el

he’s terribly enamored with you. each noice and expression you make has his cock jumping. your knees dig into the mattress as you almost fall directly onto his lap.

“easy, darling. maybe this will give you some motivation, hm?” he unbuckled his belt. your mouth salivates at the sight of his bulge pressing tightly against his pants.

“sylus,” you moan, head falling onto his shoulder. “need you, inside. please…?” you ask so sweetly that his resolve almost falls. the puppy-like eyes you give him has him suppressing a shudder.

“make yourself cum, and i’ll give you what you want, darling.” you imagine the delicious burn of his cock stretching you out, the way his til will perfectly settle and thrust against your sweet spot. and best of all sylus’s fingers playing with your clit. all of these thoughts combined is what drives you over the edge.

it’s such a cute sight to see, sylus laughs out loud. he swallows your mewls when you cum around your own fingers. he bites your bottom lip when he slides his cock inside your sensitive cunt. your hands fly to his chest,

“wait, wait. too- too much!” you almost panic, if not for his arms pressing you chest to chest.

“it’s alright, i’ve got you.” sylus’s voice has you gushing around his cock and you know he feels like when he chuckles into a needy kiss. your tongues swirl around each other’s, drool falling from your lips. the thick exchange of saliva makes your head feel dizzy.

“aren’t you such a good girl?” sylus coos at you, nose rubbing against your throat. his hand wraps around your throat, pressing his fingertips into the sides of your neck. there’s an intense pressure that builds up inside your body when he begins sliding you up and down his cock, thrusting up to meet you midway.

your fingers dig into his shoulders, scratching down the expanse of his back. sylus’s lips are right by your ear, allowing you to hear every moan, every groan, every breathless word he’s able to say.

“fuck, you’re so wet, darling. “ he chuckles in a strained tone, smashing your lips back together. he manages to press your back into the mattress, crushing you under his weight.

there’s no way to squirm away from his cock incessantly prodding at your sweet spot. he knows exactly what you like. his head tilts down, wrapping his lips around your sensitive nipple and his free hand swirls your swollen clit.

you’re practically cumming every few seconds with how sylus is playing your body like an instrument. he knows exactly where to touch, and how exactly to do it. with your eyes rolled back and your hips twitching. you can feel sylus practically in your guts with this position: legs pressed against your chest, not to mention the hand choking you roughly.

you try to fight against it, whine and cry that you can’t do it, but sylus ignores your whines. you’ve taken him countless of times (and in much rougher manners as well.) he knows this is just one of your acts. he clicks his tongue again. you manage to get your hands on his face, trying to push him away from your sensitive tits. however, sylus takes your fingers in his mouth, tasting the remnants of your cum and slick on them.

the sight of sylus’s pink tongue darting out to lick your fingers in such a filthy matter does it for you. sylus’s crimson eyes watches as your eyes tumble back into your skull and your back attempts to arch away from the pleasure, only to be assaulted with even more.

there’s this feeling in your pit you’ve never felt before. it’s far more intense than you cum on a regular day. something about it is so dizzying and borderline suffocating.

“there you go darling. let it go, baby.” sylus moans against your fingers, pressing down on your tummy with his forearm. it’s too much, it too-

you can’t hear yourself scream, but your voice resonates around the bedroom. you can tell there’s something wrong that feels so damn good.

sylus slowly stops what he’s doing to admire the mess you’ve made all on his abs and your thighs. he chuckles as he slides a finger against the liquid. he brings it into his mouth, salivating.

“who knew you could do such a thing?” there’s that predatory glint and smile on his face that makes your stomach pit and cunt gush again. a deep chuckle rises out of sylus when he slots his lips against yours.

“let’s try that again, yes?”

you sniffle and shake your head, hands wrapping around the base of his length to keep him from pulling away. “no- i can do it.” you swallow thickly, blinking away your tears and with renounced determination.

 too bad you can’t see the smug look on his face. “suit yourself.” he leans back again, tilting his head and watching with a playful smile.

you give sylus’ leaking tip a small, sticky kiss and watch with half lidded eyes when it twitches. you give him a slow stroke from the base of neatly trimmed white hair to the swollen red tip before parting your lips and sliding the head back into your perfect, warm mouth. you slide your tongue across the underside, breathing deep through your nose.

