10h
thinking about clicker training with will.. both ways.. I need to make this man whimper, simultaneously I need him to make me whimper
- 🍒
wait oh my god this is so real 🍒!! my brother just another me for real
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thinking about clicker training with will.. both ways.. I need to make this man whimper, simultaneously I need him to make me whimper
- 🍒
wait oh my god this is so real 🍒!! my brother just another me for real
heard we were talking about sub! will? 😜 need to step on him and make him wear a lace pair of panties tbh… NEED TO MAKE HIM HUMP MY SHOES GRAAAAAAH!
- 🍒
🍒, this is absolute poetry. imagine stepping on him with like a pair of proper stomper boots and watch his cock harden as you graze the sole of the boot over his crotch and he starts to whine……
oh and the panties thing??? him in a proper babydoll dress too, all pretty in lingerie and pouty lipped as he grinds into your shoe, his eyes wide as he looks so pathetic rutting on your boot. YES PLEASE
thinking about mean!will and choking! when he doesnt get his way he just grabs your throat pressing his thumbs into the soft skin. but he'd only ever do it out of love!
oh anon, he’d definitely do this!! i definitely think mean!will loves a large hand wrapped around your throat when you’re having sex, i think he definitely loves the thrill of watching your eyes glass over a little as he applies the pressure.
i can definitely also see him slapping your cheek and then going to grip your neck tightly if you stop paying attention to him during sex, only for him to fuck you harder when he’s got his hand around your neck again so easily, like it’s nothing.
BLIND DATE GONE... RIGHT?. w. lenney
summary: a blind date arranged by friends unexpectedly brings will and yn together, leading to a secret romance built on late-night texts, cosy dates, and plenty of laughter.
requested: yes / no
face claim: pics found on pinterest
will had been ignoring the messages for three days.
his group chat had long since given up discussing football or youtube videos and instead dedicated itself entirely to making fun of his dating life— or lack of.
stephen: its actuallly getting concerning now
harry: mate, you've been single single for so long your ideal date is a tesco meal deal
will: cheers lads. really appreciate the support.
the teasing only got worse from there.
every suggestion of downloading a dating app had been met with immediate refusal. every attempt at setting him up with someone ended with will making an excuse at the last minute. it wasn't that he hated dating, he just hated everything that came before it. the awkward small talk, the pressure, the expectation that he had to impress someone he'd only just met.
so when stephen casually mentioned he knew someone who had a friend "perfect" for him, will laughed it off.
"no chance."
"you haven't even heard anything about her" stephen argued.
"i don't need to."
"she's funny."
"so are loads of people."
"she's an influencer."
will groaned dramatically "that somehow makes me less interested."
harry rolled his eyes from the other side of the room "you're impossible."
"i'm realistic."
stephen folded his arms "one date."
"No."
"one dinner."
"no."
"you don't even have to pay if it goes badly."
"...tempting."
harry smirked "see? he's cracking."
will sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before pointing at stephen "if she's weird, I'm blaming you."
"i promise" stephen grinned "you'll like her."
—
across the city, the conservation wasn't all that different.
"i've already said no."
"you've said no to the last four people."
"exactly."
her best friend sighed dramatically, dropping onto the sofa beside her "you can't spend every friday night editing videos."
"i don't"
"you edit videos... and watch reality tv."
"that's called balance."
"it isn't"
she laughed, throwing a cushion at her friend.
dating wasn't exactly high on her priority list. between brand deals, filming, editing and trying to maintain some sort of social life, she'd convinced herself she was too busy. besides, the lastt relationship she'd had ended badly enough that she'd stopped looking altogether.
which was exactly why her best friend refused to let the subject drop.
"just one date."
"you sound desperate."
"i am. for you."
she rolled her eyes.
"i don't even know who he is."
"good."
"what does that mean?"
"it means you're not allowed to google him."
her eyebrows lifted.
"so I do know him?"
"no comment."
"is he an influencer?"
"...maybe."
she laughed.
"you've definitely made this sound suspicious."
"it's not suspicious!" her friend protested. "he's genuinely lovely."
"if he's lovely, why's he single?"
her friend hesitated for just a second too long.
