69 With Toji Fushiguro

cw pregnancy mention, gojo has a daughter, minors dni

Satoru has a fussy one-month-old in one arm and a cold bottle of pumped breastmilk in the other. 

It’s the dead of night, somewhere between 2 and 3 am, and it’s been just a little over three hours since you last fed the little bundle of joy, but she’s especially squirmy at this moment, and your husband has swooped in to collect her before she can wake you fully. It’s been a rough past few weeks, especially for you between recovering from a not particularly easy birth and dealing with the expansion of your little family from two to three. Gojo may have wished with every ounce of power that he could make your life easier - if he could have had the baby himself he absolutely would have - but he can only do so much. 

And he does everything he absolutely can. 

Bouncing her gently in his left arm, he sets up the bottle warmer, then leans on the counter to rock your daughter slowly back and forth. He has about six minutes to burn as he waits for the milk to be ready, and considers returning to your bedroom to glance over at you as you sleep. You’d been truly exhausted, loosely clinging to his neck as he moved you from the couch to tuck you into bed, murmuring his name and a sleep-softened word of thanks. It’s a relief so small that he offers you and yet you’re always so grateful, even with your eyes closed and barely conscious.

He loves you so much. 

Your little girl is so tiny in his arms but her weight in his hands is something incredible. She’s quieter now, still bundled warmly, and Gojo holds her with two hands to take her in fully, as he does so often these days. Clear blue eyes mirror his and wisps of white hair peek from under one of the many hats his students knitted for her. Despite the fact that she is his spitting image, he still finds it so hard to believe that she truly belongs to him. 

Him. He is her father. She is his. He is hers.

Her gaze at him is so focused sometimes that it feels almost like a challenge but his heart swells the longer he looks at her. He kisses her forehead then holds her close to his chest.

An alert goes off and he picks up the now warm bottle to test it on the back of his hand, then moves to the living room to feed her. 

His daughter closes her eyes as she drinks but Gojo cannot take his eyes off of her. He hums as she suckles and strokes at her cheek every so often with his thumb. She favors him so much in appearance but he’s constantly searching for you in the baby’s features, and he always finds it. You are her mother after all. 

There’s a saying that men who have a lot to prove are blessed with daughters, and at least in this case, it is proven to be true. He promises with every fiber of his being that he will be so very good to her and of course, to you.

The Best Man's Confession

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: After a two year long affair, Toji can't contain his feelings any longer. What's more ideal than confessing hours before your wedding?

Warnings: Smut, Cheating, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Cream Pie, Angst

You look beyond beautiful in your wedding dress. You’re almost ready to walk down the aisle and get married to the man of your life. A man that gets along with everyone that’s in your life. Your parents, your siblings, your friends; they all adore him. 

“You look beautiful.” You hear a voice that’s too deep and too raspy to be from someone from your bridal party. You forget how to breathe for a second while his hands wrap around your waist. You feel his scar as he presses a gentle kiss on your neck.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Toji.” You speak, hoping that he’ll let go. But he doesn’t. And you don’t plan on pushing him away. He leaves gentle kisses on your neck, and you should stop him, but you don’t want to. “What if someone walks in?”

“No one is going to walk in, trust me.” He responds. He turns you around and cups your face. You push his hands away, causing him to chuckle.

“Don’t ruin my makeup. Two hours of my time went into it.” You tell him, causing him to click his tongue.

“Two wasted hours. You look so much better without it.” He replies, making you roll your eyes. His hands wrap around your waist again. He looks adoringly into your eyes, and you want to look away because this just makes you feel so guilty. He can read you like a book. “You didn’t feel guilty all those nights, why now?”

“I’m getting married in a couple of hours, Toji.” You remind him, but that doesn’t change anything. In his mind, this is over once you sign that legally binding contract. But right now, you’re not married. So it isn’t over.

“Okay? You aren’t married right now though.” He tells you before leaning in. His face is dangerously close to yours. You feel his breathing on your face. Your brain tells you to pull away, slap him and then call your bridal party. But your heart and body won’t budge.

“Toji…” You begin, your voice weak as you say his name. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will. I promise I’ll leave you alone for the rest of my life.” He says, and you’re trying to say the word, but your mouth doesn’t catch up. You can’t tell him to stop, you can just say.

“Toji, he’s your best friend. You can’t do this to him.” You respond. You hope that his conscience will stop him and that he’ll feel guilty for once in his life.

“That hasn’t stopped me. Not the first time, not the second, not the third. It won’t stop me now.” Not a bit of remorse in his voice. “I’ll throw all those years of friendship into the trash for you.”

“Toji…” You don’t understand why your body won’t push him away. His soft lip kiss gently press against yours, and you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling. Instead of pushing him, your hands land on the back of his head and pull him in even more. Your lipstick is getting all over him but that’s the last of your thoughts.

Before the kiss can go any further, he pulls away. He smirks as he looks at the messed up lipstick. “I can make this quick, sweetheart.”

“Make it quick, Toji. I don’t have all day.” You respond. Toji smirks and he looks around, looking for the best possible place. His eyes land on the couch that’s in the room. He takes your hand and leads you there. His hands search for the zipper of your dress, and once he finds it, he pulls it down. He helps you out of the dress, and he puts it to the side. 

You take a seat on the couch and watch as he gets on his knees. He pushes your panties to the side and kisses your clit. He kisses down your cunt before his tongue moves up and down your cunt. His tongue stops at your clit and he flicks it.

He brings his hand up to your face, two fingers pressing against your bottom lip. You take his fingers in your mouth, rolling your tongue around them. When he takes them out, he brings them down and pushes them into your cunt.

He curves his fingers how you like them, while his tongue goes just right. You’re going to miss this, and you can’t believe you’re doing this after you convinced yourself that you’ll be fine without this. You’re ruining your mind and body once again.

But this is even worse for him, and yet he’s doing it without a problem. He for sure knows that he’s going to miss the taste of you on his tongue. It’s such a sweet taste that he’s gotten used to. He loves it so much that he’s betrayed his best friend countless nights for it.

His thick fingers brush against your g-spot, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Anyone can walk in at any moment, but that isn’t what’s in your mind at the moment. Or well, it is, but it doesn’t worry you like you should. The idea excites you.

“It feels so good, Toji.” You moan, biting down on your lip, stopping yourself from moaning loudly. They’re right outside, and they can walk in at any moment. You doubt that Toji locked the door.

Toji wants to smile, but he’s occupied. He begins to suck on your clit while his fingers speed up. He scissors his fingers, making you close your eyes. You hear his hums, indicating that he’s enjoying this. He’s probably enjoying this more than you.

Doing this to the woman he l- “Oh Toji- It’s so.”

He stops sucking on your clit to shush you. The man takes his fingers out and they begin to play with your clit while he inserts his tongue into your cunt. He loves doing that, every chance he gets he does it. And you love it, of course, but you’re sure he loves it even more. 

Your orgasm approaches, and he knows it. He continues doing his job while your thighs squeeze around him. You’ve never done this to him, but he’s loving it. He could nearly cry knowing that he’ll never experience this again, but he’s too focused on what he’s doing.

He takes his tongue out and it goes back to flicking your clit. Your moans get louder and louder as you reach your orgasm. Your hand goes over your mouth to muffle them. You come, your legs shaking.

Toji presses a kiss on your clit before standing up. He takes a seat on the couch beside you. He kisses your lips, his tongue immediately invading your mouth, while he picks you up and puts you down on his lap. His tongue explores your mouth before it presses against yours.

Your hand goes down to unzip his pants. You manage to get his cock out, and your hand strokes it slowly. You feel vibrations from his tongue, a couple of moans coming from him.

You pull away from the kiss, and change your position. You face him with each knee on either side of him. You align his cock with the entrance of your cunt, and slowly lower yourself on him.

He bites his bottom lip as your pussy wraps around him. He’s going to miss this so much. And he’ll think of himself as the biggest fool for getting addicted to you, but also for letting you go. He’s going to miss hearing those tiny moans that come from your lips as you get adjusted to every inch of him.

Once you succeed in taking every inch, you slowly move on his cock. Your mouth parts as you move. The man admires your face, one hand going up to your face to caress it, while the other falls on your hip.

“You feel so good, baby-” He moans, your cunt squeezing around him. He stops caressing your cheek and his hand goes down to play with your clit. He keeps looking at your face, your head thrown back. You always look away from him while having sex. 

He stops looking at your face for a second and he looks at your white lace bra. Then his eyes scan the room, and they fall on your wedding dress. This is supposed to be all for him, not for his best friend. A sudden anger overtakes him.

He begins to move his hips, and your hand moves to cover your mouth to muffle the really loud moans that come from your mouth. His head goes to the back of your head and he pushes it down. His lips land on yours, and you share a sloppy kiss. He pulls away, “Does he fuck you as good as I do?”

