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fushiguho · 1 month ago

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Curiosity & the Poor, Unfortunate Cat ⭑.ᐟ

ᯓ★ Synopsis Toji Fushiguho — an absent father, a college dropout, and a panhandling loiterer who just so happens to be your father’s best friend. Obviously you have to fuck him... out of pity, of course.

Wordcount 4k

Warnings fem!reader, age gap, toji is kind of disrespectful but so are you, so much teasing it’s insane, toji has a filthy mouth (duh), rough sex, unprotected, spanking, abrupt ending, brat taming??

Author's Notes this was inspired by an anon request for toji as your father’s best friend which was so freaking fun to write (everyone say thank yew anonnnn) and this was supposed to be a drabble but i know no limits... i was also channeling a lot of my own desires here #needthat p.s. this blog is under construction, i’m in the midst of transferring my work from my previous account which was marked as explicit boooo :/

Your sheets ruffle as you discontentedly toss in bed, the silken fabric bunching haphazardly while you writhe, empty stomach caving in a ravenous hunger. Internally, you curse yourself, wishing you had eaten the dinner your father prepared earlier, but now, it’s definitely too late. You’re sure Toji has already scarfed whatever was left of it down into that perpetually endless gut of his. You’ve never stood a chance. Alas, you must eat, so with a groan of annoyance, you roll out of bed, padding to the kitchen on the hunt for satiation.

It’s the dead of night. The sacred time of day when nothing is expected of you. When everyone you have ever known is fast asleep and you’re all that remains. Darkness consumes the lifeless house as you shuffle across the carpeted floor. A night light that’s tucked at the end of the long hall flickers like a dwindling torch in the depths of a dark, endless forest. As you creep down the steep staircase, you sigh, taking notice of overhead microwave light already casting a soft, amber glow — there is someone else that too remains.

Toji.

“You can’t keep eating all of our food.” You huff, abruptly announcing your presence as you near the final step, observing the burly, sable haired man that raids your barren fridge. “I don’t even know why my father puts up with you.”

He smells your sweet, gourmand perfume before he even registers your voice. It’s utterly embarrassing how painfully his cock aches from a mere whiff of you, the sound of you. Unabashed, Toji shrugs, stuffing three, large strawberries into his greedy mouth, eyes narrowing on your pretty frame. “Your father loves me, sweetheart… couldn’t have raised your bratty ass without me.” His ravenous gaze lingers far too long, sharp eyes shamelessly flitting across your soft, exposed skin, sizing you up. “And hello to you too. What’s wrong with you young people? Does no one respect their elders anymore?”

“Oh, brother, here we go.” You grumble, bracing yourself for yet another fruitless lecture, arms crossing over your chest as you sit into your right hip. His keen eyes follow your subtle shift in stance. “And your son? Where is he?”

He scoffs. “With his mother, thank you.” Toji rolls his eyes, reaching for another strawberry. “You sure you don’t have homework to do or something? Always pesterin’ me. I’m old, damnit!”

“I graduated three years ago, thank you… though you can’t say the same,” you snide, rudely pushing past him to peer into the refrigerator, “and you're like forty-five… you should've gotten your shit together yesterday.” You add, growing progressively annoyed with his lingering presence. “Did you drink all of the milk again?”

“Heh, oh yeah. Whoops,” he goads, popping the p, “and I’m not that old, you brat.” He mumbles, esteem crumbling at your assumption.

He’s grown accustomed to your biting criticism, though in the beginning, he would almost always quarrel back, which inevitably led to the two of you in a needlessly heated and borderline flirtatious feud. Now, he’s learned to actively ignore your insults but god, he would only be lying if he said your petty, condescending remarks didn’t rewire the chemistry of his brain.

Alas, all he offers is another irritatingly indifferent shrug, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his scarred lips — his own twisted version of remittance. Toji doesn’t give a fuck, not one. He knows your father will replace it by the end of the week like he always does, so why should he?

It has been nearly a decade since your father has all too graciously granted Toji loitering rights to your childhood home. Never has he paid for groceries, for bills, for anything. He is penniless, indolent, and baselessly forthright, but god, is he the finest man you have ever known.

After both your father and Toji’s untimely and coincidentally synchronized divorces, the two have been inseparable ever since, wallowing in their shared pity together. During his unnecessarily messy divorce, Toji lost the house and your father was gracious enough to offer him a place to stay until he secures a stable job.

That was nine years ago.

Weirdly enough, Toji has known you the entirety of your existence, but not you his. From as early as you can remember, he was always just… there, but as time passed and you grew older, things changed; the way you thought about him changed. Before, you thought of him as just one of your father’s degenerate friends from undergrad who fell through the cracks. Today, that notion still holds, but now you want to fuck him, bad.

For years, you’ve imagined what Toji is like behind closed doors, what he would feel like, what he would fuck like. If he’s the type of man that plays with his food before eating it, if he even likes to eat his prey anyway. Maybe he’s the type of predator that prefers stringing his meals along, toying with and teasing them like some cruel, one-sided game and he’s got the unfair advantage. Either way, you don’t think you’d mind.

Countless nights you’ve found yourself sprawled apart with his name on the tip of your tongue. Bare, perspiring body bowing as you brainlessly fuck yourself against one of his sweatshirts that you snagged from the laundry he doesn’t do. There is no doubt that Toji has heard the desperate cries of his name that pour from beneath your paper thin door, your pretty whimpers so incredibly loud and slutty and all for him.

If he wanted, you’d let him have in the worst possible way. You would let him pry you apart and gut you out completely, leaving you nothing but a shell of your former self — drooling, stuffed, and defiled. The utter heinous things you’d commit for a mere taste of his skin is a direct contradiction of who you are and everything your father believes he’s raised you to be. You’re no angel.

Defeated, you close the refrigerator, a deep, irritated sigh dragging from your lips. This man is useless, you think. If not for his maddeningly beautiful face, you’d sock him in it, sending him tumbling to the floor so that you can finally mount him and —

“Do you wanna fuck? Is that it?”

A long, deafening beat passes. You swallow thickly. “… what?”

“You heard me. I asked if you want to fuck.” He reiterates, voice eerily calm as if he couldn’t care less about the proposition at hand. “You’re always so pissed with me, thinkin’ that’s maybe what you need... a good fuck, heh.”

His blatantly unprovoked inquiry is jostling you back into reality, because what? What the hell is wrong with him? Why did the question roll off of his tongue so quickly? So smoothly? As if it’s no big deal, as if this is just another one of his usual, overly prying questions. Is he serious?

“Toji, wha—”

“You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?” His head is falling to the right, a sleazy grin marring his slick lips. “You don’t think I see the way you look at me, sweetheart? Not a very discreet girl, I’ll tell you that…” a dark, gut wrenching chuckle rumbles from the depths of his chest, “maybe a noisy one though, hm?” He hums, quirking an omniscient brow.

Guiltily, your gaze is falling to the tiled floor, thighs pressing together as you mumble. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Sure.

He laughs again. “You’re not a good liar either,” he’s creeping closer, the warmth of his breath like kindle to a rampant flame, “but you’re a pretty little thing… you know that already though, huh?” A curious hand is creeping around your waist, slyly reeling you in, the redolence of his cheap, inebriating cologne permeating the sinisterly thick air.

You expel an audible breath, taking a cautious step backward, yet he follows, taking a larger step forward, a step closer. Your skin burns, cheeks warming with crimson. He’s too fucking close and he knows it. What if someone sees? You don’t think you can bear the consequences that’d unfold if your father were to ever find the two of you like this. He would kill Toji, then you, and finally himself for good measure.

But god, do you want to find out. When it comes to human nature, curiosity always seems to prevail and fuck, are you one curious cat. There is something innately deep and pressing within your soul that craves satiation. It yearns to be known, to be explored. A deep, perpetually endless hole that aches — it longs to be filled, to be stuffed. None of your peers can do that for you, you’re convinced.

Your dark, repressed desires are only concerning your stance on feminism, but you don’t care, that’s the very thing. You want to find out. You need that, undoubtedly. Is what they say about older men true? The thought lingers as you contemplate the looming proposition. Yes, he’s your father’s closest friend. Yes, he’s far older than you with a child of his own. And yes, your perpetual obsession is only growing increasingly worrisome by the ticking clock, but truly, who can blame you? Look at him.

“C’monnn, you won’t even look at me, doll?” He frowns, a big hand cupping your chin, pulling your gaze upward. “Thought your father and I taught you better than that, no?”

Another loud, incredulous breath escapes your parted lips. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, cunt drooling.

Just the sweet, innocent quaver of your voice alone makes his cock twitch. His plaid pajama bottoms growing near uncomfortable as the fat, mushroom head leaks against the dampening fabric. What’s left of his dwindling resolve is slipping from his fingertips when you’re finally peering up at him, the coy bat of your lashes so perfectly slutty. Pretty, pleading eyes all wide and glossed over with your evident lust. God, he knows you need it.

Toji groans, conflicted for half a beat before growling a strangled and defeated, ‘fuck it’ then, his lips are slotting against yours in a delirious, haphazard kiss. Large hands blindly creep around your waist, dragging you impossibly closer. “This… this is your fucking fault.” He grouses, warm tongue delving so shamelessly inside of your honeyed mouth, greedily licking his way to the source.

“Fuck me then,” you’re pulling away just barely and he can’t help but to follow, subconsciously chasing your fleeting lips, “make me sorry.” It’s quiet, breathless, your pretty lips ghosting his.

And maybe you shouldn’t have said that, but it’s still not too late to end this — to push him away and say no, this isn’t right. It’s not too late to head to bed and forget any of this ever happened, but the way he’s twirling you around to push you over the marble countertop might be a step too far and damn sure too late.

“Sweetheart, you’ll be so fucking sorry,” a singular hand is peeling your lounge shorts down, down, down your plush thighs until there’s nothing but a pool of silky fabric surrounding your ankles, baring your syrupy folds, “spread those fuckin’ legs for me like a good, obedient girl. Let me see how wet that sloppy pussy is.”

With your face snug against the marble, all you can manage is a weak, fruitless gasp of his name, the warmth of your frantic breaths condensing the frigid countertop. You’re craning your head to the side, rising to the palms of your hands to observe the burly man that looms behind you. Fuck, he’s going to kill you.

He simpers, trailing several, curious fingers from your swollen clit allll the way down to your visibly tightening hole which drools endlessly. Pearlescent gossamers of arousal cling to the pads of his fat digits, kissing his skin in a beautiful sheen of your bountiful essence. The warm, abrupt stretch of his careless fingers as they sink deeeeep inside of your slobbering hole is peerless, prying your jaw open in a pretty, guttural moan — so raw and primal and all for him.

“Thaaat’s it, let me hear you, girl… sound even prettier up close,” he’s leaning down to better observe your desperate wails of rapture, pressing his clothed cock against the rear of your bare ass in the process, “got me fucking my hand like an idiot to the sound of you. How rude is that?” His breath hot and laden with lust against the crook of your neck.

