ＮＳＦＷ．→ ＯＰＥＮ

[roseling]

1.

one more creature
dirty with love

❱  pick a muse
texts, images, prompts

                        / overflow

Comments

[recuperate]

Sorry I've been MIA again.

curls these two up protectively

[archied]

you don't have to apologize, harper. we've all got a lot going on.
have you been okay, at least?

same ;;

[recuperate]

Yeah, I'm okay, just trying not to be swamped by homework. Finally seeing the light.

Miss seeing you.

for brooke.

[carwrecked]

[ sleep eludes him, both body and mind far too restless to allow himself to slip into slumber, regardless of how late the hour may be. though it couldn't be more than an hour, it feels as though he's been lying in bed all night, waiting for rest to overcome him, to no avail. finally, he allows himself to give in to the desire to message her, having resisted this entire time, telling himself that she's likely asleep, that he shouldn't bother her. ]

you still up? i can't sleep.

[finalgirled]

[ sleep didn't come often nor kindly to brooke for, well, as long as she can remember now. when phone buzzes softly against her nightstand, for a moment she debates ignoring it, small breath let out through her nose as she thumbs across a sketch she'd mindlessly fallen into, however curiosity wins out.

so maybe theres the faintest smile curling her lips at the name illuminating her screen. maybe. not that she'd admit it. ]

i suppose for you i could be.

text | jace

[creatio]

[ Hello Jace, she hopes you're not doing anything important right now because your phone is chiming with this image as a greeting. ]

see? all better, no bruising.

[ Totally how you sext a Shadowhunter, right? ]

[runeism]

[ Admittedly, he takes a bit too long studying all aspects of the picture in which had null to do with the bruising that'd previously painted her porcelain flesh. Clary wasn't naive, nor would she believe him to be. He can only wonder what it is that's on her mind. ]

I'm glad to see you've recovered. And without a healing rune? I'm impressed.

[ He's behaving. For now. ]

pic prompt | jace

[creatio]

can't find any appropriate blindfold pics but i'm for real ready to work it in if you'd like lmao.

pic prompt | crowe

[messofhangups]

(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

[altiust]

[ they were growing reckless, truly, but she hasn't the mind nor the will to tug up any bit of decency left ashen beneath the haste they'd found stumbling up the stairs, door to her apartment jarring open for the two to spill inside. the night had started like any other between them— light, starlight complimenting the others features as they broke into laughs, raveling the other closer before rounding a corner, hip to hip and so often mouth to mouth. it was when she'd suggested returning to her place, rather than the common request of his, that tenderness swelled betwixt their frames, and it'd been all teeth and tongue and touch from there.

it was easier to press off how much it truly meant for her, having another inside her quaint, private world with eager hands lifting her from the ground, propping her bottom atop the counter, it's surface biting a chill at the back of her thighs. there's a learned grace to his movements, as if every evening they'd spent together palms had grown more accustomed to the subtlety of her curves, just how to hook his fingers beneath thin material of her panties to clear them from her limbs with little effort.

a heady sigh, taking the single, suspended moment that comes just after to lock hues with his, parting thighs to give a sudden, sharp tug to land him between. she disposes of his shirt, lets own hands admire the lean expanse of his chest, abdomen, pupils blooming wildly within the dark. ]   I want you.

CHERYL MOTHERFUCKER

[gingerfy]

I know it's late and it's been months and I probably should have asked this a long time ago, but are you okay?

[maplered]

I guess we're past the point of lying and thinking the other doesn't know better.
I'm not sure any of us are okay, Archie.

[meanqueen]

ace? are you alright?

[ nimble digits finally deliver the message through, lips bitten and worried from her teeth. she knows the answer. there hadn't been any pretty way to pry the two of them apart, tugging at ace's dress shirt, raveling fists into that of a boy she was quite disinterested to call her date, parting ways with flushed cheeks and the forewarning bite of tears raging at her lashes. she'd questioned whether or not it would do any good to message him, now sitting at the edge of a lux king bed alone, changed into nothing but one of his t shirts, make up and hair still evidence of the night. ]

[ashten]

[ the loneliness he shoulders feels heavier than normal, announcing itself with a sharp pain amidst his chest. his knuckles glare purple across the leather of his steering wheel, the only evidence of earlier's events left other than slightly disheveled clothing, the blood of another boy splattered across the white of his shirt. he hated the suit anyway.

when she messages him, there's a consideration to leave it ignored; his chest still aches from hours of watching her with someone else, a comfort only found in the flask kept tucked away in his jacket. he wants to ignore her, but he can't. he's never been able to. ]

does it matter?

