#sinful saturday
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Oooh for the dirty drabbles 21 for Ash (and maybe a bit of 32?)
You win. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB. PLEASE ENJOY --
heated and hollow, just how you like it [ash garver ("no exit") x fem!reader]
Summary: Here’s hoping your neighbor from down the hall with the sinfully dark eyes and the glimmering, shark-tooth smile is all smooth talk, and no action (he isn’t). I hope you don’t mind the bitterness of dark chocolate in your teeth, and that you have the chance to catch your breath – baby, you’re gonna need it. Based on the prompts “bite me,” “if you insist;” and “you wanna have sex with me” (the latter is slightly modified for flow, sorry.)
Pairing: Ash Garver [“No Exit”] x fem!reader
Word Count: 3.6k (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB) of an encounter as heady as perfume and bitter as black coffee, of viper venom in your veins, dragging your bones beneath the bounds of trouble .
Warnings: smut, so 18+ ONLY – p in v sex, unprotected sex, dubious/fearful sex (it’s dark, okay? He’s not a nice man), allusions to oral sex (fem!receiving), biting, mild choking, some degradation, coming inside (and f*cking it back in – WHO AM I). IM SO SORRY.
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It’s like this: Your neighbor Anita is perfectly pleasant. She holds the door for you when she sees you coming with arms laden with grocery bags. She brings you cookies she’s baked for your floor every holiday season. Sure, she can be a little noisy for your taste – you could do without the pulsing of your shared wall on nights she throws parties – but what neighbor was perfect?
And, speaking of her parties, she always, always invites you, no matter how many times you’ve refused in the past. Yeah, Anita is goddamned neighborly. And, honestly, you felt bad for turning her down so many times when she was just trying to be nice. You concede.
So, here you are, on a Friday night – one you would typically spend curled up on your couch with a glass of red wine and your favorite soft, stretchy joggers. Swapped out in favor of a high-waisted, front-buttoned leather skirt that your friend had insisted on you buying, and you insisted you’d never have occasion to wear. Standing in one corner of Anita’s too-hot apartment, the dimmed overhead ambience cut through with strung-up little twinkling party lights. A red Solo cup of Anita’s “famous” (she had assured you, as she pressed the cup into your hands with her mildly sticky fingers) punch, sipping every so often so as to appear busy.
What was the appropriate time to stay at these things before you left?
You’d had a day. The coffee shop near your office was closed, relegating you to the unsatisfactory bitterness of pre-prepared office coffee. You had missed lunch. You had been on the receiving end of a few choice passive-aggressive emails today. A guy had leered at you on the bus home (and no matter how much you’d wanted to snap at the creep, you didn’t have a death wish.) And to top it all off, you arrived home just in time to remember that you had agreed days before to be at this party, when you’d much rather relax in silence in your bathtub, in your home – you know, where your stuff was and where other people weren’t.
And as you glanced around the room of packed-in partygoers (most of whom you assumed were friends of Anita’s), you made eye contact with him.
Him.
Your neighbor from the opposite end of the hall. You were quick to glance away out of self-preservation, lest he think you were staring, while you tried to place a name to an admittedly devastating face.
What was his name? Andy? Adam? Something with an A…
“Hi,” a tanned hand entered your periphery, interrupting your musings and shaking you from your reverie. If you hadn’t been so busy worrying about remembering your neighbor’s name, you might have noticed that he made his way over to you, now standing before you with a hand waiting expectantly for you to shake. “I’m Ash.”
Ash. That was it.
You gave him your hand and your name, trying not to belay any of the molten gold rushing through you at the way your hand felt so warm in his (was that just the heat of the room, or was it him?), or at the way your name sounded from his lips as he repeated it back to you, before sidling to your side and taking a drink from his own cup, dark, glimmering eyes taking you in over the rim, never leaving you.
"I know," he admitted, leaning into your space to do it, lips just shy of your ear – and, in all honesty, probably too familiar for someone who had just introduced himself to you. Even if you saw him most every day.
"Know what?" You query. And really, you'd only been here for a bit, but the combination of the dim lights, the music, the punch, and now the man in front of you was doing a bit of a number on your better senses, heated and hazy.
"Your name," he smiled. Although, smile would imply congeniality, grace. The show of teeth was flattering, charming, brilliant, even on his angular face. But it wasn't… friendly.
A Cheshire's grin, sinful and smirking. Potentially predatory, pernicious and pithy. Almost… pornographic, really, if you associated sexual attraction with flashing warning lights.
And, you supposed, you had seen him seeing you, week after week, by the mailboxes. Out of the corner of your eye, like a shadow looming, before you slip back into your apartment. Unsettling. As if he was hoping to catch something of your correspondence, what packages you received from week to week. Something about you.
