#Jim imagine

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Summary: Jim meets you in an ally to fuck you dumb.

warnings: voyeurisum, public sex, creampie, infidelity, age gap (unspecified), dumbification, dubcon, submissive!reader, anal fingering, p in v

“Yeah… yeah I’ll be home tomorrow. I have some ugh-“ Jim’s eyes wandered from his wife’s voice on the other end of the phone when you strudded by, looking back at him with playful, seductive eyes, wearing nothing but high cut shorts and a nearly see through tanktop and a light spring jacket. “Some extra work to do.” It should have been a crime the way your ass cheeks nearly bounced out of the fabric with each step. Ending the phone call abruptly he followed behind you, his eyes fixated on your rear end, the way your hips swayed with each confident step.

Checking his surroundings, he turned into the ally stunned by the sight of your bare chest, your nipples hardening from the breeze while your boobs sat quaintly on your chest, only partially visible from the streetlight. Taken aback by the sight he wasted no time. His hands cusped your cheeks, lips colliding with an immense urge to take every part of you possible. “What er yuh doing walking past me like that. Giving me that look.” Shoving your body against the brick wall, he hoisted you up, unfastening the denim shorts quickly, pushing your laced, soaked panties to the side.

“What can I say? A girl wants to have some fun, and you just look thrillingly attractive.” Tongue lapping over his lips, he unbuttoned his pants, spitting quickly into his hand, coating his cock with his saliva before shoving his long, hardened length in the tight, wetness of your dripping cunt, rendering you speechless. The size of his shaft felt overwhelmingly large, stretching your succulent, eager hole open beyond imagination.

A menacing laugh escaped from between his plush lips while his sapphire blue eyes were transfixed on you, taking immense interest in the way you immediately shut the fuck up once his cock was buried in you. “That all it take huh? Need my cock to behave don’t yuh? Such a fragile young thing. Look at you, my dumb little whore.” You whined, hands grasping desperately at his shoulders while his cock drilled in and out of you, your inner soaked walls clinging to his shaft, feeling an immense pleasure from the way he fucked you senseless. With each thrust, your ass cheeks bounced off the brick wall, tits barely being held in place in the frivolous tanktop.

“Pl-please. Feels so- so good.” The warmth of his hands beneath your ass cheeks sent shivers up your spine, the way he gripped onto the fatty skin so roughly. His body was pressed flushed against yours, giving you no room to breath with the brick wall behind you. Jim watched as you struggled to move, merely laughing at your poor attempt of grinding down on his cock. He buried his head into your neck, suffocating himself against your fragile, smoothe skin while his lips suctioned red marks into your ‘innocent skin.’ Your pussy throbbed at this point but he wasn’t done just yet. “I-I’m going to-“ He broke away, clasping your jaw with his hand, demanding your attention.

“You’ll cum when I say you can.” People began laughing in the distance, causing your cheeks to redden in embarrassment when they walked by but Jim didn’t care, still buried deep withing your ivory pussy.

“Don’t look at them, look at me.” In a dazed, fucked out state you did as he said. A sharp slap that could be heard from miles away hit your face, causing you to yelp from the pain and strength of his muscles. Your head rearing to the side, just missing the brick wall behind you.

“Get down on your knees.” He released his hand from your ass, dropping you down, knees hitting the puddled cement. The realization of just how big he was set in, your eyes going wide, glancing up at the older man with pleading, pitiful eyes of mercy but he showed no remorse, pulling you in forcefully against his leaking cock.

“What’s ta matter eh? Flaunting yourself, dressing like that, merely begging for my cock. Now you got it and you wanna act scared?” When his length pertruded upon your slippery slope, Jim rested his head back, the feeling of warmth, and your plush lips wrapped around his cock while tears formed at the brim of your weary eyes sending the man into overdrive seeing you so weak at the knees.

The slight breeze blew wild strands of your hair around you while spit was building up dripping down your cheek, the impactful blows making it hard to breathe. His cock pumping deeper and deeper down your throat with every volatile thrust. When he felt your teeth graze, he slapped your harshly again, watching the tears stream down your cheeks, and the bubbles forming in your spit as it leaked down your neck, whimpering around his hardened length.

He held you down, pushing you against his skin with no room to breath, watching your arms flail in a pathetic attempt to push him away. He smirked, watching you struggle, desperately needing more air, he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

“Relax. Breathe in and out, subtle your jaw. Acting like this is new to you.” Listening, batting your curled eyelashes, you relaxed your jaw, allowing his cock to sit in your throat, never breaking eye contact with the harsh, crystal blue eyes. When he felt your teeth again he forced your body up, walking you over to the dumpster. Bending you over, a stinging, volatile slap ricocheted off your sensitive, ass cheek, causing you to squeal out in pain. Spreading your cheeks, he found that tight, needing glory hole, imagining what it would feel like to be fully submerged in your ass but he wasn’t going to push you that far instead sliding two fingers in your ass, causing you to tense from pain and shock.

“Look at you, allowing me to use you like some whore on the street. You feel that?” His fingers worked at your ass like the speed of lightning, not giving the tight forbidden hole a chance to adjust, while his cock pounded into you relentlessly, making you able to feel your boobs bounce against the metal container.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, Jim please I- oh!” He added another finger, working your asshole open to the point of no return. He held you down with his hand at the gape of your neck, feeling the goosebumps and sweat building on your skin.

Your pussy tightened around his length, desperately needing a release. “Give it to her harder man!” A passerby yelled in the distance, turning your cheeks a rosy shade of amber, painted with fluttering embarrassment but deep down you like it. In a sick twisted way you liked people seeing you be completely at Jim’s mercy, taking his cock so well, being completely and utterly at his disposal as if you were his slave and he owned you.

His hand came up to firmly grasp your boob, twisting your nipple with immense strength, still relentlessly pounding deep into your overworked core. Your thighs began to shake from the sudden rush of pleasure, your back arching, still trying to contain yourself from cumming right then and there on his cock.

“Whaddaya say princess? Hm?” He pulled your head back by your hair, causing you to moan and crumble against him.

“Gonna cum on my cock for other people to see? Show them you got what you wanted? That I broke you? Come on now, show me just how much that little over used pussy can do.” His words sounded like music to yours, not needing to be pressed any further. Your moans filled the street, hands grasping at the back of his sweating neck while your sweet, delectable nectar pooled out onto his dick, flooding out of you like a river. Your hole body shaking, toes curling, euphoric waves of pleasure rushing through your veins like a drug.

“Want me to fill you up sweetheart?”

“Mm-mhm, pl-please!” In that second his cock pulsated within your sherbet walls, filling you up profoundly to the brim with his seed, painting your insides white like a mosaic portrait, desperate moans fulfilling your eardrums.

