She's Obsessed With Her Husband In A Way She Never Has Been With Another Man, Which Makes Sense Considering

she merely watches her for a few moments as he strokes hiself, her own hand trailing down to skim over the head of his cock, teasing him. selaena leans down over him, one hand cupping his face as she kisses him, smiling against his lips when she pulls back again. it wasn't often that she was hired for jobs like these, a thrill running through her at the prospect of teaching the crown prince. "have you ever seen a naked woman before?" she questions, sitting up to straddle him, entirely bare for his gaze.

@indiestarter // Open Starter with Crown Prince Alastair of Lunaruz Connection: Your muse is the one to teach Alastair how to please his future wife. Based on Shawn Mendes’s “Teach Me How To Love” Open To: F/NB

Alastair lay naked on the lavish, elegant bed he was given upon being declared Crown Prince of Lunaruz, having been given a natural, hypoallergenic lubricant and being instructed to stroke his gradually growing erection. ‘Fuck,’ he thought, growing more and more around at the prospects of pleasing the courtesan. He’d follow her every word, and become a masterful lover so he could please his future wife in bed from the wedding night onward.

it had never been the plan to turn on her gang. it hadn't been the plan to fall in love with her target either, but she hadn't expected him to treat her as he has, or have a touch that left her longing for him whenever he wasn't around. it's why she had turned on them, betrayed all of them to join his ranks instead, assassin and lover. it's why she gets off on this, kneeling naked under the table with his cock in her mouth. she smirks around him, revelling in every touch of his hand in her hair. arabella gazes up at him, fingers gentle against his thighs as she bobs her head slowly, unable to help herself when it came to teasing him.

open to: f/m/nb (subs only, age gaps welcome)

muse: elijah seo, 39 year old crime boss

plot: elijah is a powerful man in the criminal underworld, after making a lover out of a member of a rival gang, he proudly displays them in a meeting with their old gang members.

possible connections: lover, affair partner

"i see, so you tried to kill me, and are now begging for my forgiveness because you couldn't handle the repercussions?" elijah questioned, his gazed flickering over the faces of the other men around the table as his hand absentmindedly carded through his lover's hair under the table. it was no secret what was going on, the table was made of glass after all, and his partners naked body kneeling between his legs on the floor was meant to be a statement. something that had once belonged to them, now willingly belonged to him. was sitting so obediently for him, keeping him in their mouth as he listened to the members of their old gang grovel for his forgiveness.

there's an easy smile that settles on her face as he listens to his response, heart swelling. at every opportunity presented he had always stepped up and proved that he was perfect for her. "i think that the last time we tried so hard for kids it nearly destroyed us. and now we have these two perfect babies, our marriage is better than ever, and i don't want to jeopardize that. i don't want to try for any more babies. i don't want to go on birth control either though, so if i were to get pregnant again, great. but i couldn't be happier with what we have." her fingers curl against his neck, humming as they press close together. "fingers, ears, there are plenty of options. though i want his trigger finger gone." she steps back, eyes remaining only on ross as she leans against the bench, reaching for a knife. she runs a blade sharpener against it's edge as she watches him, satisfied smirk curving her lips as she listens to him threaten the swine that had threatened their family. "you're really sexy when you do that, mr. strollo."

"You know babe I don't wanna rule it out but I like to think we got really lucky with the babes. I mean, if we keep trying is it selfish to put yourself through that? I mean if you wanna try, we try. I just think we take this time to be the best damn parents we can for them." Although Ross would gladly give Isabelle all the children she wanted things didn't also work out how you wanted to them to. Which is why he was open to dedicating themselves to the twins. As the shitbag before them continues to groan with pain he eagerly pulled his wife closer by the hips pressing their bodies together. "Ok yeah we can do that. I mean people can live without a few fingers or teeth, we just might not be so kind about the process of removing them." Smirking at how the man before them started to plea about sparing him. With a sigh Ross pulled back to kneel before him reaching to take his banged up face in his hand forcing eye contact. "You agreed to come after my fucking kids. This isn't a negotiation. It's a punishment. Don't worry we'll leave enough so you can eat solid food and tell people about what happens with you fuck with the Rossi family. Now don't let me hear you bitch again or we'll do something to shut you up."

things had gotten so intense between the so quickly, but he had known upon meeting her that she was a woman he needed in his life. whether that was simply as a friend, a lover, or something more, he knew that whatever that pull was between them was something he needed in his life. preferably as his, but he would settle for whatever he could get. "fuck, harriet." he kisses along her jaw, face finding it's place in her neck and continuing to press kisses there. it's too intense to look her in the eye, the lust already creeping over him and making him thrust into her hand with a bit more intensity. he squeezes her nipple again before groping her entire breast, rocking forward as her words cause his orgasm to start to build. "you're killing me. so fucking perfect for me." the idea of getting to cum on her again mixed with the way she tugs at his hair and kisses his neck has him groaning her name in pleasure, cum spilling out onto her belly and over her hand.

