#imagine ryan the office

[jevaisjeviens]

Mais headcannons do Ryan x Leitora/reader

Parte 1 | Parte 2 | Parte 3

Vocês se mudam juntos

ele está um pouco preocupado sobre a própria individualidade;

impulsivamente, em uma noite de bebedeira, ele declarou que vocês deveriam morar juntos, e depois não conseguiu voltar atrás;

ele se sente estúpido por duvidar da própria ideia, mas é porque ele é muito medroso em relação a se comprometer, e cada nova fase é que ele enfrenta é difícil;

ele começa a ficar mais de boa quando vocês visitam um apartamento exatamente como nos sonhos dele: algo moderno e pequeno;

no dia da mudança, ele já está bem mais animado e se oferece para passar na sua casa e pegar as suas caixas;

ele faz um pouco de corpo mole na hora de desembalar tudo;

quando vocês já estão instalados no novo apê, ele resolve se meter a cozinhar e te pede ajuda para fazer o jantar;

a comida não fica muito boa, mas você fica feliz porque ele tentou.

O apartamento

você é o despertador de Ryan todas as manhãs;

algumas poucas vezes para te agradar ele acorda antes e prepara algo simples para você comer;

ele preza pela própria individualidade, então ele passa a maior parte do tempo jogando videogame ou trabalhando em seu próprio site;

algumas vezes, quando ele faz uma pausa em suas coisas, ele vai verificar se você está na sala e te dá um beijo na boca do nada;

você sempre cozinha, e mesmo contra-gosto, ele sempre lava a louça;

"hoje é o seu dia de tirar o lixo"

algumas vezes, ele apenas não está afim de saber sobre o seu dia, mas ele vai ouvir mesmo assim;

em alguns dias ele diz que vai sair e demora para voltar, mas é apenas porque ele quer mesmo passar um tempo sozinho em algum bar ou café - ele não está te traíndo e você sabe disso.

Você teve um pesadelo

"Gatinha? Você está bem?"

ele está realmente assustado com você acordar gritando;

ele te faz deitar no colo dele até dormir novamente, mas acaba dormindo antes de você;

na manhã seguinte, ele se lembrará disso e vai perguntar sobre o que era o seu pesadelo.

Ele teve um pesadelo

Ryan externaliza totalmente seus medos quanto aos pesadelos que tem;

ele procura afeto em você porque se sente apavorado;

ele vai descrever o sonho nos mínimos detalhes;

ele vai pedir beijos para se distrair, mas você sabe onde isso vai acabar.

Pegação

Ryan tem um bom autocontrole e ele usa disso para te provocar (muito);

"já está assim, gatinha?"

ele te dá beijos cada vez mais quentes e lentos e sabe exatamente onde estão os seus pontos fracos;

ele quer dominar e tem um ego enorme a ser preenchido, então quer sempre te satisfazer em primeiro lugar;

na maioria das vezes, é ele quem começa a passar a mão em você;

ele gosta MESMO de beijar, então está sempre te beijando na hora do sexo ou não;

algumas vezes, ele quer apenas te beijar de forma quente, mas não quer ir adiante;

ele vai te fazer implorar por ele porque gosta de se sentir desejado;

"eu preciso de você em cima de mim agora"

mensagens quentes no meio do trabalho para que você se prepare para quando chegarem em casa.

Você está insegura com a sua aparência

Ryan não entende nada disso;

ele acha que você não deveria externalizar suas inseguranças;

tudo que ele pode fazer é te dizer o quanto te acha sexy e gostosa;

ele realmente NÃO entende porque você se sente insegura, já que, para ele, você é a mulher mais bonita do mundo.

Casamento

vai demorar, mas após os 30 anos, ele vai dar o braço a torcer. se o relacionamento de vocês durou todo esse tempo, então ele acha que vocês podem se casar;

você vai ter que ser paciente, porque Ryan dá um passo de cada vez e são passos lentos e bem espaçados - ele REALMENTE tem medo de copromisso e de tudo dar simplesmente errado;

o pedido não é planejado. um dia ele olha para você na cama, com o cabelo bagunçado, cantarolando alguma música do Radiohead enquanto lê um livro e solta um: deveríamos nos casar;

ele compra um anel de noivado não muito caro, mas elegante, e dessa vez ele vai levar flores também, pela primeira vez;

ele conta para literalmente TODO mundo que vocês estão noivos e aprecia a expressão de choque das pessoas;

ele não quer que ninguém da empresa seja padrinho ou madrinha, mas não vai contra quando você convida a Erin ou a Pam para serem madrinhas;

"precisamos MESMO convidar todos os nossos colegas de serviço, gatinha?"

ele não está muito engajado em planejar, mas aprova ou desaprova as ideias que você apresenta à ele;

"não esquece da nossa lua de mel em vegas. eu não abro mão disso"

ele escolhe uma data perto porque tem um medo interno de mudar de ideia;

alguns dias antes do casamento ele está tão ansioso que acha que vai morrer;

(continua)

[castieltrash1]

I'm desperate for any content with Driver or K, maybe just how'd they treat you as their partner? Love your work!!

driver is a bit of a chameleon boyfriend. he’s used to blending in and attracting as little attention as possible, which extends to his personal life. whatever you’re interested in, so is he. if you like to eat somewhere, he’ll suggest that place every time you mention being hungry. as long as you are happy, that’s all that really matters to him. if you want to plan dates, he’ll follow your schedule down to the second. and if you’re more spontaneous, he’ll have his jacket and car keys nearby to take you wherever you want. 

he’s protective, of course, but he also loves seeing you be successful in whatever endeavors you pursue in life. whether that’s a mundane 9-5 or a niche passion that doesn’t pay the bills, he will cheer you on for every milestone you cross. ideally, he’d take care of you in every way that matters (financially, emotionally, mentally, physically, etc.) but he doesn’t want to stifle you, either. that doesn’t mean he won’t silently fix any of your problems behind your back, though! bitchy manager bothering you? you’ll never believe it, but she switched locations! low on rent? you must’ve forgotten those couple hundred dollar bills you left haphazardly tucked between your mattress! too tired to cook dinner? well, your boyfriend just texted saying he’s off work and would love to grab something and swing by your place to eat!

safe to say, one of his love languages is acts of service. including the ones you don’t know about, he takes care of every problem in your life. he’ll catch every bug, fix every leaky sink, install your new curtains, reconnect your router, change your oil, etc. speaking of cars, if you’re insistent on driving yourself everywhere, driver will check your car every five seconds to make sure it’s safe.

+ driver isn’t big on pda, but if you’ve just arrived or are leaving, he will pout without a kiss hello or goodbye. if you forget (or purposely avoid for the sake of teasing) either, he’ll follow you, grab your wrist, and use his other hand to hold your jaw steady while he kisses you. only then will he smile, let go, and pretend nothing happened.

-

OFFICER K UNDER THE CUT!

k can be insecure, sometimes. he knows it’s already hard enough dating a replicant, but his dangerous job doesn’t make it any easier. all he has to offer you is his plain apartment and the nights he’s not working, neither of which he finds particularly appealing. he’s not really sure why you like him, but he’ll be damned if he gives you any reason to break it off. every second that he can devote to you, he does. 

since he’s out in the city most of the time, k enjoys spending time indoors. of course, if you want to go anywhere while he’s home, he’ll be stuck to your side like glue, glaring at anyone who even gives you a second glance. but, what he loves most of all is curling up beside you and listening to the rainfall. nothing makes him feel more human than doing nothing for the sole purpose of it. he’s made to perform tasks, so there’s something rebellious about enjoying the silence of your apartment, counting each beat of your heart, and feeling the warmth of your skin against the synthetic of his. knowing that he doesn’t have to service you or offer anything for you to want to spend time with him makes him ecstatic.

while k can’t afford lavish gifts or, really, much at all, he does come into contact with a large collection of rare items at work. he’s always excited to bring evidence home since he knows you’ll get a kick out of seeing and touching a real flower or piece of wood. while the scarcity of the item intrigues him, he doesn’t have the same desire to connect to humanity’s past the way you, understandably, do. where he sees just another part of an ongoing case, you see years of ancestry and a forgotten world. secretly, the excited glint in your eyes has started to make him feel something similar.

+ k loves pet names. the first time you called him babe/baby, he stilled and stared at you in shock. he’d heard humans referring to other humans that way, but the names people usually called him were very different. whenever you call him a pet name, he smiles, almost unconsciously. he’s tried every combination of affection terms with you, but his favorites are the personalized ones that he knows no one else ever has or ever will call you. they remind him that, for now, at least, you’re entirely his. when you use them in return, he feels unique, like a human. he feels like he finally has a real name. out of the well-known ones, however, k’s favorites are sweetheart, dear, flower, and pretty. flower and other pet names based on things that are now rare feel especially fitting to him, since someone “as perfect as you is hard to find.”

gosling sleepover sunday

[ken-dom]

can you write some fluff with Officer K? I’m desperate!! Nobody seems to post about him anymore sadly and you’re one of my favorite ryan gosling accounts !!

like his first time cuddling since he’s extremely touch starved

or first time trying a sweet

maybe playing in the snow

WHATEVER YOU LIKE!!! THANK YOU!!!