Falling back against his chest still trying to catch a breath, people began to scatter off from the scene as if nothing happened. “I wasn’t too hard on you was I?” His tone of voice changed, now caring and endearing. Turning you, he brushed the hair out of your face, wiping away the scattered mascara and tears. He could tell in your eyes that’s what you needed, to be controlled and cared for.

Shaking your head, still coming down from your high, you rested your head on his shoulder in a tired state. Eventually taking him up on an offer to stay at his hotel room tonight.

[blanc-ci]

Spock just wants to be certain that’s still his captain in there… no other reason… yknow you can never be too careful

Design inspired by @papanowo makeup and piercings were suuuch a good idea

[misersdream]

prankster rika

[trek-tracks]

Come on, Spock, what mysterious relative is it this time?

[basoogil]

yeah

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

Imagine:

He spreads your pussy lips open “ah, there she is” he chuckles softly as he finds your swollen clit. “Looks like this needs a good sucking” he smirks up at you then drops a dollop of spit onto your sensitive clit. He leans in and circles your nub teasingly with his tongue before attaching his lips and lightly sucking, his eyes never leave yours as you arch your back and moan.

[its-always-sunny-in-city17]

they'll transport just about anything on here!

[n0ahsferatu]

my dear friend @marlenacantswim asked me to draw the TOS yaoi polycule and i want you to know this is what the whole show is like to me

[princesitangelita]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ after swearing up and down that you can’t make a sale, jim lets you answer his phone to give it a try. his elaborate plan to prove himself right goes south as soon as the man on the other line buys a heaping amount of paper in exchange for your phone number..

warnings: flirty banter, teasing, fluff, mild humor, slight tension (?), jim being a little jealous (a lot, actually), close proximity

a/n: first jim prompt :,) feel free to send in req’s!

wc: 1.1k

“..but why? why do you think it’s impossible for me to sell paper?” jim was leaning over the counter of the receptionist desk, both of your faces not far from one another’s. “because you answer the phone like this!” he taunted your high pitched ‘customer service’ voice, your cheeks heating as you giggled quietly. “i do not sound like that!” jim smiled when you accidentally snorted, your eyes widening in embarrassment. phyllis looked over at you two, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “there’s a reason you didn’t get the sales position, ditzy.”

you gasped, slapping his arm playfully. “that’s a low blow, halpert!” shaking your head, you opened up the spreadsheet michael had forwarded to you, “and by the way, my insane typing skills got me this position. i get to sit and look pretty all day..” jim nodded, eyes flittering down to the soft curve of your lips. “yeah, that you do.” his voice dropped down a few octaves, the sound paired up with his words made butterflies flutter in your tummy. the girls were so going to be hearing about this later.

you met his eyes for a brief moment, both of you clearing your throats awkwardly at the sudden energy shift. “seriously though, how hard could it be?” just as you asked him, his phone began ringing. “wanna find out?” you were up on your feet, basically buzzing with excitement as you followed jim over to his desk. the last thing jim expected you to do was bend over the hardwood his phone was rested on, his distressed glare finding the cameraman. dwight was eyeing you with pinched eyebrows, wondering what the hell you two were up to now.

for his own sake, jim didn’t dare glance down at your backside in that tight pencil skirt of yours, instead he took his seat, pushing himself all the way in under his desk before motioning for you to answer the damned thing. flashing an innocent smile at dwight, he rolled his eyes as you put the receiver to your ear. “jim halpert speaking!” jim closed his eyes, holding in a laugh as he muted the call. “you have to say your name, not mine..” the realization dawned on you, a little ‘oh, that’s right!’ leaving your lips before he unmuted you.

chirping your name into the phone, the man on the other side of the line sounded confused as he carried on. “hello, is this dunder mifflin? the paper company.” you hummed, drawing a few stares from oscar and stanley. “hi there, my name is jonathan and i was tasked with choosing the best paper for my office, and i came across this number. if you don’t mind, i just had a few questions.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “of course, i’d be happy to provide you with answers!” jim leaned in, listening closely to the call.

“why should i choose dunder mifflin as my business’s official paper supplier?” it was a simple question, but it still had you wracking your brain for what you should say. “uhm.. well! here at dunder mifflin, we have the best sales representatives always just one phone call away! we will keep your office and/or work space stocked with only the highest quality of paper, card stock, and many more! all at an amazing price as well, and you didn’t hear this from me.. but if you buy in bulk, you get major steals.” jim was flabbergasted. maybe he should be a receptionist instead. this was your desk now.

“wow! that sounds amazing. you really checked all of my boxes.” he laughed, a hint of flirting evident in his tone. “yeah? well i usually do.” jim looked at the side of your face, his gaze burning hot. “i bet.. look, this might come across as really weird, but gosh your voice is so pretty, it’s a nice change from the usual montone robots answering these phones.” you chuckled, the sound making jim want to snatch the thing out of your hand. dwight noticed this, a smug look taking over his features.

michael had his head poking out of his door, the entire office now listening in on your conversation. “put it on speaker!” erin whispered, everyone agreeing in unison. jim sighed, already not liking where this was going. “oh trust me, i know,” you spoke, “but would you be interested in hearing any of my offers?” you motioned for jim to pull up the package deals sheet on his computer. “please, enlighten me.” you gasped, raising your eyebrows at the man next to you. jim was quick to cover the scowl on his face, a fake smile gracing his lips as he pulled up december’s spreadsheet.

“okayyy! so starting off with the most expensive package, for five hundred dollars a month, you get a weekly delivery on your paper, and this includes an unlimited card stock supply that i can personally guarantee will arrive on time, all the time—”

“i’ll take it.” you blinked, dwight’s grin dropping from his face.

“r-really?! you don’t want to hear about my other packages?” jonathan, the man on the other line let out a disapproving hum. “no, i’ve heard quite enough, i’d love to make a deal with you though.” everyone exchanged looks, you and jim meeting each other’s eyes for the first time during this entire ordeal. “okay, may i please get your information?” you took the phone off of speaker, everyone, including michael, groaning in frustration. “i wanted to hear the deal!” kevin shook his head. angela made a face, turning around in her seat as she resumed watching cat videos on youtube.

you were quiet for a few moments, your eyes widening as jonathan stated his offer. “..so what you’re telling me is; in exchange for purchasing the five hundred dollar package, you want my phone number?” the office went into an uproar, dwight shooting out of his seat. “what is this? a phone sex hotline?!” jim couldn’t stand to listen to another second of this, his index finger reaching out and pressing the ‘end call’ button. you yelped, dropping the phone on his desk. “jim, what the hell?! i totally had that in the bag!” you stood up, a series of shouts sounding around the office.