If this would make Tomas content at least for the duration of this trip Harriet didn't mind. Not to mention that above her own emotional feelings her body craved him too. For now this was enough. His touch, his kiss and especially his voice. "Good," she whispered against his mouth allowing him to continue kissing her as she stroked his cock. "You're okay I won't judge." She replied knowing at times some men were self conscious about that but in this scenario it didn't matter. As if she would stop if it took longer. While she felt herself getting wet right now she wasn't going to indulge in that feeling, right now it was all about him. "You know I don't mind you making a mess on me," she grinned lightly pulling his hair again to expose his neck before leaning down suck at his skin not minding if she left a mark behind. Even if she wasn't completely his yet, Tomas was hers already.

"you should, but you won't." she teases, voice light and high as she smiles over at him. she rounds his desk, picking up a stack of papers that needed to be filed and letting her fingers brush against his arm as she did. she'd never quite been able t help herself when it came to flirting with him. "you'd have to fend for yourself, and i fear what would happen if that were the case."

her words steal a soft chuckle from him, but he knows it's nothing but the truth. "you're incorrigible," comments with a disapproving shake of his head. "i should fire you." an attempt at a joke because they both know he would never do such a thing, it's been years and she's probably the very best thing about his life these days, no matter how pathetic that even sounded. "but then who would keep me in line?"

she smiles down at his reaction to her touch, thumb brushing over the head of him again before she encircles her fingers around his cock, slowly stroking downwards towards the base. she moans at the way he plays with her tits, every brush of his fingers against her nipples making her sensitive and wetter against her thighs. "you're doing very well, my prince." she compliments, genuine as pleasure courses through her as he sucks on her, fingers working the other side and making her long for his cock to fill her. "and my name is selaena." she answers with a smile, leaning down to kiss him again as her hand continues to stroke his cock slowly. "do you want me to show you the other place to touch to prepare a woman for you? we are rather complicated, and making us wet enough before simply fucking us is important if you want her to enjoy herself."

Alastair stripped down fully, admiring her body with his eyes, desperate to touch her but uncertain as to where to start. His c^ck was standing proud, bucking against his stomach and already leaking from excitement. When she rubbed her thumb over the tip of his erection, he hissed with arousal and sensitivity. “They’re so warm and full,” Alastair complimented her, massaging them with surprising skill. He may be a virgin, but he’d had flings where he’d felt up his partners. He’d also gotten his c^ck sucked a fair number of times, causing him to favor it during foreplay.

Instinctively, Alastair put his mouth to one of Selaena’s nipple, suckling and nibbling at it gently, using his hand to massage and twist her other nipple. “Am I doing well? And…what is your name?” He asked, blushing.

she’s fucked. she knew that without a shadow of a doubt that she would have been better off leaving him to die where she’d found him, especially when she recognized who he was. king valor, the number one enemy territory that her brother had been trying to conquer and absorb into his own kingdom. she knew that by extension, valor was supposed to be her enemy too, that she should have handed him over to her own king and ended the fighting. but at the sight of him bleeding and helpless outside her estate? well, it had her swearing her staff to secrecy and having her healer look over him. she’s been anxiously awaiting him waking, stood on the balcony when she hears his voice and she hesitates before she walks inside. what if he recognized her as his enemy’s sister? what if he killed her for his own gain? but she swallows, entering the room anyway and reassuring herself that he was hardly a threat in his condition. “you’ve been sleeping a long time. are you hungry?”

status -> open to all 21+ muses *we do not have to be mutuals to reply! supernatural muses welcome, too! + canons if applicable but will be selective*

setting -> my muse, inspired by arthur from camelot lore, is the king of a small realm && has been severely injured in battle. your muse, perhaps not realizing that he is the king, has taken on the task of nursing him back to health && saving his life. bonus points if your muse is on the enemy's side, or maybe does know who he is && has other intentions, entirely utp!!

my other opens - always accepting responses!

i should be dead. it was the first thought that floated through the throbbing agony of king valor's mind, before the full force of the pain hit his body. bones, broken. flesh, torn. he last remembered the devastating swing of a sword- a blurred face with lifeless eyes as they swung to claim his own... valor startled fully awake. groaning as he sat up, nearly passing back out again as color dazzled in fractals of his vision, bile rising in his throat as his body screamed protest to movement. maybe i am dead. he shook, trying to focus on his breathing, eyes wild as they took in unfamiliar surroundings. valor looked down, noticing his clothes were gone. the royal crest, the weapons, the armor... exposed, vulnerable, with bruises blooming over so many surfaces. " hello? " the king croaked, realizing how dry his throat was, how he was too weak to stand. to fight, to run. fear flooded his veins like ice. " am i alone here? "

he doesn't know what he's doing with her, chalks it up perhaps to the fact that he hadn't done this in a long time and she just looks too damn good in her shirt and panties. his hands splay against her back as he kisses her, sliding his tongue into her mouth and grunting into it when he hears her whine. logical thought goes out the window they're pressed again, consumed only with the thoughts of her tight little body and how good she is with her mouth. "fun, huh?" he goes when she presses him down on the couch, his hands skinning up her thighs to grip her hips, helping her grind on his hardening cock. "yeah, i think you might just be worth the trouble." his hands find the bottom of her shirt, tugging it up over her head and exhaling at the sight of her. "fucking beautiful." he bucks up against her pussy, leaning forward to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

