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darklordofthesimp · 2 years ago

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Anything IV (König x Reader)

Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

Requested by: Literally fucking everyone.

A/N: WHY WAS THIS SO HARD TO WRITE???

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic language

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

You were exhausted.

Sleeping was a luxury that you couldn't afford, not that you hadn't been trying. You weren't fond of the night terrors that came to visit whenever you closed your eyes. They were the worst part of it all, you thought.

It was early, too early for training but, nonetheless, you slowly crawled from your bed. It didn't take long to get ready but it did take time to pull yourself from the mirror.

You couldn't stop staring at the reflection. Saying that it was you staring back seemed far-fetched in all honesty- the creature you observed was unrecognizable. You considered some makeup to cover the bruising, but there was nowhere to hide the ragged divots in your face, dragged through by your own nails.

You couldn't hide a swollen nose, puffy eyes and a busted mouth. Your jaw was ballooned, and although the stitches were finally out from your face- the scars remained. You decided that no amount of money could hide your ugliness. Everyone knew what you looked like, everyone knew how fucking disgusting you were. It was almost more embarrassing to try and hide it, than to embrace it and pretend that you didn't care.

But you did. You cared too much.

You threw on some sweatpants and a hoodie, your training gear hidden beneath. You needed coffee- you needed something. Anything to get your blood moving in your body and force some adrenaline through your system.

You were so early.

You didn't want to go.

You'd been attempting to train with König for a couple of weeks now, never engaging in conversation and never looking him in the eye. Ghost had volunteered himself to chaperone your sessions and since then you'd been able to work more comfortably, though you knew it was selfish.

It was nobody's job to have to babysit you. This was an elite fucking task force, the best of the best and you had to be nursed back into health by one of the most renowned soldiers in the British Special Forces. It was embarrassing for everyone, to say the least. You felt disgusting, you felt pathetic- though, you supposed that's exactly what you were.

Fucking pathetic.

You'd expected the gym to be dark, the lights off and abandoned at this early hour. Especially on a Saturday, there was no one at work. Those who lived on base would usually leave the night before to go drinking or camping, crawling back in shame on the Sunday afternoon. Ghost would be around but this early in the morning you knew he'd be out on his motorcycle, waiting for the sunrise to light up the highway.

Upon further inspection, you realized that the door was open. The blinds were still down but the light was on, illuminating the hallway you stood in. There was a low hum from inside, melodic and seamless. You raised a brow as you approached, peering into the doorway.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of König.

The beast was leaned over, singing a wordless tune that you didn't recognise, voice as smooth as silk. He was laying out the foam mats, running his fingers over the raised surface until it was completely flat. Finally, the sniper stood straight to observe his handiwork with a nod.

He was larger than life when he stretched his arms over his head, groaning at the movement. Some part of you, deep down, was in awe of his sheer size. The other, more dominant, part of you reminded you that he'd been too big for you to stop.

You were frozen in place, unable to move and unable to take a breath in fear that he'd hear you. König's senses were sharp and the slightest noise would tip him off to your gawking.

When he sat down on the bench with a solemn sigh, your blood began to simmer beneath your skin.

"Did you want to come in, Birdy?" König's voice was gentle but you still jumped at the sound of it. A gasp slipped from your lips at the exposure and he tilted his head at the noise, leaning his elbows against his knees.

Your mouth dried. How did he know that you were there? You hadn't made a sound.

"Not particularly," you cleared your throat, as he pulled the balaclava from over his head. Dark hair spilled from beneath the fabric, messy and thick. He never kept a mask on when you were around, regardless of whether it was a balaclava or that damned hood.

"I thought we were past this," he sighed, putting the mask down by his side. He never turned to face you, giving you the option to leave without the pressure of his gaze.

I thought we were past this.

Heat flushed through your system like a volcanic eruption, originating in your chest and shooting across your nerves.

"Past you ruining my life?" You offered as calmly as you could manage. "No. No, I'm actually not past it."

"I meant," König corrected firmly, turning around to face you with narrowed eyes, "are we not past this."

While he didn't say anything different, the meaningful stare told you enough.

Are we not past you coming inside every time, even though you say that you won't?

You stared at him for a long moment, that emerald gaze unwavering. It was nothing like what you'd seen that night, he was a completely different person. You wondered when he would snap, you wondered when you would snap.

You saw hints of the man you'd encountered sometimes during sparring, never with you but occasionally with Simon. He targeted König, always making a point to put him on his ass but a part of you wonders if the soldier was letting him do it. It was almost too easy sometimes, as though the man had just given up halfway through.

You stepped through the doorway tentatively, eyes never leaving König's. He held his body so still that you wondered if he was breathing, reminding you of the way a snake freezes before it strikes.

You moved to the other side of the mats, sitting down on the bench opposite your partner.

"I figured you'd be up," König rubbed the back of his neck, his shoulders relaxing the second you took a seat. "I got you a coffee."

You blinked at him.

"What?"

"I got you a coffee?" The words were uncertain now as he leaned back slightly. He gestured towards the cup tray beside him, two drinks in foam cups steaming at his side.

You couldn't force a response from your lips- you couldn't do anything, really, other than gawk at him. Why he'd gone out of his way to get you a coffee was beyond you, obviously he was guilty but you'd made it clear you wanted none of his pity.

"Don't overthink it, Birdy," König raised a brow. "It's a coffee. Just take it."

"Yeah," you rasped. "Yeah."

But you didn't move.

Your limbs felt like they'd been filled with lead, your heart beating against your ribs violently. Grabbing the coffee shouldn't have been an issue, getting up is not difficult, so why were you not responding to mental commands? You felt helpless, the realization that your mind and body were no longer yours to control- rather you were ruled by fear that you couldn't grasp.

You clenched your jaw tightly.

Move, Birdy.

The Austrian tightened his lips awkwardly, fingers running through his hair like an anxiety tic. The both of you sat in uncomfortable silence before finally he reached for the cup, standing to his feet.

You remained deathly still as he approached, stopping a safe distance away before he stretched his hand out. The semblance to extending an olive branch was too obvious not to take note, although you'd be the first to snap any branches this man offered.

But this wasn't some stupid peace twig. This was coffee. König had bought you a drink. You just needed to take it, you needed to move.

Move, Birdy.

"It's just a coffee," the man offered you a weak smile but you could see the apprehension in his gaze. He was wondering if you were going to break, every fiber of his being preparing to restrain you if you had another episode.

If you had another psychotic break over a fucking cup of coffee, you'd be out of the 141 for good.

Move, Birdy.

It's just coffee.

"It's just a coffee," you whispered.

Your fingers wrapped around the cup, the heat jarring from your thoughts. König let loose a shaky sigh that you knew you weren't meant to hear. You'd become so unstable that even the man who had destroyed you was afraid.

Your skin brushed against his as you forced yourself to tighten your grip, the brief touch electrifying and jarring.

He snatched his hand away as though you'd burnt him with the contact. It wasn't like you'd never touched beyond the incident, you sparred with him nearly every day. But that was sparring, this was not.

König took a seat, his gaze averted and his nails digging into the bench. You took the first sip, eyes never leaving his form.

Just a coffee, Birdy.

You took another swig, reminding yourself to taste the drink. You thought of the texture, the temperature, the flavor- anything to ground you from your thoughts and drag you back to reality. When your mind began to settle and you could finally register the taste, your eyes widened.

It was exactly your order.

You almost choked.

Before you could ask anything of it, the soldier returned his attention to rest on you, briefly taking in your visage. He was still concerned, the twist of his mouth clearly apprehensive.

"We've never really spoken about what happened," König rasped, the vulnerable tremor in his voice ringing clear.

Your spine straightened and the cup creaked beneath your grip.

"Because I don't want to talk about what happened."

"You can't avoid it forever, Birdy," the man bit, sharp and surprising. You leaned away from him, taken aback by the frustration woven through his tone. He always made an effort to be calm and speak in dulcet tones, going against his nature to appear disarming wherever he could help it.

The smouldering coals in his gaze reminded you that König was neither soft nor gentle.

"No," you snapped, "but I can avoid talking about it with you."

König grit his teeth.

"Who else was there, Birdy?" He hissed, leaning his elbows onto his knees. The question was rhetorical but you almost felt compelled to answer him. Those jade eyes flashed with a bitterness that you couldn't understand, intense and pleading. "It was me and you and no one else."

"What do you want me to say, König?" You spat, standing to your feet. Rage blistered through your being, buzzing beneath your skin and electrifying your nerves. You wanted to throttle him, you wanted to grab him and shake him until it finally shut him up.

"I want you to just listen to me," the soldier implored, moving to stand but thinking better of it. You saw his hesitation, the understanding that once he stood up it wouldn't be a conversation it would be intimidation.

Shut up.

"I don't want to hear a word from your fucking mouth," you growled, pointing an accusatory finger at his frozen silhouette. "Unless it's to get me back on the job that you stole, I don't want to hear a thing from you."

Just shut up.

"I'm trying to fucking apologise, Birdy!"

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

"Just shut up!" Your voice had escalated into a barely legible scream, storming towards the seated beast. You pushed through the barriers of his personal space, but König stayed solid, his eyes hard and his mouth set.

You were toe to toe, nose to nose and eye to eye.

Your mouth twisted into a sneer.

"You think you can buy me coffee and that's it, we're friends?" Your voice was low, and your fingers dug into the thighs that you stood between. His cheek twinged at your grip but other than that, the mountain of a man made no move to budge. He observed you from beneath his lashes, his eyes as hard as stone and you wondered if he was breathing.

"No," König replied simply, his words tracing your lips. "What I do think is that we need to get past this, one way or another."

You glared at him, your fingers trembling against his legs.

"I'll get past this, the day I can look in the mirror and get past the mutilated thing staring back at me."

"I'm sorry-" he began but you grit your teeth, leaping to interrupt those goddamned words from leaving his stupid mouth.

"I don't want-"

König's hands suddenly landed above your own, holding them tightly as a growl tore from his throat.

"Listen to me."

You fell silent immediately.

Emerald eyes searched your own, imploring you to just hear him, even if it was for a moment. If you were going to ignore everything he said, he wouldn't care because at least he got them out. At least he knows that you've heard them.

"I'm so, so sorry for what I did to you, Birdy." König murmurs, swaying forward and taking up precious inches in the space between you both. His eyes were soft, vulnerable as he bared himself. "As far as I knew, you were an enemy sniper and I was trying to protect my family. I know that you understand that, Birdy, because the 141 is your family."

You stared at him, furious with the tears burning your eyes, embarrassed by your emotionally fragile state.

"I know that you don't want to forgive me, I don't expect you to. It's okay to be angry but you have to help me fix this. For both of our sakes, Bird, let me fix this." The words were whispered by the end of it, searching your features with hopeful eyes.

"I don't trust you," you wanted to shout at him but the sentence was venomless on your tongue. König's lip quirked upward, his shoulders pulling into a small shrug.

"You trust me enough."

"I don't trust you at all."

There was venom in that and the soldier's features became solemn once more. You were not his friend, you did not forgive him and you would not be tricked into believing that this was something worth just getting over.

"You trust me enough." König repeated himself, raking over your silhouette from head to toe meaningfully.

Suddenly, you realized where you stood.

Wedged between his thighs, your fingers gripping his legs and his hands covering yours. You flinched backward, eyes flickering at your proximity. You could taste his sentences on your tongue, so close you noses would brush if you had moved an inch.

You had allowed yourself to be in a room alone with König and willingly put yourself in his grasp.

A cough from the doorway had you leaping apart from the man as if you'd been burnt.

Your chest heaved as your heart smashed against your ribs, begging to be let loose from its constraints. A low exhale fell from the man beside you, as though reminding himself to breathe.

"Well," Price whistled, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. "That's sure a sight at 6am."

You cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck. A lot had happened in the time that you and König had confronted each other, none of it was easy to explain. In fact, none of it was easy to even understand yourself.

"We were just waiting on Ghost," you rasped, shrugging nonchalantly.

Price raised a disbelieving brow but up didn't press, only shooting König a look dripping with warning. He didn't like that you were alone in here with him, but the man had no right. He was the one that assigned König to you, he was the one that took him in as your replacement.

John Price was just as guilty as König, except his charge was betrayal.

A sneer settled on your lips at the reminder.

"Well, guess you can meet our newest member a bit early then."

Newest member?

König sucked in a breath from beside you when a figure moved around behind Price's frame. They stood straight, appearing taller than they were with confident posture.

Immediately, you knew that they would be trouble.

Not by the smirk gracing their lips and not even by the distinct look of distaste that was smeared across their expression- but, the way that they stared at you as though you were a challenge waiting to be conquered.

Like you were easy game.

"As the 141 grows," Price began, gesturing to the small part of the team in the room, "we need more members to join roles that were previously left to one person."

Your stomach churned.

"Obviously, Birdy, you've been our main sniper but now we need more than one." The Captain was careful with his wording, watching you as though you were a ticking time bomb set to detonate any second now.

You fucking felt like one.

As you observed the newest addition, they stared right back, raking in your visage from head to toe. Their crooked smile had you on edge, had you unnerved- but it also thrilled you. This person saw you as a threat.

They didn't see a broken bird, someone helpless. Behind the arrogant smirk and the cocky body language, there was a hardness to their gaze. They weren't underestimating you, they still saw something across your face that indicated that you weren't done.

But they were ready to meet you head on.

Your expression turned stony.

"And who is my newest replacement?" You ground out, eyes never leaving theirs. A feral grin pulled at their lips, amusement flooding their expression. It fucking made you seethe. Price opened his mouth to either introduce them or reprimand your clear rejection, but the sniper stepped forward with a snort.

"They should have called you 'Sunshine.'"

#konig x reader #könig x reader #könig modern warfare #könig imagine #call of duty #König #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig #konig modern warfare #konig fanart #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #cod mw2 x reader

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 2 years ago

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𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Summary: Some nights you just can't seem to sleep no matter how hard you try, it's alright though because Miguel's on his way home.

Warnings: None, it's just very, very soft.

A/N: Not a request, but I have to write at least one fic about dancing in the middle of the night with Miguel. Set in the same universe as What's In Between, listen to the song mentioned here. Enjoy!

Everyone has those nights where they just can’t fall asleep. Whether it’d be the stresses of the day before or the next, an issue that has been troubling you, or simply because you can’t shut off your mind and fall asleep, it inevitably happens to us all.

Unfortunately for you, that was tonight. After tossing and turning for the last two hours, you had enough.

Maybe it was because the bed just felt so empty without Miguel in it, who knows.

All you knew was that you could not fall asleep. So what better thing to do than to make a late-night snack?

Sliding out of bed, you blearily blink your eyes as they readjust to the kitchen light. After a few moments of scrolling through your playlists you settle on a soft one, to match the mood of the early morning (or late night depending on who you asked).

The music played softly in the background as you made your favourite snack, humming along to the song. Miguel’s shirt hung loosely down your frame as a warm summer breeze floated in through the open window.

The reason you loved the night so much was because it was so quiet. So simple, so peaceful, with only the light of the moon shining its way.

“One day, I will stop falling in love with you~” you sing softly, swaying from side to side in between bites, a happy little smile on your face.

Miguel watched as you swayed gently from side to side, a soft look on his face as he feel himself relax with your presence alone.

He still wore his Spiderman suit, the aches of a difficult mission starting to settle in his bones but he seemed to forget all of that the moment he saw you.

“Until then I’ll drink my coffee, eat my pie pretend that we are more than friends~,” you sing, swirling around as you feel that familiar prickle giving away his presence.

His eyes seem to widen slightly as you acknowledge him before a small smile settles on his face.

“Then of course I’ll let you break my heart again,” you say, making your way up to him as the smile on your face mirrors his own.

“Dance with me?” you ask him, holding out a hand for him to grasp. He only shakes his head.

“Mi alma, you know I’m not much of a dancer,” he replies but eyes your hand for a moment.

“Oh, c’mon Miguel,” you plead, a hand held out waiting for him to hold it. “Just one dance?” And even though he tried his hardest, he just couldn’t resist the look in your eyes.