"And what else do you know?" You breezed, taking another sip of the sickly-sweet concoction, appraising the man before you – his inky dark curls shining in the low light, the flirtation of a solitary curl teasing and tempting along his forehead.
“I know that you wanna get out of here,” Ash’s voice was a little too smooth, a little too easy, still crowding you in the dark corner you were occupying. He paid you the courtesy of the swooping up-and-down of obsidian, oilslick eyes roving your form, biting his lip in brief pause before continuing. “You put on that skirt, but you keep eyeing the door like you can’t wait to make a break for it.”
“Parties aren’t really my thing,” you conceded, turning to place your now-empty cup down on any available surface, when Ash’s arm met the wall beside your head, boxing you in and invading your senses with the woodsy smell of his aftershave.
“So you do wanna get out of here,” his eyes flicked from yours down to your lips. “How about it? With me?”
So, now, what did you know? You knew that he was smooth. He eased his way through conversations with your neighbors, through the building’s common spaces, with a facile air hat urges the edge of something, something like “charm, but practiced,” as though he had studied how to smile. How to seem just-so. And, like you said, always, always on the edge of your peripheral vision.
And maybe… maybe … maybe if you weren’t a drink-on-an-empty-stomach deep, and if your gut wasn’t already in knots at the heat coursing through you, you might have been more wary of him. Had overheard him once telling the old lady across from him that he was “originally from San Fran,” when you knew that no self-respecting California native ever referred to it that way – it was always “SF,” or “The City.”
But Ash’s lips on the shell of your ear were causing your skin to tingle to your toes – you nevertheless clung to your better senses by the very tips of your fingers when you replied with a snort,
“Oh, bite me,” you rejoined, a playful roll of your eyes so as not to too-deeply offend.
His responding grin was fully-predatory now, glimmering and shining teeth … waiting to devour.
“If you insist,” he purred.
And Ash does not just devour. (At least not yet.) Ash overwhelms, like a capsizing wave, the way he ushers you through your neighboring apartment door – crowding you in with strong arms and a solid frame in your interior hallway, pulling at your lips with his own, nipping your lower lip between those hunter’s teeth, groaning at the feel of you as he pressed a warm thigh between yours, parting your legs.
His hands are warm on the peaks of your cheeks as they trail down to the hollow of your throat, tugging at the loose collar of your oversized sweater, taking in the flash of your crimson bra adorning your bare shoulder.
“Aw, Cherry,” he breathed, the new moniker spilling from him as his full lips pressed to your neck. “That’s a pretty little piece of red.”
He shucks the sweater from you, exposing your chest encased in the red lace to his narrowed, glittering gaze, drawing a heated hand down to your thigh and beneath your skirt, up, up, up to meet the clothed heat of your center, taking in the gasping part of your lips at his touch, your response garnering a smirk from him before devouring your lips with his own.
Ash maneuvered you through your living space to your bedroom as though he’d been there before – and how was that possible? What should have unsettled you tipped out of your head as Ash’s mouth fused to yours, his fingers roving purposefully along your clothed slit before he guides you back onto your bed. Thoroughly melted, despite not even having really touched you.
“C’mon, Cherry,” Ash goaded, withdrawing his hand from your center, looking down his nose at you, and smirking at your resulting whimper, “I’ll touch you if you tell me you really want it.”
And in the low light of your bedroom, you could swear his inkwell eyes, though heated, were empty – as though he was seeing you without really seeing you, taking in every inch of you with jet-black gaze and sinful touch alike as he roved covetous fingers over your form, drawing whimpers from your throat.
And, if you were keeping track, this would be well-past strike three. But who could keep track when he was touching you like that? – Still …
“I – I don’t even know you,” you sighed as his hands cupped your tits through the lace of your red bra, heated thumbs tweaking your nipples.
“No,” Ash hummed his agreement as he swarmed over you again, drawing the bridge of his nose across your throat, lips following to trail the fine line of your neck, feeling the hum of your pulse beneath his lips. “But you still wanna fuck me. I see you, pretty girl,” his lips press again to the column of your throat.
His hands are beneath your skirt again, shucking it up to expose your panties, half-hard already at the sight of you, in what is now clearly a matching set – all wrapped up like a gift for him. And maybe, just maybe, if he’d had his way, he would tie you up with a bow. And the thought of tying you up, the sweet, quiet little thing from down the hall – all gasping breaths from full lips, all wide, doe eyes – was sinful. And Ash was no stranger to sin.
“Y-yeah?” you sighed, rolling your hips to place yourself more fully in Ash’s greedy hands, encouraging him to guide your panties down your legs.
“I see you down the hall,” a kiss to your throat.
