Daddy’s Baby @daddysbabyreadinglist - Tumblr Blog

pussy slapping with choso !

the bedroom was dark except for the soft blue glow from the streetlight sneaking through the blinds. choso was kneeling between your thighs on the bed—shirt gone, hair loose and messy from your fingers earlier, eyes fixed on your spread cunt like it was the only thing that existed right now.

you were already soaked—had been since he started kissing down your stomach twenty minutes ago, slow and reverent, like he was worshipping every inch. now your legs were hooked over his shoulders, shorts and panties long gone, and he had one big hand splayed flat on your lower belly, holding you down while the other stroked lazy circles around your clit with his thumb. not enough pressure. never enough. just enough to keep you trembling.

“been so good f’me,” he murmured, voice low and rough, almost soft. his lips brushed the inside of your thigh, warm breath making you twitch. “so wet already. look at her… all swollen and pretty.”

you whimpered, hips trying to lift for more. his palm pressed harder and pinned you flat.

“stay still.”

then his hand left your clit.

the first slap came without warning—a sharp, wet smack! right over your pussy. the sound echoed louder than your gasp. your whole body jolted, clit throbbing under the sudden sting, slick splattering against his palm when he pulled back.

“ch-choso—!”

he hummed, pleased. his thumb traced the puffy lips—slow, teasing—spreading your wetness like he was admiring his work.

“sensitive?” he asked, almost sweet. another smack!—lighter this time, but right on your clit. the shock made your thighs jerk, a broken moan ripping out of you. slick dripped down your ass and soaked the sheets beneath you.

“fuck… you like that,” he breathed. his eyes were dark, pupils blown. he watched the way your cunt clenched around nothing—hungry and desperate. “look how she jumps for me. so needy.”

he gave you three quick ones—slap slap slap!—each landing wetter than the last, each one making your hips buck, your back arch, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from how good it hurt. your clit was throbbing, swollen, and glistening. every slap sent sparks up your spine, pleasure twisting sharp and hot in your belly.

“cho—p-please—too much—”

“not enough,” he said quietly, voice wrecked. he leaned down, blowing cool air right over your heated folds to make you whine. then smack! again, harder, palm cupping the whole mound so the impact rippled through you. you cried out and his free hand flew to your mouth.

“shh,” he murmured against your thigh. “don’t wake the neighbors. not when i’m finally getting to play with this perfect cunt like this.”

he rubbed slow circles over the stinging skin—gentle now, soothing the burn while keeping you right on the edge. your thighs shook around his head. you were dripping down his wrist, strings of slick connecting his fingers to your folds when he pulled away.

“gonna come from this?” he asked, almost taunting, but his voice cracked with how turned on he was. “just from me slapping your pretty pussy?”

you nodded frantically—tears slipping down your temples. “fuck yes—ngh—please—choso—”

he growled low in his throat. he gave you one more hard smack! right over your clit. the sting tipped you over.

your orgasm hit like a wave—violent, blinding. back bowing off the bed, thighs clamping around his shoulders, walls fluttering around nothing as you squirted—messy, gushing, soaking his chest, his arm, the sheets. you sobbed against his palm—muffled and wrecked—while he kept the pressure on your clit, rubbing through the aftershocks, drawing every last tremor out of you until you were shaking, oversensitive, pushing weakly at his head.

he finally pulled back and kissed the inside of your thigh like it was fragile. then climbed up your body, caging you under him. his cock was rock-hard against your thigh—thick, leaking, straining through his sweats like it hurt.

eyes locked on yours, he leaned down—lips brushing your ear.

“you did so good,” he whispered. voice soft now. reverent. “but we’re not done.”

his hand slid between you again—fingers spreading your soaked folds, thumb circling your still-throbbing clit.

“think you can take my cock after that?” he asked, almost gentle. “or you need a few more slaps first?”

you whimpered—half sob, half plea.

he smiled.

“that’s what i thought.”

another soft smack!—teasing this time.

then he was lining himself up.

and you knew he was going to fuck you slow and deep until you were crying his name again.

until you couldn’t think about anything but him.

lilikoiyu

toji is your regular customer at the strip club . . . (stripper!reader)

he’d been coming for seven months.

same booth every time—the one in the back left corner, half-hidden by the pillar, far enough from the stage that the lights didn’t blind him but close enough he could still see every roll of your hips. he was never front row like the loud ones who threw singles like they were confetti. he never tried to buy a dance from anyone else. just you. always you.

first month he barely spoke.

he just watched—green eyes tracking the way your back arched when you dropped low and the slow drag of your fingers down your own throat during the bridge of whatever trap remix was playing. he tipped five hundreds tucked neatly into your garter like it was nothing and left before last call.

second month he started talking.

short sentences. rough voice that cut through the bass. “you always this flexible?” “that move—do it again.” you’d laugh, lean in close during a lap dance, whisper “only for good tippers,” and feel his thigh tense under you when your breath hit his ear.

third month he started staying after closing.

he waited in the parking lot once—leaning against his matte-black truck, cigarette between his lips, hood up against the rain. he offered you a ride home when your uber canceled. you said yes. he didn’t try anything. just drove. radio low. knuckles white on the wheel. he dropped you at your door and waited until the light came on upstairs before pulling away.

fourth month he started touching.

not during dances—he never broke club rules in public. but in private rooms, when you whispered “you can tonight,” his hands would finally land. big. rough. calloused palms sliding up your thighs, gripping your ass hard enough to leave prints you’d feel the next morning. he’d groan low against your neck when you ground down on him, cock straining through his jeans, leaking enough that you could feel the wet spot when you dragged over it.

fifth month he started asking questions that weren’t about the job.

“you eat yet?” “you cold in here?” one night he slipped a takeout bag under the booth table. “don’t want you passing out on stage,” he muttered. you ate it in the dressing room between sets, your heart doing something stupid in your chest.

sixth month he kissed you.

not during a dance. instead, he did it after closing in the back hallway by the employee exit with the fluorescent light buzzing overhead. you were counting tips, glitter still stuck to your collarbones. he stepped too close, caged you against the lockers with one arm, and tilted your chin up with scarred knuckles.

he kissed you slow and deep. like he’d been starving for it. tongue sliding against yours, tasting the cherry gloss you wore for the last set. when he pulled back his eyes were almost black.

“been wanting to do that since the first night.”

seventh month—tonight—he didn’t sit in the booth.

he waited until your set ended, until the lights came up a little, until the crowd thinned. then he walked straight to the stage steps while you were still collecting bills, crouching so his face was level with yours.

“private room,” he said. voice gravel. “now.”

you didn’t argue.

the vip room felt smaller that night. red walls closer. couch softer when he sat and pulled you onto his lap without asking. your thong was already soaked—had been since you saw him walk in. he didn’t waste time unzipping. he just yanked the thin strip of fabric aside, lined himself up, and sank you down onto him in one slow, deliberate slide.

you gasped—head falling back against his shoulder. he was thick. always had been. he stretched you wide and filled you so completely your thighs trembled before you even started moving. the head nudged deep—right against that spot that made your breath hitch—and he held you there for a long second, letting you feel every pulsing vein, every throb, the way your walls fluttered around him like they were trying to pull him deeper.

his hands clamped on your hips—fingers digging into soft flesh hard enough to bruise. he didn’t move yet. he just rocked you in tiny, teasing circles, grinding the base of his cock against your clit while he stayed buried to the hilt. you whimpered, hips twitching forward on instinct.

“been thinking about this all week,” he muttered against your throat. his lips brushed your pulse point. teeth grazed the skin, then bit down just enough to sting. “you on my lap like this. no music. no rules. just you taking every inch. feeling how fucking deep i can get.”

you rolled your hips slowly, lifting just enough to feel him drag along your walls on the way out, then sank back down until your ass met his thighs with a soft slap. he groaned, head tipping back against the couch. scarred lips parted. eyes half-lidded, dark with want.

“fuck—yeah. ride me slow. let me feel it. every little squeeze.”

you obeyed. you lifted and dropped in long, languid strokes, making sure he felt every ridge inside you, every flutter when you clenched on the upstroke. your tits bounced softly with each roll—rhinestone pasties catching the dim red light. his hands slid up—cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples through the sparkly fabric until they were aching peaks. he leaned forward, mouth closing over one—sucking hard through the rhinestone, tongue flicking the sensitive bud while his teeth tugged just enough to make you arch.

pleasure sparked, coiling low in your belly. you ground down harder, circling your hips so his cock pressed against that spot inside. your clit rubbed against his pelvis with every roll. slick coated him—dripped down his shaft, soaked his balls, stained the couch beneath you. the wet sounds were obscene—the soft squelch every time you sank down, the loud slap when your ass met his thighs.

“toji—” your voice cracked—breathless.

“say it again.” his grip tightened—fingers bruising your hips now, guiding you faster. “say my name while you fuck yourself on my cock.”