Thank you anon, that’s very sweet of you! I love a touch starved guy getting some fluff in his life so…

K is frozen to the spot as your arms move forward and snake around his waist, hands gliding up his back, squeezing and caressing.

He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. He knows the etiquette, but he can’t seem to translate that from knowledge to action. Not when it feels so…? Good?

He hears you sigh, feels you relax against his stiff frame, and he can’t stop his thoughts wandering to why you’d want this — with him, anyway. He sees the appeal of it, though, and he begins to crave more the longer you’re attached to him, but part of him is saying it’s not ok to reciprocate. You’re real. And he’s…

Well, he knows what he is. And he knows that you know what he is, so it circles back to, Why?

You break his thoughts with a whispered, ‘It’s ok.’

That’s all it takes, and suddenly the floodgates open and he knows what to do. His arms close around you more easily than he anticipated, he drops his head to yours and really lets himself feel.

It all happens so fast he thinks he might have hurt you, but you’re still comfortably pressed against his chest, breathing steadily, humming now and then at the closeness, and he hums too, following your lead.

It’s weirdly tingly and wonderfully soft, and it’s warm, and it’s safe.

He wonders if it’s normal to never want to let go, but as if you read his mind, you mumble that very same sentiment against his chest and it gives him the courage to ask if you’ll stay a while, hoping to lay on the sofa with you, or on the bed, just like this. Just feeling. Safe.

[the-purest-wolf]

Those long blonde hairs and the suit are driving me crazy

[drivinmeinsane]

Thoughts on Officer KD6-3.7 as a romantic partner

It takes K a long time to confront his own feelings about you, much less say it out loud. He was worried that if he acknowledged the love he feels for you, he would be irreparably changed, never close to baseline again. He wasn’t wrong. To love and to be loved in return is to be changed.

He uses terms of endearment for you more than he uses your name. It helps to make his dreams of serene domesticity more of a reality. “sweetheart”, “darling”, and “honey” are his go-tos. The first time you called him by a pet name, he stopped dead in his tracks, completely overwhelmed. It gives him a sense of humanity, of belonging, when you call by something kind.

K would never miss a special date. He’ll even go so far as to make up his own milestones and celebrations as an excuse to do something nice for you when the mood strikes. It’s your anniversary today? Sure, of the twentieth Tuesday you’ve known him.

The replicant is touch starved. Even simple brushes of your hand against his or grazes of your bodies together when you move past one another is enough to bring him leaning into your space, chasing the sensation. It is not something he seems to have control over.

He's more comfortable being touched than being the one to touch. He’s not accustomed to being allowed to initiate contact with no orders or with implied permission. Once K overcomes that barrier, he can hardly keep his hands off of you. He places lingering hands on your arms, brushes his fingers over your palm, winds your hair around his fingers, anything at all to feel something tangible and remind himself that you are here with him.

He wants so badly to be real for you. In his worst moments, he’s worried that he won’t ever be enough, that his status as a replicant makes him lesser, not worthy of your affections. His fears lead him to believe that you would prefer an organic partner.

K often tells you that you don’t have to be nice to him, that you don’t have to treat him with the care and tenderness that you do. He can’t seem to fathom that you actually want him. He doesn’t have anything to offer you but himself and that’s hardly worth having, isn’t it?

He would do anything within the realm of his capabilities for you. You are the most important thing in his existence. He wishes he were not a despised pet tethered to the LAPD. He wishes he could leave without becoming what he retires.

He reads to you. It takes his mind off the work day. The apartment isn’t filled with many books, but you enjoy each of them because the time he spends reading out loud is soothing for the both of you. His steady voice lulls you into a relaxed state from where he reads in his chair as you sit on the couch with his feet resting on your lap. His voice gets rougher and deeper when you trace nonsensical patterns over his legs.

While he’s not supposed to take items from crime scenes, he does it anyway, slipping them into the pockets on the inside of his coat. He comes home and shows what he has taken to you with the earnest hope that you will enjoy the meager offering. He can’t afford to give you much, but he can do this.

He always looks at you like you’re going to disappear. His eyes scan you like a data screen any chance he gets. He’s memorizing everything about you with each pass of his eyes. He holds those observations close for fear they’ll be all he has left of you. He doesn’t get to keep things. He doesn’t get to own anything that can’t be taken away. He’s a possession himself. 

18+ content under the cut.

His cum is bio-luminescent. In the dark, it glows a pretty blue to match his eyes. It's another reminder that K is not quite human.

He's nervous about sexual contact due to past experiences and trauma. You're one of the very few people that he's actually wanted to be intimate with. He’s firm, almost aggressive, in bed. He’s starved for physical intimacy for so long, that he longs to feast, to make up for the absence.

K firmly believes that he is a tool. He is made to give, not to receive, so it surprises him every time when you want to bring him pleasure for the sake of it. The novelty of receiving a blow job or something that focuses solely on him never wears off.

He has a breeding kink. He knows it's impossible for him to get anyone pregnant, but it's nice to occasionally lose himself in the fantasy of being real enough to make it happen.

If Joi is an active participant in your lives, one thing that really gets him off is engaging in sex with you while Joi is activated. Her being there to murmur encouraging things to the both of you, dictating how you should touch each other, gets him cumming embarrassingly fast.

{ m a s t e r l i s t }

[glitterpeachtree]

The short Stories of Sierra Six and Claire

It didn't take long for Claire to start showing signs of post traumatic stress disorder. After losing Donald, Claire seemed a bit off. I noticed that she would keep her bedroom door open, she always needed to know where I was going, and she started having nightmares. When we first moved into the safe house, I let her have the master bedroom. Although it wasn't much bigger than the other bedroom, it had its own bathroom connected to it and a slightly bigger closet. I was no expert on tween girls, but I knew that I should probably give her as much privacy as possible.

"Six? I know you wanted me to have this bedroom, but I really would rather have the other bedroom." She asked on the first night at the house. We were both in the living room getting settled.

"Are you sure? I really don't care if I have the small room" I said to her. She put her book down, she was reading Little House on the Prairie. She glanced at her bedroom door, and then back at me and frowned.

"I just don't like how it's in the corner of the house. I feel...like I'm...Trapped?" Claire avoided eye contact with me when she said that. After her parents, and her uncle dying, not to mention getting kidnapped, it would make sense for Claire to feel this way.

"Okay. I understand." I nodded. "Claire?" She looked up at me. "You know I'm not going anywhere, right?" Claire nodded and then picked her book back up.

......

A couple days later I got up around 5am and went to do a perimeter check around the house. I thought Claire was sound asleep in her bedroom (her small bedroom), but as I zipped my jacket up, I saw her peak from her door and say, "Where are you going?" she looked panicked, breathless.

"I'm-Im just doing a quick once around. I didn't mean to wake you." She stared at me for a moment. "I'll be right back Claire, I promise. Go back to bed."

Once I came back into the house I found Claire sitting at the small dining room table. It had 3 chairs, though one was broken. The leg was loose and could probably pop off if someone sat on it. Claire was staring straight ahead, her knee bouncing. She was scared and nervous. She was afraid that I was going to spontaneously disappear.

"Told ya I'd be back." She whipped her head around. It took me a minute to realize that she was crying. "Claire-" Before I could finish saying her name she ran up to me and buried her head in my chest. She started sobbing a little bit

"He's g-gone. And he's never coming back-ck." Of course she was talking about Donald. Donald had been her "father" since her parents died. He was the last family she (and I) had left. I rubbed her back and rested my chin on her head. We swayed side to side a tiny bit. I clutched my other hand over her shoulder, and we stayed like that, until she could catch her breath.

"Claire...It's gonna be okay." I said to her. After a couple of minutes she muttered, "I can't lose you too. Six, you're all I have left."

Immediately I felt my heart flutter. I was now Claire's father figure. After a life of prison, murder, and guilt, I realized what my true calling was. I felt whole again. I embraced Claire a little tighter, and let go, and looked at down at her.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" She nodded and looked down at the floor.

"Can you just, stay? Like until I fall asleep?"

"Yeah. Sure."

.....

[hederasgarden]

I just finished Blade Runner 2049 and I’m very glad I watched it! It helped me understand Interlinked more. Not that I didn’t before, it just adds more to the experience.

And when K is getting his Baseline checked after dealing with Sapper, and they have him say ‘Interlinked’, I was like

So in conclusion, I can’t wait to read what you’ve got coming up for our dear K.

I am glad you watched the movie, it's SO good and underrated. Beautifully shot too.

I shamelessly stole the title from that scene. All I have for K right now is the story below, but I have other plans! He is such a sad and sweet character.