The sound of his skin smacking against yours fills up the room. You don’t answer. Your mind is too clouded with the pleasure that he’s giving you to even form a sentence. “Can he compare to me?”

“Toji!” His name slips your mouth, and you quickly cover it. He takes that as his answer. His best friend is going to be your husband, but Toji is the only one that can please you; at least sexually. 

Your second orgasm approaches, your walls squeezing around Toji’s cock. He has to close his eyes as he enjoys it. He’s going to miss this— No, this isn’t going to stop just because you’re getting married. It’ll keep happening, he knows it. You won’t let go so easily. You’ve been sneaking around for two years, why would that stop now?

You close your eyes, reaching your climax. Toji isn’t too far from his release either but he doesn’t want to finish so soon. Once he finishes it’s over, he doubts you’ll do more rounds with him. 

“Fuck, I’m going to miss this.” Toji mutters. You look at him, and how good he looks. He’s so sweaty but so hot. His cheeks are red, and he bites his bottom lip. He looks at you with so much adoration.  You’re too busy admiring him that you don’t pay attention to his sloppy thrusts.

“Pull ou-” You begin but it’s too late. His cum coats your walls. So much cum, like always. And once every drop is in your cunt, he pulls out. Your makeup is all messed up, yet he believes you’re the most beautiful woman to ever breathe on this Earth at this very moment.

He pecks your lips. You’re getting married soon enough to the man that he’s closest with. You’re slipping away and Toji can’t do anything. Unless… 

“Run away with me.” He says, your eyes widening. You get off him and adjust your panties before walking to get your wedding dress. Toji stands up and fixes himself.

He swears his heart breaks as he receives his answer. It’s completely silent as you put your wedding dress back on. His voice breaks as he repeats his words, “Please, run away with me.”

“Toji, is it really worth ruining your friendship with him? Choosing some minutes of pleasure over years of friendship?” You question as you walk back to the mirror to make sure your dress is put on correctly. Toji walks to you.

“I choose our two year relationship over my friendship with him, yes.” He tells you. He stands right behind you, but this time he doesn’t wrap his hands around your waist.

“It’s barely a relationship, Toji.” You maintain your composure. “We just have sex when we’re lonely.”

“I have sex with you because I’m in love with you.” He confesses, making you come to a complete stop. He’s looking at you through the mirror, filled with hope that you’ll leave with him, never turning back. But you don’t look back at him. You take a deep breath.

“You’re going to go out there and…” Your voice is breaking and you have to come to a stop with your words, stopping yourself from crying. “And you’re going to be the best man to your best friend. A man who’s so dearly in love with me.”

“I- Okay…” Toji doesn’t know what to say. He’s also dearly in love with you, but his feelings don’t matter. But he blames himself because he should’ve avoided you after that first night you spent together. He’s been in love with you ever since and he should’ve put a stop to it. You’ve never given him any signs that could’ve hinted you leaving your soon-to-be-husband for him. He gave himself that false hope.

“I love you…” He mutters before leaving the room. 

The moment the door closes, you let out a sob that you’ve been holding back. Tears that you’ve been fighting come out, messing up your makeup even more. But this is the best thing for you. Toji won’t provide you the stability that you’re looking for. Your parents don’t like Toji, neither do your siblings or your friends.

Toji already has his own son to support, he can’t afford to support you or another child. This is what’s best for the both of you.

It hurts. But it’ll only hurt temporarily. You’ll be happy soon enough.

“I love you too, Toji…” You whisper, walking away from the mirror and going to the vanity to fix your makeup. “I’m sorry.”

🏷 @dearsunaa @mykyoon @tojidilfs @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @levismainbabe @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami

babes what we thinking; mean! dad’s bsf! jake when reader is tsu’tey’s daughter? 🙈😵‍💫

him being an asshole while his cock's still sitting inside your tight cunt, ramming in and out of you with a hand slapped over your mouth. tsu'tey is only a few feet away, talking to your mother about how he caught you talking to one of the other boys in the clan.

jake's even more fucking mad now bcs he was the one who found you with the boys and ran over to tell your dad. "you think you're so cute, huh, baby?" his hips are slamming into you, balls slapping up on your ass. he has your face pressed up against the tree with your back arched like a cat, his hands roaming all over your body.

"talkin' to other boys now?" whispering into your ear, "this cock not big enough for you, sweetie?" he asked, pulling your hair back and making you let out a quiet whimper. "n-no, no, jake. please," your nails are scratching into the wood, trying your hardest to stay in place.

"tell me who this pussy belongs to," he's biting at your ear lobe, the tip of his fang digging into the cartilage. "don't make me ask you again." only a cry escaped from your throat, the feeling of his cock brushing over your cervix sending you into a bundle of babbles.

Milk and Cookies

Pairing: DILF!Eren x Reader

Length: 3.4k

CW: some light role play, heavy on the food play, cum eating, fingering, cockwarming, daddy/baby/honey and other pet names used, explicit sex

A/N: A DILF!Eren smut for Christmas. I know from my taglist form more than half of you guys want DILF Eren so give this some love. Also this ones a little…um… just avoid if you don’t wanna read about playing with food…

“Eren, I really don’t get why the outfit is necessary.” You gestured towards his festive choice of clothing, a set of red pants and a red furry top, the edges lined with white fabric reminiscent of the symbol of christmas: Santa Claus. He even wore the goofy red hat, the hat topped off with a white cotton puff ball. He barely gave the outfit any effort, not bothering to wear a shirt underneath nor a fake white wig and beard. He looked less like Santa Claus and more like a holiday-themed male exotic dancer, but that was beside the point. The real question was why.

He opened the closet door, rummaging through the back of the closet to pull out the gifts you’d wrapped and hidden away, to shield from the prying eyes of your son and daughter.

“‘Cause if they wake up right now and see their mom and dad putting gifts under the tree they’ll be traumatized,” Eren said, his voice muffled as he spoke from inside the closet. He pulled out a few boxes and one by one set them outside of the closet door. You helped him arrange them neatly into an organized stack. “At least at first glance we can pass for Santa. And I don’t wanna be responsible for crushing their hopes and dreams. At least not yet, anyway,” he ended with a chuckle.

“But doesn’t Santa go alone? Why’d I have to dress up too?” You looked down to your ‘Mrs. Claus’ outfit, a red and white long sleeved top with way too much cleavage paired with a short red skirt. It was most definitely not the attire of Mrs. Claus and it made you roll your eyes when Eren suggested it.

“That was more for me,” he gave you a wink, before bending down to pick up the stack of boxes to set under the christmas tree. After he set the boxes down he turned around, his intention being to grab the last box he’d left behind, but when his eyes flickered to you he smirked.

“You done staring at me yet, princess? I could use some help.” He’d caught you staring at him – how could you not when his abs were right there? Sometimes you’d forget that your husband was built like a Greek god, but at times like these, when he was barely dressed on purpose to rile you up, his sculpted chest was always there to remind you of that fact.

Two could play at the teasing. You turned to bend down and pick up the box, exaggerating your movements so your skirt would ride up, teasing him with a glance at your panties. Before you could even stand up straight, box in your arms, Eren was behind you, his arms coming around to lift the box out of your arms and over your head, as his chest pressed against your back. He asked, his voice hushed, “The kids are right down the hall, you sure you wanna wake them up?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked innocently, though by the tone of his voice you already knew the answer.

He brought the box down into the crook of his arm and used his free hand to pinch your thigh. “You’re so cruel, been teasing me all day long.”

He wasn’t wrong – in a way you were. This morning when you made yourself a latte, you stared at him with bedroom eyes as you licked the foam away from your lips. And earlier today when you and the kids were baking cookies, you’d taken a finger-full of frosting and sucked on it, just a little too enthusiastically for it to be innocent. You’d been sending him signals all day, and now with the kids put to bed Eren was ready to take you up on your silent offers. But not without a taste of the silent torture you put him through today.

He dropped off the last box under the tree before taking a seat on the sofa, next to the table where you’d placed Santa's milk and cookies not too long ago before you put the kids to bed.

“Come sit on Santa's lap, naughty girl,” he teased as he patted his thigh, his eyes taking you in as you made your way over to him. They hungirly traversed your body, down your chest and back up your bare legs. Despite your best attempts at teasing, when it came down to it your confidence would always waiver. Eren always had that effect on you – to turn you into a flustered heap of goo, your legs wobbly, your voice shaky. But today you’d try your best not to be his prey.

You straddled your husband, the fabric of your lace panties flush against his red pants. Even through the fabric you could feel his arousal. His hands gripped your waist on either side as he placed a kiss to your chest, right above your cleavage. You rested your hands on the sides of his muscular chest.

