#settle back easy jim

[be4chywritez]

red red wine | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

the week leading up to Quinn proposing to you, and the chaos that follows him.

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

One Week Before

You stand in the kitchen of the lake house, absently scrolling through your phone while Jim and Ellen sit at the table, chatting over their morning coffee. Quinn is perched on a stool at the kitchen island, Jack and Luke beside him, all three listening in as you think out loud.

“I think I’m gonna get my nails done,” you say, mostly to yourself, glancing up from your screen. “I found this cute place nearby on Instagram. Might go check it out.”

Quinn freezes. Luke and Jack do the same, exchanging quick glances before all three of them force identical, strained smiles.

“Here?” Quinn asks, a little too casually.

You nod and turn your phone to show Ellen the pictures. “Yeah, thought it’d be nice to get a little pampered. Ellen, want to come with?”

For a split second, her eyes flick to Jim before she shakes her head with a warm—if slightly nervous—smile. “Oh, no, sweetheart. I think I’ll stay back, got a few things to tidy up around the house.”

You frown slightly, glancing between them. “I mean, I don’t have to go either. I could just hang—”

“NO!”

The entire Hughes family responds in unison, voices overlapping in a loud, comically panicked outburst. Even Jim, who’s been silent all morning, leans forward, wide-eyed like you just suggested setting the house on fire.

Quinn is the first to recover. He clears his throat and plasters on a quick, reassuring smile. “No, honey, you should definitely go. Treat yourself.” He waves a hand toward the door, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant. “Have a nice day out.”

Your eyes narrow. “Okay…?” You drag the word out, suspicious, but slide your phone into your bag anyway. Grabbing your keys, you head for the door, throwing one last curious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Luke lets out a long breath. “Close call.”

Jim shakes his head, grinning. “She almost caught on already. We need to be more careful, boys.”

Downtown is quiet, the main street lined with flower boxes and little local shops. Lakeside Nails sits nestled between a café and an old bookstore, its windows decorated with delicate white lettering.

A nail tech waves you over with a friendly smile. “Hi! You must be my one o’clock.”

“That’s me.” You settle into the chair as she sets up.

“I’m Maya. What are we doing today?”

You pull up a photo. “Something like this? Just a clean, neutral look.”

Maya nods approvingly. “Pretty! So, just a little solo pampering trip?”

“Sort of. I’m staying at the lake house with my boyfriend and his family. Thought I’d take a little break and explore.”

Maya hums, focusing on your nails. “How’d you two meet?”

You smile, thinking back. “Through mutual friends. He was quiet at first, but then he made me laugh when I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know… I just felt comfortable with him.”

“Those are the best ones,” she says with a grin. “Sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, warmth blooming in your chest. “He really is.”

When you walk back into the lake house, Quinn is stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He glances up as you come in, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he says, sitting up. “Let’s see the nails.”

You plop down beside him, holding out your hand. He takes it, running his thumb lightly over your fingers. “Looks good,” he says, approving.

“Glad you think so.” You lean into him as his arm wraps around you, the warmth of his touch settling you into an easy quiet.

The rest of the evening is simple—pasta and salad for dinner, laughter when Quinn drops a handful of cherry tomatoes and watches them roll across the counter. Later, you curl up under a blanket with an old movie on, his fingers absentmindedly running through your hair. The house is peaceful, filled with the soft flicker of the TV and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

You don’t notice the way he looks at you. The way his gaze lingers, like he’s memorizing everything. Like he’s counting down.

Five Days Before

You wake slowly, the warmth of morning light filtering through the curtains. Quinn’s arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, his breathing steady and close. He stirs, his nose brushing against the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

“Morning,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, rolling over to face him. His eyes are still half-closed, messy hair falling over his forehead. You trace your fingers along his cheek, feeling the scratch of stubble. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours before bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You don’t realize how he looks at you—like you might disappear if he blinks.

“Honey, we’re on breakfast duty,” you remind him.

Quinn groans, shoving his face into your collarbone, stubble tickling your skin. He mumbles something, voice muffled.

You laugh. “No, we can’t let your brothers do it. Unless you want the house to burn down.”

Another grunt, but this time, he shifts, reluctantly getting up. You follow, falling into your usual morning routine.

As you pull on a sweater, he watches from the bathroom mirror, hoping you don’t dig too far into his sock drawer.

Hoping you don’t find the velvet box.

You don’t, thanks to a the higher power, but it only puts more pressure on Quinn to pop the damn question.

Four Days Before 

The lake house hums with its usual morning energy—Jack and Luke bickering over who gets the last pancake, Ellen moving around the kitchen with effortless ease, and Jim sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper like he’s immune to the chaos around him.

Quinn, however, is focused on one thing.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching as you sit at the kitchen table, scrolling absently through your phone. Every few seconds, you look up to add something to the conversation, laughing as Luke launches a grape at Jack’s head. Quinn should be listening, should be jumping in with a comment of his own, but instead, his mind is caught on a single thought: How do I get her to buy the dress?

The dress—the one he wants to see you in when he finally asks the biggest question of his life. He saw it a few days ago when you were flipping through your phone, showing Ellen some boutique you wanted to check out. You hadn’t bought anything yet, just admired a few pieces before getting distracted by something else.

Now, with only four days to go, he needs to make sure you pick the one.

Quinn exhales through his nose and glances toward his brothers. Perfect.

Jack notices first, eyebrows furrowing as he watches Quinn silently glare at him. What? he mouths.

Quinn jerks his head toward the living room, signaling them to follow. Jack and Luke exchange a glance but don’t argue, trudging after him as he disappears down the hallway.

Once they’re out of earshot, Quinn turns to them, hands on his hips like he’s about to give them the most important assignment of their lives.

“Alright, I need you two to do something for me.”

Jack immediately groans. “Oh my god, what now?”

“It’s important,” Quinn says, leveling them with a look.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Like, life-or-death important? Or are we talking Quinn-important, which means it’s about the love of your life?”

Jack snorts. “Yeah, do we need to prepare a eulogy?”

Quinn ignores them. “I need you guys to get her to buy a dress.”

Both of them stare at him.

“A dress,” Jack repeats flatly. “You dragged us away from breakfast for that?”

“Not just any dress,” Quinn says, rubbing the back of his neck. He feels stupid saying it out loud, but if there’s anyone who can pull this off without making it suspicious, it’s these two. “She was looking at this one the other day. It’s perfect for when I—” He stops himself before finishing the sentence, clearing his throat.

Luke catches on first. His eyes widen slightly before he grins. “Ohhh. You mean the dress.”

Jack still looks lost. “What—Oh. Ohhh.”

Quinn nods.

“Okay, so you want us to, what? Trick her into buying it?” Jack asks, crossing his arms.

“Not trick her,” Quinn corrects. “Just… steer her in the right direction.”

Luke grins. “You want us to gaslight her into thinking she needs it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You basically did,” Jack says.

Quinn sighs. “Can you two just do it?”

Luke claps a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Q, we got this. She’ll be buying that dress by the end of the day.”

Jack cracks his knuckles. “Time to be annoying.”

“Just don’t make it obvious,” Quinn warns.

Luke grins. “No promises.”

–

You hadn’t really planned on buying anything today.

The town’s little boutique district is charming, with its cobblestone paths and flower boxes hanging from the windows, but you were mostly browsing—taking in the sights, enjoying the crisp summer air, and, apparently, getting bombarded with very strong opinions from Jack and Luke.

“I’m just saying,” Jack starts, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets, “you’ve been talking about wanting a nice dress for a while.”

“Have I?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Luke, walking on your other side, nods solemnly. “Oh yeah. All the time. Constantly.”

You snort. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”

Jack ignores you. “And look at this!” He gestures dramatically toward one of the boutique windows. “A whole store dedicated to dresses! What are the odds?”

“Crazy,” Luke deadpans.

You give them a suspicious look. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re great,” Jack says. “But you’d be even better if you had a new dress.”

Luke nods. “The best version of yourself, really.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Nothing,” Jack says quickly. “We just care about you. And your wardrobe.”

“Especially that one dress you liked the other day,” Luke adds casually. “That was a good one.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you even know about that?”

Jack elbows Luke. 

He gives you a pained smile, “intuition?” 

Luke sighs dramatically, turning toward you. “Look,, all I’m saying is that you should try it on. No pressure. No commitment. Just try it on and see how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees. “Worst case? You hate it, and we all move on with our lives. Best case? You look amazing, and you thank us forever.”

You roll your eyes but, against your better judgment, let them lead you inside. The boutique is small but elegant, with soft lighting and carefully arranged racks of clothing. A sales associate greets you warmly, and before you know it, Luke and Jack are pushing you toward the exact dress they’ve clearly been scheming about.

You sigh, running your fingers over the fabric. It is beautiful.

“Just try it,” Luke urges. “For science.”

“For science,” Jack echoes.

You huff a laugh. “Fine. But if I don’t like it, you both owe me coffee.”

“Deal,” they say in unison.

Ten minutes later, you step out of the dressing room, smoothing your hands over the fabric. The dress fits perfectly, hugging in all the right places, flowing just enough to feel effortless. You glance at your reflection in the boutique mirror, tilting your head slightly.

“Well?” Jack asks, leaning forward eagerly.

Luke grins. “Yup. That’s the one.”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You guys are the worst.”

“And yet, we just helped you find your new favorite dress,” Jack points out.

You sigh. “Fine. But you’re still buying me coffee.”

Luke claps his hands. “Worth it.”

Meanwhile, back at the lake house, Quinn gets a text.

Luke: Mission accomplished.

He exhales, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Three more days.

Three Days Before

The morning sun spills through the windows of the lake house, casting warm golden hues over the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you pour a cup of coffee, the scent of roasted beans filling the air. Ellen is at the stove flipping pancakes while Jim reads the newspaper at the table, occasionally sipping his coffee. Jack and Luke sit across from him, bickering over who gets the last piece of toast.

Quinn stands by the fridge, looking unusually tense as he scrolls through his phone. You don’t think much of it—he’s always been the quiet, deep-in-thought type—but there’s something about the way he keeps glancing at you that makes you pause.

"Morning," you say, leaning against the counter as you take a slow sip of coffee. "What's up?"

Quinn's head snaps up like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His fingers tighten around his phone, and for a second, he looks almost guilty.

"Uh—nothing. Just checking something." His voice is too quick, too casual, and you narrow your eyes.

Before you can push him further, Ellen calls over her shoulder, "Sweetheart, could you grab the syrup?"

You nod and step toward the pantry, but just as you do, Quinn leans closer to Ellen and whispers something.

You freeze mid-step.

It’s barely audible, just the faintest murmur of his voice, but you catch it. Ellen’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she quickly schools her expression into something neutral.

Jim, who’s been mostly uninvolved in the morning chaos, suddenly folds his newspaper with a snap and clears his throat. Jack and Luke immediately stop arguing and sit up straighter, the air shifting ever so slightly.

You narrow your eyes. "Okay, what was that?"

Quinn immediately shakes his head. "What was what?"

"The whispering. The weird glances. Why do you all look like you just got caught committing a crime?"

Jack lets out a bark of nervous laughter. "Pfft, what? No crime here."

Luke elbows him, and he winces. "We were just—uh, talking about, um—"

"The weather," Jim supplies, nodding sagely.

"The weather?" you repeat flatly.

"Yup," Quinn says, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it aggressively like that’ll somehow sell the lie.

You cross your arms, skeptical. "And what, exactly, about the weather required a top-secret family meeting?"

Ellen waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, just—just how lovely it's supposed to be this weekend! Perfect for, um, outdoor activities."

Jack nods. "Yeah, so perfect. Like, suspiciously perfect."

Luke elbows him again.

You squint at them, taking a slow sip of your coffee, watching as they all sit a little too still, looking a little too casual.

Something is definitely going on.

But before you can press further, Quinn suddenly steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and presses a kiss to your temple.

"Hey, didn’t you want to go into town today?" His voice is soft, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hip.

You blink up at him. "I mean, yeah, but—"

"Perfect," he says quickly. "You should go. Take your time. Enjoy yourself."

Jack and Luke nod in unison. "Yes. Enjoy. Take hours if you need."

Your eyes dart between them. They are terrible liars. But you sigh, deciding to let it go—for now.

"Fine," you say slowly, grabbing your bag. "But if I find out you guys are hiding something from me—"

"You won’t!" they all chorus at once.

You stare for another long beat before shaking your head and heading for the door.

As soon as it closes behind you, Quinn lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.

Luke whistles. "That was way too close."

Jim chuckles. "You boys need to step up your game. She's sharp."

Quinn groans, rubbing his face. "I know. And we still have two more days of this."

Jack claps a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, bud. You're gonna need it.

Two Days Before 

The lake stretches out before you, calm and glassy under the moonlight. It’s late—too late to still be outside, but the warmth of summer lingers in the air, and neither of you wants to go in just yet.

You sit beside Quinn on the dock, your legs dangling over the edge, bare feet skimming the cool water. The night is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and the distant rustling of trees.

Quinn hasn’t said much in the last few minutes.

He sits close—so close that your shoulders press together, his warmth seeping into you. His hand is resting between you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you but is too lost in thought to do it.

You nudge him gently. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He exhales, a soft, slow sound. "Just thinking."

You tilt your head, watching him. His profile is illuminated by the glow of the moon, sharp angles softened by the night. His jaw flexes, and his fingers tighten slightly against the dock.

"About what?"

He hesitates, then turns to you. "The future."

Your chest tightens, a warmth blooming there. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice is quiet, thoughtful. "I was just thinking about... where we'll be, years from now." He swallows, his throat bobbing. "What it'll look like."

You smile, leaning into him. "And? What does it look like?"

He glances down at his hands. "Us," he says simply. "Still together. Maybe a house. Maybe a dog." His lips twitch. "You always talk about wanting a golden retriever."

Your heart stutters.

"You actually listen when I say that?"

His brow furrows. "Of course I do."

There’s something so earnest about the way he says it—so completely sure.

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers together. "I like that version of the future," you say softly.

Quinn looks at you then, his eyes dark and unreadable, something heavy sitting behind them. For a second, you think he’s about to say something—something big.

But instead, he squeezes your hand.

"Me too."

He presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, then rests his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes, breathing him in, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart.

Neither of you says anything else.

But Quinn’s already made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he finds the perfect spot.

And in two days, he asks you to be his forever.

One Day Before 

The lake stretches endlessly before you, a shimmering expanse of deep blue beneath the warmth of the afternoon sun. A gentle breeze tugs at your hair, and the rhythmic rocking of the boat lulls you into a peaceful state. The water is calm, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a passing jet ski or the soft lapping against the side of the boat.

You inhale deeply, letting the fresh air fill your lungs as you lean back against the cushioned seat. The warmth of the sun kisses your skin, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like time has slowed down.

Jim sits at the helm, hands steady on the wheel as he navigates through the open water. His expression is relaxed, a rare sight considering the chaos that usually follows whenever all three of his boys are together.

Ellen sits beside you, sunglasses perched on her nose, a soft smile on her lips as she watches the water shimmer.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” she muses, her voice light with contentment.

You nod, shifting slightly to soak in more of the sun. “Yeah, it really is.”

It’s not often that you get moments like this—just the three of you. Usually, Jack and Luke are wreaking havoc, Quinn is rolling his eyes fondly at their antics, and everything is a blur of chirps and laughter. But today is quiet. Peaceful.

You glance around the boat, taking in the emptiness where Quinn should be.

Your chest tightens slightly.

This morning, when you asked him if he was coming, he had been vague—mumbling something about needing to run an errand and promising he’d see you later. You hadn’t pushed, but now, with the afternoon stretching on without him, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Ellen asks gently, tilting her head toward you.

You blink, realizing you had been staring at the empty seat beside you. Forcing a smile, you nod. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Ellen hums knowingly. “Quinn will be back soon, don’t worry. He’s probably just making sure whatever he’s doing is absolutely perfect.”

Jim chuckles from the driver’s seat. “Sounds about right.”

You frown slightly, narrowing your eyes. “Do you guys know something I don’t?”

Ellen and Jim exchange a quick glance, but Ellen’s smile doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey,” she says, reaching over to pat your hand. “We always know something you don’t.”

You roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of warmth and comfort. You soak up every moment—the way the sun reflects off the water like scattered diamonds, the sound of Jim’s easy laughter, the way Ellen insists on reapplying sunscreen to your shoulders even though you swear you’re fine.

And for a little while, you let yourself forget the strange feeling in your chest.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, Quinn is on a mission.

Your absence is a weight he feels in his chest, but he knows this is worth it.

His boots crunch against the forest floor as he makes his way through the secluded clearing he stumbled upon earlier. The air smells like pine and fresh earth, the quiet only disturbed by the rustling of leaves in the wind.

It’s perfect. Tucked away from the main trails, surrounded by towering trees, with a small opening where the lake peeks through.

This is it.

Carefully, he unrolls the string of photos he printed last week, each one capturing a frozen moment in time—the two of you at your first hockey game together, laughing with noses pressed close; a blurry snapshot of you mid-laugh, taken when you weren’t looking; a quiet moment in bed, tangled in the sheets with sunlight painting your skin.

Every single one tells your story.

His hands shake slightly as he fastens them to the branches, adjusting them until they drape just right.

“Dude, this is insanely romantic,” Jack mutters behind him.

Quinn steps back, hands on his hips as he surveys the clearing. The photos sway gently in the breeze, catching the fading sunlight. Everything is almost perfect.

Except for Jack, who is standing in the middle of the setup like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“This is so weird,” Jack complains, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know why I have to be her.”

Quinn sighs, rubbing his temples. “Because I need to make sure everything looks right, and you’re the closest to her height.”

“That’s actually so offensive,” Jack deadpans. “I don’t even know how, but it is.”

Luke snorts from behind the camera. “Just shut up and stand there, man. You’re ruining the vision.”

Jack groans dramatically but doesn’t move. “You owe me for this, dude. Big time.”

Quinn ignores him, stepping closer to adjust the positioning. He takes a deep breath, trying to picture you standing there instead of his little brother, who is doing a horrible job of being still.

“This is where I’ll kneel,” Quinn murmurs, mostly to himself. He drops down, testing the angle, the feel of the moment. His heart races, imagining the way you’ll look—eyes wide, lips parted in surprise, the way your breath will hitch right before you say yes.

