#my other friends were jim and pam | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chloeangelic · 2 years ago

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the paper salesman

Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader Rating: 18+ My masterlist I Max's masterlist

Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.

Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.

A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.

Word count: 6k

You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year.

There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile.

But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.

Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.

He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then.

You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town.

He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back.

Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.

“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.

You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.”

You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment.

“Salesman of the year?”

“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours.

“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”

Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.

“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.

You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.

You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?”

He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.”

Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone.

“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”

You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”

“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…”

“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?”

Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”

You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.

He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”

You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.

You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.

“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”

He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”

You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.”

The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt.

When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”

He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.

You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door.

“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror.

“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door.

“And that’s my room.”

“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed.

Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”

You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”

Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.

You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.

He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.

“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.

You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk.

Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.

You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.

You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.

He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes.

There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you.

Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”

He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button.

You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp.

He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.

Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.

Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.

You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.

“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties.

He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him.

You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.

“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.

He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.

Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.

He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him.

Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.

Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.

Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up.

“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.”

Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick.

You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening.

You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.

“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”

“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.

“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach.

Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door.

He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax.

You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips.

Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”

“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”

“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread.

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.”

Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.

“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist.

“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.

You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.

“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night.

“More than just sex.”

“Oh.”

“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”.

You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek.

“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.”

“Sure… In a bit.”

#jim halpert x reader #jim halpert imagine #jim halpert fic #jim halpert fanfic #the office fanfiction #jim halpert

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thetrialsandtribulationsofeb · 2 months ago

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buddie are literally enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, colleagues to lovers, co-parents to lovers, soulmates, twin flames, found family, matching traumas, missing pieces, second chance, star-crossed lovers, “take me to church”, “sailor song” and “guilty as sin” kind of forbidden love - but also childhood sweethearts and high school crush kind of love, they’re “no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her” and “you’re a cowboy like me” type of love, partners in crime, will-they-won’t-they, long distance relationship, slow burn lovers

they fit every single box

not making them canon would be the most lackluster, anticlimactic writing choice ever

if monica and chandler, robin and barney, nick and jess, amy and jake, booth and brennan, jim and pam and all the other similar tv couples were able to have it, then buddie deserves to have it too

i won’t settle for friendship, ’cause it’s not enough, not in this case

i love how they kept highlighting their friendship in seasons 7 and 8 - all the cute, silly, and serious aspects of it - to show how great they are for each other

and i’d like to say that even if they stay just best friends for the rest of their lives, it’s still beautiful… but not really. because from what i’ve seen on my screen through all the seasons, they won’t be able to. because chemistry is rare, and when it happens, it’ll blow up eventually

maddie saw it. tommy saw it. hen and chimney probably speculated. bobby and chris might not have fully understood it, but they felt it. a big chunk of the audience saw it from the very beginning

and i just want to see it with my own eyes, for once. i want the story to reach its logical conclusion

#buddie #but if bobby is actually dead then i want to see it in season 9 #cause not making buddie canon after everything they planted would be the second most stupid decision - after killing off bobby #but making them canon too soon would be even worse #i hope this is all just a big prank and we’ll get a satisfying story out of this #cause if not the writers are just killing the show and themselves with their decisions #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #911 #911 abc #911 show #anti bucktommy #911 thoughts

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feyhunter78 · 1 year ago

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Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights

Art Cred: Kimmy_art0912 on Insta! Description: Among pulsating music, colorful lights, and a few girls who can't keep their eyes to themselves tensions rise, and your patience has finally run out. Happy Valentine's Day my loves!

The music is loud, blaring through the speakers, vibrating through the floor, multicolored lights spin, casting circles of neon colors across the walls of the bar. The smell of spilled drinks and perfume fills the air as you enter, your hand gripping Miguel’s bicep as you scan the room for Janey.

It’s been…a bit weird since your encounter in Miguel’s room a few weeks ago. At first, you were afraid you’d fucked up, that you had overstepped and ruined your friendship, but then it all kinda went back to normal. As normal as the tentative relationship between two people who almost kissed could be.

When you invited him to be your date for your sorority’s semiformal, on Valentine’s Day no less, you were so very afraid. What if he said no, what if everything you thought you saw, that you felt back in his room was all in your head? Which is why you said as friends right as he said yes. No going back then, so you—like a coward—played up the platonicness of it all, and tried to pretend like you weren’t avoiding eye contact.

Then everything got even weirder with the whole Ava thing. You swore up and down to everyone��except Mina—that you and Miguel are purely platonic, even when you gave him the cold shoulder and cried over him talking with his ex. Super embarrassing, no one but Miguel potentially believed you, and now you’re in a prison of your own making. You should’ve just grabbed him when he came to your door to apologize, should’ve kissed him when he stood in your room admiring his costume. Why didn’t you?

One of your sisters drifts by, bumping into Miguel, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she apologizes.

Right, that’s why, because you’re jealous and insecure and can’t stand to see other people flirt with him. So it’s better to just keep your distance so you don’t end up crying again.

Miguel’s bicep is solid under your grasp, so large your hand can’t even grip all of it.

The theme of the night was Great Lovers of History, which was a fancy way of saying dress like your favorite couple. It wasn’t hard to pick a costume, you, and Miguel both love the novel Dracula, even if it wasn’t as popular as the movie was. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making some undignified noise when you saw how good Miguel looked. Those stupid huge muscles bulging, his broad chest, his toned back, he somehow made the ridiculous costume look impressive, and he even wore red contacts to get that perfect vampiric look.

You of course looked hot as hell, dressed in a flowy, but scandalously low cut white dress, hair curled and bouncy. Bram Stoker had never named Dracula’s Brides, but there was one, seemingly the eldest, that he favored over the other, so you decided to claim her role for the night.

“I don’t see Janey yet, she said she was already here.” You yell over the music, throwing a smile to one of your sisters as she passes by with her date. They’re dressed like Jim and Pam from The Office, it’s cute, a bit basic, but cute.

“Maybe she’s at the bar?” Miguel suggests leaning down to hear you better as he guides you through the crowd.

You can see people’s eyes on him, drinking him in, and feel another stab of jealousy. You know he looks hot, but he’s your date, not theirs. They can keep their eyes to themselves.

Janey and her date Eddie are dressed like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcey. You spot them immediately, right at the bar where Miguel suggested they might be.

You gush over Janey’s outfit, and she gushes over yours, and for a while that’s it. It’s a nice night, you drink, have fun with your friends, dance with Miguel, try not to feel insane over the number of times you have to remind someone that Miguel is here with you, and generally have a good time.

Then someone starts crying. It’s a new member, one whose Big is currently more interested in making out with her boyfriend in one of the bar’s booths than paying attention to her Little.

The new member, Addy, has tears in her eyes and mascara running down her cheeks as you usher her towards the bathroom, promising Miguel you’ll be back as soon as someone is able to break Danika away from her boyfriend.

You dry Addy’s tears while she tells you that she’s just so overwhelmed. That she brought the guy she has a crush on with her, but he seems more interested in one of the other girls in her new member class than her.

“And then Kaley said, ‘oh we have a class together, I was just saying hi,’ but like why don’t you just say hi then leave, why is she trying to dance with him?” Addy sobs, taking the paper towels from your hands and burying her face in them.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice and that’s why he’s dancing with her.” You coo, smoothing down her hair.

“And her boobs look so much better than mine.” Addy continues, flinging herself into your arms, and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

“What? No, no way, you look amazing! And hey, if that’s why he’s dancing with her than he’s an ass, and you deserve better.”

“She literally brought her own date, and she’s been ignoring him! Spencer is a nice guy, we had Intro to Philosophy together last semester, and he took really good notes, so he would let me borrow them when I missed something or got sick. And, and he’s like super cute, I don’t know why she wouldn’t just stay with him.”

You bite your tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you should go talk with Spencer then, if your date is going to be an asshole, then there’s nothing wrong with talking to someone who isn’t. You don’t even have to dance with him, just go say hi. I bet he’s feeling the same way you are.”

Addy sniffles and nods, wiping away the last of her tears. “Yeah, Spencer has a really big heart, I’m sure he’s upset.”

You give her an encouraging smile and keep your hand on her upper back, supporting her as she walks past her date, who is very clearly staring at Kaley’s boobs.

Spencer pops his head up when he sees Addy, a smile spreading across his lips. “Hey Addy, you doing okay? I um…I saw you crying, I wanted to go over, but…”

“I’m okay, how about you? We’re kinda in the same boat, aren’t we?” She says, taking the seat next to him.

He scoots over so she has more room, his head dipping down to hear her better, his body language screaming I like you; I feel safe with you. It’s adorable, you feel like Cupid, as you watch the two immediately fall into a deep discussion about emotions and the philosophy behind them.

Now that Addy was taken care of, you roll your shoulders out and stop at the bar before heading back towards the dance floor. You don’t really know how it happened but two shots later and everything you’ve been drinking the whole night is finally catching up with you.

The only thing on your mind is Miguel, how much you adore him, how handsome he looks, how every fake bitch in this room has been eyeing him like a hyena eyes a wounded gazelle. You have to find him; you can’t leave your wounded gazelle all alone in this pack of jackals.

You find him, but he’s not alone. Your sister, though not one you particularly care for, is talking to him, well, trying to at least.

Dana is dressed pretty basic, red dress, and heels. You’re not sure who she’s supposed to be, and she doesn’t look bad, but the dress is too small, it doesn’t fit her right, and the color makes her skin look washed out.

“So, who are you with?” Dana shouts over the music, clearly unable to see you as you approach from the side, basically hidden by the other dancers.

“Y/N.” Miguel answers, eyes darting back to the bathroom entrance, your drink still in his hand, his discarded somewhere.

Poor thing, he didn’t see you leave.

“She left you all alone? That’s so mean.” Dana says, giving him an overexaggerated pout.

“She went to take care of a new member.” He says, always so quick to defend you.

She trails a finger down his chest, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Still, she shouldn’t leave a handsome thing like you alone.”

Miguel goes red, taking a step back, sputtering. “I—um, thank you, but I’m here with y/n, and—”

“Yeah, but y/n’s not here now, come on, live a little.” She takes your drink from Miguel’s hand. “This yours?”

Before he can say anything, she drains it, and smiles at him.

“That uh…that wasn’t mine.” Miguel says, taking another step back as she loops her arms around his neck and tries to pull him down to her level.

“Oh, too bad, and it looks like y/n still isn’t back, obviously you’re not that important to her, so why don��t you follow me upstairs?”

“Upstairs is blocked off.” Miguel says, so sweet, so oblivious. “And I’m waiting for y/n.”