"...because he's an idiot."
that earned another laugh.
she looked down at her phone before letting out a quiet sigh.
"fine."
her friend blinked.
"fine?"
"one date."
the scream that followed was loud enough to make her regret agreeing almost immediately.
"oh my god!"
"please stop shouting."
"i'm booking the restaurant before you change your mind."
she shook her head, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
"one date" she reminded her.
"if it's awful, i never have to do it again."
her friend grinned.
"if it's awful... i'll personally buy you dessert."
neither of them had the slightest idea that, for once, the blind date was going to go far better than either of them expected.
—
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yourusername: stop shouting.
yourfriendsusername: if he fumbles i'm fighting him
—
the restaurant wasn't particularly fancy.
it was warm, softly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where conversations blended into the gentle hum of music playing overhead. exactly the sort of place chosen because it wasn't intimidating—just somewhere two strangers could have dinner without feeling like they were being interviewed.
will arrived first.
he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, checked the time on his phone for what felt like the tenth time, then immediately regretted looking at it. He wasn't nervous, he told himself. he just... didn't know what to expect.
stephen's only instructions had been to look for the table under the window.
"she'll be there in a minute."
helpful.
a waiter led him over and will thanked him before sitting down, tapping his fingers against the edge of the menu.
a few minutes later, the restaurant door opened.
she stepped inside, quickly scanning the room before her eyes landed on the table by the window, then on him and her pace slowed.
"...will?"
he looked up.
for a second, they simply stared at one another.
"...oh."
she laughed first, the surprised sound filling the brief silence between them.
"oh, thank God" she said, letting out a relieved breath "you looked just as confused as i felt."
will stood, laughing as well "i wasn't expecting... you."
"neither was I."
she smiled, gesturing towards the empty chair "can I?"
"yeah, of course."
as soon as she sat down, the awkwardness they'd both been expecting somehow disappeared.
"i've got to ask" she said, setting her bag beside her chair "did you know it was me?"
"no."
"you swear?"
"i swear."
she narrowed her eyes playfully.
"i only knew i was meeting 'someone funny'" will admitted "that was literally all stephen gave me."
she groaned "my friend told me not to google you."
he laughed "probably for the best."
"so this really was blind."
"genuinely."
the waiter arrived to take their drinks order, giving them a moment to settle before disappearing again.
"so..." will leaned back slightly "were you forced into this too?"
she smiled into her menu.
"absolutely."
"i knew it."
"my friend has been trying to get me back into dating for months."
"the lads have been calling me chronically single."
she laughed.
"i think they actually used those exact words."
"they did."
by the time their drinks arrived, conversation had already begun flowing effortlessly.
They spoke about everything, content creation, embarrassing filming moments, travelling for work, the strange things people asked in Q&As and horror stories about awkward brand emails.
at one point will nearly snorted his drink because she perfectly imitated an influencer apology video "you've definitely practised that" he laughed.
"i absolutely have."
"i'm slightly concerned."
"you should be."
dinner arrived, but neither of them noticed how quickly the time passed, the plates gradually emptied while the conversation only grew easier.
there were no awkward silences, no moments spent desperately searching for another question and every topic somehow led naturally into the next.
"so..." she smiled "be honest."
"oh, dangerous."
"were you expecting this to be awful?"
will considered it for a moment.
"...yeah."
she laughed.
"i appreciate the honesty."
"i just hate first dates."
"so do I."
"but this doesn't really feel like one."
she tilted her head.
"no..."
"it kind of just feels like i've bumped into someone i already know."
she couldn't stop smiling "i was literally thinking the same thing."
—
when they eventually looked around the restaurant, they realised there were only a handful of tables still occupied. a waiter walked over apologetically "i'm so sorry we'll be closing in about ten minutes."
will glanced at his watch "...we've been here four hours?"
she blinked "you're joking."
apparently not.
outside, the evening air was cool enough to make her instinctively pull her jacket closer "i don't really want to go home yet" she admitted.
will looked down the quiet street "fancy a walk?"
she smiled "i'd like that."
the city felt completely different at night, streetlights reflected across the pavement from the rain earlier that day and neither of them seemed in any rush to reach a destination. instead, they wandered talking about childhood stories, family, career goals, music, films they'd watched far too many times.
at one point they passed a tiny independent bookshop that had already closed. she stopped to admire the display in the window. will noticed she was pointing out books she'd read while he found himself paying more attention to the way her face lit up than anything she was actually saying.