[kxllerblond]

I'll preface this with Clark had no idea he was going to die when he did (murder tends to work like that) and he certainly had no idea he would come clawing his way out of his own coffin thirty years later. Any investing, any sort of nets he set up for himself in certain areas that would prove useful later were a mixture of luck and his typical 'Have a Plan A through D ready at all times' personality. I'll also remind everyone I'm a dirty little oc with that exists in the shared Alien/Bl*de Runner universe (with sprinkles of other futuristic franchises like D:BH)

By 2017, Clark was already dipping his hands quite heavily into the business world. His interest is genuine but there's also that beginning realization of knowing it's a necessity as well. Though nothing close to the noteworthy stockholder he'd be later, he takes out a small share in several up and coming corporations as well the Tyrell corp. This continues through the years with varying scandals, etc and an every shifting market. He moves his money around with purpose and really learns the ins and outs of the financial world. Cyberlife also comes into play at some point and this continues up until his murder in 2024 at the age of 50.

When he comes back, he pretty much goes into overdrive rebuilding and has more or less gone 0-60mph immediately and just stays there. I'm talking this man practically accomplishes more in 20 or so years than most would in two lifetimes. He barely sleeps, he's got no other thought. He's just fully focused on establishing himself and rebuilding his web. He becomes a notable stockholder (under numerous aliases) for quite a number of the large corps at the time including the Wallace and later Weyland Industries. By 2075 onward, he's practically Br*ce Wayne on steroids in terms of wealth and connection in the business world.

The 'tl;dr' of this all is Clark has consistently been there for the big technological life boom ( and space travel, etc). He's invested in it, encouraged it, help it grow in his more influential years all while KNOWING it was a bad idea. This is a man that was born in fucking '74. He lived through the boom of the Internet, social media, AI, etc. And he lived through it all in a capitalistic society. Anyone with a brain would know at that point what giving Man any semblance of power to create life would mean.

He watches his planet die. He watches market crash after market crash. He watches food shortages, wars, etc. If you live long enough, you notice the trends and notice how it's all just one big cycle and he gets very tired of living cycle after cycle very fast. That's the biggest theme of 'canon' timeline that's lost since I play him vaguely modern for the majority of the RPC. It's that fatigue. That wear and tear of being an anachronism, of seeing the same mistakes made over and over and at some point he stops taking joy in watching men realize their folly. He's just there to pick up the pieces and continue existing as he does until someone else comes along and does the same bullshit all over again.

That and also I lose the theme of him getting to kiss replicants and androids but that's a whole other monster.

[pedroscowgirl]

Unspoken desires

hugh jackman x afab!reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI!

age gap (reader 20s, hugh is 55), angst (no bad stuff), p in v , creampie (wrap it up), choking, talking about feelings, daddy issues (again)

Words: 5.1k

A/N: You can read this separately but i imagined this as a part 2 of this fic that i wrote :) enjoy! (i have so much hugh in my concepts it's bad)

MASTERLIST

Weeks had drifted by since you and Hugh first began your casual sleeping together, and what had once been a whirlwind of passion had gradually settled into something more routine. The excitement of your initial encounters had softened into a comfortable familiarity. The chemistry was still there, moments together still brought a sense of warmth and pleasure but the raw spark that had once set your skin on fire was slowly dimming. You found yourself wondering if Hugh felt it too, or if he was simply going along with the flow, just as you were.

Today, you were set to see Hugh again, but this time it wasn’t just a private rendezvous. Instead of meeting privately, you were headed to a small gathering at his apartment to celebrate the overwhelming success of the Deadpool and Wolverine movie, which had just hit theatres and shattered expectations at the box office. It was a big moment for Hugh, and he was proud of the film, so when he invited you to join in the celebration, you didn’t hesitate.

Choosing an outfit for the occasion felt like a delicate balance,you wanted to look stunning, but also to pay homage to Hugh’s iconic role. After sifting through your closet, you decided on a little black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was simple yet elegant, with gold accents that gleamed under the light, a subtle nod to the yellow of Wolverine's costume. You paired it with matching accessories,a gold bracelet, earrings that caught the light, and heels that made you feel confident with each step. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation mixed with a hint of uncertainty. This was more than just another night together, it was an event, a step into his world, however small.

When you finally arrived at Hugh’s apartment, the evening air was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you felt when you thought of seeing him. As you stood at his door, you took a deep breath, willing yourself to enjoy the night no matter what. The door swung open, revealing Hugh dressed casually but impeccably, his smile as charming as ever. The sight of him sent a familiar flutter through your chest, but as you leaned in to greet him with a kiss on the mouth, a gesture that had become natural between you, but he shifted slightly, his lips brushing against your cheek instead. It was a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it caught you off guard. The kiss on the cheek was friendly, almost distant, and you couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. It was as if the shift you had sensed over the past weeks was crystallizing in this single moment.

Hugh pulled you into a warm hug, his hand lingering on your back, but the initial awkwardness of the missed kiss lingered in the air. As you stepped inside, you noticed the apartment was already buzzing with energy. Laughter echoed from the living room, where a few of Hugh’s close friends, including Ryan and Blake, were already gathered, drinks in hand. The atmosphere was lively, the kind of joyous occasion that should have made you feel welcome and at ease, but instead, a small seed of doubt had taken root in your mind.

You knew Hugh was a private person, especially when it came to his relationships. He hadn’t told anyone about the two of you—not even Ryan and Blake, who were like family to him. It wasn’t hard to understand why. Hugh had confided in you once, in a quiet moment after you’d made love, that he sometimes felt self-conscious about the age gap between you. He’d joked about being “too old” for you, but there had been a seriousness in his eyes that told you it wasn’t just a passing thought. It was something that lingered at the back of his mind, and now, it seemed like that insecurity was starting to manifest in small, subtle ways.

Despite the initial awkwardness, you resolved not to let it ruin the night. This was Hugh’s moment to shine, and you were determined to be there for him. You pushed the doubts aside, telling yourself that there was no need to overthink things. After all, this was supposed to be a celebration, not a night to get lost in your thoughts. You grabbed a glass of champagne from the counter, smiling at Hugh as you joined the others in the living room. The conversation flowed easily, and soon, you found yourself laughing along with the group, the earlier tension beginning to fade into the background.

As the night wore on, you caught glimpses of Hugh across the room, his eyes occasionally meeting yours with a softness that reassured you, if only a little. There were moments when he would come over, resting his hand on your shoulder or leaning in to share a private joke, and for those brief intervals, it felt like nothing had changed. But then he would pull away, drawn back into the conversation with his friends, and you were left wondering if he was purposely keeping a distance, or if you were just imagining it.

Even more time passed, and you found yourself deep in conversation with one of the crew members from the film. The discussion was engaging, he was sharing behind-the-scenes stories about the production, and you were genuinely interested, laughing at the amusing anecdotes he recounted. But despite the lively conversation, a part of your attention remained elsewhere. You couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had lingered since your arrival.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Hugh across the room. He was standing with a small group, his handsome face lit up with that familiar, heart-melting smile of his. But what caught your attention wasn’t the smile itself, it was the person he was smiling at. Beside him was a stunning blonde woman, who looked to be in her late forties. She was effortlessly elegant, with a confidence that matched her beauty. As she spoke, Hugh laughed, his deep, warm laughter carrying across the room. But it was the way he looked at her that made your heart drop. There was a softness in his gaze, an ease that you hadn’t seen in him in a while.

A pang of jealousy surged through you, sharp and unexpected. You knew you had no right to feel this way. Hugh was a free man now, having finalized his divorce about a year ago. It had been a difficult time for him, and you had been there to support him, offering comfort when he needed it. But now, seeing him with someone else, that rational understanding faded into the background, replaced by a raw, unfiltered emotion. You couldn’t help it, you loved him. It wasn’t something you had intended or even expected when you first started seeing each other, but the more time you spent with Hugh, the more you realized just how deep your feelings ran.

It felt strange, almost surreal, to acknowledge it to yourself. Hugh was a man who seemed to have it all—charm, good looks, kindness, and a genuine warmth that made people feel at ease around him. He was sweet to everyone, always the gentleman, and his sincerity was what drew you to him in the first place. How could anyone not fall in love with him? But knowing this didn’t make it any easier to watch him with someone else, especially when the woman beside him was clearly just as taken by his charisma as you were.

You watched as she leaned in closer to him, her hand resting lightly on his muscular arm, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. The sight made your stomach twist into knots. It was a casual touch, nothing overtly intimate, but it spoke volumes. Hugh didn’t pull away,instead, he smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you found so endearing. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the room closing in around you as your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions—jealousy, insecurity, fear. Did she know him better than you did? Was she someone from his past, or perhaps someone new who had caught his eye? The questions swirled in your head, unanswered and tormenting.

You suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. One of the people in your conversation circle was looking at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cutting through the noise in your mind. You forced a smile and nodded quickly as you tried to gather yourself. “I’m fine,” you managed to say, even though the words felt empty. But the last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself, especially when you were struggling to keep your emotions in check.

“Excuse me,” you added hastily, your voice barely steady. You needed to get away, to find a place where you could breathe and collect your thoughts. But the walls of the apartment seemed to be closing in on you, the lively chatter and laughter around you becoming overwhelming. And without waiting for a response, you turned and made your way toward the bathroom, your steps quickening as you navigated through the crowded room.

As you closed the bathroom door behind you, the noise of the party was muffled, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You leaned against the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror with your heart still pounding in your chest. The image staring back at you was composed on the surface, but you could see the cracks just beneath, the vulnerability that you had been trying so hard to hide. It was hard to reconcile the feelings that had surged within you tonight. You hadn’t expected to feel so strongly, but now that you did, it was impossible to ignore.

