#but you ruinin it with your denial

[visceravalentines]

All the Time in the World

Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

7.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Your regularly scheduled weekend tryst with your Southern gentleman is interrupted by your dad's fancy work party. Or is it?

Smut & fluff & just a smol dash of angst, age gap, dad’s best friend, semi-public sex, Daddy kink, oral, fingering, dirty talk & praise from both Bo and the reader (get it babe, pour filth into HIS ear), soft orgasm denial, creampie, cockwarming, light bondage, reader's parents get very drunk and reader drinks in moderation, reader wears a dress, she/her pronouns used, reader referred to as darlin', baby girl, pretty thing. If you need a pair of surrogate parents to imagine since they have a significant speaking role in this part, here is who I picture while writing lol.

Next Friday was going to be a big night. 

Your dad had been spearheading a massive, important project at work for the last year and it had finally come to its conclusion. The company was hosting a gala to celebrate, with your father as a guest of honor. You and your mother were invited, of course, and expected. No chance of getting out of it. 

“It’s stupid,” you said to Bo. 

The two of you were on his back porch, getting an early start on the evening’s beer stock. “It’s going to take the whole night. They have an open bar and everyone always gets wasted at his work functions. My parents included." 

“It ain’t stupid,” Bo said. “You’re just mad it’s happenin’ on a Friday night so you can’t sneak your ass over here after work." 

“So what if I am?" 

“So what if y’are?" He took a swig of his beer. “Come over Saturday. I’ll even stay in bed for ya." 

“What a sacrifice." 

“I’m a giver, darlin’, you know this." 

You pushed his knee with your bare foot. “What’re you gonna do without me Friday night? Work on that Cadillac in the garage?" 

“Actually, I got a date." 

You choked on your beer. “What?" 

“Y’know Maggie Harper two doors down?" 

You rolled your eyes. “Bo, isn’t she married with like, six kids?" 

“Ain’tcha heard, baby girl? I’m a homewrecker. Ruinin’ marriages and robbin’ cradles." 

“If you go on a date with Maggie Harper, I’m texting Bradley from Gulfport." 

He scowled. “Bradley from Gulfport’s gonna end up a cold case." You giggled. “What’re you wearin’ to this party? Bet I’m missin’ out." 

“You are. It’s a very nice dress. Pretty low-cut. Slits up the sides." 

“Damn." He shook his head mournfully. “Guess I better take you somewhere nice so you can wear it for me." 

“I’ll send you a picture." 

Bo shot you a mischievous look. “Would you do somethin’ for me?" 

You regarded him suspiciously. “Depends." 

He leaned on the arm of his deck chair. “Leave your panties at home and send me a picture o’ that." 

Your mouth fell open. “You’re serious." 

“Always, darlin’." 

“You’re filthy." 

“You bring it outta me." 

“Don’t blame it on me." 

“Ain’t nobody else around." 

“My mom is gonna be there." 

“Well you don’t have to show it to her." 

You laughed, sipped your beer while you considered. “Alright. I’ll do it." 

He grinned. “You’re the best, baby girl." 

The weekend passed too quickly, as it always did, and the week flew by too. Friday afternoon, Bo flipped the sign on the shop door and turned to you with a sigh and the most forlorn expression he could manage. 

“Dunno what I’m gonna do with myself all alone tonight." 

“Don’t say that, you’re making me feel bad." You wrapped him in a hug. “I wish I didn’t have to go." 

“Nah, it’s a good thing. You gotta support your dad." 

“You’re right. Have to earn some points while I still can. Maybe it’ll cushion the blow when they find out you’re paying me for sex." 

“Darlin’, I guarantee it will not." Bo kissed your forehead. “You’re comin’ over tomorrow?" 

“Of course I am." 

“I’ll pick up more o’ those snacks you like." 

You smiled up at him. “You’re a sweetheart." 

“Only for you, baby girl." He kissed you, long and sweet. “I’ll text you later,” he said with a wink and a smirk. 

You got ready for the evening at your parents’ house. The dress really was something, black with a smattering of delicate beaded details, the neckline a deep V, the floor-length skirt long enough that even with the slit up both sides, you weren’t worried about the consequences of fulfilling his request. It hugged your figure in all the right places, made you feel sexy and confident. You wished he could see you in it. 

Before you left your room, you tossed the pair of panties you would have worn onto your bed, took a picture, and sent it to him. Call it a teaser. He responded promptly with a single text:  

Minx. 

You grinned and tucked your phone in your bag. 

The gala was being held at an upscale hotel downtown. You rode with your parents and arrived considerably earlier than most of the guests. You made nice with the introductions, smiled politely, retained nobody’s name, answered the same three questions about college until you were ready to snap. 

The night had only begun. You were ready to go home. 

Playing the dutiful daughter with nothing under your skirt was a new kind of thrill, you had to admit. It was probably better to sneak a scandalous picture now, before the crowd really arrived.

You snagged a champagne flute from a server’s tray on the way to your table, drank it too fast looking for a little extra courage. You’d never taken a nude in a public place; to be fair, there wouldn’t be much of an audience in a bathroom stall. 

When the champagne was gone, you excused yourself and wandered through the building until you found a restroom a little ways away from the event hall. Naturally, the bathroom was impractically luxurious to match the rest of the hotel, brightly lit and opulent. At the far end from the door, there was a vanity with three low stools upholstered in velvet. 

You considered this for a moment. Those stools were cute. You didn’t particularly want to take a picture of yourself straddling a toilet. Maybe…if you were quick…. 

 Desperately trying to seem inconspicuous, you crossed to the vanity, double-checking each stall to be sure it was empty. When you were sure you were alone in the bathroom, you perched on the stool, pulled out your phone. 

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You really did look good tonight; it was a damn shame you weren’t going to see him until tomorrow. You snapped a couple selfies, made sure to get the dress and the way it hugged your chest in frame. 

Then you adjusted your skirt, glancing behind you with trepidation. You’d had sex in a barn two weeks ago, you reminded yourself. And blown him at work on the clock. And fucked in your bedroom during a block party. 

God, he was just stripping away your inhibitions right and left, wasn’t he? 

You shook off the realization that you loved it and tugged your skirt up the rest of the way. 