“I was so right about this outfit,” he murmured against your chest, his lips brushing your skin.

“How so?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his face even closer to you.

“It makes your tits look incredible,” he said, his voice muffled as he spoke, before licking a stripe up the valley between your breasts. The contact made you shiver with anticipation.

He then kissed your neck, slow open mouth kisses that threatened to eat you up, as his hands came down to firmly grasp your ass beneath the red skirt.

When he finally reached the place he loved to kiss most, your lips, his kiss was rough and needy, nipping at your lips and full of tongue. He swallowed every moan that he pulled out of your body. Then Eren brushed a finger over your clothed cunt, the fabric practically drenched with your slick.

“Eren stop teasing me,” you whined, your voice low in his ear, as a thumb pressed on your clit over the fabric. He rubbed it in a slow circle, amusement clear in his viridian eyes.

“Mm, but you’ve been teasing me all day baby, it’s only fair,” his finger hooked onto the edge of your panties, setting the fabric aside, exposing your dripping cunt to him. His finger swiped up and down your folds, causing you to shudder on his lap.

“Don’t you think–” you paused to catch a breath, his thumb once again assaulting your clit in dangerously slow but firm circles. “ –maybe we should move to the, ah, bedroom?”

“But then who’s gonna eat all these cookies?” Eren picked up a cookie from the platter on the table, bringing the treat up to his mouth. You groaned as you were faced with a double assault — with one hand, Eren was licking the frosting off one of the sugar cookies, while the other continued to tease your clit, mirth dancing across his features as he teased you.

“Eren—“ his name came out as a moan as he stuffed a long finger inside you. He didn’t even break eye contact, purple frosting coating his sinful tongue as he watched you squirm.

“Try some, baby,” his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, leaving remnants of frosting in its wake. Your hips involuntarily grinded down on him as he fingered you at a languid pace, not nearly fast enough for what you craved.

“Please, Eren,” He could feel your walls clenching around his finger, but he wasn’t anywhere near satisfied, not yet.

“Please, what?” He blinked at you innocently as he brought the cookie into his mouth past his lips. He bit down and ate half, holding the other half in the air in front of your mouth. You could barely form words between his fingers brushing against your spongy walls and the way he teased you with the frosted cookie. “My lovely wife forgot how to speak tonight, hm?”

“I want you inside me,” you breathed out.

“I already am,” as if to make a point he pulled his finger out to the first knuckle before stuffing it back in.

You reached a hand down, looping a finger underneath the waistband of his pants, “you know what I meant,” you huffed, suppressing another moan. He slipped a second finger inside, then finished off the cookie in his other hand, making sure to suck off the frosting off the tips of his fingers. He felt your body stiffen at the sight.

His two fingers curled up against the spot he knew so well inside you.

“Eren!” You cried out his name as his fingers moved exactly the way he’d made you come undone so many times before.

“You gotta be a little more quiet, honey,” he chuckled, though his fingers showed no sign of stopping. You wanted to last longer, feeling pathetic that with just two fingers Eren could make you come undone, but he easily did just that. You felt that familiar feeling in your center, the high that you craved so badly, and Eren knew it was coming from the silent moans that escaped your parted lips in the form of heavy breaths. He watched in awe, a thumb coming up to rub against your clit to help you reach your peak, as he licked the traces of frosting off his lips.

“Fuck, Eren,” you tried your best to keep your voice low as you threw your head back, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Eren slowed down the movement of his fingers to a stop once he saw you were done, before pulling his fingers up to his lips. They were soaked with your essence and you watched as he lapped it up like a starved man downs a bottle of water, shooting you a cheeky grin.

“Can’t tell what’s sweeter, you or these cookies,” he said, his eyes trained on your hands as they came down to his waistband again. You tugged at the fabric, silently pleading at your husband with your eyes and a pout. He couldn’t help but smile, your want for him making his heart burst with affection. So many years together yet he’d still feel that feeling in his heart every time, the one where he couldn’t believe you wanted him in this way.

You moved back slightly, sitting on his knees. He lifted his hips slightly off the couch, just enough for you to pull down the fabric of his red pants and boxers to his mid thigh, freeing him from the confines of his clothing. His cock sprung free, the tip wet with his arousal. He watched with lidded eyes, biting his sugar-coated lips, as your hand moved up and down his shaft.

Eren stifled a groan. “Sit on Santa’s lap, baby.”

“Please stop calling yourself Santa, it’s weird,” you chuckled.

“Okay, how about sit on daddy’s lap?”

You could feel yourself clench around nothing, the way the word daddy came off his tongue sent shivers up your spine. You crawled up the short distance from his knees to his hips, your hands coming up to his shoulders, bunching up the red fabric as you gripped onto him for support. With his hands supporting your hips, you sunk down onto him, a sigh of pleasure leaving your parted lips. Before you could move your hips up, his hands on your hips firmly pushed you down, and he leaned in to give you a kiss.

“Not yet, baby,” he said as one hand let go of your hips to reach for another frosted cookie, “How about we finish these off first, hm?”

How could he even sit there so composed with his cock stuffing you so full? You were so frustrated, you just wanted to move. And he couldn't help but grin at your obvious predicament.

“Eren, baby, can we please go to the bedroom?” you tried your best to make your voice firm despite speaking in a hushed voice. He only chuckled.

“You spent the whole day teasing me like this,” he took his index finger and swiped down the center of a frosted cookie, picking up a hearty glob of frosting, before taking the frosting and drawing a stripe down his tongue. He made a show of sucking off his finger, his smoldering eyes meeting your heated gaze. “At least let me have a little fun.”

Before you could say anything else, he repeated the motion of picking up some frosting on his fingers – but this time instead of his tongue, his finger drew a line of frosting down the valley of your breasts. Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands came up to your shoulders and pulled down your top slightly. He felt your walls clench around him as he dipped his head down to suck off the sweet cream from your skin. Then he pulled down your top further down your arms until your breasts were exposed to him. Like an artist painting a canvas, he smirked as he covered your nipple with frosting.

“Eren, fuck can you, mmm, please–” you wanted to beg for him to stop, the teasing going way further than you imagined it would. His tongue swirled around your perked nipple, lapping off the saccharine cream, before he sucked at it, taking the last of the frosting into his mouth.

He took his fingers that were covered in frosting and tapped them onto your lips, a signal to open them. When you did, he placed his fingers onto your tongue. “Shhh, don’t wanna wake the kids do you?”

You shook your head no, before closing your lips around his fingers and sucking off the remaining frosting. You could feel his cock twitch inside you. He rutted his hips up, causing you to moan, though your mouth was closed around his fingers still. He brought the cookie to his lips, eating half, then he removed his fingers from your mouth and gave you the other half. They were soft and sweet, absolutely delicious. Even with most of the frosting removed.

Eren reached over for the glass of milk, taking a sip, watching in amusement as your patience was wearing down. There was one thing you could do, you realized as you watched him drink the white liquid.

You took the glass from out of his hand and took a sip, purposefully spilling a few drops from the corners of your lips. Immediately the imagery of white liquid on your lips brought his mind to not-so-innocent places, and you felt him stir below you. You stuck your tongue out, a faint white sheen coating your otherwise pink tongue, to lap up the drops of milk. You made sure to gaze at him the entire time, his mouth parted in surprise as he watched you.

This teasing was becoming too much, even for him.

“Fuck, hold on,” he tapped your thigh, his willpower gone. There was only so long he could take with you on his lap like that, in that sinful holiday outfit, drops of what could have been his essence trailing down your lips. You rose off his lap and he immediately moved up so that he was behind you, your body pressed down into the couch. In no time at all he slammed back into you, his hands gripping your hips so hard you’d probably wake up with bruises. But it didn’t matter, because all you could think of was how badly you wanted him.

“Please, daddy,” you begged, your head turned behind you to get a look at him. If you weren’t so turned on you’d almost laugh at his head-to-toe Santa get-up. But honestly he looked incredible even in an outfit as ridiculous as that one. His abs, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, glistened in the soft lights of the living room. His eyes were a deep muted green, sultry and full of his passion. His hands were so warm on your hips, somehow still sending tingles up your spine after all this time.

“Tell me what you want, angel,” he rocked his hips just once, enough to kiss your cervix, before dragging back out.

“I want you to fuck me,” you asked, pushing your hips back up against him.

A hand came off your hip to squeeze the meat of your ass. He leaned down to your ear, “Yeah? Daddy 'll fuck you real good. Just keep quiet, sweetheart.”

He bunched up the fabric of your top and skirt around your waist, the sight of the red and white fabric making your actions almost even more sinful — to be fucking while dressed like mr. and mrs. Claus was not something he ever expected to do. But fuck if it wasn’t turning him on.

