#HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN THERE WITH THAT PEARL

[rdr2enjoyer]

gross..but like cum hcs?? (LMAOO) how much…? Taste??? (I’m cringing writing this)

I’m almost offended that you were worried this would be too much for this account. It’s not likely that anyone has considered this question as much as me (except maybe you)

Arthur — Thin but plentiful loads that fountain and flow down the shaft and over his fingers instead of shooting out. Sometimes it does shoot, but that’s only when he’s really pent up or if you’ve been edging him. Tastes very masculine, almost musky. Salty like how his sweaty skin tastes when you kiss his neck.

John — Thin, semi-translucent loads that almost always shoots out at least a foot. He has bad (or maybe very good) aim and almost manages to get it on your face or your chest when he cums. I headcanon john to have a bit of a sweet tooth and since it’s affected by diet, I imagine it may be a bit sweeter but still overall salty.

Charles — Thick, pearl white, voluminous loads that dribble out of him, down his shaft and onto his fingers. I feel like Charles probably eats the best out of all of them so the taste would probably be about as tolerable as the taste of cum could be in 1899.

Dutch — thick, scant, loads that more often than not fountains out of him and onto his — or your — fingers. Which is lucky, because he loves to watch you suck it off whoever’s fingers are coated with it. Taste is probably pretty subtle, not much to it.

Javier — thick, stringy, and abundant. It is ridiculous how much he cums and how long his orgasms last. He’s grateful to have plenty of pain to decorate the canvas (you) with. Taste would likely be relatively bitter, I feel like he enjoys spicy food too much.

Kieran — thin, translucent, and very runny. It just makes a mess so easily and he looks so good covered in his own spend. I believe that his orgasms can also last a long time, and if you continue to stimulate him after he can even squirt (yes penis havers can do that!)

Sean — Thick and white like glue, also cums an insane amount that will shoot from him 99% of the time (often landing up to his own chest or sometimes even his face which he kinda loves shh) Very sticky. And probably doesn’t taste great tbh…cum rarely does and I feel like Sean has a terrible diet.

I GUESS I’ll do Micah but I won’t enjoy it — Thick and also very white but he does not cum much. It all shoots out of him and across your face at once, though his orgasm seems to ripple through him even longer. Tastes bad. He’s gross.

[salsa-di-pomodoro]

OH NOOO.........OH NOOOOOOOO.............................

[raticalshoez]

i'm having hyperfixation drought so i did what i did best and created a crossover episode

[redcherrykook]

──𐙚 think i need someone older (s & f)

olderBoyfriend!Jungkook x inexperienced!reader

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content: some plot first, loss of virginity, age gap of 9 years (he´s 30), thigh humping, little dry humping too, cowgirl, he talks her through it, dom!jungkook, "sweet girl, baby, love", "gguk" lowkey insecure reader, praise, making out, breast play, clit play, creampie, unprotected, hickies on him, big c!ck Jungkook, small karaoke session, he´s whipped and wants to take care of her, short mention of alcohol (bc of that fucking bar he has omg), allusions to reader being short, she's very feminine

note from cherry: i tried to do justice to the people who wanted this, i hope you´re satisfied mwah! sooo sorry if it´s not giving lmao writing this was lowkey exhausting, also sorry for typos as always

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Jeon Jungkook is exactly like his preferred alcoholic beverage; whiskey. strong, rich, smooth, smells like oak and a hint of vanilla caramel. Much like your introduction to the drink, you met this man in a bar.

A real man- none of those barely twenty-year olds that paraded around in their sagged sweatpants and with a bright tap of unlimited unopened snapchats lighting up the dark corners of the bar. Jungkook is pure masculinity, a chest so full with security, so grounded in his abilities that it was practically impossible to ignore how his large, brown galaxy eyes focused on your face, zeroing in on your cupid´s bow while you licked the stinging remains of your moscow mule away- he paid for it, of course.

Once the enticing conversation that felt almost comically easy faded, you expected him to try and take you to his house- mansion, as he revealed in a sidetracked sentence. Although you were looking forward to seeing the small metal pearls below and over his eyebrow move as they crinkle in pleasure, the tight ropes of virginity had not yet been released in your 21 years of living. Shackles that keep you tied down- as promised out of your own, admittedly senseless morality, not to be opened by a stranger. The key to your cuffs belonged to a lover.

It was unforeseeable, nevertheless natural for him to droop his heavily tattooed arm around your waist while escorting you out of the establishment. The sleeve of his white button down folded up along his forearm for you to see the beauty of his skin, wondering just how many more of those carefully crafted works of art he´s hiding beneath the business casual attire.

Once engulfed in the harsh, bitter wind that itaewon possesses, his arm only drew you in closer, so near in fact, you were able to notice a small scar on his cheek, one you hadn´t been able to notice in the curse of a dimly lit place. The more your eyes adjusted to him, so grew your anger at the lighting inside your place of first meeting- it had done an injustice to the man you had already been disgustingly attracted to, stole the wholehearted, inescapable allure of such a mature presence.

The gentleman looks down into your awaiting eyes, only to ask if he may have your number, upon your agreement, he proceeded to tell you that he would be walking you home, wanting you to arrive safely since it must be dangerous for a woman to walk the streets of a party district at 2 am in the morning.

That encounter was four months ago, and only a month after that initial conversation, he had completely taken over you. Swallowed you whole in just how well he treated you.

Insistent of using his black card to buy you anything you remotely showed liking in, dedicated to communication, random flowers that showed up at your office and a constant offer of a ride in his luxurious black mercedes-benz GT63s; no matter how long it took- even if it was a inconvenience, sometimes taking longer to get to you than it would have taken you to simply retort to public transport.

"I told you i´d make it for you, didn´t I baby? hm?" his velvet smooth voice rings, from how he´s standing, with his body pressed against your back, towering over you, you could feel the hardened muscles of his torso meeting you. His large, slim hands reach to either side of your waist, to the glass filled with ice that you´re holding in between your own, gently removing them to resume the task that you were occupied with. Your eyes glance to the bulging of his bicep, that loose, casual tshirt did nothing to hide just how big he had gotten due to his newfound hobby.

you whine- almost, biting down on your lower lip to prevent just that from happening, "thank you gguk" you say, turning to peck the very muscle that´s invading your line of sight. He hums, a low, satisfied sound from the back of his throat.

"c´mere baby" patting one of his muscular thighs, his eyes drift to your figure walking towards him, iced tea in hand, just like he had made it for you. Sweet, light, refreshing, much like your presence in his life. Almost like a sign from the stars that his hearts content was somewhere, bundled in the form of a shorter girl with eyes that could entrance any sailor- far less siren like, no, wide with love and purity. Just what he had yearned for in any women he had met before you-whether tangled in meaningless sheets or involved in a month long, semi serious relationship, Jungkook was yet to cross paths with the one woman that would make him turn so desperate, he would have begged for their happiness on his knees. It might be romantic, even a tad dramatic to admit that from the very first word that left your pink glossed lips, he knew better than anyone else that he was in deep, deep trouble. Upon seeing the curve of your waist, hearing that soft, lulling voice, that embarrassingly obvious fact only intensified after finding out just how delightful you truly were, it made him want to rip his hair out- do anything in the possibility of his grip to see even a glimpse of your smile, of that lighthearted, cheerful giggle you let out regularly. He was drawn in my your feminine nature, by the way you let yourself fall into his caring embrace.

He´s quickly directed back to reality as soon as your legs make it to either side of the thigh he had patted earlier, a familiar position for this equally familiar occasion. Muscle memory sets in for him, grabbing the large karaoke remote to hand to you while he turns the microphone on. "Can you sing something to me first?" the question sets his bunny smile off, nodding instantly "Sure love, chose a song for me" he says. Your mind floods with ideas, but you settle for a song you´ve heard him hum millions of times, mindlessly going about.

"Malibu nights?", jungkook questions excitedly while the instrumental sets in, he knew the answer, but his heart swelled with joy at the notice you took to this song. After all, he loved to sing. Another layer to him that has you melting, growing into the embodiment of love that is endlessly cherishing what little fractions were revealed to your eyes in each fleeting moment. His honey voice reaches beautiful highs and lows you can only compare to something angelically otherworldly in nature.

It made you want to know just how deep he could growl, how far his sounds can drop with the dirty nothings you would love to have whispered in your ear. You felt filthy for letting your mind wander to such extends when all he did was sing, lulling you into drunken harmony with him. Still, you consciously lean back into his body, letting him wrap his arms around your waist, encircling it with his vanilla oak scent.

During the past four months, you were doomed to have to shatter his hopes, reveal the truth that somehow felt shameful ; that you´re fully untouched. Nothing further than a bad makeout had yet graced your skin, it made you feel even smaller admitting something so vulnerable to a man that carries almost an entire decade of experience more. Much to your comfort, his hands found the curve of your cheeks immediately, telling you that there is nothing to be embarrassed about, he would hand you the full control, you set the pace.

Internally, Jungkook drooled at the idea that the woman of his dreams was to have her first, the most memorable, sexual encounter with him. Your body belonged to him, devoted to only remember the touch of his lips, the curve of his cock, how he would mold you to his shape without the intrusion of another man having tried the same. Not that he would have wanted you any less if that had not been the case, but for one time in your relationship, he was oh so selfish to want you all to himself, aroused that your first person induced orgasm was going to be his and his alone. The prophecy fulfilled when on one, alcohol induced night a week ago, two of his long, tattooed digits made their entrance into your tight hole, relentlessly filling you until your soft thighs shook, until after your third high, he licked his fingers clean and let you taste yourself on his tongue.

The tunes get lost in silence, he sets the microphone down, having felt the warmth of your mound beneath the tights while you tried to subtly gain friction, scooting back on him. His palms find your thighs, tightly flushed around his muscle. They´re shamelessly wandering up and down the thin material that prevents his hot, calloused fingers from feeling up your smooth skin.

"Wanna do that again, love?" jungkook mutters, his pillowed lips latch on to your exposed neck, right at the gentle curve that paints the beginning of your shoulder, soft, faint kisses that leave a trail of barely sounding sighs behind.

"Do what?" feigning innocence to avoid internal humiliation, you ask him, knowing he wouldn´t let it go, not until you told him to. The sound of his husky chuckle sounds right on the sweetspot of your neck, he sucks a little harder, encouraging you with the constant rub to your thighs. Instinctively, the heat inside your panties grows as do the intensity of your desperate moans, your hips push back on his thigh, seeking the solidity that grants you the portion of satisfaction your needy button longed for

"that" he simply says, having found an anchor in your hips now, your plaid skirt bunches around his hands, slowly- tortuously so when met with the deliberate little humps he helps you to complete on him. You practically whimper once his tongue glides across your skin, dragging from your shoulder, up your neck, intertwined with his open mouth, loud kisses that don´t seem to stop.