"so" she asked eventually "how's the blind date ranking now?"
He smiled "it might be the best decision Stephen's ever made."
"that's a bold statement."
"i'll never tell him that."
"good."
she nudged his shoulder lightly "don't let it go to his head."
eventually, her phone buzzed "my uber's two minutes away."
neither of them moved straight away. instead, they stood outside the pick-up point, both suddenly aware that the evening was ending.
"i've genuinely had a really nice time" she said softly.
"so have I."
there was a brief pause. not awkward. just... hopeful.
will rubbed the back of his neck before letting out a small laugh.
"i've forgotten how this part works."
she grinned "the goodbye?"
"yeah."
"i think..." she smiled, "one of us is supposed to ask if we'd like to do it again."
"right."
he met her eyes "i'd really like to see you again."
her smile widened almost instantly.
"i was hoping you'd say that."
"so..."
"so yes."
another laugh escaped both of them.
her car pulled up beside the pavement. she opened the door before looking back at him.
"text me when you get home?"
"i will."
"you'd better."
"i'll prove I'm capable."
she rolled her eyes fondly before climbing into the car.
as it pulled away, she looked back through the window, finding him still standing exactly where she'd left him.
he lifted a hand in a small wave.
she smiled all the way home.
for the first time in a long time, a blind date hadn't felt like meeting a stranger. it had felt like the beginning of something.
—
—
the first text came before either of them had even made it home.
will: made it back alive
she smiled the second her phone lit up.
you: good. i was starting to think you'd got lost.
will: i did.
will: took the wrong exit.
you: already making me question your sense of direction.
will: it was one wrong turn.
you: sure it was.
she couldn't help laughing as she unlocked her front door, the conversation continuing while she kicked off her shoes and headed upstairs.
it felt... easy.
neither of them had to think too hard about what to say. every message seemed to lead naturally into another until they both realised it was well past midnight.
—
the next morning, she woke up to another notification.
will: morning :)
she glanced at the time.
11:58 a.m.
she smiled to herself before replying.
you: morning?
you: it's basically lunchtime.
three minutes later...
will: morning to me.
you: lazy.
will: content creator.
you: same thing.
—
Days passed and somehow texting became part of their routine. she'd send him a picture of the coffee she'd picked up on the way to a meeting. he'd reply with a photo of whatever meal deal he'd grabbed from the nearest shop. he'd send voice notes complaining about editing. she'd respond with one laughing at him because he'd somehow managed to lose a file again.
the conversations drifted between completely ridiculous and surprisingly meaningful without either of them noticing.
one minute they were arguing over whether cereal counted as dinner.
the next they were talking about their families, childhood memories and what they wanted their lives to look like in ten years.
it was comfortable. comfortable in a way that surprised them both.
about a week after the date, she was halfway through editing when her phone buzzed.
will: question.
you: go on.
will: how are you alive before 9 am every day?
she laughed.
you: how are you asleep until midday every day?
will: talent.
you: concerning talent.
another message arrived just after six that evening.
you: have you eaten?
there was no reply.
five minutes.
ten.
fifteen.
finally...
will: ...
you: william.
will: i was about to.
you: you weren't.
will: i literally had the app open.
you: order food.
will: yes ma'am.
she smiled, shaking her head.
an hour later he sent her a photo of a takeaway bag sitting on his kitchen counter.
will: happy now?
you: very.
—
neither of them told anyone just how often they were talking.
when stephen asked what he'd been smiling at during editing, will shrugged it off.
"nothing."
stephen looked at him suspiciously.
"you've smiled at your phone about six times."
"i've seen a funny tiktok."
"you hate tiktok."
"...good tiktok."
stephen didn't believe him for a second.
her friends weren't much easier to fool "you've checked your phone every five minutes."
"i have not."
"you literally smiled at it."
"i was reading an email."
"brand deals don't make people grin like that."
she tried to hide her smile.
"it wasn't a brand deal."