He pulled back before snapping his hips into you, the force pushing you further into the couch. You bit your lip and he repeated the motions over and over, his cock stretching you open and dragging along your tight walls. He watched as you took him in over and over, whispers of expletives tumbling out of his lips.

Normally Eren was quite vocal during sex, but tonight it was all muffled grunts and silent groans, a true effort to keep quiet. But you were another story.

His thrusts were becoming relentless, and when he reached the spot that had you seeing stars you sobbed.

“Shit, Eren, right there—yes,” you were so lost in it you didn’t realize the volume of your voice was increasing with every word.

He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, his fingers hooking into your mouth again.

“Naughty girl, what did I say?” He spoke into your ear again, his breath hot and his voice low, breathless due to his exertion.

“Ta thee quifettt,” you tried to speak but his fingers held your tongue down.

“Good girl,” he sighed in approval as he continued to slam his cock into you, “so so good, take me so perfectly baby,” his voice was soft in your ear still, his hands coming back down to cover the back of yours, his long fingers occupying the gaps between yours. He felt you clenching tight around him, your body sinking further into the couch. You were close.

“‘Ren I’m gonna—Fuck—I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered below him. You felt him plant a kiss on your shoulder.

“Then do it. Cum on me, baby,” he bit down on your shoulder to suppress a groan as his thrusts were deep, reaching a spot in you that would have had you screaming if you weren’t 10 feet away from your sleeping children.

To help you reach your peak Eren pressed a finger against your clit, teasing circles around the bud. You were a goner after that, your orgasm coming quickly as you cried out his name.

Eren was close behind thanks to the way you clenched so tightly around him.

Suddenly Eren had an idea.

“Can I cum on your mouth?” He asked, his thrusts slowing down as you descended from your high.

“Anywhere you want,” you were too fucked out to care.

He pulled out, gesturing for you to sit up on the couch as he stood up before you. You stuck out your tongue and he brought the head of his sensitive dick to your mouth. He was on the edge already, his hand pumping his shaft as you licked at his tip, coated with your previous release. With a few strokes he came, a guttural moan coming out of his mouth from the back of his throat. His cum shot out into your mouth, some of it dribbling down the sides and over your chin. He watched as you stuck out your tongue to lap up whatever you didn’t swallow.

However there was still some left around your mouth. Eren swiped it up with his fingers, before reaching over for another cookie. You watched, a mixture of surprise and (to your own surprise?) arousal, as he mixed his seed with the frosting on the tips of his fingers. He stuck his fingers into your mouth and you sucked them clean.

“Eren, you’re so ridiculous,” you finally said after lapping up the last of his salty cum and the sweet frosting.

He chuckled, landing a quick kiss to your purple-stained lips, “what, you don’t like a little milk with your cookies?”

Eren Jaeger Taglist: @mtyobr @leauleo @missyasma @luda-mlada @songbirdgardensworld @stressed-reader @erispancakes @suikrem @chocoboba @coyloves @mikasavqx @ackermanskata @shujisslut @erentoes @psaikichic @j0livi0ni @jaegerxbhg @fay @leeviiieee @kipani-snow-25 @didiyogo @itsjuliee @half-baked-biscuit @tdntu0 @prblmtic @ficsforeren @littlemochi @lucifershija @deesnuts2

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N-need more … zhongli and chubby goddess reader .. or I’ll collapse

*catches you as you’re falling* fret not, anon… you’ve come to the right person for all things Squish related….

fem + chubby reader, an unofficial but totally official continuation to my rex lapis x chubby archon reader from the other day, body worship, and thighfucking below!

rex lapis who summons his darling little goddess of fertility wife with a simple call of your name— after he was gracious enough to take you in and grant you his protection, you quickly decided that being at his beck and call was in your best interest. who would you be to fight him, deny him, or stall him when he awarded you more kindness and graciousness than he’s ever awarded anyone else? when he calls for you, you answer, and now is no different.

you enter the room with a clumsy curtsy, folding your hands in front of you as he flips through a stack of papers. “my beloved,” he says simply, deep amber eyes leaving the contract he’s proofreading and gazing up at you. “come closer.”

“are you coming to bed soon?” you ask sweetly, trying to tread lightly so you don’t accidentally ask any invasive questions about his work. it’s none of your business— you’re not the god of contracts.

he only shakes his head, sighing and setting his papers down. “not anytime within the hour, i’m afraid. there’s much to be done before i meet with that troublesome archon of war tomorrow afternoon.”

you can’t hide your disappointment. you were hoping he’d resign himself to bed early for once so you could invite him to snuggle and hopefully then some. he works so hard— you’d like to take care of your husband even if he’s not generally the affectionate type.

and how he’d like to leave his paperwork for the night and fill his palms with something a little softer and sweeter than the stained, tattered cloth of ancient scrolls and contracts. how he’d like to indulge in the soft, comforting warmth only his wife is able to provide— rex lapis is inclined to believe that you’re hoping to tempt him into bed with the way you’re dressed. how sweet— his demure, flustered little wife wants to rile him up.

your nightgown is sheer enough to easily make out the outline of your areolas through the fabric and tiny enough to catch where it clings to your ample waist and soft belly— is there anything more erotic than seeing the gentle curve of your plump belly visible in your tight pajamas and sheer gowns? he doesn’t believe so.

answering his prior request, you make your way over to his desk. the candlelight coming from his workspace illuminates your body nicely— your husband really can make out the outline of your soft tits through the sheer silk of your nightgown.

“and is this your way of inviting me to bed?” he asks, expression completely neutral. oh, archons— is he going to mock you for such a pitiful attempt? scold you for attempting to interrupt his work? dismiss you with a disappointed sigh and a flick of his wrist? your husband is by no means cruel, but he does tend to be… cold.

“i thought that— it’s not… it’s not like that, i was just… getting comfortable,” you answer in a tiny voice, fiddling with the hem of your nightgown and tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth. “is it… no good?”

rex lapis replaces his quill pen in its dish of ink and sets it aside. “apologies, i didn’t mean it like that. it looks lovely on you, truly.”

“thank you, my love.”

rex lapis swallows hard— how do you always manage to be so sweet? how have you lived so many centuries untouched by the sin, wrath, and war every other god hasn’t been able to escape? how do you always manage to chip at his cold exterior?

“come here a moment,” he murmurs, hands settling on your soft waist. the way your body easily gives beneath his hands and allows him to get a good grip on you does more to him than he’d ever admit. soft and easily manipulated like bread dough, warm like a quilt left to dry in the sunlight all day, and more comforting than any of teyvat’s finest luxuries. you allow him to tug you into his lap, your arms shakily wrapping around his shoulders to better balance yourself on his thighs.

“this truly does look lovely on you. shall we go to the harbor tomorrow and purchase more silk to craft you a few more?” rex lapis offers, one of his dark, dully glowing hands sliding up the apex of one of your plump thighs. “perhaps paired with a necklace carved from cor lapis as well.”

his other hand gently maps the curve of your neck and your shoulder, relishing in the way you shiver and breathe his name quietly. you say nothing as he continues to trace your body like he’s drafting a map of liyue, his fingers dipping into the valley of your cleavage before retreating and drawing over the plump swells of your breasts.

“beautiful,” he murmurs contently, resting his face in the crook of your neck. “not a thing in all of teyvat could ever provide a man, mortal or immortal, with the same comfort and security his wife can.”

a hand grabbing at the soft tuft of your lower belly makes you shiver against his thighs, inadvertently rutting yourself against his leg as he gropes a generous handful of your tummy.

“lovely indeed,” he says matter-of-factly, as if he’s confirming a theory. “this softness serves as its own testament to a life of comfort, luxury, and generosity. my hands have long since worn down to callouses and bone from never-ending war and, as i’m sure you’ve noticed, my body is lined with a electric storm of scars after having sustained so many injuries. but you…”

your husband cups the plump heft of your belly in one of his broad palms, soft and undeniably warm against his skin as he massages your tummy with determination. “but you, my dearest… you stand for all the things i’ve fought for all this time. safety, comfort, and prosperity. a body this lovely is no greater proof of that.”

rex lapis cups your waist once more and gently drags you against one of his muscled thighs, sighing in delight in response to your surprised and pleasured moans. oh, he’d just love to eat you up.

“please allow me to continue worshipping your body as any man ought to worship his beloved, my love.”

UH OH, HE’S A DILF — #TOJI FUSHIGURO

FEM! READER X TOJI FUSHIGURO

a series of writing where in toji is that dilf.

reply or pm to be part of the taglist !!!

didn’t think i’ll make this a series but i think i have to now, i enjoy this so much <3

[soon] DILF IN AMUSEMENT! — #FIRST MEETING

the first time you met toji fushiguro.

