Younger Beckett who teases her about being a cougar
I love age gaps both ways 😂😂😂
“What are you doing?” He feigns a gasp, his hand covering his mouth when you move toward him, as if you’re about to kiss him without consent. You’ve struggled all night at this banquet, finding Beckett’s eyes everytime you look over, cause he’s always looking at you first, grinning that smile you know too well. He’s not trying to be inconspicuous in the slightest.
He followed you when you gave him a look, down a dark corridor no one else was in. Now, he’s pretending like you forced him, like you’re the predator.
“I’m a child, basically.” His cheeks are round, apple red.
Your expression turns sour. His button down under his blazer has lost a few buttons throughout the night. His hair is all mussed cause he has an anxious habit of running through it when he’s got nothing useful to do with his hands. He likes touching things, and you’re surprised he hasn’t gripped your waist yet.
“Yeah,” you laugh, eyes crinkling, “a child with that voice.”
He’s all bashful. His eyes look you over again in your formal dress, a sparkle in them. “God, you’re so hot.” The words spill out his mouth, before he realizes how eager it sounds. You give him a small smile.
“You old enough to take care of me tonight?”
“Yes—” he says all too quickly, “yeah, sorry.” He shakes his head, eyes shutting tight.
Fwb Beck remembering the first time u guys hu (the dry hump fic) and he remembers u saying something along the lines of “there are vibrators and stuff…” and he’s like okay lemme see then and he buys one for her (for road trip purposes).
from da drafts for tonight
“What the fuck is this?” Your phone is pressed up right to your ear. You’re staring at the small package on your kitchen counter, half opened, standing a few feet away like actually touching the product inside will make the whole thing detonate.
“You got it?” He says over the line, something like excitement laced in his tone.
“Why would you…what is your issue?”
He laughs in your ear, and it makes your skin crawl, goosebumps forming all over. “I thought you might need some help.”
“How full of yourself do you have to be?” You scoff, anxiously tapping the counter, trying not to look at the new toy resting in pretty parchment.
When you got home earlier, a discrete cardboard box resting on your doormat, you thought you had ordered something late at night, and some type of alcohol running through your veins made you forget you’d entered your card details online somewhere. But as you inspected closer, that wasn’t the case. It was addressed to you, so it wasn’t a neighbors or anything. There was no branding, just brown cardboard and tape.
And then, when you opened it, anxious like it were a christmas present, your stomach dropped and curdled, sour and then warm. Too warm for your liking. You huffed out a small breath, a tiny pulsing pleasure running down your nervous system at the sight of a curved vibrator, purple and definitely made to go inside—to stimulate your soft spot. There was no one else on this planet earth that would do something so intrusive, so stupid, so fucking hot. You called him, too scared to touch the thing.
“You didn’t have one. I’m away. What’s so wrong with wanting to help my friend?”
You groan. “Where are you right now?”
“In my hotel room, alone.”
“I didn’t—I wasn’t wondering if you were alone.”
“It’ll work better than your pillows you love so much.”
“Beckett, I’m seriously going to hang up on you.”
“You’re gonna use it, right?”
You sigh, leaning your body forward. The hesitation is all he needs to pounce on.
“The only nice thing to do is let me listen.”
—
“How does this even…?” You’re sitting on your bed, your fucking phone laid out on speaker next to you. You feel the vibrator in your hands. It’s light, and there’s little buttons on the bottom. “This is really stupid, Beck.”
“No ‘thank you’ yet?”
“I didn’t ask for this!” When you press on one button, the curved tip starts gently shaking. You hold your breath. “‘Kay, well, figured that out.” You press the plus sign, and it starts getting louder. You internally scream. How was that supposed to work inside you? “And no, I’m not facetiming you.” That’s too embarrassing.
“Next time, then.”
You ignore that.
“Can’t believe you…” you say, shimmying down your pants and underwear. It’s shameful how sticky you are. “You can’t just send these things to me.”
“Just did. And you’re grateful, aren’t you?”
“No—oh,” you let out. You press it softly inside, turned off, obviously, because you’re not trying to die. It’s a stretch, even with how turned on you are. When it starts to curve inside, you shudder. It’s already brushing up right there. Beckett’s not talking, probably straining to hear. You pick the phone up in your free hand and bring it closer.
“I—uhm, it’s in.” You try to think about what he looks like. Disheveled, spit pooling in his mouth, shirt hiked up and palming himself, you hope.
“C’mon. Turn it on.”
You tentatively press the lowest setting. It hooks the spot, drawing a soft whine out of you. Beckett curses on the other line.
“Am I supposed to—fuck—talk during this?” you say. You’re a nervous wreck, not sure whether the sweat on your temples is from your arousal or the anxiety of doing this with him.
“No, I’ll talk to you,” your phone is pressed against your ear, and you can almost imagine his lips are mouthing on your lobe, running along the shell, like he does so much. “Turn it up another level.” It already feels too much—the soft vibration fluttering around your insides. You sigh, and do exactly as he says.
It’s all so foreign.
“God, I miss your pussy.” Your heart rate spikes, a little moan escaping your mouth. You can hear ruffling on the other line. “It’s been too long.” You bite your lip to keep the snide remark down. It’s been maybe five days since he came over, complaining that he needed to see you before he flew to Dallas early the following morning. You want to tease him, but you missed him too, plus your eyes are starting to roll into the back of your head, and stringing together more than three words would be a challenge.
“I can hear how wet you are—”
“S-stop…” you sob out. “Ah—Ah!”
“Yeah? You never want me to stop. Such a liar.” He’s so close you can hear the static, can hear all the condescension dripping thick over the line. “You’re so easy.”
Those three words break the dam. Barely been five minutes. Your hand didn’t even get time to cramp up. Beckett hears you, how you completely stop breathing, then gasp, phone thudding on the blanket. It’s a blissful time. Your vision goes white, spasms of pleasure from your insides radiating down every limb. All the blood rushes to your face.
You don’t even know what to say—yes, I’m so easy I even came when you said the truth out loud. So you kind of just breathe out through your nose, staring up at your bedroom ceiling.
“Good?” His voice startles you.
“No, fuck you. It was terrible.”
He laughs, and your stomach curdles. “Don’t get—don’t have too much fun without me.”
“Whatever.” You scoff, like the last thing you’ll be doing is picking up that toy and using it again. It lays on your sheets, all disgusting and wet. God, you have to change your bedding now too. It’s all his fault.
policing what you wear. makes you turn around and critiques the length. picking the college parties you’re allowed to go to (barely any). no sex until assignments are done 😁 sex in your little tiny dorm room bed
I keep thinking about age gap beckett x reader.. I’m usually not into age gap stuff but the idea of older!beckett still acting like a dumb teenager but wanting to be better for you..😵💫
oh god he has to get his act together because all he wants to do is take care of you…
and uhm ig if you guys will allow me to be freaky. he’s like. your dad. and gives you curfew and drives you everywhere. and makes sure all your friends are good enough for you. and . yeah other stuff