“transfer him to my phone right now!” meredith shouted, jim wasting no time in giving her the number. “alright, ditzy, you could sell paper.” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, clearing his throat as he made eye contact with one of the cameras in the corner. you may be lacking a bit in the logical department, but you were an expert when it came to reading jim, and right now? he looked nothing short of jealous. you leaned down next to his ear. “well i’m glad we could settle that, halpert.” jim swallowed thickly, your perfume diminishing all of his senses.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Can you please do a jim fanfic ? I love all your Cillian fanfics . Well write like you wrote that story jim meets you in an ally to ... I love that 🫠

warnings: smut below the cut, spanking, abuse of power, age gap, reader is 18 and Jim's daughters friend, punishment, p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, daddy!kink, dubcon/noncon, dacryphylia, erotophobia, virgin!reader, anal

Thank you for the request, hope this is what you were looking for!

Hearing the door open, Jim reeled himself away from the dreadful paperwork he had to fill out for a client that was more than unfavorable. Turning his attention to Maggie prancing in the room wearing a pair of shorts that were showing far too much skin for a father to be comfortable with.

"Darling what are you-" The teenager was quick to peck her dad on the cheek before shouting back in response that she was going to take a shower after playing part in a soccer game. What explained her outfit was you following behind her with an earbud in, a crop-top pressing your cleavage up while your ass cheeks were barely being held in from the black mini skirt around your waist.

He had never thought you were a very good influence on his daughter who tried all too hard to fit in just like any other typical teenager but he wanted to be a better father than that, you just seemed to make that an impossible challenge and he was fed up.

Being a father figure to someone who wasn’t his daughter was difficult. You had been around the family your whole life, mum always busy with work, your biological dad never around once your mum left him because of alcoholism. He felt bad for you, he really did but that didn’t mean he’d let this slide any longer.

Before you could get past into the next room, he stopped you from his seat with a protruding, deep voice.

"Hold on, back up tare eh?" Rolling your eyes, you turned around helping yourself to a leftover smoothie in the fridge while leaning against the counter, not even paying him any attention, aggravating him more.

He scoffed from your lack of manners, raising his hand up from the table in irritation and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Care to explain to me what in the fuck she is wearing?" Still no response, instead putting in another earbud to drown your friend's overly protective father out. He needed to learn to relax, to let Maggie live a little bit she was only a year younger than you, soon to be an adult.

Hearing the shower run, Jim pushed himself up out his seat, huffing in annoyance, he had dealt with your behavior and disrespect for his rules for far too long. Before you had a chance to react his large hand wrapped around your forearm, practically dragging you toward the bedroom and tossing you inside carelessly.

"What the fuck! Y'know you have some real anger issues, I mean-" He cut you off abruptly, his hand wrapping around the small of your throat while his free hand glided down the nape of your back, pulling you in and closing the proximity between the two of you roughly.

Your heart pattered anxiously against his chest, your confidence and attitude suddenly disappearing, when his fingers grazed over your ass, and his sapphire, hallowed eyes darkened, reading you like a book.

Surely with how nervous you were in this situation, you weren't experienced and he could tell with being a well aged man himself.

"What's ta matter? Nothin' else ta say now with that snarky tongue?" You gulped, trying to replenish the ginormous lump in your throat. You were in danger, and scanned the room for an escape plan but Jim was a wise man and much stronger than yourself. Still stood speechless, he walked you backwards until your legs hit the sides of the bed, causing your bum to falter down onto the mattress while he still had a hold of you.

"Please don't. I-I've never had sex and I-I'm scared to. I don't want to-" He chuckled lightly, the feeling of his fingers fumbling with your zipper, freezing you in your feeble position beneath his muscular body.

"Then consider this a lesson not to dress like a fucking whore in me fucking house. You're not going to make a sound, wouldn't want your mother to think you came onto me would you? She doesn't trust you after all right? Troublesome girl." He could feel your thighs shaking underneath him in fear, and how your eyes revealed the true palpable fear you felt. What choice did you have but to obey?

Staying quiet, he breathed in your alluring strawberry scent as he yanked your panties and shorts down, the thin fabric falling onto the floor, leaving you completely exposed and at his mercy.

Gasping in alarm, he flipped you over effortlessly onto your stomach. His fingers slid down your ass, to your sex, caressing in-between your dry folds, dabbling one of the tips into your cunt without any lubrication. You tensed, a ringing alarm pounding through your head at the sudden intrusion.

"You're going to have to loosen up, we don't have long." He plunged himself further into your tight, warm abyss, hand combing through the strands of your hair while yanking your head back, his lips dusting over your ear, as his fingers picked up pace. It hurt immensely, a stinging pain vibrating through you while his two fingers worked mercilessly at your cunt, ass cheeks jiggling with each powerful thrust. You had to bite down onto the pillow to keep quiet and hide the pain.

“Good girl..” Once his fingers exited you, he swung his hand back and in one vigorous motion cracking down on your ass cheek, bum turning a bright shade of red within seconds. As if he knew you were going to scream he cupped your mouth closed with one hand while unbuckling his pants with the other.

When the thick head of his cock popped out eagerly, slapping against your folds, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer when they flowed freely down your rosy cheeks. Hands inching toward the opposite end of the mattress, you attempted to pull away from his touch, eyebrows furrowing together in defeat when the older man simply chuckled, grasping your wrists with one hand holding them in place behind your back.

"Ah, ah, ah. You need to learn darling. Can't expect a man to watch women flaunt themselves with such skimpish clothing and have nothing happen." You were hoping and praying to hear the shower water shut off, for Maggie to be done so he couldn't get as far as to insert himself in your innocent rose.

You screeched when he his long shaft inside descended abruptly into your dry, but oh so tight canal. At this point, you were hyperventilating, nostrils flaring from the insurmountable pain and sudden intrusion.

The sight of you so helpless, so petrified beneath him assured him that you would indeed learn your lesson. Jim hadn't given you a moment to adjust either, pumping in and out of you slowly at first, watching your cunt take his cock so well, the sight of his lengthy member disappearing every second or so inside of you while your ass cheeks vibrated around him. The warmth of your pussy consuming him, unable to contain himself from releasing a throaty, low groan.

"Fuck love, such a good girl." Another powerful hit to your ass, while he bottomed out, rutting into your aching pussy persistently. He needed to see your tears, see how much you were frightened. Grabbing hastily at your sides, he flipped you over, reinserting himself. His persistent blue eyes locking with yours in a desirable, fiery gaze. You couldn't stop yourself from glancing down, watching his cock dominate and use you with no remorse. The new position, turning the pain into a slight sense of pleasure.

"Fuck daddy.." When you released a gasp of pleasure Jim's eyebrows raised in devilish surprise. Oh he was going to have with this...