"so it was him."
her silence answered the question for her.
by the second week, the messages had become almost constant.
good morning. good luck with filming. how did your meeting go? drive safe. don't forget to eat. goodnight. small things.
the sort of messages neither of them realised they had started relying on until one evening when will spent the entire day filming away from his phone.
she didn't think much of it until nearly nine o'clock. no memes. no random updates. no messages complaining about editing. nothing.
just as she was debating whether to text first, her phone buzzed.
will: sorry.
will: been filming literally all day.
before she could even type a reply, another message appeared.
will: missed talking to you.
she stared at the screen for a moment longer than she'd like to admit. a smile slowly spread across her face.
you: i missed talking to you too.
she watched as the little "typing..." bubble appeared almost immediately, then disappeared and then came back again.
eventually...
will: would you maybe want to do something this weekend?
her heart fluttered despite herself.
you: i thought you'd never ask.
she set her phone down on her bed, unable to stop smiling.
across the city, will did exactly the same thing, neither of them had called it a second date, neither of them had called whatever this was "dating."
but somewhere between late-night messages, coffee photos, voice notes and checking that the other had eaten, they'd quietly slipped into something that felt like the beginning of more and neither of them wanted it to end.
—
the soft launch
@ yourusername
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yourusername: rainy days 🤍
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user: WHO’S HAND IS THAT???
user: you cannot just drop this on a thursday night!!!
user: HELLO????
—
the hard launch
@ yourusername
liked by willne, yourfriendsusername and others
yourusername: turns out blind dates aren’t that bad @ willne
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wroetoshaw: about time
stephen_tries: finally i can stop lying
yourfriendsusername: I’VE BEEN WAITING MONTHS.
user: WE WON
user: already the best couple ever
© SVWZKIIO : do not copy, repost or modify any of my work.
i’m sorry but that video of will screeching about the pigeons making a nest in his flat is actually so himbo!will coded to me. like how can you be so stupid that you thought your ‘pigeon problem’ would be solved if you kept your velux window open all weekend whilst you’re away 😭😭
i can imagine him sending the video he eventually uses on his story to you first, or instead frantically calls you and is like, “we’ve got pigeons in the flat!!! they made a nest!!” all shocked and you’re just sick of his bullshit when you go on to question him and he’s like, “well i thought if i kept the window open all weekend they wouldn’t come flying in!! :(”
and then you’re stuck on facetime for about an hour with your clueless boyfriend screaming over pigeons coming into his office, rather than him shutting the window and disposing the nest
will lenney fanfic recs
🐇 - fluff
🦴 - smut
🐖 - angst
MDNI !!!
oneshots / blurbs
be quiet (1.1k) 🦴 - @l3nney
THE SPACE BETWEEN US
CHAPTER TWO
a/n: welcome to chapter two! it's time to meet the kids!
(also shoutout to my friend for telling me a designer jewellery brand on the fly because i don't know shit about designer stuff oopsie. and chef janie is inspired by the lovely @/earthyjane on tiktok bc i love her)
wc: 3.7k
warnings: none
The first thing you noticed as soon as you opened your eyes was that there was noise.
Real, palpable noise. None of the careful silence you’d heard yesterday when you’d arrived at the house - this was the noise of actual people. You could distantly hear slow footsteps as they shuffled back and forth, the clattering of pots and pans, the whir of a coffee machine. For the first time since you’d gotten here, it sounded like people actually lived in the house.
Eager to bask in it while you had the chance, you quickly got out of bed and made your way over to the wardrobe, dragging a brush through your hair as you did so. You selected what you hoped was a comfortable yet appropriately professional outfit - black slacks, a white blouse, and a pair of shoes that were somehow exactly your size. Deciding not to dwell on it, you slipped into them before opening your bedroom door.
You followed the sound of the noise down the corridors, taking note of what rooms you already knew. Anne’s office on the left, two doors down from the beginning of the hallway. The other study, the opposite side, three doors down from the end. That study. You swallowed thickly as you sped past it, shaking your head to dispel the memory of warm blue eyes and an amused, crooked smile that threatened to make itself known.