He tries to gently push Dana away, but she hangs on. “Ugh, come on, y/n is so lame, don’t you want to have fun? You can have fun with me.”

You’ve had enough, blood boiling, you tap her on the shoulder, making both her and Miguel jump.

“Dana, your date is looking for you.” You say, saccharine sweet smile on your lips, your voice dripping with honey coated venom.

She untangles herself from Miguel, who looks like you caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ugh, he’s so needy. Anyways, come find me if you need me, Miguel.”

The moment she leaves, Miguel turns to you, apologies spilling from his lips like water. “Y/N, I swear nothing happened, she just came up to me, and I told her I was here with you, but she kept going, and then she wanted me to go upstairs with her, and I told her upstairs is closed, and I was waiting for you and—”

You grab him by the neck of his costume and drag him off the dance floor, past the pitiful sign that asks people to stay away from the second floor, and up the stairs. Usually, the upper floor is open to the public. It’s a more secluded seating area with its own smaller bar and thick glass walls that block out some of the sound from below, bisected by cement pillars offering a modicum of privacy.

You’re tired of this, of watching everyone else get to grab him, touch him, flirt with him, he’s yours.

It’s darker on the second level, only a few safety lights, and the multicolored strobe lights flashing up from the first floor. It’s quieter as well, you can finally hear yourself think.

You keep walking until you find the corner booth and shove Miguel into it. Not for the first time you’re glad these damn booths are so big, Miguel can sit properly, facing you, without having to scrunch up. The alcohol in your system is making you brave, and a little horny, but mostly brave. You can see its effects on Miguel as well, the flush of his cheeks, the slight glaze in his eyes.

“Dulzura, please, don’t be upset, I promise, nothing happened, I wouldn’t—I’m here with you, and I know that we’re here as—as friends, but still, I wouldn’t…I didn’t—still don’t want to dance or spend time with anyone else.”

He looks so pretty, stumbling over his words, his hair all ruffled, his tone so sweet and pleading. You want him, bad. You know you shouldn’t. You were the one who said it was platonic, just friends, but when he’s here, looking the way he does, and everyone is circling around him like vultures, you just…

Fuck it.

You straddle him, grab his face, and kiss him.

Miguel short circuits, hands frozen in midair, body tense, and then it’s like a dam opens. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer, his lips moving in synchronicity with yours, warm, plush, the taste of tequila on his tongue, or maybe it’s yours, you can’t tell anymore. You’re practically devouring him with how desperate you are to finally, finally kiss him.

“Fuck, Miguel, I—I can’t be just friends with you, I can’t do it anymore.” You admit, breath catching in your throat when Miguel grabs your ass, his big warm hands hauling you even closer. “I need more, we have to be more.”

“We can be anything, anything you want.” Miguel says breathlessly, his glasses fogging up from the heat between you.

You tug his head back by his hair and attach your lips to his neck, biting down hard, intent on leaving your mark. “Don’t want other girls thinking you’re up for grabs, you’re mine, been mine since the first day of class.”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours y/n.” He whimpers, his hands caressing your body nonsensically, as if he can’t decide where to put them.

“Such a good boy for me, Miguel, looking so handsome, always so sweet, always saying just the right thing.” You continue your onslaught until his neck looks like a crime scene.

“Kiss me, please y/n, I need—please, please, I’ve wanted this for so long, please kiss me again.” Miguel begs breathlessly, looking absolutely wrecked.

So, you do, gladly, over, and over, and over again, until he builds the courage to tangle his hands in your hair, to venture under your skirt and grip your bare thighs, as he moans and squirms beneath you.

You can’t fuck him here, it’s too public, too rushed, especially knowing what you know, there’s no way in hell you’ll let Miguel’s first time be a drunken quickie at a bar. So, you pull back, cupping his cheeks, smiling softly when he whines and tries to chase after your lips.

You press your thumb to his lips, shaking your head. “We can’t, not here.”

“Why not?” He whines, pupils blown wide with lust, chest rising and falling rapidly, his grip brushing on your thigh and hip.

“Because I like you, and I respect you, so I won’t fuck you in a bar.” You tell him, pressing a chaste kiss to his kiss swollen lips before sliding from his lap.

Miguel pouts, actually pouts at you, and you nearly give in, but you steel yourself.

“Come on sweet boy, let’s go back to the party.”

He blinks at you as if he’s coming up from underwater, slow, liquid, then he bites his lip. “I um…I’m going to need a minute.”

You glance down and heat rushes to your face.

He’s hard, and huge, like massive, and your resolve starts to waver.

“What if I just?” You sit astride his lap and ghost your fingers over his covered cock. “Give you a hand?”

Nerd!Miguel Masterlist and the "part two" here

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #nerd miguel #nerd!miguel #nerd!miguel o'hara #college!miguel #college!reader #college au #that picture is so slutty and I want to just NMFGNVNSABVL

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ohhappyday123 · 1 year ago

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Office Dynamics

The usual chaos at Dunder Mifflin was in full swing as you settled into your desk. You glanced around the office, noting the familiar faces: your best friend Pam at the receptionist desk, Dwight giving one of his many stern warnings to an uninterested Jim, and Michael hiding behind his office door, occasionally peeking out to see if anyone needed "managing."

You had been at Dunder Mifflin for a few years now, and over time, you had built strong relationships with your coworkers. You were especially close to Pam and Dwight. Pam was your confidante, the one who shared your love for art and a good cup of coffee. Dwight, with all his quirks, had become a surprisingly loyal friend. And then there was Jim, with whom you'd developed a complicated yet exciting "fling."

The camera crew caught you at your desk, and you gave a small wave before starting your work.

Interview with Y/N: "I love it here. Everyone's so... unique," you laughed. "Pam and I have been friends since I started, and Dwight, well, he's an acquired taste, but he's a good friend. Michael... he kind of sees me as his secret favorite. I don't know why, but I'll take it."

As you typed away, Michael's voice echoed through the office. "Y/N! Can you come into my office for a second?"

You rolled your eyes playfully at the camera before standing up and making your way to Michael's office. He shut the door behind you, a serious look on his face.

"Y/N, I need your opinion on something very important," Michael said, his tone hushed.

"Sure, Michael. What's up?" you replied, curious.

"I've been thinking about the next office party theme. What do you think about a ‘Scranton Renaissance Fair’?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

You couldn't help but smile. "I think it's a great idea, Michael. Everyone will love it."

Michael beamed, clearly satisfied with your response. "I knew I could count on you, Y/N. You're the best."

You left Michael's office, feeling a bit lighter. As you walked back to your desk, you noticed Jim watching you with a smirk. You raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking what he found so amusing.

He got up and sauntered over to your desk, leaning against it casually. "So, the boss's favorite, huh?"

You shrugged, trying to hide your smile. "What can I say? I have a way with people."

Jim chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Well, you certainly have a way with me."

Before you could respond, Pam appeared beside you, a stack of papers in her hands. "Hey, Y/N. Got a minute?"

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. As Pam led you to the break room, you glanced back at Jim, who was still watching you, his smile never wavering.

In the break room, Pam set the papers down and turned to you, a knowing look on her face. "So, what's going on with you and Jim?"

You felt a blush creep up your neck. "Nothing, really. We're just... having fun."

Pam raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Just be careful, okay? Jim's a great guy, but office flings can get complicated."

You nodded, appreciating her concern. "Thanks, Pam. I'll keep that in mind."

As the day went on, you found yourself in the middle of a prank war between Jim and Dwight. Dwight had somehow managed to get himself locked in the conference room, and Jim was pretending to have lost the key.

Interview with Dwight: "Y/N is one of the few competent people in this office. She understands the importance of structure and discipline. Jim, on the other hand, is a menace."

Interview with Jim: "Y/N and I have a good thing going. She's smart, funny, and knows how to keep Dwight in check. Plus, she's got this amazing smile that just... well, it's something special."

As you tried to mediate the situation, Michael called another impromptu meeting. Everyone gathered in the conference room, and you took a seat next to Pam. Jim sat across from you, giving you a playful wink.

Michael started the meeting with his usual enthusiasm. "Alright, everyone! I have exciting news. We're going to have a ‘Scranton Renaissance Fair’! And it was all Y/N's brilliant idea."

You felt everyone's eyes on you, and you gave a modest smile. "It should be fun."

After the meeting, as everyone was getting back to work, Jim cornered you near the copier. "So, a Renaissance Fair, huh? Any chance you’ll dress up as a princess?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Only if you dress up as a knight."

Jim grinned, leaning in closer. "Deal. But just so you know, I'm pretty sure I'd be the one saving you."

You felt your heart race as you looked into his eyes. "We'll see about that."

The rest of the day flew by, and as the office began to empty, you found yourself alone with Jim. He walked you to your car, his hand brushing against yours.

"So, dinner tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I'd love that."

Interview with Y/N: "Jim and I... we have this connection. It's fun, it's exciting, and it just feels right. I'm not sure where it's going, but I'm enjoying the ride."

As you drove home, you couldn't stop smiling. The day had been filled with the usual office antics, but amidst it all, you felt a sense of happiness and anticipation. Tonight, you'd get to explore whatever this was with Jim a little further, and you couldn't wait.

#jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #the office #the office us

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ciaomarie · 1 year ago

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ESCAPING INTO A SHIP

So what exactly made me latch onto the Sydcarmy ship like a leech on a water buffalo?

It was unexpected (for me)! Yes, the very first meeting between Syd and Carm did make an impact. I thought "Oooh, what's this?!" However, Carmy was/is such a mess that I quickly dismissed it. And Sydney just seemed to want his professional approval and a partner in making something great after the soul-crushing failure of Sheridan. So, the first season I personally didn't feel a mutual sexual/romantic tension, more like an automatic respect and shared goals/passions. Sydney nor Carm were obviously trying to flirt. Most slow burns on TV are 100% obvious like a Jeanine and Gregory (Abbott Elementary), Nick and Jess (New Girl), Jake and Amy (Brooklyn 99), Jim and Pam (The Office)...Until Braciole Ep. 8 that is.

S. 1 Episode 8- I won't get into everything but Carmy was desolate. Yes, he became a psycho chef and two people quit in Ep.7. However, he mourned Sydney more than Marcus. She was in his flashback/nightmare (?), then the way he told Tina that she looked like Syd (the poor pup), him texting her before opening the note from Mikey, and finally the most gorgeous locked gaze scene since Pride and Prejudice (2005). The soft lighting, the music, the colors, the mind-reading...magical. I still didn't get it initially. Silly, blind me.