DILF IN QUESTION! — #TOJI’S SECRET

you learn toji’s rightful secret.

DILF IN TROUBLE! — #TOJI’S WORK WIFE

you learn about toji’s work wife.

[soon] DILF IN JEALOUSY! — #COLLEGE BOYS

toji fushiguro hates those dumb college boys who can’t leave his pretty baby alone.

[soon] DILF IN LOVE! — #EX WIFE

you meet toji’s ex wife.

— I GOT SWEET TASTE FOR MEN WHO ARE OLDER, IT’S ALWAYS BEEN SO, IT’S NO SURPRISE.

I’ve decided to answer this here because I wrote way too fucking much.

Length: 5.8k

CW: Age-gap, forbidden relationship, power imbalance, degradation, daddy kink, dacryphilia, humiliation, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism

A/N: they literally don’t even kiss till 4k in fuck me. I can’t write a pr0n without plot if i even wanted to.

You were moving back home from university for the summer, your small sedan packed to the ceiling with boxes full of your belongings. With your A/C in the car broken, you had the windows of the passenger seats all the way down, the wind blowing in to cool off the sweat dripping down your skin. It was so uncomfortable, your bare legs sticking together while you drove, your tank top drenched with sweat. You cursed the fact that you were too broke to get the car fixed. It was impossible trying to get it fixed back in your college town, where the mechanics were running a freaking mafia ring with the prices they charged students; there was no way you could afford it.

Luckily for you, your father’s best friend Eren was quite good with cars.

When you arrived back home on a late Saturday afternoon, you parked into the empty space on the right side of the driveway. The space to the left, in front of the open garage, was occupied by Eren’s car, a familiar red classic car that he built piece-by-piece as a hobby over the years. You glanced at it briefly as you exited the car, making a mental note to yourself with a sly smile on your face that Eren must be here. For a moment you stood next to the passenger door after you closed it, fixing up your clothes in the side view mirror: pulling up your shorts so they hugged the curve of your ass. Pushing up your bra under your tank top just a little more. Pulling the neckline of your tank top a little lower for some more cleavage – you know, nothing too conspicuous.

You looked up at your house, noticing your father’s car in the open garage. The hood was up, and your father was inside the driver’s seat, fumbling with the dash and muttering curse words at the steering wheel. Below the car, a pair of dark jeans adorning long legs, punctuated with a pair of worn-out sneakers. You couldn’t see who it was, with only the legs poking out from beneath the hood of the car, but you had a good feeling it was the man who was always sticking around to help out your dad: Eren Jaeger.

Your dad didn’t see you when you walked up to the hood of the car. With the hood open, you were obscured from your father’s view. Eren was working on something underneath the car, who knows what, when he heard the tapping of footsteps approaching. He lifted his head, just slightly, but he could only see calves and a pair of sneakers. But his best friend only had one child, his wife long passed, so those feminine legs could only belong to one person: you.

He dropped his wrench and slid out from under the car, his back on one of those boards with wheels. When he slid out he saw you standing there, staring back at him with a smile. From his angle, he got a nice view of your long legs and the underside of your tits. Nice.

“Hey,” he greeted you with your name, the sound of it always coming out sweet like honey, those green eyes sparkling even in the shadow that you cast onto him as you blocked the sun with your body. “Back from school?”

“Yeah, home sweet home.” Your eyes held his gaze for a moment before they dared to travel lower. With the sweltering heat, of course he was shirtless, abs rippling with his movements, his chiseled arms covered in sweat and motor oils. Of course, even with him in his 30s, he’d have a toned body that your classmates would be jealous of. Of course those jeans of his would sit low on his hips, your eyes hitching on that delectable happy trail of his. Of fucking course your dad’s friend was still too hot for you to function. Sometimes you hoped you’d come back from university and you’d come back to him finally looking his age. But that hasn’t happened yet, and doesn’t seem like it will, either.

Oh and of course Eren would catch you staring every single time. Not that he minded. He only smiled in silent acknowledgement of you undressing him with your eyes. And then it was his turn to undress you with his eyes because, frankly, the tiny amount of clothes you wore today needed to be appreciated.

Your father’s voice calling your name suddenly thundered in the otherwise silent garage, cutting short whatever the hell you two were doing with those bedroom eyes. You tore your gaze away from Eren to look up at your father, who had climbed out of the driver’s seat and come over to you for a hug.

“I missed you, honey,” he said, embracing you tightly. Your face was smooshed against his sweaty t-shirt. He smelled of booze. Must have been drinking.

“Dad, gross. You’re sweaty,” you protested, wedging your palms between your bodies and using them to push him away. He laughed, and when you pushed him away you noticed a beer can in his hand.

“That any way to greet your old man? Oh, and Eren’s here,” he gestured with his beer can to Eren, as if he didn’t realize you could see Eren as clear as day on the floor. You dad was a bit clueless most of the time, never catching onto the unspoken thing going on between his best friend and his daughter. Or maybe he was drunk, you thought, looking over at the number of empty cans on the ground by the car.

“Yeah I saw, dad,” you turned to Eren, “How’s it going Mr. Jaeger?”

Eren rolled his eyes, shooting you a look. “It’s Eren.”

“Right,” you said with a teasing grin.

Your father piped up, his speech just slightly slurred, “My car’s dead right now, Eren came over to check it out. How’s it look, Eren?”

Eren piped up from his spot on the ground, “Not good. We’re gonna have to order a part for it, so it might be out of commission for a few days.”

Your father turned towards you, “I might need to borrow your car to get to w-work.” He hiccuped when he croaked out the word work.

“Aw come on, dad,” you complained, “But I was going to meet up with my old friends from high school on monday.”

Eren quickly said, “I can give you a ride, if you want. I’m off Monday.”

Your eyes flickered down towards him, a look filled with a thousand words in his eyes. Was he suggesting something?

Your father said, “See! It works out!” He was talking a bit too loudly for you standing right before him, but okay. He’s definitely drunk.

You sighed, “Okay. But the A/C’s broken.”

Eren got up, pushing off the rolling board, and stood next to you. He grabbed a nearby towel and wiped down his hands, turning the towel a darker color with the stains of motor oil. “I can fix that, show me.”

Your father, wiping the sweat from his brow, said “I’m gonna head inside and get a drink. It’s so damn hot outside. Have Eren check on the A/C for you.”

“Okay, dad.”

You knew your dad was a sleepy drunk. You figured he was probably going to go lay down on the couch and knock out. He walked to the door in the back of the garage. You and Eren watched as he turned the door knob and then headed inside. Once your dad was out of sight, Eren took a step closer to you, close enough to have you leaning over the exposed hood of your father’s car.

“Wanna show me?” He asked, wedging a leg between your thighs as you were pressed against the hood of the car.

For a second your mind blanked out, not sure exactly what he was referring to. He chuckled.

“The A/C, sweetheart.” He said, brushing the back of his hand up your thigh, before pulling away and sauntering over to the car. You blinked back, dazed, eyes trained on the muscles of his broad back, following him the short distance to your car.

“Yeah, the A/C’s broken,” you said, stepping in front of him. You opened the driver’s seat door, and he stood closely behind you as you bent down at the waist to insert the key into the ignition. With you bent over and him behind you, this position was less than ideal and it was giving Eren thoughts. For a second he pondered tossing you into his car and taking you right then. But he practiced some self-restraint.

You turned on the car and played with the A/C dials. As you were bent over, your torso inside of the car, your legs standing straight, you felt his hand brush over your ass. It stayed there, fingers touching where your shorts ended and your asscheeks began.

He’s getting bold, you thought to yourself. Eren was always one to share teasing looks and the occasional touch. But he’d never let his touch linger. What was different about today?

Eren’s friendship with your father started a couple of years ago, your dad starting at a new job while you were away freshman year, and Eren being a coworker that he came to befriend. They grew very close immediately, bonding over practically anything: music, sports, other boring shit that you didn’t care about. You never cared at all about your dad’s friends, to be honest. At least, not until you met Eren in person.

That first summer that you came home from school was when your father had introduced him to you. You were home one day, lounging around in a t-shirt and shorts (no bra because who wears a bra at home?), when you made your way downstairs to grab a snack from the fridge. But you couldn’t even make it all the way down the stairs, because the sight at the bottom nearly paralyzed you.

You never expected your father’s friend to be so hot.

He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, having just walked in the front door and chatting with your father, when he heard your footsteps coming down. Before you could see him, he saw you and your silky smooth pair of legs, his eyes trailing upwards until he caught a glimpse of your face. He’d told himself that, no, he did not notice the way your breasts bounced beneath your t-shirt as you went down the stairs. Nope. No he didn’t. Okay, maybe he did.