The hallway came to an abrupt stop a few paces later, where it suddenly exploded out into a huge open plan kitchen. To the left side, there was a sunken conversation pit that reminded you vaguely of the houses eighties rockstars usually had. A few couches lined the pit - white leather stuffed to the brim surrounding a shimmering glass coffee table. On the wall, a television similar to the one in your bedroom, mounted on the wall just above a fireplace that looked like something straight out of a fairytale. Your gaze tracked over the rest of the room, taking in the large glass windows that made up one of the four walls, over to the modest dining table.
You paid more attention to this - this was the first indication of the children that you’d seen in the whole house. Two normal dining chairs, polished dark wood placed at the perfect angle, then two smaller chairs, and a high chair. The high chair was a rich, dark blue, the tray table polished to a mirror shine. The child to whom it belonged couldn’t be more than three years old. You filed this away, adding it to your ever-increasing folder of knowledge about your employers. Any indication of the other two children’s ages was absent, the solid wood yielding nothing that would aid you.
Looking around some more, you finally found the source of the noise.
A woman, who honestly couldn’t have been much older than you, head bent as she carefully watched over a hob that boasted several sizzling pans. You crept closer, intrigued. A quiet, melodic hum reached your ears as you slid into one of the barstools framing the kitchen island, and you smiled, letting out a small laugh.
At the sound, she lifted her head, face immediately breaking into a dazzling smile.
‘Hi! You must be the nanny. I heard you arrived yesterday. I wanted to catch you before you arrived just to say hi, but Will let me go early last night because he and the family went out for dinner, so I didn’t get to. I’m Janie, by the way, it’s so good to meet you!’ She said in a rush, bustling around the corner to reach you, opening her arms to draw you into a hug. You blinked, arms slowly coming up to wrap around the other woman slowly as you offered your own name in return.
She continued to chatter as she returned to stand in front of the hob, reaching for a spatula and poking and prodding at the numerous pans with an ease that told you she’d been here for a while. She didn’t even seem to register the food, which you could now see was a vast array of breakfast foods - eggs, bacon, sausages, hashbrowns, tomatoes, mushrooms, even pancakes, which you assumed would be for the children.
‘I’m the chef for the family, in case you hadn’t already guessed. That means I’ll basically be here all the time unless they’re getting food delivered or going out. This isn’t an everyday breakfast - normally it’s a bit less ... .grand, but Will wanted me to make a good first impression on you, so he said to go for the big one. The pancakes are for the kids, a special treat, you know how it is. If you have a minute later I’ll show you how to do the kids’ breakfasts.’ She told you, all the while flipping and turning and seasoning and slicing at a speed that had you feeling dizzy as you watched her.
‘You don’t do the kids breakfast?’ You couldn’t help but interject. You already liked her, but you got the distinct impression that if you didn’t interrupt on occasion, you’d never get a chance to speak. Janie shook her head, taking a second to unstick an egg from the pan before replying.
‘No, not all the time. I’m usually just here to prep stuff for the adults. Like, right now is a one off. Normally I wouldn’t even be here this early. On a normal day, I’d come in to do meal prep for the Mr and Mrs, just things like overnight oats, protein meals mostly. That’s their breakfast, because you know how it is, these people are so busy they’d forget to eat all day if it wasn’t already there. Then, I’ll make things for dinner. Sometimes I’ll cook it and serve it, but again, lots of it is meal prep. Things that can be easily frozen like pasta and other meat dishes are a go to. So, anyway, no, I don’t do the kids breakfasts. But it’s not difficult. I’ll show you later.’
You nodded along slowly, some of the earlier confusion you’d felt about your role dissolving as Janie talked. In your head, you started to make a mental list of what this job entailed.
‘You’re just lucky their mum’s not got them following some nutrition plan this time. Last month, I’m sure you probably heard through your friend, but she had the whole family on this frankly ridiculous diet, if you can even call it that. Those poor kids were eating grapefruit for breakfast, if you can believe it!’ Her outraged tone made you laugh. Her joy and personality was infectious, you couldn’t help but feel happy in her presence. You hoped she’d stick around - it would be nice to have someone in your corner in this place.
‘Oh, you can grab a coffee, if you want. I’m not sure what you want to eat, but I’m sure you can find something in here that you like, I hope?’ She added, gesturing vaguely with the spatula towards the coffee machine. You followed her gaze, mouth dropping open slightly as you looked at it.
