#luv u bitch

[porcelaindollkiller]

@thepowerrose you suck

[archxngxl]

me to @daisyxmuses all day every day

[hereyeswerefilledwiththestars]

what’s ur side blog

wouldn't u like to know xoxo

[clairedaring]

You think you can get away from me? Have your packed your things and left my place yet? Ming. Ming.

MY STAND-IN (2024) | 1.04

[catatombi]

gotta tape his face back together

[rax-writes]

↬ hellish elysian

Elysian - relating to or characteristic of heaven or paradise.

Pairing: Crowley x afab!Reader Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), choking / breath play, impact play, hair pulling, degradation, mention of blood kink

The original objective of this entire situation had been manipulation. But, at this point, it was impossible to tell who was manipulating whom – or if that was at all part of the dynamic anymore.

Post-human blood debacle, Crowley felt more vulnerable than he had in a few hundred years. Being around demons too often felt risky, lest they sniff out his vulnerability & use it to their advantage. But he craved touch, affection, and closeness – which made him feel like a whiny child, but he couldn't get rid of the craving without satiating it. The best option, in this “between a rock and a hard place” scenario, was none other than one of the people who had a hand in attempting to make him human.

You.

You clearly knew of his involvement in the third trial, and you were a human. Even though you were a hunter – a damn good one, at that – you were still just a human, so he viewed you as less of a threat than any demons he could use for sex.

Or, at least, that's how he justified it. The truth was that Crowley had wanted to fuck you since the day he met you – first just to piss off Moose and Squirrel, then simply because something about you made his trousers tighter.

On your end, the rationale wasn't too different from Crowley's. Given the endless flirtatious comments the King of Hell threw your way, you often contemplated whether you could use sex as a bargaining chip with him. Sure, he was undeniably hot, and something about that gravely accented voice made you flush. But it didn't seem to be a card you truly wanted to play – until you basically got a late night “booty call” text from an unmistakable 666 phone number.

You got some juicy intel out of it, and a couple of ancient relics, both of which helped on the next couple of hunts. The next time, you got a very old, very powerful protection amulet. The third time… well, you came so hard you passed out, so you just called that transaction square. The fourth time was just a lavish dinner, a horse-drawn carriage ride around Paris at night, and a stay in a hotel that was so over-the-top fancy you could scarcely believe your eyes.

You lost track after that, but eventually… there were no transactions, no trades. Just mind-blowing, spine-melting, moral-disintegrating sex.

Crowley still bought you dresses with four-figure price tags to wear to swanky restaurants, followed by stays in five star hotels or rented million-dollar homes, fucking the brains out of one another on every surface. But somewhere along the way, any attempts at personal gain via manipulation were lost, and the two of you just enjoyed each other's company.

Which is what brought you to your current position – naked on silk sheets, barely clinging to consciousness as the King of Hell made you cum on his tongue for the umpteenth time that evening.

Crowley spoke, but you could barely hear him over the ringing in your ears. It sounded like he was far away as you gasped for air, eyes closed as you came down from your high.

“You look so pretty like this, pet,” he purred, absentmindedly kissing your inner thighs – each peck of his lips making you twitch. “Fucked within an inch of your life by none other than moi. Oh, I love to see it.”

Agonizingly slow, Crowley made his way up your body, leaving nips and kisses in his wake. Thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, throat, jaw – and, finally, your lips. As he situated himself between your legs, the familiar feeling of his rock hard cock grinding against your soaked pussy invaded your senses, causing you to sigh into the kiss. He continued to glide his shaft through your folds, teasing you until you began to whine.

“Something you want, darling?” Crowley asked lightheartedly, grinding harder against you. When you merely whined and hooked your legs around him, trying to pull him closer, he let out a condescending tsk tsk tsk. “You know what to say to get exactly what you want.”

However, his smirk faded when you rolled your eyes.

“I am not saying that.”

“You will if you want me to finish the job.”

That only made you smile, because god, it was always so fun to call his bluffs.

You shrugged, moving to leave the bed, “Meh, the job is finished enough, I'd say. We can go ahead and call it a day.”

Lightning fast, Crowley let out a quiet growl, grabbed you by the jaw, turned your head to face him, agitation written all over his face. You merely smiled – which only irked him more.

“Fine. You don't have to call me ‘my king.’ Just… just get back over here,” Crowley demanded, his voice becoming marginally more desperate at the end. You complied, falling into his arms on the bed, and he wasted no time in capturing you in a searing kiss.

One of his hands drifted lower to pump himself a few times, before snarling, “Cocky little bitch, aren’t you?” Before you could retort, he plunged into you in one swift thrust.

A loud, debauched moan escaped you, and you mindlessly raked your nails down Crowley’s back, earning a hiss from him – but you knew him well enough by now to know that he liked it.

The demon set a merciless pace, burying his face in the crook of your neck, beard scratching the sensitive flesh there.

“Hit me.”

The words fell from your lips before you’d even fully thought them through, but Crowley was never one to hesitate. Almost instantly, you felt his palm collide with your cheek – somehow with the perfect amount of pain to make it absurdly pleasurable.

