muse

#1 ★

[jinxedmuse]

she20 | darknsfw18+

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[naprasno]

[ozarkthedog]

18+ Titus Danforth x fem!reader — no spoilers!

Titus prefers you sit on his lap while he smokes his cigars.

He loves the feeling of your weight and soft curves on his thighs.

Sometimes, the two of you sit in silence while he smokes, letting the events of the day settle in, especially if there was a rather tough kill.

Other times, he can't help but wind his arms around your waist and lock you in his grip. He'd fondle your breasts, ass and everything in between while grinding his cock against you.

He'd order you to untie his ascot and put your hands behind your back. With arms securely tied by silk fabric, you're vulnerable and subject to his capricious whim.

"You're so pretty like this." Titus muses with a timbre like grinding stones. "Bound and at my mercy."

Smoke billows from his lips as he plucks the cigar from his mouth. The bitter vapor burns your eyes and makes your throat seize.

"The sweetest offering I've ever received."

reblog and comments are extremely appreciated 💙

[livefromsin]

i think it's really funny that dexter's hallucinations show brian with different hair. he is predicting his brother will get a haircut and what clothes he will wear. brian is like his barbie that he gets to dress up in his head

[highlandhour]

Worst seven minutes in heaven, ever!

Content warnings: Adrian Chase x Fem!reader, no use of y/n, 18+ mdni, making out, grinding, barely any plot except for the tiniest bit of angst at the end, desperation, clothed, high risk, the mask is OFF, not proofread.

Adrian shoved you through the bedrooms closet, pressing you against clothes and hangers, his hands all over your body as he tries to hide you away. Doors clattering as he slams them closed. The small space making the air stuffy and warm. Your heavy breathing isn’t helping much either. He’s ripping off the Vigilante mask just to slap a hand over your mouth when you gasp at the sight of him roughly manoeuvring you further into the already small space. Nudging together in the close proximity as you both look through the door slats to watch for danger.

Shadows flick by. Flashing in a rave-like manor. Silent and bright.

Adrians fingers grip at your cheeks as he looks down, making intense eye contact, motioning you to be quiet. You shift causing your hips to bump lightly across one another. He stills, looking down between you. Pelvis to pelvis. The plates on his suit hard against your clothed thighs.

Adrian sucked in a quiet hiss at the sight, inhaling while extending his other arm to brace himself on the wall behind you, essentially leaning more into your space. Like he did with you, you shove your palms over his mouth, his chest heaving as your elbows rest on the blue and white arrows painted on his breastplate.

Countless times you told him there were too many for you both to take on. Should have ran.

A door slams and commanding voices ring through the building, frightening you both into freezing. Heartbeats hammering against ribs, listening for footsteps. Any kind of indication on how fucked you both could be. Adrian leans in closer to you, his armoured frame covering yours. Shielding you away from the doors.

There was nothing. No other sound of additional armed assailants as the voices slowly fade away. But who knows for how long?

His leg slips between yours, thigh pressing right to your core, a breath sighing between your fingers as he slumps in a little relief. Your eyes dart to his but he was more concerned at keeping watch of the door.

Muffled you quietly murmur his name behind his hand. He pushes his large palm firmer to your lips, turning to stare down at you again with a furrowed brow. ‘Shut up’ written across his features. Your own hands stay pressed across his mouth, feeling the heat of his breaths coming in quick succession. He moves slightly, bending to peer through the sliver of light the slats of the closet door provides. His thigh pressing harder into you.

You’re fucked. You’re so fucked.

One of your hands shoot down to grab at the meat of his thigh, trying to push it away just a little bit, standing on your tippy toes. Just enough so you don’t moan at the contact. Adrian lurches at your touch, his braced arm faltering and grabbing at your bicep.

You both stand there for a couple of seconds. Panicked breathing, encroaching upon one another. Your eyes flick down to his leg and his gaze follows.

Adrian instantly goes still. Taking in the image before him. As though it wasn’t his thigh slotted between your legs.

Tentatively he lifts his thigh up, wedging against the seam of your jeans before gently pulling away. Watching as your eyes fly up to his in a quiet whine. He does it again, seemingly enjoying your reaction, absorbing your tiny annoyed whimpers.

