To Dance On The Line Of Danger Had Always Been Part Of The Appeal Of Being With Him. She Knew Full Well

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 . . . m / f / nb , neighbours spouse, sibling in law, step-son/brother, just anyone she shouldn't be sleeping with. inspo in source.

lorna gasps as she’s bent over the counter, legs spread apart and panties pulled down her thighs. she knows full well that she deserved it after how she’s been acting all evening, brushing against them when she passed in the hallways, fingers trailing over their ass, holding their gaze in every conversation. “aren’t you worried about someone walking in?” she murmurs, leaning back to clutch the back of their head and tug them into a kiss.

with every passing moment between them her shock begins to fade and her anger takes the forefront, emerging deep within her at the knowledge that he had been alive all that time. years passed with him alive and not even bothering to send word of it. "around?" she scoffs, shaking her head. "i've not seen you for fifteen years and all you have to say for yourself is you were around?" her anger only flares when her eyes catch his, noting the same familiar look in his eyes that he used to use on her constantly. "you damn well better explain yourself to me. you owe me that much, charles." she'd been in love with him when he'd left, uncaring of the fact that he was going to be king one day if she could only steal one more kiss from him, one more lingering touch. she foolishly thought that one day they'd even marry, that she'd be deemed good enough for him. "and do not look at me like that. you don't have the right to."

she wasn't wrong, something terrible had happened to him, and in all technicality; he was dead. however, none of that could've prevented him from reaching out, apparently. but he was a beast, a monster that he still didn't quite understand and he'd always known he'd be damned all the more if he pulled her into the depths of depravity that his life had become. the man, who'd once been the heir to the throne, was now a monster whom needed blood to sustain him. he wasn't what she'd known, he wasn't what she could possibly fathom and if he cared about her, which he did, leaving her be was the best thing he could've done. still, he knows that the slap to his cheek is well deserved, the force enough to have his head flipping to the side. he laughs, breathless, the feeling of it far more enjoyable than he knows makes sense. his fingertips raise, gentle in stroking the cheek she'd inflicted the much needed pain against. "i've been...around," he admits then, looking back at her, with the same old look of adoration in his gaze. "hard to explain away not aging in a decade, don't you agree?"

there's a smile on her lips as he hips press back against his own, taking his cock deep inside her and moaning lowly into his mouth. even though they had been married a long time now, had children and a home, she still had never grown tired of him. still wanted him the same way she had in high school and college when they reconnected again. "yeah, you don't mind people seeing me bent over for you like this?" she teases, pecking his lips once more before she turns back to the counter, hands pressed against it as she thrusts back against him, moaning louder at the feel. "maybe i do want them to know. maybe they should know that i'm your whore."

Ray should have known Lorna was up to something when she suggested they host a dinner party. They weren't exactly the hosting type. When the night came he realized her real goal even before the first guest arrived. There was something about how she looked tonight that did something to him. And then she kept touching him all night as if he wasn't going to react. So when she went to the kitchen to grab something he took the opportunity to bend her over the counter and fuck her like she obviously wanted. "No fucking way," he shot back eagerly kissing her back as he kept thrusting his hips not caring how loud they got. "Maybe you shouldn't have invited so many people over unless you wanted them to know you're a fucking tease."

*   /   𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐒  .

｡  *  𓏲  —  ꒰   27, she/her, multi-muse. selective indie smut blog using beta editor only, taboo and kink friendly with older muses being encouraged but not a requirement. this blog will be largely smut and romance focussed, with my more intense kinks being tagged. please do not interact with this blog if you are under 21. written by saturn.

guidelines. muses. opens. desires. kinks. wanted opposites.

MADELAINE PETSCH AS CHERYL BLOSSOM | RIVERDALE 4.03

Chris Hemsworth

i'm rewatching obi-wan and if i end up with a ewan mcgregor muse bc of it, then what

a smirk tugs at her lips, unable to help but tease him when he's given her the perfect opportunity to. it does soften a moment later though at how hard he's trying to make his feelings known, a struggle that the two of them share. "don't i know it." she teases idly, eyes locked on him. "i know. how about you start repaying me by buying me a burger? i'm fucking starving."

malik huffs a short breath—could've been a laugh if it weren't so dry. the hand pressed to her chest doesn't go unnoticed, and he rolls his eyes, gaze flicking away like maybe if he doesn't look directly at her, the burn of embarrassment will fade quicker. "yeah, well," he mutters, shoulders shifting in a faint shrug, "sincerity isn't exactly my strong suit." he scratches the back of his neck, suddenly very interested in the floor. "you got the gist." then, with a glance her way, quieter, but firmer: "i meant it, though."

it's ridiculous how happy it makes her just simply to hear him agree to buying her food, already perked up and far happier to be in his presence. "oh, food and vulnerability go hand in hand. no one can tell me otherwise." she shrugs, following him towards the door as she shoves her hands into her pockets to brace the cold. chuckling, she turns her head to look up at him, all too amused. "you trying to get me to beg you already? buy me dinner first." she flirts shamelessly, tone entirely teasing.

malik exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little at the shift in her tone—less edge, more familiar ground. teasing, yeah, but not biting. that he can handle. "yeah, alright," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he's trying not to grin but failing anyway. "guess that's a fair trade for emotional vulnerability." he turns, already heading toward the door with a casual toss of, “but i'm not sharing my fries. don't get any ideas.” a pause, then over his shoulder—half grin, half dare—"unless you say 'please.'”

isabelle barely has time to react, sucking in a sharp breath muffled by his hand as she stills against the wall. half of her is so shocked by his closeness that she can’t register much else, unable to remember the last time she’d had another person’s body upon hers. not since before the world had turned to shit perhaps. she blinks twice, hearing the creaking a moment later and a familiar fear shocks up her spine. it’s not the first time fox has saved her ass and she doubts it’ll be the last, her breathing turning heavy under his palm even as a hand trails down towards the knife on her thigh. she flicks her gaze to the door to their left, reaching up with her free hand to remove his own from her mouth, holding onto his palm as she leads him towards the stairwell in the hopes of escape.

open to: f/m/nb.

plot: apocalypse setting (could be t.lou or de.ad ci.ty inspired, or we can make up our own world). your muse could be either a stranger or companion. bonus if your muse gets a lil flustered being pinned to a wall. age gap welcomed.

please read my rules beforehand + replies will be moved to a new post.

he's on them in an instant, almost from out of nowhere. a hand immediately flies up to cover their mouth before any sound could be made, while he uses the rest of his body to press them up against the nearest wall to prevent any movement that would otherwise give their positions away. his eyes, a cold and hard blue, remain intensely locked with theirs, silently ordering them to stop struggling and keep quiet. an agonizing few seconds pass before the faint creaking of floorboards follows the heavy shuffling of... something could be heard above their heads. and despite the multiple layers he has on, a chill makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. one wrong move, one single sound, and they could be swarmed in an instant.