After taking a few pictures with your legs in slightly different positions, and then quickly readjusting your dress to salvage a little modesty, you scrolled through to pick the best shots. You could feel your face heating up as you examined yourself, but you knew he was going to love them.

You’d sent him nudes before, but only a couple times, and always from the comfort of your bedroom. No matter how self-conscious you felt, they were always well-received. 

As it happened, he had quite the artistic eye when it came to the dick pics he sent your way. No grainy, overexposed, oddly cropped pictures where it looked like he may have just accidentally dropped his phone into his pants. No, you got well-framed mirror selfies, full-body shots with his hand wrapped around his cock or his thumb tucked in the waistband of his boxers.

They were worthy of salivation. He was always saying Vincent was the artist, but as far as you could tell, Bo was a born photographer. 

The vanity had been a good choice. Hopefully he’d be impressed. You texted him one shot of your face and two of your pussy and called it a night. 

By the time you returned to the event hall, he still hadn’t replied. You were slightly disappointed, but didn’t want to blow it out of proportion, so you tucked your phone away and jumped back into social hour with your dad’s coworkers. It absolutely necessitated another flute of champagne. 

You were zoning out during your dad’s eighth rendition of the same story about golf, pleasantly floaty and counting the minutes, when he deviated from the script. 

“Oh, here’s the guy I was telling you about, Bo Sinclair. Let me introduce you!" 

The words hit your ears like a slap, sobered you up in an instant. You glanced up and sure enough, your smug Southern gentleman was crossing the room, giving Johnny Cash a run for his money in an all-black suit and tie, hair slicked back, gorgeous. 

You didn’t even feel your jaw drop. He looked incredible. Moreover, he was here. 

He greeted your dad with a smile and a handshake, then those baby blues fell on you. “Good seein’ you,” he said with gentility, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You look absolutely stunnin’." 

Every drop of champagne in your body rushed to your head and every ounce of blood rushed south and you lamented the fact you were not wearing underwear. 

“Sorry honey, probably should’ve mentioned your boss was going to be here,” your dad said. 

“No, it’s – fine,” you said. 

“’S alright, she doesn’t get enough o’ me at work,” Bo said brightly. “Thanks for invitin’ me." 

“Oh, you had to be here,” your dad was saying. The rest of the conversation was utterly lost on you; you were too preoccupied with the scent of his cologne, how his shoulders filled out the jacket. He was handsome as hell in a suit. He played innocent remarkably well, only shooting you the occasional glance, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards every time. 

Blessedly, the lights dimmed, signaling to everyone that the evening’s presentation was about to start. You, your father, and Bo returned to the table where your mother was sitting nursing a second – or third? – glass of wine. 

“Mind if I sit here?” Bo asked as he slipped into the chair beside you. 

“Not at all,” you said. 

“Got your text,” he murmured. “Think I’m gonna need a closer inspection." 

“Are you talking shop at the dinner table?” your mom interjected. 

You could feel, actually feel, your soul leaving your body. 

“Apologies,” Bo said with a smile. “Y/N was sendin’ me pictures of her friend’s truck, might wanna sell it. Looks real nice in the pictures, but I always say, y’never know ‘til you take it for a ride." 

Your soul did in fact leave your body. Your mother did not seem to notice. Bo flashed you a wicked grin and nudged your foot under the table. 

The lights went down even further and stayed that way as the CEO started her speech. You felt Bo’s fingertips brush your knee, squeeze your thigh. He winked at you when you gave him a sidelong glance, then folded his hands primly on the tabletop. 

You slipped your foot out of your shoe and ran your toes up and down the back of his calf, stoically did not acknowledge when he looked at you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him slip his phone out of his pocket, type something short. As he tucked it back away, your bag buzzed conspicuously. Your mom looked over, made a shushing face. 

You focused on the CEO, tried to ignore him as he shifted in his chair. Out of the corner of your eye, he vanished. Seconds later, you felt his fingers on your ankle, and then his lips on your knee. You jumped, startled, and he popped back up from beneath the table, smiling. 

“Tyin’ my shoe,” he whispered. You bit your lip and rubbed his spit off your skin. 

The speech ended, the lights came up, and shortly thereafter servers began bringing around the first course. 

"So Bo, how's my kid doing down at the shop?” your dad asked halfway through his salad. “Giving you all kinds of trouble?"

You stopped chewing, braced yourself for the innuendo. 

"Aw, she's a delight," Bo replied. Your eyebrows went up. "Smart as a whip, friendly with the customers, real fast learner. Works harder'n me. I'd keep her around forever if it was up to me, but she's got bigger and better things comin' her way for sure." 

He smiled at you, a genuine, affectionate smile, and you tried your hardest not to light up too much. “Thanks, Bo." 

“Jus’ the truth, darlin’." He looked at your parents. “She’s somethin’ special." 

"I'll drink to that," your dad said. 

As guests finished their meals, many of them wandered to the wide-open center of the room where couples were dancing. Your parents got up from the table to join the handful of people already swaying in slow little circles, your mother admonishing Bo to keep an eye on you. 

"You here all by yourself, pretty thing?" he said once you were the only two left at the table, scooting his chair a few inches closer to yours.

"You look sexy as hell," you told him. “I didn’t know you owned a suit." 

"Thank you, darlin', don't get much occasion to wear it." He fussed with his cuffs. "Think the last time was at Les's weddin'."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were going to be here."

"I told ya I had a date."

"You didn't tell me it was with me!"

He gave you a sultry look. "Who else would it be with, baby girl?"

You gazed back at him with open adoration. "You can't just show up here looking like that saying nice things about me."

"Why not?"

"Cause there's no hayloft to hide in."

He laughed. “If you’re that desperate, we can get a room." 

You shook your head. “I don’t think they rent by the hour here." 

“Probably right." Bo stood up suddenly. “Why don’t we visit the courtyard instead?" 

“The what?" 

“C’mon, baby girl." He flashed you a mischievous grin, offered you his arm. “It’s real pretty. And real private." 

“Bo!” you exclaimed. “My parents are here!" 

“When are you gonna stop bein’ sensible and start trustin’ me?" 

