salacious!

anonymous asked:

I 9 w/ Jason bc what a man 🤤

{9 - Taking nudes together} [NSFW]

“Jason, I swear if these get out…”

He grins salaciously, kneeling over you as he readies his phone.

“Don’t worry, babe,” he coos, leaning down to kiss you. “These are for my eyes and my eyes only.”

He kisses you one more time, soundly, and he drops to press his body against you completely, easing your nerves as he ruts against you, teasing you.

“It’ll be fun,” he grins, nuzzling into your neck as you wrap your arms under his shoulders, pulling him closer. “We’ll start slow, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, tilting your face towards his. “Just keep kissing me, Jay.”

He grins, and he kisses you one more time before he sits back and pulls his phone out, aiming it so it captures the majority of your torso, your parted lips barely in the frame. He settles his big hand right over your ribs, and you shiver as his thumb brushes over your nipple teasingly.

“Say cheese, babe…”

SCP-3000 x Dr Scranton (SCP-3001). The moment I saw it on Salacious Skip, it became my new favourite crack pairing.

On second thoughts, maybe this ship isn’t too implausible. I mean, both skips are about existentialist horror and insanity, and came 1st and 2nd in the contest respectively. Also, Scranton’s wife’s name is Anna, which is similar to Anantashesha. Holy 343, it’s a match made in red reality!