“I see you in the elevator with your head down,” a kiss to your chest, a little tease of tongue behind it, as though he were tasting the beat of your heart, the pulse of you.
“I see you waiting,” And he’s maneuvered down your body, between your legs, pressing full-mouthed kisses to the skin behind your knees. "Waiting for someone to come along and give it to you how you like it… how you need it."
And when had he lost his sweatshirt? His shirt? You take him in, now, eyes blown at his words, as he kisses his way up your legs, toward your aching center, his fingers following the blazing trail of his lips.
Ash’s fingers slide along your glistening slit, a perpetual tease, as he continues to press full kisses to the insides of your thighs, the firm line of his jaw sharp against your skin like a heated blade.
And you’re basking in it, reveling at the feel of his thick fingers teasing your center, gathering your wetness and playing you like a game he knows so well. (And how would that be??) When –
You yelp at the jolt of pain, as the softness of his lips against your inner thigh is abruptly gone, replaced with a painful scrape of teeth.
He had bitten you?!
You reach down to jerk Ash’s head from between your legs, moving your hips back and withdrawing at the hard bite he had rendered to your inner thigh. You glance down to see an imprint of teeth marks on the tender skin there.
“Wh-what the hell?” you demanded, “Too hard!”
“Sorry,” Ash bit, sounding not one ounce of sorry, cooly shrugging one bare, sculpted shoulder at your angry face. “You said to bite you, Cherry.” He smirked again, his face a puzzle of mismatched emotions as his bourbon eyes swirled with what looked like penitence, urging your forgiveness in their sincerity. While his mouth continued to play you with its soulless smirk.
Red flag number… what was it now?? Just who was this guy?
And dd his mouth only know how to quirk in that one sinful, maddening way?
He rocked forward on his knees, and you felt him then, fully hard in his jeans against your naked center, crowding you once more as he cupped the base of your jaw, fingers spidering back to tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, eyes finding yours once more before kissing you.
Now his lips were penitent. Kissing your lips raw, like the scrape of crystallized honey – once smooth.
Breathless, your heart stuttering, Ash pulls away, admiring your lips swollen from the nip-and-tug of his teeth, admiring your starry, lust-blown eyes with the heavy lids, the whole of you undone by his lips and his fingers, and he demands. Demands more. Wants you to need him as much as he desires to control you, the ache in him twisting like a knife between his ribs. The ache in you, fluttering and flush. He wants you to want it, to need it.
“Do it again?" He asks, busying himself with undoing his jeans and sliding them down his own legs, along with his boxer briefs. exposing more and more of his golden skin to your gaze before turning those obsidian-smoke eyes back to your piteous form, heated and wet for him.
You quirked a brow, "Do what?"
"Pull my hair, Cherry," Ash replied leaning back over you once more to envelop you, a rolling shadow. A facile and firm wave, content to drown you in him. "Hard as you want."
And you're only too happy to oblige, moaning at the roll of Ash's hips into yours, his length sliding along your slit, weaving hour fingers through his curls and tugging – your reward a deep, desirous groan into your mouth as Ash slides his lips along yours, open-mouthed and wanting.
And he’s got you tied up in knots – figuratively, that is. Though you had the sneaking suspicion that if you’d vocalized any iteration of this, he’d only be too happy to do just that. And the thought of your shady neighbor tying your wrists to your own headboard shouldn’t make you wet. Shouldn’t make you groan while he’s kissing you, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste your reciprocal moans.
With a decided roll of his hips, he's inside of you, the drag of him heavy as he begins to thrust. He skates his palms along your legs, wrapping his hands around your thighs to hoist them up around his waist, satisfied when you lock your ankles around him.
He rewards you with a decidedly brutal thrust, pleased at the gasp it tears from your lungs.
He allows his hands to travel further upwards, to grip the leather skirt still bunched around your hips, using it as leverage to lift your hips and guide you, fucking you back onto his own cock at the frenzied pace he's set.
It's almost overwhelming how just everywhere he feels, the drag of him inside of you heavy. The strange astrology of him, of your pairing, as he fucks you like you're a stranger to yourself.
Your headboard, you note faintly, is thumping against your wall in time with Ash's ministrations, but you're too out-of-body to care, the sound falling hollowly on your ears as the rest of your skin tingles and warms with in tandem with the building pleasure inside of you. You've never been more grateful for one of Anita's parties. Certain that no one on the other side of the shared wall could hear the headboard through the pulsing bass, could hear the hiccuping moans slipping from your lips.
And Ash must've had the same thought, his lips twisting as he rolls his hips, tearing his eyes from the sight of your now-heaving tits, to appreciate the headboard snapping against your lavender-painted bedroom wall.
Cute.
