON! The one whose reputation isn't exactly spotless.

As I look up, his eyes shift around my face and I can see something new in his expression. A glimpse of awkwardness or maybe even… shame?

“I didn't want you to take it that way.” Robert said quickly, raising his hands in surrender as he saw the fear in my eyes. “I wanted to apologise for lying about my name.” He said, as if with regret, and if we weren't in the ladies' room, I might have believed him.

“I’m not angry, but please let me out immediately!” I raised my voice at him, and he looked me in the eyes for a couple seconds, before moving to the side and moving away from the door. He left me enough space to pass through, which I did, as my shoulder brushed against his chest in the meantime.

“It was good to see you, Miss Y/L/N” he added as I passed by before the door shut, still very confident and smiling like the devil.

I left the bathroom as if I was being chased and almost ran to my office. Entering the room, I shut the door closed and let out a deep breath.

I was absolutely outraged and shocked!

What a jerk! How dare he!

Taglist:

@lau219 @4ria790 @sasha28x @xsweetcatastrophe @betty21rose @aashika1908

[fcyrah]

Rain-ception

A dog drawing a dog drawing a dog drawing a dog drawing a dog drawing a dog drawing a dog drawing a dog...

Twitter | Pixiv | TikTok | BlueSky

[den-kunn]

funne meme ft chaos storm

og image v

[di-devil]

Hazard and her friend

When you have a friend who always saves your ass @eveningpigeon (yes bro? Hehe. Protect that ass )

[lmelodie]

Happened mere SECONDS after his toddler sister interrupted them and ruined the mood in the most embarrassing way possible.

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Oooo imagine Robert Fischer with an innocent, girly early 20s (so age gap) college student reader gf that he spoils absolutely rotten 🤧 She’s a sweetheart and doesn’t want Robert to think she loves him for his money, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get extremely excited whenever Robert gives her a gift (which happens 24/7) also you know this man is paying for her college tuition, textbooks, having her driven via limo to and from classes and her part time job. Y/n not being used to spending a whole lot (being on a part time job, college student salary) so she’ll take Robert “window shopping”, which the concept would ABSOLUTELY confuse him, not to mention whenever she even so much as showed the slightest bit of interest in something, this man is buying 10 of each. He’d just be such a loving bf omg

Y/n tries to pay for her own drink at a coffeeshop one time and he’s like, “Baby?? No!! I got it.” As he proceeds to pay for her drink, his drink, and one of every pastry that Y/n like”

@paradiseprincesss @nocturnest

[heylorrain]

𝐸𝓁𝑜𝒾𝓈𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝒷𝒷𝒾𝓉

.

An extremely early Christmas present for you @myokk 💓🫂

Síguenos deleitando con tu arte y escritura, entusiasmo y buenas vibras, que eres una artista hecha y derecha + un bellísimo ser humano! ✨ Sabes que te aprecio mucho y (aunque ya te lo haya dicho jeje) siempre estaré agradecida de coincidir contigo en esta plataforma!

.

Merry Xmas girl! 🎅❤️‍🔥🫂

[gabbertrapmix]

If I had a nickel for every old man dragon character with an adoptive steel-type child that has a ghost-type partner I've made I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but weird that it happened twice

[captainkurosolaire]

~ Emergency Broadcast ~

<Attention lowly meat-suits. ...Today Is the most important-day of yer miserable lives! It's International Cat-Day. But my decree, I demand it; b' fer all fur, scale, animals n' between. Right now, stop what you're doing and pay attention to your superior-creature, say your gratitude for us having to deal with your issues on a regular basis, ensure we're fed the finest cuisines! Fer if you do not! We'll begin our RECKONING! MUW-AH-HA.> *Chokes on furball*

(Meows, agreeing to itself.)

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(16) - Epilogue

I Dreamed We'd Grow Old Together...

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Robert and Y/n's life over the next five years

word count - 2k

warnings - pregnancy, and an insane amount of fluff

a/n - and so it ends! This fic has been very important to me and has given me such a great outlet. I want to thank you all for your continued love and support for this fic! If it hadnt been for you guys I probably wouldnt have had enough confidence to continue it!

Please like/comment/reblog/follow!!!

a/n pt2 - Also seeing as I have fallen in love with this relationship I will be accepting questions and headcanons on their relationship!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

Questions and Headcanons on Robert x y/n - here

And so we came together. It felt like the culmination of a thousand dreams.

We went out on many dates. Robert would plan these luxurious and expensive expressions of affection: dinner at the fanciest restaurants, cinemas bought out for our private viewing experience. But we alternated who planned the dates, so when it came to my turn I went for the simplest. Walks on the beach, picnics in the park. One day I even found a crafting class for us, and I could’ve cried on the spot when I saw his eyes light up at the handmade windmills. Of course, he saw it as a happy coincidence when in reality I enjoyed feeling like I was healing his childhood self, one step at a time.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. We were out on a hike which I had chosen. He had grumbled about the idea of getting up early, but I could see the stress leave his body at the first gulp of forest air. I carried on ahead as he went to tie his shoe but when I turned back I gasped. Robert was down on one knee, holding a beautiful diamond ring.