Mentorship where??? Season 2 Carm and Syd's "mentorship" dynamic is pretty much over. They are true partners and spending more time together. They're dressing alike even when not in uniform, finishing each other's sentences or talking in unison. Sydney is opening up more of herself and Carm is asking to know more. They use the ASL sign for sorry with each other and no one else until ep 10. Then there's that locker scene in ep. 1 or 2, when they almost hang out just cause. However, Carmy misses the moment and there's the return of the kicked pup face. Before being on the ship I was delighted with all of their scenes and was looking forward to the food tour. They just ROCK together on screen.

Classic Love Triangle- Who's Claire? She's "Claire Bear", the prototypical "cool girl", who is willing to chase an socially awkward, wrong-number-giving man, despite being a pretty ER resident with no shortage of options. Did a CW writer get hired? Anyways, why was her presence used almost exclusively to put strain on Carmy and Sydney's relationship instead of The Bear generally? We could have had scenes with Nat, Richie, and Marcus arguing with Carmy about him being distracted due to Claire. They saved 99% of that for Sydney. They CHOSE to insert her in between or just after scenes with him and Claire. Showing Sydney's tattoos and her getting dressed with the stained chef's coat juxtaposed with them was WILD.

I LOVE that both believe their interpersonal problems are solely about The Bear/business partnership. In most "slowburns" the characters are far more conscious and actively work to keep things platonic. Jeremy might be a smidge aware that Sydney means more to him after the panic attack, but I bet he's shoved it down. All he knows afterward is that being with Claire feels wrong hence ignoring her call and recommitting to SYDNEY. He could of said "You all/This/The Bear deserve my full focus etc..." He was also nagged into greeting Claire at Friends and Family, seemed anxious when Fak brought her up right before The Table scene, and also while explaining that "she's great" to Sydney. He was at peace when focused on Sydney in the moment below.

The actors: Jeremy and Ayo's real life friendship is warms my soul and their chemistry onscreen is amazing. DON'T WASTE IT!!!

Jeremy smolders on screen. I want to see Carmy continue to stare, yearn, fall, then eventually confess and for Sydney to reciprocate his feelings. Anyhoo, does anyone else melt when Carm means business?! They do this twice in season one and it's not good for me. Whew, I need to clean my whole house or run a few miles.

Finally, there's so many other parallels between these two. They are fearful avoidants, have a missing or dead parent, jacked up stomachs, use sarcasm, but are generally very earnest, they struggle with anxiety, are compassionate, are perfectionists, peace-makers, give people multiple chances, are workaholics...so much more. A lot of that is also ME, lol.

Sydcarmy is my Roman Empire. I love them as much as you can fictional characters and they deserve the most tender, angsty, triumphant, romantic best-friends to more love story.

#get the straight jacket #I gotta clean my house now #the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #sydney adamu #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #syd adamu #friends to lovers #slow burn #love story #word vomit #thoughts #roman empire

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11yellowdaffodils · 4 days ago

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Unfortunately I cannot truly find it in my heart to actually believe that buddie will ever go canon (if it does happen, however, I will be jumping up and down and have so much fun don’t get me wrong). “But he’s canonically bi now!” Yeah, he is. “But he said the words ‘in love with eddie’!” And that is also true. And that is how they get you and suck you in. I have been hurt too many times to actually believe that they will become something. I have hoped through supernatural, I have hoped through merlin, and I have (semi, I think John and Sherlock were just friends for real) hoped through Sherlock. I am sick and tired of hoping. I am sick and tired of executives dragging out these unfinished queer love stories to drive up viewership and just leaving it at a dead end. And I do understand it from an engagement capitalism point (if I put on my cog in the corporate machine hat) because they’re scared that viewership would plummet after they got together, but genuinely, it would not and that’s stupid. Look at any straight romance. Like Jim and Pam from the office!! That’s genuinely one of the best tv show romances I’ve seen, and it was able to continue and grow after they got together because they gave them such a compelling storyline and gave the other characters compelling storylines too. But I am just so so tired.

#i’ve played these games before #I am on the buddie train though because it’s fun here and I’m enjoying myself #I will never get off this train #but I am way too scared to hop on the buddie canon train #911 #911 abc #queerbaiting #buddie #buddie canon #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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myheadhurtscutely · 2 years ago

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Star Stationary - Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader - Chp. 2

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` Since the Halloween party, you've been kind of down about the brown-haired girl you saw Anakin kiss, but no time to fret. Anakin can't bear to see you sad for long.

!Warnings! Angst. But little fluffy bits here and there

wc ` 1.3k

notes ! this is closely based on characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office.

Chapter one

It had been a couple weeks since you and Anakin walked out of the party to deliver him to that beautiful woman in his front seat. As much as you hated to say it, you cried on the way to your car. You only knew him for a bit, but something about him felt special. A type of feeling you never had before. A gut feeling that you two were supposed to meet. Regardless, suck it up and move on. You had better things to do then sulk.

Today was the first time you had even made eye contact with him since then. He had slid some papers over your desk to fax. You looked up, expecting to see one of your other coworkers, but your eyes followed the trail from his silver watch, to his pale blue sleeve, his neatly tucked collar, up to his tanned neck, his tightened jaw, and finally, his beautiful baby blues. It was only a quick glance, but it was as if this was his way of asking to go back to how you were. A small gesture where he says he needs you.

"I um, I need you to fax this for me please." He adjusted his glasses, as you merely nodded, grabbing the papers off your desk. You felt his eyes follow you to the fax machine, and soon his feet followed suit. You stood there, eyes unwavering from the papers and the machine. His remained glued to you, as if he was in a trance.

"Here you go." Your voice was quiet as you handed them back to him. His hand brushed your pointer finger.

"Thank you receptionist." His little joke didn't land. You just stared at him. In his awkward state of embarrassment, he nodded his head and walked back to his desk. You tried not to think much of it, but god how you missed him. Your desk felt empty without your blonde statue to stand in front of it and pester you when you were in a pinch.

Your eyes drifted to his direction often times, and his to yours, but your visions never crossed paths.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

Lunch rolled around after what seemed like ages. You had made yourself comfortable in one of the blue chairs in the break room. Alone. Everyone had already taken their lunch earlier, but you had become so slammed at one point you had almost forgot.

Mid-bite into your sandwich, the door creaked open. A pair of blue eyes briefly met with yours, but you quickly removed contact, focusing back on your lunch.

"Stop doing that."

What the hell? Who did he think he was?

"I beg your pardon?" You finished your bite, turning to meet his eyes again.

"Don't play dumb. You know what I mean. I don't mean to come off rude..." His confident demeanor faltered for a second at the thought of hurting your feelings.

"Anakin don't-"

"Don't what? Ask my friend what's going on?" Friend. God, you had newfound hatred for that word and everything it meant.

"Nothing's wrong..." He had made his way to your table, scooting a chair out and plopping himself down across from you, leaning on his forearms.

"You know I can tell when your lying." You let out a fake laugh.

"Listen I've been there before... let me help you." Your eyes bulged. What was he talking about? Help you? Surely, he was out of his mind. You kept your mouth shut, chewing, waiting to hopefully hear more of his proposition. "Moving to a new place is hard. Having no one to talk to... let me help get you out there!" You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Padme has this friend-"

"I'm good." Padme. That name would ring in your ears the rest of the week. Hell, maybe even month. Your stomach twisted and curled at her name, completely making yourself blind to Anakin's pleas. You couldn't help but curse yourself for picturing yourself in her place. She had done nothing wrong, and you weren't that type of person.

After much consideration, you put the last bite of your sandwich down. "I'm sorry Anakin. You're right. I shouldn't have been such an ass." Both of you laugh and smile. As you walk to the door, Anakin opens it for you, guiding you through with his hand on the small of your back.

You cursed yourself for how it made you feel. But did you have a choice?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

The clock ticked, 20 minutes till 5. Thank God. Your's and Anakin's playful antics resumed to a degree. Passing each other silly notes, sarcastic emails, and of course customer gossip.

RING!!!

The company phone pulled you out of your daydreams. You answered greeting them politely and offering your standard help. A feminine voice answered on the other side. She asked to be directed to Anakin.

"Of course, one second please!" Your smiley voice faded as you put the phone down and redirected her call. "Anakin, hey, line three!" You held up your three fingers and whisper yelled to him.

He shook his head, nodded, and smiled.

You genuinely weren't trying to be in his business, but his "business" client was beginning to sound like a very personal conversation. Anakin held his head low, and kept his voice down. You could pick up small bits of his sentences. He wasn't happy.

"I blocked you for a reason- Padme- please- I don't want to talk right now- stop it- c'mon" His low voice hummed under the white noise of the office.

After minutes, his telephone slammed back down in its place. The whole office jumped, looking over at Anakin who gently raised his hands, apologizing quickly, reassuring everyone.

After minutes of rubbing his temples, his eyes followed you as you grabbed your coat off the rack. Several other people were making their way to the exit. It was five and no one was in the mood to stay longer. You couldn't blame 'em. This white light was mind numbing.

After a moment of grabbing your belongings, it was just you and him.

"Hey," His voice called out to you. You turned to meet him. "here's that guy's number." Not quite the romantic confession you were dreaming of, but it was whatever. He handed you a sticky note with Padme's friend's name and number. He really meant the best. You couldn't be mad.

"Thanks.."

"Don't thank me." He smiled coming up to you, towering over you. He looked at you almost as if he was asking permission for something. You looked at him quizzically. His hands guided themselves to your coat, buttoning the first two top ones. "It's cold out y'know."

You knew, but he just made you feel warm inside.

"Cmon let's go." He stuck his arm out, offering it to guide you out. You playfully smacked him and walked in front of him, making your way to the elevator first. You quickly tried to get the door to close, but he stuck his hand through, triggering the sensors just in time.

He moved into the small space, parading his body weight over you, backing you into a corner, pretending you weren't there. "Anakin!" You said muffled.

"Oh sorry! Didn't see you there." He moved to the side, smiling as he took your light hits to his arm with ease. The rest of the elevator ride was spent with silent smiles, and muffled laughs, the kind of laughter only the two involved would understand.

Ding!

The doors opened, revealing the lobby to you and Anakin. Once again, he raced ahead of you to hold the door open, guiding you out the way.

You made your way to your car, and he had followed, opening the door for you. After you ducked your way inside, he gestured for you to turn and take your feet out of the door side so he could close it. "Drive safe alright?" He whispered, tapping the top of your vehicle.

