#Happy Sinday babes

[andy-clutterbuck]

[yunalai]

BABBIT FINISHED MY QIDRAY DOODLE HEHEHEHE (NSFW!!!)

[musedriven]

" i’d tell you not to get in trouble, but i suspect it will find you whether you like it or not. "

[navybrat817]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must pick one CE fictional babe and share a hoe thought including the prompts: midnight + soft!dark 😏 Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes and your legs 😘❤️

Sis! I asked you with no context to choose between Steve and Ari. Hehe. Hope you like it.

When the Clock Strikes

Pairing: Soft Dark!Ari Levinson x Female Reader Summary: You wake up and realize you're not alone in your new place. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Implied smutty times, non-con/dubcon elements (you have been warned), creepy vibes, otherworldly, Ari Levinson (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Happy Sinday! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure why you awoke so suddenly, but you found yourself shivering as you sat up in your bed. You normally had no trouble sleeping through the night, though you couldn’t be sure it wasn’t morning or not thanks to your blackout curtains. Maybe it was a touch of anxiety since you were living in a new place, but you loved your new home. It also could’ve been because you were freezing.

And naked.

What the hell?

You covered your chest as you tried to see through the darkness of your room. The last thing you remembered coming home after having a couple of drinks with your friends. The warmth from the alcohol made you strip off most of your clothes before you collapsed on the silky sheets, but you were certain you kept your bra and underwear on. What happened to them? Where was your comforter?

With a tired sigh, you grabbed the sheet from the end of the bed and covered yourself up. You probably kicked the comforter away in your sleep. It still didn’t explain what happened to the rest of your clothes. Fear lit up in your chest like a flare at the thought of someone else taking them off, but you didn’t bring anyone home with you.

I didn’t have that much to drink.

Glancing at your nightstand, you felt around for your phone and tapped the screen. Midnight. “Just go back to sleep,” you muttered to yourself, fluffing your pillow and resting your head against it with a huff.

Silence filled the air as you shut your eyes.

They snapped open as the closet door handle turned a second later.

Oh, my god.

You lay frozen as something or someone slowly pushed the door open, the creaking noise making your heart palpitate. From what you could see, a tall, built man with the brightest blue eyes you’d ever soon stood in the middle of your closet. You shouldn’t have been able to make out his eye color from the lack of light, but they seemed to glow as he took a step toward you. No sound came out when you tried to scream.

Why can’t I move?

Though you didn’t see him move his hand or move any closer to the bed, he turned on the nearby lamp. Whether to get a better look at you or for you to see him, you weren’t sure. He had no shirt on, the dark hair on his chest matching his luscious locks and beard. His piercing gaze seemed to see right through you as you thought about how handsome he was. It wasn’t right to think that way, but fear was sometimes unexplainable.

He’s a stranger in my home. He was hiding in my closet. He-

“You’re much prettier than the last tenant,” the man spoke into the darkness, his voice rich and deep. “And all alone.”

You were still incapable of using your voice as you attempted to scramble away from him. You asked before signing the lease why you got the place so cheap, but you couldn’t recall the answer. Did he do something to the last person who lived here? Why didn’t you ask around more?

“Have I rendered you speechless, sweetheart?” he asked with an amused smile, gripping your ankle through the sheet. “We’ll need to change that.”

Your heart leapt to your throat when he tore the fabric away to reveal your naked body. “What do you want?” you finally asked, your voice no louder than a whisper.

The bed dipped under his weight as he crawled toward you. The mixture of light and shadows cast a sinister glow along his face as he smiled. “I want you to scream my name when I make you come.”

He cut off your whimper when his hand shot out to grip your throat. “Please,” you gasped.

“Ari. My name is Ari,” he told you, squeezing as he nudged your thighs apart. You didn’t know who he was. More accurately, what he was. “And I know you’ll take my cock like a good girl. I’ll wreck your cunt ‘til you beg for me to keep you.”

You arched your back, his touch everywhere though he didn’t move his hands. His fingers pinched your nipples, his tongue licked your folds, but he stayed still above you. It was otherworldly. It had to be a dream.

Or a nightmare.

“But you won’t have to beg much. I already plan to keep you,” he promised, brushing his thumb along your lips before he forced them open. “And I plan to ruin each of your holes. Your cunt, your ass, your mouth, they’re mine. You’re mine.”

You made a sound of protest around the digit in your mouth when you felt the head of his cock breach your tight hole. He hadn’t prepped you, but your body betrayed you by trying to suck more of him in. Why weren’t you fighting? Why did you want this?

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let your sweet cunt welcome me home where I belong,” he grunted.

I belong to you, Ari.

Before he sheathed you completely, you woke up with a gasp. You gulped as you felt along your body, your heart pounding in your chest as your eyes darted around your dark bedroom. A nervous giggle escaped when you realized you were all alone. No one was in your room and you were okay. A strange man wasn’t about to take advantage of you. It was just a dream.

A vivid, erotic dream.

“Maybe I did drink too much,” you said, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. You frowned when you saw the time.

11:59pm

“What?” you whispered, gripping the device when you watched the time change to 12:00am.

Midnight.

The scared giggled came out again as you set your phone down. “It was just a dream,” you said, your gaze flickering to the closet door where it remained shut.

Just a dream.

That’s what you told yourself when the door handle turned.

Could be a fun world to explore with these two! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

[themarvelliteraryuniverse]

[ VIBRATION ] - for Victor. Ahem.

Happy SinDay

He likes this.

Victor toys with his phone more than he ever has, careful to keep his claws short enough so he doesn't puncture the screen before he's had his fun. He got a phone for this reason and only this reason. Well, maybe not only but mostly.

He grins, remembering setting the toy down on the table in front of Hank's morning meal and the guy turning purple with a blush. He'd never seen someone's eyes go so wide, but the arousal that punctuated the air was answer enough for him.

If they had to do boring chore runs because Hank refused to bring him around Xavier and the rest of the X-Dicks, then Victor was going to have fun with it. Most of their "relationship" was Victor dragging Hank out of his comfort zone fifty shades of blue style, anyway. No real harm was ever done, mainly because if he ruined the guys trust now, there'd be no way he'd make it close enough to Xavier to deal a killing blow.