"that´s it... do you even know how cute you sound?" he smiles, and you feel it, you feel the smile rise to his lips with every additional kiss, every noise you grant the hungry male. "gguk, wanna see you" you whine- the high pitched noise has him twitching in his training joggers, semi errect but about to stand stiff, just as noticeably as that night seven days ago, having formed a huge tent inside his slacks, there was no hiding his attraction, no use to conceal his utter need for you.. nor his size, not that he would be capable to anyways.

To your request, he helps you turn around, now facing that dim glow on your slightly embarrassed features, taking note of how you nibble on your lip with every grind forward, "that feel good sweet girl?" he asks, ghosting his lips over yours faintly, just enough to see how much you need it, "mhm.. really good" you mumble back, chasing after his lips that he can't deny you of any longer, the kiss is gentle, but nourishes your heat further

"wanna feel even better?" the pit in your lower abdomen grows at the tone of his voice, something much stronger is seeping through his system, something that screams dominance, you nod- naturally wanting to get lost in it. Jungkook's hands stop assisting you, instead, they take to your shirt, "can i take this off of you baby?" he waits for that little hum of yours before swiftly tugging it away from your form

It's almost frightening how quickly your mind reverts back to wanting to run away and hide, your arms fly across your chest, everything you felt so good doing stops and he stops too,

"don't hide, you're perfect, you're so fucking sexy" his eyes trace your skin, hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your arms away, revealing your chest hugged into your bra, and jungkook almost forgets how to breathe properly,

he groans- groans that delicious deep noise that makes your head spin, even more so when you feel his appreciation for your body, hands pulling you closer by the waist so can bury his head into your cleavage. "so beautiful" he mutters, darting his tongue out to lick the slit between your tits, "wanna touch all over you, make you feel so good" he says, finding the clasp on your back to open it with one hand. a silent reminder of his experience, one you did not have in the slightest but somehow, it felt even better that way

"mh.. feels good gguk" you can't help but moan at the forgein sensation, his lips wrap around your hardend nipple, groaning sweetly while he sucks on it, carefully swiping his tongue over the little nub- your other breast is securely fitted into his palm, thumb playing with it just like he does with his mouth, mirroring every little flick

"feels so good doesn't it? you smell so good baby" his lips move to do the same to your other breast, switching sides with a trail of saliva sticking to his lips,

In that moment you feel so sensitive, so lost in his secure hold and at the same time, so small in his skillful dominance that you simply relish in the feeling, grinding your soaked core into his thigh over and over, long, hasty drags over his muscle while his lips work magic on your skin, squeezing a little tighter, sucking a little harder because every stuttered whimper fuels his urge to take care of you

"that's it baby.. keep going, you're so good" your hands find his dark chocolate locs, threading through it with the need to ground yourself. it feels as though every time your clit meets him, instead of getting you closer to sensational relief it adds to the ache, feeds into your desire to take and take more of him, be consumed by his strength

"want this off please" your excited fingers fiddle with the hem of his oversized shirt, earning a smug grin from your boyfriend as he detaches from you, discarding of his top

Although you have seen him shirtless before, it's impossible not to salivate at the sight, at his toned broad torso that curves into a unfairly small waist, large arms flexing when he reaches for your tits again, massaging them once more,

"like what you see pretty?" he says, teasingly cocking his head and biting at the metal ring on the corner of his lip, you blush- the slick drools out even more between your thighs, "so hot gguk, annoyingly hot" he chuckles, joining the sound with your airy giggle, but he sucks in a breath as soon as you shift in his lap, now fully straddling him, naked chest pressed to his with your head burried in his neck, "hmm.. what are you up to baby?" his hands find your back, soothing himself not to pounce on you because the strain in his pants is staggering his breath, your errect nipples are rubbing against his skin and it´s making him shiver, desperate, oh so desperate for you

but he knows all to well not to overwhealm your sweet, virgin body, to let you take all the time you need until he can feel every breath of your submission

"wanna feel you gguk, can i?" jungkook almost purrs at how innocently you ask, suppressing the need to grind his hips into your heat from below, "of course baby, anything you want. it's all yours"

he meant it, every vein cursing through his body belongs to you, working, pumping blood through him for the sole purpose of loving you, taking care of you. "all mine?" you hum, aroused by the confidence he emitts, your hands trace up his torso, creating a small distance between your bodies to feel up the hard lines on his abdomen with laboured breath of your own, lips finding every small patch of his neck that make him hum, make his sighs of pleasure slowly turn into groans "all yours my love" the answer wasn't necessary, not when you already started to leave traces of you on his skin, faint, red bruises on his neck that he's impatiently waiting to run around with

"you feel so fucking good, need to feel more of you, will you let me sweet girl?" his words are intoxicating, washing away any doubt or fear and replacing it with a intense craving of sexual desire "please gguk i'm so wet for you" the sound reaches his ears and shuts down his entire system, his hands carelessly rip down your skirt and stockings, leaving you in those tiny grey boyshorts that he looses his mind over "baby how did you hide all this from me?" his hands caress your thighs, your hips, up your waist and to the soft flesh of your stomach with hungry, insatiable eyes that long for a taste of your every inch

"all yours" you mimic him, sounding just like him with your sultry, shy voice, already wanting to remove his own bottoms which he catches on, ridding himself of the nuisance "yeah, all mine. this is all mine" he says, smiling softly

Your drenched underwear meets his errection as he pulls you back on his lap, hands sitting on your waist, you look so vulnerable- almost fragile in his grip, shyly moaning because the curve of his cock presses into your skin like it was molded for you, needy folds clinging to your underwear and your clit throbs- throbs begging for another taste of friction

"I don't know how to do any of this" he suddenly he hears you mumble, seeing how you're playing with your fingers that sit on his lower abdomen, your head is turned to them, a slight pout decorates your features

jungkook feels the need to sob- to take away whatever is making that pretty head of yours feel so threatened even though you're the best thing he has ever felt, the only person he ever wants to lay his hands on ever again

"that's okay baby, hey, look at me for a second will you?" you comply, craving his lead, his security to catch you, most of all that gentle, masculine dominance that floods your senses effortlessly

"you're doing so so well pretty, you don't have to worry okay? i'll take you through it, make you feel so good" he says, cupping your cheeks in his palms while sitting up a little to press kisses to your nose, your forhead, your lips and cheeks,

unable to contain your smile, you nod, gaining back the heartbeat in your willing feminity to let him take care of you, "thank you baby" you say with upmost honesty, pressing your lips to his in a kiss of adoration

"mhm.. come on, let's get this off of you love" his whipers lingers on you, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear before pulling it off your lifted legs, he moans at the sight of your bare cunt, slick attached to the cloth and glistening over your feminity

"so beautiful, do you even realize how lucky i am? how thankful i am that this sweet, sweet girl is all mine to love?" he says softly, so softly that your eyes gloss a little bit, feeling so utterly vulnerable in front of him, so sexy in the most feminine way possible. blush creeps up your cheeks, his hands find your inner thigh, dancing around the sensitive skin "you're too sweet gguk"

he returns your smiles, lifting your hand to kiss it before intertwining it with his own, lacing his fingers into you because being apart from your body feels like torture in this moment. but you're eyes are busied elsewhere, locked on the large outline that stands rock solid insides of his calvins, a small, wet patch that indicates his arousal decorating the very top

"go ahead baby, take it off" not needing to be told twice, you help yourself to his boxers, tugging them down in one, slow motion that leaves him biting his bottom lip, he pushes them down to his ankles, kicking them off

both of you sit like this for a moment that feels like eternity, raw, bare and without a chance to hide in front of the other's desperate gaze, comfort, pure love that's inseparable with a pulsing you can no longer ignore, not when he´s so big, so broad and decorated with a vein alongside his curved shaft

he grabs at the flesh of your ass, pulling you to sit your gushing cunt over his stiff length, cursing at feeling how soft you are, how much arousal truly spills from your body

"you're so.. big gguk.. m'scared" your whine makes him coo, stroking your head while a possessive grip that stays on your hip, his left hand tethering to your hair in the meantime, "don't be, you were made for me sweet girl, made for it" your head falls to his shoulder, arching your torso into his body with a small hump to his leaking cock, "that's right baby, feel it, feel how hard i am for you" spurred on by his encouragement, you tighten your hands on his bicep, rolling your hips over his, his entire shaft is coated in your essence, angry pink tip meeting your swollen clit repeatedly, so much so you feel your thighs shake, feel an impending orgasm waiting to flow over your body,

Ripping yourself of that sensation, not yet- you tell yourself

"want it gguk, want it so bad" jungkook hums, kissing your neck messily, cock throbbing beneath you, "want what pretty? talk to me" he says, his own desire to claim you all to himself becomes unbareable with each passing second that you stay put

You shift forward again, whining, "please gguk" he groans, twitching at how desperate you sound, entranced with how needy you've become for him, he didn't even have to make you beg for it, you just did

effortlessly perfect for him, "come on, tell me my love" but he has to hear more, he needs to hear the dirty confession falling from your pure lips

"want your cock jungkook, please" there it is- that submissive, whiny plead for him, it makes him feel alive, throwing his head back on the black leather couch momentarily "good girl, fuck baby you're so cute" he praises, taking the base of his cock into his hand but something stalls him, "do you want me to eat you out first? make it nice and slippery?" his teeth graze your ear, kissing over the shell of it, "no gguk i want it, want it now"- another nibble, "anything for you"

Your hips lift, hovering your tight, clenching hole over his thick manhood, hands sweaty and grasping at his firm shoulders, he spots your anxiety, wishing nothing more but to ease it

"sit down on it baby, it's gonna sting okay? but you're so good, I know you can take it" more, more reassuring words that you drink in, just as you sink down on it, wincing as your brows meet in frustration

"hurts.." you mutter, fingers digging into his tanned skin- you can't bring yourself to move down further, clenching your muscle tightly around only his fat tip that feels like it's splitting your drooling pussy open. his hands find your back again, "ssh baby.. i know... but you'e such a good girl, i know you can take every inch of my cock"

It takes a couple more kisses to your shoulder for you to sink down fully on his length, painfully so- having your hands claw into him, your lips trembling in confusion of why it feels so good to have him stuffed into you so deeply you can feel it inside your tummy, stretching into every crevice of your gummy walls. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, fulfilling, deep pressure that you could get lost in- bathe in