"Yes sir." You chuckled, looking down. He just smiled in response, gently closing the door as he waved.

notes: THIS TOOK FOREVER I AM SO SORRY, FINALS AND STUFF ARE CRAZY. I am trying so hard to write because it is fulfilling, and I love communicating with everyone, but it has been stressful and I've barely found time. I promise I'll try and get better about it, just have a lot on my plate, (trust, I will eat tho). Sorry this one is a lot shorter, I just don't want to add onto a chapter if it doesn't feel fitting y'know.?Regardless, thank you so much for being patient with meee. I hope you enjoyed!

tags ` @darthgloris , @queenie-official , @bby-imasociopath , @mxltifxnd0m , @jayrami3 , @robertsmithclone , @brainscabs , @bimbo-baggins86 , @t8lzw

(<3)

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic

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gayofthefae · 3 months ago

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It isn't just about proof of behavior or anything, set that aside.

It's about how once you even just experiment with viewing Mike as a love interest to Will - not even having feelings for him, just "his eventual/endgame love interest" - he hits every romantic trope. Everything he does, in fact, is some sort of classic romantic trope in writing.

Something shouldn't be. The first thing I did to figure out if St@ncy was endgame was see if they had an overarching story - because it wasn't maintained through the seasons, I had to stretch a little bit and in the end, they didn't really. So with that example, any other pairing that isn't endgame - even canonically romantic, when placed into this test does fail.

Everything Mike does is able to be justified as motivated by romance or lending itself to romance. That should not be true.

I can prove Mike's queerness and feelings in the diagnostic-style: eliminating all other possible explanations to find only one that fits every data point.

But I can also format as the classic theory on universal truths, basing it on the simple absence of something from the world. "This is true because there is nothing that proves it wrong and there should be. The implication of a lack of disproof is proof."

Mike has feelings for Will because there's no other explanation. But Mike also has feelings for Will because I have rewatched this show repeatedly since believing so and a single scene should have not fit it by now.

Again, I have failed to justify other storylines before. I can't. This is not a testament to my ability to justify things. It should not have any structure or tropes at all, let alone classic romantic ones every time.

They wrote it like a love story and they never didn't. They didn't take breaks from writing it like a love story. They maintained the storyline the one occasion that they didn't, not doing so was the acknowledged storyline. They wrote it like a love story. It always comes back down to structure. Love Mike Wheeler all you want but he doesn't exist. You can insert anyone you want into their storyline - just like how people say if Will were a girl more people would get it - and it'll fit.

Jim loves Pam but she's with Roy. She thinks Roy is dead and they bond more as he supports her in that grief. Roy comes back but now she's distancing herself from Jim in a way she didn't before. He calls her out on it and she apologizes and he thinks they've made up, but after he and Roy both end up moving to the same place for a job opportunity, she does not keep in touch and when she visits them, he confronts her about it and she defends that she didn't keep in touch with him because they're just friends. Roy confronts her about not telling him she loves him in a long time to which she is unable to respond, so he agrees to a business trip far away from her. She thinks he might be in danger there, though, and she apologizes to Jim and they work together to go after him. She does not know why she can't tell him she loves him and says she thinks this is the end of their relationship. She also expresses that she's scared she's not good enough for him to stay in her life, so Jim tells her how much he loves her, saying it's Roy's words. When they get there, Roy is dying and feeling too low to fight for his life because he thinks she doesn't love him (we're stretching the genre here, I'm doing my best). Jim reminds her that he needs her and she is able to help, so she tells him she loves him. Jim is heartbroken but understands, he didn't want Roy to die either. After they get back and Roy is safe, Pam is spending more time with Jim than Roy.

Transferring the story to a sitcom maybe wasn't the easiest call, but you get it, right? That makes sense. It plays like a love triangle, and that final leg of her spending more time with him than her partner raises eyebrows to still having feelings for him from when they bonded while he was out of the picture. Maybe you don't know how it'll end, but it doesn't play like a friendship. It plays like a love triangle.

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler is queer #byler tropes

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 1 year ago

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Ambivalent Days

Jim Halpert x Trans Man Reader (PART TWO) Can be read alone, but I do reference part one, so read that HERE if you want to be caught up!

Summary: You’ve finally come out as trans to the entire office. It’s gone a lot better than expected. But now you’re faced with a serious problem- or rather, a serious crush. On none other than Jim Halpert, leading supporter of your transitions and quickly becoming your best friend in the office. But are you willing to risk that friendship just for some silly little feelings?

Tags: FtM!reader, Gay!Jim (for narrative reasons, I think i wanted him to be bi in the first part but switched it around, whatever), implied gay!reader (all i said was ‘not straight’), trans supporter Dwight, peacekeeper!Pam, supportive!Kelly Kapoor, bisexual!Kelly, drinking in moderation, happy ending Warnings: Michael being absolutely ridiculous and attention-hungry to the point that he does bad things (so, like, normal episode?), some general swearing

A/N: This has been requested so many times, both in asks and requests. I’ll try my best to tag everyone who asked for this, sorry if i forgot any! I was excited to write this because I loved the first part, but figuring out where to start was the trickiest part. I hope you all enjoy! (this entire fic ended up just writing itself once i got going. I had no clue what i was gonna do until it happened so… enjoy lol)

Life was great, working as a Customer Service representative for Dunder Mifflin paper company. Wow, you never thought you’d say such a thing, but it really has become something appealing, something that had you smiling and willing to come to work every single day. Of course, it had its own ups and downs, times when you felt overwhelmed or frustrated at certain people. You still ended up enjoying the majority of the day, and sometimes the rough days turned out to end up better than the rest.

It had absolutely, wholeheartedly nothing to do with James Duncan Halpert, otherwise known to his work colleagues as ‘Jim.’ You continued to lie to yourself, nodding along to this thought process on your drive to work. It was rainy, just like most days, and you were bored out of your mind waiting in the traffic. You just enjoyed going to work, because… Because of all of your friends, that’s why! Sure, that might include Jim, but that also included Pam, and Oscar, and god forbid, even Dwight. He’s certainly grown on you over time, having completely accepted your identity, even defending you against anyone who said anything. You couldn’t be sure, but you suspected that Dwight had even lost a customer through those actions- but when Mr Dellicker had called for customer support and you had answered the phone, saying his name out loud, Kelly had rushed around the divider and ripped the phone from your hand, immediately transferring it to her own phone. You tried to listen in, curious why this was so important to her, but you kept hearing her say the same thing over and over.

“Thank you for your consideration, but we no longer want your business with us. I completely understand that you think so, but we no longer want your business with us. While that may or may not be true, this whole conversation is futile considering we no longer want your business with us.”

Mr Dellicker had become a hushed topic around you, but you had managed to catch a private whisper among your friends one day when he was brought up again. They’d ask Kelly if he had called yet, and she assured the situation was handled. Pam had whispered, “I can’t believe some people’s views on trans people. It makes no sense.” So, while it wasn’t likely due to you specifically, you were almost sure that you were the only trans person they knew. If they were defending trans people, they were defending you alongside it all.

You pulled into the parking lot finally, shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. Mr Dellicker’s whole deal had been a problem a month ago and was no longer an issue. You shouldn’t dwell on those thoughts, you weren’t likely to ever have to worry about it again. You managed to snag a semi-decent parking space. It was only the second from the front, but it happened to be right next to Michael’s own car, and as you placed your car into park, you glanced over to notice he was still sitting there. You tilted your head in confusion, watching for a moment.

You couldn’t tell if he was psyching himself up, or singing along to one of his weird songs. He seemed ready to open the door, then leaned back once more without actually doing it. He lowered the visor on his car, flipping open the little door to reveal his mirror and looking at himself in it. He continued, probably, speaking to himself, and you just shook your head and decided to leave it be. You reached for your suitcase and umbrella, then began making your way inside.

You were stuffing your umbrella into the little holder by the door after you entered the office, taking off your long overcoat and hanging it on the coat rack by Pam’s desk. She smiled, asking about what you did over the weekend, and you answered that you didn’t really do much besides binge the next season of your current obsession. You agreed to tell her about it later, moving toward the break room for your normal cup of tea. You pat Jim on the shoulder on the way, and he reaches up quickly to touch your hand before you slip by. It causes a smile to cross your face as you continue on your path, a happy feeling welling up inside.

“I. Am a girl.” You spin around quickly, eyes widening in fright. There stood Michael Scott, wearing a short, pleated pink skirt with his normal yellow button-down dress shirt, as well as a crooked ginger wig that he had most definitely not been wearing in his car. The room falls completely quiet, and you hear two people put their calls on hold. Jim stands, and you can’t see his face from this perspective, but you hear a hardness in his voice.

“Michael, this is not a funny joke-”

“It’s not a joke!” Michael yells out, crossing his arms. He purses his lips before speaking again in a higher tone. “I’m a girl, and so I decided to say it. That I am.” He looked around the room as if expecting something, but no one moved a muscle. Pam broke the silence, clearing her throat and talking in a tone that was both cautious and unbelieving.

“Alright, so what would you like us to call you, then?” Michael sputtered at the question, throwing his hands outward and looking around the room again. His eyes settle on me, and Jim sidesteps to block off his vision. You can no longer see Michael, but the image of him has burned into your mind anyway. You could feel yourself panicking, your heart trying to beat its way out of your chest. This had to be a prank right? He was making fun of you? Now? After all this time?

“What do you mean- Y/N didn’t change his name when he came out!”

“This has nothing to do with Y/N,” Jim quickly tries to interrupt him after hearing your name, but you heard his sentence all the same. Jim walked closer to Michael, leaning down to whisper, but even you could still hear his words in the silence your boss caused. “How about we talk this out privately and continue this announcement later?”

“But-”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea, Jim,” Pam calls out quickly, circling her desk and corralling Michael into his office. He was putting up a fight, but not much of one. Jim followed closely behind, closing the door behind him. You could see multiple faces turn to look at you- as their current entertainment had been dragged away- out of the corner of your eye, but you were still there, shell-shocked. Before you realized what you were doing, you were standing directly outside Michael’s office door, peeking around the side to look in through the window. You could hear them talking still, considering the rest of the office was waiting to see what you would do.

“No, no, no!” Michael yelled out, plopping down into his seat. “I’m serious about this you guys!”

“Alright, let’s assume you are,” Pam begins, but Jim looks at her with an aggravated look.

“Pam-”

“Let’s assume you are,” Pam repeats, pushing Jim away and leaning closer to Michael. “How did you come to this decision?”

“I-” Michael hesitates, looking at his computer, then back to Pam. “Well, I really like girls a lot.”

“Sure, sure, but sexuality and gender are different.”

“I know that, Pam! God!” Michael starts flipping random pens on his desk, trying to distract himself. “I just like their clothes a lot.”