But none of that matters right now. What is important is walking through the only mutant friendly book store in town and waiting for Hank to order them coffee before his thumb slides across the screen of his phone and turns the toy up to full.

Victor keeps a fixed face, holding up a bag of coffee and pretending to read the label while all his other senses are tuned to Hank. To the noises he finally makes and the way his breathing gets harder and his heart beats off rhythm.

"Oh, hey, Babe. This stuff's from the Virgin Isles. Huh. Imagine that."

[espinosaurusrexex]

Sunday discussion? More like Sinday discussion. Your secret relationship fic got me thinking.

Picture this..

Every day is the same thing for Bucky with the guys trying to hook him up with some girl. But behind closed doors, he and Y/N go hard with their sexcapades. The team can clearly hear her and she doesn't care. But Bucky? Part of the fun for them is trying to keep quiet. Well Bucky tries to keep quiet, Y/N tries to make him break. Giving him the sloppiest blow jobs, taking him as deep as possible, just choking on him. But Bucky always wins. It's not till the team finds out about them that he stops holding back. Y/N smug as fuck at Bucky letting them all know who he belongs to. 😈

Did somebody turn up the heat?! Cause it’s getting hot in here!!!

This is so good OMG 😩

Just imagine Bucky having to hold back so much even though he knows every little moan he slips is so freaking rewarding because Y/N will LITERALLY REWARD HIM FOR IT!

“Just one little whimper, babe”

“No”

“You know you want to”

“No”

“Just a tiny little moan, Buck. I’ll do that thing”

And he bites his lips contemplating if it’s worth it. “Fuck…”

And there have definitely been several instances in which they almost got caught and Bucky had to do the old hide in the closet thing until whoever was at the door finally disappeared. Leading to all the other avengers betting on who they would see walking out that room only for them to never ever see anyone?! The reader is known as “miss Houdini” or something because she makes her lovers disappear and it’s triggering Sam and Tony so much!! (Also Pietro but his ego is too bruised to admit).

And every time he hears them discuss, Bucky just sits quietly in the corner smirking to himself like…

“Well, whoever it was this time, I have never heard that sound come from her room before. Must have some serious skills…”

And because they all picture him as this introverted guy they’re just all the more shocked it was Bucky all along.

You best believe the first time those two fuck after their relationship is public shakes the freaking compound. Bucky believes it’s the best sex ever because even though the thrill of getting caught turned him on so much, showing everyone what only Y/N can do to him is so freaking rewarding on a whole other level.

“I didn’t know you could sound this sexy, Bucky”

“Saved that one for the right moment. But I’m happy to repeat what we just did until you forget your own name, doll”

Hot damn!

[brknmnds]

@thesongbiird liked for a Sinday Starter.

To see her round with his babe inside full Happy with joy. Of course no-one else in the prisoner knew that he was the father, most were still not fond of him, though some had come around. Her family however did not like him, so he stared cleared and continued to do his part around the their home.

He was in the watch tower; on guard that night when she came to join him and while he knew that he should focus on his job. He also knew nothing would happen that night. So he let her climb onto his lap and ride him, his hands gripping at her sides as she rocks her hips against him.

[thirstencounters]

Enjoy, babes. Happy Sinday.

[andy-clutterbuck]

4x11 | Claimed

[ink-and-dagger]

Astrofuckinintheprivatebalconydrabbleplsnthanku

*scurries away*

VIP BOOTH [Very Important ~King~ Pin]

Silco x Reader || Silco x Astrid || Established Relationship || NSFW || MDNI || Semi-public sex || Dirty talk || Light choking || Very slight belly-bulge kink || Rough sex || Sub/Dom Undertones || After-care || Wc: 4.2K

Author note: Written for Astro, but can be read as general sassy AFAB reader. Messy wet smooches to @insult-2-injury for beta-ing and being a general babe 💜 Also shout out to @a-gal-with-taste for boinking me on the head when I needed it. Thank you all for being patient with me and my slow brain. Happy Sinday lovelies 💜

Drink With Me Masterlist🥃

“Boss man says you’re to go up and see him in half an hour.”

It isn’t uncommon for Sevika’s greetings to cut straight to the point. But what’s less common is Silco requesting your presence in his office mid-shift. You raise an eyebrow at the tall, dark woman towards whom you nudge a generous glass of tequila.

“And did boss man say why?”

“Nope.”

“How come he doesn’t want me up now?”

“Just the messenger, princess,” Sevika dismisses flatly, already turning away with her drink in hand and her attentions set upon two pretty women across the dance floor.

You roll your eyes at her retreating back but don’t speculate on it any further. Likelihood is that Silco simply needs your help with his eye treatment, or else your input on some other work matter. 

Half an hour passes quickly enough with the club at full capacity, and it isn’t long before you’re slipping out from behind the bar, with a quick word to Jasper, and weaving your way through the revelling crowds.

The tumultuous bass-line rumbles through the treads of your boots as you spring your way happily up the stairs to the balcony – bobbing your head along to the blasting beat of the music and absently singing along beneath your breath.

Gods the place really is heaving tonight. Seems every square inch is filled with thrill-seekers and trouble-makers alike. You slink through the narrow gaps left between bodies as a salmon would between riverbed weeds; fighting a current you’re built to withstand, but that pushes against you nonetheless.

You round the corner and begin to make your way past the row of private booths which line the final approach to Silco’s stairwell. Each alcove is fitted with a central table, two ox-blood leather back benches, and is dimly illuminated by a singular, moody chem-sconce mounted on the rear wall. Thick, three-quarter length curtains of deep plum velvet adorn either side of every entrance should those within require a little more discretion, and although they are only drawn across a handful of booths tonight, it seems that each one is occupied regardless.

You mind your own business; pointedly ignoring the illicit objects strewn across each table as you pass. Cards, drinks, drugs, money, weapons—

Quick as an asp, a hand shoots out from inside the penultimate booth, latching onto your arm and yanking you unceremoniously through the closed drapes. You land heavily in someone’s lap with a surprised shriek that quickly transforms into a spitting snarl as you twist, fist raised to strike your assailant. But once again he’s faster; snatching your wrist and halting it mid-swing.