Jack stares down at him, unimpressed. “I feel like I should be flattered, but mostly I feel like an idiot.”

Quinn huffs, looking up at him. “Can you at least pretend to be in love with me?”

Jack stares blankly for a second before bursting out laughing. “Dude. Dude. I cannot take this seriously.” He turns to Luke, who’s adjusting the camera settings. “Are you getting this? The absolute desperation in his eyes?”

Luke barely glances up. “You’re making it worse.”

“I’m making this worse?” Jack gestures at the setup. “Quinn is professing his undying love to me right now, and I’M the problem?”

Quinn groans, running a hand over his face. “Just shut up and look moved or something.”

Jack schools his expression into something vaguely serious and stares dramatically into the distance. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says, voice overly soft. “We’ve been through so much together.”

Luke nearly drops the camera laughing. “Oh my god,” he wheezes.

Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate both of you.”

Jack smirks, but he does settle down a little, standing a bit more still as Quinn makes the final adjustments.

After a few minutes of adjusting the lighting and the placement of the photos, Luke finally lifts the camera. “Alright, let’s get a test shot.”

Jack sighs dramatically but stays put. Quinn watches as Luke moves around, snapping photos from different angles. He frowns slightly, tilting the camera to check the preview.

“It looks good,” Luke says slowly, adjusting the focus. “But I think we need—Jack, stop standing like that.”

Jack scoffs. “Like what?”

“Like a dude who is about to ask another dude to prom,” Luke deadpans. “You look so uncomfortable.”

Jack throws his arms out. “Because I am uncomfortable! I am literally standing in the middle of a fake proposal, playing the role of my brother’s girlfriend.”

Quinn shakes his head. “Fine. Just—stand normal.”

Jack exhales sharply but follows instructions, his posture finally settling into something less stiff.

Luke snaps a few more photos before nodding. “Okay, that’s it. That’s the shot.”

Quinn steps back, taking in the clearing one last time. The photos, the lighting, the atmosphere—it’s all exactly how he pictured it. His heart pounds as he exhales, the reality of it hitting him all at once.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, you will be standing here.

Tomorrow, you will be the one in front of him when he kneels.

And tomorrow, you will say yes.

Jack claps him on the back, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Alright, Romeo. Can we go now? I have literally never felt more single in my life.”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness behind it. “Yeah, we’re done.”

Luke stretches, shoving the camera back into his bag. “You better make this the best proposal of all time, bro. Because if we went through all of this for nothing—”

Quinn grins, confidence settling in his chest. “She’s gonna love it.”

Jack sighs dramatically. “You owe us.”

Quinn just laughs, already imagining how perfect tomorrow will be.

That night, you’re curled up in bed when Quinn finally slips into the room. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he slides beneath the covers, pulling you into his arms.

“You have fun today?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Mmm,” you hum, half-asleep. “Missed you.”

His chest tightens.

He buries his face in your hair, arms tightening around you. “Missed you too.”

You sigh softly, relaxing into him.

Quinn stays awake long after you drift off, heart thudding with anticipation.

One more night.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Proposal Day

The morning sun filters through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow over the lake house. The scent of fresh coffee lingers in the air as you lean against the counter, watching the Hughes family settle into their usual breakfast chaos.

Jack is the first to steal the last piece of toast off Luke’s plate, and Luke retaliates by flicking a grape at his forehead. Quinn sighs, stirring his coffee like he’s debating whether it’s worth intervening. Ellen is at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, while Jim nurses his coffee at the table, reading something on his phone.

Ellen turns toward you with a smile. “I was thinking,” she starts, “since everyone’s here, we should do a nice family dinner tonight.”

Luke perks up. “Ooh, like a fancy dinner? Do I have to wear a button-up?”

“Yes,” Ellen says firmly.

Jack groans dramatically. “Can I at least wear my nice hoodie?”

Jim barely looks up. “No.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you sip your coffee. “A dinner sounds nice.”

Ellen nods. “Good, because I already bought all the stuff.”

Quinn finally speaks, glancing at you. “You should wear that dress you got.”

You arch an eyebrow. “The one you definitely weren’t scheming to get me to buy?”

Jack and Luke both snicker, and Quinn glares at them before turning back to you, feigning innocence. “What? I just think you’d look really nice in it.”

Luke leans in conspiratorially. “You should do it. Mostly because if you don’t, Quinn will spend the entire dinner sulking and staring at you like a sad puppy.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Jack smirks. “Nope. That’s how we end up with emo Quinn, and nobody wants that.”

Quinn groans. “I hate all of you.”

Ellen hides a smile as she flips another pancake. “You love them,” she corrects.

Quinn sighs, shooting you a hopeful glance. “So, the dress?”

You shake your head, amused. “Fine. But if I do, Luke and Jack owe me dessert.”

Luke claps a hand over his heart. “Done.”

Jack nods. “Easiest deal of my life.”

Quinn smiles to himself, satisfied. One step closer.

Dinner starts out promising enough. The table is set, the food looks amazing, and the sunset paints the lake in warm hues. It should be perfect.

And then… things start to go sideways.

First, Luke—being Luke—tries to help bring the dishes to the table and nearly drops the salad bowl. In his panic to save it, he elbows Jack, who’s carrying a basket of rolls. The bread goes flying, one roll landing directly in Jim’s drink.

“Nice,” Jim mutters, plucking it out with a sigh.

Ellen shakes her head, clearly unimpressed but used to this kind of chaos. “Can we go one meal without something ending up on the floor?”

Jack, unfazed, shrugs. “Technically, it landed in Dad’s glass.”

You try to hold back a laugh as Quinn pulls out a chair for you, but the moment you sit, you realize something is… off. The seat wobbles, just enough to be noticeable, and before you can react, one of the legs gives way entirely.

“Shit—”

You barely manage to catch yourself before fully hitting the ground. Quinn moves fast, steadying you before you can completely fall, but the damage is done. Luke is doubled over laughing, and Jack is wheezing so hard he can’t breathe.

“I—” Jack tries, but he’s laughing too hard to finish. “I swear—we didn’t—touch—that chair—”

Quinn glares at them before looking at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, face burning as you straighten up. “Just my pride taking a hit.”

Ellen sighs. “That chair was wobbly this morning. I told you boys to fix it.”

Jack wipes a tear from his eye. “Well, now we know it was definitely broken.”

Dinner resumes, and for a few blessed minutes, everything is normal. The conversation flows, the food is delicious, and you almost forget about the earlier chaos.

Until Luke, in all his wisdom, decides he needs more steak sauce. He reaches across the table, miscalculating just how close his elbow is to your glass of wine.

The second the glass tips, it’s over.

Red wine splashes everywhere—your dress, the table, Quinn’s sleeve.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, pushing back from the table as the cold liquid soaks into the fabric.

Luke freezes. “Oh—oh, shit. Oh, no—”

Ellen is already up, grabbing napkins. “Luke.” Her voice is the kind of exasperated that only comes from years of dealing with sons who can’t sit still. “Seriously?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Luke looks at you with pure panic. “I—I can fix this—”

Jack leans back, shaking his head. “Man, you just ruined her dress.”

“I know!” Luke groans, looking like he genuinely feels terrible. “I’ll—uh—I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

Quinn, who’s been silent through all of this, takes one look at you and then turns to Luke with the calmest voice imaginable.

“Get up.”

Luke blinks. “What?”

“Get. Up.”

There’s a long pause before Luke, sensing the very real possibility of Quinn throwing him into the lake, slowly pushes his chair back and stands.

Quinn doesn’t hesitate—he grabs Luke’s napkin and dabs at your dress, his brows furrowed in frustration. “I told you not to sit next to her.”

Luke throws his hands up. “How is this my fault?!”

Ellen sighs again. “Alright, alright, it’s just a little wine.” She turns to you. “Honey, let’s go see if we can salvage your dress.”

You follow her inside, but despite her best efforts, the stain refuses to come out.

You sigh, looking at Ellen through the mirror. “Ellen, I think it’s unsalvageable.”

She looks up at you, guilt evident on her face. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s fine, really.”

When you return downstairs, Luke looks like a kicked puppy, eyes glued to the floor. Quinn scans your dress, his jaw tightening.

“Goddammit, Luke,” Quinn mutters.

You step beside him, nudging Luke lightly with your foot. “It’s fine, really,” you say softly.

Quinn exhales, rubbing his jaw before looking at you. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

You blink at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice quieter now, more certain. “Right now.”

You hesitate, then nod. “Okay.”

The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the lake. The sound of crickets hums in the background as you and Quinn walk in comfortable silence, his fingers laced through yours. The chaos of dinner fades into the background, replaced by the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your feet.

“You okay?” you ask softly, glancing up at him.

Quinn exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… today didn’t go exactly how I planned.”

You squeeze his hand. “You had a plan?”

His smile grows slightly. “Believe it or not, yeah. Kind of.”

You smirk. “Well, that was your first mistake.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Tell me about it.”

You keep walking, but the farther you go, the more familiar the path becomes. It’s only when the trees thin, revealing a quiet clearing, that you realize where he’s leading you. Your steps slow as you take it in.

Strung between the branches, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon and the fairy lights Quinn must have set up earlier, are dozens of photos—memories captured and preserved in time.

Your breath catches as you step forward, reaching out to gently touch one of them. It’s a picture from your first hockey game together, noses nearly pressed together as you grinned at the camera. Another of you mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. One from a lazy morning in bed, sunlight spilling across your tangled limbs.

Every single one tells your story.

You turn back to Quinn, your chest tight with emotion. “You did all this?”

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I—I wanted you to see what I see. Every time I look at you, it’s just… it’s all of this. Every moment, every memory, everything that makes us, us.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he continues, voice quiet but steady. “I had this whole idea in my head—this big, perfect moment. The dinner, the dress, the way tonight was supposed to go.” He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “And then Luke knocked wine all over you, and Jack wouldn’t stop chirping, and everything kind of fell apart.”

You smile, tilting your head. “Sounds about right.”

Quinn looks at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah. But then I realized… this is perfect.” He lets out a small, breathy laugh, almost like he’s realizing it in real time. “The chaos, the interruptions, the fact that nothing ever goes exactly how we plan it. That’s us. That’s our life.”

Your breath catches slightly.

He takes a deep breath, then lets go of one of your hands, reaching into his pocket. And suddenly, he’s kneeling before you, a small velvet box in his palm, slightly illuminated by the moonlight.

“I don’t need the perfect moment,” he says, looking up at you. “I just need you.”

Your heart pounds, your vision blurring as you try to take in everything at once—the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers tremble just slightly around the box, the way the entire world feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“Marry me?” he asks, voice soft but sure.

You let out a shaky breath, a laugh breaking through the tears already forming in your eyes. “Quinn, of course I’ll marry you.”

A breath of relief escapes him before he grins—grins in that rare, open way he only does when he’s truly happy. He stands quickly, slipping the ring onto your finger before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

You bury your face in his shoulder, laughing through your tears. “God, I love you.”

His grip tightens around you, his voice warm against your ear. “Love you more.”

By the time you and Quinn make it back, hand in hand, the Hughes family is waiting—Jack and Luke perched on the couch, Jim leaning against the counter, and Ellen practically bouncing in place.

Jack spots the ring first. “Oh my god—”

Ellen claps her hands together, her eyes shining. “You said yes?”

You hold up your hand, and the room erupts.

Jack groans dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. “I can’t believe this. Quinn won at life.”

Jim claps Quinn on the shoulder with a proud nod, and Ellen pulls you into a tight hug, murmuring how happy she is for you both.

Luke hangs back, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes darting toward you before dropping to the floor. His face is tight, like he’s been debating something in his head.

You don’t give him the chance to overthink it. Without a word, you step toward him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

Luke stiffens in surprise before slowly relaxing, exhaling a breath. “I—I really didn’t mean to ruin your dress,” he mumbles, voice small.

You smile against his shoulder. “I know, Luke. It’s just a dress.”

He hesitates before hugging you back, his grip a little tight, like he’s still worried about the whole thing. “I felt really bad.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “Well, you can make it up to me by giving a really good speech at the wedding.”

His eyes widen. “Wait—I can do a speech?”

Quinn sighs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I never said that.”

Luke smirks. “You didn’t have to.”

Jack groans. “Oh god, this is gonna be unbearable.”

Quinn shakes his head, pulling you back to his side. “I should’ve proposed in private,” he mutters under his breath.

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Nah. This is perfect.”

And as the Hughes family falls into their usual rhythm of chirps and laughter, as Quinn’s hand tightens around yours, you know that nothing—no chaos, no spilled wine, no wobbly chairs—could have made this moment any better.

beachy’s notes: hello babes please please, please send me fic requests

[literaryavenger]

Everybody pictures Bucky joining the team as a broody, sour and glaring machine, but what if he just... Isn't? Because I can honestly picture him as like Jim from The Office.

Like, after he recovers in Wakanda and they manage to stop Thanos before he can get all the stones because Thor went for the head, life settles into a routine as the Avengers work together to keep the peace on Earth (and the rest of the Universe in Thor and the Guardians of the Galaxy's case) and living at the Compound.

Slowly, an organization not unlike Shield starts growing again, but this time it's done the right way with Steve as the leader next to Fury and no Hydra or Red Room or purple alien grape with a nutsack chin plotting behind the scenes.

Of course, this means the Avengers have to train new cadets. Each member gets their own class to teach between missions until they're ready to graduate to agents and then the cicle starts all over again.

Bucky is mostly fine with this, the cadets are competent enough and respect him because they know his history, (also who wouldn't respect an Avenger that literally helped save the Universe?) but every once in a while he gets a cocky, insubordinate, defiant cadet that takes advantage of his easy-going nature. And he doesn't know how to handle it.

"I have to make an example out of him." Bucky mutters lowly to you as you both discreetly watch Cadet Johnson take a break from training with the other agents-in-training he convinced to relax instead of doing the exercise Bucky politely requested ordered they do.

"I could yell at him?" Bucky looks at you with a small frown.

"Can you yell?" You raise an eyebrow at him, mostly amused.

"Oh, I yell." Bucky insists. "You've heard me yell."

"I've heard you exclaim." You correct him after thinking about it for a moment. "Like that time you said, 'Hey, we parked over here!'"

"Well, that was Plums Day. There's no need to yell that day." He says like it's obvious as he turns back to look at the trainees. "I was just excited to find our car after leaving the farmer's market. Perfect end to a perfect day."

You almost want to laugh and coo at him at how cute and innocent he seems when he talks like that, but you simply kiss his cheek.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, Sarge." You pat his arm and make your way out of the training room, leaving an adorably pouty Bucky behind.

[fuctacles]

<< sixteen | 😺 | eighteen >>

Wayne, while being the best uncle he's ever had, was also the worst. And not because he’s the only one Eddie knows; he'd beat any uncle Ben or Sam in a landslide. 

(Actually, if you do count Uncle Sam, Wayne might not be the worst.)

"She's a sad lady, isn't she?" he asks out of nowhere during their drive to the hospital. "Still here while everyone she knows move away."

Eddie frowns at the yellow light in front of him. 

"You're the one who told me to talk to her," he points out. He slows to a break at the intersection, the light now red, and turns towards his uncle. "Is this a ploy to keep me in Hawkins? You want me to marry and settle down?" He raises his eyebrows. As if the same fantasy didn't run through his mind at least once a day since meeting Steph. 

"Hell naw." Wayne grins at him. "I want you to live a life of your own. I know you hate this place." 

"It hated me first," Eddie reminds him.

"It's not for a wild thing like you," he agrees with a nod. "Hawkins is for old farts like me. The thing is—Green."

Eddie quickly shifts back into gear before the cars behind him start honking. 

"Stephanie seems to think she's an old fart too," Wayne finishes his thought. 

"Yeah, I've noticed," Eddie grumbles. "And what do you want me to do? Steal her away into the big city?" he jokes. 

Wayne's answering silence grows heavy in the van.

"She's a grown woman, I'm not going to uproot her life," Eddie argues a point his uncle didn't make. It's not that he doesn't want to, more like he doesn't think he has the power to do it. Besides, they just got off together once, it's way too early to make plans like that. He has been daydreaming about them, yes, but he's painfully aware of the difference between fantasy and reality. 

"You know, Jim got really into gardening recently," Wayne says apropos of nothing. 

"Okay, go on…" Eddie nods slowly, patiently.

"He told me some plants have to be uprooted to grow properly. You know, when the pot is too small? Because the roots grow too, and they need space."

The van has finally reached the hospital, so Eddie waits until they're parked to turn towards his uncle. 

"Did you just use a plant metaphor on me?" he asks, baffled. 

"I simply shared some gardening wisdom from a friend," Wayne shrugs.

"Which you just though of."

"You're the one who used the word 'uprooting'," he fires back. 

Eddie pulls the key out of the ignition with a tired sigh.

"You know, I kind of miss the fishing metaphors. They were less convincing." 

Wayne raises his eyebrows. 

"This is the rudest thing you've said to me since you told me the trout was disgusting."

"It's a terrible, stinky fish and you know it!" Eddie protests as they exit the van. 

"How is Wayne's leg?" Steph asks later that day.

"Surprisingly well. The doctor said it healed better than expected and he'll probably be cleared for work the next week."

"I'm guessing he's happy to hear that?"

"Oh, yeah," Eddie snorts. He angles his head so Steph's scratches get where he wants them. "He's been walking up the walls for the past few days, and he hated all the movies the employee at video rental recommended to him. If he doesn't go back to work soon, he'll make it everyone's problem."

Steph hums thoughtfully.

"I get it. Don't you feel restless, too? Here in Hawkins, I mean."

"Huh?" Eddie blinks his eyes open. He hasn't realized when he even closed them. "The opposite, actually. I don't have to rush anywhere, there are no midterms; I can kick back and relax, forget the responsibilities and just be Wayne's favorite nephew again." He smiles. "It's like I'm putting my life on pause for a few days. And it's kind of terrifying how easy it is."

Steph remains silent, so he takes a cautious glance towards her. She's not looking at him or the television; her eyes are distant, focused on her thoughts. 

"Everything is slow and old here, isn't it?" she muses.

"I swear to all that's unholy, if it's another opening to remind me how 'ancient' you are..."