Skippers, help this ship take off.
123 Ideas for Character Flaws
  1. Absent-minded - Preoccupied to the extent of being unaware of one’s immediate surroundings. Abstracted, daydreaming, inattentive, oblivious, forgetful.
  2. Abusive - Characterized by improper infliction of physical or psychological maltreatment towards another.
  3. Addict - One who is addicted to a compulsive activity. Examples: gambling, drugs, sex.
  4. Aimless - Devoid of direction or purpose.
  5. Alcoholic - A person who drinks alcoholic substances habitually and to excess.
  6. Anxious - Full of mental distress or uneasiness because of fear of danger or misfortune; greatly worried; solicitous.
  7. Arrogant - Having or displaying a sense of overbearing self-worth or self-importance. Inclined to social exclusiveness and who rebuff the advances of people considered inferior. Snobbish.
  8. Audacious - Recklessly bold in defiance of convention, propriety, law, or the like; insolent; braze, disobedient.
  9. Bad Habit - A revolting personal habit. Examples: picks nose, spits tobacco, drools, bad body odour.
  10. Bigmouth - A loud-mouthed or gossipy person.
  11. Bigot - One who is strongly partial to one’s own group, religion, race, or politics and is intolerant of those who differ.
  12. Blunt - Characterized by directness in manner or speech; without subtlety or evasion. Frank, callous, insensitive, brusque.
  13. Bold - In a bad sense, too forward; taking undue liberties; over assuming or confident; lacking proper modesty or restraint; rude; impudent. Abrupt, brazen, cheeky, brassy, audacious.
  14. Callous - They are hardened to emotions, rarely showing any form of it in expression. Unfeeling. Cold.
  15. Childish - Marked by or indicating a lack of maturity; puerile.
  16. Complex - An exaggerated or obsessive concern or fear. (List specific complex.)
  17. Cruel - Mean to anyone or anything, without care or regard to consequences and feelings.
  18. Cursed - A person who has befallen a prayer for evil or misfortune, placed under a spell, or borne into an evil circumstance, and suffers for it. Damned.
  19. Dependent - Unable to exist, sustain oneself, or act appropriately or normally without the assistance or direction of another.
  20. Deranged - Mentally decayed. Insane. Crazy. Mad. Psychotic.
  21. Dishonest – Given to or using fraud, cheating; deceitful, deceptive, crooked, underhanded.
  22. Disloyal - Lacking loyalty. Unfaithful, perfidious, traitorous, treasonable
  23. Disorder - An ailment that affects the function of mind or body. (List the disorders name if they have one.) See the Mental Disorder List.
  24. Disturbed - Showing some or a few signs or symptoms of mental or emotional illness. Confused, disordered, neurotic, troubled.
  25. Dubious - Fraught with uncertainty or doubt. Undecided, doubtful, unsure.
  26. Dyslexic - Affected by dyslexia, a learning disorder marked by impairment of the ability to recognize and comprehend written words.
  27. Egotistical - Characteristic of those having an inflated idea of their own importance. Boastful, pompous.
  28. Envious - Showing extreme cupidity; painfully desirous of another’s advantages; covetous, jealous.
  29. Erratic - Deviating from the customary course in conduct or opinion; eccentric: erratic behaviour. Eccentric, bizarre, outlandish, strange.
  30. Fanatical - Fanatic outlook or behaviour especially as exhibited by excessive enthusiasm, unreasoning zeal, or wild and extravagant notions on some subject.
  31. Fickle – Erratic, changeable, unstable - especially with regard to affections or attachments; capricious.
  32. Fierce - Marked by extreme intensity of emotions or convictions; inclined to react violently; fervid.
  33. Finicky - Excessively particular or fastidious; difficult to please; fussy. Too much concerned with detail. Meticulous, fastidious, choosy, critical, picky, prissy, pernickety.
  34. Fixated - In psychoanalytic theory, a strong attachment to a person or thing, especially such an attachment formed in childhood or infancy and manifested in immature or neurotic behaviour that persists throughout life. Fetish, quirk, obsession, infatuation.
  35. Flirt -To make playfully romantic or sexual overtures; behaviour intended to arouse sexual interest. Minx. Tease.
  36. Gluttonous - Given to excess in consumption of especially food or drink. Voracious, ravenous, wolfish, piggish, insatiable.
  37. Gruff - Brusque or stern in manner or appearance. Crusty, rough, surly.
  38. Gullible - Will believe any information given, regardless of how valid or truthful it is, easily deceived or duped.
  39. Hard - A person who is difficult to deal with, manage, control, overcome, or understand. Hard emotions, hard hearted.
  40. Hedonistic - Pursuit of or devotion to pleasure, especially to the pleasures of the senses.
  41. Hoity-toity- Given to flights of fancy; capricious; frivolous. Prone to giddy behaviour, flighty.
  42. Humourless - The inability to find humour in things, and most certainly in themselves.
  43. Hypocritical - One who is always contradicting their own beliefs, actions or sayings. A person who professes beliefs and opinions for others that he does not hold. Being a hypocrite.
  44. Idealist - One whose conduct is influenced by ideals that often conflict with practical considerations. One who is unrealistic and impractical, guided more by ideals than by practical considerations.
  45. Idiotic - Marked by a lack of intelligence or care; foolish or careless.
  46. Ignorant - Lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact. Showing or arising from a lack of education or knowledge.
  47. Illiterate - Unable to read and write.
  48. Immature - Emotionally undeveloped; juvenile; childish.
  49. Impatient - Unable to wait patiently or tolerate delay; restless. Unable to endure irritation or opposition; intolerant.
  50. Impious - Lacking piety and reverence for a god/gods and their followers.
  51. Impish - Naughtily or annoyingly playful.
  52. Incompetent - Unable to execute tasks, no matter how the size or difficulty.
  53. Indecisive - Characterized by lack of decision and firmness, especially under pressure.
  54. Indifferent - The trait of lacking enthusiasm for or interest in things generally, remaining calm and seeming not to care; a casual lack of concern. Having or showing little or no interest in anything; languid; spiritless.
  55. Infamy - Having an extremely bad reputation, public reproach, or strong condemnation as the result of a shameful, criminal, or outrageous act that affects how others view them.
  56. Intolerant - Unwilling to tolerate difference of opinion and narrow-minded about cherished opinions.
  57. Judgemental - Inclined to make and form judgements, especially moral or personal ones, based on one’s own opinions or impressions towards others/practices/groups/religions based on appearance, reputation, occupation, etc.
  58. Klutz - Clumsy. Blunderer.
  59. Lazy - Resistant to work or exertion; disposed to idleness.
  60. Lewd - Inclined to, characterized by, or inciting to lust or lechery; lascivious. Obscene or indecent, as language or songs; salacious.
  61. Liar - Compulsively and purposefully tells false truths more often than not. A person who has lied or who lies repeatedly.
  62. Lustful - Driven by lust; preoccupied with or exhibiting lustful desires.
  63. Masochist - The deriving of sexual gratification, or the tendency to derive sexual gratification, from being physically or emotionally abused. A willingness or tendency to subject oneself to unpleasant or trying experiences.
  64. Meddlesome - Intrusive in a meddling or offensive manner, given to meddling; interfering.
  65. Meek - Evidencing little spirit or courage; overly submissive or compliant; humble in spirit or manner; suggesting retiring mildness or even cowed submissiveness.
  66. Megalomaniac - A psycho pathological condition characterized by delusional fantasies of wealth, power, or omnipotence.
  67. Naïve - Lacking worldly experience and understanding, simple and guileless; showing or characterized by a lack of sophistication and critical judgement.
  68. Nervous - Easily agitated or distressed; high-strung or jumpy.
  69. Non-violent - Abstaining from the use of violence.
  70. Nosey - Given to prying into the affairs of others; snoopy. Offensively curious or inquisitive.
  71. Obsessive - An unhealthy and compulsive preoccupation with something or someone.
  72. Oppressor - A person of authority who subjects others to undue pressures, to keep down by severe and unjust use of force or authority.
  73. Overambitious - Having a strong excessive desire for success or achievement.
  74. Overconfident - Excessively confident; presumptuous.
  75. Overemotional - Excessively or abnormally emotional. Sensitive about themselves and others, more so than the average person.
  76. Overprotective - To protect too much; coddle.
  77. Overzealous - Marked by excessive enthusiasm for and intense devotion to a cause or idea.
  78. Pacifist - Opposition to war or violence as a means of resolving disputes. (Can double as a merit in certain cases)
  79. Paranoid - Exhibiting or characterized by extreme and irrational fear or distrust of others.
  80. Peevish - Expressing fretfulness and discontent, or unjustifiable dissatisfaction. Cantankerous, cross, ill-tempered, testy, captious, discontented, crotchety, cranky, ornery.
  81. Perfectionist - A propensity for being displeased with anything that is not perfect or does not meet extremely high standards.
  82. Pessimist - A tendency to stress the negative or unfavourable or to take the gloomiest possible view.
  83. Pest - One that pesters or annoys, with or without realizing it. Nuisance. Annoying. Nag.
  84. Phobic – They have a severe form of fear when it comes to this one thing. Examples: Dark, Spiders, Cats
  85. Practical - Level-headed, efficient, and unspeculative. No-nonsense.
  86. Predictable - Easily seen through and assessable, where almost anyone can predict reactions and actions of said person by having met or known them even for a short time.
  87. Proud - Filled with or showing excessive self-esteem and will often shirk help from others for the sake of pride.
  88. Rebellious - Defying or resisting some established authority, government, or tradition; insubordinate; inclined to rebel.
  89. Reckless - Heedless. Headstrong. Foolhardy. Unthinking boldness, wild carelessness and disregard for consequences.
  90. Remorseless - Without remorse; merciless; pitiless; relentless.
  91. Rigorous - Rigidly accurate; allowing no deviation from a standard; demanding strict attention to rules and procedures.
  92. Sadist - The deriving of sexual gratification or the tendency to derive sexual gratification from inflicting pain or emotional abuse on others. Deriving of pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from cruelty.
  93. Sadomasochist - Both sadist and masochist combined.
  94. Sarcastic - A subtle form of mockery in which an intended meaning is conveyed obliquely.
  95. Sceptic - One who instinctively or habitually doubts, questions, or disagrees with assertions or generally accepted conclusions.
  96. Seducer - To lead others astray, as from duty, rectitude, or the like; corrupt. To attempt to lead or draw someone away, as from principles, faith, or allegiance.
  97. Selfish - Concerned chiefly or only with oneself.
  98. Self-Martyr - One who purposely makes a great show of suffering in order to arouse sympathy from others, as a form of manipulation, and always for a selfish cause or reason.
  99. Self-righteous - Piously sure of one’s own righteousness; moralistic. Exhibiting pious self-assurance. Holier-than-thou, sanctimonious.
  100. Senile - Showing a decline or deterioration of physical strength or mental functioning, esp. short-term memory and alertness, as a result of old age or disease.
  101. Shallow - Lacking depth of intellect or knowledge; concerned only with what is obvious.
  102. Smart Ass - Thinks they know it all, and in some ways they may, but they can be greatly annoying and difficult to deal with at times, especially in arguments.
  103. Soft-hearted - Having softness or tenderness of heart that can lead them into trouble; susceptible of pity or other kindly affection. They cannot resist helping someone they see in trouble, suffering or in need, and often don’t think of the repercussions or situation before doing so.
  104. Solemn - Deeply earnest, serious, and sober.
  105. Spineless - Lacking courage. Cowardly, wimp, lily-livered, gutless.
  106. Spiteful - Showing malicious ill will and a desire to hurt; motivated by spite; vindictive person who will look for occasions for resentment. Vengeful.
  107. Spoiled - Treated with excessive indulgence and pampering from earliest childhood, and has no notion of hard work, self-care or money management; coddled, pampered. Having the character or disposition harmed by pampering or over-solicitous attention.
  108. Squeamish - Excessively fastidious and easily disgusted.
  109. Stubborn - Unreasonably, often perversely unyielding; bull-headed. Firmly resolved or determined; resolute.
  110. Superstitious - An irrational belief arising from ignorance or fear from an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome.
  111. Tactless - Lacking or showing a lack of what is fitting and considerate in dealing with others.
  112. Temperamental - Moody, irritable, or sensitive. Excitable, volatile, emotional.
  113. Theatrical - Having a flair for over dramatizing situations, doing things in a ‘big way’ and love to be ‘centre stage’.
  114. Timid -Tends to be shy and/or quiet, shrinking away from offering opinions or from strangers and newcomers, fearing confrontations and violence.
  115. Tongue-tied - Speechless or confused in expression, as from shyness, embarrassment, or astonishment.
  116. Troublemaker - Someone who deliberately stirs up trouble, intentionally or unintentionally.
  117. Unlucky - Marked by or causing misfortune; ill-fated. Destined for misfortune; doomed.
  118. Unpredictable - Difficult to foretell or foresee, their actions are so chaotic it’s impossible to know what they are going to do next.
  119. Untrustworthy - Not worthy of trust or belief. Backstabber.
  120. Vain - Holding or characterized by an unduly high opinion of their physical appearance. Lovers of themselves. Conceited, egotistic, narcissistic.
  121. Weak-willed - Lacking willpower, strength of will to carry out one’s decisions, wishes, or plans. Easily swayed.
  122. Withdrawn - Not friendly or Sociable. Aloof.
  123. Zealous - A fanatic.
Do You Feel It, Sugar?