The limited light dispels the gloom just enough for you to register a devious, sharp-cut smirk, and a glinting pair of mischievous eyes; one of sea-foam green, and the other of forge-fire orange.

“Asshole,” you hiss emphatically, even as you sag in boneless relief; spine moulding to the familiar shape of Silco’s front and head lolling back to rest atop his shoulder as you attempt to slow your stampeding heart-rate.

An arrogant little chuckle rumbles beside your ear, and Silco wastes absolutely no time in making the precise reason for your abduction abundantly clear. 

His arms wind around you, pawing none-to-subtly across your breasts and stomach as he gathers you into a possessive embrace that grinds your ass insistently down atop his clothed erection.

Your sharp inhale catches in your throat, before expelling as a sultry laugh. You drop your cheek against the luxurious softness of Silco’s collar, bringing your lips to his ear to be heard above the relentless din of the club beyond the curtains.

“ Shit Silco,” you praise, voice a throaty purr to accompany the appreciative roll of your hips, “Been in here all alone gettin’ yourself hot and bothered?”

He drops a hard, proprietorial kiss to your throat, and his knees slip together between yours and begin to push them slowly, purposefully apart – unashamedly spreading your legs at his own leisure. Your feet dangle a half an inch off the floor from your boosted seat upon his lap, leaving you entirely at the mercy of the large palms which drag a tantalising promise up the insides of your thighs.

“I’ve been 'hot and bothered’ since you sauntered out of my office earlier wearing this indecent scrap of fabric.”

He arrives at the hem of your skirt and plucks reproachfully at the material to emphasise his point.

Your teeth prick your lower lip as he runs the seam between fingers and thumbs, knuckles skimming across your skin to the outside of your thighs before tracing back inwards again – a sensual, goosebump-raising metronome of touch that further stokes the molten heat oozing steadily outwards from your core.

“It’s called a skirt .”

Silco’s scarred lips shift infinitesimally, casting a hidden smirk into the trench above your collarbone, and you tip your head further back with a sigh, baring your throat to the heavens as his tongue runs down the swallow-tail of your clavicle to pinch a biting kiss to the top of your sternum.

“Surely not,” he drawls, dragging his mouth up the thrumming artery at the side of your neck to speak directly against the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. The horizontal graze of his knuckles diverts to a vertical drag that lifts the material of said skirt up over your hips to bunch around your waist, leaving your underwear as the only barrier separating you from his lap (if a thong can indeed be considered a barrier in the first place), “It barely covers you.”

“You don’t like it? I thought it rather suited me,” you sulk playfully, swirling your ass in a provocative figure of eight.

He grunts softly at the movement, before nipping at your neck in sharp penalty for misbehaving. Not that the punishment achieves anything other than driving your pelvis down harder atop the strain in his pants with a needy little gasp of your own.

“That isn’t at all what I said,” he croons in your ear. One hand sneaks up under your shirt to sketch cruel, taunting sickles on the undersides of your breasts, whilst the other slips a scant inch beneath the band of your underwear to tease the lowest reaches of your belly with light, ticklish strokes, “I think my opinions on this particular item of clothing are rather evident. Wouldn’t you say? I haven’t been able to focus on my work since you left.”

“And so you thought you’d come down here and interrupt my work instead of taking care of things yourself like a big boy?”

“ You caused this problem,” his fingers dip lower, skimming the periphery of your clit in three sadistic loops before continuing down to nudge at your slick-soaked entrance, “I think it only fair that you fix it.”

Your breathing shallows, lungs bound by the tightening noose of arousal clamping hot and heavy around every sense you possess. Your nails dig into burgundy sleeved forearms and your gaze darts towards the pervious swath of fabric that separates you from the mingling crowds just beyond. Yours and Silco's boots are already visible to anyone who might bother to look down, and the salacious arrangement of legs and footwear is hardly subtle.

“Aren’t you worried we’ll be caught? That people will find out about us?” You ask, even as you tilt your hips towards the promise of his fingers.

His chest rumbles against your spine; a low growl laced with an impatience that thrills you.

“You know just as well as I the numerous sins committed under this roof each night,” he insists, dark and gravelled, gluttonous hands dragging their way back to your hips, “I am certain that everyone will be far too busy with their own misdeeds to pay any attention to ours. Up,” he instructs with a brusque, stinging smack to the side of your bare buttock.

You obey instantly, gripping the edge of the table in front of you and pulling your weight up and forwards to hover above his lap. Balancing en pointe like some inelegant ballerina in your clunky Undercity boots. Silco’s sleeves brush the backs of your thighs as he tears at the buttons on his trousers beneath you. 

“Were you always this horny before I came along?” You call over your shoulder, just loud enough for him to hear over the teeth-rattling drum and bass.

“Not since I was a teenager,” he rips your underwear aside and guides you back with a hand on your hip until you’re suitably poised for him to lewdly drag the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself with the evidence of your own lust. “Such is the effect you have on me.”

“Oh Gods,” you huff, half amused and half thick-throated desire, “Please don’t say that ‘I make you feel young again’ .”

“Again?” 

You offer a cheeky, heavy-lidded smirk.

“On the contrary, sweetheart, ” he continues with a sharp yank at your hips that has you sinking down onto him oh so sweetly , “You very much make me feel like a man.” He punctuates his statement with the upwards snap of his pelvis – meeting you halfway and burying himself to the hilt. 

The leather upholstery creaks beneath you both as you melt back against Silco’s chest. The hedonistic whine which falls from your lips a soulful counter-melody to the vacuous blast of the club music. No matter how many times he’s inside you, there’s a perfect divinity in the way you fit together that never fails to leave you breathless.

Silco’s arms encircle you once more, hugging you tight against his front with a ragged sigh of relief that stirs the fine hairs at your temple. Easing you into the thick stretch of him with slow, rolling thrusts that have your head tipping blissfully back atop his shoulder.

Your eyelids lower beneath the bewitching weight of his mouth pressing down the slope of your neck. Tongue curling hot and wet over skin in soothing licks even as he sucks flaming marks upon your throat. Claiming you. Painting you red and purple to match the lighting which slinks beneath the curtains in pulsing flashes.