Steph rolls her eyes and dips down to shut him up with a kiss. Unfortunately, it works perfectly in her favor. There's probably no argument against him that she couldn't win. All she has to do is press her hand against Eddie's chest, pinning him to the couch, and he can be easily persuaded into anything. 

He kisses and licks back, trying to keep up with her, but with the last remains of a logical thought, grasps at her hand to slow her down. They separate with a wet smack, but don't move more than an inch away.

"Do you want—?"

"I'm taking you—"

They both smile and shuffle away to properly look at each other. 

"Ladies first," Eddie gestures with a nod of his head. 

"Do you want to stay the night?" she blurts out quickly, with little hesitance. 

His jaw drops open and his heart stops in his chest. 

"Like... on the couch?" he asks to clarify. The other option to good to be true.

Steph rolls her eyes, and it should be embarrassing how much he likes when she does it, even at his own expense. 

"In my bed, idiot. Just to sleep, of course."

"Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming." He pinches his arm, and Steph does too, much harder. He yelps, making Arwen look at him with distaste. "Hey!"

"Do you want to?" she presses. 

"Of course I do!" he bristles. "With you, I'd take celibacy vows," he says reverently, grabbing her hand in his. 

She raises her eyebrows, and then pointedly looks him up and down.

"With you, I'd rather not."

Eddie grins despite his blush.

"What did you want to say?" she asks, pulling him back from his salacious thoughts. 

It takes him a second to reel his thoughts back on track.

"Oh. I'm taking you on a date tomorrow." He takes a glance at the clock above the TV. "Yeah, tomorrow." 

"You're taking me?" She raises an eyebrow. 

At that, Eddie quickly slides off the couch and onto his knees, her hand still clasped between his palms.

"Oh, pardon me, princess. Would you do me the honor of going out on a date with me tomorrow?" he asks, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. 

Her eyes are wide and startled, and the first thing she can even manage out of her mouth is a laugh.

"You're such a dork," she murmurs. "Yeah, it's fine, I guess." She shrugs nonchalantly. 

"Fine?" Eddie bristles, frowning. "What do you mean, fine?"

"I mean yes, you can take me on a date," she says, straightening her back to give herself a more regal posture. "I'll allow it."

He grins, and proceeds to press kisses up the length of her arm, slowly crawling back up onto the couch. 

"Thank you for giving me this privilege, your majesty. A peasant like me, ha!" He throws his head back, briefly startling Steph into another laugh. "The town folk will not believe their eyes, a simple man like me, allowed by the side of a queen." Eddie presses a final kiss to her shoulder, and sits back. As Steph stares at him, he realizes his own outburst. 

"Too much?" he asks with a sheepish smile, fierce flush taking over his cheeks. 

"Just a little," Steph admits, pinching her fingers close together. Her face is tinted pink as well. "You know..." she trails off, falling against the back of the couch, their fingers still entwined. "I hated being called a king in high school, but... Queen sounds so much better." She lets her mouth curl into a small smile. 

 "Like something precious," Eddie catches on, leaning sideways so they can face each other. "Powerful yet feminine."

"Yeah." She nods absentmindedly. 

"How about princess?" he asks next. 

Guessing from how red Steph's face has gotten, she must have liked it. Eddie grins. 

"Well then, princess, I truly hope a humble bard like me can at least make you laugh. I may not know swordsmanship, but I know my way around a lute." He waggles his eyebrows. 

Steph pushes him away with a hand to his face and he falls backwards, cackling. 

"Didn't you say you were bisexual?" she asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh... Yeah?"

"So you should know both the lute and swordsmanship.... you know?" Steph extends both her index fingers and crosses them, miming a battle as if they were tiny swords. 

Eddie stares at her blankly. 

"Are those supposed to be penises?" he asks, flabbergasted. 

"Yes." She nods confidently, putting her hands back in her lap. 

"You're perfect, holy shit." Eddie scrambles to sit back up. "You compared dick to a sword and I'm supposed to not marry you?"

She scoffs. 

"Keep at it and you'll be sleeping on the couch." 

Eddie clutches at his chest.

"Already feeling like a married man. Be still, my heart!"

"Yep, it's couch for you." She stands up with finality. 

But when he holds her wrist, she goes back down easily, sinking into a kiss. Maybe the power to win arguments went both ways.

"Fine," she folds. "But we're sharing with Garfield."

"Well, where else would he sleep?"

ko-fi | Steddie masterpost

tags: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94 @tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman @madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore  @icecat @rootbeerandmusic @mollymawkwrites @milojames16 @ellietheasexylibrarian @sadiea20

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 6

Check out part 1 here. AO3

John texted memes. Something about that surprised you. He presented as such a straight-laced demeanor that the silly text images added a layer of intrigue to the man who already took such care not to share more the bare minimum.

He sent his commentary about his ‘muppets’ as he called the men under his command. The image of a man in suspenders, a tie, and a coffee mug in one hand with the text “If they could just not…” followed by any number of pictures of Jim Hensen’s muppets. It always prompts you to ask for the cleansed version of their nonsense. John had confirmed that the men who had come in asking about him were the men under his command. They were still under orders to leave you and your shop alone. When he mentioned that in the first week of texting you were surprised.

>I can hold my own in my shop John, release them to come by for fixes on anything you haven’t already stolen from their bags.

When he didn’t reply within a few hours you followed it up with.

>Your Scotsman seemed pretty excited about getting a family kilt fixed. Let them come by John. I don’t scare easy.

Halfway across the world, John squints at his phone in the darkness of the safe house he and Johnny are waiting for exfil in.

“What did you say to my girl Soap?” Price questions in the quiet.

Soap jerks from his nodding-off sleep in the corner where he had settled down.

“What’s up boss,” he asks sleepily.

He turned his phone to show Johnny the message from you.

“What did you do to my girl?”

Soap squinted through the brightness blasting his eyes.

“Dinne do nothing Cap. Alls I asked about was a kilt repair. Me granddad’s kilt was given to me when he passed, I want to get it fixed up is all.”

Soap lacked the guile to ever pull off being an undercover agent. John turned the phone back to himself, frowning.

“Fine. You can go visit her. Spread the word, but if I hear any of you gave her a bit of grief?” He let the warning linger unspoken behind his words.

“Got it. Can I go back to sleep now?”

John harrumphs and pulls out a cigar, lighting it up as he contemplates how to reply to you.

<:Rolling eye emoji: Fine, but you let me know if they give you any trouble.

>You reply with a gif of someone giving a salute with the text aye aye captain below it.

Physically rolling his eyes this time John settles in to watch the sky and think of you.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

Christmas had to be the most peaceful one you had ever experienced. Laughing with your aunts and eye contact across the table with your cousins when someone said something wild before taking a sip had never been the norm. Every Christmas season meant spending time with your Mum’s family and her resentful sniffs when Pop would inform you of the times when his sisters might be passing through so you could see them. You think Mum hated that you had real conversations with the other side of your family. Everything on her side sat stilted in past hostiles and clothed in niceness for the sake of Gran who still watched with a sharp eye.

You hadn’t expected any gifts but the highlight had to be the scarf from your favorite cousin. It sat light and delicate on your neck. When you said goodbye to everyone and headed up to the spare room your Nana had set up for you. Settling onto the bed you fired off a text to John.

<Merry Christmas! Did you have a good holiday?

>Decent.

>Merry Christmas.

Attached was a photo of John with what looked like egg nog in his mustache with an arm around a man and woman who also had white streaks along their upper lips. Standing so close together you can see they share the same eye-crinkling smile.

<Aww! You look so cute with your egg-nog mustache! Did someone spike it before cups were passed around?

>But of course, can’t discuss childhood stories without a healthy glug of whiskey. Added enough of a kick that even the scary stories were told with a laugh.

>How has yours gone? You mentioned you would be with extended family up north this year.

<It’s been a blast. Best Christmas I can remember for a long time. I am spending the night with my Nana before driving home tomorrow.

<You have any fun plans between now and New Years?

>Other than deep cleaning the mold from my fridge?

You laugh out loud in the empty room. He probably wasn’t kidding. John had mentioned that he can be called for a job at a moment’s notice and sometimes it leaves him with some nasty surprises when he eventually got home.

<Yes you silly man, other than that.

Those dots went on and off for a long time. When the message finally comes through you are disappointed.

>Nothing crazy, mostly catching up on my shows.

<What like The Golden Bachelor?

You can imagine him fighting down a smile as he contemplates a reply. He isn’t that much older than you, but the way he mothers his men has them calling him ‘Old Man’. John complains about it but always with love.

>The muppets would like to you if you would like to join them for New Years.

>I told them I had plans with you but they insisted and are watching for your response.

Smirking you fired off one last response before starting your bedtime routine.

<Should I wear jeans or a pretty dress?

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

Stepping from the cab you wave your thanks and turn to the building. John is standing at the glass door, waiting for you to get close enough that he can welcome you in. You smile at him, excited for his reaction to your dress. It is mostly visible through the undone buttons of your long coat. You had made it yourself, hands cramping late into the night with the number of times you have had to pleat the skirt to sit exactly right. Ironing the piece flat each time you wanted to pleat it slightly differently had been deeply frustrating work.

The black dress wrapped around, sending one tie through the side piece to stretch across your back and meet the other tie to create a bow. The long sleeves and v of the crossing front gave you an excuse to pull out your push-up bra and put the girls on display. You had chosen a long skirt. Reflective swirls of gold shined in the light from your skirt. It brushed the top of your shoes each time you took a step. Jewelry you kept simple; gold hoops and a single pendant on a long chain. Some light eye makeup and a lip stain are all you did for your face today. You would forget to wipe it off when you got home and refused to deal with the breakouts that overnight in your makeup would provide. Thankfully your hair cooperated and sat neatly in a sleek bun.

Looking John over as you approach you are pleased to see him in a suit. The juxtaposition of his winter beanie will never not make you smile. You hadn’t seen this one from him in all his times of coming by. You would tease him about the belt he needed to keep them up later. Perfect you could poke and prod at him tonight to confirm that you had the right size for his Christmas present. It sat in the back of your shop, waiting for his next visit to confirm the dark blue suit would contrast beautifully with his eyes. Double vested with a double vent, because something about that cute bum being covered just so gave you butterflies. The pants should cling to his thighs barely and give him a nice long silhouette

John took you in from top to bottom and back up again. You thought him unaffected until he took your hand as he opened the door and pulled you directly into a hug. Hugging him fired off a spring-loaded batch of emotions. Between the subtle smell of his cologne and the heat of his hands searing through the back of your coat, you’ve never wanted a New Years kiss more than now.

God. You had to say something. Fuck it all. You opened your mouth to say anything really but John beat you to it.

“You look stunning tonight,” he pulls back, hands still settled on your spine. He looks from your hair to your cleavage and back, a warm smile growing on his face.

“Thanks, you look pretty spiffy yourself,” tugging on the lapels of his jacket you continue, “But this doesn’t fit quite right, and was that a belt I saw? How could you keep something like this from me, John?”

His smile got impossibly wider. Joy spread through you like the first drink of a warm liquor.

“I wondered if you would notice. Gaz mentioned to wear a suit and when I went digging through my closet this was all I could find.”

John released you from the hug, one hand sliding from your back and down your arm to catch your hand. He holds it all the way up the elevator. When the elevator deposits you on the 26th floor you let John lead. Number 2607 he opens without hesitation.

All his muppets are present, some even have dates. Kyle stood at the island, cutting cheese for the board. The woman who you assumed to be Kyle’s girlfriend floated around the room. Charms weaved into her braids and a sleek body con dress matched her beautiful smile as she offered you and John both a drink. You were surprised to see that Gary was a blond. His choice of date made much more sense than his hair color and makes you smile. Sharing a look with John he nodded once; Gary had a thing for goth women. Johnny and Simon sat at a table, deep in discussion. Neither had a date to be seen.

“Simon doesn’t surprise me but why doesn’t Johnny have a date?” You turn to question John, wary of letting your voice travel in the open space.

John takes a sip of his drink, “They would have a date if either of them would buck up and ask the other.”

Your eyes widened as you snapped your gaze back to the men.

“You would not make a good agent,” he chuckled. “Johnny come hold this for me.”

Johnny pops up and out of his chair without question, closing the distance to take the drink John is holding out. John then takes your drink and passes it off to Johnny as well. Shivers assault your body as John’s rough fingers slide the coat from your shoulder and move away to hang it up.

“Miss Seamstress!” Johnny leans in and places a kiss on your cheek as he passes your drink back. “It is good to see you. How is your shop going?”

“Good, almost too good. If my space were any bigger I would bring on another seamstress full time. As it stands I might still hire someone to help with the simpler tasks.”

“What counts as a simpler task in a shop like yours?” Johnny cants his head to one side.

“Mostly ironing, unstitching simpler items, phone calls, running the register, things like that.” John appears at your side, a finger catching your pinky. You curl it tight to acknowledge his presence.

Movement over Johnny’s shoulder shows Simon and Kyle both heading toward you for a greeting. Kyle gives you a kiss much like Johnny did and Simon nods. When Gary sees everyone is saying hello he abandons his date for a rib-crushing hug since both your hands are busy.

The night flows on, laughter and food flowing more freely than the drinks do. You end up chatting with Kyle’s and Gary’s girlfriends about Pilates and how funny it would be to see the men try. They jump from history to space to fashion and beyond. Midnight sees Gary and Kyle kissing their girlfriends. Johnny and Simon stare at each other’s feet in abject longing and John places a kiss on the back of your hand, much to your chagrin.

As John had nursed his single drink all night he drove you home after one, passing through a sobriety checkpoint with ease. The conversation never stopped flowing with John, teasing and jokes kept your spirits lifted until you arrived at your flat. He walked you to your door, hand firmly in yours.

His thumb brushed against your knuckles as you stared up into his eyes, hoping, praying for a kiss.

“Thank you for coming. I left your gift at home since I didn’t want you to have to lug it about. When can I bring it by?”

“You’re gift is at the shop, so tomorrow maybe? About noon?”

“That would work fine. I had a lot of fun tonight and I know my guys like you.”

“They are important to you, it makes sense you would want someone in your life to get along with them.”

“And do you,” he paused here, eyes searching your face, “What to be part of my life?”

Desperately. More than anything. Fuck yes.

None of those words passed your lips. All you could do is nod.

With his free hand, John cradles your face, pressing his lips to yours.

It had to be the best first kiss you ever had because you can’t remember a damn second of it. When you finally blink John is halfway down the hall and turning back to see if you are okay since you haven’t moved.

Sending him a sheepish smile and a nod you fight with your key to get your lock open and fling yourself inside. Once the door finds its home you squeal as quietly as you can and happy dance like a dork.

Part 5 | Part 7

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

[darthannie]

purpose statement

part 2 of thesis statement

(part III here)

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader

Summary: After spending the night at your professor’s house, you’re left wondering what the hell you’re gonna do next.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is 24, Jim is 43), morning sex, kissing, praise, dom!Jim, p in v, oral, budding d/s relationship(?)

a/n: I’m back. Kinda! I'll make a post about it! But, here's part two of thesis statement! Read the first one if you'd like. Jim english professor confirmed (to me lol). I might turn this into a series but I'm not too sure yet. This one ends with kind of a cliffhanger, so there might be a part three. Anywho, enjoy!

A leg drapes over yours.

A hand grabs your stomach.

Warm air hits the back of your neck.

His nose softly brushes across your shoulder as he presses a kiss there. And all through this, you’re just barely awake. You sigh into the feeling, pressing your back against his chest. You didn’t know what time it was, and you couldn’t care less. He tightend his embrace. You try to scoot closer to him as if that was even possible. You wanted to be completely engulfed by him. You had a ton of questions, but for now, you were mute. This was as good as it was going to get. After a minute, you manage to turn around and face him before burying youself in his chest.

“Mornin’”, he sighs. 

“Ugh, what time is it?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He kisses the top of your head as silence settles around the both of you. 

“What’s going through your head?”, he asks. 

“Why were you in the shop that day?”

“Well… It was part dare and part curiosity. And another part of me wanted to try out a toy for the first time.”

“You left in quite a rush.”

“Well, yes a certain student graced me with her presence.”

You blush and meet his eyes, remembering the interaction. “Did you go back?”

“Oh, no.” he chuckles. 

“Why not.”

“I have my toy right here.”

“Jim…”, I said faining annoyance and rolling my eyes at him

“Sorry, sorry that was lame. However, you have to admit it’s true,” his voice darkens, “Are you gonna go home and touch yourself or would you rather have the real thing?”

Your breath hitched. “I-I’d rather have the real thing.” You placed your hand on his chest as if to confirm his existance. He was real and you were indeed in bed with him. In bed with your professor. 

He kissed your forehead, “Right. That’s exactly right… Class is cancelled by the way.” He said it so matter-of-factly. Like it was as easy as that. And, apparently, it was. 

“Check your email.”

You rolled over and grabbed your phone that was magically plugged into a charger, Jim’s doing. You opened up your email and there it was. Among spam emails about the latest 20% off sale at the campus store was an email from Jim. 

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, class today is cancelled. See you all next week ready to work. Best, Jim”

You dropped your phone on the bed. “Jim… What? Why?”

“Because I would rather spend my day in bed with a beautiful woman.” He pulled you into a kiss. “Is that a crime?”

“Well, I just thought-“ You’re cut off by a hand reaching down to you hip. His other hand squeezes between the mattress and your body. You yelp as he guides you to straddle him. You help him along and he looks up at you, teasing you as he cocks his head to the side. “You thought what?”

Your hands lay on his chest. You feels him hard under you. “I thought it was a one night thing. I thought that was it.”

“Oh, no, love I meant it when I said you were mine. I mean. If you want to be of course.”

“What like a friends with benefits situation?”

He tilted his head side to side as if weighing his options. “Yeah, something like that.”

You jaw unhinged to speak but no sound came out. You sat back on his lap, feeling him dig into you a bit more. He spoke before you could muster anything up, “You don’t have to make a decision right now. I don’t want to force you into any type of arrangement or anything. However-“

“However,” you grinded your hips, “what?”