“toji—please—”

he growled and flipped you suddenly. your back hit the velvet couch—legs hooked over his shoulders in one smooth motion. he thrust back in—deep, hard, relentless. the angle changed everything—he was hitting deeper now, bullying that spot with every snap of his hips. the couch creaked under the force. your nails raked down his arms, leaving red trails through the sleeves of his hoodie.

he fucked you like he was making up for every night he had only watched—like he was claiming every second he had spent sitting in the dark wanting this. long, punishing strokes that dragged along your walls, made your vision blur at the edges. one hand slid up and wrapped around your throat, thumb pressing under your jaw so you felt the pressure every time you gasped.

“look at me,” he rasped. “watch me while i ruin this pussy.”

you did—eyes locked on his—green burning into you, pupils blown wide. sweat beaded at his temples, dark hair sticking to his forehead. his scar pulled tight when he snarled. his hips were snapping forward harder and faster. the wet slap of skin on skin filled the room—mixing with your broken moans, his low grunts, the obscene squelch every time he bottomed out.

he reached between you to find your clit with his thumb, rubbing tight, fast circles that matched the brutal rhythm of his thrusts. pleasure coiled impossibly tight, building faster than you could handle.

“gonna come for me?” he growled. “gonna soak my cock like you’ve been dreaming about every time you see me in that booth?”

“yes—fuck—yes—”

“then do it.” his thumb pressed harder and circled faster. “come all over me. let me feel how tight you get when you fall apart.”

you shattered—back bowing off the couch, walls clamping down like a vice, fluttering wildly around him. slick gushed—drenching him, his thighs, the velvet beneath you. you sobbed his name, tears pricking your eyes from how good it felt. he fucked you through it with short, brutal thrusts that dragged the orgasm out until your legs shook uncontrollably, thighs trembling around his shoulders.

his rhythm stuttered—hips jerking erratically. he buried himself deep one last time—groaned long and low against your throat—and came. hot, thick pulses flooded you—spilling deep inside, painting your walls until it overflowed, creamy white leaking out around him, streaking your ass and the couch in slow, sticky rivulets.

he kept grinding slowly, pushing every drop deeper while his thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing soft now, drawing out tiny aftershocks that made you twitch and whimper. his fingers slipped down to catch the mess leaking out. he pushed it back inside with two thick digits, curling them once just to feel you flutter again.

“keep it in,” he murmured. he kissed your temple. “don’t let a single drop go to waste.”

you were both panting—sweaty, wrecked, tangled together on the vip couch. he stayed buried inside you for a long minute—still half-hard—grinding gently while his hands stroked your sides, soothing the bruises he left.

when he finally eased out, more followed. warm. thick. sliding down your thighs in slow trails. he watched it with dark, satisfied eyes—thumb smearing it back up your skin like he was marking you—then hauled you close.

“quit the late shifts,” he said quietly, voice gravel but tender. “come home with me instead.”

you blinked up at him—still trembling, still full of him, thighs sticky.

“you asking me to stop dancing?”

he exhaled—almost a laugh. he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“nah. just asking you to dance for me. only me. no more strangers watching.”

you smiled, still feeling him leak out of you.

“you gonna keep tipping me five hundreds?”

he smirked, scarred lip pulling up.

“baby, i’ll give you whatever you want.”

❤︎⁠ tryna be creative lol (˶˃⤙˂˶)

lilikoiyu

gojo is addicted to filming you while fucking !

gojo satoru was addicted to filming you.

it had started innocently enough—or as innocent as anything ever was with him. one lazy sunday morning, when you were still half-asleep and riding him slow, he had grabbed his phone from the nightstand with that mischievous grin and whispered, “just one video, baby. for my eyes only. i wanna watch how pretty you look when you come on my cock.”

you had said yes.

now it had become a ritual.

every time he fucked you, the phone came out. sometimes he set it up on the tripod in the corner of the bedroom so it captured everything in a wide angle. sometimes he held it himself, filming close-ups of his thick cock stretching you open, the way your body moved with every thrust, the slick mess coating his shaft when he pulled out just to push back in deeper.

he loved the sounds most of all.

“listen to that,” he would groan, angling the camera down between your bodies so the microphone caught the wet, filthy squelch every time he bottomed out. “hear how sloppy your pussy gets for me? fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my balls.”

he always made sure to get your face too—the way your eyes rolled back, the way your mouth fell open when he hit that spot inside you, the broken moans and whimpers of his name that spilled out when you were close.

“say it louder,” he would demand, voice rough as he fucked you harder, his free hand gripping your thigh to spread you wider for the camera. “tell the camera who’s making you feel this good. who owns this tight little cunt.”

you always gave in. “you do, satoru—fuck—only you—”

he saved every single video.

they were stored in a heavily encrypted folder on his phone titled “private collection ❤︎,” with a little heart emoji he thought was subtle. there were dozens now. some were short clips of you sucking him off in the back of the car after a mission. some were long, hour-long tapes where he edged you for ages before finally letting you come. there was even one from the time he fucked you against the floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse while the city lights glittered behind you.

he watched them when you were away.

when you were on a solo mission, or visiting family, or just busy with work that kept you late, he would lock himself in his bedroom, pull up the folder, and pick one at random. sometimes it was the one where you were riding him reverse cowgirl, your body moving as you took every inch. sometimes it was the one where he had you folded in half, legs over his shoulders, pounding you so deep the camera caught the bulge in your lower belly.

he stroked himself slow at first, matching the rhythm on the screen, groaning your name under his breath. “fuck, look at you… taking me so well even when i’m not there.”

his hand sped up as the video got filthier. he loved the parts where you begged—when you were crying and whimpering “please, satoru, fill me up, i need your cum.” he always came hard to those, thick ropes spilling over his fist while he watched himself on the screen.

after he finished, he didn’t delete anything. he just wiped his hand off and sent you a quick text:

toru: miss you. watched our video from last thursday. you looked so pretty crying on my cock. can’t wait to make a new one when you get home.

you always replied with something flustered and needy, and he grinned like an idiot, already planning the next tape.

sometimes he got bold.

he would send you short clips while you were at work—a ten-second snippet of him thrusting into you from behind, his hand fisting your hair, the sound of skin slapping skin loud and clear. the message always came with the same caption:

toru: thinking about you. hurry home so we can film the sequel.

he never pressured you to let him post them or share them. those videos were strictly for him—his private collection, his dirty little secret. he watched them when he was stressed after a long day, when he was horny and you weren’t around, when he just wanted to relive how perfect you felt wrapped around him.

and every time he filmed a new one, he made sure to whisper against your lips right before he started recording:

“smile for the camera, baby. gonna watch this one later when i’m all alone and missing this tight pussy.”

then he fucked you like he was trying to make sure the next video was even better than the last.

because gojo satoru didn’t just love fucking you.

he loved keeping every single moment of it forever.

so he could watch you fall apart for him again and again.

even when you weren’t there.

lilikoiyu

angry sex with gojo !

the apartment door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the framed photos on the wall. you didn’t even get a chance to kick off your shoes before satoru was on you—long fingers wrapping around your wrist, yanking you back against his chest like you were his to claim. again.

“you think that’s funny?” his voice was low and dangerous, nothing like the usual cocky lilt. his piercing blue eyes were blazing, pupils blown wide with something feral. “laughing, touching his arm, letting him buy you that fucking drink while i stood there like an idiot?”

you pulled your arm free, spinning to face him. your heart was hammering—anger, adrenaline, and the low throb of arousal you hated admitting to when he was like this. “it was one conversation, satoru. one. you were the one who dragged me to that stupid party, then spent half the night flirting with every girl who batted their lashes at you.”

his laugh was sharp and bitter. “flirting? i was being polite. you were practically in his fucking lap.”

“bullshit.” you shoved at his chest; he didn’t budge, just crowded you back until your spine hit the wall. “you’re the one who gets jealous over nothing. always. like i’m gonna run off with some nobody when i have—”

“when you have what?” he snapped, palms slamming flat on either side of your head. his scent flooded your senses. “say it.”

you glared up at him, chin lifted defiantly. “when i have you acting like a possessive asshole every time someone looks at me.”

something snapped in his expression.

one second he was towering over you, the next his mouth crashed into yours—hard, punishing, forcing your lips apart with his tongue. he growled into your mouth, hands dropping to your hips, yanking you flush against him so you could feel how hard he already was.

“you want to play games?” he muttered against your lips. “fine. let’s play.”

he spun you around without warning, pressing your front to the wall. one hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back so he could speak right against your ear.

“you think i didn’t notice how you kept glancing over at me?” his voice dropped lower. rougher. “smirking like you knew exactly what you were doing. teasing me. pushing me.”

his hand shoved your skirt up roughly, fingers hooking into your panties and yanking them down your thighs in one impatient tug. you gasped as the cool air hit your exposed skin, then moaned when he kicked your legs wider apart.

“satoru—”

“shut up.” his voice cracked with raw need. fingers slid between your folds, finding you already slick—your traitorous body betraying how much his jealousy turned you on. he cursed under his breath. “of course you’re soaked. you love this shit, don’t you? love making me lose my fucking mind.”

two long fingers plunged inside you without warning, curling hard against that spot that he knew made your knees buckle. you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the cry, but he yanked it away immediately.