“You like to wear the clothes, or see them on women?”

“See them-” He stops, looking up to her. “I mean, wear them! Yeah, that’s what it is!” His stuttering and determination caused Jim to huff in a humourless laugh, no longer just standing by.

“What’s really going on here Michael?”

“And,” Michael begins, ignoring Jim’s question, “What was that question about what I wanted to be called? Y/N didn’t change his name when he came out?”

“Sure,” Pam agrees, trying to maintain the peace, “But Michael isn’t a very feminine name. Doesn’t that make you feel a little, I don’t know, dysphoric?”

“What does that word mean?” Michael asks, causing Jim to huff again, moving forward to slam his hands onto the table.

“What is really going on here, Michael?”

“Fine!” Michael yelled out, throwing up his hands, his fake hair swinging around wildly. “I don’t think I’m a girl! I don’t like wearing dresses or skirts or-” He spits, swatting away the fake hair that had managed to catch itself in his mouth, “And I’m so uncomfortable in this,” He pulls the wig off finally, throwing it onto the ground. He stands next, reaching for the skirt he was wearing, “Or this-”

“No, no, no!” Pam calls out quickly, keeping him from ripping the skirt off in front of them. “I’ll fetch you your spare pair of pants here soon, it’s at the desk. Just,” She sighs, shaking her head, “What could’ve possibly made you think this was a good idea, Michael?”

“Well!” Michael huffs, pouting as he sits back down. “Y/N got all sorts of attention when he came out. He became cool, and popular, and now I’m not even allowed to make jokes about him! Everyone hates me now, he took my thunder!”

“You can still make jokes about him,” Pam continues cautiously, raising her hands up in a plea to calm him down. “Just, not about the fact that he’s trans.”

“My thunder Pam!”

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jim begins, reaching forward and grabbing hold of Michael’s shirt. “That stunt you pulled was mean-spirited and heinous. Do you have any idea how you could’ve made Y/N feel? How hard it was for him, not only to accept himself for who he is but to become confident enough in himself to come out to the entire office? Do you realize how much you probably just put him back?” Michael’s face was terrified, and Pam was too stunned at this action to do anything at first. By the time Jim was done talking, she reached forward quickly and pulled him back.

“Jim, that’s unnecessary.”

“I feel it was completely necessary, Pam.”

“He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, he just wants attention.”

“He gets attention every single day Pam! He demands it, hell, he goes out into the office and-”

“Jim,” Pam interrupts, nodding toward Michael. You watch Michael visibly sniff, raising a hand to rub at his nose.

“No, no, he’s right. I’m a nuisance, everyone hates me.”

“No one hates you, Michael,” Pam starts, and Jim scoffs.

“You’re babying him.” She shoots him a threatening look, and he just shakes his head and crosses his arms. Pam moves closer to the desk, looking down at Michael.

“Hey,” When Michael looks up, his eyes are red and glossy. “What you did just now, was that a good idea?”

“No,” He whines out, drawing out the vowel.

“Good, that’s the correct answer. And why was it a bad idea, Michael?” He huffs again, moving to play with a different toy on his desk and avoiding her eyes.

“Because I lied for attention.”

“And?”

“Because I probably made Y/N feel bad. And Jim.”

“So what are you going to do?” Pam asks, and you can’t see her expression but Michael finally meets her eyes and breathes in a deep breath.

“I’m going to tell everyone that it was a horrible prank and that I’m sorry.”

Even Jim startles at this, both Pam and Jim- even you, yourself- having never actually heard Michael apologize for one of his many failed pranks or skits. Pam straightens up, glancing quickly at Jim before looking back. Her voice was full of surprise as she nods, “That’s right. That’s completely right, actually. Good job Michael.” You could see him smile before looking down at his lap, then back up at Pam.

“Can I do it after I change?”

“Of course,” Pam moves quickly to the door, and you don’t think fast enough to move out of the way. The door swings open wide and you are revealed to be standing there, right outside of it. All three occupants turn to look at you with varying expressions, but they all share a similar surprise. You swallow hard, locking your eyes with Michael. You are about to speak but can feel eyes digging into your back, so you take a few steps into the office, past your two friends.

“What you did just now,” You begin, sucking in another deep breath, “Was horrifying- for everyone involved. I’m sure we want to see you in a skirt just as much as you want to be in one.” You lean forward onto the desk, watching Michael shrink away from you. “But let me ask you, how does it feel to wear that skirt?”

“What?” He looks startled at the question, looking to Jim and Pam for help. None arrived for him.

“How does it feel, wearing that skirt? Why aren’t you wearing a blouse with it? Couldn’t find one that fit, or did it feel too uncomfortable? What about the hair?” You nod down to wear the wig laid on the ground. “Was it annoying? Kept getting caught in your mouth, right? Drooped in front of your face, obscuring your vision?” You leaned forward, your breath coming out harsher. “Imagine you had breasts attached to you- and push past your sexuality. Imagine you had them and they couldn’t be removed.” You whisper this last part, your own eyes tearing up. “How would you feel?’

You hear Jim say your name softly behind you, realizing what you were referencing. Michael shook his head for a few seconds before he stopped, widening his eyes. You nod, continuing your speech. “Yeah, exactly.” You lean back, picking your hands off of his desk to rest by your side. “That’s how I feel every single day. Or, did. Until I came out.” You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I became confident because I was finally comfortable with who I was. I’m sorry if you can’t find that confidence in yourself. But don’t try to steal mine. Don’t make a mockery of my struggles.” You turn, heading toward the door, toward your desk- to anywhere but here. But Michael’s voice stops you before you’re able to leave.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turn, looking into his eyes. He seemed genuine, but you knew he didn’t really understand.

“Think about why you are. Then get back to me.”

You pushed your way past Pam, who stood in the doorway with shock and pain written across her face, and ignored Jim’s call of your name as you kept going. You wanted away from these stares, this was not what you meant by loving this damned office. You continued past the breakroom, ignoring your daily cup of tea. You enter into your side of the annexe, seeing Kelly on the phone and hearing a whispered but high-pitched, “What? No! He didn’t?” Before she suddenly looks up, widens her eyes, and quickly says, “Gotta go,” Before slamming the phone down. You sigh and walk around the divider, taking your seat.

Kelly has more social sense than most people in the office, you’ve come to realize. It was why she had applied for customer service- unlike you, who had just taken up an ad from the newspaper. So, she knew better than to try to ask you what happened. She remained quiet on her side of the partition, something that was extremely odd, and it almost felt like you were in your own little world, in your tiny corner. Your desk was pressed against two walls, and the partition blocked the other two sides except for the small gap for your entrance. The partition walls weren’t very high, but sitting down they reached above your head. You felt isolated- something you first loved, then hated, and now feel grateful for once again. It gives you time and privacy to calm down.

After some time, you hear a throat clear nearby, and Kelly’s chair roll as she likely stands to leave. You look up at the top of your divider, waiting for a face to come into view. Luckily, it’s Jim’s face. He smiles softly at you, and you can tell he’s trying to keep the pity from his face, but it's not working very well.

“You didn’t make your tea?” He raises a cup- your favourite cup, no less, that no one else has used since your incident with Dwight- and offers it to you. “I figured I’d make you some. Can’t go a day without your tea, right?” You can tell he was trying, and it warmed something inside of you. Trying for a smile, you reach out to take the cup, taking a sip. It was made perfectly.

“I’m sorry about that,” You begin, sighing and placing the cup aside. “I kinda went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Not at all,” Jim rushes to comfort you, circling the divider completely to be inside your little cube. He rests himself against your desk, looking down at you with earnest eyes. “If anyone was overboard, it was Michael.” You just shrug, looking away.

“I mean, what did I expect, really? Everyone in the office has been so good about the whole thing. Ever since I’ve come out, it's been nothing but positivity.” You bite your lip, shrugging. “This office isn’t exactly a positivity-friendly environment.”

“You being trans should have no bearing on your workplace,” Jim insists, leaning forward toward you. “I know the world is fucked, but I want to make sure that at least your world isn’t.” You huff a laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh, c’mon Jim. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” You look up, meeting his eyes with a self-deprecating smile. “It’s not like it's because of you that all of this ended up so easy until now.” Jim’s eyes widen slightly, then wander away as he wiggles his head and bites his lip. You wait for him to agree, then narrow your eyes. “You… Didn’t tell everyone to be nice to me, did you?”

“Well,” He begins, drawing out the word and wincing. “I didn’t quite do that. But I did explain that they shouldn’t act any different, what jokes they shouldn’t make about it, and to look something up before asking any questions. If they couldn’t find the answer online, then they could ask me, and then I would allow them to ask you.” You blink a few times, tilting your head.

“But no one ever asked me anything?” He nodded along, sucking his lips inside his mouth before popping them, sighing.

“Yep.”

“Did they have questions?”

“Oh,” Jim scoffs, laughing. “So many.” He places his hands between his knees, palms together. You couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Like what?” You feel curious but also dread at the prospect.

“Oh, y’know,” Jim shrugs, moving to mess with some pens on your desk idly, not meeting your eyes. “Just the usual dumbest shit on the planet. I told them all they were absolutely not allowed to ask you, of course, and had to explain why sometimes.” You nodded along, huffing out another laugh.

“I suddenly don’t want to know.”

“Oh, no, you really don’t.” You laugh softly along with him, feeling your chest bloom open, your crush developing further. For the second time today, you were moving before realizing you decided to. You stood, then reached forward and pulled Jim into a hug. He had straightened when he noticed you standing, then stood stiff as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You hesitated, about to pull away when Jim moved quickly, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in tighter. You relaxed once more, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes.

“Thank you, Jim,” You whisper, turning your nose to brush against his dress shirt. He smelled clean, with a hint of cologne that you couldn’t place. His arms were warm and strong- comforting in a way that you hadn’t felt in so long. He moved one of them up, cupping the back of your head as he straightened up more, pulling you in closer.

“It’s nothing,” Jim stutters out, and you can hear his heart beating under your ear. “Someone’s gotta make sure these folks don’t chase you away.” You laugh, leaning back to look him in the eye. He seems sincere, solemn, as he adds, “I think I would be devastated if you quit.” You chuckle once more, shaking your head as you pull away.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“No,” Jim lowers his head, trying to catch your eye once again. “I’m completely serious. You are probably the only reason I still show up.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m this old and stuck in this job?” You laugh along, shaking your head.