The thing probably cost more than your first car - it was branded (of course), the company logo emblazoned across the front just above the presses and pumps that made it look like it belonged in a coffee house rather than in someone’s kitchen. It even had settings for different flavours, intensities and temperatures. Your hands shook slightly as you placed a mug beneath it, pressing a random button and hoping for the best. You and that coffee machine would definitely have to get better acquainted over your time here.
Just as you were lifting the mug to your lips to take a sip, a whirlwind of noise caused your head to snap towards the entrance to the kitchen. You looked over just in time to see two sets of feet come running into the kitchen - one distinctly belonging to a small child, and the other obviously to their father.
The child shrieked with joy, running faster, little feet slapping on the linoleum floor as he made a break for freedom. Janie looked up in alarm, but her face softened once she realised what was going on. She stepped away from the hob for a moment, timing herself perfectly to block the fleeing child’s path. She stooped and scooped them up in one movement, lifting the child above her head as they squealed.
‘Hey, you! What are you doing running away from your dad, then? And oh my goodness, where are your clothes?’ Janie exclaimed. It was then you realised, the blurry shape of the child taking form to show that the child was not only a boy, but a boy dressed only in a nappy and one sock. You couldn’t help but laugh, especially as the father approached with an exasperated sigh, breathing heavily. After steeling yourself, you allowed yourself to look up.
His gaze met you halfway.
That same smile tugged at his lips. The same one he’d flashed you hours ago, when it had felt like a secret to see it.
Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile back.
You held his gaze for probably a beat longer than necessary, before you tore yourself away to stare at the coffee you’d yet to taste. He straightened, focusing back on his wriggling son. He held his hands out to Janie, who passed the boy back like he weighed nothing, and then they were gone as quick as they were there, only the sound of the boy’s giggles being left behind.
‘Does that….happen often?’ You asked tentatively. Janie just shrugged, laughing to herself.
‘Not always. He’s just got a lot of energy, that boy. You’ll learn that in time.’ She said.
Right. Helpful. Thanks Janie.
The kitchen fell quiet again, save for the small clattering sounds of Janie plating the food. You helped as best you could, watching her carefully in an attempt to learn the layout of this inordinately large kitchen. Every sleek brown cupboard looked the same.
You carried the plate of pancakes to the table, setting it near the two smaller chairs and the high chair. Janie nodded approvingly, placing the last platter of bacon onto the table before turning to the coffee machine. Watching as she pressed the buttons with expert speed, you slid back into your barstool. When she turned around holding a mug in each hand - one iced, one hot, you realised - she furrowed her brows at you.
‘What’re you doing, sitting all the way over there? Grab a chair from the back and put it at the table. You’ll eat with them, you know. You’re not a servant, for God’s sake.’ She said, jerking her head. You scrambled to obey, locating a chair and hurriedly placing it at the table - at the kids side for safe measure, relaxing a little when Janie nodded at you.
‘Right, I’m off. I’ll be back around lunchtime to prep dinner. Good luck!’ She said, swooping down to give you a quick hug, the contact punching a small breath out of you as she held you tight. You hugged her back, waving her off as she walked out of the kitchen, humming as she did so. And once again, you were left alone in the Lenney house.
Though, your peace was shortlived, because you soon heard the telltale shuffle of feet just outside the kitchen. And whispers, when you strained your ears.
‘Just like we practiced, remember? Be polite. Right, in you go.’
You stood up from your seat, rounding the table to come and stand in front of it. Just in time as well, for just as you settled into a carefully neutral stance, the children entered.
Three of them, stood in a line in decreasing height order. The youngest, the boy from earlier, clutched the hand of his sister as he carefully waddled in next to his siblings. And behind them, mother and father. Mr and Mrs Lenney. You took a deep breath.
The first child stepped forward. This, you assumed, was the eldest. She had an air of elegance that took your breath away - her hair neatly braided down her back, headband perfectly in place, dress ironed and hanging just right as she folded her hands in front of her. Her eyes were the same blue as her fathers, framed by a light dusting of freckles just beneath them.