You stood up and took hold of his elbow. He set a quick pace around the edge of the room toward the door. “When are you going to behave appropriately in a public setting?" 

“Darlin’, if you think I’m just gonna sit here and stare at you when you’re wearin’ a dress like that with nothin’ underneath, then you ain’t been payin’ attention." 

You stole a wary glance in the direction of the dance floor. You couldn’t see your parents; hopefully they couldn’t see you either. “You are going to get us in trouble." 

He tossed that damn smirk at you over his shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes, bright and smoldering with lust. “We can hope, can’t we?" 

Together you stumbled out of the event hall. He slowed down in the corridor so you could keep pace beside him. He seemed to know where he was going, but the place was a maze to you. 

Around the second or third corner, Bo stopped abruptly and pulled you to him, capturing your lips in a kiss. You thought about pushing him away for a second, only a second, before your arms were around his neck and your tongue was in his mouth. 

“God, baby,” he breathed. “Wanna touch you so bad." 

You slid your hands down his chest. “Then you better find that courtyard." 

“’S around here somewhere,” he said, taking your hand and tugging you down the hall. 

You rounded another corner and yanked on his hand, pinning yourself between him and the wall. He smashed his mouth against yours, hands on your waist, running up your sides to your breasts and down to your hips. Fiery, you angled your pelvis flush against his, so few layers between you. His fingertips worried at the top of the twin slits of your dress, pawing desperately at the skin of your thighs. 

“Uh-uh." You pushed his hands away. “Not in the hallway." 

Bo made a disapproving sound. “Then quit kissin’ me like that." 

“Never." You pulled him to you by his tie. 

He wrested his tie and his lips loose, pointed a finger in your face. “Now who’s gettin’ us in trouble?" 

You grinned at him. “I’d kill to get in trouble with you, baby." 

He groaned. “Y’promise? I got a gun." 

“Cross my heart." 

He buried his face in your neck, his kisses manic, and you tilted your head back against the wall in bliss until he sucked hard on your skin. You shoved him away. “Bo!  You can’t give me a hickey!" 

“I sure can." 

“No you can’t!" 

He smiled smugly and looped his arm around your waist. “This way, pretty thing." 

To your surprise, there really was a door marked Courtyard around the bend. Bo held it open for you and before you could thank him for his chivalry, he grabbed your ass as you passed him. You swatted him away, giggling. 

The courtyard was a large area of greenspace smack in the center of the hotel. A fountain burbled in the center and trees and shrubs were planted thickly among the pavers. A smattering of lamps provided wan white light, leaving ample room in the shadows for shenanigans. The early evening stars were hidden from view by the glow of the city, but the sky was a beautiful deep, swelling blue. 

“How did you know this was here?” you asked. 

“Went with your dad to a golf club happy hour here in the spring." 

You winced. “I am so sorry." 

“Me too. I hate golf. Drinks were good though." 

Bo took your hand and led you to a secluded bench tucked away behind a pair of bushes. It was practically invisible from the door, but plenty of windows loomed overhead like half-lidded eyes. You were hidden beneath the trees, probably. At this rate, you’d be fucking in Times Square by Halloween. 

He straddled the bench and you sat between his legs, adjusting your skirt. The cold concrete touched a bare strip of your thigh, made you flinch. 

“How much time do you think we have?” you wondered. 

“All the time in the world,” he said, kissing you again. His hand wandered from your knee up to the end of the slit in the dress. His thumb played at the inside of your thigh, tantalizingly close to your sex, lighting up the nerves in your groin. 

“You look so damn good tonight,” he said. “Drivin’ me wild." You gripped his lapels, kissed his lips, his cheek, the scar on his chin. “Wanna make you feel good, baby girl. Let me make you feel good?" 

“Please,” you whispered the way you knew he liked, drawn out and plaintive. 

His hand slipped beneath your dress, fingers just parting your lips. Your back arched. His eyebrows shot up. “Soaked, darlin’. Bet you taste even better than you look." 

Heat flooded your face and your core. You wanted to see his head between your legs. “Why don’t you find out?" 

His lips curled into a smile. “If you insist." He leaned forward and gave you one last kiss before pulling away to kneel on the ground in front of you. He looked up through his lashes like a supplicant at the feet of a saint, hands on your knees, urging your legs open with reverence. 

“Nobody in there needs to know you belong to me,” he said, pushing your skirt up and aside. “But I’m gonna make damn sure you know it." 

Your fingers curled around the lip of the bench as he blew gently along your slit, following immediately behind with the tip of his tongue. Your breath hitched in your throat. He sucked at your clit, lapped at your arousal, strong hands holding your thighs immobile even as you strained involuntarily to close them. 

"Don't you mess up my hair, angel," he warned.

"I wo - oohh." You gripped his shoulders instead, hips rolling.

“Bet I can make you cum before I finish spellin’ my name,” he murmured. 

“Full name?" 

“Uh-huh,” he said, open-mouthed, his tongue pressed against you. The vibration made you shudder. 

You were so hot for him already, it wasn’t going to take much, but his name wasn’t long. You could hold out. “You’re on." 

When his tongue dragged lazily over your clit in an unmistakable letter B, your toes curled and you moaned. He punctuated the initial with a merciless suck. The next letter was not an O. You felt yourself clench, ached for him to be inside you. The next letter was also not an O. You were writhing in his grasp and confused in the fog of pleasure. 

“Bo…what – god – what are you spelling?" 

“My name, darlin’." 

“Your name…is two letters." 

He grinned up at you in the dim light. “It’s Beauregard, baby girl." 

“It’s what?" 

“Beauregard Sawyer Sinclair." 

Your mouth hung open. “…fuck." 

“Think you’re about to lose a bet. Now I can’t remember where I was, so I’m startin’ over." He started over. 

His middle fingers were knuckle-deep in your pussy halfway through Beauregard. You did lose the bet, somewhere around the Y in Sawyer. Head thrown back, you saw your own stars spill across the canvas of the sky, your helpless whimpers so soft and so loud in the open air. You melted back into your body with a sigh, blinking bleary-eyed as he sucked his fingers clean. 

“You cum so pretty, baby girl,” Bo crooned. “Gonna be thinkin’ about those sweet little sounds when it’s just me and my hand in bed tonight." 