“Alright, but just one,” he says, grasping your hand warmly before pulling you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your expression lights up as he does, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his chin.

He can’t help the smile that plays across his face, his heart growing so warm in fondness.

The longer he holds you in his arms, the more he can feel his body relax within your embrace as you sway from side to side with the slow melody.

Being a protector of the multiverses, he didn’t have time to be soft. Not when the decisions he made, when the decisions all the spiders had to make under his direction would destroy that softness in an instant….But with you, he could afford that vulnerability, because he knew you would hold the frail wounded heart hidden behind the walls he built gently.

He reserved that softness for you, only you.

“Someday, one day,” you continue to sing, and he lets your voice wash over him like a calm ocean wave. “I will stop falling in love with you.”

He lifts an arm up from your waist for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t think I ever could, querida,” he whispers softly. “Stop falling in love with you, I mean.”

You look up at him, unable to stop the tears from welling in your eyes at the admission but he wipes them away before they could fall.

“I don’t think I could either,” you say softly before leaning your head back on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “You’re stuck with me, unfortunately,” you chuckle, but he only pulls you closer.

“How are you feeling?” you ask hesitantly, noticing how he looked more tired than usual. You knew it was a 50/50 tossup as to whether he would answer in truth, but you knew he appreciated the thought.

It wasn’t often he allowed himself to be vulnerable, truly vulnerable with you. To spill all those thoughts swirling in the beautiful chaos that was his mind. That strong front he put up was the only thing that held him together.

“I’m alright, mi corazón,” he answers, though his eyes held the depth of a thousand words.

He was tired…but he was home.

Taglist: @remuslupinwifee

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader

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illusivelle · 7 months ago

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neighbour's dozen

pairing: carmen 'carmy' berzatto x reader rating: t (for now) length: 1,857 words content: mild cursing summary: what are neighbours for if not for borrowing a cup of flour when you're in need? a/n: thank you for being so gentle with me as i put these words out into the world! there's something really fun and intimate about the small, maybe mundane day-to-day things and i'm glad that's getting across. the little things. anyway, the brain rot continues... and so does the tension. read part one link to ao3 here!

No other packages were mistakenly sent to your door since the last one, although there were a couple of stray letters that slipped past. It only gave you another chance to talk to Carmy, though, and you weren't exactly displeased about it. You'd told him what you decided to do with the purple cauliflower — roasted and puréed into a soup with crispy sage on top, of course — and how much your elderly neighbour enjoyed it. And he told you how sad he was to not have gotten a jar delivered to his door, not even a taste.

Next time, the words flew from your mouth without a second thought, a promise of something more that made the both of you smile. An unspoken understanding about whatever was blooming between you two. Amicable friendship, maybe, though the way his eyes made your heart skip a beat had you hoping it was something else.

It wasn't a standing date. Not really. You knew if you told yourself it was, you'd only end up disappointed when you didn't see your neighbour at the market, but it'd been a few weeks since the very first time you did and at this point, it was almost clockwork. You were convinced — and even argued with him — that you always got to the market first, but that was only because you'd never spotted those soft curls or bright blues when you arrived. It was only when you looked up from picking herbs or sorting a bouquet from the flower buckets that he was already standing there next to you. Carmy, on the other hand, wouldn't budge on the fact that he always arrived right as the market opened, some stalls still setting up when he came, and that was the sole reason he found you so easily.

Because he was there first.

Oh, and because he always had a coffee for you in his hand. That part was much harder to debate.

It'd only taken a couple market trips to become acquainted with one another's drink order. It started with being the first stop after you'd run into each other, the same vendor who'd come to know you both as regulars separately. And then, Carmy started showing up with your drink ready, and there was an intimacy to it that made you uncomfortable. Insisting on paying him back, insisting to get the next one. But he never took your offer for money nor did he give you much opportunity to buy it first, and your discomfort soon turned into fondness.

It was a little thing, a tiny detail of your day, but it set the tone — and meant more than you could possibly express to someone who was just supposed to be your neighbour.

You found other ways to pay him back, though. You made the purple cauliflower soup again, this time with extra serving just for him. He had no notes for you and you wondered if he was just being polite or if he truly enjoyed it that much. Each night, he'd go to the restaurant and cook for everyone else but when was the last time anyone cooked for him? This was the thought lingering in the back of your mind anytime you made anything, including now as you worked on measuring the dry ingredients for an old cookie recipe you'd been craving.

Only to find that, because you were thinking of Carmy, you didn't have enough flour.

Only to find that, because you were thinking of Carmy, you were knocking on his door.

"Hi." He had an arm up against the doorframe, leaning on it, ocean blues scanning you from head to toe. "You okay?"

"Huh?"

"You, uh, you've got…" he chuckled softly, "a little something. D'you mind?"

"I— no?" Your words were barely above a whisper, your attention stolen by the way he swept his tongue along his lower lip and made them shine.

It wasn't until Carmy's hand stretched out, a tender brush of his knuckles and then his thumb along your cheek and so dangerously close to your mouth, that your gaze finally locked with his again.

And what a mistake that was because he held your stare as he brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking the tip of it with a smile. "Baking?"

"I… was, yeah. I am."

"Do I get to be your taste tester?"

There was a beat of silence as your mind slowly tried to catch up to your body. "I'll make a neighbour's dozen, don't worry."

"A neighbour's… dozen?"

"Like a baker's dozen, but—"

"No, I know," he smiled wryly, "but what if I want more than just one?"

"Greedy, Carmen." You teased.

His chin dipped into his chest, those tufts of brown curls moving as he did and sending a strand falling against his temple. That dimple on his cheek deepened, and you swore you watched as his skin turned from pale to pink.

"A neighbour's dozen will be an extra twelve just for you."

Carmy's eyes flicked up while his head was still slanted down, the shimmer of mirth in them undeniable. "Deal."

"Deal."

"Okay."

"Only if—"

"Ah, so there are terms." He lifted his head and pressed his cheek against the doorframe, the arm just above curled around it flexing with the motion and god, how did he manage to look so effortlessly handsome?

You bit down on your lip, drawing it in with a smile that feigned innocence. "Unfortunately, I ran out of flour, and I was hoping my next door neighbour might have some to lend me."

Carmy didn't react. You thought maybe you'd read the situation all wrong, that maybe showing up at his door and asking for things was breaching some kind of unwritten agreement you had or crossing a line you hadn't known existed. You'd been about to open your mouth to take it back when a grin split his lips, Carmy pushing his door open wider and gesturing for you to come in.

"What— what was that, dramatic pause?"

"Had to build up the suspense a little," he laughed softly, "you, uh, did you really think I wouldn't?"

You blinked back rapidly a few times, shock turning into amusement with every step you took further into his apartment. "There was a chance, yes. What if you didn't have any?"

"Then we'd go get some."

The answer was quick, easy, as if it were the only answer in the entire world, and it made you falter in your tracks.

The layout of his space was similar to yours, only flipped, and yet you couldn't help but look around anyway. Pockets of his apartment felt untouched while others felt wholly lived in. The couch, clearly worn in and used, along with the coffee table littered with papers, pens, markers, a notebook and some glasses. There was hardly anything hanging from his walls but he did have a bookshelf, mostly full with spines you couldn't make out this far away.

"You can, um, you can have it."

You turned to look at Carmy, now standing in front of you with an entire bag of flour in his hands. "Oh, no, I just need a—"

"I don't bake anyway. I just, you know, cook."

"And you don't need flour for that?"

"I'll come knocking at your door if I do."

"Are you sure, Carmy?"

"M'sure." It was only flour, you told yourself, taking it from his hands without missing the way his fingers grazed over yours in the exchange. "Only if—"

"Ah, more terms."

One hand darted up into his hair, mussing the brown curls and you could only wish that you'd been the one to do that for him. To feel how soft they'd be as you untangled them or massaged his scalp after a long day.

"M'just kidding. I'm happy with, uh, with our original terms."

You held up the bag with a wide smile before tucking it into the crook of your arm. "Thank you. You're a life saver. A cookie saver, really."

"Yeah, of course."

As much as you wanted to stay here with him longer, you weren't exactly sure that would be appropriate. Sure, seeing your neighbour and keeping each other company at the market was one thing, but hanging out in his space was another. Right? And if Carmy really wanted you to, he'd ask, but he said nothing more as you started to walk back toward the door, flour in hand.

Once you were standing in the hallway again, you spun on a heel to face him, only to find him so incredibly close. So close that the bag of flour knocked right into his chest, your palms splaying out over the carved muscle you could feel hiding beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "I— so—"

"No, I'm so—"

"No, no. It's—"

"It's okay." He murmured, one hand covering yours and giving it a tight squeeze. Your heart squeezed in tandem, constricting so tight that it ached and stole the next breath from your lungs. "You okay?" Another tattooed hand snaked around your middle and flattened at your back, as if to steady your balance.

And while you might have been standing stick straight, there was no denying the way your knees felt weak and how your frame rocked forward ever so slightly, your heart thumping loudly behind your ribcage like it might lurch itself in the direction of Carmy's.

"Yeah, m'good. Thanks again."

"Yeah."

One second was all it took for the reality to wash down upon you, the one second it took for him to drop his hands and tuck them into his pockets. "See you around?"

"Okay." Willing your feet to move despite how heavy they felt, you eventually made your way down the hall, wiggling the handle to push into your apartment.

"Okay." Carmy called out, and it wasn't until you were inside your own apartment that you finally heard the door click moments before your own did.

Now that you'd gotten to know more about your neighbour, he wasn't just Carmen Berzatto, curly-haired blue-eyed boy-next-door with chicken scratch for writing and a fleeting dimple you wanted to see again.

He was more than that.

You set the flour down onto your kitchen counter and counted down from ten, inhaling deep breaths in through your nose and exhaling out through your mouth. And with every second that passed, you thought of all the different things you'd learned about him over the number of weeks.

Ten. Carmen Berzatto, double espresso connossieur. Nine. Carmen Berzatto, a subtle floral expert who always encouraged you to put an extra bunch of baby's breath in your bouquet. Eight. Carmen Berzatto, chef extraordinaire, with a sweet tooth he liked to hide. Seven. Carmen Berzatto, gym rat, because why else would he have arms like that, that distracting vein trailing down the centre of his bicep to his forearm? Six. Carmen Berzatto, thoughtful and kind neighbour, with marker stained tattooed hands that were always willing to help.

In through your nose and out through your mouth. Five, four, three, two, one.

Counting all the different ways you were so. utterly. screwed.

#the bear #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear imagine #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #jeremy allen white

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fanbasetwo · 24 days ago

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MATTHEW HAVING A SECRET CRUSH ON YOU!

NOTE FROM SENA , thank you tea for the help with the idea!! other requests will take time since I'm sort of exhausted these days and I don't want to rush into posting. [REQUESTED] (this is a fic in a headcanon manner) MASTERLIST!!

join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

i. THE MEET-CUTE AT THE WORK PARTY

It’s one of those awkward work gatherings where everyone’s either standing around quietly or sticking to their teams.

Matthew, the new guy, looks lost but also undeniably handsome with a shy demeanor. You decide to be kind and strike up a conversation because you’ve been there before.

He’s immediately drawn to how easygoing you are—how you make him feel like he belongs.

From that night on, he always remembers the way you smiled when you told him, “Hey, you’ll fit in just fine here. Don’t worry.”

He low-key starts looking forward to seeing you around the office the next day.

ii. THE WAY HE LOOKS AT YOU

Oh, and it’s painfully obvious to everyone but you.

When you’re in a group meeting, Matthew’s eyes involuntarily soften every time you speak. It’s the small things—he watches you talk with that fond look, as if you’re the only person in the room.

He’ll make small excuses to glance over at you, under the pretense of “checking emails” or flipping through papers.

Someone at work catches this (likely your co-worker who knows everything) and starts quietly teasing him about his not-so-subtle puppy-dog eyes.

iii. THE HANGING OUT MORE EXCUSES

At first, it starts casually. “Hey, want to grab a coffee after the team meeting?” “I haven’t tried that lunch spot yet, what do you think?”

Slowly but surely, these invites turn into semi-regular hangouts—he’ll always find a reason to ask.

You notice how he pays for your coffee every time, and if you try to insist on paying, he’ll shake his head with a shy smile. “I just wanted to treat you.”

You find it so cute that you stop fighting him about it.

iv. CATCHING HIM IN THE ACT

It’s a random monday morning, and you’re coming into work earlier than usual.

You spot Matthew at your desk, awkwardly leaving a chocolate bar and a small handwritten note. The note says something simple like, “I hope this makes your day a little better :)”—it’s so pure that your heart flips.

Before he can bolt, you call him out: “Matthew, what are you doing?”

He freezes mid-step, red creeping up his face. “Oh—uh, nothing! I was just—uh…morning!”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Are you bribing me for something?”

He laughs nervously but promises (because you caught him fair and square) that he owes you dinner—like an actual dinner.

v. THE DATE

Matthew doesn’t do things halfway; he picks a stunning, 5-star restaurant because he wants it to be special. He wants to impress you, but not in a flashy way—he just genuinely thinks you deserve the best.

He shows up looking ridiculously good in a suit, and you almost have to double-take because this isn’t your work Matthew; this is “effort” Matthew.

Throughout dinner, he’s attentive and genuinely interested in everything you say. He remembers the smallest details about you—your favorite drink, how you take your food, even random anecdotes you told him weeks ago.

When the check comes, you try to pay out of courtesy, but Matthew just shakes his head firmly. “Not a chance.”

“Matthew, let me—”

“What’s a wallet at this point?” he jokes, and you laugh because he’s genuinely so sweet about it.

vi. THE OFFICE GOSSIP

After your very clear date, you start hearing whispers around the office. Your co-worker corners you at lunch, gleefully reporting, “I knew who his crush was! It’s you. I knew it all along.”

You roll your eyes, flustered, but can’t help smiling because… well, they’re right.

vii. MATTHEW’S POST-DATE BEHAVIOUR

If you thought he was whipped before, it’s ten times worse now. He’s still nervous around you sometimes but far more confident about showing how much he cares.

He casually drops things at your desk—flowers, little snacks you love, or coffee when he knows you’re swamped.

He still insists on “treating you” because “you work hard, you deserve nice things.”

Eventually, he stops pretending it’s casual and just tells you, straight-up: “I really like you. You’re the best part of my day.”

And let’s be real: You like him just as much.

viii. THE ENDING

Matthew and you become the office “It” couple—everyone roots for you because, honestly, it was so obvious from the way he looked at you from day one.

He’s still spoiling you, still making you laugh, and still getting adorably flustered whenever you remind him just how much you like him back.

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swarvey · 6 months ago

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paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you convince harvey to go in the maze with you; harvey has some trouble sleeping. warnings -> not nsfw: mention of shane's cliff scene | nsfw! mdni. p in v, oral sex (reader receives), reader and harvey share a drink before wc -> 5025

a/n: i swear this chapter just. wrote itself. i think i blacked out writing half of it but i hoped y'all enjoy!!!, if there is any chapter where i recommend you to listen to the song in the title, it's this one!!! pls <333

also i'd love to hear where you guys think this is going heh

ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9

paper rings masterlist

chapter eight: i can see you -> "but what would you do if i went to touch you now?"

Harvey wouldn’t necessarily say he was a terrible sleeper.

Sure, he had his nights where the blankets wouldn’t feel quite right and the pillows refused to agree with him, but even then, he would typically fall asleep one way or another. Eight hours of undisturbed sleep was always his goal, and a couple of cups of coffee throughout the day would never fail to give him the push he needed. Although he used to be quite the night owl during his time at university — to the point where he had a regular rotation of energy drinks in his fridge — Harvey found he now preferred waking up early and having a slow start to his day.

That night, though, the clock struck an hour he hadn’t encountered in years.

3:43 A.M.