‘I’m Isabella. You can call me Isabella. I’m eleven. I don’t like nicknames. I don’t need a nanny.’ She said, voice clipped and decisive as she stepped back in line. Behind her, you saw her father deflate a little, rolling his eyes. You smiled.
‘Hi Isabella. Well, you seem very grown up. I’m sure we can find something in common, right?’ You said, nodding your head in greeting. Isabella didn’t respond.
Fine, a work in progress, then.
The second child stepped forward. Another girl, this one slightly less polished than her sister. Her bright yellow shirt was coming untucked from her shorts, and you could see a scattering of bruises of all shapes and colours over her legs. She had a cheeky smile on her face, framed by a pair of glittering diamond earrings.
‘I’m Bea. I’m seven and a half. Do you have a boyfriend?’
‘Beatrice!’ Her father reprimanded, reaching out to grab her shoulder and tugging her back into line as she exploded in a fit of giggles. He shot you an apologetic look, which you immediately waved off.
‘Hi Bea, it’s lovely to meet you. And no, I don’t have a boyfriend.’ You said, laughing softly. The room seemed to relax at your response, and Bea’s father seemed to sag in relief at the revelation that you did in fact have a sense of humour.
‘And you, I remember you. At least you’ve got clothes on now, hey?’ You said, lowering yourself to crouch in front of the youngest. He whined softly, gripping onto his sister’s hand as he hid his face behind her leg.
‘This is Olly. He’s a bit shy sometimes.’ Bea supplied. You nodded, reaching out to gently grip Olly’s hand in your own and shake it. The motion forced a small giggle out of him.
‘Hello, Olly. I’m gonna look after you, and we’re gonna be really good friends, yeah?’ You said. Olly hesitated, looking up at Bea. She shrugged.
‘Okay.’
‘Don’t worry, he’ll warm up to you in time, won’t you? I’m William, or Will, if you like.’
You straightened instinctively at the sound of his voice, readjusting yourself to normal adult height as you reached out to shake his outstretched hand. Will’s grin was almost blinding as he looked at you, all your breath leaving your lungs as you locked eyes with him for the third time.
This time, as your gaze locked, time seemed to stop. You found your eyes wandering, tracing over his sharp jawline, over the slight stubble you could see that made your mouth go dry, up to those piercing blue eyes you couldn’t stop thinking about, and finally to his hair - it was styled neater than it had been when you’d seen it before, but the fluffy ends that poked over his shirt collar still stuck up in every direction, curling slightly from the heat and humidity.
The white shirt he was wearing was the same - the sleeves rolled up again to expose forearms that you were not looking at. Gone was the rumpled vulnerability you’d seen, replaced by the polished image that everyone knew.
He cleared his throat, and you blinked back to reality, cheeks heating as you realised you’d probably been staring. However, he hadn’t yet let go of your hand.
You dropped it like a hot stone, locking your fingers together in front of you to stop you from reaching out and doing something stupid as Will’s hand retreated back to his side.
‘Uh- this is- my wife, Victoria.’
You followed his gesture to the woman standing at his shoulder, and something akin to cold dread began to seep through you.
The woman beside him was nothing short of ethereal.
She was the spitting image of Isabella (or rather, the reverse was true, you figured). Same perfectly styled hair, hers curled gently over her shoulders in waves so delicate you thought you’d break them if you so much as breathed on them. Her clothes were styled so sharply it made your eyes water - a crisp blue blouse, a black pencil skirt, and heels so high it made your feet hurt just looking at them. Her nails were immaculately made up, a glossy cherry red, the dark colour framing the frankly ludicrous diamond that adorned her left hand.
The thing just about had its own gravitational pull - you couldn't help the little breath that escaped you as you caught sight of it, the reality of just who you were sharing a space with hitting you with full force. That diamond alone probably cost more than your entire life's worth of rent for your flat, not to mention the immaculate silver band that you assumed must be platinum to support a rock like that. You wondered if it ever weighed her down.
Suddenly remembering yourself, you reached out to take her hand. Victoria didn't move, hands staying resolutely clasped around Will's elbow, diamond poking out from between her interlocked fingers.
