#not to get serious about it but I do worry about the “taking every statement as face value unadorned truth” as a grim symptom of like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

criminalamnesia · 1 year ago

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ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!

I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.

this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)

[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]

part one here, part two here, ending 1 here

your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.

you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.

you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.

you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.

fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.

you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.

you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.

you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.

“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.

“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.

“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”

he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.

but your guard is up. you don’t know him.

“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.

“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.

“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.

but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.

it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.

but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.

“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.

“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.

his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.

“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.

that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.

you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.

“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.

as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.

“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”

he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”

you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.

you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.

next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.

you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.

but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.

he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.

“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.

“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.

“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.

“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.

“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”

“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“nah, I don’t think so.”

your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.

“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.

“friend emergency.”

he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”

he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y��know? especially since yours is so pretty.”

“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.

“guilty.”

you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.

‘friend okay?’ he types.

‘all good.’ you respond.

he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.

‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’

you smile as you read the message.

‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.

a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.

he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.

you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.

but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.

“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”

your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.

simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.

your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.

you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.

it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.

the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.

when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.

you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.

the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.

the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.

you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.

a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.

you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.

he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.

“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.

when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.

you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.

the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.

the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.

he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.

“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.

“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”

your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”

he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.

“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”

you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”

you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.

“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”

“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.

“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”

you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.

that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.

the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.

and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.

a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.

someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.

he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.

instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.

——————————————————————

author’s note:

ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.

how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?

I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.

anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

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hardlyinteresting · 6 months ago

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love's never lost when perspective is earned

Jake Seresin x Reader

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.” Peter Pan, J.M Barrie

Peter by Taylor Swift S P E Y S I D E by Bon Iver Big Black Car by Gregory Alan Isakov Smother by Daughter

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, Parentification of eldest siblings, bad first date experience, gets a little spicy towards the end (no smut), (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please)

This one shot was written for @arcane-vagabond Fairy Tale writing challenge with the inspiration of Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie, and the use of the word Scintilla.

Word Count: 6.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

She remembers that summer wrapped in a golden glow. Back when hot, humid days were spent bathed in the sun’s vivid orange. Their fingers were sticky with jammy pie fillings, stolen from his mama’s kitchen. Cold water from the garden hose always tasted better after a day of chasing themselves around the properties.

What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jake had asked her as they lay in the grass behind his house.

“I haven't decided yet,” she told him matter of factly, “But, I’m gonna have a nice house, and I’m going to go far away from here”.

“I'm gonna be a pilot,” Jake said, “And I’ll fly wherever I want”.

She knew he was entirely serious, even as a little boy he’d never failed to accomplish what he put his mind to. The gentle waiver is his voice as his statement teetered around the edges of his true feelings and fears. “I wish I could fly away,” She told him, watching the clouds shift across the bright blue sky above them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me,” Jake promised. And back then, a promise had felt like enough.

They were seven; her shins were always bruised from climbing trees and tackling the Seresin boy during their daily football scrambles; his cheeks were always sunburnt, and he lied every time his mother asked if he had put sunscreen on. In many ways, she thinks those two months running after Jake Seresin had been both the peak and the plateau of her childhood wonder.

September meant returning to school; finishing supper and homework before being allowed out to play, and with the autumnal turn crept in early sunsets and earlier curfews. In November, her stepdad moved in, and her mother told her to expect a little brother in the spring. The days of scraped knees and make-believe slipped away before the winter frost set in.

When he thinks about her now, he pictures her laughing like she did when they were ten years old. He misses the days when she had the freedom to forget herself.

At ten years old Jake Seresin couldn’t understand why his friend wasn’t as fun as she used to be. He watched from his kitchen window as she sat on the front porch with her little brother, settling next to her and feeding him from tiny jars of baby food. At a distance, it'd be easy to mistake her for any other girl playing make-believe with one of her dolls. But Jackson wasn't a doll, he was fussy and gassy, and he needed to be fed and put down for his naps before she had a moment of spare time to spend with her pal Jake.

Her little brother had been followed by a new baby girl two years later. Tire marks on the dirt driveway highlighted where her stepfather’s truck should have been most days. Jackson had finally gone down for a nap but Olivia had been teething and her wailing could be heard from a mile away.

“What do you want to do today?” Jake asked her as he made his way up her porch steps to sit next to her on the stoop. “I want to fly away,” she told him.

Without a second thought, he grabbed her hand as he took off running, down the stairs, across the lawn and into the field behind the house. The long grass tickled at their ribs as they ran as fast as possible, their arms outstretched on either side of them.

Circling, and jumping, hooting and hollering they made their way across the flat land with boisterous laughter bubbling from their lips. By the time they stumbled to a stop at the fence line their breath came to them in quiet gasps, their cheeks warmed by the exertion of their activity.

The sound of his pulse fell in time with her carefree giggles as she twirled around mimicking some kind of bird. Had it not been for the physical boundary of the wire fence he thinks they could have kept running forever, the promise of freedom they didn’t yet understand beneath their wings. In that moment he knew he’d chase that feeling for the rest of his life.

At sixteen she felt more like a substitute parent than she did a teenage girl. Her mind and her soul had aged beyond her years and stayed wrapped in a youthful vessel. School had become an escape from the responsibility she felt at home. While Olivia and Jackson clambered onto the school bus excited for first and second grade, she climbed into the passenger seat of Jake Seresin’s restored F-150. Each morning he'd pass her a wrapped sandwich made in his kitchen with his mother's fresh-baked bread. A replacement for the meal he knew she sacrificed to divide the last of the breakfast cereal between her siblings. He filled her with servings of farm butter and homemade jam, or ham and cheese. Their silent dialogue in brushing their knuckles during the exchange, as he always chose to ignore how she saved half for her lunch later in the day.

Pulling into the parking lot at school she had been keenly aware of the way the other girls looked at her as she walked hand in hand with Jake; the glares shot her way when he kissed her cheek as they parted ways to head to their classes.

Their jealousy rolled off them in waves, and she heard how they spoke about her in the locker room after gym class. Whispers about his gorgeous green eyes and boyish charm. What could the hottest guy in school possibly want from the strange girl in her secondhand clothes and studious persona? Surely he'd have more fun with a girl who wanted to party.

It was true. In the span of one summer, he'd grown 6 inches, towering over her now. His shoulders broadened. The lanky awkward limbed boy she'd known in her childhood grew stronger and more defined as he learned better how to pull his weight on his family’s farm. His masculine stature and maturity softened only by his flushed cheeks, and childlike grin.

And yes, he snuck beers from his father’s garage fridge and did handstands for ovations at parties hosted by the school football team. An absolute joy to be around. To know Jake Seresin was to love Jake Seresin, but didn't know him the way she did.

They didn't know he was terrified of thunderstorms until he was 12. They weren't there when he split his pants open trying to climb over a fence when they were 9. They had never had the privilege of listening to him read aloud from all his books about aircraft; his 11-year-old fingers tracing the letters as he sounded out the big words, the fear of being held back in 5th grade hanging over his head.

They had never held him as he tore into himself. The golden boy, raised in the shadow of an older brother who hadn’t lived long enough for him to remember; so deeply loved, but not enough to fill the ache in his parent’s hearts.

No one in those school halls would ever be able to tell the difference between his happiest days, and the smirk he plastered on always aiming to be better than what he believed himself to be.

He was so stubborn and far more clever than he ever let himself sound; she scolded him almost daily as he tried to shrug off his homework. “You'll need math and science if you ever want to fly a jet,” she would remind him, accepting the glass of sweet tea he offered her. Their textbooks and notes would lay spread across his kitchen table while Jackson and Olivia occupied themselves with blank paper and wax crayons, offering Jake scribbled drawings of airplanes, “wow! That's amazing, thank you,” he'd say every time.

She hadn't asked Jake to worm his way into her soul, and yet even now she knows some part of her soul belongs deeply to him. Their games of tag had slowly become time spent talking about their parents and watching the clouds; their hands intertwined between them as they listened to each other's dreams and desires for the future.

And on the nights when his life just didn’t seem to fit quite right, he’d tap on her window, willing her to join him in the bed of his truck a couple of miles from their homes; and she’d remind him who he was. The bright boy with a heart of gold, and a laugh that reminded her of everything good in the world. She’d rest her head on his chest, his fingertips tracing aimless shapes across her back, as she convinced him he was more than a collection of hand-me-down dreams.

His eighteenth birthday crept up to him before passing in a blur of candlelight and buttercream icing. His mother cried in the kitchen when she excused herself to ‘take care of the dishes’. His father clapped him on the shoulder. Their two sets of hazel-green eyes met as the older man offered a nod. The action itself did not speak to a relationship of closeness or specific affection, but still, it managed to convey a message of approval, apology, and love too difficult to speak.

She had knocked on the door shortly after dinner had been cleared from the table, the remaining half of his birthday cake being ushered into the refrigerator under a cling wrap film. Shivering in the night air, her hands clutched a package of brown paper with a shiny blue ribbon, his name scribbled in her careful writing. Quickly, he’d pulled her into the house greeting her with a kiss as deeply passionate as she deserved. “Happy birthday,” she’d whispered, pressing the gift she’d brought into his hands. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he’d told her. “I wanted to,” she insisted. With steady hands, he unwrapped the box. His question was silent, but the shocked expression on his face must’ve conveyed enough for her to be able to answer him anyway. “It’s the one from the antique store,” she grinned, “Mister Abbot let me pay for it in instalments”. He tipped the brass nautical compass into the palm of his hand, staid in his evaluation of both the physical and emotional weight of the gift. “This is too much,” he spoke after a moment.

Her eyes went wide, her smile dropping. “I love it,” he was immediate in his attempt at reassurance, “but, you’re saving for school. I don’t want you spending your money on me, darlin’”. He tried to pass the compass back to her, a woebegone ponderosity settling in his stomach at the very idea of rejecting any part of her. Insistent, yet patient, she curled her finger over his. The digits were so much smaller than his own, cracked and raw from washing dishes and cleaning tables at the local diner. The painful reminder of how hard she’d been working to climb her way out of her own life. “I want you to keep it. Selfishly,” she said, “I want you to always be able to find your way back to me”. How could he have argued with that?

Politely, she’d popped into the kitchen to see his mama, accepting a Tupperware of cake slices to take home for the kids to enjoy. His father met them at the door as Jake shrugged on his denim jacket. “Where are you kids off to?” he asked out of curiosity more than any concern. “Just going for a drive,” Jake told him, slipping his keys into his pocket. “Don’t let him get you into any trouble, ya hear?” he warned her with a teasing grin, the humour evident in his voice. “Yes sir,” she had agreed easily, knowing Mr Seresin’s penchant for faux sternness in the moments between his genuine stoicism. Seemly satisfied to see her smile grow, he had turned to Jake with an immediate pivot back to his natural sternness, “You make sure you get her home at a reasonable time. It’s a school night”. Jake’s compliance echoed her own, with no room for jest, “Yes sir”.

Parked in their usual spot, at the edge of a cleared field he wrapped layers of blankets around her shoulders, before settling down next to her. Their biggest dreams breathed between them and the night stars. “I love you,” he said. The statement was resolute, and immovable in its honesty. “I love you too, Jake,” she told him. Her words were spoken like a promise she desperately wanted to keep.

“When we graduate, I'll drive us across the country,” he tells her, “I'll buy us a house. You can go to school and I'll fly”.

“It’s a nice dream, baby,” she says.

Their drive home is silent.

She spent her nineteenth birthday sleeping in his childhood bedroom. He hadn't been home in months but the sheet still smelt like him. She scraped her knees climbing up the trellis to his window, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She’d laughed to herself examining the superficial wounds, enjoying the familiar bite of nostalgia. Memories of her childhood long since passed left tears at the corners of her eyes. Near manic laughter faded into a melancholy exhaustion.

Her eyes focused on the small book collection Jake had managed over the years. They had all been perfectly aligned in their homes on his bookshelf; set in alphabetical order by author. His need for structure despite his free spirit had been amusing until it became mildly concerning. Routine, crafted to satisfy the need to stay completely distracted from an overwhelm of feelings he had always been sure he didn’t have the capacity to express. The hope in her heart had always been that he might learn to hone his particular brand of presentiment. He’d always been so rough-and-tumble, so hard to worry after; determined to never let the mask slip as he raced through life with a smile.

1400 miles away she ached to be beside him; so lonely in her knowledge of him. She worked to comfort herself by tracing the titles on the spines of the books he’d left behind. Over and over. Over and over. With blurring vision and an unfocused mind, she slipped into a well-deserved sleep. The sun streamed so gently through the window of Jake’s room. A touch of light tugging her from her slummer had been a welcome change from the jarring wake-up call she had at home. Two siblings who had yet to figure out how to make themselves breakfast without bickering or clattering plates. The smell of fresh coffee and pancake batter wafted up from downstairs.

The bedroom door squeaked as she opened it, and underfoot the floorboards in the old farmhouse creaked, each step down the staircase punctuated with the sonance of more than a hundred years of life. In the Seresin house, the noises reminded her of the generations who had come and gone, it was easy to imagine the lives that had been lived within the walls. Across the yard, the similar shifts and groans of her childhood home echoed like ghostly calls; the whispers warning of a life liable to be wasted if she stuck around.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Mrs Seresin smiled, setting an extra spot at the kitchen table. His mother had always been the kindest person she’d known. Despite the undisputable reality that her son’s girlfriend had all but broken into her home, she welcomed her with open arms, asking if she wanted blueberries in her pancakes.

The longer they went without mentioning the elephant in the room the easier it became for her to slouch a bit in her seat, appreciating each bite of the breakfast that had been offered to her. Nineteen years of being in rooms out of necessity rather than desire had made it difficult to trust other’s interest in her well-being.

Feeling her shoulders drop in relief left her feeling something like a stray cat brought in to shelter from the storm; glad to accept Mrs Seresin’s kindness, but uneasy all the same. She had grown used to being weary of tenderness and generosity; always waiting to hear the conditions of the beneficence.

Sipping her coffee, Mrs Seresin smiled over the lip of the mug. “If you want to stay a little longer, you could help me go through some of Jake’s old clothes. Some of them would probably fit Jackson now”. Her words reached like an olive branch across the table, and for a moment she understood that perhaps the older woman wasn’t just benevolent for the sake of it, not on this day at least. With her only living child out of the house she had been lonely in her need to mother someone, and glad just for the company as unorthodox as the circumstances may have been. She’d been glad to learn that some glint of selfishness lingered in everyone, and in a strange turn, it only made her trust the woman more.

She hadn't expected a pile of folded sweatshirts to make her cry, and yet in a blink of an eye, she found herself sobbing. A flicker of hurt rushed through her with the realization that some things will always matter more to her than they do to anyone else. Just another piece of clothing to Jake, another part of her task for the day to his mother. But she was holding the world in her hands.

She remembers that sweatshirt well, red and worn out by time, always just a bit too tight in the shoulders, the seams stretching at the sleeves. He was wearing it the night he picked her up from her first date.

Bobby Dunbar had been two years older than her, and had no idea of the meaning of the word ‘no'. She left him alone in the movie theatre after he'd tried to creep a hand up her skirt for the second time. With a quick call from the closest payphone, Jake was on his way to pick her up without questions.

Together, they drove out of town and past their homes the sun dipping down below the seemingly endless horizon. Overhead the stars had begun to make themselves appreciable against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Parked, they lay in the bed of the truck looking up at the sky ahead. He took care to trace the constellations for her, naming them as he went. In the meantime, her fingertips copied the shapes with invisible lines across his chest. The well-loved red sweatshirt was soft beneath her cheek.

He kissed her for the first time that night. Not her first kiss, but the first one that mattered. Jake always had this ability to make her world stop spinning, even if just for a moment. Sitting on the edge of his bed sobbing into the sweater she wanted nothing more than to be near him, to hear him tell her everything was going to work out for them in the end.