He knew it was going to hurt him throughout the next day, especially when he would inevitably have to open up the clinic and prepare for any patients. He knew it was unlike him, that logically, he should be reaching for his bottle of melatonin and taking a couple of pills to lull him to his dreams. He knew, of course, he knew, he was a doctor — he’d heard all of it throughout med school, how essential sleep was in everyone’s daily routine.

But how could he?

How could he allow his worn, blurry eyes to close and sink into the exhaustion weighing down his body, when you were fast asleep beside him?

It was wrong. Everything about the situation was completely and utterly wrong.

First off, he was absolutely not supposed to be in his bed, watching you peacefully doze with the blankets half-covering you. He resisted his urge to scoop you up into his arms and pretend the scene was normal.

Secondly, your clothes were not on your body, but instead were scattered across the bedroom. Harvey could feel your bare back just barely grazing his arm with every breath you took. As he glanced to the floor on his side of the bed, he could vaguely make out the shape of your bra, blushing at the memory that tagged along with it.

Thirdly, he should be asleep — he should have been asleep hours ago.

Yet, there he was, contemplating what choices had led him there in the first place.

A few hours earlier

“Harvey,” you said, crossing your arms and giving your best friend a deathly stare, “stop being such a baby.”

“Y/N, you of all people know I have never been fond of Spirit’s Eve,” he reasoned, holding his hands out in defense. “I am not stepping foot in that maze again. I refuse.”

Suddenly, you felt as if you were ten again, scowling before dragging Harvey off your farm. Your pet looked at you and wagged its tail as you bolted past it, tilting its head at the man who was begrudgingly letting you take him with you. You’d invited him to dinner at your place before the festival as a “treat,” though you really just wanted the opportunity to persuade him. After all those years, though, it seemed your friend was still the same ball of anxiety he’d always been.

“Please, I even tried doing it by myself last year, I couldn’t make it past the first turn. I’ll do anything else!” Harvey all but begged, and you glanced back at him with a skeptical stare. “I swear.”

You paused your steps, the cold, Fall air blowing on the back of your neck. “Really?” you asked, thinking of ways you could test his promise. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

Kiss me.

“Come to the mines with me.”

“What?! Absolutely not! I’ve treated the wounds you’ve gotten from that place — after countless reminders to be careful, mind you,” he chastised, and a smile twitched on your lips at the sight of his concern. “I wouldn’t last five minutes!”

“Exactly,” you responded bluntly. “But I bet you’d make it at least five minutes in the maze.”

He frowned, and when he didn’t reply, you decided you had to pull out your ultimatum.

Sighing, you turned around and forced yourself to hold back a grin at the sound of Harvey’s knowing groan.

“Oh, not this, Y/N, you can’t pull this again—”

“It’s fine!” you interrupted, beginning to walk away from him. “It’s totally fine, Harvs. I’ll just go in there, alone.”

“Please, this trick has worked on me enough in the past, but I won’t budge this time around.” Sure. As if you couldn’t already hear his determination wavering.

You shrugged. “Alright. Hopefully I’ll have fun in there, all by myself.” You stopped, turning your head slightly so you could emphasize your voice. “Without my closest friend. Who I haven’t gone to this festival with in years.”

You could practically see his defense crumble, closing your eyes and smiling triumphantly as he defeatedly walked up to you. “Fine,” Harvey sighed, and you peeked with one eye to see him shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Yes,” you laughed, grabbing his arm once more and excitedly heading to the festival you’d waited all year for.

As a kid, you had always loved Spirit’s Eve — the music, the food, the costumes, and, most importantly, the maze. You didn’t get to experience it too often, since you usually had to head back home by that time of the season, but when you did, it’d been some of the most fun you’d ever had. Before getting to know Harvey too well, your grandfather took you through the maze every year, keeping your hand tightly in his as he calmly took the lead. Whenever you flinched or shied away in fear, he would stop and reassure you. You still remembered how he’d kneel in front of you, meeting your teary, wide eyes with his own loving gaze.

“You don’t have to be scared, kiddo,” he said, patting your shoulder. “Your grandpa’s here to protect you. Besides, soon enough, you’ll be strong enough where you’ll need to protect me!”

He never failed to get a laugh out of you, no matter the place or time. It was back then you’d decided you would always try to be brave, and before you knew it, you were tackling the maze all by yourself, walking out triumphantly with the treasure in hand each time.

That is, until you met Harvey, and your visits to your favorite attraction were put on hold.

You couldn’t really complain, not when it meant you got to do arts and crafts with him at the kids’ table instead.

At your age, though, Harvey wasn’t allowed to have any more excuses. As the two of you entered the plaza, you were prepared to head straight to the maze, making a beeline for it when—

“Oof!”

“Oh my, I must apologize!”

You recognized the overly formal voice almost immediately, rubbing your forehead as you looked up at Elliott’s apologetic face.

“Are you alright?” he asked rapidly, grabbing your shoulders and checking you up and down. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much, especially on this already frightening night! Ah, Harvey, you are of medical expertise. Please, check our dear farmer and make sure she’s fine.”

“Elliott, please,” you laughed, shrugged off his hands, and nudged his arm. “It was an accident.”

“And she’s survived worse things,” Harvey chimed in. “I see you’ve already begun to enjoy the pumpkin ale?”

“What?” the poet questioned, running a hand through his silky hair. “Just what makes you think that, my friend?”

“Hey, if it isn’t the doc!” Shane seemed to answer his question for him, his voice a little too bright to be sober as he walked over beside Elliott. He perked a brow at you. “And he brought the farmer, too. Shocker.”

“Hello to you, too, Shane,” you greeted, noting the half-empty glass of ale in his hand. “You going to behave tonight?”

He huffed, offering the rest of his drink to you. You gladly took it, taking a sip and relishing in the delicious hint of sweet pumpkin. “You’re just a damn ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”

You gave Shane a satisfied smile as he shoved his hands in his pockets, the three of you listening to whatever ghost story Elliott was blabbering on about. All jokes aside, you had been a bit worried about Harvey’s friend. You’d known for a while he had a drinking problem, even sitting with him on the dock one night to have a few drinks with him, but never knew the extent to its severity until you found him beside a cliff one stormy day.

Since then, you made sure to check in on him once in a while and drop off a basket of peppers at Marnie’s whenever you got the chance. Your acts seemed to pay off, as the once cold man seemed to have finally warmed up to you, and as much as you despised the company he worked for, Shane proved to be a good friend. You knew him as much more than the town drunk, but as the pepper popper-loving, chicken caretaker who cherished those close to him.

Which is why you didn’t miss the curious glance he gave Harvey, to which the doctor quickly looked away and flushed pink.

Huh. Interesting.

“Some say, to this day, if you enter the Cindersnap Forest past midnight, you’ll—”

“There she is. We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You sighed out of relief at the sound of Haley’s familiar tone, practically melting into her as she grasped your arm. “Ugh, is he telling you the story about the woods, or whatever?”

Elliott gasped in offense. “Haley, I assure you, the story has much more meaning behind it than that.”

Before he could go on, Leah poked his arm, sparing the group of another tangent. “That’s enough, El,” she said amusedly. “Come on, weren’t we headed to the maze?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” You surged forward, gesturing for everyone to follow. “You promised, Harvey!” you called out, and the look you threw at him dared him to run away.

You heard him begin to protest once again, but he was cut off by a much louder, enthusiastic voice.

“Are you guys going into the maze, too?” You turned to meet Alex, accompanied by Sam’s bright grin. “You’re not scared, are you, farmer?” he taunted, leaning forward so his eyes were right in front of yours.

“Me?” You pressed a hand to your chest, looking back at him in shock. “Of all people? No way.”

The jock shrugged and backed off, flashing you a confident smile. “Whatever you say. If you need a bodyguard, you know who to call.” With that, he and his friend walked into the entrance, bumping into each other’s shoulders as they joked around.

Haley scoffed. “What an idiot. You could definitely kick his ass.” Leah laughed, and you noticed the soft smile that sat on the blonde’s lips at the sound. Who would’ve thought? Suddenly, you felt like you were third-wheeling.

Thankfully, Harvey came to your rescue, marching in front of the three of you with a renewed passion in his step. He looked over his shoulder, and you almost didn’t recognize the look in his eyes.

“Well?” he asked persistently. “Are we going?”

Harvey knew he was being painfully obvious at that point. He also knew Alex didn’t have bad intentions at all, that, if anything, the two of them had a common goal: to keep you safe.

He’d be lying if he said he cared, though.

If you’d told him a year ago he would be leading a group of people into the maze he’d feared pretty much his entire life, he would call you a liar. If you added in the fact he was doing it to impress you, he would tell you to set up an appointment with him so he could check your head. Yet, there he was, egging you and everyone else on to get their asses in the attraction already so he could prove you didn’t need some gridball player to protect you.

The second he stepped foot through the entrance, though, Harvey seriously questioned if it was worth it.

He never liked scary things — he was an awful person to watch horror movies with, and he had always been easy to startle, as you liked to prove time and time again. He didn’t really see a point in them. Why would he want to be terrified, when he could relax and enjoy himself instead? Logically, there was no real appeal to be scared.

Although, it seemed all logic was out the door, seeing that he’d already zoned out and gotten lost.

Fuck.

You’d been right there moments before, he swore on it. As Harvey frantically looked around him, though, he found he was alone, surrounded by the thick brush of the maze’s walls and chilling noises that gave him goosebumps. Sometimes, he truly questioned how he’d earned a college degree and even passed medical school with a brain like his. It seemed to stop working every time you were in the picture. I am an unbelievable idiot.

“Harvey?”

He blinked. He wasn’t being tricked, was he?

“Harvey, is that you?”

As the voice grew closer, Harvey realized it was not, in fact, a trick, and that he recognized the figure in front of him.

“Maru,” he breathed, shoulders slumping in relief. “God, I’m so relieved.”

She laughed at his reaction, and Harvey faintly remembered a time when his heart would have pounded at the sound. That was in the past, though, when he’d first moved to the Valley.

When he thought you had slipped from his grasp.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked. “I thought you hated this place.”

“Yes, well, uh, Y/N has always enjoyed it, so I thought I would give it another go.”

She glanced around them. “So, you came here with Y/N?”

“Yes, along with Leah and Haley.”

“Uh-huh. And just how did you get this lost?”

He sighed. “You tell me. Mazes have never really been my forte.”

She laughed again as she walked in front of him, gesturing for him to follow with a wave. “Come on, we’ll find them together.”

“Thank you, Maru.”

“Anytime, Harvey.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they trekked on, both listening for any familiar voices. Harvey had to admit, he felt much better with Maru there; her confidence as she walked reminded him of you. He couldn’t help but notice, though, the odd look in her eye, as if she were thinking something he didn’t quite understand.

“Are you alright?” he asked, slowing his pace. “You look a bit bothered.”

She didn’t reply right away, but paused her steps to look at him. “You . . . really like the farmer, don’t you?”

Oh, no. “Wh-What? I mean, of course I do, we’ve known each other for such a long time—”

“You know what I mean, Harvey.” There was no hostility in her tone, no bite. If anything, she sounded amused. “I think everyone’s seen it except you two.”

“I—” He paused. What was the point? “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted.

“Well,” Maru started, placing her hands on her hips, “you better treat her properly, okay? Honestly, if you felt that way, you should have asked her out in the Spring! What’s with all this dodging around and pretending you don’t feel it? Before you know it, it might be too late.”

There was an edge to her tone with those words, but Harvey didn’t have time to process it, distracted by the large shadow approaching them. Instinctively, he grabbed Maru and pushed her behind him, his own fear making his heart feel as if it were about to fly out of his chest.

“Is that you, Harvs?” At the sound of your voice, he could have cried in relief. “Seriously, how can someone get lost so quickly?”

You walked up to him with your two friends by your side, immediately eyeing the hand he had wrapped around Maru’s wrist. He dropped it, grateful the darkness hid his embarrassed face.

“I guess I got a bit ahead of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. Haley was glaring daggers into his skull. “Sorry for worrying you.”

You shook your head, sighing. “I mean, weren’t you the one who was terrified of coming in here in the first place? What’s gotten into you?”

“Actually,” Maru interrupted, stepping out from behind him, “Harvey was just talking about how he isn’t feeling very well.”

You perked a brow at him. “Really? Please don’t tell me you’re going to throw up in here, again.”

Harvey side-eyed Maru quickly — who refused to meet his glance — before nodding. “I am feeling a bit nauseous,” he agreed, and honestly, it wasn’t a complete lie. He was sure one more scare would cause the dinner you made him to end up on the side of the path.

“Gross,” Haley commented, taking Leah’s hand and continuing on with her. “I am not sticking around to deal with that. Come on, Maru.”

“Wait, where are you—”

“Drop him off, Y/N! Come find us when he isn’t about to yack all over the maze.”

Harvey gave you a sheepish smile as you gave him an exasperated look. “Come on, then, you big baby,” you said, though he managed to catch the smile that took over your scowl. “Let’s get you home.”

The walk back was somehow worse than he remembered. Harvey swore the route changed every turn, but you seemed to walk confidently through each pathway. He had always admired how level-headed you were in such tense environments, unable to fathom how you were able to tackle such places like the mines or the woods at night. Then again, you’d always been the braver one.

“You know where we’re going, right?” he questioned, just to make sure.

“Oh, I have no idea,” you replied, a bit too relaxed for his liking. “We’ll figure it out.”

“What?!”

Snap!

Harvey let out a shout and jumped. Despite his antics, his arm still shot out in front of you protectively, and you immediately began looking around to find the source of the sound.

Suddenly, the path wasn’t dark anymore.

A glowing, blue light filled Harvey’s eyes, and it took a moment for him to adjust to the brightness before he saw what was in front of him.

There it was. The blue spirit he’d seen under your steps the day you moved in.

“Blue? What are you doing here?” you asked it casually, pushing his arm down and kneeling to greet the small figure. “You nearly gave him a heart attack, you know.” You nodded your head towards him, and the Junimo directed a small squeak upwards in apology.

“You . . . you’re friends with a Junimo?” he clarified incredulously. He dropped down beside you and stuck his hand out, eyes widening as it touched his finger.

You smiled. “Harvey, this is Blueberry. Blueberry, Harvey.”

“You’re friends with a Junimo,” Harvey softly repeated, looking at you in awe. “You never cease to amaze me, truly.”

You didn’t respond, instead keeping your eyes on the spirit. “Care to show us the way out?” After letting out a responsive squeak, Blueberry turned around and began to light the way.

As the two of you followed your tiny friend, Harvey couldn’t help but keep track of each time his hand brushed against yours and the way your eyes kept darting over to his. The entire situation was tempting him; you, in the dark, alone with him. A scenario filled his head before he could even register what he was thinking — images of you, your back up against the hedges as he pressed his lips into your neck, his arms wrapped around you as you cried out his name, over and over as he took off your top—

“Hey, is that it?”

Harvey’s thoughts were cut short by your voice, looking down to realize Blueberry was no longer there. Looking into the distance, though, he could see the light of the entrance, the sound of people talking and kids laughing flooding his ears. He let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding, gladly matching your quick pace out of the cursed place.

“Finally,” he breathed. Harvey had never been more glad to see Pelican Town’s bustling plaza. “I thought we’d never make it out.” An exaggeration, sure, but it was the only way he could express his feelings.

You scoffed lightly, patting his back. “Please, stop being so dramatic. You owe me, by the way. I totally would have gotten the treasure by now if it weren’t for you.”

He paused. His fantasy still lingered on his mind, and for once, just once, Harvey decided to be a little impulsive.

“How about a glass of wine, then?” he offered, trying his best to look at you as naturally as possible. “I ordered a new one from a winery and it just came in, unopened. I think you’ll like it.”

You hummed in thought, then nodded. “I think that’ll do,” you replied nonchalantly. Was that a hint of pink in your cheeks? “Just a glass, though?”

He chuckled, then began to walk towards the clinic. It’s just a drink, that’s all. Nothing more. We’ve drank together before. This is normal.

“However many you’d like, Y/N.”

Maybe his answer should have been different, more precise.