“mhm.” he hums as he feels the hot drag of your tongue over the curve of his tip. you mouth your way down his thick length, drooling down his dick causing it to gather at your fist wrapped around the base. with your mouth attached to his tip, you give him another stroke, spreading the spit along his length. with a shaky breath, you ease your lips down his cock. 

sylus doesn’t help  other than gently cradling the back of your head, he much rather enjoys watching the way your eyes roll back into your head at the taste of his cock, the way you get so eager and excited, slurping and suckling with enthusiasm. it was all too cute. 

“much better.” sylus breathes steadily, sitting up and curling his other hand under your chin, gently holding you on his length. his thumb brushes soothingly under your jaw as he speaks. “ready? tap me if you need to stop.” with the slight nod of your head, he firmly sinks your head down.

sylus bites back a groan when he feels his tip brush against the back of your throat. “breathe through your nose, kitten.” he says, his voice hoarse.

you swallow on his cock, gagging as you try to control your breathing. but just like he predicted, you’re starting to slobber, causing thick bubbles of spit and precum beginning to collect on his length. even with the slick slide of your lips on his skin, tears brim your eyes once more as you choke and sputter around his length. 

even with all your effort to please him: hands stroking at the base, trying to take him as deep as possible while simultaneously trying not to gag every time you take more than half. it’s just too much. and he knows that. through the haze in your head, you hear sylus sigh deeply. 

“all right, that’s enough, sweetie.” sylus chuckles softly before his dick suddenly eases out of your throat, air immediately rushing into your lungs as you cough. he tilts your head up at him as he looks over the tears and spit on your face. the embarassment and shame on your face is cute too.

“a-already?-”

“yes, already. come here.” sylus coaxes, hooking his hands under your arms and lifting you easily into his lap. even as you pout, your arms wrap around his neck as you sniffle and pant quietly.

“shh shh, calm down.” sylus soothes slowly. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself.” he brushes away your tears with his thumb, looking at you fondly even with a smirk on his face. he wasn’t teasing you, he just couldn’t help how he loved the look on your face after failing to make him cum for the third night in a row.

Sylus blinks the sleep from his eyes to find you straddling his thighs, a smirk in place.

It's not like the Onychinus leader to ever let his guard down, but give the man a break—he's exhausted after trying to escape a raid last night.

And instead of letting him sleep, what does his precious little lover do?

That's right—she's got him all tied up to their bed.

His brows furrow, and he tugs on the knot, frustration growing alongside his respect. The knots were a solid 10/10; he could barely move if given a chance.

"Little one, what is this?" He tries to sound understanding, concerned, even.

You snicker. "What does it look like, Sy?" The pretty manicure you got on his card makes him pause. He barely blinks, taking in the sight of your hands sliding down his bare chest. He thinks the red and black combination suits you very, very well indeed.

Blood-red eyes narrow and his jaw ticks. "I would say you're playing with fire, kitten. Let me go—now."

It's an order—one you don't listen to.

"Say, Sy," you casually drape yourself all over him, enjoying his squirming. "Your neck is very sensitive, isn't it?"

Your finger trails from his jaw right to his jugular, hovering over the strip of skin.

"Shit, no," he cusses, flinching back from your touch. "Don't even think about it—"

Your lips replace your finger, trailing hot kisses down his neck. Sylus swallows down an embarrassing gasp, hands turning to fists above his head.

"Kitten, I'm warning you."

But, you don't listen to him—you never do.

Your mouth moves from his neck down to his chest, circling over his well-built chest. Your hair tickles him, trailing after your mouth that moves from chest to stomach down to his pelvis. So dangerously close to where he can feel you the most.

"Kitten, I'm serious here." His voice is a low growl, shooting a dirty thrill up your spine. "Stop teasing me and let me go."

You hum, moving your teasing little mouth to band of his sweatpants. Sylus' abs constrict the second he sees your naughty tongue lick a strip across his happy trail and he swears Devil horns appear on your head.

You grin, running your hand down the seam of his inner thigh.

"Sy," your tone is innocent, though a lustful demon is controlling you. "You're naked underneath those sweats, right?"

The 28-year-old underground leader is no idiot. He can tell when a kitten is itching to stretch her claws.

"Don't even think about it," he warns. Except, you're already doing it.

You touch the impressive bulge, proof that he was not immune to your teasing.

Oh, if only the Hunters Association could see you now. Sylus aches all over thinking about how he's gone off the deep end and ruined you—Linkon's shiniest Hunter—all for the sake of satisfying his dirty games.