Another wanton moan is belting from your gaped mouth at his confession. You can hardly help the pathetic buck of your hips, weakly fucking yourself against the stocky hand that cups your pretty pussy. The gnawing stretch of his fingers set your skin ablaze and yet, it’s not enough. You need more.

“Just f-fuck me… please? Before he gets home.” God, you are so fucking cute, bottom lip quivering in… fear? Anticipation?

Toji frowns feigndly. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared now, sweet girl?” A warm, calloused palm is splaying across the thick of your hip, pulling you closer to the edge of the marble. “Sure doesn’t feel like it…” he taunts, dragging his fingers out of you to smear your prolific arousal between your swollen lips and the slit of your ass, soon bringing them up to your stupidly gaped mouth, “doesn’t taste like it either, huh?” He prompts you to taste yourself, his long, drooling digits hanging before your subconsciously parting lips.

And god, you could fucking cum right there, cunt throbbing embarrassingly around nothing but the fleeting memory of his fingers. You hardly have the time to loll out your tongue before he’s rudely stuffing his fingers into your warm, obedient mouth. A synchronous, drawn out moan echoing from both of your slacked jaws, yours muffled by his fat digits and his so careless and plainly conquered by his ineffable lust.

You hum contentedly around his thick fingers, cleaning your own arousal from them like the good whore he always knew you’d be. Drool spills from the corners of your lips and down his burly knuckles, coating his hand in an obscene mess of your sweet saliva. His fingers are deliberately creeping farther down your slutty little throat, forcing a proper gag from the pit of your core, more of your saliva consequently cascading down his palm.

Like the nasty slut he is, he’s pulling them out of your mouth, only to plop them inside of his own, sucking and drooling down those very digits, his cruel gaze holding yours. A guttural groan belts from the depths of his chest, sable eyes fluttering shut as he hums in satisfaction. Your mouth falls wide, jaw slacked as pretty little pants of incredulity pour from it, poor cunt aching in your ever growing arousal. What. The. Fuck.

“What? Nothing else to fuckin’ say, huh?” Those same fingers are running along your cunt once more, messily smearing the sinful amalgamation of married saliva. They’re sweeping across your swollen clit before slowly sinking back inside of you, preparing you. “Always talkin’ so much shit to me. Gonna shut you up real soon, sweetheart… swear to god.”

A stupid gasp parts your lips, stomach caving in arousal at the sound of him hastily slipping out of his plaid bottoms. A greedy hand is latching to the back of your right knee, pulling your leg up to pin it against the cool marble. The sight of your pretty pussy in all of her sloppy glory makes his cock twitch, the head dripping in sinful rivulets of pearlescent arousal.

You can barely stand the way he takes his cock into his fist, idly pumping his pretty erection, a slutty grin spreading across his scarred lips. From his girthy base allll the way to the fat, leaking head, he strokes himself, but not before swiping the pad of his thumb across the drooling opening, spreading his arousal down the expanse of his monstrous length. You fucked up. Royally.

“God,” you mumble, turning back around to stuff your face into the crook of your arm in utter horror, “god, I am s…so sorry.”

And he fucking laughs. Laughs at your apology; it’s loud and obnoxious and so clearly intended to piss you off because you’re not sorry, you’re scared and he knows it. He can see the way your body trembles atop the counter, drooling cunt shamelessly exposed with your leg hiked up so rudely. The way your big, pleading eyes widen in fear as he creeps closer. Even your futile attempt to scoot away when he begins to drag the head of his cock between both of your slutty holes, almost as if he can’t decide which to ruin first.

“Nuh uh… c’mere,” he nearly growls, impertinently pulling you back before him by the flimsy fabric of your night shirt, a disapproving grunt ensuing, “tryna run away from me, huh?” Two, large hands are groping the fat of your ass, brazenly spreading you apart. “Oughta’ teach you some fuckin’ manners… such a mean little thing. Hell’s wrong with you?”

The head of his cock rests so heavily against your sloppy hole, hot precum oozing against the mess of slick that adorns your pretty pussy. Toji slaps the dense head against your lips once. A droning, helpless mewl pours from your gaped mouth, only for him to do it again, and again, and again. A lewd and deafening plap! plap! plap! reverberates throughout the dimly lit kitchen, sticky gossamers of married arousal tethering you as one.

“Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he admits, briefly dipping the head of his cock inside of you, dragging a wanton whimper from your lips, “such a shame y’er so mean to me… would’ve had you like this years ago if not for that nasty little mouth of yours.” He’s sinking inside of you yet again, but only to pull out when he’s gone too deep.

If your father were to walk into this kitchen at this very moment, he’d be utterly appalled. Horrified. You’re writhing beneath him, hips bucking so sluttily against his teasing cock. God, you have never craved something so horribly in your life; you could just die from the sheer deprivation and it’s hilarious to him. He’s taunting you like it’s some cruel fucking game and he’s got the upper hand.

Again, he laughs. “Oh, you want it bad, huh?”

“Yes, fuck.” You growl, evidently frustrated.

“Awwww you mad, sweetheart?” He irritatingly coos, leaning down to press a wet, openmouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. “Is that poor pussy frustrated huh?” Another sloppy kiss between the valley of your shoulder blades, the head of his cock gliding between your glossy lips, spreading you apart. “Heh, she’s cryin’ for it, such a messy girl… drooling all over my cock like that.”

“Please,” it’s a broken, shameless plea as you crane your head, beautiful tears of desperation pricking your eyes, your pride somewhere so far gone, “pleasepleaseplease.”

A dark, breathy chuckle parts his lips, aching cock jerking against your awaiting hole. For years, he’s imagined you just like this — begging and crying for his cock like some insatiable whore. If anything, he’s denying himself; though, what’s left of his restraint quickly perishes at the sight of your sobbing hole tightening around nothing, kissing his shaft in a gleaming, warm mess.

He almost can’t help but to sink inside of you again, instead this time, he’s giving you everything, all of his twitching cock. The abrupt intrusion forces an incredulous gasp past your lips, a low, throaty groan dragging from his slack jaw in tandem. And just as he thought, your greedy pussy is swallowing his fat cock to the base effortlessly, almost as if it was hand tailored for you.

You’re fighting the gnawing urge to run — to clamber across the countertop and cower in fear, but you can’t fucking move. He’s got you pinned to the marble, a heavy hand at the rear of your neck, the other splayed across the thick of your hip, pulling you back onto his cock. It aches. The delirious stretch of his cock and how it steals your breath away, your mouth sagged, yet nothing is uttered. For once in your life, you’re speechless.

“Is this really all it takes, huh?” His hips are reeling back, the shiny essence of your arousal sheathing the entirety of his cock. “God, is this all it fucking takes to shut you up? A cock in this slutty little pussy, huhhh?” The bruising snap of his hips as he pummels forward nearly has you gushing down the length of him all too soon. “Answer me… and use your big girl words, c’mon sweetheart.”

A loud, desperate gasp of air is all you can manage, bottom lip trembling as you attempt to say something, anything. The hand that holds your neck is threading throughout your mussed hair, forcing your gaze onto his and he can’t help but to laugh at your stupid expression — drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, thick brows knitted so tightly as your pretty eyes threaten to cross. Of course you can’t fucking speak, you’re drunk.

“My goodness, I wish you could see yourself… you’re so stupid on it,” he admires almost endearingly, a warm, mindless thumb grazing your bottom lip, “that perfect fucking face, god. You are so pretty taking it, such a goooood pretty slut for that cock, fuck.” The near possessive growl that belts from the depths of his lungs is like nothing you have ever heard — so filthy and shameless and ridden with his unbearable lust.

Toji is completely losing himself in the wet, endless abyss of pleasure that is you. Babbling nothing but loud, reckless praises, your pretty name spilling so willfully from his slutty tongue. He can hardly help the way he’s subconsciously jerking you back onto his cock. His big, greedy hands tighten so possessively around your pretty waist, meeting himself halfway. The obscene plap! of his achingly full balls beating up your quivering clit with each ensuing thrust.

“Thaaat’s it, you’re so good, that pussy is so fucking good… takin’ it soo deep for me.” He mindlessly blabbers, a large hand creeping beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers sweeping across your soft, perspiring skin.

Every coherent thought you have ever had is long forgotten, poor mind completely barren. He’s the only thing you can hear, think, feel — the greedy hands that wordlessly command you, the warm stretch of his drooling cock as it wholly splits you apart. Even the fat, curious thumb that’s sinking inside of that other poor, neglected hole of yours is prying your lips open in a helpless mewl of pleasure.

“It’s sooo good… sooofuckingooood, oh my god.” You snarl, teeth bared and his jaw nearly unhinges — you sound so fucking pretty. “I love it, I love it, I loveee your c-cock.”

“Yeaaah, sweetheart?” He coos, heavy head deliriously falling back to dangle between his broad shoulders. “God, you needed this, didn’t you? Look at your hips buck like such a nasty slut.” A loud, ear splitting smack! lands against the fat of your ass. “Do you dream about it after you fuck yourself and cum all over my clothes, huh?” Another smack! to the other cheek, your poor cunt consequently squeezing down the base of his cock. “No fucking shame either.”

You possess half the brain to respond, not sure whether to shake your head or nod, too far gone to even make sense of anything anymore. Moan after unrestrained moan spill from both of your raptured tongues, the two of you sharing a few synchronous gasps of air or delirious cries of overwhelming pleasure. It’s the most debauched, yet utterly erotic thing you have ever experienced, but then, there’s a loud, roaring voice that’s stilling Toji’s hips.

“What the fuck is going on here?!”

Fuck.

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toorusluvr · 2 months ago

Text

just thinking about sylus… being lovey dovey with mc

CHARACTERS: sylus x f!reader (reader is the mc!)

CONTENT WARNINGS: unprotected sex + penetration sex + p in v + sylus calling the reader 'princess' 'baby' 'good girl' like once

NOTES FROM NIS: hi!! it's me again this time with another drabble written for sylus!! pls enjoy my thirst drabble for him sigh he's such a good husband material... reblogs, likes are very much appreciated!! anyway, if you're interested, please check out my haikyuu fic featuring iwaizumi hajime <333 u can check the fic out in my pinned post (for some reason, i can't paste the url here good lord why!!)

his larger frame hovering above you. both of you panting and moaning in sync, your lewd noises, mixed with the sound of his heavy balls slamming against your flesh filling the four walls of his spacious and luxurious bedroom.

sylus’s much larger hands pining your hands above of your hand, binding them with a tight grip. his expression showed that he was on edge of coming, not with your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice grip. fuck your pussy is driving him insane.

the 6’5 foot man inhaled the sight in front of him. your naked body on display, tits bouncing to each thrust he was giving you. your eyes shut closed, cute moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips every second of his cock fucking your insides. “what a fucking treat, sylus murmured under his breath. “such a beautiful girl for me, princess.”

slowly, he leaned down, minty breath fanning over your luscious lips. “open your eyes, princess. look at how tight your pussy is squeezing my cock, hm?” he removed one of his hands from binding your hand and down to squeeze your cheeks using his hand.

when you didn’t comply the first time, sylus again squeezed your cheeks harder this time. you knew better than to ignore him and his commands. slowly, you opened your eyes and saw his crazy gorgeous and sculpted face — a pair of crimson red eyes staring straight into your eyes. in a flicker of second, you saw his gaze softened when both of you locked eyes.

sylus’s grunt broke the momentary silence. the butterflies swirled in your tummy every time you have heard his sexy grunts. “fuck. you’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he whispered against your lips before he inched closer to kiss you on the lips.

your back arched when his cock nudged into your sensitive spot, and you accidentally moaned into his mouth. the current position — your tits pressed against his front, his cock nestled deeper into your pussy, seemed so intimate. sylus wanted to be as close as he could to you.