“You make good money here, Halpert, don’t deny it.” You feel slightly upset you had pulled away from the hug so soon, but you had to look at him after he said that. You had to see if he was serious- Jim is hardly ever serious, always joking around. It was part of the reason your crush developed so fast, and also why it’d always remain a secret. He was so funny, making you laugh constantly. But he was also a bit of a jokester, and you didn’t know if he had a serious bone in his body. Today was showing he certainly did.

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle it.

You both spend some more time chatting, and his presence is a balm that soothes your panicked heart. He tries his best to make you laugh- which you do, often- and you finish your morning cup of tea in the meantime. You were sure you could’ve talked to him forever if only your phone hadn’t rung. You shrug with helplessness, reminded that you’re technically at work and still have a job to do. You reach to pick up your phone, apologizing to Jim who waves you off. You watch him walk away as you answer the phone, “Dunder Mifflin paper company, customer service representative speaking.”

It ended up being a quick call, with someone complaining that their shipment was late. You only had to find their account to let them know that the delivery was scheduled for today and the time. Once you placed the phone back in its slot, you raised your cup to your mouth before remembering it was empty. ‘Eh, might as well,’ You think to yourself, pushing to stand and make your way to the breakroom. Kelly is back at her desk as you circle around, and you make sure to say a soft greeting to her to make up for your earlier rudeness. She says a polite and short greeting back with a gentle face, still conscious of your rough morning.

You’re about to pull the door to the breakroom open when you notice the back of Jim standing at the counter. He was hefting a freshly brewed pot of coffee, and you couldn’t help but stand there and watch his arm flex as he hefted it with no problem. You didn’t see the other door open, but suddenly Kevin was walking directly into Jim’s space.

“I have another question.” Jim sighs visibly, shaking his head.

“Haven’t I told you enough-”

“No, this is a different question, Jim!” Kevin seems adamant, and after Jim puts the coffee pot away he takes a side step to regain some personal space. “And you said yesterday there’s a limit of stupid questions I’m allowed to ask a day so I couldn’t ask yesterday!”

“You have until I finish making my coffee.” You’ve never seen Jim quite so indifferent and snappy before, raising your curiosity. For some reason, you still stood there, barely peeking through the window of the door, still holding your empty cup.

“Ok, so if he still wanted breasts-”

“Nope.” Jim was already shaking his head, stirring sugar into his coffee.

“Alright fine, but also. Can he sow a penis-”

“Nope.” Kevin huffs in frustration, flapping his arms for a split second.

“Why do you keep saying no to all of my questions?” Jim finishes stirring his coffee, placing the spoon in the sink and turning to look directly at Kevin finally.

“Because all of these questions are way too personal.”

“How are they personal?” You tilt your head, furrowing your brow. How would they not be personal? Jim seems frustrated, running his free hand through his hair.

“You can’t just ask someone about their breasts or genitals, Kevin. You wouldn’t want anyone asking about your dick.”

“Actually, it’s kinda itchy-”

“Nope!” Jim pushes away from the bar, leaving immediately. You’re stuck between sympathy for both of them. You don’t think Kevin actually knows any better at this point, but you also just felt too awkward to even try to come up with an answer to those questions. However, were these the types of things that Jim had to put up with daily just to vet the office for you? Why would he put himself through all of that?

“He’s really trying, you know?” You startle from your thoughts, turning to look at Kelly still sitting in her rolling chair. You tilt your head in confusion, but also shifted on your feet, hoping to play off the fact that you’d been standing there this whole time.

“Who?” Kelly just gives you a look you can’t quite decipher, continuing.

“Jim, obviously.” She sighs, pushing herself away from her desk and standing. “He’s even asked me for help on occasion. Little things here and there, but he recruits the allies where he can find them.” You purse your lips, leaning back against the wall next to the door, crossing your arms while holding your cup upright still.

“Asked you for help? Doing what? Who else has he asked?”

“I knew you’d figure it out at some point, I just didn’t think it’d be when someone slipped through his fingers. Though, Michael is pretty unpredictable like that.” She shrugs with a smile like she’s trying to hold back a laugh. “His main ask for me was just to intercept anyone trying to bother you- most likely to ask the dumb questions. I just had to send them right back through the breakroom over to Jim’s desk.”

“Did that happen often?” She shrugs again, wiggling her head.

“Not often, but a few times. Mainly Kevin, he has a lot of questions.” You nod, glancing briefly toward the breakroom’s door before resting your eyes on her once more. You study her posture, then try to make a guess.

“The other was Mr Dellicker, wasn’t it?” She winces but nods nonetheless.

“He was a real ass.” She sighs dramatically, moving to lean against the wall next to you and bunching up one of the random, typical office posters that hang around throughout the floor. “He was Dwight’s client, actually. The moment Dwight heard him be even a small bit transphobic, he hung up the phone. This, of course, caught Jim’s attention. I mean, have you ever known Dwight to drop a client? Like, ever?” You shake your head in agreement, and she nods with you. “Yeah, right? Anyway, Jim asks, Dwight answered. To Dwight, that was the end of the entire thing. To Jim, however,” Her smile begins growing as she leans closer to you, “Well, he knew that Mr Dellicker would call back to complain. And who would be picking up the phone?”

“Customer service,” You mumble, absorbed into her story.

“Exactly!” She giggles now, unable to hold it back. “It was adorable, really, the way he begged me to make sure I took his call. He actually asked me to call the man first, but I told Jim I wouldn’t go out of my way just to aggravate someone who, as far as we knew, wouldn’t be calling back after such a rude hang-up. But he wouldn’t let up, so I agreed to keep an ear out.” She huffs now, widening her eyes with a far-off look. “Good thing I did, too. He was such an ass.”

“Thank you,” You say softly, bringing her back to the present. She tries to brush it off but you just shake your head, placing a hand on her arm. “No, not just for Mr Dellicker. For agreeing to help out at any point, just for me. For not making a big deal about my whole coming out, for never treating me any different or- just-” You hesitate, shaking your head. “Just everything, Kelly. You’re an amazing coworker.” You watch her eyes begin to water, and she lets out a wet laugh.

“Wow,” She raises her hands, wiping the corners of her eyes. “You’re going to make my makeup run.” She pushes up from the wall, circling you and entering into the breakroom, heading straight for the girls’ bathroom. You widen your eyes at this reaction, unsure, but take a deep breath and enter into the breakroom yourself. You still had some tea to brew.

You didn’t mean to idle, standing near the exit of the breakroom toward the annexe, but stuck in place watching Jim lean against Pam’s desk through the door’s window on the other side of the room. They were talking back and forth- a lot of laughing involved- and you couldn’t quite place the feelings whirling in your chest. It felt similar to jealousy, but you knew that wasn’t it. Envy? That perhaps she was his type, and not you after your transition? Insecurity?

You startle as Jim suddenly meets your eyes, watching him straighten up quickly. You try to act nonchalant, moving out of his line of sight to grab your lunch from the fridge, and sitting at the break room table. You’d finished your second cup of tea hours ago, and you were a tad overdue for your lunch break considering you had a whole host of emails that you usually respond to in the morning, but had to answer during your second cup of tea since you’d been just a tad distracted that morning. You bite your lip as the events from that morning fly through your mind, a whole host of emotions attached to them.

The door across the room opens, stopping your train of thought in its tracks. Jim walks in with a smile, moving toward the fridge. “Hey,” He greets you, scanning you with his eyes while you just sat there, slowly removing your lunch from its brown paper bag. “Was starting to worry you’d forgo lunch.” You laugh, then proceed to explain your lateness. As he sets his own lunch on the table, you begin to wonder if he waited for you. Then your eyes flicker back toward the door you’d been staring at him through.

“So, how’s Pam?” Jim seems a bit taken off guard at the question, turning to look at the door himself before looking back to you. He shrugs, taking his own lunch out of his lunch box.

“Uh, good, I guess?” He raises his sandwich, ready to take a bite before hesitating and adding on, “She’s excited to hear about that one show you mentioned this morning.” You nod along, watching as he begins to eat his sandwich. You take your own small bite, looking toward the door again.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Jim’s eyebrows furrow immediately, and you watch him swallow. He seems to be planning his actions in his head before he performs them, placing his sandwich down.

“What?” He looks around the room aimlessly, wiggling his head. “I mean, yeah of course. She’s cute.”

“You two get along really well.” At this he chuckles, shrugging.

“We’ve worked together for a long time.” You both fall silent, taking more bites of your food. Jim breaks the silence with a resounding, “I’d probably have developed a crush on her by now if I wasn’t gay.”

Gay.

You end up lightly choking on your bite from surprise, playing it off with a cough and a sip of your water bottle. You can see Jim staring down at his sandwich at the table, taking a deep breath. “So, I can see why someone would develop a crush on her. If he was straight.” He glances briefly up at you, then back down to his sandwich. You tried your damndest to keep the look of shock from your face, that it takes an extra minute before you understand what he’s not saying. Did he think you were asking because you had a crush on Pam? You take another sip of water, letting your eyes wander away from him.

“Yeah, same.” Out of the corner of your eye, Jim glances up at you quickly, a look of concentration on his face that indicates his thoughts roaming a million miles an hour. You shrug for show, moving your own food closer so you can take a bite once you finish speaking. “I’d probably have developed a crush as well if I was straight.”

You only recognized the signs of Jim choking since you’d just gone through the same thing, as the man turns to cough into his arm as if to play it off. At least the poor man hadn’t been chewing food like you were. By the time Jim finished drinking from his own bottle, and moved to lean forward and say something, he was interrupted by the door opening and someone entering inside. He leans back, looking self-conscious, and you feel such a deep curiosity about what he was going to say that it burns in your chest. You don’t even register who walked in until she was taking a seat right next to you.

“I don’t know how you can stand it, Jim,” Kelly begins softly, and you look at her with confusion. Kelly never talks softly? “Working right next to the receptionist's desk all day. How do you get any work done?” Jim’s eyes flicker between you and Kelly, clearing his throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s so hot!” You and Jim meet eyes suddenly, listening to her continue to talk in a soft voice. No wonder, considering she was essentially coming out to the both of you. “When I first started and had to work over in that area, I was getting nothing done. Toby had to ask me what was wrong, and I sorta kinda told the truth that I was extremely distracted. He moved me to the annexe-” She pauses here, resting a hand on your arm with a sympathetic expression, “Sorry, Y/N, that’s why you’re confined back here as well.” You shake your head quickly, rushing in.

“No, it’s fine. I like it back here.”

“You do?” Jim asks with a smirk, and you give him a look essentially saying ‘Shut the fuck up Halpert I’m trying to console her.’ He just laughs noiselessly, his chest shaking as he moves to take another gigantic bite of his sandwich.