The old you would never have found the guts to tie him up to his own bed and suck on him through his sweatpants. She would never have the nerve to be such a little slut.

But, he's changed you. For better or for worst, he can't decide.

Especially not right now when you straighten and he finally notices you in his black silk shirt, buttons sloppily done like a child did them, the too big collar slipping down to expose your shoulders.

Shit. An unwilling groan slips past his clenched teeth when you straddle his lap again and he sees you have no panties on. Fucking hell... she's out for my blood.

"Y/N," he growls your real name now, dead serious. "No more games. Untie me right this instant—fuck."

You grind down on his still clothed bulge, blinking your eyes innocently.

He growls, shaking his head. "I'm the one who ties you up. Or, have you forgotten, kitten?"

A tinkling laugh reaches his hot ears. "You sound like you're not enjoying yourself when this—" you reach for his dick and squeeze it, ignoring his hiss of pleasure. "—is proof that you are."

Oh. He narrows his eyes, licks his lips. You're going to get it this time.

But, your hand on him feels too good, and Sylus can't deny that a sick, twisted part of him is loving this.

His arms tense, tugging on the rope, his expression a cross between ecstasy and pain.

"If you beg me, I'll suck you off," you promise.

A hollow laugh. "Beg you? Beg. You? Shit, a-ah—no way. I'm not giving in. Not gonna give into you. I'm not—" He chokes on a moan. You're fondling his tip through the scratchy material. "Fuck. Fuck. Okay. Okay. Please?"

His voice goes quiet at the end, and you hum.

"Please, what?"

Sylus bares his teeth. No fucking way were you being dead serious.

You grin, twisting your wrist. "Say it, Sy. Please, Mistress."

His jaw ticks, glare deepening. You think he's going to give in—his surrender right at the tip of your tongue.

Suddenly, he starts to laugh. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet little kitten. You forgot something. Wanna see it?"

You stare at him in confusion, not sure what he's hinting at.

Sylus' smirk deepens, and he exhales another diabolical chuckle.

"You forgot to loop the tie, you foolish little Hunter."

Before your fast reflexes can kick in, his super fast ones have you pinned to the bed, beating you at your own game. The ropes you restrain him with are now around your wrist and you're tethered in the same spot you once had him in.

Pink dusts his cheeks, and Sylus is breathing hard like he's run a marathon. His frosty locks are a mess, but nothing is as terrifying as the sneer on his face.

It burns through you, leaving you breathless when he presses his face closer; you can physically smell the triumph radiating off him.

"What was it you said just a few minutes ago? Ah." His voice drops to a hush whisper; deep baritone caressing the shell of your ear as his hitched breathing teases you, drawing you deeper into the pit of your mistake.

Rubbing in your face how wrong you are for trying to play the master manipulator himself.

"Call you 'Mistress'? Make me beg? Oh, my little dove." He yanks the knots tighter and you yelp at the bite of pain. Sylus leaves enough room for you to wiggle around and make sure the blood still flows, though there's no other give.

Once again, you're trapped under him.

"I can smell your fear," he mocks, raising a brow. "It's so... addictive."

Returning the favor, Sylus nudges your chin up. "Lift your face up, baby. Lift it."

His mouth touches the nape of your neck, dragging towards your pulse point, your jaw, and back to your collarbones, leaving hot and wet kisses everywhere he can reach. Your sweet sounds are addictive, driving him crazy.

"You kissed me all over my body," he drawls in that seductive accent.

Another wet kiss on your shoulder. Sylus takes his time to unbutton the shirt you stole from him, humming under his breath. You flinch once your chest is exposed, and his smirk deepens.

"No way to escape for you now, kitten."

"Sylus, I'm sorry," you blurt out, but it's too late. He's already decided on your punishment.

"Tch." Clicking his tongue, he stands, looking ravishing in just his low slung, gray sweatpants. "I'll be back, little dove. Wait for me."

You can't see where he's disappeared to, only hearing him come back with more loops of rope.

"What's that?" you squeak.

"Nothing for you to worry," he hums, grabbing your ankle and fastening it with a round of rope, attaching it to the bed post. He does the same with your other ankle, and you're truly spread out for him with no way to escape.

Caught in his web you spun of your own stubbornness and greed.

"Sy—"

He shushes you, bringing a dark material right to your face and you tremble when you realize what it is.