“I got my scholarship,” she told Mrs. Seresin, “I'll start in the fall, and I'll be able to live on campus”.

“That's amazing news sweetheart,” her affirmation, so much like her son’s.

“It's a lot farther for Jake to drive. I won't be here to check on Jackson and Olivia. My mo--”

“They'll be alright. It's high time you live your dream, honey”.

At nineteen years old, she struggled to understand that sometimes the beginning feels like the end. A pit growing in her stomach, she clutched the bags of hand-me-down clothes as she headed home. The sky above was dotted with the same stars Jake had taught her about years ago, she stood still for a moment trying to remember the feel of his lips, or the comfort of his hand in hers, but only felt the cool evening breeze.

Twenty-one felt like wearing a costume. Joining the Navy. Getting good grades. Helping on the farm whenever he had an ounce of free time. Being a good son, being a good boyfriend. He was playing dress-up in a life that wasn’t built for him, and yet he found himself so desperate to play the part.

The first few months away had been excruciating. Most nights he chugged Pepto-Bismol before going to bed, hoping that the tearing feeling in his chest was just heartburn, and not just his soul stretching across four states. It had been the longest they’d ever been separated; smashing the previous record of the one week he spent with his aunt and uncle when he was ten.

He won’t blame her for the divide that grew between them, but he knows that the ache in his chest cracked into a chasm sometime after she moved onto her college campus.

The commute to see her was longer, his back was stiff, and his eyes were tired after driving hours, and crisscrossing state lines. The time they spent together was almost exclusively spent sleeping or skipping around their desperate need to return to what they once were, all while refusing to give up their dreams.

Two years into her degree he was exhausted. On base, his bed was assembled for practicality, not for comfort. Hard, uneven mattress and nights spent cold beneath the covers without the warmth of her body tucked against him. His bunkmates all snored, and the hustle and bustle of those still working during his allotted sleeping hours kept his mind alert even as his body dosed. In her dorm room, her duvet was plush and cozy, her pillows smelt like her shampoo, and she snuggled as close to him as physically possible on the nights he managed to make it to her. But her roommate was nosy and made it almost impossible for him to love on his girlfriend. Unable to touch her as freely as he yearned to-- and even worse, unable to speak as freely as he needed to, his feelings threatened to choke him. Lost without the level of communication that had become their life preserver for years, he felt as though he was drowning.

At twenty one he asked his father for his grandmother’s engagement ring. A family heirloom he’d always known he’d propose with one day. He would make good on the promises he made. They would get married and he’d buy them a house-- he had already managed to save quite a bit. It was not a lack of love that broke them, but perhaps an excess of it. A shared desperation to do more, and be better; both of them hell-bent on clawing their way out of the ruts they’d found themselves stuck in. And with so much to prove it had been impossible to climb without letting go of each other.

He was down on one knee when his heart was ripped from his chest. For a moment he felt it was impossible to breathe. His mind was silent, too stunned to think and too confused to speak. She was still shaking her head when he finally found the strength to look up at her again. “No,” she said. “I thought--”

“I’m sorry-- I can’t. I won’t. It’s not fair,” she told him. Certainly not fair, he thought desperate to understand. But when had life ever been fair? “I can’t,” she repeated. He watched, hopeless, as she shrunk in on herself. The bright, brilliant girl he’d spent more than half his life loving shied away from him, hiding behind a shame he couldn’t find a source for.

As he slowly made his way back to his feet, with the ring box shoved back into his coat pocket, she spoke again. “I think it would be better if we spent some time apart”. That he had not been expecting, and the words nearly had him keeling over; a brutal blow that knocked the air from his lungs. He found himself helpless, unable to do anything but nod. All his fight sat on the tip of his tongue, pinched between his teeth, betrayed by his pain, and misunderstanding. I’m sorry, he wanted to say. For anything. For everything. But the words never came out. “I’m sorry,” she wept as she ushered him out of her dorm room.

With one hand, and no force he held the door frame for a moment, one last longing look at the girl he knew he’d love forever. “One day we’ll be enough for each other again”. He hoped that was true.

She carries a spark of regret in her chest, it grows when she thinks of him, and it shrinks when she remembers she freed him too. She thinks now that her denial of Jake Seresin may have been hasty. Fifteen years older, and with more perspective than she had at twenty-one, she thinks their lives could have been different if she had been brave enough to talk things out.

Her fear of stagnation had been her only motivation for so much of her life. His proposal had been on the surface a desperate attempt to cling to a bond they had begun to outgrow. And while his intentions at their core had been pure, getting married would not have saved their relationship. She had only begun to live for herself, and he still didn’t understand that his life was his own. Their marriage would have only served as a new way to masquerade and play pretend; years of running away from the fears that kept them both up at night. He would have grown to resent her inability to live without planning, and she would have hated his unintended absenteeism. Being married would not have kept his side of the bed warm, nor would it have given him any new ability to quell her anxieties.

She still thinks of him often. From her apartment on a clear day her view of the sky seems to span for miles and miles. She pictures him up there, carving through the clouds with the dedication and precision she’s always known he’d be capable of. She imagines him happy, living his dream. She hopes he’s proud of himself, and she prays that he knows that she’s proud of him too.

Sometimes, she lets herself wonder if he ever settled down; offered his grandmother’s ring and his heart on his sleeve to some other lucky girl. She’s tried to move on herself a few times, but never made it close to feeling like she was in love. The last guy had been a year ago now, he was nice enough, handsome, had a good job, and a good sense of humour. On paper he was flawless. He’d take her out for dinner, and walk her to her door. Sometimes he spent the night. He bought her flowers, and held her hand. But on one too many occasions she felt inexplicably lonely sitting next to him. He complained that she wasn’t any fun. She struggled to explain the sense of responsibility she’d never been able to shake. She asked him about his dreams. He never seemed to have any.

And so the hint of any spark that had been there fizzled away into nothing.

She tells herself she’s happier on her own and decides to keep moving forward, ignoring the cracking of her heart. She uncorks a bottle of wine, dancing alone in her kitchen, looking out at the vast evening sky and the setting sun. As much as she enjoys the view from her rental, she’s been in California long enough that it might be worth buying into the housing market. Nothing fancy, but something she can truly call her own. She’s been making good money for a while now, and her siblings have made it through college themselves. Jackson moved to New York with his sights set on being an architect. Olivia moved to Austin and became a nurse. Her mother hasn’t bothered to call in ages. Her shoulders relax without the added pressure of caring for others. For the first time in a very long time, her mind is quiet--it’s finally time to write the last chapters in her own story and stop running.

He keeps an old photograph of her in the inside of his flight suit, right over his heart. He’s living his dream, and he won’t allow himself to forget that she’s the reason why. Driving home from base at night he passes houses much larger than the bungalow he’s been renting. He wonders where she went after she graduated, and what kind of job she has now.

He chooses to picture her happy even at the expense of his feelings; a devoted husband coming to wrap his arms around her while she stirs a pot on the stove. A scintilla of guilt makes itself known as he grows somewhat jealous of this life he's envisioned for her. The truth is that he knows she was right for turning him down. They were too young, too naive, and too frightened. Breaking up with him may have been the first time he had seen her truly put herself first, and in hindsight, he’s glad she did. He knows he’d never have been able to live with himself if he had been what stood in the way of her making her dreams come true. It took him a while to understand the gift she had given him when she sent him away. The freedom to be the man he wanted to be, and not the man anyone else needed him to be.

He’d fucked it up more than once along the way. At work, he had become too brash, too cocky, too full of himself. He put his walls up and wore the self-assured mask he thought people wanted to see. Unwavering confidence, and determination. His return to Top Gun had been a wake-up call. He’d been forced to adapt, to let his guard down and learn how to let people in again. And for the first time since he was a teenager he appreciated the difference between being valued and being important. The realization had come with a sense of belonging and camaraderie that he hadn’t expected but couldn't afford to forget.

In his personal life, he had failed time and time again to form long-term bonds. One-night stands didn’t hurt, but the idea of waking up next to someone left him nauseous. But the truth is he yearns for that connection. He wants to be seen. He wants to be understood. He stopped going home to visit his parents two years ago, the weight of self-placed expectation chewed through him and left him hollow; guilt filled its place.

Last week he stood back straight, with his heart full of pride as he accepted his promotion. The new rank came with a new role, and a new more permanent position. He'd be stationed in San Diego for at least five more years. He called his mother. He booked a flight home for his next break. He started browsing real estate pages. It’s time to stop running.

She’s only made it to a couple of open houses so far but she hasn’t been able to find anything she likes yet. Most of the houses she’s seen are out of her price range. Others have been too modern, some too outdated.

She remembers the Seresin’s kitchen, the buttery yellow walls and linoleum tiles. Their house wasn’t flashy, nor had it been renovated anytime in 1980, but it was cozy. She can remember the smell of Mrs. Seresin’s baking. In her mind's eye, she recalls the feel of the cabinet doors that Mr. Seresin had built himself when they moved in, and his wife’s initials carved into the bottom corner of the cupboard over the sink. In every way possible they had made that ordinary farmhouse a home, and she wants the same for herself now. Like everything in her life, she decided her house has to be perfect. She’ll know it when she sees it.

The house is a two-story craftsman, built circa 1935. The siding is a garish kind of coral colour, faded by the sun, and the trims stand out in a soft vanilla colour, chipped at the edges. She’s driving home from work when she sees the sign for the open house standing proudly on the front lawn. Without a thought she pulls over, throwing the car into park. Inside, it smells like freshly baked cookies-- a real estate trick she’s learned over the last few weeks. It’s easy to imagine a house is your own when it smells so inviting. She's come to expect this, and won't let it blind her.

Her heels click across the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the empty house. She moves past the stairs into the surprisingly spacious living room. A large window looks out onto the quiet cul-de-sac, and the room sits bathed in the soft glow of the street lights outside. She imagines the room furnished, with soft drapery, a plush sofa, tv hung above the fireplace, and she can imagine herself unwinding here. The dining room is a fair size, and the kitchen has a sliding door that opens up to the backyard. The cabinets are brand new, and the owners have spent time renovating while staying true to the charm of the house. On the countertop, she picks up the real estate agent’s pamphlets about the home, amenities and nearby schools are listed, and she wonders if she might have the chance to raise a family here.

Overhead the sound of steady footsteps, and a pair of heels make their way down the hall and then the stairs. “If you decide to put in an offer, do not hesitate to call, in this market the early bird gets the worm,” a woman speaks. “I appreciate it, thank you,” a man replies in a low southern drawl, “do you mind if I take a look at the backyard before I head out?” “Not at all! Take your time, I’ll be out front just getting my signs if you need anything else”.

He’s barely stepped into the kitchen when he hears his name. “Jake?” a familiar voice wonders, her arms coming immediately to wrap around him. She hits his chest with a thud, but it does move him an inch. Her name is sighed into her hairline as he holds her close. “You made it-- all the way to California,” He smiles, pulling back to get a good look at her. She’s as gorgeous as he remembers, if not more so. Her features have sharpened over time, and he thinks her hair might be darker now, but she’s glowing. Her grin is wide and her shoulders relaxed as she reaches to trace his name and rank on his uniform. “You’re flying, Jake,” she all but whispers. He nods, his eyes softening as his hand comes to rest over hers, his heart racing beneath her palm. “Turns out I’m pretty good at it,” he jokes, and is rewarded with his favourite laugh.

His free hand lowers to rest on her hip and she steps closer, familiarity allows them to skip out on formality. He’s missed this; a shared closeness loud enough for them to speak without saying anything. He knows her like he knows the back of his own hand, and even with years passed between them, he’s able to fill in the gaps. Her clothes are well made, and well fitted. Office wear. Her shoes leave her standing tall, reminding him of senior prom and the time they spent slow dancing. He knows what she’s overcome, and he’s never had any doubt about where she would end up. Clearly successful, and if the way her smile meets her eyes is any indicator, she’s happy too.

In all honesty, she’s not sure who leans in first, but she knows she’s kissing Jake Seresin for the first time in fifteen years. He kisses with hesitation at first but allows himself to give in to a passion grown with time. He’s more skilled than he was the first time they kissed, and she tries her best not to flush with jealousy. His cropped hair is soft where her hand reaches up to hold at the back of his head willing him closer.

One step at a time he backs her across the room until her back meets the wall. With fingers gripping the collar of his shirt she begs him to crowd her space. She swears he’s taller now. His shoulders are broader, his arms far more defined. He’s always been handsome but the boyish charm has been replaced by something far more deadly, and she’s convinced she’d die happy if it was him stealing her breath away.

She melts beneath him. His hand moves across her hip, down to feel the round of her ass, before his grip tightens at the flesh of her thigh, warm in her cute little dress slacks. Neither of them bothers to suppress the moans or sighs that leave them when begins to kiss down his neck. His knee slots between her legs, thudding when it makes contact with the wall, startling them both.

“Careful. You break it you buy it, Jake”.

“I think homeownership will be good for me,” he grins catching his breath.

“Not if I buy it first,” she quips, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she blinks up at him. He groans, his knees weak as her smile grows. “Let’s talk it out over dinner,” He manages his counteroffer.

***

Their house smells like chocolate chip cookies, made from the recipe Jake’s mother passed down. The window in the master bedroom offers a gorgeous view of the San Diego sky. On weekends, she wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing, and Jake sliding back into bed, his hands greedy as he pulls her from her sleep with warm kisses and the promise of breakfast if they manage to make it down the stairs.

The floorboard creaks when he comes home at night, the weight of his day shed at the door. He greets her as if he's been gone for months even when it’s only been a few hours. And he holds as if he’ll never see her again when he returns from a deployment.

The gentle breeze that blows through the open windows of their little home carries away their lingering anxieties, and they allow themselves to soften in each other’s presence.

They lay in the grass in their backyard, paint smeared across their clothes, brows sweaty from a hard day's work. The siding is now a fresh, pale green, the trims glow in a soft white. Above them, the stars shine. The same stars they watched as children, and loved as teens. He watches her, enamoured, as she points to the North Star tracing her way around the night sky, recalling the stories he told her about each constellation. He wonders how many lifetimes are painted in the sky above them, how many lovers have admired the stars as they have.

She pulls him from his thoughts, rolling to settle with her knees at either side of his hips, her left hand resting on his heart. He looks at her as if he’s in awe of her, his wedding band cold on her back as his hand slides underneath her shirt. Leaning down to kiss him she’s certain this is the life she’s always been running towards.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin #FTWC #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun hangman

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owlwithanapple · 4 months ago

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Their Favorite ❤️‍🔥👄🔞

Content : Adult Content

Characters : Bruce Wayne x Y/N

“Y/N, I have an emergency, maybe a lot of emergency, reschedule all my meetings. I'll be back in a maybe few hours or late night? Do it for me, thanks.” Bruce says walking out of his office as he puts on the jacket that matches his pants.

Y/N had been working at Wayne Enterprises as Bruce's personal assistant for almost a year now? Which was quite an accomplishment, considering most people quit for the same reason. He always seemed to have a lot of“emergency” and his poor assistant ended up having to reschedule his entire schedule.

Other than that, he didn't give much more work and the pay was generous. Maybe too freaking generous. Sure, he had to compensate Y/N enough to keep them from asking any questions, the least he needed was for his assistant to find out that he was none other than the Dark Knight.

“Oh, my sweet girl. Go buy yourself something nice to make up for it, don't worry about the price and charge it to my account. And don’t hesitate, you have my word.” Bruce winked seductively added before calling the elevator.

“Uh huh. Emergency again? What a busy man you are. I should considering buying a condo since you said charge it to your account.” There is sarcasm in your words to make fun of him.

He chuckled slightly when heard your comment. You were usually pretty witty and a little bit naughty, it was one of the things that made both of you working together so enjoyable.

The elevator stopped at the parking lot and he walked over to his car. He joked before getting into the car. “Just don't spend more than you make. I can't have my assistant going bankrupt.”