“mhm, sylus, keep going, please,” you whined when he slowed down his pace as he whispered sweet nothings into your ears.

sylus groaned into your mouth, leaving one more deep kiss before he got up. the warmth of having his chest pressed close to you dissipated.

spreading your legs using his knees wider, sylus rammed his cock inside you. this time, faster and harder. your breath couldn’t keep up anymore so screams started taking over your moans.

sylus is such an attentive lover he would never say no to you. only if under some circumstances. other than that, he’s obliging whatever your request is.

his groans lulled your ears each time his cock hit your g-spot. you exchanged looks with him before glancing over where your bodies were connected. creamy white liquid coating his cock and onto your pussy. shit. you were so close to an overwhelming orgasm.

“fuck, sylus make me come please!” your voice a pitch higher before a cry followed afterwards.

sylus again leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, biting on it before swirling it as if he was savouring the sweet taste. his cock still mercilessly ramming into you. his eyebrows twitched as your pussy squeezed him tighter. he was so close and so did you.

you felt that one tight knot swirling inside you, each second closer to an orgasm. it crashed hard and fast, just like how sylus was giving it to you. your breath stuttered, and you got instant chills from how hard and shattering the orgasm was.

sylus’s cum filling your insides, some of it seeping out. he was breathing heavily as he stared at you. “fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful that it hurts,” he whispered again before kissing you sweetly. his fingers caressing your face lovingly. you whined when his skin lightly brushed against your clit. it was so fucking sensitive.

“and you are so fucking handsome that it kills me to get jealous every time girls stare at you,” you muttered while giggling against his lips.

“i only have my eyes on you, sweetheart. no one else,” sylus’s loving gaze locked with yours as he made this promise with you for the nth time. he then placed your palm against his chest, squeezing it with his fingers.

you smiled lovingly and sylus fell in love with you all over again. he’s smitten and crazy in love with you but he doesn’t give a flying fuck over how cringe he sounds. he’s in love with you and he fucking loves you. he’d do everything for you and you only.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #lads smut #love and deepspace sylus #lnds smut #lnds x reader #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus smut

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awrkive · 5 hours ago

Note

For the milestone bash

No. 23 from the smut list with any of your jks please and thankyou ☺️

23. "I saw on your Amazon wishlist you wanted a dildo. You know I got a dick, right?"

note: last drabble im posting for awhile and also the reqs are closed!! thank u sm for participating in the follower milestone game and im sorry if i wasnt able to write the req that you sent in 😔! dw im still going to go over them once in a while, one of these days.

wc: 1.3k

warning/s: p in v s*x, himbo!jk (hes so stupid i have a crush on him)

Jungkook can be infuriating sometimes. Your friends assume that the reason you dislike him is because he’s a big himbo who can’t even say the word misogyny right and has a GPA lower than a minor earthquake magnitude, but you find that’s the least of your concern when the man has a problem with privacy.

He doesn’t know it. He absolutely has no concept of it and you thought – upon the first month of being roommates with him – that he’s just the typical fratboy who likes flaunting his body to any audience because he knows he looks good, but he genuinely just doesn’t like hanging around with clothes on and would always forget that you exist and he can’t just parade around with nothing but his tight boxers on during the weekends.

Jungkook’s the type to not lock his bedroom. He’s the type to not knock when entering the bathroom, the type to not shy away when he sees your underwear in the laundry room. He doesn’t have shame – and it’s exactly why he sticks his nose into your phone charging at the outlet by the island counter with the Amazon app opened while you go and take out the trash real quick.

In his defense, he didn’t mean to. He just walked past it when he was making his toast – but a very neon picture on your lit up screen caught his attention and when he squinted his eyes, he almost couldn’t believe it.

A dildo. There’s a pink dildo in your Amazon wishlist, sandwiched by a list of otherwise beige-colored stationery items that included a lot of… notebooks.

And you definitely could not miss it. Not when it’s neon! And not when… what? Eight inches?

Jungkook scoffs.

That's exactly his size!

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You… a dildo in your Amazon wishlist? Hah. Jungkook didn’t expect that. He’s always seen you as this… prude, somewhat innocent librarian. And you are actually a part-time librarian at school. And you kind of act sort of prude-ish, and there’s nothing wrong with it – not really, Jungkook thinks. You’re still hot and sexy to him – although, he tries to not think of you that way because you’re really nice to him even though he knows he can be a bit too much sometimes and he knows he isn’t exactly the type of person you keep in your circle.

He kept a rowdy set of friends (except Yoongi) while you go out with your intellectual friend group who are all members of an intelligent club at uni. You know, debate club, the school paper, maths and sciences… Jungkook’s just shocked you even entertain him because boy, do your friends kind of hate him.

Anyway. The dildo. Oh wow. This definitely changes things – but Jungkook doesn’t know what exactly. He never thought about whether you’re still a virgin or not, but finding out about the dildo in your Amazon wishlist is definitely making him think things.

Can you even handle the eight inches anyway? You’re kind of small. The girls he’s been with had always commented on how big he is but he’s very efficient with it and he knows well enough to make the girl cum twice before putting it in so the stretch doesn’t hurt. Would you use lube if you used that plastic dick? You must, you should… but like, Jungkook is also really good at cunnilingus because no one loves pussy as much as him so maybe, you’d need someone’s help to prep you and—

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook feels every hair on his body standing up when he hears your voice behind him. In quick succession, he manages to make it seem like he’s checking out the chip on the edge of the counter instead of your phone.

“Hey!” he greets you with a smile.

His heart skips a beat when your eyebrows furrow, eyes landing from his face to your phone. None of you say anything until you walk further into the kitchen. Then, you grab your phone and turn it off.

“I’ll head out in fifteen minutes. I’m sleeping over at Yena’s for a group study. Can you lock the door later?” You ask him.

It’s weird because it isn’t the first time you went around in a tank top and a pair of short shorts inside the apartment, but right now all Jungkook can think of is how tight your shorts are. And also how smooth your skin is – and how nice your chest looks.

“Jungkook?” You call again, and Jungkook snaps out of his trance.

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

It’s the last thing you said before you take out your charger and go straight to your bedroom.

Jungkook stands there in the kitchen wide-eyed, a bit stunned at the turn of events.

———

You knew Jungkook saw that. And you ranted about it to Yena – how embarrassed you were for having him see the damn dildo in your wishlist. You weren’t embarrassed about wishlisting a dildo – you’re just embarrassed that Jungkook has seen it out of all people.

Ever since that day, you’ve been trying to avoid him. Not that it’s hard because your schedules don’t align most of the time but Sundays are always free and you have no choice but to face him over dinners.

What you’ve noticed, though, is that… Jungkook is being a little different, too. He usually has that suave, easy-going vibe to him, and it’s fine if his approach to other people has changed as well but you realized it’s only you he’s being weird to.

So you decide to confront him.

And it ends up this way.

“Oh my god–” You gasp audibly when Jungkook inserts the first inch of his cock in your pussy, mouth agape as you stare into his eyes while he continues to get in deeper.

“Jesus fuck.” Jungkook moans, tightening his hold around your waist. “Tightest pussy I’ve– ah, shit, stop clenching, pretty.”

You look absolutely delicious with your mouth hanging open, pleasure written all over your face. Jungkook would lie if he says that he hasn’t thought about how you’d look like during sex – especially over the past few weeks but for some reason, the universe has pull its strings for you two to end up this way and the Academy really ought to give him an award for not nutting just right after putting his dick in you because phew, you’re more than what he imagined.

“Oh, that– that feels good,” you pant, hands reaching out for his biceps. “Harder, Jungkook.”

And he does go harder, pulling out for a moment and slamming right back into your tight pussy which welcomes and grips him like a vice he swears he’s popping veins over how much he has to constraint himself from going crazy.

But maybe he’s giving himself too much credit because one second you’re moaning and it sounds like music to his ears but then the next he’s saying something stupid like, “I–shiiit– I saw on your Amazon wishlist you wanted a dildo. You know I got a dick, right?”

Jungkook’s got to stop running his mouth. Namjoon tells him he’s way too chattery sometimes and he’s right but he can’t help that he has a lot of thoughts in his head! So what if he thinks that he can outdo a dildo in any way? From the looks of your face right now, it seems like he can!

But you have a deadpan look on your face, a contrast to how you looked just seconds ago.

He’s prepared himself for something that would ruin this moment, but you only stare at him and say, “Yeah. So put it to good use and shut up.”

Jungkook thinks he’d cum in the next ten seconds.

“Yes, ma’am.” He grunts as he slides in and out, picking up his pace, sweat forming in his temples. He greedily lets his hand wander over your breasts and squeeze one, making you moan.

“Good.”

You don’t know where you began and ended, all you know now is that as much as Jungkook can be infuriating sometimes, at least he can make you cum.

And oh, he was definitely way better than the dildo Amazon had just dropped into your door three days ago.

#jungkook smut #p; drabbles #p; drabble requests

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nymphoniah · 3 months ago

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my masterlist (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)♡

• last updated 1/3/25 — fics in order from newest to oldest

• 🍒 = nsfw | ❤️‍🩹 = suggestive/mature content

• this blog contains sensitive themes, mostly including: ddlg/cgl dynamics and age gaps. if you are uncomfortable with the content i am sharing/writing, please do not interact!