He held in a groan, “However, I really want to be inside you right now, love… Please…” His hands rested on your thighs and he lifted his hips to show you how much he wanted it. He pulled you down into a kiss and wrapped his arms around you. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him away to make room. You moved down to kiss his neck. His breath got caught in his throat as you liked a stripe up his neck and reached down under the covers. He let out a hiss as your hand went under his underwear and wrapped around his cock. 

“How are you already so hard?” You woke up ready to tease and he only bucked his hips up in response as you released him.

“Baby, please-“

“Please what?”

He moaned again. “I need-“

“Need what?”

He exhaled, “Fuck.” He flipped her over so she was on her back. He hungrily kissed her neck and nipped at her ear. He grabs onto one of her tits and feels the weight of it in your hand. He moves down to suck on it as she moan his name. He pulls back up and kisses your lips. “Tell me I can take what I want.”

“Jim, I-“

“Tell me, love. Tell me I can take whatever I want.”

You have never been more turned on in your life. You looked him in the eye and say “You can take whatever you want.”

You didn’t even realize he was lining himself up with your wet hole. He plunged into you right as you finished your sentence. He moves in slow thrusts and focuses on you, wanting to see take in you expression. 

He looks down at your body. He wants nothing more than to worship every inch. Everything about this is wrong. It should have been avoided at all costs, but instead of focusing on that he focuses on draging his hand the curve of you hips. He focuses on how your breast fits perfectly in his hand. He focuses on the taste of your lips. It doesn’t matter how wrong this is. He wants all of you.

You’re sweating. Your hair is messy. Nothing about you is put together, and he thinks you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you are so fucking gorgeous.” He kissed her right as he finished his sentence. 

“You’re amazing,” he kissed your cheek, “and you’re a damn good writer.”

He whispered the last part into your ear and kissed your neck. Your giggle turned into a moan as you felt him shift to a new spot inside of you, suddenly hitting where you needed him most.  A groan left him as he repositioned himself, thrusting harder and moving to cup your face. Desperate. He was desperate for you.

You pulled him closer to you, needing to feel his body against yours again. He picked up the pace when your fingers laced through his hair, guiding his mouth to your neck. Your other hand firmly held is arm to brace yourself for an orgasm that has yet to come. He nipped at your neck, careful not to leave marks. All the sensations at once motivated you to let go of his arm and reach for your clit. He chuckled and removed your hand from between your bodies, earning him a whimper. He pinned your arm above your head. 

“Ask me.” You only whimpered in response. 

“Go ahead, use your words. Ask me.“

A quiet “please” was all you could utter. 

“Please, what? Please stop?” he said as he slowed his pace. 

“No!” 

“Then, what? What do you want to do, love?”

“I want to rub my clit while you fuck me.” You spoke barely above whisper and he heard you, but it didn’t matter. He wanted you to beg. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

You groaned, growing more needy and annoyed as every second passed. “Please…”

“Say it, babygirl.” He thrust suddenly. Hard and deep.  

“Ah! Please, let me rub my clit while you fuck me. Please, please, please!” 

He grinned and gripped your wrist. He moved your arm in between your bodies and you immediately began touching yourself. Your head tilted back as your eyes rolled back and closed. It was better than anything you could have imagined. You opened your eyes to find Jim looking down and staring where your bodies met. He slowed down and watched as he entered you. 

“Jim, please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” 

He pulled out and watched your expression twist from one of pleasure to one of desperation. 

“Jim,” you drew out his name, “fuck, why!”

“I need to taste you.” He started to move down.

“Jim, please. Just-“

“Are you my good girl?”, he challenged you

You nodded and he shook his head. 

“Words.”

“I’m a good girl.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I’m a very, very good girl.” 

“Then let me eat this pussy.”

He moved down til his face was between your legs. He licked from your wet hole to your clit. You moaned as he licked and sucked. After a few seconds he stopped. 

“Do you deserve my cum, baby? 

“Yes! Please. Please, I deserve it!”

“Tell me you want me. Tell me how bad you need me.” His voice was low. He needed to hear you say it. 

“I want you. I really, really want you.. Fuck, I need you.” You let out a long moan as he went back to your clit with more determination than before. You pressed his head deeper between your legs as he devoured you. He reached up to grab your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You bucked your hips up and he moved with you. 

“I want you inside me. I want your cum inside me again. I want it over and over and over again.” 

He pulled back for air, cursed under his breath, and quickly lined himself up again. 

You kissed him as he entered you slowly again. The kiss was messy and wanton. You tasted yourself on his tongue. His thumb rubbed your clit and your hips absentmindedly met his. 

“Jim,” your voice thin, “I’m gonna-.” 

“Let go, love. I’m right behind you.” 

He let you ride your high before he finished inside you. Spent and panting he didn’t dare move. You were sweaty, exhausted, and experiencing pure bliss. His hands caressed your sides as he soothed you. It was only when you both came down that he pulled out and dragged you towards him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were so good,” he whispered, “You were so good for me. So perfect for me...”

You hummed and cuddled into his chest. You felt a bit of awkwardness starting to creep in. You didn’t know how to feel. Submitting to him even the tiniest bit felt like a burden on him, even if he indulged in your every desire. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what to even say in return to you were “so perfect”. You went a little rigid and moved away from him just enough to lift your hand. 

“Thank you. Nice job. Go team.” You mentally facepalmed. You couldn’t figure out what else to say, so you landed on something you’d say after a corporate team building exercise. Or, at least, it felt detached enough that you wouldn’t have to confront your feelings for him.

He laughed and obliged the high five. Then, he laced his fingers with yours and gave the back of your hand a kiss. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, “Darling, why are you getting awkward on me now?” 

You looked up at him and lost yourself in his eyes. He stared back at you with a newfound curiosity. He was searching for a way into your head so that he could finally have some clarity in his life. He just wanted to know if he was right about something, someone, this time. 

“I’m not getting awkward I’m just-“

“Deflecting.” His look said “I’m right aren’t I?” and you half rolled your eyes.

He sighed and rubbed his thumb against your shoulder. “You, my dear, need some advice.”

“Dear god, here comes Professor Ji-.”

“Let. Go.” The soft smile on his face made you feel safe instantly.

You exhaled though your nose, “Pardon?” 

“Let go. Give into… this, whatever this is. Just let go. Let it happen. I’ll be here to catch you.”

“I… How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t. But, I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“No, not me as your professor. Me as your-“

“As my what? What are you to me exactly? You’re not my partner. We’re not dating. So you as my what?” His comment through you for a loop. You were apprehensive. The last thing you wanted to do was get too attached. 

“As your escape.”

He was right. You desperately needed this. It was an appitite you could never satiate. Yet, you laid with the only person that ever fulfilled your needs and you wondered how much more he could do for you. You wondered how much further you could go, how much deeper this dynamic could go. How much of himself he was willing to give to you? Not to mention, how would you keep this life separate from your life at school? You were both adults, but things like this cloud a persons judgement. 

He continued, “I know you. I can tell what you enjoy just from your writing. You write about romance and relationship dymanics often. I can tell what you’re into based on your word choice alone. I believe it was you that wrote “There’s a certain type of desperation that takes over when you give yourself, your body, to someone else.” I know you, darling. I know what you need and I know how to give it to you. Just let me.”

[ellouchi]

One-shot: taking a bath with Jimmy (gn/just hints of suggestiveness)

Disclaimer: none? You know how Jimmy is.

Side notes: super indulgent if you couldn't tell. I wrote this in one day, sorry if this sucks ass. Don't judge me on the order of things! Sorry if it breaks the illusion or something.

"If you needed an excuse to grope me, you could've just asked" Jimmy teased sarcastically, pulling his smelly jersey over his head and dropping it carelessly onto the growing heap of clothes laying on the cold bathroom tiles.

"Uh-huh, you know exactly what I mean." You punched his arm playfully, knowing too well how Jimmy would respond to your proposition in the first place. "We will just take a bath together and that's the end of it."

"And that's it? Really? I find it hard to believe that you don't have any ulterior motives. Besides, I can wash myself just fine without another pair of hands getting in my way, what's the point of us washing together if we won't be fucking?" Jimmy tried again, this time locking his eyes with the buckle of his belt. He could tell you could tell he felt sceptical about this whole idea. From where he looked at it, it didn't make sense, just like countless other things you suggested doing ever since you two became "a couple". However, most of times he enjoyed doing said activities with you, albeit never getting rid of his wariness and cheeky attitude often accompanied by lewd comments.

Once Jimmy was naked, he folded his arms and looked at you expectantly. It was rather an endearing sight, and as much as you would have loved to memorize every detail and curve of your boyfriend's physique, you opted for flinging the last articles of clothes from your own body.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in!"

It's not like Jimmy has never taken a bath before, it was just the one you had prepared he had a problem with. He scowled back at the hot steam rising in puffy clouds, the kind of temperatures he didn't get to experience before on his skin. The water glimmered with a thin orange sheen from the bath bomb you bought at the store, it gave out a nice smell of grapefruit at least. You observed Jimmy eyeing the tub with mistrust, most likely asking himself if this was even appropriate for humans to wash in. You wondered if Jim would ask you if this would leave him more dirty than before he got in or would this give him third degree burns.

"Looks like Satan's cauldron straight up from hell. Are you sure it won't boil me alive?" So it was the second option.

"I take those bathes all the time and look at me: I'm both clean and unharmed. So quickly get in, unless you want me to manhandle you like a cat."

With a dragged out 'fine' Jimmy dipped his foot into the water, waiting for the burn which never came, and then finally sat in the tub with a wince. The water was way hotter to what he was used to, that much was clear: he could feel the warmth instantly envelope his body like he was wrapped in the blanket set on fire. You followed suit, settling behind him and pulling his body from behind to rest against yours.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Jimmy asked, scenes from different movies flashing somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Next time for sure, but now just lay like this and try to relax" you reassured, not offering any further explanations.

And so Jimmy went silent, just resting there in your embrace, watching the flicker of candles you previously scattered around the bathroom "to add to the atmosphere". Being acutely aware of your exposed body just below him, soft and inviting, really put his lower part of the body to a test. It would be so easy for Jimmy to flip around and pin your wrists above your head, to glide his free hand from your wet flustered face down to your bare abdomen. And yet, the man has closed his eyes instead, listening in to the soft melody you put on the background, trusting you this one time. He had already decided that if this bathing time didn't prove to be worthwhile, he would take matters into his own hands instead. Later.

Jimmy almost jolted from his nap when he felt your hands suddenly snake from his chest to his shoulders. Your fingers begun to slowly knead his tense muscles, smoothing out knots formed from the tension. It wasn't easy, but the water managed to relax his body quite a bit for you to work your magic. Meanwhile Jimmy tried his best to suppress the tremor of pleasure running through him each time you found a new spot to massage. Fuck he never knew how badly he needed that. He could moan alone just from this, but he didn't want you to think something weird of him or think he was this easy to please. Still, without any words you could tell Jimmy felt fantastic: the way his body slacken against yours, hear how he silently sighed, and sense his big hand lightly gripping your knee. You swore you heard him swear under his breath when you dipped your thumbs between his shoulders blades.

"Jimmy, the water is getting cold" you hinted. The man understood it was time for washing, so he lazily rose into a sitting position, folding his knees to the chest.

"Mmm I'm awake I'm awake..." Jimmy grumbled when you poured as much water as you could over his head.

"I know silly, I will wash your hair now" you explained, reaching behind to grab a brand new shampoo bottle you bought for Jimmy. That men's "three in one" shampoo will haunt you for days to come, you always wondered who were those men who bought this stuff but here was Jimmy, living under your roof. He even had the nerve to complain about you wasting products when you chucked the bottle to trash.

You carefully rubbed the gel into Jimmy's scalp, humming to the changing tune of the music, minding tangled locks which you gently combed through to even out. As you massaged his head further, the delicious fruity scent followed into Jimmy's nostrils, the smell he initially attributed to lady's shampoo now seeming more unisex than he initially thought. When you lightly scratched his scalp, the man almost let out a purr, leaning into your touch, following your motions. Jimmy washed his hair all the time, why with you it felt so different?

"Like this... this feels good yeah Jimmy?" You cooed into Jimmy's ear. He couldn't see your face but he could hear your smile in your voice. Obviously, Jimmy enjoyed every second of it, but you relished in too, huh...? He couldn't understand why.

Your boyfriend responded with an affirmative hum as you rinsed his hair, tilting his jaw up so the soapy water couldn't get into his eyes.

Another creaky sound of the bottle being opened disturbed an otherwise silent room, of the shower gel Jimmy assumed. He felt a sponge press onto his neck, moving in circles. The man took it as a sign to lower his head and sit tighter, exposing more of his back for you to wash.

Jimmy had a brief moment of clearance appear out of nowhere. Stretching his back like that has never felt so easy before, his skin and muscles would tug at his bones, despite the fact that he practiced weightlifting for so many years. The tension sitting in his body, akin to a spring ready to burst, suddenly just not being there. He couldn't deny that your touch...no, not only that, your care and your presence put his body and mind to the state of ease he couldn't remember feeling ever from anyone else in his life. Hell, when was the last time Jimmy exposed his back like that to anyone? When was the last time someone's hands delicately touched his body with nothing but care?

When was the last time he was taken care of in such an intimate, non sexual way...?

You stoped moving the sponge in your hand when you felt Jimmy's frame lightly shaking. Did you find a ticklish spot? You were about to tease your boyfriend, oblivious to the revelations the man came up with, until you ears picked upon a chipped sob. Your mood suddenly darkened.

"Jim? Hey, what's wrong? Hey...."

The man didn't respond instantly, his shoulders buckling inwards before he spoke "...'s nothing, sorry." He replied as flatly as he could muster, responding to his own reflection on the water.

"Did I do something wro--" you couldn't help asking before your question got cut off.

"Stop. No, don't say that. You didn't do... anything wrong... It's me..."

The last word felt like a punch to the gut. You desperately wanted Jimmy to turn around, for you to wipe his tears away and tell the sweetest reassurance, but you knew it was better to let him be. Jimmy wouldn't want you to see him weeping like this.

"Do you want me to hug you?"

"Yeah..." He stopped briefly "... please".

Without a beat, you carefully laid your warm body on Jimmy's cooling back, putting your cheek on the backside of his shoulder. Your arms embraced his waist protectively, occasionally moving to caress his sides. The water was starting to go cold, the candles almost burned to the end.

The music continued to quietly hum in the corner.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

Ten reasons Ed Teach is lovable 💕

kindness The sweetness and care he shows Stede when he awakes. The way he greets the crew. The patience with Jack, and Izzy, neither of whom deserve it. How quickly he wins over Zheng with his goofy giggles…

feels deeply The hurt at being mocked is palpable. The indescribable pain at Stede’s leaving. The shock and fallout from Izzy’s threats. The lack continued lack of self esteem. But Ed also feels deeply in positive ways, showing awe and wonder at Stede’s curios, fabrics, books, marmalade. Such joy at catching a fish! And he feels romantic love at a very deep level. No one has loved like Ed Teach in the history of loving.

so fucking clever Date error aside, the fog / tidal plan is fantastic. And the save with the lighthouse fuckery, sublime - because Ed came up with the practicalities of how they were going to be a lighthouse on the bounce. And whilst disturbing, it takes a genius of a mind to come up with that gravy basket imagery, including the Merstede vision. Even Ed’s survival mechanism, heartbreaking as it is, is objectively wonderful. The artistic compartmentalisation of personas. Ed both protects and breaks himself on his cleverness. But the clever working class boy who deserves the world, and finally gets it, is a trope which will never grow old for me.

believes in a best self Ed’s not quite sure what that looks like on any given day, but he wants to be utmost in who he is. ‘Jeff… never turns his back on a challenge.’ ‘Blackbeard always wins’ (problem actually). ‘‘Behold… / I’m a fisherman now… you said it was a good fish’.

And Ed’s supportive of others too. ‘You’ve got it all figured out’, ‘The sheer talent on this ship…’ Even in dark moments, Jim is ‘quite the specimen’.

Ed needs to realise that his best self is not necessarily one with no mistakes, and others aren’t without fault either (Stede, he learns the hard way). But the fact Ed won’t settle for a mediocre version of life anymore, believes in better… I love him for it.

violence as a last resort. Ed’s MO is non-violence first, prior to the Kraken spiral. Even during the raids, he is more of an observer. Ed’s attitude to violence is never casual. Pete, Roach, even Wee John… they have casual attitudes to violence in a way never demonstrated by Ed. The twice he appears to commit violence directly is to protect his mother after years of abuse, and protect Stede against colonial violence. It’s violence in the name of love.

forgives easily Too easily at times. The grace he shows over and over to Izzy. How quickly he forgives Stede (that’s okay). The only character he doesn’t forgive easily is himself. Ed’ll get there.

gets Stede Immediately. The excitement at Stede’s knickknacks. Understanding Stede is a lunatic, and that this is a likeable, desirable trait. The viewer understanding Stede through Ed’s focalisation is key to getting the show.

so goofy Ed’s cosplaying Stede within thirty minutes. He’s a theatre kid, jumping down three easy steps on a swing-rope; fuckeries, canon-balling off the ship, the gorgeous chaos of the post-coital breakfast…

has hope (it’s cute) That he ran towards the light of The Gentleman Pirate That he believed they could run away to China and be happy. That his dying brain was able to create Merstede. That he wants to give innkeeping a try even when he’s half-dead…

Ed could’ve been so hard and brittle by middle age, but he isn’t. He has boyish hope and it’s part of what saves him.

he’s beautiful His eyes, his hair, the peach of an ass, and he really does wear fine things well. But it’s not just all that. His eye-crinkles, his smile, his voice, his laughter, his tears, his double pats, his energy, his wit, his little teeth, the surly teen-girl face when he’s upset, his thoughtfulness. His unconditional love for Stede Bonnet.

This is a non-definitive list. Please add your own ‘why Ed Teach is lovable’ thoughts 💕

[thebumblebeesworld]

A • BLOSSOMING • LOVE

part two • annie x fem reader

summary: annie is new in town, but she is quick to be roped into the world of our reader.

cw: use of nword, smoke slander, mentions of internalized homophobia, mentions of racism and Jim Crow, mentions of hoodoo

a/n: I WRITE BLACK CHARACTERS AND EXPERIENCES. inspired by that one scene in the color purple (2023) where shug and celie go to the movie theater and kiss cause they're gay and in loveeee

part one; part three; part four.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mm,” Smoke grumbled as you got back in the truck, watching as Annie entered her home. You settled into your seat comfortably with a soft smile before backing out of her long driveway. Your peace was interrupted as Smoke continued to grunt in your direction, trying to rile you up on purpose.

