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DANIELLE CAMPBELL photographed by Justin Bettman, 2021

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clara had never been more bored in her life than she was at twenty-three years old. her college classes were online and part-time, and a few days a week she worked behind the counter at the arcade, seething with contempt as adolescent boys quibbled with her about prizes and tried to look down her shirt. she'd quit but her parents liked to have almost all of her time accounted for lest she get up to trouble, a vestige from her ill-advised affair with the (married) high school lacrosse coach a couple of years ago and the ensuing local gossip. her high school sweetheart jack had gone off to state college on an athletic scholarship. they held on for a few years, even when they both knew the other was cheating. she was happy to have him on holiday and summer breaks and pretend they both didn't know, at least until he graduated and left town for good six months ago. then, out of nowhere, her strange stepbrother had finally managed to snag himself a girl. a cute one. it hadn't been intentional, clara's third wheeling. maybe at first she was just trying to see what a girl like sam saw in jamie but then the meddling became more compulsive. why should jamie get to have fun when her life was so terribly mundane? at least bothering jamie kept her mildly entertained and really, she didn't particularly care for having him so distracted.

clara had to hand it to him, the party was a good idea. she'd been sufficiently distracted for at least an hour, sweating it out in the jacuzzi as some girl she'd gone to junior high with talked her ear off about her upcoming wedding to some loser mechanic clara was sure had a drug habit that would end the marriage before it even began. when the girl finally wandered off clara realized she hadn't seen jamie, or sam, in a minute and bounded upstairs to his bedroom. it only took a few moments of hovering in the open doorway to get sam out of there, and clara couldn't help the triumphant cackle she let out as she took her place, flopping down on the end of the bed in her indigo-hued bikini.

"what?" clara huffed, propping herself up on one arm, flicking the damp ends of her hair out of her face, "jamie, you left me all alone down there. what if someone had roofied my drink and let me drown in the hot tub? what if people crashed the party and destroyed the house? what if you were just so busy balls-deep in sam that something terrible happened to your dearest, darling, baby stepsister? is chivalry dead? your mom would kill you."

HE HADN'T HAD A GIRLFRIEND since high school, and that break up had been shitty. it took seven more years to get the one he had now - a girl complete with nice boobs (she never wore a bra), tight clothes, and a constantly exposed, bellybutton pierced stomach. she was out of his league, but apparently she had a thing for ' weird boys. ' the minute his stepsister found out, she started to get ...weird. clingy, always hanging around the store when she used to hate being there (his mom and her dad didn't trust her home alone) or asking if she could watch movies (he KNEW she didn't give a shit about) with them. it's like she didn't want him alone with sam - taking every opportunity to fuck up their time together with her problems and neediness.

he thought this party would give them the time they needed. aside from needing to drown out the screaming girls and shitty pop music, they’d be uninterrupted (well… that’s what he thought, anyway). jamie was about to get sam's shirt off when his sister interrupted, standing in the doorway, bikini clad body still wet from the jacuzzi. sam crawled off him, saying she had to go to her uncle's birthday dinner, anyway. jamie watched her squeeze past his sister, leaving him with blue balls.

jamie rubbed his hand roughly down his face then dropped his head on his pillow. " what the fuck do you want ?? "

open to w !! (21 only)

jamie webb. he/him. 25. straight. 6'5. superstore cashier. bassist. pinterest board.

plot: give me a super jealous, spoiled step/half/full sister who might be a lil crazy and lil horny being jealous of her stepbro's new gf !! ...her being the annoying younger sister !! i'll take ur bimbos, 'innocent' girlies, mean girls, etc.

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♡ HANNAH DODD the sunday times style

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Kristine Froseth for Elite Daily magazine

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BARBARA PALVIN for Creed, 2025

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♡ brianne howey on jimmy fallon