Maybe, if he’d forced himself to have more self-control, he would have walked you home after the two of you finished the entire bottle.

Maybe then, he wouldn’t be spilling the rest of your drink onto your shirt as he kissed you, absentmindedly grabbing the glass and setting it on the coffee table as he pressed you into the couch, lost in the flavor of the wine mixed onto your lips.

“Harvey,” you gasped out, your hand grasping his hair as he lived his fantasy and moved down to your neck, sucking on a spot that made you moan as he hummed into your skin. “God, fuck, Harvey, please.”

The buzz of the alcohol gave Harvey the courage he needed to slip his hands under your shirt, working his way up your sides before grazing over your breasts through your bra. He made quick riddance of your top, throwing it somewhere he couldn’t care for as he finally lifted his head to take in the sight he’d been longing to see.

You were more gorgeous than he’d imagined, especially with your stained red lips and flushed face.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said out loud, voice slightly out of breath and rough.

“So are you,” you replied, sitting up and pressing a quick kiss to his lips as you stood, “and we are not doing this on the couch.” He couldn’t have agreed more.

Seeing you lay on his bed was something Harvey never thought he would actually get to witness, making him all the more committed to making you feel pleasure you’d never experienced before as he unclasped your bra. He managed to stir a couple more beautiful sounds out of you as he dragged his thumb over your nipple, pinching it lightly between his fingers. Then, you gently pushed his chest away and began unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it off the bed.

This is happening. This is actually happening.

Suddenly impatient, Harvey licked into your lips again as he pushed down your pants and kicked them away. He slipped his fingers over your underwear and groaned at the wetness he was already met with.

“I think these can go, too,” you suggested, tugging at his belt loops.

He laughed, a giddy feeling he hadn’t felt before filling his chest. “Yes, ma’am.” Just like that, he found himself naked in front of you, his hard member hitting his stomach as he knelt at the foot of the bed and dragged you forward. A smile lingered on his face at the sound of your laugh, though it quickly melted into a whine as he spread your legs and licked up your thigh. He knew it was mean; he could see how needy you were, how much you wanted more, but he desperately wanted to bring you as close to the edge as he could before he fully indulged you.

Harvey continued his movements, slowly moving further up before he finally reached the place you’d been begging him to touch, closing his lips around your clit. Your legs, thrown around his shoulders, tightened around him at the feeling of his unrelenting mouth. His arms locked around your knees to keep you in place as he stuck his tongue into you, using your loud cries as encouragement.

“Yes,” you moaned, hand grasping the sheets beneath you tightly. He groaned into you as he licked into your soaking entrance, bringing a hand up so he could sink a finger into you. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

“God, you taste perfect,” he gasped out, watching your reaction as he worked his hand. You squirmed at his movements, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent cry. Wordlessly, he added another finger. “You look so pretty for me, honey.”

Your eyes opened at that, meeting his gaze with a look he was sure would be engraved into his head for the rest of his life. “Say it again.”

“You,” he bent down again, his lips grazing over your pulsing heat, “are beautiful.” His mouth joined his fingers, persistent on your clit as his fingers pressed into a spot that made you cry out. Your hand reached down and dug into his hair, pushing him closer to you as you came.

After a few moments, Harvey slipped his fingers out of you and wiped your slick off his chin with the back of his hand, getting back up on the bed to meet your lips. His cock was practically begging for release, sensitive to the touch as it grazed against your lower half. He moaned into you, breaking away only to rummage into the nightstand drawer beside his bed for a condom.

“I need you,” you panted, and it only encouraged him further to quickly rip the packaging and pull the condom on. “C’mon, hurry.” Your legs found themselves around his torso as he let out a breath of laughter.

“You never were the most patient, were you?”

Before you could retort, he pressed the head of his cock into you, both of you gasping at the motion. God, you were tighter than he’d ever imagined, and so warm. He swore you were made for him and him only, watching as you seemed to suck him in. Harvey’s eyes closed when he bottomed out, opening to see you teary-eyed and biting your bottom lip. His heart skipped a beat — had he been too rough?

He stopped. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice threaded with worry and guilt. He pulled out slowly, biting back a moan at how good it felt to move. “We can stop, I’m sorry—”

Your legs drew him back in with a force that made him lurch forward and grab the headboard for balance, and upon looking down at your face, Harvey realized he had never quite seen you that angry before. He swallowed nervously.

“Harvey,” you gritted out, “I swear, if you stop again, you won’t be seeing the light of day tomorrow.”

Part of him wanted to test your threat, but he decided to save it for another time, focusing instead on how inviting it was to sink back into you. His brow was knitted in pleasure as he started to move, his hips moving at a steady rate as they met yours. You moaned at the feeling as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he groaned, picking up his pace. “Can you hear yourself? Hear how good you are for me?” You nodded, attempting to hide your eyes behind your arm as the sound of him pounding into you filled the air. He quickly moved it and met your eyes which were hazy with pleasure.

“Harder,” you breathed out.

When had Harvey ever said no to you?

He lifted your knees and pressed them to your chest as he found a new rhythm, caging your body in between his arms as his thrusts became deeper. Then, he moved an arm down to massage your clit with his thumb, managing a half-smile at the loud reaction it elicited from you.

“Fuck, there!” you cried, your hands flying to his back and no doubt leaving marks — not that he was complaining. “Right there!”

“There you go, honey, come on—”

“Harvey—!”

You let out a wordless cry as you tightened around him, and Harvey was sure he had never felt so good in his entire life. He could feel your release wet the inside of your thighs. His thrusts became long and deep as he finished shortly after, a low moan escaping his lips as he came. He stilled inside of you as you both panted, sweat dripping down his face.

Harvey winced as he pulled out, mindlessly tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash beside his bed. He managed to find his pants in the darkness of the room and put them on before walking over to the kitchen for water.

“Are you alright?” he asked, handing you the cup.

“Never been better,” you mumbled tiredly, gladly taking a few sips before setting it aside.

“You sure? Do you need anything?”

“Stop worrying, Harvs, just go to bed.”

He smiled, grabbing the sheets from the bottom of the bed and dragging them over you. “I’m guessing you won’t be making it back to the farm tonight, then?” Harvey questioned, though he didn’t get a response. Your eyes were already shut. He wasn’t surprised — the mixture of wine and sex was getting to him, too, a wave of exhaustion beginning to hit him.

As soon as his head hit his pillow, though, realization set in, and thus began his sleepless night.

There he was; half-naked with you beside him in bed, and no clue how to approach you in the morning.

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pedripics · 5 months ago

Text

Pedri via Residency - August 21, 2024

He is tired of today's training, which was intense

Idol? - “Iniesta, that hasn’t changed”

When will they be back at the Camp Nou? - “Well, I don't know for sure. At the end of the year or beginning of 2025”

How are you these days? - “All ok”

We are working very hard. The goal at Barça is always to win everything”

How was your first game back? - “I felt and we won in a very complicated field, Mestalla. So everything is ok”

What did you do today? - “Mainly, training. This afternoon I had treatment”

What trophy do you want to win this season? - “La Liga and Champions League, of course”

Favourite Colour? - “Blue”

Favourite Friend? - “My friends since childhood are called Dani, Fran and Ruben”

Do you see the TikTok edits about you? - “Some come up to me, of course! Many times I laugh”

Favourite NBA player? - “Curry”

Summer or winter? - “Well winter isn’t bad with a blanket at home”

How did you think of the name Nilo? - “I liked the name. My mother wanted Thor”

Gavi has not met Nilo yet

He’s looking forward to playing against Las Palmas since he didn’t get to last season

Nilo is a Culer like his entire family

Nilo still has to be at home. Being a very young puppy, he spends the day sleeping

Nilo should be Barça’s captain (i agree)

Who is better at table football? - “Me… I can't tell you anything else”

What promises would you make if you win the Champions League? - “Ugh… I already cut my hair and a moustache for winning the Euro. Some Suggestions?”

He doesn’t drink coffee

What do expect from Saturdays game? - “To win”

Do you often read rumours about yourself? - “As little as possible, although sometimes they come up on TikTok, for example”

Are you excited to play against Messi? - “It should be very nice, yes. And if we win, even more”

Marvel or Taylor Swift? - “The answer is Taylor Swift; I've seen some but I'm not a super fan of those movies”

Who will win the Champions League? - “Barça. I can't think of any other”

Do you ever play tennis? - “It's summer, sometime with my brother and friends”

“I'm very happy. This season I'm going to try to improve my English, as I told you.”

Do you have Arab origins? - “as far as I know only Canarian” (finally a question everyone wanted to know)

Milo’s breed? - “According to the veterinarian, it is a Labrador but a little smaller. I suppose it’s a mix”

Do you like Casado’s playing style? - “He did very well in Mestalla. The boys of the quarry have a lot of quality and desire, not only Marc”

Who is the player you wish you could had played more time? - “That’s easy, with Leo”

You talk with hansi in English? - “I understand him and some things I do tell him, but I mainly speak in Spanish”

Myke Towers or Quevedo? - “Quevedo is my favorite, also because it is from my land, although Mike Towers has crazyyy songs”

Do you get along with XBuyers? - “Yess!! Great people”

Opinion on Musiala? - “I think he’s a top player”

Olympic Sport you followed? - “A little bit pf everything, but Basket 3x3 seemed very good to me”

Do you like futsal? - “Siiii”

Do you play fantasy? - “Siii”

Do you still play FIFA? - “Siii”

Are you an angry or calm person? - “Normally calm”

Do you have more of your mom’s or dad’s personality? - “Maybe my mother… But that's a question for others”

Do u think u will receive a red card one day? - “I'm not very fond of seeing cards, but it's difficult not to see one in one’s entire career”

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #fc barcelona #*residency

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criminalmindswhore · 1 year ago

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Starry Night

You finally pop the question.

The whole team was at David's for a dinner party in the most casual sense. You were all joined around a fire cracking jokes and telling stories about JJ's kids, Penelope's cats, and Hotch's brother.

Emily watched as you wandered away from the group, your curiosity piqued by something in the distance. A fond smile graced Emily's lips as she recognized your endless thirst for exploration and discovery. She excused herself from the conversation, gracefully making her way through the crowd, following your trail.

Outside, the night air was crisp, carrying a hint of the approaching fall. Emily's gaze fell upon you, who stood near the edge of David's property, your eyes fixed on the starlit sky. The moon casts gentle rays of light, illuminating your face and adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the moment.

Emily approached softly, not wanting to break your reverie. As she drew closer, her voice was hushed, filled with both intrigue and adoration. "What has caught your attention, love?" Emily asked her words a mere whisper. You turned towards Emily with a warm smile, her brown eyes shining with wonder. "Look, Emily," you said, gently pointing upwards. "The stars... They're so beautiful."

Emily's heart swelled at the sight of your awe and appreciation for the simple beauty of nature. Joining you, she looked up at the night sky, taking in the vast expanse of twinkling lights above them. "Yes, they are," Emily replied softly. "It's amazing how something so infinitely distant can touch our hearts and fill us with wonder." You leaned into Emily's side, their shoulders brushing as they stood together under the starry sky. Your connection, both physical and emotional, offered comfort and strength in the stillness of that moment.

Emily's voice turned softer, a warmth emanating from her words. "You know, Y/n, one of the things I love most about you is your ability to find beauty and fascination in the simplest of things," she confessed. "It's like you bring a sense of magic to every moment we share."

Your gaze captured Emily's, a tender smile gracing your lips. "And you, Emily, have a way of grounding me, of anchoring me to the present," you replied, your voice filled with love and admiration. "It's like you see right through me, and I feel so fortunate to have you by my side."

Time seemed to stand still as you and Emily immersed yourselves in the beauty of the night sky, your connection deepening with each passing moment. It was in these shared experiences, these stolen moments of tranquility and affection, that your love flourished.

As you eventually made your way back to the gathering, hand in hand, the warmth and love between you two continued to radiate, unseen but felt by those who knew you two best.

You felt like this was the right moment, the right night to pop the question. You fiddled with the ring box in your pocket and looked to David who nodded. Almost like he knew what you were planning. You slipped it from your pocket, stood and cleared your throat catching the attention of everyone including Emily. You spoke, "Emily, the day I met you I became the person I wanted to be. You have done nothing to help me grow over the past 4 years. I want every single moment with you, the good and bad. I want to grow old with you and drink coffee on the porch. I want to point out the stars to you every night for the rest of our lives. Emily Elizabeth Prentiss," You got on one knee, "Will you do the highest honor and be my wife?" Your heart felt like it was going to stop, you knew she would say yes but this was still horrifying.

Emily's heart skipped a beat as your words echoed through the quiet night, filling the air with a mixture of anticipation and love. Time seemed to stand still as all eyes turned to her, their gazes filled with anticipation and warmth.

The gravity of your heartfelt words struck Emily deeply, her brown eyes glistening with emotion. It was in that moment, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you two, that she realized this was the culmination of your journey, the pinnacle of your love.

As you knelt before her, presenting the ring box, Emily's breath caught in her throat. The weight of the question hung in the air, and she could feel her heart racing with both excitement and a touch of vulnerability. A surge of pure, unadulterated love washed over Emily, drowning any doubts or fears that may have lingered in her mind. She gazed deeply into Rylee's eyes, her voice filled with a blend of certainty and emotion.

"Yes, Y/n," Emily replied, her voice steady but filled with the depth of her feelings. "A thousand times yes. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, to cherish every moment, and to be your wife." The relief and joy that filled your eyes was a sight to behold. A collective gasp of happiness and congratulations rippled through the gathered group, their love and support palpable in the air.

You slipped the ring onto Emily's finger, a symbol of your love and commitment to her. It sparkled in the soft glow of the fire, reflecting the love that radiated between you two.

With tears of joy glistening in her eyes, Emily reached out to cup your face, her voice filled with profound love and gratitude. "Thank you, Y/n/n," she whispered. "Thank you for choosing me, for loving me so deeply, and for giving us this incredible future together. I would be honored to be your wife.” As cheers and applause erupted around them, Emily pulled you into a tender embrace, sealing your love in a moment of sheer bliss.

"Emily I love you." You whispered before pressing a passionate kiss to Emily's lips which earned hoots and hollers from the group. Your hands grabbing her waist to pull Emily impossibly closer to you. Emily's heart soared at your whispered confession, your words wrapping around her like a warm embrace.The fervent kiss, igniting a passionate fire that seemed to consume you both. Caught up in the intensity of the moment, Emily felt an electric jolt surge through her body. The cheers and hoots from your friends only served to heighten the rush of emotions coursing through her veins. “It’s about damn time.” Derek said before chuckling. Penelope was a mess, tears running down her face as she recorded the whole thing.

For a blissful moment, the world around you faded into the background as your lips moved in sync, your love and desire pouring into the passionate kiss. As the kiss lingered, Emily's fingers found their way to the back of your neck, lightly treading through your hair, deepening the connection. In that tender touch, you conveyed your love and passion, cherishing every moment of the intimate exchange.

When you finally drew apart, your breaths mingling, Emily's voice was laced with love and desire. "I love you too, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. "With everything that I am." The words carried the weight of a thousand promises, an unwavering commitment that forever bound their hearts.

The cheers and hollers from your friends continued, blending with the crackling of the fire and the distant melody of the night. In that moment, surrounded by love, you and Emily knew that your shared affection and desire for each other would only grow.

In the midst of laughter and kisses stolen in passing glances, you and Emily embraced the love that surrounded you two. Your phone pinged and you glanced at it seeing a video attachment from ‘Penny Girl <3’. You smiled and glanced at her, mouthing a thank you. She nodded in your direction, in all honesty getting to witness that moment was enough thanks for her. Your heart felt as if it could burst from excitement, love, and happiness, and it all happened under a starry night.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fluff

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son-of-a-top-gun · 1 year ago

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Sky's The Limit Part 3

we're back baby and things are getting spicy (ish)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of strippers/lapdancing, two horny people who desperately need to get off, shameless flirting, Bradley being a babe as usual, continuation of the bob fucks agenda

Sky's The Limit Part 3

Bradley could tell you were starting to get a little down. As one of the only people who actually knew about the book, he was also one of the only people you can tell about how it was really going. You had been giving hints that it was not going well, but after he catches you lying face down in one of the Hard Deck boothes, he decides that’s enough. It was time for you to have a bit of fun, even just for one night.