“no. let me hear you.” he pumped faster, thumb circling your clit. “tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

you gritted your teeth, refusing to give in so easily. “fuck you.”

he laughed—and then pulled his fingers out just as you started to clench around them. the sudden emptiness made you whine.

his belt clinked open. zipper rasped down.

“say it,” he demanded, teasing his tip through your drenched folds, coating himself in your wetness. “or i stop right now and you can go finish what you started with that guy.”

the threat hit like ice water.

you bucked back against him instinctively. “you—asshole—”

he thrust in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

the stretch burned in the best way, your walls fluttering around him as he filled you completely. you cried out, nails scraping the wall.

“that’s it, baby,” he hissed, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “this what you wanted? me so fucking jealous i can’t think straight? me ruining this tight little cunt until you forget anyone else’s name?”

you couldn’t form words anymore—just broken moans and gasps as he fucked you against the wall. one hand slid around to grip your throat, reminding you who was in control. the other found your clit again, rubbing messy circles that made your vision blur.

“look at you,” he growled. “taking it so well even when you’re being a little brat. bet that guy couldn’t make you this wet. bet he couldn’t fuck you like this.”

jealousy bled into every word. every thrust.

he wasn’t gentle that night.

he was claiming.

you clenched around him on purpose, earning a choked groan.

“a-ah—toru—fuckkkk—”

the pace turned brutal—short, punishing strokes that hit deep with every snap of his hips. the wet slap of skin on skin filled the hallway, loud and obscene.

“i’m gonna fill you up,” he panted against your neck. “gonna pump you so full you’ll be dripping me for days. no one else gets to touch what’s mine.”

“toru—i’m gonna cum—”

the possessiveness tipped you over.

your orgasm hit hard—walls spasming around him as you cried out his name. he didn’t slow down, pushing you through it until your legs shook.

“fuck—”

his rhythm stuttered. one last deep thrust and he buried himself as far as he could go, spilling inside you with a guttural moan.

he stayed there for a long moment, breathing ragged against your shoulder.

slowly, the grip on your throat eased into something almost tender.

he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“…you okay?” his voice was rough now. quieter.

you turned your head just enough to catch his eye. “you still jealous?”

he huffed a laugh, nuzzling into your neck. “always. but you’re mine.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. i know.”

he pulled out slowly, watching the mess drip from you with dark satisfaction before scooping you up into his arms.

“shower. then bed. and next time some idiot tries to flirt with you…”

you smirked up at him. “you’ll what? fuck me senseless again?”

“try me.”

you didn’t doubt he meant it.

❤︎⁠ first work kinda nerv. . .

lilikoiyu

bsf!gojo walking in on you touching yourself to him . . .

the apartment was quiet except for your own uneven breathing and the faint buzz of the little vibrator you’d had pressed between your thighs for the last twenty minutes. door was locked. lights were dim. you were sprawled on your bed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt, the one he had left here last week after crashing on your couch. it still smelled like him: clean laundry, that stupid expensive cologne, and something warmer underneath.

you were so close. thighs trembling, hips rocking in tiny desperate circles, slick coating your fingers and dripping down to the sheets. the vibrator hummed steady against your clit, low setting because you had wanted it to last, wanted to drag it out until your mind went blank.

you didn’t hear the front door.

you didn’t hear the keys, or his footsteps, or the soft click of your bedroom door being pushed open because you had forgotten to lock it after he texted he was “five minutes away with takeout.”

all you registered was the sudden shift in the air—someone was there—and then his voice, low and wrecked.

“holy fuck.”

your eyes snapped open.

gojo was standing in the doorway, takeout bag forgotten on the floor. those stupid blue eyes were wide, pupils blown, staring right at where your legs were spread, fingers still buried inside yourself, vibrator buzzing uselessly against your swollen clit.

you froze, heart slamming against your ribs.

he didn’t move either. he just watched—chest rising and falling faster than normal, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“s-satoru—” your voice cracked, small and mortified and still so fucking turned on.

he exhaled hard through his nose and took one slow step inside. then another. he kicked the door shut behind him without looking.

“don’t fucking stop,” he said, voice rougher than you’d ever heard it. “keep going.”

your brain short-circuited. “what?”

“you heard me, baby.” he leaned back against the door, arms crossed, but his hands were clenched into fists like he was holding himself back. “you were so pretty like that. don’t get shy now.”

heat flooded your face, your chest, your cunt. you should have been embarrassed. you should have covered up. instead your fingers twitched inside yourself—instinct, need—and a soft whimper slipped out.

his eyes darkened instantly.

“fuck,” he breathed. “that’s it. show me how you touch yourself when you think about me.”

your breath hitched. “i—i wasn’t—”

“bullshit.” he smirked, but it was shaky. hungry. “that’s my shirt. you’re wearing my shirt while you fuck yourself stupid. you gonna lie to my face?”

you couldn’t answer. you could only stare at him—tall, broad, hard cock already straining against his sweats like it hurt. he wasn’t touching himself yet. just watching. like this was the best show he’d ever seen.

you swallowed and pressed the vibrator harder against your clit. you rolled your hips up into it. a broken moan spilled out before you could stop it.

“good girl,” he murmured. voice like velvet dragged over gravel. “just like that. spread your legs wider. let me see.”

you did. thighs falling open farther, fingers pumping slow and deep, the wet squelch obscene in the quiet room. his gaze was burning—locked on where you were stretched around your own fingers, on the way your slick shone in the low light.

“faster,” he said. “fuck yourself like you wish it was me.”

your free hand flew to your tit, pinching your nipple through the shirt—his shirt. you whimpered his name without meaning to.

“yeah,” he groaned. “say it again.”

“ngh—fuck—satoru—”

he snapped.

he crossed the room in two strides and dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. big hands grabbed your thighs, yanking you toward him until your ass was hanging off the mattress. the vibrator clattered to the floor; he didn’t care. just buried his face between your legs and licked one long, slow stripe up your dripping cunt.

you cried out—sharp and overwhelmed. fingers flew to his hair, tugging hard.

“ah—toru—feels s-so good.”

he growled against you. tongue plunging inside, curling, fucking you with it while his nose ground your swollen clit. he was messy—hungry—lapping up every drop like he’d been starving. one hand slid up under the shirt, palm flat on your stomach, holding you down while you writhed.

“taste so fucking good,” he mumbled into your pussy. “been dying to do this for such a long time. every time you wear my clothes. every time you look at me like that.”

you were shaking. so close again. thighs clamping around his head.

“yesyesyes satoru—gonna—please—”

he pulled back just enough to look up at you—chin glistening, eyes wild, lips swollen. “come on my tongue, baby. wanna taste all of you.”

then he dove back in—sucking your clit hard, two thick fingers shoving inside, curling against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

you came hard—back bowing, thighs locking, a broken sob tearing out of you as you gushed around his fingers, soaking his hand, his chin, the sheets. he didn’t stop—kept licking, kept pumping, drawing it out until you were whimpering, oversensitive, pushing weakly at his head.

he finally pulled away and kissed the inside of your thigh like it was precious. he then climbed up your body, caging you under him.

his cock was still rock-hard against your thigh through the sweats. he was breathing ragged, forehead pressed to yours.

“you gonna let me fuck you now?” he whispered. voice wrecked. “or you gonna make me beg?”

you reached down to palm him through the fabric of his pants, feeling how thick, how hot, how desperate he was.

you smiled—small, shaky, still trembling from your orgasm.

“take what you want, satoru.”

his eyes flashed.

he was already yanking his sweats down.

and you knew—once he was inside you—there was no going back to just “best friends.”

not tonight.

not ever.

lilikoiyu

cheating on your husband with pool boy!toji !

you’d been married for two years to a man who spent more time at the office than he did with you. big house, shiny ring, empty bed. the kind of lonely that settled deep in your chest and made every quiet afternoon feel endless. your husband had just hired the new pool boy—toji fushiguro, ex-con with a body carved from pure trouble and a stare that made your thighs clench.

the first time you saw him shirtless, sweat sliding down the hard planes of his abs and those thick, scarred pecs, you couldn’t look away. he caught you staring from the kitchen window and smirked like he already knew exactly how wet you were. for two weeks you played this game—bringing him cold drinks in tiny sundresses, bending over slowly, letting the hem ride up your thighs while he worked. he never said much, but his eyes said everything.

your husband left for a three-day business trip that morning. he kissed your cheek quickly and told you not to wait up. the second his car disappeared down the driveway, you changed into the skimpiest white bikini you owned, the one that barely covered anything.

toji was already there when you stepped outside, muscles flexing as he hauled equipment. he straightened up slowly, green eyes dragging over your barely-covered body like he wanted to devour you.

“pool looks good,” you said softly, handing him a fresh towel.

“yeah?” his voice was low and rough. “your husband payin’ me to clean the water… or to keep his pretty little wife entertained while he’s gone playin’ big shot?”

heat flooded through you. you stepped closer, letting your fingers brush over his sweaty chest. “maybe both.”

that was all it took.

toji grabbed your waist and yanked you flush against him, mouth crashing down on yours in a filthy, hungry kiss. his tongue pushed past your lips like he owned you, big hands squeezing your ass hard as he ground his already-hard cock against your stomach. he tasted like salt and smoke and pure sin.