• commissions/asks/requests are currently: OPEN! ♡

logan howlett p links:

part one ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

part two ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

part three °ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

part four ⋆. 𐙚˚

logan howlett drabbles/fics:

trash magic 🍒 (pornstar!old man!logan x pornstar!afab!reader): the two of you are perfect in front of the camera <3

you know i'm no good 🍒 (old man!logan x younger!reader): teasing logan ends up with him putting you in your place.

lazy mornings ❤️‍🩹 (origins!logan x afab!reader): cuddling with logan and he doesn’t wanna let you go

freudian slip ❤️‍🩹 (old man!logan x younger!reader): the first time you called logan that word.

holding his hand 🍒 (old man!logan x younger!reader): it’s two sides of the same coin

logan talking you through it 🍒 (old man!logan x crybaby!reader): ddlg vibes with size kink!

his little girl 🍒 (pervy!logan x afab!reader): you’re drunk and logan can’t help but feel you up! ddlg vibes :3

dad bod!logan 🍒 (old man!logan x afab!reader): short drabble about being w/ old man!logan who has a dad bod now!

logan and his glasses ❤️‍🩹 (old man!logan x afab!reader): playfully snatching away logan’s glasses but he doesn’t take it too lightly

steal away ❤️‍🩹 (origins!logan x afab!reader): shotgunning logan’s cigar while you grind on his lap after a long day at work.

white lie 🍒 (old man!logan x afab!reader): you forget to tell logan when your period was over, and he makes you regret it.

pretty when you cry 🍒 (old man!logan x crybaby!reader): logan pushes you for one last orgasm, and who are you to say no?

wonderful tonight ❤️‍🩹 (old man!logan x younger!reader): short drabble about cozy evenings with logan.

come undone 🍒 (old man!logan x younger!reader): you’re super needy, but logan’s feelin a bit tired so you end up riding his thigh!

mercy, mercy me ❤️‍🩹 (old man!logan x younger!reader): logan thinks he doesn’t deserve a girl like you, and you want to change his mind.

one of these nights 🍒 (old man!logan x afab reader): a quick drabble about lazy mornings with old man!logan and how badly he wants to rough you up.

indulgent desires 🍒 (boyfriend!logan x afab!reader): logan works out with reader, and eventually he gets riled up by how good you look stretching. how could he ignore a sweet thing like you?

million dollar man 🍒 (old man!logan x afab!reader): shameless daddy kink with old man!logan, with a sprinkle of dom and sub themes.

lessons learned 🍒 (mean!logan x afab!reader): rough sex with logan—him fucking you from behind while he keeps you in a headlock!

smoking out the window 🍒 (old man!logan x afab!reader): logan teases you for smoking cigarettes but not cigars, and so you prove to him that there's nothing that you can't handle.

needy little thing 🍒 (dom!logan x afab!reader): logan is an absolute munch, and he'll do anything to get a taste of you!

sitting in his lap ❤️‍🩹 (old man!logan x afab!reader): short drabble about old man!logan babying you while you rest in his lap.

logan comforting you ❤️‍🩹 (old man!logan x afab!reader): short drabble about old man!logan making sure that his doll is okay.

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yoon-kooks · 2 years ago

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I absolutely LOVE p&p!

Do you think this Jungkook is the type to get jealous when seeing the reader spending time with a popular guy? Not Tim but someone that perhaps isn’t an asshole, someone similar to the reader that typically they would more likely date as opposed to a nerd like Jungkook?

If you are taking requests or wanting ideas for drabbles I think that could be fun if you also think Jungkook could get jealous of other guys as they continue spending more time together.

Again, only if you think it’s something his character would feel.

i loved writing this drabble so much tyty for the fun request! you can read it here💖 ill put some of my overall thoughts under the cut if youre interested. i also read and received your other ask, and i just wanted to say thank you for being so sweet!!!✨

(slight spoilers included)

it ended up being a subtle jealousy on the outside but something hes clearly struggling with on the inside😔 (which i think is normal for anyone to feel no matter how confident of a person they might be) his "competition" is also a handsome jimin who has more history with oc so it's v understandable;;;

tldr this jjk definitely can be jealous, but hes not the type to really act on it or get mad. it's more like a "feels bad man" type thing lol bc he does really care for the reader and wants to be the one to look after her and share special moments with her!

at the end of the day, he really just wants whatevers best for her so he'd be willing to keep his jealousy to himself if she took interest in another good guy and ended things with him (that wont happen tho!!!)

#ask #p&p drabble request #p&p #playboys & pancakes #anyway that latter part is essentially what happened with my last crush #rip me i guess🤪

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sttoru · 11 months ago

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.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. pussy slapping hcs w the jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna) + small drabbles attached.

⋆ tags. dom!character x female reader (separate). smut. pwp. pussy slapping. dirty talk. further warnings before each small drabble. based on an anon request; sorry, tumblr fucked up ⋆ wc. 1.1k total

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

likes to see the facial expressions you make, so he always has you on your back when he does it.

is always teasingly slow. never rushes the process—even if you beg him to satisfy you properly.

the wet sounds your sopping cunt makes, is what he does it for. the view is something he finds rather endearing as well.

tags. mocking. edging. nicknames used; ‘sweetheart,’

“mph! ‘toru, please. . .” your legs shake with each slap to your cunt. satoru’s grinning from ear to ear, enjoying every little noise you make as his palm pats your pussy lightly. he’s going so slow—trying to get on your nerves by not allowing you to cum just yet.

“‘toru, please’,” satoru repeats your words in a high-pitched tone. he giggles at his own tease before planting a sweet kiss on the side of your chest, glazed over eyes still looking down at your cunt. your juices are coating his slender fingers and it takes every ounce of his strength to not lick them off. to taste the sweetness.

the slow slaps and the time interval between them drove you to insanity. the pleasure comes and goes—it’s torturous. satoru pouts as you pout, mirroring your actions with a shit-eating grin, “patience, sweetheart. just a few more, i promise. i’ll fuck you reaaal good afterwards.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

does it when you least expect it, because that man loves to catch you off guard.

he can be gentle or rough about it—depends on his mood. if he’s in a good mood, the little slaps are meant to stimulate your clit for your own satisfaction. if he’s in a shit mood, the firm slaps are meant as punishment.

tags. p in v. doggy style. condescending tones. nicknames used ‘princess’.

“what now, princess?” suguru murmurs right into your ear. his chest is pressed against your back, one hand slithering down your waist to your hip and between your legs. you’re whining, unlike before, when you had the audacity to hold back your moans and act like you didn’t like what he was doing.

“where’d that attitude go, hm?” suguru grunts, clicking his tongue. you’re bratty today, but he has the solution to fix that. he pulls his hard cock out of your pulsating cunt and leaves you empty. the tips of his fingers glide over your labia instead. you try to grind back against his digits, though was met by a harsh slap instead.

your body jolts at the unexpected slap. not a moment goes by and a second one hits your pussy lips firmly. your moans are muffled by the pillow you’re biting into.

suguru sees you struggle to keep your moans to yourself and chuckles deeply. his jaw clenches and his hand lands harshly on your puffy cunt once more, “keep that attitude up and i’m not stopping until you’re screaming for mercy.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

does it gently, but is so so nasty about it. wouldn’t be surprised if you came just from him slapping your cunt a couple times.

loves to do it when you have your panties still on. that way he can see your wetness through the fabric.

tags. praise. semi-public/exhibitionism kinda. reader wears skirt. nicknames used ‘love, angel’.

“now now, love,” kento kisses the side of your neck gently, urging you to stay still. your back is against his chest and your legs are spread with your skirt flipped up. it’s an embarrassing situation—especially because you’re in his office with your lace panties on display.

the wet spot on the fabric only grows bigger and bigger with each gentle tap of your lover’s palm. kento’s slaps are painfully soft. he knows that it’s agonising for you, but it’s a complete turn-on for him, “you’re doing so well. getting so wet and ready for my cock, mm?”

your eyes roll back from the combination of dirty talk and praise. kento chuckles, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. his fingers come in contact with your clothed clit and it makes you squirm. each little slap made you needier. the sorcerer drags his fingers up and down your pussy before slapping it again through your panties;

“if you stay still for me, i promise i’ll give you what you want, okay, angel? for me?”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

is pretty harsh when doing it. might use his cock to do so too sometimes.

loves to do it when he’s eating you out—gives a couple slaps in between, here and there. right on your clit too.

tags. cunnilingus. degradation. reader gets called ‘little girl’.

“nasty fuckin’ pussy. look at her,” toji scoffs once he pulls his mouth away from your messy cunt. he’s been lapping up your juices for a couple minutes now, the clear fluid smeared all around his lips.

the tip of his tongue drags up and down your slit—tracing circles around your clit. your hands grab onto toji’s black hair, gaining a deep grunt from him. he lifts his hand and slaps your pussy in response, “hands to yrself, little girl.”

you want to comply, but the extra stimulation your body got from that slap only urges you to grip his hair tighter. toji curses under his breath, removes his head from between your thighs and makes it seem like he’s finally going to fuck you—his leaking tip suddenly placed right at your entrance.

well, you guessed wrong. toji’s veiny hand wraps around the base of his cock, only to slap it down on your sensitive clit. you moan at the contact and he answers by doing it again, “hah. thought i was gonna fuck you? nah, ‘m not doing any of that until ya know y’r place.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

makes it nasty by spitting on your cunt before slapping it. loves to see the mess the fluids form on your pussy lips.

has you counting the slaps probably too. if you lose count or get it wrong, he’s starting over.

does it again and again until you’re in absolute tears.

tags. true form!sukuna. over-protectiveness. mention of murder. dacryphilia. spit. reader gets called ‘brat’

“what’d i tell you about hanging around with that lowlife?” sukuna grumbles, clearly pissed off. he spits on your cunt that laid open before him. he’d ordered you to wait for him on his bed with your legs spread while he took care of some ‘business’. which was killing that man who dared to speak with you.

“fuckin’ brat. you never listen,” sukuna continues. two of his hands hold your thighs in place, another one rubs his spit all over your aching pussy. he delivers a firm slap to your cunt once it’s coated in his saliva. you whine and whimper, but the king of curses could not care less.

you know what you should do; accept and count the amount of slaps. you do exactly that, though the harsh slaps are too overstimulating for your poor pussy, causing you to sob. sukuna’s eyes have a dangerous and sadistic look in them—clearly enjoying your tears and suffering.

the sounds of your wet flesh getting slapped repeatedly echoes throughout the room. your tears, whines and bodily reactions drive sukuna absolutely insane. he breathes heavily and stops the slaps, “on all fours. now. i’m not repeating myself.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #nanami smut #toji smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #sukuna smut #nanami x reader #toji x reader #gojo satoru smut #toji fushiguro smut #geto suguru smut #jjk x you

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swordgrace · 5 months ago

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& 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ gwayne hightower x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: you and your husband decide to take advantage of the quiet gardens near the red keep.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: drabble — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 4.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), porn with little plot, risk of getting caught, semi-public sex, gwayne is a switch, cunt-drunk gwayne, sex in the red keep gardens, teasing, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, groping, making out, dirty talk, mild praise kink, p in v sex (unprotected), mild scratching, soft ending.

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am on the Gwayne train right now, I just adore writing for him. This is a smaller story, and I think writing some drabbles might do me a bit of good! I hope that you all enjoy! ❤️ Thanks so much for the love & support!

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚.

The smell was akin to a perfumed dowager, the air thick with roses and honey, petals drifting along in the evening breeze. It was a stark contrast to the pungent scent of the rest of the city — perhaps that is why you favored the gardens.

Orange tendrils of a waning sun spread across the leaves, verdant and bright, turning the gardens all sorts of colors — shades of emerald and gold, intermingling with the many flowers there.

Most souls that had occupied the gardens had made themselves scarce, turning it into a paradise that only you shared with another. You often admired the general splendor even when it was crowded, but now, it gave you a rather unobstructed view.