You frowned. “You don’t want me to take care of you right now?" 

“Nah, we best get back. You can make it up to me later." He winked. “Now, I got the worst knees on this side of the Mississippi, so you’re gonna have to give me about ten minutes to stand up." 

He winced as he rose from the ground, kissed you on his way up. You fixed your dress and his tie, pushed one wayward lock of his hair back in place. 

“Handsome,” you said, smiling. 

“Shucks." Bo wrapped his arms around you. “Kiss me goodnight before we go inside." You obliged. You missed him already. 

He held your hand loosely as you crossed the courtyard, tugging uncomfortably at his slacks. “Gimme a second, I gotta get rid of this situation." 

You snickered. “I offered my services." 

“You hush." 

“Could’ve made you try to spell your name again while I sucked you off." 

“That’s enough." 

“I know what would shut me up, Beauregard." 

“Alright then, smartass, I’ll prance in there with a boner and let you explain where it came from." 

“Couldn’t say. I’m a virgin." 

He snorted as he pulled the door open. “Get inside." 

You held his hand until the last possible second before you stepped back into the event hall. Immediately you were searching for your parents. Anxiety seized you in its clammy grip when you caught sight of them seated at your table. 

“There you are,” your mom said, slurring a little. “Where’ve you been?" 

“Sorry, we went for a walk." You smiled what you hoped was a normal smile. 

“Oh that sounds nice." Man, your parents could drink. 

“When do you want to get going?” you prompted. 

“Well, about that, honey,” your dad said. “The company paid for a room for your mom and I, sort of a surprise weekend getaway." His gaze shifted to Bo. “I hate to ask you this, but could you take her home?" 

You didn’t have to look at him to sense the smirk on his face. You could feel it like a kiss on the back of your neck. “I’d be happy to." He touched your back, your upper back, nothing but propriety. “You just lemme know when you’re ready to leave." 

“Now is fine,” you said immediately. “I’m pretty tired. And you know, I’m meeting…someone tomorrow to do something, remember?" The details of this weekend’s cover story were fuzzy but so were your folks. 

“Right, right,” your dad said. “Have so much fun!" 

“Oh I will." You glanced at Bo. “Shall we?" 

“Of course, darlin’." He shook your dad’s hand, thanked him again for the invite; you hugged your parents and bid them goodnight and a good weekend. 

It was a long walk back out to the hallway. No sooner had you left the room when he clasped your hand, brought it to his lips, and deadpanned, "I'll drop you at yours, then?"

You pushed him playfully. "You'll do no such thing."

"Who is the boss here?"

"I think it's me."

He scoffed, guiding you through the hotel doors with his hand on your back, your lower back, possessive. "I have the keys," he said as he produced them from his pocket. 

With uncharacteristic speed you snatched the keys from his hand and danced away down the sidewalk like a dog with a forbidden treasure, skirt gathered in one hand. "Wrong!"

Bo gave chase without a second thought. "Ooh, you better pray I don't catch you, baby girl."

"What're you gonna do, spank me?"

"Somethin' like that."

You spun, flashed him a grin, prancing just out of his reach. "Can't wait."

He lunged and you shrieked with laughter, feinting away at the last possible second. You moved in the direction of his truck parked just down the street.

"This ain't fair, y'got twenty years on me," he whined, out of breath, hands on his hips like an exasperated Little League coach. 

"Aw, what a shame." You jingled the keys in your hand. "Guess you'll have to walk home, old man."

He shot you a glare and then without warning broke into a dead run. He was unexpectedly fast, had evidently been holding back, and you let out a genuine scream as you scrambled for the truck. The pounding of his footsteps got louder behind you and the next thing you knew, he had you in a vice grip, whirled you both around so your momentum carried him into the side of the truck and you into his chest. 

"Respect your elders, darlin'." He crushed you to him, landing one good slap on your ass. 

You collapsed with laughter. "You're scary as hell."

He smiled darkly. "Nah, I'm a big softie." You went to hand him the keys and he shook his head. "You're drivin'."

"What?"

"Take me home, baby girl."

You'd never driven his truck before. He was protective of the thing, to say the least; washed it once a week, detailed it himself, refused to park it within six feet of another vehicle. "Are you sure?"

"I trust you." 

You grimaced. "No pressure."

"None at all."

"If I'm driving, I can't blow you."

"There'll be more'n enough time for that later. Quit stallin', I'm ready to be outta this suit."

You opened the driver's door and started to climb in. Bo cleared his throat and you paused, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Ain'tcha gonna open the door for me?" he pouted. 

You rolled your eyes. "Of course, my bad."

Looking pleased, he followed you around the truck and stood back while you opened his door. "Why, thank you, darlin'. Y'sure know how to show a man a nice time."

You grasped his tie and tugged him in for a kiss. "Just you wait."

The anxiety set in with force once you got behind the wheel, but Bo put his hand on your thigh and gave it a squeeze. "Relax, you know how to drive."

"What if I crash?"

"Don't."

"But what if I do?"

"I know a real good mechanic."

With extreme caution, you pulled into traffic and drove five miles under the speed limit the entire way to Bo's house. He kept his hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles on your skin, and every time you glanced over at him he was gazing back at you. 

"What's up?"

"Just admirin' you. Y'look fine as hell drivin' my truck. 'S like seein' you wear my shirt. Got me thinkin' thoughts."

"What kind of thoughts?"

Bo pinched his tongue between his teeth, dug his nails lightly into your flesh. "You just focus on the road, darlin', and let me worry about that."

When at last you parked in the garage he smiled proudly at you. 

"That's my girl."

You laughed with relief and peeled your fingers off the steering wheel. "Can't believe you let me do that."

"Neither can I. Think you're the first, baby girl."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Are you serious?"

"'S a privilege I think you've earned. Y'did well."

You led him up to the house and unlocked the door with his keys. Just inside the entryway, Bo took your face and kissed you in earnest, his tongue playing at your lip.

Your fingers smoothed down his lapels. "Let's get you out of that suit, yeah?"