Genre | Exhibitionism / Dirty Talk.

Pairing | Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Words | 9,123 words.

Conspectus | There is a ludic something about the eeriness of a scarcely inhabited train station on the cusp of midnight, where it invites dangerous intent, a yearning to break the rules of propriety. Such a parlous desire is made all the more worse when Jeon Jeongguk has his mouth at your ear and his hands where they most certainly should not be.

Warnings | Graphic swearing. Explicit sexual content. Demeaning names.

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sourcatsmiles  asked:

"You love me, right?" For Ladynoir

It was not the way he expected it to go down. Which, honestly, was rather impressive because in the past two years of their partnership Chat Noir must have plotted out at least 50 different possible scenarios in which he finally heard the coveted words. 

They had been joking around, legs swinging off the edge of of the parapet and laughing, enjoying the warm breeze. 

“Come on, you can’t tell me that your birthday is this week and not let me get you a present,” Chat whined, “what sort of partner would I be.” 

“The last thing I need for my birthday is a dead rat on my doorstep,” Ladybug teased as she once again failed to do a Jacob’s ladder with her Yo-yo. She scowled down at her weapon and Chat had to bite back a laugh. There was something incredibly endearing about the fact that for all the truly amazing things she had done with the magical item, she couldn’t seem to get the hang of a simple trick. 

“Ah, but you know that I won’t be giving you that, because I don’t know where your doorway is,” Chat grinned, “so your argument against my giving you a gift is invalid.” 

She rolled her eyes, but he could see her fighting back a smile. 

“Come on,” he whispered, dropping his chin onto her shoulder, “I’ll get you anything you want.” 

“Anything?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him and causing their noses to brush together. 

“Cross my heart and swear not to die, because I already promised you I wouldn’t after what happened last month.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twisting into the disapproving pout that had become one of his favorite expressions. Not that he had a lack of those where she was concerned. Still, this particular look of fond annoyance was easily in the top 20. 

“Please?” he cajoled, stretching out the vowels like a hopeful child asking for a new toy. 

She looked away and Chat smiled. If she couldn’t meet his eyes it meant she was caving. 

“If Mayor Bourgeois is allowed to give you a statue, the least I should be allowed to do is get you a birthday present,” he whispered, trying not to fist pump as he saw her bite her lower lip. Victory was almost assured at this point. “Please?” he said again. 

“Anything?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Anything,” he assured her in the same quiet voice while internally he screamed in triumph. In fact he would probably be annoying Plagg later with his obligatory victory dance. 

Ladybug said nothing, continuing to stare out into the night, but Chat had learned patience was the key to these sorts of moods, so he simply waited, his head continuing to lull against her shoulder. 

“Chat?”

“Yes My Lady?”

“You love me right?” 

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew she didn’t mean it the way he wanted her to. It was a friendly statement, a joking lead-in to a request that usually meant she was insecure about something. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but he still couldn’t help but be affected by the words. 

“Of course, to the end of my nine lives and beyond,” he said, his tone light despite the rapid pounding of his heart. 

“And you won’t make fun of me?” she said, with just enough of a tremor in her voice to belie her playful smile. 

“Never. Cat’s honor.” 