"D'ya think they can hear you, babe?" He croons mockingly, rolling forward and planting his hands on either side of your head, a heated roll of his hips causing a brush against your clit at this new angle. "Do you want them to?"
You shook your head mildly, the pleasure-pain at Ash's rough, repeated thrusts causing a blur in your eyes.
He's pleased at this, you note, whether it was your honesty or a blushing stroke to his own ego, Ash smiles again. All resplendent radiance that seemed so right on such a wrong face.
He's brushing your clit with a circling thumb, you note absently, and when had he shifted again?
"That's right," he murmurs to you, leaning forward to lick a line down your neck while he continues to rub your clit. "Only I get to hear you scream. No one else."
With a renewed vigor, his thrusts continue, his attention on your clit almost punishing now, punching the air from your lungs in a strangled moan that did, indeed, sound like a shuttered scream. Music to Ash's ears, like breaking glass, jagged and desperate.
You were a wreck now, your arousal dripping down Ash's cock. The skin of your thigh burning where he had bitten you was now rubbing repeatedly against the taut skin of his waist.
“Look at that,” Ash cooed, his voice a whiskey murmur of smoky haze into your ear, cupping your cheek as he used his thumb to drag the tears that had pricked in the corners of your eyes along your lower lash-line and beneath your eye, causing your eye makeup to smear and smudge. “Did you know how fucking pretty you are when you cry? When I make a mess of you?”
He pressed his lips to your other cheek, dragging them along your heated skin and down to your mouth.
“No,” he murmured into your lips, catching your lower one between his full ones, chasing with teeth enough to lightly pull the plush of your bottom lip, “nonono… of course you don’t. You’re only pretty like this for me.”
And, maybe you were addicted, now, to losing your senses. To throwing caution to the wind. To jagged little shards of danger. To pretty men with pretty curls whose words spilled like oil, thick and dark, from chapped lips. And you think you may be losing a bit of yourself at the feeling of him overwhelming you – what other reason would you be fucking your neighbor who always gave you the mild heebs? Fucking you dumb into your own mattress.
You snap at a particularly clever roll of his hips, coming on Ash's cock, the wet squeeze of your walls around him has a groan spilling from his lips like snake’s venom, blazing its way from his mouth through your veins – the whites of his eyes behind fluttering lids as they roll back at the feel of you around him, spurring his own orgasm as he came inside of you.
His mouth was covetous and prideful as he kissed you again, forceful, before withdrawing himself and guiding you onto your stomach.
You were too blissed out to care, too numb, dumb, and warm from your own release that you allowed Ash to shape your bones, running a palm down the curve of your spine as he guided your hips up. Allowing those glimmering, empty eyes to take in your swollen, abused pussy – to admire the way his own release leaked from between your lips.
He gathered a bit of himself on his thumb, causing you to shiver at the touch on your sensitive skin, before bringing it to your mouth. Wordlessly, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, hollowing your cheeks and allowing your tongue to run along the length of his digit, tasting himself on his own skin. A rare thing, as you realized, distantly, he hadn't really offered you to touch him during this entire encounter.
Ash groaned again at the sight and feel of your mouth on him as he took himself, still hard, and thrust back into your pussy, fucking his own come back into you with a few lazy thrusts, met with your mewls and squirming hips.
Content that you were full of him, he withdrew again, extricating his thumb from your lips before bringing it to his own, tasting your saliva before pulling it from his lips with a pop, smiling at you again.
"Aren't you just a dream, Cherry?"
You offer a wan half-smile in return, still hazy from the feel of him smattered in tingles across your skin, like fallen stars at the end of the world, eyeing him as he begins to bustle around your room, smoothing hands over his curls and making himself presentable. Seemingly uncaring for your boneless state, legs at an odd angle, like a fucked-out doll.
“See ya ‘round, alba,” he bids, tucking himself back into his pants and starting toward your door. Leaving you with the feeling of bad, wrong, want – in his destructive wake.
“I truly hope not,” you murmur, unsure whether your words will reach Ash’s ears as he clicks open your door and begins to stride in the hallway. The ambiguity resolved for you, as you see him turn around to reward you with a blinding grin, a wall of white teeth. On a less pretty face, it likely would have served as intended – a warning. But then again, you clearly weren’t so good at heeding those when they were wrapped in handsome packages.
Oh, you were so screwed…
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#welp#here we are#unable to write a blurb to save our lives#ash no exit#danny ramirez no exit#ash garver x reader#ash no exit x reader#ash x reader#ash no exit x you#danny ramirez#danny ramirez smut#sinful saturday#thirst asks#danny ramirez x reader#no one writes for this character so uh thank anna everyone#dramirezedit#dannyramirezedit
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Wouldn’t you love to see my two-lips. 🌷 Let’s swing into spring! 🌷 Limited offer - 35% off for 31 days!