"I told you that you have nothing to worry about, little dove," he murmurs, fingers working deftly to secure the blindfold around your eyes.

Darkness encases you, and you're tied to his bed, spread-eagle and helpless.

The bed dips beside you, and you feel the heat of his body hovering over yours.

"Now, what did you do to me a few moments ago, little dove? Oh, right." He grabs your face, tilting your head back. "You kissed me all over my neck."

His mouth resumes its carnal path across your sensitive skin, your hips bucking whenever a bite of pain from his teeth grazes you.

"My chest."

Sylus mouths at your collarbones, smearing hot kisses down your clavicles, over your breasts, stopping to suck and tease your nipples until you cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, I forgot how sensitive your sweet buds are," he murmurs huskily, pinching your nipples until they swell and throb. "What else did you do, hmm? Oh, yes..."

The marks of heat move down your body, right to your tummy; his kisses loud and lewd.

"Mhm, you kissed me right over my stomach..."

"Sy." Your whimpers draw another evil smirk on his handsome face. He can tell you're crumbling in real time. "Please."

You have no idea what you're begging for. But, Sylus hears you loud and clear.

"Don't worry, little dove. I won't tease you like how you teased me." His voice is magnetic, drawing you deeper into his web with his husky baritone and deep whispers. "Not... like... this..."

As he speaks, he caresses your stomach, loving how it flexes and twitches when he moves his touch right to your inner thighs.

"Do you want me to eat you out, kitten?" Sylus hums, and you fight back a shiver at the possessive undercurrent in his question.

"Yes," you admit, unable to help yourself. Your hips quiver, a moan falling past your mouth when he presses a languid kiss onto your inner thigh. "Yes, please."

"Please, what?" he taunts, drawing circles on your hips with his thumb. "Ask me nicely and I might oblige, little dove."

This is Sylus in his element—on top, domineering and controlling all the ropes. You have no choice but to give into him if you want to feel the barest hint of pleasure that he's holding back from you.

"Sir," you gasp, flinching at the bite of his fingernails digging into your plush thigh. "Please, Sir."

The second the word leaves your mouth, he's all over your drooling cunt.

Sylus eats you out in broad, languid strokes, focusing on your clit; using his tongue to play with it, bathing it with tender mouthfuls of praises and degradation all in one.

You wanna come, baby? Wanna mess up my face?

In another breath, he pushes a finger past your quivering pussy, curving it upward to hook on your softest spot. Your hips drive forward, a yelp perforating the heavy air.

No, kitten. You can't come. You can't—oh, fuck.

Sylus drinks in your taste, spreading your shaking thighs further apart. His broad palms trickle up your chest, cupping your heaving breasts and playing with your stiff nipples. He pinches them just as his tongue slips inside your tender heat, nose rubbing against your clit.

Tears stain the blindfold, your mouth hanging wide open in ecstasy. Sylus wishes he could paint a picture of you looking this wanton and needy.

You can't come, baby, he murmurs in between your folds. I won't let you. You've been such a bad girl. I'm gonna edge you until you can't think. Ah-ah. No cumming. No, no. He grounds you back down onto the mattress with those large palms, stopping you from grinding on his face.

I'm gonna ruin every orgasm you have—don't think I don't know when you're coming, baby. I know you. I can taste you. I know when you're close.

Your body is taut as a bow, teeth gritted and nails digging crescent indents into your palms.

Every time you climb towards the point of no return, Sylus drags you back down; backing away from your pussy, leaving you squirming and desperately writhing on the bed for minutes on end until your orgasm fades away—only to restart the entire process again from square one.

"Now you feel my pain, little dove?" He wipes your tears away, humming lowly. "It's not nice to tease people, isn't it?"

Point taken. You mumble his name, and twist your head as if trying to search for him. "Sylus, please. I wanna come."

Oh? This delights him. You're finally breaking down. You want to come, little one? Then, beg.

Your hips clip all needy against his, and your mouth puckers into a frown.

"Sy—"

He grabs your chin, holding you fast as his lips barely touch yours. Beg me.

Please. You lick your lips, tasting nothing but him. Please, Sy. Please, please. Make me cum.

He's back between your thighs, a fiend for your pussy. Sucking, licking, moaning and breathing deeply—it's erotic and obscene, salacious sounds bouncing across the walls. Your head is spinning, the entire room tunneling into one singular sensation of his tongue deep in your cunt.