She took a deep breath and reached her hand up to pull at the collar of her suit. 

“What are you doing?” Chat squawked his face turning beet red as her fingers slide beneath the fabric and down towards her collar bone. 

She gave him a bemused smirk as she pulled out a carefully folded note, much to Chat’s simultaneous relief and dismay. 

“Never figured you for a prude,” she said tapping him on the nose with the paper. 

“What is so important that you felt the need to carry it around under your suit?” he grumbled, then instantly regretted his outburst when her shoulders hunched slightly. “Is it a picture of me? Admit it you pull it out to stare at it when I am not around.” He gave her his most salacious smirk and she gave him a playful shove, the momentary flash of doubt replaced with amusement. He mentally high fived himself on the nice save. Another thing to brag to Plagg about when they got home. 

“No. It’s a letter.” 

“I assume you are either going to elaborate, or you have decided to pursue a lifelong dream of becoming the world’s greatest calligrapher.” 

“What?”

“Never mind, you never did appreciate my sense of humor.” 

“It’s a letter for my crush.” 

His heart sank. 

“It’s stupid,” she said hurriedly, “it’s not even signed. I don’t know what is wrong with me that I can’t even bring myself to give him an anonymous love letter. I stupidly thought that maybe I would get lucky and could run in to him as Ladybug and maybe then I could…” she trailed off with a miserable laugh that broke his heart far worse than her infatuation with someone else. 

“My Lady-” 

“It’s horrible,” she cried, scooting back just enough so that she could look at him, “seriously, you have no idea how pathetic I have been.” 

“Come on it can’t be that bad.”

“For months I couldn’t even speak a complete sentence in front of him,” she wailed, “much less tell him how I feel!” 

“That’s totally normal.” 

“Oh, it get’s better. Because I wasn’t just content to make a fool of myself. No then I compensated by getting worse! My room is plastered with pictures of him. I have one framed on my nightstand!” 

“You are hardly the first person alive to go overboard about a crush,” Chat said thinking of his own hoard of fangirls that had only increased as he edged closer to adulthood.” 

“I wrote down his schedule on my calendar. In detail! Every time I learned something new, up it would go in big swirly cursive with little hearts and everything.” 

“OK, that’s admittedly a little weirder,” Chat winced, although he was somewhat amused at the image of her dotting little hearts all over the place, “still it could be-” 

“I stole his phone!”

“OK yeah, you’re crazy.”

“I told you. Instead of just confessing to him like a normal person I turned into,” she gestured helplessly at herself, “this.” 

“But at least you admit it,” he said kindly. “and if need be I can get you the name of an excellent therapist.” 

She gave him a weak smile, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug. 

“I thought if I could just give him this letter, even if he didn’t know it was from me, then I could… I donnow, not move on exactly but, get better, maybe?” 

She fiddled with the piece of paper in her hand and somehow, seeing her like this- relaxed and vulnerable, and just a little bit insane- made him love her even more. 

Maybe they would never amount to anything. Maybe she would end up with this mystery crush, or the next one. But in that moment Chat knew that he would never regret loving this girl. He would be happy to stay by her side in whatever way she needed him. That would be enough. 

“Do you want me to give it to him for you?” he asked, any regret he might have felt vanishing at the hopeful look that sprang to her eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Of course Bugaboo. Although, if this turns into some sort of wacky rom-com where he thinks that I am the secret admirer and starts chasing after my dazzling good looks and unparalleled charm, you are not allowed to make it my fault.” 

“Ok,” she laughed, leaning her head back against his shoulder with a sigh that he could swear reverberated in his very soul. 

“So who am I delivering this to anyways?” he asked a little shakily carefully plucking the letter from her and slipping into into the pocket of his suit. “Who is this dashing rogue who has turned you into a literal lovesick schoolgirl?” 

“Adrien Agreste,” she confessed with a blush. “I’m in love with Adrien Agreste.” 

It was definitely not how he had expected things to go down. Never in a million years would he have dreamed up this scenario when he finally heard the coveted words- his name on her tongue, her voice saying that she loved him, HIM, of all people. 

It was not what he expected- but damn if it still wasn’t the greatest moment in his life. 



Look who’s back to her 4 word prompts! On to the next one! (Not taking any new ones just finishing up the ones I have.

2

Thank you for your lovely comments, darlings!!! I hope you like what I did with your prompts!! Enjoy!!! <3

Warning: Hot make-outs, smutty mentions, cute Bughead galore and just me fawning over the bae that is Cole Sprouse. 


“We have to go.” Kiss

“Hmm, in a second.” Kiss

“One day – kiss – we’ll get caught – kiss – and they’ll definitely expel us.” Hard Kiss.

“Oh, I’d love to see you, Betty Cooper – kiss – getting expelled over a steamy make out.” Bite.

Betty just let a breathless laugh, alternating the angle of her head and dropped her arms to his shoulders, crossing them by the wrists behind his head. Jughead’s smile grew more in delight against her lips and he dove in again, pecking her lips hard. They were in one of the dusty storage rooms of their high school, the smallest one and the one with no windows, exploring this new-found feeling of being in love and being a couple, mist old broken chairs and random school supplies. Betty was perched up on an unused desk that lay against the wall, dressed for her cheerleading practice in her usual white and yellow t-shirt and dark blue shorts, while her boyfriend was standing deliciously between her gorgeous legs, school bag, denim jacket and beanie abandoned somewhere on the floor, kissing her like there was no tomorrow for God knows how long now.

That was basically they daily routine. Ever since the two of them overcame their irrational fears of rejection and possible heartbreak and talked with each other about that kiss that held all of Jughead’s suppressed emotions all those years, they couldn’t overlook their mutual feeling of desiring to be together. Three weeks had passed since that day and, despite of the new challenges they were faced with every day, regarding their unconventional families and the amorality that seemed to emerge every once in a while of the core of their small town, the two teens were basking in the afterglow of their romance with affectionate gestures and heated make outs. The only cloud shading their Romeo and Juliet fairytale was that everything was being done in shadows, like a good, concealed secret.