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PAUL MESCAL W Magazine

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anticipation licked up skylar’s spine as genevieve cradled her flushed cheeks. she bounced slightly as she hit the mattress, tracking the older woman’s striking face with wide eyed vulnerability. “he won’t even notice i’m gone,” she muttered, the ache between her thighs growing as genevieve painted a vivid picture. as genevieve’s perfect lips suckled at the soft skin of her neck, skylar felt on the edge of bliss, eagerly reaching beneath the hem of her dress to shuck her rapidly dampening panties half way down her thighs. she’d come straight from a brunch with friends, a pathetic attempt to distract herself from those persistent memories. the dress she’d worn was conservative and generic. hem to her knees, blue and white stripes, button-through with an unwrinkled collar. safe and sweet. something she couldn’t wait to be divested of as her skin began to heat. now would have been the time for skylar to consider her future, the fact that her husband conducted business with this woman. the fact that from now on, every time they might see genevieve at an event or a cocktail party, skylar would be faced with the reality of her actions and the humiliation if she were found out. maybe the threat of discovery only spurred her on more because there she was, arching toward genevieve’s body, knowing nothing could stop the inevitable. the other woman had already spoken it into existence.

she was exactly like every other married women she has ever encountered. wasted away in her boring marriage. as if she was a trapped little bird desperate for the day she can finally escape. genevieve was willing to be that person, but they had to make the first step first. when she finally found her voice, and told her exactly what she wanted, the older woman placed her glass down on the bar top before crossing the room towards her. genevieve's hands cupped her face, grinning at her as if she had just won a price. "see? that wasn't so hard." she started pulling her towards the bed before pushing her down on the mattress. "hope you told your husband you will be busy the whole day because i'm not letting you leave until my entire bed is soaking with your juices." her pillow lips pressed along her neck, sucking and leaving her mark. while she quickly worked on getting her undressed.

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skylar trailed after genevieve, heart thumping against her ribs as the door shut behind them. she took the proffered shot of liquor and downed it swiftly, that familiar tendril of shame pulling at the pit of her stomach when the other woman mentioned her husband. was skylar truly so transparent? could everyone tell she was an unhappy wife, unconsciously desperate for something more? she didn’t really care for alcohol, the taste or the effect. she’d never liked the feeling of ceding control to anyone or anything, not before now. but now something in her wanted to let go, give up that tightly wound tension that had been so salient in her life. “i want you to make me do what i did last time,” skylar ventured, gathering up the courage to be more explicit, “i don’t care if it's your fist or a toy, i just want you to make me squirt again. please. i'll be good for you.” heat rose high in her cheeks, desire outweighing any uncertainty.

this wasn't the first time this has happened. genevieve would give these women the best fuck of their life, then the feeling of shame would creep in afterwards. they would blame her for seducing them when in reality all she had to do was play with their cunts and treat them how they really want to be treated in bed, and they were willing participants. "oh, you think so?" she raised a brow, teasing her for a moment before eventually pushing her door wider as she took a step to the side. giving her the room to finally walk into her home. "let me guess... your husband is away and you can't seem to scratch that itch in between your legs?" a mocking laugh escaped her lips as she closed the door and walked past her, guiding her into her 'play' room. genevieve knew exactly what she was her for, why pretend with the small talk over tea? "now tell me exactly what you want me to do to you." she entered the room, turning on the lights before making her way to the bar area. "if you're here to bitch about your husband, i suggest hiring a therapist. but if you're here for me to make that pussy gaping wide again, well..." she paused, letting a sinister grin form along her lips as she poured them both a shot of tequila. handing a glass over to her to take.

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skylar had tried to put it out of her mind, she'd tried to carry on as if she hadn't cheated on her husband with his business partner. when she’d last left the older woman, skylar had been furious, shouting blame and obscenities as she fled back to her marital home without her dignity, or frankly, her underwear. she’d been confused, her body had done things it had never had before. skylar had jumped in the shower immediately, desperate to scrub the smell of sex and perfume from her body lest her husband suspect her. she doubted he’d notice, though. skylar was an afterthought, a young, well-educated trophy wife who wouldn’t be of much use to him until she agreed to have children. but he’d left town for some ridiculous boat trip with his old college buddies and skylar couldn’t keep her desire at bay. genevieve, that woman, she’d broken open something in her that couldn’t be undone. skylar hadn’t had an orgasm since that night, despite all her best efforts. nothing was holding a candle to the freedom and depravity she’d experienced with genevieve. she wasn’t sure what she was going to say when she saw her again, but she couldn’t stop herself from showing up on her doorstep. 

for a moment, skylar was speechless, cowed by genevieve’s vulgar gloating, arousal flooding her body at the sight of her. her desire told her to beg and plead for her pleasure, but shame got her tongue. “i…” skylar ventured uneasily, “i may have been a little hasty last time. and maybe a bit harsh.”