Those slender, calloused fingers are back on your nipples, bringing you to the brink of insanity. You've bitten your lips hard enough to draw blood; your hips buck, and you're begging for him to give you a reprieve without a second thought.

Please, Sir. Please. Please make me come. I can't—I need it. I need you.

Yeah? A ghost of his chuckle caresses through your folds and you think he's going to relent.

Going to give you what you want, so you try again.

"Please?" You're so close it almost hurts. Your thighs are cramping, arms straining, back about to break with how tautly you're struggling in his restraints. "Please? Please, Sy. Please."

"Mhm," he murmurs, and you think he's going to give in. Finally going to let you climax after stringing you along for what feels like hours.

"No."

He kisses your clit as tears of frustration trickle down your face.

Sylus was never going to give you what you wanted—not when he already has you in the palm of his hand.

— scenario inspired by one of my fave y2f audios <3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated <333

And now, you're pushed down on the firm mattress of your bed with a flustered Taehoon hovering over you, his fingers clutching on the sheets below. Both of you feel awkward and hesitant, but at least, Taehoon looks determined.

After the previous mishap, his breaths maintain a heavy pace before he leans down to you again.

And you fucking giggle.

"What?!" Taehoon snaps. If he put any more tension on your sheets, you think he might rip it.

"You know I laugh when I'm nervous, why are you mad at me!" You bristle, curling up under him. You already know he's big from being close to him in normal settings, but in this proximity, you become even more aware of how intimidating his size is. Even while you try to not focus on his body, the warmth radiating from him forces you to be even more aware of your situation.

"Goddamnit," he mutters, "do you want to do this or not?"

"I do, I do! It's just..." You swallow, fiddling with the material of his shirt in an unconscious effort to keep him where he is. "It's... weird, I don't know, it's a bit out of the blue."

Taehoon raises an eyebrow, sounding slightly offended, "You've never thought about this before?"

You can't help but roll your eyes, smacking his chest for the question. "I have, of course. It's natural but... thinking and actually doing it are two different things. You just sprung it on me, how did you expect me to react?"

"Honestly, I was just hoping you'd lie back and fucking let me get on with it," he groans, running his fingers through the soft strands of his hair, "Y'know, people are usually not as mouthy as you in porn..."

"You do understand those videos aren't realistic, right?" You snort with a wry smile on your lips, unable to contain your amusement.

"Shut up," Taehoon sighs in defeat, closing the gap between the two of you again. His mouth meets you in a familiar dance, his tongue pries your lips open and brushes with yours. Taehoon kisses you with an unbridled hunger, always too greedy, always wanting too much, always craving more.

His hand slips under your shirt, smoothing his rough palm over your soft skin until his fingers brush over the outline of your bra. You can feel him smirking against your lips before he pulls back. The molten heat of his brown eyes bears into yours. "Last chance to back out," he murmurs, rubbing his thumb down on your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

"All right."

"Seriously?" Taehoon freezes, gawking at you with widened eyes.

Immediately, you burst into laughter and earn an undignified scowl from him.

"God, you're so fucking annoying," Taehoon grumbles, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

"You're the one trying to fuck me," you giggle harder, trying to squirm away from him but Taehoon keeps a vice grip on your body.

He snorts, "Yeah, so you can use your mouth for something other than yapping for once."

"Hey!"

Any of your further protests are swallowed by him when he melds his mouth with yours. Taehoon kisses you deep and hard, his tongue brushes yours until your breath is taken away. Unlike everything else he's trying to do, Taehoon knows how to kiss you, knows how to draw out the sighs, knows how to make you mewl and moan.

He pulls you flush to his body, lifting you off the bed while his hand sticks under your shirt. His deft fingers fiddle with the clasp of your bra while he keeps you occupied with his mouth.

Still fiddling.

Fiddling with it still.

Taehoon lets out a frustrated huff as he tears back from you to focus fully on your bra. You wrap your arms around his neck tighter to keep yourself upright, but you can't help the giggle from escaping. "Do you need help with that...?"

"Fuck off," he mutters before groaning. "Let me get this thing off you first."

Impatient. So impatient. He tugs your shirt off and unceremoniously tosses it down to the floor.

"Taehoon!"

But your grumbling goes unheeded when he dives straight back to his previous task, frowning hard as he pulls your bra open, nearly tearing the garment off in his haste. "Good fucking riddance," he tosses it down to the floor as well.