Slowly, he slides his hand from your mouth to your jaw, tipping his head down towards you. Your other hand stays put on his lips as he nudged your mouth to your knuckles. His lips press firmly into your palm. Effectively "kissing" you through your own hand.

He bucks his hips into you experimentally, looking at your expression to gauge just how far he could go. Your fingers tremble over his cheeks, the others squeezing hard into the muscle of his thigh. A quiet mumble spills from his lips, warm in your palm. “This okay?”

The pressure was delicious, almost made you forget you’re both actively trying not to get caught. Maybe that was the point. Maybe thats why you rut your core up against him the second he bucks into you again.

You nod. You nod so harsh you could have rattled your brain.

Adrian pushed your faces closer together, shoving you gently back against the wall to lick and nip over your palm. Hangers clicking, long coats and dresses enveloping your bodies in a darkness of cloth. Your own lips pressed firm to the top of your hand, wayward gasps escaping over the skin.

“Kiss me.” He whines into your hand under his breath. “Just a little, please.” His own roams across your front, grabbing at your chest. Squeezing lightly.

Cautiously, your fingers trail down his face, landing to grip the collar of his suit. You blame the stuffiness in here. Lack of oxygen. That’s it.

His lips hit yours in seconds. Surprisingly soft. Leaving quiet gentle pecks. He moves to cup your face, tilting you ever so slightly to kiss you deeper. Rocking his thigh back and forth, nudging your clit with every steady movement.

“Adrian-” you mumble, a familiar warmth bubbling below your stomach. He shushes you, pressing little incoherent whispers to your mouth only to lick across your bottom lip.

It was building fast. Too fast.

“Adrian please-”

“I know, just..” his own groans strain as he pulls back, swallowing quietly only for his own thrusts to move faster against your hip. “Please.” His expression was devastating, that of someone at the edge of blissed out and infatuation. Lips swollen, eyes glassy. Before your brain caught up, you find your hand slipping under his high collar. Cupping the back of his neck. Nails digging into the skin.

You push your hips up against him, letting the pleasure roll over you. Letting go of the tension. Anchoring yourself to him. Dropping flat from your tippy toes to rest your weight on his strong muscle.

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth. Eyes squeezing shut. He was so hard against you. Slotting himself right where thigh met hip. Each thrust pulling your core higher up onto him until he suddenly reaches down to roughly clasp at the back of your lower glute, dragging you fully onto him. Pushing his hardness into the bend of your leg.

It was too much. The angle hit higher. Nudged just right. You whimper.

“I’m gonna-”

Adrian knocks his lips to yours again, nose pressing against yours. Harsher than before. A desperate effort to keep quiet. “It’s okay. Me too- me too.” He pushes into you faster, causing you to pull at him. Dipping his head down to your level until it hits you.

You cum gripping a the short buzz at the base of his neck, whining high into his mouth.

Adrian stills, his hips twitching, stomach tensing. His brow dips, spilling into his pants.

Silence. Heavy yet blissed as the ringing in your ears slowly dissipates.

Nothing but your huffs and Adrians cut off whimpers were made as you both slowly un-slotted yourselves from one another. Adrians tremor over your cheeks. Warm and unwilling to let go.

You give his lips one last peck before awkwardly dipping your head through the clothes to peer through the closet slats once more. Adrians gloved hand slips into yours, mirroring you.

“Get your mask.” You shuffle to peak your head slightly out between the doors. Trying to ignore the overstimulated throb your overworked clit gives you. “We can- we can head for the window.”

“What about my pants?” Adrian pouts, pulling on his mask.

Looking back, light gleaming in through the cracked doors. Adrian is illuminated within the suffocating shadows. A spot of darkened wetness blooms over the front of his vigilante suit.

“Call it payback.” You beam, squeezing his hand before stepping out into the abandoned bedroom once more. B-lining it to the window.

“Payback for what?”

“For that dumbass stunt you pulled back there.”

“That’s actually so fucking cruel.” Adrian whines, tucking the fabric of his mask into the neck of his suit, following you close behind.

You shove open the window frame, Adrians hand coming up over your head, keeping it open as you hop out onto the overgrown front lawn.