“Gotcha, daddy~since I have your card.” You stand aside his car winking at him playfully as he allows you to spend his money while you played his card in hand.

He was momentarily taken back by the wink. The comment combined with the wink made his thoughts go somewhere they shouldn't. He managed to regain composure and chuckled again.

“Keep it up because I might just have to fire you.” He said jokingly, although it came out sounding a little less like a joke than he intended.

“I know very well that you won't do that.” You smirked confidently as you’re not afraid he would fire you.

He chuckled and shake his head. He started the car and revved the engine a few times. “I like your confidence, charming and hot. I'm off. Don’t have too much fun with my card.”

You couldn't help but laugh, enjoying the teasing interaction between the two of you during work time. After watching his car leave, you returned to the office to handle the work he assigned to you.

Bruce smirked as he watched you walk away. You were certainly a breath of fresh air from the usual sticklers that worked in high positions at Wayne Enterprises. As he drove to the batcave, Bruce still kept your comment in his mind from earlier.

‘Daddy’

Normally he’d find that statement offensive, it sounded like she was calling him an old man. But for some reason, coming from you it didn’t have the same effect. The smile on his lips couldn't be concealed at all when recalling every banter between you two.

A few hours later, Bruce returned to Wayne Enterprises. He was tired from the night, the amount of criminals trying to take advantage of his “busy schedule” seemed to have increased. He was also in a pretty foul mood, his night had been quite unproductive, most criminals seemed to have been staying indoors.

Bruce walked into the building and was heading back to his office when he caught a glimpse of you through your office door. You still working on his schedule. Bruce paused in the doorway, watching you silently for a few moments.

As Bruce watched, he couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked, the perfect blend of sharp and soft, which somehow fit together perfectly. He enjoyed you around him while working with him, not boring and serious like soldiers. It’s fun and bantering like intimate close friends.

He realized hadn’t said a word since walking in and he had been standing there watching you for what probably seemed like an uncomfortable amount of time. It only further solidified his assumption that he didn’t get out enough.

You leaned beside the shelf and flipped the document that he hasn’t finalized and filled out yet, obviously didn’t notice he’s back to Wayne Enterprises. Bruce cleared his throat gently to get your attention “I’m back, sweet girl.”

“How long you standing there? You should bang into my office rather than standing like a statue.” You close the document putting it back on desk. “Oh by the way, welcome back, handsome. So what’s the emergency?”

He stepped a bit closer, now leaning against the doorway as he watched her. He shoved his hand up and sighed but he pulled back a smiles as he don’t want to expose Batman’s duty. “Just some part time job. Must be annoying having to constantly deal with my ‘emergencies’, but I do appreciate it. I don’t know what I’d do without a competent assistant.”

You tilt your head because you feel he’s so suspicious especially about the emergency he mentioned, but didn’t force him to talk about it. He’s your boss and you’re his personal assistant, respect each other boundaries “Uh huh. What a busy man you are. The schedule I already rescheduled it.”

“Well done, sweet girl. I expected nothing less from my favorite assistant.” Bruce answered, a hint of a smile and teasing on his lips.

He admiring the way you held yourself, as assistant you’re confident and calm, as a close friend you’re naughty and teasing. Something that seemed to be harder to find in Gotham.

Bruce’s eyes moved to the clock and he straightened himself with a sigh. “It’s late, you should get going. Can’t let sweet girl like you work overtime again.”

“Yup. I need a good nap, especially my boss trusts me so much then I have to face a mountain of paperwork.”You rolled your eyes when he still flirted with you. You start packing things into your handbag and prepare to go home.

“Yeah, you look tired—.“ Bruce realized he can’t stopped to flirt with you. Maybe is the casual way to talk with you including some flirty things like this. He was about to tell you looked good, even tired.

Instead, he said “Well, drive safe. Can’t have my favourite assistant getting in any accidents.”He started to walk away but paused and added flirtatious words. “I’m watching you and my account transaction history. Don’t think I’ve forgotten to see what you bought with my card.”

You pouted at him like you’re thinking about what you were going to buy when his cards were in your hand, suddenly an idea appeared on your mind and you made a sound like real “Opps. Maybe a condo? Or Range Rover? Hahahaha. Goodbye, Bruce.”

He chuckled at your retort. He had to give it to you, you are just as witty and so attractive just like his ex lover Selina Kyle, but both of you are different ways of charming people. Bruce nodded in response. “Night. My sweet girl.”

After you left, Bruce returned to his own office and sat at his desk. He was supposed to finish some paperwork, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Specifically, on you. Bruce had never considered himself a very romantic or sexual person. After all, with his work as Batman, he didn’t have much time for romance. With you or Selina Kyle.

And yet, here he was, sitting in his office and his thoughts were on you. Not on criminals or the Batman, but on a beautiful 25 year old woman who is his personal assistant. Bruce leaned back in his desk chair and sighed, it was very unlikely that he’d get anything done tonight.

He was sure most people in similar circumstances would go out to a bar and flirt with an attractive woman, maybe even bring her home and have some “fun”. But Bruce wasn’t most people. The idea of going to a bar to flirt with some random women wasn’t appealing, he didn’t work that way.

He had to admit, the thought of bringing you home and having some “fun” was very appealing…Holy shit…No. He ran a hand over his face. Was he really thinking about bringing you , his attractive younger assistant home?

Damn his mind. It would be crazy. Insane even. He’d lose his favorite sweet assistant, the one person in Wayne Enterprises he could trust and enjoyed working with. Not only that, you were much younger than him, almost 10 years. How old was he? A 35 year old man thinking about a 25 year old like this?

No. He couldn’t think like that. Besides, there was the chance that you had already in a relationship. It was probably the most likely scenario anyway. He pinched his nose bridge and murmured “What a sweet girl..”

Suddenly, an unbidden thought popped into his mind: if you are single, would you be into him? Bruce shake his head. Since when did he think in that way? Of course not. How many times had he heard the old trope about people not dating their bosses.

In your apartment, you sat down on the couch, scrolling and browsing online by use your laptop. You had your legs tucked under yourself, laptop in lap as you typed away, looking through items to charge to your boss’ credit card…As you browsed, kept your mind occupied with other things, so you didn’t accidentally go overboard.

Finally, you made a decision which item you should buy for yourself. An online transaction appears in his account. It’s you using his card to purchase a whole new coffee machine, especially the expensive one that includes a lot of new equipment.

‘Bing.’

He looked up from his work after the noise and went to his computer. Opening it up and looking at the transaction that has just popped up. Bruce’s eyes widened slightly when he realized what it was. ‘She’s certainly not holding back…’ He thought with a smirk.

In the same time, you laughed at the purchase price and succeeded. You never holding back especially you have this special treatment which is personally given by your boss. You take a screenshot for the transaction and send it to his chat account. “Thanks~my favorite boss. Love you so much.”

Bruce’s computer pinged again as he received a message. He smiled as he read that you had thanked him and said you love him. He knew you didn’t mean it in a romantic way, and yet for some stupid reason, it made his heart flutter. He quickly wrote a short reply. “Goodnight, my sweet girl.”

“Night night, my boss.” You type a message and send it to him. You feel a little sleepy, before that you go into the bathroom, take off your clothes and take a hot bath. You come out of the bathroom with naked, you dry your body and hair, put on your lace nightgown and climbed on the bed to sleep.

By the time Bruce saw the reply on his computer, he had turned it off and was on his way back to the manor. He kept thinking about the email, especially when you had thanked him, called him “favorite” and said you“love” him. He knew he shouldn’t be this excited for something that might have just been a funny remark, but he couldn’t help it.

He wasn’t focused on the road, just letting the autopilot car drive by itself while his thoughts were still filled with his assistant. After a while he made his way to his bedroom. It’s not like he would get much work done anyway if his thoughts were preoccupied with his very attractive personal assistant.

Bruce stripped out of his clothes, taking a quick shower, just like you , came out just as naked and dried his body with a towel. He had no reason to wear any clothes to bed, completely exposed himself. He stood in front of the mirror. He was a playboy in Gotham City. Thanks to his alter ego as Batman fighting criminals, he had such attractive muscles. He lying under his covers, closed his eyes and sleep.

Morning comes, you arrive at your work building early as usual. You stepped into the elevator and scan the access card to go directly to Bruce's office. After arriving at the floor, you go to the office kitchen to make two cups of coffee. Bring it into his office, put his credit card on the desk and return it to him, then sort out the documents on the desk.

A little while later, Bruce arrived. After parking his car in the parking lot, made his way inside, greeted by many of his employees, most of them greeted him with a smile. He got into the elevator and get to his floor. He didn’t have to wait long before it arrived.

Bruce walked through the hallway that led to his office. He slowed slightly as he passed your office, but didn’t stop. Arriving at his office, he pushed the door open. As expected, you are already at work. Two cups of coffee sat on his desk, along with the file he had been working with last night.

Bruce smirked when he saw his credit card on his desk, it seemed like you were enjoying the benefits it gave you. He picked up the card and put it back into his wallet. Bruce took the coffees and smiled his thanks. He said with a chuckle. “I see you’re already putting that card to good use. Did you have fun with my credit card yesterday?”

You chuckled and turned your back to him while sorting out the documents, you answered him in a teasing tone as usual. “You know. A coffee machine. I've always wanted one in my apartment.”

“And the most expensive one you could find, I assume…?” He said in a teasing voice, a smirk still on his lips. Bruce picked up a cup and took a sip of the hot coffee. It was perfect as always.

You stop what you are doing and turn around to give him a smug smile. You look around the office to make sure no one is outside, then you walk over to him and sit at his desk. “I was thinking about the expensive stuff suits your taste. Maybe you can stopped by and I can make a coffee for you with my new coffee machine. If you free.”

He watched you go over to his desk and sit on the edge, a smirk on lips. He was momentarily surprised by how close you were sitting. When you made the suggestion to have a drink in your apartment, something flashed through Bruce’s mind. For a moment, he almost thought you are insinuating something.

Bruce placed his cup of coffee down on his desk and stood up, standing directly in front of you. He looked down at you , he almost towered over you while you sitting down. He leaned closer, his arms folded across his chest. “Maybe…I should be free sometime. I’d need to know your address though…”

You chuckled and nodded slightly, then took out your phone and sent the address of your apartment and the exact location to his chatroom. “There. Remember mark it as important.”

Bing—

Bruce heard the sound of his phone notifying him of a new message and picked it up. The message, your apartment’s address. He smiled when you made the comment and looked up from his phone. “Don’t pretend like you’re not handing your address out to every guy you meet.”

You grabbed his tie pulled it closer to make him standing between your legs. You stroke his tie like tracing the sensations with your fingers. He was standing between your legs now. “Because the others… I never invited them to come stopped by in my apartment for a coffee.”

Bruce’s breath hitched when you pulled him closer and started touching his tie, his hands reflexively reached out and placed themselves on the desk. His hands gripping the desk’s edge, his knuckles starting to turning white.

Bruce was trying to keep his composure and not make it look like the actions were affecting him, but it wasn’t exactly working. He tried and failed to ignore the feeling of your legs on either side of him, your thighs were practically against his hips. “And why would that be?”

You looked into his eyes and gently traced your fingers over his tie. Being able to smell his faint scent and the smell of coffee just now from such a close distance which makes your heart move. “Because you know how to taste it.”

Bruce’s breath hitches as you looked into his eyes, your fingers tracing over his tie. He was intensely aware of how close both of you, he could practically feel the warmth of your breath on his face. Your words, the simple comment of a double meaning sent a rush of heat through him. He could feel his heart thump in his chest.

Bruce moved his right hand and placed it on your thigh, letting it rest there. He said, his gaze drifting to her lips. “And I know how to taste other things too…”

You tilted your head and looked innocently, but you knew his meaning when his gaze turned to your lips. You released his tie and holding his hand that’s on your thigh. “Sounds great. I wonder what you will do?”

Bruce’s grip on your thigh tightens slightly. He knew you’re playing innocent, and he was falling for it. He took a step forward, eliminating the distance between them and pressed his body against you. He placed his other hand on your hip, holding you in place.

He bent down a little, his lips only a few millimeters away. He could feel the heat rising in his chest and in the pit of his stomach. He said in a low voice, his breathing becoming a bit shallow. “I have few ideas…”

You chuckled at him “Must be a great idea.”

His voice was still in a low tone, he was still staring into your eyes. He could feel that he was already getting aroused, your proximity and the scent of skin weren’t helping. He brought his hand from your hip up to chin, tilting your head up slightly. His gaze falling on your lips. “Should I show you a sample?”

You turned your head and looked at the clock. There were still thirty minutes left before his meeting. You didn't want to waste it. You grabbed his hand and moved it to your inner thigh to tease him. “Time is of the essence, don't waste it.”

He still has at least half an hour to kill before he needed to be in the conference room for a meeting. As good as that idea sounded, he wouldn’t be able to fully express it without being late. He looked back down at you as you moved his hand to your inner thigh, his breath hitched as he felt the smoothness of your skin under his hand. “Oh don’t worry… I don’t have any intentions of wasting time.”

All it took was a few simple words on part, the little self-control that was left inside of Bruce was gone. A primal part of his brain had taken over. As soon as he finished speaking, he squatted down and spread wide open your legs to accommodate his body.

Without giving you a chance, he pulled your panties down and buried his face under your skirt, licking your clitoris with his tongue to taste you. You felt a rush of passion, the part he licked was constantly rubbed by his tongue, as if he was sucking you in hungrily. You grabbed his shoulders, your body trembled continuously, you straightened your waist and tilted your head upwards to moan.

When the two of you were busy, the phone on his desk suddenly rang, interrupting both of your enjoyment. You turned your head saw it was from Lucius Fox, which must be the preparation for the meeting. You stopped him from licking, but he ignored it and indulged in it. With no other options left, you clutched his clothes tightly, stifling your own moans, and forced yourself answered his call for him.

“H-Hey Mr Lucius…how can I help you…?” You answer the phone, your voice slightly shaky as you clutched onto Bruce as he continued. You said, but mentally cursing at Bruce because he’s not stopping what’s he’s doing right now! You tried your best to make your voice sound normal, keeping back a moan as you felt Bruce’s tongue run over your sensitive parts.

On the other end of the phone, Lucius had expected to speak to Bruce, but instead was met with your voice. Not knowing the situation, completely unaware of what was happening on the other side of the phone call, continued on. “Hey smart girl, is Bruce there with you? I need to quickly talk with him for a second about something important, is he available?”

Bruce, who was kneeling under the desk, didn’t even think about what it looked like on the other end of the phone call. He continued licking, enjoying the taste and texture. The moment you reached climax, you were about to moan loudly out but you can’t, you clutching his clothes tightly almost to ripping it to suppress the feeling.

You poked Bruce's head to hint that Lucius wanted to talk to him. Unexpectedly, Bruce looked up for a moment, silently communicating to you that he wanted you to speak for him.While he had never asked anything like this before, you had to admit that in your hazy mind it was actually quite funny in a messed up way.

How would Lucius feel to know his boss was between his personal assistant’s legs? However, he wasn’t going to stop what he was doing and you were forced to act as his mouth piece in the meantime. In this sneaky situation, you suddenly have a funny idea to make fun of Bruce. You suppress yourself and continue to talk to Lucius in phone while clutching his clothes tightly. “He is currently busy... Busy doing bad things..”

As you were forced to speak on behalf of your boss, holding back the moans and pleasure he was giving you. Lucius’s voice from the other end of the phone call went silent for a second before he spoke again. He asked, sounding a little confused but concerned. “Ummm… care to elaborate on that..?”

Meanwhile, Bruce looked up at you, his eyes narrowing when he heard you say ‘busy doing bad things.’ He got what you were doing and was slightly annoyed by it. Especially in this kind of situation, he'll keep you company with your naughty ideas , so he decided to punish you by biting your thighs.