“Bradley, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“I know.” He keeps staring ahead, hands still on the wheel. He had offered to give you a lift to his house, where you were supposed to be having a few ‘casual drinks’. You took one look of the bag of balloons and had known exactly what that meant.

“You don’t have to throw me a stupid party.”

“But this isn’t just any party, baby girl. This is a Bradshaw party, which only get offered to the creme de la creme. Besides, you haven’t even been given a proper welcome to San Diego. There’s no way you can stay here one more day without an official welcome.”

You smile at him. Bradley truly was one of the best friends a girl could wish for. Losing his parents only meant he loved people harder and you loved that about him. You couldn’t have imagined anyone more perfect for your sister, you just wanted them to hurry up and realise they were in love with each other so he could legally become part of the family.

“Ugh fine, But you best make -

“Those biscuits you like. Honestly what do you take me for Ladybug? I’ve already got the ingredients in the back.”

You turn around. Of course he did.

******

Of course the party is perfect. Bradley had cued all your favourite songs, supplied all your favourite snacks (as well as some supposed San Diego delicacies) and invited all your new pilot friends, who you had really become quite fond of. They’d all been extra nice to you lately, which made you wonder what sort of desperate vibes you were giving off. Even Jake had been less annoying the last week, perhaps sensing your stress, making less sassy comments, leaving you well alone when you were trying to write and even occasionally letting you rant about the inaccessibility of online archives. The most surprising thing was that your favourite coffee had been turning up at the Hard Deck every morning before you arrived with a little ladybug drawn on it, along with anonymous notes that had literary motivational quotes on it. You had initially attributed it to Bradley, but he denied it and no one else at the party would fess up either.

The party is in full swing, and you are a couple of drinks in, starting to feel relaxed for the first time in weeks. You were listening to Phoenix tell everyone about her new girlfriend, which was nauseatingly adorable. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like that about someone. The last guy you went on a date with tried to give you his manuscript to read over the minute you said you were a writer, and after that you swore off casual dating. Which was lucky, because it seemed all the men here were Navy men, which you had sworn off a long time ago.

Without thinking, you find yourself scanning the room.

Everyone is here, except one particular blonde pilot. You don’t know why you are looking for him. It was just wherever the pilots were, so was he. You had to admit, It was sort of odd for him not to be there. You find yourself wondering if he finally got that hot date he seemed to be begging for. From what the other pilots told you, Jake had always been a massive flirt and had been known to get around most of the women of San Diego. You hated that you were thinking about this so much and took another hefty swig of your drink.

“Hope you didn’t miss me, darlin’.” A familiar voice leans into your ear.

You almost leap out of your skin. “Jesus Christ, Bagman you can’t sneak up on people like that! You nearly scared the pants off me.” He looks down on you with that annoying smile of his and you suddenly feel very cold in your little strappy vest top.

He leans down. “Trust me, don’t need to scare you to get you out of your pants sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at him and are about to come back with a witty retort when you see out of the corner of your eye Bradley brandishing an empty bottle. He claps his hands and everyone turns around.

“I think it’s time for a game guys.”

“Really Bradley?” You raise an eyebrow. “Spin the bottle?”

“What, are you scared?” Jake immediately chimes in. You shoot him daggers.

“Only of having to touch you.” You smile sweetly at him as he mimes an arrow going through his chest.

“Can it lovebirds!” Bradley announces, rubbing his hands with glee, “We’re not so basic to play Spin the bottle.” Bradley looks at you and grins. You know this means trouble. “It’s time to play Truth or Dare!”

There is a chorus of cheers across the room.

“Bradley, you are in your thirties.” You tut under your breath, but he ignores it.

He spins the bottle first. It lands on Fanboy first, who chooses truth.

“Which superhero would you bang?” Bradley asks

“It’s got to be Catwoman right?” Jake is indignant.

Fanboy takes a moment to really think it through, “I dunno, I like to think about what Wonder Woman could do. The lasso could come in handy. What about you guys?”

“I like Batgirl.” Bob offers.

Coyote suggests “Mystique, you know, for roleplaying. It’s basically like having infinite wishes. Also love me a bad girl.” Payback sagely nods.

“How much have you guys all been thinking about this?” You turn to Natasha, who shrugs.

“Jean Grey does it for me.” This made sense, having seen the pictures of her new ginger girlfriend.

They spin the bottle again, this time landing on Bob. He says Truth and you can see Jake already brewing the question, so you jump in.

“How many hookups have you had in the last year?”

“That’s not fair, I was going to ask!”

“Quit your whining.” You turn to Bob, whose cheeks have tinged pink. “Go on.”

“Oh, er, I don’t know, maybe” He starts counting in his head. “Twenty, twenty-five” He looks up. “Are we counting repeat incidents?”

“As in you had sex with them more than once?”

“Uh, yes, I guess.”

“Sure.”

“Because that would bring it up to sixty, seventy- “ You watch as everyone’s jaws go slack.

“Are you joking?” Jake is stunned. Bradley turns his head. “How?”

“I don’t know, I just like helping people, and I tend to run into women who need help with their coffee, or taking things to their car, or need something tall fixing around the house…” As Bob rambles, it’s cute to see how unaware he is. You lock eyes with Jake, raising your eyebrows to say I told you. Bob fucks.

Third time around, the bottle lands on you.

“Truth.”

“Oh come on, not everyone can say truth or we are all going to die of boredom.” Jake folds his arms.

“Firstly, I don’t think Bob’s truth was boring at all. In fact I found it very interesting.” You say, throwing a wink to Bob. “But fine, have it your way. Dare.”

This time, Reuben, who has been very quiet, pops up.

“You have to give Jake a lapdance.”

“What the hell Javy? I thought we were friends.” He shrugs.

“Just for one minute.

“No way.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Jake sits back.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean Bagman?” There is a chorus of oos from around the room.

“Nothing, it means nothing!”

“I get it that I’m not your usual type Seresin, but you think you wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“No, just… I mean you seem like the sort who would hate strip clubs.”

You go to speak but bite your tongue.

What Jake didn’t know was that for your last book you had a whole plot involving strippers which meant you spent several days with dancers researching their life. One of them, Brandy, became one of your best friends in New York and had given you many a lesson in lapdancing (to make your writing accurate, of course). But you figured this was a fact best left unsaid. Besides, this was a rare chance to get Jake to eat some humble pie.

“Yeah…But a dare is a dare. Javy…put on Pony.”

You were grateful that the hot weather had meant you had put on a vest and a fairly cute pair of daisy dukes. If you had been wearing a dress there was no way this would be happening. You make a show of stretching while they set the room up, Jake sat on a chair on the middle. You wink at him as you bend over and you see him flush just a little.

Javy gives the signal for the music. You are kneeling on the floor in front of Jake,.

“Hope you’re ready to have your world rocked Bagman. Bradley, look away.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley, seeing you as his honorary younger sister, did what he was told. “You took a deep breath and then a large swig of whisky.

You sat on your knees and let your hair down, slowing rolling your neck as the music starts to play. You try to ignore the hand shaking and slowly look up towards Jake. You expected him to be smug but he’s looking at you with such a look of confusion and pity that you suddenly realise. He genuinely doesn’t think you can do it. You are suddenly filled with a devilish combination of spite and rage and power. You close your eyes, slowly rolling your body and feeling all the way up yourself, grinding up on some imaginary guy until you flash your eyes open and send him one cautionary wink before slowly licking your fingers.

You crawl towards Jake and push his knees apart, slowly rising up between them. It’s a good thing he’s wearing shorts right now, his thighs exposed, so you can feel how his skin burns under yours. The look of pity has turned into something else, both fear and astonishment and something darker, but you have no time for this. Your nails dig slightly into his flesh as you rise up slowly between his legs until you are eye to eye. You slowly wrap your legs to the outside of his thighs and slowly start grinding down on his crotch until.

Oh.

At least Jake’s arrogance was starting to make sense if all of what you were feeling was true. With this realisation you look up and lock eyes. Jake’s look burns through you like he could devour you whole and you feel him grip onto your thigh, just a little squeeze, and then you suddenly have a terrible physical urge between your legs, when the music suddenly stops.

“That’s one minute!” Reuben calls out. For a moment, neither of the two of you move.

“Guys? You can get off each other you know?” Phoenix interjects. You both leap away from each other. “Although I should say that was phenomenal.” You croak out a thanks before heading to the kitchen.

What the hell was that? You wonder as you pour yourself a glass of water. I guess it really had been a while. Your heart is racing and you steady yourself against the counter, closing your eyes.

“What the hell are they teaching you on that pHD of yours?” Your eyes open to see Jake standing in the door with his arm leaning against the frame. He must know how his arm looks when he does that. You hate how much you like it.

You take a moment and reassume your confidence, laughing a little. “Oh that? Just a little something I picked up back in New York.”

He walks towards you until he’s right next to you on the counter before leaning in. You can feel his hot breath in your ear. “I knew there was something fishy about this pHD stuff. And now I know.” Your breath hitches. Surely there was no way he could have figured it out, could he? Your lapdance scene wasn’t that similar in the book. He looks away from you. “I thought you reminded me of someone and now I know it’s JLo in Hustlers.” He looks over you with a slightly more sincere look. “So are you..you know?” He waves his hand. You can’t believe that out of all the things, the subject of strippers would make Jake Seresin awkward.

“And what if I was?”

But much to your surprise, Jake shrugs. “Everyone has to pay their bills somehow.” He turns back towards you. “It’s just if you’re not, I think you should seriously consider it. I think you would earn a lot of money.”

“Would you come to my club then?” The alcohol is making you overconfident, so you gently stroke your index finger down his chest.

“Baby.” He now leans his arm on the kitchen cabinet behind you. His face is so close, just above you. You could smell his cologne again and you find yourself wishing you could lick it off his neck. “I would be there every damn day.” You felt a flutter in your stomach. This was dangerous territory, but it was too late. What would it be like to kiss Jake Seresin, you wondered, leaning forward just a little -

“There you are Ladybug!” Bradley’s voice booms and the two of you pull apart once again. “Hangman, I hope you’re not trying to get seconds.”

The two of you return to the party. You don’t see Hangman for the rest of the party except once where you catch eyes across you the room. You smile at him and he smiles back, before you are pulled back into conversation. When you go to find him again, he is gone. Weird that he left without saying goodbye.

When you finally get home and get to bed, you find yourself instinctively reaching your hand between your legs when it happens. Who flashes into your head but a certain blond, handsome and potentially well-hung pilot.

You were fucked.

---

hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you want to be tagged in part four!

Tagged:

@dizzybee03 @mrsroosterbradshaw @tgmreader @dgs8891 @alldaysdreamer @eloquentdreamer @ravenwtfbro @dempy @milkbummm @memoriesat30 @yourfavouritecitizen @burningwitchprincess @il0vebeingdelulu

#jake seresin x y/n #romance #fanfic #hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun maverick #bob fucks #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd

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immortalmsmoon · 10 months ago

Text

BSD General Headcanons

ADA VERSION

I've been really into BSD as of late cus i had to rewatch it with my friend :3 GUYS I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER TO COME OUT

all requests are welcome!!! please read my rules first though, they were recently updated!

wordcount: 1198

Atsushi

Always tired, and it's pretty damn obvious. Has prominent eye bags, and he’s always huffing and sighing.

Has a nice singing voice. It's really clear and soft, and is nice to sleep to.

Hates reading, and isn’t very good at it. He only got to learn the basics at the orphanage. Reading reminds him of the orphanage anyways, so it’s not something he’s very fond of.

Likes to cook with kyoka, and they usually practise once a week. Sometimes, if they make a lot of whatever they were cooking or baking, they bring some to the agency to share.

One of those people who is loud with the people he trusts and quiet with people he doesn’t know well.

VERY VERY oblivious. To the point that most jokes go RIGHT over his head. Ranpo likes to tease him about it, and when he does, Atsushi gets confused about it.

“WDYM I'm oblivious? Wdym that was a joke? What?”

Dazai

So silly

Puts sauce packets on the toilet seats FREQUENTLY. Like once a week. The agency members have learned to start checking under the toilet seats, and even though no one falls for it anymore (except maybe atsushi) he still does it.

When he hears anyone talk about food he does one of two things: BEGS the person to give him some sort of food, and harasses/threatens them until they do, or orders food and proceeds to eat it right in front of the person, while making loud obnoxious comments on how good it is. If ANYONE asks for ANY he is rude as hell to them, and continues to silently glare at them while he eats.

Makes songs out of EVERYTHING. If someone stubs their toe, he’s singing about it. Someone dropped all their paperwork all over the lounge? He stands by and obnoxiously sings about the incident instead of helping.

Occasionally, when he sees that Kunikida is under a lot of stress or pressure, he will do his paperwork. It's still a couple days late, but he does it. And sometimes he does some cleaning around the agency.

Kunikida

Also loud and obnoxious, but in a different way.

CONSTANTLY stressing about stuff he doesn’t need to. People tell him to calm down but he never listens.

Has a #1 DAD mug that Dazai gave him when he got employee of the month.

Outside of work he enjoys drawing, but he rarely does it because of the tight schedule that is his life.

Has a soft spot for Atsushi, and has a sort of paternal relationship with him.. Sometimes if Atsushi begs, he’ll deter from his schedule and spend some time with him. Sometimes they go out for a walk, or they set up activities for the agency to go do as a group.

Ranpo

Hides in the agency bathroom like a highschooler, and plays games on his phone when he doesn’t want to do work, and doesn’t want to deal with people.

Spends a lot of time on the roof of the agency. Sometimes he brings some headphones and listens to some music, sometimes he just watches the clouds. His favourite is when the day is kind of windy, but just enough that it's a light breeze.

His favourite thing to do with the agency is board game night, and they meet up and do it about twice a month. He mainly likes it because he wins, but also just because he gets a little lonely sometimes living by himself.

When he’s tired he gets kind of delirious ....you know when you stay up so late that everythings funny? That's him, but like 4 out of 5 days a week.

Brings two bags a day to work: one filled with snacks, one filled with drinks.

Kyoka

Only really talks with Kenji and Atsushi

Admires Yosano and despises Dazai

Prepares coffee or tea for everyone in the morning, and knows exactly how everyone likes it.

Is actually TERRIBLE at cooking, so when she and Atsushi do it, he usually does most of the actual cooking. She is better at reading the recipe than him though.

A couple times throughout the year, she will try different hairstyles. She's completely against cutting it off, but not against learning some really complex braids. She's a quick learner, so it never takes her long.

On the topic of hair, Atsushi likes to mess around with hers sometimes, and usually just brushes it because he can’t actually do much else without knotting it.

She absolutely loves to go see fireworks with the Agency, because it was something she didn’t really get to do when she was younger. She sees the agency as her family, as weird as everyone is, and moments like that help her feel more connected to them

Her favourite member of the agency to spend time with one on one is Kenji, because they get along really well. He talks quite a bit, and she likes to listen, but he also knows when to be quiet. They go on walks a lot.

Kenji

Has a garden on the roof of the agency

Him and Dazai tried to convince Fukuzawa to let them get a pet for the agency. They got a cat that dazai picked up off the streets, and no less than a week later, they had to get rid of it because it was diseased.

Brings wounded birds to the agency frequently, which drives Kunikida off the walls, and he fixes them up on his desk.

His desk is slightly smaller than most of the other agency members, and it has three drawers: the first one is full of stuff for any animal he may come across. Little bandages and medical supplies for animals, treats, even little things he can use to make a bed out of. The second drawer has his paperwork in it, and his pens and what not. The third drawer is full of a whole bunch of microwaveable meals

Adding on to the drawer of microwavable meals, Kenji hates to snack, because it never fills him up. He prefers to just eat a whole meal instead of eating something small, but sometimes he will if he has to. He also prefers savoury food over sweet food, but doesn’t mind some sweet stuff sometimes.