You kissed him sloppily as he shrugged out of his jacket. He pulled you down the hallway feeling for the lightswitch; you fumbled with his belt while he loosened his tie in the time-honored tradition of not being able to shed clothes fast enough. 

You parted lips long enough to pant, "Unzip me?"

"Done."

He spun you around and eased the zipper down your back, peeling the dress open like he was unveiling a piece of art. His kiss on the nape of your neck sent sparks down your spine so hot they gave you goosebumps. 

With a twist of your shoulders the dress dropped to the floor, leaving you bare from head to toe. Bo's hands were on your skin before the air was, cupping your stomach, fondling your breasts, his nose in your hair. 

"Gorgeous," he murmured. "Get over here and sit on Daddy's lap, baby girl."

His fingertips brushed across your skin as he skirted around you to settle on the couch. You sat in his lap, leaned back against his chest as he hooked your legs over his knees, opening you up, exposed and vulnerable. You cast a glance to your right where you could see yourself in the reflection of the windows overlooking the backyard, curved against his body, Bo gazing smug and sultry back at you. 

"'S a mighty fine view, darlin'." His gaze moved over your body like probing fingers, curious and hungry. "Hope someone out there's peekin' in to see it."

He cupped your breasts, rolling each nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You moaned, heat throbbing in your core in time with his ministrations. His lips grazed the slope of your neck, his chin parked on your shoulder.

"Pretty thing." He drew his fingertip in a line from your navel down to the top of your slit and back. Your skin hummed. "Can y'touch yourself for me?"

Without hesitation, you parted your lips and brushed your clit with two fingers. "Like this?" Your voice was breathy and higher than normal already. 

"Just like that," he crooned. "Such a good girl." Your hips bucked against your own hand and you let out a choked, needy sound. You could feel him getting hard beneath your ass. "Who d'you belong to, angel?"

"You." His grip tightened on the flesh of your thigh. "You, Daddy."

"That's right." He caressed the crevice of your hip. Your brow furrowed as you felt his finger push into your slick hole with little resistance. "So tight, sweetness, how'm I gonna fit?"

"You'll fit," you breathed, rubbing tight circles around that most sensitive spot. 

"You sure?" He squeezed in a second finger and you whined. "Think I might have to make you cum a few more times, getcha to relax a little bit."

"Whatever you want," you mumbled, bearing down on his fingers, gasping as he stroked your insides. 

"Look at you bein' so good for me."

He swept the unoccupied fingers of his other hand across your mouth and you opened to admit his first two fingers, sucking on them with desperation, your head cradled in the hollow of his shoulder. You closed your eyes and moaned long, pulsing deliciously around him.

"Goddamn, baby. Someone better fuck you quick." 

You made a pleading sound, mind fragmented between sensations, your own hand moving erratically across your clit in the face of his slow and steady rhythm. You could feel the ebb and flow of pleasure inside you tilting ever so gradually upward, felt yourself clenching just a little tighter, let out a pitiful, indignant whine when he pulled out of you. 

"Aww, c'mon now, darlin'. I'd just rather y'cum on my cock, that's all." He withdrew his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. "Lay down and keep yourself warm for Daddy, how 'bout that?" he whispered in your ear.

You reclined on the couch, teasing your sensitive clit as you watched him undress. He wrapped one hand around his erection. "Y'see what you do to me, baby girl?" 

He bent low and kissed your forehead, laid his hand over yours and applied just enough pressure that you squeaked with overstimulation. "You trust me?"

"Yes," you said without hesitation. 

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "Hold still." 

He braced himself on the back of the couch, bent over you and reached down between the couch and the end table. You heard a jingling sound as he fished up a pair of leather cuffs, lined with suede and attached to a restraint system apparently running underneath the couch. 

Your mouth fell open. "Bo!"

"Yes dear."

"Has that been there the whole time?!"

"Yeah, 's where it goes." You laughed, shocked. "Okay if I strap you in?"

"Absolutely." You were thrilled.

"Y'sure?"

"I'm sure."

Bo looked delighted. "Gimme your hand, angel." He kissed your knuckles before buckling the cuff around your wrist. "Too tight?"

"No, just snug."

"Perfect." He took your other hand, sucked your fingers clean of your arousal, kissed your palm, and secured your wrist. You gave them an experimental jerk. They were fastened firmly above your head so your hands rested on the arm of the couch. 

"Now you want me to turn you loose, the word's crossbow, alright? I'll stop what I'm doin' and get you right out."

"Okay." 

His gaze raked down your supine form and he licked his lips. "Goddamn, I'm a lucky man." 

You tugged against the restraints, arched your back. The feeling of being at his mercy coalesced right between your legs. His fingers trailed down your throat, over one breast, across your stomach. His eyes were hungry and his hand stroked his cock almost absentmindedly. 

"Gonna be so good to you, darlin'. My baby girl."

Bo sat at your feet, lifted your leg, kissing your ankle, up your calf, along the inside of your thigh, sucking at your skin til it left a mark. His tongue licked a wide stripe up your slit, made you quiver. You squirmed, gasping, pulling against the cuffs as his fingertips trailed ticklish over your skin. 

He climbed on top of you, heavy and hot, kissing his way up your body. He lined himself up with your entrance and smiled a crooked smile down at you, eyes alight, before pushing into you slowly, so slowly, with a gentle kind of force, inch after blessed inch. 

Your head rolled back and a vocal sigh slipped from your mouth as he filled you at last the way you'd craved all night. "Oh, Bo."

He groaned in your ear, his hands curled behind your shoulders for leverage. "Baby girl." 

He rolled his hips and sent a wave of pleasure surging through you. With his full weight on top of you and your wrists immobile above your head, there was nothing you could do but accept each languorous thrust. You felt used in the best way, helpless, all his.

He fucked you slow, the swell of him inside you mesmerizing, every inch of his body pressed against yours, every tiny sound you made delivered straight to his ears. 

You wanted to touch him so badly, wanted to stroke his hair and scrape your nails down his back. All you had at your disposal was your voice. He usually had the sweet-talking handled, but through the steady-thickening film of pleasure weaving around your brain, you decided to give it your best shot.

You nuzzled your lips to his ear and whispered, "You feel so good, Daddy…am I being good for you?"