You toppled over an edge you didn’t even realize you’d been approaching, coming undone beneath him with a scream. Vaguely, you heard Crowley hum in amusement. Before you’d fully regained your senses, he was flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up to meet his, using his grip on you as leverage to resume harshly fucking you. He seemed to be aware that you were practically mindless at this point, as he manhandled you however he pleased.

As a cacophony of wet, lewd sounds and moans filled the room, you momentarily had enough mental clarity to recall why the nature of this arrangement was so hot: it’s wrong. It’s so goddamn wrong – for a skilled hunter to be knocking boots with the literal King of Hell. But fuck, does it feel so right when he’s inside of you – hitting your sweet spot with brutal, precise thrusts, pulling your hair harshly to force you upright and into a messy kiss.

When the kiss broke, you let your head fall back onto Crowley’s shoulder, and his heavy breathing hit your ear as he wrapped a strong hand around your throat, squeezing just the right amount. You clenched around him, and he groaned – low and deep.

“Such a filthy whore you are, darling,” Crowley stated, that damned gravelly, accented voice causing you to clench around him again. Keeping one hand around your throat, the other drifted from your hip to your clit, rubbing steady circles over it. “Mm, you love it when I talk to you, don't you? Whether it’s praise or degradation – as long as I’m talking, it gets you moaning and gripping my cock like a bitch in heat. You’re positively vile, pet. And I love it.”

There were tears streaming down your face from listening to him, and from him toying with your overstimulated clit, and the sight brought a dark chuckle from deep within Crowley’s chest.

“My little succubus,” he mused, then abruptly slapped you again before returning that hand to your throat to give it a firm squeeze.

It was all too much. You came again with a strangled cry of his name. Ever the egomaniac, hearing you finish with his name on your lips was almost always his ending point as well, and Crowley bit down harshly onto your shoulder as he finished inside of you.

The pair of you fell to your sides on the bed, spooning with his cock still inside of you. Crowley draped his arm around your waist, then kissed the bite mark he left on your shoulder. When you turned your head slightly to speak to him, your breath was stolen from your lungs when you noticed the crimson blood on his lips. He opened his mouth to apologize for having bitten you so hard, but then he noticed the way your jaw hung slack, your breathing grew heavier, and your pupils darkened to the point that your irises were fully eclipsed. And he smirked.

“A blood kink, love? Always full of surprises, aren’t we?”

“Go to sleep, Crowley.”

“Another time then,” he replied, not missing the way you smiled as you turned away from him.

[hungharrington]

i looove the idea of steve putting on a few post vecna, his sweet sweet thighs and belly 😭😭❤️just completely oblivious and slightly confused to the adoration held for his softness. slow blowjob in the morning caressing his tummy and working your hand down his happy trail, before going to squeeze his cock. hands squishing and kneading his thighs as he’s sucked off, his pretty little whimpers escaping

THIS. THIS ASK HAS STUCK IN MY BRAIN AND FOLLOWED ME AROUND SINCE U SENT IT NONNIE LIKE YOU!! GET!! IT!! there is such pure adoration in this ask… u love stevie like i do i just know it <3 

it’s not that he’s skinny beforehand it’s just it’s year after year after year of living in survival mode does things to the body. steve’s on the leaner side and it’s saved his skin more times he can count, being nimble and fast. so, yeah, it does take a good year or two before steve manages to relax in his life and then at least one more for his body to catch up and let him settle. let him grow properly— give him that chub around his thighs, his tummy a proper lil pouch instead of lean and hard muscle. and to be honest, steve doesn’t really notice :’) he’s caught up in living his life fully with you happily and you only catch it, like really notice the difference, after seeing a photo of him back in ‘83 and it sets a fucking fire in you. you can’t contain it, can’t think normally about how much you adore the softness steve’s grown into with you — and it comes out the next morning, when you’re both getting handsy between the sleepy kisses. 

steve is surprised by how eager you are— normally mornings together are more of a slow cuddle fuck if anything— but today, you’re hungry for it, lips just caressing down his neck, sloppy kisses down his chest til you get to his tummy and steve loves it. he loves the view of you peering up at him, adoration in your gaze as you nuzzle along his happy trail with a content hum. your hands are soft, sweet, giving a ghost of a touch along the planes of his torso and you don’t mean to tease him, but his length pressed against your stomach isn’t enough to draw you from loving on him. it’s not til he starts squirming a bit that you notice he’s all hot and bothered, chest rising and falling a bit quick. “m’sorry baby,” you murmur, finally letting your kisses lead you lower, along his hipbone. “didn’t mean to tease.” 

you try to restrain yourself and give yourself only a minute on his thighs, little nips and lovebites, but even then steve notices it a bit, the extra attention you’re giving. he sounds a bit wrecked when he rasps his words out, “lotsa… christ, lotsa love on the thighs today, honey,” and you use that are your cue to slide his leaking cock into your mouth, pulling out this adorable soft little moan. you pull back, giving the head the smallest kitten lick, hands stretching up to his tummy for a moment, “bad thing?”you check. steve’s shaking his head against the pillow in an instant, “no! no, never. never… never a bad thing being loved by you sweetness,” his voice is all sticky with love and you know he means every word. your hands drag down to hold his thighs, kneading the softness as you start to suck him gently. the bedroom is golden in the morning sun and steve’s soft little noises, whimpers and moans, sound downright sinful and he feels so damn loved. it might just be a perfect morning.