Yosano

Gets along with basically all of the members of the agency

Dazai and her do wine tastings once a month. It usually ends with them just getting drunk

Helps Kenji with any wounded animals he brings in, and gives him tips and pointers on how to help them.

Her and Ranpo gossip A LOT, about literally anything they can get their hands on. They judge people A LOT.

“This girl asked me out yesterday. The one from the cafe. She's ugly, no offence.” “EWW YESSS”

Forces Atsushi to come shopping with her, and forces him to hold all of her bags. She usually brings Ranpo or Dazai with her as well, and asks them for their opinions on the things she buys.

Sucks at cooking, so usually buys food from a convenience store for lunches and dinners.

Also one of the few agency members who doesn’t mind working late.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs fluff #dazai #osamu dazai #dazai fluff #ranpo #ranpo edogawa #ranpo fluff #atsushi #atsushi nakajima #atsushi fluff

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pen-observing · 2 years ago

Text

warm.

synopsis: Call him selfish but he can't help wanting your gaze to be directed at him.

Dottore x reader (gn!) word count: 1k warnings: jealousy (slight), Akademiya Dottore aka. Zandik is the name he goes by, the other dude is Alhaitham's predecessor, non-established relationship.

He doesn’t like to admit it, but just like everyone else at the Akademiya, he has to follow a schedule. It is one thing to have assigned classes with professors he either admires or looks down upon while being forced to listen to them run their mouth. But, perhaps, what is even worse – is that every student has their own habits that come to constitute a schedule. He knows who is going to get their fortune read from coffee grains right at dawn (because apparently, they are more accurate); if they had true things a dedicated scholar needed, they would not rely on something so arbitrary. He knows just where his peers go to rest – and he hates that he knows your schedules aren’t aligned with his during this time.

It is one thing to be in different darshans so that he cannot gain access to you for a week, but it is a completely different thing to finish one of his secret small-scale experiments and to come back only to see your gaze resting on someone else. Someone he doesn’t even know the name of. Are they not unworthy of it? Of your warmth?

Zandik’s schedule includes others being fascinated with his mind and talent. If he finishes a lab experiment, both peers and professors stay behind to ask him questions. He isn’t blind to how his knowledge, personality and handsome looks if gossip is anything to go by – attracted awe. When he comes back to the Akademiya with visible exhaustion written all over his face; it is no surprise that his ‘fan club’ rushes to greet him in the hallways, to extend their homecooked meals or quick snacks and drinks to him. He thanks them, but he never takes theirs – he always finds a way to pester you into giving him one bite and one sip of your own lunch.

What would he say he thinks of you? He finds you interesting and intriguing. Synonyms in his mind that belong to you are: warmth, passion and empathy. Some of those he knows he is starting to lack. In the start, you would greet him just like everyone else, you would chat about unimportant things like the weather if both of you were waiting for a professor on their floor, you would congratulate him without any jealousy on his own achievements.

Something kept telling him to seek you out, during lunch or study hours in the library. He simply wanted to know more about you. And while he deems your passion a true necessity for a scholar, your mind almost as brilliant as his own – he always felt that you would be too soft for this man-hinders-man world without him.

So just who is that standing by your side right now? And why is your hand resting on his arm? Dottore knows the deepest colors of your eyes (because he was curious enough to hold your face one night under the starlight) – he has grown so fond of your eyelashes (because they give away who you are gazing at fondly, because you always make a wish with them) – so why is everything he considers charming looking at someone else?

“Zandik!”, says the female researcher he knows is plagiarising her thesis, “Please take some of my homemade cookies.”

He stands still in the circle of his admirers, but he barely hears her or anyone else because your hand just brushed the shoulder of that man. Call him egotistical or attention seeking, but whoever that person is – they are unworthy. He moves away the girl’s hand, says a quick excuse me that he does not mean, and starts walking in your direction.

The man has a dumbstruck look on his face as you talk. Zandik thinks you carry your emotions on your face so loudly that he could grow to advise you against it. You give it away – you are impressed with that unknown man.

Every step he takes towards you gives him a new idea on how to approach this situation. Rudely interrupt, barge in with his own topic; grab your hand and drag you away while talking about the rain; simply stand there and glare at the man. All of those options fill him with different kinds of joy but then he settles on the next one that comes to mind.

Instead of any of that, Zandik walks up and hugs you from behind. Nothing odd surely? You two would exchange quick hugs as greetings and as a goodbye at the end of the day. But what is new is this situation, this proximity to it, he can’t help but rest his head against your shoulder before he says good morning, in that deep honeyed voice. In the background he can hear the sound of something hitting the ground. Must be the cookies he refused earlier.

“W-What? Ugh Zandik! What is wrong with you? Where did you come from?!”

Good, now your attention is on him. He still doesn’t let you go, instead he raises his eyebrows up at the man completely frozen and suddenly lost in such a way that it almost looks like he is rolling his eyes. He wins this round.

“What is wrong with me, huh? I was just cold and you are very warm-blooded.” “I don’t remember being a stove. Move.”

Ah, there it is, your personality he finds more charming than anything. Could you be telling him to move because of this man? He rolls his eyes again and detaches himself from you, losing your warmth.

“I-I will see you around!” Good, the man is already leaving the hallway and not even looking at you anymore. Dottore finds himself pleased as he leans against the wall.

“Who was that boring guy you were talking to just now?” “Alhayith? He is my project partner.”

He should really adjust his schedule to keep a better track of yours. Perhaps he should become a double major?

“I see.” He doesn’t want to keep talking about him. “Do you have food?” “I do. I am not letting you have a single bite this time.”

You’re already walking away and he follow you.

“What if I tell you I haven’t had any food in exactly 15 hours and 38 minutes?” “Fine.” You say it with a sigh. “You get 3 bites and 2 sips.”

a/n: If you give him more than 3 bites you are a simp and he doesn't deserve them!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #genshin dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #genshin imagines #not rook's bow #not om

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ravencincaide · 1 year ago

Text

Special interests

Summary: You were an encyclopedia of relevant knowledge and an even larger encyclopedia of irrelevant knowledge. The trick was to get you to talk; what you’d say however was a gamble. OR the time Chuuya had to ask an expert's opinion not expecting said expert to be.. well ..you.

Pairing Academic! fem Reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by request by anon: Quiet reader who becomes outgoing in a conversation when talking about that special interest.

Warnings: Hint at a neuro divergent reader, cursing, academia, AU-kinda? kinda sweet,

Enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________

Women within the military were rare; women within military academia were rarer. Women who were top-notch world renown within both were an anomaly. Didn’t exist but for a handful of exceptions that could be counted on one hand. They lived in a different world- reside within the safe space of books, samples and knowledge without needing to dirty their hands with actual field work or real life situations.

Chuuya Nakahara was not particularly fond of academics. Their snobby behaviour, the way they looked down at everyone as if they were beneath them was annoying. Especially when they directly assumed that someone was dumb or in the very least dumber just because of some paper- or three, that they crammed out in the middle of the night after guidance from equally snobby so-called academic supervisors. That they’d find some insignificant theory, approach or pattern useful within one specific context and then ride that honor until the end of days. Milking money out of students or charging overpriced consulting fees.

More than anything, Chuuya disliked how comfortable academics could live, while they made demands and analysis about the world he lived in; made claims about the underground society without any understanding of what was going on. Especially humorous was when they advised the government on some new ‘crime mitigation policy’ with the most stupid and stuck-up formulations. All the while they effectively remained clean of bloodshed and loss.

Sometimes, Chuuya wished he could drag one of those snobs to walk a week in his shoes and then see how comfortable they would be making those insubstantial claims. To show them what true understanding meant, so they would never open their goddamn mouth again.

Coming to a stop outside the large auditorium, Chuuya went in before leaning his back near the furthest wall. The room was surprisingly full of people; students, other academics and researchers filled up the many seats as they listened to the young, rather plain looking woman on the stage. He had come to the very end of your seminar, right at the moment where the organizer thanked you profusely for your time while at the same time trying to silence the numerous hands full of questions by repeatedly reminding people it was break time and they would resume after lunch.

Chuuya waited until you were completely alone before he began approaching. He noticed you breathe a sigh of relief at the sudden absence of people, looking a lot more relaxed now. So much so you didn’t seem to notice his presence. For Chuuya however, making the first move suited him and his personality perfectly.

“ Coffee?” the ginger asked in the most pleasant voice he could master as he came closer and closer to you while raising the takeaway cup from the local off campus cafe as an offer. You looked startled by his voice then tilted your head ever so slightly to the side.

“ Do you know that drinking coffee can increase life expectancy?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow at your words which you took as a sign to elaborate '' Well some studies show that drinking coffee decreases depression and risk of developing Alzeihmers both of which have a detrimental effect on Disability Adjusted Life Years. Though it could also kill you if you overdose on it”

Chuuya’s eyes lit up slightly at your last statement. “ Overdose?”

“ That’s right, you would need to drink over thirty cups within a very short period of time to experience symptoms. Though actual harmful dose would need to be calculated based on the person's physiological conditions. And even then the body would try to get rid of it by vomiting. Other symptoms of caffeine overdose includes chest pain, trouble breathing–”

“ OKAY okay” Chuuya yelled, raising his hands in an attempt to get you to stop talking. “ I get it, no coffee”

“ Well coffee is okay as long as you are aware of your body's limitations” you stated as your eyes flickered down to his outstretched hand with the still steaming cup. You felt a certain pressure to take the cup from him but also a deep uncertainty. What if the cup wasn’t meant for you? Wouldn’t you then just embarrass yourself by attempting to take something that wasn’t yours?

It would be rather embarrassing if you, a famous professor, applied a self-centered approach and just took things from people just because you couldn’t resist the temptation.

And also very unlike you.

Tearing your eyes reluctantly from the cup you studied the features of the ginger who so confidently approached you. His eyes told you he was no student or scholar. His clothes reinforced that observation.

You picked up your speaker notes and notebooks- material you didn’t need but which brought you the slightest bit of comfort. Then you broke the brief yet heavy silence; “ Was there something you wanted to talk about, or were you interested in my lecture on Mycotoxins presence within the underground railing of the Tokyo Subway systems, mister–?”

“ Nakahara Chuuya” he stated setting down the cups on the edge of the speaker stand before stretching his hand out towards you with clear intentions of a handshake. You stared down at his hand, then swallowed thickly before gripping your notes slightly tighter, not extending your hand to his. The lightest of blushes dusted your cheeks- a physical reaction to your nerves and discomfort.

“ oh and I’m doctor Y/S Y/N; Did you know that handshaking has a long historical tradition. Back in middle ages most people of importance were right handed and shaking hands was considered a peace offering and–”

“ Very interesting facts Doctor.” Chuuya cut you off and did his best not to roll his eyes. He had to appear polite and in the very least interested in the random facts that had absolutely nothing to do with his current predicament which placed him inside this stuffy institute “ I need an undetectable poison”

“ That’s an impossibility” you proclaimed looking at him as if he were a sheltered five year old calling a rock for a butterfly. “ An undetected poison would not be a poison we would know about since we would not be able to detect it, and I can’t make assumptions about poisons we have yet to discover” you huffed in annoyance.

Chuuya narrowed his eyes at you “ Oj stop acting stupid and being so fucking difficult and just tell me what I need to know!” he yelled the last part making your eyes widen.

You took a step back from him, your voice shaking ever so slightly as you continued; “ I -I’m not acting stupid. I’m merely pointing out the absurdity of your request!” you replied back with a hint of confusion on your face, clearly not understanding how your reply managed to get him upset.

Chuuya growled, his eyes flashing red. “ Just tell me what substance wouldn’t show up on a dead body's tox screen!” he hissed through squeezed teeth.

“ Oh but then it’s not an undetectable poison but rather a poison that would clear the system before the victim is discovered and tested– or one where the chemical make up would resemble the chemicals naturally produced in the body. You should have said that directly. I have a list that might interest you back in my office!” you exclaimed and gathered the last of your materials in a neat little pile before beginning to head out of the auditorium clearly expecting him to follow.

“ That’s what I said.” Chuuya grumbled, his eyes returning back to blue as he fell into step beside you, keeping an even pace with you.

“ No what you said was–”

Chuuya sighed heavily as he listened to your ramble; an almost perfect recollection of your short conversation with each other. Making sure to state exactly the areas where he could have been more clear in his communication with you; completely missing that the things he said would be interpreted differently by normal people. Those people would understand the context- understand what he was after by just his name. But not you. Not unless he spelled it out for you.

Literary.

Sneaking a glance, Chuuya could feel the edges of his lips inching up into a small smile. The slight shake in your voice and the way you clutched your stuff to your chest reminded him more of a nervous and shy teenager rambling to hide her uncertainty, than a world renown academic. A breath of fresh air among the snobby squinters. And surprisingly, Chuuya actually didn’t mind this conversation all that much.

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #request #bsd request #fem reader #reader smart #chuuya fluff #academic #neurodivergent #socially awkward #socially inept #chuuya x you #chuuya x yn

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slaymitchabernathy · 8 months ago

Text

After Hours

"Miss Nightingale, where are those documents Mr. Creed brought earlier?"

Coriolanus doesn't even need to look up to know when she's reached the side of his desk. The sound of her high heels on the hardwood floors helps him gauge her distance. He merely holds out his hand for her to place to documents in his hold, "Here you are sir." His lips turn up into a small smirk before he waves her off, "That will be all."

He only looks up once she's walking away and her back is facing him. Soarynn Nightingale is quite the sight to behold, especially from behind where he can see how she's chosen to style her blonde hair for the day. He can see her long, slender legs perfectly wrapped up in whatever pencil skirt she's put on, along with the flattering blouses that suit her figure perfectly.

If only she weren't his secretary.

She's been a thorn in his side for the past year since she started working at the firm. He was in need of a secretary as he moved up to a very powerful position and his boss was quick to find one. Coriolanus needed his secretary to be quick on their feet, diligent, and attentive. He just hadn't expected her to be so...young.

Soarynn came into the office wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to please the man she would be working for. She was very attractive with her blue-gray eyes and her soft blonde hair. Coriolanus however couldn't afford to get caught up with his secretary's youthful beauty. Not when he was expected to be a leader, to be respected.

So he only addressed her when necessary and spoke to her in an authoritative tone that left no room for arguments. He was to be respected, not questioned. And Soarynn was very respectful. She was also a quick learner and despite him keeping her at arm's length, she knew exactly how he liked his coffee, where to put his briefcase, and his preferred alcoholic drink.

Just this morning he had come into the office to find her already seated behind her mahogany desk that sat right outside of his office doors. She immediately stood to her feet the moment she heard the elevator doors open and greeted him with the kind smile he had grown used to. "Good morning Mr. Snow," she had said, her voice was smooth like honey. He had nodded like he always did before shrugging off his coat and handing it to her, "Good morning Miss Nightingale."

When he entered his office his coffee was already waiting for him, along with two cinnamon cookies that he was always fond of dunking in his coffee and a small saucer with cream.

She was very good at her job.

Sometimes though, he wonders what her legs would look like wrapped around his torso as he pounds into her, listening to her soft moans and...no! He has to snap out of it and finish his work. It's an unspoken rule between the higher-ups and their secretaries that they don't leave until their bosses leave and the same goes for Coriolanus and Soarynn.

He's heard complaints in the break rooms from other secretaries about how their bosses keep them here for long hours into the night but he's never heard Soarynn complain or heard word of her complaining.

He buries himself in his work, not even noticing the time passing by until he hears a knock at the doors, too loud and imposing to belong to Soarynn which means it must belong to Festus Creed. "Burning the midnight oil I see," Festus playfully remarks before strolling further into the office, making himself right at home in one of the two armchairs that sit across from Coriolanus and his desk.