“Anyway, it’s so distracting. I had to go get something copied and I stood there an extra five minutes trying not to stare too directly at her. Oscar literally had to nudge me and remind me what I was doing!” She groans, letting her head fall onto the table. “So embarrassing.”

“Oscar knows?” You ask gently, unsure whether she actually realized she told you both. She lifts her head with a sigh, seemingly unfazed.

“Well, yeah. Oscar knows about everyone.” You hear Jim scoff softly, mumbling quietly under his breath.

“Not everyone.” This only causes Kelly to raise an eyebrow at Jim, smirking with humour.

“Oh, he knows about everyone, Jim.” His head was quick as it whipped toward Kelly, leaning in.

“Wait, what?”

“I mean,” She shrugs, glancing toward you briefly before meeting his eyes again. “You’re kinda obvious, Jim.” You can see his eyes widen, but you only feel confusion.

“Wait, how many people are gay in this office?” Kelly only shrugs, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Not my place to say.” You nodded along, obviously that being true. You meet Jim’s eyes once again, and you can see red peppering his cheeks.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Jim.” He nods as if agreeing, flicking his eyes between you and the rest of his sandwich throughout the rest of lunch. Kelly takes the initiative in the ensuing silence, talking about everything yet nothing at the same time. Just as you and Jim are both cleaning up to get back to work, Kelly sighs loudly with an eyeroll before looking toward you and plastering on a smile. The look only made you feel wary.

“So, Y/N, what are your plans for after work?” You swallow roughly, glancing at a wide-eyed Jim, then back to her.

“Uh, nothing really?”

“Oh,” She draws out, reaching forward and placing a flirty hand on your arm. “So you’re free tonight? Want to go out for drinks?” You stutter, pulling away from her arm, your head already shaking as you try to come up with an excuse. ‘Didn’t she just say that she found Pam attractive? What the hell is going on?’

“Uh, Kelly-” Jim tries to intercept, but she pulls away as if nothing happened, shrugging.

“I just meant with the lot of us. Jim will be there too, won’t you Jim?” She looks directly at him, raising her eyebrows as if she was expecting something from him. You look between the two as an awkward silence settles before Jim startles, trying (and failing) for a normal smile.

“Oh! Those drinks!” Jim laughs awkwardly, looking back and meeting your eyes. “Yeah, we’re all going out for happy hour at Poor Richard’s Pub, you should join us!” You relax slightly as Jim was the one offering, no matter how weird this entire interaction ended up being.

“Oh, uh,” You hesitate, still slightly wary. There’s obviously something you’re missing here. “I mean, sure. I have nothing else to do. Who all will be there?”

“Just a couple people from the office,” Kelly quickly answers, standing and moving to throw her own trash away. She turns to look at both you and Jim, still sitting in your chairs. “Well, c’mon! We have work to do, people!”

“I know why I’m sorry now.” You startle at your desk, turning to look directly at Michael Scott with wide eyes. You hadn’t even heard him approach. He circles around your desk, motioning for you to stop your work as he leans against your desk- an unknowing imitation of Jim that morning. “If you’re willing to listen?”

You can feel yourself swallow roughly, the beginnings of a familiar panic starting in your chest. You’re unsure what to say, so you just nod. He nods as well, taking a deep breath before continuing. “At first, I had no clue what you meant. I knew I was sorry, and I knew it was because I had hurt you.” He looks into your eyes, regret deep within his own. “But that wasn’t enough for you. So I started thinking.” He chuckles softly, leaning back on his hands and letting his own gaze roam the walls behind your desk. “And when that didn’t work, I remembered something Pam said when she tried to play along with my- well, yeah. A certain word I didn’t recognize. Dysphoric.”

You feel yourself tense, suddenly remembering the tightness around your chest where the binder lays under your clothes. You can feel the tie around your neck like it was trying to choke you. Michael, unaware of your inner struggles, continues on. “That search was enlightening- it was like everything you had expressed to me. And everything I had felt, trying on those clothes.” He hunches inward, his expression becoming stormy. “I felt so wrong wearing that skirt. And you were right- I had tried a blouse on. I bought one at the store that fit and even brought it home, but it just felt so weird when I tried to walk out of the door with it on. So I switched to my normal shirt.

“Then I was sitting in the parking lot, and I knew that the moment I placed my foot out of my car, everyone would see the skirt. I was-” He laughs humourlessly, shaking his head. “I was terrified. I tried to ignore it- like it was just stage fright, something I had to talk myself into.” You began to nod, intrigued by his story. “I don’t know how I convinced myself to get out of the car- I guess something along the lines of, ‘Well, I’m the boss. The ship will sink without me in there.’” He takes a deep breath, patting his legs loudly. “Anyway, I was jealous.” He shrugs, looking at you with wet eyes. Was he really getting emotional over this? “I mean, you did kinda steal my birthday away from me.”

Memories of that night flash quickly through your head. You’d come out during a party- a party you didn’t know the purpose of. That pink quinceañera cake… You didn’t get to taste it, but they could’ve gotten it because it was his favourite flavour? You hadn’t even seen Michael there. Was he trying for a grand entrance? Memories from this morning flash through your mind’s eye, Michael yelling at Pam, ‘He stole my thunder! My thunder, Pam!’

“It wasn’t planned, Michael,” You try to assuage, wincing despite yourself. “I’m sorry, though.” Your apology causes Michael to blow a sigh out roughly, then laugh and slap his thighs again.

“Wow! I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that.” You’re both silent- you studying Michael’s face, and Michael looking anywhere but at you. Then you start laughing.

“Michael,” You try to talk through your laughter, but you just shake your head and try to get it under control. You wouldn’t want him to think you were making fun of him- you only found him ridiculous- so you try your best to calm down. “Michael. You were upset that I ‘stole your thunder’ on your birthday, so your response was to… Pretend to be a girl? Instead of, oh I don’t know,” You try to hold back your laughter again, choking lightly on your words, “Throwing another party?” Michael seems to take a moment to absorb this- then begins to laugh alongside you.

“Well, that would’ve only been easy, Y/N. When have you known me to do things the easy way?” You both laughed again, and you began to shake your head.

“Never.” When your laughter finally dies down, you meet his eyes once again. Staring at each other, it's like you both finally understood. You thought he was just ignorant, but you had been missing out on important information as well. He began to nod, glancing over his shoulder toward the nearby wall clock.

“Well, looks like I kept you long enough. Time to clock on out!” He jumps up, shooting finger guns before backing up. He trips over the edge of the divider, tries to play it off, and then groans loudly when he sees Toby walking by. “God, every time!”

You chuckle to yourself, then begin the process of shutting down your computer and packing up. Kelly skirts around the divider quickly once the door closes behind Michael, leaning into your space. “Let me drive you.” You hesitate, widening your eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“To the pub! Let me drive you!” You laugh nervously, beginning to shake your head.

“Oh, uh, no. I have my own car, but thank you-”

“If you drink, you won’t be able to drive home.” She counters, raising her eyebrows at you. You laugh again, shaking your head.

“Well, if we’re all drinking, wouldn’t you drink too?” She shakes her head immediately, crossing her arms.

“I don’t drink at all.” You still feel hesitant, and it must show on your face as she sighs and then leans in. “I’ll tell you Jim’s whole deal.” This catches you, looking back at her to study her.

“What do you mean…?”

“I’ll tell you if you let me drive you!” You huff a laugh, smiling despite yourself. “Yeah, alright. But if I don’t drink, you gotta’ take me back here so I can drive myself home.”

“Deal! And if you do, then I’ll drive you home and pick you up for work tomorrow morning!” You laugh again, shaking your head as you pick your briefcase up, finished with closing down your desk for the day.

“You seem excited about this.”

“Absolutely! I’ve been waiting forever!”

You were still unsure what she meant but followed along with the hyperactive girl as she burst through both of the doors to the breakroom. You watch Jim straighten where he had been leaning against Pam’s receptionist's desk, and smile toward you as you made your way to the exit.

“You know,” Jim starts, huffing a soft laugh and smiling in a way that took your breath away, “I was thinking.”

“Oh,” You draw out, smiling despite yourself, “Dangerous territory there, Halpert.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim begins, laughing again. He takes a discreet look around before reaching forward to almost take your hand, his fingers tangling with your own but not quite grasping. “I was hoping that maybe I could drive you down to the pub? I know you have your own car and all, but I just want to make sure you’re safe with getting home, y’know?” Your face falls just as you hear Kelly’s voice behind you.

“Oh, don’t worry Jim! He has a ride already.” Jim looks toward Kelly over your shoulder, then back to you with wide eyes, pulling his hand away.

“Already?” Jim looks back to Kelly, confusion clear across his face.

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist, Jim!” You feel her small hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you toward the door. “We’ll meet you there!”

You take one last look at Jim through the glass doors as Kelly drags you along to the elevator. You hesitate, mind trying to catch up, before you finally clear your throat and look at her. “No offence here, Kelly, but I honestly think I would’ve preferred riding with Jim?”

“You’ll have the rest of your life to ride with Jim. Just let me tell you what I need to tell you without the risk of Jim hearing us.” You both step onto the elevator, as Kelly begins mashing the button for the lobby.

“Uh,” Your mind is stuck, repeating ‘rest of your life’ and ‘Jim’ over and over. “This feels… Is this nefarious?”

“‘Nefarious,’” Kelly mocks, pulling you once the doors open again. “You say the oddest things sometimes.” You didn’t know which car was hers, but considering she was dragging you along, you didn’t have to guess. She pulls your briefcase from your hands, finally letting go of you, and you just stand in place. She throws your suitcase and her purse into the backseat, then opens the driver's door with a look up at you. “Well, get in!”

It was quiet for a long portion of the drive. You didn’t know what to ask, or how to even broach the subject. Did it seem too eager, to ride along with her just because she promised to tell you about Jim? And what was she even talking about- how would Kelly know more about Jim than you? True, you both hadn’t been friends for very long just yet, but you didn’t know Kelly and Jim were friends?

“So, it started when you started transitioning,” Kelly said, bursting you from your whirlwind of questions. “We all got pretty curious. I was the one who had the theory you were trans first.” She winces, looking over to you. “Sorry. I didn’t know at the time how true I was. I honestly didn’t even know if you knew about it, but- well, obviously you did.” You tilt your head, brow furrowing.

“You all were talking about me before we were friends?”

“Well, you know how the office is. You were changing, and people were noticing. Especially Pam and Jim. Pam, who is such a sweetheart and just wants everyone to be comfortable. She had a feeling you were never quite comfortable at the office but didn’t know how to help. Jim found you hot, which was throwing him for a loop considering he is gay, and normally not attracted to-” She hesitates, tilting her head. “Well, we did think you were a girl at the time.”