The various palette of the gardens, particularly any deeper shades of forest-green, matched that of your husband’s doublet, embroidered with golden thread. It was strange to see Gwayne removed from his armor, his silvery vassal that kept him well-protected.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, there were days spent in respite, much to your delight. Though, war would steal him away from you again — you intended on making the most out of each moment, beseeching him to remain by your side. He obliged you, fortunately, and you never objected to it.

A golden hour, brightest before dusk, painted you in shades that Gwayne had committed to memory, your features bathed in dying light. You were swathed in gowns of cerulean, a deeper shade of azure that had brought him to heel when you emerged with it on.

Merrily, he often touted that he had the most beautiful wife in all of the realm, and such a sentiment didn’t change nor waver. It was resolute, done with a fondness that made its way to you.

“Perhaps, once this conflict comes to a close, you and I shall return to Oldtown,” Gwayne’s gallant resonance cut through the contented silence, his timbre often filled with regality, the elegant poise of a well-learned Knight. “I’ve grown surfeited by this grisly place.”

If Gwayne had not been so proficient with a blade, you suspected that a quill and his sharp tongue would’ve done him a world of good in another lifetime. His flowery speech had charmed you time and time again, and you were left captivated.

Oldtown had become your home, a sanctuary of which you and Gwayne had built a peaceful life together. With Prince Daeron in your care, it was something of a family — one that you suspected would grow in the near future.

“As have I,” With a gentle sigh, your fingers danced along his velvet-clad forearm, your arm interlaced with his as he led you through the teeming labyrinth. At twilight, it had become wonderfully quiet, a place of solace away from the bustling hum of the Red Keep. “It is a dour place.”

Dour was a mere understatement — Gwayne knew what harm this city could do, crushed beneath the oppressive weight of the Red Keep. Even in its architectural splendor, it remained a shadow, haunting your every step as it loomed above the both of you.

Even in the sanctuary of the Gardens, one could not escape it. He did not envy his sister for being sequestered here for most of her lifetime — he imagined that it likely led to a path of misfortune and frustration. Being in Oldtown, he could afford many liberties, freedoms that weren’t permitted in King’s Landing.

As you continued on your path, a stone terrace opened before you, a comely overlook with a sizable gazebo, marked by dimly-lit torches. Save for the picturesque view of Blackwater Bay, it was surrounded by foliage and flora on all sides.

Gwayne felt your concern in waves, an unspoken sentiment, knowing that he would be called to leave again. Cole’s armies were rallying to march to Harrenhal, and he was summoned to ride alongside him, the second-in-command. You had made your disdain for this known, and Gwayne couldn’t fault you for it.

“I would sorely dislike it if our time together was to be spent in silence,” He watched you through cerulean hues as you rounded the gazebo, moving toward the overlook. Waves gently lapped at the outcropping of rock, breaking upon it, saltwater kisses peppering your cheeks. “I have a duty, dearest.”

A begrudging sigh tore past your lips, and you staved off the sudden onslaught of turmoil. You had come to-terms with the inevitability of his departure — you had dealt with it once before, but the sting never lessened. “I understand. I loathe you and love you for it.” You murmured, your smile threadbare.

Your answer retained a twinge of lightheartedness to it, in the face of a bleak future. Gwayne couldn’t help but scoff, visage dancing with amusement as he stepped toward one of the massive walls of gardenias. Plucking a pale blossom from its stem, he crossed the stone to you, a gesture of affection.

“Loathe me, is that it?” Gwayne wouldn’t have your last moments together spent in melancholy — and you seemed to be in agreement. He placed the blossom behind your ear, carefully tucking it into place. “Have I vexed you so easily?”

Planting a palm against his chest, you allowed your fingertips to trace across plated velvet, dancing toward the Hightower sigil, embroidered into the collar. He was resplendent in noblemen’s garb, painfully handsome and fresh-faced, save for the healing cut upon his lip and bruised brow.

A taut, muscled arm moved to snake around your waist, effortlessly caging you in against him. Your saccharine scent invaded his senses, swarming around his head like a thick haze, one that he delighted in. Beneath the evening sky, he made his ardor for you known, a real and living thing.

“You are swift to credit yourself, husband. I may resort to knocking you from your pedestal.” You teased, tender voice growing softer, a mere purr to his ears. Gods, you were wonderfully divine — Gwayne brazenly squeezed your hip through your gowns, auburn brows lifting in amusement.

Instead of puffing his chest with a playful retort, Gwayne could no longer resist the tempting curve of your lips, craning down to kiss you. It was a sweet mingling of mouths, slow and exploratory, happy to take their time with one another.

The first inklings of an amorous heat crackled between the both of you, a rapturous hunger that hadn’t been sated since he returned from Rook’s Rest. You simply could not get enough of your beloved husband, hands clamoring from his plush doublet to his mane of copper tresses, gripping them tightly.

Even with the thicker material of your dress, Gwayne greedily grasped at your curves, able to feel the pliant swell of your physique beneath. You had already seduced him with your steep necklace and ample bosom — sometimes, you were more of a salacious minx than you were a maiden. He enjoyed you both ways.

Your chambers in the Red Keep seemed so far away, and neediness began to take root, desire flourishing where propriety could not. As you insistently tugged upon his auburn locks, Gwayne felt his cock stir to life within his trousers, twitching as if to remind him of his carnal need for you.

“Incomparable, I must confess,” Gwayne exhaled, hot breath fluttering across your visage. Hints of wine retained their presence upon his tongue, skin smelling of woodland musk and fine soaps. “Not a single wandering eye to find us here.” His timbre dropped into a delectable purr, lips pressing themselves to the curve of your jaw.

Exhilaration struck at the pit of your stomach, coupled with the familiar wave of arousal, its inklings slick and warm between your legs. “What are you implying, husband?” You asked, breathy and wanton, clinging to him like a drowning woman.

A low, teasing hum slipped betwixt his lips, mouth molding to your flesh, gliding across the slender column of your throat. One hand dropped to cup your derrière through the thicker material of your dress, longing to see it around your feet, instead.

A sheepish moan tore past your mouth, unabashedly stoking the fire that simmered between the both of you. Gwayne greedily lapped at your sweet skin, like a thick honey upon his tongue. “It is just you and I, sweetling. Might you indulge me?” He hummed, desperate to have you now that desire had taken hold.

Gods, you wanted him terribly.

It was a fascinating twist, with Gwayne wanting to have you here, given the publicity of the locale. He was often a man to take you to your chambers in the name of chivalry, but this daring, yearning side to him — you quite enjoyed it, his change of heart.

“Gods, I love you.” You sighed, feeling him relocate the both of you towards one of the thick, stone columns that held the gazebo aloft. It was rough against your back, but you cared little for it, hastily unlacing the bodice of your dress. The silken smallclothes you wore beneath would suffice.

A low, stifled groan escaped Gwayne’s mouth, cerulean hues sharp and amatory, roving over you with a thinly-veiled desire. “Seven Hells, you drive me to the brink of madness, wife.” He murmured, swiftly relieving you of that mound of azure velvet.

The simple slip you wore beneath clung to your curves, accentuating your physique in pale shades of ivory, nipples peeking through the thin material. His hand slithered beneath, seeking to find the slick heat of your cunt, pushing your legs apart with his thigh.

Gathering your slip within your hands, you tugged the material up, until it pooled around the swell of your hips, giving him unhindered access. Gwayne careened forward, mouth colliding with yours, lips desperately craving every fiber of your being.

His other hand moved to cup your breast through your gown, thumb languidly swiping over your pebbled nipple, teasing the bud as he rolled it between his fingers. A sharp, noisy gasp escaped you, followed by the unrestrained sound of a moan.

Your hands clamored to perch atop his shoulders, sinking down into the velvet, longing to see him naked. If you closed your eyes, it was easy to imagine, but you desired the real thing. With haste, your digits slipped toward the line of golden clasps along the front, aiming to get it unbuttoned.

“You minx.” Gwayne panted into your mouth, digits beginning to stroke along your slit. Much to his delight, you were already warmed, wet and honey-thick upon his fingers. Lips twined in hot clashes, and he never allowed it to devolve into something sloppy. Each kiss possessed meaning, a fervent love for you.

As you unclasped his doublet, he moved his arms enough to relinquish the stuffy weight of the fabric, musculature lean and taut, his skin pale and glittering in the gentle twilight. It let you squeeze his shoulders, tracing over the freckles there, reveling in his bare flesh.

Gwayne released a few breathy ‘I love you’s’ into your lips, before he relocated to the sensitive column of your throat. He spoke with reverence, as if he had come to worship his goddess, lay himself down at your feet. Your fingers wove themselves against the nape of his neck, tugging on his copper locks.

Practiced, dexterous digits continued to caress along your cunt, before pushing past your folds. He grazed your clit, sending a rush of goosebumps cascading down the length of your spine. “Gwayne,” You moaned, the sweetest melody to his ears as you rocked forward, desperate for any shred of friction. “Please!”

His cock twitched again within his breeches, aching with something powerful, needing to be inside of you. Patience was his virtue and his agony — he still wanted to taste your first. He continued to knead into your breast, evoking another blissful whine from you.

Despite wearing his honor and chivalry like a coat of armor, he cared little for the consequences of potentially being caught. He would ravish his beloved wife here in these gardens — there was no sin in such an act. Kissing along your jugular, he felt you grip and pull on his hair, filling him with an excitable fire.

“Gods, I must taste you,” Gwayne groaned, voice tinged with an alluring husk, palm continuing to caress the plush swell of your breast. The thin, silken strap of your slip began to sag, and he did not fix it, exposed to the unblemished plane of your collarbone. “If you will permit me to do so.”

“You needn’t ask, husband,” A wanton whimper left you when Gwayne’s digits abandoned your cunt, though it would soon be replaced with the fine heat of his greedy tongue. Through a lovesick gaze, you observed in rapturous silence as Gwayne sank to his knees, as if he were preparing to pray. “I belong to you.”

Watching his auburn crown move towards the apex of your thighs was a most tantalizing sight, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Molten heat surged within your belly, churning with a violent anticipation as you braced one hand atop his shoulder.

A sight to die for, to kill for — Gwayne would’ve fought a thousand battles if it meant that you were the reward at the very end, a resplendent maiden in all of your glory. He would’ve endured torture unimaginable for you, razed down armies, destroyed cities all for you.

The first lap of his tongue caused your knees to buckle, raking hot embers across your cunt. He wedged his way in between your legs, shoulders keeping you apart just enough. Gwayne was quite candid about his enjoyment of tasting you — thoroughly cunt-struck.

A groan stirred within his chest as your fingers grazed through his copper tresses, finding their purchase near the base of his skull. He did not relent, tongue carefully splitting past your folds, greeted by the saccharine onslaught of your arousal.

“Gwayne.” A breathy sigh tore past your parted lips, lulled into subservience from the steady, exploratory laps of his tongue. He was sluggish, allowing the anticipation to mount, nose brushing along your mound.

Your taste was ambrosial, thick and heady, like a haze that he had no desire to escape from. There were many moments where he’d dreamed of this, on the march to Rook’s Rest, sprawled across his cot, fantasizing of you again and again.