Jungkooks feelings have synchronized with yours- he's unsure where you end or where he begins but you're clamped down on his cock, your skin already wet with sweat as it sticks to his unforgivingly, moans and shaky breaths fill in the silence, a unspoken question lingers, awaits for you to answer it

until you do, taking his large hands to your hips before pressing yours against his full pecks, a glint of confidence spites your eyes that makes jungkook want to hear you cry out his name over and over again

"oh fuck- baby you-" you whine, rolling your hips forward, mouth parted when you feel him move inside of you, slolwy, deeply "that's it my love, take your time, so sexy like this" his voice is far from stable, you moan again- the grinding becomes faster, assisted by his hands that pull you onto him just the way you like it- just like he said, you have it all, its all yours

"what- what if you can't come?" he needs to contain a laugh at that- the question is so absurd to him, so unimaginable that it makes him slightly angry why you couldn't understand that he could cum from seeing you alone, from one kiss to your chaste lips- he's already twitching at how sloppy, how loud your cunt is around him

"I almost came from seeing how needy that little pussy of yours is, you feel how hard i am don't you? all because of you baby" he mutters in response, you flourish at it, getting familiar with the grinding motion but you need more, you deserve more- so you start bouncing on him- up and down, slamming your own, curved hips down onto him. he's mesmerized by your pleasure, watching how your brows are knitted, how your lips leak with drool and airy moans, how your tits bounce- he gropes at them, cupping them greedily, his hands itch for your skin, for you to let yourself go on him

"good girl.. look at you, a natural at riding my cock- don't even need my help" you shake, exhaustion already growing in your eager hips but you cannot stop, you don´t want to stop taking every inch of his cock back into you, lifting your hips only to take him back in, "you're filling me so much" you moan into his mouth, having formed a unity with his lips that welcome you like home, "just like that pretty, little humps for me" he mumbles back, interlacing his tongue with yours

he tugs at your nipples with his inked fingers, reciprocrating the moaning, he mirrors you, throbs when you clench, explores your mouth when you part for him impatiently. it leaves you to no choice but to become his own reflection, your hips ground themselves in a stable rhythm as your fingertips roll over his own nipples, unexpectedly he whimpers, bites down into your shoulder cautiously

"That's it baby, driving me fucking crazy" he grinds his hips up into you, unlocking a feeling of bliss that leads you to errupt into pornographic moans, your hand flings to muffle them, eyes rolling back into your skull,

Jungkook is making love to you, letting you reach a state you would not have been able to imagine, not even in the slightest when all you have ever felt are your fingers hastily, uncoordinated on your bundle of nerves. still, he can feel you´re holding back, afraid to be loud- to take up space, but he's having none of it

"Dont be embarrassed sweet girl, you sound addicting, so cute, give me every little noise" sinful sensuality floods you with his encouragement, "gonna make you cum for me, deserve it don't you think?" you don't- in fact, you can't think, long gone into pleasure while his hips piston into you from below,

he slaps your clit gently, your walls clench from how good that feels, "i asked you something baby" he repeats, distracted by your droopy eyes that threaten to shut him out at any moment, "answer me sweet thing, do you deserve to cum hm?" he taunts, rutting his hips with a slower but harder motion, force that hits your g-spot- reels you back into the moment, you head moves frantically "yes, yes please i need to cum"

Jungkook groans in satisfaction, "that's right.. best little cunt, all mine" he goes back lapping at your chest, licking his way to any patch of skin that your addictive smell lurs him to- he feels all over your skin, sneaking his fingers to where your bodies morph into one so he can draw tight circles on your clit, stimulating you to cry out his name,

"Jungkook.. i- i can't stop it i-" you stutter, thighs tensing around him, the feeling is so overwhealming that you can't keep your head up, can't warn him more than that since you're already letting your dew sprinkle out- letting the shocks roll over your body

"just like that.. make a mess on my cock baby, you did so well, come for me" he rasps, his heavy balls release into your tightness at the thought that crosses his mind- the knowledge that he had made you orgasm, that your virginity belonged to him solely,

It embraces the both of you, fills you with a sense of euphoria that none of you wish to end

As the high washes over you, you break out into a small shudder, aware of his milky cum that splurts your walls white, aware of the oversensitive area between your legs that jungkook's fingers slowly stop touching, landing to your unstable and sore thighs instead.

his heavy breathing is woven into yours, contrasting how slowly, lazily he manages to caress your naked skin, finding comfort in your warm body

the small whisper of his name catches him off guard, he hums, pulling back to cup your face, "are you okay my love? feel good?" his eyes rank over your tired features, glowing before his very own eyes,

"so okay. I love you" you breathe out, pressing a kiss to his button nose,

"I love you too baby, so proud of you" his nose nuzzles against yours, "you were so so good"

your shy giggle lights up his face like it always does, "thank you.. for taking my virginity... felt so good" you mumble with your bottom lip tucked away between your teeth- it awakens his soft- still nestled cock, his hands grip your ass- feeling the flesh spill beneath his fingers "thank you for your trust baby, but god, you're gonna make me lose it" jungkook says into your neck, nose tracing the delicate line of your shoulder,

"why? is it too much?" unbeknownst to you, Jungkook rolls his eyes in annoyance, how could you be so fucking adorable?

"Let me show you why" he answers, making your head perk up a little,

"Wanna lay down for me pretty? I can give you another one, as many as you want. You deserve it, wanna spoil you, fuck i wanna give you everything you want" faintly audible as he's speaking into your skin, having already laid you down onto the cold cushions of his unreasonably expensive leather couch.

[shotmrmiller]

there are two modes to simon. handsy and handsy.

handsy is the gentle hold he has on your wrist when you're watching a movie on the couch, his thumb brushing your knuckles, tracing ever bump and curve. it's a cozy arm thrown over your waist, weighty enough to leave your side sore after, with his leg slid between yours while he snores into your ear after a long day's work. the hand on your knee under the table while eating breakfast, lightly squeezing when you ask him if he wants more.

and then there's handsy. his grip tight around the soft of your waist, fingers creating little divots into your flesh as he tries to slow the pace you've set, feeling his climax too close too soon. it's how he fists your hair and maneuvers your head to the side without much effort while you're on your stomach, the light prick on your scalp only adding to the pleasure, as he mutters into your ear if you can give him another one. (guess you'll die, then.)

how he paws at your arse when he's got you on your knees with your face dug into a pillow as he pistons his hips, the occasional slap of his balls onto your clit making your ears ring and calves tense almost painfully, until he pulls you up, his chest and your back slick with sweat and you come with his one hand around your throat and the other jerking little circles on your stiffened pearl.

the two touches are so different from each other, one a tender thing as if he's afraid to hurt you and the other wanting to hurt, but a different kind of ache, the one he will always soothe with his fingers, mouth and cock.

(call him a triple threat.)

whether you like it or not, you've been conditioned. soft and gentle means affection and care, similar to him bussing the side of your head every morning before work while rough and firm means you're about to be ploughed until you're left to soak in a bath to recover from the onslaught.

and you'd been prepared to take this secret to the grave, to not tell a soul how he'd pulled you out of a pool with enough strength to feel your rear shoulder sting and you'd just about moaned in broad daylight. or how he'd moved you out of soap's trajectory during the first meet by the wrist and if you hadn't been wearing a jumper, your peaked nipples would've been visible to anyone.

but naturally, things never go your way. he'd found out in no time and now he uses that knowledge to his advantage. a quick sneaky fuck in price's bathroom during a barbecue starts with a vicious tug of your arm. getting ate out in the back alley of a pub: giving your thigh a squeeze so tight it could bruise while you sip on the swill you call beer.

and every single time he's pulling your pants down or flipping your skirt up, you're already dripping with want.

now to get him to stop manhandling you like that when the 141 are around.

(soap's left like a deer in headlights after he forcibly sat your tipsy arse down next to him because "LT said to keep 'n eye on ye," and a moan had slipped past your lips unbidden and now the girls boys are fighting someone help)

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Once again tumblr is silencing my voice by not letting me add more than 30 tags. Okay the rest of what I was going to say is that if you gave him an assignment that was simple and out of the way enough, even upstairs, he might be able to stick it out for a couple hours. Another factor that determines how long that might be is where this is happening. Is he at Brinkley Court? Then Aunt Dahlia and the other servants (whom he seems to be on good terms with) will cover for him. No matter what he screws up, “oh, that’s Barry! He’s just new here!” Jeeves might be able to work something similar at a different manor house (presuming Bertie’s face isn’t already known there) if he’s on good terms with any of the servants there. They might agree to take Bertie under their wing as a favor to Jeeves. It also depends on whether Jeeves himself is there to help him, whether they’re working in the same area of the house, and if they’re able to inconspicuously pull each other aside to confer.

In conclusion: can’t answer question, too many variables

[ohnonotthehorrors]

Can I... talk about the theory that winners help craft the next game?

Because, and I really can not say this enough, it puts So Much into perspective.

Everything starts out Normal. Three lives, simple, cut and dry, there hasn't been a winner yet. No one to help craft the game. (And there's something to be said about how simple it really was. Not even a real expectation of the world becoming pvp or combative. No idea of the war to come)

Then Grian wins. The green killer, the man who vowed his first life to the one whose life he took. The next game the boogie man is born. A mechanic that allows and, in fact, demands, a green kill. People can trade lives back and forth, currency and debt wrapped up in one. (can we still be friends? Said the red partner. A life time later and reds are hostile, alone. Maybe it's an answer: No. Not anymore)

Scott wins this time. He refuses to play the game. He will not kill his team, he will love and he will do so fiercely and with all of himself. The next game people are attached through to their very souls. Every bit of damage to one soul is done to its twin. There is no boogeyman. (There is no way for a widow to be left without their love)

Pearl wins and she wins a blood bath. Spent the game draped in red, only wolves for company. Sitting in her tower, shivering in ice, maybe she wanted it to end. To see where it would. Limited life rewards you for killing, limited life has a clock tick tick ticking down, you always no how long you have. A curse yes, but a blessing too.

Now It's Martyn's turn.

And what a turn it is.

Keep your secrets, says the disloyal man, keep them well. Everything hurts, everything Matters, says the man fracturing with every loss. (What if we could love each other without hurting? Says The Hand, who never wanted to be coated in blood)

More importantly, Martyn has always seen the watchers below the surface. Now, they're right here in front of him. Something that could almost... be rebelled against, no? Something that someone else could finally point to and say: hey, hey isn't that familiar?

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3

part one here. ꒱

⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.

⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.

⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.

⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.

⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.

⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.

⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”

⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”

⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”

⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”

⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”

[rosiereveries]

Part two of the secret Santa with CEO!JohnPrice drabble that I wrote Part one CW: smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, doggy style, little power imbalance, reader is a female

You carefully knock on his office door hoping that he has already left. The whole secret Santa was a stupid idea that your colleagues came up with, and everyone got mediocre gifts except you. Your boss John Price bought you some expensive perfume, you didn’t even know the brand, but you could tell that it cost a fortune, and a pearl necklace that was beautiful. You know that keeping these gifts is not right, he must have bought them for someone else and he had to accidentally change the presents. You were sure he had some socks and coffee mug prepared for you.

Even though you could see how satisfied he was when you open your gift. And the fact that he called you his good girl in front the whole office made your stomach turn. It’s been so long since someone made you blush that much. That is why you went to his office in the first place, to make sure you return the gift.

When you hear quiet “come in” you know that you must face him. You slowly open the door and find him sitting behind his table with a surprised face. He didn’t expect you to come. “Something wrong with your present doll?” he asks, and you start to explain that you can’t keep the gift, that you are sure it was not meant for you. He simply asks if you had a chance to try on the necklace. You shake your head no and he walks behind you taking the necklace from your shaking hands.

It’s been a while since someone touched you so gently and there is something so intimate about the way he gathers your hair and pushes them away, so he has unlimited access to your neck. You can feel his breath next to your ear and you realize he stands too close to you. He turns both of you, so you stand next to the mirror he has in his office, and you see the hunger in his eyes.

One second, he is looking at you and the next he is lightly kissing your neck. “Tell me to stop now or I won’t” he says, and you just nod for approval. “Words honey, I need you to tell me that you want this as much as I.”

“Please Mr. Price” you whimper. That is all he needs to hear. John’s hands are everywhere. He pulls the top of your dress lower so he can touch you breasts while he starts to rub his hard dick in your ass. He sucks at your neck, and you know that you will have hickeys, and you will have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow.

When he is done with your neck, he turns your head, and he kisses you. It is wild, his tongue is immediately in your mouth, and he doesn’t let you have breaks for breaths. John pulls your skirt up pushing his hand in your stockings and he touches you through your panties.

“You’re so wet for me darling, and I barely even touch you” You can hear the ripping of your stockings and suddenly he pushes you onto his desk pushing your legs apart so he can have access to your pussy. He pulls your panties to your knees, and you blush when you remember what pair you put on in the morning. A pink cotton panties with a little bow, you didn’t expect anyone to see them tonight.

“So pretty and just for me,” he says, and you can feel his breath at your clit, “but unfortunately I don’t have time to eat you out, but don’t worry we will make time the next time you see me.” By this point you are needy mess who just want him to fuck you.

You can hear him unzipping his pants and then you finally feel his dick at your opening. He starts to push in slowly, groaning and moaning into your ear. He is thick and long, and you feel so full. You didn’t have a partner for some time now and he fills you up so nicely.

“You’re doing great love, just keep taking me in” he says and when he finally pushes his whole dick inside you, you feel so full. It is so overwhelming and he’s not even moving yet. He sets up a harsh and rough tempo fucking into you with his hips and the whole desk starts to shake.

John is practically laying on you, he has you pinned on the desk, and you can feel his full weight on yourself. “Fuck I am going to cum, be a good girl and let me come inside” You don’t even know if you could tell him no, you are so close chasing your own release.

When his fingers lightly rub your clit, you break. It is one of the most powerful orgasms you have had. You can feel him cumming inside of your pussy and you’re grateful that you are on the pill.

After some time when he just lays on you, he gently pulls out of you and helps you to clean. “Such a good girl for me isn’t you” John makes sure that you look decent before he walks out of the office with you. He helps you to his car and drives your home. He walks you to your door and says, “Just don’t tell HR and we can keep up with the fun.”

The next morning when you walk to your desk you find a small package there. When you open it there are earrings, matching pair to the necklace you got yesterday. There is also a note that says: Be a good girl and come up to my office during my lunch break.

Part three Masterlist

[http-shield]

I am definitely not thinking about Bucky's first time in around 100 years like he is so sensitive to every touch already, the serum coursing through his veins heightening each brush of your skin, each hitch of your breath as he licks up the column of your neck, the quickening of your heart as his fingers trail over the ribbon on your panties, don't even get me started on how overstimulated he would get as you trail your fingers down his torso, over the waistband of his pants, sliding down the zipper, his cock hot and aching against the seam of his trousers, and when you finally make contact when your fingertips graze the outline of him through his boxers, he quite literally almost busts right there and then, but I am 10000% not thinking about how he would lose his composure the second he slides into you.

Bucky has barely sunk his aching cock in you before he pulls out with a wince, his mouth pulled in a pained frown.

"Buck, what's wrong?" panic floods your body as you begin to sit, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "What's happening?" The heat that had once filled your body as you worked each other up is replaced with ice, and the terror at crossing his boundaries fills your muscles.

Bucky shakes his head, muscles in his jaw tensing as he hisses through his teeth. Every indicator points towards pain. The furrowed brow, closed eyes, tensed jaw, heavy breathing—these are all bad signs, terrible signs, so you begin to move, to slowly pull back from him, afraid to cause any more damage, but his hand on your bare leg stops you. Vibranium fingers dig into the plush flesh, gripping the fat of your thigh as he releases a shaky breath.

"I'm not- I'm fine," Bucky assures, grip on you loosening.

"Are you sure? We don't have to do this. I don't want to pressure you into anything that you-"

"You aren't pressurin' me into anything, sweetheart." His voice is a defeated sigh. "It's just—" he shakes his head. "Really sensitive."

You blink at him for a moment, brain slow to connect the pieces of the puzzle laid before you. Seconds tick by as you finally start to work it out. Your eyes shift between his embarrassed smile, the hand on your thigh, your bare legs and his, frankly intimidatingly, hard cock, pre cum oozing like pearls over perfect pink skin.

Oohhh.

Oh.

"Buck-" you start, a teasing smile creeping across your face.

"Angel, don't." Bucky fixes you with a rather intimidating look, but you press on, no longer daunted by him.

"Bucky..." you press. "Were you gonna com-" You can't say another word as he interrupts, cheeks flushing bright red.

"It's been a long time, okay?" he explains, blush spreading to his ears.

"How long?"

"Longer than you've been alive."

“That long?” You balk. “Even after you coming back and - not even then?”

“When would I have had the time? Between tryna figure out who I am plus meeting and dealing with you, I didn’t really have all that free time to get it on” Bucky explains, fingers creeping up your thigh to squeeze the fat at your hip.

"you did not just say get it on."

“what was i meant to say?”

"i don’t know, anything but that!"

[adragonprinceswhore]

One Whore Is As Good As Another

Aemond x Brothel worker x (drunk) Aegon

Summary: Desperate to prove he's no mere boy, Prince Aemond leaves his taunting brother and seeks out another conquest. Momentarily, he feels back in control, until his brother reappears.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, reader is a brothel worker and has Valyrian features, targcest, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), face fuccin', P in V, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, titty slapping, humiliation, degradation, dysfunctional brothers

Word Count: 2000

A/N: I had this idea when I read the leaks for episode 3, and let's just say Aegon's awfulness worked great as inspiration. Filthy drabble ahead!

You've seen Prince Aemond's long, silver hair flash by in the corner of your eye countless times in the past weeks.

You never get the chance to observe the prince up close. He only appears fleetingly, confidently striding through the Blue Pearl towards the room where Madame Sylvie awaits him.

She seems to be his favourite; the only one allowed to touch the imposing young man. Sometimes he spends hours with her, though you are not privy to the details. All you know is that most men entering your place of employment conduct much shorter visits.

You do not envy your madame. Entertaining a Targaryen prince is no easy feat, from what you've heard.

Still, you do wonder what it would be like to catch his eye. For him to choose you, like he had chosen the madame.

Had he ever caught sight of you, like you did him? Had he ever seen the shimmer of your silver hair reflect in the corner of his eye?

Does you Valyrian heritage look as alluring as that of the statuesque prince, despite being born a bastard?

These thoughts had merely been fugitive, indulgent fantasies.

Until tonight.

Prince Aemond stands naked in the middle of the vast space in the heart of the Blue Pearl, seeing eye gazing out over the intertwined bodies moving in differing rhythms.

No one had asked for your services as of yet, and you'd therefore been tasked with refilling chalices and plates for the patrons.

The prince's gaze settles on you as you pour wine into a few cups scattered around, ensuring no one chases pleasure parched.

He walks towards you in slow, confident steps, seemingly uncaring that he is fully nude.

'Tis a brothel after all.

Placing the decanter back on the table, you curtsey as he draws near; trembling fingers fumbling with the thin material of your gown,

"Wine, your grace?"

"Do you work here?"

'Tis not the wine that caught his attention.

"Yes. How may I be of service?"

His eye scans the place, searching for a more secluded spot. He gestures towards a plush settee tucked away in a corner with a nod, prompting you to follow him there.

Walking next to the prince, you can truly admire the sharp features of his face. His hair is as fetching up close, and his skin resembles milk; so clear and smooth.

Clean.

Not fit for the filthy surroundings you'd been brought up in.

"Are you my uncle's bastard?"

His query catches you off guard,

"I-, I do not know, your grace. Mayhaps"

You could be his cousin.

Or his sister.

It matters little here; the gods had decided both of your fates when they ruled it fair he be born a prince and you a bastard to a whore in Flea Bottom.

Despite the evident uncertainty, your answer seems to please him.

Prince Aemond's hums, seeing eye narrowing and the right corner of his mouth twitching briefly, perhaps nearly breaking into a smile.

The possibility of you being his uncle's daughter excites him.

"Lay down"

You do as told, reclining on the settee. The corner the two of you occupy is fairly out of sight, yet there is no curtain hindering wandering eyes from seeing your act. It surprises you that the otherwise secretive prince would chose such an exposed place for your coupling, yet you say nothing.

The choice is his.

He inspects your form as you lie down; gaze traveling from the round softness of your breasts to the smooth skin of your inner thighs. The gown you wear leaves little hidden, and the prince's searing stare causes your heart to drum quicker in your chest.

The unpredictability of what he'll do next; of what he wants from you, causes as much unease within you as the determined look in his eye elicits.

He hums, head nodding faintly to himself, before he moves towards you, lifting one long, lean leg so he may straddle your chest.

His cock is right by your mouth, already growing larger as he gazes down at your face underneath him.

Perhaps 'tis the gaining of control that arouses the prince so; seeing you laid out for him with nothing but obedience to offer.

He feeds you his half-hard cock; not too brutish to force it all in your mouth at once. A prince still keeps his manners, you suppose.

Taking him in, you feel the skin of his member; hot and with a taste like salt. It's heavy in your mouth, and the awkward position the prince has you in does not allow you much movement.

He looks down at you; one eye stoney and unmoving, with shadows and light dancing in it. The other expressive and fierce.