They wanted to tell people; and they would do it. They weren’t afraid or ashamed, both emotions equally unfair to the wonderful union that it was them. They just wanted to do it in their own terms, without excited friends or controlling parents getting in their way, without having to explain themselves or put labels and boundaries in something that came and kept growing natural to them. So, janitor’s closets and storage rooms it was.

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Heaven is Hotter Than Hell

Characters: CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1980

A/N: Jealous!Cas with a hint of Dom!Cas for extra spice. Public sex. Adult/NSFW/smut warning!!! A little fluffy, because I don’t know how to write Castiel without the fluff. I am not ashamed of this.

Effervescent laughter rose above all else - the din of bar conversation, the clinking of glass, the sloshing of alcohol, and the classic rock humming on repeat from the jukebox. It needled at the patient reserve of the angel isolated in a dimly lit corner. Castiel’s steel-blue eyes smoldered - fixed on the raven-haired man in a well-fitted suit situated at the bar - lids burdened with disdain.

Bouncing hair flirtatiously tossed, teasingly dragging your lower lip through biting teeth, fingers playing with the lapel of the man’s coat, you exuded virility.

The delighted pitch of your giggle pierced the seraph more painfully than any angel blade could - fuel to the flame, his fiery gaze flared, the wrath directed towards this stranger barely contained in tightly wound muscles primed to snap. Cas observed you dance this dance before – the choreography a festering lesion seared into his memory. Next, you would excuse yourself on some pretext to reapply needless makeup and straighten already perfectly mussed hair. Upon returning, you would whisper something meant only for the stranger’s ears, yet also perceived by angelic ones - an invitation to call it a night and join you in your motel room. The rare evening such as this one, witnessing you escape the rigors of the hunter life into a stranger’s arms, was nearly overwhelming. The angel seethed with envy, longing for those words to be uttered from your honeyed lips - spoken only for him. But you didn’t look at him that way, and never laughed so freely when he spoke.

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Sterek AU: Forever Be My Valentine

The fourteenth of February marks the day Stiles’ vocabulary vanished leaving just a single word to be uttered in response to Derek’s proposal:

                                                    Y E S!

However, the shocked filter doesn’t last long as a veritable torrent of, “Derek”, “I love you”, and praises in both English and Polish tumble from his lips. 

“I can’t believe you did all this. And here I thought the only romantic bone in your body was mine.” Stiles’ salacious eyebrow waggling falters slightly at a firm, yet loving, swat to the ass by his chuckling fiancé.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Derek smirks, nosing his way down his jawline to his favorite spot on his neck just below his ear, eliciting a delicious shiver.

“Oh my god, that was terrible,” Stiles chokes on laugh. “Thank god you didn’t lead with that or I would have reconsidered my answer.”

Stiles let out a yelp as Derek nips at a tender spot.

“Lie.”

Stiles tilted his head giving him more room to explore. 

“Mmm. Yup. Truth is you had me at ‘This is private property.’ There were many very public things I wanted to do to said property.”

Derek eyes flash as he emits a playful growl as his hands slide down to grasp his ass and quickly hoist him up. Stiles’ legs automatically wrap around his hips as a surprised moan barely has time to escape; lips becoming entangled with his own. Blunt teeth gently nibble Stiles’ bottom lip, tongue soothing over the indentations, silently pleading for entrance; a satisfied rumble answers when it’s granted. Derek pulls back just enough to gaze into honeyed eyes filled with love and eternal mischief, slowly engulfed by blown pupils. His right hand cups his jaw, thumb gently traveling across the path of moles to plump, reddened lips.

“Feel like doing some trespassing tonight?”

Stiles tosses his head back, whole body shaking with laughter. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Derek grins brightly at that thought “Not having any second thoughts, are you?”

Stiles’ arms tighten around Derek’s neck, pulling him into passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless.

“Not on your life. I love you so much, Der.”

“Love you too, Stiles.”

The night was filled with saccharine whispers, breathless moans, praises to deities that may not exist, content groans, laughter and love. Stiles may have trespassed all those years ago, but they have since established a home in each other. 

Friendship Is Nice. Friendship and Lingerie Is Nicer.

Summary: CS Modern AU. Friends to Lovers. Emma gets some new lingerie and, intending to get approval from her friends, accidentally sends some revealing pictures to the wrong group chat. Smut ensues.

tagging @emmasbutt who has put up w/ my incessant chatter while writing this fic ♥

Rated M. 6.6k words ~ also on ao3

Emma Swan has not owned a decent set of lingerie in far too long. It’s not as if she’s had anyone to wear it around, has had any need for it. The thought of needing an upgrade to her sexy wardrobe isn’t something her friends have needled her about in a while and therefore, hasn’t crossed her mind.

She’s just gotten her income tax money and seeing as she’s finally in a financially stable enough place in her life to not need to spend the money on bills, she takes a slightly reluctant but much-needed trip to the nearest mall. Too many unstylishly ripped jeans and torn t-shirts have been piling up in her wardrobe and, really, her lack of anything that ranges outside the bounds of leather and simple cotton is kind of sad.

She’s made a decent dent in her wallet—a couple of sheer shirts (who knew sheer was so in), a floral dress, a little black dress Ruby will whole-heartedly approve of, a nice green jacket that is decidedly not leather, and even a pencil skirt—when she passes the Victoria’s Secret.

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Similarly, there’s The X-Files’ Gillian Anderson, that great goddess of cult TV and modern nerdery, cast in the role of Media, goddess of screens. In her flickering debut, the salacious siren calls to Siren by manifesting on televisions at a warehouse supermarket, taking the form of Lucille Ball, but max naughty. She beckons to Shadow like a commercial, or maybe a Starz show, bidding for his attention with a wicked wink and a promise to flash him some T&A (actually, just the T), to worship her with his eyeballs, with his viewership, for our worship. It’s a brilliantly impish moment.
—  Entertainment Weekly review American Gods and rate it an A- (x)
Red (Sneak Peak)

Just a little bit of something I’m working on… hope you enjoy it! xx

***

Originally posted by 1dlarryluv

He stares at you in amazement when you drop to your knees, your eyes glistening with something he never thought he’d see directed at him, at least not coming from you - lust. Your fingers, clumsy in your haste to undress him, shake while you pluck the button of his skinny jeans and pull on the zipper, the noise making the hairs on his neck stand on end.

