♡

VERONICA DOESN’T INTEND TO stroke her ego. Maybe the sex is great to some extent, but she’s not going to tell her that. She knows the likes of Daisy, and she has a penchant of getting under their skin. Putting her clothes on, she glances at her. Her brow arching at her suggestion for a re-do. “Aw, you wanna prove how great you are?” She nudges her teasingly. “You’ll have to earn next time.”

open to: f ✦ muse: heather james ✦ plot: we are drunk and I ended up sitting on the bathroom counter with my legs wrapped around you, but when I wrote ‘marry me’ on your hand with a sharpie, I wasn’t joking. ( original post in source ! ) ✦ suggested: best friend / childhood best friend, acquaintance ( through work, etc. )

          » the alcohol had made heather brave.  there  was  a  reason  they  called  it  liquid  confidence.  despite  her  anxieties,  she  was  sitting  on  the  bathroom  counter,  skirt  riding  up  her  thighs  as  her  lips  were  moving  furiously  against  the  others,  hands  tangled  in  their  hair.  ❝  i  think  i  love  you,  ❞  she  muttered  between  heated  kisses,  using  her  legs  to  hold  them  as  close  to  her  as  physically  possible.  she  gently  took  their  hand,  where  she’d  written  a  messy  scrawl  of  sharpie  text  on  the  soft  skin,  which  had  been  bleeding  into  the  cracks  of  their  skin.  pointing  to  the  nearly  illegible  marry  me,  she  laughed  giddily,  ❝  i  wasn’t  joking.  ❞

a brief chuckle leaves his lips. when she hikes up her leg, he plunges even further into her. his body responds with deft smoothness and ease; he knows the cues, as if this were a dance he’s done with her hundreds of times. “i’ll keep quiet,” he says, “but feel free to be as talkative as you want. tell me how you feel about me.” his hands guide hers to his back, inviting her to claw at the skin, to lose all inhibition. cuss him out, let him know what it was about him that bothers her so much. he pauses and takes his own cock by the finger, before proceeding to tease the lips of her pussy with the tip, edging, depriving her of it. he’s provoking her.

she has half the mind to shove her hand over his mouth when he keeps talking, but he guides her instead; she digs her nails into his skin only gently. every part of her body is so hypersensitive, it almost feels like she’s dying – she won’t give him the satisfaction, though. there are plenty of ways she can get her revenge, only, well, she might as well indulge a little. otherwise, what’s the point?

 ns//fw content warning. open to female muses 23+.

plot: literally just smut but with some context. your muse said she ‘hates’ felix for some reason. maybe they’re enemies, or maybe she’s his gf/ex and got jealous, idk. lots of possibilities. no abuse and taboo (this includes all forms of inc*st like stepc*st), tho. pls don’t interact if you write that. ignore the ropes and lifting in the gif, it’s just there for the shirtlessness visual

a moan emanated from felix as his erection went deeper inside slick folds. her cunt pulsated around him; the pleasure was overwhelming, and he knew, based on the way her body reacted, she must’ve been having a good time too. yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her oddly sour demeanor towards him. “for someone who hates me, you sure like taking my cock, don’t you?” he asked with a grin, though he was genuinely unnerved by it.

     ¶  “t-the days you do go out, you’re usually out for pretty much the whole day. so i just thought…” james huffed in frustration. even though it all still felt good, he realized he couldn’t keep going. his cheeks flushed, as he dropped his hand to the side. “…you weren’t supposed to be home.” and now, he totally made things awkward between them, didn’t he? “i’ve never uh… done this before.” he admitted, chuckling anxiously. 

“what, that i’d be gone all day?” he lifts one brow even though it’s true, mostly. but often doesn’t mean always.

          ¶ james finally started feeling incredible. allowing himself to become a little louder knowing he had the place to himself finally. he had barely acknowledged the door opening - just figuring it was something with the bed. until he heard aaron’s voice right at his door. “can you stay?” he wasn’t sure what possessed him to ask, because he knew he wasn’t going to be ready for the possible conversation to come after this.

he cleared his throat, not even bothering to stop. he was feeling too good that right now, he didn’t mind the embarrassment. “i didn’t think you were supposed to be around today.” not like that made it any better.

aaron doesn’t know how to take the request – is it an invitation, or is this just so totally normal for james that aaron’s meant to wait by his door until he’s done, and then they will carry on about their day like nothing had even happened? who knows. maybe he does this stuff all the time. “i mean,” he says, his voice strained, “sure. i can stay.”

opposites: (tops) boyfriend/friend/acquaintance/church goer. plot: the two of them get freaky at the back of the church while cory’s father (the pastor) gives the service.

blindly tries to bat other’s hand away from where it was palming his flaccid cock through his slacks, kept gaze on his father at the head of the church, attention seemingly unwavering from the sermon currently in process. ‘stop it,’ he scolds, wriggling against polished wood, had selected the back pew purely so they could at least exchange conversation during the third service of the day, playfully smacks the other’s knuckles as they continue to toy with his clothed cock, can feel himself stiffening under familiar touch. ‘do you want a one way ticket to hell? not that you’re not already going, i’ve seen your search history,’ brunette teases, hips shifting as his bulge becomes increasingly more prominent, it’s particularly quiet when being touched. knows his groans, no matter how stifled would echo around the church   ––   still, he doesn’t stop the other from unzipping his slacks, warm hand slipping underneath the waistband of his briefs.

                                  open to tops.