[meanqueen]

[ she's debated multiple times where she should allow limbs to shift from her own sheets, whether bare feet should tread the wooden floorboards down the hall to slip into his room, silent as she always was— and yet no matter how many times she's told herself, in the past and now, that she shouldn't, she is. footsteps are feather light, no more than one of his t shirts claiming her figure. his room is dark, teeth sinking against plush of her brims as she nears edge of the mattress.

she doesn't wait for any indication on whether he'd heard her or not, whether he was awake- more often than not, he was. and even on moonlit occasions when he didn't stir, she'd simply curl up beside him, find an excuse in the morning if she hadn't slipped from his room in time for him to know. the bed dips just slightly when a single knee crawls atop it, then another. ]

[ashten]

[ sleep rarely ever welcomes him anymore, so it's no surprise that he's yet to slip beneath the dark veil of slumber, still desperately trying to build the courage to allow himself. his fists are clenched, mouth curled into a frown against his pillow, body faced in the direction opposite of the door. he senses a shift within the room, even the slightest movement in shadows letting him know he's no longer alone. the muscles in his back visibly tense, though he already knows who it is. it's rare she doesn't find her way to his bed eventually anymore.

he doesn't bother to roll over even after she's slipped into his mattress, enough room allowed for her already, as if he'd expected her presence. as if he'd hoped for it. ] they'll kill us if they catch you here, you know.

there are roses in between my thighs and a fire that surrounds you.

[meanqueen]

( it's a distraction, and isn't it always? the haze of bodies that clutter the backyard, sit with toes and limbs dipped in the pool and playful splashes of the larger jacuzzi; she doesn't allow herself to think too long about the miscellaneous beer cans finished and not sitting along their edges, tossed into bushes and occupying the hands of nearly every teen at that party. she's long since lost track of ace, though often granted a murmur as to his location from some girl passing by, at times grabbing at her arm as a means of hushedly trying to get some sort of in, an advantage over the others that pined for his attention.

this time it comes in the form of a nudge, a nod toward the double doors leading into the home that would otherwise be locked if her and ace both held the proper keys—but they didn't, and all she catches is the long swish of hair being led in by the broad-shouldered boy she could so easily recognize; not because he was a part of her family, now, (the idea of which was laughable, still), but for interests that are best left tucked down.

unknown.

she really should temper herself better, shouldn't give herself away, but she did instate a rule the night prior. it'd been more of a sharp comment to him in passing amongst the hallway, really, while their parents discussed downstairs when they'd be leaving the next morning for their flight. no one was let into the house. as if she gave a shit about the valuables or possessions that could easily be pawned, she'll still play it up as if she does. and that's what finds her slowly sauntering up those stairs, finding the two of them having just stumbled into his bedroom. a small hum in distaste, and she's pressing on a tight-lipped smile, uncaring as to just what she might be interrupting as she leans against the doorway with a two-knuckle rap.

not that it was his style to take his time. )

Sorry, I thought I made myself clear the other night.

[ashten]

( you've spent the entire night trying to keep away, trying to distract yourself from what you really want by baiting other girls, pretending to be interested in anyone but the only girl you're not allowed to look at that way. at least, that's what you've been telling yourself, repeating over and over again that it was wrong, that, by law, you were brother and sister. not that you care much for the law anymore, breaking it any chance you get. it's only the fear of your mother's disappointment that makes you hesitant. the loss of your family crippled her, as it did you, and the last thing you want is to ruin the closest thing to happiness she's found since, all because you're selfish.

but you are selfish.

not selfish enough to lead nina away yourself, but enough to tempt her to follow you. you remember what she'd told you just the night before, which is exactly why you disobey, finding the first blonde to attract your attention, offering her a tour inside your house, all with the hopes that it would bother her. your step sister. but even if that plan falls through, you wouldn't complain. all you seem to want these days is a body to distract yourself with, because it makes you feel like you're good for something again, like your hands are more than just weapons of destruction. for a while, you can forget that those are the same hands that killed half of your family.