When Taehoon looks back at you, his breath catches in his throat. His pupils dilate when his eyes land on the sight of your bare breasts. You're flushed red all over your face, suddenly self-conscious underneath his gaze. For a moment, he doesn't say anything. It unnerves you a little because you can't find anything to fill the air.

The awkward silence stretches on for a moment before you finally manage to put together a coherent sentence, "What? You've never seen—Eek!"

Taehoon pushes you down to the mattress, his mouth latches to one of your nipples while the other one falls victim to his hand. "Ah...Ah—" You moan helplessly, nails clinging to his back and leaving behind what you assume to be angry red trails on his skin. He hisses, sucking harder while kneading the other soft mound in his hand.

"Fuck," his curse conceals a moan, his tongue flicks on the hard nub. "You feel better than I imagined."

"You imagined this before?" You gasp, a little amused, but mostly distracted by the pleasure he's deriving from your body.

Taehoon grunts, "Don't say it like you haven't thought about it before, we've been together long enough."

"Not everyone has their mind in the gutter like you," you run your fingers through the soft strands of his hair, smiling a little when he leans back into your hand.

"Liar," he retorts, "I saw how you leered at me."

"I never leered—!"

Your word is cut with a consuming kiss. Taehoon makes up with sheer confidence for all that he fumbles up to this point. "I'm getting rid of these," he mutters against your lips, roughly tugging off your shorts and the panties with it. Another whispered curse escapes his lips when his eyes trail down the length of your body.

"Spread your legs," Taehoon gives you no time to follow through with his words when he takes over on his own, "fuck, you look cute like this."

"S-Shut up," you hiss through your embarrassment, trying to close your legs to avoid his scrutiny, but he won't let you.

"For all of that talking, you're already wet," he snorts, dipping a hand between your legs. A strange jolt jumps up your spine when he brushes his fingers against your fold, "Where's that thing... the clit? Whatever the fuck it is, it's the thing that gives you pleasure, right?"

You furrow your eyebrows, lifting your head to see what he's doing down there. "How should I know—Ah!"

"Oh, there it is," Taehoon presses his thumb down on your clit, testing it down with circular motions on the sensitive bundle of nerve. Heat burns at the bottom of your stomach, filling you with overwhelming desires.

"T-Taehoon!" You cling on his shoulder, face flushed with blood. He's making your head dizzy with the best kind of sensation, but the only expression on his face is mild intrigue. Almost curious, even. If you weren't caught up with how his hand was moving on your body, you'd have thought he was having fun observing your reaction.

Before you get a chance to get used to the sensation, he dips a finger past your folds. A choked noise spills out of your mouth when he pushes it up experimentally, rubbing on your inner walls. He chuckles upon seeing you squirm under his ministration, devious gleams spark his eyes. "You like that?"

"Mhm," you bite down on your lower lip, trying to not sound obscenely loud. His ego is large enough as is, if he knows he can make you putty so easily, he'll be insufferable.

Another finger joins the first, reaching deep inside you until his touches make you jump. You're unable to hold back from the whine that escapes, so needy and wanton that he can no longer remain unaffected. His eyes sharpen with an unrivalled focus while he continues to rub on that previous spot, making your body shake from the assault of sensation.

"Taehoon!" You cry out, crawling on his back in an effort to find any stability, but failing to feel anything through the haze of lust. Just when you edge over the brink, he pulls back from you. If you weren't so caught up in the loss, you'd have been ashamed of how pathetic your whimper of protest sounded.

"What was that for?"

Taehoon doesn't answer you, only licking his finger distractedly before sucking on them. "Remind me to go down on you next time," a thoughtful look crosses his face.

So caught up in your confusion, you fail to notice his movement until his boxer is halfway down to his knees, freeing his erection from its confinement.

"Ah, wait..." You stammer weakly at the sight, entranced and intimidated at the same time.

"What?" The smirk on his lips overrides the innocence of his question. Taehoon hisses softly when his hand wraps around his cock, which boasts more in length than girth, with a smooth cockhead seeping out precum on his skin. You'd call it pretty had you not been so caught up about how it'll soon be in you.

"Uh, protection?"

Taehoon rolls his eyes before caging you down. Another protest spills past your lips, but you don't stay stuck on it for long.

"I'll pull out," he says, dead serious.

"Taehoon!" As you move to shove him off, you notice him picking up a small, square package from the bedside table. Your dumbfounded expression must've amused him because he's grinning when he tears the package open.