Hungry.

Both his hands grab the back of the seat as he leans forward, forcing more of his cock down your throat. It prevents you from breathing, yet you do your best to appease him, sucking and swallowing him to the best of your ability.

You feel his balls slap your chin as he rocks into your mouth, pleased grunts escaping his lips.

A few more thrusts and you start to feel dizzy, not receiving enough air with the prince's manhood in your mouth and his lower belly pressed up against your nose.

You gently tap his leg and he abruptly pulls away from you, hurriedly moving off of you to stand next to the settee.

You cough as you inhale air once again, looking up at him with glassy eyes and wet lips, shining with spit.

His face is still harsh and demanding, and your gaze flickers down to his cock.

Decorated in your spit, it has grown double in size and is now red; like vexed skin after a beating.

You lay still, breathing rapidly to regain your senses. After giving you a moment to calm, Prince Aemond gestures for you to stand, and sits down on the settee.

He grabs your hips, dragging you towards his lap, and so 'tis your time to straddle him, take his cock in hand and sink down on it.

You know how to play these games. You know how to appease the men seeking your touch. Still, the moan you emit as you take in the prince is not solely performative; the stretch of his member fills you to the point of pain.

You bite your lip in a vain effort to concentrate, set on pleasing and serving your prince. Moving up and down in a slow pace, you grow wetter and more accustomed to his intrusion, and soon, your own pleasure follows.

"A-, ah, Prince Aemond", you call out, hoping the flattery will make him favour you even more. Mayhaps as much as he favours your madame.

He grunts and places his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so he may rest his face against your scarcely clad bosom. He's enjoying you; reveling in your cunt, and it feels like the highest of praise.

You continue to call his title, his name, moving faster and harsher up and down his length, until,

"Brother!"

You catch the flash of a figure stumbling towards you in the corner of your eye, certain you know who it is before looking up;

King Aegon.

His lips are curved into a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded and hair tousled,

"I knew you had it in ya!"

The king ends his exclamation with a slur, clearly far too drunk to be staggering around Flea Bottom unattended.

You'd never been eye to eye with the king before; word around the street was that he found the Blue Pearl far too dull. He requires more to quench his thirst for depravity.

And yet, seeing you ride his brother's cock seems to be to his liking,

"Come on, girl, ride the dragon!", King Aegon shouts before falling into a fit of laughter. His hand smacks your arse as if you were a mare, urging you to go faster.

You search the prince's face for approval, but he's not looking at you anymore. His dark gaze is trained on his brother; still harsh and determined. You take his silence for compliance and move faster; quick breaths of exhaustion and moans of pleasure slipping out from your still wet lips.

"Making her do all the work-",

Aegon's still laughing between the words he slurs out. Standing behind you, one of his hands move to cup your left breast, and he squeezes it roughly; too drunk to appreciate tenderness,

"-I can see why"

Prince Aemond is still silent; still staring at his amused brother.

"No, no, no, this won't do", the king mumbles as he releases the harsh grip he'd had on your breast,

"Remove your gown, bastard"

Again, you seek Prince Aemond's eye for instruction, but he does not grant it. So, you grab the hem of your thin attire and pull it off over your head, exposing yourself to the Targaryen brothers.

'Tis not like you've never been naked before; you entertain most guests nude. Still, there's something about the royals' presence, their ongoing, silent battle, that leaves you feeling more exposed than ever before.

King Aegon hums in appreciation at the sight of your bare teats, the same rough hand coming up to slap the side of one of them, chuckling as they knock together.

You pick up the pace to ride your prince again, yet the king does not leave you be. His voice is still amused, though tinted with something darker, as he commands his brother,

"I want to see you fuck her like a hound, Aemond"

The prince does not reply, and your pace does not falter. You were tasked with pleasuring the prince, and if he did not reply to his brother's orders, neither would you.

Though he is your king.

"Fuck her like a hound! Come on!"

King Aegon sounds more agitated now; impatient. He does not like that his brother does not obey him instantaneously; that he would refuse an order.

The prince is as stubborn as his elder, and in between the brothers, is you;

Caught between two dragons waging a war of wills.

"Get up", Prince Aemond grits through clenched teeth.

You comply, standing swiftly only to be turned and roughly placed back on the settee on your knees.

The prince places a hand on your lower back, pushing you to arch, and enters you in one stroke, reaching far deeper than your previous position had allowed.

He quickly sets a brutal pace; fucking your squelching cunt harsh and quick.

You desperately hold on to the back of the seat, vainly searching for some control as the prince takes his pleasure from you.

Behind you, you hear his laboured breaths and grunts, and the entertained cackle of the king,

"That's more like it!"

He walks around the settee to face you; watching your body as it sways back and forward with the prince's rough thrusts.

Leaning in closely, so closely that his wine-soaked breath is right by your cheek, King Aegon inquires, "How does royal cock feel?"

You know how to play these games.

"Heavenly, your grace"

He hums and touches a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger, "Is that what your mother thought as well?"

He does not bother with waiting for an answer from you; truly, he's not interested in knowing. Instead, he circles the settee yet again to stand next to his brother, mesmerised by the sight of his cock driving in and out of you,

"Where on her will you spill?"

Prince Aemond stays silent, pace never faltering.

“Face, teats or arse?”, his brother asks, but before his stoic sibling answers, he decides for him,

"Spill on her face. You got to appreciate those, uh, familiar features"

A few more rough strokes and the prince pulls out, grabs your waist, and turns you around so that you face them both. He pushes on your shoulder in a silent order for you to get on the floor, once again with his member in your face.

With a quick hand he strokes his slick cock, seed shooting out like arrows, landing on your cheeks, in your hair, on your lips.

He's breathing heavily, yet does not say anything, nor does he moan or grunt. He simply decorates your face in pearly luminescence, matching your silver hair and lilac eyes.

When he's done, he turns, and you see his older brother lay a comradery hand on his shoulder, commending him for "a good fuck".

As the brothers walk away together, you see the tension in Prince Aemond's shoulders ease ever so slightly.

The burdens of being a royal.

A/N: If the HotD writers want Aemond to be obsessed with his uncle, I'll comply! I like to write these little drabbles as a fun way to practice writing without much pressure, so please be kind, it's all just for fun!

[acid-ixx]

mild spoilers for chapter six for my series again &. again, but i really feel the need to ramble about this, and i'd love to hear anybody's opinion on this hehe.

as i write outline chapter six (and write for chapter five), i'd like to say i couldn't wait to write the reader's face reveal in bruce's perspective. and it's not just angst, for me, this plays a very pivotal turn for the series— because bruce will spiral to insanity.

to never once see a single portrait of your second youngest child, whose presence has long been erased from the manor, not a single image, nor trace of you is sickening to the heart, even if he scours through the internet day and night for a single memoir of you, nothing— but to find your portrait in alfred's living quarters and seeing you for the first time in forever? graduating a milestone no less?

god, he's in for a ride just analyzing every aspect of your physical appearance.

the color of your eyes, the shape of your nose, the quip of your mouth, the fat in your cheeks; even the length of your lashes! god, does he brand it into the deepest parts of his mind to never forget you anymore. his pearl, his treasure.

the longer he stares, the more he notices and gazes even more, obsessive as he stands lonesome in the room with every bone in his body locking up, his eyes unable to look away from the portrait that showcases his baby child.

and there, there it is that he concludes a detail so small it's unrecognizable for someone who's seen it for his entire life; yet it's all the same triggered deranged emotions deep within him.

— you don't just share him and your mother's traits, no, your smile is also reminiscent of his mother's.

martha wayne, who'd died in his arms, laying in a pool of her blood with a bullet grazed deep inside her body. his loving mother, who caressed his face whenever he'd cry from his nightmares, who'd shown him motherly love that until now he still craves.

she died with her pearl necklace that once decorated her porcelain neck spilling to the ground and stained with crimson.

you wore pearl earrings on your graduation.

the thought alone is enough for him to just snap.

this? this is the child that he's been neglecting far too long? who shares the same, loving expression of his mother's? his child? not even a single memory could be conjured with you but fantasies now do. if your happiest moments were within the picture frame that he holds with shivering fingers at present; could your smile be any wider if you'd be with him?

how come he never once noticed? why is bruce always destined to fail left and right? why, just why is he brimming with jealousy for all the people who must've seen your smile before him, and contempt for himself that he was never there to pick you up from the police station beforehand?

bruce isn't a heckler for favoritism, but a darker part of him is motivated to take you away from wherever you are, and to never let anybody else witness his beautiful, little treasure.

he's gotham's knight, first and foremost. but he's a father, too, with goals to protect his children just like a father should.

and the things he'd do for you, his child, now? anything.

if it means he has to see that smile, then he'll turn the world upside-down.

he has to protect your smile.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ pretty little thing, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it is a rare quiet morning for you and joe. while you plan to sleep in and take it easy, your husband has other more active plans.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: my first joe fic, everybody cheer!! i did not plan for it to be this long but she's fresh, she's cute, i like her. i hope you all like it <333 requests are open for headcanons, texts, blurbs, fics, etc.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, penetration, very slight praise kink, fingering, joe is pussy drunk fr fr.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x black!wife!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.7k.

You stirred in the bed, the morning light creeping through the blinds. The soft hum of the city outside barely registered in your sleep-laden ears. The bed shifted as Joe's arm snaked around your waist, gently pulling you closer. "Morning, beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his playful gaze. "Mornin'," you mumbled, still clinging to the last vestiges of sleep.

Joe leaned in, kissing you gently. "No meetings today?"

You yawned, stretching languidly. "Nope, not a single one."

Joe's grin grew wolfish. "Perfect," he said, his hand sliding down to your thigh. His voice was low, his eyes dark with desire.

You giggled, swatting at him playfully. "What are you doing, you hornball?"

Joe's grin only grew wider. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, his hand continuing its journey under the covers.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "It's barely seven in the morning, Joe."

"Exactly," Joe said, his hand reaching its destination and squeezing at your ass, causing you to gasp. "We've got all day to do whatever we want."

"And what is it that you want to do?" You asked, your voice teasing as you felt his fingers dance along your skin.

Joe's eyes lit up with mischief. "I want to fuck my gorgeous wife," he said bluntly, his voice thick with lust.

You rolled your eyes again, feigned annoyance lacing your tone. "Always so romantic," you teased, even as your body responded to his touch.

"Well, it's been a while since we had a morning like this," Joe said, his hand moving between your legs, stroking you lightly. "I want to make it count."

Your giggles turned into moans as Joe's fingers found their mark, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body as they danced over your sensitive pearl. "You're insatiable," you murmured, your manicured hands gripping the strands of his blonde hair as your lips found each other again in a heated kiss.