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#explore#onlyfanz#lovers#going viral#in ha mood#ebony#fangirl#lingiere#feetfinder#bongos#spring#tulips#sinful saturday
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Sinful Saturday
Since most people voted for Sinful Sunday, I shall do that, so send in your sin, my gaymers. :3
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Sorcerer’s Library
Thinking of doing some light reading.😈
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#sin with me#sinfulnesxx#sinner demon#sinningzone#sinfullygood#sinful saturday#sinful thoughts#sinful sunday#sinful desires#etsysmallbusiness#etsygifts#artists on etsy#etsyseller#etsystore#etsyshop#etsyfinds#etsy#small business#small artist#comfycore#comfy and cute#comfy#warm and comfy#comfort#unisex#hoodie
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listen. i know everyone thinks eddie gets bitches left and right (and maybe he does) but i still love the idea of him being kind of easily skiddish/flustered when someone he really really likes starts coming onto him, dont even get me started on if theyre actually gonna get it on
STOP BC I LOVE THIS!! sin saturday <3
warnings || smut!!, shy!eddie, virgin!eddie, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ only
“C-Can I?”
It seems such an innocent question, but everything about the situation was far from it. Eddie had you propped up on a coffee stained pillow and dirty band practice blanket on the floor of his van.
The air smelled of cigarettes and weed—the pungent smell flowing through and sticking to your clothes that were long gone on the floor.
His brown eyes looked at you so lovingly—so passionately as if the burning question that left off of his lips was making him go stir crazy.
And he was, because of you. You were on the floor of his van—body glistening beneath the rays of the moon. You looked so ethereal as his hands dug onto the surface of your hips.
“Yeah, Eds, please.” It was the begging that made him twitch. The begging—the please—that made him devour each and every sense of you.
He couldn’t help but kiss you so soft and feverishly as his teeth and tongue clashed against you. He whimpered against your lips at your sly hands unbuckling his jeans. “Shit—you’re so beautiful.”
And oh, you were. You were so beautiful that he’s sure he wanted this moment tattooed under his eyelids. He moaned when your hands gently caress his member—the thick veins and public hair rubbing against your wrist.
“W-wait—stop, I—I wanna be inside you, baby—please—” He chokes on nothing as your thumb swiped the tip of his cock. You smile, though, watching his shy movements and skittish smile.
You let him line himself up to you, his own eyes watching his cock split you open so slowly. You’re gripping his forearms right—nails digging into the surface of his skin. “Eddie, baby—shit—”
He was big. Really big. And yet, he didn’t even know. Nothing and no one to ever compare or share things to. He didn’t know that you weren’t sure he could even fit, definitely not until your moans continue to fill the van walls.
“Eddie, f-fuck, your cock, it’s so big, oh, eddie—” you’re cut off short by the thrust he gives. It was slow and easy, yet astonishing he hasn’t cum yet. Your wet, sticky walls are painted into his memory. Your slick that runs down to his balls will be cherished to no end.
“F-fuck, you’re grippin’ me, sweetheart. I-I-look at you. Fuckin’ beautiful with my cock inside you, yeah?”
He starts to understand a rhythm, his hips grinding straight into your pussy. His head never could choose where to look—your blissed face or your fucked out hole.
“Sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, so good. You-you—”
You gasp as you feel the thick ropes of his salty cum fill you up to the brim. He came fast and hard—moaning your name as if it was the only thing he could ever think about.
Shit, he didn’t mean to cum so early. He didn’t mean to cum until you’ve at least cum once. But, he couldn’t help himself. All he wanted was to feel you over and over and over again.
His cum still seemed endless though—your gummy walls puncturing everything inside of him. “Yeah, Eds, baby, cum in me. Yeah, that’s it, baby. S-shit you feel so good—”
He looks at you with a frown, though, still breathless from his ecstasy. “You didn’t cum.”
He wanted you to cum, to let yourself seek pleasure. He wanted his cock to rut into you until you’re both fucked out. He wanted you to cum on his cock so many times, he’s lost count.
Eddie Munson, the freak and the virgin that didn’t get any action, wanted to practically live in your pussy.
He lets the statement sit in the air, and you were truly not bothered by it much. Most guys didn’t let you cum, anyway. And for Eddie? For Eddie, you’d do anything in the world to make sure he’s happy.
“No, but that’s okay. I can—” Your mouth clamps shut at Eddie spreading your legs apart—rings cold against your skin.
“Is it okay? Can I eat you out? F-fuck, I can see my cum dripping—please—I need to lick it, please, baby—please—”
“Yes, Eds, baby, please, wanna see you eat my pussy.”