"You're such a baby," he snorts, wrapping the condom over his cock, "I'm not a fucking idiot, you know?"

"You act like one often..." You mutter dourly, not even bothering to comment when he pulls you flush to him and rubs his cock over your folds. The sensation of plastic is strange on your skin. For a brief moment, you almost want him to take it off.

"Any last word?" Taehoon tries to maintain his arrogant facade even while his face begins to flush with wants. You can see his restraint fraying at the edge as he grinds his cock over your core.

"Oh, fuck you."

"That's the plan," is the only warning he gives you before the head of his cock pushes in past your entrance. Taehoon inhales sharply, fingers digging down on your thighs as he keeps your legs open. "Fucking hell..."

"Go slow..." You swallow, a little nervous.

"Yeah... yeah," he nods uncertainly, but his muscles strain with tension when he pushes in. Taehoon keeps it slow as he lets you adjust to his size, but every shallow thrust is a hiss from his lips. The slow dance between the two of you only comes to a halt when he's fully seated inside you. Taehoon blows out a long breath, obviously pleased with himself. "Any discomfort?"

"A little," your confidence is shaken by your unsteady breaths, "just... don't rush it."

"Mhm," he pulls out slowly, massaging your thighs with a gentleness you rarely ever see in him. "Try to relax, it's harder if you keep tensing up."

You pout, "Easier said than done," but you listen to him anyway. It's not easy when he feels so full inside you. Taehoon sees your struggles and decides to distract you with his kisses. At least, this, you can deal with. He kisses you slowly, and gently, keeping up with the same rhythm as he thrusts in and out of you.

His lips move down to the column of your neck, sucking and licking until you're sure you will have marks to cover up for the next few days. He takes hold of your breast in his palm, kneading the soft flesh until you can't focus on anything but his hands on your skin.

Taehoon continues to grind into you as he takes a nipple into his mouth, teasing the hard bud with his teeth. "You good?"

A weak confirmation is hummed from the base of your throat before you manage to utter a single word. "Faster."

"Faster?"

"Yeah."

Taehoon's hand slips down to grip your hip to keep you firmly in place, "All right," he wastes no time to quicken up the space. Gradually, the snap of his hips against yours becomes harsher and more frequent. Taehoon's breath grows ragged, his brows furrow in an effort to hold back from losing himself completely.

You're hazily aware of his hand slipping down between the two of you before a burst of pleasure shoots up your spine. All you can manage is a long, desperate whine while he continues to rub your clit, hoping to push you over the edge before he does.

And he'd succeed in it. He stills as you come, letting you hold onto him with your face buried into the crook of his neck. A strangled sob wrecks your body until your eyes grow teary from the pleasure. You're barely aware of Taehoon, only the softness of his eyes when he stares down at your wanton expression.

"Fuck..." He whispers before closing the distance between the two of you with a searing kiss. His tongue dominates yours in every sense of the word. Soon, he finds his rhythm again, his hand leaves your clit to pull your body closer to his. Whatever composure he has before vanishes, his movement grows erratic as his hips jerk into yours.

Taehoon comes with a gasp that he barely manages to conceal behind his grunt. He collapses on top of your body, teeth gritted and eyes shut tight.

It takes you a while to realize he has no intention to move.

"Taehooooooon!" You grumble, trying to push him off now that the afterglow no longer overwhelms the two of you.

"Whaaaaaaaaat?" He huffs in annoyance, barely alleviating his weight off you when he gets on his elbows.

"You weigh like a tonne, get off me," your hands barely manage to make him budge, struggling with how boneless you feel. "Come on, you're going to crush me."

"Maybe I want to crush you," he grins and puts more of his body down on yours.

You bristle, smacking his shoulder, "Fuck off!"

In retaliation, he captures your nipple in his mouth and bites down just enough to sting. You jump as the pain sets in, but your immediate need for retribution makes you smack his shoulder harder. "Hey! Let that go, you asshole!"

Taehoon cackles victoriously. He lifts himself up just enough for you to think you've escaped his torment before he pulls you into a kiss again, short and sweet, so different from everything he has done to you thus far. "You're such a whiner," he murmurs against your lips before giving you another peck.

Squeezing yourself as flush to his bare skin as possible, finger tracing his collarbone while your question comes in whisper: 

“So…why do you keep calling me mommy?” 