The truth was, you didn’t just care about Hug, you were in love with him. And seeing him with someone else, seeing that look in his eyes that used to be directed at you, was a painful reminder that whatever you had was complicated and perhaps not as secure as you had hoped. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and tried to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You knew you couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, but for now, it was a safe haven where you could relax and decide how to face the rest of the night.

After a few minutes, you splashed some cool water on your face, hoping it would help clear your mind. The mirror reflected your slightly dampened makeup, but you quickly touched it up, not wanting anyone to see any sign of distress. You told yourself that tonight was about celebrating Hugh’s success, not about your complicated feelings. You could deal with those later, when you were alone and away from the prying eyes of his friends and colleagues.

When you finally felt composed enough to rejoin the party, you took one last deep breath and opened the bathroom door. The lively sounds of the gathering filled your ears again, and as you stepped back into the main room, you scanned the crowd, trying to locate Hugh without being too obvious.

And after trying to push through the rest of the evening with forced smiles and half-hearted conversations, you reached your breaking point. It was too much—the tension, the uncertainty, the way Hugh seemed so comfortable with someone else while you were left questioning everything. You decided you needed to get out of there, to put some distance between you and whatever this was becoming before you snapped in front of everyone.

Without saying a word, you started making your way toward the door, weaving through the remaining guests. You had almost reached the exit when you felt a strong hand wrap around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned sharply to find Hugh standing behind you, his eyes filled with concern and a hint of confusion.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice low but firm, clearly sensing that something was wrong.

You pulled your wrist from his grip, trying to avoid his gaze as you muttered, “I need some air.”

But Hugh wasn’t letting you go that easily. He stepped closer, his presence demanding your attention. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all night. Talk to me.”

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to admit what was really bothering you, especially when you knew you had no right to feel this way. But the frustration that had been building inside you all evening finally boiled over. You spun around to face him, your eyes flashing with anger.

“Nothing’s wrong, Hugh. I just need to get out of here, okay?” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to leave before you said something you couldn’t take back.

Hugh frowned, not buying your answer for a second. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s really going on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached for your hand again, this time holding it more gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture that only made you more frustrated.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you from leaving. “Hugh, just let me go,” you snapped, but he didn’t budge.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle as he guided you toward the hallway that led to his bedroom. You followed him, more out of exasperation than anything else, knowing that this conversation wasn’t something you couldn’t avoid any longer.

Once inside his room, Hugh closed the door behind you, shutting out the noise of the party. The silence between you was thick with tension as you stood there, your arms crossed, staring at the floor. Hugh watched you, waiting for you to speak, but when you didn’t, he finally broke the silence.

“Why are you so upset?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if trying to coax the truth out of you.

You clenched your jaw, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m not upset,” you lied, the words bitter on your tongue. “I just… I just don’t want to be here right now.”

Hugh sighed, stepping closer until he was right in front of you. He reached out, placing a hand on your chin and gently lifting your face so you were forced to look at him. “I know you better than that. What’s really going on?”

His concern and tenderness only made you angrier. You wanted to push him away, to run out of the room and forget this whole night ever happened. But the emotions you had been holding back finally broke free, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

“I saw you with her, Hugh!” you burst out, your voice shaking with frustration and hurt. “That woman, you were laughing with her, looking at her like she was the only person in the room. And I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. I can’t help it.”

Hugh’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered, his expression softening as he realized what had been bothering you. “You think… you think I’m interested in her?” he asked, disbelief colouring his tone.

You didn’t answer, but your silence spoke volumes. Hugh let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process what you were saying. “She’s just a friend,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “There’s nothing going on between us. I was just being friendly,” Hugh said, his tone dismissive.

You let out a sigh, your eyes narrowing as you locked onto his. “I know what your 'friendly' looks like, Hugh. I’ve seen you flirt before.” He hesitated, the realization of your words sinking in. Finally, he sighed, admitting, “Alright, maybe I was flirting a little. But there’s nothing official between us, for fucks sake I’m twice your age, so why does it bother you so much?” His voice carried a hint of annoyance as he met your gaze, clearly frustrated.

And as the heated exchange between you and Hugh unfolded in his bedroom, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions, Hugh took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. Instead of matching your rising anger, he opted for a calmer approach, his voice measured and gentle.

"Listen," he began, his eyes searching yours earnestly. "I never meant to hurt you. I just thought... given our age difference, that this was something light, something fun for both of us. You have your entire life ahead of you. You should be out there, enjoying yourself, experiencing things with people your own age. Building a future with someone who can match your energy, your plans, your dreams."

His words felt like a cold splash of water, momentarily drowning the flames of your anger. But soon, a different kind of heat rose within you,a mix of hurt and disbelief. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to process his confession.

"So, you think this is just a fling for me?" you choked out, voice quivering. "That I'm just... passing time with you until someone my age comes along?"

Hugh looked pained, but he held your gaze. "I just didn't want to hold you back. I thought keeping things casual was best for both of us."

A tear escaped, trailing down your cheek. "Hugh, you idiot," you whispered, voice breaking. "I don't care about your age. I don't care about any of that. I care about you. Can't you see that?"

He reached out, gently wiping the tear from your face with his thumb. "I just didn't want to be the reason you missed out on experiences, on opportunities."

You shook your head intensely. "The only thing I'd miss out on is being with you. Can't you understand that? It's not about age or experiences. It's about how I feel when I'm with you."

Before you could even form another sentence, Hugh's lips crashed onto yours with a passion that sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His kiss was intense, all-consuming, and filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. You could feel the urgency in the way he held you, his hands gripping your waist tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

Without breaking the kiss, Hugh swept you off your feet, his strong arms effortlessly lifting you from the floor. You clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest as he carried you over to the bed. There was something primal in his movements, a raw need that resonated deep within you. He laid you down with a surprising gentleness, as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

His hands moved to the zipper of your little black dress, slowly drawing it down with a deliberate precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The dress slipped down your shoulders, exposing your skin to the cool air, and he paused to admire the sight of you, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers brushed over the bare skin of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine as the dress slid further down your body, finally pooling around your hips before he removed it entirely.

You were now laid bare before him, and the way he looked at you made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He began to undress himself, his movements quick and sure, until his clothes lay discarded on the floor. The sight of him standing there, naked and aroused, was enough to make your mouth go dry. His body was a masterpiece, every muscle perfectly defined, his skin stretched over a frame that was the epitome of masculine perfection.

No matter how many times you had seen him like this, it never failed to take your breath away. He was all hard lines and powerful muscles, his presence dominating the room in a way that made you feel both safe and utterly desired. Why would you ever want anyone else when this man was right here?

Hugh’s eyes roamed over your body, drinking in every curve, every inch of exposed skin. There was a possessiveness in his gaze, an intensity that made your pulse race. He climbed onto the bed, his hands finding your body as he began to explore you with his lips. He started at your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin as he kissed his way down to your collarbone. He took his time, savouring each kiss, each caress, as if he wanted to memorize the taste and feel of you.

When his lips reached your thighs, he paused, lifting his gaze to meet yours. The look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory, and it sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and then he bit down, just hard enough to leave a mark. You gasped at the sensation, your body tensing in response as a wave of heat pooled in your core.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he ran his tongue over the mark he had just made. “This is all mine, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice a low, possessive growl.

A whimper escaped your lips as you nodded, your voice trembling with need. “Yes, it’s all yours.”

A satisfied smirk curled his lips, and he didn’t waste another moment. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he lined himself up with your entrance. He paused for a moment, just long enough to let the anticipation build, before slowly pushing inside. The sensation of him filling you was indescribable, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made your breath catch in your throat.

He moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm at first, each thrust deep and measured, as if he wanted to savour every moment of being inside you. The way he moved, the way he filled you, it was as if he was made for you, fitting perfectly into every curve, every inch of you. Your body responded to his in kind, your hips rising to meet his as you moaned softly, lost in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Hugh’s hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer with each thrust as he set a steady pace. His mouth found yours again, kissing you with a passion that left you breathless. The kiss was deep, his tongue exploring your mouth in time with his movements, and it only served to heighten the pleasure coursing through your body. The connection between you was electric, a tangible bond that made every touch, every kiss, feel like fire on your skin.

As the intensity grew, he shifted slightly, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder to angle himself even deeper inside you. The new position made you gasp, your nails digging into his strong, muscular arm as the pleasure became almost unbearable. He watched your reaction with a mix of satisfaction and desire, clearly enjoying the way he was making you feel.

“Look at me, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Look at me while I make you feel good.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was nearly too much to bear, but it made your heart race even faster. His thrusts grew more urgent, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The pressure was building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with every movement, until you were teetering on the edge of release.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his hand moved to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The sensation was intoxicating, the mixture of dominance and desire sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

“Cum on my dick, babygirl. Now,” he growled, his voice thick with authority and desire.

It was as if your body responded to his command on instinct. Your orgasm crashed over you with a force that left you trembling, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure rippled through you. You cried out, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it, but Hugh quickly shushed you, his grip on your throat tightening slightly.