“been eyein’ this married pussy since day one,” he growled against your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “husband not fuckin’ you right, huh? that’s why you’re out here drippin’ for the help.”

he shoved your bikini top down roughly, exposing your tits to the open air. his mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking hard while his teeth grazed the sensitive bud. two thick fingers shoved your bikini bottoms aside and sank straight into your dripping cunt without warning, curling instantly against that spot that made your knees buckle.

“fuck, so wet,” he laughed darkly, pumping his fingers faster, adding a third and stretching you open. his thumb rubbed rough circles on your clit until your legs shook. you came hard on his hand within minutes, moaning loudly as your pussy clenched and gushed around his fingers.

but toji wasn’t done. he spun you around and bent you over the outdoor couch, yanking your bottoms down to your ankles. you heard him free his cock before he rubbed the fat head along your slick folds.

“gonna ruin this tight little hole,” he grunted, then thrust in deep in one brutal stroke.

you cried out at the stretch. he was so fucking big, splitting you open wider than your husband ever had. toji didn’t give you time to adjust. he started pounding into you hard and fast, hips slamming against your ass with loud, wet slaps that echoed across the backyard. every thrust knocked the breath out of you, his heavy balls smacking against your clit.

“take it. take every fuckin’ inch,” he groaned, one hand fisting your hair while the other smacked your ass red. “this what you’ve been creamin’ over every time i’m out here sweatin’? your husband’s tiny dick can’t reach this deep, can it?”

you moaned louder, pushing back to meet his thrusts. he fucked you like that for what felt like forever, switching angles until he was grinding right against your g-spot. you came again with a broken sob, pussy fluttering wildly around his thick cock, but he just kept railing you through it, hips never slowing.

he pulled out suddenly, flipped you onto your back on the wide lounge chair, and dropped to his knees. his mouth attacked your pussy like a man starved—tongue fucking deep into your hole while two fingers rubbed your clit fast and messy. he sucked on your swollen clit until your back arched and you squirted on his tongue, thighs clamping around his head as you screamed.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he growled, climbing back up and shoving your legs over his shoulders. he folded you in half and slammed back inside, even deeper at this angle. his pace was punishing, cock dragging against every sensitive spot as sweat dripped from his chest onto yours.

“ah—s-so big, toji.”

“gonna fill this cheating cunt,” he panted, eyes wild and dark. “pump you so full of my cum it’ll still be leaking out when your husband gets home.”

he fucked you through another orgasm, then pulled out and made you ride him right there on the grass. his hands bruised your hips as he bucked up wildly, forcing you to take every inch while your tits bounced. you rode him until your thighs burned, coming twice more before he flipped you again.

he took you against the cool glass of the sliding door next, your tits pressed flat to the surface while he railed you from behind. one big hand wrapped around your throat, the other rubbed your overstimulated clit as he ground deep.

“what if he comes home early?” toji taunted, voice rough against your ear. “wants to watch his perfect wife gettin’ destroyed by the pool boy? bet he’d cry seein’ how hard you come on my cock.”

“d-don’t say that—fuck,” you moaned.

you came again just from his filthy words, clenching so tight he groaned and spilled inside you for the first time—thick, hot ropes flooding your pussy. but he didn’t stop. he kept fucking his cum deeper, then pulled out only to push you down onto all fours on the grass and mount you again like an animal.

he fucked you slower this time but just as deep, one hand reaching around to play with your clit while he ground against your ass. you lost count of how many times you came—everything blurred into wet, obscene sounds. his low grunts, your hoarse moans, and the constant slap of skin on skin.

by the time the sun started to set, you were shaking, covered in bite marks, bruises on your hips and ass, voice completely wrecked. cum leaked down your thighs in messy streams.

toji carried you inside like you weighed nothing and bent you over the kitchen island for one last round. this time he went slower, almost teasing, dragging his thick cock in and out while whispering filthy praise against your ear.

“this ain’t a one-time thing,” he murmured, grinding deep. “you text me whenever that limp-dick husband leaves the house. i’ll come take care of more than just the pool. this pussy belongs to me now.”

he kissed your shoulder almost gently as he came again, flooding you with another load before finally pulling out. he watched with dark satisfaction as his cum dripped down your legs onto the floor.

“same time tomorrow?” he asked, tucking himself back into his shorts with that signature smirk.

you could only nod weakly, already aching for more.

❤︎ ⁠ finally back after ap exams! who’s ready for my active summer eraaaa

yenayaps

CRAVE

PAIRING: CEO!Gojo x Assistant!Reader

CONTENT: a story in which the bond you share with your boss is as exciting as it is confusing. [tw: MDNI, explicit smùt, mild crack, rom-com vibes with a smidge of angst, satoru being a little shit, office șex, breedıng kınk, piv şex, squırting, creampıe, backșhots] word count: 6.2k notes: little comm for ms. @madamechrissy 🤭 i hope u enjoyed it bby

When you’re as rich and attractive as Satoru Gojo, the world is basically your playground. It was clear on your first day of working as his personal assistant that the man did whatever the hell he wanted and gave no fucks while doing so.

“. . . So with all that being said, I’m sure you can understand why I need you to start dressing in a way that’s more. . . fitting for your stature.”

“Yeah,” you nodded and lightly smiled, feeling a sense of warmth start to creep up your neck. “I understand, Mr. Gojo.”

The thing about Mr. Gojo? He had to be one of the most charming individuals you’ve ever come across. He knows how to make you feel special, even when he’s calling you an outfit repeater with no sense of style at the moment.

madamechrissy

I love this so, so much - im gonna reread it over and over 🥹 tysm for making my ceo gojo so unhinged and such a brat, nghhh!! I adore you hehe.

nxcxllxsevens

Open doors, whispers of us

Warnings: sexual content, power imbalance, jealousy/possessive Levi, praise / degradation elements

Themes: royalty | voyeurism | professional dom

Notes: here's day 2! Enjoy it ;)

Amongst the kingdom, every servant, noble and guard could rejoice their King was just, calm and patient. He never raised his voice or struggled to find control in situations that were getting out of hand. He even went to the war and fought alongside the army, leading and strategizing come back to offer his subjects peace for once.

Now, he is older and wiser. He keeps close those he trusts the most and offers his servants whatever they might need to keep the castle going and his worries at bay. His personal guard always loomed near to protect him from any danger, wherever they might come; and his favorite maid knew exactly how long to brew his tea, clean his chambers and specially, how to brush her nails on his undercut, hard enough to feel it and soft enough to relax the loads of the day.

He was aware that his guard was not around, the shadow of his presence was not at the door, and he stood up to check why, as well as to notify him he requested more tea. Sighing as he saw nobody was outside, he decided to take a short stroll to stretch his legs. He crossed past paintings and flower arrangements that the servants placed every morning to his liking —or rather, their own.—.

The sound of conversation in the library caught his attention, and he started walking silently as he recognizes the voice of his favorite maid, making his scowl appear again before standing closer to the door.

“I always find you working too hard, my lady” He was clearly using a deeper voice, and Levi almost huffed a laugh, she would never fall for his charm. “Let me help you, please. You might strip.”

“Oh, Sebastian! You took me by surprise.”

Levi watched through the half-open door how his guard moved close and gave her the books before she organized them on the bookcase while keeping a protective presence behind her, ready to catch her if needed.

“A good surprise, I hope?”

“Always.”

A tingle of annoyance fluttered on his chest; he noticed how Sebastian always looked at her with shiny eyes. He was a proper gentleman, and he would give his approval to their romance —even as romance between coworkers was forbidden— if it were another person. But no, of course his loyal personal guard was in love with the one woman in the world that meant everything to him.

“Did you get to read the letter I sent you, my lady? I wanted to take you somewhere nice and-”

Without hesitation, Levi opened the door harshly and went inside, eyeing them with clear annoyance in his face before tilting his head, as if he was studying the situation and not actually making it worse.

“I do not recall you having a break.” Straight to the chest.

“Forgive me, your majesty. I just… went to help lady Morage to-“

Levi held his hand up, indicating him to be quiet.

“No more excuses.” He looked at the poor guard until the man nodded nervously, watching at her with a last tiny smile. “I want tea, black and bitter.”

He did not need to call out her name for them to know to whom the order was addressed. He walked over to his office without looking back, knowing they would adjust to the command he offered. Sebastian was worried, he never saw his Majesty this angry before, specially not with him leaving just a couple minutes. He stood by the door of his office, head down with respect as the king went inside and offered an apologetic look to (y/n) before she headed over the kitchen.

Her hands moved faster, water boiling and brewing the herbs were the things that took more time than her serving the tea, grabbing some cookies to accompany and putting them all in a tray, a wicked smile coming on her lips as she knew what was expected when she crossed the office door. Still, she readjusted her expression into a gentle smile as soon as Sebastian so kindly opened the door for her and was about to close it again before-

“Leave it open.”

“Your majesty?” she protested, worried about what was in his mind.

“Come closer, (y/n).”