[gordonsicedcoffee]

That is complete bullshit. I'd rather you break down and tell me that you hated me. At least there would be some passion in it.

MONICA POTTER as ALISON GORDON SAW (2004) dir. James Wan

[korships]

shoutout to my fellow selfshippers who don’f fit the “soft” and “demure” archetypes usually seen in selfship imagines.

shoutout to selfshippers who are more of the ‘leader’ in their ships.

shoutout to self shippers who may be standoffish, blunt, loud, bullheaded, or have a strong personality. maybe you can be crass, or argumentative, or jovial. maybe people find you intimidating at first.

but your f/o loves your strong personality!

p-oship dni

[coopcoops]

[knific]

workkk in progress

[checkitoutmikey]

David, fully vamped out: why aren!T yoU ScaREd?!?

Y/N: meh, ive seen worse,

Dwayne: ..

Y/N: used to work in customer service

Paul: ..

Marko: ... we’re keeping them right?

[fightzaynfight]

monday night raw — may 29th, 2023

💃 sami dances as the crowd serenades him with worlds apart🕺

[silvernyxa]

au where fob falls through before it’s even off the ground, patrick gets lonely, and he decides to steal a corpse and turn it into his robot companion. shit gets messy though when joe trohman walks back patrick’s life, his little buddy starts having dreams (memories?) of a past life, and some dude named andy is determined to find pete wentz- the local legend who suddenly disappeared from the scene a few months ago

[ghoulwritesvalorantbois]

Hihi!! I was wonder if I could get a omen x fem reader one shot where the reader is in a almost fatal accident during a mission? No pressure tho, and have a good day :D

I won't mention why this took so long, but it did and I'm sorry for that. Second, I listened Slipknot while writing this one. Ohom- anyways. Warnings: Blood, talking about guns and shooting, classic valorant shit, omen being omen, reader gets injured and it's giving me weird lovely vibes. Chamber is only mentioned here so no worries about him. Word Count: 609 (get it? haha- ok sorry.) ----- Sweat poured down from your head, eyes looking everywhere for that damn soldiers. You knew they took their guns out, and there was no chance that you would be getting out of the situation alive. So you reasoned, pointing your gun at your side and straining your body to hear your envoirment. Your head was buzzing so badly, and your hands were shaking from adrenalin. Why did you accept this mission? You had the option of saying "no," or declining the mission, but Omen was going to accompany you, so you felt safe doing it. Your earbud was long gone while you were killing some soldiers inside the empty factory. The walls were cracked, and the darkness of the empty open space made your eyes open more. You couldn’t communicate with Omen, and you didn't know where he was. You wish you had your earbuds right now so you could hear anything comforting from him; even a damn order would suffice. "Hands on the air!" You quickly turned around to see a soldier, a short man with his boots on the ground and his gun pointed at you.You had a bad feeling that you couldn't explain. "Y/N carefull!" "Omen?! ngh!-" There were gunshots and a heavy ringing that you couldn't explain. First, you felt too heavy, almost like something hit you with full force, then you couldn’t feel your legs and puked blood that you couldn’t see very well. Then there were more shots, clawing at the floor; you tried to look up; darkness crept to your back; and a mist of protection embraced you. It felt cold, perhaps too cold, then the burning sensation gradually increased, as if you had eaten lava all day. Turning your back, your hand went to your stomach, warm red liquid covering your finger tips and glistening towards you, and then it hit you. That damn soldier shot you, and now you are bleeding out. You tried to gulp the blood back that tried to go out between your lips; at least, you tried to. Whimpers came out of you like a sing-song tune, then you started to tear up. You thought you'd be safe. How many times have you killed only to laugh about what you did? "We are safe now, and you are safe now." The sound of the phantom man drowned out your sobs. Your eyes fixed on him as he crouchingly approached you until only the shadow that surrounded you was his figure. He looked at you; you knew he did. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was looking at you. Then you felt his cold hand on top of your bloody hand, which clutched the wound, which was possibly bleeding too much. You were so unsure, so gone, and he seemed to know that. "Chamber will be here soon with the helicopter; can you hold on a bit?" You grunted, while Omen lowered his face more toward you. He looked calm, but something was off about the way his hand got tighter around yours. "Keep your eyes open for me." His arms encircled you, almost in a hugging way. You were so out of it that you didn't realise he had lifted you up. walking away from the mission to only save you. No, he cannot save himself in this situation, but he can save you. "I don’t want you to die yet; you don’t need to live within me." You whimpered again, resting your head on his shoulder and clutching your wound even more tightly. "I don’t want to live within you; I want to live next to you." "Then let me save you."

[syssyadmin]

i know i rly oughta pace myself with how many good selfies i took to post today but. who would i be if i didn't immediately promote my @trannika tank that came early today 💞