“Quiet, baby,” he murmured, his voice still rough with desire. “There are people here.”

But before you could fully recover from the intensity of your orgasm, he moved again, flipping you over and pulling you on top of him. His strength was evident as he guided you effortlessly, positioning you so that you were straddling him. “Ride me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

Your legs were shaky, still trembling from the powerful orgasm, but he was there to support you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you lowered yourself onto him once again. The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, but he held you steady, his strong arms lifting you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

As you rode him, he kept his hands on your thighs, his grip firm and possessive. The pleasure built again quickly, the intensity of the position driving you both closer to the edge. You could feel him tensing beneath you, his muscles tightening as he neared his own release.

Just as you were about to cum again, he gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust up into you with a powerful, final movement. “Fuck, I love you,” he groaned, the words spilling out in a raw, primal cry as he came deep inside you.

The confession sent you over the edge once more, your body shuddering as another powerful orgasm ripped through you. You collapsed against him, breathless and spent, as the reality of his words sunk in. He loved you.

As the intensity of the moment slowly faded, you both lay there, breathing heavily, your bodies still tangled together. The reality of what had just happened, Hugh's confession of love, the intensity of your connection, began to sink in, and you found yourself overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, the rhythmic thud steadying you as you processed everything.

Hugh’s arms remained wrapped around you, his hold strong yet gentle, as if he was afraid to let you go. He hadn’t said anything since his declaration, and you could feel the tension in the air. There was a vulnerability in the way he held you, as if he was waiting for your response, unsure of what you might say.

You lifted your head slightly, looking up at him. His eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a mix of worry and hope, emotions that mirrored your own. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he murmured softly, his voice still a little rough from the intensity of the moment. “It just… slipped out.”

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and it tugged at your heart. Hugh wasn’t the type to open up easily to you, to let his guard down, and the fact that he had done so now, meant more than words could express. But you also knew that he was scared, scared of what loving you might mean, of the risks it entailed, of the future that could be so uncertain.

“Did you mean it?” you asked quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Hugh hesitated for a moment before nodding, his gaze unwavering. “Yes,” he admitted. “I meant every word. I love you… but I didn’t want to say it like that. Not in the middle of—” He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to express himself.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for this man who had so completely captured your heart. “I love you too, Hugh,” you said, your voice filled with sincerity. “And I don’t care if it slipped out in the middle of… all that. I’m just glad you said it.”

His expression softened at your words, the tension in his body easing slightly. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal the promise between you.

“I’ve been trying to fight it,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been telling myself that you deserve someone younger, someone who can give you a future… but I can’t fight how I feel anymore. I want to be with you, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his confession, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. All the doubts and fears you had been harboring seemed to melt away, leaving only the certainty that you wanted to be with him too, no matter what challenges might lie ahead.

“Hugh, I don’t care about any of that,” you said, your voice firm despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm you. “I love you, and that’s all that matters to me. We’ll figure everything else out together.”

His eyes searched yours, as if looking for any sign of doubt, but all he found was your unwavering commitment. A slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he pulled you closer, holding you tightly against him as if he never wanted to let you go.

For a long while, the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s embrace. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt deeper and more meaningful than ever before.

Eventually, Hugh broke the silence, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I want to do this right,” he said softly. “I want to take you out, treat you like you deserve. I want us to build something real, something lasting.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “I’d like that,” you replied, your voice equally soft. “But right now, I just want to stay here with you.”

Hugh chuckled, the sound deep and soothing. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his arms tightening around you. “We have all the time in the world.”

And with that, the two of you drifted into a peaceful, contented silence, the future ahead of you no longer filled with uncertainty but with the promise of a love that was as deep and enduring as anything either of you had ever known.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25 @getmeoutofhell

[jevaisjeviens]

Headcanons Ryan Howard - Ryan x Reader/Leitor

A primeira vista

Ele provavelmente te avistou na fila da cafeteria antes do trabalho e te achou bonita, mas não sabia que te veria novamente;

Um sorriso fofo relampejou pelo rosto dele ao te ver entrando pela recepção da Dunder Mifflin. Você, afinal, iria ser colega de trabalho dele mesmo;

Ryan se oferece para te mostrar o anexo onde você vai começar a trabalhar e pergunta se você não precisa de alguma coisa, como uma caneca ou um grampeador. Ele se embola um pouco nessa parte porque está bastante tímido em falar com você.

Após alguns dias de trabalho

Ryan tem te enviado e-mails constantemente para falar sobre tudo ou nada;

Ele frequentemente te envia um link do youtube com alguma música que ele está ouvindo muito, e fica feliz em saber que pode compartilhar seu gosto musical com você;

Vocês dividem os fones na sala de descanso ouvindo Radiohead e ele deixa que você controle o que vão ouvir a seguir;

Quando está tendo reunião, ele sempre encosta a cabeça na sua para "descansar os olhos" da falação de Michael;

Ele te encara para tentar "ler os seus pensamentos" e entender o que você está achando. Vocês são bastante expressivos um com o outro.

"A gente deveria jantar juntos um dia desses, você não acha?";

Ansioso para saber se você aceita sair com ele.

Ryan com ciúmes

Ele vai te observar de longe para tentar entender porquê você anda ficando tão próxima do Jim Halpert;

"O que ele tem que eu não tenho?";

Ryan fica ranzinza quando você vai falar com ele e acaba sendo grosseiro sem querer, mas em seguida pede desculpas e diz que só está estressado com o trabalho;

Ele nunca vai te dizer que está com ciúmes, mas vai ficar tentando chamar a sua atenção no meio das conversas em grupo;

Vai tratar Jim Halpert mal porque secretamente acha que você pertence a ele;

Ele tenta te devolver ficando próximo de Kelly, mas internamente ele sente que está errando com você.

Você com ciúmes

"Ela? Ela não significa nada pra mim. Eu gosto é de você, gatinha";

Ele vai sorrir de uma maneira sarcástica ao perceber que você está com ciúmes dele, e vai alimentar um pouco o próprio ego com isso;

Ele gosta que você sinta ciúme dele, mas vai procurar se afastar de quem te deixa insegura porque não quer te fazer mal;

"Você quer que eu bloqueie ela? Você vai bloquear o Jim também?"

Primeiro encontro

"Você... Você está muito bonita com essa roupa";

Ele pede para você sugerir o que ele deve comer do cardápio;

Vai conversar sobre bandas e banalidades durante o jantar;

Pergunta se você gostaria de assistir um filme após, porque ele tem sugestões muito boas;

Ele quer dividir uma sobremesa com você, porque não aguenta comer muito doce;

"Você vai achar estranho se eu disser que tomaria uma xícara de café agora mesmo?";

Ele é do tipo que divide a conta, mas antes se oferece para pagar inteira porque quer impressionar você, embora esteja secretamente torcendo para que você escolha dividir;

Você se impressiona com o cheiro de novo e limpo que o carro dele tem. É organizado para um homem;

Enquanto ele dirige até o próprio apartamento, vocês estão ouvindo Radiohead e cantarolando baixinho, sem muito volume, para que possam apreciar a companhia um do outro.

O apartamento de Ryan

Há alguma desorganização aqui e ali, mas num geral, é um apê limpo;

Todas as roupas que ele experimentou antes do encontro estão jogadas em cima da cama dando a entender que ele pensou bastante no que vestir;

"O que você gosta de assistir? Eu tenho algumas coisas em mente... Você já assistiu Donnie Darko?"

"Se quiser, nós podemos jogar videogame. Ou só ficar de bobeira aqui... O que você prefere fazer?"

Ele fica ansioso porque quer que você esteja se divertindo, mas relaxa toda vez que te ouve rir;

"Eu vou ser sincero. Você é tão linda que eu não consigo parar de pensar em te beijar";

Quando vocês se beijam, você sente que as mãos dele estão tremendo ao encostar na sua cintura, por mais confiante que ele pareça normalmente;

Ele é do tipo que dá selinhos após o beijo;

Ele também é do tipo que sorri após o beijo;

Ele te abraça e pergunta se você gostaria de dormir com ele por hoje.

[rynwritesreid]

I am obsessed w Ryan Gosling wearing a necklace with his wife’s initials on it to the Barbie Premiere!!!! Can we see Spencer doing the same thing, maybe to the office or a team dinner ? 😍

A/N: this is such a cute idea, and if I am being honest this is defo something early to mid season Spencer would have done. Thank you for the request:)

Summary: it’s basically as requested. I have added in some detail about other women flirting with him and that’s why he decides to wear it, but he does still wear it to the office.

Content: fluff. Fem!reader. Other people flirt with Spencer, but he doesn’t reciprocate.

Masterlist| requests are open| navigation

Spencer was aware he got attention from other women; he knew he was attractive. He never flirted back, or really gave anyone else the time of day and he was very open with the fact he was in a very committed relationship with you. You were also not prone to jealousy, you didn’t really like other people trying to flirt with Spencer, but you understood he was an attractive and very intelligent man. 

