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anlian-aishang · 3 years

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Kinktober Day 12: Food Play & In The Kitchen & On The Floor

"Slice of life. Reader baking in nothing but Levi’s shirt. He comes out. She somehow manages to get batter on her neck (and it’s her sweet spot) so when he says “Let me get that for you.” He’s sucking on her neck and already she’s moaning. His hands travel up to her breasts, cups them, massages them, making her moan until he has the bright idea of ripping the shirt apart so she’s in her bra and undies, lays her on the kitchen floor (it’s fine, it’s clean. This IS Levi’s house we’re talking about) and carefully, seductively, calculatedly pours cake batter on her body and cue the beginnings of smut. (Licking, sucking, moaning, fucking) you get the picture."

word count: 1800

tags: smut, levi x reader, penetration, fem!reader

while writing this, i listened to

Remember! Levi hates art theft.

An early morning clarity: after only your first night with Levi, you already knew that you wanted another and another, then maybe the key to his place. Looking over to your side, admiring his sleeping state - lips slightly parted, strands of hair flopped onto his face, arms crossed and curled up, blankets bundled him entirely. From your back, a purple dawn warmed golden, painting him in sunrise. Pristine white sheets, an idyllic daybreak, Levi asleep beside you - you wouldn’t even need to grab anything from home, you had everything you needed right here.

Smitten from the start, you felt those same butterflies that you used to get at slumber parties. Naivety thought to shake him awake, bounce on the bed, start a pillow fight. It was not the fear of getting your ass kicked that stopped you, though, it was the thought of something even better.

Last night, you had won him over, evidenced now by the lingering sting at your middle and his hushed filthy slut still ringing in your ears. Chills at the memory, a smile you hid underneath the comforter.

Rolled on your side, brows knit as you tried to read his resting face, which did he love more - making things clean or making dirty love?

What about both?

// // //

When you heard his footsteps drawing closer and closer, the sift of slippers on tile floor, you felt your heart start to race. What you had set up for him now, you had a feeling this would charm him even more than you had last night. You shivered, dire anticipation of the pleasure you were sure to feel - sooner with every step.

Hand rested on the countertop, a subtle alert to his arrival. Your eyes stayed diligent on your cookware, resisting the temptation to look up. An avid smile was not as muted.

Admiration in his tone as he took in your spread, “Look at you making all this mess…” his cupboards left ajar with flour-dusted fingerprints on them. Not an inch of space left on his kitchen island. Everywhere was covered, even you - some batter here, some powder there - the only clothing to your bare thighs. Even your shirt was -

My shirt.

Elbow perched, leaning on the granite slate. Dilated pupils turned to slivers, “...making all this mess in my clothes.”

Anyone else would have gotten an earful, but you knew you were someone special to him - last night’s remnants of endorphins sang the proof. Your whisk maintained its speed even as you shot him a wink, “I didn’t wanna get my clothes dirty.”

Levi cocked a brow, “So you wear mine instead?”

“Don’t get so mad,” you teased, “it was a day old anyways.”

The shirt he had worn to bed and woken up without - firm wrinkles and his scent still on it, now milk, sugar, and egg yolk to add. Levi pinched the seams, examined, and scoffed, “You’re filthy.”

Hand found his at the hem, fingers intertwined, you lifted his hold to your lips and spoke against him, “You love it, though, don’t you?”

Levi grit his teeth, unable to suppress the smile warming across his lips. He did.

// // //

Deviant fingers snuck underneath your borrowed cotton, clutching the fabric and your breasts, “I want it back.” Soft lips on your tainted neck, eating up the raw batter that just so happened to get there, “And I want you clean.”

Bangs wisped against your nape. A hardening at your hips to which his briefs were the only barrier. Shivers sent down your spine, ones he felt at his front - pressed to your back. Breath caught in your chest, voice barely a whisper, you still strove for snark, “You’ll have to do it yourself then.”

Levi tilted his neck, silent chuckle brushed your shoulders. You really had no idea what you were asking from him - no idea how thoroughly he would come through. Until then, though… he would work you up for it. Kisses continued their pursuit, smacks on your cheek, tracing of your jawline, sucking along your neck. Bruises for all to see, especially you - suggesting that perhaps you would not have to work so hard for that key.

You rolled your head back, lips inadvertently parted in pleasure. Your moans were enough, still - Levi could not help a peek. Morning glow reflected off your shimmering skin. In your stance, a perpetual quake, seasoned with twitches. Two familiar hills made their peaks into his shirt. Even as you were being consumed, you were still attempting to stir the bowl, cycles becoming lazier and lazier. Levi bit down on your shoulder, stifling a smirk. Fucking adorable.

It gave him an idea, one you never could have seen coming from your clean freak, one he never would have done otherwise - but it was just who you were, always managing to bring out a side of him that no one else had ever seen, one he did not even know he had.