The limited space between the table and bench restricts your movements a considerable amount. But you make do with any and all leverage available to you. Arching your spine to optimise the rock of your pelvis. Reaching back to curl fingers around the nape of Silco’s neck, to slide your palm down his tailored waist to the hinge of his hip, thumb slotting perfectly into the crease of his groin beneath your ass. Using the thickened toes of your boots and your Sump-Snipe thigh strength to slide yourself up and down the heat of his shaft if only an inch or two.

Not that you’re in any way complaining about such a gloriously deep-seated fuck.

Your head spins, caught in the whirlpool of sensation sweeping through your mind and body. The relentless pump of the music and unintelligible drone of a hundred voices pressing in all around you. Silco’s breath dampening your skin and the ravenous drag of his teeth and tongue and lips against any part of you his mouth can reach. The strobing lights which throw the world into sin-addled darkness only to rip it back to crimson brilliance a split second later like an eternal, ceaseless tug-of-war. The obscene feel of him filling you up so completely only intensifies with each upward buck of his hips.

Electric anticipation gathers like static around every nerve and synapse with each flawless grind of his cock against the trembling plush of your walls. Forever in amazement at how the shape of him seems so faultlessly crafted to knead all the sweetest spots inside you no matter the position you find yourselves in.

Erotic and scorching is the hand that once more slides up under your shirt to roll a pebbled nipple between thumb and forefinger. Your hitching gasp elicits a velvet hum of approval at your ear – a sound which lengthens and pitches down into something husky and bestial to accompany the splay of Silco’s other hand upon your lower tummy, pressing hard to feel for himself just how deeply he’s sheathed inside you.

“Always such a good girl for me,” he murmurs beneath your sharp inhale – high and ragged and pleading thanks to the pressure of his palm forcing your g-spot more firmly against the continuous burrowed-slide of his cock. “Always so obliging, despite that smart little mouth of yours.”

A soft, whimpering sob spills unbidden from between the pliant seam of your lips.

“What was that, darling?” He releases your nipple, hand smoothing up your sternum to emerge through the collar of your shirt. Palm blanketing your windpipe, fingers and thumb closing either side of your throat, “Were you agreeing with me? Are you my good girl?”

Your attempt to nod is crippled by the tightening of his grip, constricting your arteries just enough to heighten your already dizzying pleasure and to convey his unspoken instruction crystal clearly.

“Yes,” you babble skyward, head pressing further back into the sharp-boned pillow of his shoulder and voice rising as you’re driven closer to climax with each deep-seated thrust, “Ye- ss. I’m g- such a good girl for you. Puh- please. Silco— ”

“Shhhh,” he hushes, smooth as velour and arrogant as a king, releasing your neck to slide his middle and index finger over the crest of your chin and into your mouth, pinning your tongue flat. “We wouldn’t want anyone finding out your dirty little secret, hm?”

The hand on your tummy shifts too, dexterous pads sliding south to massage your clit in progressively quickening circles whilst his thumb remains solidly pressed above your pubic bone. Your pelvis jerks, even as your lips close around his fingers and suck with a greedy, muffled whine .

“What would they all think?” Silco growls, carnal grit colouring his words and dismantling his usual debonair grace, “If they knew that you let the Eye of Zaun fuck you however he pleases? When and wherever he pleases?”

You moan around his fingers, trapped tongue crudely lavishing the salt of his skin as much as you’re able. The movement of your hips now less of a practiced roll and more of a desperate writhe as you chase the promise of blinding pleasure that’s barrelling towards you. The pressure of his thumb relentless. His fingertips a blur upon your clit. Every cell in your body tightening, bracing for impact. All of it so impossibly intense that the corners of your eyes prick with zealous tears and you aren’t sure if the flesh you're driving your nails into is Silco’s or your own.

“Not only that – but that you’re spread and dripping for him at a moment's notice? That you love it?” He snarls, planting a harsh kiss to the hinge of your jaw and breathing you in deep. Scarred lips lingering against your skin and voice softening to a rasped whisper, “That you love him?”

You shatter. 

Mouth flying open in a silent cry; caught and trapped in your chest by the paralysing force of your orgasm. Every tendon and muscle beneath your skin straining agonisingly taut, mortal body locked in place but mind and soul soaring with indescribable pleasure, rupturing through you in throbbing bursts. 

And that is the tempo you lose yourself to, not the rhythmic beat of the jukebox. Dazzled not by club strobes but by blinding stars . Swept away upon euphoric swells which lick warm and wet through every inch of you.

Gone. Adrift. For a lifetime. Or for mere seconds.

Coaxed back to lucidity by a low-toned voice.

“Are you with me, sweetheart?”

Your lashes flutter, vision clearing, settling. Unravelled body slack within the arms of another. Spine supported against a long, lithe torso. Chest heaving with laboured breaths. 

A pair of fingers slip from your mouth, trailing wet beneath your jaw, down the column of your throat.

“Yes,” you croak, exquisitely wrung out, dropping your cheek towards Silco and gazing up at him through drooped lashes.

He scans your face, his hips having slowed to a gentle, absent rock beneath your backside – ensuring you’re alright before even contemplating seeking his own release.

But Gods you can see how he needs it. 

And you can see exactly what it is that he’s so sorely craving from the wild, animal edge in his eyes. A specific desire he no longer submits to without your endorsement.

Lucky for him, then, that you take such pride in being his good girl.

“Do it,” you pant, “I can take it—”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Your insides lurch with the sudden motion of Silco shooting to his feet and hauling you with him. Not granted even a split second to find your bearings before the table comes rushing to meet you – or rather you it. The impact of your torso against the surface forces all the air from your lungs in one brutal rush, and your boots scrabble upon the booze-sticky floor to secure your footing before the beast at your back really goes to town.

Your palms squeak against the wood, top and skirt bunching ever higher as Silco seizes your hips and yanks you backwards into each vicious thrust. Driving into you with a merciless velocity that out-paces even the rhythmic pump of the music.

Mindless. Savage. Immaculate.