Spencer though, he had become to hate it. He didn’t understand why people didn’t care he loved you, that he was in a relationship with you, and only wanted you. He, being the ever-intelligent man he is, had come up with a solution.

“Hey, I have something to show you.” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a medium sized box. “Before you get too excited, this isn’t a ring. It’s a necklace with your initials on it.” 

“Are you going to wear that?” you asked with a smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest as you looked at the delicate necklace in Spencer's hand. The silver chain glinted under the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the window, and the initials intertwined beautifully, a testament to your bond.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I want everyone to know who my heart belongs too.” 

And with a tender smile, Spencer carefully fastened the necklace around his neck, the cool metal resting against his warm skin. As it settled into place, he stood up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and sure.

"I love you," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I want the whole world to know that you're mine."

*

The next day, Spencer turned up to work wearing the necklace. JJ was the first to notice, her eyes scanning the necklace, wondering why he had suddenly started wearing jewellery.

"What's that, Spence?" JJ asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Spencer smiled, his eyes lighting up as he adjusted the necklace instinctively.

"It's for Y/N," he replied proudly, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of determination. "I want everyone to know that she's the one I love."

JJ's gaze softened as she took in his words, understanding the significance of the gesture. She nodded approvingly, a small smile playing on her lips.

"That's sweet, Spencer," JJ said, her tone genuine. "I'm happy for you both."

Derek had overheard what JJ had said to Spencer, and while he also did think it was cute and he would never tell a man that wearing any jewellery wasn’t masculine, he still wanted to tease Spencer a little. 

"Hey Pretty Boy, since when did you become a fashion icon?" Derek teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sauntered over to Spencer's desk. Spencer rolled his eyes good-naturedly, used to Derek's playful banter.

“Oh, you think I’m a fashion icon because this, Derek?” Spencer grinned, a playful glint in his eye as he adjusted the necklace once more. "Well, let's just say I'm setting a new trend."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, Reid, if you say so. Just don't let Garcia catch you. She might think you're stealing her accessory game."

Spencer laughed at the thought of Garcia's reaction, imagining her excitement at seeing him embrace a new fashion statement. It felt good to have his friends' support and light-hearted teasing about his gesture towards you.

No one else seemed to care, Garcia had done a squeal of excitement when she saw the necklace and realised the initials were yours. But other than that, no one seemed to fuss over it.

*

Though he had noticed that he friends and colleagues didn’t seem to care about his necklace anymore, he had noticed how other women would interact with him. They seemed to glare at the two initials dangling around his neck and back off.

Spencer found himself almost amused by the reaction of the women who used to flirt with him. Their glares held a mix of disappointment and frustration, as if his simple act of wearing a necklace had somehow dashed their hopes. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their reactions, knowing that he was making it clear to everyone where his heart truly belonged.

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[steddielations]

Part two of this au with actor Steve walking rockstar Eddie on stage, based on the reply from @ghostyneth "Imagine them having a moment like Andrew Garfield and Ryan Reynolds”

It's been a month and the press is still eating up that moment when they walked arm in arm on stage together. Both Steve and Eddie's management think it's good for them to play it up, hang out publicly and be seen as friends, but they genuinely are friends now.

They've hung out a few times since the Grammys. Eddie invited Steve to his show at the Garden and they spent a lot of time backstage, just talking. Their music taste converges at a point. Also, Eddie was a theater kid, of course, the theatrical bastard. The weird gritty roles Steve takes sometimes outside his big box office hits have led him down some rabbit holes. So he likes freaky niche movies that only someone like Eddie would've ever heard of. They never run out of things to talk about.

Steve took Eddie to his movie premiere. They ditched the after party and the press to cruise around with the top down on Steve's old convertible, Eddie standing up blasting Metallica and headbanging along. They tease each other, call each other rockstar and movie star but not in that shallow way that Steve hates. Eddie's just himself, a wildcard, and Steve loves it.

So, when the Golden Globes come around and Steve's nominated, of course he wants Eddie there.

He wasn't expecting to win so when his name is announced, the table erupts into congratulations and he kisses Robin on the cheek first, then goes all around kissing and hugging his friends. Then the circle comes to Eddie, so naturally, they both laugh and throw their arms open, then grab each other’s faces and lean into a big smacking kiss.

The audience is cheering and laughing like crazy, and it was mostly a joke, but the way Eddie strokes his cheek when they pull back and says, "Congratulations, movie star” feels like it was just for Steve, not for any of the cameras or the crowd watching them. Steve can't stop looking at Eddie during his acceptance speech.

[the-purest-wolf]

[greenandsorrow]

Ryan Gosling masterlist

Ken

Oneshots

Ken x salon!Barbie/ sfw (🦋)

Multi chap

"Boytoy" - Ken x fem!human!reader/ smut

Officer K

Oneshots

Like a real girl... - K x Joi/ smut SOON

Multi chap

After Dark - K x fem!human!reader/ nsfw

Others

Oneshots

The thunderstorm. - Sierra Six x implied!fem!reader/ sfw SOON

"You should learn to knock first..." - Colt Seavers x curvy!fem!reader/ smut SOON

general masterlist

how to support me: click here

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

I'm watching too much stuff. And things are not slowing down with all the things coming in September. So I'm gonna try and keep this short. As much as that's possible given the amount of shows.

QL - Currently Watching

🇹🇭 4 Minutes [6/8] - Finally some answers. I haven't read all the theories floating around about this last episode and what it means, but I'm firmly on the side of, there is another alternative timeline, probably from when Tyme is dying at the start of the show, and also very much in agreement with everything @lurkingshan wrote here that these are just imagined do-overs and nothing will actually change in the real world. Which would be my preferred way.

🇹🇭 Addicted Heroin [2/10] - Haven't watched this weeks episode yet. My review for the first two is here.

🇹🇼 First Note of Love [4/12] - I like them a lot. And I like the pacing of this. I love the intro song. But with a second couple being introduced I think I'm gonna get frustrated having to wait a week for a 20 minute episode. I felt that way a lot during Kiseki.

🇯🇵 I Hear the Sunspot [10/12] - I am annoyed.

🇹🇭 I Saw You In My Dream [7/12] - May the boyfriend era commence. I am enjoying this one. I'm guessing we still have a bit of angst coming and I'm hoping for a good explanation for the dreams.

🇯🇵 Mitsuya Sensei no Keikakutekina Ezuke [6/7] - Just such an incredible show. This week brought the pain and I'm still unwell. As if Frito getting sick wasn't heart breaking enough, that ending left me in tears. I cannot believe we only have one episode left. I am not ready to say goodbye to the three of them.

🇹🇭 Monster Next Door [6/12] - My favourite thing about this is definitely Big. His presence on screen is great. But I'm not fully connecting yet for some reason.

🇹🇭 Peaceful Property [1/10] - It's a lot of fun. Yeah, I know it's not a bl. But it's bl adjacent so it goes here. Also in my head it's gonna be a bl no matter what. Possibly even with a gl side couple. The mind is a powerful thing.

🇯🇵Sugar Dog Life [4/10] - I love Isumi. I really liked that they didn't drag the girl storyline and it served it's purpose. Isumi is now very much aware of it's feelings. I'm looking forward to the date episode.

🇯🇵 Takara No Vidro [9/11] - Takara, my love. This boy has my whole heart. I can't believe I'll have to say goodbye to then tomorrow. I'm bracing for part pain, part happy. Please Japan don't let me down.

🇹🇭 The Loyal Pin [1/16] - I'm waiting to binge.

🇹🇼 The On1y One [4/10] - This show will hurt and I will love every second of it. I really like the look of this show and how we get those little insights into Jiang at the end of the episode. The actors are doing great and I specially love Benjamin Tsang facial expressions. I'm curious to see these two together and how their dynamic will work considering their circumstances. Also, always happy to see the revolving door of cameos Taiwan always grace us with.

🇯🇵Twilight Out of Focus - It's so beautiful. I'm enjoying that we get different couples even if sometimes it feels like we could have more time with them. I like Rei/Shion a lot, but I do miss Mao and Hisashi. 🇹🇭 The Trainee [10/12] - Just to get it out if the way, the Bamhee/Judy storyline was definitely the right call and @lurkingshan was right all along. Also the way the office came together was delightful and it's great to see Pah getting everyone together and once again being the best friend ever. Now. THE OFFICE FLIRTING!!! I was losing my mind giggling like an idiot. I love them. It's pretty obvious at this point that it's mutual and of course Ryan will need to actually be told that, but I still think Jane will wait until the internship is over before confessing or starting anything official. I can't wait to watch all the interns reaction next week. I love it here.

QL - Finished

🇯🇵 Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko! - I'm disappointed in this one. It started off so strong but by the end it lost me. I love Hiroko but I feel like they betrayed the character. And that ending with the kiss in the office was ridiculous. Actually most of the end was weird in the way that it seemed to contradict what came before. I like that they finally got together but it didn't feel as good as it could've.

🇹🇭 Century of Love - Started of great and imo fell apart by the end. I don't think it was consistent all the way through and the mythology was all over the place. Daou did an amazing job though. Also Ju is one of the greatest female characters of the year.

🇯🇵 Cosmetic Playlover - Pretty show. Final thoughts here.