it's those very same hands that are pulling the girl -- you forget her name -- closer when you hear a knock on the door. you're not nearly as inconvenienced or caught off guard as you pretend to be, because it's exactly what you'd hoped for. but you play the part, because you have to. because you're not alone with her. because you shouldn't want to be in the first place. you pull back from your company, eyes rolling. almost instantly, the other girl is forgotten. )

You have to be fucking kidding me. Why?

happy holidays –

[exteriors]

archie: u can say that again

[archied]

( she was... something. she'd always been something, since the first moment he'd met her. archie hasn't exactly been known for his ability to withstand temptation for very long, nor his decisiveness, but god, if there was any getting her out of his head, off of that sweet scent she's left behind at his sheets, he hasn't found it yet.

really, he doesn't care to.

there's even been the introduction to his dad; a little awkward, sure, but it's kind of par for the course. a girl he's never seen before, though likely suspected given the late hours in which he'd let her into the home, refusing to let her sneak out the window even if she'd insist—she'd be worth getting caught over. tonight, though, they've got the house to themselves, his dad off at some christmas party with the rest of the workers, betty and jugs tied up, and her right before him in that maddening skirt he wants nothing more than to slip his hands under.

only thing that's just as tugging for his attention is that mistletoe that's hanging right above their heads. yeah, maybe he'd known it was there, right in the wide entry to the family room where the fireplace crackles with a healthy glow, where wide palms find each side of petite hips. he doesn't tug her closer, not yet, instead lets that boyish smirk at the edge of his mouth blossom a little wider, keeping his gaze with hers as he speaks. )

Look up.

gimme whoever u want boo

[befriends]

[jakeriley]

( she's radiant—every bit the visage of a woman he doesn't deserve, that shouldn't have ever given him the slightest glance within that bar glimmering with holiday decor, lights strung up between lanterns and christmas music slowed to a jazz with clinking drinks. it wasn't like him to be caught in such a place, either; it wasn't as bad as the many hole in the wall places he could've tucked himself within if he were looking to solely drown himself in whiskey, that wasn't what this was about.

it's some sort of wounded cheers to the countless lives that'd been lost during that outbreak. to the kids. to katie. and the moment he pressed that glass to the bed of his lips is when he'd seen her, enticing in the most subtle of ways; a profound strength undoubtedly running through her veins, a determination, and perhaps maybe a little bit of the not wanting to be found mindset he'd found himself raveled within, too.

it wasn't the first night they'd kept one another company at that mahogany bar, talking, actually talking, before they'd part ways beneath the blanket of snow outdoors with hands tucked into his pocket, trying to slip back into the line of duty the next morning without her clouding his mind. she always did. and maybe that's what's weakened his discipline on the third night, maybe that's why he finds it unbearable to think of parting from her just yet, of letting that bar be the only place he knew her. so there's an invitation, kind in the way it's given to ensure she wouldn't assume him the type of man to take anything from her that wasn't desired.

an invitation and an acceptance, and two people walking side by side til they're ducking to the harbor of warmth that was his place, away from the cold. he gets a fire going in the place within his living room, grabs two glasses and a bottle of wine he'd been gifted from his chief. he tries not to let his gaze sweep over her for too long, tries not to make it obvious when it settles at the pout of blooming red lips, a teeth-bared smile greeting her as the glass is offered. )

Some kind of red. I can't promise much more than that.

❱ text, isabelle.

[jakeriley]

I've gotten a lot of calls into your area tonight.
Should I be led to believe you're causing trouble, Miss Lightwood?

archiekins!

[ronnied]

( 1 2 3 )

i'm still behind so forgive me! (3.)

[archied]

( it's difficult to remember what it feels like for things to be normal, for callous palms not to be smudged with dirtied blood, remnants that never seem to come off. with his dad in the hospital, his mom lingering with a concern that makes his stomach knot, there isn't much solace he can find save for burying his nose in the warmth of her neck, hot breath expelling as brief-covered hips give another roll against her backside.

he'd tried behaving, tried to just sleep it off, listen to the crackling coming from the next room over outside of her bedroom, but her skin and taste and figure are too palpable, too potent not to give into. she's more than just a distraction, always has been, but right now she's exactly what he needs, already hard beneath that thin layer of cotton as he grinds up against silk-covered cheeks. )

Ronnie, ( it's groaned quietly at the nape of her neck, a need, an asking for permission, to let him know that it was okay to have her when he was like this, reckless and grief-stricken—vulnerable. )