You were looking down at your feet as you made your way down the steps, only stopping at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, paired with the sight of an unfamiliar man. When you two locked eyes, it was like time froze.

Quickly your father said, “Honey, this is one of my friends from work. Eren Jaeger.”

He then turned to Eren, “This is my daughter I told you about.”

Eren was quick to recuperate, waving a hand as greeting, thinking to himself that, fuck, he expected some kind of snot-nosed brat, maybe a school-aged kid. Not some 20-year-old who looked like that.

You waved back, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jaeger.”

“Call me Eren,” he corrected you, once you made it down to the bottom of the stairs.

“Okay, Eren.” You smiled as you stuck a hand out for him to shake it.

And with the sight of your smile, he was a goner.

Eren was not very good at resisting temptations.

Temptations came in all forms: wasting money on more parts for his classic car; eating too many scoops of ice cream on a friday night; having one too many beers at the bar with his friends. But the worst one was you.

See, the more time you spent around your dad’s best friend, the more you noticed the looks. It was only looks, at first. But you, someone who was admittedly a bit of a spoiled daddy’s girl, you were not used to being told no. There weren’t things that you wanted that you couldn’t have – Eren being one of them, of course. So when Eren would look, you would look back. At first Eren was shocked, that when his eyes would start down at your thighs, his gaze would meet yours once it reached your face. He knew that you knew that he was checking you out. And you knew that he knew when you would check him out. It became a game, almost. Who could stare at who while your dad didn’t notice. Eren tried to resist this game, him being the older one here, he should have known better.

But like we said, he’s not very good at resisting temptations. Especially in the form of a sexy girl going to a spring break party.

You were such a tease, though you weren’t trying to be. A saturday night with your dad and his friends drinking beers in the living room, as they screamed and shouted at the sports game on the tv – that was a normal occurrence in the house. What wasn’t normal was the fact that you were going out that night. The drunk men gathered around the TV paid you no mind as you walked down the stairs, a tiny figure-hugging dress adorned on your body. Well, except for Eren. He definitely paid you mind. His eyes, locked-on like a cat with a laser pointer, watched as you made your way down and turned into the kitchen. By some kind of impulse, maybe liquid courage, he shot up and followed you. He tried to stand there casually as you opened the fridge to take out a bottle of soda, palming his sweaty hands against his jeans.

“Going out tonight?” He asked, eyes trained on your figure as you paid attention to the glass on the counter, pouring your soda.

“Yeah, meeting up with some friends. Why?” You turned to face him, and his eyes immediately dropped to your cleavage. God he was terrible at this. You resisted the urge to laugh.

“You wouldn’t be meeting up with guys would you?” Eren asked, a teasing sound to his voice. You giggled and it immediately brought a smile to his face.

“What, did my dad tell you to ask me that?” You laughed, opening the fridge once more to put the soda back in. You bent over to put the soda on a bottom shelf, and Eren scooted closer. His mouth was practically watering, with you bent over like that… he wondered what you would feel like. He just wanted to know. Maybe a light touch, and he’d find out. Just one touch, he told himself.

He came up behind you, just the lightest brush of his palm against your ass, before he parked his hand at the small of your back. You were about to close the fridge, but his free hand came around to yank it open wider.

“Just wondering, ‘is all. I’m gonna grab a beer, ‘scuse me.”

For a moment you froze, your eyes tilting up towards the brunette while he reached into the fridge and grabbed a bottle. Then he removed his hand, taking a step back and closing the fridge.

“I mean… there might be guys there,” you said, looking up at him from behind your long fake lashes, “are you gonna tell my daddy?”

Daddy… he gulped. Why’d you have to say it like that?

“I—“

You cut him off by placing a manicured hand on his forearm, rubbing your palm down his arm. Your long nails just slightly dragged over his skin. His breath caught in his throat at your touch.

“I told him it’s just a party with my friends. I’ll be a good girl, don’t you worry about it Eren.”

He stood there gaping, stuttering his lips open and closed like a fish, while you moved to drink your soda, eyes trained on his face as you lifted the glass. His eyes moved to the red lipstick stain on the rim when you pulled away and placed the glass down on the counter. You stood before him, tilting your head and batting your eyelashes.

“You won’t tell him, right? It’ll be our little secret.” He felt your finger tap his chest, keeping it there as you stared up at him with a wink. He wrapped his hand around your finger. The other hand dropped back down, just lightly brushing the fabric of your dress at your waist.

“Yeah. Our secret,” he agreed, his voice low as his eyes searched yours. The tension was ridiculous. You were no longer talking about this silly party, the way your hands both just lightly touched what they couldn’t have. The grip around your finger tightened, “By the way?”

“Yeah?”

He leaned down, lowering his voice further, so hushed that you could barely hear him over the loud sports game in the other room. “You look good.”

You saw his emerald eyes look down towards your cleavage and back up to your face, before letting go of your hand and turning away, picking up the cold beer on the counter. You swung back the last sip of your soda, setting the glass back down on the counter. Before you left the room, you took one last look at Eren. He was still staring at you, a predatory look in those snake eyes of his as he leaned against the wall.

As you passed him on the way out of the room, you said to him, low enough for only his ears. “You look good too.”

Resistance was futile.

That one night started many many more exchanges like those, as if the dam holding you both back broke that night. A brush of his hand against your chest, perhaps a hand at your waist, even escalating to suggestive words — even the sight of him would make your heart race. But you waited, patiently. You wouldn’t be the one to make a move, you enjoyed being chased.

And Eren was enjoying the chase. You both knew what was happening here. The only fool here was your father — oblivious to the way his best friend was one word away from snapping and fucking his daughter dumb. Eren found himself looking forward to the times you were home from university, making excuses to come over to your home. He was lucky he was quite the handyman.

Today was one such excuse — he knew from talking to your father at work that he’d been having car troubles. And he also knew that you were coming home today, your father beaming about it at work. So why not kill two birds with one stone? He knew your father would fall asleep after having one too many beers – he’d done it almost every time the boys would get together for a game. Your father made it too easy for him.

Suddenly Eren’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You were still bent forward into the car, doing nothing but staring blankly in front of you.

“Hey, why don’t you let me take a look?” He asked, his hand now gracing the back of your thigh, his body leaning over yours. He was so close the back of your legs were brushing against the fabric of his jeans.

“Okay.” You said, moving back out of the car. The action of you moving back brought your hips flush to the man behind you, and on instinct his two hands were at your hips. He briefly held you like that, your hips pressed against his crotch with you bent over, and with a gasp you realized you could feel the cause of the tent in his jeans. You rose quickly, your left hand holding onto the car door for support, and he removed his hands from your body as quickly as he had placed them there in the first place.

He sat down in the passenger seat without a word, a hand up to the air vents to feel for any sign of cold air: nothing. He then bent down and reached for the lever to open the hood of your car. You stood next to him, watching his movements. After pulling the lever and getting your hood open, he turned towards you, looking up at you expectantly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“I kinda need to get out and you’re standing in the way. Unless you’re trying to crawl in here with me?”

He said it with a laugh. He was joking, at least he meant for it to sound like he was joking. You looked down at his chest, still shirtless and glistening with sweat. You forced yourself not to look lower where you knew his pants would be, um… still quite tight.

“Is that an invitation, Mr. Jaeger?”

For a moment you both just stared. Who would move first? Who would speak first? It felt like neither of you moved even a hair, your question hanging there unanswered.

He stared, taking in your features: your hair thrown up in a high ponytail, wisps of hair out because you’d been driving for hours with the window open. Just the slightest bit of sweat on your brow because of the heat. Your eyes, full of determination, so clear in the shining summer sun, challenging him, daring him to say yes. Those lips, pretty, plump, and twisted up in a teasing smirk. This was the bluntest you’ve ever been with him. Perhaps you were at the end of your rope like he was.

And you stared, taking in all the features of his face: his messy mop of brown hair, ruffled because he was working under your dad’s car, tied into what started out as a bun on the back of his head, now half a bun with locks of hair falling out and framing his face. Those thick brown eyebrows, higher on his forehead due to his surprise at your daring question. His plump lips, wet because his tongue just darted out to lick them over as he contemplated his answer. And of course, those stupid pretty eyes of his, searching yours for any hints of doubt. He knew from the years of build up to this moment that there wouldn't be. But still, consent was crucial.

“Do you want it to be?”

You finally gave him that one word: the one that, as we said, was going to make him snap and fuck you dumb.

“Yes.”