Your foreplay grew more intense, Joe's hand working your body with the precision of a maestro, drawing out your pleasure with every stroke. Your breath hitched as his thumb circled your clit, your legs trembling against his muscular thigh. You could feel him growing hard against you, his arousal pressing into your side.

"Fuck me, Joe," you whispered, your voice needy as the ache between your legs grew.

With a low growl, Joe complied, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself above you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, as he entered you in one smooth thrust. You arched your back, your nails digging into the bed sheets as Joe began to move. He was rough and unrelenting, your bodies slapping together in a rhythm that filled the room with the sound of passion.

Joe's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze matching the force of his movements. "You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice strained with effort. "I can't get enough of you."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's words sent a jolt of pleasure through you. "You talk too much," you gasped, your own voice laced with desire.

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he said, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crazy with want. His hips slammed into yours, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady beat that echoed your passion.

You wrapped your legs around Joe's waist, pulling him deeper, urging him faster. You were wet and ready for him, your body responding to his every touch like a finely tuned instrument. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he picked up the pace, your bodies moving in a symphony of need.

Your lovemaking was raw and uninhibited, a dance you'd perfected over the years. You knew each other's bodies so well, every curve and dip, every sensitive spot that could send the other spiraling over the edge. As Joe thrust into you, your eyes locked, a silent communication passing between you that was as intimate as your joined bodies.

“Come on, baby, take this dick,” Joe urged, his voice gruff with desire as he pumped into you with a fervor that left you gasping for air. You could feel the tension building within you, your core tightening around him with every powerful stroke. The bed creaked in protest under your combined weight, the sound melding with your moans and gasps.

“You’re going to make me come, Joey,” you panted, your eyes glazed with passion.

“That’s the plan,” he replied with a wicked smile, increasing his pace. He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly, your breaths growing shallower with each thrust.

Your walls tightened around him, your moans turning into a high-pitched whine. Her nails dug into his back, leaving trails of fire on his skin. The sight of your pleasure, the feel of your body clamping down on his, was too much for Joe to resist. He bit his lip, fighting to hold back his own climax. But as your cries grew louder, he lost all control, driving into you with a fierce growl.

“Shit, baby.” Joe groaned as his climax neared, his hips moving erratically. He felt your body tense, your legs quivering around him. “You gonna come for me?” he asked, his voice thick with passion.

“Fuck yes, Joe, I’m coming!” Your moans only served to push Joe further into his trance. “Wanna come for you,” you whined into his ear.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, be a good girl for me, aren’t you baby?” Joe whispered, his eyes gleaming as he watched the ecstasy play out on your face. You nodded, your breaths coming in short pants, your eyes fluttering closed.

The tension between you grew palpable, until finally, your back arched off the bed with a scream of pleasure. Joe’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt you tighten around him, your muscles pulsing in a delicious rhythm that sent him hurtling over the edge. He filled you with his seed, your bodies shuddering in unison as you reached your peak.

You lay there for a moment, panting and spent, your hearts racing in sync. Joe’s chest heaved with the exertion, his body slick with sweat, as he collapsed onto yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, savoring the feeling of his warmth against your skin.

"I love you," Joe murmured, kissing your neck softly.

"I love you too," you whispered, your voice still trembling from your orgasm.

As you lay there, Joe’s mind drifted to his morning routine, his thoughts of a hard workout fighting against the post-coital bliss. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you. "You coming to the gym with me?"

You groaned, playing coy. "After that performance, I might need a nap first."

Joe chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Come on," he said, kissing the tip of your nose. "It'll do you good."

You sighed dramatically, but the twinkle in your eye gave you away. "Fine, but you're carrying me there."

With a smirk, Joe didn't need further prompting. He hoisted you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, your squeals of surprise turning into laughter. Her long coils cascaded down his back as he marched towards your closet, his bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. You playfully slapped at his backside, trying to wriggle free, but his grip was firm.

"You're not getting out of this," he said, his voice filled with good-natured determination.

"Put me down, Joe," you giggled, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you attempted to squirm away.

"Nope, you said you'd come with me, so you're coming," Joe said with a smug grin, his muscles flexing as he set you down in the walk-in closet, turning to find your workout gear.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny the thrill of excitement that shot through you. It had been too long since you'd had the energy to keep up with Joe's intense workout routines. You watched him rummage through your neatly organized space, his toned ass on full display in his boxer briefs. Despite your protests, you felt a familiar stirring of excitement.

He pulled out matching sets of black workout clothes, tossing yours onto the bed. "You can thank me later," he said, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

With a mock pout, you slipped into your gear, your curves hugged tightly by the spandex. You had to admit, it felt good to be out of your business attire and into something that allowed you to move freely. Joe couldn't help but steal glances at you as you made your way to the home gym. You caught him looking and shot him a playful glare, which only made him grin wider.

Once in the gym, Joe turned on his workout playlist, the bass-heavy beats filling the space and setting the mood. You warmed up together, stretching your muscles in a tug of flexibility and strength. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you watched Joe move with such grace and power. He'd always been fit, but his dedication to his career had sculpted him into something truly awe-inspiring.

You began your workout, Joe lifting weights that seemed impossibly heavy while you hit the treadmill. Despite your initial hesitation, you found that your body was responding well to the exertion. You pushed yourself, the endorphins flooding your system as you picked up speed, feeling the burn in your legs. The scent of sweat and effort filled the air, a heady mix that was oddly intoxicating.

Joe caught your eye from across the room, his own workout taking on a more intense edge. You were both so focused on your routines, yet couldn't help but steal glances at each other. The way your breasts bounced with each step on the treadmill, the way Joe's biceps bulged with every curl. You were both aware of the effect you had on each other, the sexual tension building again as the minutes ticked by.

You stepped off the treadmill, your body glistening with sweat. You grabbed a towel from the rack and wiped your face, watching Joe from the corner of your eye. He was doing lunges now, his thighs flexing with each powerful movement. You couldn't help but lick your lips, remembering how those same muscles had felt under your fingertips earlier.

"You okay over there?" Joe called out, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught you ogling him.

You laughed, snapping out of your daze. "Fine, just admiring the view," you said with a wink, grabbing a set of dumbbells.

Joe's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Keep that up, and I might have to show you some more of the view," he teased, not missing a beat in his lunges.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks gave you away. You began your dumbbell routine, the clanking of the weights a metronome to the pounding bass of Joe's playlist. You worked out in tandem, your movements synchronized despite the different exercises. Joe couldn't help but admire your dedication, and the way you pushed yourself despite your initial protests. You'd always been strong, not just physically, but mentally as well. Her resilience was one of the things that had first drawn him to you all those years ago.

The air grew thick with your exertion, the scent of sweat and pheromones a potent cocktail that only added to the tension. As Joe moved to the bench press, he watched your ass dip as you did squats, your toned muscles flexing with each descent. His eyes traced the lines of your body, memorizing every curve, every inch. It was all he could do to focus on his own workout, his thoughts wandering to the delicious ways he'd like to explore your body again once you were done.

You felt his gaze on you, and you couldn't help but push yourself harder, a smirk playing on your lips as you caught his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. You knew exactly what he was thinking, and it only served to stoke the fire within you. You'd always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and the idea of Joe watching you, wanting you, was incredibly arousing.

You pushed through your routines, the room echoing with the sound of your breaths and the clank of metal. Your muscles began to burn, but you didn't stop, your eyes never leaving Joe's reflection. You could see his own workout was taking its toll on him, his face a mask of concentration and effort. Yet, you knew he was just as aware of you as you were of him. It was a silent game of seduction played out amidst the grunts and groans of exertion.

As Joe finished his last set of bench presses, he looked over at you, who was now doing some ab work. Her stomach muscles rippled as you worked through the last of your crunches. With the final crunch, you sat up, catching Joe's eye and sticking your tongue out playfully. He chuckled, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. You'd always had this playful, competitive streak in your relationship, and it was clear you was enjoying pushing his buttons as much as he enjoyed pushing yours.

You decided to take a quick break, chugging water and wiping the sweat from your faces. You couldn't help but lean into Joe's side, feeling the heat of his body against yours. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly. "Shower?” he suggested, his voice low and filled with promise.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Race you," you said, taking off at a sprint towards the bathroom. Joe chuckled, following close behind. You stumbled into the shower, your laughter echoing off the tiles as you both struggled to get the temperature just right. The water cascaded down your bodies, washing away the grime of your workout and leaving you gleaming.

Under the spray, Joe's hands found your body, his touch gentle, cherishing the casual intimacy as the warm water hit your skin. You leaned into him, your head tilting back to allow the water to run down your neck and over your breasts. The shower was a cocoon of steam and sensuality as you took turns washing each other, your eyes locked, smiles playing on your lips.

“Alright, what’s going on up there?” You asked as you looked at Joe, your eyes twinkling with loving concern, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’ve been avoiding having any real conversation all morning, Joe.” Her voice was soft, not accusatory, just curious.

Joe sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned against the shower wall. The hot water beat down on his broad back, the steam obscuring the tension in his face. There was no point in hiding his thoughts from his wife. You knew him better than anyone else, and you’d be the first to call him out on his mood swings. You knew exactly what made him tick.

"It's the team," Joe began, his voice echoing off the tiles. "We're playing like shit." He paused, his eyes closing briefly as the warm spray washed over his face. "The defense is a joke, and the coaching...it's just not there."

Your eyes softened, and you reached out to gently rub his chest. You knew how much the game meant to him, how much he put into it. "You're doing everything you can, Joe," you reassured him, your voice soothing. "Everyone can see that you're playing out of your mind. best QB rating in the league, over 80% completion, anyone with a brain knows you’re not the problem Joe.”

Joe leaned into your touch, his eyes still closed. "It's just...frustrating," he admitted. "I feel like I'm carrying the whole team on my back."

Your hand stilled on his chest, your expression serious. "You know I'm here for you, right?" you said, your voice steady. "Through all of it."

Joe's eyes snapped open, meeting yours. "I do," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And I'm sorry for taking it out on you. I know I’m a dickhead sometimes with my moods. It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

"You are a dickhead sometimes," You teased lightly, your fingers tracing the contours of Joe's abs, eliciting a chuckle from him. "But, unfortunately, I love you for it. I love seeing how passionate you are about your work.”

The warm water cascaded over you, mixing with your laughter as Joe leaned in to kiss you. It was a gentle kiss, one that spoke of your deep connection and understanding. It was moments like these that made you realize how much you'd missed in your usually hectic lives. You pulled away slightly, your gaze searching his.

"Thank you," Joe murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. "For everything."