♡ potential connections: step-daughter, niece, brother or son's wife/gf, neighbour, business partner's wife, daughter's friend ♡ alt. muse: catherine, diana

she was half surprised to see her at her doorsteps, but she knew deep down she would be seeing her sooner or later. once all that internal shame passed, she would have been craving for that night to happen again, and to experience squirting like a fountain. the smirk on her plump lips grew as she leaned against her door frame. "you here for another fisting again?" she cocked her head to the side, eyeing her body as if she was nothing but holes to fuck. "or perhaps its my monster dildo's you're after?" she was being a bitch by teasing her but after hearing her accuse her of seducing her and how 'this will never happen again', she figured she could gloat a little.

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fiiingertrap​:

open starter | jonas atlman open to: w 

“No one is going to see us. It’s deserted out here.” Jonas had picked this trail for a reason - seclusion could be a blessing in times like these. They’d been at his family’s home all week for the holidays, but there was no privacy. The middle of the woods could give them that. Off the beaten path, he’d found a large tree for them to hide behind. Hands found her hips, pressing her back against it, leaning down to plant kisses along her throat. “C’mon admit it, you’ve missed it being just us.” 

“Of course I’ve missed it,” Mabel laughed, feeling her hair catch against the bark of the tree as she tilted her head, welcoming his mouth against her neck, “But I was thinking maybe a locked bedroom would do. It’s freezing out here.” And it was but the closer he pressed into her the warmer she felt and any further protests died on her tongue. She’d found herself feeling particularly affectionate as the week wore on and she slowly began to fit into the dynamic of his family. Her own had splintered and scattered so long ago that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to have one and in turn she couldn’t get enough of Jonas. He was her family now. “Thank you for bringing me here...home for the holidays, I mean.” She murmured, a gentle hand winding into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

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sarah gadon in black bear 

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mcsks-on​:

        the chemicals in his brain take a moment to process the information and the moment he recognizes iris his smile faulters. never did he imagine this woman being back in this small town for something only he could give her. while something in his heart sparked warmth from seeing her again, he instantly remembers their last conversation and her abrupt exit. “iris.” his tone is more condescending and bitter. knowing how hurt and angry he’d been since she’d left, curtis is quick to shake his head and shift to a glare. “you literally have some nerve, iris.” 

it’s clear plenty has changed for iris. she was dressed in clean and expensive clothing (presumably), and riding a car nicer than he could afford. he was still living through the motions, day by day taking care of their home on their land. sure, he did start his own business more recently, but that seemed insignificant in comparison to, probably, iris’s success. “it’s been… what, almost a decade? not even a ‘hi curtis. it’s good to see you again’.”

iris had always wanted to leave their sleepy little town, determined to experience something new and different. but she’d married him in spite of her ambitions and stayed put for as long as she could only to find that love couldn’t squash the poison of regret. when she left she made it clear that she didn’t intend to return and then went out and did everything she thought she would. she got herself a career at a high end art gallery in new york and she’s built a new life, with someone else. “good to see you? if you had signed the damn papers the first three times i sent them then maybe you’d get a good to see you,” iris scoffs, yanking the document out of her bag, “you’ve only avoided finishing this to punish me, curtis, admit it.” she’s tired of being punished for wanting something more and tired of her youthful decisions lingering like ghosts. it was all the for the best, she’s told herself time and time again. they’d have killed each other if she stayed. “the joke is over, okay? i need you to sign em’.”

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iris never thought she’d actually have to track him down but her life was changing and a fifteen year old marriage was baggage she couldn’t afford to tow around anymore. he looks older, different, except for the boyish smile though now she’s certain that she’s impervious to its charms. in it flashes a million faded memories and a million bad choices to boot. “i’m good on directions but how about a divorce?” she counters, deciding it’s best to rip off the bandage, “any idea where a lady could find one of those?” iris stares him down, feeling a tiny thrill that he doesn’t seem to recognize her. that young girl she used to be, naive and furious at the world, has been wholly replaced by a more successful and well-adjusted woman. 

open: w / nb, 35-40. based on the film sweet home alabama.

     after wiping the grease off his hands, the result of two hours of car repairs, curtis makes way to the front lawn. a fancy vehicle and a woman overly dressed for the setting catching his attention. as his dog barks, an unreliable alarm by the way, curtis whistles to have him sit. unable to recogize his wife, curtis leans against his porch railing, presenting a polite and charming smile.. just in case he was in trouble for any reason. “hey, how can i help you? need directions or something?”