Eddie may have been spent for about an hour, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to devour you for the rest of the night.
#sin saturday༊*·˚#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson smut#smut#virgin!eddie munson x reader#virgin!eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction
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Can you do an Aegon or Aemond or both breastfeeding from older and blood related reader, where reader is naive and just thinking of it as something showing affections to them even thou they're like masterbation Infront of her while they suck her tits. 🫣😳
Sorry this is my first time doing this.
AN: Hi , I hope you like it x
NSFW
“We are so happy you are back, aunty.” Aemond purred into your ear. He was always the more talkative of the two, you knew that. Aegon was already tugging on your dress; tearing it, the buttons falling. He was a good boy, you thought to yourself. “I am too. I hope you have been behaving yourselves.”
They had seen you straight away after you arrived in the keep. Alicent was eager to have you close by and you always settled the boys. “Aegon, that was new..” You whispered out as you leaned back onto the mountain of pillows. “I will buy you more. So many.” The older Prince was nearly babbling.
He was eager to have you. Aegon was thankful you were still so naive. You were precious, he thought to himself as he looked up at you. So beautiful too. “I’m sure the journey was long and difficult..let us help you.” Aemond whispered as the dress easily fell from you now and left you completely bare.
“Boys..” You whispered out; chewing on your bottom lip as their touches as ever caused goosebumps over your soft skin. They only hummed. Aegon was already leaning in and before you knew it, his hot mouth began to suck on your nipple. The milk is flooding his mouth with ease now.
Aemond watched; his smirk only growing. Gods, you were a blessing he thought to himself as he subtly moved his hand into his pants. He shuffled them down past his arse and his cock freely bounced out. Not that you noticed this as Aegon distracted you. Your head easily falls back.
Aegon was moaning; sucking harder now as his hand gently rested on your breast too. He softly stroked you as his mind finally quietened. He didn’t have to think or worry about anything. Only you could do this for him. One day he hoped to take this further, but he was happy where he was for the moment.
You were trying to control yourself. This was for their comfort, not your pleasure. You thought as you ignored the soft sparks in your stomach. Your hand slowly moved into Aemond’s hair as his eye snapped to you. “Such a sweet boy you are.” You whispered and guided him towards your large, soft breast.
He hummed against you. His hips subtly rocking as his tongue moved over. The milk began to drip and he was only too willing to chase it. Your hold in his hair only tightened as you softly gulped. “You will have to find another way of being affectionate as I doubt I will be providing milk when I next see you.”
It had Aegon stopping for a moment; not that you noticed as you rested back into the cushions. His hand was already in his own pants now. His cock had been leaking since he first saw you this morning. The idea of you not having milk had him nearling whining as he looked over to Aemond.
Of course, Aegon rolled his eyes, his brother was hardly concentrating when his mouth was filling up and his hand was around his cock. His hand moved to your stomach as his tongue easily circled your nipple. He would find another way of you milking still; even if he had to place a babe inside you himself.
Aemond’s hand stroked himself faster as he nibbled on your soft, ample breast. Your fingers moved through his hair still whilst you ignored your inner thighs becoming more soaked. The feeling only confused you so you stayed concentrating on your boys attached to you. That was all that mattered.
Aegon’s hips began to rock now as his eyes fluttered shut. His attention on your breast now; the future could wait. Any other thoughts were so easily banished by your mere presence. It was addictive. As was the milk he was feasting on as he began to suck more harshly; his hand grabbing now.
Your eyes fluttered as soft whines escaped you for a moment; your body arching just for a moment. Aemond’s sucking only grew as his fisting of his own cock quickened. His stomach began to tighten now as he moved his hips; fucking his hand as his cum began to spill over onto it.
He groaned into your breast as his hand cheekily moved over your stomach, spreading his cum onto you. Gods, Aegon thought, and everyone thought he was the deviant. It only made him harder as he lapped at the milk coming his way. All the while you were arching from the bed; soft whimpers escaping you once more.
#aegon targaryen x y/n#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#1k drabbles#sinful saturday&sunday
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Imagine a forced marriage to emperor Vader (in a universe where he didn’t get barbecued)
You’re a princess and your planet has been destroyed by the Empire & you’re a spoil of war. Palpatine gifts you to Anakin and he marries you somewhat hesitantly assuming you’re an unwilling participant, until you get to your chambers and he takes off his helmet and you can’t believe you luck: it’s love at first sight.
He’s like wtf is wrong with you?? you’ve literally been kidnapped, you should not be this happy. But you think he’s so hot that you can’t help yourself and you ride him all night while he’s kinda unamused and all “really, another round? Fine if you want, hop on.”
anakin being unamused through the whole thing is soooooooo hot because he’s just letting you use his dick for your own good. and the degrading would be HIGH.