‘Darling, she-’
‘I can see, William. Hello.’ She said, each word clipped and landing like a bullet as she turned her head slightly to address you. Your hand fell uselessly to your side, bunching the fabric of your trousers in an attempt to stop yourself from fidgeting.
‘Hi.’
You sounded positively childlike in comparison to Victoria's cool cadence.
‘I am placing my trust in you to look after my children. If I find out that you have even once neglected your duties, I will not hesitate to terminate you and make sure you are never employed again. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Vic, please, she just got here.’ Will chimed in now, placing his free hand over where his wife's were now gripping his upper arm. You caught the soft movement of his thumb over her knuckles, something cold and ugly blooming in your stomach.
‘Give the poor girl a chance, hm? I'm sure she's not completely useless. Besides, Janie already said she liked her, and you trust her, don't you?’ Will spoke directly to his wife here, bending his head slightly to talk in her ear, though you still heard every word. Your brows twitched together at the slight insult, but decided to keep your mouth shut for now.
The slight lilt in his tone that you could hear was currently doing unforgivable things to your psyche, and you had to force yourself to look away from those godforsaken forearms and hands as he hooked a knuckle under Victoria's chin, tilting her head up to look at him as he reassured her. For a second, you saw a chip in the ice. A small nod. Acquiescence, not obedience.
In front of you, the children still stood in their line, though Bea had now decided to busy herself with inspecting your jewellery. Most of what you were wearing were various gifts or purchases you made to treat yourself. The little girl's face was pinched in confusion.
‘What’s up, Bea?’ You asked, dragging your eyes away from the adults in front of you.
‘Where’s your van Cleef? My mum says everyone gets one when they turn five because they're not a little baby anymore.’ She said, offering her own wrist as a way of explanation. Sure enough, there it was. Silver chains, and their signature four leaf design. The bead was the same yellow as her dress. Your mouth dropped open slightly as you looked at it - these were something you'd only ever dream of buying, and here it was on a seven year old’s wrist.
‘I-um, I don't have one. My mum must have missed that reminder.’ You stammered out. You hadn't been expecting this. They were rich, sure, but you'd not realised just quite how rich they were. Will cleared his throat.
Bea just shrugged, dropping your wrist and returning to stand next to Isabella, who was fabulously modelling the look of ‘would rather be anywhere but here.’
‘Huh. Maybe you should ask your mum for one. Maybe two because she forgot the first one.’ She suggested. You just nodded, mind reeling. Will just shook his head fondly at his daughter, reaching out to ruffle her hair.
‘I’m sure she will, love. Right then, you lot. Go eat. Bells, take Olly over, would you?’ Will said, making a shooing gesture with his hands. Isabella rolled her eyes, but didn't protest, scooping her brother up and carrying him over to the table with one last look over her shoulder at you.
‘Don’t mind Bells. She doesn't warm quickly.’ Will said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, the gesture making him appear almost human.
‘I think she's an excellent judge of character.'
‘She’s eleven, Vic. She doesn't know character from charisma.’
You watched as they spoke, words flying back and forth as you stood awkwardly in front of them.
‘Um-’
At the sound of your voice, both parents whipped their heads towards you. Will's surprised eyes softened as they took in your hesitancy.
‘Sorry, bit of a domestic. Um- yeah. I think that's everything. Janie’ll be in touch about meals and that, and I'll be in touch about your pay.’
It took you a second to catch the unspoken dismissal. Victoria didn't comment, just raised an eyebrow when you continued to dither.
‘Oh, sorry- I'll-’
You stepped around them as you hurried away. You walked over to the table, where you slid in next to Isabella. Who, to her credit, was doing a very good job of pretending she wasn't slowly moving her chair away from yours.
‘Hi, new nanny. I want a pancake with blueberries and maple syrup. Oh, and could you cut it into squares? And Olly says he wants some bacon.' Bea said, pushing her plate over to you and dictating with the practice and cadence of an aged politician giving a speech.
You did as she said, reaching and dishing up her food, all too aware of the dual set of eyes all but boring a hole through you. She chattered on as she did so, but all of it fell on deaf ears as you realised that this was it. This was your life now.
No turning back.
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is step dad stuff acceptable or does that cross the line a little? 😰