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filthdesire​:

phoebe was a jealous wife. that was just her nature and she wasn’t ashamed of it one bit. when her husband’s wandering eyes got a little too much for her to bare, she decided to put her anger towards someone and sadly, that had been mabel. she knew she could very well punish her husband. after all, it wasn’t her neighbour’s fault but all that anger in her wasn’t letting her think correctly. besides, this was a more fun way to let out some pent up steam. “oh we do love to hear you beg.. am i right, friends?” she cackled as she tugged harder on her dark locks. phoebe’s fingers pressed on the low setting of the dildo, slowing it down as she didn’t want the girl to reach her next orgasm. at least not yet. “but i think you can. i think you can take a lot more because all good sluts can.” she lowered her head so it was right against her ear, only she can hear. everything else has been shared with the group surrounding them, but she wanted her next words to only be heard just by her. “when i’m done with you, you’re gonna crave only this. being fucked like a worthless little cum slut. i will ruin any other person for you. this, me, is all you will crave.” she gave an open, wet kiss on her neck before taking the vibrating wand under the table and placing it on her clit.

mabel gasped as the toy suddenly slowed its pace and elegant, manicured fingers exquisitely pulled at the roots of her soft waves. she’d never experienced so many sensations at once. phoebe’s hand in her hair, a dildo sliding torturously in and out of her soaked core, the restraints holding her arms and legs in place, all compounded by the din of the party and the scent of her own arousal. phoebe was a puppet master and mabel was beginning to realize how easily she’d bend to the other woman’s will. when she came close, murmuring filthy promises in her ear, mabel was enveloped by the cloud of her intoxicating perfume. to her horror she found her body responding, evidence of phoebe’s prophecy of ruin on the horizon. soft lips latched to her neck just as the cruel vibrations of a wand pressed to her clit and she let out a wanton moan, forgetting entirely for one brief moment that she had an audience. blood rushed to her face, pleasure and shame coiling within as phoebe’s ministrations began to wind her up once more, lips parting in awe, her thighs beginning to quiver. “oh my god...” she gasped hoarsely as desperate blue eyes flickered from phoebe to the partygoers, unable to look away from the reactions to her own undoing.

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rcsegld​:

“of course i did.” archie insisted almost immediately, though doubt was surely and steadily seeping into his thoughts now. “i mean, i think i did.” he was assuming because he always did, but he didn’t have a specific memory of doing so, because it was something he tended to do automatically, he didn’t really think about it, but they had been drinking and it was the middle of the night and now he was wondering if there was a possibility that he had just forgotten in the moment. “fuck, i don’t know.” her anger was justified, his words had been insensitive and poorly chosen. “i’m not sleeping with other people – sorry, that was–” he shook his head, searching for the words, still trying to get his head around the situation he now found himself in, “–out of order. i shouldn’t have said that.” eyes widened when she told him that she wanted to keep it. he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, maybe some confusion on her part about how they should proceed, but her mind seemed made up. “oh.” was all he could think to say, and then, “i’m not really sure how i feel.” he told her honestly. “but don’t apologise, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

she sat down on the sofa, suddenly light headed as all the confessions and pseudo-accusations echoed in her ears. telling him had seemed like the hard part but of course, that was only the beginning. “i don’t know how i feel either,” mabel admitted, her heart still beating fast against her ribs, “i always thought if this came up and it wasn’t planned i’d just take care of it. i mean, i wasn’t dreaming of being a mother it’s just something i thought would happen eventually when i was older and married or something. and it’s not like you and i are even together, right?” god, she didn’t know what they were. friends? seeing each other? acquaintances with benefits? “but then i guess i just changed my mind. my choice doesn’t have to be your choice, archie and i really mean that. i don’t want to bring a child in a situation full of resentment.” it’d be naive to pretend everything was that simple but pressuring him to be a parent when it might not be what he wanted could only lead to misery for all involved. “there’s plenty of time for you to consider your own wants and needs and i think as long as we’re honest with each other then everything will be just fine.”