“What the fuck is yo’ problem, nigga,” you furrowed at him, confused as to why he couldn't just accept the fact that someone wanted you and not him. “You can’t be happy for you?”

“I’m happy,” he folded his arms, looking out the window as a sign to stop the conversation before it truly began. Y'all had grown up together, so you both knew when to stop while you were ahead. The fights you had in your youth were proof of that.

“Whatever,” you huffed, barreling down the road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long morning of working out on the farm, you returned home. It had been a relatively easy shift, and like usual, you finished up before the noon sun could even reach its highest point. You were always an early riser, especially when you have things to look forward to.

Tonight was your date with Annie, and you aimed to make it special. There wasn't much for you to go off of since you didn’t get to ask her much about herself the day prior, but you thought something simple would be good for a first date.

You arranged everything, figuring out small details like arrival time and what you were going to wear. While at work, you picked her a large bouquet of long stem roses, hoping she’d enjoy them. As the sun was on the verge of setting, you drove to Annie’s home.

Raising your hand to knock politely on her front door, you were stunned as it swung open. You expected to meet the face of Annie, but looking down, you saw a child that looked fairly similar to her.

"Hello, sweetheart," you crouched down, clutching the roses in your clammy, nervous hands.

"Hi," she waved back, "you here fa’ Annie?"

You nodded, looking up to see two other children running around the front room. The home was fragrant, the same smells of patchouli and shea butter that surrounded Annie with an interesting mix of home cooking. Cornbread, fried okra, and gumbo.

"Terry! Who told you to open up that front door," you heard Annie shout from behind the young girl. You raised up to your feet as you took in her physique. The white dress she wore yesterday was traded for a blue cotton dress, and she wore gold and navy beaded necklaces and bracelets.

Annie's hair was an updo of curls that framed her face perfectly.

"I said she could, Ann," an older woman chastised from a room you couldn't quite see from your position on the other side of the door. "Stop bein' mean to that baby!"

The girl giggled, sticking her tongue out at Annie before running away to play with the others.

Annie let out a small laugh and shamelessly traced her eyes over your body. A day away from each other had you both yearning from the other. When Annie walked into her home after you dropped her off, her grandmother and siblings immediately began asking questions and teasing her for her dazed expression. She couldn't get you out of her mind, and she liked it that way.

When you left her, you couldn't even be upset with Smoke's ridiculous jealousy. You wanted Annie more than you had wanted anything before. The way she smelled swirled around you and clung to your faraway mind. The sound of her calling her name whispered down your neck like a prayer—or a spell.

You'd heard tales of people getting roots put on them, but you already knew that Annie would never have to do that to keep you. Whether it was a conscious thought or not, you were already hers.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hey, lovely," you purred, laughing as she turned her eyes away from you and shielded her face. She was blushing so hard that red showed through her brown skin.

Yours matched.

"You gon' invite the girl in," the woman from earlier walked up behind her, "or you just gon' keep on skinnin' and grinnin' like a fool in love."

Annie stepped aside as her eyes went wide with embarassment. She guided you inside and pointed her head towards the woman.

"Y/n, this is my grandmama Ernestine. Grandmama, this is y/n. And those are my siblings over there." You extended your hand with a small smile, trying not to let your nervousness show, but her grandmother immediately huffed at your gesture and pulled you into a bone-crushing, soul-wrapping hug. You weren't sure how much the woman knew about you and Annie's...friendship? Relationship? Situation?

Either way, she immediately picked up on your nervous energy.

"No need to be scared, sweetheart," she reassured softly, patting your shoulder with a chuckle. "Annie told me all about the pretty girl who paid for her groceries and gave her a ride home." There was a kind knowing in her tone that settled your heart. You met Annie's eyes and all you found was earnestness.

“These are for you,” you handed the bouquet of roses to Annie after her grandmother departed to the kitchen. You both followed. Annie smelled the flowers, smiling with gratitude before grabbing a nearby roll of twine.

“Thank you, suga’,” she sighed pleasantly. You eyed her with a curious smile as Annie wound the twine around the stem of the roses. She sang to herself softly. Securing the flowers tightly with a knot, Annie left a little excess dangling in a loop.

You took in the rest of her home. Candles, dried flowers, and little jars of dirt, twigs, and spices covered most of the surfaces. It rattled with a type of energy you had only felt when near a church house or graveyard.

It was powerful.

Comforting.

It eased your mind as you felt like you heard voices running through your body.

“You one of them hoodoo women,” you questioned. There was no judgement in your voice. Only fascination. Her grandmother who stood just a few feet away at the stove giggled like she knew what was coming next.

“Yea’,” she replied, swallowing thickly on the defense, “you got a problem with that.” Her neck rolled slightly, head tilting to the side. You found it beautiful the way she expressed herself.

“No, I don’t,” you spoke quietly. Your hand reached over to touch the top of the rose petals, brushing timidly against her open palm. “I’m intrigued by you. I wanna know you.”

Annie froze. Her breathing picked up. You couldn’t tell if it was because of your confession for wanting to be involved with her or simply because you didn’t bat an eye at her spiritual practices. But truth be told, both were the reason why.

Annie had lost a lot of friends who just didn’t understand—or didn’t try to understand. People always looked at her family as weird, but when they needed guidance after losing faith in themselves or the things around them, they always sought out her or her grandmama for assistance.

You didn’t have an initial aversion to who she was. And you were intrigued by her. It made her chest swell.

“Well,” she began, grabbing the bound up flowers and placing them on a hook in a nearby doorway, “let’s go on this date so you can get to know me, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where we goin’ to,” Annie asked you as you had been driving for a good while. The sun was setting, casting a litany of orange and purples across you both. Her body shined in a way that made you want to see how she looked in every type of lighting. You looked over and smiled at her perplexed face—bottom lip slightly pouting, forehead a bunch of wrinkles.

“You’ll see, love.”

You could tell she wanted to fight you on it, but as you laid your hand on her thigh, she sat back in her seat with folded arms. Successfully silenced and actually enjoying the ride.

Cotton fields and trees quickly turned into civilization again as buildings and passing cars began to spring up. Annie’s back came up off the seat of your truck, and her eyes opened wide.

“What we doin’ here,” she questioned as you parked your truck outside of a theatre. There were Black and white people walking around the streets of the town. They all had on their night attire, ready to partake in what nightlife had to offer, but you observed the looks traded between both groups. Neither you nor Annie could help but notice the tensions that hung in the air. Pushing it aside, your date let her excitement surge. “We gon’ watch a motion picture?”

“We sure are, lovely,” you grinned, happy to see her ecstatic face. You’d heard about this new theatre opening up by one of your buddies from work. He said it was the best thing to happen in li’l ole Mississippi, so since you got paid just a few days ago, you decided now would be the perfect time to have some fun.

You opened her door and guided you both to the ticket booth. The lady behind the glass eyed you with a look of distain, a hateful glare that you could usually avoid unless you decided to go to Clarksdale’s train station or town center. White folks hated to see you, but they loved taking your money.

“Colored entrance is that way,” she spat, pointing around to the backside of the building that led to a long flight of steps. Reaching the top, you and Annie entered the peanut gallery.

While the racial tensions were draining in their own way, you both gawked at the motion picture screen, unable to believe that you were one of the few Clarksdale inhabitants who had gotten a chance to experience it.

“Wow,” Annie exclaimed. She was on the edge of her seat and looking every bit of beautiful. While you tried your best to pay attention to the silent film rolling in front of you, you couldn’t help but notice Annie. Her wonderment was contagious, and the flash of blue lights across her face from the screen made you fall even further than you already had.

Your breathing stopped as she grabbed your hand, tangling your fingers. She placed your conjoined hands on the top of her thigh and just smiled ahead, not looking at you just yet. You'd never received affection so openly, and by the looks of it, Annie hadn't even thought twice about being affectionate. All of the girls you dated before her liked to act as friends in public and be all over you and up under you in private. It was exhausting, but as you stared at her side profile, you saw a new life laid out in front of you.

One full of open and out love.

You finally faced forward, but you didn’t stop yourself from sparing her a glance every now and then, meeting her eyes under the blue light.

"My God! That was incredible," Annie laughed loudly as you drove back to Clarksdale. The roads were quiet once again. Cicadas chirped in the long grasses near the side of the road, but her voice of pure joy was louder than that and the roar of your truck combined. She clapped her hands with content, and she giggled to herself. "I can't believe you just took me to see a movie."

You briefly looked from the road to enjoy the astonishment on her face.

"I hope you enjoyed it," you sighed with a smile.

"You hope," she questioned with a goofy eye. "That's the best date I've ever been on." The energy shifted as you both took in the night sky and path ahead of you. You didn't drive late at night very often, but were certainly enjoying yourself, mentally preparing another date for you both. "I might just have to keep you around," she winked.

"Mm," you grinned. "I hope you do."

Annie breathed a heavy breath. She spoke with a quiet tone, but she was very sure of herself.

"I want you to know that I don't want to keep you hidden," she guaranteed you, picking up your hand that was sitting idly on the gear shift. "I know you've had unsavory relationships in the past, and I don't even know if you wanna, like, be with me in that way, but I told my grandma 'bout you. And I'll gladly hold your hand while walking down a busy street. You don't have to worry 'bout that with me."

Her confession brought tears to your eyes so much so that you were starting to tremble. You pulled the car over to the side of the road and just turned towards her.

Annie reached up and wiped your face before cradling your head in her warm hands.

In a gust of desire and honesty, you lunged forward, connecting your lips with Annie's. You moaned in each other's mouths, bodies shutting down at the tenderness around you. You longed for a connection that would last far longer than either of you. The strong spiritual current that swirled around her home seemed to be thrusted into your body on account of her plump lips.

Your bodies were one, and even though you didn't want to pull apart, you knew you had to eventually.

"I want that with you," you admitted, probably moving too fast but not giving a damn about timelines or what's appropriate.

Annie's hand drifted down the side of your neck, causing your body to react involuntarily with a soft moan.

"You're so cute," she giggled, biting her bottom lip. "When I first saw you in the store, ain't know what to make of you."

"What you mean," you wondered aloud as you began driving again. Your voices were light and playful once again. You were almost to Clarksdale, but you didn't want the night to end just yet.

"I don't know," she admitted. "There's just somethin' 'bout your energy that I can't sort through just yet."

"That a bad thing?"

She smiled.

"No."

As you entered Clarksdale, a small sign marking your arrival, you asked Annie to extend your evening together:

“My friends are havin’ a li’l get together," you began, lips still tingling from that kiss. "You wanna come wit’ me?”

"It's yo' friends from yesterday," she questioned. Her hands toyed with your fingers idly, and you breathed contently at the contact.

"Mhm."

She hummed back at you, playfully raising her eyebrows and placing a finger on her chin to appear in deep thought. Like turning you down was even a possibility, but you both knew she wanted to come with.

"Fine," she struggled, reminding you of how she had acted yesterday when you offered her a ride. You chuckled at her silliness. "But if yo' mean friend get rowdy again today, I'm gon' have to make good on my promises to cut his ass." She nodded curtly.

"And I'll make good on mine too, lovely," you assured. "I've got you. I promise."

Annie smiled in her seat and sang to herself—and you. You loved her deep voice. It was captivating and warming.

As you turned a corner, Mary's house came into view. You saw the lights were on at the barn, so you knew everyone was still there.