You don’t waste time with teasing and he appreciates it - his cock is pulsing inside his pants and it’s become uncomfortable to be bound by the tightness of his skinnies, so, when you eagerly pull them down along with the soft fabric of his boxer briefs, Harry breathes a sigh of relief, the cold air of your foyer enveloping him as his hard member hits against the soft pink of his shirt that still covers his body.

Your lips spread into a smile when your hand wraps around his shaft and Harry sucks in a breath as the thought dawns on him - his lips, swollen from your eager kisses, won’t be the only part of his body covered in the vibrant red of your lipstick.

“Gonna leave your stain on m’ cock, too?” Harry questions, hair falling across his eyes as his neck bends so he can look down at you. “Been thinking ‘bout it all night… having yeh mark me.”

The moan that leaves your lips as you register his words make his knees go weak - it’s an obscene, salacious, desperate sound, loud and unbridled, the perfect description of how erotic this whole ordeal is. It makes his skin prickle with goose bumps and his eyes glaze over with lust and he reaches down, one hand on your chin, forcing you to look up at him, your eyes shining with desire, red stained mouth open around shallow breaths.

“D’yeh like that? Like the thought o’ marking me?” When you gulp, a whiny “yes” coming from your lips, Harry’s fingers tighten slightly around your chin, his thumb reaching up to drag across your bottom lip, smudging the lipstick even further and he can feel his cock twitch and pulse in your grasp. “Is that cause yeh want people to know I’m yours?”

masturbate + mgc

(gif made by the lovely @punksos​ x)

> synopsis ~ best friend michael walks in on u masturbating, and well… u get what happens next
> word count ~ 3280
> requested? ~ no
requests are sent in here // masterlist


You kicked the duvet off yourself and pushed your hair away from your forehead, catching the mirror of the moon on the line of your wrist. It began with a little thought at 11PM – just a salacious bedtime story for you to fall asleep. You expected it to remain as such, until the thought swelled into something a lot more, swelled directly into the pit of your stomach, and between your thighs. It would’ve been an easy job done, any other day. It would’ve only taken you to shuffle off your pyjama bottoms and spread yourself across the mattress, but there was a problem. There was Michael.

Michael slept in the room beside you, probably fast asleep as the night shied into 3AM. You were caught up watching a film, and before you knew, it was too late for him to head home. The walls were paper thin, which meant he would probably hear every sound you make if you were to try and relieve yourself. Your stomach tightened its knot once you let the whisper of his image into your mind. He would be shirtless, as he slept – entwined in your bed sheets, bed sheets that you have slept in before. You hoped he knew – you hoped your scent was still on the pillow, and touched his naked chest and kissed his sleeping face. You knew yourself he wouldn’t think so profoundly about every little thing about you as you did him. He was the goddamn reason you couldn’t sleep – the secret you kept to yourself as you dreamed of him pressing his lips down in places he’d never seen of yours.

Staring up at the ceiling, you bite your lip, playing with the waistband of your pyjamas and snapping it against your hipbone. It was one swift movement, when you pulled them off your ankles and opened your legs up, leaving your cheeks flushed, your thighs smeared with your own wetness, and the air from the window cracked ajar erupting hairs across your lower half. You told yourself you wouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t – it was too risky, having him less than five large strides away from your room. It was funny how you persisted to tell yourself not to, while your fingers teased down past your navel and between your thighs.

When your middle finger met your clit, your teeth met your bottom lip. It was already wet, from dragging up from your slit, and you sighed, reaching your arm beneath your pillow as you stretched into your own touch. Michael swept into your mind behind your closed eyes, how the softness of his voice could be lulling you into a state of daze. You released the tension you held over your clit and flicked the pad of your finger over the small bud, your riposte a buck of the hips and a strung out whine. Pushing your face into the pillow, you slid your finger across your slit, biting your lip and shutting your eyes as you curled a digit into yourself. Holding your breath, you thrust your finger in and out slowly, then picked up pace once you were wet enough to let you put another in if you wanted. A deep pump choked a thick moan out of you, and having moved your head from the pillow, it fell into you room – open, lewd, and shameless.

You didn’t bother to hide yourself, and the dream of Michael consumed you hard enough for you to nearly pull the sheets off your bed in your delight. Moving your finger out from inside you, a dull sense of pleasure blossomed into your stomach, and your eyes half-lidded opened to meet your bedroom door – now swung open completely in contrast to the small crack you left before – with Michael, standing with a thumb hanging out of the pocket in his sweatpants and an expression you couldn’t quite read in the darkness. Your cheeks felt hot, and you froze, brain not working quick enough to pull the duvet over your naked legs.

“Michael, what the fuck?” you finally said after a while, and he shook his head, reaching over and turning on the light. It sent your eyes out of focus, but you ripped the duvet of yourself and held it there. An eyebrow raised, an amused grin spread his lips. You couldn’t look him in the eye. That couldn’t have just happened. Oh, my God. “Don’t you knock? The door was closed!”

“I heard you saying my name.” He offered a one armed shrug, leaning against your doorway and gracing his gaze on you, unmoving. You kept your head turned, mostly so he couldn’t see the sweat shining over your warm face. He stepped into your room, and closed the door. “Now, you’ve woken me up.”

You closed your eyes, inhaled, and placed your hand on the crown of your forehead, trying to calm your breathing as much as you could. His voice was so soft. It was sleepy and gentle, words slurring over each other and clashing, although his gaze was wide and awake. He ambled over, and sat on the bed, right beside your legs, which were luckily hidden beneath the quilt. You tried making yourself feel better of the situation at hand. Everyone masturbates. It’s normal. Michael probably got walked in on by someone, too. Just, unfortunately, not you.