"Daddy, eh? What a dirty whore." His eyes focused on your breasts bouncing up and down sporadically, lips agape from the building pleasure. He was hitting just the right spot, the head of his dick brushing against your g spot, but when he noticed you were already close like a petulant child, well that just wouldn't do. This was supposed to be a punishment not a reward.

The sound of the shower water stopping, had his head snapping toward the door. Knowing now he didn't have long, he needed to get off, needed to see you cry, and learn.

"Bad girls don't get to cum.." He pulled out, realigning himself with the hole that God had intended for shitting, bringing the panic washing back down on you, but he held you in place with a stern look and grabbing your chin.

"What did I say? Do you want me to speak with your mum?"

"No! No please I'll-" After the affirmation, he pushed inside your taint forcefully, knowing that this one was going to hurt. He wanted to fucking wreck you, make you never want to disobey him again. Your whole body tensed as you bit down on your bottom to hold back from screaming, the salty tears landing on your lips while your mascara rained down your face. Crying as he fucked into your tight hole, abusing you, and stretching you pass anything you dreamed imaginable. Your ass felt like it was being ripped a part but relief came when Jim's head fell back, not lasting nearly as long before his cum was shooting up your anal cavity, painting your insides white like dreadful piece of art.

When he pulled out you merely fell onto the floor, crumbling into pieces while your hand rested underneath your ass to make the blow to the floor not so bad, his cum leaking out onto your shaking hand. Sighing, Jim pulled up his pants, checking himself in the mirror before turning back to you.

"Get yourself together. Daddy has to go tend to some work. Remember this is our little secret, or else." He slammed the door closed behind him, leaving you crying on the floor trying to pick up the broken pieces of your stolen virginity, trying to come up with some rhyme or reason of how you would continue to come visit your best friend or stay the night. If you didn't surely Maggie would think she had done something wrong that you wouldn't want to be friends with her.

After a few moments, and a quick rinse off of your face in the mirror, you made your way back to the kitchen to find Jim sitting back at his laptop at work, acting normal, like what had just happened wasn't a crime. He knew he had the upper hand.

Maggie turned to you with a concern look. "Are you alright y/n, dad told me you had fallen ill and you look a bit pale." Jim all of a sudden became concerned, asking if there was anything they could do for you. When you shook your head no, Maggie had gotten up insisting on making you a cup of hot tea with honey, leaving you alone with Jim once again. You wrapped your hands around your legs, wincing from the pain in your bum on the wooden chair.

Jim couldn't help but release a chuckle, sipping from his coffee, no remorse present in his sadistic gaze, changing back to normal when Maggie reentered the room.

"So y/n, learn anything new today?"

[sunnibits]

okay wait wait wait hold the fuck up. I may very well be reading into this too much but like. this picture is from the very end of ep8 right,, ARE THEY FUCKING WEARING IZZY’S GLOVE?????? or at least mimicking it???? um????

[megalony]

Family Matters- Part 2

This is the follow up to my first Jim Street imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all enjoy this next one.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

@twilightlover2007 @morningstar09 @emperorluciusv

Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: When Jim's mum is out on parole and comes to live with him and (Y/n), she does whatever she can to hurt (Y/n) and come between them. And it puts (Y/n) and her unborn baby at risk.

Enjoy.

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

Jim bound (Y/n)'s hand in between his, tangling their fingers together as he brought their entwined hands up to press against his mouth. His lips smothered her fingers and his hot, shallow breaths fanned against her skin.

Both knees started to bounce up and down, jostling his elbows that were digging deep into his thighs that were aching and turning numb.

Every swerve of the ambulance had Jim knocking shoulders with Chris or banging his back against the wall, but he paid it no mind. His focus was entirely on his wife.

He couldn't look away from her. His eyes travelled up and down her frame hundreds and hundreds of times, unsure where to look or what to do with himself other than hold her hand to prove to her that he was here. She had been unconscious when he and the team got to her, (Y/n) didn't know Jim was here with her or that he was watching over her. He didn't want to let go of her hand, he wanted to try and comfort her in any way he could.

He could feel Chris gliding her hand up and down his back every now and then, trying to console him and give him some sort of comfort.

"S-she's moving." Jim lifted his head to look at the paramedic sat on his left at the top of the gurney.

Panic and anticipation flooded Jim's veins and he sat up a bit straighter as adrenaline pooled in his stomach. Since (Y/n)'s fall, she hadn't moved an inch or made a sound, she had been fully unconscious when even the paramedics arrived and tried to rouse her.

But Jim was sure he could feel her fingers twitching in his hand and trying to grip him.

He sat forward, brushing his knees against the side of the gurney while he moved one hand to cup the side of (Y/n)'s jaw. He tried not to nudge or move the oxygen mask strapped over her mouth and nose and his jaw dropped, letting out a breathless sound when (Y/n) lifted her other arm.

Her hand was shaking and her arm was floppy, but her fingers brushed against his arm before she dropped her arm down on her chest, too groggy and out of it to properly move about yet.

"J-Jimmy," (Y/n)'s voice was croaky and her breaths turned into wheezes but she managed to squeeze his hand to try and check that it was him.

"It's me, I'm here baby." He brushed his thumb across the side of her cheek and leaned over until he could peck her temple. Her skin was burning against his wet lips and it made him shiver.

He watched her eyelids flutter, but she could barely open them before they squeezed shut and a grumble gurgled at the back of her throat. Her hand moved again and Jim bit the corner of his lip when (Y/n) tried to move the oxygen mask. He gently squeezed her fingers and moved the mask so it was back covering her nose again.

"You need that on, baby. We're nearly at the hospital."

"We're here now." Chris reached out and gently rubbed her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm when she felt the ambulance pull up to a stop.

Jim kept tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand while the medics moved the gurney, but he was surprised when they stepped down to find the rest of the team just pulling up.

Deacon was just pulling up in the closest space he could find, Luca riding shotgun with him. And Hondo was already up and out of his car. Shivers ran up and down Jim's spine and he felt his blood run cold when he looked at who climbed out of Hondo's car next.

Karen.

They had brought her. Of course they did, they didn't want to leave her at the house and risk her taking off because they all knew what she had done. Hondo couldn't let her out of his sight. They needed to find out exactly what happened and they would have to call Karen's support officer and then call the police after this. If Karen tried to run off, they would have to issue out a warrent for her arrest and that would be much more effort than it was worth.

Still, Jim didn't want her here. He wanted his mother as far away from his wife as possible. She had caused this. She had hurt his wife and unborn daughter, she could have caused an unknown amount of damage today and just looking at his mother was reducing him to angered tremors.