You hoped that they wouldn’t make a big deal about you finally getting a girl, but you knew they’d be on some bullshit like always.

~~~~~~~~~~~

gonna have some fun with part threeee. i must say that i do like smoke, but it must be done for the plot

@bigjh and @theelusivemidnighthoe asked to be tagged :3

[starrgazed22]

WHAT A DAY.

Jim Halpert x gn!reader, 2.5K words Warnings: Vulgarism, pushing. (Not Jim pushing ofc) My comment: First fanfic ever, it's summer and I am bored haha. Enjoy! ALSO I couldn't think of a fitting title. Summary: Jim helps reader out with taking her dog to the vet, inviting her to his roommate's party afterwards.

──────

(Jim talking to the camera crew)

“The way she sits in her chair with one leg up… sometimes both legs up. The way she balances her pen on everything while making phone calls,” he lets out a soft chuckle, “Her origamis that I find on my table every time we come back from lunch.” He starts fumbling in his pants pocket, revealing a small origami frog to the crew. “Like this one today,” he looks at it, then looks back at the crew and does his typical downturned smile.

──────

You finish a call with a client, balancing your pen on its holder, just as Jim described. The cameraman focuses on you, then pans to Jim, who watches you with an admiring smile and eyes full of warmth.

“Yes, February 28th. That’s right,” you confirm to a client on the phone. "Have a nice day," you hang up.

Jim glances at the camera as he gets up and walks over to you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says nervously, rubbing his hands together. “I was wondering, are you free tonight? My roommate is throwing a party, and I thought we could go together?” He asks, his voice genuine and hopeful.

“Jim, I’m sorry, I can’t tonight… I have to take my dog to the vet. It’s on the other side of Scranton, so…” you say, disappointed. “It’s going to take some time to get there by train—”

“I can take you… and your dog,” he offers immediately, showing the palms of his hands.

“You mean it?” you ask, caught off guard.

“Of course. I want to meet your dog,” he teases slightly, but you know he's serious.

You look at him, touched. “That would be so kind. Thank you, Jim.”

“When is the appointment?” “At 6.” “Great, we’ll leave at 5.” He smiles warmly at you.

He returns to his desk, exchanging a satisfied glance with the camera. Two hours fly by in a blur of Friday phone calls. You both pack up and head to his car. Jim opens the door of the car for you, and you settle into the front passenger seat. You drive to your place to pick up your dog first.

“Are you okay with having a dog in your car?” you ask uncertainly.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, genuinely confused.

You chuckle softly. “My boyfriend could never handle it, you know. Hates the hair,” you say sadly.

“Oh,” Jim responds, caught off guard by your answer, finding out another terrible thing about your boyfriend.

You arrive at your apartment, Jim and the cameraman waiting in the car. You quickly get your dog and head back out. Jim watches as you and your dog approach. The dog is a mixed breed puppy. Probably a mix of retriever and some other breed he couldn't quite put a finger on. He gets out of the car, squatting down to the dog’s level.

“Oh, hello,” he says in a high-pitched tone. “Can I pet him?” he asks.

“Sure,” you laugh as Finn jumps on Jim, licking his cheek. The cameraman captures the moment from the car window. You decide to sit in the back with Finn, next to the cameraman, to keep him from jumping on Jim while driving. Finn sniffs the camera, leaving the cameraman with an adorable footage.

You drive to the vet, chatting about how you got Finn and today’s rabies shot. The drive is short, filled with easy conversation. Finally, you arrive, leading Finn inside with Jim following behind.

The veterinarian takes Finn’s lead from your hand, and Jim squats down to give Finn a reassuring pat.

“You’ll be alright, big boy, we’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” Jim murmurs, rubbing Finn behind his ears. Your heart melts at the tenderness in Jim’s voice. Your boyfriend never talks to you or your dog with such genuine care.

──────

(Y/N talking to the camera crew)

“Jim has been incredibly kind, helping me out like this. My boyfriend wouldn’t do anything like this for me,” you confess, a mix of gratitude and sadness evident in your expression.

──────

You and Jim leave the vet, checking your watch.

“Wow, 6:30 already, that was quick today,” you exhale, a small puff of steam escaping in the chilly February air. Jim chuckles, his breath forming another cloud.

“So, are you free now?” he asks, a playful smirk on his face.

“I guess so.”

“Still up for the party?” Jim kicks at a rock on the pavement.

“Alright, sounds fun,” you agree, smiling warmly at him.

You drive off, recognizing the route from earlier. Suddenly, you take a different turn, pulling up in front of what seems to be Jim’s house, glimpsing people inside having a good time.

“Here we are,” Jim announces. You get out of the car.

He holds the door open for you with a gentlemanly gesture, “After you.” You step inside to the sound of someone singing karaoke to “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers.

“Not my favorite song,” you joke, earning a laugh from Jim.

──────

(Y/N talking to the cameraman)

“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like my boyfriend isn’t really there for me… but with Jim, it’s different,” you share with the camera crew, your voice tinged with both relief and uncertainty.

──────

Jim introduces you to his roommate and his girlfriend, and you both mingle with the party guests, sipping wine and making small talk.

After some time, all of the guests has already arrived. No one else is expected.

Doorbell suddenly rings, signaling a new arrival. The roommate opens the door confused, and the camera zooms in on the newcomer’s face.

“Is Y/N here?” a familiar British voice asks. Your heart sinks, and Jim freezes at your sudden reaction.

“What?” he asks, concerned.

You rush to the door, Jim following closely behind. “David, what are you doing here?” you say, a mixture of anger and fear in your voice.

He chuckles sarcastically. “More like, what are you doing here?” You pull David aside.

“I had to take Finn to the vet, and Jim offered me a ride,” you try to explain.

“Wow! This is a hell of a vet!” He gestures wildly at Jim’s house, “Should’ve taken a fuckin’ train, bitch!” He starts shouting.

“David, did you track my phone aga— I— I can explai—” “Shut up, you whore!” David interrupts, pushing you roughly. “Fucking whore, I knew you were screwing him the whole time,” he spits out, moving toward you aggressively. You're taken aback by his blunt accusation, feeling a mix of shock and disgust that he would make such a false statement.

“It’s over, David. It’s over!” you declare.

The camera catches Jim’s tense expression as David moves closer to you again, prompting Jim to step in.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jim intervenes, pushing David away and guiding you protectively behind him. “Leave,” Jim demands calmly.

“Okay, but give me my fucking girlfriend,” David hisses.

“What is she, a fucking thing?” Jim shoots back sharply, stepping forward. It’s the first time you’ve heard Jim curse.

“Well, to me, she is—” David starts to say.

"She said it's over! Did you hear her?" Jim repeats what you said.

"Not until I say so." David spits.

“Leave,” Jim repeats firmly.

“None of your business—” David stops short, spitting in Jim’s face. Jim remains composed, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“Fucking prick with a fucking whore. Perfect match!” your now ex shouts as he storms off to his car. “Bitch, burn in hell!” he yells out of the open window as he drives away.

Jim quickly returns to you, finding you standing there, visibly shaken, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks gently. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, seeking comfort. Jim strokes your hair soothingly with one hand, the other arm around your shoulders. “It’s okay now. Everything’s fine,” he reassures you. “Thank you,” you whisper softly into his shirt.

You both stand there in a comforting embrace, surrounded by the silence of the chilly February night, illuminated by a warm streetlight. After what feels like an eternity, Jim speaks softly. “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside? It’s kind of cold out here.” You finally look up and nod, smiling faintly at him. He takes your hand in his, not intertwining fingers, but offering a protective hold, leading you back into the house. “I’ll make you some toasts, okay?”

Inside the house, apart from the roommate, no one seems to notice what just happened outside. You’re grateful no one did; it would have been embarrassing. You follow Jim to the kitchen through the living room. You lean on the counter to watch him make toasts. He tries to distract you from the recent events by explaining his toast-making technique, which surprisingly works. You can’t help stealing glances at him. He’s perfect. He’s been there for you through so much, always supportive. And that smile of his, it warms your heart.

You move to the living room together, holding your plate of toasts. You both settle on the couch, finding two free seats across from the karaoke machine. A girl joins you, curious about the gossip Jim tells you about, bringing you a coke mixed with rum you didn’t ask for but accept anyway. She leaves when the talk turns to Dwight, which she has never heard of.

Suddenly, Jim’s roommate takes the karaoke microphone, addressing Jim in front of everyone instead of taking a few steps for a private chat.

“Jim’s back, everybody!” Everyone cheers, and Darryl, Jim’s roommate, continues. “A prince on a white horse, with his rescued princess!” You look at Jim in surprise, bursting into laughter, fueled by the wine and coke you’ve been drinking. Jim looks slightly embarrassed. “Ignore him, that’s just the alcohol talking,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand.

“Come on, you haven’t sung yet tonight!” Darryl says into the mic. “Come on!” You draw out the word as you nudge Jim playfully in the shoulder. Jim sighs.

“Alright, alright,” Jim gives in, buoyed by his roommate’s friends’ enthusiasm. He gets up from beside you, heading over to the karaoke machine, where he and Darryl select a song. Your song. By Elton John.

“It’s a little bit funny…” Jim starts singing the lyrics. Some people join in, others start dancing. You sit back and watch, impressed by Jim’s singing ability, even if it’s just a little. “...You see, I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue.” Jim squints playfully, locking eyes with you as he sings, mocking the lyrics. You chuckle softly. He gestures with his free hand for you to come over to him. “...Anyway, the thing is…” You get up and join him, Jim’s arm around your shoulder. “...Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen.” His gaze shifts between your eyes. You realize it's just lyrics, but there's a subtle undertone in his delivery that suggests the lyrics might mirror his thoughts. Jim catches your hand, and you start to slow dance together, his singing still filling the room. Others begin to join in the dancing.

As Jim finishes the song, everyone cheers and claps.

“Thank you all for coming! You’ve been an amazing crowd tonight!” Jim jokes, accepting the applause graciously.

“That was really good!” You poke Jim, and he thanks you with a smile. As you both head back toward your seats, you find them occupied by other friends. You hesitate for a moment.

“Looks like we’re standing,” Jim remarks, realizing the lack of available seats. He notices how much you’ve had to drink, noticing you sway slightly, whether from the alcohol or the emotional rollercoaster of the evening.

Jim smirks to himself, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Want a tour?” he raises an eyebrow suggestively.

You look at him, a mix of surprise and anticipation. “Lead the way.” You interlace your fingers with his, feeling a slight jolt of electricity between you both, which Jim acknowledges with a subtle smirk.

As you come up the stairs, Jim begins the tour. “Here’s the bathroom,” he gestures playfully with his free hand. He leads you further, showing you Darryl’s room, then his own.

“And this is mine. I cleaned up a bit this morning; it usually doesn’t look this good,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

You release his hand, stepping into his room. You notice a guitar in the corner. “You play guitar? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jim shrugs, leaning against the doorframe. “I’d rather talk about you,” he admits softly. You feel a pang of realization, contrasting sharply with memories of your ex-boyfriend’s indifference. With Jim, you feel appreciated.

You look around Jim’s room, taking in the framed photos, medals, and posters, gaining insights into his life. You sit on the edge of his bed, noticing how comfortable it feels. “Nice bed, too,” you remark with a genuine smile.

Jim enters the room, searching in one of his drawers.

“I wanted to give you this on your birthday, but I just can’t wait to give it to you,” he says. “Okay, close your eyes, okay, I haven’t wrapped it up yet,” he lets out a soft chuckle. You do as he says. He sits next to you on the bed and hands you what feels like a jewel case, his fingers lingering on your hands longer than necessary.

"You can open them now."

You open your eyes, revealing a jewel case containing 'Hot Fuss' by The Killers CD. “No way!” you exclaim excitedly. “I— I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Thank you so much,” you stammer gratefully.

Jim smiles warmly at you, and you hug him again.

“I have a player. Want to listen to it?” he offers, taking the CD from your hand and placing it in the player. The first song begins to play, and Jim adjusts the volume. He returns to sit beside you.

“What a great taste,” he remarks casually.

“Stop,” you playfully protest.

“No, really. I mean it,” he insists, locking eyes with you. You meet his gaze, and he shifts closer. He cups your cheeks slowly with both hands, silently seeking your consent. You nod in response, and he leans in slowly, tenderly kissing you. You kiss him back, uncertain but drawn to him.

It’s okay. Everything’s fine, you reassure yourself internally, repeating what Jim said earlier. You deepen the kiss, the emotional intensity building between you both. Jim’s hands leave your face as he crawls over at you, making you lay down under him.

The cameraman discreetly decides to leave them to their private moment, closing the door for them.

THE END.

Kinda out of pocket story haha, but I hope you enjoyed it!

[jocelynscrazyideas]

I think of you, always || Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

inspired by the song affection by cigarettes after sex

Summary: After bit being able to tell the family if your bf, you meet his ex at a Christmas dinner. Getting jealous is super easy after hearing her get called pretty, you finish dinner and storm off.

Warnings: NOT PROOF READ!!! Smut, unprotected, language, harsh words towards someone.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』『 °*• ❀ •*°』 『 °*• ❀ •*°』

Meeting the family is difficult, meeting the friends is awkward. Have you thought about meeting the family when you’ve broken up a million thousand times?

Or worse, maybe the thought of being a very close family friend that is now dating one of three brothers, and now you have to “meet the family.”

Sounds easy, but once you realize the family wanted you to end up with the other brother, maybe it’s different.

Ellen and Jim, the Hughes parents, have always seen me with Luke, even Trevor. Trevor zegras is one of Jack’s hot friends that I can’t call hot. I’m 22. Fairly young. It’s forbidden to date older men, especially people the Hughes know.

The only reason why I have been chosen to have a future with the younger brother is because I’ve hung out with him more. I’ve always seen Quinn as another parent. He’s always watching out for me, he’s like another source of parenting. I didn’t hangout with him very much, until he had gotten into Michigan.

I graduated years earlier than I should have. My parents were moving to somewhere in Europe, but they were going to travel the world before they settled into the new home. So in order for me to move with them, I went homeschooled.

I got into Michigan, and I only applied to American schools, because being in Switzerland, and traveling to Monaco back in forth wasn’t fun.

Europe was only cool until my parents got a divorce. My dad also was moving to Italy after selling his home in Switzerland. Which kind of made me excited to see him. Italy is the place the Hughes spend some summers in.

~

The Hughes have been to my Monaco and newly Italian home several times. They love it there, but I get tired of it. My French is terrible, but Jack always tells me that I have an accent when I talk now because I’ve spent over half of my life in Europe. Apparently, I have a thick accent. Most of it is Italian, and a quarter of it is French, the rest is terrible English. “Say something in Spanish.” Luke mocks me.

For some reason they don’t believe me when I say I can speak four languages, “I told you, I speak French, Spanish, German, and Italian.” I roll my eyes and place the mashed potatoes onto the well decorated table.

Quinn touched my wrist, he sees that I have his very expensive watch on. I push my legging hugged ass back into his hips, he pushes back into me until Jim walks into the kitchen.

It’s an amazing Christmas break, the Devils have Christmas break at the same time as The Canucks, so everyone decided to come to Michigan and celebrate. Luke and I went down to Target to grab some cranberries for Ellen.

“I dunno why she always makes these, you hate them!” Luke laughs. He purchased the cranberry jar and stuffs it into a bag. I laugh and run my fingers through my cold brittle snowflake filled hair. “She likes them, she’s the cook, I don’t need to ask questions about her highness Hughes.” I bow and joked.

The thing about Luke, is he’s always laughing, he always understands me. Maybe that’s why Jim and Ellen love him for me? I’m not sure but I’m basically like their daughter. Somehow the boys were never my “brothers.”

I moved into their house for a year in Toronto because of my parents divorce. Jack was always at hockey, Luke never left my side and Quinn never hung out with me.

As soon as we got to the house I jumped out, and ran inside. I had the bag in my hand, Jack’s stupid shoes were sitting in the middle of the entry way.

I slipped and fell. I got up right away. The cranberries had spilled all over me from the jar. Glass crushed my hand. I don’t feel the pain, but as soon as Ellen comes rushing over from the kitchen I feel sharp tense pain in my wrist, and ass.

Luke runs in after me as he locks the car. He holds me up. He goes to grab the bandage kit they store in a closet. Ellen goes to grab the broom, and Quinn runs over to me to clean me up. Jim and Jack run out to get more cranberry jars for tonight’s big dinner.

I don’t question to holding onto Q for support, he brings me upstairs to his room. He sits me onto his bathroom counter and I feel my now bruised ass press agisnt the cold counter top.

Luke left us some bandages for Quinn to use on me. Luke left to go help his mother clean. Quinn and I are left alone.

~

It’s been 2 months of Quinn and I’s relationship. We haven’t told anybody, but it’s Halloween and I wnat a couple costume. Obviously I want to post the costumes for this year, so I’m left to wear something by myself.

~

Quinn kissed my cold cheek leaving a warm impression on my flushed face. He wraps my hand in pink bandage, and he helps me take my shoes and leggings off. Quinn changes me into some of his sweatpants, and a large shirt he has.

“Do you what them to know?” I ask.

Quinn pulled me into a warm hug. “Not yet, I’m not sure if my dad would be happy I’m the one you chose.” He rested his chin on top of my head.

“Well they will know because I have your clothes on, and they reek of your strong cologne.” I laugh. He holds my head as if i have a terrible headache.

He kissed my lips and carried me out of his personal bathroom. I walk to my room, and change into this gorgeous red dress, nice and lacy. I grab an ugly sweater and pull it over my head. Quinn changed into fancy- casual clothing to match my outfit.

We walk downstairs into a beautiful dining room, with a large Christmas tree that hangs fabulous ornaments that hold pictures of our childhood pictures. I notice that Ellen has labeled our sitting spots at the table.

I’m next to Jack, Luke next to my left, and quinn across from me. Ellen faces Jack, while Jim is sitting at the head, and the table is pressed up to the wall. So no one is sitting at the opposite side of Jim. There is an empty seat, I thought it was weird- Ellen never has an empty chair for family gatherings.

We stay eating, we pass peas, toast, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cheese on a stick. Then we hear the door bell ring.

I thought, “Christmas carolers.”

no

“Mom?” Quinn gets up quickly. Ellen has been outside for a few minutes. She finally comes in. She grunts in frustration.”hey Quinn.” One of many the pretty girls Quinn has had a relationship with says. She walks up to him, hugs him and sets her bags down.

“You can sit here, and I’ll take Quinn’s seat.” Ellen nods,

“Mom! You knew about this?” Quinn drags her over to the Christmas tree. He lowered his voice.

Am I nervous that Quinn’s ex-girlfriend is here- while we just kissed upstairs, and to mention… He’s my boyfriend.

yes. Yes I’m petrified.

“Of course I did Quinn. She loves you still. I’m your mother. Switch seats with me.” Ellen walks him back to the table, straightening his ugly sweater on him.

“No. I like where I am.” Quinn sits down at his original seat. He places his foot on mine, letting me know he’s with me.

“Pretty.” I mouth to Quinn. He nods his head in agreement. He winks at me and he starts playing footsie with me. My dress folds right at the cut of my hip and thighs. Very short dress for a winter party.

Classical winter music continues over our dinner. Jim laughs at everything Jack says, Luke looks at me when I eat. I look at Luke when he eats. It’s just as if we’re still little and we fling Mac and cheese at eachother.

“Grub bub.” Luke laughs while drinking his apple cider. I laugh so hard I snort, Quinn starts laughing at me. Jack holds me in and sways me around. Yep, he’s drunk.

Ellen noticed the few glances Quinn and I make.

~

“Why don’t you help me clean up?” Jim waves Ellen up. We dismiss ourselves and we go back to our rooms. Quinn, well he takes his ex’s bags up to the guest room.

While they walk up here, “oh. I love that room, may I stay in it?” She walks into my room, and lays on the bed. “Comfy!” She giggles. I walk out if my closet, I suck my teeth this selfish bitch is in my bed.

“what. the. fuck.” I laugh in a rude manner. I see Quinn astonished, his mouth open. And so were her legs.

I push quinn out. I yell in his face, “get her up, or I’ll handle it myself.”

You could say I get jealous, but why did he seemed to enjoy it?

Ellen came running upstairs, “oh my!” Ellen grabs the girl out from her arm. She takes her bags and leads her to the basement guest room.

I was angry, I walking away. I had on a lacy black thong, and a navy blue spaghetti strap tank top, and some white sweat shorts on. The thong sits on my hips, and the shorts sit right on my pelvis bone. Most of my underwear was out. I ddint give a fuck. I had no bra on- “wow” Jack says while he walks his way to his own room.

“Nice one” Jack laughs at Quinn. Quinn watches me sit down in the living room couch, I turn the TV on. He comes running down to sit with me.

“Baby, come on. What was I supposed to do?” He whines.