Calloused hands left your curves for only a second, just long enough to take hold of his threads and rip them apart from the inside. New exposure, nakedness, and just the thought of how much he wanted you - a man of composure destroying his own belongings just to get to you that much faster - you felt your buds instantly harden, arousal spilling to your thighs. A gasp you were helpless to contain was both savored and ignored, followed by the sudden grasp of his hand atop yours, a calculated grip of the mixing bowl as well. Fingertips dipped in, and even in your haze, you were already envisioning him sucking himself clean. Eyes rolled back, imagination wandering, and therefore missed how they cupped into a C, scooping up the mix - disrupting its intended purpose with plans of his own.

The sound - slap! - and the touch - smack! - brought you to, awakened from your daydreams of him, discovering a reality that was even better. Silky smooth texture brought to your most sensitive areas - all of them immensely grateful for this new stimulation, even if at the cost of a morning spent baking.

It’s gonna go to waste!

“L’Levi!? I was gonna use that!”

Not a waste.

A ghost of a smile, “So am I.”

Mist turned opaque, but you managed only a stammer - cut off when his lips returned to the neck he had just licked clean then dirtied again. Tongue traced your skin, a perfect path hit all of your checkpoints. Tight grasps of his rough hands around your arms, locking you in place, imploring you to face and come to terms with this novel sensation.

One completely new experience, and one that was new to you until just ten hours ago. Levi’s mouth and hands swallowed you whole, guzzling every inch, all of you for himself. A mess of his own, now, as his member leaked onto your slit.

“L-Levi,...”

Levi’s voice, his tremble - you were not alone in faltering, “Y-Yeah?”

“P’Please…!” You stuttered, saliva spluttering along with your words, “P’Please, put it in me…”

Oh, you really had done this all to yourself - constantly offering up better and better ideas. Simultaneously put into you at the same time: his yearning erection to your wet walls, his sugar-coated digits into your parched mouth. Already overstimulated, you somehow managed to take him all at once - clenching around him, sucking him clean, and earning yourself an, “Atta girl…”

A couple of preemptive thrusts, just enough to ensure that you could take him again. Last night’s evidence rang clear: hypersensitivity still screaming, dams just rebuilt had crumbled again. Thinking back to the confidence you set up the scene with, you scoffed at your previous self - you should have known: Levi Ackerman was beyond any expectation.

How your fingers so desperately clutched the countertop edge, the buckling of your knees, the coat of sweat on your figure, Levi revered them foremost, but thought to spare you the stress. Sunday mornings were meant to be relaxing, and here, he had you exhausted. The tenacious versions of you had it coming, but not the sweetheart who woke up early to make him breakfast. Some thanks.

Too early in the relationship to know - you did consider it an apt reward. The bridal-style hold he took of you, though, it felt as if you two had marched down the aisle long ago. Arm wrapped behind your back, knees tucked together, bound securely against him. Reclined, not thrown, to his spotless kitchen floor. Levi, atop you, could see your reflections in it. If anything, you were the one dirtying his place. A reassuring kiss, Don’t get it twisted.

Careful caress and soothing contact. Disintegrated was the ferocity he fucked you with before, remaining was that passion - not a passion to push you to your edge, but to take hold of your hand and guide you to it.

“Lie back. Relax.” Interrupting himself with a return to your lips, “And let me do the rest.”

// // //

Another layer of cake - poured slowly, licked up even slower. Another demonstration of how he valued your needs over his.

Back arched against tile floor - a trade off of pain for that much pleasure. Writhing, squirming, aching, for every last inch you could get of him. Fingers curled into his back, strong enough to take it, enduring your scratches that were feral enough to scar. Legs knotted around him, yanking him deeper and faster. Mere pebbles of regard for him, his stamina, the bruises he would have tonight courtesy of this morning. Wrapped up in your own world now, priorities lie in yourself - Levi smirked, content to be thrown to the wayside in your selfish search for satisfaction.

An endeavor so admirable, he could not help but reward it.

Hipbones rocked into your curves, his tip so tender in roughing up your patches, a conscious acceleration in his pace erroneously made uncontrollable. Covered in dessert, his appetite, by his abdomen to your torso, chest to chest, by the fingers that intertwined with yours and coaxed you both to climax.

“C’mon, sweetheart…”

At the pet name, you shivered. At your shiver, he stiffened, “Cum with me.”

An order, though kind, you took it for what it was - an order. Eyes widened in realization, this morning you so carefully thought up and set up, wasn’t it so that you could entice him? Heart thumps, breath catches, you staved them off in the snatch of that command, no matter how loving it was.

Vice grip of his locks, hard press of his undercut brought his ear to your lips. A bite and a hiss, “Listen, Levi… you’re gonna cum with me.”

And “fuck - !” If that did not rile him. The Type A neat freak, who would have thought that this demanding girl with dirty words would have been the one to win him over - the one to make him feel what nothing else, no one else had?

Last to expect it, incapable of managing it. A series of harsh pants buried in your neck, a climax that seized all of him - one that made him cling to you throughout, your ears the ones lucky enough to hear the praise for it. An explosion of pleasure, an aftershock of feelings for you.

The key to his heart this morning. The key to his apartment as soon as the locksmith opened.

// Kinktober Year 2 Masterlist //

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