One of the medics patted Jim's shoulder and uttered a soft "This way," which brought him back to reality.

He nodded, watching Chris stay as close to the gurney as she could, following them all inside through the medic's entrance into the emergency room. They followed down the corridor and into the assessment unit where a doctor was stood, ushering them into a vacant cubicle.

Jim's hand felt cold and lifeless when he had to let go of (Y/n). He bound both hands together behind his head, sticking his elbows out at the sides to try and encourage his chest to take deeper breaths and allow enough oxygen around his body.

His eyes followed the medics, leaning over them to watch carefully as they transferred (Y/n) from the gurney onto the bed. But she was writhing around, moving her hands like she was trying to hit them away weakly and as soon as they removed the oxygen mask she took a deep breath like she had been drowning.

"Jim…"

"I'm still here, hey I'm here." He weaved around the medics to reach out for (Y/n) when her hand wavered at her side, desperately trying to find him. When she muttered something, he crouched down beside the bed, pecking her cheek as he did so. "What did you say?" He murmured softly, brushing his free hand through her hair.

(Y/n) managed to open her eyes, but they instantly rolled to the back of her head and she coiled both arms to her stomach, pulling Jim's hand with her.

"F-feel sick."

"Here." Chris handed a cardboard sick bowl out to Jim while the doctor and nurse who entered the room both moved to stand behind (Y/n). They carefully eased her onto her right side and helped her flop her head forward just in time to throw up.

Jim bit down on his lower lip and closed his eyes, trying to ward off his own sickness when he heard the paramedics informing the doctor of the situation. He heard "Fetal heartbeat was low," and his stomach clenched, threatening to throw up his lunch or make him pass out.

That was his daughter they were talking about. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing his baby girl, not now.

"Let's get you more comfortable, (Y/n), and we can do an ultrasound."

Jim pushed up to his feet again and regrettably let go of (Y/n)'s hand so the nurse and doctor could move her. They eased her onto her back and tilted the bed up at an angle to get her sitting upright in case she was going to be sick again.

It took a few minutes to get the monitoring stickers on her chest to check her own heartbeat and the oxygen clip on her finger. Once she was sorted and the ultrasound was ready, Jim moved back to stand beside the bed while Chris headed out into the hall. She didn't want to intrude and she needed to find the rest of the team and sit with them. It would be better to let the couple have a few moments to themselves and do this alone.

"How far along are you, roughly?" The doctor looked across at Jim while she set up the sonogram and gently rolled (Y/n)'s shirt so it was tucked beneath her bra.

"Twenty-six weeks." Jim's voice came out oddly quiet and he swallowed harshly, trying to gather his senses and keep some sort of control.

His right hand clamped down around (Y/n)'s hand which he brought up to press into his chest while his left arm bound tight around his torso like he was trying to give himself a reassuring hug. His weight shifted from foot to foot butw1 the moment the sonogram pressed down on (Y/n)'s stomach, Jim wanted to be sick.

What if there was no heartbeat? What if there was something wrong with their little girl? What if they needed an emergency C-section? Their baby would need too be in the neonatal unit in intensive care, she could have any number of problems or she might not make it if she had to be born now.

Both his eyes closed and he tilted his chin down into his chest, leaning from one side to the other as he started to hum the seconds away.

"Heartbeat is still low," The doctor's voice was oddly quiet, but her words sent jolts running through Jim's heart.

There was still a heartbeat. His daughter still had a chance.

"The placenta has moved down which isn't good, but there's still good blood supply in the cord and to the baby. We can work with that and get something to even out baby's heartbeat."

That was good. The baby herself hadn't moved down, she hadn't twisted into an awkward position or moved down to indicate that (Y/n) might go into labour. The blood supply was still in tact and keeping her alive. An abruption was okay, they could deal with that and work with this to try and make sure (Y/n) and the baby were both okay over the next few weeks.

"We can give (Y/n) something now, and then I'd like to send her up for an MRI, check for any swelling or bleeding."

Jim didn't like the sound of that. What if there was anything wrong? Would (Y/n) need surgery? Would that put their daughter in more danger? Were they both going to be okay?

***

"What have I done?" Tears rolled down Jim's face while his hands clasped together in his lap between his thighs.

He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, biting down harsh enough to feel droplets of blood sizzling on his tongue, causing a curdling taste in his mouth.

He felt a hand slowly rub across his back and he lowered his head down to hang near his thighs. Both eyes snapped tightly closed and he tried to take deep breaths, but his body was being reduced to shakes and he didn't know what to do with himself. He was never very good at waiting.

Jim didn't know what to do with himself when he didn't have a task at hand, he liked to be busy. Being useless like this made Jim restless and he began counting the seconds ticking by on the clock.

"Street, you couldn't have known-"

"She told me." His head snapped up and he looked across at Deacon who pursed his lips and stayed quiet. "She- she told me she didn't feel safe and I… I tried to wish it away. I fucked it all up. I let her stay."

He tried to pray. He prayed that this was all just tension between his wife and mother and that the dust would soon settle. He prayed that he could find a flat nearby for his mum and that once she moved in, everything would be better. He wanted to have his mum nearby and get back the relationship that had been ruined when she went to prison.

Jim wanted his mum in his life, but all she had done was wreck every chance he had. She embroiled him into the plot to kill his father and tried to get him to lie for her. She guilt tripped him every time she was in prison and she did something wrong. She made him feel so guilty when she was being released and he tried to get her to find a flat of her own.

He let her bustle her way into their lives and he didn't put his foot down or take his wife seriously. And now that had endangered his wife and their little girl. His family.

"You tried to do right by your mum, Street. Any of us would have done that." Hondo leaned forward, but Jim wouldn't meet his gaze.

They all understood Jim's want and need to have his mum close, to try and patch up their relationship. He wanted to help her get her life back together and he wanted to maintain the little family he still had. They all thought it was very loving of Jim to let his mum into his home and try to help her get a job and find her a flat of her own. He did everything he could for his mum, it was Karen who was in the wrong.

"But I- all the things she did, I didn't believe them."

"W-what things?" Luca tilted his head to one side and looked over at Jim with a perplexed look.

"She hid things. (Y/n) said," Jim tilted his head back and tried to sit up straight to gather his thoughts. "She said things went missing, the baby stuff (Y/n) bought, her work notes… her old blanket, it- it was cut up and frayed, (Y/n) was so upset."

"She hid the baby clothes?"

Jim's eyes darted around the waiting room for what felt like the hundredth time, but he already knew his mum wasn't sat here with them. She was in the corridor. She wasn't straying far because she wanted to talk to Jim and she was waiting around until he found the will power to face her and talk about what she'd done.

"Only the ones (Y/n) bought." Jim could see it all making sense now. He could see everything clearly now he was taking a step back and looking from a new angle.