“Go to bed, Michael.” You leaned over to pick up your pyjama bottoms from the side of the bed, right beside where the bed dipped in favour of Michael. He touched your waist, and you were close enough to him to hear him release a deep breath once his fingers met your spine. Your hand trembled when it fell on top of your missing clothes, and you turned your face; his breath met your cheek. “Michael…”

“Y/N.” He moved closer, managing to wrap his arm around you, now. His nose bumped your cheek, and you closed your eyes, smelling the sleep and shower gel clinging to his skin. Your hand faltered by your pyjama bottoms, and you rested it somewhere nearby – which happened to be Michael’s thigh. You nearly moved it away, but he kept it there with his own hand. “Come on. I heard you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You had your finger all pressed up in your–”

“Michael,” you stopped him, but didn’t shift from his grip. “You can’t – don’t tease me like this.”

An airy laugh left his mouth. “You’re getting wet again, aren’t you?” The hand he had atop yours released, and he found your bare leg beneath the covers. It travelled to spread your knees, and you shivered under his cold hands. “I want to touch you, Y/N. I wanna make you feel better than you thought I could.”

You pursed your lips as his hand slid up your calf and touched the soft skin on your thigh. “Please. If you aren’t going to finish me off, don’t make me want you to.”

He laughed gently, the sound rumbling from his throat into a quiet breath. “Who said I wasn’t going to?”

When you turned your head, you kissed. It was impulsive. It was hot. Your hand moved up his neck and into his hair, like you knew your way around him perfectly without a second thought. His thumbs pushed your face up so he wouldn’t spend a single second not kissing you, and your mind was consumed with him. You remembered earlier in the evening, when it begun to rain, and the windows were covered in teary drops, how you sat so close to him, with your fingers barely touching, and neither of you daring to look away from the screen and at each other. It was an immature game you played, where you couldn’t admit to something as simple as a little crush, and now you were in your bed, spread across the mattress with the same boy holding you. Pushing the duvet away from the two of you, he shifted between your legs, parting from your mouth to peer down at your bare hips on his clothed.

“Jesus,” he whispered, and lifted up the hem of your shirt so he could run his fingers over the soft flesh of your stomach. Shivering, you inhaled, the scent of yourselves mixed together flooding you. His fingers, as usual, were cold, and pressed carefully and unfamiliarly across your body. His eyes flicked up to meet yours – green and dancing, rejoicing at the sight of you. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to be this close to you? Hmm?”

He slid both hands to the back of your thighs, and gripped you close to him, his mouth finding the column of your throat and embellishing it with wet kisses that made your head twirl. You sighed, whether out of delight or pure relief of having Michael here, you weren’t sure, and said, “too long.”

His lips met the flesh between your jaw and your throat, and you took in a sharp breath, your hand travelling up the muscles across his back and playing with the shirt covering them. Cupping your hips, you felt him smile against your skin, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling, too. This is Michael, you reminded yourself, stretching your arms out across the mattress and closing your eyes, feeling him move away from your neck before capturing your mouth for a kiss once again. This is all you’ve wanted, and more. You didn’t need to tell yourself – you knew. He knew. It wasn’t much of a secret to either of you.

Carefully, he sat up, and you followed suit, your legs split between his hips. You both went to reach for the hem of his shirt at the same time, and when your gazes met, you let out a soft laugh, kneeling to tug it off his head. The backs of your fingers swept against his chest, and he bit his lip, pulling you in enough for your hands to grip his shoulders to keep balance. You watched each other, and everything was registering in your brain slowly, savouring every glance, every moment, every brush of skin between you. Your palms moved over his milky white chest, and you leaned back a little, enough to see the shy blush rising in his cheeks.

“Your hands feel nice,” he said gently, setting his own over yours. You stopped, but he pushed them down, letting you familiarise yourself with him, letting you map over the cities in his skin, the countries on his collarbones, and the stars in his eyes. You could hear the wind spreading the curtains apart, and your reached around his waist, nearing yourself to him. His fingers found your hair. “You’re so pretty, you know? The prettiest. You’re the prettiest.”

Smiling, you pulled back, tracing your finger along the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re such a charmer.”

“Only for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t hide the heat spreading beneath your face. Lifting your shirt up, you threw it off the side of the bed, where it met Michael’s. Your breasts were bare, and met the cool air in your room between your chest and his. He kissed you one more time, laying you down with his fingers resting at the bottom of your back. Your legs wrapped around him, and he pecked across your collarbones, his lips hovering over your breast. His breath hardened your nipples, and you pushed his dark hair away from his forehead, regarding his eyes as you nodded at him, and he kissed over your chest gently. He made sure to be tentative, gouging your reaction with every move so he knew you were enjoying it. His lips were petal soft, and covered your nipples perfectly, slowly running down your stomach and onto your thighs. You pressed them together, not to block him, but to ease the tension between them. His palm slid beneath your hips, the other parting your legs between him. It was then you realised you were even wetter than ever.

He raised a smug eyebrow at you, and you flushed. “So wet already?” he said.

Biting your lip, you didn’t break his gaze. “I was touching myself before, remember?”

“And whom were you thinking about?”

Your eyes shifted along his face, and you smiled coyly, your fingers meeting his on your hipbone. He still had his right hand resting on your inner thigh, now lying on his stomach with his mouth achingly close to your centre. His tongue travelled along your centre, and you bit harder down on your lip, taking a fistful of the bed sheets in your hand. He took your clit in your mouth, playing with it and pulling back once again. You exhaled, tangling your hand in his hair to pull him closer to you, but he resisted, adamant at going at his own pace, to tease and fulfil every fibre in you aching for him. His tongue swirled over your sex, and you felt his spit run down between your thighs and he tasted you.

Every moment of pressure he placed on your clit, your legs tried relaxing and pressing together, but he kept them open, his thumbs drawing circles on your skin. A knot blossomed into your stomach and you moaned, gritting your teeth and lifting your hips off the bed, attempting to grind onto his mouth. It was a futile effort, and you both knew that. He had full control over you, and you absolutely loved it. Tugging back, he licked your clit gently, and when you glanced down, his eyes were locked on yours, daring you to do something. Daring you to cum before he lets you do so. You hold your breath, keeping yourself back until he tells you you’re allowed to cum. It was an unspoken rule, but his stance and approach already let you know he wanted your orgasm to belong to him.