You nodded, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "Always," you said softly. “I’d do anything just to see you at peace. You know that."

Joe's arms tightened around you, his eyes searching yours. "I know," he murmured. "You’ve stuck by me through everything, even when I didn’t deserve it." He leaned in to kiss you again, his hand sliding down to cup your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“From the minute I touched down at LSU, you were there, pushing me to be better, supporting me when I doubted myself,” Joe said, his eyes filled with gratitude. “You’ve been my rock through all the shit, babe.”

Her own eyes misted over, you leaned into him. “And you were there for me when I needed it most,” you whispered. “When my whole world was falling apart.”

Joe nodded, remembering your darkest days, post-surgery. The pain, the doubt, the fear that you’d never play your sport again. He’d held your hand through it all, encouraging you to keep pushing, to find a new passion. And you had, in him and in the success of his football career.

You stood there, bodies entwined, the water beating down on your skin, sharing a moment of quiet understanding. It was in these moments that you felt closest, stripped of your public personas and your individual ambitions, just two people in love.

"You know," you began, your voice still soft, "You could always talk to someone about it. Maybe it's time to have a sit-down with the coaches?"

Joe sighed, his eyes closing briefly. "It's complicated," he said. "I don't want to be the guy who throws the team under the bus."

You nodded, understanding his dilemma. "But Joe, you're not throwing anyone under the bus," you said, your voice firm. "You're expressing your frustration, and that's okay. It's not about blame, it's about finding a solution."

Joe looked at you, his gaze intense. "I just want to win," he admitted. "For the team, for the city, for us."

"I know," you said, your voice soothing. "But you can't carry the weight of everyone's expectations on your shoulders. It's not fair to you when you’re playing your ass off and they can’t give you some help."

Joe nodded, his grip on you tightening slightly. He knew you were right, but it was hard to let go of the pressure he felt. "I'll talk to them," he said, his voice a little defeated. "But I can't promise anything."

You leaned up to kiss his neck, your teeth grazing his skin. "That's all I'm asking, baby," you murmured. "Just talk to them. Maybe it'll help."

Joe nodded, his resolve strengthening as your lips moved down his body. He knew you were right. He couldn't keep carrying the weight of the team's failures on his own. He had to trust that his voice would be heard and that changes could be made.

You stepped out of the shower, the cool air a stark contrast to the steamy warmth you'd just shared. You reached for a towel, wrapping it around your body and releasing your hair from its confines underneath your shower cap. As Joe toweled off, he couldn't help but appreciate the artistry of your singular tattoo, the way it danced over your muscles as you moved. It was a constant reminder of the fierce strength that lay beneath your softness.

"Come on," he said, taking your hand. "Let's get dressed and order some breakfast. I'm starving."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, but no more distractions," you warned, swatting him playfully on the ass.

"Scout's honor," Joe said with a grin, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

In the bedroom, you quickly dried off and threw on your clothes, your bodies still humming with energy from your workout and the passionate kiss you'd shared in the shower. Your mind wandered to the kitchen, picturing the ingredients you had in mind for a hearty breakfast to fuel Joe for the day ahead. Heading downstairs, you felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of cooking for him. It was a small gesture, but one that you knew meant a lot to Joe, especially when his days were packed with practice and meetings.

Joe followed you, his eyes tracing the way your hips swayed in the oversized LSU Football shirt. Despite his earlier promise to behave, he couldn't resist slipping his hand under the fabric to squeeze your ass as you walked in front of him. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, but your smile gave away your amusement. You knew he was just teasing you, trying to get a rise out of you. It was a dance you'd been doing for years, and you found it both infuriating and endearing.

“Instead of ordering, let me cook for you today," you offered as you descended the stairs, the plush carpet cushioning your bare feet. "It's been too long since I've had the chance to take care of you."

Joe's eyes lit up. "You don't have to, babe," he protested weakly, knowing full well that he'd lost that battle the moment you'd suggested it.

"I know," you said with a smirk. "But I want to make sure my man eats good. You give it to me so good, I wanna reward you. Now sit down, I'll handle it," you instructed as you pushed him onto one of the high-backed chairs at the kitchen island.

Joe obeyed, watching as you tied your hair back in a messy bun, revealing the nape of your neck. He found himself craving another taste of you, but he knew he had to be good for now. He leaned back, his eyes tracing the curves of your body as you moved around the kitchen, pulling out pans and ingredients with the ease of a seasoned chef. The sound of sizzling bacon filled the air, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

You began to prep a feast fit for a king. You whipped up eggs, topped with cheese and chives, crispy bacon, and a side of avocado toast. You knew Joe's diet was strict, but today was a day for indulgence. Plus, you knew he had earned it.

“Ja’Marr’s been complaining about that dinner we had to reschedule last week, says you owe him a home-cooked meal next home game,” Joe said, scrolling through his phone. He watched your expression as you cracked eggs into the sizzling pan, your brows furrowing slightly in concentration.

You chuckled. “Tell him to wait his turn. I’ve got my hands full cooking for one hornball Bengal today. I don’t need another one begging me for food,” you teased, flipping the eggs with a practiced flick of your wrist. “Matter of fact, tell him to bring his child next time he wants to eat my food. Maybe he’ll learn some manners from his son.”

Joe’s laugh echoed through the kitchen, his eyes never leaving his wife as you worked your magic. You had always been so fiery, so full of passion and sass. It was one of the things he loved most about you. “You’re gonna have to text him that yourself, babe,” Joe said, holding up his phone. “But maybe save the hornball comment for when we’re alone. I don’t need to hear it from him all week at practice.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips. You grabbed your phone from the counter and shot a quick text to your friend. “Consider it done,” you said, setting the phone aside to focus on the meal. The kitchen was alive with the sounds of sizzling bacon and the occasional clang of a pan. The smell of breakfast filled the room, a comforting aroma that seemed to melt away the last of Joe’s tension.

As you moved around the kitchen, Joe’s eyes followed you, taking in every movement, every curve. Her body was a testament to your dedication to maintaining your health, your strength and grace evident even in the simple act of cooking. He felt himself growing hard again, his body eager to claim you once more.

"I swear, if you don't stop looking at me like that, this breakfast is going to be ruined," you warned, tossing a piece of bacon at him. He caught it with a grin, popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly, his eyes still glued to you.

Joe couldn’t resist. He slid off the chair and approached you, his bare feet silent on the cool kitchen tiles. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him. You giggled, trying to shoo him away with the spatula, but your protests were weak.

"Joseph," you scolded, but your voice was playful, not stern. You could feel his arousal pressing into your backside, and you had to admit, it was tempting.

"Come on, honey," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "Just a little taste," he begged, nibbling at your ear.

Your resolve wavered. You could feel his hands roaming over your hips, his fingers inching closer to the apex of your thighs. "Joe," you warned, your voice laced with amusement. "I'm trying to do something for you."

"And I'm trying to do something for you," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He pressed closer, his erection nudging against your backside. "Let me just return the favor."

You felt the heat pool in your belly, the flames of desire flickering back to life. "Baby," you warned again, this time with a hint of a whine.

Joe chuckled, his grip tightening as he kissed your neck. "Please," he whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

You tried to resist, but Joe's hands were already working your magic. He reached around and cupped your breasts, his thumbs circling your hardened nipples. You gasped, dropping the spatula as you leaned back into him. He took that as the invitation it was meant to be and ground his hips against yours, his length pressing into you. "See?" he murmured, his teeth grazing your ear. "I know exactly what you need."

Your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. "You're so annoying," you managed to say, but your voice was thick with need.

Joe chuckled, his hands sliding down your body until they found the hem of your, or rather his, t-shirt. He began to lift it, his knuckles brushing against your bare skin as he revealed your stomach. You squirmed, trying to focus on cooking, but it was a futile effort. His touch was intoxicating, his presence overwhelming.

"Joe," you said, your voice a breathy whisper. "The food."

"Fuck the food," he growled, his hands continuing to lift the shirt from your body. He tossed it aside, revealing your bare breasts and a black g-string he didn’t recognize. His cock twitched with approval. "What’s this? New lingerie for me?"

You turned in his arms, your own desire flaring up at his words. You pushed him back playfully, your eyes dark with passion. "If you want to eat, you'll let me cook," you said, your voice a seductive purr.

Joe's smile didn’t reach his full expression. His blue eyes darkened as he took in the sight of his darling wife, half-dressed and flushed with arousal. He stepped back into his position behind you, giving your ass a firm spank before squeezing a toned cheek in his large hand. Your head fell forward with a gasp as you tried to compose yourself, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily at the sudden roughness.

If he heard your challenge, he paid it no mind. Hand coming up once more to deliver another smack to your ass, he watched the flesh jiggle before bending down to kiss the tender spot he’d just abused. His tongue darted out to taste your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched, the heat between you palpable as Joe’s hands wandered further down, his fingertips tracing the damp fabric that barely covered your sex.

“We can multitask,” Joe murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot where his hand last made contact with your ass. His fingertips danced over the fabric of your underwear, teasing the entrance to your warmth.

Your hands tightened around the handle of the spatula as you bit back a moan. "Joe," you protested again, though your voice was less steady this time. You knew he could feel you tremble against him, could see the way your pussy was already growing wet. You tried to push him away, but your legs felt like jelly, your resolve dissolving with every touch.

"Cut the stove off," Joe said, his voice a low growl. "I'm gonna have to eat something else." His hand slipped the g-string to the side, his fingers finding your slick folds. Your knees nearly buckled as he began to circle your entrance, your eyes fluttering shut. You knew you had lost.

Your hands scrambled to turn the stove off, the sizzle of the bacon fading into the background as Joe’s touch grew more insistent. He didn’t wait for permission, sliding the panties down with a groan of appreciation that echoed through the kitchen. Your slick heat was all he could think about, all he wanted to taste. He dropped to his knees behind you, his eyes feasting on your bare ass and the smell of the glistening pussy he could already see fluttering with desire.

“Put your knee on the counter,” Joe whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his intense gaze before you complied, your heart racing. You knew where this was heading and you couldn’t wait.

Joe swore to himself as he watched your pussy spread for him. Your hands grasped at the counter for balance as your pussy continued to flutter with anticipation. He hummed in appreciation as his strong hands gripped your ass, pulling you even further apart. His tongue flicked out, tasting the sweetness of your arousal as you gasped, your body taut with need. He took his time, savoring the moment, exploring every inch of you with his mouth.

You couldn’t help but lean further over the counter. Her pretty little pussy was on full display to him, almost begging for his mouth. Joe took full advantage, burying his face in your wetness. He sucked eagerly at your clit while one of his thumbs circled your entrance, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your moans grew louder, echoing through the kitchen as you lost yourself in the sensation. Her hand reached back to grip his hair, pulling him closer, silently demanding more.