All the clothes and the bibs and the toys (Y/n) had accumilated, they were all missing. Jim could see that, he had seen all the clothes the team donated were still in the drawers or folded neatly in the nursery. He had seen how crushed (Y/n) had been and how she overworked herself when she found her notebook in the bin.

And Jim knew, he knew deep down that his mum must have cut up (Y/n)'s blanket. Because trapping it in a drawer might fray it, but it wouldn't cut the wool so precisely or unravel over half the blanket which had been an old keepsake they wanted to hand down to their daughter.

Jim should have listened then. He should have listened to his wife and done right by her. She wouldn't be hurt and in turmoil now along with their daughter if Jim had done something about his mum sooner.

"The important thing now is that we got there in time. For (Y/n). We were lucky." Chris was right. They had turned up at the right time. A few seconds earlier might have been preferred, but they had gotten there in time to help (Y/n) and get her to the hospital.

Any later and Karen could have done something. She could have moved (Y/n) to try and make it seem like a fall, she could have hurt (Y/n) further by trying to move her and disguise what happened. Waiting could have caused (Y/n) to have internal bleeding or any number of problems with the baby. They could have lost the baby if the team got there any later.

"Mr Street?"

Jim startled up from his chair so fast it scraped back against the wall and he lost his footing.

His sweating palms ran up and down his thighs as he weaved through the team to reach the doctor he had spoken to earlier. The staff had been kind enough to let the team stay in this waiting room right between the MRI unit and the X-ray ward. They had waited little over half an hour for (Y/n) to have a scan and they were hoping she wouldn't have to go for a CT scan or they would have to wait even longer.

But none of the team were about to leave. Cortez had given them the all clear to stay with Jim and make sure he and (Y/n) were alright. She had put Mumford's team on standby so if any emergency came in, they would be called instead of Hondo's team.

"Is she okay?" His hands moved round to tuck into his back pockets while he jutted one knee forward and levelled his weight on his back foot. He wasn't sure he was ready for the answers.

"No bleeding or swelling on the brain, the scan was clear."

"Oh, thank you."

"We've admitted your wife onto a ward for observation, we can't release her until her BP settles and the baby's heartbeat evens out."

Jim had such a horrid feeling that (Y/n) would have had swelling on or around her brain and would of needed surgery to relieve the pressure. Or he had imaginings of her having a mass bleed somewhere in her body that they would have to operate to sort out.

"Will the baby be okay?" Telling Jim that there was a heartbeat was all well and good, but no one had said if there would be any further complications or problems they would have to overcome.

"Your wife will need to be on bed rest and weekly check ups, but as long as the placenta doesn't move any further and she loses no fluids, we expect her to be okay. And we will have a plan in place, as she is more susceptible to premature labour now. If you'd like to follow me, she's asking for you."

That was good. Early labour was something they could deal with and prepare for in case it happened. And bed rest was something Jim would make sure to enforce and he knew the team would be more than happy to keep an eye on (Y/n) and come round to check on her when they could. They would all make sure she took things easy and didn't overdo anything.

He turned to look over his shoulder and nodded at the team who all beamed smiles back at him. They could see the relief in his eyes and that meant good news.

Jim followed the doctor down the corridor with the team trailing behind him until he headed into the room. The team filled up the next waiting room, they would hang around and go to see (Y/n) afterwards if she was up to a few more visitors. But they knew Jim needed a few minutes alone with her first.

Tears welled up in his eyes when he sped into the room and shut the door behind him.

(Y/n) looked a bit better, she was more lively at least. Part of Jim had expected her to be groggy or unconscious.

But there she was, sitting up in the middle of the bed, changed into a hospital gown. He could see her feet tapping against the mattress and her hands were scratching up and down the cover, but the moment she locked her eyes on him, tears were falling down her cheeks.

Her arms stretched out in his direction until Jim swerved round the bed and slumped down beside her thigh. His arms bound around her waist, trying to be careful but he couldn't help how tightly he squeezed (Y/n) into his chest. His hands splayed out on her back and his face nuzzled into her neck causing her to shiver.

(Y/n) looped her shaking arms around Jim's neck and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She leaned into him as much as she could, shivering again when she felt wet, open-mouthed kisses peppering up and down the side of her neck.

She still felt sick, and all the noise in the MRI had sent her head pounding and made her feel like a boombox. But she felt better than she had when she arrived. She was more lucid now, at least, which was probably due to the morphine they had given her and the fluids that had perked her up. Although (Y/n) still felt weary and when she blinked, her eyes were getting harder and harder to keep open.

"How do you feel, baby?"

"Rough." When Jim pulled back, (Y/n) rested her cheek on his shoulder and loosened her arms from his neck so she could scrunch his shirt up in her hands.

"Baby… do you remember what happened?" He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know if (Y/n) knew what had happened. If she did, then she could tell Jim exactly what had gone on, he might not have to argue with his mother so much. Or he might have to be a lot harsher with her, depending on what his wife told him.

A shudder crept down (Y/n)'s spine and she clutched Jim's shirt tighter while she felt him kiss the top of her head. He was muttering something into her hair, but she couldn't work out what he was saying.

"Y-your mum… she was angry, about the flat hunting. She said it was my fault, I was t-turning you against her."

"Christ." Jim tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling while his arms tightened around (Y/n).

He stayed tense and still, letting (Y/n) shuffle closer and wedge herself between his legs. She cuddled up into his chest while Jim began to glide his hand up and down her arm.

"What did she do?"

"I just remember her screaming a-as she followed me." Everything was jumbled. (Y/n) couldn't see things clearly, but she could hear Karen screeching in her ear and yelling as (Y/n) tried to get away from her. She remembered leaving the nursery she had been tidying, and feeling Karen reaching out for her.

But after that, everything was mushed. She could see Jim hovering over her. She could feel hands all reaching out for her and moving her and taking her out of her home. Loud noises. Sirens. Raised voices. A rocky, tumbling journey. Being sick. Moving from room to room until she finally woke up in the MRI machine and having to be calmed down from a panic attack so the scan could continue.

"Is she okay?" (Y/n) shakily held Jim's wrist and moved his hand from her arm to cup the underside of her stomach. No one had told her properly what was going on with the baby. All the nurse said was that the baby had to be okay for her to be cleared for a scan.

"A bit distressed, but our girl's gonna be just fine. And you need to be on bed rest."

(Y/n) groaned quietly but she felt Jim chuckling into her hair and peppering more kisses against her temple.

"I'm gonna look after you, and my mum's not coming anywhere near you again. Either of you."

***

A sigh built up in the back of Jim's throat when he looked around the waiting room.

She was still here.