With a new wave of nerves, she proceeded to serve him the tea professionally, the door half-open enough for anyone outside to see and hear what was happening inside. Placing the cookies basket down, he turned to place his hand over her rear —making use of her bent position— while the free one grabbed the cup, taking a sip and ignoring the hot liquid burning his throat.

“My king—” Her back straightened, shoulders tense as she looked anxiously between the man sitting comfortably by the desk and the door.

“What, are you shy now?” Voice deep, his hand squeezing the soft flesh of her rear before pushing her skirt up, admiring the view of her long legs and the tempting red of her underwear. “I didn’t know you’d become so desired.” On the door, there was a movement and the sound of armor.

“Your highness—”

“What is the content of that letter you received? You did not tell me such things, neither of the flowers you received before.”

“How?” She tried to muster.

“I saw you throwing those things away, and I knew for sure they were, for once, not mine.”

He stood up, pushing her chest against the desk and caging her against it, pressing soft kisses in the length of her neck before biting hard, enough to push a loud hiss and whimper out of her quiet behavior.

“What was the letter about, (y/n)? How did you have time to wander around and hide shit from me when you could barely walk last night? Did I do such a poor job proving who you belong to?” The sound of hard breaths and fabric being open and falling on the ground was all it could be heard. At the front of his door, a pained and embarrassed Sebastian dropped his head to the ground. “Tell me, before I lose my patience.”

“I-It was an invitation, your highness.”

A hard slap landed on her ass, making her nails rail against the desk, wrong answer.

“That is not my name.”

“Master!”

He kneeled with all the intention of making her scream in pleasure while his hands pushed down the last piece of clothes covering her beautiful skin from his eyes. He knew she would try to bite down her moans and whimpers, try to keep any propriety even as she was being destroyed. But he knew how to make her scream.

His tongue teased at her entrance with no other warning, taking her breath away and making her forehead rest against the cool wood as he devoured her, using his elegant fingers to push against the resistance of her walls. Levi knew Sebastian would not turn, but he wanted him to hear them, to hear her. To make a claim, to let word spread.

Her thighs were shaking, and he knew she was close as her own wetness dripped on his chin and chest. He kept pressing his tongue, this time into her clit, pushing her to the edge until she broke apart.

“Levi!”

“Not yet, you will come on my cock. Be a good girl.”

Sebastian knuckles were white from the strength he was using to hold the sword. The woman he planned for so long to pursue was the King’s and he was making him hear how he possessed her. Sweat formed on his forehead as he remained standing and looking at the front, even if he grew hard despite himself at the sinful sound she tried to quiet, but Levi dragged every sound out of her.

“Turn around, sweet thing.”

The natural submission she had to turn and follow every command that left his mouth was making Levi’s cock twitch. Without wasting more time, he grabbed her like a ragdoll by the thighs and pushed over the desk, sending the cup, the cookie basket, and a stack of perfectly arranged documents crashing to the ground. Her hooded eyes were making his chest puff.

Hell yes, she’s mine.

Levi’s hips set a hard and unforgiving pace. The room was covered in her moans, his grunts, the squeak of the desk moving and the wet sound of his fluid mixing in every thrust. Her nails sank into his skin, and the sensible situation along with his previous teasing were quickly making her see stars.

“Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this good. You’re mine, aren’t you? This cunt calls and cries out my name.”

Her cheeks were red with shame and exertion, a layer of sweat covering their bodies while he worked hard, punishing for something that was only in his mind. But it was too late to care, not when her walls were hugging him so nicely, and certainly not as his hand came between their bodies to rub at her nub of nerves.

“Say it, (y/n).”

“I’m yours! Entirely, please…”

“Yes, you are. Mine to pursue, to contact, to love, to please. Mine and only mine.”

The climax broke through them like a quick fire making them shake and hold harder into each other. He was breathing hard as he spilled inside her for the first time, and he secretly hoped to put a child in her, not that it would be the last time of it.

He sighed once again, hugging her on his chest as he draped his coat on her shoulders and pulled his clothes back on, carrying her like a baby to his room under the scandalized stare of maids and guards by equal.

Hell, now I need a new personal guard.

nxcxllxsevens

Broken glass

Warnings: sensual content

Themes: postwar | age difference | spanking

Notes: I am veery excited to participate in another wonderful event from @levievent, this time all NSFW. I hope you enjoy day 1 and keep me company on the other six :)

The world hasn’t healed properly after the Rumbling. But every pair of hands that turned to build, sow or water any plant or relationship was more than welcome. People still needed to learn to be together, not let war and hate blind their senses; every being that survived had a deep wound of the devastation Eren Jeager left in the world. Levi was one of them, even if he tried to deny it.

After the injuries improved, he could now walk and attend his tea shop better, more comfortably. His body still had some healing to do, but it was less painful to be himself.

The popularity of his shop was growing, along with the legend he refused to believe himself to be, fighting against Eren’s destruction and risking his life for humanity once again, which made people want to see him, talk to him. Of course, he was even gentler than before all the disasters happened. He was no longer a soldier, just a man finding his own purpose in the years ahead of him, after having everything taken away. But his stoic personality did not disappear, and people quickly realized they could admire him without being fussy, or “too loud and annoying”.

And so, to keep up with the clients and fans —although he hated the word—, he needed someone else. Another pair of hands along with his and Falco or Gabi. The store was not enormous, but there was not much he could do when the tables filled with a big group of people.

The bell rang and the cause of his irritation these days appeared. All smiles and kindness, with a terrible clumsiness that could make his eyes pop out of his skull after he rolls them back with annoyance. In all honesty, she was not terrible, but it still unnerved him. And it seemed that today would be another long, hard day again. He could notice some fur on her socks, probably from any of the stray cats she likes so much to pet, and she carried the same guilty smile as usual; like she had to apologize for existing and taking up space.

“What are you doing here?” His voice broke through the sound of her footsteps. She stopped, looking quickly behind her to check he was indeed talking with her, the current waitress of “Levi’s Tea Shop”, about to get ready with her work.

“I… came to work?”

“Your shift starts by noon, it is 10am.”

Of course, there was a small change in her schedule, but it easily went away from her mind since her body was already used to the previous one. Shrugging, she walked into the kitchen like it belonged to her, washing her hands and putting on the apron before looking up at Levi, who still had a scowl in his face.

“What? I can stay and get some work done, besides… you’ll open soon.”

Honestly? She was right, but he would NOT say that out loud.

“Don’t get in my way.”

She muffled the laugh that threatened to escape her lips, after all, the clear irritation his face was enough to make her worry of pushing his buttons, once again, her poor boss was not evil but hard to please, and so very easy to annoy. It was intimidating, and she was definitely an admirer of him, wishing to make him satisfied with her work, but it seemed that could never happen, unfortunately.

He was cute with that kind of scowl, his cheeks seemed to be slightly rounded causing her heart to flutter, but her face showed nothing. Next to her, brushing shoulders as can usually happen in a kitchen as tiny as this, Levi considered moving the business into a bigger place or sending her away.

In all honesty, he did not understand why it was so disturbing.

Perhaps it was how she always managed to get so close to him, to brush together or how clumsy and shy she turned when they got so close for too long. Or maybe, it was her lack of awareness of time, enough to let the water boil longer than necessary, or the brew to not get dark enough. It could also be how terrible she was at setting the cups in a straight line.

For the first time that day, he rolled his eyes back —and mentally prepared for all those that surely will come during his working hours next to her—, before standing behind her without any other thought in his mind but correcting her.

“How can you never get them straight?”

“They are in a straight line!”

“No,” shivers went down her back, his presence at her back arose goosebumps. He never got so close. “Like this…”

The way he gently touched her hand and moved it barely enough —making it perfect in his eyes— was almost too much. He inhaled once, twice; and felt marveled by the lavender that he picked up since she started working here. Of course, it was hers.

He took two steps back, even if his fingertips still felt the warmth of her skin and before the moment could extend, the bell rang and clients started arriving, letting them both catch a breath from the burning sensation spreading in their chest.

“Welcome, please come in! What can I get you, ma’am?”

Lavender became a scent he had grown accustomed to.

And other clients noticed too, he looked at how they praised her and her nice scent. It was comic, truly. The tea shop had indeed lavender tea on the menu, but it was not the scent of the herbs that made his brows furrow, or his clients smile.

It became routine to brush each other, skin meeting skin as one reached for a cup and another for a teaspoon or honey. It was work, a regular contact that was expected to happen since the kitchen is not a big place.

For Levi, everything was normal. He was as strict as always because he wanted her place to be perfect, a fine place for people that enjoy the same interest as him to meet each other and have a relaxed moment amongst the chaos of the day.

She did not think the same.

“This… is not right.”

“Uh, I followed all your instructions, sir.”

“The tea is too dark, slightly bitter. Do it again and do it properly this time.”

He noticed the way her jaw tensed just like her shoulders; the rise of her chest faster as emotion flew through her, the neckline of the dress she wore below capturing his eyes. He notices everything, so of course he could notice those things, he was not a pervert.

Often, he would loom over her while watching her work, correcting every tremble and missing second of brew she either wasted or extended with disappointment in his eyes. Touches turned more frequent as he grew even more obsessive while watching any mistake she could make.