Joe was more than happy to oblige. His tongue delved into you, tasting you deep, feeling your muscles tighten around his thumb. Your hips began to rock back into him, your moans turning into cries of pleasure. You were so close, so beautifully close to the edge, and Joe could feel his dick throb with the anticipation of watching you fall over the edge. He picked up the pace, his tongue flicking faster against your clit, his thumb pressing deeper into you.

Your legs began to wobble as the intensity grew, your knuckles turning white as you clutched the counter. "Baby," you gasped, your voice strained. "You’re so good."

Joe groaned in response, his mouth never leaving you as he felt your orgasm building. He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you scream his name. And scream you did, your body convulsing as you came, your juices flooding his mouth. He drank you in, loving the taste of you, loving the way you felt as you lost control.

When you finally went still, panting and trembling, Joe stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fuck, you taste good," he murmured, his voice gruff with desire.

You turned to face him, your eyes glazed over with satisfaction. "Are you going to let me cook now?" you asked, though the playfulness in your tone suggested you didn't really mind the interruption.

“Nope. I need you to squirt that goodness all over me again, baby,” Joe said, his eyes glinting with mischief as he stepped closer to you, his own length straining against his sweatpants.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his audacity. But as he stepped closer, you felt your resolve melt away like butter in the pan. You leaned back against the counter, your body still humming from your orgasm. Joe stepped between your legs, his erection pressing against your stomach as he kissed you deeply. He gently lifted you up onto the counter, laying you back as his hands drew your long legs to rest on his broad shoulders.

He slid your thighs apart, revealing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. His cock throbbed in anticipation as he leaned in to kiss you again, his tongue delving into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your hips raising to meet his as he rubbed his clothes cock against your wet folds.

With a groan, Joe reached into his sweatpants and freed his erection, the tip already slick with pre-cum. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes glued to your pussy. You nodded, your breath coming in ragged pants as you gave him the unspoken permission he needed. With one swift movement, he slid into you, filling you completely. You both gasped as your bodies connected, the heat and friction setting off sparks that seemed to light up the kitchen.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me,” Joe growled, his voice thick with need as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your hands reaching for your breasts to pinch and squeeze your nipples as Joe’s rhythm grew more intense. You could feel your orgasm building again, the sensation coiling in your belly like a tight spring.

Joe’s grip on your thighs tightened, his hips moving faster, the slap of your bodies filling the kitchen. He leaned down to whisper dirty words in your ear, his breath hot and ragged, his eyes never leaving yours. "You like that, don’t you? Being fucked like this?"

“Yes, baby, yes,” you moaned, your eyes fluttering closed as Joe’s cock filled you completely, his strokes hitting all the right spots. You felt your climax approaching, your body tightening around him like a vice. “Fuck me.”

Joe’s eyes darkened at your words, his pace quickening as he pounded into you. He could feel your pussy grip him, your walls pulsing with each thrust. The sight of you spread out before him, your legs trembling with pleasure, was almost too much to handle. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he whispered more dirty words into your ear.

“Come for me, baby,” Joe urged, his voice strained with his own need. His strokes grew faster, more erratic, as he felt himself approaching the brink. “I wanna feel you come around me again."

Your eyes snapped open, your gaze locking onto Joe’s. You could feel the tension in his arms, the way his muscles flexed with each thrust. You knew he was close, and that knowledge only served to push you closer to the edge. With a cry, you shattered, your pussy clamping down on Joe’s cock as waves of pleasure crashed through you.

Joe groaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he felt your orgasm wash over him. He didn’t hold back, giving in to his own need as he thrust into you one final time, his cock pulsing with his release. You held onto each other for a moment, your breathing ragged, your bodies slick with sweat and desire.

Finally, Joe pulled out, his cock glistening with your combined juices. He stepped back, his eyes raking over your flushed body, still sprawled out on the kitchen counter. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the sight of you, so beautifully wrecked by his touch. "Fuck," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so sexy when you come like that, babe."

You couldn’t help the smug smile that curved your lips as you watched Joe try to compose himself. You knew you looked a mess, your hair sticking to your face, your body flushed and trembling, but you felt alive, more alive than you had in a long time.

"You think so?" you asked, your voice teasing. "Maybe I should just stay like this all day."

Joe chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you. "As tempting as that is, we both know we’d never get anything done if you stayed naked all day," he said, his eyes traveling over your body with a mix of admiration and desire. He reached for your hand, helping you hop off the counter. "But I'm not saying we can't revisit the idea another day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Maybe next time, you can actually let me cook breakfast," you said, though the smile on your face suggested you didn’t mind the detour.

Joe leaned in for a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. "Deal," he murmured against your mouth. "But only if you promise to let me eat you out again."

Your cheeks flushed, a giggle escaping you as you swatted his shoulder. "You're so horny all the time," you accused, though the spark in your eyes suggested you liked it.

"Can you blame me?" Joe retorted, his gaze roving over your naked body with a hunger that hadn’t been sated. "Look at you”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the smile from your lips as you bent down to pick up your discarded underwear. "You're so annoying," you teased, tossing the garment at him.

Joe caught it in midair, holding it up with a grin. "But you love it," he said, stepping closer to you. He stepped into your space, his own body still flushed from your recent activity. "And I'll never get enough of you."

You couldn't argue with that. You stepped into him, your body fitting against his perfectly as your mouths met in a kiss that was as sweet as it was passionate. You felt the heat of his body, the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm as you wrapped your arms around his neck. For a moment, the kitchen and the world outside it faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, your love and your desire.

When you broke apart, your smile was soft, your eyes warm with affection. "Let's get cleaned up and then eat," you said, your voice still breathless. "I didn’t make this food for nothing."

Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to help you plate the food. He placed a delicate kiss on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath making you shiver. You ate at the island, leaning into Joe’s muscular body as you stood naked together.

The scent of the crispy bacon and the eggs filled the kitchen, making your stomachs growl. You took your first bites, savoring the flavors that melded together perfectly. Despite your earlier distraction, the breakfast was heavenly, a testament to your culinary skills.

[luveline]

Hi love your work. I was wondering if you could do a role reversal of the bombshell!reader under anesthesia? One where Aaron woke up and has forgotten he's married to reader so is shocked at her affection (not in a bad way), he just can't believe this beautiful woman is flirting with snd comforting him?

thank you for requesting! fem

Aaron is woken by a soft, displeased hum. 

He pries sticky eyes apart to peek at the source, a woman his junior with a tray table wheeled in front of her. You have neat hands, clipped nails painted softest pink, a ring on your marriage finger, and a little pearl necklace that’s fallen free of your collar to swing as you pen a letter. No, not a letter. A case file. 

You’re a police officer? 

He turns the other way, hoping for a more familiar face, but the only inhabitants of the room are you, him, and his pounding headache. A groan slips past his lips unbidden, Aaron watching in real time as you look up like he’s shocked you. You turn sympathetic and softer, somehow, your face plucking a weird string in his chest. It’s almost like deja vu, but Aaron would remember being looked at like this. 

“You okay?” you ask quietly. 

He clears his throat. “What happened?” he asks hoarsely. Clearing his throat a second time proves more successful. “What happened?” 

“You were struck hard in the back of the head with a rifle. A few times, actually. Luckily nothing broke, but you have a cut and a bruise like nobody’s business. Try not to touch.” 

“What about the team?” 

He realises with a start that he can’t remember who he means. Were the team actually with him? Dave had been there, right? Derek? 

“Reid sprained his wrist. Everyone else is fine.” 

Reid, you said, and not Dr. Reid. Aaron frowns deeply, the headache a full, eye-deep pain that worsens when he props himself up on his elbows. 

You watch him carefully. After a moment, you push the table away from you and get up, turning to sit on his bed. He doesn’t let his eyes widen, not even as you place your hand on his stomach, imploring in your gentleness, leaning in to see him better. In that moment, you might be the most beautiful woman Aaron has ever seen; his heart does a great whirl, picking up its pace. He has just enough capacity to recognise how lucky he is to be detached from any observational tech. 

“What’s worrying you, Aaron?” you ask, thumb rubbing a line into the skin just below his stomach. A butterfly like a hawk beats behind your touch. “You have that strange pinch between your eyebrows.” You draw a line up his stomach, showing him how they’re pulled up. He must look near tears as you go. “You only get that when you’re scared, but everyone’s fine, I promise.” 

He must know you. You clearly know him, your tone alone settling his heart while his mind races. 

“You won’t be out of the field long, and you know I can do it for you while you’re gone. I’m capable,” you say. 

“You are,” he says. He’s telling the truth, though he doesn’t know how. 

You shuffle further up the bed. Aaron sits properly, forcing your hand to fall. You clasp his thigh on instinct, and that tumultuous zing of deja vu washes over him again. 

“You have the worst luck, handsome,” you murmur, rubbing at his leg, soothing him without thinking. 

“I…” He trails off as he catches sight of your wedding band. Silver-gold, a pear-shaped 3.00ct diamond. He chose it on a whim. Aaron nearly swallows his own tongue as he looks up, the memory of it not quite connecting to you. You. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You’re being so quiet,” he asks. 

“Well, you gave me a bad scare,” you say, leaning in further, unafraid to breathe his air. “I thought I lost you. It was terrifying.” 

The breathlessness in your confession is a barb. He grabs your hand where it lays and squeezes accordingly. “That won’t happen,” he promises. 

You turn your hand into his, slotting your fingers together deftly. “Do you remember me now, Hotchner?” you ask. 

He looks you straight in the eye. He doesn’t remember you, not really. But he remembers the size of your fingers threaded through his, and he remembers how nervous he’d tried not to be when he bought that ring, and he remembers your hand warming his thigh in the car every morning. 

“Almost,” he says. His breath catches. “You’re beautiful,” he says. 

“You said something similar the first time you woke up. I blamed the morphine for your puppy-eyes, but…” You smile at him fondly. “I don’t think you’re drugged enough to say it and not mean it, now.” 

“I mean it,” he says, nodding. “Of course I mean it.”

“I know.” You kiss his cheek. 

“Will you tell me your name?” he asks. 

You do, and Aaron falls in love with you all over again. 

[shotmrmiller]

your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.

you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.

apparently it wasn't.

after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)

you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.

his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.

then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.

he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.

"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.

praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?

"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."

that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.

but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.

"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."

you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.

"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"

he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.

"bloody fuckin' 'ell."

ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.

he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.

"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."

your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.

something you want him to keep hitting.

"exactly like i'd thought."

everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.

(inside o' ya, make you mine-)

(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)

(-ll to myself-)

you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.

(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)

if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.