“Y/n Cobb, I have loved you since that first moment I laid eyes on you, and I think even before that.” I walked closer to him so I could hold his other outstretched hand. Tears were streaming down my face and my smile was holding back an extremely loud yes. “I know how much you believe in dreams and so on. And last night I had a dream that we grew old together. When I woke up I knew it had to be my reality. Y/n Cobb, will you…”

I threw my arms around him.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” I placed a loud kiss right on his lips.

“You could have at least let me finish!” He teasingly whined.

“Well I could see where you were going!” I argued back but was halted when he kissed me once more. We pulled away long enough so Robert could slide the ring onto my finger.

Safe to say, we did not finish the hike that day as we quickly went home to celebrate.

I had moved in with Robert before so we visited Dad and the kids for lunch the day after to give them the news. Dad had always been weary around Robert, not knowing if he would recognise him. But it was fine as, in my Dad’s words, ‘when Robert is around Y/n, it’s like the world doesn’t exist.’. Dad still couldn’t stop himself pulling Robert aside whilst Philippa was asking me a million questions about the wedding and if she could be a bridesmaid. All he did was roughly grab his hand and pulled him close and merely whispered

“She’s my precious girl. And I have a gun.”

Safe to say Robert was healthily shocked.

We got married weeks later as neither of us could wait. I told Robert I didn’t care about a big expensive wedding, but he couldn’t seem to accept that.

I got my wish for a small wedding in the garden of my childhood home, with just my closest friends. But everything else about it was still ridiculously posh. Right down to the flower arch we were married under.

James and Philippa were my brides’girl’ and brides’boy’. My father walked me down the makeshift aisle. Arthur and Eames were there as well as Yusuf and Ariadne. They were all worried about the risk of the inceptors being so close to the mark after the heist.

“There’s no telling what could trigger his memory.”

“Well, y/n spent the most time with him out of all of us and she’s marrying him.”

“We can’t all sleep with him!”

“ENOUGH!”

I then put a rule that there was to be no dream talk at my wedding. My father even gave his own little speech explaining that if anyone ruined my wedding, he would kill them. We all laughed but his continued silence quickly shut us all up.

Robert did not want any family there. And he also didn’t have friends he felt were close enough to warrant an invitation.

One night, whilst planning, I cautiously asked him about inviting his godfather. He tensed up and lowered his eyes. He brushed it off saying it would be too many people. I reluctantly agreed with him whilst looking at the sparsity of his side of the guests.

The wedding was beautiful, and we finished with dancing on the grass well into the early hours of the morning. I got my first dance with my father, a day I thought would never come. Philippa asked Robert to dance, and he graciously accepted, lifting her up onto his feet and they swayed alongside us.

The morning after we were curled up together in bed. My back leaned on his chest as he played with my fingers. The morning sun bleeding into my childhood bedroom.

“Where do you want to live?” His morning voice broke the quiet.

“I thought we were going to move into your house.” I tilted my head to look into his eyes which were trained on a picture of me, my dad and my mum.

“I don’t wanna go back. Being here, in this house, with all the love in it. I just don’t want to go back there.”

“Okay.” I leaned up and planted a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So if you could live in any house, anywhere in the world, where would you live?”

I snuggled myself back into his chest and closed my eyes as I imagined.

“Somewhere in the countryside, with a big sprawling garden that backs onto fields and forests with plenty of walks. The house should be cozy, with a big kitchen with an old fashioned stove that keeps us warm in winter. Wooden tables where I can cook and bake all day long till my hearts content. The house should have big windows so the sunlight can dictate our day. Small bedrooms but big comfy beds, fluffy rugs, open fires. And maybe even an extra room...with a cot.” I met his eyes for the last word.

“Yes.”

“To which bit?”

“To all of it.” We kissed passionately.

A few days later and Robert woke me up and told me we were going on a trip. We bundled into his car and drove for hours until we came to a stop outside a house that seeped with familiarity. I got out, transfixed by what stood before me. It was as real from my mind as if I had created it in my dream. Robert moved to unlock the little gate which led to the front door. He turned to me and held out a set of keys with a little windmill keychain.

“It needs a bit of work and I know I shouldn’t have bought it without showing you—”

“I love it.”

We didn’t need a honeymoon, the two weeks to ourselves spent decorating and filling the house with our love was enough. I drew designs for each room and Robert would do the heavy lifting. I could see how much he enjoyed working with his hands after dismantling his business a week into our relationship. I also was unable to help much as my hand found softly stroked a barely noticeable bump.

We relished in the days of decorating, where trying to paint a single wall would turn into silly games or dancing round to music, intermittent with many kisses and hugs.

Eventually we had built our home out of our house and we relaxed into our sofa, a bottle of red between us. We sealed the night with a kiss and it definitely didn’t end there.