He quite enjoyed the way in which you sighed his name, passion bubbling forth from your chest, head rolled back against the stone column. Careworn palms reached for your haunches, delighted to take their fill of you, caressing along the backs of your thighs.

“Exquisite,” Gwayne exhaled, catching his breath to press a string of kisses all along the inside of your thighs. “By the Seven, you taste divine.” He groaned, drunk and dizzy from your cunt. A soft moan escaped you as you coaxed him back, and he willingly obliged.

With another hot, eager lap of his tongue over your core, your knees rattled like leaves in the breeze, feeling his shoulders bully their way between your legs. A brusque, warm breeze fluttered throughout the gazebo, bathed in the waning light of the sunset. Stars began to glisten overhead, unhindered by the clouds.

Gwayne’s eagerness was palpable, able to be felt as he buried his face into your cunt, cerulean eyes fluttering shut in an expression of bliss. A groan stirred within his throat, fluttering throughout his chest as you fisted his auburn tresses, soft beneath your palms.

You could not get enough of him, keeping your hands on him in whatever way you could, chest heaving with wanton sighs. Carnality and desire permeated the air, the atmosphere thick with desperation. You always treated each moment as if it would be your last.

His mouth fervently worked against your slick cunt, sending pleasant shockwaves into the pit of your stomach. Goosebumps danced along your spine, followed by a shiver that made you moan. Your hips rolled forward, shamelessly grinding yourself into your husband’s waiting lips.

With a flick of his tongue, Gwayne sought the pearl of your cunt, lips eagerly kissing their way to your clit. He planted feather-light kisses around that sensitive clutch of nerves, causing you to tremble, digits tightening within his hair. Your grip was ironclad, but it was pleasurable for him, knowing you were enjoying yourself.

“Gods, Gwayne,” You whined, listening to the lewd noises of your chivalrous paramour suckling on your clit. Another onslaught of molten heat swirled within your stomach, seeping into your bones, manifesting as arousal between your thighs. “Do — Do not stop!” The urgency in your voice had increased exponentially.

If there were any evening stragglers in the Royal Gardens, you prayed to the Seven that they would not stumble upon the both of you.

The sight itself was inherently sinful, with you haplessly pressed against the stone column, gallant dress strewn across the ground, slip sagging along your physique. Gwayne’s emerald doublet had joined your garments below. You reveled in the sight of his head between your thighs, causing you to whimper.

Gwayne could detect when you were accelerating towards your release, able to feel the twitches and tremors in your thighs. He soothingly stroked along your silky flesh, interchanging between the greedy suckling of your clit, to long, broad strokes of his tongue.

His lips glistened with a sticky sheen of your nectar, of a finer stout than many, more delectable than any wine that had befallen his mouth. Gwayne worshiped you, kissed the ground you walked upon, and he did not feel an ounce of shame in it.

His cock throbbed with a desperate ache, precum slick around the head as it strained against his trousers. Your own satisfaction spurred him on, and your delightful noises only sent him spiraling into the depths of depravity. You hadn’t a clue of the things you did to him.

In a brazen maneuver, his tongue prodded against your entrance, gingerly thrusting inside of you. You gasped, biting at the inside of your cheek, digits raking through his auburn locks. You let your grip loosen, hips careening forward into his mouth again.

Gwayne ravished you, with the ravenous appetite of a starving dog. He moved back just enough to lap at your cunt, making a blazing trail from your entrance to your clit. “I’m close,” You huffed, issuing some warning to him before the dam had burst altogether. “Gwayne!”

It was the only word you knew in the present, his name — it rolled from your tongue in a delighted cry, laced with ardor and reverence. You reached your peak, shamelessly spilling yourself upon his tongue, and he was enamored with you.

With careful, sluggish strokes of his tongue, he delicately cleaned the mess he made of you, allowing you to bring yourself down from your peak. Even if the intensity had made you burn at a fever pitch, you were far from finished, tugging on Gwayne’s tresses to get his attention.

“Take me, husband,” It wasn’t a request — it was a demand, a command made upon a yearning wife. Desire glistened like a thick sheen within his cerulean eyes, which happened to widen at the sight of you. “Please.” You didn’t have to beg — Gwayne wanted you just as terribly.

He swiftly rose from between your legs, pupils dilated with lust as he steered you toward the stone bannister of the overlook, wide enough to support you. You sat down, hastily fumbling with the leather ties of his trousers. Gwayne parted your legs again, bending over you as he sought your mouth.

The taste of arousal — yours — fell heavy upon your tongue, lips clashing together as you desperately sought to free his cock from its confines. “I need you,” Gwayne husked against your mouth, pearlescent teeth briefly snagging on your lower lip. “Gods, how I’ve missed this, missed you.”

“Gwayne,” A moan escaped you, intermingling with his husky pants and sonorous groans. His forehead nudged against yours, lips hot and needy, and you were more than happy to reciprocate. “I need you, I …” Your voice tapered off when his cock slid against your folds.

He kept you steady, hands caging you against the bannister, the stone biting into your back as he kept you at an angle. Silk gathered around your hips, friction wafting between the both of you as he thrust forward, cock sinking into you.

Hitching a leg around his waist as best as you could, your hands roamed to his chest, nails digging into his collarbone as he began to find an erratic pace. He was loving and passionate, even still, but there was something inherently quick about his rhythm.

Perspiration glittered along his brow from the warm evening, yet it did not stop him from pounding away at you. His cock filled you perfectly, providing a delectable stretch that made your toes curl. It wasn’t an intimidating thing, but it was pretty, just like the rest of him.

Through his clenched teeth, Gwayne sang your praises, savoring the way in which your cunt constricted around him, as if drawing him in. “Seven Hells, your cunt is perfection,” Such lewd, crass words sounded so eloquent coming from his lips, as debonair as a Prince. “I cannot get enough of you, sweet wife.” He groaned.

Despite his crudely-spoken compliment, you were lost within the throes of your own pleasure, body rocked into submission by each snap of his hips. His cock bottomed out within you, movements swift yet punctuated, as if every thrust possessed meaning.

You loved Gwayne unconditionally — perhaps too much, if such a thing were possible. Your chest heaved with sweet, passionate sighs and gentle moans, forehead occasionally brushing against his. His hands kept themselves firm along your waist, curling into the silk of your slip.

His cock battered away at your slick cunt, aided by your mounting arousal. Everything felt so feverishly warm, as if you had been set ablaze, nerves feeling like they were steeped in fire. “More,” You moaned, and it effectively caught Gwayne’s attention. “Gwayne, please.” He was weak to your soft pleas.

Your beloved husband lacked harshness when it came to intimacy, something you adored about him. Even when his thrusts became desperate and erratic, chasing after his release, he never resorted to using you. His lips sought the column of your throat, nose brushing along your jugular.

A string of kisses peppered themselves against your sweet flesh, with the occasional suckling of his lips to your neck. A myriad of throaty whines and whimpers continued to leave you in droves, cunt pathetically clenching around him.

Buckling forward, Gwayne planted one palm against the stone bannister, the other caging in around you as he continued to pound away into your needy cunt. He kissed you wherever he could, dwindling into desperation and the innate desire to taste your sweet flesh.

His lips parted slightly, a strained grunt escaping him as he thrust forward again, until there was nowhere left for him to go. Gwayne pulled back just enough, the head of his cock still inside of you before he moved forward again. The friction made you shiver, fingers grasping at the nape of his neck.

His name continued to slip from your mouth, over and over again, like a whispered prayer. Your nails left behind red crescents upon his skin, sharp brands of your lovemaking. Gwayne groaned against your throat, desiring to kiss you once more, lips laying claim to yours with a fervor.

With another snap of his hips, Gwayne shuddered, nearly collapsing into you as he reached his peak. Hot ropes of seed brazenly spilled inside of you, warming your insides as he attempted to catch his breath. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing with him, allowing your hands to slack.

Gwayne politely removed himself from you, mindful of your garments as he fixed your gown back into place. The slip itself was disheveled, but he ensured its tidiness before you got dressed again.

“How divine you are,” Gwayne hummed, planting gentle kisses along the side of your face before it ended at the curve of your jaw. “Beautiful beyond comprehension.” He murmured, using two digits to delicately place the strap of your slip back upon your shoulder.

“You flatter me, husband,” Your smile was warm and amiable, the brightness of springtime, bringing a rosy flush to his features. “I quite enjoyed your brazen streak.” Through a smitten confession, Gwayne kissed your brow, lips twitching into a debonair smirk.

“I am not ashamed of ravishing my wife, be it in our chambers or in the garden,” He replied, reaching for his velveteen doublet and your azure dress. It was easy for him to slip back into the stuffy material, and he was more than happy to assist you. “I cannot get enough of you.”

His words were tantalizing, as if intended to bring about another string of salacious thoughts. Gwayne stood behind you as you stepped back into your dress, helping to lace your bodice up again. He planted a kiss along your exposed shoulder, and then to the crook of your neck.

You reached for his hand, letting it drape across your shoulder as you pressed a delicate kiss against his bruised knuckles. “You shall have me, Gwayne — for as long as you desire me.” You sighed, feeling his nose brush along your cheek, the warmth of his body pressing in behind you.

With a kiss to your temple, one oozing with such fondness and ardor that you feared you might melt, Gwayne’s lips hovered near the shell of your ear. In the twinkling dusk, he held you close. “Forever, then.”

#house of the dragon #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x you #gwayne hightower x y/n #hotd x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd smut #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #game of thrones x reader

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rbfclassy · 7 months ago

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OH NO, HE'S A DILF! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...who doesn’t love the concept of the jjk men as hot dilfs? so I’ve written some smutty drabbles about them

INFO...jjk men (toji, nanami, gojo, geto) x fem!reader (reader is in their 20’s and the jjk men are in their early to mid 30s), p in v, praise, pet names, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, jerking off, nipple sucking, choking, dirty talk, hair pulling, cow girl, doggy, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

NANAMI

Nanami was a regular at the small diner that you worked at, coming in with his kid who was too adorable with his spiky pink hair and chubby cheeks. Nanami was always so sweet to you, apologizing for his kid’s outburst and constant requests for more apple juice. It made you laugh but it was no problem. He always left a good tip as well and when I mean a good tip I mean he tipped you more than the bill was itself. You didn’t take it as much but the the little nicknames started, him calling you ‘sweetheart’ from time to time. He was a handsome man, and from the looks of it he wasn’t married or had a girlfriend, so you were in the clear.

One day, it took in the bravery in you to write down your phone number on his receipt, quickly walking away embarrassed that you even did that. And when you came back, he didn’t say a word to you, but he still did leave you a huge tip…surprisingly. After your shift, you received a text from him, your heart beating in your chest as you read ‘you’re adorable sweetheart, maybe you should stop by later tonight’

“F-fuck!” You moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continues to slam into your g-spot. You’re clinging on to him tightly, nails digging into his skin and scratching down his back, sure to leave marks.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, him slamming into yours as a rough pace. The little mewls and whimpers leaving your lips drive Nanami crazy as he thrives to bring you to another orgasm. “Feel so good squeezing around me.” Before you know it, your entire body is quivering beneath him as your orgasm rakes through you, broken moans filling his bedroom.