Silco fucks you totally and utterly dumb . Mouth hanging open, nonsensical sounds moaned directly into the wood beneath your cheek. What little strength remains in your quivering muscles is channelled directly towards arching your spine to send him plunging deeper.

You don’t even need to look to feel the laser burn of his eyes raking hot over your cock-drunk expression. Scorching down your spine. Setting your cunt ablaze as he watches himself piston in and out. Scratching this carnal itch that arises from time to time despite your partnership. Power. Dominance. Control.

Even over the unceasing clamour of the club you can hear the susurrant hiss of Silco’s breath pushing through bared teeth above you. Serrated grunts of exertion and depraved satisfaction that are far more gratifying to your ear than any music could ever be.

His vise-like fingers release your hips; blood rushing to flood the bruises he’s undoubtedly left upon your skin and restoring sensation to your numbed flesh. One hand shifts to the dip of your waist whilst the other hooks over the top of your shoulder. He bends close, his body heat a sweat-inducing shroud and the pound of his hips slowing in speed but not in ferocity. High, aquiline bridge of his nose pressing into your temple as he uses his grip on you to drive himself impossibly deep. Impossibly hard. Rattling the entire table beneath you with each pointed, barbaric thrust.

And you’re so utterly lost to Silco’s amorous frenzy that you’re completely blind-sighted by your second orgasm; spearing through you unexpected and sharp. Violent, blinding rays of bliss that send tears streaming over your lashes.

The feverish, pulsing clench of your sex pulls a coarse, ragged groan from the depths of Silco’s lungs as he too climaxes with staggering force. Sheathing himself completely, grinding deep, flooding you with decadent, throbbing warmth. Hips rocking steadily slower until he’s simply seated inside you, completely spent.

Your ribcage swings with fast, laboured breaths. Silco’s heavy panting stirs your ruffled hair, tickling your sweat-soaked neck.

His hands soften and smooth tenderly down your sides.

“Are you alright sweetheart?”

You nod, cheek still pressed into the surface of the table.

“You’re certain? I didn’t hurt you?”

You reach behind you to cup his face, thumb swiping along the hinge of his jaw in reassurance. Short of breath, and wielding a thick, clumsy tongue, “Yes I— I’m fine, Sil. I’m— Janna’s tits that was fucking incredible.”

Silco releases a lengthy exhale, allowing himself to fully relax atop you – slim body a welcome, comforting weight and the blade of his nose grazing affectionately behind your ear. Large, warm palms worship you in slow, roving strokes that have your muscles melting . Soothing your bruised hips. Trailing down the outsides of your thighs and over the swell of your backside. Caressing up your spine. Sweeping along arms. Brushing back messy hairs from your face with his knuckles. All of it so heartbreakingly gentle.

“You are—” he begins breathlessly, losing his words with a shake of his head and a quiet, awestricken huff. Planting soft kisses upon the skin of your jaw, lips brushing warm towards the corner of your mouth between low, earnest words, “Perfect. My beautiful, wonderful, perfect girl.”

You purr, happy and content, basking in his warmth and affection.

You grumble, petulant and sulky, when he disappears without warning. 

“Bagh,” you complain. Scowling over your shoulder but remaining stubbornly recumbent on the table whilst he slips from you; long, sharp face pinching in a fleeting grimace. He sweeps a gentle, assessing thumb around your entrance, and once he’s satisfied that you’re truly unharmed he tucks himself away and conjures a clean napkin from a hidden pocket.

You snort softly against the wood, “Came prepared I see,” you mumble, “Cocky prick.”

Silco doesn’t lift his gaze, nor pause in his dutiful cleaning of your thighs and the apex between them – merely gestures towards his ear with a small shake of his head.

“Your hearing is freakishly good and you know it.”

The very corner of his mouth quirks, and his eyes tick up to meet yours.

Swift and deft as a fox, the soiled napkin is discarded, your clothing is fixed, and his warmth returns as he brings his mouth to your ear.

“Can you stand?”

You shift your hands beneath you and press yourself slowly upright, Silco’s palms a comforting presence on your waist.

You straighten. 

And your legs promptly buckle.

But of course Silco is ready to catch you; arms wrapping easily around your middle with a low chuckle.

“Weak at the knees, darling?”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so dreamy, ” you swoon over your shoulder, batting your lashes for good measure.

His eyes glitter with silent mirth and he scoops you up, sitting back down on the bench with you tucked close against him – legs swung over his lap, head pillowed upon his collar, and nose grazing the perfumed silk knot of his tie.

From the first moment you met Silco, the rest of the world has always had a habit of simply melting away whenever you’re with him. Even now, the thunderous motley of music and nightlife feels like little more than background noise beneath the steady, calming swell of his lungs beneath your cheek. The spilt booze and body odour of the club negated completely by cigars and cologne. Strobing lights nary a bother behind the contented droop of your eyelids.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Silco murmurs, shaking you gently, “When you’re able to walk we’ll get you upstairs.”

You whimper longingly into his shirt, “I can’t leave Jasper in the lurch. Not tonight. The club’s rammed.”

“I’ll send Thieram to cover the rest of your shift.”

“You sure? You can spare him?”

“I’m sure.”

You smile, snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck with a happy little hum, “Whoever said that dating your boss was a bad idea?”

“Certainly not me. I did, however, say not to get too comfortable.”

“Too late.”

His chest depresses in a long-suffering sigh, but he gathers you closer in his arms regardless, and drops a kiss to your hair. 

You remain quietly entwined together for a short while, sharing just as private and intimate a moment as those which preceded it. Curtained off from the rest of the world.

“Silco?”

“Hm?”

“I wouldn’t care, you know. If people found out about us.”

The fingers which had been sketching lazy circles to the outside of your thigh come to a stop. There’s a moment’s pause, before he answers carefully, “This is how it has to be. To keep you safe.”

“I know,” you sigh, lifting your head from his shoulder to properly meet his gaze. Fiddling with the gold trim of his waistcoat as you speak softly, earnestly, “So long as you know… That loving you – Silco – it isn’t some terrible secret I’m eager to keep.”

He releases a long exhale, shoulders sinking and lips thinning ruefully. There’s an apology in his eyes. One you don’t allow him the chance to voice.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him gently, capturing his face between your palms, “I just want you to know that if I had bragging rights… I’d use ‘em.” 