🇹🇭 Knock Knock, Boys! - Probably the biggest surprise of the year for me. It's great. I like the development of both couples. Even if near the end I got a tiny bit annoyed with Peak, I really liked the conclusion of it all. Latte is a great character and the very rare slut unjudged by the narrative.

🇹🇭🇨🇳 Meet You At the Blossom - Look it's great that we got a chinese bl, but this was not it for me. Let's hope this one helps get others made though.

🇹🇭Love Sea - It was fine. I enjoyed Mut but in general I just never connected to this show. And Muk annoyed me to no end. I was so happy to see Aya again and now I just wanna forget that she was ever in this and simply remember her as Yiwa.

🇹🇭 SunsetxVibes - I don't even have words. I don't know if it was my lack of attention or if it never actually made sense but I never really got what the mythology was all about apart from inspiring a truly horrendous looking necklace. I was slogging though this one and I guess the finale was fine.

🇹🇭 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans - The sides were great, their chemistry was on point. I really wanna see them again. The mains were my favourite thing about Pit Babe but I just didn't like them here.

🇹🇭 The Rebound - I just have to accept that MeenPing will always have bad scripts. They are pretty together but this was a mess.

Dropped

🇹🇭My Love Mix-Up!

Rose Watches OJBL

Pornographer: Spring Life | Playback | Continued Spring Life Finally finished the novelist. Final thoughts.

A LOT of stuff coming this month so if you haven't checked it out, here is the post with all announced upcoming qls for September with a couple of updates that I made today.

As usual my ask box is open. Have a wonderful week💜

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future In You | 2.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, enemies to lovers kinda thing, requited love but they’re idiots your honour, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy / birth complications

…

A little past 1am, legs stretched out ahead of you, draped across Bradley’s legs. Some old straight to TV movie playing, giggling like a couple of teenagers. Bradley loudly voices his complaint as he picks up a m&m that had been thrown at his forehead.

He’s in just a pair of shorts, his hair dry now and his curls a little shorter than normal. Navy regulations. You kind of miss the length that he used to have on the back and sides, but this look suits him too.

“I’m just saying, you’re the one who fucked my roommate.” You shrug, mock-nonchalantly, and pretend to focus back on the movie in front of you. It’s some dumb story of a small town cowboy.

In the mood for dramatics tonight, Bradley throws his head back and groans.

“Before I even met you!” He chides, sitting forwards and snatching the candy from you before you have opportunity to turn any more of them into projectiles.

“Then you texted her after you’d already knocked me up.” You remind him, playfully calm.

“Ah, ah — She texted me, it’s not like I would’ve fucked her again — and let’s not forget that you had a whole boyfriend until you were in your second trimester.” Bradley points out.

“And stop saying knocked up. Makes me feel weird.” Grumbling like a discontented teenager, Bradley nudges your leg with his so that you have to look at his face and see his little frown.

All of that seems so far away now. Ryan. Your roommates, who you’ll probably never see again. Christmas with your family. You’ve barely even thought about it all since you got here.

“I’m sorry, Bradley — how should I be phrasing it?” You tease.

His lips tug at the corners, threatening to disrupt his dramatic frown and disarm his little act. A small shrug of those broad, tanned shoulders.

“All those couples at the parenting class keep saying ‘when we found out we were expecting’. That works.”

“Mm, but when I found out I was expecting I cried for three days and when you found out you implied that I was a whore and offered me money. Our story doesn’t really sound like theirs’.” You remind him. He presses his lips together in a line. That feels so far away now too.

He remembers the anger he felt towards you back then, which is a complicated thing in itself. He remembers why, and how — and everything about that first week, actually. He remembers being so furious at you for making that choice without him. A complete stranger, complicating his future when he had just stepped out of his complicated past.

The anger still makes sense to him. He doesn’t feel it anymore, he isn’t proud of the way he acted, but he can look back now and know that it was all just fear.

Going from being a scared little boy and looking after a sick mother, to being an adult and having nothing to care for but himself, to then meeting you. It hadn’t felt fair to have that all stripped away before he had started it.

But now, when he thinks of this living room being empty, or that small room being an office instead of a nursery, it makes this all seem so much more bleak.

The movie credits roll, leaving you even more confused about what the plot was supposed to be. Bradley sits up and pushes himself onto his knees, then parts your legs for him to dip between. You’re sighing softly now, contented as he presses his lips to yours.

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” He mumbles against your mouth, making you chuckle softly against him. “And I’m glad that I knocked you up, for the record.”

Another soft chuckle. He presses his lips warmly to your skin. Cheeks, jaw. A gentle tour of your face.

“You are?”

“Yeah, you’re hot pregnant,” Bradley beams at you, earning himself another little laugh. “And — y’know, I’m excited for the kid too.”

Looking up at him, your fingers circle over his smooth, freckled shoulders. A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before a commercial comes on and disturbs the bliss.

“Time to put the baby to bed, don’t you think?” He asks. You glance down at your swollen stomach and back up at your new boyfriend. Smiling at him, you give a defiant shake of your head.

“We aren’t tired.” You decide.

A soft groan and he cups your belly in his hands, feeling soft fluttering kicks to unfortunately support your claims. Smile growing into an embarrassingly amused beam, you watch Bradley as he pushes your shirt up and peppers kisses across your stomach.

“Tell him to give his old man a break, some of us have to be up in a couple hours,” Bradley murmurs into your skin, earning himself an applause of his new favourite sound. He looks up grinning at your laughter. “What?”

“You, being somebody’s old man,” A quick scrunch of your nose and a shake of your head, laughter still bubbling through you. “Weird to think about.”

His cheeks redden like the tops of his ears, then he grins. Sitting back on his heels, his hands slide along your stomach to rest at the very bottom. Again, he feels a soft little kick against his palm.

“Y’know, I think he’s nocturnal. I barely felt him this morning and now he’s wide awake.” You explain.

Another shrug, smiling as he leans down and kisses your stomach once more. “Wanted to stay up and watch a movie with his folks.” Bradley muses, making you smile. Absentmindedly, you card your fingers through his fluffy, air-dried curls. His lips press warmly to the underside of your belly, “No harm in that.”

Fingers trailing from his auburn curls, down over the tanned muscles in his shoulders as he peppers kisses across your stomach.

“He’s got you wrapped around his finger already. Old man.” You tease, nudging at his leg with your foot. He chuckles softly, cool breath tickling your skin. Another kiss, then he looks up at you.

“Me? — Mama’s the one letting him stay up late.” Bradley prods, sitting up and bringing his mouth to yours once more. The kiss is slow, lazy, his hand cupping your hip. When he leans over you now, your stomach always bumps into his middle. He’s going to miss it when it isn’t there anymore.

Turning his head, he presses his face into your neck and nips softly at your skin. You hum, keening towards the feeling. It becomes growingly tender, lips replacing teeth, tongue soothing over the warm spots left behind.

Finally, he sits back up and kisses your lips chastely. “Will you come to bed with me?”

“You can go ahead, I won’t wake you up.” You promise.

“I know, but I like falling asleep with you.” He squeezes softly at your hips, remembering to be gentle with your sore joints these days. He sits forwards and kisses your mouth again, then again after that. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he isn’t going to stop until you agree.

Pushing against his bare chest, he sits back on his heels and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Fine…” You huff, extending your arms for him. Slipping his hands into yours, he’s on his feat with an annoying level of ease that you can no longer manage. He tugs you up with him.

“I’ll lock up.” Ducking around you and kissing your neck, he leaves you with a gentle pat on the ass and then moves to make sure all of the doors and windows are locked and that the lights are off. You pad along the hallway to your shared bedroom and peel your shirt over your head.

Over the past month, you seem to have really popped. The kid is really making himself known in there. Enough so, that you’re well into the stage now of wearing exclusively maternity clothes or stretching out Bradley’s old gym clothes. Tonight, given the lingering heat, you opt for an old basketball shirt that Bradley hasn’t fit into since high school. Before he grew a foot and lost eighty pounds in his junior year.

It’s not huge on you at this stage of your pregnancy, but gives you the reprieve of a waistband pressing into your stomach.

Bradley’s chest hits your back before you even feel him approaching, turning his face into the crook of your neck, almost knocking you over with his weight.

His hands skim under the shirt and up over your stomach, making an all-too-familiar beeline for your breasts. He groans softly into your skin, growing half-hard against your back.

“Mm-mm,” You’re smiling and shaking your head at him all at once. “You need to go to bed, remember?”

“Fuck,” He breathes out, eyes closed, soft skin under his palms. If he pressed any harder into your back, he would knock you onto your front. “I do.”

Your palm slips between the two of you, reaching back to cup him over his shorts, stroking just loosely over the length of his hardening cock.

“Would be pretty difficult to sleep with that, though.”

“You’re such a tease.” He mumbles into your neck, kneading softly at your breasts. He rolls his hips forwards slightly, using your hand for friction on his increasingly hard cock.

“Are you flying tomorrow?” Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder, his lips sucking softly at the curve of your neck. His realization courses through him like relief, you can practically feel it.

His head shakes quickly. “In a classroom all day.”

