#like pack it in sweaty you feel this way every damn day

[knucklestheenchilada]

Thought about killing myself as soon as I woke up this morning for work (it’s 4:30am rn) like whoops boys the new medication isn’t working

[kingkatsuki]

— heatwave

I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.

Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.

The only bonus was having a roommate like you.

Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.

But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.

You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.

Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—

You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.

“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.

And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.

“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.

It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.

Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.

His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.

He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.

But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.

And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.

“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.

Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.

“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.

At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.

His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.

“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.

You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.

“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.

Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.

“Katsuki,” You whine.

His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”

You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.

The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”

“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.

“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.

“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.

“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”

“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”

“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.

Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.

“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.

“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”

“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”

“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”

“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.

“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.

He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.

“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.

“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”

You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.

“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”

“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”

You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”

“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”

You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.

“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”

You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.

Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.

“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.

You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.

“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.

“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.

“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”

“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.

Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.

“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.

“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”

Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”

The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.

“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”

“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”

“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”

“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”

The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.

“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.

The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.

“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.

His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—

You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.

Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.

“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.

“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”

“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”

He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.

“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”

Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.

“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.

“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.

“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.

[vivwritesfics]

Could you do super cocky frat/college Lando? Y/N doesn't like him cuz of his attitude. But after lots & lots of flirting, she starts giving in to his charms (and hotness). He's a bit narcissistic, so when he knows she's in the palm of his hand, he has her undress him, making her feel and kiss his muscles, and then he has her get on her knees and kiss him through his underwear, and then he pushes his c*ock down her throat until she has tears in her eyes, and he's smirking and boasting non-stop, and he makes her admit how big he is and how good he tastes, and he makes her beg for his cum at the end 🤭

horny jail for you (trying some new formatting for this one) (i also changed the plot)

warnings: smut, oral (male!receiving), dominant lando, begging

they were supposed to meet in the library, half an hour ago. she sat there, book open, waiting for her. she had already taken time out of her day to tutor him, at her professors request, and he hadn't been bothered to show up.

five more minutes, and then she'd pack her things up and go.

that five minutes came and went. with a huff, she began packing up her things. she slipped her notebook into her bag and packed away all of the sparkly pens she'd gotten just for the situation.

and then he walked in. still in his gym clothes, face flush and skin sweaty, he walked towards her. "sorry, gorgeous," he said and sat down beside her. "got caught up at the gym."

his smile was so damn charming. that was how she'd gotten into this mess in the first place, wasn't it? agreeing to tutor him once he'd flashed her that dazzling grin. even now it had her knees buckling, would have had her on the floor if she wasn't already sitting down.

swallowing the lump in her throat, she pulled out her notebooks and work books again. "should we get started?"

his attitude was bad, there was no other way to put it. he was cocky and why wouldn't he stop flirting with her? well, she knew why he wouldn't stop flirting with her. he wanted her to write the essays for him and thought the flirting was the way to get her to do that.

he could tell how nervous he was making her, but she wasn't going to give him. "you can do it if you just try," she said, pen tapping against her hand. "i'll even check it over for you if you want."

that was a wrong move. she'd already done all she could aside from actually write the essay. she'd made him a plan, given him key words to include and set sections out into word counts.

"yeah?" he asked, lip between his teeth. "how about you come to mine tomorrow to check it over?"

go to his frat house. she couldn't imagine anything worse. but then he pouted and released an admittedly pathetic please, and she'd agreed.

for two days, she'd gotten on with her own work. she kept her head down and studied.

after those two days, she made her way to lando's frat house. she'd been there once before, at a party at the start of the year. her friend had gotten so damn drunk that she had to leave before anything 'fun' (fun by frat boy standards) could happen.

she stepped up to the door and knocked.

max verstappen pulled it open. his expression was perpetually grumpy, until he laid his eyes on her. his grin match that of a wolf as he took her in. "come on in," he said, stepping to the side.

she swallowed and obeyed. "i-i'm here for lando," she said, somewhat terrified under his gaze.

max folded his arms over his chest. "lando!" he shouted, head turned towards the stairs. "there's a little mouse here for you!"

little mouth. her face burned as she looked anywhere but at him. the frat house was gross, but that was expected. it was a stereotype of every college movie she'd watched before attending herself. empty pizza boxes all over the place and a tower of red, plastic cups in the middle of the living room.

from up the stairs, one of the doors open. she looked towards it, met lando's eye before he shouted, "send her up!"

"see you later, little mouse," max said and stepped out of her way. heart thundering in her chest, she started up the stairs, heading to the door lando was holding open.

his grin had her shying away. "little mouse, huh?" he asked, hand on her back as he pushed her into his bedroom. "i like it."

his gaze was like fire against her skin as he brought her to sit on his bed. once she was there, lando turned to his desk and turned on his laptop. "i didn't really know what i was doing with this one," he said and turned it on.

he pushed his chair back and gestured for her to come look. she did just that, leaned over his shoulder as he pulled up... a blank word document.

"shit, not that one," he said and opened another. this one had about two pages of text. it was small and not easy to read from her place leaning over him.

as if he could tell this, lando let out a huff. he grabbed her hips, pulling her onto his lap. "there," he said, voice holding an edge. "better?"

swallowing, she nodded. but there was no way she could concentrate with the way he was holding her hips. she tried, she really really tried, but lando moved his hands to her thighs.

that was too much. that had her squeaking and climbing off of his lap.

"what?" lando asked, as if he really didn't know. but his smirk said otherwise. "you don't like it when i touch you?"

she picked up her bag from the floor. "i'm going home," she said quickly.

but lando had strode across the room, shutting the door before she could. "oh, come on," he said, flexing slightly as he stood in front of her. "you're wound so tight, baby. don't you want someone to help... loosen you up?"

she swallowed when she looked at him. but when lando reached out and touched her, she didn't pull away. she didn't protest when he dropped her bags to the floor and when he stepped towards her. she didn't protest when he pushed off her cardigan and dipped his fingers into the waistband of her skirt.

his fingers grabbed the zip. he pulled it down slowly, giving her ample time to say no. but she didn't. "is this okay?" he asked, a moment of sweetness as he let her skirt fall to the floor.

she took a moment before she nodded. was it okay? he had a point when he said she was wound tight. so why not let him unwind her?

when she nodded, lando gripped the bottom of her skirt and pulled it over her her head.

this was happening. this was actually happening.

once he had her standing bare before him, her clothes and underwear discarded around the room, lando took her hands and pulled them towards his jeans.

he settled them over the button of his jeans. she got the hint and popped the button. She went to push them down, but lando tutted her. "ah, leave them on, gorgeous," he said and she did just that.

he had to take her hands again and reach them into his jeans, into his underwear. "on your knees, baby," he whispered and she sank down to her knees. she pulled him from his underwear.

his cock stood to attention in front of her. if she was any closer it would have slapped her in the face.

she wasn't a virgin, no, but this was oral. she wasn't used to giving oral, wasn't used to having something like this in her mouth. and, clearly, lando could tell.

he leaned over, gripped her cheeks until she parted her lips. "you look so pretty," he whispered. it wasn't exactly encouragement, but she wrapped her fingers around his base and moved forward, taking his lip between her lips.

as soon as she sat him in her mouth, lando threw his head back and let out a moan.

it was just small kitten licks at first. she was teasing him, she had to be, and lando hated it. he needed himself sheathed all the way in her throat.

his hips moved just a little bit and she was already gagging around him. god, it felt so damn euphoric. she unwrapped her fingers from around his cock and tried to settle on his hips, to push him back, but lando was so much stronger than her.

"relax your throat," he grunted and pulled back. this time when he moved his hips, he didn't move them as far. he settled on a steady rhythm, fucking into her mouth a little bit further each time.

but, each time her nose was buried in the curls at the base of his cock, she pulled back, messing up his rhythm. lando leaned over, gathered up her hair as best as he could, and held her still.

it was messy, spit covering her face as he fucked into her mouth. but she was loving that, the damp between her thighs told her that much. each time the tip of her cock hit the back of her throat, she moaned around him.

"there you go, gorgeous," he grunted, speeding up slightly. "told you that you needed loosening up." he pulled on her hair, pulling her off of his cock. "go on, tell me how much you like it. fucking beg for it, baby."

at first, she just made a desperate whine and tried to move forward. but lando held her steady, wouldn' t her go until she admitted just how much she loved it. it was so shameful, having to beg for his dick, knowing the entire frat house could hear it.

his pace was brutal until his hips stuttered and he let out a moan, spilling down her throat.

he pulled back, but she chased after him, not letting his cock leave her lips until he coated her tongue. "holy fuck," he gasped when she let him go, showing him the site of his seed on her tongue.

she swallowed it.

requests closed for everyone but frat!lando (pls someone give me an excuse to write frat!lando x reader x frat!max)

[octuscle]

New Job

It had been a long day. It was already almost dark when Markus made his way from the insurance company he served as a management consultant to the hotel on this warm July evening. The Frankfurt train station district, which he had to cross to get there, began to glow in predominantly red neon light. Drug addicts, prostitutes, night owls and pimps mingled in the streets. At the corner in front of the entrance to a brothel, the doorman approached Markus. "Hello stud, you look like you could use a distraction. We have the wettest and horniest pussies in town!" Markus declined with a smile. Not at all, because it was a hard day and he just wanted to go to bed. He had the best argument of all to be left alone here. With that, he could keep pimps and hookers alike off his back. "Sorry, not interested. I'm gay." The bouncer looked Markus deep in the eyes and grabbed his crotch. "That's even better. I'm about to have a break. Feel like some sex with a real man, tie boy?" Markus looked at the fellow. Damn, this guy was sexy as hell. Short-shaven hair, the tight-fitting undershirt accentuated his well-toned figure and showed off the tattoos excellently. And grabbing the crotch of the perfectly fitting 501 made the bulge even bigger. The same thing happened with the bulge in Mark's navy blue virgin wool suit. "How much is this going to cost me?" he asked. The bouncer shook Markus' hand. "Ivan, pleasantly. Now you are my friend. I don't take money from friends." At that moment a guy who could be Ivan's brother came out the door, gave Ivan a fistbump and lit a cigarette. He eyed Markus and said if the stud would like to ride some of the horniest mares in town. Ivan laughed and said that the tie boy was his friend. He grabbed Markus by the tie and pulled him into the entrance of the brothel.

The way past the hookers, who showed breasts and pussies in the aisles, was the purest gauntlet for Markus. Ivan pulled him behind him up a narrow stairwell and then into a small room on the second floor. Two beds, a clothes rail, a TV on the wall. Nothing more. But Markus had no eyes for that anymore. The idea that he, as an excellently educated, highly paid management consultant, would have sex with a chav in this shabby brothel made him infinitely horny. And Ivan didn't seem to need to get going either. The two of them tore off their clothes, their tongues deep in the other man's throat. With Ivan this was easier than with Markus, but Ivan was strong and so jacket, shirt and undershirt soon lay in shreds on the floor. Ivan drove his tongue down Markus' neck, sucked Markus' nipples while he loosened the belt and opened the suit pants, freed Markus' boner from his boxer briefs and sucked greedily on the boner. Markus began to moan in ecstasy and thrust his cock into Ivan's face again and again. And Ivan was a professional. When Markus already thought he was going to cum at any moment, Ivan pulled his head back (not without running the tip of his tongue down the entire length of Markus' cock), turned Markus' body, threw him on the bed and fucked him as hard as Markus had never been fucked before. Damn, who was he kidding. Markus was fucked so hard every day. Unless he was fucking other fellows. His 120 euro haircut became a cheap buzz cut. His body became slimmer, wirier and more muscular. Tattoos adorned his chest, arms and six-pack. And with every thrust of Ivan's cock into his ass, he forgot more about his white-collar life. And more memories of a life in the red light district formed in his mind.

Fuuuuuuuck! Ivan shot his load in Markus' ass. Markus didn't need much more to cum himself. Ivan pulled his cock out of Markus' ass, turned Markus on his back and at that moment Markus shot his load into his own face and on his own chest. Ivan fell exhausted onto the bed and the two sweaty and cum-smeared bodies lay tightly entwined on the crusty sheets.

It was a warm summer night and the streets of Frankfurt's red light district were crowded. Full of sensationalist tourists, but also full of johns. Ivan and Marek were standing in front of the brothel smoking a cigarette. Ivan was addressing potential customers for the hookers. Marek had a different strategy. He made eye contact with other men. When they held eye contact, Marek wordlessly grabbed his crotch. Big words were not his thing. But his language was clear. If the man followed his example and also grabbed his crotch, Marek would just say "I'll fuck you for 100." He did not negotiate on the street. When his victim nodded, Marek just turned around and walked past his colleagues into Ivan's and his room. The rest usually followed on its own.

Pic of the recruitement found @platon65

[chilling-seavey]

Winter Warmers: Day 13 — Cold Hands/Feet

↳ A/N: A little twist on this prompt hehe

↳ Summary: Pregnancy has affected every part of your body; including your temperature regulation. Thank God you have George around.

↳ Word Count: 557

↳ Winter Warmers Prompt List | The Way It Goes Masterlist

You learned pretty early on that you ran hot while pregnant. It wasn’t just a casual and graceful feeling flushed on a day-to-day basis; it was to the level where you were waking up drenched in sweat come the third trimester. Thank God it was winter because you weren’t sure how you would have survived if you had to deal with these ‘hot flashes’ in the prime of summer. 

It was some early hour of the morning, in one of those days between Christmas and New Years when the days seem to blend together, when you were woken to the feeling like you were suffocating from heat. Immediately after snapping open your eyes, you tossed the heavy duvet off and splayed yourself out as much as you could over the king size bed without rousing George. 

George who slept so annoyingly soundly beside you with his damn silk eye mask, perfectly regulated body temperature, not a care in the world. Meanwhile, you were sure you looked like a disaster in your oversized t-shirt that just barely fit over the swell of your stomach, hair in all directions and slick with sweat, and flushed cheeks that only gave away the excess heat in your system. Oh, curse him. 

You tossed more of the duvet onto him, kicking it off your feet and everything, until the entire pile of sheets was crumpled on top of him. In all your passive-aggressive pregnant squirming—not to mention the entire weight of the entire duvet set now on top of him—George woke up. 

Still half-asleep, he swatted some of the blankets back over your way. You shoved them right back. 

George let out a confused hum and lifted his sleep mask from his eyes to look over at you in your darkened bedroom, stating sleepily, “You’re piling all the blankets on me.”

“I know.” you grumbled breathlessly from the heat, “I’m dying.”

George pouted understandingly, “Heat flash again?”

You draped an arm over your damp forehead and nodded. 

He reached out an arm towards you and gently caressed your palm with the back of his finger, “Want me to get you an ice pack?”

Your fingers curled around his one, your clammy palm clinging onto his perfectly regulated body temperature like a lifeline and you let out a weary sigh, “No, just…”

You rolled over towards him and jammed your feet between his calves. 

“Ow! Hey!” he grumbled.

Your feet wiggled down and pressed against his colder ones, desperate for relief, while your hands fished for his. He let your clammy palms press against his soft ones, lazily intertwining your fingers to pull any ounce of coldness from his skin thanks to the lower temperature of your bedroom. 

Relenting softly, George whispered, “C’mere.”

You shifted as close to him as you could manage with your growing belly between you and he pried a hand from yours to slide under your sweaty hair and rest his icy hand on the back of your neck. You withered, letting out a moan that was almost orgasmic, eyes fluttering shut as your cheek slumped against his shoulder. 

“This is good.” you slurred dreamily. 

“You’re so odd, darling.” he chuckled sleepily as your feet rubbed against his, his voice thick with exhaustion. His fingers gently scratched along your hairline at the nape of your neck. “Get some sleep.”

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[aragaki]

Darlin/Pack Members

Because my self-control is zero and I just think Darlin' is the most interesting listener character who also deserves the entire world and William Solaire's wallet.

Milo

Already wrote some about them here but they're my non-canon otp so ofc I wanna talk about them more

The pack's most photogenic couple. Milo puts in the effort to look good and dress well but Darlin' is just the most effortlessly good-looking. They can roll out of bed in yesterday's clothes and unbrushed hair and any candid shot looks like it belongs on an influencer's curated social media. It drives poor Milo crazy.

Before they moved in together, Milo would send messages to Darlin' throughout the day to let them know what he was up to and where he was going. They never asked but he knows it makes them more comfortable and he's always happy to do it.

Christian can't make his jokes about Milo's wolf size for nearly as long when he's mates with Darlin'. Darlin' isn't a brute, they're a protector, so of course they notice the way Milo's smile tightens when Christian piggybacks onto Ash's jokes. They give him three chances to knock it off and after he doesn't listen to them on strike three, they start swinging. Darlin' doesn't ask Milo to talk to David about how he's feeling but he has to anyway when David interrogates him about what caused Darlin' to break Christian's nose.

Darlin' has always been Marie's favorite and she has no problem saying as much. She's wanted them as her kid for as long as she's known them, little spitfire that they are, and is beyond happy when Milo finally makes it official.

This also means that Marie is Darlin's primary healer and gives them twice the ration of shit that she gives anyone else - including Milo! She loves them so much but will not hesitate to kick their ass for being reckless.

Milo is without a doubt Darlin's lifeline during pack meetings. It's a lot, being home and surrounded by people you thought would be fine without you - who are upset with you for thinking so - and Milo knows all the best places to escape with them. They never admit to needing a breather but he always knows.

Milo and Darlin train together!! They absolutely do!! Darlin' knows they can rock Milo's shit and he does too, and he loves it. When they spar or box together it's always going to end in a makeout session. He can't help it, they look so damn fine all fired up and sweaty. They've absolutely gotten caught but no amount of teasing will get them to stop.

Darlin' doesn't mind dressing up for Milo. It's not their thing usually, simple and maneuverable works best for them but every now and again they can be persuaded with plenty of kisses. Fancy restaurants make them feel out of place but Milo always seems so happy to see them under the light of glittery chandeliers and that makes them happy too.

One time he did manage to piss off Darlin' during a fancy dinner so they pretended to propose to him in front of the entire restaurant and it nearly gave him a heart attack. The cake and champagne they were given more than made up for it though.

When Darlin' sits down, Milo has the habit of coming up behind them and massaging their shoulders and neck. He has a hard time keeping his hands off of them at the best of times but he wants to help get rid of some of their stress so small random massages are his way of helping with that.

Darlin' likes things that are simple and physical, they're a tactile person so they've absolutely got a photo album of them and Milo. Marie even gave them some old pictures of them together from their teens for it. Milo finds it one day by accident and if it had him crying on their bedroom floor for 15 minutes that's between him and Aggro.

Speaking of Aggro, he has a love-hate relationship with Darlin'. They're convinced the cat hates them, the way he swats at them and hisses. They say Milo is Aggro's person and he's jealous that Darlin' takes up so much of his attention. But every night, he tries to climb up and sleep on Darlin's chest, head resting under their chin. And if Milo tries to move him to cuddle with Darlin' he gets a full-force bapping to the face until he gives up and lets Aggro do what he wants.

Darlin' has absolutely shifted and laid down so Aggro could climb up onto their back and nap there. They'll never tell a soul.

I talked about it in my other Milo post but Milo kissing Darlin's scars!! They've been through so much and it's affected their self-image so much. Milo can't stand that. So he kisses each and every one, even the ones that make Darlin' lip curl in disgust at themselves, and say something about them that he loves. Physical, emotional, about their personality. Anything. This praise king could go on forever. And he means it and that's what makes Darlin's heart ache the most.

And when they start to believe it, Milo couldn't be more proud. The crease between their brows when they see themselves smoothes out. They don't sneer at the bite marks that are dotted around their skin nearly as much. They get confidence in how they look, and in how desirable Milo finds them. He can't wait until it turns into true self-love.

Milo has no problem being the in-between for Darlin' and David. Both have strong personalities. Both can word things that, while meant to be loving, can be harsh and wound the one who hears them. Milo doesn't have a lot of patience, but he is fluent in Grumpy Wolf at this point. His interventions have honestly brought the unintentional hostility between them down and made it easier for them to talk about their thoughts, feelings, and opinions on their own.

When they're shifted, they're almost always stuck together. Doesn't matter if it's a hunt, a run during the Solstice, anything. They will not be separated. They're both ready to throw themselves headfirst into whatever danger might happen to protect the other, much to the exhaustion of the rest of the pack who really wish they would just stop throwing themselves into danger.

Asher

"Well mark me down as scared AND horny!" Has been Ash's response to basically everything Darlin' has done since they were teens.

Seriously, there would be no denying that Darlin' intimidated Asher when they joined the pack. A new wolf from outside of Dahlia joins the pack with a chip on their shoulder a mile wide and so fearless they'll jump in first into any problem??? They're intimidating but also!! They aren't mean to him!!

He was without a doubt one of the members of the pack who tried to help Darlin' integrate the most. He'd include them in anything he could, even if it made his other friends side-eye him. He was shameless about it too!! If they wouldn't spend time with him, he'd be following them around like a lost puppy. It was like they had a second shadow.

Some members of the pack scoff and roll their eyes at Asher but not Darlin'. Even if they don't seem interested in his rambling they're always paying attention. They've always listened. And he didn't realize how important that was to him until it was gone.

Becoming pack beta and David's second in command was a huge shift and he's well aware that plenty of people don't think he's up for it. But Darlin' was never one of them. They had their own quiet belief in Ash and what he could do, never questioned his fit for the role. Even as they withdrew from the pack they knew that David could handle it if he had Asher's support.

After Darlin' fell into the wrong crowd, Ash was the most vocal about getting them back and bringing them home. No argument mattered to him, Darlin' was a member of the pack and they needed to be there. He wasn't above saying it was just because he missed them. That didn't change when they stopped being teenagers. He still feels like a dumb kid with a huge crush who missed his chance.

Then, all at once, it all falls apart. Darlin's unempowered friend is almost killed, by Darln's own mate, and the Shaw pack is rallying behind them to try and push the department to act. Then it goes quiet. They leave, saying they're heading up to be with their family and Ash feels like someone hollowed out his chest. It's how he imagined it feels like when someone's mate dies - a constant ache in his chest. Which he knows he shouldn't feel because regardless of his feelings Darlin' isn't his mate. Hell, they just had to leave theirs because he was a shitty person!!

He's confused and it only gets worse when he finds out Darlin' had been lying to them. That Quinn was still at large, that they put the pack at risk, that they were putting themselves at risk trying to handle it alone. They didn't rely on the pack. On their friends. On him. And his impostor syndrome kicks him off on a spiral. But it doesn't take much to pull him out of it, not when Darlin' is finally back in his life.

As mates, Ash is the Will Smith red carpet meme. He wants everyone to look at his mate, to know that he's their mate and they're soooo in love!! It drives poor Darlin' insane.

And he can get away with it!! And damn near anything because Darlin' is so weak to Ash's puppy dog eyes. They have been since they were teens. If Asher wants a grilled cheese at 3 AM all he has to do is flash those eyes and Darlin' is hauling themselves out of bed, but grumbling about it the entire way.

Asher and Darlin' spend a lot of downtime gaming together. They trade recommendations back and forth, play each other's favorites, and terrorize everyone else who ends up in their lobbies. Darlin' can get a little heated and toxic during PVP but it's always defused by Asher doing an uwu voice and making Darlin' choke on their laughter.

David and Milo are happier than Asher when they finally get together, they've been listening to his lovesick pining for years and they're TIRED.

David

aka the character that got me into shipping Darlin' with their pack members

David and Darlin have such an interesting dynamic!! The devoted pack alpha and the wayward lone wolf. They both have strong personalities and we've seen them come into conflict with each other

But there's love there. There always has been.

I fully believe that in a David/Darlin' relationship, it'd be a case of he fell first and fell harder. It wasn't love at first sight, David's a bit too cynical for that even before his dad died. But there was a pull to the newcomer that drew him in and helping them settle in wasn't just because of his role as beta.

They were always there, in the background of David, Milo, and Asher's teenage years but never front and center. Always on the fringes, like they never found their footing. Something he wouldn't notice until it was too late.

Then Gabriel dies and Darlin' got together with Quinn. Instead of being distant, they're absent entirely. David knows that Quinn is their mate but something about that burns at his core, makes him feel queasy and unsettled. Like it's wrong. But htere's nothing he can do, he has a pack to run and protect.

The anger and hurt he feels when he finds out that they've been lying to him for so long. That they're trying to hunt down Quinn on their own, so stubborn and self-destructive. The fact that they consider themselves expendable and would risk breaking themselves to avenge their friend and protect the pack. He wants to shake them by the shoulders and tell them they're loved but he knows it'll be better to show them instead.

The pack meeting goes better than he hoped, with members both scolding and reassuring Darlin' of their place and their value. He watches them the whole time out of the corner of his eye and he says it's because he wants to make sure they don't bolt but he knows deep down he's just happy to see them back where they belong

The road to becoming mates is even more bumpy with Darlin' than it would be with Angel. He has to balance being their alpha and their partner and he already feels like he's failed them as a leader, they couldn't even trust him about Quinn.

The shift to being mates came with no small amount of arguing. Darlin' likes to fight with David on just about everything and it drives him crazy. It doesn't matter what it is, big or small it's always some kind of fight or contest and it makes his blood boil but at the same time he loves that little sparkle they get in their eye whenever they challenge him.

When there's a pack run and they're all shifted there's a 100% chance that Darlin' is gonna slam into David's flank and snap at him. Doesn't matter how many times he tells them to stop over the link, they're always going to start shit in a way even Asher wouldn't try.

Honestly, it's like David has two betas the way Darlin' and Asher flank him. And Darlin' isn't above mean-mugging clients if they think they aren't being taken seriously. (again, David tells them to stop. They don't.)

Scary movie nights are even more fun when David and Darlin' are sat next to each other, the contrast makes Darlin's abject terror even more hilarious.

[wnbawag]

Simply Enjoying The View

Pairing: Breanna Stewart x reader

Summary: You were Breanna Stewarts favorite cheerleader.

Warnings: Swearing, sex

Word Count: 779

Note: Just a little unedited (not proof read) blurb, I'm a sucker for Stewie x cheerleader. Side note - I have no idea if the WNBA has cheerleaders, I know they have halftime dancers but I am not sure if they have the traditional sideline cheerleaders. For the sake of this blurb, they didn't until recently.

My Masterlist

The WNBA getting cheerleaders was the best idea anyone had ever had.

Correction.

The NY liberty getting you was the best idea anyone had ever had.

Stewie felt pretty confident about this.

Even more confident in this idea as she stood in the showers, leaning against the shower wall as water fell down her sweaty body, simply enjoying the view.

That view, being you on your knees.

You with your head in between her legs, eating her out like your life depended on it.

Lord

Stewie had her hand in your hair, holding it back. It was the least she could do after ripping out your ponytail during your initial post-game makeout session.

“Damnit baby,” She moaned, head falling back on the shower tile.

“Make me cum baby, just like that. I did good baby, I deserve it,” 

‘Did good’ was an understatement for Stewie. She was ridiculous during the game, shooting 34 points. After every shot, she sent you that damn smirk and a point as you cheered from the sidelines. 

She swore the short skirts you wore were the only motivator she needed.

—

Speaking of short skirts.

Stewie loved nothing more than waiting for the locker room to clear out, then taking you with the uniform still on. 

She’d steal your panties, of course, she was a gentleman like that. 

Add them to her personal collection.

After showering she’d strap pack under her ‘going home’ clothes and procrastinate leaving until her entire team had cleared out. Then you’d get that text.

“Come now,”

And damn.

You’d be coming.

Stewie loved bending you over against her locker and pounding that damn blue strap into you, your cheerleader skirt flying in time with her thrusts.

She’d wrap those damn hands around your neck, pull you into her from behind while never letting up on those thrusts.

“You were distracting me out there, twirling in that little getup. I think you need to apologize, don’t you?” And with that, she’d squeeze the hand around your throat until you saw stars, then thrust so hard you saw a whole galaxy.

Needless to say, you were collapsing on her dick after that orgasm. 

Stewie would catch you, she was always there to catch you. She’d pull out, praising you the entire time, and help you walk to the showers. 

Stewie carried you once. You jumped her bones so hard after that - you couldn’t walk the next day.

—

Stewie didn’t like all the leers you got.

She knew that you and her weren’t official, you were just having fun, but the way people looked at you during games made her feel like she needed to propose here and now.

She didn’t, she controlled herself.

She did, however, find you immediately after the win, slung a long arm around your shoulders, and steered you away from the stands and over with her to do media.

She kept that arm around your shoulders for the majority of the post-game interviews, but it selfishly moved down to hold your hip as the night drug on. 

Her hand was so large against your hips, her pinky finger reached the hem of your skirt. 

And she didn’t let you forget that fact.

She spent the whole last interview just rubbing the hem of your skirt and the smooth skin underneath with her finger.

Drove you damn crazy.

Stewie offered you a ride home and you accepted with a soft smile, luring her into a false sense of safety.

This was quickly dissolved as she got in the driver's seat of her car and you lunged over the middle console.

Y’all remade the Chappel Roan song that night

Damn did you love eating her out in her own car.

—

During the off season, you found yourself at Stewie’s apartment more than your own. Stewie came to your apartment once, decided she was your sugar daddy once she saw your sad excuse for a shoebox you insisted was an apartment, and promptly kept you at her place. 

You woke up one Saturday morning before her. She had an arm slung around your body as she spooned you, softly breathing in your ear.

You woke up in a … mood.

So, naturally, you rolled her onto her back, straddled her, and began kissing any skin you could get to.

And maybe going to skin that was previously covered.

And possibly drifting further south.

She really didn’t need to be wearing boxers, you were doing her a favor by taking them off.

Well if she wasn’t wearing any boxers, you might as well just wake her up with some head.

Stewie’s hand moved to your hair, gathering it into a practiced ponytail.

“Well hot damn, ma. I think I might just have to wife you up,”

[voidvannie]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐮

𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞

｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ 🕊️🤍 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ jamie decides he wants to change isabelle’s name but first he has to ask the most important men in her life.

ੈ✩ ━ ❪ feel free to send an any request of things you want to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts about what your read! i would love that! ❫

June 4, 2024

When you see somebody Who erases everybody in the room I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do

Jamie hadn't meant to be up as early as he was, the bold black letters of the time plastered on the screen of his phone reading 5:30 AM while he sat out on the back porch of the hughes lake house.

Another Summer of spending time with his girlfriend, her family and a couple of their friends was a nice getaway from their every day lives of playing hockey and doing all of her social media things.

The hockey players mind flashes to the small velvet black box that he had packed away in his duffel bag, making sure to keep Belle from finding.

He can hear the backdoor slide open but he doesn't take his eyes off of the sun rising in front of him.

"Morning, Jamie." Jim's voice flows from beside him, taking a seat an the empty chair.

"Morning." Jamie sends him a half smile as his head turns to look at him for just a second.

"You're up early." He says after a moment of silence, sitting the coffee cup on the arm of the chair.

"Yeah, I just needed a breather before we get up to whatever Jack has cooked up or us today." Jamie tells him with a slight chuckle.

Jim lets out a chuckle of his own and they sit in silence for a moment before the father of four broke it, "I can see all the signs, son....so go ahead. Ask me."

Oh, I I don't wanna change who you are I don't wanna mess with your dreams Or get in the way of who you wanna be

Jamie feels the palms of his hands grow sweaty as he wipes them on the dark grey material of the sweat pants he's wearing, his words suddenly catching in the back of his throat.

"Um, I.....I want to ask Belle to marry me." He finally chokes out, eyes never leaving the sunrise in front of him.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Jim turns to look at his daughter's boyfriend.

"For about year. I’ve had the ring since December 27, 2023." He tells Jim, finding a sudden interest in playing with the thing bracelet on his wrist with 'IMH' engraved on it.

"A year?"

Jamie smiles, "Yeah. It first crossed my mind when I was traded to the Flyers. I called her right after I got the phone call when we were in Memphis and she told me that we would be okay, I'd be okay. That's when was like, 'damn, i really think i want to spend the rest of my life with this girl.'."

"And when were you sure you wanted to marry her?"

"A week after I was traded, when she packed up her apartment in California to move in with me in Philly." Jamie has no hesitation as he speaks.

Jim smiles at the adoration in Jamie's voice when he talks about his daughter, "Jamie, when Belle first came home telling Ellen and I about you, I was honestly worried. I love my sons, and I love hockey, but I didn't want my daughter to date a hockey player. But listening to how she talked about you, how she talked about the way you treated her, I told Ellen, 'i'm happy that he can put this big smile on her face and a bright sparkle in her eyes'. That's all a father could ever want for his little girl."

Jamie listens, hanging onto every word.

"And if you wanna marry my daughter, I give you permission to do so." He says as they both stand up, Jim bringing Jamie into a hug.

"Thank you."

────── ❪ 🌿🕊️! ❫

No, I I won't stop your runaway heart I just wanna be why you stay Only thing about you that I'd change is I'd change your name

Ellen and Belle had decided to take the time to have a little girls day, leaving the boys and Jim at the lake house.

Jamie sat on the couch next to Luke, playing with a lose thread on his jeans as he watched the others playing video games, trying to think of ways her could ask four of the dozen hockey players staying.

Taking a deep breath, he just decided to rip the band-aid off and quickly blurts it out, "I wanna ask Belle to marry me."

The yelling that had been going on quiets down as everyone turns to look over at Jamie, the sounds of Luke dropping the controller to the ground following.

“Did I hear that correctly?” Quinn leans forward to be able to look at Jamie.

“Dude! Come on!” Trevor groaned as he stands up from the couch, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and slapping a twenty into Jack’s outreached hand.

“Buddy, you made me twenty bucks richer!” Jack smiled widely, “Make me an Uncle in six months and I’ll win another twenty!”

“Don’t make him an uncle cause I’m not giving him another twenty.” Trevor huffs sitting back in his place. “Marry your girl, Jamie!”

“This is really what you want?” Quinn asked, his tone serious as he looks at the hockey player.

“A hundred percent. Guys, I love your sister with every little ounce of my being.” Jamie tells them, “Belle is the only person that I see myself marrying.”

“And our dad?” Luke raised an eyebrow.

“Asked him this morning, he said yes.” Jamie wipes his hands on his jeans, growing nervous again under the gaze of all the guys.

“Well, you have my yes.” Jack grinned.

“When do you want to do this?” Quinn crossed his arms over his chest.

“This weekend, before we leave.” Jamie answered, “She’s always talked about getting proposed to on the end of the dock.”

Quinn smiled, “Okay. You reeled me in. Yeah, you can marry my little sister.”

“Luke, you’re really quiet over there, buddy.” Jack grinned at the little pout on Luke’s face.

With the pout still on his lips, Luke crosses his arms over his chest, “Fine, you can marry my sister.” He pauses, "But I would also like to become an uncle, just not in six months."

────── ❪ 🌿🕊️! ❫

June 11, 2024

I can't see 20 years from now Hell, I can barely see today Can't promise you your sky won't drop a little rain When that smile in the mirror disappears I promise you I'll be right here

"Hey, baby." Jamie grins as he walks back into the lake house from being on the boat with the boys, leaning down to kiss her, "Got anything planned for tonight?"

"Hmm, no." Belle shakes her head, "Why?"

"I'm taking you out to dinner." Jamie tells her as she looks at him, "What is it?"

"What do I wear?"

"Something pretty."

“Okay.”

────── ❪ 🌿🕊️! ❫

Oh, I I don't wanna change who you are I don't wanna mess with your dreams Or get in the way of who you wanna be

“Have I mentioned how pretty you look?” Jamie grinned from the driver side of the rental car her shared with Trevor.

“Hmm, almost every chance that you get.” Belle smiles over at her boyfriend, bringing her hand up to play with the hair on the back of his neck. “Tonight was nice, just the two of us.”

“It was.” Jamie pulls into the driveway of the lake house, “But I have one more surprise.”

Belle raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend as he quickly jogs around the front of the car to her side, pulling the door open for her, “Thank you.”

“Always.” He smiles, kissing her for a brief moment before he takes her hand and starts leading her down towards the dock.

A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she takes in the sight of the small boat dock.

Candles lit up the walkway going out to the end. Seven bundles of roses lined up the sides as well as rose petals scattered along the middle.

“Jamie….” Belle stops in her tracks as tears begin to rise above her water line.

Jamie grins as he takes her by the hands, pulling her close to him, bringing her hand to wrap around his neck as he let his own drop to her waist, “Isabelle….,”

“No, don’t drop to one knee right now.” Her bottom lips trembles as she looks into her boyfriends eyes.

A chuckle leaves his lips as he sniffles, “You know, Trevor caught me watching your videos the night before we met? I had found them a couple weeks before and watched them all, and I never picked up that you were related to Jack, Quinn and Luke. And then I walked out of the locker room, and there you were.”

“We went back to our house after dinner that night, and I couldn’t stop talking about how amazing you were so Trevor gave me your number and I was so terrified to do anything with it. Took me two weeks to build up the courage to text you and ask you to have lunch with me.”

“After, I went home and I called my mom. I’ve never told you this, have I?” Jamie stops to ask her, which she shakes her head no, “Good. I went home and I called my mom, and I told her, ‘This girl, she’s it. She is everything that I’ve been searching for. She’s it for me,’ and she just laughed me off and said, ‘Jamie, your young, you’ll have more than one experience like this’, and I told her, ‘watch me marry her.’.”

“We’ve been there for each other through every good, bad, up, down. Through sickness, career moves, through every hockey game, every time you needed someone to participate in videos for your channel, TikTok pranks, and your pregnancy scare last year.” Jamie kept going with his speech, never once losing eye contact with Belle as he did.

“And the other morning, I was sitting out on the porch, lost in thought about how I was going to ask your dad and brothers, when your dad came and sat down next to me. He could see it on my face that I wanted to ask him, and he asked me how long ago had I been thinking about asking you to marry me. For an entire year, the thought of marrying your had been in the back of my mind, but six months ago I finally got the courage to buy the ring."

"But the exact moment that I really knew that I wanted to have you for the rest of my life was last year when you packed up everything you made for yourself in California and moved with me to Philly." Jamie's thumb wiped away the tears falling from Belle's face, tears of his own falling. "Can I get down on one knee now?"

A sob rips through her throat as she vigorously nodded her head, "Please."

Jamie chuckles before pulling the ring box out of his pocket, dropping down to one knee as he looked up at the blonde, "Isabelle Marie Hughes, will you marry me?"

"Yes, of course!" A giggle leaves her lips as Jamie slides the beautiful ring onto her finger before standing up and bringing her into a deep, breath taking, kiss.

Loud cheers fill the air as everyone comes out of their hiding spots, Luke instantly rushing to his older sister, spinning her around in a tight hug.

"Oh, let me see the ring!" Ellen grabs her hand, smiling at the diamond ring resting on her finger. "Oh, my baby is getting married!"

No, I I won't stop your runaway heart I just wanna be why you stay Only thing about you that I'd change is I'd change your name

Jamie smiles as he watches his fiancee gush over the ring with her mother, that smile growing bigger as she locked eyes with him, “I love you.” He mouths watching as she mouths the words back.

[polakina]

dipped in honey

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: explicit

outline: after months of being apart, a familiar face shows up at your apartment, in need of help and full of apologies.

warnings: smut, fluff, fingering, rough sex, pet names, hair pulling, spanking, marking, dirty talk, teasing, voice kink

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist

II

Months. It had been months since you had seen his face. You had awoken to find him not where he should be. Not in your shared bed. His clothes, his bags, all gone. It was as though he disappeared. At first you suspected you had done something wrong, but the two of you had been married for long enough to be completely open with one another. It couldn’t be you. It had to be something else, surely. But at the moment, it felt as though you’d never find out. Marc hadn’t responded to your calls, texts, even your fucking emails. No word from him, no letter, none of his contacts knew where he was either.

Fuck.

Marc did stupid shit. But never this stupid. He never took off like this out of nowhere. Especially without you. You’d worked together as a unit, bounced ideas off one another, told each other everything. So why the fuck did he just up and leave so suddenly? It didn’t make any sense. You tried not to let it get to you, but even after months of him not contacting you or letting you know that he was even alive, he still lived in your mind at every waking moment. Even when you weren’t awake, the fucker would be in your dreams.

For years the two of you had been working together in Egypt, searching for that damned scarab. Long restless nights spent hunched over documents, researching the area, not even having time for one another. Hell, you hadn’t actually fucked in a few weeks prior to him leaving, too busy on searching. Not that it was all that comfortable to fuck in Egypt, it was too hot and the two of you would get too sweaty. That’s when you resorted to the shower. It was truly a god send. No. You weren’t going to think about it. About him. He left, without a trace. You still loved him, you couldn’t deny that, but as soon as you saw him again you were going to be so pissed with him.

Making your way down the streets of the city you were posted up in, you breathed in the cool air. It was dark now, after your time exploring the city, you’d lost track of time and not even noticed the twinkly stars coating the night sky until you were back outside. Marc often did say you had no concept of time. It was the main reason he blamed your showers lasting so long. Not that it made you speed up your showers, but he didn’t care. You pulled out the keys to your apartment just outside the site where you and- where you were digging. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, double checking to lock it again behind you. Always be cautious. That’s what Marc often told you.

Having the aircon blasting was your first port of call, needing to feel the cool air hit your skin after a whole day of being out in the blaring sun. You felt sticky, your clothes practically latched onto your skin, the stray hairs that had fallen from where you had tied it out of your face now stuck to the base of your neck. You felt gross, to say the least. Nothing a cold shower wouldn’t fix. Stepping around your half packed bags, you made your way to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your face was covered in a thin sheen, the sweat glistening on your forehead prominently. You would call it disgusting. Marc would have called you shiny.

With the cold water running in the background, you collected some fresh, clean clothes from the dresser; a simple tank top and shorts was the only thing bearable to be in during this heat. Marc would say “being naked is the only logical option”. Only twice had he talked you into following his ��logic’. But right now it was a tempting thought. You pulled the bed sheet over your mattress to make it seem a little tidier before making your way back to the bathroom.

It felt good. The water running over your bare skin, falling to the tiled floor below with quiet droplet echoes. It washed away the grossness of the day, sweat gliding down the drain, never to be seen again. Rinsing your hair of conditioner, you just stood in the water for a few minutes. The droplets ran down your face, over the curve in your nose and the dips in your cheeks, down your neck to the floor. You couldn’t help but think back to one of the last nights Marc was here. The way you felt while he was there. You were both in the shower that night, only you had planned to shower at the time, but Marc of course, decided that wasn’t an option. Even after being married for so long, he still got excited when he saw you naked.

You remembered how he could barely keep his hands to himself that night. The second he was behind you in the shower, his hands were on you, touching you. The memory of his hands ghosting over your skin, up your stomach to your breasts and then back down again, it was burned into your memory. His breath felt warm on your neck, the stubble on his face scratching at your cheek. His words were like drugs dipped in honey when they reached your ears, his husky Chicago accent making your insides all fuzzy. He always knew what to say to make you want him more. He always knew where to touch you to make you just that much more responsive. He proved that very well that night. His fingers worked deftly on your body, dipping in and out of you to make you moan his name so prettily for him. His lips found their way to your neck, the most sensitive part of you he could reach that he knew would make you keen into his touch more. The praises he mumbled truly worked wonders on you, each word making you wetter by the second, more needy for him. He revelled in it, the way you were just so malleable for his hands.

After years of learning your body inside and out, it was pretty easy for him to make you feel the most pleasure in just a matter of minutes. Somehow he always made you feel just a little bit more every time he fucked you. He never half assed his efforts either. He could be exhausted or pissed off, but no matter which it was, he would always have that lustful glint in his eye. He would always fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. Then he would laugh at you as you tried to make your way to the dig site in a straight line.

Your mind wandered to those thoughts, your hand wandered elsewhere. Thankfully, the water drowned out most of the pathetic whines you made, nothing in comparison to when Marc was in this shower with you.

Eventually you left the shower, towel wrapped around your body, hair still dripping. But you knew it would dry soon, in about five minutes stood out on your balcony your hair would be completely bone dry. Redressing in clean clothes, you grabbed some water and headed for the balcony to look out on the pyramids. It was a peaceful sight, to just listen to the crickets and watch the night unfold. You often found yourself out here most nights, sat on one of the chairs with a cup of coffee while just listening to the city go about its business. Peaceful. But too quiet.

It turned past midnight before you went back inside to take yourself to bed. But fate seemed to have different ideas. The door of your apartment was rapped on three times. Your brows furrowed, not expecting anyone to come by any time soon. Or at all, in fact. Cautiously you made your way over to the door, knowing you may not see a friendly face on the other side. But you were surprised to see a familiar one there instead. Through the small, few inches slit that you had opened the door, he was stood there waiting.

“Evening, darling,” he breathed out with that smile you loved so much. No. You were mad at him.

“That’s it? That’s all you say after, what…three months?” You knew you were going to let him into the room…you were just waiting it out a little first. Marc breathed out sharply through his nose, leaning against the doorframe with one hand, an unrecognisable look on his face. “No explanation as to where you’ve been? Nothing? You’re an ass, Marc. You left me here in Egypt for three fucking months with no indication or note of why you left.”

“I know, I know, darling.” He sounded sincere, and weirdly…pained? Actually, looking at him you saw his face contort slightly if he moved a certain way. “I shouldn’t have left so sudden-”

“Are you hurt?”

“Huh?”

“Are. You. Hurt?” You raked over him with your eyes, keeping a watchful lookout for any blood or injuries. He kept his hand on his side, which you noticed from the second he opened the door. “Why are you holding your side like that?”

He stood straighter, tightening his hold on his body. “I’m not…holding it like anything. This is-this is how I stand.” He tried to stand straight, but his right side was still slightly favoured to lean on.

“Oh, you just always stand like you’ve got something up your ass?” You asked cockily, raising an eyebrow as he tried to play off your comment as a joke.

“Come on, you promised you wouldn’t mention anything about shit up my ass after the last time we tried that. I’m still sensitive about that experience.” His eyes flashed back to that night. As much as he denied it, he did enjoy it. But he’d never tell you that, for fear you might want to try it again.

“Move your hand then,” you told him, no room for any nice tone in your voice. You weren’t playing around, he could tell. So he did. Moving his hand slightly, you could see a small red stain on his white shirt. Your eyes blew wide as you opened the door the rest of the way. “Holy shit, Marc. The fuck did you get yourself into?” Your hand instinctively reached for his shirt, but Marc’s hand caught yours quicker.

“It’s fine, okay? It’s an old wound, I just haven’t changed the shirt yet. See?” Marc lifted his shirt gently to reveal a recently formed scar, about four inches long. The cut looked pretty clean, probably caused by a knife or something. There were stitches to keep it together, but after his hectic travelling during the day to get back to you, droplets of blood had started to seep through.

“Fuck, Marc. What the hell has gotten into you? First you leave without saying anything and then you come back with a fucking scar? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” He had hurt you, but you couldn’t help but want to pull him into the apartment. Soon your heart won over your head and you grabbed his arm to yank him inside. “Sit down.” You pointed to the dining chair across the room. He knew that tone. He didn’t mess with that tone. So he obliged, seating himself on the chair, wincing a little as he did.

You didn’t hate him…you couldn’t allow yourself to hate him. But you could certainly act like it until you were less mad at him. So you silently made your way around the kitchen to collect a first aid kit and fresh rags to clean and redress the wound. Nothing was said as you made him strip from his shirt so you could get to work on his injury. He didn’t want to break the silence and piss you off further, so he leant back, watching you as you cleaned the scar and covered it with fresh gauze and bandages. The blazing heat had darkened your skin, tanning it to the point where lines on your skin where it was lighter could be seen clearly, marked by the clothes you had worn in the day. There were worry lines grooved into your face, around your eyes and across your forehead. Marc couldn’t help but curse himself at the thought that he was probably the reason that they were even there at all.

He was so in his head that he hadn’t even noticed you finish up and move to leave the dining table. Without thinking, he grabbed your wrist gently before you could walk away. His hold wasn’t firm, you could easily have pulled away if you wanted. He wouldn’t have stopped you. But you didn’t, you let his hand wrap around your wrist with his soft and gentle touch.

“Can we talk? Please? About everything. I need to apologise to you properly,” Marc practically begged you, you could hear the crack in his voice as he pleaded, the volume at which he spoke barely surpassed a whisper, however. It was as though he was worried if he spoke to loud to you, it would scare you off and you wouldn’t talk to him at all. But you stayed. You wanted, no, you needed to hear what he had to say.

“Why did you leave me?” Your voice at the same level as his. Practically a whisper, but the words ran clear as day as they entered Marc’s ears.

“I didn’t want to put you in danger,” Marc said, slowly, timidly. “If I’d have brought you with me, it could have been you that got hurt instead of me. I couldn’t risk letting that happen. I came back as soon as I was done, hoping you would still be here.” Of course you would still be here, you wouldn’t leave this place if you had even the smallest inkling that he would come back.

Gently, Marc pulled you into him, spreading his thighs for you to stand in between. His hands moved down your waist to your hips, his palms burning into your skin. “I’m sorry, darling. I really am.” His accent made his voice husky, and you couldn’t deny how it made you feel inside. You tried to remain unbothered by his words and the accent that came with it, but it was difficult. It was always difficult.

“You’re really sorry?” You asked, placing your hands on his stomach and leaning into his touch a little more. He nodded, looking up at you with doe eyes, fingertips drawing circles into your skin, dipping under the waistband of your pants.

“I am,” he replied, voice dripping with sincerity…and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He pressed a soft kiss to your stomach just next to your bellybutton before pulling the waistband of your shorts down with his thumb just a little to press another kiss to the sensitive skin there. “Let me show you how sorry I am. Please, baby?”

You couldn’t deny him. You didn’t want to deny him. His whiny voice, his doe eyes. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you right now. Shit could be discussed later. Right now you had more important matters to attend to.

“Yes. Please, Marc. Show me.”

His lips started below your bellybutton, trailing painfully slowly upwards. Your eyes fluttered shut as you revelled in his touch. He moved upwards, pushing your loose fitting shirt up to gain more access to your body. His kisses were addictive, you just wanted more and more with every kiss inflicted upon your body, needing it, craving more from him.

Marc needed you. He needed you now. Needed to prove to you how much he missed you, how much he regretted leaving you. He started by lifting you off the ground, standing himself so he could lift you into his arms. You gasped at the change of position, chasing his lips with your own as you got comfortable in his sturdy arms. His lips found yours instantly, gliding against your own perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. Your legs wrapped around his waist, nestling yourself there with your ankles overlapping to keep yourself close to him. You could already feel a tingling feeling in your lower stomach, building and raging more violently as he walked the two of you over to the bed. Only he could make you feel like this, desperate and needy for him without touching you where you wanted him most.

He loved it. The power he held over you, how he could make you so wet and pliant with just a few kisses and words of praise. Knowing your body like the back of his hand was a gift only he could and ever would possess. So he intended to take full advantage of that.

Leaning down over the bed, he set you down on the soft mattress from where you had spent many previous nights there, writhing and entangled in the sheets, sweat glistening on your bodies, completely spent of all energy. Tonight would be no different. You got comfortable on the soft duvet, head resting on an array of feather pillows as Marc hovered above you, his eyes hungry for you, raking over your body as though he was deciding how much he planned to ruin you tonight.

“So goddamn beautiful”, he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips softly, wedging his body between yours. He pressed his lower body against yours, friction already flying between your bodies. He moaned into your mouth, clearly just as wanting for you after spending so many nights thinking of you and how soft and pretty you were while getting himself off in the shower, teeth lodged in his lower lip so none of his neighbours heard him moan your name.

His lips travelled lower, dipping to your collarbone and planting soft kisses there. They dropped lower, red and purple blemishes peppered along your chest in his wake. With one hand propping him above your body, the other pulled down one of the straps of your top, exposing your breasts. “So pretty, so perfect for me,” he mumbled, taking one of your breasts in his large hand while attending to the other with his mouth.

Gasps were pulled from your throat at the heavenly sensation of his tongue running over your pert nipple, sucking and kissing little bruises into the plush flesh, while his hand grasped and tweaked at your other breast deliciously. The feelings were almost too overwhelming, gasps and moans dragging from the pit of your stomach as he played and toyed with you so perfectly. You were so malleable and pliant for him, your body completely becoming his to enjoy and to make you feel entirely euphoric. After giving the same attention to your other breast, he ensured that he was completely satisfied with the art work he had made of you, pretty blemishes and bruises and love bites littering your skin just to his liking, marking you as his and only his.

“Marc,” you breathed softly, his face immediately coming back up to meet yours. “Yeah, baby?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Want you. Need you now. Please.” God, the way you asked for him, begged for him to ruin you in the best way possible. He had left you for so long, denied you of his touch for months, so there was no way he could ever say no to you now. He planned to give you everything you wanted and more, until tears formed in your eyes and you had been reduced to an incoherent mess. It was something you had previously discussed quite a lot. You originally planned to come out with “fuck me until I cry”, but decided on a softer and more in depth approach. But he had delivered what you asked for perfectly, not stopping until you had to push him away from the overstimulation. Since then, anything you asked for or wanted to try, he always made you feel better than you ever had before.

“Hmm…want me to fuck you, darling? Want me to make you scream my name so all of our neighbours can hear you? They’d be lucky to hear you, how pretty you sound for me when I’m inside you, knowing that they can never have you the way I can. God, you look so pretty right now, I want to ruin you, until everyone knows who you belong to. You want that too, darling?”

You grew wetter just from his words. They were like poetry, each sentence lodging itself deeper into your core, nestling in the pits of your womb. “Yes. Please. Please, Marc. Touch me,” you asked, feeling his hand dip lower and lower with each word that spilled over your lips. Your pleads melted into whispering babbles as fingertips slid under your shorts and connected with your soaked folds.

“I got you, darlin’. You just keep making those pretty noises for me, or I’ll stop. Want you to be as loud as you can as I make you feel good. Yeah?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, breath running down the side of your neck. You nodded, mouth agape as his fingers ghosted over your clit, teasing you incessantly. But he couldn’t tease you for long, he wouldn’t last long that way. Cupping your pussy, one finger dipped into your dripping hole, feeling how wet you were just from his words. It turned him on even more, knowing how hot and bothered he could get you in just a few minutes. “Good girl,” he mumbled before slotting his lips against yours.

The second his finger pushed into you slowly, your legs fell open, no longer trapping his waist between your thighs. “Atta girl, just let me make you feel good, hmm?” His voice was heavenly, husky with his thick accent on his tongue. Pumping his thick finger in and out of you, the sounds it made were only making Marc harder in his pants. Adding a second finger, he scissored them inside you, curling them at the perfect angle to make your back arch against him. You moaned into his mouth, and Marc took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, intertwining it with yours.

His thumb on your clit, long fingers working at a fast pace inside of you and hitting a spot that could make you scream, you were already so close. Gasps and moans were escaping your lips with each ministration of his fingers, bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans were like music to Marc’s ears; he loved it when you were vocal like this, it could make him cum on the spot if he let himself go like that.

But you loved it too. Being loud for him. There had been times when neighbours had banged on the wall or your front door, but neither of you cared. Marc had just fucked you harder saying that “they should be lucky to hear such a pretty thing like you”.

Your thighs tightened around Marc’s body as you felt something building in your core. Your moans were breathier, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Marc’s fingers worked faster and faster inside of you, curling to attack that spongy spot deep inside your pussy with precise aim. “Come on, darlin’. Come undone for me. I know you can.” His lips attacked your neck once more as your fingers dug into his back as you felt yourself clench his fingers tighter. Waves and waves of pleasure overtook you, surging through your body until all you could feel was complete euphoria. “That’s it baby, doing so good for me.” He fucked you on his fingers through your orgasm, kissing all of the blemishes he’d previously left on your skin. “Feel good?” He asked, kissing across your face to your lips once again. You nodded, words escaping you once again as you laid in your state of bliss for a few seconds longer. He loved seeing you like this, looking blissful and post orgasmic like this. But he wasn’t done with you yet. You weren’t done yet either.

Marc hovered above you, drinking you in with his eyes, the look on his face showed how much he clearly missed you for those months he was away.

“Marc.” You pulled him from his trance and he looked down at you, blinking into focus. He hummed quietly in response. “I love you, but are you just gonna stay there, or are you going to fuck me?” You taunted, seeing how his eyes darkened at your boldened words and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Oh baby, I love it when you say it like that.” His hands drifted to the thin material of your shorts, pulling the clothing from your body in one swift motion and exposing you entirely to him. “You wanna turn over for me, darlin?” Marc leaned back so you could sit up, letting you change positions after you speedily pulled the shirt off your body, your hands and knees sinking into the soft mattress beneath the two of you. The bed rocked a little as weight shifted behind you, the sounds of a belt buckle being undone and pants falling to the ground could be heard. You felt him get back onto the bed, coming up behind you and palming your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with a light slap to make you jump. He pushed his hips flush against your ass, the feel of his hardened cock against you only made you want him more.

He peppered kisses along your spine, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other firmly grasping your hip to keep you in place. “Ready, baby?” You heard him ask, and you nodded eagerly in response. You dropped yourself down to resting on your elbows instead of your hands, arching your back a little more and pushing your ass against him more. That earned you a swift smack on your left ass cheek, causing you to yelp out from surprise. “Be patient. Or else you get nothing, darling.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off when the tip of his cock brushed through your folds and teasing your hole slightly before pushing in. You both groaned at the feel of his cock being guided into you, the way you clamped around him as he drove himself further into your dripping pussy. Marc didn’t breathe until he was fully sheathed inside you, his cock throbbing against your walls, hands gripping your hips with vigour. There was no movement on his end for a few moments as he let you adjust to his size, aside from the occasional twitching of his dick as it nestled inside you.

“Fuck you feel so good, darlin. Practically made for me, weren’t you? Fuck, feels so perfect,” he mumbled as his thumbs drew circles into your skin, fingerprints most likely becoming indented into your skin from how firmly he was holding you in place. Just the sheer thought of his hands leaving marks on your skin aroused him more than he thought was possible. “Can I move, baby?”

You couldn’t even speak, the feel of him filling you up so good vacated any thought from your brain and rendered you speechless. So you just managed a nod. But that wasn’t enough for Marc. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up off the bed so your head was resting back against his shoulder. “Baby, if you want me to fuck you like I know you like, then you’re going to have to fucking ask for it. Hmm?” You clenched around him harder at those words, gripping him like a vice at the gravelly tone in his voice.

“Please, please Marc. Move. Fuck me,” you begged, the stinging of his hand gripping your hair merging into intense pleasure.

“Are you gonna be good?”

You almost made the mistake of nodding again. “I will. I’ll be good for you.”

That seemed to satisfy him. He pushed you down against the mattress, releasing your hair and grabbing your arms instead, manoeuvring them so they were behind your back. With one hand, he held your wrists together behind your back and pulled out of you until only the tip of his cock remained in your pussy. “Good baby.” They were the only words you heard before his cock rammed back into you, hitting that spot that sent you seeing stars on the first try. You cried out in pleasure, face pressed against the soft bed as your arms flexed as much as they could in the tight grip Marc had them locked in.

Over and over again, Marc drove his cock deep inside you, continuously hitting that delicious spot that made you scream his name, begging for more. At the power and speed his dick pistoned into you, it was sure to leave bruises on you, but you’d welcome them as a reminder of this very night. “That’s it baby,” Marc said through gritted teeth. “Let all of Cairo know my name.” And you did. You felt as though ‘Marc’ was the only word you knew how to speak. “So cockdumb for me, aren’t you, pretty thing? Does my dick make you feel that good?” His words were a drug and you were addicted.

You were rendered to a babbling mess underneath him, completely and entirely submitted to him as he manhandled you to his desired fantasy. Restricted, controlled, handled in a way Marc knew you wanted to be, he knew you inside and out, knew what you liked and what turned you on the most. He was really using all of this to his advantage right now. And you were eating it up.

Driving his cock into you harder and harder, the bed started to creak with the force of his thrusts, pushing your body further into the mattress as he fucked you. Tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes from the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, the result of Marc’s cock hitting the spongy spot inside every time with expert precision. He was so good at knowing your body and focusing on making you feel like you were ascending to heaven.

“Right there, darlin? Yeah, it’s right there. Grippin’ me so tight. You close, baby?” His voice was somehow deeper and huskier than before as he tried to hold out until he made you cum at least once more.

“Y-yeah, right there Marc. Just there,” you cried out, barely able to say the words at this point. “So close, ‘m so close.” It was building up violently and quickly, pushing you to the brink of bliss until you were practically teetering on the edge of it.

“I got you, darlin. Don’t you worry.” Marc’s body hunched over yours as his thrusts became deeper and slower, his hand drifting from your hip and round to your stomach, pressing against it lightly to feel the indentation of his cock against your skin. It almost made him cum on the spot.

You cried out as the coil snapped, your pussy tightening even more around his cock as he continued thrusting as you worked through your orgasm. He continued to piston perfectly against that spot, really making you see stars this time, overstimulating you until tears rolled down your face.

“There ya go, baby. Fuck, you sound so pretty when I fuck you,” Marc revelled in your sounds as they brought him closer to his own orgasm. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, darlin’. How does that sound, huh? Having my cum inside your pretty pussy?”

You nodded profusely as you tried to find the words. “Please, Marc. Cum inside me, fill me up.” He did just that. Groaning deeply as he released deep inside you, stuttering to a still, his body hunched over yours as he came. You both breathed heavily through your orgasms, sweat slicked across your skin, but neither of you cared. Your heads were filled with ecstasy and that’s all that mattered right now. The Cairo heat didn’t help, sticking your skin together as you filled your lungs with air once again.

Marc lifted off you, releasing your hands and leaning back to see his cum dripping out of you as he pulled out slowly. You moaned slightly at the empty feeling he left you with, letting your body weight drop onto the bed and rolling onto your back. The edge of the bed shifted as Marc moved off it, walking over to the bathroom. You didn’t even realise what he was doing until something dragged along your inner thigh. Instinctively, your hand moved to push him away, not thinking you’d be able to take much more of him just yet.

“Easy, darlin’. Just cleaning you up, okay?” There was a sweet tone to his voice, a harsh contrast from earlier, but you sensed a smile in his voice too. You removed your hand and let him continue, settling into the comfortable bed as he dragged the warm and damp towel across your skin. Once he was finished, Marc tossed the towel into the laundry hamper and ran his hands over your knees and thighs, pressing kisses to your thighs softly. “Feeling okay?”

“Feeling great,” you breathed out, smiling when he chuckled slightly. He laid down next to you and you rolled over to face him, meeting his kind eyes. “Promise me that the next time you decide to go on some hunt, that you’ll take me with you.” Marc chuckled once again and nodded.

“Okay, darlin. I promise. We’re a team, right? I won’t leave you behind.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and the two of you laid there, basking in the Egyptian sun which hit Marc’s skin so perfectly, making him look as though he’d been dipped in honey.

[undertheorangetree]

Under the God's Eye

Chapter One- The Deal

Summary- In order to have a peaceful holiday, Aemond asks his academic rival for a favour.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ This story is going to be NSFW. Female reader. No real knowledge of how law school works. Mentions of finals season.

Author’s Note- Making banners is very new to me but graphic design is my passion. I’ve had a couple people ask about tag lists and I’m willing to make one for this series so reply to this if you’d like to be on it :) Full chapter on AO3

Series masterlist

divider created by firefly-graphics

Despite appearances, she quite likes the train. It’s often overcrowded and either too hot or too cold, but she manages to find a seat more often than not. So long as she doesn’t forget her headphones, it can be almost relaxing to stare out the window and let her mind wander.

Today is the exception. With finals less than three days away, she thinks she would prefer to be anywhere but here on this sweltering train, packed to the brim with people just as sweaty and irritable as she is. But she had no choice but to pack her things and make her way down to campus today, with a roommate moving out and a new one moving in. She can’t afford to be distracted when she has two back to back finals and she would be damned if she failed them all because Alysanne had picked a bad time to move out.

The train lurches to a stop outside Blackwater station and she manages to push her way out of the car before the doors lock her back inside. It is not a far walk to the university library but she cannot help but think that it feels farther today, nerves wracking at her like they are. She nearly sighs in relief when she walks through the doors and finds a free table on the third floor, hidden behind some bookcases and overlooking the courtyard.

It isn’t long before she has three textbooks, two notebooks, and her laptop sprawled across the tabletop, scrolling through past cases she knows Professor Redwyne likes to cite. He is well known for his difficult exams- even for a law class- but she likes to think she has some kind of advantage over her classmates. She has had him before, though it was in undergrad, and thinks she has some idea of what he likes to test on. If she’s lucky, his exams won’t be too different from one another.

She isn’t sure how long she sits there for, comparing her notes with those in the text and lecture slides and reading court cases until her eyes feel as though they are about to bulge out of her skull, but it is long enough for her stomach to start to rumble. There’s a café across the courtyard and she considers getting up to stretch her legs and grab something to eat but the thought of losing her table ensures that she stays exactly where she is.

A coffee cup is placed in front of her while she’s contemplating, the chair opposite her screeching as it’s pulled back from the table. She pulls off her headphones, brows furrowed in confusion, only for her face to fall when she catches sight of Aemond Targaryen making himself comfortable across the table.

She sighs heavily. “What do you want, Targaryen?”

“Easy. The coffee is a peace offering.”

It isn’t that she hates Aemond, she just cannot stand him. They had been cursed to be in the same classes since the start of law school and she cannot remember a time where he didn’t have something to say. He treated class as if it were a competition and she was his greatest rival. He had a contrarian response for every question she answered and class discussions had turned into a ravenous debate between them more than once. If she was being completely honest, she thinks he’s a pompous, arrogant, know-it all with some weird vendetta against her. And perhaps she could forgive all that- this was law school and it was in near every student’s nature to be fiercely competitive- if not for the fact that he flaunted his familial wealth at near every opportunity. That combined with his insufferable personality had never done much to endear her to him.

Begrudgingly, she snatches the coffee and pulls it closer, reading the order label. How he knows her order, she has no idea, but she can admit he has always been uncomfortably observant. It wouldn’t take much effort to look over her shoulder in class and read her order when he was bored. If he ever got bored at all. She takes a hesitant sip before deeming it correct and setting it back down.

“What do you want?”

“A favour.”

Read the rest here

Taglist- @docmartinis @backyardfolklore

[darklcy]

𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

‣ requsted by @ipromiseimnotthirsty : hello! if your requests are open, would you write robin x reader smut where reader has been teasing robin all day until she snaps? maybe they’ve been in public/with other people/in class all day and then they get home? thank you!!

‣ robin buckley x f! reader | stranger things mastelist | 1.5k words | 18+ MDNI, heavy petting, skin on skin, sexual tension, swearing, reader has boobas, college au, no use of y/n, fingering, make out sesh

‣ this is actually one of the first times i've ever written smut so i hope i did you justice adfafawe sorry this one took so long! enjoy my luvs

Something must’ve been in the air today, she thinks.

Surely that’s why her skin flared red, insides grinding like an engine, knee bouncing beneath her desk anxiously while trying to find a rhythm with the pencil in her grip. Professor Smith’s lecture faded quiet, the woman pointing to an assignment on the board that was to be finished come Monday morning. Robin slouched further into her chair.

…A shoe trails the inside of her calf. 

Her eyes close while her lips tighten. Nudging it away, she ignores the playful scoff behind her. 

Quit it.

The shoe lightly pokes her back, the tip of a canvas converse tapping into her corduroy pants. Smith and the chalkboard mesh together in a blur, a sweaty induced blur with Robin’s only focus being the damn girl behind her. The same damn girl who’s been riling up her nerves the whole class period.

The tip of a finger twirls around a strand of Robin’s bob, a phantom sensation of pulling on her scalp before the tension releases. Something’s gotta be in the air today.

—

The lunch line was annoyingly long today. Her weight shifts from feet to feet as her shoulder leans against the wall, awaiting her turn to enter the school cafe and order some overpriced food the campus provides. Not her usual choice, but waking up late damned her to forget packing a sack lunch. A student with a plastic tray walks by. Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Her nose twitches.

A sharp pinch to her side jolts her awake.

“Hey.”

Of course it’s you. Robin’s hand flies to her chest.

“My god, you scared me.”

“Good, I was trying to.”

Do you even know what you’re doing or is it just a state of oblivion?

“What’s for lunch today?”

“Uhh, steak and mashed potatoes.”

She watches you contemplate. 

“Hm. I’ll save you a spot.”

Your hand caresses her shoulder, but as you depart, trails down her arm before releasing at her wrist. Goosebumps stem up from her fingertips, unable to do anything else except watch you prance away to an empty table, joining a couple other classmates, and sure enough, placing your bag to the seat right next to yours.

You smile in greeting like it was just a regular day. It was almost mocking her. Her freckles could feel the heat underneath her pores. 

Someone taps her shoulder. “Can you move up.”

Shit.

— Last period of the day. Thank god.

She’d just about had it with you and your damn mannerisms. It’s never riled her up like this before, but surely there’s something in the air, with how much she wants to just-

“Wanna hangout today?”

You two hangout every day, yet you still ask. She hops in your passenger seat and leans her cheek against her palm, strategically moving her knees a bit away from you. Your hand still finds its way to her knee.

You commuted to class everyday, seeing how you only lived a couple blocks down the road. Robin doesn’t complain, her roommate wasn’t really her favorite person to hangout with anyways. Most days it was just awkward silence and greetings. 

“You won’t believe what happened in chem. Jason Carver messed up on the lab, and made a huge mess. His face was so fucking funny, he kept whining about how his sweater was ruined.”

You shake your head with laughter. Robin doesn’t react.

“Rob? You listening? I just said Jason Carver made an ass of himself and you’re like not responding.”

She raises her head when you squeeze her knee twice.

“Oh, yeah. No, that’s funny.”

You scoff. “I love your enthusiasm.”

Robin’s tongue rolls the inside of her mouth, her face returning to its rest against her palm. 

The familiar neighborhood streets fade in, your car slowing to a park, when Robin finally breaks. Her hands pull you into her immediately, her torso leaning over the gear shift to reach you better. She feels you smile against her, your hands gripping her hair and tugging gently. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy all fucking day.”

Robin groans into your mouth while taking a swoop of air, only to dive back into you again.

“I was trying to.”

She wants to ruin you. She wants to take you here and now. She wants you to shut the fuck up.

Your lips taste so sweet. The gasps and whines she drives out of you she immediately drinks in. She’s so lost in you that the roll of your bodies hitting the horn startle you both apart with a jolt.

“Shit!”

Robin swears as you burst out laughing. She glares down at you, but surrenders at your expression, your face squinting with giggles and smiles. She adores you. With a sigh, she bends down to steal another kiss. 

“Let’s go inside.”

You hum. “Good idea.”

—-

Robin starts immediately where you left off. The second you two enter your room, she grabs hold of you again, not wasting any time to place her mouth on yours. She feels you hold onto her waist, gently rubbing your fingers against her sides. Robin bites your lip when you pinch her.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

The back of your knees buckle against your bed, allowing Robin to fully settle herself on top. 

“Nope,” 

She hates how you pop the ‘p.’

This way is much better, she finds. No damn gear shift or car horn to drive you apart now. This way she can feel you entirely, your warmth, your breath, your soft skin. Her knee glides up to rest between your legs, smiling when you stutter, your fingers desperately grabbing onto her. Robin rubs herself up and down, her weight and position making you two hungry for more, kisses growing deeper and deeper. Who needs to breathe air when she could just live here, in your body, in your affection?

She feels her shirt rise with her movements, to which she momentarily pauses to sit up and rid herself of the damn thing. You take this chance to follow her, exposing more of yourself to her and quickly meeting her lips again. Your fingers trail up and down her shoulder blades, her spine, her nape. Your nails become your new eyes, wanting to memorize every single freckle and pore of Robin’s skin down to the minute detail. Robin was so beautiful. Her freckles were probably your favorite thing about her. If you could, you’d kiss every single one. You started with her collarbones, then her shoulders, your teeth gently biting her in between.

Robin’s arms encased around your shoulders, starting to mess with the back of your wired bra before snapping it off. She moved lower to embrace your breasts with her tongue, each lick and kiss quickening your breaths. With a pop, Robin moves to the other, her tongue swirling around the bud before wrapping her mouth around it entirely. 

“You know..”

Robin peers up at you through her eyelashes, her lips still working on your left breast.

“If I’d known messing with you would get you like this… I would’ve done it a lot sooner.”

You gasp when her teeth bites your nipple.

“Shut up.”

Robin’s tongue licks into your mouth greedily, shutting you up in the best way. You find the latch hooking her bra together and eagerly rip it off, your fingers grabbing at her while her mouth occupies itself with yours. Robin leans on her right elbow while her left hand redirects yours to the hem of her jeans, letting out a hum when they dip inside and find where she needs you most. 

She’s so warm and slick with heat, you find no trouble slipping in a finger inside, curling rhythmically and slowly. Robin moans against you, breaking apart from you to your neck, letting herself rest there while you get her ready. It’s not long before you slip in another finger, even allowing her to grind down against you to rid some of the ache. 

She practically whines when your fingers leave her.

“Take this thing off.”

She obeys instantly. Her jeans fall heavy to the floor and you’re back at it, her heat missing the two seconds you weren’t inside her.

Her moans and whines could sustain you forever. It feels so good to make her feel good, you could probably reach your limit right here and now just drunk off her pleasure. Three fingers in now, pumping in and out, in and out. She’s close, you can feel it. It’s almost amusing how her cool exterior dumbs down to whimpers the moment someone touches her. 

“I’m getting, I’m,”

You leave a lingering kiss on her cheek, while Robin’s eyes clenched shut, her walls closing down on your fingers as she lets go. Her moans are euphoric and beautiful, and being this close you can feel them all around you, surrounding your five senses, and you find yourself starting to moan with her, too.

Her body collapses onto you, her sweaty cheek meeting the crook of your neck while your slick covered fingers come up to your lips to be licked clean. Robin can hear you hum at the sensation, annoyingly popping your fingers like a cartoon character after finishing a gourmet meal.

“You taste so sweet, Rob.”

You can’t hold back your grin as she groans into your skin.

“God, shut up.”

[coalswriting]

domestic / dating headcanons - natalie scatorccio

(approx. 900 words)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you and natalie started dating after you met her at a party.

you were with your friends, and you had spotted her from across the room, talking with travis.

you were way too many drinks in, and feeling confident, so without thinking, you abruptly ended your conversation with your friends by walking over to natalie.

travis looked irritated the moment you started talking to nat. she did not; you could see underlying relief in the sparkle of her eyes and she listened to you intently as you told her some random fun fact you had heard in biology.

one thing led to another, and you woke up with her in bed with you the next morning.

you panicked, thinking you had done something regrettable with someone you barely knew but she reassured you that the two of you simply came back to yours because you wanted her to paint your nails black and watch a movie.

cool. cool.

natalie didn’t end up leaving for ages that day, and when you saw her in school the following monday, she stuck around you.

you were pretty much glued together and she felt like your other half.

you watched her practices, went to her games, packed her a nutritious lunch every morning (because let’s face it; school lunches suck), and even helped her study.

it didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating; maybe two months of talking consistently every day.

and damn, did she move into your house fast.

your parents weren’t around too much due to work, but they really liked natalie based on the few interactions they had with her, so she was basically free to stay whenever.

your wardrobe instantly became better as natalie let you borrow her clothes, and you even would go shopping together with money you had earned from your part time job as a cinema worker.

speaking of cinema work, you always snuck natalie into movies for free with you when your shift would end. most of the movies, you two would just whisper through and joke around, but when it came to horror movies, natalie was honed and focused. she really loved them, and you loved seeing her enjoyment even though you’d freak out at any sight of gore.

natalie started looking a lot healthier when she moved into your house; she was used to eating shitty oven meals at home due her not having much cooking space nor ingredients, and when you both started cooking together, she loved it too much – you’d say she hasn’t had an oven pizza in months after you had started to date.

you do most of the meal prep whereas natalie cooks. somehow, she’s a natural! you oftentimes come home from work to the kitchen smelling like brownies or whatever delicious dinner she’s decided to make for you. and then, yknow, she leaves you with a sink full of dishes.

natalie isn’t a super affectionate person. she won’t outwardly kiss you or hug you often, but she shows it in different ways. maybe she’ll brush your hair, do your makeup, help you decide an outfit, make you a playlist, or link your pinkies together when youre watching tv.

however, if she gets drunk? that’s a whole different story. she’ll pull you away to make out with you every chance she gets. she would almost escalate it anywhere if it weren’t for you being reasonable and stopping her before things get too hot and heavy.

she’s also a little spoon. i will die on this hill. she’ll sleep facing away from you, but during the night, will push herself towards you until you’re holding her and breathing in the smell of her shampoo. she doesn’t care if it gets too hot, she will literally sleep through the night like a corpse – and then take a shower the next day because she’s all sweaty.  

she’s almost too over-protective at times, literally glaring at anyone that even looks at you wrong. once a guy catcalled the two of you in the hall at school and she literally kicked his locker shut onto his wrist.

his face was worth the detention that you both had to sit through.  

natalie stopped smoking for you. it’s not that you necessarily complained that you didn’t want her to smoke, but you made an off-hand comment once about how you’d love for her to take care of her health more.

and she took that personally. she literally went cold turkey, and you stayed with her the entire time while she was moody, sick, and tired from withdrawal.

natalie’s favourite thing to do is shower. she didn’t have the liberty to shower every day when she lived with her parents, so she basically showers daily at yours, if not twice a day. you don’t mind though; you’re not the one paying for the water.

you’ll oftentimes just sit outside on the toilet while she’s showering and talking to you about a new album she wants to buy or some drama she heard while in the changing rooms for soccer.

speaking of soccer, the yellowjackets think you two are such a weird couple. natalie is so rough, whereas you’re so sweet and caring. you’ll literally come to their practices with bottles of water for everyone and natalie will say some comment along the lines of “she’s mine, all of you find your own fucking girlfriend.”

meanwhile, everyone else is just blinking blankly, not even doing anything to insinuate that they’re trying to steal you.

[leakyweep]

BOA DOM! BOA DOM! BOA DOM! (I will wait patiently..)

I just picture her being so giving. That is, after she puts you through hell to get it.

Boa Hancock x afab!Reader -- Earned It

A/N: I need her. I need her exponentially. I need her abundantly. That is all. Also I heard "Hearts Don't Break Around Here" by Ed Sheeran while listening to this and it adds to the experience just do it. HAPPY FUCKING PRIDE MONTH BITCH !!!!!!!

Words; 1.5k

Warnings: Afab reader, she/her pronouns, they're lesbians harold, fingering, face riding, so, so much pussy eating like damn why cant this be me, praise, this was not proofread i wrote this in a fit of gay desperation, 18+ MINORS DNI

Boa Hancock was not the woman she seemed on the outside, and it took time for you to learn that. Her exterior was tough, selfish, and uncaring of others unless they served her some kind of purpose. However, after getting to know the Empress, she's vulnerable, traumatized; but kind-hearted. You had learned this on those late nights laying beside her; stroking her long, black hair as she poured out her heart to you about her past.

After those sleepless nights, she began to pack you lunch, complete with notes wishing you good days. Bouquets of your favorite flowers wound up on your doorstep, adorned with a note of the same nature that accompanied your lunch. Invitations to her palace quickly increased, and you found yourself warming her bed more often than not, holding her through the good and bad nights alike.

Though you had your disagreements with the woman, she was one of the most down-to-earth and caring people you had ever been with. When you had asked her to be your girlfriend, she was ecstatic. She had never gotten to know a person before; she always used her beauty to get what she wanted. With you; that felt so, so wrong. She never wanted to use you. Your smile, your looks, the way you gazed at her as if you really saw her, not just her exterior beauty but the complexity and elegance of her soul; it all made her feel so special.

Boa always took care of you; this was true for outside and inside the bedroom.

So, when she gave you that half-lidded look, the one that was filled with so much lust you felt it was tangible, you giggled. You had just gotten back from a mission with the Kuja, your leather armor still donned. You had been gone for a week; and every night Boa found her fingers between legs, thinking about your fingers instead.

She knew how hard missions could be from experience. So, after the bath she had prepared for you- complete with bubbles, wine, and your favorite book- she laid you down in her canopy bed, her hands tangling in your hair as she passionately caught your lips in her own. She had been looking forward to this moment, when you finally returned and she could be intimate with you. So she could take care of her blossom.

After a heated and desperate makeout session, here she was, teasing the daylights out of your dripping cunt. She ghosted her fingers over your slit, tugged pieces of your hair, left marks in that spot between your neck and shoulder that always made you writhe- anything but touching you where you wanted her most. Soft whines of her name and "touch me" escaped your puffy, red lips. She only chuckled softly, those lust-blown pupils staring at you boldly.

"My darling, you'll get exactly what you want in time..." Her long, slender fingers ghosted over your stomach, running down the already sweaty skin there. She pulled away from your body on the bed to grab a silken ribbon, tying your wrists above your head, leaving you completely defenseless to the goddess that was about to ravage you.

Boa smiled as if you were a treat for dessert as she crawled closer to you, her full breasts hanging below her. The sight of her like this was intoxicating to you; and it only made you wriggle and whine for her more. You knew that's what she wanted, she loved to play the power game.

"Aw... my lover is so cute when she whines for me. She wants me so bad, doesn't she? She wants me to touch her needy little pussy, right?" Her hands rested on your thighs, pushing them apart to position her face level with your throbbing pussy. She could see your wet dripping from your entrance, and she ran two of her fingers through it to collect it on the tips of her digits. She lifted them to your mouth, shoving them past your lips and scissoring her fingers in your hot mouth.

She pulled her fingers back, running them around your pussy lips, through the coarse hair that grew there. You had to will your legs not to squeeze her head as you just whispered, "Please, Hancock, please..." through shallow breaths. Your eyebrows were knitted together, your eyes pleading. Boa felt as if she was seeing stars, hypnotized by the desire in your gaze. No one had ever wanted her like you do, and just the thought of your devotion made the heat between her legs warmer.

"You've been so good for me, my love. You've earned it..." She smiled up at your desperate face, watching as pleasure invaded your senses at the feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your clit. You let out a loud moan, louder than you had anticipated. You hadn't realized exactly how badly you had needed- wanted- yearned for her touch.

Your hips gyrated against her tongue, your wrists struggling against the satin as her wet muscle dragged around your clit, pleasure pooling in the pit of your stomach. Wanton groans escaped your lips, her name being sung like a Psalm in church as she slurped up your cunt.

She hummed against your pussy, her nose sliding against your clit as her tongue migrated to your entrance, quickly claiming the inside muscles she could reach. You watched as she hungrily devoured you with a fire in her eyes. She had clearly missed you; she had never eaten you out with such severity. You had- many times- as she loved the feeling your tongue blessed her with. Now, it was her turn to give back.

Her fingers prodded at your entrance, her tongue moving back up to lap up your clit. she inserted two well-manicured fingers into your pulsing walls, biting her lip at how tightly you held her digits.

"My baby had been waiting for me all week, hm? Your hips are grinding against my hand so unashamed..." Her words were muffled by your pussy, and you couldn't find the words to respond as you felt your muscles contract at your incoming orgasm. Your mouth fell open in an 'o' shape, calls of Boa's name on your tongue.

"Yes, my goddess, 'missed you," You sighed. The pink blush of your cheeks matched Boa's as the hand she wasn't using to poke at your g-spot grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing the doughy skin in her palm roughly. She pressed her thighs together, looking for friction as your moans increased in volume and number. She could feel the waves of your climax starting; she sucked down on your clit, her tongue swirling as her fingers stilled deep inside you, her middle finger kissing your spongy sweet spot deliciously.

Your toes curled and hands struggled against the restraint as your orgasm shook your body, pleasure washing over you like a wave. You called Boa's name like a mantra; like if you said it enough times you'd be blessed- which you already were to have such a woman as her. Stars exploded into view as her fingers dragged deliciously against your walls as they were taken from your pussy. You whined at the empty feeling, your eyelids finally opening to reveal a pussy-drunk Boa. She looked at you with doe eyes, her lips curling into a hazy smile.

"My turn, darling." She untied the satin from your wrists, positioning herself above your face, sitting on it with her pussy positioned perfectly above your mouth and nose. You grabbed her ass desperately, devouring her wet cunt as if you hadn't eaten all week while you were away and she was your feast. She slid her hips desperately against your mouth, her clit brushing your nose as she swayed back and forth on your face.

You felt the weight of her muscular thighs surrounding your face, her scent and the sound of her moans invading your senses; physically and mentally encompassed by her. Your fingers dug into the plush skin of her inner thighs, pulling her closer to your face to pull those sweet moans from her mouth. She held onto the headboard of the grand bed to grind her hips into your tongue perfectly.

"L-love- right there-" She sighed shamelessly loud, her hips now bouncing frantically against you, your hands traveling from her thighs to her hips to help her set her pace.

After lapping, sucking, and fingering her cunt, you felt her walls hugging your digits tightly, a loud shout of your name tumbling from her lips as she gushed her juices onto your fingers and face, your eyes closing to be submerged by her. You licked your lips and around your mouth as much as you could, slurping up her juices. Everything about her was perfect to you.

She fell softly next to you, her tall, slender frame bringing you into an embrace. She grabbed the satin ribbon from earlier, wiping the remaining cum from your face and eyes gently. A soft smile adorned her lips as she laid her head on your chest; long, soft legs intertwining with your own muscular calves. You both let out a sigh of contentment, relishing in the feel of each other. The emotion and love between you two was unabashed, and as you fell into your own dreamworlds, you whispered a soft, "I love you," into her hair. She hid her blushing face as she returned the sentiment, leaving a soft kiss between your breasts.

[crepuskin]

you're in my memories tonight, Master Crepus. (i sincerely hope that comes off fondly/nostalgically, and not in a creepy way!)

weed always gets me reminiscing for whatever reason (don't worry, it's legal where i am). if i have a truly indulgent amount, it puts me in a fuzzy headspace that feels similar to a lot of my positive memories of Mond.

there's a specific memory in my mind tonight. i'm not sure if you recall the same, but i'll tell the story just in case. writing in character from here on out.

it was a bone-chilling and miserable winter day, the ground covered with wet snow to knee height. i was roughly thirteen and returning from my very first solo expedition, the one i'd been near hysterics over getting approval for. and as i was trudging through Windrise, my boots starting to soak through and my hair falling from its updo to stick to my sweaty, wind-burned face and my weighty pack listing to one side, i saw the edge of the Winery vineyards. i knew i was meant to be returning to Headquarters to fill in my report, but it was so cold and my legs were burning and i was chomping at the bit to gloat at Kaeya and Diluc about my expedition.

i promised myself i would only stop in to warm up and chat for a short while, and headed up to the Manor door. as i'd expected, Diluc and Kaeya hung on every word of my story about the trip. i was on cloud nine recounting the tiniest of details and fudging the grandeur of my experience. and then Miss Adelinde offered us cocoa, and you hummed a tune while flipping through a book, and the fireplace kept the room bathed in orange heat. it would be more than enough to lull me into a doze even now, let alone then.

and doze i did, my head drooped over to rest on top of Kaeya's. and after a blurry amount of warm time, you wrapped me in your strong arms and carried me into a spare bedroom, tucked me under the covers, and kissed the top of my head. i kept my eyes shut and my breaths even through the entire thing. if you remember this night at all, i suspect you never realized i'd woken up.

i apologize for keeping the secret all this time. i felt so comforted and cared for in that moment, a sense of love and security i can't recall the last time i recieved from my own parents. i suppose i worried that the moment would end and the spell would break if i revealed i was awake.

thank you for filling in for some of my parents' gaps.

and when i woke properly the next morning i was so ashamed of missing my check-in at the Ordo that i fled the Winery like it was infested, and i apologize for that as well. my embarassment at my training failure was no excuse for how snappy i became with you all that morning.

no longer writing in character, anyway, DAMN there's memories in the weed pen. this keeps happening to me with jean. i hope you enjoyed hearing my reminiscing, apologies if it's a little vent-y (haha. vent-y, Venti, either that's actually funny or its just 4am).

Thanks for reading if you've made it this far.

-@dandelionkinspace

I appreciate you taking the time to write so much, it paints a clear picture of your memories; it's always nice to recall these things.

The detail makes me feel like I can recall this. Maybe I'm just imagining it. But I do remember who I was as a person and this sounds a lot like me and the kind of things I'd do.

I remember, during the colder months, we'd have the fireplace going. Different decor would be scattered everywhere. My boys would go out and play in the snow while I stayed inside doing paperwork until my eyes were hazy. And then I'd take a break to play in the snow too. I enjoyed taking the occasional break and participating in silly little games.

Adelinde, the poor gal, she'd get so fussy because all of us would drag the snow back inside. Trust and believe she was yanking my ear with a "Crepus!" (I adore her!) She was so caring and lovely even if she was a little rigid with the rules.

As for Jean, I remember her being a close friend of both Kaeya and Diluc. I was (kind of) friends with the family too. So, there were definitely some strong bonds there. I remember Jean teaching Diluc to wish on dandelions. Told him that the seeds carried the secrets on the wind and that they'd make their way to Barbatos.

Speaking of Diluc, but he was very energetic as a child and I am absolutely shocked by how 😐😑😐 he is in game. He was a fireball!

(Sorry for getting sidetracked! I start rambling and include everything that pops into my brain!)

I saw Jean as family and treated her as such.

[f1nalboys]

Flower Fields - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x SI

WORD COUNT: 3749

WARNINGS: THIS IS A SELF INDULGENT AND SELF INSERT STORY, NOT X READER!!!! idc if u find this cringe! if u do just move past it, please and thank you! fluff, brief mentions of bo's childhood trauma, brief mentions of being alone as a kid and just some sad litle tidbits from bo and i, could be ooc bo bc hes kind but again i do not care <3, actually kind of sweet stuff hehe, cringe nicknames galore, sorta proofread.

Bo’s truck sat a few yards away, tucked off onto the side of the road, tall weeds trampled down into a makeshift trail. The two of them were further into the field, past the bushes starting to bloom with fruit that Bo had pointed out tasted disgusting to him as a child, settled into a patch of wildflowers. The day had been relatively cool, the sun warming them just enough to keep the two of them comfortable.

They had laid out a large checkered blanket on the ground, their shoes on one end to hold those corners down and her bag and the picnic basket on the other corners. Bo was in jeans and a t-shirt, one she had picked out for him and said it complimented his eyes, and his hat while she wore a yellow sundress that seemed just a little too short, not that Bo was complaining, a silver necklace on to match the rest of her piercings.

The food had been good and she had complimented Bo with a mouth full, hand over her mouth, though he could see she was smiling from the way her eyes crinkled together. Bo had waved her off with his hat, still not used to the genuine compliments even after all this time. “S’nothing,” He had said, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth and grinning at the small sound of disgust. “Still don’t get how you like ketchup and hate tomatoes, though.”

“They’re completely different!” 

“It’s made out of tomatoes!”

“Ketchup isn’t soggy.”

“Neither are my tomatoes.” He wiggles his eyebrows at the accidental innuendo and she rolls her eyes. “‘Don’t matter anyhow, because I don’t want you eatin’ anything outta that garden.” He grins at her scoff; the only reason Bo had gotten the damn garden fixed and kept up with it was so that she’d have something to do that kept her out of the house and not cooped up inside. It was just a plus that she seemed to enjoy it and it was a huge plus that some of the plants she was growing were fucking delicious and saved him some money when he had to head into the next town over to get groceries. 

She’s sitting criss-cross next to him, facing towards his outstretched body, and she takes a second to enjoy how relaxed he looked. Bo laid on his back, one arm under his head and the other over his stomach, hat placed over his chest, one leg outstretched and the other up, tapping away to some invisible song in his head. His brown hair was slightly damp from sweat (how he was always perpetually sweaty, she wasn’t sure) and the ends curled in around the nape of his neck and his forehead. 

“Like what you see, peach?” He drawls suddenly and her eyes snap back to meet his blue ones, crows feet evident now more than ever. A shit eating grin was on his face, head tilted to the side to get a good look at her. She can feel the heat on her face instantly and she shakes her head. 

“Nah, just trying to figure out how I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah?” His grin grows even wider. “You can’t kill a bug but you’re gonna kill me?”

“You’re more annoying than a bug, Bo.”

“You hurt me, you know that, darlin’?” He says winking at her and looking back up towards the sky. The sun was lowering every minute and the two of them would have to pack up and head home soon. “How’re you gonna make it up to me?” His voice is light and she grins, hands fidgeting in her lap. Bo’s eyes are closed and he takes in a slow, deep breath, letting the smell of the flowers around him soothe his soul.

His eyes flutter open at the sound of rustling and he grins when he turns his head to look at her. She was picking off flowers and leaves from the plants behind her with a sense of determination, her back to him. He says nothing, just watches as her fingers grab onto each bud, surveying it, before either plucking it or continuing on to the next. When she faces back towards him, she has a large pile of flowers collected in her arms. 

“I’m gonna make you something.” She states matter of factly, letting the flowers fall onto the blanket in a heap before she settles back down and begins to… do something with them. Bo watches, eyebrows furrowing together as time goes on, watching her weave stems of flowers together with the confidence of someone who had done it hundreds of times before. “What’re you looking at?” 

He blinks, looking up from her hands, which had stopped moving, to her face. “Just trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing,” He responds, sitting up onto his elbows with a grunt. She shrugs, going back to work, and he finds himself getting sucked into the overall gentleness of her weaving. “So? You gonna tell me?”

“It’s a secret,” She teases, snapping off an excess part of the stem from one of the flowers, tossing it into the growing pile beside her. “Learn to be patient.” Bo scoffs slightly; he was many things but patient was never one of them. Her fingers pause and her blue eyes snap to his own, eyes narrowing into a glare. 

Bo flashes her an apologetic smile, leaning over and nudging her knee with his hand. “M’sorry, bobcat.” Her scowl breaks instantly, lips curving into that smile he loves. She bumps her lip piercing with her top lip only to pull at it again with her bottom teeth, repeating the motion a few more times.

“I hate when you call me that.” 

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You hate it so much you’re smilin’ for me?”

She forces a short-lived frown. “I didn’t say I hated the way it sounded.”

“Aw, bobcat, you like my voice or somethin’?” She shakes her head with a soft laugh, focusing back on the task at hand. Bo had taken up calling her bobcat about a year ago. She was confused when he did it the first time and he gave her a wild grin, pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. “Ya just remind me of one when you’re angry at me, s’all.” He had whispered against her lips, laughing when she pulled away with furrowed brows. “Look beautiful but are downright terrifying if they’re comin’ at ‘ya.”

She can feel how antsy Bo was getting with each passing minute, his fingers drumming against the blanket in a soothing rhythm. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.” She says suddenly, nearly finished with it anyways. She holds it up to him, curling it around into a circle. “It’s a flower crown.” 

“A flower crown? You think I’m a hippie or something, Brooklyn?” His eyebrow is cocked and she shakes her head, the braid of flowers falling into her lap. He watches for a second as she begins to work on it again, instantly noticing how her fingers are working slower, how she’s pausing after each braid made, how she fell silent. “I’m just teasin’ you, honey, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know.” She says, looking up from it for a quick second to smile at him, though it falls the second she looks away. Bo can feel the mounting panic in his gut at the realization that he had blown her off, had said something that bothered her. Sighing, she looks back up at him and gives him a sad smile. “I know you were just teasing, Bo, honest. M’not mad or anything. Just… it’s so dumb.”

“It ain’t dumb. C’mon, peach, tell me while you finish.” 

Nodding carefully, he watches as she swallows heavily, her fingers picking up speed. “I used to do this a lot, back when I was younger. Make flower crowns and daisy chains and shit. Sometimes I’d just braid blades of grass together for, like, hours.” She smiles fondly at the memory but Bo can see the sadness twitching at the side of her lips. “I was alone a lot when I was growing up, y’know?”

“Don’t you have siblings?”

“Yeah, but they didn’t really want to hang out with me growing up, especially back in Georgia. I was too young to understand that they just wanted time to themselves; I always figured they hated me.” She chews at the inside of her cheek for a moment, shaking her head. “Anyways, back there on the army base - you remember me talking about that? -  there was this random wild-flower patch behind my house that I would go and hang out in.”

Bo sits up fully now, turning his body to be facing hers, sitting to match her. He lets her continue talking, eyes going from watching her fingers adding in new flowers to the crown and then up to her face which had begun to soften. “I’d take my favorite blanket, which kind of looked like this one, and a big bag of my favorite books and I’d spend all day out there. I’d only go inside to piss and to grab something to snack on and to drink, seriously. 

“But when I was out there, I learned flowers and their meanings. Well, I tried,” She grins, eyes flickering up to Bo’s and then down just as quick. “I kind of had a shit memory so it was really just looking up whatever flowers I saw and seeing the symbolism and shit. But I also learned how to make daisy chains and flower crowns and stuff, and when I’d give them to my siblings or parents they’d call it cute or whatever and then it would end up in the garbage.” She sighs once again, shaking her head to get the memory to go away.

“M’sorry for making you feel like that, Brooklyn,” Bo says carefully. “I was just tryin’ to tease. I aint throwin’ anything you give me out, don’t worry about that.” She laughs lightly and he reiterates. “M’serious! Might just ask Les about saving the flowers. Pressin’ them, or whatever. We can even have ‘em in one of those shadow boxes and hang it up. Alright?”

She nods, meeting his eyes and giving him a thankful smile. Her shoulders relax and he lets out his own breath; he had gotten through to her, let her know that he wasn’t gonna toss away her shit like they did. He’d treasure it far longer than she realizes. “And…it’s…done.”

Bo raises an eyebrow as she holds the flower crown up at him, grinning. There were multiple colored flowers in there but most noticeably were the bright orange flowers that seemed to take over the entire crown. They were familiar, and Bo is transported, for just a second, back to when he was younger, sitting behind the church, watching butterflies land on top of the petals gently.

“Thank you, peach,” He says softly, leaning over and allowing her to place the crown on top of his head. Even a year ago he would never have let this happen, something so soft and domestic, but he knew her and she knew him. He was willing to let himself have this one if it meant she’d keep smiling at him like she was. “I love it.”

“It looks beautiful, really.”

“So, ya’ gonna make yourself a matchin’ one?” She nods her head, picking up two more flowers and beginning to weave them together again. “What’re these flowers meanin’, anyways? You’re not breaking up with me or tellin’ me I stink in flower language, are you?”

She snorts before shrugging. “Well…”

“Hey!”

“Kidding! Uhm, honestly, I don’t know what all of them mean but the orange ones, they’re milkweed, mean joy, happiness, dignity, and freedom.” She looks up at the sky, wracking her brain to see if it meant anything else, before nodding. “Yup! And I think it’s very fitting. Plus, you look cute.”

Bo hums, feeling a blush crawl up his neck. Cute was not a word people used to describe Bo Sinclair. Handsome? Sure. Sexy? Definitely. Monster, inhumane, freak, idiot, fuck-up? Time and time again. But cute? Never. Not until her. “You’re just tryin’ to make me blush.”

“Is it working?”

“Sure is, peach.” She grins and the two fall silent. Bo watches her as she makes her own matching crown, eyebrows furrowing together ever so slightly. “Baby?” She hums, not looking up. “What’s your favorite flower?”

She doesn’t have to think. “Snap dragons or pansy violets.”

“What do those mean?”

“Pansy violets mean love and romance, so it’s very fitting for us,” She says, looking up for a quick second to toss a wink and an eyebrow wiggle his way. He grins. “And, if I remember correctly… snapdragons mean deception and graciousness. The deception is because concealing one supposedly makes you look fascinating and cordial. Or whatever, somethin’ like that.”

Bo hums, trying to think of what those two flowers look like. She talked so fondly of them, of her time spent in the wildflower field of her old home. Bo realizes she talks about her past easily now. Before, not that he could blame her or even judge, she used to keep it to herself, mentioning small things in passing. Now she offered things up like a piece of candy in her palm, holding it out to him to take and savor. He hopes he’s able to do that with her soon.

She finishes her own crown and grins, placing it on top of her head and when she meets Bo’s eyes she’s grinning, eyes squinted, but then she’s looking at his crown and her mouth is dropping into a gasp. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” 

“What? Why? Don’t tell me theres a fuckin’ bug, Brooklyn, I’ll freak-”

“No, there’s not! Just don’t move a muscle for me, Bo, alright?” His lips thin out in a frown and she stands, slipping her shoes back on. “I’m serious! Not a muscle! I’ll reward ‘ya if you listen.” He rolls his eyes as she disappears but begrudgingly does as he’s told, keeping still and staring ahead at where she had been just moments before. He hears her rummaging in the truck and his eyebrows furrow, mind racing at what she could possibly be doing. He left the keys in the car. She could be leaving right now, he thinks, she could have been lying all this time about loving him and had found her opening. Right when he is about to whip his head around, she calls out to him. “Coming back! You didn’t move, right, baby?”

Her approaching footsteps ease his racing heart and mind just a bit. “Yes ma’am,” He confirms, unable to hide his toothy smile when she walks back into his line of sight. “What’re you doin’ with that thing?” He asks as she bends down, polaroid camera in hand. She doesn’t say anything, just holds it to her eyes and takes a photo after a pause. He tries to keep a smile on his face, but he frowns when she pulls out a phone. “What’re you doin’ with that?” 

“Oh, relax, grumpy. Just keeping some memories, that alright with you?” She takes a photo and then sits down beside him on the blanket, smooshing her face beside his, and grinning. “Say cheese!”

“No.”

“Bo, c’mon! Say cheese.” He sighs, a smile tugging on his lips. “I’ll kiss you if you do!”

A moment of silence. “...Cheese.” She snaps the photo and when she looks at the photo, much to her surprise, Bo has a wide and easy smile on his face; one of his real ones. “Now can you tell me why I wasn’t allowed to move, miss bossy?”

She kisses his cheek and rests her head on his shoulder, the flowers on her crown tickling his skin, but she shows him the now-developed polaroid. “Cause you had a few butterflies on your head.” Bo makes a surprised noise, carefully taking the photo out of her hand. He sat there, criss-cross with his hands in his lap and a smile on his face. On top of the crown were two monarch butterflies. One sat just above his left eye, wings outstretched boasting off the vibrant colors. The other was mid flight, flying away from Bo back towards another flower somewhere else. 

“I love monarch butterflies.” Bo says with a soft sigh, handing the photo back to Brooklyn. “Les, Vince, and I used to hang out behind the church a lot where the garden used to be. That’s where we had a buncha these flowers, the orange ones, and these little guys,” He taps at the butterfly in the photo with his finger. “They would lay their eggs in ‘em. We watched ‘em all hatch and then they’d sorta… flutter around and shit. Used to love watchin’ ‘em when I’d be staying out of the house.”

Brooklyn grins, moving off of his shoulder and grabbing his hand with hers. “You know something? These are my favorite butterflies too. The monarch ones; back in school we did a unit on them and they were my favorites. They symbolize change, transition, and hope.” She brings Bo’s large, calloused, murderous, hand to her lips and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles, ones that hadn’t been split open by someones face or covered in another persons blood in months. “Guess they knew the two of us would change, right?”

“You believe that?” He asks, tone soft and light, followed by a laugh when she nods. “I ain’t changed a bit since I was a kid. Still an asshole, still a fuck up. You though, I’m sure you changed.” She cocks an eyebrow at him and he isn’t totally sure if it's at his own negative self-talk or the implication that she had changed since she was younger. “No way you were this cool as a kid.”

“Oh, I was, trust me. Biggest goddamn nerd around, baby! Always had my nose in a book.” Her smile falters ever so slightly and Bo gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You weren’t either of those things as a kid, though. You were just a kid in a bad situation.” It’s her turn to reassure him, ground him there in the field of flowers, remind him he’s not back home strapped to his high chair. When her fingers wrap around his wrist, it’s gentle, doesn’t bring back the same burning pain that it used to. “But if that’s what you think of yourself back then… then you did change. You let yourself grow, that’s all.”

Bo swallows thickly and nods. He didn’t know if that was true. Sure, he knew he was a kid, knew he didn’t deserve what had happened to him, knew deep down that it wasn’t his fault, but when the people who raised you made it their mission to tell you that it was true, it was hard not to believe it. But being here with her, listening to her say it so earnestly just in front of him, wearing the flower crown she had made him out of nothing but love, it was a little easier to stomach. 

“Alright, alright, too sappy.” He says suddenly and she smiles, kissing his cheek, understanding. He tries to play it off as a joke but she knows that he hears her words, he just can’t tell her that himself. He figures one day he’ll be able to. Bo stands, taking care to keep his crown on his head. “Now, you wanna pack up and head home, honey? You owe me that reward for sittin’ still, remember?”

She rolls her eyes but nods, holding her hand out to him to help her up. “Who said it was that type of reward, perv?” He gives her a look and she grins. “Yeah, dumb question. What’re you staring at my hand for?” Bo can feel his cheeks heat up at being caught and, after he’s sure she’s up and steady, he drops her hand. 

“Nothing.”

“Bo, cmon!”

“Fine! It’s dumb, but… was just thinking you’d look good with a ring on ‘ya, that’s all.” 

Her face instantly morphs into a love sick grin and she wraps him into a hug, head resting on his shoulder. Bo wraps his own arms around her and leans his head onto her own and the two stay there, clutching the other, for just a moment. It was silent, but it was a good silence, the kind where everything, including his ever-racing mind, was still. “Now you’re definitely getting that reward.”

He laughs and she can feel it rumble in his chest. “Fine by me, peach. Let’s pack up and head home, okay?” That night, after everything was packed away and they had gotten home and they had their fun, they both laid in their bed, him on his back and her on her side. He stares up at the ceiling, looking over at his bedside table and grinning at the flower crown that laid there. He had already sent Lester a text message asking how to press flowers and had gotten back a ‘I’ll show ya!’ text. “I love you.” He says and she rolls over in an instant, throwing her arm over his bare waist.

“And I love you, Bo.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Y’know, I thought of a new nickname for you.”

He looks down at her and grins. “Yeah?” She hums, nuzzling further into his side. He briefly recalls when they first slept in the same bed together, how she stayed on her side with her back towards him, how she tensed up whenever he moved. Now, she clung to his side, ear pressed to his chest, his heartbeat in her head. “And what is it?”

“Butterfly.” He scoffs and she giggles. “It’s good! And fitting in my professional opinion. Way better than bobcat, that’s for sure.”

“Hey! Watch it, peach!”

“Aww, m’just teasin’, butterfly. I love all your little nicknames for me. They’re cute.”

“Like me?”

“Exactly.” She grins and leans up ever so slightly and he leans down, lips connecting and Bo finds himself shocked at the electricity he’s still able to feel when they do. It was always like the first time with her.

Bo lets her roll over and curl into herself with a small grin. “Goodnight, honey.” That night, he dreams of a butterfly field, the two of them in the middle.

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: onelastedit

Prompts: Stroking hair to soothe. “Take me with you.” Baking.

Group: B

-

On the Other Side of the Door

Was it too much to ask for a simple, relaxing holiday? Thanksgiving wasn’t a tradition Belle participated in - being Australian it hadn’t ever appealed to her - so she took the opportunity to use her vacation days from her job at the Library to rent a room at a new boutique hotel just outside of Storybrooke. The Autumn weather had already succumbed to the Winter and she wanted to indulge in a long weekend with wine, books, and a crackling fireplace. 

Instead, she got a room with a broken fireplace, and a furnace stuck at a temperature that would make the Devil sweat. She’d only packed her warm clothes so she could either slowly get heat stroke wearing her flannel pajamas or walk around in only her knickers. The latter option, while it sounded sexy, was in reality disgusting when your room is trying to bake you like a pumpkin pie. The resulting smell was NOT of cinnamon and nutmeg. 

Grudgingly, she put on the hotel’s complimentary robe and decided there was nothing for it but to trudge down to the front desk. She’d been assured the heat would be fixed within the hour -  two hours ago. Gathering as much dignity as she could wearing nothing but a bathrobe with sweat actively dripping down her body, she made to open her door but the handle was…stuck. She jiggled it furiously but it was like the handle was actively working against her pushing against her grip on it. Belle released the handle and watched as it moved of its own accord rapidly rattling up and down. Her stomach dropped as she realized someone was trying to get into her room. Thoughts raced through her mind — she should back away and call the front desk, hide in her bathroom until someone comes for help. Did she still have pepper spray in her purse? She hadn’t ever used it. Does pepper spray expire? The lamp on her bedside table looks potentially lethal, but she has terrible coordination.  

As Belle’s mind began to meltdown from the stress and heat, a voice on the other side of the door caught her attention. Muffled words made their way to her ears, “damned room keys… absolute shite…” She knew that voice! It was the voice of the man who played the starring role in her daydreams. That voice was deep and a little rough, and it’s Scottish accent made her toes curl in her stilettos.  Belle watched for him every day, peering out the window from her perch at the Library’s circulation desk, hoping for just a glimpse of him as he opened his antique shop across the street. 

Mr. Gold. 

But wait, this was absurd. There was no way Mr. Gold just happened to be on the other side of her hotel room door, apparently trying to break in. It must be heat stroke mixed with insanity - she’d finally taken her pathetic crush too far. Then she heard the voice again, “never should’ve invested in this place. Where is the blasted bell boy?” 

Tip toeing to the door, Belle peaked into the viewer and gasped as she saw a the top portion of a man’s head - a man with shoulder length brown hair, a few streaks of grey running through it, and it looked like it was silky soft. It’s Mr. Gold!, her mind screamed. Suddenly she had way more problems than a malicious intruder. The man of her dreams was inches away from her, and he didn’t even know it. She pushed her hands through her hair, trying to tame the frizzy, sweaty curls gently massaging her scalp to calm herself down, and pulled the mass back into what she hoped looked like an attractive ‘I don’t care what I look like, but I still look great’ kind of way. When she saw a pause in Mr. Gold’s attempts to open the door she quickly turned the handle and flung the door open with much more strength than she realized. 

As the door banged back into the wall, Belle’s bright blue eyes stared into very startled brown ones. She hoped she didn’t look like a maniac. She could feel the huge smile on her face as she said, “Mr. Gold! What a surprise!” For several long seconds Gold didn’t respond, just stood there staring at her and then looking around himself like he was a little kid lost in a department store. 

“…..I…Miss French. I’m so sorry. I must have the wrong room.”

“Yes, I thought so. What a coincidence that we’re both in the same hotel for the holiday.”

“….Yes….I am a silent investor and sometimes come to check in on it.”

This wasn’t quite the romantic meet-cute Belle had been hoping for. He looked completely uncomfortable. She was sure he would run away if he could. She didn’t blame him. She looked terrible and it’s not as if he ever gave her the time of day when she wasn’t a sweaty mess. At that moment a bell boy came along with Mr. Gold’s bags and informed them - what they already knew - he had the wrong room. 

The boy turned to Belle, “Miss is the room’s heat still an issue?” In her assenting nod, he replied, “I’m so sorry. If you go to the front desk they can book you for another weekend. Unfortunately there aren’t any other rooms available.”

Upon seeing her look of disappointment, Gold said, “The heat isn’t working?”

“No,” said Belle, “that’s why I look like a horrid sweaty mess. It’s stuck at a thousand degrees.”

“You look beautiful as always” he blurted out. Her wide eyes met his equally wide eyes, “I’m so sorry Miss French that was inappropriate. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No. No you didn’t” she grinned like a fool at him.

“As an investor I wish there was a way I could make it up to you but it seems there aren’t any other solutions.”

Feeling very bold, Belle said, “You could take me with you.” Her sly smile hoped it undercut her forwardness.

“I beg your pardon?” He spluttered.

“You could share your room with me….if that’s not too much to ask.”

He cut in, “No. No it’s not.”

“Well then it seems you have provided a solution Mr. Gold.”

“Alexander. My name is Alexander.” His smile beamed back at her and when he offered her his hand she didn’t even care that her palms were sweaty.    

-