As quickly as the kiss started it was over and Bea was left wanting for more when he pulled back. Even the way he sighs is attractive to her and it's difficult not to pull him in for another kiss. Something about the way he's looking at her though stop her from doing anything. Then when he calls her trouble she breaks out into a grin. While other people may think that was a bad thing she took it as a compliment. Before she can even reply they're kissing again and she presses her hands against his torso wanting to feel his body. A needy whine leaves her lips knowing this won't be enough. With her hands gripping his shirt she pulled him away from the window pushing him down onto the couch. "Maybe but I'm fun trouble," she grinned as she straddled him already grinding herself down against him. "You wanna see how much trouble I can be?"

while jobs like these were above her pay grade these days, there was something about doing them with bishop that left her pulse racing. the intrigue of pretending to be different people for the night while still always together, his arm around her waist and her hand on his chest to let everyone know they were each other's. she nods, eyes glinting as they move towards the high rollers table and she allows her mask of shallow trophy wife to settle in as they approach their target. a smirk takes her lips, turning her lips towards his ear. "gladly. if he goes for it after midnight though, you have to buy me a sybian." she settles a hand atop his shoulder as he places his bets, mouth curving at the familiar number. their hotel room and then the date of their anniversary years later, cementing the number as theirs. dark eyes settle across the table on viktor. she allows her smile to grow somewhat sly as she gazes at him, noticing the fact that the creeps eyes settled on every curve except her eyes. but that had been the plan, always was. let him assume that her husband was the only one of the two that was dangerous. she grins when bishop wins, bending down to press a kiss to her husband's cheek. "well done, mi amor. i told you i was your lucky charm." she says loud enough for the table to hear, noticing their target's eyes settling on her husband.

ten  years  of  this  dance ,   stolen  kisses  in  safe  houses,  her  heel  digging  into  his  calf  during  interrogations  —  and  still  she  could  make  his  pulse  stutter  like  a  faulty  detonator.   across  the  room,  viktor  shoved  away  from  the  table,  his  security  detail  a  trio  of  gorillas  in  ill-fitting  suits.  bishop’s  grip  tightened  imperceptibly  on  isabelle’s  waist.  “time  to  cash  in,”  he  murmured,  nodding  toward  the  high-limit  roulette  pit  where  cigarette  smoke  coiled  like  ghosts  above  emerald  felt.   “shall  we  wager?  if  he  takes  the  bait  before  midnight…  you  owe  me  that  thing  with  the  handcuffs.” sharp smirk, and a squeeze of her hip.  he slid into a vacant seat, stacking chips with deliberate slowness.  “no  more  bets.”  he  stacked  his  chips  with  the  precision  of  a  man  who’d  counted  cards  in  back-alley  parlors  since  he  could  shave.  black  29.  the  number  hummed  in  his  veins  —  same  as  the  hotel  room  where  they’d  first  fucked  during  a  storm  in  miami ,  rain  slashing  the  windows  as  she’d  dug  her  nails  into  the  scar  on  his  shoulder.  superstitious?  maybe.  but  survival  in  their  line  of  work  required  rituals  sharper  than  prayer. the  roulette  wheel  spun,  ivory  ball  clattering.  bishop  didn’t  watch  it.  he  watched  isabelle’s  throat  flutter  as  she  laughed  —  a  sound  like  breaking  crystal  —  and  the  way  viktor’s  piggish  eyes  tracked  the  sway  of  her  hips.  let  the  bastard  look.  let  him  salivate.  the  ball  clattered  to  a  stop.  “black  29.”  the  croupier  announced,  voice  flat  as  a  coroner’s.  a  ripple  went  through  the  crowd  —  tourists  clutching  pearls,  high  rollers  eyeing  bishop’s  growing  pile.  he  let  his  gaze  slide  to  viktor.  the  man  was  staring  now,  piggish  eyes  glinting  — that  always  undid  his  kind.  there  you  are.

there's the feeling of delight inching through him as he watches her, so casual about the blood on her weapon and the dead body on the floor. he hadn't expected their interests to align so thoroughly, and for the first time he sees her as something that could be more than just fun. he approaches her, hand reaching for her waist as he looks down into her eyes. "sure. i got my men that do this shit for me all the time. they'll do it for you if i tell them to." pulling his phone to his ear, he makes his conversation thorough but brief, squeezing joey's waist all the while as he does. when he hands up, he grips her with his other hand, tugging her closer. "you know, it makes me kinda hard to know you can take care of business like that."

the lack of emotion coming from dante doesn't surprise her all that much. perhaps it's the reason they get on so well together. her body is still pumping adrenaline, blood dripping from the sheers onto the cold ground outside of her shop as she watches her boyfriend kick the man's body. the words don't shock her either; she knows he has a rather shady background, something that initially attracted her to him. the idea of not having to lug around the body sounds so nice that she can't help but grin at him. "you'd do that for me? good, 'cause this asshole's heavy."