... ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ SPOILED ROTTEN﹕pc !grant reilly ⅋fem reader ᵋ 💭 grant isn’t acting himself after seeing u w ur bf.. ᵌ
suggestive filth. ❥ age gappie. ’s a longer one, i got carried away in these two.. sweet nicknames. slight perverted !grant. he’s unashamedly down bad for u. ❥ whiny !grant. ❥ doesn’t care he’s older.. he likes it. nd so do you ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
grant tossed the spatula onto the marble island, wiping his hands on his waist apron, sporting a narrow brow and stern cheekbones. your own face morphed into a frown upon taking him in. “well i don’t know if you’ve seen beauty and the beast.. but those things have feelings,” you joked, setting your shopping bags down on the counter.
grant scoffed under his breath, “course i have.. movie’s older than you.” he eyed the bags, pushing down his overwhelming want for you to open each one and hold up what you got from the boutiques. and that’s exactly what you went to do after responding, “oh, i thought it recently came out..? well, do you wanna see what i gott,” you dragged the letter out, all giddy, thinking the answer would be yes.
because it always is. this was your guys’ thing. you and the personal chef your dad hired became close quickly after only a couple of weeks. funnily enough, you bonded over how different you are. opposite interests. lack of knowledge on what the other knew everything about. he started to become your favorite person. and you had no clue of the pedestal grant had you on. even just as his boss’ daughter, you had so much power over him.
and he sometimes showed it when you two interacted. he’d do anything for you. cook anything at any time, no matter how silly of a request. watched on intently as you showed him your recent purchases. focused diligently when you pattered up to him, holding up two tops, asking which you should wear out. whatever you want, grant wants to be the one to give it.
but you’d never give him what he truly wants deep down. the role he’d be honored to take over that currently belonged to a pompous know it all college boy. you two were dating when grant was hired, but he doesn’t think you’ve been together too long. not long enough to defuse you from being swayed..
his head caught up with your last words, shaking himself from his thoughts and your youthful response, “not the live action, pie.. i’m a little busy with this meal for your father’s meeting, where you going to show me those? because i don’t have the time.”
you didn’t recognize the tone. the straightforwardness. the pie instead of your usual sweetie pie pet name. your hands drooped from the handles of the first bag, tilting your head at him, “really? you’re never usually too busy for me..”
grant shook his head, turning to check on the boiling sauce, fiddling at it with a flimsy spatula. “people get really busy sometimes.. just like you were this morning. all in that guys’ face, couldn’t hear me ask what you wanted for breakfast..” grant let himself grumble out, placing the lid back onto the pan.
your lips twisted to the side on a pout, furrowing your brows to remember what he was referring to. “oh..! him? i wasn’t.. that close to him, we were just..”
grant stopped you short, needing to get his thoughts out before he lost the composure to, “close enough you couldn’t pay attention to the guy just trying to feed you. did he at least get you something to eat when you two left? or did he, but made you pay for the meal just like he let you buy those clothes on your own?”
your pout deepened, getting close to the island to rest your folded arms onto it, leaning in as grant turned back to you after checking on a few other pots and pans, crossing his own arms.
“did you pee in your own cereal this morning? i have the money, he doesn’t have to pay.. why’re you asking these questions? did my dad annoy you or something, because you don’t really have to take it out on me, i can just go to my room and leave you alone..”
“it doesn’t matter if you have it. ’s about being a gentleman,” grant scolded, scratching at the curls at the nape of his neck, sniffing.
you approached the question hesitantly, “..are you.. talking bad about him right now? grant, this isn’t like you..”
“you were my sweet girl first,” he dropped his arms to his sides, letting himself knuckle grip the counter behind him, pushing his body out a bit.
you stilled, eyes turning sad. heart turning sad. “i still am.. nothing changed? was it.. the breakfast thing? i’m sorry i didn’t answer you, i didn’t know..”