What happened after that was a blur. Who kissed who first? You couldn’t say even if a gun was held to your head, but that kiss was fucking incredible. Perhaps years of waiting was worth it, because no one had ever kissed you like that. A kiss so hot and heavy, his hand on the back of your neck, pulling into him. You felt like you were falling into a fucking abyss, the way he stole your breath and every moan that followed. Who the fuck gave him the right to kiss like that? You were almost angry – the way he’s been teasing you for so long and holding out like this? The nerve.

But you couldn’t stay mad, not when his tongue was deep in your mouth and his hands were grabbing fistfuls of your ass. Your hands carded through Eren’s locks, and a low growl ripped from his throat when you tugged on them. You weren’t sure how much more time you spent kissing and grabbing at each other – a few minutes? An hour? – but when your brain finally cleared of its fog you found yourself on his lap in the driver’s seat of your car, grinding your hips down onto him, his hands at your hips guiding you.

“Eren,”  you said, voice breathy and whiny, as his lips trailed your collarbone.

“Yeah?” He asked, his lips glued to your skin. He could taste just a hint of salt from your sweat. But he was sweaty too, it was hot as fuck outside. Not that he cared.

Some sort of clarity had hit your mind and you asked, “What if my dad comes back?”

Eren let out a low chuckle, the hot breath from his nose fanning against your throat, before going back to your skin. “He won’t.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Your dad’s wasted. He’s probably asleep by now,” his lips traced paths up your throat, settling for that dip between your jaw and your ear.

“Then let’s go inside, please.”

He pulled away to peer into your eyes, to check if you had changed your mind. They were clouded with lust, begging as you grinded against him once more.

“Why?”

You hooked a finger under his necklace, pulling him closer. Hovering above his now bruised lips, you said, “so you can fuck me.”

Sneaking past your father was surprisingly easy. He really was knocked out on the couch, an empty beer can in his hand over his chest, snoring the rest of the afternoon away. While Eren washed his hands and re-tied his hair, you waited on your bed. You almost expected it to be awkward when he returned to you, but when he crawled in between your legs you picked up right where you left off, breathless kisses and wanton moans, loud and unabashed, reverberating against the four walls of your bedroom. Once your dad was asleep, there was no waking him up, not that either of you cared. All you cared about was hearing more of those sexy moans of his, feeling more of his skin, tasting more of those lips. Your hands scrambled at the button of his jeans, fumbling to get them open while your lips were captured between his teeth. You grunted in frustration when you couldn’t get him free, making him chuckle.

“Can’t wait to have my cock, can you?” he teased, his own hand coming down to do the work for you. He unbuttoned his jeans, his pants sitting low on his hips. But he made no move to take them off just yet.

“Eren, please,” you begged.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.” You could hear the smugness in his voice. Yes, he was desperate to finally be inside you, but hearing you beg just a little first wouldn’t hurt.

“I want your cock inside me, daddy,” you mewled, your hands pawing at the sides of his pants, peeling them down off his hips.

When his jeans and boxers were down to his mid-thigh, his dick was finally free, rock hard and glistening with precum, ready just for you. He ached with anticipation. You licked your lips, every hair on your body on edge as you waited for him to move.

He settled in between your parted legs, sitting on his knees, lazily pumping his cock with his fist. His eyes scanned your body, your clothing discarded some time ago while he kissed you, his gaze settling on your cunt, soaked, waiting, just waiting for him. He’d normally take his time, let you cum on his tongue, or perhaps on his fingers, but with your father downstairs and the years of waiting for this moment, he wanted, no, he needed his cock inside you immediately. He couldn’t wait much longer.

You moaned as he teased the head up and down your folds, skin glazing over your clit over and over. He has been a tease since day one, and hell even now he was fucking teasing.

“Please, put it in,” you asked, hands coming up to grip tightly on his shoulders.

“So impatient,” he grinned, pretending as if he wasn’t just as impatient, and suddenly he rammed himself inside, one full thrust so hard you had to blink back tears.

“Oh my god!” you couldn’t help but yell, the force of his movement jolting you against the bed.

He paused after that one single thrust, his cock buried inside, to push your legs back until your thighs were pressed to your chest, his hands holding down your legs by the ankles. He leaned into your ear, his voice so low and deep it sent shivers up your spine.

“Now, baby… I want you to tell your daddy downstairs who’s your daddy. I want you to take my fucking cock like a good fucking girl, yeah?”

You were so shocked by his words, yet feeling so fucking stuffed, so turned on, you simply nodded, tightening your grip on his shoulders. And suddenly he was moving, not an ounce of effort wasted on starting slow, his grip on your ankles tight, his hips crashing into you and balls smacking against your skin with every thrust. You were whimpering, moaning, tears welling in the corners of your eyes – everything at once, because he was absolutely ruining you. He’d been waiting years to do so, afterall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he said, words squeezed out between gritted teeth.

You were both covered in sweat all over again, though for different reasons now, your body pressed deep into your mattress as his body hovered over yours, pounding over and over and over. A mixture of curse words, his name, daddy, and whatever unintelligible gibberish came out of your mouth, all choked out of your hoarse throat as he moved, your nails marking red crescents into his shoulders. His hair was falling out of his bun once more, locks falling against your skin, painting it like a brush with each thrust. You locked eyes for a moment, only long enough until you couldn’t stand it, the animalistic look in his eyes so striking you had to look away or you’d be eaten whole.

He let go of one of your ankles to bring a thumb to your clit, rubbing it with the pad of his finger as you squeezed around him. He moved, both his hips and his fingers, watching as you approached your peak. He could see it in the way your eyes rolled back in your head before squeezing shut, your lips parted in the cutest form of the letter ‘O’, your toes curled in the air. He could hear it in the way your moans turned to high pitched ‘ohs’ and your breath got ragged. And he could feel it, in the way your walls squeezed him with no fucking mercy. You were cumming, cumming so hard on his cock you were fucking crying, full drops of tears streaming down your pretty face.

“Daddy’s girl’s a little crybaby is she?” he teased, but you didn’t care, your mind way out in orbit, trying desperately to come back to this atmosphere. You weren’t even close to coming back down when suddenly he flipped you over, face pressed into the sheets, ass in the air.

He gave your ass a good slap before stuffing his cock right back in, hands reaching out to tease and tug at your nipples. You yelped in pain as he tugged them harder, snapping his hips against your ass, so hard your whole body moved up against the sheets.

“Ah–Daddy, fuck!” you whined, the new angle pushing him deeper inside you than before.

He smacked your ass once more, “Louder, I know you can baby.”

At this point you’d forgotten all about your father downstairs, so caught up in this moment with Eren, that when he asked you to be louder there wasn’t a reason in the world for you to stop yourself. He was jackhammering away at your poor cunt, the only thing holding your hips in place was his vice grip on them, the rest of your body limply pressed into the mattress, your screams muffled into the sheets. Eren was saying something about stuffing your cunt with his cum, but you couldn’t make out the words, so thoroughly fucked dumb you couldn’t even think to process what he was saying.

With only whines and mumbles left pouring out of your lips, he laughed between his heavy breaths. “Fucked you dumb, did I?”

Eren was about to continue to run his mouth, when suddenly outside the door were heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

Snapped out of your trance, you propped yourself up with the palms of your hands. “Shit, shit, shit,” you whispered. But Eren didn’t stop – you’d gone tighter around him, the little slut that you were, getting turned on by the thought of getting caught. He could feel himself getting closer, too. Fuck, he needed to cum. He couldn’t stop now.

“Eren, Eren,” you panicked as the footsteps got closer.

“Not now baby, daddy’s about to cum.”

“No, daddy’s about to come up here!” you whispered harshly.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna–”

A knocking came from the door.

“Honey, are you okay? Heard some noises coming from up there,” you father said from across the door.

You looked back at Eren, panicked. He didn’t stop moving, only mouthing the word ‘answer’.

“I’m okay, d-dad,” you answered, a thrust that hit your cervix causing you to stutter.

“Have you seen Eren? His car’s still here,” he said, and Eren resisted the urge to chuckle at your father’s stupidity, cursing under his breath at the feeling of his cock dragging across your tight cunt. He was desperately trying to stave off his orgasm but his balls were clenching with the need to cum.

“Nope! Maybe he’s out-outside.”

“Alright, I’ll head out to check,” your father said, and you listened to the sound of his footsteps retreating back down the stairs. God he was really oblivious, wasn’t he?

Meanwhile the orgasm Eren was holding back hit him like a truck. He came, with his head thrown back and expletives escaping his lips in harsh groans, spilling his hot seed into you with no remorse. He held your body still, looking back down to watch as he pulled out, his cum trickling out down your cunt and thighs, wetting the sheets below. He fucked his cum back into you, once, twice, just mesmorized in the way it coated his length.

“Fuck, I made a mess of your pussy,” he chuckled, finally pulling out for good, releasing his hold on your hips and letting you fall down to rest on your sheets.