Coriolanus rolls his eyes and looks up at his friend and coworker who has his briefcase in hand and is already wearing his coat, "Not everyone can afford to slack off the way you do Festus," he replies in jest. Festus works as hard as Coriolanus, he's just a bit sloppier in the way he does it. Festus smirks, "Work hard play hard, remember?"

Coriolanus is all too familiar with that phrase that got them both through the University. Working hard meant getting to enjoy the finer things in life and the Capitol had no shortage of nice, expensive things.

"I remember," Coriolanus says, scratching off another thing from his list, "oh, I forgot to tell you about a gala that the firm is holding in a few weeks, you're allowed to bring a plus one." Festus hums and Coriolanus already knows he'll be bringing his wife Persephone Creed, formerly Persephone Price.

They got married rather young at twenty-five and twenty-four, but they make for an attractive couple, and both of them coming from old money solidified their status among the Capitol elites.

"Will you be bringing a plus one?" Festus asks and Coriolanus immediately shakes his head, "I will not."

Coriolanus is far too busy to get himself wrapped up in a pointless relationship. He'll be twenty-six in a month and he's made it this far without a woman by his side. He lets out a yawn and sits back in his chair, "Besides, none of the women my age interest me in the slightest."

Festus hums and glances the desk where Coriolanus doesn't have a single photo or personal item. His bookshelves have a few awards but that's about it. No personal touches. "That's a shame, I always pegged you for liking older women," Festus says, laughing when Coriolanus gives him an incredulous look.

"I do not have a thing for older women," Coriolanus scoffs.

Festus raises his eyebrows, "Well then what do you have a thing for?"

Coriolanus isn't able to answer as they're interrupted by a soft knock, one he associates with Soarynn and only Soarynn, "Mr. Snow?" He straightens up in his chair before calling her in, "Come in." Soarynn quietly steps in, her eyes scanning over the two men for only a moment before she lowers her gaze and approaches the desk.

Coriolanus can't help but notice Festus and his eyes roving over Soarynn's body. "Is there a reason for your interruption?" Coriolanus asks her, tilting his head. Soarynn nods and meets his eyes, "Yes sir. Mr. Harrington called about some strategy plans, he said he needs them by tomorrow morning."

Coriolanus swears under his breath. He should be working on those plans right now, but Festus Fucking Creed seems to be a nuisance whenever he wants to get work done. "Tell him I'll deliver them by tonight." Soarynn nods and is out of the office before anything else can be said, closing the doors behind her.

Festus smirks, "You could always take her to the gala. She's definitely your type." Coriolanus cards a hand through his hair, taking a secretary to any formal event would be highly frowned upon and considered unprofessional, both things he wants to stay far away from. "I don't think so," is all he says before turning back to his work.

Festus scoffs and scoots the chair closer to the desk, "Come on Coryo. She's like the perfect little plaything for you. How old is she? Sixteen?" Coriolanus shoots Festus a lethal glare, "She's nineteen thank you very much. Do you really think they'd hire someone under the legal age?" Festus doesn't look too impressed and Coriolanus knows why. It's because every other secretary in this firm is well in her forties with a husband and children. Soarynn is the outlier.

But she's a quiet girl, keeps to herself, does her work, and goes home.

"All I'm saying is I wouldn't be able to handle myself around her if she was my secretary." Well, Coriolanus isn't surprised there, not when Festus flirts with no shame or restraint. "It's a good thing she's not your secretary then," Coriolanus decides.

A good thing indeed.

꧁ ꧂

The next time Coriolanus looks up at his clock, it's eleven o'clock at night. "Fuck," he whispers. He's putting the finishing touches on the plans but he also desperately needs a coffee. "Soarynn?"

He wants to bite his tongue for calling her by her first name instead of her last but it's too late to take it back now and she's already stepping into the office, "Yes Mr. Snow?" He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, "Bring me a coffee. Black, and as strong as humanly possible." A small smile appears on her lips and she nods, "Yes sir."

She's only gone for a few minutes but the scent of vanilla lingers. It had taken Coriolanus a good twenty seconds to associate the scent of vanilla with his secretary. He still remembers the day he came into the office and was introduced to her by Felix Ravenstill, one of his superiors.

"Coriolanus, I'd like you to meet your new secretary, Soarynn Nightingale." She had looked so young when he first met her, so nervous and desperate to please those around her. He was quick to instill a set of expectations with her, maintain eye contact, no mumbling, and always knock before entering the office. As a Snow, he held himself in high regard and expected her to do the same.

"Here you go, sir." He looks up from his work, slightly startled at how quietly she snuck up on him. He looks up at her before looking at the coffee in her hands and nods, "Thank you." He can't but notice how tired she looks, how delicate her collar bones look, and how soft her skin probably feels. "Has everyone else gone home?" He asks, wondering if there are any other unfortunate souls working this late into the night.

Soarynn hums and stands back up to her full height, "Yes sir." Coriolanus doesn't know why, but he feels compelled to compensate for her late nights in the office. Working after hours isn't something anyone wants to do, especially secretaries. "You've finished up all your tasks for the day I presume?" He asks while bringing the mug up to his lips. Soarynn nods, her hands clasped behind her back, "I have sir."

Good, there's nothing like an employee who procrastinates.

"Why don't you have a seat then," he gestures to the armchairs that sit in front of his desk. He doesn't miss the way Soarynn's eyes slightly widen at his somewhat casual behavior but he ignores it and watches her take a seat across from him. He watches how she sits down so elegantly, crossing her legs, smoothing down the charcoal gray pencil skirt she wore today before straightening up.

"How have you liked working here so far?" He asks, not really caring since she already had her yearly evaluation with Felix who reported back that Soarynn had zero complaints about her current position within the firm. She gives him a polite smile, "I've enjoyed it, sir. Everyone here is very kind." Coriolanus raises his eyebrows because they both know that some of the people who work here can be complete and utter assholes.

Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, "Well, most of the secretaries have been kind. Although I suppose most of the men are very busy and have a reason to be more curt."

Coriolanus traces a finger around the mug's rim, "And how do you like working for me?"

It's a selfish and unprofessional question but he's curious to know what his secretary thinks of him. Truthfully and blatantly. Soarynn's cheeks turn pink and she looks down at her lap, "I enjoy it," she says.

Coriolanus looks her up and down, admiring what a vision she is even in clothes meant for business. "You're a very loyal worker," he tells her, "very attentive, very diligent. All things I expect from a woman." Soarynn's head shoots up, her lips pursed, "Don't you mean things you expect from your secretary, sir?" Coriolanus smiles a little at her naive way of thinking. He often has to remind himself that she's seven years younger than him and still has to learn her place in society.

He shakes his head, "I expect these qualities from all women in my life, from my wife to my daughter to my secretary." Soarynn takes in a sharp breath, "You're married then?" Her eyes widen the second she realizes her mistake, "Sir," she tacks on.

Coriolanus chuckles and sets the mug down, "No, I'm not married. Although I am in the market for a future wife, I'm more than willing to take my time finding her."

This seems to pique her interest because she slightly leans forward, "What exactly are you looking for in a wife sir?"

Coriolanus leans back in his chair and drums his fingers on the armrests, "Attractive for starters," he gives Soarynn a knowing look, "appearances matter whether people are willing to admit that or not. A wife of mine needs to possess a certain level of intelligence, she needs to be knowledgeable on all things household-related but she should also be able to hold her own in social settings. Etiquette is everything."

It's somewhat adorable how Soarynn immediately fixes her posture at the mention of proper etiquette, "And of course, my future wife will need to be attentive to all my needs," he finishes.

Soarynn blinks once, twice, "Attentive to your...needs?" She sounds so confused, puzzled really. Coriolanus smirks and nods, "Yes, my needs. A man has many needs as I'm sure you're aware of by now, such as his coffee being prepared for him every morning, being greeted before and after work." Soarynn nods along, "And there are, of course, a man's intimate needs as well," he adds.

Soarynn swallows, "Your wife would be expected to..." It seems that her innocent mind is incapable of finishing the sentence. Coriolanus knows little of her background, only that both her parents died in the war and that she was an exemplary student at the Academy but could not afford to go on to the University, which landed her this job as his secretary. Felix Ravenstill's father knew Soarynn's father, so he arranged her job as a favor of some kind.

Coriolanus knows that if he hadn't called in this favor then Soarynn would be some lowly waitress working at a club. It's a good thing she landed where she did though, a girl like her is too pretty, too proper to work a simple, demeaning job like that.

"She would be expected to fulfill my sexual urges, yes," he completes the daunting sentence for her, "but any wife of mine would be happy to since I would be more than willing to return the favor."

Her ears are red and he's willing to bet that she's more than uncomfortable with this highly unprofessional conversation they're having right now. He leans forward, his forearms resting on his desk, "Tell me Soarynn, are you willing to go above and beyond to please your boss?"

Coriolanus is walking a dangerous line and he knows it. It's a line that could easily get him fired despite his higher-ranking position within the company. But he can't help it, not when she's right here in the palm of his hand. He's been tortured by her form-fitting outfits and long blonde hair for over a year now and he's sick of it.

He can see her hands slightly shaking but he doesn't pay too much attention to that, no, he pays attention to her face, how nervous yet interested she seems. She's conflicted and rightfully so.

"I am," she finally says, and she says it so softly, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to please you sir."

Coriolanus doesn't see the point in wasting any more time on the matter if she's so willing. "Come here."

Soarynn shoots up from her chair and rounds the desk. She's a foot away from him and he can't wait to sink his teeth into her.

"Take it off," he says, almost sounding bored.

Soarynn furrows her eyebrows, "Take what off sir?"

He looks her up and down and admires her black high heels for a moment, "Take your clothes off darling, but leave your shoes on."

She blushes at the pet name but her hands are shaky as she unbuttons her long-sleeved silky blouse. Coriolanus watches her silently, barely giving a reaction when her blouse falls to the floor, revealing a black bralette.

Soarynn sucks in a shaky breath and reaches for the zipper of her skirt but it's in the back and he likes to imagine that taking it off herself is something she normally does in the privacy of her own home when she doesn't have an audience.

He beckons her forward with two fingers and spreads his legs so that she's standing in between them. He stares up at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting her blue-gray ones as his hand slips behind her and takes hold of the zipper.

Soarynn lets out a small gasp when he pulls it down in one swift motion.

She takes a step back to pull it down and kick it to the side next to her blouse and he admires the matching black lacy thong that she's worn.

It's like she's trying to seduce him.

Coriolanus finally is able to look at Soarynn and her figure and he’s more than pleased with what he sees. Despite her being significantly shorter than him, she still has long legs. Her waist is small and he notices a small birthmark right under her ribs. Her breasts are the perfect size, pushed up by her bralette with lacy black straps.

She’s a vision.

She looks nervous standing in front of him, wearing nothing but her underwear but Coriolanus always knew this is how they'd end up, her bending to his will.

"Kneel," he instructs, watching her slowly sink to her knees. He lets out a deep sigh as he looks down at her, so submissive and willing to please him even if it's at her own expense. "Are you a virgin Soarynn?" He asks, cupping her jaw in his hand. Soarynn is trembling but she nods, "Yes sir."

Perfect.

"So you've never partaken in any sexual acts with anyone?" He's curious to know how far her sexual knowledge goes. If she's the good Capitol girl he thinks she is then she won't have any experience besides a possible peck on the lips. "No sir," she whispers, "I've only kissed one boy before." Coriolanus hums and squeezes her jaw a little harder, "Then this will be a good lesson for you."

His growing bulge is becoming more and more evident and Soarynn finally lays her eyes on it and her eyes widen, "I...I've never..." Coriolanus chuckles and quiets her down, "I'll make sure that you learn everything I need you to know, starting with taking my belt off."

Soarynn brings her dainty hands to his leather belt and she slowly undoes the buckle and slips it out from his belt loops. Coriolanus lets out a soft groan when her hand brushes his bulge, "Now you ask me for permission," he continues, letting go of her jaw.

Soarynn sits back on her heels for a moment, seemingly confused, "Ask permission for what sir?" Coriolanus smirks, he didn't think she'd be so innocent, "Permission to touch me darling, to have the privilege of putting my cock in your mouth."

Soarynn rests her hands on her thighs and she lets out a shaky breath before looking him in the eye, "May I please...may I please touch you, sir?" Coriolanus can't believe he's waited this long for this moment. He makes himself comfortable in the chair, "You may."

Soarynn is quick to pop back up on her knees and reach for his zipper. He can tell she's trying to be confident, to act like she knows what she's doing even though she doesn't. He remains silent as she pulls his pants down to his thighs, revealing his cock straining in his boxers. "I've never done this before," she admits, hesitating to peel back his boxers.

Coriolanus grabs a handful of her hair, pulling on it so hard that she lets out a squeak, "It's a good thing that you have such a generous boss who's willing to teach you then hmm?" Soarynn nods but it's not like she has much of a choice in the matter.

Soarynn peels back his boxers and his cock springs out, fully erect with a bit of precum already forming on the tip. "Grab it," he tells her, "lick it from top to bottom darling." It's an erotic sight to see Soarynn Nightingale on her knees in front of him, licking him from his balls to his tip. His little secretary is slowly becoming his little slut.

Coriolanus bucks his hips when she lingers on the tip for too long and he tightens his grip on her hair, "Since you're already so confident," he snarls, "you can start taking me in, slowly, and watch your teeth." He won't hesitate to backhand her should her teeth graze him in any way. She'll need to learn sooner rather than later.

Soarynn swallows and looks up at him before slowly taking him in her mouth. Coriolanus sighs, her mouth is small but warm which makes him even more eager to split her cunt open.

She stretches her lips around his girth and slowly slides down the length until she can't take any more. She's over halfway down and Coriolanus knows he's bigger than most but he's curious to see if she has a gag reflex. He pushes her head down even further and hears the familiar sound of choking before he pulls her back up.

"So my little secretary has a gag reflex," he muses, watching her try to take in a deep breath before he pushes her back down. He sets a slow but steady pace for Soarynn, giving her critiques when she does something he doesn't like. He shudders when her tongue grazes the the prominent vein that runs along his length, "Fuck," he groans, "just like that darling."

He can feel himself growing closer and closer and he's becoming less reserved, bucking his hips up more and more, forcing her to take every inch. Soarynn has tears running down her eyes, smudging her normally perfect makeup. She looks so pretty like this.

When he finally reaches his orgasm he watches with glee as Soarynn takes everything he gives her, looking him right in the eye as her lips are still wrapped around his cock. He finally pulls her off and watches her swallow what remains in her mouth. She coughs a little bit, clearing her throat no doubt.

"Was that...did that please you sir?" She asks, her voice raspy. Coriolanus nods, "Yes, I'm very pleased with your commitment to my pleasure Soarynn. Now stand up and bend over the desk."

A wave of surprise washes over her face, clearly not expecting him to fuck her. "Sir, I...I haven't ever had se-"

"I fail to see where that is my problem Soarynn," he cuts her off, "you knew what you were getting into by doing this. Now stand and bend over the desk, I won't ask again." There are more tears in her eyes and it's not from sex, "I'm saving myself for my husband."

He almost laughs at her argument but it's a somewhat honorable thing to do, saving herself for her future husband whoever he may be. But the more Coriolanus thinks about it, the more he realizes how perfect this could be for him.

He'll keep her around for as long as possible, have his fun with her and then, he'll have her quit and move in with him. That way she can get accustomed to taking care of the penthouse the way he likes. Then, he'll propose, and possibly get her pregnant to ensure she can't go anywhere.

It's perfect.

But he won't tell her that, not yet. He needs to keep her in the palm of his hand for right now, keep up his bossy persona.

"So you can choke on another man's cock but you draw the line by being fucked by it?" He drawls, his tone domineering and demeaning. Soarynn tries to look away but he grabs her face, squeezing her cheeks, "It would be a terrible shame if your unprofessional behavior was to be leaked to our superiors. Seducing your boss is a serious offense darling. Are you sure you wouldn't rather enjoy all I can give you?"