His grip on your shoulders tightened. "Shit, baby, you're bein' so good."

"Do you like my pussy?"

He groaned. "I love your pussy, baby girl." His pace picked up, his thrusts gaining the slightest edge of desperation.

Your tongue grazed his jaw. "Are you going to cum for me, Daddy?"

Bo grunted, his nails digging into your skin, cock bottoming out again and again. "Y'want me to cum for you?"

"Please," you begged softly. "Please fill me up, please cum inside me, please Daddy I need you so bad - "

Bo choked out a whine, hips heaving, head snapping back, whole body taut and shuddering. You craned your neck to kiss and suck at his throat, the vibration of his waning moans satisfying against your lips. 

When his baby blues opened they were glazed and staring. "...I'll be damned," he managed. 

You grinned at him, pleased with yourself. "Was that okay?"

"I think you know the answer to that." He rested his forehead against yours. 

"Better than your hand, maybe?"

He chuckled breathlessly. "A thousand times, darlin'." He kissed you, swept his thumb across your cheek. "I'm gonna let your hands loose but you ain't gettin' me outta that pussy anytime soon."

"Fine with me."

He unfastened the cuffs expertly with one hand and examined your skin. "Hurt at all?" You shook your head and he kissed the inside of each wrist. "Didn't faze you in the slightest. In fact, I think it riled you right up." 

"Oh, it riled someone up." You took his face in your hands and kissed him. "Next time, the dungeon?"

"Next time, I'm gonna strap you to the bed and tease you for a good long while."

"You've got these under the bed too?"

"Of course I do." He gave you a sly look. "There's a lot under that bed, baby girl."

You brushed a few wayward strands of his hair back off his brow, combed your fingers through it to loosen the gel. "Show me."

"It'd be my pleasure." 

"Show me right now?"

He laughed. "Alright, gimme a minute. I need a cigarette and a lil bourbon and then I'll show you what good girls get."

"Wait, don't go yet." You clung to him with all four limbs. 

"Needy little thing, ain'tcha," he said affectionately. "'M not goin' anywhere without you." He bumped his nose against yours and worked his way onto his side. He slipped out of you in the process and you grimaced.

"Eh, cum comes out," he said dismissively. He tucked a blanket around you both, tangled his legs together with yours and cuddled you to his chest. 

You frowned thoughtfully, drawing shapes on his skin with your fingertip. "Bo, what happens at the end of the summer?"

"Well then it's fall, baby girl, you ain't that little."

You rolled your eyes. "Not what I meant."

He smiled grimly. "You're gonna go back to college is what."

"And I won't see you anymore…."

Bo let out a long, quiet sigh through his nose. "I s'pose that's up to you, darlin'." 

"Would you let me come visit on the weekends?"

"If that's what y'want, absolutely. I'd even come see you sometimes if y'let me."

You stroked the scar on his chin. "What do you want?"

His eyes clouded with some complex blend of emotions you didn't think you could coax out of him no matter how hard you tried. His face was so close to yours, you could see the flecks of darker gray that interrupted the pale blue iris. 

"Don't matter what I want," he said. "You got a lotta options, baby girl. Bradley from Gulfport ain't one of 'em - " You snorted and he cracked a smile. "But besides his sorry ass, sky's the limit. Whatever you want." His smile faded around the edges. "Far be it from me to take anythin' from you."

You furrowed your brow. "You're not, Bo, you're not…taking anything from me. You're so good to me. You make me happy."

Something softened in his expression. "'S good to hear that, darlin', that's all I really want."

"Just because I'm leaving, it doesn't mean I'm leaving you. I mean, as long as you…still want me. If you don't, I mean, that would be…fine." What had started as a summer fling had somehow, so quickly, become something else, at least to you. You wondered suddenly if he felt the same. 

It must have been evident in your face because he ran his thumb over your lip. "Hey. I want you more'n anything." He hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable. "You make me happier than I have any right to be, darlin' , don't you ever doubt that."

You murmured his name against his thumb, squeezed him tightly. 

He tucked his finger beneath your chin and looked at you seriously. "But I need you to listen to what I'm sayin', because it's gotta be said. If you meet some fine young man or a nice young lady, and you wanna hold their hand at the movies or whatever, you don't have to feel guilty about it. You don't even have to give me a second thought, you just don't show up on my doorstep some weekend and I'll figure it out. You deserve - "

He faltered, like he was suddenly conscious of the words he was saying, of how many he'd already said. "You deserve the world, darlin', and it don't matter who gives it to you so long as somebody does. Maybe it's not me. But it better be somebody."

You gazed at him for a long time. "Are you done?"

He scowled. "You ain't listenin' to me."

"Bo."

"I need you to - "

"Bo, listen to me."

"Excuse me, I am talking."

"Beauregard."

"Don't you Beauregard me, missy, I'll leave marks on that ass."

"Bo, please!" 

He gave you a look fraught with attitude, lips pursed. "Go'n then, it better be good."

You touched his face. "I just want you." 

"Baby girl…." There was a desperation in his voice. "I don't know how to tell you that you don't."

You shook your head. "You're not gonna change my mind. I just want you."

He leaned his forehead against yours and sighed, frustrated. 

"I get your point," you said. "I understand. I promise I won't deprive myself of this magical college experience you think exists. But I'm going to be comparing everyone to you, and they're going to fall short every time." 

Bo said nothing. You could almost hear the war in his mind playing out, the clash of his desires against his better judgment, against whatever burden he held onto that made him think he was somehow not enough for you.

You rubbed the stubble of his five o'clock shadow with your thumb. "Let me come see you on the weekends," you said. "Or you can come to me. Or we can meet halfway in some shitty motel and pretend we don't know each other."

He acquiesced a small smile. "Sounds like my kinda date."

You grinned at him. "And if I meet someone else I can at least afford you the courtesy of a text, everything doesn't have to be so dramatic all the time."

He snorted. "Well I hope y'don't mind me sayin' I hope I never get that text." 

"You won't." You kissed him. "Now go smoke or whatever, you owe me like five orgasms for that conversation."

Bo laughed. "What conversation? You ain't heard a word I said."

"Go!"

"Well you gotta let me up first, baby girl."