Five Years Later

I stand at the sink washing our dishes from lunch and look out of the window onto our expansive garden. Robert runs about the grass, clad in soft jeans and a ratty knitted jumper. Our three darling children chase around him at varying speeds. Our eldest, Isla, holds her baby sister Aspen’s hand, and Nicholas, the youngest, toddles behind his sisters, excited to be involved.

Arthur runs up from behind and scoops Nicholas up into his arms through the giggling shrieks of the three. He bounces Nicholas up into the air. Isla and Aspen then run over and begin shouting up at their uncle for their turn.

I don’t hear Robert make his way into the house, I just feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist and soft kisses being ladened up and down my neck. I sink back into his body which is warm from the sun. His arms snake down and his hands lay on mine.

“Leave those now. I’ll do them later.” I agree by turning in his arms so we can meet in a proper kiss. His fingers grip my waist and stroke my sides.

Our moment is interrupted by a loud opening of the door. I roll my eyes at the familiar sound and break apart to greet Eames at the door.

“Right! Where are my darling godchildren?”

“I give you a good time to come round, and you insist on coming just before their tea and bath time.”

He laughs and knocks my chin with his knuckle.

“Motherhood suits you.” I bat his hand away and gesture out the door. “Make it quick.”

I turn back to a still laughing Robert who quickly stops once he sees my stern face.

“I’ll ask Eames if he wants to stay for tea with Arthur.” He goes to go back into the garden.

“What you thinking for tea?” I ask his retreating form.

“Chicken and potatoes?”

“Delicious.” He smiles and leaves.

I begin sorting through the mail which still sat on the side. I smiled once I reached a postcard from Dad. He’d taken the kids to Disneyland for a week and sent a picture of them with Goofy. I pinned it up on our cork board.

My peaceful moment is soon interrupted.

“Y/n! Tell Arthur that I’m the favourite uncle!”

“Y/n! Tell Eames that fun does not have to mean dangerous!”

“Mama, mama, Uncle Eames turned me upside down and span me around!”

“See! Dangerous!”

“Honey, where’s the disinfectant? Aspen scraped her knee.”

“Mummy it really hurts!”

“Mama! Uppies! Uppies!”

I picked Nicholas up into my arms and simply giggled, perfectly happy with my life.

It was now night. Arthur and Eames had left after insisting on reading the kids stories which meant they were roped into reading 3 stories per child. Nicholas had gone down first. Then Aspen and even though Isla had loved staying up with mummy and daddy, tiredness had overcome her quickly. So Robert carried her up and tucked her into bed.

We now lay in bed together, curled up. Simply relishing in the silence that was so foreign in our big house.

“Do you wanna know something strange?” He broke the silence. “That day we met, I had a dream about a girl who I fell in love with. I like to think it was you.”

I bit my lip to stop myself uncontrollably grinning.

“And since then, my dreams have been consumed by you and our little family.”

I tried to meet his eyes, but he was locked in thought and I knew I couldn’t interrupt his thoughtfulness.

“The moment I met you I realised that I wanted to create my own family rather than continue working for one that never loved me.”

I hugged him tighter as his voice shook slightly.

“Well, that’s good. Because your family is about to get a little bigger.” I took his hand and drifted it down until it landed on a subtle bump.

“Perfect.” He kissed my hairline as his hand stroked up and down my stomach.

The silence resumed and we both fell deeper into the stillness of the night. But as I drifted off one thought plagued my mind.

Perhaps the idea never actually took hold.

Perhaps it was me and him.

Us together, that changed his life.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Thank you so much for reading!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek @kaylamarie306-blog @bloodcanbehot @lazybot @raineeace @thearieunhinged @multifans-things @queenofterrasen418 @bey0ndne0 @justanotherkpopstanlol @iamliterallyspidergwen @frozenhuntress67 @alice2612

[den-kunn]

yapper + listener

og image + idea v

[ribbittrobbit]

Hiyaw and Himik, the twin deities of noise and silence, of movement and stillness, of action and contemplation.

The church of Taw (from the root word for volumen/ strength of voice), has a dual structure to mirror its deities. Clerics choose to walk either the path of silence - the most radical followers dedicate themselves to a vow of complete silence and contemplation, retreating to monasteries in the most remote regions- or the path of noise - the order dedicated to the service of the church and its followers outside of the monasteries. The central principle of the religion is the duality and balance between the two deities' domains. The silent order serves to balance out the order of noise, to be the stillness to their movement, the deliberation to their action and vice versa. The religion is a relatively small but ancient one, with many devotees among musicians, poets and performers and a great emphasis on ceremony and the performance of rituals that combine the texts of Hiyaw and Himik.

(did i just spend the last two days thinking about making an entire fake religion complete with a clerical structure for my fh sona? yes. did i bastardise the filipino words like "scream" and "quiet" to find matching names for them? also yes.)