You brush a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips. And another when he gives chase – hand sliding to cup the back of your neck. Mouth pressing just a little deeper against yours. Tongue tips lightly brushing in a way that sends your stomach swooping.

Lips part, and foreheads join. His thumb circles tenderly over your pulse beneath your jaw.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

You smile, small and soft, “It’s so nice to hear you ask that in a good way for a change.”

He huffs the smallest of laughs, tucking some rogue hairs back behind your ear, “Come on, let’s head up.”

You blink owlishly at him.

He clicks his tongue, “In a minute then,” he relents.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said,” you murmur, happily tucking yourself once more into the crook of his neck.

[lipstickstainedred]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must pick one fictional babe and share a hoe thought including the prompts: sleepy + quiet purr of satisfaction. 😏 Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes & your legs 😘

God bless the Hoe fairy for visiting me on my favorite day… SINDAY. You know I just had to write my favorite fictional babe… Steve Rogers. I simp for that man so hard. I didn’t even know it was physically possible to have your panties drenched on a regular basis by a fictional character until Captain America.

This is my first time doing a drabble or hoe thought so I hope I did alright with this. Happy Sinday Siri!!!

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 451

Warnings: fluff, Smut (18+ readers only), oral sex (f receiving), maybe somnophilia if you squint

Steve had always liked waking up beside you, that being the main reason he asked you to move in with him. You had been hesitant at first, only having been together for a little short of a year. You enjoyed your own space and was accustomed to your tiny little apartment. Sure, Steve’s Brooklyn home was far nicer and bigger, but you didn’t mind your rinky-dinky place in Queens.

However, overtime the Avenger had persuaded you. He convinced you that living together was the next logical step in your already thriving relationship. Besides, you practically already lived together with the amount of time you spent at his place or vice versa.

Plus, you loved waking up next to Steve. He was always the sweetest first thing in the morning when you would wake up beside him.

Since moving in together, your alarm clock had developed a thin layer of dust from its unused state. Steve loved waking you up in the morning. Whether that being from bringing you breakfast in bed or from his face between your thighs, he wanted to be at the start of your day.

Today was one of those mornings that his craving was not for a hot cup of coffee. His craving was for you.

The early morning light was shining through the curtains as you groggily came to. You sleepily moaned as you slowly became all too aware of Steve’s face between your legs. His ministrations, must have been going on for quite some time while you were asleep because you were dripping with desire and already close to the edge.

His rough hands held your hips down against the silk sheets, preventing you from moving away from the onslaught of pleasure his mouth was delivering to you. You instinctively grabbed his blonde locks pulling him closer to your sex as you arched your back begging for your release.

A quiet purr of satisfaction left Steve as he obliged with your unspoken request. He began to work you over harder, lapping and sucking on your sensitive nub until the all too familiar feeling bloomed in your core.

You cried out his name, breathy moans leaving your mouth as your orgasm washed over you. Your breath was shallow and labored as you came down from your high. You looked down at Steve, as he lifted his face from between your thighs. A small smile on his lips, you couldn’t help but blush at the moisture that surrounded his mouth and chin.

“Good Morning, sweetheart.” He whispered, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration in his blue eyes.

You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips, it certainly was a good morning.

[galahdanwildflower]

"Darling. What are your plans for the day?"

{ @oldamicitia }

A kiss onto his lips as a greeting before she goes on to hide her smirk with a hand. 

“Hmm, I suppose I have this to-do list that I should get to eventually.” She pretends to peer onto a slip of paper that has absolutely nothing written on it. “Oh look, the only thing I’ve written down: Clarus Amicitia.”

[auty-ren]

Congrats on 900!!! And Happy Birthday 🥳🥳🥳 I was thinking about a fluffy (maybe smutty if you so chose) Din drabble or hcs where the reader was kidnapped for not giving the child up and Din rescues them. So maybe the aftermath of that, and neither one have admitted their feelings yet but it all comes to a head when they get back to safety. And congrats again 🥰🥰🥰

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: canonical violence, trauma, mentions of sex

A/n: Wow I loved this. (Thank you babe💕)

Saved

You finally felt like you could breathe.

Everything seemed to relax at once, the tension in your muscles melting away at the familiar feel of home. You still felt so sick, your stomach turning into a pit from the emptiness that spread inside of you until it felt like your entire being was consumed by it.

You hand was shaking as you touched your face, finally becoming aware of the tears that streamed down your cheeks, their bitterness soured in your mouth like the potent taste of Trandoshan ale. You frantically rubbed then away, trying your best to erase any bad memory that was attached to them. You scrubbed at the skin of your face and neck until all you could feel was the burn left in the wake of your fingertips.

You’re not sure how long you've been alone, the cold air, and the shinning walls of the Razor Crest being your only company.

You had hoped he would've cared more.

It was foolish to think that he didn't, all things considered. He had found you, had rescued you. It had to count for something. You had been alone for what felt like weeks, in that pitiful cell, waiting for the moment they would come for you. Your fate was unknown as they dragged you away kicking and screaming just like every else who sat in the cells beside you.

But he saved you, he had to care a little. He tracked you halfway across the galaxy, and part of you couldn't understand why. There was no logical thinking behind his actions, anyone else would've left you to rot.

Then again, he was different than anyone you had ever met.

He had to care about you, or at least that's what you wanted to be true. He was all you thought of, even as you sat captor to the very people you had been running from, you worried about him. Part of you hoping he had gotten away, that he had taken the kid somewhere safe and they were living happily far from the reaches of anyone.

You'll never forget the way he looked at you. It wasn't something that you could see, but something you had felt. Something that felt so genuine, like the right pieces had finally clicked together, and the space that had been between the two of you dissipated. He had hauled you up off the dirty floor, his grip nearly bruising on your arms. Something had been said between the two of you, but it was foggy, nothing you had spoken or heard could be remembered.