Part of him thought his mum would make herself scarce. He thought she would hurry off to avoid confrontation and the argument that was ultimately going to happen sooner or later. But she had stuck around. She clearly thought she could sway the conversation and win him back over. As if.

"You can all go say hi, if you want." He pressed his shoulders back into the wall with one foot against the wall for balance and both arms crossed over his chest.

He managed a smile and nodded at the team when they all jumped to their feet, eager to go and see (Y/n) and ask how she was for themselves. They followed single file into the room, patting Jim's shoulder on their way past. But his mum remained seated, she seemed to understand that the invitation didn't extend to her.

The moment the door shut behind Hondo, Karen was up on her feet. She hurried over to Jim with the saddest smile he had ever seen on her lips and panic bubbling up in her dark eyes.

He noticed the way she was biting down on her lower lip and itching from foot to foot, unsure what to do with herself. When her hands reached out for him and she curled her hands around his arms, he didn't give in like he usually would. He didn't let her unfold his arms and wrap him up in a hug. He stayed tense, pushed back into the wall with a cold, stern expression that had Karen shivering on the spot.

"Are you okay, honey?"

Her words made him laugh inwardly. His shoulders tensed up and his eyes rolled to the back of his head while his lips curved into a sinister smirk. Did he look like he was okay? Did she honestly expect him to be okay after what she'd done today?

"No."

"Well, well they're going to be okay, aren't they?" It was almost as if Karen believed that Jim should snap back to the way he had been before today. That he should smile and pretend everything was okay and ignore the fact that his mum had hurt his family without regret.

"Do you really care?"

"Why would you say that?" Her hands squeezed his arms and it infuriated him even more.

Jim pushed his arms forward so his mum would let go of him and he took a few steps away from the wall that had been propping him up. His hands fell to his hips and he sighed, tilting his head to one side as exhaustion overcame him.

"Because you never made any effort to get along with (Y/n). You made her feel horrible, you hid things and binned her work. And I- I was so, so happy to tell you that we're having a baby. I thought you'd be excited for me, fuck, I thought you'd want this for me, for us."

He had never told anyone how deeply it cut him that his mum hadn't been happy for him. The team had been happier that Jim was going to be a dad than his own mother, and that wounded him.

He wished it was different. Jim wanted to tell his mum and see her cry with happiness. He wanted her to try and be involved, to help with baby names and smile at the nursery and want to be involved with her one and only grandchild. But all he got off her was resentment, fake smiles and uninterested nods when he tried to talk about the baby.

"I am excited for you-"

"No you're not. I could of lost my daughter today, and you haven't shown any fear or sympathy at all."

His shoulders slumped and he couldn't help but shudder when his mum reached out for him. He felt her hands shakily cup his face and it only made his skin crawl and had his throat constricting in panic. He reached his hands up for her wrists and sternly pulled her hands down while he tilted his head out of her touch.

He couldn't stand to hold her. He pushed her hands back towards her chest and took a careful step away from her so she wasn't touching him or within his reach.

"Jimmy, please-" The tears in her eyes looked sincere, but it only made Jim feel worse. She was crying because he had given up on her. She wasn't shedding any tears for (Y/n) or their baby or out of remorse for what she had done today.

"Enough, mum. Okay, I've had enough. The whole team saw what you did today; I saw what you did."

"Oh Jimmy, it was an accident."

Why was she trying to deny it? Didn't she hear him? They had seen it with their own eyes. They had seen Karen leaning over the top of the stairs, they heard the banshee scream (Y/n) let out, and they saw her fall. They could put two and two together and come up with four. It was clear what Karen had done and Jim wasn't letting this happen again.

"That wasn't an accident. You hurt her, you hurt my family, how am I supposed to trust you after this?" There was nothing she could say or do that would change his mind. He couldn't trust her anymore and therefore he didn't want to be around her or be involved with her in any way, not after this.

The way Karen clasped her hands together in front of her mouth to smother her cries made Jim's heart clench. But it was nothing compared to the way his heart tore itself apart at the thought of losing his daughter or seeing his wife in agony.

He reached a hand up to tangle through his hair, taking another step back when Karen tried to move closer.

"(Y/n) told me what you did and I didn't believe her when I should of. And now- fuck, mum I could of lost my daughter today, do you get that? She'll probably be premature now or have complications, and that's your fault. You did this."

He almost lost someone so special to him, and she wasn't even born yet. His mum had taken his father from him. She always told Jim how bad his father was and that he deserved what happened, but she never really let Jim decide that for himself. She embroiled him into his father's death. And now she had almost taken his daughter away from him because she was jealous and spiteful.

There was no doubt that this was likely to cause complications for (Y/n) for the remainder of the pregnancy. They probably wouldn't reach full term now either. His mum had caused so many problems with one little decision to hurt (Y/n). Jim wasn't sure he could ever forgive her for that.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you can't stay with us anymore. I don't want you in my life." He could see his words acted as a knife plunging straight through his mum's chest into her heart.

Her hands pressed against her chest as if she truly believed she had been impaled by his words and a choked sound left her lips which had Jim shivering and stepping back towards the door. He could see the floodgates opening, tears drenching her face as she tried to gain back the ability to breathe, but she didn't know how.

Her shoulder coiled inwards and she stooped forward with ragged breaths and her elbows pinning into her waist. He didn't want her in his life. He wanted to cut her out like a disease because that was what she was doing to him. She was taking and taking and draining Jim to the point he was going to have nothing left if she carried on.

"Jimmy w-what am I meant to do?" How was she supposed to carry on without him in her life? He was the reason she had pushed to get through eighteen years in prison. He kept her going. He was her reason for staying on track and making sure she got herself released on time. She was what he was living for, she didn't know what to do without him.

"Everything okay out here?" Hondo peered his head round the door and took a few cautious steps out into the corridor with Deacon following behind him. Leaving Luca and Chris to entertain (Y/n) since the pair of them were happily running her through one of their recent cases at work.

"Yeah-"

"No, no you can't do this to me Jimmy! She's twisted your head." Karen's hands desperately clawed at his chest, scrunching his shirt in her viper grip to try and get him to listen to her. "I went to prison for you- I saved us both! Everything I've done has been for you, I need you."

His fingers deadlocked around her wrists, clenching so tightly her fingers spasmed and the blood supply was cut off to her fingers.

"For me? You screwed up both our lives, and you're blaming me? You killed him, that was never my fault and maybe you did do that for me, I'll never be sure. But I'm cutting you out my life for my daughter because I need to protect her, that's what a parent does. They don't harm people, they protect their kids."

Jim would never know if his mum had truly pulled the trigger that night for his sake, or for her own. She had been a battered wife, he had seen it with his own eyes and neither he nor Karen deserved the abuse they suffered because of his dad.