Soarynn sniffles but Coriolanus doesn't have time for tears, "The decision is yours Soarynn, be my loyal, doting secretary, or be fired first thing in the morning." Blackmailing her probably isn't the nicest thing to do but his hand is twisted.

Soarynn looks down at the floor for a moment before slowly standing up, her knees are slightly bruised. It's a beautiful sight to watch her step towards his desk and bend over, baring her sparsely covered cunt to him. Her black lacy thong covers the bare minimum and Coriolanus is quick to stand to his feet. He lands a quick slap to her ass and Soarynn gasps, looking at him from over her shoulder.

She's bent over but not the way he wants her to be. He wants her to be flush with the mahogany desk, not leaning against it with her hands. He places his hand on the small of her back and gives her a firm shove, pressing her entire upper body against the cold wood, pinning her to the desk. "Prop this leg up for me darling," he instructs, grabbing her right leg and bringing it to the edge of the desk.

Soarynn being the good girl she is, keeps it there and lets out a whimper when his finger slips under her lace panties. Coriolanus tugs the thong to the side and groans when he sees how wet she is, how perfect her little cunt is. All for him.

He licks his thumb and brings it down to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles. Soarynn cries out and ruts her hips back, already overwhelmed by the pleasure. "You ever touch yourself Soarynn?" He doesn't really care, not when he's going to be the only one touching her from now on.

"Yes," she whispers, her face half-pressed into the hardwood furniture, "only sometimes, sir," she adds. Coriolanus chuckles and pulls his thumb away, dragging it through her wet folds. She'll be an easy fuck, easy to slip in and out of but virgins are always tight and he has a feeling that Soarynn will exceed his expectations.

"What do you think about when you touch yourself?" He asks, bringing his cock up to her entrance. Soarynn gasps when she feels the tip pressing against her folds, "I...I don't really think about anything or anyone."

There's a certain tell in her voice that lets Coriolanus know when she's lying. He's only heard it once before, when she accidentally threw out a very important sales report and said she never saw it. He wanted to bend her over his lap and spank her ass until it was covered in his hand prints but he had to settle for giving her a stern talking to and threatening to tell his boss if it ever happened again.

"Don't lie to me," he had said to his cowering secretary, "I can forgive a lot of things but don't ever lie to me."

She's lying right now. He grabs her waist with his other hand and squeezes it so hard that he knows he'll leave behind a bruise and Soarynn cries out, "You! I think of you. I think of you touching me and...and doing things to me." It sounds like a confession and he's more than happy to be on the receiving end of it.

Coriolanus slowly begins to push into her cunt, "I find it ironic that less than five minutes ago you were hesitant on letting me fuck you when in reality, you're a dirty little girl who gets off on the thought of her boss touching her. What did you imagine Soarynn? Did you picture my long fingers plunging in and out of your cunt? Or you grinding against my fine leather shoes, like a bitch in heat? Maybe you thought about being my little fuckdoll and letting my associates take a turn."

Soarynn's hands desperately grab the edge of the desk as he sinks further in and she moans, low and desperate. Coriolanus watches her take him inch by inch until he's finally in and they both gasp when he presses against her sweet spot. "Oh," she gasps, most likely somewhat in pain from the uncomfortable stretch. She'll learn to love it though.

Coriolanus is many things, but he's not a patient man so he immediately draws his hips back before slamming back into her cunt, relishing in the sounds she makes. She takes him like she was made for him and only him. "That's it," he says, "taking me so well darling, my little fuckdoll, my little secretary who always hoped I'd split her cunt open."

He watches Soarynn's face and smirks when he sees her eyes already rolling back from the punishing pace that this angle provides. "What are you Soarynn?" He lets go of her waist and grabs her face, sticking two fingers in her mouth, prying it open. Soarynn lets out a few pitiful, garbled moans before responding, "I'm yours, sir," she says, drooling all over his fingers and onto the desk.

He nods even though she can't see him, "That's right. No one else will ever see you like this or touch you like this, or hear you like this. You won't ever touch yourself again without my permission, am I clear?" He thinks Soarynn might agree to anything in this dumbed-down stage because she immediately nods, more drool dripping onto the desk. "Yes sir," she cries, her walls tightening around his cock.

Coriolanus swears under his breath, he didn't anticipate her to be this intoxicating, he'll have to be careful around her, keep her at arm's length for a while after this.

"Go ahead and cum for me darling, I know you want to, and you'll take everything I give you too." At that moment he wonders if she has the birth control implant most women have. She would if she's smart, a pretty girl like her is bound to be taken advantage of eventually. Thank goodness he found her before that happened.

He pulls his fingers from her mouth and grabs her upper arm, feeling around for the familiar feeling of the implant, and lets out a sigh of relief when he feels it lodged in her arm.

Soarynn whines in such a high pitch when she finally cums, her walls flutter around his cock as she has her first-ever orgasm. Coriolanus isn't far behind her and takes pride in finishing inside her cunt, making sure she takes every drop. He presses his hips tight against her ass, getting as deep as he possibly can before leaning over her so that his mouth ghosts her ear, "Lick your drool off my desk before I make you lick something else."

Even in her fucked out state, Soarynn shivers and seems to register that command. She lifts her head with a small groan and laps at the small puddle of drool that has accumulated on his desk. "That's my good girl," he praises, brushing her hair. It's so soft, he's imagined running his fingers through it so many times and now he finally can.

Normally, this would only be the first round, but Soarynn is shaking from exhaustion. He looks up at the clock to see that it's one o'clock in the morning. Far too late for either of them. "Let's discuss this arrangement more in the morning," he suggests before standing back up to pull out.

Soarynn moans when he finally does and Coriolanus wishes he could take a photograph of his cum leaking from her puffy cunt with traces of blood, signifying that her virginity now belongs to him and only him. "Arrangement?" She repeats, looking up at him from over her shoulder, and he nods, "Yes, an agreement is a better term for it. To ensure that we're both aware of what this is and what to expect from one another."

꧁ ꧂

He doesn't give her time to dwell over it, he simply grabs her waist and helps clean her up before letting her get dressed again. He keeps her panties in one of his desk drawers, enjoying how she blushes when he does it, "A little souvenir," he tells her with a wink.

Soarynn doesn't say anything. She doesn't say anything as they walk through the empty halls of the building to drop off the strategy plans before they both slip into his car so he can drive her home.

Coriolanus is somewhat impressed when they pull up to a nice-looking townhouse not too far from the Corso. "I assume that your parents left behind the house to you," he muses as they come to a stop. Soarynn nods and looks out the car window, "Yes sir."

Coriolanus supposes he should say something comforting, but he's never been the comforting type. Instead, he cups her face in his hand and brings her lips to his, their first kiss. He's always imagined what she'd feel like wrapped around his cock, but not once did he think about kissing her.

Soarynn's lips are so soft and she submits to him easily, letting his tongue explore her mouth as he pleases. When he pulls away she's breathless and looking at him with some sort of infatuation in her eyes. At least, he hopes it's infatuation. "I'll see you tomorrow morning Miss Nightingale."

Her face slightly falls as if she was expecting something more but Coriolanus has never been one to give more than he thinks is deserved. She slowly nods and opens the car door, slipping out into the cold night.

"Goodnight Mr. Snow."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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abiiors · 1 year ago

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secret santa 🎄 // ross macdonald x reader (pt 1 of 2)

twelve days of christmas - day 1

a/n: back in my posting fic era?? this could either be so so good or so horrendous! i am undecided. ps: the band mentioned in this fic is made up cw: very slight angst but that's about it wc: 2k

need to pick secret santa names pls!!!!!!!!!!

that’s matty’s annual reminder text that pings through your phone; every 25th of november at 9 am like clockwork (almost like he schedules it). the exclamation points are generous, excessive even. but you smile and text him back.

and almost like clockwork, everyone is at his house on the 1st.

the hang out is like usual—everyone is loud and chaotic and happy. ross makes everyone drinks and he’s generous with the whiskey. matty swears he’s so cold, his fingers are going to fall off. george and charli shoo him away when he tries to cuddle with them and you ultimately take pity on him and share your blanket.

you laugh till your stomach hurts and giggle at john dancing with polly and take a thousand selfies. and everyone cheers once the jar with everyone’s names is brought out.

matty stands on the sofa with the blanket wrapped around him like a cape and announces the “commencing of the annual secret santa”. he’s dramatic, he always is, and everyone revels in it.

you watch him shake the jar and then toss its contents on the coffee table. the folded pieces of paper fall down one by one like falling snowflakes and everyone scrambles for one; one of george’s rings scratches your hand and you accidentally end up stealing a paper from adam but no one cares amidst childlike excitement. everyone holds their chits close to their chest, throws long secretive glances at each other and the room fills with sounds of paper rustling as everyone opens them all at once.

you don’t. you watch the look on everyone’s face.

carly smiles wide (so she has adam) and adam frowns slightly (so he does not have carly). george groans but it has an undertone of fondness (matty), charli smirks (either ross or you, reading her is hard) and ross simply shrugs (probably george) before anyone can notice, you unfold the paper and stop the moment the first letter comes into view.

r…

one by one the other letters join in and you try and fail to contain your smile. ross! exactly who you wanted, exactly who you were hoping for!

you spend two whole days tracking it down, the coveted last record of divine connection. you follow every rumour diligently, every single piece of information anyone gives you online until you come across someone who seems trustworthy. someone who knows what they’re talking about.

it’s important that you get this—the last ever unreleased album from the band that shaped your and ross’ early friendship memories, provided the soundtrack to all those stolen joyrides, all the inside jokes and references that linger between you like a secret language.

it’s important for you to have this, for him to have this—a silent acknowledgement of all the feelings you’ll never confess out loud.

so you stay vigilant. you ask them how they managed to get a copy (they know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy who ran the recording studio where it was recorded) the anonymous seller even agrees to let you listen to the first two songs as a sample. the negotiation takes hours! in the end, you relent. it’s for ross, you don’t care what the price is, you only daydream about the look of utter fucking joy on his face.

one week later, ross texts in the group chat.

can we do the draw again? please! there’s someone i want to introduce you to.

jealousy is not in your blood, or so you thought until you see her on his lap, smiling the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen.

olivia (or liv, which is what she insists everyone calls her) is fucking perfect. there’s no denying it. she’s been here exactly 37 minutes and she’s already won matty over who was previously grumpy about having to redo the draw. and now you sit on one end of the sofa, watching them all laugh at the jokes you laugh at and retell her anecdotes that are supposed to be inside jokes.

a sour taste settles on your tongue like you’ve just sucked on a particularly nasty lime wedge.

olivia laughs sweetly.

“thanks for being so nice to me,” she says to everyone, you included, “for including me in the secret santa. i told ross you didn’t have to!”

he waves the comment away like it’s nothing, pecks her cheek even, and the anger in you drains away into a tired sadness.

liv is his type. not you, never you. you’re the best friend! he’s even said so multiple times. and when her smile lights up his entire face, you can’t help but feel like a bitter cunt.

“no worries darling! the more the merrier.” you almost scowl at george at that but hide it with a cough at the last minute.

your phone practically burns in your pocket—a message in particular, the one from the seller, telling you they’re ready to ship it as soon as you confirm payment. it’s unanswered because the fate of it currently hangs in the balance as the minutes tick by.

for the second time that week, matty brings out the jar of names, and this time they scatter on the coffee table like hail, dumped all at once. you don’t scramble to pick a chit with childlike glee. you don’t bother deciphering the looks on people’s faces. all but two that is! it’s impossible to look away from him when he smiles so sweetly—eyes crinkling and dimples on display. fondness is painfully clear on his face and you know what that paper says.

next to him, liv’s entire face brightens.

do you want it or not? i’ve got other buyers lined up mate.

you can feel the sender’s annoyance through the screen. it’s justified though, you’ve practically ghosted them for three days.

the real question is do you even want it anymore?

you adore matty, the new name on your paper but he has no connection to the band. that’s solely a thing between you and ross, not something you’d be willing to share with matty even tho he’s an occasional listener. logically you know he’d appreciate it solely as a collector. but the thought of anyone else having it apart from ross, even if that someone is matty, burns a hole in your chest.

and so you text back.

i still want it.

and then you send them the money.

the record sits at the bottom of your drawer, taunting you every time you open it to take out a new pair of socks (quite often considering it’s december). and you try to cover it with the book you got for matty (a first edition classic that has faint pencil annotations rumoured to be from the author himself) but your heart quickens at the prospect of any damage to the vinyl—an item currently more valuable than every single thing in your house.

so that’s how it sits, nestled carefully between thick wollen socks, collecting dust until you decide what to do with it. maybe it’ll make a good birthday present for him. and yet it feels oddly personal now that he has liv in his life.

it’s a foreign feeling, you realise, strangely hollow and ache-y, to feel like you’re being too personal, too intimate with a man you consider your best friend (perhaps even more so than he’s aware of).

it’s especially difficult when his invitation sits in your phone unanswered.

come see the practice show for the uk leg with us.

you want to. so so badly! to watch him be excited and involved and happy with what he’s doing. you especially love the spark in his eyes when he has a new idea, a new trick up his sleeve. to sit there the whole time and watch him in his element might just be the best thing ever.

so you weigh the pros and cons—it will be like the old times again! liv might be there… but she might not! and even if she is, you can live with it, you can do it.

and so you text him back and promise to meet up with him in an hour.

turns out liv is there.

not only is she there, she’s also involved herself in the process—lending out small ideas here and there, praising someone when she loves a particular detail. you want to be mad at them all for betraying you like this; for becoming so enamoured with her so quickly, despite knowing how childish it sounds.

it’s not their fault you buried your feelings in so deep that they never even had the chance to guess.

still, polly’s gaze lingers on you every once in a while, particularly when ross and liv kiss (although you chalk it up to coincidence even when she makes an effort to involve you in the conversation)

“you put so much thought into it!” she compliments while flicking through the selection of dvds that will go into the house eventually. you want to tell her it’s your job, to look throught the films. how you and ross always make a movie night out of it but of course she catches you staring at the stack.

“wait, ross told me the two of you always end up watching half the films from the stack instead of picking them out!” she giggles slightly and you jolt at the surprise of being addressed so directly out of nowhere.

“yeah… yeah i guess. it just kind of happens!”

she hums in response. “a friend movie date, that adorable!”

this time ross smiles with her. yeah. a friend movie date. what a fucking oxymoron. and yet you paste a smile onto your face and nod like a malfunctioning robot.

“it’s really fun, yeah!”

“you should join us next time, babe,” ross chimes in and a pit forms in your stomach. of course he’d want that, for his girlfriend to be there. but the silence that settles over the room is an odd one. and no one speaks of the movies after that.

liv approaches you when you’re alone, sneaking a tiny cig by the window.

she tries small talk and it fizzles out within minutes, then she tries empty compliments but it’s clear she’s here with a motive. she’s here to ask you something and so you decide to be direct.

“can i help you with anything, liv?”

she smiles a sheepish little smile and wrings her hands together. “well… yeah, you guessed it. i’m uh… i need your help.”

that piques your curiosity. what could you possibly help her with? until she glances behind her and vaguely in ross’ direction where he’s busy chatting with jordan and then back at you.

“don’t tell ross but…i’ve got him for secret santa and i really want to give him something special, you know? i really like him and i don’t just want to give him something super generic just because we’re still getting to know each other. and i thought you’d know since you guys are really close, so i thought…” she takes a deep breath and puffs out her cheeks. “i thought i’d ask you!”

the next time she smiles, it’s a brilliant little thing directed entirely at you and maybe for the first time you really see what ross might like about her. even when you want to laugh at the fucking irony.

here’s his girlfirend, struggling to find the perfect gift and then here you are, letting the perfect gift collect dust in your sock drawer.

you look behind her and at ross who quickly averts his gaze from the two of you and back to jordan. his shoulders tense for a split second, followed by an imperceptible shake of his head. this is it, you think. your chance to do something selfless for once. so you smile back at her and make sure it’s at least half genuine this time.

“you know what, liv? i think i have exactly what you need…”

lemme know what you think <33

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