“you usually sit with me while you’re eating your breakfast and tell me your plans for the day. i had no clue what you were out there doing, i damn near almost asked your dad but remembered that’s considered inappropriate.”
you slid around the island, coming to stand in front of him. he could barely hold eye contact. looked a little.. flustered. nervous. you’d never see him like this before.. you rested a hand on his flexed bicep, wide eyes staring up at him, “i’m sorry, grant. i honestly would’ve thought you find that all annoying.. chatting your ear off while you’re trying to work,” you let out a soft giggle.
grant shook his head once, eyes focused on your manicured hand that rested so small on his bigger arm, “never. i like hearing all about it. wanna be that person you go to.. just wanna take care of you. be the man that does that for you.”
you let your other hand rise to his opposite arm, gently gripping at the muscles, tiny smile dotting your face, “really? you are that man for me, grant.. you always cook me yummy meals..”
he was shaking his head before you finished, “not just like that. i’ll cook whatever you want, but i’d love more than that.. if you.. sat on my lap while you relayed your plans to me. let me fiddle with the little bow straps on your mini skirt while you talk.. and i promise i’d wash my hands before, i don’t wanna dirty your pretty clothes..”
your breath hitched as you ran your hands further up his arms, resting them on his neck. “yeah? you like my skirts?” you asked softly so as to not startle him. this grown man. who seemed so nervous to tell you his feelings. you. the college girl with the loaded dad who doesn’t have time to cook for himself. too busy making the money you spend everyday.
“mhm.. like ’em on you. make you look so sweet, sugar. ever since your old man hired me, i couldn’t stop thinking about his precious little girl. with the cutest personality ’nd motor mouth telling me about her favorite things..”
you gasped with no sound, nudging him on the arm, “you said you liked that..!”
grant chuckled, nodding, “i do, i do.. i like you. am i.. is this too much..? i jus.. you bring out this caretaker side of me. suppose ’s why i got into personal cheffing. wanna take care of someone.. and then you came along, sweet one. gave this old man the urge to serve a pretty young thing..”
your raised eyebrow asked the nonverbal question. grant slowly shook his head, “’m not talking about the food. i wanna help you into your little shirts.. gives me an excuse to touch you.. learn your pretty parts. which ones are achy, which ones you need me to soothe.. i think i’m desperate for it.”
your tummy fluttered at his provocative words. you truly didn’t notice..
your fingers found their way to the spot of hair grant was scratching at earlier, running your fingers through it. “that’s so sweet.. sorry, is it okay i’m touching you?”
“yes,” his response was breathy like he was holding his breath, waiting for permission to say something about it.
he rested his hands on your hips, tugging you softly into him, roaming his fingers to the little straps of your skirt. his face scrunched into a look of frustration, “that.. that boyfriend of yours.. i don’t get it. ’m older. i know more. i cook for you, listen to you, not him. i have more experience. does he touch you like this?” grant leaned down to your mouth, his little needy puffs of breath touching your lips, “you have to say something before i keep going, sweetie pie. i can’t be professional grant right now. not with you.”
you nodded softly, pouting up at him. he was mush in your hands. willingly. and you weren’t expecting it. sure, you found the older man attractive. had thoughts.. but you didn’t expect this. didn’t expect to like hearing him talk about you this much..
“keep going,” you encouraged on a whisper, staring into his puppy eyes. gosh, he was gone for you..
his eyes turned stern, eyebrows flexing, body tensing with want. “i like that i’m a father figure to you. that i’m old enough to actually be.. but dads can’t think the way i do.. i dream about fucking you over the island. going slow, gentle with you. because my sweet girl deserves nothing but gentle. i think about us sneaking into your room and letting you do whatever you want with me.. show me what you need. getting to my knees and seeing if you taste just as sweet as i imagine. making you leave the skirt on.. only the skirt while you ride me. take from me all you want. i was yours before i shook your dad’s hand to seal the deal.”
your fingers stilled, your head all buzzy. you didn’t know grant was so.. dirty mouthed. this clean, pristine chef.. getting all dirty with you. you wanted.. you wanted that. badly. you didn’t know how much you’ve been craving that. that grant was right here..
you teetered on your feet, thighs rubbing, “grant, what if one of my.. parts are achy right now? what do i do?” you panicked. your boyfriend never made you feel like this. grant was right. all you needed was your father figure..
his eyes softened, one hand sliding to the front of your skirt, only skidding along the outskirts. “is it here? you have to tell me, peach.”
you nodded on a stutter, eyes suddenly scared and welling, “my dad’ll be back soon with his business men.. we can’t..”
“sweetheart, i’d fuck this ache out of you in front of your dad right before he fired me if it was the only chance i had with you.. do you wanna go up to your room for a second while i finish up here? i’ll be right there after i serve everything ’nd clean up.. can you do that for me?”
you bit your lip, softly nodding, “yes, chef..”