A sudden tingling sensation increases the pleasure of your desire. You tilt your head back and your climax explodes once again. You clutched the phone harder than ever to hold yourself back. “He messed up the files....now I have to help him with it....”

Bruce’s ears twitched as he heard you speak. It was a clear that your voice was shaking a lot, clearly an effect of him and what he was doing. The comment you gave in response to Lucius gave him a hint that you were trying to play a game of your own, and it was clear that you were having a hard time getting your words out without sounding too obvious.

He felt a sense of satisfaction as he heard you struggle to speak. He decided that it was time to increase the torture a little. Suddenly, you felt a surge of excitement came over, his fingers tracing outside your sensitive parts.

Seeing the effects that his actions had on you, and hearing how hard it was for you to speak without letting anything slip to Lucius on the phone, Bruce smirked. He knew that he had you exactly where he wanted you, right on the edge. He wasn’t satisfied though. Bruce wanted to listen to you get more riled up and he thought of a way to do exactly that.

Bruce’s hands moved from your inner thighs and started tracing his fingers up and down on your outer parts, the sensation felt even more heightened due to the anticipation. He was teasing you. You continued speaking into your phone, but the words were coming out more labored and breathless than usual.

“Smart girl, are you alright over there…?” Lucius’s voice broke the silence that was on the call, he could tell from your shaky voice and weird behaviour that something wasn’t quite right.

Meanwhile Bruce looked up at you as he ran his finger along your most sensitive part, he knew that you were getting desperate and was waiting for your next words. Until he put a finger inside you to play it, you coughed to cover up your orgasm. “I’m alright…just my throat is a bit itchy…”

When you started coughing and tried to cover it up, Bruce was a little bit surprised, he thought you would have been able to handle it a little longer. He felt his mouth twitch into a smirk when he heard what you said to Lucius. It was clear that you were lying, but he couldn’t help but find the whole situation slightly amusing.

As he saw you struggling to hold yourself back, Bruce decided to up the ante and added a second finger. You grit your teeth, want to hang up the phone in your hand and throw it into the trash can. Your boss enjoys this atmosphere. Seeing you messed up by him increases his desire and enthusiasm.

As soon as Bruce added a second finger it was almost too much to bear for you, it was becoming increasingly hard to hold yourself back without doing something obvious. Meanwhile, Lucius was still sitting on the other end of the phone, his voice filled with a hint of concern. “Are you sure you’re alright…?”

“Yes…I’ll drink more water…thanks for your concern.”Bruce continued to watch you struggle and trying to keep your cool for Lucius’s sake. He knew that you were at your limit and was trying to hold on for dear life. But he didn’t think that you could get much farther without accidentally slipping in the obvious truth.

He curled his fingers slightly inside of you, he couldn’t help but smirk and feel a little pride because your body reacted so passionately. You didn't expect you couldn’t suppress his fingers so great inside you that when he did this, you would squirt so much like a mess. The feeling of Bruce’s fingers curling inside of you was too much and you had to suppress a moan.

Bruce watched your reaction, his smirk deepening a little. He was thoroughly enjoy watching you struggle on the phone to Lucius, listening to you struggle to keep your moans down so that Lucius didn’t catch on. Meanwhile, Lucius on the other end of the phone was getting a little suspicious. “You sound strange over the phone. You sure you’re alright? Should I come and check on you..?”

“Huh?! Um…nonono…don’t worry about it….”When you suddenly squirted on his fingers, Bruce was a little stunned by the sudden amount. He was only going to cause you a little more discomfort and make you try even harder to act normal.

You clutched the phone and his shirts tightly to suppress your feelings was about exposing out. He raised an eyebrow slightly in shock, slightly surprised at what you did. He could hear you desperately trying to stop any moans from being heard at the other end of the phone.

“Are you sure…?” Lucius asked again, getting more suspicious, especially your voice and breath. Lucius sounding like he was seconds away from getting up from his chair and heading over to check on you two.

You heard the sound of moving chair, sounds like Lucius was about stand up from his chair over the phone, and you tensed. For a moment you are distracted, you felt something hot rubbing against your entrance, it was Bruce.

His hot dick rubs against your entrance. He pushed you down to his desk, his face was smirked like he’s enjoying this moment. You swallow your saliva, do your best blurting out something to stopped Lucius leaving his office. “Mr Lucius, I’m really fine…Bruce and I still sorted out the meeting documents…”

As soon as you blurted that Bruce and you were working on the documents for the meeting, Lucius paused for a moment before speaking, thinking.“Alright fine… but don’t forget the meeting is in a few minutes.”

He slowly pushes forward his dick into yours, his waist begins to hit your hips roughly like his hunger reaches the limit, secreting hormones in your body. You lean your head back and grab his tie to calm your nerves. “Alright, see you later…Mr Lucius…”

When you spoke again, you tried to sound as normal as you possibly could, but it was clear that you were struggling. You tried to remain composed and calm as you spoke, but your mind was still in a haze from his actions. Lucius said, sounding a little reluctant, but still convinced. “I’ll see you in the meeting. Bye.”

When you heard Lucius hang up, you finally let go of all your worries. You put the phone aside and finally got back to work with your boss. You straddled your legs around his waist feeling his dick inside your body so deep and hot. “You bastard…”

All your worries and troubles vanished as soon as you heard Lucius hang up. With no one on the other end of the phone, you no longer had to worry about trying to hide yourself from him. He asked, pretending to be innocent, even though you both knew exactly what he did. “Me? What did I do that was so bad..?”

He fucks you over and over again without stopping, and the two of you enjoy the atmosphere and the pleasure brought by this little game. He was very fast, and the sensitive spots in your body were constantly poked, causing you to climax repeatedly, as if he knew where your weaknesses were. “You…know…if others knew about this…Bruce Wayne under his personal assistant’s skirt…that would be so funny…”

Every thrust felt like magic, as if he knew every single thing you wanted and needed. He knew exactly how to make you feel good. He smirked and looked at you as you mentioned that if others knew about what was happening under your skirt. “Oh yeah, it would be. Everyone would think that Bruce Wayne is so weak that he couldn’t even wait, is doing it in his office.”

The speed and intensity that he was moving, was incredible. It felt like he was possessed. “And they would think that he is such a bad boss that he doesn’t care about work, he just wants to do something else.”

He lifts your left leg hook it over his shoulder. His lips pass over every part of your left leg and leave kiss marks. You can feel a strong possessive breath coming from him. His movements are bigger and rougher without holding himself. He fucks you too extremely, just like him wanted to messing you up.

“I’m sure lots of people wouldn’t be surprised though, they’d probably think that it’s typical for him to take his assistant instead of getting a girlfriend. After all, it’s a lot easier to screw when you’re right there at hand.” He whispered in your ears make you shiver.

You clutched the edge of his desk, unable to close your mouth. Luckily his office was well soundproofed, otherwise the sounds of your moans, squirting, and thrusting would have spread throughout the building. “Oh…ah…Bruce…I’m again…”

The office was quiet, save for the sound of breathing and the occasional moan that he drew from you. But thanks the soundproofing, those sounds were firmly contained within the room, keeping them safe from anyone outside. “You’d better keep your voice down…unless you want someone to walk in and catch us.”

You enjoy the feeling of being possessed by him at this moment. You obey his orders, you grab his hand and put it to your mouth, you lick his thumb with your tongue and then gently bite it, the air from your mouth passes through his skin, you suppress your moaning desire. “Oh…Bruce…not fair to shut my mouth…Your office is obviously soundproof.”

Every time you licked his thumb and bit it slightly, he felt his skin tingle. It was like electricity was running down his spine every time your tongue touched him.

He smirked when heard you say that it was unfair for him to shut your mouth. He said with a cheeky grin.“I’m the boss, it’s my job to be unfair. But that doesn’t mean I want to listen to your loud moans…”

You squeeze his hot dick tightly inside yours and tease him to irritate him. You felt a burst of pain, but it ignited your desire to be abused. He’s kinda enjoying your naughty behavior in this intimate game.

He let out a low moan when you squeezed him inside, and it was getting a little harder to keep his cool and his voice down. He tried to keep his voice steady and even as he spoke. “You really are a little tease…don’t get so cocky, I’m your boss.”

Again. His rough hands slapped your peach-like buttocks, and gripping tightly until leaving red marks there. You squirt once more, the hot breath coming from the pain of his slapping your buttocks, he simply shows no mercy to you. “Ugh! Bruce!! More!”

He enjoyed the way you looked at him, in a mixture of pain and pleasure, mixed in with a hint of desperation. He liked seeing you like this, in pain, but also enjoying the whole situation. He gave your booty another rough slap, his hand making a sharp move.

Your pain-pleasure was delicious for him, it was like music, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. He could tell that you were in some pain, but your body still craved him and wanted to feel more. His desire for you was too strong, he needed to release more of himself.

You bit his thumb and almost let out a moan, your breathing quickened. Your trembling voice aroused desire once again as his lust burned every part of your body. “More…push me more…my boss…”

He could see how close you were getting and he knew that you needed something to tip you over the edge. He was enjoying this, watching you and listening to your trembling voice. He teased and taunted you, wanting to draw as many helpless begging sounds out of you as he could. “Oh, begging for it already, are you? What a sweet girl you are, so craving me.”

“Ugh ah….I couldn’t hold it anymore!”When you finally give in to the sensation, the amount of squirting exceeded your expectations, and your loud moans were almost enough to break the soundproofing on the walls. You release his thumb from your mouth and cover your mouth to reduce the sound of your loud moans.

He’s surprised at the amount of your squirting. It’s quite an amount, but he seems to enjoy it, it’s like a boost of energy to him. He looked down at you, his eyes darkened and his smirked, enjoying the sight of you trying to cover your moans up. He placed his hand on top of your hand that covered your mouth, preventing you from muffling the sounds. “Shh…Not so loud, sweet girl. What a great scene I love.”

Your moans and the sound of you squirting filled the room, making it impossible to ignore what was happening. He gently caressed your hair, looking at you with a hint of satisfaction. His thing is surging inside you, it has reached its peak and is about to burst out inside you.

His body is tense, his breathing is laboured, he’s trying his best to contain himself, to hold on a little longer, but it’s getting difficult. He groans again, his body shaking slightly, like he’s fighting hard against an invisible force. He moans, “I…I…I need..”

You feel it’s hurting your buttocks, he gripped it so hardly to increased your pleasure because he reached the edge was about to exposed. The sweat, the passion, the breath, the satisfaction and the pain. You clutched him tightly and moan louder don’t care anymore. All of the sensations pushed both of you two reached the climax in the same time.

It was like a race, a race to see who could reach the edge first, but you both could tell that you were both close, so close to the moment when nothing else mattered but the two of you, and the pleasure that you shared. His body is on fire, the sweat is trickling down his skin, his breathing is desperate, like he’s trying to catch his breath and failing.

Your body was full of his marks, some were fading, but most of them were brand new. He’d made sure to cover you in them, to leave his mark all over you and make sure that others knew you were his. He can’t say anything, his office surrounded by pants and moans, every part of body tense as both of you struggles with pleasure.

He’s trying to hold on, to not let himself burst. He’s groaning like it’s taking all his strength to hold back. It’s becoming difficult for him to hold back, he’s panting and moaning. He can’t say anything, every part of his body is tense as he. His body is shaking, you feel he’s filling up with his sweet hot juice inside your body.

You panting trying to catch your breath from the excitement and extremely passionate moment with your boss. When he finally releases, he let out a deep guttural moan, like a mixture of relief and satisfaction. He’s trying to catch his breath, panting and sweaty. “That…that was amazing.”

You chuckle at him after he moved away from you. With your last stamina, you pushed yourself up to sitting on the desk, the desk is messing like hell. Both of you completely ignored what surroundings both of you and buried each other in intimate moments. “Wow…that was extremely rough time.”

He looked at you, laughing slightly as you pushed yourself up to sit on his desk, your body still recovering from the activities.He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the messy desk, it was a clear indication of what had just happened between the two of you. He said, panting slightly. “Yeah, it was. Didn’t expect us to get so… rough.”

He continued looking at you, taking in the sight of your body covered in marks, the proof of what had just happened between the two of you. His body was still shaking slightly, his breath panting as he tried to regain his composure. “You’re…a naughty one.”

You pouted and swinging your legs playfully at him. You pulled him closer to his unbuttoned his suit jacket and pressed a red lipstick kiss mark inside his white shirt. You buttoned his suit jacket and whispered. “Because I’m your favorite assistant. So I’m allowed being naughty with you.”

He watched carefully as you buttoned his suit jacket, and didn’t protest once, letting you do as you please. When you whispered that you were his favorite assistant and allowed to be naughty with him, he smirked and nodded. “That’s true, you’re my favorite after all. But don’t get too carried away.”

You playfully pressed his cheek a kiss when both of you satisfied, then noticed the what time the clock showed. There are still ten minutes before the meeting time. You see that you are a little messy, you immediately get off from his desk and before you go to the bathroom to clean yourself up, especially your private parts. You winking at him. “Got to go, need to clean myself.”

He looked at the mess you left behind, with the slightly tousled desk and the chair. He let out a slight sigh and began fixing himself up a little, his tie, his hair, and his suit jacket. When he was done, he looked at the time. Ten minutes before the meeting.

The way the desk was messy, the way the room smelled, everything was a constant reminder of what had just happened between the two of you. He smirked, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction and excitement. He was the type of man to get off on taking control and having power over others, and having you as his assistant added an extra layer of excitement to it.

He adjusted his tie and fixed his hair, making sure he looked composed and presentable. It was important for him to maintain an air of professionalism, even though the two of you had just engaged in some rather unprofessional activities.

He took a moment to sit behind his desk and take a few deep breaths to compose himself. He still couldn’t believe what had just happened, but he was also feeling a sense of excitement and curiosity about how the rest of the day would play out.

After cleaning yourself, you notice that both your legs have his marks. You have no choice but to put on black semi sheer stockings to cover up the marks on your legs so that others won't ask you unnecessary questions. You leave the bathroom and pick up the meeting materials on his desk. “Shall we go? My favorite boss.”

He noticed the black semi sheer stockings that you had put on to cover up the marks left on your legs. It’s kinda seductive and sexy looking at them. A small smirk formed on his face as he knew exactly what you were covering up.He stood up from his desk and smoothed out his clothes, making sure he looked presentable. “We shall, my favorite assistant.”

He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you for a moment, appreciating the way the stockings fit you perfectly. He knew that he was the only one who would know what was under them, and the thought of that made him feel both possessive and intrigued. He stepped closer to you and put a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the meeting room.

Both of you walked side by side down the corridor, your bodies close together. Both of you walked in the same pace in the corridor, both of you satisfied with each other passionately. You stole a glance at him and whispered. “Did you think future I have to cover my legs with stockings?”

He could feel your warmth beside him, he was secretly satisfied knowing that only he knew what was under those stockings. He chuckled slightly. He looked down at your legs covered in stockings and then back up at you. “Well... that depends on me. Do you think you’ll have to wear them again in the future?”

You look around to confirm that is no one is around the corridors. You pulled him closer and whispered in his ears and bitten his earlobe. “If you bite me and leave me marks again.”

He couldn’t help but shiver a little at the feeling of your breath on his skin. He smirked and leaned in closer to you, his voice low and playful. “If I leave more marks on you, you know I'll expect you to wear stockings again. I don't want anyone else to see what's mine, my favorite assistant.”

Both of you chuckled at each other. As you continued walking. He glanced at you again, appreciating the way the stockings accentuated your legs, and the thought of leaving more marks on you filled his mind with excitement. But for now, he had to focus on the meeting, despite the distractions of his very naughty little assistant.

Bonus Part

Over the next few weeks, a unspoken agreement had been established between the two of you. During work hours, you both maintained a professional and respectful attitude as boss and personal assistant, keeping your true feelings and relationship masked from your colleagues.