At the end of the day, when the sun was already setting and the shop began to get empty, Levi decided it was time to point out all she had and hadn’t done during her shift. But today he felt slightly better, there were a lot of quiet clients and even though it was cloudy, it did not rain.

He could do compliments, even if rare and small.

“You weren’t so shitty today. Hopefully you repeat days like this.”

(y/n) bite down on her tongue as to not insult him in return; she was washing one of the tables and a soft layer of sweat formed on her brow as she looked up at him, as a dull pain sat on her feet after hours of standing and serving people around.

“A you did a good job today, keep it up, can suffice, sir.”

She wouldn’t dare come off as rude or too forward, after all, even if all the admiration she had for the man, she needed the money and working here was a nice chance to not get sent into harder works with terrible conditions. Still, her boss had been insufferable lately, it was not as if he was the friendliest person in the world, but it was clear he was bothered by something he did or herself.

He watched at her back again, sighing and closing the distance as quickly as he could to take the rag on her hand, the soft touch of his fingers against hers had her breath hitching, time stopping as his fingers wrapped on her wrist, shaking his head before turning on the window, noticing the sky was getting dark, and only then he left her hand go.

“It’s getting dark, get going… I’ll finish this.”

There was no room for argument, she waves a soft goodbye after letting down the apron and grabbing her back, frustration and annoyance mixing with the attraction and devotion time builds after working so long periods of time and helping each other. Her mind kept reminding her how nice he was to take her in, even thought she was not the best qualified for the job, but her insistence and his gentleness were what brought her into his world.

Or the times his feet failed him, specially at first when getting used to the crutches and her arms wrapped in his waist, taking him inside the office so he could sit and rest as she returned and took orders and served, after giving him a cup of tea. He was strict, but never cruel; and yet, lately everything seemed worse, harder with him.

The nice moments were not enough to push down his weird behavior as of late, but after such a hard life she supposed it was kind of expected for a man to have some kind of attitude at whatever comes into his life, specially someone as perfectionist as him.

The day went by uneventfully, people coming in and out could not bother or make her nervous anymore, her body now used to the work, moving with the flow. Luckily, the last bite of her conversation with Levi had not been ignored. He was still judgmental, although he opted to be silent recently. She was almost dancing between tables, noon usually got a bit busier since people went to have a light lunch with a cup of tea.

Another group of gentlemen came inside, taking one of the bigger tables and stealing all the attention. She was on them some minutes later, after serving the green tea to the lady near the entrance. They were not particularly loud yet overpowered the rest of the people in the shop.

Red hair, freckles adorning his pretty face and a pleasing smile. Levi could not understand why he was so annoyed that he was calling up for her attention. It was natural, she was young and pretty enough, and he was… acceptable. Still, it pissed him off that he made silly jokes to the group when she took or served their order to make her giggle, the way her head tilted at the praise and her reddened cheeks were making his chest burn with unwelcome heat.

She’s not paying attention to the other clients.

With a soft scoff, he served the rest of the tables as he saw her struggling to catch up with everyone, missing her own break as clients did not stop coming in. The group was taking their dear time to leave. The guy seemed composed, and when Levi pulled her aside for her to catch a breath, he noticed how he turned to the group, talking and laughing as if they owned the place.

The next round of teas was ready, and he served it nicely over the tray before noticing one of the teas was lavender. His scowl deepened, but he remained quiet and walked over their table, neutral face as he on purpose avoided the last cup of tea —the lavender one— while the group ignored him. Only when he served the red head, he made a comment.

“Captain Levi, isn’t it?” The green eyes of the creature in front of him shined with some kind of wickedness Levi did not enjoy. “I admire you, thank you so much for helping us take down the Devil of Paradise and conquer peace”

Levi did not care about the opinion of the rest of the world, he could hear people curse over his loved ones with anger inside and never comment on it. He was over it, truly. He knew who he fought alongside and the value each of them held in his heart and memory. Levi never overreacts; he is a stoic man that controls his emotions like his body. But, it has been a busy day, and he had no time for bullshit.

“Your tea.” He said with an awkward nod, as if that would suffice the energy of a young man filled with much ego and zero sense.

“Could you help me now, to conquer that waitress of yours?”

His lips formed a thin line, and he tilted his head slightly to look at him straight in the eyes until the boy flinched, after trying to match him; as he looked somewhere else, Levi moved from the table before she appeared again, noticeably more relaxed, smiling softly to him as he walked near and more clients arrived.

“Attend the counter, I’ll serve the tables. Be focused, we cannot afford any other mistake.”

“Other mistake?” This time, her brows furrowed as tension built up again, but before any other discussion could extend, a voice from the aisle interrupted them.

“Excuse me, sweetheart?”

Levi sighed as the same idiot returned from whatever the rest of his group went by. His hand moving over her arm to push her behind his back before she could even react and walked over to him with no room for discussion.

“Did you lose something?” The same wicked shine returned to his eyes.

As someone else on in the row cleared their throat, (y/n) moved back to attend them carrying the irritation of Levi’s previous words. The way Levi looked at poor Finn was weird, but there was only much she could do when clients awaited.

“Oh, Captain Levi! No, I just wanted to give miss (y/l/n) a tip for her service.” Insistent, Levi thought. And before he could move, the man walked closer and offered her the bills for her to pick up with a sheepish smile, excusing herself with the client she was already attending.

“Thank you so much, Finn. I am glad you’ve enjoyed your tea; we await for your next visit!”

The coo of the old lady at the front row made Levi’s jaw tense, boringly looking at the interaction between the two of them, walking towards the next table on time to see Finn wink at her and disappear, hopefully, for good this time. He was assertive, but there was certain tension on his shoulders while attending to the rest of the new faces coming in.

Levi never swears or screams, he did not need it. His presence was intimidating enough, one look could share all the emotions he felt and paralyze anyone, even now with a weak leg, missing fingers and a blind eye. He had a venomous tongue, and he made use of it for the rest of the evening.

“Don’t get distracted, we’re full as hell in here.” He murmured, building with words an immense tension that was about to explode any second as more clients came and left, cups of tea delivered and cupcakes served.

When the last client left (y/n) could take a breath, going back to the kitchen to clean with Levi following close behind after closing the door, he was obstinate and he decided it was her fault for lacking during the shift. The lavender scent he came into the kitchen softened his expression, against all odds, but as she struggled to take the tray with the large jug with black tea still warm he opened his mouth and fastened to help her.

“Careful!”

She could barely roll her eyes at his tone, it was exhausting and loud as she set the tray down, her arms crossing her chest after hastily taking off the apron, annoyance written across her pretty features as she faces him.

“I am careful! I get it, boss; it’s been a long day with many clients, but I did not make one single big mistake.”

“If you truly believe that, then you’re more distracted than I thought you were.” He moved closer, almost caging her against the counter. “You let that pretty boy warms your ear, making a long line of clients await as he tried to play Romeo with a large amount of money no waitress would get.”

“Excuse me? It was not my fault he went back for that, besides, what do you prefer me to do? Be rude and let clients go?”

Her words made him huff, grabbing into her arm before whispering dangerously close to her.

“I want you to be focused on work, not out there smiling and getting distracted by any guy offering you nothing but dirty money.”

The closeness made her lose track of her thoughts, his scent blinding her senses before noticing how his eyes roamed over her body, head tilting with a slight smirk, barely there but clear to see. The events of the day were enough for him; how dare she answer back to him and call him a liar?

“He even asked for a cup of lavender tea, did you know?” She shakes her hand in denial, and his finger moves over the mole of her neck, taking her breath away in the process. Her soft lavender scent was addictive, even if he was never a big fan of it.

“I did not expect him to be back.”

He nodded, believing in her for once after torturing her the whole day. Inhaling, he takes a step back as if nothing happened before offering her one last glance to return back to clean the rest of the kitchen.

“You better not.”

It had been exactly one month since Gabi and Falco left for their travel, and with their return today, Levi wished to close early, so he had already planned a short business day so they could come and share some time together. He was not particularly happy, but today he at least could see some of the people he trusts and cares for the most.

The past days had been filled with tension at the tea shop, Finn came incessantly to drink every tea he could and try to woo (y/n), failing after time but becoming a regular and important. He had been harder on her, she was getting distracted and letting her time be wasted by just one client, and he could not have that.

Touches became more usual, too.

Lingering to fix on her apron when she arrived late, helping her adjust the tray, even preventing her from falling after washing the floors by the end of the evening. Levi swore it was only natural for two people that spent almost every day together to become so usual, so familiar with each other. So, touch should not be something special, right?

Wrong.

He looked out for those soft moments, cleaning alongside to brush into her skin and have that damned lavender scent even closer. Perhaps he was losing his mind, she was younger than him and probably interested in that Finn, but then why did it still feel as though every time her eyes landed on him, there was warmth in them??

The bell rang and the cause of his confusion these days appeared; wrapped in a beautiful short dress with a ridiculous and beautiful braid on her hair to prevent them getting on her face. The little flowers were red against her white dress, and he hoped Finn didn’t appear today and he could be the one to look at her like this.

No, stop that.