“you’re really a little whore, aren’t you? forced to marry a man you don’t even know and your pussy is soaked.”
anakin won’t even show that you’re making him feel good either. he won’t look at you, he won’t moan, hell he might even hop on a data pad and ignore the fact that you’re bouncing on his cock, hands pressed on his firm chest and begging for him to give you any kind of attention at all.
“please, sir. look at me, please. touch me. i need it.”
but he gives you no satisfaction until he cums in you, making a snide comment about breeding you for the empire.
🍒 sin saturday
#anakin skywalker smut#darth vader smut#sin saturday on luminoustarlight#sin saturday drabbles#bunnylovesani#mae’s mail 💌
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Being able to see see all of these together is just—- *chef’s kiss* I worked my ass off on these lol, and I still have more to come. An entire series worth even. All in progress~ :')
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Parody of The Saturday Evening Post, I present to you The Saturday Evening Ghost.
✨Commission Request Form
✨Tip Jar
✨Links
#the band ghost#digital art#my art#the saturday evening post#the saturday evening ghost#Papa Emeritus#Terzo#Popia#Tobias Forge#Papa Emeritus Iv#ghesties#ghost bc#ghost band#fan art#digital painting#painting#art#sister of sin#primo emeritus
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Sinful Saturday
So, Sinful Saturday came in second place, so I shall be doing that while trying to play Inquisition. (It has been crashing on me a lot recently for some unknown reason.)
So send in your smutty thoughts, and may Andraste forgive you.
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Sinful Saturday Night Discussion inspired by @samspenandsword post today
Which clones do we think are actual Brat Tamers vs “Brat? They’re not a brat to me?” and who belongs in the third category of “can’t handle brats at all”?
Thots below the cut:
I think Cody, Fox, Wolffe, Boba, Thorn, and Jesse are actual Brat Tamers. (Hunter, Boss, Sev, and Sinker might belong here too 👀)
Deeply patient, creative problem solvers, they know when to be firm and when to be soft. There’s just something about them though that makes you wanna fuck around and find out. You wanna challenge them juuuuuust a little bit. Especially Thorn and Jess because I just know they get cocky.
Now for the “Brat? They’re not a brat to me” category we have Echo, Rex, Kix, Hound, Hardcase, Wrecker, and Tup. (Howzer, Mayday, Fixer, and Comet might belong here too 👀)
If you told any of these men their cyar’ika is a brat, they’d look at you like you’d sprouted a second and third head. These men are so good at positive reinforcement, and inspiring their partner to behave that they’ve only seen the faintest hints of brat out of them. There’s something about them that just makes you wanna act right.
And I think Stone and Bacara can’t/won’t deal with bratty behavior at all.
tagging some folks who might enjoy this discussion: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @ladyzirkonia @wolffegirlsunite (and @sinfulsalutations when she’s back on again 💖) eta: everyone is welcome to join in as always 😌
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#sinfullygood#sinful saturday#sinfulnesxx#sinful thoughts#sinful desires#sinful sunday#sin with me#sinner demon#sinningzone#wordplay#small business#small artist#etsysmallbusiness#etsygifts#artists on etsy#etsyseller#etsystore#etsyshop#etsyfinds#etsy#unisex#crew neck#comfycore#comfy#comfy and cute#warm and comfy#comfort
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Sin Sunday: soft morning sex with sleepy Steve 🙏🏽
this is so late ik but it’s sin saturday!!! <3
warnings || fluff, soft!steve, smut!!, vaginal sex, lazy sex, 18+ only
The rays of the sun grazed Steve’s chest and the soft chirping of morning doves filled the air.
“What time is it?”
You groaned, turning over and away from Steve to look at the clock. Your head was turned the other direction and Steve pouted at the brief absence of your head on his chest.
“It’s 8:30.”
You turn back over and are met with a cuddly Steve. “Hey, you’re the one who asked what time it is!”
He giggled against your cheek and pulled you back on top of him. “I can’t help it!”
He presses sweet kisses against your face, leading down to your jaw and back up to your lips.
“My beautiful baby.” You smile widely as his hands trail down the sides of your back and grip. “You’re beautiful too, stevie.”
He hovers over your lips, pressing a small peck—eyes hooded and lazy. “Yeah? I am?”
You nod, your hands finding a grip of his hair. “Oh, yeah. the prettiest.”
He goes in to kiss you again—a certain look in his eyes that’s so full of love and adoration for you. You called him beautiful—the prettiest. You did.
You don’t know when or how, but Steve has you filled over so your back was against the mattress. He’s delving into you slowly, gasping and gaping at everything you.