You rolled to the side and he rolled back on top of you. You stared up at him, memorizing the lines in his face, around his eyes, how his lips curved. It made you ache, the way he looked and the way he looked at you.

"Y'know what you mean to me, darlin'?" he said. 

You put your hands on his chest. "What?"

Bo smiled, almost wistful. 

"Everything."

Taglist at the bottom bc this is a monster post already: @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @slutforguts, @brandnewhuman, @fluffy-little-demon, @cypressnmarigolds, @slasherlouvre , @g0thl3zz, @frankiethedarkangel, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @likeacidrainn, @thatoneidiotlol. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

#bo sinclair x reader #dilf bo sinclair #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #my writing #god they just keep getting longer besties #no one can stop me so don't even try

[buckyscrystalqueen]

I Can’t: Part 2

Pairings: Seb Stan x Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, introvert stuff… angst. IDK I’m bad at this kinda thing. Fluff & swearing as usual.

Word Count: 2,330

A/N: Looks like we got another one shot turned mini-series. Enjoy & Thank @magpiegirl80 for the adorable derp photo of her dog, Ollie & send love to my pups, Lucy and Skye!!!

Part 1

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

It took two weeks of denial before you saved his phone number and two weeks more of staring at it at least ten times a day before you got the nerve to even consider texting him back. The process of actually sending that text took at least a month and a half because you knew once you did… you were opening Pandora’s box. 

‘Hi… so I guess I’m your soul…’ *delete*

‘So we’re soulmates… I guess.’ *delete*

‘I’m sorry to break it to you but I can’t…’ *delete*

‘I don’t know what you want from me…’ *delete*

‘I don’t think I can handle being in the spotlight…’ *delete*

‘Hi…’ *Send*

You sat nervously in your spot on the couch in your living room, staring at the iMessage screen on your laptop, regretting hitting send severely. It was only a few moments before the three dots of doom appeared in the bottom left hand corner.

‘Hi, sweetheart. How are you today?’

You couldn’t stop the small smile that pulled at the corner of your lips as you moved your hands from where you were clutching them together under your chin and set them lightly on your laptop as if it were going to burn you for doing so.

‘Scared.’

You responded truthfully. Your head reeled as you tried to come up with just what you wanted to say but the three dots appeared once more before you could.

‘That’s perfectly understandable, (Y/N). It’s an intimidating situation.’

You nodded in agreement as you curled your hands under your chin again and bit your lip while the dots continued.

‘How about we take this slow because trust me, I have just as much anxiety about this as you do.’

You huffed a humorless laugh and shook your head as you wrote your response.

‘I doubt that. Did you stay curled up in your bed for three day watching reruns of Sex and the City?’

The moment you hit send, you wanted to melt into a hole at what you just confessed to Sebastian freaking Stan.

‘You got me there.’ 

‘But I did eat a whole pizza in like an hour if that helps at all.’

You smiled fully and nodded.

‘It does. I turn to Ben and Jerry’s myself.’

‘What’s your go-to flavor?’

You bit you started to actually chew on your lip as you glanced over your computer screen to think for a moment.

‘B&J would be Half Baked but hands down, cookie dough is my favorite.’

‘Cookie dough!!!!! I love cookie dough! But my B&J flavor would be Chunky Monkey. It’s addictive.’

You giggled as you quickly looked up the unfamiliar to you flavor and scrunched your nose at the ingredients listing.

‘Eww walnuts! I can do everything else about that but the walnuts.’

There was a few moments of hesitation before the dots appeared again.

‘I could totally insert a ‘nuts’ joke right now but I’ll refrain out of respect. LOL.’

You giggled at your screen and choose to let your inappropriate side stay hidden for now.

‘I’ll let it slide. But trust me when I say I’m far from appropriate usually. My mom gets on me about it all the time. Especially the amount of times I say ‘fuck’ in a single sentence. I make Negan from Walking Dead look like an alter boy with my mouth.’

Once you hit send, you closed your eyes and groaned.

‘Well it is a very versatile word. I’m a big fan of it’s many forms.’

He responded and you could almost see his smirk in your mind. You couldn’t help yourself with your response.

‘Oh, I bet you do! LMAO’

‘But you’re not alone there, hun.’ 

‘There it is! Hahaha! Ahhh, I love it!’

You smiled and crossed your legs under your laptop on the couch as the three dots appeared once more.

‘Hey, I’m really, really sorry to cut this short but I have a thing here in a few minutes so I have to go.’

Your smile instantly dropped.

‘Oh! Right, famous actor. Right.’

His response was instantaneous. 

‘Hey, I don’t want you to think of me like that, sweetheart. You’ll overwhelm yourself. I’m just a regular guy that has the same fears, anxiety, and hesitation about this situation as you do. Finding your soulmate is a huge, life changing step. But at the end of the day, no matter how much I want this, you still have the option to walk away. I hope you don’t. I really, really hope you give this a chance. But if you look at this with me being famous, I have a gut feeling that you’ll pull away from me before you give us a chance. And I know it’s hard to wrap your head around being in the spot light with anxiety. It’s hard to do anything with anxiety and I get that. But try to stay calm for me, OK? Please, (Y/N)?’

You read through his message twice before nodding your head slowly.

‘OK.’

‘OK. If it’s OK with you, I’m gunna text you later tonight when I get done with my thing. Sound good?’

You nodded again as if he could see you as you wrote out your response.

‘That’s fine. I’ll do my best not to psych myself out too much.’

‘That’s all I can ask from you, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you later.’

You waited a few minutes, staring at your computer screen before looking up at your front door when your mom walked in.

“I texted him.” You said simply as she set her bag down by the front door.

“Good for you.” She responded with a smile as she flopped down on her couch with a sigh after a long day at work. “I’m proud of you for taking that step.” You nodded in agreement as you looked back at your laptop screen and scrolled to the tops of the messages to read them over once more.

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

“You know, you’re the luckiest girl in the world.” Your Tumblr friend, Christine said on a Face Time call the next morning. “I’d kill to have a soulmate with that body. I’m just stuck with JP… Oi! Don’t hit!” She said as her fiancé hit her in the back of the head with a pillow.