“Yes! Yes!” Your fingers entangle in his blond hair as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Please, please keep going,” you beg. Nanami makes eye contact with you, your eyes glossed over, fucked out as you were practically drunk from his cock.

“Tell me, was this what you wanted? Huh? To be fucked like a slut.” He doesn’t even allow you to answer before placing his lips on yours, tongues messily moving against each other as you moan into the kiss. Nanami would have no problem going all night with a cute and desperate girl like you.

GOJO

You were Nobara’s preschool teacher when you first landed eyes on her father, Gojo Satoru. He was a very handsome man, his most prominent features were his stunning blue eyes and fluffy white hair that reminded you of clouds. He had a charming smile, always seeming to flash you one when he’d pick his daughter up from school. The other teachers would gossip like school girls over him, even going as far as wondering if Nobara’s mother was in the picture. Little did they know that Gojo was her guardian and not actually her father, but they didn’t care, they just fawned over him.

It was parent teacher conferences and of course you wanted to discuss how well Nobara was doing in class, exceeding your expectations and quickly adapting to the lessons. She was a smart kid. Gojo walked in hand and hand with her, a smile on the little girls face as she waved hi to you. Obviously, you greeted Gojo as well. The entire discussion was positive, leaving really nothing to worry about or discuss. Though, each time his eyes laid eyes on you it felt like your heart had stopped. You really couldn’t get over how attractive he was.

“Nobara, go with Ijichi to the car, I’ll be there shortly,” he kissed the top of the little girls head as she took Ijichi’s hand. Gojo turned back towards you, a small smile on his face. “I got to thank you for being such a great, great teacher to Nobara, she talks about you all the time at home.”

“Oh, well, thank you so much. I’m glad! She’s a delight to have in class.” You let out a small laugh.

“I know this may seem weird, but would you like to join us for dinner? We’re having her favorite tonight and I’m sure she’d be delighted to see you there.” Gojo leaned on the desk, his voice was smooth as he spoke. His eyes landed on yours, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“I’d love to.” You nodded.

“I’ve been dying to know how this cunt taste.” Gojo slurped up your juices, holding your legs open as he devoured your cunt, tongue lapping at your swollen clit. It’s been an hour since dinner ended and Nobara was fast asleep. You were on your way out when Gojo asked you to stay, now here you were with his head in between your legs.

You covered your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans as he sucked on your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue prodding at your entrance, teasing you. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, you’ve been thinking about this too.” He looks up at you, two of his slender fingers making their way into your sopping cunt. “Such a pretty pussy.” He kisses your clit.

“S-shit.” Your brows furrowed at the sensation, your hand grabbing the back of his head as you forced his mouth on your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out. The tip of his tongue flicked up and down through your fold and on your clit, the pleasure clouding your brain. Gojo loves the way you’re gushing around his fingers, soaking the bed below. He could tell you’re already close, your pussy clenching around him. He lets out a low chuckle when you start squirting, a delicious sight to see before he licks up your juices.

GETO

You met Geto at a club, his dark demeanor and mysterious manner were what attracted you first, not to mention he looked like he was sculpted by the gods themselves. His long flowing hair, toned body, and deep voice was enough to get you going. Imagine your surprise when you found out he had twin girls. You were shocked, but now that you knew you were dealing with a dilf, it made it all the better. He’s experienced, older, charming, what more could you ask for? You didn’t think after a few weeks of talking he’d be quick to invite you over, claiming that the girls were headed over their uncles house for the weekend.

So that left you and geto to condone in whatever activities he had set out for you, which involved you in your knees giving him the sloppiest head of his life. “Goddamn, baby—shit,” he moaned, tossing his head back. Your tongue swirled around his sensitive tip, suckling on it as you smiled up at him before taking him down your throat again. His hand rested on the back of your head, his abs tensing up whenever he hit the back of your throat. “Fuck me!” He groaned. Your hand massaged his balls, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he bit down on his bottom lip. Geto hasn’t had sex with someone in so long, it’s like he’s virgin all over again. His breath hitches before he pulls you off. “You’re gonna make me cum already,” he chuckles.

You laugh with him, crawling onto his lap and sloppily kissing him, entangling your fingers into his dark hair. “Put it inside.” It sounded like you were demanding but you were more like begging. You wanted to feel him stretch you out so badly. Geto lifted your hips as he aligned himself with your entrance, his bulbous tip already warning you of how thick he was. You wrapped your arms around him as you sank down onto his cock, whimpers escaping your lips as he bottomed out inside of you. “You’re so big,” you gasped, still adjusting to his size.

“I know, but you can take it like a good girl, can’t you, baby?” He landed a harsh slap on your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh as he guided your hips up and down. “That’s it, fuck yourself on my cock.”

TOJI

Toji was a quiet and intimidating man when you met for the babysitting job. You were a college student low on money and you saw that this random man needed a babysitter for his son while he was away doing work. What could go wrong? To your surprise, nothing went wrong. Yeah, sure he was scary and always looked like he wanted to kill you but he acted the complete opposite. He gave you a warm welcome, treated you kindly and even bought snacks for you and megumi when it was your time to babysit, not to mention the pay wasn’t bad either. Megumi was a sweet boy, but very serious and nonchalant at times…maybe because he takes after his father. Either way, you’re glad he wasn’t a brat like other kids you’ve met.

As time went on, Toji seemed to be getting more comfortable with you, hanging around you more while you were taking care of megumi, watching the interactions between you two. You noticed the sparing glances he’d give you, catching him eyeing you up and down before walking out of the room. You’d be lying to yourself if you said Toji wasn’t attractive, it’s just he isn’t very social and seems isolated. Yet, you’d catch him touching your waist when he’d walk by you, casually saying, “excuse me.” He wasn’t slick.

After you put Megumi down for bed, Toji called you into his office to discuss some things and you were sure you were getting fired, but no, it was nothing like that all because here Toji was with his tongue swirling around your perky nipple, fingers rubbing your clit as you jerked him off. “Come here.” He snatched your arm, pushing you against the wall as he yanked your pants down, his rough hands massaging your ass. “So fucking perfect.” He presses up against you, his hard cock right against your ass as his snakes around your throat. “Say you want me to fuck you,” he whispers. He tilts your head up so you’re looking at him, your glossy eyes only making his dick throb harder. “Come on, doll. Say it.”

“Fuck me, please,” you said barely above a whisper. That’s all Toji needed to hear, sinking his dick into your wet cunt. You let out a gasp at the feeling, but pushed back against him out of desperation. “Toji,” you moaned, moving your hips against his. His hand squeezed your neck tighter as he began fucking you back, hips slamming against yours. Your fingers clawed at the wall in front of you, his dick reaching your sweet spot, repeatedly slamming into it.

“Feel so fucking good, doll. Pussy is so wet for me and only me,” he growled in your ear. “I used to stay up all night thinking about you, imagining how you look with my cock in you. And let me just say, you so pretty,” he let out a devilish chuckle. His words went straight to your pussy, clenching around him as he fucked you stupid. “Might have to keep you around. You want that, huh?”

“Yes!” You nod, practically choking on your moans. Your eyes squeeze shut, feeling the pressure into your stomach building as your body began to heat up. Toji unexpectedly carried you to the couch in his office, arching your back and grabbing a fistful of you hair as he roughly fucked you. “Mmm, shit, shit—Toji!” You squealed.

“Taking me so well, doll. Go ahead, cum on my dick.” He looked down at where you two met, a white ring forming at the base of his cock, slowing dripping to his balls. Let’s just say…getting fucked by a dilf was more than you imagined it to be.

repost from my old account!

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dilf-docs · 4 days ago

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Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (yum), pwp, p. in v., fingering, pussy spanking (ooc i'm sorry i just want a man to do this to me), creampie, virgin!reader (sorry if this is kinda unrealistic for a first as i two i'm a virgin; in the curb we all fam), aftercare, spanglish ofc!!!

word count: 2,865 words

side note: so, i modified the request a bit bc idk pedro's friends like that (i just know omar apollo can tower over me wait what). check the og request here. reqs still open as we enter 2025! happy new year, dilf town citizens: pushed this drabble last minute as a lil' gift for you before the year ends! :) thank u sm for being part of it, my journey on tumblr is just getting started!!!!!!!!!!

Hace tiempo que quería yo sentir esto que siento.

They say dating a star and having to share him with everybody else is the hardest part, but to you, it's having both of your vacations occur simultaneously.

Finally, after months of shooting so many projects for the next year, your boyfriend is free.

Vacations are fun! They're supposed to be relaxing, especially after leading such a busy life as yours: juggling between work, studies and a relationship with world-renowned actor, Pedro Pascal. Yet, you can't help but feel nervous, fiddling with the loose strands of your skirt.

Pedro wants you to go alone, which means just the both of you: a little escape before Christmas Eve, as he and his friends have already planned their holiday together.

Doesn't matter how many times you tried to excuse yourself, he was determined to make you go with him. Besides, let's get real: it's not like you can say no to him. So now here he is, both of your passports in hand as you both are ready to board your plane to Mexico, where the rest of his friends will meet you a week later. Yes, more nerves to add on the schedule.

"If you don't quit that shaking of yours, I'll extend our vacation two more weeks" Pedro threatens once you're seated, but it's devoid of any malice. He's a bit far from you (he also insisted on the VIP flying part; you're just fine flying tourist, but can understand why he isn't), so you can't count on his touch to comfort you. "Didn't know you were afraid of planes"

You sigh, "I'm not"

"Ay, cariño. Are you afraid of me then?"

"No" you laugh nervously. You are, but not for the reasons he thinks.

It's the very first time the two of you will be fully alone. For obvious reasons, a whole week at the beach is much more intimate than just the dates you've been in. But here you are, already seeing the sand and water beneath you.

"Like what you see?" he jokes.

"Yeah" you look back at him, sincerity washing over the expression on your face. "I do"

If there is one thing you're sure of, is your love for Pedro. You'll just have to wait and see how this goes.

As of now, everything has gone well: sun, water, diving and lots of new photos and videos on your camera roll. You've gone swimming and danced on the bar of the hotel you're staying, some extra drinks on your system. You've also sunbathed under the same sun you've watched go down, in the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen in your life.

But here comes the hardest part: the night. Sharing a bed isn't hard: it's something that's happened before, one time even staying in his house for two days, all because he insisted.

This time is different: the way his gaze lingers over your bare legs, the same way he's looked at them when the droplets of water slide down them. The way he licks his lips, like he's starving and the most deliciously tempting meal stands before him. Mantaining eye contact like it's some kind of dare, just as he's done since you've landed, using it to disarm you little by little.

You don't think you can't take it anymore.

You lay down on the bed, and he leaves the book he's reading on the night table next to him, all his attention directed towards you. Yeah, you're afraid, he can sense, but apparently not that afraid to wear a dainty nightwear that gives a delicious peek of your breasts.