He hadn’t even pressed his tip into your soaking folds yet, and you already made him into a puddle. “S-Shit, you’re my pretty girl, huh? Look at you—fuck—look at you.”
You’re preening—practically begging into the morning sir for Steve to devour every last bit of you. He lazily presses his bold, spongey tip onto your clit.
“Steve!” You grip his shoulders as he slides himself up and down against your clit and folds. He can’t help but stare at the shine of your slick moving across his member.
“Sweet baby, are you ready? Are you ready for my cock?” You nod vigorously and your hips jolt involuntarily in anticipation.
Steve couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I fucked you all night but that wasn’t enough was it?” You whined at the memories. “Jus’ so desperate for my cock, huh?”
“F-Fuck, Stevie—just—” Right on the precipice of your begging, Steve slams into you. And he’s absolutely relentless with a tight grip on your hip.
“S-Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight, baby—so—so fucking good.” His mouth is hung open as he watches himself disappear right into your heavenly folds—your glorious walls.
He leans down to kiss you—a slow and sweet kiss that has you whimpering in his mouth. His tongue swirls across your own and a hand leans onto his red cheek.
“My sweet girl, f-fuck, my pretty baby, yeah? i-fuck—” He’s not sure if he’s making any sense and you’re not sure you’re exactly listening.
You can’t—not when his cock is stuffing you full and ramming into you so hard you see stars. Not when you can feel his balls slap against your round ass. Not when his tongue is pressed against your neck to allude sweet sounds off of you.
“F-fuck, baby, are you close? Can-can feel you grippin’ me, sweet girl. Yeah, that’s it, come on my cock. I wanna feel you—shit—wanna feel you on my cock. Oh, that’s a good girl. My good girl.”
#sin saturday༊*·˚#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington smut#smut#steve harrington imagine#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction
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For a drabble : Daemon going down on his step daughter when teaching her high valyrian while her brother Jace instead of tell their mother about this start to stroke himself, watching.
AN: Hi, I hope you like it x
NSFW
He did not mean to stumble across such a sight. Nor do what he did next, Jace thought to himself as he leaned closer. His eyes are so wide at the sight of you spread across the bed. Your bare body is on full display. It took him longer than he would ever admit to notice the head in between your legs.
He always had thoughts of you; they were wrong, so wrong but Jace couldn’t help himself, not now. His hand moved to his hard cock, He slipped his hand in his pants and began to stroke himself. “Are you concentrating?” His uncle’s voice came over the room and his eyes widened. That was who you had in between your legs.
His mind fell to his mother but he only squeezed himself harder at the mere sight of you. He rested his head on the viewing wall. Your legs moved over Daemon’s shoulder as his hand moved up your stomach; pushing you down. “I am…” You stuttered out; soft cries of pleasure escaping you.
Your fingers moved into his hair and pulled him close. His tongue moving over your soaked pussy. “Hmm, one day you’ll be better than your brother.” Daemon purred before harshly sucking on your clit. The mention of himself had Jace leaking out of his head; spilling onto his hands.
He rested his hand on the wall as you completely lost yourself in the pleasure. Whatever lesson Daemon had been giving you was now done. “Daemon..” You whimpered out breathlessly. It was enough to have Jace’s heart skipping as he leaned closer. His mouth was watering for more.
His soft stroking picked up speed as you began to arch from the bed. Gods, he should tell his mother. He always went to her. But you were an angel in front of him. His own stomach was tightening already. The sound of your wetness echoing around the room had him nearly blushing.
Daemon leaned away and the view of your creamy pussy was on full display now and Jace nearly released right there. He watched Daemon’s thicker fingers move through your soaked folds before slipping two of them inside you; curling instantly. Jace watched as your pretty body thrashed around.
“Daemon, please..I” You began to beg now as his free hand moved towards your mouth. You were finally muted as the thrusts of his fingers continued with speed. He hit your soft spot again and again as your stomach only tightened. “Good girl, such a good girl.” Daemon whispered his praises.
“I can’t..so close..” You babbled so prettily as you moved your head to the side. Your face screwing up in pleasure had Jace’s eyes widening. His fisting continued as you squirted around Daemon’s fingers. Jace watched it all. His strokes became faster as Daemon never stopped his thrusts.
“Fuck..” Jace mumbled to himself as he leaned in; his hips rocking now before his cum moved all over his fingers. Gods, he had never felt like that before, he whimpered to himself as your soft, ample breasts began to bounce. He watched as Daemon brushed his own cock between your weeping folds before pushing in. He wanted to do that, Jace thought.
#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen x y/n#stepfather!daemon targaryen#jacerys velaryon x reader#sinful saturday&sunday#1k drabbles
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