“It’s just weird.” You said as you glanced over at the horror movie you had on as background noise. “Like, of all the fucking people in the whole world, a freaking actor is my soul mate.” You looked back at her with a shrug. “Like really? I feel like the most unlucky person in history here.”

“Bullshit.” She snapped back. “How are you unlucky?”

“Christine, it’s me! I’m awkward and loud and I say inappropriate shit all the time. How the fucking fuck am I supposed to date an actor, huh? I’d embarrass him right off the edge of the map!”

“Don’t be a dick. He obviously is fuckin’ in to ya if he’s taking time out of his busy schedule ta see how you are. So put your big girl pants on and accept that the famous actor is your soulmate, you lucky cunt and let him get to know you!” A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you looked away from the screen.

“I’m lucky as fuck, aren’t I?” You asked as you looked back at her. 

“Hell yea you are! So don’t go fuckin’ ruinin’ it by runnin’ around in your head so I can live vicariously through you.”

“Alright, alright!” You conceded. “Sorry UK hubby. I’m divorcing you!” You called out teasingly at JP.

“I want half your shite!” He yelled back causing you and your friend to laugh.

“OK, so now what?” You asked as you made yourself comfortable in your spot and muted the woman screaming on your TV. “What do I do now?”

“Well he said last night ta text him when you got up, right?”

“Yea…”

“Well you’ve been up least an hour since ye actually have clothes on…”

“Shut up.” You laughed but she continued over you.

“So text him. Stay casual…”

“And say what?”

“Say ‘hi’, ya bell end!”

“You’re a horrible friend, do you know that?” You joked.

“I know.” She said with a shrug as she picked up her long haired Jack Russel terrier, Ollie and held him up beside her face. “Do it for Ollie.”

“Rude.” You replied flatly as you waved at her. “Alright, I’ll call you later.” She waved back and said bye as you hung up the video call. You groaned to yourself and leaned back against the back of your seat as you scrubbed the heels of your palms from your hairline down to your chin. “Alright, fine.” You said aloud to your own dogs as you pulled up your iMessage app. “I’ll text him.”

‘Morning’

As you waited for his response, you turned the volume of your movie back on. You watched for a few moments before your laptop ‘dinged’.

‘It’s almost 11. If you are just waking up, I am royally jealous. I’ve been up and at the gym since 5am.’

‘Oh, hell no! I protest for you. The only exercise I do is walking my dogs around the neighborhood and whatever exercise I get at work walking clients up and down hallways.’

You turned down the volume of your laptop so it wouldn’t be annoyingly loud as the three dots popped up again.

‘1) what kind of dogs? And 2) what kinda work?’

You smiled as you grabbed your cell phone off the pillow beside you and pulled up your photos with a smile. You quickly found your favorite photo of your pups sent it to him before going back to type on your laptop.

‘Lucy is the white one. She’s a soft coated Wheaton terrier. Skye is the black one Lucy is sitting on. She’s a rescue so we don’t know exactly what she is but we say she’s a Havanese because that’s what she looks like.’

‘And I’m a CNA which is basically an under appreciated, under paid babysitter for the elderly. I work about thirty hours a week right now. Helps my mom pays bills as best as I can.’

‘OMG those are the cutest damn dogs in the entire world! I’m jealous. I miss being able to have a dog but I travel too much. And good for you on the job. I bet it’s tough to work with the elderly and not get the appreciation other nurses get.’

You nodded in agreement as you responded.

‘It takes a special kinda person to do my job. I hate it so much usually. But when I’m almost at the point where I want to throw my hands up and quit, a client or a family member makes it worth my while again.’

‘Well I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Even if no one else is. I am.’

You smirked at your screen as you took a sip of your coffee and set it down on the table beside you.

‘You have to be. You’re my soulmate, remember?’

‘Hey! I’m trying to be supportive here. You’re killin’ me, Smalls.’

You let out a barked laugh as you found the gif you had saved in a file for Tumblr.

‘For-ev-er.’

You smiled proudly at yourself as Seb responded.

‘I’m crying tears of joy that you got that reference. I’ve said it before and people just looked at me like I was more crazy than I actually am.’

‘I have classic tastes, IDK what to say. I can’t tell you how many times I have referenced ‘classic’ movies on Tumblr for it to just go right over half my followers heads. Like what is this from?’

You pulled up your file of ‘Pics & Gifs’ and scrolled through to find the one you wanted.

‘Well that one’s just too easy. The Big Lebowski, obviously.’

‘Yea for us old folks. Bet your ass 75% of the population under 25 have no idea what movie that’s from.’

‘Well now that’s just… that’s just sad.’

You nodded in agreement and sighed.

‘You have no freaking idea.’

It took a few minutes for him to respond again and you almost forgot you were texting him when he sent you another gif.

‘Name the film.’

You scoffed loudly and shook your head.

‘Really? You’re gunna try to trip me up on a Tarantino flick? He’s one of my faves and that’s ‘Four Rooms’. Try again, Seb.’

The two of you went back and forth for nearly three hours sending the most obscure movie gifs you could find; everything from ‘Airplane’ to ‘BASEketball’. Most of them you had both seen but there where a couple that either you or he hadn’t and Seb said he was starting a lit of movies you both needed to see eventually. Before you knew it, your mom was getting home for her between cases nap and your head whipped up toward the clock.

“Damn, is it really three?” She nodded as your laptop ‘dinged’ with another text.

“Hi Christine.” She said as she set her purse down on the coffee table on her way out to the back porch for a smoke.

“Not Christine.” You responded as you guessed ‘Office Space’ correctly. She stopped by the sliding glass door with her eye brows arched.

“Sebastian?” You smirked and nodded as you sent a gif from ‘Wet Hot American Summer’. “Good for you. I’m proud of you.”

“Stop.” You laughed as you mentally cheered for your soulmate for getting the right answer. “I’m just making a new friend right now. Don’t go ordering wedding invitations.” You looked over at her as she held her hands up in surrender.

“Didn’t say anything.” She claimed on her way out back. “Just glad you’re making friends again.” You grumbled at her to shut up under your breath as you pulled up yet another gif and sent it off to him.

Part 3

#Seb Stan x Reader #Sebastian Stan x Reader #I Can't