Your palm squeezes softly around the tent in his shorts, a quiet hum, mock consideration, leaving your lips. His hands push at the shirt, slowly dragging it up your middle and tugging it over your head.

His eyes feel heavy on you, hands trailing featherlight along your sides. Bradley reached out slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he takes hold of the band in your hair. He’s especially gentle as he takes it down and turns his face towards your hair.

Illuminated by the soft light of the bedside table, Bradley’s becoming increasingly gentle with you — each time that you’ve slept with him recently, you can feel that he’s being more careful than he would normally be. He knows that you’re sore and more tired than you would normally be, but he never once declines the opportunity to have you.

Today is no exception as he turns you towards him, palms skimming along your back, squeezing at your ass as he holds you against him. Laying you down slowly on your shared bed, he notices your lips quirk softly as he covers your body with his.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You give a small shake of your head and lift to kiss him, still smiling when you pull back. He squints at you, studying the amusement on your features. It just makes you want to smile, is all. Him being so wordlessly soft; knowingly gentle. It doesn’t take a conversation or a warning. He knows your limits.

He knows you so well these days. The kind of shampoo or deodorant to pick up. Exactly which spots to press his fingers harder into when he’s giving you a foot rub. Exactly how to make you scowl at him and melt into his arms moments later when he’s being annoying. Your chest heaves with a particularly deep breath.

Bradley’s lips are on your chest, his hands skimming along your thighs, kneading at the flesh.

“Tell me you want me.” It’s a pant, really, just breathless. He rocks himself against your core, sitting back on his knees and squeezing at your hips. He takes that plush, pink bottom lip between his teeth and just stares down at you with the prettiest mahogany coloured eyes you’ve ever seen.

Teasing at an almost smile, you bite the inside of your cheek to contain it. A soft shake of your head and he smiles back at you. You glance down, watching him palm over the tent in his shorts. Finally, you meet his gaze once more. “I don’t think your ego can handle being any bigger than it already is.”

“It can take a little more,” Bradley hums. He exhales, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he watches his ring and index fingers dip through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digits. “Tell me you want me.”

You do. So badly that it makes you hot. Makes your muscles go tense. Makes your chest tighten.

“I want you,” It’s an admission that you never would’ve given him months ago, weeks ago even. There’s a lot about you now isn’t the same as it was a few months ago. It’s right on the tip of your tongue. I love you. It’s insane — terrifying, actually. You swallow and stick to what you know, “I want you.”

It would slip so effortlessly off of your tongue. When he’s buried into you, breathing hard into your ear, your face buried into the curve of his neck and god — he still smells exactly like him, now mixed with your body wash that he’s adamant he doesn’t steal. So natural, just another breathless, meaningless exhale in the middle of sex.

“You feel so good,” Bradley groans out, his thick fingers sliding along the nape of your neck and up into your hair. He curls them into your roots and flexes his fist just softly. Just the right amount of tug, a gentle pull that has you moaning against his jugular. “Fuck, baby… you…”

He turns his head, lips grazing your jaw and working lazily along to your lips. When he gets there, finally, it feels like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. He kisses you slowly, his tongue in your mouth and his hand in your hair. In your shared bed.

The mattress is softer here and he never wakes up with a sore neck because of the shitty pillows. Sometimes he wakes up with a sore neck because of how his body is wound around yours, but he doesn’t mind that as much. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you slowly.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

A breath catches in your throat and you aren’t sure whether it’ll turn into a laugh or a cry. Ultimately, it settles into a soft moan, your breath tickling his earlobe and making him shiver. Then, it becomes a laugh. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at that grin on your face.

Stretching out his shoulders, he guides your thighs over the tops of his. He gives them a soft squeeze and slows down a little, giving a breathless nod. “I mean it. You’re so fucking perfect, just like this.”

He wets his lips with his tongue, eyes trailing ever so slowly along your body, rocking his hips forwards tenderly. Briefly, you think that he’s going to say it. It doesn’t happen. Just more expletives, shallow breaths, eager grunts. More kisses, his hands on your skin.

After, when you’re settled into his old basketball shirt, under your sheets, and he is wrapped around your body from behind, his big palm sprawled out over your stomach — you’re okay with it. The silent knowledge that he must be on the same page.

The next morning, he has to be up before the sun is even halfway risen. He’s growing proficient at doing it without waking you. Showering silently and dressing in the bathroom, laying his clothes out the night before. It always makes you stir when he slips back into the room and leaves you with a chaste kiss on the lips, and a soft peck at the top of your rounded stomach. Still, you’re okay with that too.

You squirm a little, laying back against that perpetually uncomfortable plastic-leather mix exam chair. The gel is a lot more uncomfortable when you’re still hot from the mid-day Florida heat than it had been on those snowy mornings back in Virginia. Still, it’s all routine by this point. The cold jelly on your stomach, comfy pants that can easily be pushed down a little, warm sweater to combat the always high air conditioning.

You’re missing the part of your routine that has always made you comfiest: Jake sitting outside in the waiting room. He’s states away, Bradley’s stuck in work, you’re all on your own. It’s just a routine check up — just to check if he’s breach. You’ve been telling yourself that all morning. It hasn’t stopped you from sitting on the carpeted floor of his nursery and staring at his crib, still in the box.

Your heart swells at the idea of meeting him. You’ve been picturing him a lot recently. Your nose, Bradley’s lips. Soft morning cuddles, sleepless nights, constant diaper changes — it’s easy enough to tell yourself that you’re ready, it’s just more of a complicated thing to be certain that you are. Even if you’re not ready, he’ll be here in a few short weeks. You need to remind Bradley to pick up screws for his crib.

The doctor’s brows knit together, she adjusts her glasses and wiggles the wand a little bit, then looks back to you. “Hm, have you been experiencing reduced movement at all, Miss Seresin?”

The question throws you. Blinking at her, chilled from the whir of the air conditioning, you shake your head. Your throat squeezes. “No, not at all. He was kicking a lot last night.”

Both of you look back to the screen. He’s moving now. Little legs just kicking softly in that familiar black and white hue. A quick glance across, you stare at your sweater on the chair where Bradley should be sitting. It’s too cold in here. You’re not sure if you’re allowed to move to get the sweater.

“Hm,” She nods her head slowly. Her face is calm enough, her tone doesn’t give you any clues. The thought that crosses your mind hits you like a speeding semi. Blunt force, speeding — out of left field. Six and a half months of no contact and all of a sudden, sitting alone in this exam room, too cold, you want your Mom.

It’s clear that you’re panicking, and the doctor continues with as much caution as she can. She speaks to you like she’s trying to soothe a crying child, but it isn’t patronising. Her neatly groomed brows raise at you, “Any fatigue, bleeding, stomach pains?”

“I’ve been tired, I guess.” You squeak. She softens, reaching out and placing her hand into yours. Your throat tightens. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s just looking a little bit smaller than we would have expected for this stage in the pregnancy,” Your heart sinks, and the side of the exam table suddenly feels especially empty without Bradley there. The doctor continues on as comfortingly as she can. “I’d just like to run a few tests while you’re here — just to make sure that we’re prepared to make the end of your pregnancy as safe and comfortable as possible.”

As she turns and leaves you trapped in that little grey room with the closed blinds, shutting out any semblance of sunlight, all that you can think about is the first appointment that Bradley ever came to with you. Everything going on back then and how badly you had wanted him to not even show up. How confusingly nice it had felt to have him holding your hand through it. Your head falls back against the exam chair and your eyes burn with tears.

You leave the office with a pamphlet on fetal growth restriction, potential causes and side-effects. It might not be that, she tells you, some babies are just smaller and that’s just fine. They just want to keep a close eye on you these last few weeks. Early delivery is a possibility.

You’re dialing the number out of pure instinct. Flowing tears, running to Mommy — there’s a natural link there. Some kind of hardwired impulse, probably. Chest heaving, blinking back searingly hot tears, you listen to it ring and ring. It’s just a Wednesday morning, maybe she’s at the office. It just keeps on ringing.

Bradley frowns as he listens to the busy dial tone, pulling back and checking his phone. You’d promised to call him when you got out of the appointment. He checks down at his watch. Maybe Jake got a couple of minutes to call you. He has to be back in class. He texts you that he’ll catch you at home and turns.

If his mind were clearer, he might have noticed the stare on him as he turned. The familiar blue eyes, blown wide open. Maverick pales at the sight of the boy at the end of the hallway. Familiar sandy brown curls, a brief look at Bradley’s face. The mustache he had been trying to grow when Mav saw him last has grown in now. Maverick swallows.

He hasn’t seen this kid in almost two years. Not a single phone call or text. He hadn’t even known where Bradley was living after he moved out of the house in Norfolk. And now he’s here, standing at the end of a hallway in a random Navy base that Mav wasn’t even supposed to be at this week. Dressed in his khakis, he’s a kind of familiar that makes Pete Mitchell’s stomach churn.

“Bradley?”

…

@chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @marvel-f1-and-more @heli991113 @pauv-0414 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm334 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @littlemissobsessedwitholdermen @sunflowerziva @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawseresinbabe @damrlovq @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutfordw