tryna get my Usher on but I can't let it burn

Flora

A low, mischievous laugh curls in her throat, half breath and half delight, as she tilts her head and murmurs, "As if Koa can read," with all the theatrical flair of a stage whisper. The thought alone makes her grin, but the way her hips shift, slow and deliberate, says she’s thinking about something else entirely. She rolls against him just enough to spark heat and raise the corner of her brow in playful provocation. "I was more wondering," she drawls, "if I’d be able to keep my hands to myself if we were suddenly all in and out and about."

But the laughter fades into a sigh, soft as seafoam breaking. Her body melts against his again, limbs bonelessly relaxing, but her smile slips, just slightly, like a shell pulled back to reveal the raw shimmer beneath. Her cheek rests over his heart, lashes brushing skin as she lets the silence stretch long enough to find her footing inside it.

"I don’t want to be put on a pedestal," she says finally, the words fragile but sure. Her fingers trail lightly over his ribs, almost absently, like she’s drawing lines through the weight of her own thoughts. "Sometimes you talk about me like I’m this...wet dream come to life, or something you waited forever for. Like I came down from the stars with a little bow on top."

Her throat works gently as she swallows, eyes slipping shut again. "And like...I get what you mean and how it's all about the timing of it all, but..." Her voice is quiet, steady despite the bloom of vulnerability threading through it. "I’m not perfect. I’m not some fantasy you finally got to unwrap. I’ve fucked up a lot, and I’ve hurt people. I’ve made choices I’m not proud of." She draws in a breath that trembles somewhat, her fingers stilling against his collarbone. "I just don't want to disappoint you by not living up to the idea of me that you have in your head."

I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Honey wherever you go, I know

The smirk that rouses in response to her falters suddenly as she shifts just so. The sensation of such intentional contact jolts through him, a warm tingle that subsides gradually. A hand grabs hold of her hip, heat rising in his gaze that he very pointedly aims down to where she'd just struck a fresh spark. It returns soon enough to her eyes, lips tugged into a curious line. "Shall I wear all my worst outfits just to fend you off then?" He can agree perhaps that making out in front of Koa and Caly would not go over well.

She sinks then, and the humor that had started to trickle in about this weird ask dries up once more. He goes still as she airs it out. It's something shy almost, but too surefooted to be that, much as it still trembles on its release. It gathers though as it comes out, building onto itself with each roll of her tongue, an avalanche of worry that barrels into him. It is strange, after all, he'd never been told to love less.

It sounds like more guilt from someone shouldering more blame than they should though. "So, decommission your bust, is what I'm hearing?" His fingers flex marginally where they remain fitted on her waist, and his other hand fits overtop hers near his chest. "Flora, you can be my perfect wet dream from the stars and still be a fuck up, you know?" He blows out a breath, trying to gather his feelings into something remotely resembling sense and words. "The things you do wrong don't remove all the things you do right. And all of it is still just, you." He doesn't doubt they'll have moments where they're upset and hurt again, or arguing or sobbing with each other. "That's who I'm in this for. You. Not the fantasy."

He tilts his head back for a minute, humming with thought. "I call you out on game rules, don't I?" he asks earnestly. "And I rise up to your challenges, right?" Maybe it'd been mostly harmless thus far, but the core of it remains. "So why do you think I wouldn't stand up to you about any future dumb shit?" Spoken like he certainly believes there will be those moments. "Doesn't mean I'd care for you less though."

Kaisel

I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you

Flora

Her brow arches with all the drama of a challenge accepted, smirk slinking across her lips like it’s found something delicious to bite into. She leans in, lashes dusting his cheek as her mouth stretches toward his ear. Her voice is honeyed threat and velvet heat, low and laced with promise. "All the more reason to tear them off of you," she murmurs, before her hip shifts deliberately into his palm. Gods, they both need actual sleep before any more shenanigans, but teasing him has ever been her favourite sport and she's helpless to resist now.

She huffs softly and straightens just enough to press her chest more firmly against his, feigning a pout as her fingers splay along his sternum. "Isn’t my bust good enough?" she drawls, sliding her hand so his fits between the gaps of hers, knotted and warm. For a moment, she lets herself sink again into the steady, familiar rise and fall of his breathing. But the humour fades around the edges like a tide drawing back, revealing something quieter beneath.

"No one fantasizes about the hard times," she says, her voice softer now, more thought than speech. "Or about imperfections." Not in dreams. Not in wet sheets or desperate daydreams or the kind of longing that leaves your mouth dry. Fantasies don’t imagine bruises shaped like Jack’s hands, or the nights Flora’s cried herself sick in silence, or collecting love like a starving thing, grateful for every crumb. The girl Kaisel dreamed about was never shaking under the weight of what she had to be. She didn’t cry in locked bathrooms or say yes when she should have said nothing at all. She wasn’t the one people walked away from once they realized she wasn’t as shiny up close.

But this version of her—breathing and flawed and real—is the one in his arms, and she knows he sees her. Still, sometimes—"Sometimes, you just...big me up so much I start to feel like it's inevitable that I'll let you down. Like I’m already on my way to failing the version of me you’ve carried around all this time."

Her lips twitch faintly, not a smile but something adjacent, a sad cousin of the expression. "I know you know I’m a person," she says, quiet but sure, like a stone dropped in still water. "It just...sometimes when you talk about how long you’ve wanted me, or all the ways you used to think about me—" Her lips twitch, not quite a smile. "I get scared. Like I won’t be what you hoped for. Like I already peaked somewhere in your imagination and now I’m just..." Not enough.

She exhales softly, nudging her nose into the hollow beneath his jaw. "I just..." Her voice is almost a whisper now, more salt than sparkle. "I just wanted you to know how it made me feel."

I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Honey wherever you go, I know

That devious hum that whispers against his ear sends a low chuckle tumbling in the back of his throat, a sound that soon enough crumbles into a wanton groan with the angle of her against his hand. He sucks the noise back in through his teeth, fingers running down the outside of her thigh as though he could remember restraint in the shape of what he's holding already. "I definitely need to invest in velcro and snap buttons." He'd be buying new clothes weekly otherwise, and there'd start to be rumors that he's a werewolf.

The swell of her breasts only accentuates as she leans further into them, and shamelessly he glances down to appreciate the rising tide of cleavage. With all the sly smile of a cat, he tries for some nonchalance, "dunno, might have to see it a few more times, really get a feel for it."

Content for now with just the feel of her hand weaving alongside his, he listens to each fret, resisting the urge to take the corner and smooth each and every one of them out. Maybe time could set an iron onto them, but for now he'll just tuck them away for her, wrinkled and known. "No...they don't." he agrees. "That's what's nice about fantasies, there's none of that." He squeezes his fingers against hers. "Remember when you suggested I use one of the magic rooms in the House of Midnight? And I told you I'd rather have the real thing?" He tilts his head to the side, staring at her askew. "Maybe I didn't dream about all the things you don't do well, but Flora I'd rather be awake with you through it all than keep dreaming." Maybe just smooth out one of them for now.

He leans forward to press a kiss to her head when she finally settles into the nook by his throat. "I hear you," he whispers it, because acceptance and understand don't need all the noise. A pause, just holding her, breath tumbling into her hair that's started to dry into a complete mess of golden loops and wayward strands. "I think you're giving my imagination far more credit than you should though," he murmurs with a twitch of a smile. She's also not giving herself nearly enough credit for how big she is in actuality, but that's an iron for a different day. "But okay, understood, I'll stop saying nice things to you." He lifts his hand off her thigh to zip his lips and lock them, the small key clutched between his fingers, ready to be yeeted.

Kaisel

I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you

Flora

The low, delicious rasp of his laughter—the one that starts in his chest and tumbles like warm thunder through her spine—makes Flora shiver with unrestrained pleasure. Her lashes flutter, and she leans in just enough to brush her lips against the edge of his ear again. "Don’t threaten me with a good time," she purrs, the words sugar-laced and silken, even if her hips aren’t actually moving anymore. She could keep teasing him, but there’s something quieter pulling at her now.

The rhythm of his fingers against hers becomes a private echo, the steady drum of reassurance she’s not entirely ready to believe. Maybe she never will be. Because even if she believes that he’d choose her over the fantasy, it doesn’t erase how long the fantasy lived without her. How many nights it breathed all on its own, untouched by the messier, mortal girl who blushes and bleeds and keeps wrecking things she never meant to.

Still, the kiss he presses to her temple gentles the wind in her chest. The nuzzle she gives in return is wordless and instinctive, her nose tucking beneath the curve of his jaw as though she were meant to fit there.

When he jokes about keeping his compliments to himself, her mouth opens, half a heartbeat away from saying good, because that's what she's been taught to expect. Jack rarely complimented her; he just rationed out his love until she was grateful for scraps such that even the littlest bit from Kaisel felt like far too much.

But Kaisel isn’t Jack, so instead of making a joke she doesn’t really mean, Flora reaches for his hand and brings it firmly back to where it belongs: splayed across her hip, his palm pressed against her skin.

It’s not the first time they’ve ended up like this, limbs tangled, sleep creeping slow and sweet between them. But it is the first time she doesn’t feel the urge to hold the moment still, to trap it like a firefly in her palm and keep it from slipping away. This time, she doesn’t think he’ll vanish when the sun comes up, that she’ll wake to distance and polite smiles and a silence full of everything they didn’t say. This time, she knows he’ll still be here.

Nosing gently against his jaw, she lets the air settle between them before speaking again. "I know we don’t have to talk about everything right now," she says, voice muffled slightly by the line of his throat, "but... is there anything else you do wanna talk about?" Her fingers shift slightly in his, curling them against hers. "Before the nap wins?"

I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Honey wherever you go, I know

She doesn't rise to the bait the way he expects. She just accepts it, as if agreeing to it, as if yes that's precisely what she's asking of him. He balks a bit at it, trying to fumble for the imaginary key as she takes his hand and it away. Fuck the joke though and all the pretend to maintain it, he's not just gonna let that settle. "Hey, I'm not really going to stop," he says with a strain of disbelief. He grips the curve of her thigh tight, putting meaning into it. "I can try to be more aware of it, but Ro, you're gonna get compliments. You deserve them." Not even because of some fantasy she thinks he conjured for her as reason to provide them, but because everyone should have those warm moments of admiration and praise, and her especially because he does adore her.

He hovers on that edge of waiting, breath practically held in ready to hear her understanding before finally relaxing back into the tug of the bed and the sheet of her. He'd find no rest if she fully believed he'd never say nice things to her again, and it's another reminder that he doesn't know just how deep these cracks in her confidence have run. She's so good at shielding them so often, and he's been tricked along with everyone else by the display of wholeness.

Idly he runs his hand up and down her leg, thoughts loosening against the comfort of her touch. It's true, they don't need to build an encyclopedia today, but a fresh worry sets into him. Softly he clears his throat, the next words not entirely easy to say, even among everything that's already been said. "Is there anything that...he did. That I should do? That you liked?" His thumb ghosts over one of her bruises.

Kaisel

I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you

Flora

The way Kaisel's fingers tighten at her thigh makes her still, the grip more grounding than rough, and when she lifts her head to look at him, it’s with something almost like disbelief. Not at him, but at herself. At the fact that he’s still trying to convince her. when all she’s ever known is that she doesn’t get to be loved like this without paying for it. Her lips twitch, caught somewhere between a frown and a wry smile. "I know you’re not going to stop," she murmurs, brushing some of his hair back with her fingers in a half-hearted attempt at lightness. "Because the day you actually hold your tongue is the day I have to bring you back from the dead."

Even wrapped in playfulness, Flora's eyes still search his, looking for cracks in his sincerity, watching for the moment the pedestal crumbles. How could she believe those compliments when they only seemed to reinforce the fantasy she was already afraid of? When everyone in her life had either left or demanded more of her? When Remi and Ronin had looked at her like a mistake that needed managing, and Jack had doled out affection like he was measuring it by the grain?

When the pulse of his fingers against her skin shifts, she can feel his breath change before he even speaks such that she's already starting to lift her head when the question comes. And it stops her cold. The bruises are still there. Purple blossoms pressed into the skin of her hips, throat, and chest like some dying bouquet, Jack's hands lingering even now.

Her mouth parts with a shaky breath, but no sound comes out. Because how is she supposed to explain it? She liked the way Jack had handled her, there’s no pretending otherwise. The roughness, the hunger, the way he’d press her down like he owned her and always knew exactly how far she wanted to go. It made her feel wanted, wicked, powerful in how powerless she could let herself be beneath him. And maybe that did come from somewhere tangled up in all her old scars and daddy issues—the parts of her still aching for the kind of love that demanded everything and never left.

But it was more than just that. With Jack, there’d never been any risk in letting go. Not when he could feel her pleasure directly, read every flicker of hesitation or heat from the inside out. It meant he could be relentless without ever pushing too far. There was safety in that edge, because he’d never fall off it, which meant she wouldn't ever either, because he always knew. And Kaisel...didn't. But did she want him to be like that? Was it the sort of thing he could do, if she asked it of him?

Her cheeks flush, heat blooming beneath her skin as a tremble stirs in her limbs. She draws in a breath and shifts higher on him, so they’re eye to eye again, so she can reach. One hand frees itself and comes to rest against his cheek, her palm warm against his skin. "There are things that I like," she says at last, her voice soft but steady. "I can show you." Her smile curves lopsided, more invitation than apology now, even as her eyes search his for some confirmation that this wasn't going to be a thorn between them that rooted deep. "We can figure it out together, okay?"

I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Honey wherever you go, I know

A smile flutters light and frail to his lips at her words. Less for the humor in them than the relief that she does know. "Good," he concludes, leaning a bit into the touch of her hands through his hair. It's likely dried just as wild as hers, strands poking every which way.

The air seems to stiffen around them, cold and worried with the exchange. It feels like effort to inhale after his question parts him, especially as he feels her grow so quiet and trembling. He already knows enough then, without her saying a word. She loved him after all, still loves him, and always will in small ways that Kaisel will never be able to pull back or replicate.

It's not the threat of losing her to those fragments that sags against him now. It's more the reality that there's portions of her that he's not meeting in the way she needs. He doesnt expect to be any more perfect than her, knows that each of them has faults, but gods he wants to be everything for her. Wants her to never regret choosing him.

The careful way in which she stirs, rising to meet him in full, hand bracing his cheek, it does cut through some of the folds of concern. They began to layer in on his chest, making each breath a little more shallow, his throat a bit smaller and tighter. The warm, steady hold of her gaze strips some of it away, insistant on discovery, like this too could just be another one of their adventures.

"Yeah, okay," he agrees with a weak smile. He does mean it. He would happily explore anything and everything with her, would love to learn more about her and try anything, but it doesn't keep back the knowledge that he's lacking something now. That even in this, loving her, maybe he's still not enough and will have to train and climb to be something more. He thought maybe for once, he'd done something right all the way.

"Let's sleep," he murmurs into her palm as he turns with a small sigh. He doesn't want to dwell on this or keep feeling it right now.

Kaisel

I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you

Flora

There’s something quieter in Kaisel now. Not the peaceful kind of quiet, not the kind that comes from comfort, but the kind that feels like pulling away. Like a stone slipping off a ledge, gently, but irretrievably. Blinking down at him, concern ripples faintly across Flora's brow as her thumb keeps brushing his cheek, and even as he starts to turn his face into her palm, she nudges her hip against him softly. "Hey," she says, not sharp, not demanding; just the kind of soft ache that wants him to stay with her, really stay.

It hits her then, what she might’ve done wrong. The way she’d answered his question about Jack—how she’d taken him out of the response, even though he’d been part of the question. Like hiding the ghost would fix the haunting. Her throat tightens, but she breathes through it. "I don’t want you to be like him," she says quickly, not desperate but urgent, like there’s a crack forming and she needs to seal it before the cold gets in. "Not even in the ways he made me feel good."

Leaning down, she brushes her nose gently against his, her hand slipping up to thread lightly through his hair again. "I only ever want you to be like you," she murmurs, brushing a kiss to the skin just beneath one eye. "And so far...I really like the things you do." Her lips trail lower, to the corner of his mouth, the bottom edge of his cheek, utterly adoring in a way she can't quite stop herself from feeling. "Besides," she adds, smile returning, softer and a little brighter, "you’ve already done things he never could," she adds softly. And that’s true in ways she won’t name tonight, not all of them. Not the ones that live in the garden of her heart, in the places only Kaisel has ever gotten to by climbing over someone else’s bones.

She shifts again, stiffening against him only enough to lift herself without moving her hands off of him. Her smile flashes down at him, genuinely bright now, full of her. "I want to figure it all out with you," she says. "Want to show you what I like. Want you to be the one to make me feel good." Her hips roll once more against his, just enough to make the mischief in her grin deepen. "And I really want to learn what you like, too."

I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Honey wherever you go, I know

Hey. His gaze flicks back to her, a bit distant still, the look more muscle memory than him actually seeing her. There's too many thoughts still sliding through the corridors of his mind, colder than he'd like, as if Jack's penchant for ice has found a way to frost whatever his memory might touch and send the chill creeping along to every possible doubt or worry.

She is warm though, and persistant. He blinks, the focus of her coming in more—each one lifts him up from wherever he'd been underwater, able to see her, but in that wavy, light-warped way that being below the surface can only manage. "I can handle it, if you do," he reassures, "I want to make sure you don't lose the things you like." There's limits to what he'd be willing to emulate, or even could. He'd not be electrocuting anyone, for instance, but he could try his hand at other things that mattered to her.

His skepticism that she's being honest wanes with each touch she feeds him, the one truth he can always trust. Each brush of a nose, thread of her fingers, and soft press of her lips is another reminder to him that she's here, with him, and that yes, he must have done something right then for it to be them here and now. Ghosts would always remain, but they were impossible to hold and to love.

He turns into one of the kisses she's placing, chasing it down into a full one between them, exhaling some relief into it. "Okay," he agrees, and there's more conviction to this one, the start of a smile there. Especially when she says he's done things Jack never could, Kaisel's expression brightens, his gaze sharpening with curiosity as it turns back to her seagreen eyes. "Is that right?" he can't quite keep the smug from his tone, utterly chuffed about getting a leg up on the Captain at last. "You'll have to tell me all about them one day." Save it for a rainy day, because just knowing it is enough for today.

His palm on her hips follows her as she shifts, tightening and dragging down the length once she settles. "I want all of that too," he says with a careful quiet. Not because it's fragile, but because there's awe weighing it down, that this is not only real, but working to something even better with each whispered want. He can't understand how she thinks the conjured image of her in his head is any better than this.

The roll of her hips against him sends another jolt running from waist to pinky toe. His shy smile suddenly turns wolfish and wide, fingers tightening against her skin with intent. "I like when you do that," he rumbles just before tipping her over and swapping positions. He chases the momentum as he rises up over her, weight dipping into her as he grabs her leg up over his side. Although he's trying to tease the spark into her this time, he's not impervious to the feel of her against him, so soft and warm and shaped like he's meant to slot into each other her curves. It beckons a rough sound from him, especially as he shamelessly admires the view of her laid out beneath him just before he leans in to deliver a kiss. This one is deep, trying to seal every promise of their future into it, even the undiscovered parts they mean to find.

Kaisel

I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you

Flora

She doesn't realise she's made up her mind until the words are already forming behind her teeth. The fantasy, the bruises, the heat of being held down and taken—gods, yes, she'd loved that with Jack. But now that she's thinking about it—really thinking about it—she doesn’t want that with Kaisel. Not the exact same script, anyway. That way of fucking had always mirrored everything else between her and Jack: intoxicating, addictive, and ultimately unstable. For every high, there was a fall so far down it bruised her heart more than his hands had ever bruised her hips.

No matter how good Jack was—how perfectly he could read her, could spark literal heat or cold or static —it never stopped her from having to chase him when it was over. Never made her feel any less discarded, once the heat cooled. She shakes her head, soft but sure. "I don’t want that," she murmurs, looking at Kaisel fully, letting him see the clarity now blooming behind her eyes. "I’d much rather find something new with you than live inside old memories."

And when he steals one of her fluttering kisses and deepens it, her sigh spills warmly into his mouth, a content exhale like sea mist on warm glass. Her fingers tighten slightly in his hair, affection knotting with hunger as she smirks into the kiss, catching the spark of his pride like it’s contagious. "I don’t want us always talking about Jack," she says as they part, brushing her nose to his. "But when you want to hear about it, just let me know."

She would’ve rolled her hips again—was thinking about it, actually—when suddenly the world tilts and she’s the one being rolled. A surprised laugh spills out with her breath, interrupted just as quickly by a breathy moan as he settles above her. Oh—this. This she likes. The warmth and weight of him pressing her into the bed, the way he fits between and against her like a puzzle piece she hadn’t known she was missing until now.

Her leg curls instinctively around his hips, locking him in as her spine arches to fit beneath him, her chest brushing his. Her hand, still tangled in his hair, drops to his shoulder to anchor her, fingertips pressing into the muscle as her breath catches again. "I like when you do that," she whispers, a little breathless, a little shaky, her voice barely more than silk caught on heat. Her other hand skims up his thigh, lingering with a teasing drag before wrapping around to his ass, pulling him in even closer. She shivers, hips rising to meet the weight of his body against hers. "I like the way you feel..." Her lips hover near his, brushing faintly, eyes half-lidded and glowing in the low light even as her hands continue to roam across the plains and valleys of his back.

"A lot."

I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Honey wherever you go, I know

He's in trouble, he realizes, the moment her leg starts to wrap against him on its own. He had only meant to tease, to leave her with a lingering buzz of what they could be before fitting in behind her and letting them both drift into a much needed rest where they don't have to think, or talk, or do anything for a while.

She's got too much pull though, and that idea feels further and further away with each shift against him she creates. The bow of her towards him, the graze of her breasts, even that grasp on his shoulder, each one seeking more. More contact, more of him, more of them. Then, her voice, gods her voice—smoke vibrating against his ear, winding down his mind and curling warm and wicked against his ribs so every heartbeat stirs it up again. He turns into her neck with a groan skimming over its slope, desire starting to argue with sense. With his mouth parted just enough to nip, he delivers one as she drags him against her, want pulsing fresh and eager where they meet. He tilts his hips, grinding into her even as he bemoans her with a dragged out "Flooora."

A hand slips down to cup her chest, the sweep of his palm appreciative of the supple roll of it under his grip. Definitely better than tits made out of stars and thoughts. "You're entirely too addictive, you know that?" he laughs low and soft against her collarbone, unable to believe how easy it is to get lost in her already. He presses in meaningfully again, fingers tweaking her nipple with a curt twist, before he abandons ship and flops back into the bed at the side of her, one hand clutching the growing response of his dick like an apology.

"I don't want to give you anything subpar," he mutters, especially now. "C'mon," he urges with his other hand, beckoning her to become the little spoon. "Let's nap before anything else has a chance to happen today."

Kaisel

I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you

Flora

The sound of his groan steals all the air from her lungs. Gods, it’s delicious; low and rough, scraped from somewhere deep, and she breathes it in like it’s something she can trap in her chest and keep there, clutched like treasure behind her ribs. But then his teeth graze the slope of her neck and her breath shudders right out of her, exhaled in a soft gasp as her fingers curl into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp in a wordless plea for more.

When he grinds his hips into her, she moans into his ear, soft and breathy. Her back arches instinctively as his hand finds her breast, the warmth of his palm dragging a shiver across her skin, and through a crooked smirk she murmurs, "You started it," just before his fingers tease her nipple. The little twist has her sucking in another sharp breath, hand tightening at the nape of his neck in response, hips twitching beneath his as though they might coax him into staying right where he is.

So when he doesn’t—when he suddenly flops away like a man escaping a very beautiful trap—Flora shoots him a look. Withering, playful, and very, very flushed. Her cheeks burns with heat as she catches sight of the way his hand is curled possessively around his thoroughly determined erection, and a single brow rises, sharp and knowing.

Still, she does as requested, but gods help him if he thinks this is safer.

Flora slots into the space he makes for her like she’s always belonged there, all soft limbs and silk-smooth skin, her back pressing against his chest with sinfully perfect alignment. She shifts as she settles, stretching herself long and lean, ass nudging deliberately into his lap, a quiet hum leaving her lips as if purely from the effort of getting comfortable.

Her arm snakes back around his neck, fingers finding his hair again. The movement arches her chest slightly, pushing her breasts forward as though entirely by accident, and her voice curls with mischief as she feigns innocence. "A nap sounds like a great idea," she purrs, the words practically vibrating with the effort it takes not to laugh. Because gods, she does need the rest—but he should’ve known better than to let her get this close and expect peace.

I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in

Code stolen from Queen Sky

Honey wherever you go, I know

Compliance is not something Flora gives over quickly or easily. He knows this, but fool him for thinking she is also worn out—a nap had even been her suggestion—so he is not on alert for any of her wiles. Even as she slips in against him, perfectly snug and warm, backing up all her cake, it doesn't trigger his spidey Flora's up to some shit senses. The prickle of his skin in response to the full length of her is all him getting revved up, a player of the teasing game, but not a winner of it. The lurch in his uncooperatively hard cock is not because she wiggled her behind right against it intentionally, it's just the cost of doing business, the business being spooning.

His arm slips over her waist, palm splaying by her naval, while his chin sits above her shoulder. Before he's even considered it, he drags her closer to him, his hand pressing firm against her belly as he pushes in from behind. Another strained sound of want carves out of him as his erection slides further between her thighs, resting just outside of her. "Gods, I might never sleep again with you around," he mutters into her back.

The glide of her fingers back into his hair has him closing his eyes for a moment, the touch simple but intimate. It snips more of his discipline. Seemingly working opposite of napping he flicks his eyes open, still caught on this idea of control and sleep. The view that greets him below the slope of her arm though, perfectly arched and so in need of his hand, that unlaces even more of him. "You aren't doing this on purpose, are you?" he wonders with a fringe of accusation, little more than a low exhale near her neck while his hand skates up her stomach and roves over her tits with a squeeze to each. It continues to rise up after some fondling, curling over her shoulder so that his fingers meet his chin. "Because that would be unhelpful for napping," his warning comes with a firm yank down on her shoulder, his tip rubbing up against her clit from behind as he grinds against her.

Kaisel

I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you