But you remembered how it felt, the relief of seeing him again, you had nearly sobbed. Or maybe you had. He embraced you and it felt so warm, his arms strong as they wrapped around you, carrying you back to the Razor Crest. When the sunlight finally hit your face, you buried your face into the cowl around Din's neck, your eyes stinging from the brightness.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to remember exactly how it felt to be held by him, the scent of leather and gunpowder flooding your senses as you melted against him.

If only he was really with you.

He had sealed himself off in the cockpit, leaving you to the drowning silence in the hull of the ship. It felt pointless to try and relive moments that you're sure we're just some product of a hopeful desire that flooded you anytime Mando was around. No matter how much it would hurt later, you'd let yourself have this. You'd let yourself fall asleep to daydreams of him, your heart aching for something that seemed almost impossible to obtain

-

You still think you're dreaming when you wake up. It all felt too warm, a blanket was thrown around your shoulders that was soft to the touch. There was a ghost of touches, warm hands that grazed over your skin, brushing away your hair and rubbing gently at your cheeks. Someone was speaking to you, words that were soft and whispered like it was a secret only the walls of the Razor Crest could carry.

It was dark, a single light over the bench in the engineering bay being the only source of light. You could see Din fiddling with something, even with his back turned you could hear him cursing beneath his breath, sparks flying off his cuirass as he repaired it. You sat up, the rickety cot squeaking beneath you as you shifted your weight. Din turns towards you, sitting up a little straighter, just watching you.

"Are you alright?"

He finally broke the silence, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything. You stared at your hands as they fell in your lap, your fingers playing with the edge of the blanket you wore.

Is this my blanket?

It felt different, at least you don't think you had seen it before but it became a distant thought. Din caught your attention, he slowly moved from his seat across the room, coming to sit on the edge of your cot.

He only wore his underclothes, a simple black tunic, and trousers. If it weren't for the beskar helmet he almost would look...normal? In all the time you had traveled with him, you don't ever remember him being this exposed. Sometimes it was hard to remember that under the layers of beskar he was just a man.

A man that you were sure you loved more than anything.

And now he was just a hairbreadth away, but you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. You don't know why you said anything, why you felt the need to pour salt into a still fresh wound, but you did. Your voice shaking and weak as you spoke to him.

"Why did you come back for me?"

He was silent, and you regretted every word that fell from your lips. Although you wanted an answer you would give anything to get him to speak again, to have everything go back to the way it was; comfortable but always longing for something more. You wanted to sneak away, to put distance between the two of you before you burst from the tension in the room.

"You're kidding, right?"

He seemed genuine like there was something that baffled him about the situation. You just looked at him, greeted by the familiar darkness of his visor, hoping that in some way you were looking at him. You broke his heart, your eyes puffy and red, lip trembling as you held back whatever storm of emotion had been brewing inside of you.

"Cyar'ika, I-"

He wasn't used to this, being so vulnerable to someone; but he would try, for you. He would do anything for you, and it was time he told you that.

"Cyar'ika, I would tear the galaxy apart to get you back."

A million things were said that night, most of them the results of everything the two of you had pent up, words flowing out like water that drowned you in the most blissful feeling. He was so gentle to you like he was afraid the slightest touch would break you.

You held onto each other, your hands searching and feeling as you tried to make up for lost time, for a time when you both were in denial that you could be something more. You didn't sleep much, too afraid that if you fell asleep it would all turn out to be a dream, another story you concocted to lull yourself to sleep. When the lights finally went out, he kissed you; slow and tender as your mouths molded together. This moment would be burned in your memory, the feeling of him against you, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice as he whispered into your ear.

"I love you."

Hours passed like this, laying together on your tiny cot. The two of you didn't dare to move, until you heard a faint shriek, signaling you that the baby had woken from his pram in the cockpit. Din peeled himself away from you, promising to return with a kiss to your lips.

You could hear him walking to the upper deck, the faintest sound of a one-sided conversation filtering through the walls, and bringing a soft smile to your face.

There was nowhere you'd rather be.

Got a ‘Sinday’ thot?

Taglist:

@on-the-razor-crest @readsalot73 @roxypeanut @talesfromtheguild @vintage-silk @ben-is-a-hoe @dartheldur @el-lizzie @b0n-chann @dindisneydjarin @tangledlove27 @blueplaidhood @lackofhonor @holamor @ajediherowitchrunner @mandhoelorian @random-fandom-lady @aeryntheofficial @stubbychaos @promiscuoussatan @lark-cale @lilkermit14 @leather-mommy @zombiexbody @absurdthirst

[safarigirlsp]

Do you have any recs from some of the less popular guys? Like Pat, Ronnie, Rick, Jude, Paul, and Dan? It seems like you don’t recommend much with them?

I have a few but, as you’ve noticed, I recommend them less because I read them less. There are a couple reasons. I like rough around the edges tough guys, alpha males, and big scary men lol. Jude, Paul, and Pat don’t fit the bill for me at all right off the bat based on softness and appearance. I’d run over them in real life lol so it’s hard for me to insert myself into a reader thing with them. Also, appearance wise, they appeal to me much less, so it’s also less appealing to read something where I picture them. I’m also old lol and the younger characters aren’t nearly as attractive to me as the older ones!

I haven’t watched Tracks yet so I don’t know much about Rick other than things I’ve read. Dan and Ronnie are attractive to me, but their personalities just don’t have the zest that I’m more drawn too. I have Dan on my lineup and I’ve written a couple things with him, but he’s just not as much fun for me to read and write as other guys. Also, most of the Dan writing is centered around him being tired and busy lol! Mine included! Which makes sense, but it’s less intriguing to me personally to read.

Finally, a lot of these characters are written as subby men, which is totally valid and fine and I’m not criticizing the characterization or the writing, but subby men are very much not my thing, so I rarely read writing with subby characterization.

I hope that answers your question!

I do have some recs though! I’ve read the following, but I’d encourage you to read much more by these writers! I honestly haven’t read anything with Jude or Paul because they just don’t appeal to me, but these writers have some lovely stuff with them!

Below the cut

Rick

@jynzandtonic writes for Rick, Dan, and some great stuff for Ronnie! Many other characters as well! She’s amazing!