"Something you want to say?" you ask, almost daringly so.

"Say no" voice low, barely a whisper that could come across a breeze of wind entering through the open window as it stirs the courtains. "Want, yes"

You gulp. "What do you want, then?"

Shouldn't taken the bait.

"You" comes quick, like it's the easiest answer there ever is.

The rest of his answer comes in the form of hungry lips capturing yours, devouring them in a clash of desire against your own, even struggling to breath due to the animalistic borderline savage way Pedro's eating you out, his tongue battling inside your mouth while trying to explore every corner just to taste all of you on his palate.

"Pedro" you moan his name out when he bites your lip with a bit too much force, metallic filling your taste buds. It's all so hot, and you're too turned on to think.

His roaming hands itch to touch every available spot of soft skin your body offers, tracing first through your collarbones, and then leaving the task for his lips to complete. There goes a trail of kisses that go down your neck, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin until it turns red. You whine against his hold, big hands keeping you under him, back pushed against the soft mattress and silk sheets.

You gasp for air, lost in the fire, when suddenly his forgotten hands touch you down there.

"Wait!" you shout, mentally slapping yourself.

"¿Qué pasó?" he exclaims, scared. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-no" you're quick to deny, voice wavering as you seat up on the bed. Your cheeks soon flush, as there's regret when you say. "I'm sorry"

"Sorry for what?" he tenderly cups your cheek. "Just tell me what happened"

"What happened is, I fucked up the vibe. I'm sorry, P. Didn't mean to stop you like that"

"¿No te estaba gustando, cariño?" he's questioning again.

"No" your answer is more firmly this time. His face morphs into a bit of hurt, and then you think your answer a bit more. "Ah, no. I mean, yes! I was liking it. I meant no as in no, it's not that why I stopped you"

"Then, why is it?" he grows a little impatient, but shows no such thing, rather focused on helping you out. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I know" you smile sadly, insecurities washing over you like cold water.

"Then, tell me" he scoots closer, his perfume getting in your nostrils. Had he wore it again for this? God, what an evil little horny creature.

"I'm scared" you confess finally, the warmth of his receptiveness giving you a sense of security. His brown eyes soften, and you feel tears brim in the corner of your eyes.

"I know" he repeats your words, kissing you softheartedly, nothing compared to as before.

"No" you look directly at him, ready to take in every reaction his face will have. "I don't think you do"

"Amor, por favor-"

"I'm a virgin" you cut him off, panic rushing your answer.

"You are?" almost immediatly, giving no opportunity for silence to settle in.

You nod, slowly.

He sighs, sounding relieved. "And here I thought you didn't love me. Que te daba asco acostarte con un viejo como yo"

"No!" you deny hastily, then laugh. "Of course I love you, P. On the contrary, I was the one scared. Don't want to fuck it up on my first"

The energy changes again, as a flame sparks within your orbs. He looks surprised.

"Just because I said-" he cuts himself off. "Look, y/n, mi vida. I don't want to force you, yeah? I didn't know you hadn't- Listen, if you aren't ready, I'll understand"

"I am ready" clear and convinced, without a doubt.

His eyes circle between lust and love, "You want me to be your first, mmh baby?"

You nod, and he's back at the kissing and nibbling on your neck and collarbones.

"Please say it"

"I want you, Pedro. Quiero que seas mi primera vez"

Those sweet words of yours, an invitation not even the strongest man could deny.

"Let's start slow, yeah?" his fingers travel down to your panties under the nightwear, removing them and tossing them out of the bed, even with your pout. He kisses it off, wasting no time after to see your clit exposed. "Looking so sweet, angel. And needy" he gets closer, taking a better look at the wet mess that coats in between your thighs. He takes a whiff, intoxicated with the smell of your arousal dripping in waiting need. "Tell me if this is okay, yeah? I'll stop if it hurts"

Your breath hitches the moment his middle finger touches your puffy clit. Pedro runs his finger up and down, not adding much pressure to let you get used to it (kissing and eating each other out was all you had ever done). You whimper at the feeling as he repeats his action a few more times.

"Please, keep going" you plead, barely managing to not squirm at the overwhelming new sensations that shoot right through your cunt.

He begins to rub slow circles, making sure to add the right pressure onto your clit, then circling it, all while keeping eye contact, adoring the new expressions and sounds he's getting from you. You realize and shy away, embarrassed all of the sudden at the way he looks at you.

"Don't" he holds you by your chin with his free hand, "I want to know how you look when I please you"

You whimper, letting him do his own thing. He starts leaving sweet little kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your hole clenching at nothing.

"Think you can take more?" he asks, "want more?"

Two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices.

"Good girl" he praises when you only yelp, savouring the new feel of his digits inside of you. Then, he drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking them clean. "Taste so sweet too"

"N-need more" you whine, desperate beneath him.

"Yeah?" This your first and you're already this greedy? I think I can get used to it" he laughs in adoration. "Let's try something better, yeah?"

Your body suddenly jolts, his big palm flat against your pussy. Pedro circles his whole palm across your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto it. You moan, back arching at the overstimulation.

He feels a little pervy, enjoying the way your tiny young body squirms beneath his caging body for of him. Nonetheless, he continues to rub you while you release more dirty sounds cascading out fo your filthy greedy lips. Your arousal keeps dripping like a broken pipeline, now smeared all over Pedro's palm, filling the room with slippery sounds.

"Mhm" you can't even speak, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure reducing you to a moaning mess.

Pedro slaps your pussy twice, wet smacks bouncing off the walls.

"That's my girl" he then gently blows on your swollen bud, pressing a light kiss on it after. "Ready for it?"

It meaning his hard tent hidden under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, but you're quick to dissmiss it.

"Are you sure you are ready?"

"Just do it" you demand, without knowing the consequences of your words, or the effect you have on him. Overall.

With needy fingers, you're fast to strip him out of it, admiring the size as much as you admire his now sculpted body. Jesus, you could build a cult out of it.

"Now" he cups your cheeks, fingers digging onto the skin, "I want you to look at me when I fuck you, yes? Don't dare to look away"

Pedro positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. Then, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry, trying to adjust to his size while your nails dig on his broad back, as he claims you, makes you his. Only his. Pedro'hi's hips snap forward with precision: every thrust is deliberate, each movement calculated to make your first as pleasurable as he can, despite the pain that's shown in your tears or the little drops of blood that fall onto the sheets.

"Shit" he pants, "tendremos que pagar por eso"

He grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he moans, your tight untouched walls now stretching to adapt to his girth, "like you were made for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he firmly holds you. Your vision goes foggy, mind numb at the burning and pleasing sensations. Despite that and lack of experience, you meet his every thrust, your bodies moving as one.

Your core contracts around him with every motion. "You fuck me so good" you mewl, music to his ears.

"I know, baby" he chuckles, "sólo lo mejor para mi princesa"

Fingers dig into your skin as he guides you with precision, right as he wants you to be. You feel the intensity of his deep inside of you with every movement, his hot laboured breath against your ear.

"Doing it so good" his voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine. "Just for me"

"Just for you" you mindlessly pant out, the sensation of having all of him inside you, nothing separating the skin from skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce with each motion, Pedro's eyes never leaving yours, dark orbs locked onto your gaze as you urge him to go faster, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusts to the new rhythm he's providing, rapidly obeying.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies clashing onto one another, flesh against flesh echoing softly.

"Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me" His words send a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan loudly, your head falling back, "me tienes loco"

Pedro's weight grounds you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

"Tell me you want this, us" the words catch you off guard. "Will you take all of me?"

"Yes" without a thought or doubt, answering as you whine and clutch at his shoulders with his more urgent thrusts. "All of you, always"

You notice his hips snapping forward, more energy as he pounts into you. "Good girl" praising you again, voice thick in arousal and rough, "so good for me"

Despite being your first, you can feel what would be your orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

"Pedro!" you scream his name, body collapsing around him as you come, stars reaching your closed eyelids.

His movements become more intense and sloppier, breathing ragged as he chases his own release.

"Espérame. Stay there for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping tighter as he continues to pound into you. "Ya casi" his thrusts become erratic as he nears his climax, "almost there, baby"

You feel his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, seed spilling into you without wasting a drop.

"That's right" whispers against your sweet neck roughly, voice breaking as he collapses over you, trying to level his breathing. "Eres mía, only mine"

You're whimpering, body exhausted from the whole session you had.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired" you sigh, "but I don't think I can walk"

"We'll get you a wheelchair someway" he jokes.

"You think is funny? Ruining my holidays?"

He leans down to press a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up" you mumble out a tired no, but Pedro's picking you up with his strong arms, taking your body to the bathroom. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"You know what? Your fans were right: you do have a slutty little waist" you mock.

"Right" he blushes, embarrased as he takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet. "Open up, baby" he grabs some tissues, trying to clean up the mess you've made between your legs. "Así, justo así, bebé" he parts your hair to the side lovingly, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. "Done, my pretty baby, look at you"

You hum, eyes threatening to close.

"I see you're not an after-sex talker. Come on, I'll take you back to bed" he picks you up again, your head leaning against Pedro's V line as he caresses your head. "Hope you don't mind the smell"

"I love how you smell" you mumble out in a drunk like state.

"Okay then" he chuckles, "let's go back to bed" taking you out of the room, gently placing you the mattress. He then pulls a pair of fresh panties from your suitcase, dressing you in them. He coos at the sight of you, sleeping peacefully despite what you did before.

He finally lays next to you, lovingly lifting up your arm to put it around his waist. He pulls the sheets over your bodies to keep you both warm, in the chilly room thanks to the beach's air.

He feels you move, snuggling closer to his chest to seek warmth.

"I love you" whispered, not expecting you to answer or hear it.

When you snuggle closer, he's sure you do.

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedropascal #pedro fluff #pedro smut #pwp #pedro pascal pwp #pedro pascal fandom

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javierpena-inatacvest · 11 months ago

Text

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy.

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate.

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for.

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period.

Your cycle had been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag.

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military.

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it.

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response.

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood.

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration.

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.”

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man.

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work.

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband.

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending.

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie.

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!”

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath.

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-”

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.”

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door.

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway.

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it.

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood.

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear.

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants.

Your period had come.

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie.

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ”

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply.

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.”

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first.

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.”

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply.

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘”

“Oh shut up, meanie.”

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍”

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way.

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch.

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband.

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?”

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest.

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace.

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you.

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-”

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse.

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem.

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.”

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.”

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him.

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you.

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you.

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza.

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-”

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?”

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?”

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.”

“I think I can make that happen.”

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest.

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy.

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth.

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you.

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core.

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you.

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices.

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period.

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man.

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths.

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.”

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds.

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt.

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot.

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool.

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over.

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue.

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name.

“Frankie, holy fuck.”

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could.

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.”

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt.

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace.

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over.

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him.

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity.

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him.

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate.

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word.

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.”

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there.

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did.

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.”

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in.

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.”

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high.

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss.

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss.

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight.

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.”

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

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