I roll my eyes, “uh, I’m not sure- not let her walk into a room?! Im even more mad by the fact she had her legs spread open for you, and her boobs- Her Boobs! They were just out, it wasn’t her underboob or sideboob- I saw nips.” I yell out in frustration.

I get up and slide slippers on.

I get my keys and run out the door. I go for a drive, “wait no!” Quinn runs after me. I have slammed the door on his face.

~

After awhile- no phone, no internet, no way to find me, Quinn pulls his car right up next to me. Jack sits passenger. “What the hell?!” Quinn knocks on my window.

“Oh goodness! Thought you were a murderire!” I gasp.

“No. You don’t get to do that.” He yells- flailing his arms around. I see his breathe in the air. Quinn knocks on the door.

I roll down the window. Quinn bends down to see me. He kissed my face.

“I told Jack about us. Luke is pampering my “ psychotic bitchy ex” and my mom is waiting for us with hot chocolate.”

“What about-“

“Dad? Yeah no he’s gone. He’s sleeping away from his drunkness. And Jack can drive home because I sobered him up with the news about us.” Quinn rushes over the empty parking lot towards to Jack.

“Go. I’ll talk her back home.” Quinn whispered and nods his head at me. Jack crawls to the driver seat.

“You know her well Quinn! The only way to get back home is to hit 3rd base!” Jack yells out the window while pulling away. Quinn sits in the passenger seat of my car.

We’re alone in a parking lot inside a freezing car because my heater broke, and it’s the middle of winter with tons of axe murderres.

“He’s not wrong.” I look at Quinn.

Quinn mumbles, “mhm. I know.” He slides his hand onto my thigh.

I crawl to the backseat. My back hits the cold interior of the car. Quinn climbs ontop of me. He slides my tank top up, seeing my bare hard niopples. “Oh baby.” Quinn starts sucking on one. He slides a hand into my shorts.

I feel his warm but very cold hand touch my sensitive bud. He starts rubbing into my clit, he moans while he sticks one finger into my hole. He came up from my chest- he starts aggressively kissing me.

My tounge hitting his throat, his cum covered finger slides into my mouth. I suck onto my pussy juiced cover finger and Quinn unbuttons his dress pants. I feel his hard groin hit my bare torso. He’s hard- for me.

“Quinn-“ he holds my hands up with one of his own hand. He pulls off my shorts, he sees my new thong. “Impressive.” He moans. I sit up against the door. The windows are white, but not from the frost- but from our hard breathing.

Quinn stuffs his face into my pussy as if he’s still hungry from dinner. I start to cum, but Quinn pulls away from me. He holds my hand as I start rubbing myself. With his other hand, Quinn jerks iff to start some lubricant.

He starts rocking his hips into mine. I feel his cold tip touch what feels like my lungs. He holds my legs up. I know the car is rocking a ton. But I love it.

~

Quinn slaps my ass while I’m in doggy style. He fucks me hard, and he gets tired after a good 47 minutes.

~

I hope I get to finish him. I start sucking off his cum and playing with his sensitive balls. He leans his head back, letting me crawl up onto his chest. His phone rings.

“Hey dad? Whats wrong?”

“Where are you? Is y/n coming back?” Jim yells through the phone. I can hear the worry in his voice.

“Dad. Y/n. She’s fine.” I cut him off by kissing him. I turn our camera on and see Jim. Ellen is in the corner of the camera and screams. She jumps up and down.

“I knew you’d end up with one of my boys!” She smiled. She runs up to Jack and he twirls her around. Luke winks at us through the camera.

~

Quinn cuddles me in bed and warms my back up. I feel his warmth and love, I wish we announced our relationship before the dinner.

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓮ighteen.

daryl dixon and jealousy.

it had been happening more and more lately - this strange distance that seemed to creep in between you and daryl, settling into the spaces where you used to find easy conversation and shared glances. it wasn’t obvious at first; it was subtle, just a shift in the way his eyes wouldn’t linger on you as long, or how he would walk off without a word right after talking to you.

like today. you had been standing near the campfire, listening to jim explain his plans for fortifying the perimeter. it was a practical conversation, nothing out of the ordinary, but you could feel daryl’s gaze on you from across the camp.

when you finally glanced his way, he was already turning on his heel and heading off toward the treeline, his back stiff and his steps heavy. you hesitated for a moment, your brow furrowing, before excusing yourself from the conversation with jim.

you caught up with daryl a little ways out, where the camp started to fade into the woods. he was crouched down, messing with his crossbow strap, but there was something almost too deliberate in the way he fiddled with it.

“hey,” you said, stepping closer. “you’ve been disappearing a lot lately.”

“had stuff to do,” he replied without looking up, his tone rough and clipped.

you exhaled slowly. “you didn’t have to leave back there. jim was just talking about the camp’s defenses.”

“yeah, i heard,” daryl muttered, standing up and slinging the crossbow over his shoulder. “figured you had it covered.”

something in his voice stung, a hint of dismissiveness that made your chest tighten. you stepped in front of him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “what’s going on with you lately?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended. “you’ve been… distant.”

his gaze flicked away from yours, his jaw tightening. “ain’t distant,” he grumbled, trying to sidestep you.

“you are,” you insisted, taking a step to block him again. “if there’s something you’re not telling me - ”

“ain’t nothin’ to tell,” he interrupted, his tone sharper now. “just don’t got time to be hangin’ around talkin’ all day.”

you flinched at the way he brushed you off, the words hitting harder than you expected. “right,” you said quietly, feeling a bitter edge rise in your throat. “wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

daryl’s expression faltered for a split second, his eyes searching your face before his brow furrowed again. “didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbled, but there was still a tension in his stance, a reluctance that didn’t quite go away.

the silence stretched between you, heavy and unspoken, before daryl shook his head and turned to walk away again. this time, you didn’t follow him.

over the next couple of days, things didn’t improve. if anything, it got worse. you would catch him looking your way when he thought you weren’t paying attention, his expression almost unreadable, but whenever you tried to talk to him, he seemed to find some excuse to leave.

it wasn’t until a week later, when you were sitting on the outskirts of camp, that it all came to a head. you had been talking with jim again, going over the same defense plans - honestly, it was just to fill the silence in your day. but the whole time, you were acutely aware of daryl’s presence across the camp, the way he was watching you.

as jim finally wandered off, daryl approached, his strides purposeful. there was something different in his posture - something coiled tight, like a spring.

“he’s got you talkin’ his ear off every damn day now,” he said, his voice low and rough. “didn’t know you had so much to say about barbed wire.”

you blinked, taken aback by the tone in his voice. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice edging with confusion.

“just seems like you found yourself a real good listener, is all,” he replied, not quite looking at you. “thought maybe you’d rather be talkin’ to him than wastin’ time on me.”

the words hit you like a slap, the bitterness in his tone cutting deeper than you expected. you opened your mouth to argue, to defend yourself, but the sting in your chest was making it hard to find the right words.

“that’s not - ” your voice wavered, and you hated how small it sounded. “why would you say that?”

daryl’s gaze finally met yours, but there was a darkness in his eyes, something wounded and raw. “don’t matter, does it?” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “you’re off talkin’ with whoever you want, don’t need me gettin’ in the way.”

the hurt welled up in your chest, stinging hot behind your eyes. you took a step back, your breath catching. “that’s not fair,” you managed to choke out, your voice breaking as tears blurred your vision. “you know that’s not true.”

he saw the tears brimming in your eyes, and the tension drained from his shoulders almost immediately, replaced by a look of sudden regret. “hell, i didn’t mean to - ” he started, his tone shifting softer, almost desperate. “i shouldn’t’ve said that.”

you shook your head, trying to blink away the tears. “then why did you?”

daryl let out a harsh breath, running a hand over his face. “because - ” he hesitated, like the words were fighting to stay locked behind his teeth. “because i keep seein’ you with him, and it’s like… i dunno. like you don’t even notice i’m around anymore.”

the confession hung in the air between you, heavy and vulnerable, and it was the closest he’d come to admitting how much he cared. it made your heart ache in a different way, the kind that was sweet and painful all at once.

“of course i notice you,” you whispered, your voice still trembling. “you’re the only one i’m always looking for.”

daryl’s eyes met yours again, and this time, there was no mistaking the relief in his expression, the way his features softened as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. “yeah?” he asked quietly, like he needed to hear you say it again.

you nodded, taking a step closer. “yeah,” you murmured. “but you’ve been pulling away, and i thought… i thought maybe you didn’t want me around anymore.”

“damn it,” daryl muttered under his breath, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped. “you think i’d ever push you away if i didn’t have to?” his voice was low and sincere, roughened by emotion.

your breath hitched as you leaned into his touch, your hand coming up to rest over his. “then don’t,” you whispered. “don’t push me away.”

for a moment, the only sound was the quiet rustling of the wind through the trees. then daryl leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “shouldn’t’ve said any of that… should’ve just told you what i was feelin’.”

“it’s okay,” you breathed, closing your eyes as you savored the warmth of his touch. “just… don’t make me wonder again.”

“never,” he promised, his hand gently slipping behind your neck as he pulled you into a tender, lingering kiss, the kind that spoke all the words you both had been too afraid to say.

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[yuki2sksksk]

[ Trollhunter Guardian (Y/n) ]

Centuries ago

" Must you play with your hunt? " The scolding in your voice holds no pressure, only bits of annoyance as you stare at the deer corpse on your feet.

Angor glances at you over his shoulder, still having his hands in the river as the blood slowly leaves his stone skin through the streaming water. You kneel down, trailing over the body of the animal. It's easy to detect the signs of a struggling animal before it was slaughtered.

" You led this ran into a quicksand. " You mutter, glancing at the stain on the legs.

" That I did. "

" You could've killed it right away. " Because you know he's so stealthy and quick on his feet.

" That I didn't. "

Angor Rot huffs out a chuckle at the glare you give him. He straightens up, flicking the water off his now cleaned hands before turning around.

He lowers himself next to you. " This one is a beau, and a healthy one at that. I could not help myself. "

You have to agree with him. It's not everyday you get to see a thriving looking deer like this, with a glistening thick coat that you can whip up as gloves and tool straps. Not to mention the antlers...potion worth ingredients. You're not even specialized much in potion brewing but with an ingredient like this, the success rate is high.

A soft sigh escapes you. " We have a different view of how to have fun. "

" Contrast to what you may think, I am rather picky with how I play my game. " He settles a hand to your lower back. " The more curious I get, the longer it goes. "

A shudder runs through you at the way he brushes his thumb against your clothed spine.

" A quick finish is better, in my opinion." The words sound like a suggestion. It brings a smirk on his face.

" Where's the fun in that? "

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Modern era

" He's not going to kill you. At least, not right away. " You hum, stirring the spoon in your steaming mug of tea.

Jim looks rather horrified at your laid back response. " Why are you so calm about this? "

" I am not. I am actually terrified. "

" Wow, I can really tell. "

Your lips twitch upwards just slightly. You couldn't blame him for being a nervous wreck, not when the assassin just showed up at his school and had him fight a magic golem. The very magic method you taught the troll.

Sipping your drink, your eyes dart back to the anxious teenager staring at you for solution and comfort. You knew you could only provide one.

" You need to be calm when facing Angor Rot. A slip up can cost your life. " You put down your mug, the liquid in it moves slightly to the hidden shaking of your hand.

" I can hardly risk any slip ups with being the Trollhunter. " Jim grumbles. " So if you have any advice on how to take on this guy, that would be appreciated. "

You smile. " As your Guardian, I am here to help. You don't have to worry much about Angor Rot when I am here. You may as well be his target, but..."

You tilt your head, a dazed look in your eyes for a second. When you focus back on the boy, your smile widens.

" I am his favorite to hunt. "

[jimsbeetroot]

In spirit of the holidays could you write a fluffy smut with either Jim or Joey (both works too) please, I love your work and you are one of my favorite writers I hope you have a wonderful day! 😁

sorry for the delay!!

snowbound ♱ jim root

warnings! smut!

Snow clings to the windowpane in thick, feathery clusters, illuminated by the warm glow of the streetlights. Inside, the air is thick with heat, the scent of pine, whiskey, and the lingering burn of a fireplace filling the room. The only sound—besides the occasional crackle of a log shifting in the embers—is the low murmur of a bluesy holiday record spinning on the turntable.

Jim leans back on the couch, one long arm draped lazily across the backrest. His whiskey glass is half-full, the amber liquid catching the flickering light. He watches you with an easy smirk, all lazy indulgence, like he’s got nowhere to be but here, doing exactly this—watching you curled up beside him in one of his old tour hoodies, the fabric oversized and swallowing you whole.

“You look ridiculous in that,” he murmurs, voice deep and rough around the edges.

You scoff. “Says the guy in reindeer socks.”

Jim glances down at his feet—black socks with tiny, cartoonish reindeer scattered across the fabric. He huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “Corey stuffed them in my stocking last year. Bastard knew I’d wear ‘em.”

You grin, shifting closer until your knee presses against his thigh. “They’re cute.”

He raises a brow, smirk deepening. “You got a thing for reindeer now?”

You hum thoughtfully. “Maybe just the ones that play guitar.”

Jim chuckles, setting his whiskey aside before tugging you into his lap without warning. You yelp, hands bracing against his chest, but he’s already settling you against him, one arm banded firmly around your waist. His other hand comes up, fingers brushing your jaw before he tilts your face toward his.

“Yeah?” His voice is low, teasing. “You wanna sit here and talk about socks, or do you wanna let me do what I’ve been thinking about all night?”

Your pulse kicks, heat curling in your belly. “And what’s that?”

He doesn’t answer—not with words, anyway. His mouth finds yours, slow at first, teasing, the scrape of his beard against your skin just enough to make you shiver. He tastes like whiskey and something darker, something entirely him. His hand slips beneath the hoodie, fingers tracing the warm skin at your lower back, sending sparks up your spine.

You sigh against his lips, rolling your hips just enough to feel the hard press of him beneath you. Jim groans softly, grip tightening. “Fuck, baby.” His voice is all gravel, rough and wanting. “You keep that up, and we’re not making it to the bedroom.”

The idea of him taking you right here, in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, is almost enough to make you keep going—but there’s something about the idea of being tangled up with him under the warm covers, the winter night pressing against the windows, that makes you want to draw this out.

You grin, nipping at his bottom lip before sliding off his lap. “Then maybe we should move.”

Jim groans but follows without hesitation, his large hands gripping your hips as he guides you toward the bedroom. The moment you step inside, he’s on you again—lips insistent, hands greedy as he pushes the hoodie up and over your head, leaving you bare beneath him.

His breath catches. “Jesus.” His hands roam, slow and reverent, over the newly exposed skin, thumbs brushing over your nipples before he cups your breasts, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers. You whimper, arching into his touch, and he groans, dipping his head to capture one in his mouth. His tongue is hot, wet, teasing, his teeth grazing just enough to send a bolt of pleasure straight to your core.

“Jim,” you gasp, fingers tangling in his curls.

He hums against your skin before pulling back, blue eyes dark with need. “Lie back for me, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, sinking into the mattress, and Jim follows, settling between your thighs. He makes quick work of his shirt, tossing it aside before pressing his body against yours, skin on skin, heat and want.

His fingers trail lower, teasing over your stomach before slipping between your legs. He groans when he finds you wet, slick and ready for him. “Fuck, baby. That all for me?”

You whimper, hips canting into his touch. “Jim, please—”

He doesn’t make you beg. Two long fingers slip inside, curling just right, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. His mouth follows, lips and tongue teasing over your throat, your collarbone, the curve of your breast, until your back is arching and your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing another finger inside, stretching you just enough to make you moan. “So wet, so fucking tight. You gonna let me fuck you, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathe, nails digging into his shoulders. “God, yes.”

Jim curses under his breath before pulling back just enough to shed the rest of his clothes. The sight of him—long and hard, the flush of arousal dark against his pale skin—sends a fresh wave of heat crashing over you.

He doesn’t waste time. He kneels between your thighs, gripping them as he lines himself up, teasing the head of his cock against your entrance before pushing inside, slow and deliberate, stretching you inch by inch.

You gasp, nails raking down his back as he fills you completely. Jim groans, dropping his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. “Fuck. You feel so goddamn good.”

He stills for a moment, letting you adjust, but when you roll your hips—silently begging for more—he gives it to you.

His thrusts are slow at first, deep and measured, drawing out every bit of pleasure until you’re trembling beneath him. But soon, the restraint starts to crack. His hands grip your hips tighter, his pace quickening, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

“You take me so fucking well,” he growls, voice rough, eyes locked on yours. “God, you’re perfect.”

You moan his name, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him even deeper. The pressure builds, white-hot and all-consuming, and Jim feels it, feels you clenching around him, your breath coming in short, broken gasps.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his thumb to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you shatter, pleasure crashing over you in waves. Jim groans at the feeling, his pace faltering, his body tensing before he follows you over the edge, spilling inside you with a deep, guttural moan.

For a long moment, the only sound is the heavy rhythm of your breathing, the distant crackle of the fireplace in the other room. Jim presses a slow, lingering kiss to your temple before rolling onto his side, pulling you with him.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice softer now, the rough edges smoothed by exhaustion.

You nod, curling into his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. “More than okay.”

Jim chuckles, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Merry fucking Christmas, baby.”

You grin, pressing a sleepy kiss to his collarbone. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

And outside, the snow keeps falling, but in here, wrapped in Jim’s warmth, the night is nothing but heat.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

thanks for replying, i really appreciate it :D! my request has to do with jim hawkins and reader who’s the daughter of delbert doppler and is very shy around him, i’m ok with the plot being anything, thank you!

A/N: I started writing this a while ago but for some reason I just couldn't settle on a format OR a plot. But I decided to clear out my drafts and coming across this with a fresh mind definitely helped smooth things along. I settled for headcannons, along with a lot of other descriptions just to get a feel on the relationship Jim has with the reader. Mid write into this and a NSFW version smacked my writer brain so I’ll probably write that if it’s interesting enough to read too. This is set before the movie! I am SO sorry for such a long wait, I really hope you enjoy!

Jim Hawkins x Fem! Doppler daughter reader!

Warnings: Fluff, teasing, Jim being a trouble maker, good girl x bad boy trope, sneaky jim >>>

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

PINNING!

Jim had noticed you for quite some time before it came to actually making a move on you

He knew you were shy, you were shy with everyone, but with him it seemed you just tried to disappear right into yourself

He didn't really understand why, so he went to his mom about it

Her answer? She probably likes you

Well that was a first

He doubted it at first, and unconsciously started doing things to test this theory. To see if you really did like him

But the more he tried not to like you too, the more he did

He knew Delbert was gonna kill him if he found out Jim liked his daughter

but what else was he supposed to do? he couldn’t ignore you, not when he loved the reaction of you getting so shy on him

He asks you out late at night, Delbert is talking to his mother and he thinks it’s the perfect time

He sneaks in through one of the open windows of the small house, the soft sound of music in the background comforting to him

He sees you standing in the kitchen, drying a the last few dishes with a small smile on your face

“Hey Y/n.” Jim says in your ear, and you jump

“J-Jim! Don’t do that, you scared me.” She says, a hand on her chest to calm her breathing

“Sorry sorry, you’re easy to scare.” He says, before he sees your eyes looking at the hand he has tucked behind his back

“What do you have?” You ask quietly, and he smiles at the blush that creeps up onto your face

“Look, Y/n, I-“ He pauses, nervous. “I know I’m probably the last person you’d want to ask you this but, I really like you.” He says, pulling out a few flowers from behind him holding it between the two of you. “I really want to take you out. If you’d let me, of course.” He says, his head dipping a bit. He might get in trouble a lot but he still respects you

“Jim, I’d love too.” You say, you’re quiet and shy about it, leaning into your shoulder with a smile. He grins wide and hands you the flowers, watching as you go to put them in a vase.

DATING HIM:

He drags you out with him sometimes, and most of the time you stop him from getting in trouble

Even after you two start dating you still get so shy on him

He actually likes it, and he teases you for it a TON

He’ll purposely get your attention by taking things from you just to get you flustered

His mother loves you >>>

[anotherjheastan]

Another Complicated Love Story

A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

Chapter 2 Part 2 | Masterlist

CW mentions sex, fluff

Author’s Note: Rhea’s dreams at the end are related to the last movie they watch in case you haven’t seen it.

Chapter 3: Girls’ Night

Saturday, December 7, 2024

“Rhea!!!” Naomi cheered after she opened the door.

“Naomi!!!” Rhea replied excitedly. They hugged. Naomi moved to the side to let Rhea and Jey in.

“Hi Jey,” Naomi said matter-of-factly.

“Hi Naomi,” Jey said. “Nice to see you too.”

“I see you all the time,” Naomi said. “Big Momma! We’re gonna have fun.”

Jimmy greeted Rhea and Jey. Jey set Rhea’s bag down by the couch. Rhea was looking forward to hanging out with Naomi. It had been a while since she had a girls night, not to mention a sleepover. Jey and Jimmy would be going over to Jey’s to hang out and they would spend the night there. Jimmy still had to take it easy with his broken toe. Rhea ignored the tiny ache of sadness in her heart. She and Jey had been inseparable since Thursday. This would be their first night apart. She felt ridiculous for being even a little sad.

Rhea stood close to Jey in the kitchen while he got the two of them something to drink. Naomi and Jimmy were in the kitchen not too far away from them mumbling something. Jey handed her a glass of lemonade.

“Thanks,” Rhea said, smiling. She took a sip.

Jey smiled and drank from his glass.

“Oh y’all finally had sex,” Naomi said.

Jey made a weird gurgling sound and started coughing. He put down his glass. Rhea looked wide eyed between Jey and Naomi. Her face went red.

Naomi held out her hand and Jimmy sighed. He pulled out his wallet and gave her a twenty dollar bill.

“How did you know?” Rhea asked. She pushed down a memory of a similar conversation she had had with her mom a long time ago.

“Y’all are moving differently now,” Naomi said. “Y’all are both way more relaxed. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

“Not me,” Jimmy said. “I lost $20. I also said not to say anything right now.”

“Are you okay?” Rhea asked Jey. She rubbed his back.

He nodded. “Well, maybe we should head out, Jim.”

“Yeah especially since y’all were late,” Naomi said. “Is that what y’all were doing?”

Rhea looked at the floor, trying not to laugh. Because that was, in fact, why they were late. Jey rolled his eyes.

“Nae, you gotta chill,” Jey said.

“I’m sorry,” Naomi said, holding her hands up.

“Don’t let her bully you,” Jey said, pulling Rhea to him, his hands resting on her hips.

“I won’t,” Rhea said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Have fun.”

“You too,” he said.

They kissed and Rhea felt the ache in her heart grow a little bit.

“See you in the morning,” he said. Rhea could tell he was gonna miss her too.

“Bye,” Rhea said.

Naomi hugged and kissed Jimmy goodbye and the boys were off.

“So things are going well?” Naomi said as they sat on the couch.

Rhea sat down next to her, lemonade in hand.

“Yep,” Rhea said, smiling.

“Are y’all official yet?” Naomi asked, grinning.

“No,” Rhea said.

Naomi let out an exasperated sigh and Rhea laughed.

“We’re just not ready yet. Or maybe it’s more on me,” Rhea said. “But it’ll happen soon.”

“Don’t let me or anyone else pressure you. I’m just rooting for y’all.”

“Thanks Nae,” Rhea said. “How are things with you and Jimmy?”

“They’re good,” Naomi said. “I can’t complain.”

“Sorry about your match yesterday. You know Jey and I were rooting for you.”

“Thanks, Big Momma. I’m not worried. My time is coming.”

“We’ll both be holding gold soon,” Rhea said.

Naomi put her arm around Rhea’s shoulders. “Can’t wait to see you kick Raquel’s ass on Monday. That will make me feel better.”

Rhea laughed. “I got you.”

“So are we still watching these movies? Smile 2 and Meet Me Next Christmas?”

“Yep,” Rhea agreed.

“Wait, let’s get comfy first.”

They went and changed into their pajamas and Naomi pulled out some blankets. They settled into the couch. They played Smile 2 first. Naomi was jumping and holding onto Rhea, but at the end, Naomi said she actually liked it.

While getting popcorn and wine ready for the next movie, Jimmy and Jey sent them some silly pictures. They were grilling by Jey’s apartment. The food did look good. Naomi texted Jimmy, telling him to bring home a plate.

Jey sent Rhea a message: Missing you already 🖤

Rhea smiled and replied: Missing you too 💙

“Now I have those goofy pictures don’t have you smiling like that,” Naomi said.

“He said missing you already. I told him I missed him too,” Rhea said.

“Aww y’all are so cute! You really like him.”

“I love him,” Rhea said, staring at her phone. When she realized what she said, her head snapped up at Naomi, who was standing there with her mouth open.

“I didn’t…I-I…don’t say anything, please Naomi,” Rhea said. “I haven’t said that to him.”

“I promise I won’t tell,” Naomi said.

“Not even a hint?” Rhea asked, holding out her pinky.

“Not even a hint,” Naomi agreed, linking her pinky with Rhea’s.

“Besides, it’s way too early,” Rhea said, after they separated. “We’re not even together.” She gulped down a lot of red wine.

Instead of placing the bottle back in the fridge, Naomi refilled Rhea’s glass.

“If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel,” Naomi said. “Life is short and the world’s a little wild…I’m not rushing you. I’m just saying.”

Rhea ate some popcorn and sighed. She couldn’t believe she said that. She had thought it a few times when she and Jey were together, but she never imagined it would just slip out like that.

As Rhea and Naomi settled into the couch for the rom com, she tried to ignore the nervousness she felt. Rhea was wondering what would happen if she slipped up in front of Jey? She should just tell him now? What if he ran?

Naomi touched Rhea’s shoulder and Rhea’s thoughts quieted. She looked at Naomi.

“I know rom coms aren’t your favorite, but we just started the movie and you look like you’re gonna vomit. What’s wrong? Is it the L-word situation?”

Rhea nodded. “What if I say it in front of Jey?”

“What if he says it back?” Naomi asked.

Rhea felt a knot form in her stomach. “I’m just not ready.”

Love meant a serious relationship. Love meant trust. And betrayal and heartbreak loomed nearby. But she could trust Jey. She did trust him. Didn’t she?

“Forget Jey. Jimmy who? This is girls night. Let’s watch this rom com cuz it’s been on my list. And then we can do some karaoke. I’ll even be brave and let you put on another scary movie.”

Rhea smiled. “I’m good. Karaoke does sound fun though.”

“Bet,” Naomi said.

They watched the rom com. Tipsy on wine and full of popcorn, they pulled up karaoke songs and sang and danced for a good hour.

Naomi ordered some wings and fries. They let Law and Order SVU reruns play while waiting for the food, trying to decide their final movie for the night.

“Ooo have you seen Everything, All Over?” Naomi asked.

“That’s a movie?” Rhea asked, laughing.

“No, it’s...Everything, Everywhere, All…at Once?”

“No.”

“It’s great. You’ll love it. If we stay awake,” Naomi said.

“Cool. Let’s watch it.”

Naomi fell asleep halfway through the movie. Rhea enjoyed it. It was surprisingly heartwarming even if it was a little weird, but Rhea liked weird. Rhea’s eyes felt heavy as the credits started rolling. They hadn’t planned on sleeping the couch, but fortunately it was big and comfortable. Jimmy and Jey were talking them out for breakfast tomorrow. She smiled thinking about Jey. She fell asleep and dreamed about her and Jey having hot dog fingers. Then they were both rocks and a little bubble appeared above his head that said “I love you.” A bubble appeared above Rhea’s head that said “You rock.”

[darthannie]

assess and discuss

part three of thesis statement

(part II) (part I)

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader

Word count: 2,860

Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is 24, Jim is 43), fluffy, kissing, mentions of submission

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! Here's my gift to you. Sorry updates have been slow. I'm really trying! There's not really any smut in this one. It's all plot and fluff baby! I hope you enjoy.

It’s been a week since your’ve seen him and a week since you’ve spoken to him. You’ve been counting the days on your calendar as they went by. 

You skipped out on class yesterday, deciding you couldn’t face him just yet. But, there was no way of avoiding him today. That was one of the benefits of taking both of his seminars this term. Usually seeing him twice a week made getting up in the morning worth it. Now, it felt like a death sentence. 

He’s texted you since you last saw him. He asked how you were and if you’d thought about what he said to you. Then it was radio silence. In all honesty, you had thought about it and you wanted to take him up on it. Setting boundaries was important, you thought and that could only happen if you sat down and laid it all out. You felt you had to tell him in person. So here you were, on campus on a Friday morning, coffee in hand and ready to mention having that conversation. Having that conversation in the classroom was a bit uncooth, so you thought it better to ease into it. You didn’t want anyone suspecting anything. Not admin, not your classmates, not even Nadia but you knew that wasn’t an option. She was the first person to know what was going on. You told each other everything. 

You walked into an empty classroom and took your usual seat. After a few minutes you were finally all set up and were browsing on your laptop. Nadia arrived a couple minutes into you scrolling on Etsy. 

“Hey! I thought you fell off the face of the earth I haven’t heard from you.”

“Hey, Nadia. Sorry, I’ve just been kinda preoccupied.” In reality you had been isolating. The time you spent with Jim left you with a large weight on your conscience. Not only did you have your heavy course load to keep in mind, you had this force looming over you. Him. You had no idea what to make of it. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She was always genuine when she said things like this. She missed you and hated when you pulled away but she knew it was better to give you space. 

“God, yes, I need to talk about it.”

“Spill.” 

In a hushed voice you began. “We saw each other and we...”

“You and Jim?” Yiou nodded at her words. The excitement on her face was easy to place. She was thrilled for you. 

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Yes fuckin’ way.” 

“Is that why he cancelled class?”

“Yep.” 

“YOU’RE KIDDING.” Nadia’s eyebrows rose and she leaned forward as the door behind her opened up. Jim walked in wearing a white oxford shirt tucked into tailored pants. He looked rather put together, and you couldn’t help but swallow nernously. Your attraction to him was undeniable. 

Nadia turned to see who walked in and faced you again, covering her mouth, and noting that she was a bit too loud. 

“Oops,” she said. 

“Nadia…,” I replied, less of a warning and more of a suggestion to keep it cool.

“Good morning, ladies.” Jim nonchallantly addressed you and Nadia as he settled in. 

“Hi, Jim,” Nadia chirped, “Was everything alright last week?” She asked it innocently enough, but you knew she was trying to rustle your feathers. 

“Oh, yeah, just a family emergency.”

“Oh no, is everything alright?” Nadia elbowed your arm and smirked. You hit her arm and he turned around to face the two of you. 

“Yes, everything’s alright now. Just had to help my sister with her kids.”

“Right, well I’m glad to hear it’s everything is alright.” Nadia smiled at him politely. 

He smiled back and then turned his attention to you. He said, “And, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Your skin felt hot. He looked nervous.

“Listen, I was reading over the piece you sent me and I have some suggestions. I think with a bit of work we, you, could submit for publication.” You had forgotten that you had even sent him your work. He reminded you to before you left his home and now you were glad that he did. 

“Really?”

He nodded. “See me after, we’ll go though it quickly.”

“Well, alright.” You sank into your seat and looked at Nadia. She gave you a knowing look as more stidents started to file in.

What followed was an hour and fourty-five minutes of avoidance. You participated as usual but there was no usual back and fort between the two of you. The bare minimum was what you wanted to give and it was what you achieved. 

Class ended and a couple peers stayed after to discuss their notes with Jim. You and Nadia milled about talking about going out later that night. You got distracted and watched as Jim talked to his students about their work. His passion for teaching was so apparent, it made you feel almost proud watching him. You smiled to yourself and turned your attention to Nadia again, agreeing to a time to meet for pres at a local bar before going dancing.

She left and the student who was talking to Jim left right behind her. Jim walked over to the door and looked through the window. There was no one in the hall. You were stood away from the door and as you began to speak about the essay you sent when you felt his hands grab your face and pull you towards him. He laned a small kiss before you pushed him away slightly. 

“Cameras,” you whisper shouted.

“Old building. There are none in this room.” 

You stared at him, sedated by his kiss. When his words registered it was your turn to pull him in, wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him hard. He walked you backward until your back hit the wall. Jim’s hardening cock pressed against you. He pulled away and clearned this throat, realising he needed to calm down.

“You, um, wanted to talk to me about my work?” The eye contact you held was sharp, intimate. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” he stepped back and walked towards his things, grabbing a manila folder and handing it to you. My annotations and comments are all in there. All five essays. They’re good. Really damn good.”

“Thank you. I’m excited to look over them.”

“I look forward to reading the next drafts.” 

You stared at each other for a moment before you both developed smiles. You were almost to the point of giggiling. This was fun. It had never occured to you that what you two were doing could be fun. Genuine fun. A small laugh escaped your lips and you looked towards the ground. 

“Jim, we need to talk about this.” You looked back up at him, hopeful that he would be receptive. 

“Come over tonight. We’ll be able to talk all about it.” Jim chuckled and got close to you lifted your chin so your eyes met his. 

“I’m seeing Nadia tonight. We’re going out.”

“See me before you go out then. We’ll have a good time.”

“Doing what?” You tried to bait him by getting close to his face, your lips almost meeting his.

“Just talking.”

“Right. Just talking.” You rolled your eyes and he moved his hand to caress your neck. 

“I’m serious. We’re just talking,” his thumb smoothed over your cheek as he continued, “I’m not going any further until we decide on what exactly this is and how we’re going to go about it. Is that okay?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you replied, “Yes.”

Then, rather nonchalantly, he replied, “Good girl.” He pecked you on the lips and pulled away from you, turning to grab his things. 

“I have office hours now, so I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you later.” He gave you a smile and walked towards the door. He paused right as his hand reached the handle and turned back to you, rushing over and kissing you again. 

“Bye,” he whispered against your lips.

You kissed him again and let out a laugh, “I’ll text you.”

He kissed you once more and replied, “Good.” He turned again and, this time, allowed himself to exit the room. 

Later that night, you knocked on his door wearing a black halter top and short skirt. Around your waist was a thin silver chain belt that laid perfectly over the dark red skirt. You and Nadia had decided to go to a local club for “Latin Night”, which meant Ireland’s finest (you and Nadia included) would be drunkenly attempting to keep up with Bad Bunny’s cadance. After a couple drinks your words weren’t as coordinated as your hips. Nadia left the club with an old flame, but made sure you safely got into a car you called. Now, here you were, sobering up in front of Jim’s door. Hoping he opened it soon because you didn’t feel like waiting on the club’s bathroom line. 

The door opened and he was still wearing the clothes you saw him in earlier. “Are you drunk?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“I’m halfway to sober. Can I use the bathroom?” You held in a giggle, you didn’t know why you wanted to laugh. Perhaps part of it was the fact you imagined kissing him, but the idea of him tasting the liquor on you made you stop. 

He moved out of the way and you practivally ran by him and towards the bathroom.

“Do you have mouthwash?”, you shouted as you jogged to the bathroom and closed the door. 

“Yes, I do. In the cabinet. Why do you need mouthwash?”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

After a couple minutes of making yourself presentable again, you exited the bathroom and made your way towards Jim. 

“So, how was your night out w-“ You cut him off with a hard kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair.

He pulled away after kissing you back, “Is that why you wanted the mouthwash?” You nodded and hummed “mhm” before trying to kiss him again. He pulled back. “You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, you’re not sober.” He walked into the kitchen and poured you a glass of water. “Drink.” He placed it down on the counter in front of you. You looked between him and the glass. He pushed the glass towards you. “I said, drink.”

You smirked and grabbed the glass, chugging half of it. “Happy?” 

He leaned with both his hands bracing on the counter. “We’re not having the conversation we need to have until the morning. I need you one hundred percent sober.”

“Fine.” 

“Finish your water.” 

“Jim, I’m okay, seriously.”

He walked around the bar in the kitchen and grabbed the glass on his way towards you. He held the glass against your lips. 

“Drink.”, he whispered. You placed your hand on top of his and tilted the glass. You drank every last drop. 

“Good girl. Now come, you can’t be comfortable in that dress and those shoes.” He went to the dresser in his bedroom and dug around for some pajama pants and a t-shirt for you to wear. You followed him and leaned against the door frame. 

“Do you like taking care of me?” You tilted your head, challenging him.

A blush started to grow on his cheeks. He placed the clothes on the bed near you and stood back. You put your bag down on the floor, kicked off your shoes, and started the take off your shirt. “You don’t want to do that in the bathroom?” He couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” You finished taking of your shirt and you reached over to grab the t-shirt he picked out for you. It was a Fleetwood Mac tee. You pulled it over your head and removed your skirt before grabbing the black lounge pants he gave you. He watched your every move, studying how steady your movements were and how you lost your balance slightly while putting the pants on. 

“You’re staying over, if that wasn’t clear already.” 

“How chivelrous.” 

“I’m serious. Do you need anything else before getting into bed?”

“I want to wash my face.” You started walking towards the bathroom. “Do you have any face wash?”

“In the shower, love.”

“God, of course you fucking do.”

As much as he wished he could have that conversation with you, he loved seeing this side of you. He found you curt and pointed in the best way possible. Upon your arrival back to the bedroom you found him fixing up the bed, more specifically your side of the bed. He had set a bottle of water and pain killers on the bedside table. For when you wake up, he said. 

You hadn’t expected him to take this much care of you. You think he found pleasure in it, and yet he ignored your question about it when you asked. You got into bed without a word and he followed on the other side. 

“Thanks for setting up my emergency morning kit.”

“You’re welcome,” he chuckled, “I don’t want you to suffer in the morning.”

“Well, you know, I don’t get hangovers. I think it’s impossible for me.”

“Oh, that cannot be true.” He turned on his side to face you. 

You stayed on your back, looking up at the ceiling, “No, it’s true, I never do. I guess I never drink enough to get hungover. And I have people forcing me to drink water constantly. Not just you, Nadia too.”

He hummed in understanding. Silence covered you both, only your staggered breath could be heard as you gave into rigid stillness. The reality of what was happening was starting to set in. You were fucking your professor and now he was taking care of you after a night out. “What the fuck am I doing?”, you thought. The moral implications of what was happening seemed more real now that you felt him reach for your hand. He squeezed it to try and get your attention. It was only now you realize that he had been saying your name repeatedly, trying to get your attention. It startled you and you pulled your hand away. 

“What?”, you sounded scared when you asked. 

“Tell me what’s running through your head.” He sat up now, trying to add a bit of urgency to his soft command.

Your mouth opened and no words came out. You shut it.

“I need to hear what’s going through your head.” He took a chance and reached out to caress your cheek. You leaned into his hand.

“I just,” you started, “I feel weird. Like I’m dirty and doing something wrong. I’ve never been with someone older than me and I’ve never been cared for or told what to do. It’s all new to me. Too new. But, the issue is that I love it. I want it more than anything.”

“Come here,” he gestured to his lap, “and don’t worry, no funny business. Just come here.”

You stratled him and met him face to face. He held your face in his hands. “Look at me,” you tried your hardest not to, “Hey, hey, look at me. I need your eyes on me.” You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them and being drawn in by his. 

“I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and if you feel uncomforable with me in the bed tonight just say the word and I’ll sleep on the couch. I… I understand your apprehension. But give us- this a chance.”

You took in his words before nodding slowly, “Okay.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I want this. Really, really bad.” You started to move your hips and his hands left your face, and firmly stopped your hips.

“Not now, this isn’t what this is about.”

You looked down at your arms, now crossed over your body, feeling slightly repremanded. If he didn’t want sex from you all the time, then what did he want?

He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered only for you to hear even though not another soul ever would, “I want you to submit to me willingly. Not because you feel that you have to.”

You felt your eyes water and a single tear fell. You pulled back and quickly wiped it away. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Don’t apologize. I get it. It’s a lot.”

“It feels like more than hooking up with my professor now.”

“Good. It should.”

You pressed a soft kiss against his lips, “Can we cuddle?”

“Of course, love.” 

You got off of his lap and he reached to turn off the only lamp on in his room, the one on his bedside. He laid down and opened his arms for you. You fit perfectly against him. You laid a hand on his chest and got comfortable in the crook of his neck. He held as if you would run away. 

“Thank you, Jim.”

“For?”, he stroked your arm before wrapping his hand around it. 

“For caring.”