However, when the two of you were alone together, that professional facade melted away, replaced by a passionate and intense connection. Keeping your relationship a secret added a thrill and a sense of the forbidden to your connection.

One day, he had a sly idea in mind to spice things up a little bit. Without warning, he went out and bought a wireless sex toy, specifically a remote-controlled vibrator. With a devious smile, he put the vibrator in the box and then placed the box in the drawer of your desk. He then made his way to the office, and he had the remote control in his pocket.

As expected, you were surprised by the appearance of a mysterious box on your desk. After opening it, you found a wireless vibrator, with the control remote missing. You couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled and intrigued. Just then he appeared at your desk, a sly smile on his face. He leaned against the desk. “I see you found my little surprise.”

You held back your smile and looked at the little fun thing he gave you under the desk. This guy is adding to the fun of the little game between us. “So…what game you going to play this time?”

He gave you a wink and then pushed himself away from the desk, casually walking away, leaving you guessing what he had in store for you. “You know me. I like to keep things interesting. Let’s just say… I have a little plan. Just make sure you keep that thing.”

You chuckle at his back as he left your office, and took out the instruction manual to read. Put the toy in underwear and put it on to fit your sensitive parts. Then use the wireless remote control to control the intensity of the vibration to bringing the pleasure. The intensity levels range from low to high.

But then, you realized that there was no remote control in the box. Bruce must have it, which meant he would be the one controlling the intensity of the vibration. You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and slight nervousness at the thought.

As you carefully placed the toy in your thong, you could feel a strong sense of excitement and anticipation building within you. The friction against your sensitive parts only served to heighten the sensation. You stand up and walk towards his office, the feeling of the toy against your body making every step feel pleasurable.

When you reach his office, you knock on his door and wait for his response, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. He looked up from his desk when he heard the knock on his door, he had been anticipating your arrival. He leaned back in his chair and called out. “Come in.”

He watched as you entered the room, closing the door behind you. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed the slight change in your gait. He sees you tapping on his desk, indicating that you have used the toy. He quickly cuts off his conversation and gives you a subtle nod, conveying that he got your message.

You stand nearby, maintaining a professional and focused demeanor, notebook in hand as you record the topics of the conversation. Suddenly, you feel a slight vibration in your thong, catching you off guard. You try your best to keep your composure, but the pleasure is undeniable.

He continues talking business, all the while discreetly adjusting the intensity of the vibration using the remote control. His eyes flicker up at you, a hint of amusement and control in his gaze. He keeps the vibration at a low, tantalizing level, wanting to draw it out and tease you further.

He can see your efforts to maintain a focused demeanor, but the small tells in your body language give away the pleasure you're feeling. He notices the slight flush in your cheeks, the clench of your thighs, the way your breath hitches ever so slightly.

You grip the pen tightly, trying to keep your focus on writing in the notebook as each time the vibration increases, your grip on the pen gets harder. He smirks at the way you're desperately trying to keep your cool, clearly enjoying the effect the toy is having on you. He keeps adjusting the intensity discreetly, watching as your hand trembles slightly with every increase in vibration.

He looks away from you to continue the conversation, but he keeps the vibration level as it is, enjoying the way you squirm and try to keep your voice steady. The continuous vibrations were starting to cause a new, noticeable effect on you. You were so focused on maintaining your composure that you hadn't realized how turned on you had become.

You were grateful that you had chosen to wear a black dress that day, because you could feel your wetness without even realizing it. The feeling was both pleasurable and maddening. He looks at you again, taking in your appearance. He can tell from the way you're standing that you're uncomfortable, but he just smirks and continues the conversation with the subordinate.

The sudden onslaught of the highest vibration setting was almost too much to bear. You had to do everything in your power to hold it together, biting your lip to keep from moaning out loud.

You quickly tried to distract yourself by coughing loudly, hoping that the people in the room would think you're just clearing your throat. "Ahem. Sorry, my throat is itchy…"

He looks at you, his smirk widening as he sees the effect the toy is having on you. He notices the way you bite your lip and cough to cover up any moans. He asks, feigning concern in his voice. "Are you okay? You look a little flushed."

You cleared your throat again, and kicked his chair under his desk. “Ahem, thanks for your concern, I’m good, just my throat a little itchy. Mr Bruce Wayne….”

He felt a wave of excitement wash over him. He knew that you were getting desperate, and he loved seeing you struggle to maintain your cool. When you spoke his name, he gave you a sly smile and continued his conversation like nothing was wrong. “I’m glad to hear that. Just let me know if you need anything."

You clutched the pen and notebook tightly. You stilled maintain your professional attitude in front of them. “If you say so, may I leave for a while? I need to use the bathroom.”

He looked at you with a nonchalant expression, as if the toy wasn't affecting you at all. He nodded. As you turned to leave, he casually increased the vibration level. As you were about to leave, the vibrations suddenly intensified, and you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips.

“Kya!!!”You gasped and stumbled a little, catching yourself against the doorframe. You felt your knees buckle and your body trembled, the pleasure overwhelming you.The sudden increase in intensity was too much for you to handle and before you could even leave the room, a loud moan escaped your lips.

The sudden outburst immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room, including the subordinates. They looked at you with a surprised expression, while Bruce just smirked. He knew damn well that you were only using it as an excuse to cover up your actual reason for moaning.

You squatted awkwardly on the ground, feigning a pain in your heel caused by the high heels you were wearing, knowing that it was a weak excuse, but it was all you could think of in the moment. "Sorry. These heels just don't fit right."

He tried to hold back his smile as he watched you make up an excuse for your outburst. He could see the way you were trembling slightly, the flush in your cheeks, and the way your eyes were unfocused. He leaned back in his chair, trying to look casual and unbothered, but his mind was racing with all the things he wanted to do to you.

Meanwhile, the subordinate looked at you, a little worried. "Are you okay," he asked tentatively.

You stood up as quickly as possible, feeling the wetness that had already started to soak through your thong. You tried to maintain a professional expression and a charming smile as you thanked the subordinate for their concern. “Thanks for your concern, now I have to excuse myself.”

As you left the room, he leaned back in his chair and watched you go, his eyes fixed on your ass just a bit too long. He could see the way you were walking, slightly unsteady and squirmy, and he knew that the toy was still running at full blast.

The sight of you leaving the room, desperate to get some relief, was driving him wild. He shifted in his seat, trying to suppress the thoughts that were going through his mind.

After the meeting was finally over, Bruce dismissed the subordinate and sat back in his chair, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of you. He leaned back in his chair and waited for you to return, wondering how you were holding up after the toy had been tormenting you for so long.

Thankfully you brought spare clothes with you, you returned to his office. When no one was around, you locked the door. You approached him, straddled his lap, and lifted his chin. “Such a naughty boss you are. You’re gonna make me squirt in front of others.”

His eyes roaming over your body. He let you lift his chin, tilting his head back to look at you better. He looked up at you with a sly smile. His hands moving to rest on your hips. “Can you blame me, though? You look absolutely gorgeous.”

You pouted acting like you angry and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. You asked him in playful tone. “Even I squirted in front of others?”

He chuckled at your playful pout, enjoying the way you tried to act mad. As you pressed a quick kiss on his lips, he couldn't help but smile. "Especially if you squir—“

He was cut off by a knock on the door, breaking the moment. He cursed under his breath, frustrated at the interruption. You chuckle at him especially when he makes that face, you tickling his chin with fingers and teasing him. “Aww, don’t be mad. Tonight my apartment. You still keep the key?”

He chuckled at your playful touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers tickling his chin. When you mentioned your apartment and the key. He looked at you with a mischievous smile, his eyes flickering with desire. “Tonight, then. I'll be there.”

— The End —

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andraxicated · 10 months ago

Text

No Hard Feelings

Pairing: zayne x f! reader

a/n: sitting pretty on my drafts since february. i love writing in this format it just lets your ideas flow | zayne is a harvard med alumni free from student debt cause he's rich and we all know it

inspired by one of my fav rom coms no hard feelings i swear its so funny

you are nothing but a broke college student looking for ways to make extra money. so what can you do when your friend shows you a totally suspicious ad?

"we are looking for a girl with experience to seduce our son and help him have a social life. preferably pretty. will be handsomely compensated"

you grab the opportunity after much thought and show up in the sluttiest dress to make sure you fit the 'girl with experience' part despite your v-card being intact.

and you never thought that you'd be sitting in a mansion's living room, listening to a rich mother yap about her worries for her beloved and only son's social life

"you see... it's because i'm deeply worried about our son! we are very proud he's doing well before going to medical school but it's summer and all his peers are going out on vacations, dating, and partying, but he doesn't seem to be interested in any of those since his time at university!"

let's say when you asked what he looked like and turned around to see a picture frame, you were instantly sold onto this 'fuck their son' plan

his parents said their beloved Zayne volunteers at the public park to tend to the flowers. he works under the hot son with his stoic face and meaty arms to which you space out a little.

imagine his surprise when his view got shadowed by your figure, looking up to see the expanse of your thighs, your boobs supported by a push-up bra. this was your best attempt at looking like a vixen

"heyyyy, can I touch your buds?" you giggle (cringing inwardly) and the rest is history.

Zayne didn't know what to fucking say but glare at you.

it was hard to get close to Zayne because that man was a brick wall. he was so reserved and quiet, always so serious despite your attempts at fun time. yet with every time you spent together, his walls break down bit by bit.

and when you saw a crack in his walls, you unknowingly tore it down along with yours.

because you are unexpectedly falling in love with him.

"I thought this was movie night" Both of you remove your tops amidst giggles and short kisses.

"Mhmm, you smell like Jasmines." Zayne pretends not to hear you as he rasps against your ear, kissing your neck as his fingers drag down to tug at your shorts and panty. You whine when he successfully removes it, cold air hitting your inner thighs as he shushes you through small, wet kisses.

"That perfume was on sale, I knew I had to buy it for you" You smile and Zayne mirrors it on his lips, making your heart skip out of your chest. He caresses your hips softly, dangerously inching closer to your core where you're positively throbbing.

"You know me so well. It's as if you were sent by someone for me."

You chuckle awkwardly, letting him trail down light kisses on your neck, all the way to your collarbones. His statement slaps you back to reality. That you were just a girl taking advantage of him and his parents' money. But with each kiss that matches with the beat of your heart, you feel that this acting of yours turned a little too real. You just wanted him between your thighs, lost in your body, drunk on your kisses, and never have him find out the truth.

Zayne looks up at you from an angle, wanting to ask for permission to dive in your pussy, but then he sees you spacing out, and it’s not the cockdrunk look he sees on porn videos. You looked sad and miserable while staring into nothing, he fears he might have bored you to death and he’s too much of a virgin to satisfy you. Zayne looked scared to snap you out of it, he lightly nudged your thigh, and your gaze finally shifted to him. You still haven’t gotten rid of that look yet.

“Sorry, let’s not do this today if you aren’t feeling well” zayne speaks softly while sitting up, the care evident in his eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to jump in his arms.

You shook your head, a smile on your face. “I’m sorry I killed the mood. Are you still hard?”

“What?”

“I mean, is your dick hard?”

Zayne looks down for a moment and replies, “Yeah…I’m hard”

You giggle and reach over to give him a peck. “Let me suck you off. You’ll feel good, I promise” You say as if you sucked dick before. You were quite nervous to put something in your mouth for the first time, fearing for your throat and untrained gag reflex. Also, Zayne looks pretty big from the way he’s tenting from his shorts, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Your heart was beating from your chest as Zayne sat with his legs on both sides of your body, presenting you with his aching bulge. You tug down his shorts along with his underwear and you see his big cock that he’s been hiding all along. Zayne flushes red on his ears and neck as you stare at his size in awe. The tip was angry and leaking, twitching occasionally as the man before you winced. Its girth was impressively thicker than your wrist and length longer than what you’ve seen in videos, this guy was above average. But before you could try to touch him, Zayne coughs up to get your attention.

You question him in your eyes and he blushes, struggling to get his words out.

“I-I want to make you feel good too. Can we try that position?”

“What position?”

“...69”

Zayne bites his lip, looking at your face for any sort of disgust but none came. A smile broke out on your face before you nodded, taking the initiative to adjust your positions accordingly. Zayne was taller than you so you had to be the one on top, your body tensing as you face his leaking cock staring at you. You wanted to put your mouth on it so bad but you knew you had to wait for Zayne to adjust at your bottom.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Zayne huffs out and you involuntarily clench, feeling his hot breath around your hole. You can’t help the heat that travels to your cheeks as you recognize yourself putting your ass up in the air for a man to gape at your hole. You could feel every bone in your body praying not to fuck this up.

“I’ll start,” You say, biting your lip and squinting your eyes before hurriedly starting the job. Your lips come into contact with the tip and Zayne moans, throwing his head back as you try to engulf him in your mouth. He feels you testing how your mouth glides up and down thanks to your saliva as lubricant. Zayne thinks he could burst right then and there in your mouth but he tries to at least save himself some dignity by not finishing through a 20-second blowjob.

He leans forward and settles his palms on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh experimentally, making you moan at his touches. His lips press outside your pussy, shying away from the main course before steeling himself with the courage of a man.

Choked moans left your mouth as Zayne suddenly parts your ass for a clear view and dives right in to fuck your hole with his tongue. He laps up like a man starved with eyes closed, executing toe-curling techniques that you didn’t know he could do.

“Nghh! Mmhphh!” You’re drooling on his dick, taking what you can of his size and pumping what you couldn’t reach. He’s too much of a big fit in your mouth, struggling to hollow your cheeks since most of your wet cavern is occupied by his cock. You could only bob your head up and down, moaning to get him feeling some vibrations, and rubbing your pussy along his lips.

On the other end, Zayne was having a very much-awaited make-out session with your cunt. He sloppily kisses your hole, circling his tongue as he tastes the softness of the flesh. His hands rubbing your ass in gentle motions causes you to clench and he groans, chasing the movement of your cunt. He does it like the boys do in those videos, he closes his eyes and imagines he’s doing a good job just like them, making their girl scream like it's the end of the world.

“So pretty” he pulls away mesmerized by your glistening cunt. Zayne couldn’t help but be addicted to your pussy, and he gives it more attention by sucking and playing around with his tongue. To hear your muffled cries sends vibrations down his spine, making him even more hard as your eyes widen.

You gasp for air as you fix your breathing. You wanted to complain about why he was getting bigger but you just couldn’t stop yourself from sinking deeper onto his cock. You’re positive you looked like a cockhungry slut with dick in her mouth, wiggling her ass as her man eats her out because that’s exactly what you’re doing, you could picture how dirty the position was and it makes you throb, edging you to your release.

No one was saying anything, too occupied with the job at hand as wet noises filled the room. Both of you were pushing each other at the brink of release. Zayne lightly thrusts to chase the feeling of a wet heat—challenging your gag reflex, not knowing it's your first time giving a blowjob. He suddenly hits the back of your throat as cum floods inside your mouth. You’re breathing through your nose, too full of erotic sensations, and you cum following his release. Wet spurts land on Zayne’s face as he drinks up your release, relishing in his first time making a girl cum.

You pull away from his dick, white semen landing on the bed from your mouth and Zayne’s eyes widen seeing you keeping his release inside your mouth. He thinks you probably didn’t want to swallow it so he grabs tissues, and places them below your chin.

“Spit it out”

You look at the tissue on his hand and swallow the cum, wincing as the taste hits you. You just wanted to do it like others do, swallowing because you worked hard for it. Zayne was flabbergasted to even move, his flaccid member unapologetically rising hard when he saw you swallow his seed.

It made him want to put it inside you.

“Why did you swallow?”

You wipe the excess off your face, “I just wanted to try” You hoped he didn’t catch on that it was your first time. Both of you were tired but you wanted to keep going, driven by lust. Zayne was trying to hide his erection and you decided to just get on with it, you wanted him inside right now.

“Zayne, do you want to be on top?” Your question left him surprised. He blinks for a few seconds before nodding and positioning on top of you as you lay down. Then it hits you.

“Wait, do you have a condom?”

He visibly freezes before reaching over to the bedside table, pulling out the drawer, grabbing a condom, and opening the package. While he puts it on, your eyes drift to the package and you notice the XL size and the ‘super ultra-thin’ inscription. You couldn’t help but be a little nervous after reading that.

“It’s on,” he says awkwardly, the tip of his ears reddening by the minute. At this moment, the air was thick with nervousness radiating from you and Zayne. You exchange eye contact with him as his palm rests on your hip, drawing circles to coax you and relax your walls.

“I’m ready, are you?”

“Yeah,” he kisses your lip to distract you from the pain of your cunt breached open by his thick cockhead. You wince in discomfort, legs shaking as the thickness stops moving. Zayne panics over your pained expression, whispering sweet nothings that it will pass soon because fuck, you are incredibly tight and wet. He almost moans at the sight of your hole struggling to take all of him.

You look down and let your head fall back onto his soft pillow. “Move”, you let out breathlessly.

“I’m too big for you, you need to adjust”

“Zayne, just move! Let me adjust when you’re inside me” You whine, wanting to have him inside you as soon as possible. Zayne complies and pushes in slowly, all his worries about med school and sex are completely gone when he buries himself to the hilt. You moan in unison, the stretch being painfully good for your first time.

It was the kind of pain that you’d willingly take because the pleasure was too much to lose out on. He stretches you out nicely, feeling every vein inside you, especially the tip that kisses your g spot. How did he find it in one go?

“You're so tight!—Shit” Zayne picks up on his space, letting his dick rub inside you before starting to thrust full-on. His hips smoothly roll as he pistons his cock in and out of your hole. Your wetness and the condom's lubricant make him move easily inside.

“Ohhh! Zayne!” You jolt towards the headboard as his grunts fill the room, his cockhead repeatedly locking in on your sweet spot, making you clench in response. His hair falls over his face, masquerading on his eyes as his hips put in the work for your pussy. He looks so pretty like that, flushed red, breathless, as he stuffs you repeatedly with his cock.

“Ahhhh, so big~” You could only moan and clench around his member, the movements making your boobs jiggle, and Zayne couldn't help but grope one of them—giving attention to the other by going down on his mouth. You just looked so pretty under him, so messy and good at taking his cock.

“My pretty girl” he huffs while bucking his hips into you.

Then he remembers that you probably had sex before him, and you have experienced other guys. And something deep within him tears its ugly head. Zayne suddenly had a primal urge to claim you, to make sure from now on, you're showing this lewd face to him and only him.

He was jealous and it wasn't a good feeling.

He pounds his cock faster, pouring all the anger he has into vigor. You scratch his back as Zayne goes feral at a fast pace fucking his cock back into your hole. You thrash in his arms from the pleasure, wanting to run away because the dick was too good. But his strong arms cage you in place as he ruts like an animal in heat.

His hand suddenly flicks on your clit, pinching the bud to edge you closer to your orgasm. He wanted to make you finish first, to feel your cum coating his length before he releases.

Your nerves were set on fire just as you think your brain is fried from too much dick. You wanted nothing but to cum and release the knot forming on your lower abdomen. He pumps exactly at a target in a frenzied state, balls swinging against your skin. Zayne continued to grunt, letting out the manliest sounds you've ever heard.

“Z-zayne I'm Cumming—Hahhh!!!” You scream as your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt spasming and dripping around his girth, body shivering from how hard it was. You feel like floating on cloud nine as Zayne leans down to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake.

“That's a good girl. Now take this.”

His pace gradually falters and he slides in one last powerful thrust before exploding his cum and flooding the condom. You cried out as he did small jerks of his hips to ride out his high while cumming buckets. You fear some cum may have slipped out but you didn't care to voice it out.

Zayne learned that it wasn't good to make you oversensitive so as soon as he finished, he took out his softening cock and watched your abused cunt close. He thinks It might have been his favorite sight.

The night ends with you receiving aftercare, drinking water, and cleaning up in the bathroom to make yourselves clean for bed. You didn't even know Zayne changed the sheets, which explains why he left the tub faster.

But as you lay in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, there wasn't any semblance of reprieve because of your anxiousness about the arrangement.

Sooner or later he would find out and everything would come crashing down. You'd go back to your own life, paying expenses thanks to the money you received while Zayne would also go on and continue to med school, fuck a few girls since he already had a taste with a girl who duped him for money.

Just thinking about that brings tears to your eyes. No, you don't wanna be separated from Zayne. You wanted whatever you had with him despite having no label.

You tried to tell him the truth a few times but fear got the better of you and you find yourself backtracking, saying something else, and laughing it off. Every moment was precious with Zayne, you couldn't cut his smiles short—it would break your heart to wipe off the soft love on his face.

So you did nothing but let time run its course.

Zayne soon expressed his want for you to meet his family. He feels like he's known you for a lifetime despite meeting just that summer. So you took his offer and had lunch with his parents who tried their best to act as if they first saw you that day. The food was delicious yet the whole dining experience was painful. You and his parents lying to his face made you unable to stomach the food very well. So you left the house and went to their garden, gazing at the flowers that you knew Zayne himself planted.

He was looking around for you, sighing since you didn’t tell him where you ran off. He was about to ask his parents in the dining room when he accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation that made him stop in his tracks.

“Well that was awkward, can you believe our son actually fell in love with her? I mean, she’s pretty skilled”

He wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“This isn’t what I was expecting when we hired her. I think we need to end this arrangement soon. I’ll give her the money before this situation blows up.”

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

Skilled? Hired? Money? It didn’t take an intelligent man to connect the dots as the conversation went on. Every word that came out of their mouth froze his heart and shattered it like glass. Anger, hurt, and confusion overwhelmed him for the first time in his life. He found it hard to stabilize his breathing. He couldn’t help but let hatred cover his eyes as he stormed into the dining room.

“Is what you’re saying true? You hired a girl to seduce me?” he demanded, voice shaking with emotion as his parents looked very much terrified to see him there. He didn’t want to believe it was true, but as the seconds went by it was all becoming clear that this was a big fat farce all along. Zayne didn’t know what hurt but he knew he’d been played by the people he loved. And that was all it took for him to break his promise of never raising his voice at his parents.

“Is it true?!” he roared and to see his mother flinch hurt him but at that moment, Zayne was the victim.

“Zayne, darling let me explain—”

“Why?”

His mother breathed out. “We thought it would be good for you. We wanted to let you have some fun since I feel like you’re constantly buried in books! You need to take some time to socialize too!”

He could only pinch the bridge of his nose as he steeled his mouth in case he said something he could not go back on.

“This conversation isn’t over yet” he uttered coldly, leaving his parents guiltily mulling over their actions.

Overcome by the need to confront you, he walks in long strides to the garden. He honestly does not know what he wants to hear from you. Apologies? Explanation? He doesn’t know but his feet take him to you and destroy your peaceful moment.

He sees your figure basking in rays of afternoon sun, checking on the flowers he planted. He stops and stares before storming and grabbing your wrist to make you face him. You meet his face in shock, body tensing from the dangerous aura he was emitting. His hazel eyes were swirling with hurt and you knew it was that time. Zayne knew how much you were playing him like a fool.

“Is it true?" he pants “That my parents hired you to seduce me for the summer? So that I could get with a girl and have some fun?”

Tears flowed from your eyes as you nodded shakily, accepting your fate. He was disgusted by how easily you admitted it. Was it that easy for you?

“I want to hear it from you. Speak before I kick you out” he spat out with so much venom that it wrecked sobs from you. Zayne hated hearing you cry just as he hated how this was such a cruel game you played.

“Zayne, it was all real. I swear! My feelings are real. It’s true that I accepted a deal with your parents for money but you have to know that I needed it!” You feel like ripping your hair out just to make him believe you. You were so desperate to not be a villain in his eyes. “And what I feel for you is real! I love you and I’m so sorry that I did this to you.” You sobbed, holding your face in your hands as you wiped the overflowing tears that clouded your vision.

You took a step forward and he took a step back, reflecting the hurt in your eyes.

“How do I believe you now? How do I know this is still not an act?”

“I don’t know…” You shook your head, mind at a loss for words. “I just know that it would kill me to be separated from you.”

Zayne could hear the desperation in your voice and it was constantly stabbing at his heart. He longed to believe and touch you, but the pain of deception stung deep.

He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Who are you? Do you have any other name?”

You whip your head in shock, shaking your head frantically. “No! (y/n) is my real name! Everything I told you is real!”

He stood frozen so you took your chance to explain, fighting the cries that shook your body.

“I love you. I-I wanted to give my body to the guy I love and it’s you. It was my first time having sex with you! I’m not some vixen who sleeps around. I’m just me!—a college student in need of money. Believe me, I beg you.”

It honestly didn’t matter to him if the girl he loved had his first time with him or not, he loved her regardless. But when you say it like that, he knew that trusting him with your virginity must have meant a great deal to you. That almost made him want to hug you but the rational part of his mind begged him to have some dignity.

“You broke my trust” he exhaled, barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much pain I’m feeling. But I love you…and it would kill me if you weren’t around.”

You take a step forward and grasp his hand to place on top of your heart, making him feel how much it beats for him.

He’s entranced to feel your racing heart, a testament to your love. This gesture was enough to repair a piece of his shattered heart.

He uses your interlocked hands to pull you into his arms, burying your face on his chest. You snuggled close as warm tears fell slowly on your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna leave” you cried softly.

“You’re not leaving until you make me trust you again. And if I trust you again, I won’t let you leave.”

You nod and ask, “What do you want me to do?”

Zayne cleared his thoughts even if his emotions were a mess. But he was an intelligent and rational man, he was able to think clearly in times of distress and he knew what needed to be done. He knows how you’ll pay for your sins.

“From now on, I want you to be honest with me. No lies or secrets between us. Tell me everything you feel because I want your full transparency.”

It was a light sentence and you were eternally grateful to the forgiveness he showed you. Because you'd die if he didn’t.

“I will. So let’s start on a clean slate please.” you grip his shirt, signaling him your desperation. “I’ll be that girl you met in the park. And you have to believe me when I say I loved you every step of the way. I-I won’t even take the money if it means proving my feelings are real.”

Zayne shook his head as he caressed your hair. ‘Take the money and promise me you won’t leave me. Don’t put yourself in a situation like this just for some money. If you need some, then ask me.”

“What?”

“If you need support I’ll be there to help you in any way I can. All I ask is for you to do the same for me.”

“Of course I will!” Your voice came out louder than intended and he smiled, yet not like he used to.

“But you’ll move to Harvard soon for med school? How-how are we going to do this?”

Zayne’s face fell at the mention of his move at the end of his vacation. He hadn’t forgotten but it was a reminder that summer was nearing its end. He had to settle all affairs before treading on a new chapter in his life.

He sighed, arms still around you. “Long distance isn’t easy, and I don’t know how we’ll do it.”

Fear crept into you like a snake dampening your mood.

“But,” he continued with a promising tone. “I’m not giving up on us. I won’t let a little distance come between us. We’ll make it work.”

‘We’ll make it”

“We will”

He whispers in your ears, kissing the top of your head, and bathing himself with the love that he receives from you.

You feared a second chance wouldn’t last long but if anything were the testament to your unbreakable bond with Dr. Zayne, it would be the family photo with you and the kids, standing nicely on his office desk.

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emmaxdelicate · 4 months ago

Text

THE GREAT WAR (part 2) | op81 x reader

summary: the aftermath of your fight with oscar

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!girlfriend!reader

warnings: use of y/n (one time) (if there is something else please lmk!!)

a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic, i reccomend reading it before this one!

word count: 1.3k

you shivered, but not from any cold. it was one of those statements that cut deep, they replayed in your head all of the time. how had it come down to this? the love that you two shared once felt unshakable. now, it felt fragile, like a glass about to fall off the edge of a table, ready to shatter completely with even just one little wrong move.

a soft knock on the bedroom door cut through your daydreaming, and you turned. the door creaked open a fraction, and Oscar's hesitant face appeared in the gap. he looked just as wrecked as you felt, his eyes rimmed red and his hair sticking up in messy locks. he must have been awake all night too.

"can I come in?" he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

you hesitated a moment before nodding slightly. he slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. he lingered near the doorway, his posture unsure, as if he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

"i didn't want to sleep," he began, "not while things are… like this."

you stared at him, your expression unreadable. he couldn't tell if it was hatred, worried, or regretful. "oscar. i don't even know where to start."

"then i will," he said quickly, taking a tentative step closer. he knelt to the floor across from you, his knees brushing against yours. his hands fidgeted in his lap; a nervous habit of hisyou knew all too well.

"i've been selfish," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "i've been so focused on racing, on trying to prove myself to the team, that i didn't stop to think about how much it was hurting you. i thought i was balancing everything, but i wasn't. i see that now.".

you looked down as your chest drew tight with the words. "Oscar. i never wanted you to give up your dream. i only wanted to feel like part of it.that I matter to you.".

"you do matter," he said, his voice full of fervor as he reached for your hands. he was almost hesitant to touch you, as if he was scared you would pull away, but you didn't. his fingers wrapped around yours, firm yet soft. "more than anything. and i hate that i've made you feel otherwise."

you looked down at your interlocked hands, his touch warming and grounding you. "it hasn't been easy," you whispered. "i've felt alone, lots of times. and I know it's not all your fault, but i didn't know how to tell you without feeling like I was asking for too much."

"you're not asking for too much," he said firmly. "you're asking for what you deserve. and I'm sorry i haven't given it to you."

he took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "i know words aren't enough to fix this. i need to show you that i'm serious, that i'm willing to fight for us. and will, y/n. i'll do whatever it takes."

the sincerity and regret in his voice were palpable, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope. but the wounds between you wouldn't be so easily healed.

"it's not going to be easy," you said quietly. "there's a lot we need to work through."

"i know," he said, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. "but i'm not afraid of the hard stuff. not if it means i get to keep you."

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and saw the vulnerability in his expression. you could barely look him in the eye like this. he wasn't just apologizing- he was laying his heart bare, putting everything on the line for you. it was a side of him you hadn't seen in a long time, and it reminded you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place.

"i don't want to give up on us," you admitted, your voice breaking. "but I can't do this alone, Oscar. i need you to meet me halfway."

"i will, baby, i promise. every step of the way."

neither of you spoke for a moment. then you leaned forward, your forehead against his, and his hands gently cupped your face as thumbs brushed the beginnings of tears away.

“i love you, so much” he said softly, his voice now steady and sure. “and i’m going to spend every day proving it to you.”

the succeeding weeks were far from ideal, but they reeked of small steps forward. oscar made good on his promises, calling when he was away each night, asking about your day, listening to your stories, and then sharing his own in return. simple as it may sound, that made a whole lot of difference.

when he was home, he tried to make time for you. he did little things that surprised you: a note written in his own handwriting tucked into your bag, your favorite flowers waiting on the kitchen counter. he even took a day off from training to spend the afternoon with you, something he hadn't done in months.

but it wasn't the gestures that mattered; it was how he had shown up for you, listened to and communicated with you, made sure you felt seen and valued. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were partners again, two people working together and not growing apart.

one evening, as the sun set over the city, you both sat out on your apartment's balcony. the sky was painted in shades of gold and pink, a cool breeze rustling through the air. you sat next to each other on a cushioned bench, hands intertwined..

"this is nice," you finally said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"it is," he agreed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "i've missed this."

"me too."

he turned to you, his expression thoughtful. "i've been thinking an awful lot lately about us- about what we've been through."

you cock an eyebrow, a small smile playing on the edges of your lips. "and what did you come out with, mr. Piastri?

he chuckled low in his throat, but his voice turned serious. "that i never want to take you for granted again. that i'm really lucky to have you, and i need to do better at showing it."

"you already are doing better," you said, squeezing his hand. "but it's not just about you, Oscar. i need to do better, too- at communicating, at being patient. this is a two-way road.

he nodded, his eyes shining with gratitude. "thank you. for not giving up on me. on us."

"i told you," you said, leaning your head against his shoulder. "you're worth fighting for."

he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "so are you."

as the city lights below began to sparkle, so did a feeling of peace finally settle over you. the storm that threatened to rip your heart apart had indeed passed, and in its calming, it left a love that was now stronger because it had survived the tempests.

you didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, you weren't afraid. you knew that with Oscar by your side, you could face any obstacle that came your way.

and that was all that mattered to you.

tags: @daemyratwst

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seoups · 5 months ago

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empty wallets- t. fushiguro

toji has no greater joy in life than spending the little money he has on you. song: empty wallets by 5sos

“LIVING OUR LIVES DANCING ON EMPTY WALLETS. SPEND IT ALL ON YOU.”

Toji never kept a penny for himself. He had a routine. Take a job that paid high sums of money. Come home. Treat you and the brat. Pay rent. And then live off the cash until he needed to get another job.

He never once let you pay for anything since you’d been together. The first date. Paid by him. Your second date. Paid by him. Every date after that. Paid by him. No matter how hard you tried to slide your card to the waiter, he always caught on. You’d stopped trying.

“Toji, let me pay this time.” “Not happening.”

Toji claimed that your money was your money. But his money was “our money”. And he made sure that wasn’t up for discussion.

The only exception to this rule was presents. But only because you’d insisted. But if it ended up being too expensive, he’d slip half of the price in your purse. In cash.

“Toji did you put cash in my purse again?” “Nope.” – His smirk betrayed his words.

He didn’t care that you made more money than him and certainly could chip in as much as you wanted to. He loved watching you be so carefree and not have to worry about money. He wanted you to be like that every day when you were with him.

He even paid for the three of you to go ice skating since ‘the brat’ wanted to go so bad and you were ready and willing to put down your card on the reservation.

“Please! I wanna go!” Megumi put his hands together, pleading with you and Toji. “Sure, Gumi,” you smiled, reaching for your card.

You pulled your credit card out of your pocket but were quickly cut off by Toji using his apple pay.

It wasn’t until you saw Toji’s credit card statement laying around the apartment that you found out what he’d been doing.

“Toji, are you serious? You drain your bank account and then take another job?” “It works for me. You got a problem with this arrangement, ‘ma?” “Yeah, Toji. I do.” “Well, I don’t.”

No matter how many times you brought the topic back up, he would ignore it each time, continuing to pay for everything. You hated it. You wanted to chip in- especially when he was paying the entirety of the rent when you weren’t even married.

But you knew why he did it. He’d never cared about money or possessions before. But he cared about you and Megumi. All he wanted was to make sure that you and Megumi never felt like you had to save up for anything.

And deep down, you loved him for it.

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alexa-yukiyu · 5 months ago

Note

Hello there this is a request from a friend (who doesn't have Tumblr) for a request for a Whitebeard Pirates x reader

A young 13 year old girl she knows Whitebeard is her father but she doesn't care, like she was a product of a one night stand, like she has his hair, strength, and haki,

Like she knows Whitebeard is her father but she doesn't make a big deal about it, like in a way she doesn't see Whitebeard as her father, (not in a hateful way of course), but she kinda sees him as a stranger, but in a good way

She's also has a devil fruit power, copy-copy fruit, that lets her copy another devil fruit though physical touch, she has train herself and study about other devil fruit powers, if in cause she counters one

Like if she tells anyone who her father was they would shock but she was just shrugged it off, not taking it seriously that, she is the only daughter of the World Strongest Man in the world

Like father like daughter she also has his physical strength and stamina, also you know about Whitebeard giant genes, yeah she also has it and is the same height as Ace, despite only being 13 years old

But when it comes in their personalities she was more laid back, even in serious situations, example: with her lack of reaction with also knowing that her father is the captain of the Whitebeard pirates, she really doesn't take anything serious

Mandatory Visits ( Whitebeard pirates x f!teen!reader)

A/N Two in a row??? :0 Let’s pray guys to keep the streak going, or at weekly streak 🤔. I don’t think I will keep the streak tomorrow, I need to do my exercises yall.Not sure how to feel about this one though guys, did I fell out or is it hitting?

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

“Dokucha, do you really have to go?” Luffy whined, looking down at the teen from the deck of the ship

“For the hundredth time, yes, I need to go, you know that,” she sighed as she began to work on ropes keeping the Mini Merry from drifting from the Sunny.

“You already went last week, though; why do you have to go again?”

“Luffy-nii, That was months ago.”

“So?”

“So the deal was that I need to check in every few months, or he comes here himself and won’t allow me back.”

“So let the old man come! I won’t let him steal my crewmates!” he growled out.

She lets out a sigh, but a small smile grows on her otherwise serious face at her captain’s antics.

“Don’t worry, Luffy-nii, he won’t steal me. All I have to do is check in, and I can come back.”

“You’re leaving?” A small voice piped from the Deck

“Oh, That’s right. You weren’t here the last time I had to do this, weren’t you, Chopper?” She questions, looking up at the reindeer

“I have to go to the Moby Dick.”

“The Moby Dick? The Whitebeards ship? What do you need to go there for?”

“The Old Man allowed me to leave the crew as long as I would check in with him and my brothers every few months,” She answered absentmindedly.

“Your dad is with the Whitebeard Pirates?” He questioned

“Hah? Her old man is Whitebeard,” Luffy said dismissively.

“Oh”

Dokucha watched as the statement slowly sank in, and Chopper’s features slowly morphed into one of horror.

"W-W-Whitebeard?!"

“Hmm, did I not mention it? Sorry, Chopper, I must have forgotten.

“You’ll be back in a week?” Luffy questioned, ignoring the existential crisis his doctor was experiencing

“Just like always,” she promised.

“Finally here,” she sighed, relieved, pulling the small vessel closer to the Moby Dick and tying them together to ensure that the Mini Merry didn’t venture off.

Once this was completed, however, a force landed on the small ship, violently swaying it against the waves. Dokucha rapidly activated her Devil Fruit, igniting one of her hands in fire. She then sent a fist to the intruder, only for her attack to be stopped by an equally fiery palm and a very familiar grin.

“You’re getting better at it, but you still don’t hold a candle to the original.” He laughed

“Ace-nii,” She sighed out, extinguishing her hand; the man in front of him mirrored her actions and opened his arms wide for the tall teen, grinning when she walked into them.

“I thought you would be out on a mission.”

“And miss my favorite sister visiting us? No way”

“Ace, I’m your only sister.”

“Therefore, my favorite one.”

Any Comeback the teen may have had is cut off by the voice of their eldest brother sounding from the deck above them.

“Alright, you two, enough of that, come on board; Pops is waiting for you, Dokucha.”

“I’m coming,” she called dismissively as she grabbed hold of the rope ladder. The man behind her once again copied her movements and watched as she turned around to address him.

“You really think I got better at copying your fruit?” she questioned, a tinge of nervousness behind her words.

“You have; last time you visited, you were only able to make a few sparks, pretty weak sparks if you ask me,” He answered, letting out a few snickers.

“Alright, no need to be a jerk about it,” She called, rolling her eyes as she continued climbing up the ladder, a proud smile taking over her features, taking a hold of Marco’s outstretched hand, letting out a small squeak as he quickly pulled her over the railing and crashing against him, letting out a laugh as he did.

“Are you getting smaller?” he teased, looking down at her.

“You’re an even bigger jerk, Marco-nii,” she deadpanned, glaring up at the man.

“I’ll have you know I am quite tall for my age. Give me another year, and we’ll see who’s gonna laugh last,” She growled, pushing him away.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear the noise you let out,” he called out teasingly.

“Shut up!” She growled and stomped her way to the upper deck, where she knew she would her father would be

“Alright, you old Man, here I am.”

“Still as insolent as ever, you damn brat,” he barked, narrowing his eyes at her remark, a heavy fist hitting the side of his chair as he spoke his words.

“And you are as brittle as ever. Don’t move too much there; you might dislocate a bone. Heard it is common at your age,” she shot back, matching the glare that was sent his way

This continued for a while, with neither side wanting to back down until a smile broke into the giant’s face, a booming laugh escaping him soon after

“You have certainly grown in the past months, but you are still as cheeky as you were. Have you decided to stay?”

She scoffs at this

“Dream on; I don’t care if you are my flesh and blood; I am a Mugiwara trough and trough, and nothing will change that.”

“You’ll change your mind one of these days, child, and we will be waiting with open arms for the day.”

Kind of incomplete end but I really din’t know where to take it but I wanted to include Whitebeard for you guys, I almost just deleted it and left it to brotherly exchanges

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@dreaminganimelove

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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The Gray Woman 4

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: To those who didn’t help me resist this beast, I blame you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You hand over the statement and send off the client with ‘have good day’. The recitation is lifeless, meaningless as it leaves your lips on habit alone. It’s all by rote. Greet them, figure out what they want, and get them out.

Your next customer steps up as you take a chug of cold coffee. A glimmer of recognition flickers in your head and you squint at his reddened eyes. Oh, you know this man. Well, you’re aware of his existence.

“Hello, sir, how can I help--”

“Shut up,” he scowls. “You serious with the hello bullshit? Look at my eyes?”

You blink and put your cup down, “did you try milk?”

“Milk?! Milk? You fucking burnt my retinas out.”

“Are you having issues with your sight--”

“That’s not the fucking point. You—You remember me now, don’t you?”

“You grabbed me. I reacted,” you shrug. “If you’re only here to yell at me, I’ll need to call security--”

“Fuck security,” he steps up and his nose almost touches the glass. He snarls, “do you understand who I am? How many ways I can fuck you? Figuratively and literally?”

You stare back at him dully. You deal with people yelling about their money every day. You’re desensitized to their threats. To their chagrin. Do they really think you care? That you have any sort of emotion tied to this job? It pays the bills.

“Would you like to make a transaction today or--” You move your hand under the desk.

“Don’t you fucking hit that button, sweet cheeks. I’m not going to do anything. Not here. You think I’m fucking stupid?” He growls as he jabs the glass between you. “No, I want you to see what the fuck you did and why I’m going to do worse to you.” He makes a fist and hits the barrier. “And you’re going to fucking remember me.”

You keep your hand on the edge of the counter. You sit up and look around him, “I have other customers to help. Please step aside.”

He scoffs and thumps on the glass again. “You’re a real fucking piece of work. You let this bullshit job go to your head? Why? Cause you can hit a few keys on a computer? Money’s still in my accounts, honey. You’re nothing. I could buy you a hundred times over and still have as much left.”

You exhale and look at him as you wave up the next person in line, “unfortunately, it doesn’t appear that money can buy class.”

He stomps as the waiting client hesitate, “you can come up. We’re done.” You beckon them again with your fingers then reach for your cup again.

He looms as the woman comes up to your woman. He’s close enough that you feel your discomfort. You give him a look as take her card.

“Sir, you need to go.” You warn him.

He puffs and shakes his head. He tuts and paces back then toward you again. He stops as if he only then notices the woman watching him in horror. He throws up his hands then marches away.

“Sorry, about that,” you say to the woman. You take her card and swipe it.

“No, I’m sorry. Must be horrible to deal with that at work,” she replies as she touches her cheek and glances over her shoulder.

“Money is very personal,” you utter. “How can I help you today?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she assures. “I’m just adding a new payee to my account. I switched phone providers but their online portal isn’t working for me...”

You nod and help her through the process. As promised, she’s quick. The rest of your day is not. You can’t help but check the clock repeatedly. It’s almost the weekend. So close yet so far away.

As you get down from your chair at the end of your shift and grab your bag, Veronique approaches. You face her as you hitch up your purse. It’s unusual for her to come to you. Ever. She hides at her desk, more interested in her phone than her management role.

“Before you go, I’d like a word.”

You frown. This can’t be good. You rely on predictability. You could drown in it but it’s easier than change. Easier than the unexpected.

“Sure,” you agree and follow her as she spins on her heel.

You trail her strut into a back office. One of the executives is there. Gerald, you think? He doesn’t bother with you either.

“Please, shut the door,” he greets you. You do as he says and Veronique perches herself behind his shoulder like a parrot. “Have a seat.”

Wary, you cross the office and sit in the stiff seat. It squeaks as you stay on the edge. You cradle your bag in your lap. Veronique grins then wipes it away as she clears her throat.

“You’ve worked here for more than ten years.” Gerald states. You confirm. “A long time. Must get dull.”

“It’s work, sir,” you say.

“You haven’t moved up much. Typically yearly raise but nothing extravagant,” he looks at his lit monitor. “You work for base pay. Not very much, yet you handle a lot of money, don’t you?”

Your heart picks up. You can’t remember the last time you felt anything like this. That you were uncertain. Everything was always the same. Go to work, go home, sleep, wash, rinse, repeat.

“Sir, I do my job and I do it by the book.”

“Do you?” He tuts as he leans back and clicks around. “Because we’ve had some discrepancies brought to our attention. On a particular account. A client you’ve dealt with several times, and according to Veronique, you’ve had as many issues with.”

You shake your head in confusion.

“No, I don’t... no.”

“He was here today. Mr. Hansen? We were just reviewing some footage from his last visits and his statements. There’s some really strange back and forths here.”

You sit up even higher, “sir, no. It can’t-- I did exactly as he requested. All I did was ask for his ID.”

“Veronique,” he looks up as his tone turns to disinterest.

“We have the evidence. We’re submitting a report for investigation. You will be suspended. Beginning immediately.”

Her lips curve again. Your chest turns to a pit and you puff out in disbelief. This can’t be. How could they have proof when you did nothing?

“Security is waiting outside to escort you from the premises,” she continues with a catlike smirk.

You look between her and Gerald. He’s already distracted by his phone. “How about the steak house, V?” He swivels to her. You’re dismissed by the back of his balding head.

You get up and clutch your bag to your stomach. You turn and march to the door. As you exit, two uniformed men await you. They walk on either side of you, past other tellers and several managers. You’re mortified.

How could this happen to you? You have a feeling Veronique is behind it but why? She ignores you, like everyone else. What could she possibly get out of this?

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #drabble #the gray man #the gray woman

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hkthatgffan · 3 months ago

Note

What are your thoughts on the Pines parents? Particularly since the reveal of them having marital issues in TBOB?

I'm pretty conflicted tbh. Part me finds the revelation interesting and a pretty insane new layer to add on to the show's established canon, but I also feel like it could be another case of Gravity Falls fans taking flour and trying to predict what kind of buffet Alex is cooking.

In the case for the assumption this is hinting at the twin's parents having marriage issues and going towards say, a divorce, we have small hints in series that could be assumed as that, from Dipper's initial worry of leaving Mabel alone in Cali without him, Mabel's own fears of growing up without Dipper and the future itself, the abruptness as it sounds of them being sent to Gravity Falls, etc.

Of course, we also have the fact that Alex Hirsch's parents themselves are divorced IRL and him and Ariel grew up with their mom. And as they both are the inspiration for Dipper and Mabel, this can be a case of Alex hinting at that and adding another element of his life to them.

It course also somewhat goes counter to his past statements about how we never really are gonna learn anything about the twin's parents, because he doesn't see them as characters we need to know about as the story is focused on the twin's in Summer with Stan and Ford (I mean, all we initially knew was that their dad worked with computers and got Mabel's night shirt at a Windows 95 event, lol). So, adding this to the pot does feel like a pretty major change in direction.

That said, on the other hand, it could just be that...marriage issues the two of them are working to fix. Perhaps they sent the twins away while they sought couples therapy or something to mend things before the kids got back. We can also make the assumption Dipper may have overheard something that he mistook as being more serious than it was.

I say this from personal experience. I've often overheard arguments or pretty heated stuff my parents were yelling about that I probably was not supposed to hear or assumed the wrong thing about and it left me worried about if well...you know. Thankfully that never was the case and as I've gotten older I've come to better understand that sometimes parents fight but they can resolve things on their own in time. Though as kids, that shit can scare you, especially someone at Dipper's age. And while not all parents probably can resolve those matters the same way, it's always a possibility worth assuming here, especially with the little info we know. I mean, Bill said "Why do you think they were in such a rush to get the kids out the door for the summer?" It sounds like he's asking us fans to make our own guess on that.

And speaking of Bill...there's the Bill factor to consider too. Remember, who wrote this?

BILL CIPHER! And Bill is about as reliable a source for accurate info as the US government or Doug Ford is when it comes to Line 5 or why he REALLY closed the Science Centre (IYKYK).

Many fans doubt the truthfulness of what Bill said in the book. So, he could just be making this up and Dipper may never have had that dream to begin with. Of course, it would be weird for Alex to make a book full of lies about the show, but then...this is Alex Hirsch we're talking about.

Personally, I believe Dipper did have this nightmare and he overheard something intense. But as to what it's alluding to...I'm not sure.

I think this is another case of Alex Hirsch leaving the question open ended. What's up with the twin's parents? That's for us fans to decide.

If you believe they're divorcing, you can. If you think it's nothing and Dipper is over-worrying about an argument his parents had, you can. And if you think it's BS and Bill made it up, you can too.

That's again the beauty of Gravity Falls leaving itself open ended. Every headcanon and theory is possible. I mean, fans believed for years Bill was in Stan's mind till this very book killed that theory off for good.

Maybe in several years if Alex decides to, he'll expand on this plot point and answer the question once and for all. But for now, what the deal with Dipper and Mabel's parents is, will remain...

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theseerasures · 3 months ago

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(obligatory note that the footage does not usually look like this; i'm trying to reduce the washout on Laurel's face to make a point)

every time we watch Wicked Leah and i play a game of "how gay is it" during this part, because it does feel pivotal for Gelphie to fumble toward acknowledging what their relationship actually is here, before everything goes to shit. in my head the way it goes in the Original Cast Recording is that Elphaba takes the leap: Idina says two good friends so hesitantly, like she's worried just by calling it anything she's ruining what they have, and Cheno's Glinda responds with a warm reassurance. that's basically how it remained for some time, with Glinda's answering affirmation being on the whole more platonic, if equally emotional.

then at some point the onus shifted onto Glinda to Make It Gay. my intellectual self wants to say Kendra or Annaleigh started this trend, but since my insanity began with Katie (and Willemijn) she comes to mind first. there's always a moment right before friends where she wavers, which communicates two major things. the first, which is constant no matter her scene partner, is that Glinda feels the weight of this moment. all Glindas have to seriously acknowledge Elphaba's feelings to some extent here so they can assure/assuage them, but Katie always seems to extend the fragility her Elphaba displays rather than dispelling or shifting it. instead of Glinda assuring Elphaba that Elphaba is doing this right, we get the sense Glinda equally wants to get this right--but she's not certain how to do it either.

it can get lost because she's a serious Glinda in general, but what's unique about Katie's Glinda is how seriously she takes the project of understanding Elphaba. the most obvious example is with "i told you a really good one" during Popular, where Galinda is so fixated on WHY Elphaba would have these feelings she ends up neglecting them altogether, but there are some additional subtler moments in One Short Day. you just get the sense that Katie's Glinda is constantly on the verge of asking ten million followup questions about Elphaba, TO Elphaba, at this point in the show. she was wrong about Elphaba when they were enemies, which culminated in her being so cruel while Elphaba was kind; now she's going to learn everything about her new friend, so that whatever Elphaba does in the future she can respond in kind, with equal magnitude. (which, again, reads SO autistic for me.)

the second thing, which feeds from the first, is that if Glinda is as serious and vulnerable as Elphaba here, then the exact nature of Glinda's hesitation before friends alters depending on the Elphaba. as Wicked has aged (and Glindas have gotten gayer) Elphabas have accordingly shifted two good friends towards a statement of overwhelmed gratitude. she's still tentative about their friendship, but friendship is the sole realm she can even imagine at this point. in those cases Glinda's pause before friends turns into this neat reversal, where GLINDA now wants more (romantical) things out of their relationship but is shy about revealing her hand, because she's not sure Elphaba will reciprocate or because it's not fair to put that on Elphaba per the terms of their relationship. it's a super nice reading if you want a pining Glinda for a straight/oblivious Elphaba...

but that's not really what's happening here, because Laurel's Elphaba isn't just in love with Glinda. she seems pretty cognizant of it, too, so two good friends becomes a retreat from them being more than "good friends" in two distinct ways. it's an echo of Idina's hesitation with more explicit romantic intent, and her face afterwards betrays this very heartbreaking certainty that nothing Glinda offers back could be enough, because SHE wasn't brave enough in the first place to tell Glinda how she really feels. which would be bleak enough in itself, but played against Katie's Glinda--this empathetic tryhard who studied the Elphaba while she was supposed to be heterosexual--it becomes downright tragic. because Glinda KNOWS Elphaba is holding something back here. she knows that when Elphie makes that face she's worried about being hurt. and she knows, by now, that asking why immediately might make Elphaba hide more and ruin everything, so she's just going to have to guess. she says two best friends, because that IS what they are, but it doesn't feel like enough. she wants to acknowledge the thing Elphie can't say, even if she hasn't figured out yet what it could possibly be. she's going to try, though; not just for Elphie, but because she feels it, too.

and how could that not feel like a revelation for Elphaba? even the best case scenario she refuses to let herself think about, where Glinda reciprocates her feelings, would have come with the painful rawness of being seen through. but Elphaba could have never imagined this incipient possibility: that uncertainty can be something you relish, as opposed to something you fear. that she could be relished and not feared. they're not there yet, but that's the thing, isn't it? yet. and Glinda is going to try--Elphaba is certain of that much, now. they might get there, which feels like everything. they might, with time.

and why wouldn't they have enough time?

#(the wizard will see you now!)#wicked #helen liveblogs #helen writes meta

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gratelove · 1 year ago

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You Didn’t Tell Me

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: 18+, sexual intercourse, oral, sweet Peter, rough, fluff

You’re Peter’s best friend and he has seemed distant recently. You try to confront him about it and it turns into an argument. You go to his house to make up, and find him coming home as Spider-Man. This leads to reader and Peter getting steamy.

“Hey Pete, I was thinking we could hang out after school? You could come over and we can maybe have a movie night?” You ask your best friend, Peter Parker. You are both walking through the crowded halls on the way to your next class.

“I can’t tonight.” Is all he says. He won’t make eye contact with you and as you watch him, he licks his lips nervously, running a hand through his soft, brown hair. You’re walking so close to each other that your shoulders bump every once in a while. You can smell a faint scent of cologne. The cologne he always wears that you love so much.

“Why not?” You stare at him, stopping in your tracks. You can feel yourself starting to get frustrated, but you try to keep your cool. Peter has been dodging you for the last few weeks. You used to hang out every day after school. Whether it was studying, watching movies, or just talking for hours. He’s the only person that you could genuinely talk to forever about nothing in particular. All you know is that you miss your best friend.

“Because I’m… Im busy. I promised May we’d go out to eat.” You both move out of the center of the busy hallways and you lean against a locker, raising your eyebrow at his statement.

“Really?” You know that’s a lie and now your blood starts to boil.

“Yes, really.” Peter says, still continuing to avoid eye contact.

“May texted me this morning. She asked me if we were hanging out tonight. She said she’s worried because she hasn’t seen me over there in weeks. Why are you lying to me Peter?” Your fingers tighten around the school books in your hand.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry. I just can’t tonight.” Peter turns his back to you and continues down the hall.

“Why won’t you tell me? We tell each other everything!” You catch up to him, walking fast, trying to keep up with him.

“I really can’t do this, Y/N. Please just leave it alone.”

“No! If I did something wrong, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to be my friend, just say so! Don’t just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist!” Peter turns in front of you, stopping all movement.

“I just don’t have time for you!” Peter yells. A couple people walking by stare as they go. You are filled with embarrassment as you see others eyes on you. “Im sorry, Y/N. I just can’t do this right n-“

“It’s fine.” Tears pool in your eyes and you take a deep breath. You push past him, hitting him with your shoulder. You wipe the tear falling down your cheek and head to your next class.

——

You’ve had all day to think about the argument you had with Peter and decide that you should go talk to him. There is obviously something going on, and you’ve always told each other everything, so this must be serious. Instead of pushing him away, or getting mad at him, you should just be there for him as his friend. You decided that you are going to go straight to his house to talk to him and apologize for pressuring him to talk.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and May answers. She smiles and give you a big hug.

“Hey sweetheart! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” You smile and step inside, as May closes the front door.

“Hey May, is he here?” You ask, looking at the stairs that lead to Peter’s room.

“No, but you’re more than welcome to wait for him. Did you want anything to eat?”

“No, thank you. I’m just going to do some homework in his room.” You head up the wood stairs, a couple of them squeak as you go up. You get to his room to see clothes thrown on the floor and paper scattered on his desk. This is unusual for him. He usually keeps his room clean and tidy. You pull out your laptop and starting writing an essay for class. You do this for what feels like hours.

——

Several hours later, you have finished your paper, and are just scrolling through your phone. It’s dark outside and you look at the time. It’s almost 11:00 at night.

Suddenly, you hear the bedroom window being pulled open. Your heart starts to race and grab the first thing your hand touches, which is a clock, and you prepare to throw it at an intruder. You soon realize the mystery person crawling through the window is Peter… in a Spider-Man suit? Is he?

“Peter?” He quickly turns around as you drop the clock to the floor in shock. Your eyes widen. “Your-your Spider… You’re Spider-Man?” He pushes a small spider emblem on the center of his chest and the skin tight suit starts to fall from his chiseled shoulders.

“No no no. I’m not. No I’m not.” Peter says frantically. He’s left in just a pair of boxers as he stands there with a horrified look on his face. Sure that your expression matches, you sit on the edge of his bed.

“How is that possible? How are you… I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” You shake your head and Peter walks over to you, sitting next to you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted you to be safe. I was afraid if you knew, that you would be in danger. I was also told not to tell anyone. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He puts a hand on your thigh and you feel tingles shoot through your body.

“I was so scared that you didn’t want to be my friend.” You put your hand over his and he smiles.

“I honestly couldn’t live without you. I was only willing to if it meant you were going to be safe. I’d do anything to make sure that happens. I wanted to tell you more than anything, but I was scared.” Your stomach flutters at his words as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You lean into his hand and smile. You have always had a small crush on Peter. One that you would never tell him about because you wouldn’t want to lose him or ruin your friendship. Right now, those feelings are stronger than ever. “You know, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… oh god.” Peter pauses and takes a deep breath.

“Hey, you can tell me anything.”

“You say that, but you have no idea what I’m going to say. Y/N, I’ve loved you for the longest time.” You are taken back at Peter’s confession. You never once thought you’d hear those words. You never thought your feelings would ever be reciprocated.

“I- Peter-“

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Pete puts his head in hide hands. “Spider-Man gives me a stupid sense of confidence.” He shakes his head and you giggle. You pull at his wrists so that the beautiful brunette boy is forced to look at you. His face is bright red in embarrassment. You grab both sides of his cheeks and kiss him. You feel his hands wrap around your waist and slightly squeeze. You pull away and look into his sweet brown eyes. A large smiles spreads across his face. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for too many years.” You both giggle and you feel his warm breath across your cheeks.

“Then do it again.” He stares at you for a moment, and then your lips are connected again. You tug lightly at his curls as he deepens the kiss. His hands run down your neck until they find them hem of your shirt. He lips trail down your cheek, then your jaw line, until they find the crook of your neck. His fingers play with the fabric, and you lift your back up slightly, giving him the cue to pull your shirt off. Peter stares at your chest. Your breasts pool slightly over your pink, floral bra from holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Do you want to?” He asks, continuing to stare at you in awe. His voice is shaky as he asks. You can tell he is nervous. You know he is a virgin.

“Do you want to? This’ll be your first time. Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask and watch his expression. He face turns red with embarrassment and you giggle. “It’s okay if you’re nervous. I just want to make sure that this is what you want.”

“It is what I want. I want you so badly, Y/N. I’ve wanted you for years.” You grab the back of Peter’s neck and connect your lips together. He moans into the kiss. You stop kissing and shove your hand against his chest.

“Roll over.” You smile and he follows your instructions. You are now straddling him. You go for his neck and start sucking at the skin, hopefully leaving bruises. Peter moans underneath you and you can feel yourself start to get wet. You run your fingers over his abs and slowly make your way down his abdomen with your mouth. Your lips connecting with his warm skin until you reach the top of his thin, black boxers. He’s bulging out of the thin fabric, and you run your hand over his hard cock. Your fingers play with the hem as you kiss his penis through the cloth. “Pull your boxers down.” Peter does as you instruct, and soon he is laid before you, naked. His length rests against his stomach. You take him in your hand, wrapping your mouth around his tip. You slowly swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip. You watch as Peter’s eye roll to the back of his head, and he throws his head back against the pillow, letting out a soft moan. He is large and you know you won’t be able to fit his whole cock in your mouth without choking. You let your saliva run down his member and use your hand to start jerking him off. While your hand is rubbing his length, you use your tongue to run circles around his tip.

“Oh fuck, Y/N.” Peter pants. His legs are tensing underneath you, and you feel precum leak onto your tongue. “Y/N, that feels amazing.” You pick up your pace, moving you hand faster, up and down his shaft. His moans start to get louder. “Oh, I’m going to cum.” Just as Peter says that you pull your mouth off of him, leaving him confused and so close to orgasm.

“Condom?” You ask and Peter frantically pulls open the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a small purple package and peels it open. You watch as he fumbles with the rubber in his fingers, eventually grabbing it from him. You line the opening up with his cock and slide it down, making sure to apply pressure. He gives you a small moan and a smile pulls at your lips. You unclamp your bra, exposing your breasts. You stand up and unbutton your jeans, pulling them down with your panties. Peter is staring at you. You climb on top of him, kissing him hard. “I’ve thought about you inside me so many times. I’ve fingered myself to the thought of you fucking me, Parker.” You grab both of his hands and put them on your breasts. You line him up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him. His large member stretches you. Your rest your forehead on Peter’s, and you both let out a moan.

“You feel so tight, Y/N.” Peter groans. His hands find your hips and he squeezes them tight as he lifts you up and down. Your hands grab the headboard and you pick up your pace. You bounce up and down on his hard cock, both of you moaning in sync. Peter takes one of your breasts in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. Biting it slightly, you thrown your head back, moaning loudly.

“Fuck Peter, you cock feels so good.” In two seconds you are flipped onto your back, Peter now on top of you.

“Can I go harder?” Peter asks and you nod your head. His hands grip at your hips even tighter than before. Peter’s pace picks up compared to when you were on top. His cocks is pounding into you, and you put your hand over your mouth, muffling the screams that try to erupt so May doesn’t hear.

“Fuck, Peter! Oh my god!” You scream through your hand. You see sweat drip down his chest and flow between the shape of his abs. Pieces of brown curls stick and bounce off his glistening forehead. His brown eyes watch as yours are thrown back with the feeling of him pounding you into the mattress. “Im gonna cum.” You grab the back of his neck, wrapping your legs around him, and yank at his hair.

“Me too baby.” He moans and just as you both release you hear a crack and you both drop. You yelp and look around to see one of the bed’s legs snapped. Peter and you lock eyes and then burst into laughter.

“I’ve never been fucked like that before.” Peter chuckles.

“I’m still figuring out how to control my new strength.”

“I think you have it pretty under control.” He raises an eyebrow and kisses you softly.

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