But killing him should have been a last resort and Jim would never know if things could have turned out differently. Maybe his mum did do it that night to keep him safe, but he had spent the last eighteen years thanking and loving her for that. He had repaid her enough for what she did for him.

Now he had a child to put first and to look after his daughter and his wife, he needed to cut his mother out of their lives. For good.

His hands let go of her wrists and he stepped back towards Hondo's side and ran a hand over his face to stop himself from letting any tears fall.

"I called your support officer and told her what happened. She's on her way down to take you into custody."

"Jimmy!"

Karen didn't get far enough to lunge at Jim before Hondo stepped forward and grabbed her arms.

The surprise was evident on all their faces. Hondo and Deacon understood how guilty Jim had felt for the last eighteen years that his mum had been rotting away in prison, claiming it was his fault she was in there to begin with. He felt responsible for his mum being in prison and not getting to live two decades of her life.

They knew that, and given how much Jim loved her, was the reason he had let her stay with him and (Y/n) when she was released. They couldn't quite believe that he had taken it upon himself to call her support officer and explain the situation.

Karen had violated the terms of her parole by attacking someone, she was going to be re-arrested for this and her bail would be revoked. She was undoubtedly going to go back to prison for this, and this time she could say without a doubt that it was Jim who had put her there.

But he didn't care.

He wanted his family safe and he didn't want his mother to get away with what she had done.

He had to look after his girls.

[trek-tracks]

I'm sorry I played at God :(

it will happen again

[luveline]

need need NEED more hop x reader w el they are the CUTEST

“So she’s coming?” El asks. 

Hopper pushes a glass of orange juice in her direction. “Mm-hm.” 

“And she wants to see me.” 

“Yeah, kid, she wants to see you.” 

Eleven’s hair curls just under her ears. Hopper hadn’t suspected her hair would be curly once it began to grow, but it waves gently, and tighter the longer it becomes. He doesn’t know how to take care of it. He only just taught her how to use shampoo and conditioner without leaving all the suds in. 

She scratches it. “What are you looking at?” 

“Nothing.” He ruffles her hair. “Eat your breakfast. You can get changed when you’re done. You need me to help you find something?” 

“No. I like choosing.” 

Hopper knows. She isn’t good at matching yet, but she’ll get there. 

She eats her breakfast too quickly, doesn’t drink her juice, and doesn’t put her plate in the sink before she goes, but Hopper doesn’t bother getting mad. He’s trying to be less moody. He’s also trying to be understanding; she’s learning to be a normal kid. Most normal kids are slobs. 

“Can we have dessert?” El shouts from her room. 

“You can have a snack later.” 

“Please?” 

“You can have some chips once you get dressed. Are you still hungry, or–?” 

“Snacks,” she says, turning on her radio. 

Hopper nods, laughing to himself when there’s a knock at the door. He’s been waiting to see you all weekend, and he walks to the door with a terrible smugness about him to let you in. 

“Hello,” he says, wedging the creaky frame open with his shoe. 

“Hi, handsome.” You look up into his eyes, fresh-faced like you’ve had a good scrub and dressed for a day in the house in cuffless sweatpants and a hoodie he thinks might be his. “Wow, nice shirt, hotshot. What is that? The Hawkins Police Department fun run of eighty two? That’s vintage.” 

He leans down to kiss you hello. 

“Oh, hi,” you flirt. 

You’re confident when you know you’re loved, he’s found. Still the homespun woman he knew you to be, but affectionate once you’re comfortable. He smiles into your mouth and pulls you tight to his chest, lifting you off of your feet for a millisecond before placing you back down. 

“Where’s my girl?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. 

“El?” you call. You slide around him to find her but turn back, “Did you ask her about the hugging?” 

“She says it’s fine.” 

“Like, she wants to?” 

It had been a strange conversation. Hopper is used to telling El things, or being told things by her. He didn’t ask her what she likes for breakfast, he just kept guessing until he found the right stuff. She never asked him if she could sit in his side during movies, she just inched closer until he put his arm around her. 

“She wants to,” Hopper says. She’d seemed perturbed by the question, sure, but it ended with her happy little smile through a handful of popcorn. 

“El?” you call again. 

“Kid! Your best friend is here!” Hopper shouts. 

Thunder from her bedroom, a door swung open and slapping the wall. “Y/N?” she asks, the skirt of her dress swinging as she pauses in the doorway. 

You smile and step forward. You’re tentative but excited all the same, laughing as you wrap your arms around her shoulders, and pat her back. “Hi, beautiful.” 

“Where have you been? It’s two weeks.” 

“Yeah? I didn’t mean to not see you for so long, I’m sorry.” 

“Hop says you have lots to do.” 

“There’s a leak in my bathroom,” you take her by the shoulders. “Aw, this is nice. When’d you get this? It’s light and summery.” 

“Hop… from a catalogue.” 

You raise your brows at him, grinning. “That’s nice. How many did you get?” 

“We got five.” 

“Five! From the catalogue!” You hold her hand. “Hop must really like you, huh? Who can blame him?” 

El looks down at your joined hands. Hopper feels his skeptic heart softening. “He likes you, too.” 

“But do we like him?” you joke, letting go of her hand to put your arm behind her back instead. You give Hopper a look. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I was thinking we’d go out for milkshakes?” 

Hopper bites his tongue. El has a birth certificate now, she’s his daughter, she can’t be taken, but going out with her into the world draws stares and derision alike. People can tell she’s abnormal, and he can’t stand that. She doesn’t deserve to be gawked at for talking a little slowly, or messing with stuff she doesn’t understand. 

But he doesn’t want her feeling punished for those things either. 

“Get your jacket, El.” She beams, rushing for her room. “She’s gonna love the jukebox,” Hopper says. 

You meander back into his arms, kissing his stubbly cheek. He pretends to nudge you away.

[chloeangelic]

the paper salesman

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

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

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

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

Word count: 6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Salesman of the year?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And that’s my room.” 

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

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

“You have no idea, do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More than just sex.” 

“Oh.” 

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

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

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

“Sure… In a bit.”

[teacup-gathering-itself]

The depth of Kirk being a big himbo in his slut era all the time in a very overt human way, while also being a huge nerd brainiac supercomputer on legs.

Contrasting Spock, who is a supercomputer on legs, but ALSO a big himbo in his slut era in a very overt Vulcan way.

Proof: He is so TOUCHY with his captain. He lets touch be a staple in their relationship and just. Doesn’t mention its significance to his culture. Lets people think it’s just him “putting up with” his captain. To non-Vulcans, sure that excuse works. But any Vulcan with working eyes knows what he’s up to. They’re silently scandalized.