“Think about it later when we don’t have a Tail okay Vig?” You begin speed walking in the direction you think the Sebring was last parked. You should talk about what just happened. But not now. You don’t really even know yourself.

Adrian steps out, closing the window nonchalantly before jogging up next to you. “Was it at least as good for you as it was for me?” He takes your hand back in his. You should pull away. But you don’t.

“We can talk more in the Sebring okay?” You tug at him to walk faster. Ignoring the little hesitation in Adrians movement.

“… It was okay yeah?”

You look back at him, your grip tightening.

Through his mask all you can make out is his eyes. Worry written across his red tinted brow. His question quiet, dripping with guilt.

A sigh leaves you. Your speed walk coming to a complete halt.

Was it how you imagined your first time doing something like that with Adrian would go? No. In fact you never really thought something like that would happen with him period. But it wasn’t disappointing. A bit frat party esque sure. Nothing you weren’t up for though.

“It was Adrian. I promise.”

His demeanour shifts. Back straightening a little. “Would you say it was an okay seven minutes in heaven?”

You grimace. Dragging him to begin the speed walk once again. “Never say that again.”

Adrian scoffs. “Well, maybe we should do it again.” You both slip away from the abandoned cul-de-sac. Dipping into a forested area where his car was last seen.

“Just so you have a comparison.”

[alphauke]

omg normal people dni actual PERVERTS and DEPRAVED WEIRDOS with GROSS ABNORMAL EROTIC FIXATIONS only

[sageyxbabey]

gravity - mohabbot (Explicit) 4.7k words

Read on AO3 | MDNI

“Jack Abbot is a mature adult. Jack Abbot does not succumb to jealousy like men Samira’s age. Jack Abbot does not react to taunting like men Samira’s age. This is one of the many reasons that Samira likes him, chose him.

The man across from him smirks. “Does her leg still thump like a bunny when she c—”

Jack Abbot’s forehead connect with the man’s nose.

———

AKA: Jack headbutts Samira’s shitty ex-boyfriend and ends up in the ER being treated for a concussion about it… while Samira is on shift. Oops.

[oggeminivenus]

[piscesprincessworld]

i love mohabbot…. Like wow…. Inject that

[abbotsprincess-deactivated20260]

The concept of Samira wearing Jack’s old army t-shirts!!!!!

[etheriumwrites]

when samira goes to jack’s house for the first time, the most unexpected thing is the books.

when she pictured jack abbot’s home it was most often a dark, nearly-habitable cave illuminated by a single bare bulb swinging from a chain, a wooden chair, and a table to hold his police scanner and various medical accoutrements.

so upon entering his house and seeing an ancient oak bookshelf overflowing with dog-eared and tabbed paperbacks she’s at least a little surprised. she supposed she thought jack was the same sort as her, no hobbies outside of their near pathological dedication to medicine.

but she traces her fingers along the spines, ray bradbury, cormac mccarthy, octavia butler, margaret atwood. names she recognizes but has never indulged in. things she should know like so many references embedded in culture but embarrassingly cannot even a conjure a vision of.

when she asks him about it he tells her the quiet hours are the worst. the time when his brain has little else to occupy itself with but a foreboding sense of panic. so he reads, sometimes watches a movie, but most often curls up in his overstuffed armchair and finds a little peace in panic that does not belong to him.

she falls asleep that night with his copy of slaughterhouse five on her chest, her thumb hovering over the neat scrawl of his pen in the margins.

[anextrapart]

but as per my last jack and samira posts what if he's having to go through watching a patient face a limb amputation and she's having to go through watching a daughter face losing her father and they're very much in each other's vicinity while having these hugely emotional experiences. what then.

[angelsinacarpark]

i want attention so here's some mohabbot ddlg fic for u guys

[silvermars]

to have an actor from a (crack) ship that has oh 10 minutes of screen time in one whole season of a show, explicitly say "oh yeah he definitely has a crush on her...he's flirting with her...he admires her" is such a fucking ruuuush shoot that shit into my veins babyy

[classicfilmblr]

The Seven Year Itch (1955) dir. Billy Wilder

[profeciegirl]

[fungusamongusblg2]

Scarification by John Joyce at Scarab Body Arts