Seeing Rick after a long time away

https://jynzandtonic.tumblr.com/post/640242399064555520/hi-z-happy-tonic-tuesday-what-are-your-thots-on

@contesa-lui-alucard always has beautiful writing and writes for Paterson and Rick!

Snowy Shoot with Rick

https://contesa-lui-alucard.tumblr.com/post/638414236039741440/lovely-tesa-i-feel-like-rick-doesnt-get-nearly

@hopeamarsu has such beautiful writing and has a couple Rick things.

Senses Series

https://hopeamarsu.tumblr.com/post/639167522303819776/senses

@roanniom has one with Rick that’s hot!

Waiting

https://roanniom.tumblr.com/post/644330850809446400/tying-rick-down-and-riding-his-thigh-making-sure

@in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather writes for all the guys you mentioned. She has wonderful AUs and stories! Including a wedding ruiner series. You should go through her Masterlist!

For Whom the Sun Shines

https://in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather.tumblr.com/post/637239629081346048/for-whom-the-sun-shines-chapter-5

Getting Lost in Paris

https://in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather.tumblr.com/post/644673738771677184/mi-querida-can-i-ask-rick-with-getting-lost

Long Legs and Hot Toddies

https://in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather.tumblr.com/post/639301248758251520/long-legs-hot-toddies

Thigh Riding Rick

https://in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather.tumblr.com/post/638781956459577344/thigh-riding-rick

Rick meeting your family

https://in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather.tumblr.com/post/644708438741532672/rick-meeting-your-family-the-man-is-gone-so-much

Dan

@direnightshade writes for all the guys. She’s amazingly talented!

Murderer Dan

https://direnightshade.tumblr.com/post/631007177127149568/daniel-x-house-wifeserial-killer-reader-please

Dark Dan by @babbushka

https://babbushka.tumblr.com/post/629189562837680128/thank-you-for-another-sinday-i-would-love-to

Sinbound by @babbushka

https://babbushka.tumblr.com/post/639405410520055808/sinbound-18

@sacklerscumrag has some fun Dan stuff!

https://sacklerscumrag.tumblr.com/post/642710652437348352/dan-jones-x-reader-warnings-angst-i-guess

@glassbxttless has great Dan stuff and writes for the other guys you mentioned.

Take the Edge Off

https://glassbxttless.tumblr.com/post/644648115506397185/lookie-here-i-am-back-again-invading-your-inbox

@maybe-your-left has some fun Dan and Paterson stuff!

https://maybe-your-left.tumblr.com/post/644060653767819264/dan-jones-masterlist

Ronnie

Murderer Ronnie by @direnightshade

https://direnightshade.tumblr.com/post/634406144717324288/murder-ronnie-and-the-prompt-you-have-a-great

@finn-ray-nal-beads has some super fun stuff with Ronnie and Paterson!

Cherry on Top

https://finn-ray-nal-beads.tumblr.com/post/634009307036418048/heres-the-official-ask-babe-you-can-save-it-for

@the-wayward-rose has a really fun Ronnie one!

A Grave New World

https://the-wayward-rose.tumblr.com/post/183925106775/the-dead-dont-die-ronald-peterson-x-reader

@jynzandtonic is the dude for Ronnie! He’s Z’s guy and Z writes him so well!!!

This is the Way

https://jynzandtonic.tumblr.com/post/617690565788778496/this-is-the-wayofficer-ronnie-peterson-x-fem

Bad Day

https://jynzandtonic.tumblr.com/post/619574260412907520/bad-day

Holds Two Nicely

https://jynzandtonic.tumblr.com/post/615244136752332800/holds-two-nicely-part-%C2%BDofficer-ronnie-peterson-x

Paterson

@carloswilliamcarlos has wonderful Paterson stuff!!

12 Types of Kisses with Paterson

https://carloswilliamcarlos.tumblr.com/post/620392137235857408/the-12-types-of-paterson-kisses-pat-x-reader

Christmas Eve Dinner by @contesa-lui-alucard

https://contesa-lui-alucard.tumblr.com/post/638401867274240001/congratulations-i-would-love-to-hear-about-your

@mariesackler has some beautiful stuff with Paterson, Dan, and Jude!

Afterglow

https://mariesackler.tumblr.com/post/638540014610956288/im-so-sorry-im-late-to-the-requests-love-i

Mesh & Lace by @babbushka

https://babbushka.tumblr.com/post/633181212097249280/mesh-lace

Paterson & Paul

@babbushka has a bunch of stories with Paterson and Paul together. Threesome action!

Best Boys

https://babbushka.tumblr.com/post/621039723544182784/best-boys

[levered-a]

SO in the wise words of my absolute babe kenna ( @herhaunt ) I’d like to post a tiny little psa from her about calling it “ sinday ” and how we really could just call it anything else. ( sexy sunday , etc. ) :

HAPPY SUNDAY ,      here’s   your   weekly   reminder   from   kenna   that   sex   is   not   a   sin   and   the   rpc   trend   of   calling   it   sinday   is   gross   and   perpetuates   harmful   stereotypes  .      (do not reblog) consensual sex is not a sin . consensual sex is not a sin . consensual sex is not a sin .   consensual sex is not a sin .

[abreedoftheirown]

☀️ - Zane from Matt

Sinday Touches - NSFW edition @trxplehelix

     To say Zane was a lucky man when it came to finding the other half of his soul would of been a understatement. Being the son of the beastmaster made his life dangerous and unpredictable. Finding a mate who could live with had been the furthest thing from his thoughts at the time. Long story short, it was nice having someone who understood. After all, Matty was the son of a highly prominent witch family. After a day of challenges for his enforcer position along with the training of new were’s. Zane was sore and tuckered out. Even his inhuman endurance and healing wasn't enough to take the knots out of his muscles. Coming home to Mathew waiting for him with nice smelling oils for a massage had done all sorts of things to him. Stomach doing a happy little flip flip, he couldn't but groan once fingers started to knead and work over his tired back muscles. Moreover, to make things ten times better, his amazing lover had even bought one of those huge subway sandwiches for him to eat during it all. Needless to say, his man knew how to take care of him. Letting out a soft groan when skilled hands worked over a sore spot, Zane nearly purred with content. “Thanks for this babe, you're too good to me.”