You nod along, unoffended. “Right, but-” You scoff, shaking your head, “I don’t know if I believe this story now. I mean, Jim? Finding me-” You almost say the word, then scoff softly and look down to your lap. “Attractive?”

“Well, you are hot,” Kelly confirms, and you look up quickly at her. You aren’t sure what expression is on your face, but Kelly just laughs. “What? Don’t look at me like that! You were hot when we all thought that you were a girl, and you’re even hotter now that we know you’re a boy!” You laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. Kelly continues on, pushing through your awkwardness. “I mean, c’mon! Confidence is sexy as hell.”

You look away, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you remember Jim saying something similar. “Sure, but-” Kelly interrupts you, continuing with her story.

“So once you finally came out, Jim had his own little freak-out because it wasn’t just a theory anymore. It is true, you are a dude, and Jim didn’t know if he could handle you getting hotter and hotter every day.” You flashback to another scene in your head, Jim saying something similar to Pam and you laughing, accusing him of finding Dwight attractive. Was he talking about you at that time? Kelly’s voice brings you back.

“Anyway, I finally told him that he needed to get his act together and ask you out already, or I’d do it first. Either ask you out for myself or for him, but either way. I don’t know if I could stand any more of him spewing about you, I mean- all I heard was Y/N this, or Y/N that, or ‘Wow he’s wearing the tie I gifted him!’ I mean, that man can talk.” You hold back a laugh, shaking your head. The one and only Kelly Kapoor, complaining about someone talking too much. That’d be hilarious to tell Jim- if you ever got the nerve together to tell him about this little conversation.

“Ok,” You huff out, shaking your head, “You’re asking me to believe that Jim not only finds me attractive but wants to date me?”

“Well, that’s where we’re going now! So you better believe it.”

“Going now- but you’re here? The office will be there, how would it be a date?”

“It’s going to be a date,” Kelly starts slowly, looking at you with a grin, “Because it’s not an office hangout. I’m going to drop you off and leave, and then Jim can take you home. I only did this to get you both together outside of work, you’ll be all alone with him.” She huffs, squeezing the steering wheel around her hands. “And I’m telling you all of this before the date because I don’t trust Jim to admit anything to you without pushing him for it. If I’m not there to pressure him, then-”

“Woah woah woah,” You interrupt, shaking your head quickly. “I’m not about to pressure my best friend for- for some wild hope that he might feel the same. And I-” You can feel the panic again, pulling at the seatbelt around your torso. “I don’t know if I can do this, I didn’t know it would be just us, I mean-”

“Calm down, it’ll be fine. It’s just Jim, remember?” ‘It’s just Jim,’ You repeat to yourself as Kelly turns the car into the pub’s parking lot. You take a few deep breaths, nodding your head. ‘Yeah, I can do this. It’s just Jim, just normal ole Jim.’ Kelly backs her car into a space, waiting for Jim’s to arrive. It doesn’t take long to notice Jim’s car pulling in, parking in one of the front parking spaces, directly in your line of sight. You take another deep breath, nodding.

“I can do this,” You whisper, and Kelly reaches over to squeeze your arm. That’s when you watch two of the car doors open, Jim and Pam stepping out to take a look around. You hear a squeak beside you, Kelly’s hand tightening on your arm. You look over with concern, watching panic written across her face.

“Oh, Jim, you bitch,” Kelly whispers, shaking her head.

“This wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

“Absolutely not,” Kelly whispers, then moves to get out of the car alongside you. You both approach the other two, smiles on your faces. They finally notice you, and it’s almost like you and Jim have locked eyes and thrown away the key. You’re unsure what’s really happening between the two girls, not registering the words exchanged. You walk a little closer to Jim, smiling up at him.

“Hey,” You whisper, and his smile widens, reaching his hand out in an imitation of earlier, tangling your fingers together.

“Hey.” He glances over to the other two girls, wincing and looking back to you. “I wasn’t sure- is it okay that I brought Pam?”

“Apparently,” You whisper, leaning closer and glancing briefly at Kelly to make sure she’s sufficiently distracted, “That wasn’t part of the plan. She told me she was throwing me out of the car and driving off.” You note the blush lighting up Kelly’s cheeks as she talks with Pam, before turning your attention back to Jim. You hadn’t realized you leaned in this close- or did he lean in as well? His face was next to yours, close enough to share a kiss.

“Shall we head inside? Guys?” You both jump apart, and you look guiltily over to Pam, who spoke. She only smiled in response, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. “We could grab a booth?”

The night was going well. It didn’t really feel like a date like Kelly had hoped it to be, but instead a nice get-together of a couple friends. You all laughed constantly, telling stories and jokes from the office, while also sharing your own life’s stories. No one really talked about their own life outside of the office while they were working, so it was a refreshing twist on things. You felt drawn even closer to the lot of them- Jim, especially, as he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from you for too long. You weren’t sure, but you thought it was Jim’s leg under the table pressing against your own. You hoped so, anyway.

“But, yeah, Toby is so weird! You guys don’t get that vibe?” Pam continues, giggling as she sips her mixed drink. Jim and Kelly were the only two keeping away from the alcohol, but you had ordered your favourite mixed drink and had slowly been sipping on it. You knew you weren’t drunk yet, but you were pleasantly tipsy.

“No?” You hesitated, trying to think back over the times you’ve interacted with him. It was more often than most since you worked in the annexe, but he always seemed like a nice, if tired, man.

“It’s cause he has a crush on you,” Kelly nods, laughing alongside Jim. Pam blushes, shaking her head quickly.

“Oh, no, of course not.”

“Well, Kelly would know,” Jim points out with a grin, raising his glass to his mouth and taking a large gulp. You watch confusion rush across Pam’s face, while Kelly’s turns a bright shade of red. She mouthed his name behind her cup, giving him a stern look.

“What does he mean by that?” She asks, looking between you and Kelly, then back at Jim. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” You begin, laughing under your breath. “Just that Kelly has a lot of experience talking with Toby. He was the one who moved her into the annexe, after all. It almost seems like they have a lot in common?” You end it with a question, trying your best to be vague. Jim almost spits out his drink with his laugh, turning to cough into the crook of his arm.

You hear Pam question, “Yeah, why were you moved into the annexe?” Right as Kelly mumbled from beside you, “Not that much in common. Like one thing.” You and Jim meet eyes, trying to keep the humour from your faces.

The rest of the night passed in much the same way. You still were unsure about the whole ‘Jim liking you’ bit but found yourself pleasantly hopeful. And it seemed like- if that was true- maybe Jim was trying to get back at Kelly by teasing her about liking Pam. You began to wonder if that was his plan all along, showing up with Pam randomly. Honestly, whether this was a double date or just a hang-out with friends, you found yourself enjoying the time immensely. But the night was wearing thin, and all four of you had work in the morning.

As you and Pam were helping each other out of the booths, making sure she hadn’t forgotten her purse, Jim and Kelly had run off to pay the bill. You glanced over at Jim- probably with a longing look since you can’t exactly help it, being slightly inebriated- and watched him lean in close to Kelly as they began whispering back and forth.

“He’s a good guy, y’know.” You look back over to Pam, eyes widening. “I don’t know you well enough yet to know your thoughts on him, but he is a good guy. And he deserves the world.” You chuckle softly, nodding.

“Yeah,” You say breathlessly, looking back over to him. He glanced up at the same time, and you can’t help the smile crossing your face. “I think so too.”

“Then tell him,” Pam insists, and you look back down to her. “He deserves to know that. He thinks he’s not worth your time, apparently.”

“That’s ridiculous-”

“What’s ridiculous?” Jim asks as the other two rejoin you and Pam. Pam smiles brightly leaning over to take Kelly’s arm.

“That you have to drive all the way across town just to drop me off, Jim!”

“Actually, we were just talking about that,” Kelly mumbles, and you smile watching her attempt to hold eye contact with Pam unsuccessfully. “If it’s okay with you, then maybe I could take you home? And Jim can take Y/N.”

“Yes!” Pam practically yells out, and you chuckle softly. You look over toward Jim, seeing him already looking your way.

“If that’s alright with you?” He whispers, and you nod immediately.

“Of course it is, Jim.”

“Good,” Jim says, releasing a breath as if with relief.

“Good,” You parrot, reaching forward boldly to take his hand. “Lead on, then.”

Once you and Jim make it to his car, you both wait before getting in to make sure Pam and Kelly are in their car safe and buckled. Once Kelly begins pulling out, Jim turns to you and leans in closer. “I had a fantastic time today.” You laugh, nodding along, leaning against his car and gravitating toward him.

“I did too. ‘Was surprised that Pam showed up, though.”

“Well, Kelly did say it was ‘the office’ going out for drinks. I thought it’d be fine.”

“Well, she didn’t actually mean the office, apparently. She was just trying to get us alone.” You shrug, smirking up at him. His deer-in-headlights look was gone now, for some reason. He seemed bold, leaning closer and taking your hand.

“And if it was? Would that have been fine?” You laugh again, nodding slowly.

“That would’ve been perfect.” His face slowly loses his teasing look, turning serious- but soft.

“Y/N,” Your name is husky in his mouth as he begins leaning closer, and you can smell his cologne in the air. Everything was so much, his smell, his body heat, his honey-brown eyes as he took up your entire vision. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” You whisper in return and meet him halfway as your lips crush together. He pulls the hand not holding yours to your face, lightly caressing your cheek throughout the heated kiss, and you grab hold of his hip with your own free hand, pulling him closer. You can feel him moan through the kiss, turning his head to deepen it. This was nothing like you’ve dreamed of- but oh, so much better.

When you two finally part, breathing heavily, he’s pressing you against his car with the length of his body. You both pant as you stare into each other’s eyes, and your grip slowly loosens on his hip. Eventually, he pulls away, clearing his throat with a blush. “Wow,” He whispers, a smile growing as he looks at you bashfully.

“Yeah,” You agree just as quietly, and Jim moves to open the passenger door for you. “Oh, right. Thank you.”

As you sat down in Jim’s car, ready to be driven home, you can’t help but think: ‘Man, I love working for Dunder Mifflin. Even the bad days can turn into the best ones.’

Tag List: @ltnoscara @zombieboyevan @cursedashes

#jim halpert x reader #jim halpert x trans reader #ftm!reader #gay!jim #pam beesly #michael scott #kelly kapoor #bi!kelly #the office toby mentioned #dwight shrute mentioned #drinking in moderation #happy ending #the office #fanfiction

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