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#i feel like i'm floundering at work
cas---2y5 · 3 months
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will-you-pick-me · 11 months
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WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE CREATOR OF WEATHERING FEELINGS IS HERE TOO
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bylertruther · 2 years
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heaven is here by florence + the machine is 100% a byler song btw. if u even care.
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solarisposting · 2 years
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yes long covid stole most of my hobbies for the timebeing but now i'm regularly going to the park with my boyfriend to kick a soccer ball around, juggle, etc. or do two-person volleyball sort-of-games and it's some of the most fun i've had in ages. so long covid is a loser and a bitch who forgot to take away sports from someone who hasn't played em in any fashion since college. lmao moron i'm getting stronger and getting some stamina and my lung capacity's gonna benefit so i can probably run again eventually too. fuckin failure
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ogamagirl · 2 years
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"Not talking about it makes it worse"
"Oh that's helpful context"
Bruh did you think I liked y'all ignoring me for a week and a half 🙃🙃🙃
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cappurrccino · 8 months
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OOOOOHHHHH the doubt, the doubt, the doubt
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, soft smut, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink, daddy kink Simon Riley/female reader
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If he could choose a way to die, this would be it.
He would choose to die right in this moment, where you're laying on your back in front of him, legs spread wide, chest heaving with the exertion of your second orgasm, limp and pliable, sweet as sugar. He'd choose to die in this room, with your name on his lips, the feeling of your body against his, your muscles seizing and hips jolting under his touch, the smell of your cunt in his nose, taste of your arousal on his tongue. He'd choose to die from happiness, elation, euphoria, the feelings so strong they feel like they might burst free from his veins and flood this room, spill from his heart like it's exploded.
He's mad for it. Mad for you. Allowed his madness to guide him, take over, control his vocal chords, his limbs. He's like a marionette, strings being plucked by none other but yourself, though you're none the wiser.
"Simon?" You whisper, very quiet, careful. You're nervous, he can tell. You've been nervous since he got you home and sent Johnny on his way, nervous ever since he laid you on your back and stripped you bare, ran his lips over every inch of skin possible, every pretty little lightning bolt, every single part you tried to hide.
"I'm here." He answers, taking your wandering hand with his own, squeezing it for good measure. You're floundering, wondering, eyes wide and a little lost, anxious at the lapse. "Just lookin' at you." He says, fingers stroking across your belly, following them with his mouth. "Don't think I've ever seen something so beautiful." You giggle, and it's soft, like the chiming of bells, the kind of music that angels would make, he thinks.
"Should I-" you turn to roll, like you're going to go facedown, or maybe up onto your hands and knees, and he stills you, forearms coming up to frame your face, thumb stroking along your furrowed brow line.
"No." He shifts your hip, settling you into a better position, and then strokes his cock, nudging it against your entrance. "I want to see your face." He wants to see your face, your eyes, your mouth, more than anything else in this world. Wants to see it everyday, wants to see it crying with bliss when he makes you come around him, wants to see it when he goes to bed and when he wakes in the morning. He wants to see it on a little paper picture, tucked up into his tac vest when he's away, wants to see smiling, giggling, content... happy. Safe. There will be plenty of time for the other stuff, for when he bends you over the couch, bends you over his knee, fucks you in the kitchen, in the shower, on the table. He hovers for a moment, soaking you in, blood thundering in his veins, through his ears, throbbing into his cock, and he's so hard it nearly hurts, but he can't rush this. He has to get it right.
"Simon." You whine, hips flexing, thrusting up so he feels the heat of your body, the wet heaven of your cunt. He grits his teeth.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He grunts, and then pushes, your eyes going wide, matching the round o of your mouth, fingernails tightening into his back, fluttering pussy trying to accommodate the stretch. He's big, bigger than you in many ways, he knows, and when your back arches, legs involuntarily folding, knees lifting, he traps you there, holding them steady so he can look down and watch the way he sinks into your body, cock disappearing inch by inch.
"Ohmygod ohmy- it's too- you're-" you gasp, and he leans down, slicking his tongue against yours, stealing your whimpers and moans, greedily drinking them up.
"I know, I've got you." He thrusts a little deeper, getting closer and closer to his hips being flush with yours. "You can take it." He goes slow, working you open, getting you used to him for as long as he can stand it, watching every little expression that falls across your face, every moment of bliss. "Is that good, sweetheart?" He noses at you, and you nod with a gulp, still holding onto him, arms trembling.
"Y-yeah. So good, so so good." You babble, nearly incoherent, cock drunk, and it feeds the reckless, hungry drive inside of him, encoraging him on, faster, until he's fucking into you with enough power that you're starting to inch up the bed moaning out nonsense vowels.
He gets lost, for a second, thinking about if you didn't have an IUD. Thinking about what it would be like, if he was breeding you, filling you with his come every night until it took, until you were growing his baby, round belly underneath a sweater, cradled in his arms in bed, giving Emmaline a sibling, making you a mama again, with him, for him. It shatters across his brain like the ricochet from a gun shot, white hot light searing inside his eyes, nearly making him come inside you right there until he pulls out with a deep breath, letting the head of his cock rest just inside your body as he collects himself, and then thrusts back in.
"Fuck!" You gasp, a little too loud, and you wince, eyes shocked. He puts his hand over your mouth, kissing your nose between where it pokes out between his thumb and forefinger.
"My good girl." He thrusts, and you moan, licking the salt of his palm. "My good," He's so deep, can feel where you end, where he's pressed against your cervix, and your eyebrows crinkle, tears gathering on your waterline. "sweet, mama. Doin' so good, taking this cock." Your eyes roll, and he drags himself along the silky heat of your walls, before plunging back in. "Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? This what you needed?" The word daddy almost slips, almost falls out like- 'is this what you wanted, for daddy to take care of you? Is this what you needed, for daddy to take you home and take care of this pussy- but he holds it in, reels in back just in time for you to nod as answer to his voiced question, and he pulls his hand away, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. "Tell me."
"Yeah, oh- Simon, yes-" you pant, a little squeaky, tear rolling down your cheek. You saying his name like this, with him so full inside you, fills him with fire, roaring heat racing through his muscles, and he grinds his hips against yours, making you groan, bucking against him when he finds your clit and glides his thumb across it, over and over.
"Do you wan' be my good girl?" He asks, pumping harder, pushing you the limit, and you cry out against his hand, nodding frantically, which he rewards with a smile, and another swipe across your clit. "Come for me. Let go sweetheart, I'm right here." He coos, still swirling your swollen bud in a circle, your legs practically steel around him, eyes brimming with tears. He'll take care of you. He'll give you everything. He'll never let you go, he swears, he swears, he swears... he doesn't stop, just keeps going relentlessly, fucking you as deep as he can as you come around his cock, exploding like a bomb, silently screaming into his palm. He's following you over the cliff of your orgasm a second later, nose pressed to your cheek, whispering insanity into your skin, half praying you won't be able to make sense of it. Whispers and vows of love, and protection, of care, promises and secrets, until the two of you are limp against one another, basking in the glow and heat of your bodies.
He closes his eyes for a moment. Just for a second, just to take a deep breath, preparing to pull out, to move on to what's next, cleaning you up, getting you in a bath or a shower, making sure you're comfortable, you're cared for, you're cherished as you ought to be. He closes his eyes, and it's just long enough for him to feel the shaking of your chest under his. Just long enough to hear the sniffle, the hiccup, his eyes opening in confusion, concern, cradling your face between his palms. "Sweetheart? What's wrong, what is it?" Panic stirs in his gut, and when you don't answer, his mouth goes dry, fear dousing him in a cold sweat. "Did I... did I hurt you?" When the only answer is the sound of your sobs, fat tears that stream down your cheeks, his heart cracks wide open in his chest.
Maybe he could very well die in this moment. But not from happiness. From agony.
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luveline · 6 months
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Can we pls get more shy reader who’s new to the team and Spencer who just got out of prison?(I just read the other one and loved it)
(P.s love all of your work 🤍)
Why is Spencer murmuring? 
“It's more complicated than anger-excitation. Everybody assumes anger-excitation but it's never that simple.” Is he talking to himself? “Our UnSub has a unique signature, so that's what we should be focusing on, but…” He opens the folder of crime scene photos, frowning hard. 
“Are you okay?” you ask, hand reaching for him of its own accord. You stop yourself before making contact. 
“I'm waiting for you to finish.” 
“Me?” Your eyebrows hike. 
“You're learning. You know the answer already.” His frown softens but doesn't leave, prompting a weird, hard-to-ignore pattering in your chest. “This is how we do it. We speak out loud and build off of each other's interpretations.” 
He's more intimidating than he realises, perhaps. You flounder to think of what he'd said and how you'd move forward. It feels like a long lapse in conversation as you mull it over, your features tilting into their own unhappy frown. 
You begin. “Most UnSubs have a signature by mistake. They mess up, or their emotions run too hot, but this one physically cannot be accidental. He's clearly sociopathic, or narcissistic, but if that's the case and we focus on the signature, then that's what he wants,” —Spencer nods encouragingly, blood rushes past your ears— “it's a red herring.” 
He lights up, his voice almost velveteen as he agrees, “It's a red herring.” It twists your guts, has you biting back a smile even as pleased heat rushes to your face and neck. 
“So we focus on the things he can't control,” you suggest. 
Spencer must see it, hear the question, the need for his approval. “Good job, Y/N,” he says, your name said with enough warmth to make it feel like a brand new word. “Really good.” 
You can't keep eye contact. It's too much. You hide your unsteady hands in the mass of papers stationed between your two thighs, wondering if he can feel your jittering in the threadbare couch beneath you both. 
“What, you don't think you're doing well?” he asks gently. 
“It's not that.” 
“Oh. I see. You like praise.” Your lips part though you can't summon words. He continues on, “It won't be hard to attract, considering how quick you are. I'd say you were a natural if I didn't know how hard you worked to get here.” His upper arm brushes yours as he sets the closed crime photos aside. “Let's do it, then.” 
“Um–” You're practically blind for a second. “Do what?” 
“Find his mistake.” 
You shake yourself. You have to get back to work.
It would be much easier to do so if he wasn't sitting beside you talking under his breath, smiling every time he catches you looking at him, completely at ease in your company. 
You think you might be getting away with it until you aren't. He says your name, voice fried with the very beginnings of a chiding. 
“What?” you ask. 
“Find the mistake.” His lips twitch. He's almost melodic as he adds, “I know you can do it.” 
He's torturing you. 
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anakincentric · 6 months
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mdni. minors & ageless blogs will be blocked. warnings: prompt, sexual content, implied smut, established relationship, dom!anakin, brat!reader, size kink, breeding kink.
"ani," you cry and sniffle, draping over anakin as he catches you around the waist to keep you upright.
"what, princess? what is it?" he's mildly concerned, used to your dramatics as he reaches up to retrieve bottles from the spice cabinet. because of his perceived indifference, your bloated confidence deflates, clutching onto the material of his top as you bury your nose in his chest. he notes your reticence, arranging the spices by the lids between his fingers to set down multiple onto the counter at a time while his other hand keeps you on him. "i'm cooking right now, can it wait?" you lull your head to the side, letting your hair hang as your teeth seek out and bite onto his bicep. he sighs, stooping to wrap his other arm around your torso and jostles you when he readjusts you to look at him. "i'm getting annoyed, tell me what you want." he's got a sneaking suspicion, but you've gotta say it.
you look up at him with those wide glossy eyes, retreating more and more into yourself because of his surly attitude regardless if you're used to his temper by now. something about ovulating makes you wanna lose yourself, but you're so afraid to cross that threshold to get to that place.
he raises his brows expectantly. "well?" you can feel those warm sensations bubble in the pit of your belly, your hole loose and slick because of it. that intense gaze of his is so irresistible, and yet it gets you choked up knowing you're on the receiving end. you bite down onto your lower lip to calm your nerves, mustering up the courage to say the bare minimum.
"it... it hurts."
he blinks at you, expression etched with an amused frown as he deducts what you could mean. "what does, bunny?"
your lips pout, downturning in discontent to be forced into telling him what you need from him. as if to give him more of a clue, you wiggle your hips, sashaying against his thigh as you look up at him. there's a significant difference in the way his countenance has shifted, softer now, more entertained. "it hurts." you emphasize the word with a glance to where your bodies meet. "can you... make it feel better?" you arch your back when he inclines in your direction, curling his large body around you with a growing stretch of his plump lips. tongue darts out to wet them and you swallow as you imagine what that talented tongue could get up to right now.
"you gotta say it if you want something from me." he taunts.
you huff through your nose. "i'm shy."
"you wanna act like a little freak? fucking back it up, c'mon." he takes great pleasure in taking advantage of you and your bashfulness, especially because he's the one that usually initiates intimacy. now he's got some sort of superiority that he hangs over your head for personal satisfaction.
"don't be mean."
"i'm not being mean, i'm helping you. gotta learn to tell people what you want."
"ugh!" you huff, throwing your head back. he waits for you to have your little tantrum, knowing you're trying to get him to just decide for you. when you're done, your finger toys with a stray string coming off his top, and you can't look at him as you find the words. "i want to... i want you to... make me feel better."
"how?" he's really pressing, nuzzling your nose with his as if to encourage you to meet his eyes. when you take too long to answer, big hands slide down your frail frame to cup your ass, making you peep as he raises you just by his grip on the flesh. "you're acting like you need to get fucked."
"i do!" desperate to end this agonizing debacle, you jump on the chance for him to answer it all for you. "anakin," you whine. "please, i've been so... worked up! i..." you search for the words, getting in your own head.
he can recognize those signs, knowing you're floundering. "stay with me." a guiding phrase that leads you back to the conversation before you lose your train of thought.
"i just need you. i need you! please? my... my womb needs you—" you realize your own words, taken aback by them as your lips part in surprise, finally meeting his gaze.
there's a dark glint in his eyes. he straightens to his full height, and turns off the burner on the stove. engulfing your hand in his, he tows you with him. "let's go put a baby in you then."
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·˚ ₊˚ˑ taglist - add yourself here. @sleepycreativewriter @aerangi @xstarkillerx @loveliestgeek
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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hi!!! ugh ive been rewatching criminal minds and i have such a bad spencer reid addiction
can i request something where y/n and spencer are both a little oblivious. they both like each other and have been on dates and are very close at work, but spencer just kind of assumed they were dating, but y/n didnt know because he never officially asked her to be his girlfriend?
Thank you soso much! im so in love with your wtiting
You and Spencer have very different responses to Penelope's giddy, "You guys are such a cute couple."
Spencer blushes, and ducks his head towards his desk with a smile on his face. He's mortified at the attention on him, but he relishes the compliment all the same. Your face heats up equally warm, but Spencer's thaws immediately when you grumble, "Penny, stop. We're not a couple."
You're not?
Spencer's head is no longer hung towards the desk, instead it's pointed at you with wide eyes and caution flickering in his irises.
"We aren't?"
Your brow furrows, and Penelope's smile begins fading. She lingers, but quickly feels the need to make herself scarce, and scurries away when you double down.
"When did we get together?"
Spencer flounders, his expression only growing more wounded, "We- I've been taking you out for weeks."
"Well- yeah," You stammer, "But- but that doesn't mean-! We're not together, Spence. You haven't asked me."
"I ask you on dates all the time." His voice is empty, clueless and dumbfounded, "We- isn't that dating?"
"We go on dates, but that doesn't mean we're dating!" You insist, years of nitpicky high school etiquette coming in handy, "You have to ask me, Spencer, you have to ask me to be your girlfriend."
"Oh." Spencer's shoulders slump slightly, and you realize with a start that he's contemplating asking.
"Do you want to be together?" You ask him incredulously, suddenly unsure of the dates you'd gone on with him in the past. Apparently they weren't satisfactory if he's not Every happy memory lodges itself like a poison dart into your rapidly beating heart, and you're confused when he nods vigorously.
"Okay. So~," You prompt, leaning towards him in your chair, "Are you going to- y'know, ask me?"
"Are you gonna say yes?" He asks, and though the question is unbearably stupid, the tone in which he asks it is soft and scared and endearing.
"Of course I'm gonna say yes!" You huff, "Spencer, I- I really like you."
"I really like you, too." The furrow in his brow smooths as the last thread of fear cinching it is snipped, and then his pretty pink lips part to finally ask, "Will you be my girlfriend?"
"Yes," You gush, and you'd be embarrassed at how fast you shot from your chair to hug him if he hadn't done the same. The kiss you share is an awkward chaste one, because neither of you have forgotten that you're on duty in a government building, but Spencer's hands wrap tightly around your waist, and you sling yours over his lithe shoulders to crush him in a hug.
"I'm sorry I didn't ask you sooner," He breathes, his voice barely audible even as he speaks against your ear, "I didn't know I was supposed to. I've never done this before."
"It's okay," You assure him, hiding your giddy grin in the knit of his sweater vest, "I'm sorry I scared you when I said we weren't. I just figured you weren't sure yet."
He draws back to thumb at the apple of your cheek, a lock of his hair dangling in front of his face from where it slipped from behind his ear.
"I'm sure," He vows, eyes boring into yours with a sincere sparkle, "And you're-? I mean, you're totally sure?"
"Totally," You let out a gushy laugh, "I'm glad you're my boyfriend, Spencer."
"Me too," He agrees, with a smile on his face that clocks in just short of disbelief, "And-! And I mean, I'm glad you're my girlfriend."
You're not permitted more than three seconds of the sentimental atmosphere you've created around you when Rossi decides you're distracting the rest of the team.
"Alright, lovebirds, this is wonderful for you, but I'm sure Hotch doesn't want you heavy petting on government time."
You flush and Spencer does the same, breaking away from you reluctantly as you grumble about government positions needing age caps. Rossi pays no mind to your insults, though, because Hotch's voice steals his attention, threaded with a spark of amusement.
"Oh, soften up, Dave." He calls from where he'd been obscured from view at the far end of the kitchenette, "I know you're three divorces bitter, but the rest of us are happy for them."
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svtskneecaps · 2 years
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i'd like to say that if my high school yearbook had voted any "most likely to"s i would have been voted "most likely to be talked over" but the truth is i wouldn't even have cracked the top ten for reasons including the fact that being talked over implies talking and i've long had that habit stomped out of me and the fact that being voted most likely to be talked over requires the voters to notice that i've been talked over in the first place and that does not tend to happen anyway i wonder if my group members have noticed the 9:1 pronoun ratio or if that's not a thought in their minds
#not kpop#shut up vic#i spent an hour with the group and nodded most of the time and said maybe ten things#which is shocking actually because usually i say zero things#so having said ten things during a meeting spanning an hour and a half is a record#sometimes i go an entire week without actually speaking out loud#anyway i have a lot of hope and a lot more fear#last group project i was a part of we split off into different tasks and i and another guy were sent to work on UI#he literally had the whole damn thing done on his own the next time we met up and i had to flounder trying to contribute after that#to be fair the project did not seem to require more than maybe four people and we had six#but i just. THREW MYSELF into doing testing for the thing even tho i hate testing and i'm bad at testing#bc there was nothing left and i had to do SOMETHING#anyway this thing includes hardware and though i haven't been assigned to work on hardware i am afraid#and idk if i know what i'm doing which is BAD because of that aforementioned 9:1 pronoun ratio#like if i want to be taken seriously i need to fucking be serious but the personality i've grown over the years doesn't compliment it#bc if i want people to think i can do it then I need to think i can do it but i DON'T and i bet you they can feel it#anyway i. don't know what to expect from any of this#i don't know how to feel#except that i need to get a planner#holy shit i need to get a planner. my desk calendar is not gonna cut it this year#not with inconsistent work and two inconsistent group meetings AS WELL AS TWO ENGLISH CLASSES#nuh uh that's gonna end in disaster
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villainousauthor · 23 days
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hi! i love your writing!!!! would you like to write about a hero who went undercover at the villain’s base and they fell in love? maybe they’re afraid that the villain will torture them for information after finding out their identity, but in reality the villain is still in love and possessive of them?
Hero's hands twitch at their sides, a sweat starting to bead on their face. They try swallowing, anxiety making their mouth dry. Villain has been quiet for several minutes now, brow pinched together.
Staring at the evidence that exposes Hero's betrayal, the proof of their undercover mission, their face is unreadable. Finally, after what seems an eternity, they speak.
"You've been working against me this whole time." Villain's voice is tight, like a cord ready to snap.
Hero's heart lurches, pulse drumming in their ears and fear making their knees wobble. What would come next, now that their secret was revealed? Torture? Imagining all the ways Villain could inflict pain upon them, making them spill their secrets made Hero shake even more. Death is certainty. Villain would not forgive this.
"I- this isn't- I wasn't..." Hero fails to find the right words, floundering now as they try and steady their voice.
Villain looks them directly on now, and Hero finds the pain in their face, the anger, to be more cutting than they ever imagined.
"Was the...was the way you looked at me fake too? The way you spoke with me, the way you'd let your touch, your gaze linger." Villain speaks with a fire in their voice now, eyes steel, "Was that all fake? Apart of your mission? To make me think you felt something for me."
Flushing hot at the accusation, Hero is quick to defend themselves, throwing their hands up as they try to reason.
"No! Of course not! That...that wasn't part of my mission." Hero speaks now with less fear, emboldened as they speak only the truth.
"I wasn't supposed to develop feelings...but I did." They find Villain's eyes watching them with an indiscernible emotion as they continue. "I won't lie and pretend I wasn't undercover, but how I felt about you wasn't fake."
Hero's cheeks feel warm, as they realize they're admitting their feelings now. To a villain who's likely to torture them any minute now, no less.
Stepping closer now, backing them up against the wall, Villain is silent for several moments. They reach up, grabbing Hero's wrists as they exam their face for any falsehoods.
"You truly have feelings towards me?" Villain finally asks. Hero nods mutely, not breaking eye contact. They feel their heart racing as Villain steps closer.
Villain pulls them by the wrists, reaching for their own belt and quickly binding their arms with a pair of cuffs. Hero has no time to react, and immediately feels their panic rising. Oh no, this must be where the torture starts. The roaring of their own heart is so loud in their ears they almost miss what Villain says next.
"You obviously can't be trusted around secret information anymore, or the weapons room, for that matter. I'll have to keep you in one of my rooms." Villain muses, as they pull Hero along now, not letting them drag their feet.
"...What?" They don't understand what they mean by this. Villain snorts, rolling their eyes.
"Well I'm not letting you go, obviously. Even if wasn't worried about you taking secret info back to the enemy side, I want to keep you here." Villain's voice is lighter now than from when they first discovered their betrayal.
Hero gulps, looking back up at them. "You're not going to torture me?" They ask hesitantly.
Villain barks out a laugh. It's a rough and warm sound, and it makes Hero feel even more weak.
"Of course not. I'm going to keep you here, I'll make sure you're comfortable, but I'll be damned if I'll let you leave me now."
"I don't understand...why?"
Villain pulls them closer by their bound wrists, their chests nearly pressed together now. Hero can feel their breath across their cheek, lips inches away.
"I'll let you in on another secret, my lovely little spy," Villain begins, voice barely above a whisper now. "I've come to love you, too."
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bby-deerling · 2 months
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virgin!zoro headcanons? 👀
hehehe of course, i'll take any excuse i get to talk about my special lil' guy <3 if you're interested in a full piece, i also wrote this fic a while ago w/ virgin zoro bc i'm sooo soft for him.
virgin zoro headcanons (nsfw)
masterlist || commissions (info)
tagging: @stsgluver @eelnoise @cloudzoro @willowbelle @atanukileaf @kibblz-n-bitz
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he has had no time or interest in relationships prior to being with you, and doesn't really ruminate on that much, and doesn't care how much or how little experience you have either. the way he sees it, all that matters is that you're with him now.
he doesn't feel a ton of nerves about the whole situation; he doesn't know what he's doing, but he'll figure it out. he's pretty intuitive and isn't afraid to try whatever his gut tells him you might like, keeping a close, watchful eye on your reactions.
working your way up to sex with him is a gradual process. he's fine with taking things slowly with you—truthfully, he just enjoys spending time with you, no matter what you're doing, though he'll never turn down a heated make out session with you unless he's busy training...
wants to figure everything out himself, and his pride makes it difficult for him to verbally ask you for help. if he's really floundering though, he'll swallow the lump in his throat and tell you to show him how you like it.
despite his sometimes gruff exterior, sex for zoro is intimate, and the result of a deep connection—he only bothers doing something in general if it's worth his time, and he wouldn't be doing this with you if he didn't love you, to the point where the swirling emotions in the air are enough to make every detail of your first night with him permanently etched into your brain.
that being said, if zoro does something, he likes to do it right and he tries his best to give you everything you deserve (and takes mental notes for next time).
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If you're looking for any prompts; hero/villain where the hero needs to get out of the villains grasp but can't and as a last ditch effort kisses the villain in a panic, hoping it'll startle them enough to let them go. Surprisingly it works. mlm if you're feeling up for it! (I ADORE you're hero/villain stuff and you're writing is a huge inspiration!!)
He kissed the villain.
It was a clumsy kiss, a mashing of lips, a bumping of noses and then -
The villain recoiled just as something sparked between them, so hard that he hit the opposite wall with a thud. He clamped a hand over his mouth.
The hero panted for breath. He should have taken the opportunity to run - that was why he'd kissed the villain in the first place - but something about the villain's expression froze him in place.
If the villain had looked disgusted, he might have laughed it off. If he'd looked dazed or distracted, the hero would already have gone. But he looked...
"Are you okay?" the hero asked.
The villain was shaking.
"Come on, I'm not that bad a kisser," the hero said. Maybe it was a trap. A con. He definitely should have already ran but...
"I'm sorry," the hero said.
"Why would you do that?"
"I - I just wanted to distract you. I panicked."
"You panicked?"
That was probably really offensive.
"Your panic reaction," the villain pressed, "is a kiss? Or, what, you just want to kiss me that bad that it was at the forefront of your mind?"
The hero swallowed. They floundered. "I'm sorry if I - are you okay?"
"It's rude to kiss people without consent," the villain said, a little closer to their normal tone. "You know that, yes?"
"It felt kinder than, I don't know, non-consensually kicking you in the balls."
The villain snorted.
The hero edged a step back, but, like a fool, still didn't run. The villain had let go of him, though. Running was a possibility without those steely, impossibly strong arms holding him in place.
Lord, why wasn't he running?
The villain's gaze roamed over his face, lingering on his lips.
"So I assume you're, like, seeing someone," the hero said, taking another step back. He ignored the weird feeling in his gut.
"No."
"You don't like kissing?"
"I don't owe you an explanation," the villain snapped. "You're not supposed to kiss me."
"You seemed like you were definitely enjoying it for a second there. Also, you're staring at my mouth, mate."
The villain's gaze shot away. His shoulders squared, jaw clenching.
"Just want to know that you're okay and that I haven't triggered a trauma or anything," the hero said. "I wasn't thinking. I - I really am sorry."
"This is the most I've ever heard you apologise."
The villain didn't normally look like that. He was still pressed against the wall, rather than lunging, even with the obvious conversation about distractions. His hand was still shaking slightly.
The villain stuffed his hand behind his back when he caught the hero watching.
Maybe the villain was stalling for time, and back up.
The hero didn't think he was stalling.
"I kill anyone I kiss," the villain said, after a moment. "Properly kiss. It takes a moment for the curse to take affect."
"...are you serious right now?"
The villain gave him a withering look.
"That's very scary and all," the hero said, "but it doesn't answer my question."
"Yes, I'm serious! Want me to kiss you so you can find out?"
The hero's brow furrowed. If that was true, then the villain's reaction, his shaking hands..."Oh my god you were worried about me. You're protecting me."
"If I wanted to kill you-" The villain began, testily.
"No, no, you don't need to get defensive. I know you're not - like - secretly a marshmallow."
They both eyed each other for a moment. The villain's gaze had paused on the hero's lips again, filled with enough longing that it made the hero's chest cleave and his mouth go dry.
"Is it just your mouth?" the hero asked.
"What?"
"The killer kissing thing. Just your mouth? Or, like, if anyone kisses you anywhere."
"Just my mouth. Not that it's any of your-"
The hero stepped close, and pressed a kiss to the villain's cheek.
The villain's breath hitched. He looked dazed. Distracted.
"Shame," the hero murmured, and brushed a thumb over the villain's lower lip, watching their eyes go doe-wide and wanting. "Because kissing you actually was on the forefront of my mind."
"O-oh."
He pressed another kiss to the villain's neck, feeling his pulse race, feeling his head tip back against the wall in offering.
"Thanks for not killing me," the hero said, against his ear. "Let's pick this up another time, yeah?"
Then, he ran.
He heard the villain curse and take chase.
But it felt better than before.
1K notes · View notes
fandomxpreferences · 1 year
Text
Fighting About A Funnel Cake
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader
TW:none
Summary: You're mad at Rafe, and much to your displeasure, he figures out the real reason.
Word Count:1k
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Few things have ever scared Rafe Cameron. He's had guns held to his head, fist-fought his own father, and been in business with people who have the power to make him disappear. He never even flinched. 
The few things that have scared him, were nothing to do with him and everything to do with you and your life together. 
He was struck with deep visceral fear when he found out about your son, James, and down petrified when he found out about your daughter, Eleanor. 
He was drowning in fear driving you to the hospital as contractions ripped through you, and he almost threw up the first time your son got an injury. 
However, nothing elicits terror all the way in his bones as much as that look in your eyes or the fire in your voice when you're angry at him. 
Usually, he knows he did something and gets ahead of the storm. He buys you something nice, plans a date, and prepares an elaborate apology. 
You see it from a mile away, but it usually works. Tonight, however, he's blindsided and has no clue what's gotten you so worked up. It's always worse when he's clueless about his fuck up.
He has no doubt he did something; he screws up all the time without realizing it. But knowing allows him to have a game plan and tailored approach. 
Right now he's floundering. 
"Kids, go to your room. I need to talk to your father." 
There's thinly veiled rage in your voice as you try your best not to show it in front of your children. They stand to leave and Rafe's frantic voice rings out. 
"No, kids stay. Please." 
Your eyes narrow as your seven and nine-year-old falter and look between the two of you. 
"Go." 
They start walking again and Rafe stops them. 
"No, stay. I'll pay you each $50 if you sit back down." 
Your son looks at his sister and they seem to have a silent conversation when you speak through gritted teeth. 
"Go, now.' 
Your daughter starts to leave while your son stays in place and Rafe tries to grab her arm as she passes by. 
"Eleanor, stay!" 
His pleading falls on deaf ears as she beelines for the stairs and he turns to your son that's now moving in the same direction. 
"James, don't go!" 
He watches as they both disappear and calls out after them. 
"Kids, don't leave me!"
He turns back to you with a timid smile and shrinks back when he sees the storm brewing in your usually bright eyes. 
"Hone-" He starts but you cut him off. 
"Don't, Rafe."
His mouth snaps shut and he waits for you to continue. The ball is in your court, it always is. You're the only woman that's ever been able to put him in his place, and while it's the reason he fell for you, it's also the reason he fears for his life sometimes. This is one of those moments. 
Your eyes bore into him for a few moments and you take in the genuinely clueless look on his handsome features. 
"You have no idea why I'm mad, do you?"
His silence is all the answer you need, and you huff. 
"Were you going to tell me you took the kids out of school for a joyride in Charleston?"
The words come down on him like a hammer and his eyes flutter closed. Fuck.
"Don't be mad."
You scoff and cross your arms. 
"I think we both know we're well past that." 
He does know that, but he figures it couldn't hurt to try. 
"They've been begging to go to that amusement park, and our weekends have been so booked up we haven't had the chance. I felt bad, and my dad never did stuff like that with us. I just wanted to make a memory with them." 
You feel yourself deflate a bit at his reasoning, but it doesn't make it okay. 
"I understand that, Rafe. But their education is important. When you do stuff like that, especially behind my back, it makes me look like the fun-sucking parent. We promised when we found out about James that we wouldn't do that."
He nods his head and you feel the anger dissipate at the genuine sorrow in his eyes. 
"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
You stand still with your lips pursed for a moment before nodding. It's silent for a few seconds when a smile breaks out on your husband's face. 
"Wait, are you really mad about that? Because we've done stuff like that before. Or are you mad that you missed out and didn't get a funnel cake?" 
The way this man sees right through you gets on your nerves sometimes, and you scramble to hide the fact you've been caught. 
"What? No, of course not. That's ridiculous." 
His smile only grows as he stands and wraps his arms around you. You stare up at him with defiance and he tilts his head to the side like a puppy. 
"Is it?"
You roll your eyes and will yourself not to give in. 
"Yes." 
He nods with a shit-eating grin and lowers his face to nip on your ear. 
"Would you still be mad if I told you we can go back this weekend and you can get all the snacks you want?"
He nuzzles into your neck when he feels your smile on the side of his face before pulling back. 
"Really?"
His heart warms at the way you light up like a little kid at the idea and he nods. 
"Really." 
He sees the moment your walls come down and you return his embrace. 
"Can we play the games too?"
He chuckles and kisses your temple softly. 
"Anything you want." 
The last of the fight leaves you and you surrender to him completely.
"Okay, fine. You're forgiven."
You squeal as he spins you around and loud laughter bubbles from your chest. 
"That's my girl. I love you."
You grin as he sets you back down and nudge his shoulder. 
"I love you too. Even if you do piss me off."
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roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Adult Education Part 18 | Hangman x OC
Summary: It's hard for Jake to come to terms with the fact that Jessica thinks he's good enough for her. He doesn't want to doubt himself, but changing your habits is hard. Jessica feels like she's inching closer to getting tenure before Brian returns, and she allows herself a break from work to celebrate her boyfriend's birthday.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, language, mention drinking and driving, 18+
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jake opened his eyes and groaned softly, snapping them closed again to shut out the warm sunlight on his face. 
"Good morning." The softly whispered greeting and the gentle fingers in his hair told him he made it to Jessica's place before he passed out. And now he had a hangover. He lost control of himself last night at the bar, and he drove himself to his girlfriend's place and went to sleep like some sort of asshole. 
"I'm sorry," he croaked, trying to swallow against his dry mouth. "I'm so sorry."
Jake felt her lips on his forehead, and he melted at the sweetness of it. He'd been terrible last night. Not at all the kind of man she deserved. "Do you want me to try to make you breakfast?" she asked, her lips skimming his ear.
"No. I want you to stay right here with me."
"Okay," she replied with a little laugh, and she let Jake hold onto her, tucking her head under his chin. Losing this now would be the worst thing that ever happened to him. "Did you have fun last night?"
He swallowed again. "I knew you were busy, and I didn't even mean to bother you."
The way she touched him was almost too much to handle. Her fingers were teasing along the shell of his ear as she played with his hair. "I'm not too busy for you."
Jake opened his eyes again to see Jessica looking up at him. She was actually perfect, and it hurt him to say, "There were some girls at the bar last night when I was with Bradshaw."
The puckered wrinkle that appeared between her eyebrows sent him into an immediate panic. "Oh." She started to pull away from him, but he couldn't let her.
"Jessica." His voice was just a harsh whisper. "No. Not that." She froze up in his arms as he said, "I just... I've never turned women down before." He felt absolutely disgusting admitting that out loud to her, but he had to. He kind of even needed to hear himself say it. "Last night was the first time. Because of you. Because of us."
Her posture softened incrementally as she asked, "What happened?"
It was more the way he felt about everything. "Nothing really happened," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Just me feeling like I'm not good enough for you. And then I drank too much."
She was quiet for a moment, and he braced himself for her judgement. Surely if he could see he wasn't good enough for her, then it must be glaringly obvious to Jessica too. But her fingers made their way back up into his hair. "I take it they flirted with you and Bradley? Tried to get you to buy them drinks? Touched you?"
"Yeah," he grunted. "Wanted us to teach them how to play pool. I had to aggressively tell them no. Then I sat at the bar with Penny after Bradley left to pick up his wife. I drank a little too much and then called you."
Jessica wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled in closer again. "Are you sure you don't want breakfast?"
He was completely taken aback. Jessica's fingers skimmed the hair at the back of his neck as she kissed his nose and cheek. "You're not upset? That I literally floundered over how to say no to someone? That I didn't even know how?"
She shook her head slightly. "Why would I be upset? You're handsome and funny. You're going to get hit on. Girls are going to flirt with you and touch you. Are you going to cheat on me?"
"No!" That was the easiest question he'd ever answered. Last night caught him off guard and threw him for a loop, but that was never a question at all. "Of course not."
"Okay, then," she whispered. "I think I understand how you used to be with women, and I'm not upset about it. I don't think you'd be as good of a boyfriend as you are if you weren't serious about me."
"I'm serious," he told her, tangling his fingers in her long hair. "I am."
She grinned and closed her eyes, before her smile faded a bit. "You didn't judge me when I told you about Brian."
Jake ground his molars together. "Because absolutely none of that was your fault, Baby."
"Well, you didn't do anything wrong either." But then she froze, eyes fixed on his face. "Wait. Did you drive yourself here last night?"
He swallowed hard. "I did."
"Jake!" she gasped, panic in her voice. "What were you thinking?!"
Jessica rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist with her hands on his chest, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. He rubbed her arms as he said, "I sat at the bar and tried to sober up first, but I needed you."
She actually sobbed. "Don't do that ever again! You could get hurt. Or hurt someone else. You could have called me for a ride." Tears fell from her eyes and slid down her cheeks, and it hit Jake right in the jugular that she was more upset about this than anything else. 
"Come here," he whispered, collecting her against his body. "I'm so sorry, Jess. I'll call you next time. Or I'll get a ride. I was so caught off guard without you around, I couldn't even think straight."
Her lips found his neck as she said, "Well next weekend is your birthday, so I'll be at your fancy Navy bar with you then."
"That'll be perfect."
She laughed softly. "But I'm used to the literal dive bar that is Chippy's, so I might not fit in."
"You will. And Penny has Sam Adams."
With another kiss to his neck, she sat up on him and wiped her eyes. "Breakfast?"
-----------------------------
Jessica wasn't oblivious to the signs. She knew Jake must have been a bit of a playboy before. It seemed like maybe she was the first girlfriend he was serious about. And she was okay with that. Very okay with that. If he was trying to get his footing under him, then that meant he wanted this to last. 
He stumbled into her kitchen, half dressed with his hair sticking up everywhere and Jessica in his arms. "I'll make breakfast. You might never have to cook again."
"Oh, I love the sound of that," she giggled as he looked in her refrigerator with one arm wrapped around her waist. 
"Okay, you really need to go grocery shopping, Jess."
"What's the point? You've been spoiling me nonstop."
He just grunted, but he had a smile on his face, and a few minutes later, she was eating an omelette. Between bites, she asked, "What do you want for your birthday?"
"Nothing," he replied, taking a bite of his own breakfast. 
She smirked. "Maybe a quiet night in together?"
"I want that every day, Baby," he said as he inhaled the rest of his food. "Not just for my birthday."
If he really didn't want anything, she hoped he wouldn't be annoyed that she got him something. She had it all wrapped and ready to go by the middle of the week. 
On Wednesday morning, she was standing at the front of her largest lecture, organizing her notes, when she saw Dr. Rosenthal bustle in. He looked tired, and once again Jessica felt bad that there would be no way to really repay him for everything he was doing for her.  
She hopes this would be the lecture that really wowed him. She'd been teaching these topics since she was a grad student, and she was damn good at it. He was still getting his notebook ready when she was about to call everyone to attention, and that's when she heard it. Skateboard wheels on the industrial tile floor. Luca skated in through the lecture hall doors, and then he popped his board up into the air. It looked like he was still in his pajamas, and Jessica wanted to die from the look of disgust on Dr. Rosenthal's face.
"Luca," Jessica said, shooting him a pleading look. 
"Hey, Dr. Reed," he greeted. "Surf's looking good today, but here I am!"
She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Maybe trying to relate to her students and find common ground with them during her office house wasn't the way to go after all. When she opened her eyes, Dr. Rosenthal was shuffling some papers around; he had all of her notes, including those regarding which students were passing and which ones were failing. He would see Luca's low grade any second now, and she hoped this wouldn't hurt her.
But Luca's grade was slowly but surely coming up in this class, and Jessica was actually really proud of all the work and effort he was putting in. And she immediately resigned herself to the fact that it would be more important for one of her students to be comfortable and confident enough in her class to get a passing grade than it would be for her to get tenure. Luca brought up a few wrinkled pages and handed them to her with a smile before taking his seat next to his skateboard. It was all of the extra practice problems she gave him during her office hours last night. He'd finished all of them in less than a day, and they looked to be correct at first glance. 
She nodded at him, set them aside and collected herself. She made a few announcements and ensured that everyone's attention was focused on her, and then she started teaching. Even though she knew Rosenthal was there, she tried not to look at him. Surprisingly, when she asked if anyone could answer one of the problems she wrote out on the board, Luca raised his hand. 
When Jessica called on him, he said, "I think it's like.... 200 meters per second?"
"Yes!" she replied, kind of surprised but very pleased. "Nice work, Luca." And honestly, that's why she was here. Even though she had to teach Brian's class which was outside of her wheelhouse later this afternoon, she would get more practice problems ready for Luca as well.
At lunchtime, Jessica decided to stop by and see if her friend was around. They wouldn't be able to talk much about the tenure review, but at least maybe they could eat together. Besides, her office was bigger and nicer, and the math hallways were quiet at this time of day.
Jessica could hear her friend's soft laughter before she saw her, and when her office door came into view, she was standing there with her husband. "I don't want to go back to work," he told her with a smirk on his lips and his big hand on her butt. "I want to stay for round two. Maybe sit in one of your lectures and be your top student." When she tried to sneak away unnoticed, Bradley called out, "Hey, Jess." His wife spun around with a smile, but he kept his hands all over her. 
"Hi! Did you stop by for lunch?"
"Yeah," Jessica replied, and she was sure her cheeks were flushed. "But you look busy."
Bradley kissed the side of his wife's neck and whispered something in her ear that made her eyes go wide, and then he was walking away as he told her, "I love you." He winked at Jessica and said, "I was just leaving. Have a nice afternoon."
Jessica held her little lunch container from Jake and examined her friend's dreamy expression. This wasn't the first time she felt like she was interrupting them, and she wondered how often Bradley actually stopped by for a few minutes at lunchtime. And then she felt her cheeks grow warmer. "Sorry I'm interrupting... again."
Her friend laughed. "You're not. He interrupted my lunch."
"Yeah," Jessica whispered. "But he brought you dessert."
Both of them were laughing hysterically as Jessica followed her into her office.
--------------------------
Jake knew Jessica was busy, but he always felt better when he was with her. He'd been avoiding her office hours so she had time to keep tabs on the new students she'd absorbed from Brian's class, but that also meant he didn't get to have a mid week sleepover. On Friday night, he caved and called her when she was probably on her way home from campus. Tomorrow was his birthday, and he'd been hoping to have her sleepover, but he wasn't about to invade her schedule at the moment. He stripped off his undershirt and collapsed on his bed as the phone rang and rang.
"Jake!" she gushed when she answered. Even the sound of her voice made him a little dizzy. "How's the birthday boy?"
He chuckled. "That's not until tomorrow."
"I know," she said, "but it's really a celebration all weekend long, right?"
"If you say so, Baby."
"I do say so," she replied. "I'm just getting in my car now."
He hummed as he thought about her in one of her little skirts and sweater sets and high heels, and almost instantly his cock responded. "You're getting in your car?" he repeated, picturing her sliding across the soft leather interior. 
His hand slipped inside his black briefs without him even thinking about what he was doing. It had been more than five days since he'd fucked his girlfriend, and he was starting to ache. He had no idea how he'd ever be able to handle a deployment now as he wrapped his hand around his cock. 
"Yeah, but there's a road closed, so it's probably going to take me forever," she mused as he heard the engine start up.
Jake grunted. "Just as long as you get home safe, Baby. You want to tell me about your day?"
"It was so good!" She sounded really upbeat and excited, and Jake tried to listen to every detail with his hand just sitting there, but it was impossible. Her voice was too sweet. She was the only one he ever wanted. He started stroking himself when she said, "I was thinking about you all afternoon. I taught the same problem that you answered correctly in my back to school mini lecture. You know... the night we met."
He moaned. "Best night of my fucking life." He pulled himself free of the elastic and stroked himself slowly as he said, "Imagine, a hottie with a PhD offering to buy me a three dollar beer."
She giggled which left him groaning. Then the line went quiet. "Are you... what are you.... it sounds like you're touching yourself?"
"I am," he replied. "I just started. Your voice is too sweet, Jessica."
"Oh," she sighed. "Guess what I'm wearing."
"Fuck. You're making it worse," he complained playfully. "Are you in one of those little skirts?"
"You know, I think I might be."
"And high heels?"
"Always."
"And one of those soft little sweaters?" he moaned.
"Yes, my green one."
That one was his favorite. It was the same shade of green as that lingerie set he loved. He was a mess, looking down at his cock, unsure whether he wanted to rub this out quickly or make it last. "I wish you were coming over tonight, but I know you're busy as hell."
"Jake, of course I'm coming over. I'm already most of the way there. Don't you want me to?"
He let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, Jessica. I need you. Yes, I want you to come over."
She laughed and asked, "Are you going to keep touching yourself until I get there?"
He took a few deep breaths. "If I do that, then I won't be any fun when you get here and I only last three minutes."
"Maybe that's true... but I'm sure you can muster up what's needed for round two. Right?"
"For you? Absolutely," he promised as he eased his hand up and down his length. 
"I'll be there in five," Jessica said before ending the call, and Jake stood and tried to walk around his condo. His dick was rock hard, and he occasionally stroked himself to relieve some of the need, but he wanted to wait for his girl. 
"Damn," he groaned through gritted teeth. He hung out of the top of his underwear and bounced with every step he took. Then he finally heard the knock on his door. He opened it without even checking to make sure it was her, and Jessica gasped when she saw him.
"Hi," she said as her wide eyes and parted lips gave way to a little smirk. She was wearing the little outfit he'd been able to picture just perfectly, and her hair hung around her face in soft waves. "Want me to take care of that for you, birthday boy?"
"If you wouldn't mind," he replied, closing the door behind her, and much to his delight, she tossed her bag aside and dropped right to her knees. His cock was inside her warm, wet mouth immediately, and he was being treated to the luxury of her tongue drawing lazy circles along his length. "Jessica."
She hummed as she took him deep and started to suck, and he knew it was absolutely a lost cause. He just smoothed his hand along her hair before taking a fistful at the back of her head and let himself enjoy this. He grunted softly at the perfect feel of her as she bobbed along, looking up at him with crooked glasses. 
"Fuck." He came as soon as her fingers grazed his balls, and he watched her sputter and swallow all of him down. Her movements started to slow, and he was almost twitching from overstimulation when she finally withdrew him with a little pat on his hip. 
She was smiling up at him as he released her hair. "Shit, Jessica. What was I thinking? You shouldn't have been walking around alone after dark, Baby."
She kissed his thigh, and then he started to pull her to her feet. "It's not that dark out yet, and besides, a very nice man with a knife walked me inside from the parking lot." When his eyes went wide, she cupped his cheek and said, "I'm only kidding."
He groaned and kissed her, tasting his cum in her mouth which just made him feel even more protective. In a lot of ways, he was still getting used to being in a relationship, but he really didn't want to fuck this up. "Next time, even if it isn't quite dark yet, I will come down and walk you inside."
"Even if you have an erection?" she asked, snuggling up in his arms. 
"Especially if I have an erection. It'll scare off the guys with knives," he whispered, making her laugh. The words were right there. They were always right there. He realized it after the fact that he almost told the girls at the bar last weekend that he was in love with his girlfriend. He kissed her forehead and said, "I wasn't sure if you were coming, so I only have leftovers."
Jessica moaned. "Jake Seresin leftovers are still peak gourmet, and I'm starving."
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the kitchen and set her down on the counter before he tucked himself back in his underwear. She was all smiles as he opened the refrigerator and started naming what he had in there. "Surprise me," she whispered, and he started heating up a huge bowl of chili to share with her. 
When he pulled out two forks, he kissed her cheek and said, "Why don't you tell me all about your week? And then I'll take you to bed."
----------------------------
Jessica thought about saving his present for later, but right at midnight, she kissed him and whispered, "Happy birthday." He smiled even though his eyes were closed where he lay on the pillow next to her, completely sated. He'd done a fine job of unwrapping her, kissing every inch of her legs before removing her skirt. Tasting her everywhere while she modeled her green lingerie for him. Fucking her nice and slow until she was practically begging for more. 
When she started to climb out of bed, he reached for her hand. "Where you going?" His voice was raspy and sounded a little tired. 
"To get your birthday present."
"I only wanted you," he replied, and she just looked at him and wondered how he could be so sweet. She loved the way he really seemed to care what she was doing and wanted to be involved. He'd been sweet through the fraternity fundraiser and even through everything with Brian. Honestly, the little wrapped box inside her overnight bag didn't contain much, but she hoped it would convey how she felt. 
"Well you got me and something else, too," she whispered, kissing his hand before slipping out of bed. She could feel his eyes on her naked body as she rooted around for the gift, and then she returned with it. She handed it to him and slipped back in bed next to him. "You can open it now since it's officially your birthday."
He just looked at the black and green striped wrapping paper for a few seconds, and then he set it down and turned toward her. Jake kissed her with so much feeling, it knocked her breath out of her lungs. "Thank you," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as he stroked her cheek with his rough thumb. "I can't even remember the last time I got an actual birthday gift. Even my mom and dad just send me a gift card every year."
She kissed him this time before she said, "Well maybe you should lower your expectations a little bit." But he just shook his head as he picked up the box and started to unwrap it. 
"Jessica," he whispered when he held the framed print of a Super Hornet in one hand. "This is so cool."
She smiled as he examined it closely, taking in all of the hand drawn lines and detailed markups. "It's kind of like the top secret F/A-18 schematics that you let me look at."
He turned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "Baby, I stole those for you."
She could feel her cheeks heat up as she buried her face in his neck. "I know," she whispered. "And I thought this would always remind you of me."
He gently set the frame down on his nightstand and pulled her on top of him. "Everything reminds me of you. And I think about you all the time."
But she still felt embarrassed for no reason even though she was basking in his words. She kissed his neck softly and reached up to run her fingers through his hair as she whispered, "Same, birthday boy."
She was starting to doze off when he said, "In the morning, will you help me decide where to hang my gift?"
"Of course."
"And we can make waffles again? And if you're a good girl, I'll eat your pussy again."
She giggled. "If that's what you want for your birthday breakfast, then sure."
He let his hand trail down her back to squeeze her butt. "That's absolutely what I want for breakfast. A real culinary treat." She rolled her eyes, but he didn't seem to be kidding. "And then tomorrow night, I'll take you to the bar and show you off to all my friends."
"And you'll buy me a Sam Adams while I cheat on Chippy."
Jake barked out a laugh. "What Chippy doesn't know won't hurt him, Baby."
-------------------------
The birthday boy better buy her all the Sam Adams she wants. And I just know for a fact Chippy will be able to tell she went to another bar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 19
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@hufflepufftruffle
@cottagecori
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