“That’s not the only thing thats a fucking mess,” you muttered into the sheets, completely spent. “Holy fuck.”

Eren sat on his knees for a moment, catching his breath. For a moment you thought you were both safe, sharing a lazy smile from across the bed.

That was, until the footsteps returned, growing louder again with each step.

“Shit.”

Tagging: @paradisdementor @httpjaeg @j0livi0ni @coyloves @fqiryspit @softjaegerhours @yeagerfushiguro @deathnxtess @erentoes @vivi-et @andriathorne @mikasavqx @missyasma @blondeboyfriend @psaikichic @levi-br0 @brooks-lin @idgaf69 @jeanreinersex @omg-ginvodka @emonaculate @jeansbabycake @misslovingpearl @ackersune @ficsforeren

@mtyobr @luda-m-lada @songbirdgardensworld @stressed-reader @suikrem @chocoboba @shujisslut @jaegerxbhg @leeviiieee @kipani-snow-25 @itsjuliee @littlemochi @lucifershija @kayleegomez @explodobunnie @candylovesapples

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇

yakuza boss!Gojo Satoru x f!reader

genre. romance, smut

s. after inheriting your family pastry shop, the troubles begin. who would have thought that the boss of such a dangerous organization would have a sweet tooth, and not only for sweets

cw. big dick!Gojo, size kink, fingerfucking, oral, creampie, mating press, full nelson, squirting, mirror sex - not a mirror but a window, praise, manhandling, doggy | wc. 6k

cw. yakuza!boss Toji, blackmail, noncon groping + kissing — Toji makes a short appearance, he is a rival of Satoru from another yakuza gang

an. Gojo falls hard — rbs + coms are appreciated — m.list

How did things turn out this way?

When grandpa was running the bakery everything was going well. Business was good, customers were always satisfied, and in just a few years he had made a name for himself. They called him ‘the King of Cakes’.

Then he was taken away by old age. The man who had raised you after the death of your parents, the man who had taken care of you, who had taught you the art of baking was suddenly gone.

Toraya Bakery had been his dream since he was a child. Once you got old enough he asked you to join and help him, he knew you were talented, maybe even more than him, but now that it’s in your hands you’re shattering it all. All his efforts are just falling on deaf ears.

A few weeks after grandpa’s death a large chain of dessert stores opened not far from your bakery. Even the most loyal customers had stopped showing up and you, in order to pay for the goods and the bills, had to take out a loan and now not even that loan can be paid off.

“I’m so sorry grandpa” you sob with documents of the last month’s payments in your hand, sitting at an empty table in the store.

Not a single customer came in today either. Yet the presentations at the windows are nice, they are the same ones that your grandpa taught you to set up. The flavor of the pastries is the same one you grew up with and learned to make, so what’s wrong?

While you are lost in your thoughts the bell that warns of the arrival of customers rings. The man who walks in looks completely out of place in your store.

Keep reading

cw: smut. minors do not interact. fem!reader. this is me thinking too much abt shoyo folding me into a mating press. tit sucking. breeding kink. babytrapping(?). a lil manhandling. talk/thoughts about impregnation.

it's only been a few minutes since hinata made it home to you, but already, he's gently laying you across the sheets, and tracing his eyes all over your body, tongue sticking out between his lips.

as he moves back a little to let you get comfortable, he's watching the curves of your tits and the slants of your hips and imagining how he's going to take you tonight — ready to lay out the vision that's simmering behind his eyes for so long.

he's been away from you for too long, pulled out by too many games overseas, and all he wants now is to just stay with you.

he wants to tell his coach, his team, his manager, that he doesn't want to leave you alone for weeks and weeks on end anymore.

but he needs a good excuse, a reason, to do that.

at first, he didn't know what to do.

he and you have been together for long enough like this — there's never been any problems or disagreements to do with distance between you two.

the love between you both has only ever grown with time, and besides, you have your work to focus on, and so you're fully supportive of the weeks and months you have to spend apart because of his work.

it's not like you need him around all the time, either — you're perfectly capable on your own.

you don't even seem to mind, anyway, and neither had he. until now.

however, there was nothing he could bring up, for them to let him stay with you for as long as he wanted.

now though, he's got a good idea.

all he has to do is make you need him around all the time. all he has to do — is fuck you full of his cum, make sure you take all of it, and put a baby in you.

he slides a hand under you, cupping his palm at the dip between your ass and your thigh, staring unblinkingly at you as he does — and when you blush, turn your face away from his bright gaze, he just wants to fill you up even more.

you'll look so beautiful, carrying his kids, he can already see it. such a fucking hot thought, he has no idea how he's never wanted this so badly before.

dragging his palm across your skin, he pulls your leg up, fixes his grip to the back of your knee and hooks your leg over his shoulder.

"baby," he smiles. "you ready?"

"yes, yes," you reply instantly, nodding frantically — you might be fine with him leaving on away games for weeks, but you definitely do miss him.

he's holding himself up over you with his other arm, gripping the blankets right beside your face, and there's desperation in your eyes as you reach up and grab his wrist to tug it a little closer to your cheek. "please, shoyo. i missed you."

"missed you too," he breathes, lowering his face to yours so he can meet your lips in a kiss — he tastes so sweet, like sour candy, and you're instantly enamoured, lost in how good he feels.

he lines his cock up against your entrance, pushes in easily enough with how wet you are already, and you immediately flutter around him, pulling him in like you've been craving for this forever.

you have, you really have, and so has he.

"fuck, takin' me so well, baby." he groans, head falling as he looks down to watch how your pussy looks with his cock in it, and his orange curls brush against your nose, smelling like sunbaked sand. "look at you, so beautiful."

"just hurry up and fuck me, shoyo," you gasp, fingers tightening around his wrist as you involuntarily arch yourself up against him, desperate to have all of his length and girth in you. "don't want you to go slow. not this time, please. i need all of you, now."

a voice in the back of his head tells him he should take things easy at first, prep you up gently before he gets rough with you — but really, he can't take it any longer either.

his cock's already leaking, balls already so full and heavy, and he needs to give it all to you — now.

"fine, princess, you asked for it." he grins, before grabbing you by your waist and snapping your ass up against his pelvis, sheathing his cock all the way in your cunt in one go.

his tip lands a harsh kiss on your cervix, and you cry out at the sharp twinge of pleasure that courses up your spine — but before you can catch your breath, hinata takes you by the back of both your knees and pushes your legs back, pressing you down and spreading you wide open for him to ruin. "gonna give it all to you, so take it."

the first slap of skin against skin when he pulls out a little and slams back in is powerful — the sting burns, but you're not even able to open your mouth before he does it again, over and over, setting a rhythm so fucking fast with his cock into your cunt that you can barely handle it.

"hah — sh-shoyo!" you whine, voice pitchy and ragged, and the sound of it sends a thrill through him. "fuck, so much!"

he folds you back further, listening to the sounds coming out of your lips and urging himself to go faster, so the snap of his hips and the squelch of your already so messy cunt will fall in sync with them.

"beautiful," he inhales, swallowing thickly and bringing first one hand and then the other, back around your waist. "mmh- y'look so beautiful right now, baby. will look even prettier carrying my kids."

the sentence registers in your head only barely, with how hard he's fucking into you, using his grip on your waist to pull you back and forth to meet his hips and back — but a confused huh? still hops off your tongue.

"yeah," he giggles, leaning down, the panes of his chest grazing your bare stomach, slick with a layer of sweat. "t-take all my cum for me, baby — i'll fuck it into you. won't have to keep leaving you alone, if i tell them you're going to have my kids."

"shoyo, what—" you can't continue, because he lowers his torso onto yours completely then, pressing you further down with his weight as he latches his mouth around one of your tits.

still keeping up the speed of his thrusts, shoving in and out of your cunt with all the energy and force he can muster, he sucks your tit fervently, tongue circling around the perked bud of your nipple before he lets out a satisfied hum.

"baby, 'm close. gonna cum — you'll take it all for me, won't you? all of it?" he asks, hands tight around you and body heavy over yours so you're pinned under him, and you feel his cock twitch against your walls when you clench around him again.

his head meets your cervix once more, and all you can produce in answer is a shaky, fucked out moan.

he smiles with his mouth around your tit, and angles himself just a little higher so he hits the spot you like best.

"w-wanna hear you, sunshine — you'll take all my cum and carry our babies, won't you?" he asks, and with the next hard shove of his cock into you, you cry out and nod, eyes squeezed shut as you bask in the intensity he exudes as he laughs.

his breath hitches when he sucks in his next lungful of air, and you know he's about to fill you up — and you want to say more, but you can't.

he laughs again when he feels the band in his core snap, and he breathes out, shaky and hot, "have it, baby. that's my good girl."