“Fuck, oh, Michael–” You failed saying his name coherently, and your mouth stuttered. “Mikey.”

He groaned against you, and your stomach tightened, along with your grip on the duvet. “That’s it, baby. You like it when I do this, don’t you?” He leaned in again, striping a long lick before sucking hard on your clit. Your heart picked up, and you reached your arms up, pressing your palms onto your forehead. He gazed up at you, moving away from your core with a content sigh and the lick of lips. “Fucking hell, princess. You taste so good. And you’re shaking.” He cradled your thigh in one hand. “Yeah? You liked it that much?”

You nodded, lacing the sheets between your fingers. Frustration welled up between your legs at being unable to cum, but when Michael started to slip off his sweatpants, you perked up. Despite your weak legs, you sat up, draping yourself over his crotch and looking up at him. His eyes were half lidded, his cock hard against his wrist. Taking your hand, he ran it over his shaft, and his breath hitched. You shared one more adoring look before you took it on yourself, touching his member and running your finger over the tip. He was warm, and rather obviously grew harder just in your grip, as you pumped your hand up and down. His hips bucked up, and a rumble of a moan spilled out of his mouth. You smiled, leaning down and running your tongue across his member, your lips landing on the bottom of his shaft as you sucked it. He gasped, and his hand went to the back of your head.

“Y/N, oh,” he mumbled underneath his breath. “Oh, my fucking God.”

You continued what you did, then trailed your lips to his tip once again, taking him in whole until his cock hit the back of your throat. He hummed pleasantly, pushing your hair from your face so he could watch you. It was never a secret he found you beautiful, but it was also something he would never care to admit. Nothing to throw off the balance of your friendship, although it was blatant everything was fuelled by tamed lust and longing looks. You bobbed your head up and popped your lips off him, and he hissed, his nails leaving crescents in your shoulders. When he tensed up, all the way from his stomach to his cock, you pulled away, licking your lips and propping yourself up on your arms. He throbbed, red at the tip, and a vein protruding over the side.

Something passed between you, and he rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone. “You want to do this?”

Your hand found his over your face, and you barely had to think twice. “Of course.”

It was a gentle exchange, and he lifted you up so you lay with your back pressed against your mattress, which was still warm from where Michael was before. Despite you being so unfamiliar with his body, and his with yours, when the space between your thighs filled up with him, it felt right. It felt like you knew what you were doing, and there was nothing new with what was happening. You both sighed once he entered you, and he kissed your neck ever so softly, adding to the swell in your heart. He began to thrust, and reached down to circle your clit with his middle finger. Back arching off the bed, you lost your hand in his hair, an overwhelming feeling of delight overtaking you.

“Mikey,” you whimpered in his ear, and he let out a long held groan, gripping your hips, and picking up his speed. A harsh burst of pleasure occurred in your lower stomach, and a sound rose out from your throat as his fingers linked with yours and pushed your hand beside your head. Your legs wrapped around his hips, willing him in deeper. “Y-you’re so thick, oh fuck.”

“Does it feel good?” he asked, not straying with his mouth too far from your skin. His kisses were light along your shoulder, then finally, on your mouth. “Because it feels so good for me.”

“Yes.” A surprising jolt shook your voice, and Michael slammed harder into you, his fingers tracing your ribcage. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He lifted your legs, grunting and pumping himself harder. You felt him hit your G-Spot and inclined off the bed, swearing until he stopped you with another thrust. You were a mess between the mattress and the duvet, half of the bed sheets drooping onto the floor beside your clothes, and nothing else flooding the room other than your shared moans. You held onto his shoulders, which flexed every time he moved deeper inside you.

“So deep,” you whispered. “I think I’m close.”

“Me too, baby.” He rubbed your clit faster. “With me, okay? Come on, sweetheart. You’ve got me so hard.”

He fucked you harder into the mattress, until a lurch of inexplicable euphoria threw you off, and you were meeting his chest with yours and whining for him to cum with you. He did, after a moment, and pulled out, lying beside you and moving his sweaty fringe from his forehead. You kept your eyes closed, unsure whether you would be able to meet his gaze without blushing. He turned around to face you, propping himself onto his elbow and coasted his lips across your cheek. He shifted so he could kiss your mouth, and without much more persuasion, you leaned in, and wrapped your arms around him.

“Stay here for the night,” you murmured.

Chuckling, he reciprocated. “I wasn’t planning on leaving, anyway.”

Title: Composed
Warnings: Filthy porn, Negan’s potty mouth 
Characters: Negan/Reader, reader insert
Word Count: 5,408

Summary: Negan finds your dirty, porn writing and becomes intrigued.

Originally posted by grungedaddykinks

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CS AU: Witch & The Wolf 

Emma put a few more logs on the fire as the sun was nearly down and Killian would be there soon. She set to work making up their camp - a flick of her wrist and a grand tent appeared, a king sized bed right in the middle and loaded down with soft linens, plush pillows and a warm fur blanket. The soft twinkling lights that lined the ceiling was sure to create the perfect atmosphere, not that they really needed help. Next she magicked a cooler chest filled with delicacies they would surely need later in the night to replenish their spent energy along with wine and other assorted drinks.

A satisfied smile spread across her face as she gave the camp a once over. Nodding as she straightened her flannel shirt, she turned back to the fire and settled into a chair by the fire, watching the sunset. 

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Imagine Jerome Valeska x You (Him being overly jealous and possessive)

Anon asked for a story with an jealous/possessive Jerome Valeska <3

Thank you @starfishfaerie for editing! <3 

Warnings: Jealous/Possessive Jerome, Dom!Jerome, Vulgar Language, Knife Play, Murder (yes, Jerome is pissed), Oral Sex (Him receiving), Slight Sexual Violence, Sex in front of another person

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