“Good morning, sir-“

“I’ve told uncountable times to just call me Levi.” He looks up to her, helping her with her coat without a second thought.

“Alright, good morning, Levi. We have a short day ahead, huh?”

Anyone that knows Levi was aware of the importance Gabi and Falco held for him, they were family even if blood did not bond them together. She pulled out her apron, and as usual these days, Levi came up behind her to help with the knot in her back.

“They’ll be back by the evening, so I do not want to be busy here.”

She understood, it was obvious how he cared about making it perfect for their reunion, it was special and unique for him. Turning, she filled herself with bravery and touched his hand gently, he seemed less tense today and she wished to reassure him everything would be fine.

Wrong.

The morning was easy, but the noon brought up the same number of people it usually causes lunch times. Still, it was manageable once they both got into rhythm; that was of course until the bell rang and some of the people she heard about by him and saw through pictures appeared.

The look of Levi widening his eyes and stopping polishing one cup was divine, it made her heart flutter as he tried to be nonchalant while being the center of affection of the members of his old squad. She rushed to them, moving two tables to fit them in and reassured Levi to have everything in control, and luckily, for a while she did.

Giggles and conversation sat on the big table, (y/n) was introduced by Levi but couldn’t linger too much as clients kept on coming, although the store did not fill again. It was nice to see Levi so relaxed, even if he did not speak too much and simply drank on his tea, the shine in his eyes was worth all the attendance she had to do alone.

The next sound of the bell announced Finn, coming in with his enchanting smile and typical charisma that nobody truly knew how to deal with. He walked and noticed the big table, recognizing the others accompanying Levi and moved over the counter where she was brewing another round of teas.

“Full house today, sweetheart?” The thick accent was almost funny, but it was adding even more to his charm. She shakes her head, mentally counting the seconds missing.

“It’s a special day! What can I get you today?” Finn could see the way her eyes softened looking at Levi and the whole group sitting together but also noticed the tension in his jaw and he couldn’t miss a chance to cause havoc.

“I want a lavender tea; they’ve been improving my headaches. Although, it may be your smile too.” He leaned into the counter, tilting his head as his dimples showed, effectively catching her attention with that sentence.

“Oh, I was not aware you had headaches! I would not offer you hard drinks, specially coffee!” Her hands parted from the kettle for a moment; her mind focused on the guy in front her instead of the perfectly timed tea. “I’ll get you a better one: lavender and traces of chamomile, hopefully you like it and buy the herbs? It is my own creation this time.”

“Anything you like, sugar.”

Levi watched the whole interaction from his place, his hold on the cup tightened only a fraction as she finally turned to work, preparing the teas and coming back to his table after giving everyone the tea and refilling the cookies and pastries. He was the first to take a sip, irritation flickered through her eyes as she parted.

Bitter.

The tea was slightly bitter, clearly brewed for longer time than it needed to be. He watched everyone drink it without trouble; Armin smiled over to her anytime she brought more and did not even comment how she confused his sugar for honey. But Levi saw everything, noticed it was not perfect and it did break something inside him.

This was meant to be immaculate, and she messed it all up.

As the closing hours started to near, the store naturally filled up. (y/n) was struggling alone as more requests arrived. She had to be attentive towards Levi and his squad but also serve the clients and entertain an insistent Finn. Soon, it was untenable and she started messing up orders.

“Focus, it’s almost closing time.”

Levi’s words only made her feel worse. Offering another basket of cookies to Finn and taking another tray with more cups filled a client took their chair back, causing him to miss a step and it quickly turned into a whole mess. Porcelain broken, hot tea spreading on the white floor and stress took her breath away.

Between apologies she tried to collect the pieces and Levi joined, helping her stand and cleaning the floors before ushering her back to the office to check if she hurt herself, against her protest of course.

“I told you I’m fine, please, go back to your friends, I’ll handle all.”

He left out a huff, as if she was saying the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“You say that, and now you made a fucking mess.” His words hurt her.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you to keep focused and instead, you kept entertaining that fool of a man. You destroyed a whole tea set, dirtied the floors and made the tea bitter. Clearly, you can’t handle all.”

He saw tears formed in her eyes and the tension abandoned his body for worry, he tried to take one step closer to her as she took a step back, throwing the tray to the floor that made the remaining clients halt inside.

“I’m sorry for not being so perfect like you, sir. I am no soldier, and I do the best I can everyday-“

“Clearly you aren’t, because my soldiers did not wasted time on chatting with pathetic beings that cannot even protect themselves” He walked over, caging her against the desk this time. “What is the good in him?”

The whole office silenced as her expression went from hurt to understanding and exasperation. It seemed to be her time to laugh although bitter and push his chest back, making him move by the surprise of the action.

“Is that what this is about? Are you jealous?”

Levi’s breath hitched, confusion turning into denial.

“I am not.”

“Yes, you so fucking are” His scowl set as she cursed and he finally realized she was more than annoyed. She never swears. “Ever since Finn started coming, and even before that! You are jealous and annoyed because you cant admit your own feelings! Guess what, I do not want to be with someone who cant be honest, at least Finn here tries.”

She pushed him harder and took off the apron, cheeks warming as her body shakes with anger and tries to leave only to be grabbed back, hugged from behind as he nuzzles into his neck making all her movement come to a halt.

“Let me go.”

“No.” He was breathing hard and fast, refusing to let her go without knowing if she ever returns after the way he treated her. Levi felt complete, but unable to find the right words. She was soft in his hands, sweet where he was bitter and he needed her to breath. “He is waiting outside.”

“Yeah? I might let him take me home, at least he doesn’t judge my every action.”

A hiss escaped from his lips before turning her around, slowly and steadily. His hand brushed her hair away to sniff out more from that lavender that had been driving him insane since half a year ago. He was down too badly, and there was no use in denying it.

“No, you’ll stay with me, we take out the clients and speak tomorrow morning.” Done with games, his hands traveled down her waist to finally surrender to the one thing he desired so much. She relaxed in him but did not play along. “And you’ll meet my old squad better as they stay here.”

“You must have lost your mind.”

He nodded over her skin but didn’t let her go.

“You’re mine,” Her thighs squeezed together as the tension built up again, this time for different reasons. “Say it.”

“And if I don’t?”

The low chuckled he let out made her gulp, am I truly that easy to fall?

“Say it.”

“No”

Yes.

The silence of the office broke with the sharp, sudden slap he delivered, her eyes widened as her back arched, a loud gasp escaping her lips as the sting in her skin had her legs opening, bending over the desk before looking up at him over her shoulders but his hand already pulled the skirt of her dress up.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” Voice trembling, but her body clearly lingered over his.

“Say it.”

“Levi!”

Another one hit her ass, harder and leaving a mark against her skin. This time she couldn’t hide the moan on time. It was risky, anyone could come in and find them in an uncomfortable situation, but the change of events so quickly had her mind on blank, and before she could even speak he landed two more.

“I’m yours! Oh my… I’m so yours, I’ve been for so long now.”

“Good girl.”

He finally let her turn and immediately attacked her lips, savoring the honey out of her tongue from the tea she took before everything became chaotic, he wanted to keep his hands on her waist and pull her down after, but the soft skin of her now exposed legs was the more delicious option. It has been too long since Levi gave into his desires and yet, a knock by the door and Gabi calling out his name brought them back. He looked down at her with hunger and love, and when he did not turn to answer, she knew it was her turn to reassure him that she wouldn’t leave, at least not until they had a proper conversation.

“I’m staying.”

mewnbuns

⭒ DILUC, minors do not interact.

fem reader. dry humping. something short and fast for his birthday, i hope i made it. i’m a sucker for a man in an armchair. petnames ; sweetheart, my love. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist.

you can gauge from the long, drawn out sigh that leaves DILUC lips when he comes home exactly how his day has went, watching as he crosses the room with a grunt before he falls back into his arm chair that’s pushed cozily into the corner of the room.

he’s sitting opposite you as you curl up on the other, fireplace burning between you both and you choose to rest the book that you were half-reading to the side as you admire him gently from where you sit.

you watch the way diluc reaches around to messily pull his hair back into a quick ponytail next, trying to quickly tame the vermillion locks as he reveals more of his handsome features to you. before finally, he’s meeting your gaze from under his bangs and patting his lap expectantly. although, you can tell by his expression that it’s meant more as a plea than anything else.

“won’t you come here a moment, my love?”

still, you can’t help but feel quite flattered that you’re the person he wants to lose himself in when he’s like this, his awe of you warms you and makes you ache when you approach him. it’s instinctive but captivating, watching his legs spread in wait before you’re slinking your way into his lap, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders to squeeze at the tight muscle as he props his head up with his hand.

mewnbuns

OPEN UP FOR ME | WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley x fem! reader. minors do not interact. age gap — wriothesley is imagined to be in his mid to late forties and i imagine reader to be around mid twenties ( ages never explicitly mentioned, so imagine the ages what you may please ). implied first times together. lots of teasing + reader cums early. size kink. wc. 1.2k words.

notes. i am sorry this is pure filth no plot…. something came over me but i had to exorcise it asap!

Wriothesley knew this would be a tight fit.

You had basically told him yourself when your jaw had dropped at the first sight of his cock, the heavy length of him looking even more daunting in comparison to your much smaller hands. He knew he was the oldest man you’ve been with, but the biggest? Seems he wins in that category too.

But Wriothesley thinks you’re nothing if not eager. Despite being out of your depth, he can admire that you’re trying— even if you’re only getting as far as wrapping your lips half way down the shaft. You’ve been going between suckling at the tip and kissing down the sensitive glands of each side to ease yourself into it slowly, but he likes that.

He likes the way your teary eyes blink up when you’re choking around him, struggling to take more as he pets at your hair and he’s probably twisted for thinking it. But what’s not to love? A young, pretty girl like you putting your all into looking after a guy like him. Oh yeah, he’s in heaven.

But it seems your enthusiasm can only get you so far.

“W-wrio, can’t—it’s so big!” You whine, shuddering as Wriothesley keeps you completely subdued beneath him, pinned completely by his weight and strength. A big, warm hand wedges itself beneath your cheek and he slowly turns your head to face him, his nose nudging at your skin as he chuckles softly along your jaw.

“Oh yeah? You gonna loosen up for me then, hm?” Wriothesley asks before deliberately rocking his hips again, hissing when your tight pussy tries its best to stretch around the width of him. It’s so much, too much. He’s not even half-way in and you’re already struggling to breathe, leaving raised welts and scratches along his muscled back and choking on your words as you lean into his heavy, rough palm.

“Too big.” You say again, gasping, knowing it’s all you can manage.

“Really? Well how about now then?” Wriothesley tilts his head, and then grinds deep up into you, pushing in another few inches as you flatten entirely beneath him. His huge body glues itself to you, heat and sweat and all, and your pussy seems to squeeze down even tighter as Wriothesley drags his nose across your cheek, gritting his teeth, “Feels even bigger, right?”

“Y-yeah…“ You say, a thoughtless, soft sound.

“Yeah?” Wriothesley mimics, soft, crooning syllables against your slack cheek.

You whine with the teasing edge to his low, tumbling purr. “Mhm,”

mewnbuns

⭒ WRIOTHESLEY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

fem reader. a lot of teasing. just the tip-esque. wrio is not quite convinced you’ll be able to take him. this started as a selfship post and then i had to elaborate.

word count. 1.1k words. ₊ 𓂃 return to masterlist.

“Quit teasing me, just put it in.” You gasp from where Wriothesley has you spread out on the sheets beneath him. You’ve been like this— a writhing mess of pleas and whines— for the best part of 10 minutes, but still the Duke over you has made no effort to ease the way your body is pulsing for the press of his cock. Not in the way you need anyway.

“And why would I do that, hm?” He grins down at you from where he’s kneeling between your spread thighs and it’s terribly unfair the way he’s teasing you right now, giving you a look while he slowly strokes the length of his cock with his fist.

“Because… because I asked nicely.” Your lips jut out, and the adorable look makes Wriothesley tilt his head down at you before he readjusts his knees, bringing himself a bit closer as you try to rise your hips up to meet him. He doesn’t hesitate to press his palm into your lower abdomen to pin you back down against the bed, and it makes you sniffle adorably

“Oh yeah? How lovely.” His words drawl as he raises a brow at you, but he still gives you a bit more than he has up until this point by letting the weight of his cock press up against your lower abdomen. It’s like he’s giving you a taste of how deep he’ll be reaching, and it makes something in your next breath catch when you feel the realisation make even him twitch.

Wriothesley’s cock is thick and long, and it’s only emphasised by the way he’s measuring it up against your stomach. Infact, you even go as far as to spread your thighs as if to tempt him in, the anticipation already making you burn even warmer.

“You think you can take it?” Wriothesley’s asks, his voice low as he admires just how deep his cock will reach, how far up into the press of your walls he’ll bury himself and he wonders how many inches you’ll be able to take before you’re squeezing, creaming around him. That thought alone drives him to draw his hips back, just enough to have the tip of his cock falling to graze between your slick folds— and it’s addicting the way your hips shake in delight against his palm.

mewnbuns

⭒ 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑺𝑳𝑬𝒀, minors do not interact

fem reader. not explicity stated masseuse reader but you are giving him a massage. wriothesley needs to relax more. brief clothed handjob. teasing. sensitive wrio -> mention of his scars especially. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist.

“you can relax, you know. it won’t kill you.” you snort as you watch him,

it was quite amusing really— seeing the renowned duke of the fortress of meropide, stiff as a board as he rests on the small stool you basically had to force him onto in his office.

WRIOTHESLEY’s only got himself to blame for this really, although you think he’s the only person who would act like receiving a free massage from their lover was some sort of punishment. you can still hear him grumbling beneath his breath as he taps his boot against the metal floors nervously and you try not to laugh at his unease when it comes to actually relaxing for once.

your lovers habit of being a hard worker was what got him his position in the fortress in the first place.. but it’s also to blame for the one he’s found himself in now— alongside his capabilities in the boxing ring ofcourse. but after a few too many nights of watching him crack and twist his body to try and ease his many, many aches— you decided to take it upon yourself to show him how to actually deal with them.

even though you basically had to wrestle wriothesley out of the heavy top half of his uniform after a lot of persuasion; revealing the scarred planes of hard muscle and rough lines along his chest and shoulders to you, and finally leaving him only in his pants and boots as he huffs impatiently from his seat.

“well, relaxing isn’t exactly in my job description.. this isn’t exactly the kinda place you want to be caught off guard in a dark corner.” the duke shivers in his half-nudity (a little dramatically in your opinion) as he fidgets, waiting for you to begin.

mewnbuns

cw. fem reader. minors do not interact. age gap ; wriothesley is imagined to be in his mid to late forties and i imagine reader to be around mid twenties ( ages never explicitly mentioned, so imagine the ages what you may please ). mating press, prone bone + headlock at the end. disclaimer that i do not think late forties is old, wrio simply believes reader is young.

Wriothesley is used to the looks.

The years have been kind to him. His salt and pepper hair compliments his complexion and he’s grown used to the scars that decorate most of his chest and biceps. The once chiseled muscles across his body having softened into a bigger, rounder look.

He prefers it that way.

So do you.

That’s why you’re always nuzzling into the meat of Wriothesley’s bicep on the streets of Fontaine. Not a care in the world as you squish yourself into the plush skin beneath you and he’s shameless about it when he curls you in close so he can steal a kiss.

Why shouldn’t he be? Having you on his arm is quite the trophy.

The passersby probably think a young thing like you runs circles around him. Like he’s not at the prime of his life just because he’s got a pretty girl like you hanging off of his frame. Not that Wriothesley cares, or that they’re even right about that.

If anything, it’s quite the opposite. He doesn’t quite run circles around you… but run through you? Oh yeah. That, he definitely does.

You’ve probably never taken a cock like this before him. Cock from a man that forces your walls to spread out so mercilessly around the width of him, he’s so thick. Wriothesley’s balls have gotten heavier as he’s gotten older but maybe that’s down to him having to make sure he’s filling you up in a way he knows you’re able to take.

He knows you love it.

winter-pear

possessive men having angry jealous missionary sex…..,,,, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at them….. looking back at them all lovestruck and them getting even more possessive because they want to be the only one to see you that way..,,,,…. aaaaughhshdhff

kendymaycry

lazy saturday morning sex while he rasps in our ear about how he thought about you all night and just couldn’t help himself anymore…he’s wrapped around your back, his hands are cupping your breasts and thumbing at your nipples, he’s nibbling the back of your neck you realize what an absolutely perfect fit your ass is against his hips and crotch and

dyke-antlers

Thinking of her lying on her tummy as I get strapped up with a strap I feared would be too big for her. Noticing her fingers between her legs, gently rubbing herself off as she waits. Taking a minute to admire her long nails, how pretty they look against her cunt.

Getting on the bed behind her and taking a shaky breath, taking in how beautiful she is. Lubing up my strap and jerking off above her ass, laughing and threatening to do that instead of put it in. "No, please," she begged, "please.."

I can never say no to her. Not when she's like this.

I press the tip of my cock into her, still nervous it wont fit. But it does. She gasps, and I groan as I feel how warm and wet she is. I start off with slow gentle strokes, but soon I'm rutting into her like an animal, growling in her ear and biting into her shoulder. She cries into a pillow, crying "daddy daddy daddy..." and mewling about how big it is and how full she feels. I wrap an arm around her neck, putting her in a headlock. Putting all my weight on her and thrusting my hips as hard as I can. She screams into the pillow that she's cumming but I don't stop. I'm chasing my own orgasm. Huffing on top of her, feeling as the pressure builds inside myself. Pounding into her as she shakes and whimpers. Collapsing on top of her as I cum, panting into her neck. Laying there for a while, holding hands. Finally getting the energy to pull myself up and slowly pull out, taking the strap off so we can cuddle together.

She lets me stay the night. We take turns spooning each other. It feels so good to be enveloped in her scent.

In the morning she makes me tea and biscuits, talking my ear off about her travels. I love every second of it. By the time I'm in my car, I miss her already.

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