               ¶ god, he couldn’t get the other out of his head. james was absolutely enamored. he had a habit of not thinking about his safety as long as he was pleasing someone. something that was certainly dangerous. and he knew he’d do anything the other male asked of him without question. did that scare him? absolutely. but he wasn’t sure he even had to worry about it considering he was fairly certain the other male didn’t like him that way anyway.

       james had the apartment to himself, or was supposed to. so he found himself laying on his bed, stroking himself while thinking of the other male. he felt beyond disgusting doing this, but he needed something. soft moans soon started tumbling out of his mouth, whimpering the other males name.

it could be easy to say that it was a simple mistake: aaron had heard his name and had come to james’ room, thinking it might have to do with the mail, or the landlord, or maybe something so simple as a dumb video he’d wanted to show him. until he’d opened the door and realised his name on james’s tongue was shaped differently, pitched higher.

it could be easy to say it was a mistake. but aaron knows, somewhere deep down in his heart, that it really, really, wasn’t.

♡ open to: m / f / nb ! ♡ muse: emmy swan ! ♡ connection suggestion: significant other, best friend ! ♡ idea:  your muse catches mine masturbating.

WHAT   BETTER   WAY   TO   PASS  a  boring day  than  to  have  a  little  me  time  ?  emmy  decided  to  stay  where  she  was  on  the  couch  instead  of  going  to  her  bedroom  ;  she  was  home  alone  after  all.  within  the  next  couple  of  seconds , she’s  laying  in  nothing  but  a  pink  pair  of  lace  panties.  one  hand  slides  down  her  panties  &  the  other  is  grabs  her  breast.  a  quiet  moan  indicates  the  pleasure  she’s  feeling.  it  only  takes  the  femme  a  few  minutes  to  really  get  going.  the  radio  ( and  her  moans )  is  too  loud  for  her  to  hear  the  front  door  open …

rebecca had, like most people would, thought that everything would be normal when she got home. perhaps the dishes wouldn’t be put away, because rebecca never did that: no, that was always someone else’s job, someone else’s problem. she most certainly had not expected to come home to... well, this.

OPEN to M/F: making out w someone while they’re in your lap and you getting to just casually blatantly feel them up under their clothes? huge fave

To have the other so close right now felt like absolute heaven for Roman. There was no immediate pressure to rip each other’s clothes off and have sex. Instead he was able to enjoy the feeling of adoring their entire body. Lightly he bit down on their bottom lip as his hands snuck under their shirt. Slowly his hands moved down their back allowing his fingertips to drag over their skin. The softness caused his hips to jut forward not shying away from how turned on he was right now. “You have such a beautiful body,” he whispered pulling back slightly meeting their eyes as his hands moved over their sides and up their chest. 

open to f, they’re at tessie’s parents house (she still lives there), they’re having a sleepover because her parents think that they’re just friends. tessie is not out to her family yet.

“ba-babe, please, we have to be quiet if we’re going to do this,” tessie whispered, feeling her girlfriends’ hand snake up her own thigh. it was late, her parents were asleep, but she was still nervous that someone would hear them. remaining strictly platonic in front of her parents was getting harder and harder, but emotionally tessie just wasn’t ready to come out to her parents, yet. her blue eyes flicked to the closed bedroom door, then back to the remote for the tv. feeling lips attached to her neck, tess whined and reached for the gadget, turning up the volume only slightly to help cover up the sounds that were sure to follow.

margot rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh to make sure everyone in the bar could see exactly how much that frustrated her. ‘being insecure is for stupid people and i know you’re not stupid. the only difference between you and those coupled up people over there is that at some point one of them got off their asses and made a move. what’s a better place to try than here? it’s dark and people are drunk. nobody’s going to remember your shame. i threw up on a girl one time and i’m pretty sure that she superliked me on tinder like a year later.’ she downed the last of her drink and leaned back ominously far on her stool to investigate for potential victims. ‘you might be right,’ she agreed finally. ‘the pickings here are… slim. how do you feel about wendy’s if you’re going to deny me taco bell? i could go for a frosty and some of those little spicy nuggies.’ 

“i mean, there are probably several differences between me and them. one of which being they weren’t stalked and threatened by some sick freak for several years.” actually, she needs more than one drink if she’s going to bring that up. or maybe just a large bottle and several pillows and four visible walls with no one else between them.

suggested connections: ( f/nb ) employee’s daughter . plot: he’s been hired to help take care of the hundreds of acres her family owns ,  she prances around acting all high and mighty ,  like he’s a second class citizen compared to her , and honestly ,  he’s sick of it.

   digits push under the twine holding the bale together ,  lifts and stacks ,  over and over again  -  row upon row of hay perfectly arranged for ease of the other workers  .    fingers are raw but he works steadily ,  aching for that seven o’clock end time .   he’s mopping his brow with the hem of his shirt when he hears someone enter the barn behind him ,  knows who it is before he’s even gotten a look ,  can hear the DISGUSTED sighs as no doubt expensive shoes get sullied with the remnants of mud and scatterings of hay .   tempted not to even turn around ,  knows he’ll be facing smart quips about manual labor and the lower class  -   every time she opens her mouth his only desire is to bend her over the nearest bale ,  hike up her custom dress and tear at the fabric of her panties ,  force his cock inside her and fuck her until legs can no longer hold her up .  would leave her there ,  alone in the barn with his cum dribbling out of her cunt until she found the strength to waddle back to the main house .   ‘  come to see what real work looks like ?  ’   doesn’t still his actions ,  returns his attention to the next bale in line    ––––     ‘    don’t  you  have  a  luncheon  you  should  be  attending  ?  ’  

daisy leans against the barn door, making sure to tilt her hips forward ever-so-slightly, to lean her head at an angle that shows off the perfect curve of her neck. let him know what he’s missing – that is, if he’s even going to look at her. at least he’s giving her a good view.