Seishiro’s half-asleep, so his answer comes out soft and heavy. “S’just how you act. And it’s pretty hot.” 

You scoff, rolling onto your back in a fit of defiance. You don’t think you act motherly.  Nagi’s quick to roll on top of you when you move, sticking to your chest like a magnet, clinging to your front and using your tits as a pillow—this position suits him just fine. 

Once he’s nuzzled in for maximum comfort he yawns. “Are you mad at me?” He lifts an eyelid to peek at your face. “Didn’t think it bothered you that much.” 

With a sigh your arms are around him, nails gently grazing his naked back the way you know he likes. 

“No, I'm not mad. Just feels weird. No one’s ever called me that before and when you do it I can never tell if you’re making fun of me.” 

He inhales a deep breath against your skin before he responds, lips dragging against your breast. 

“Not making fun. I really do think ‘t’s hot.” 

There’s a yawn and then a sleepy, open mouthed kiss on the soft skin above your nipple. 

“really?” 

“y’have no idea” 

There’s a few more drowsy kisses to your chest then, before your nipple’s latched into Nagi’s greedy mouth, the other circled gently with his thumb. You whine, running fingers through his hair and tugging at his roots. 

There’s a soft pop when he pulls away. 

“do you?” 

He squeezes your tits lazily in each palm while he asks, playing like they’re stress balls—such a regular occurrence it’s humorless by this point. 

“Do I what?”

“Think it’s hot? Mommy?” 

Your answer is a jagged sigh when he starts kissing his way around your other breast, glancing up to meet your gaze. 

“Umm. I’m not—“ 

His eyes droop closed and Seishiro moans a bit when your other nipple is captured between his lips. You feel him grind slow against your thigh then. 

Muffled: “Not?” 

“Not sure…” 

He pulls off of you then, looking at you with shockingly awake eyes for Seishiro Nagi past 10 pm on a weekday. 

“Well. D’you wanna test it? See if you like it?” 

You giggle. “How?”

He answers by crawling over your leg so his hips are slotted between your thighs. There’s a pause while he runs his signature vacant stare down your face before, without further segue, he meets your lips. 

You smile into his kiss, loving the familiar Seishiro-nature of it all. His kisses are always languid and effortless, comfortable and often somewhat lazy, but you like them best that way. They feel comforting. Just like all his late night touches, so vulnerable and safe and raw it’s heartfelt. 

This kiss takes little time to grow messy, licking inside each other’s mouths and eventually drooling till you’re needy and twitching around nothing, and Sei can’t seem to help but grind against your center. 

Your eyes fly open when he does; he’s so hard. 

Your lips separate then, catching your breath in ragged gulps of air while fingers run through Nagi’s hair, pulling bangs out of his face.  He only grinds his boxers deeper into you.

“You’re gonna fuck me?” 

Your voice is a whine while you lift your hips to meet his next movement, fingers clawing his back and his neck, careful not to dig nails in—classically gentle for him. 

“Can I?” His tone is desperate in a special rare way—one he reserves for your ears late at night—while he lets his forehead rest on the pillow above your ear, the next buck of his hips slower and deeper. 

You nod frantically, ripping down your panties before helping him tug at his boxers. 

No time is wasted—it feels needy and rushed when Nagi sinks himself inside not a second later. You find yourself clinging onto his arms for support—he’s normally slower, a bit more careful with you since he’s so big, but it’s like he’s forgotten his size when he shoves past your entrance, gripping the flesh of your hip like a lifeline till he’s bottomed out. It's a good thing you’ve been dripping with anticipation for a while now.

There’s a beat of stillness when he does, silent except for shaky breaths, where you each do nothing but adjust. 

Then Nagi is bending to his elbows, reaching an arm behind your back to snuggle himself close before fucking into you like he’s possessed. 

There’s barely any build up before he’s moving like there’s lives on the line, rolling his hips hard and deep and moaning in your ear all the while. 

You wanna tell him it’s too much but the most you can manage is an “Ah- Sei—“ before he’s squeezing one of your thighs up, reaching a new angle that has your words replaced with gasps. 

He smears a kiss by your ear before answering in a whiny pant, “yes, mommy?” 

Your closed eyes snap open at that, feeling fresh heat bloom in your tummy. Oh. 

Your body starts grinding up to meet his hips without thinking while your arms wrap around Seishiro’s back, rubbing sloppy circles into his skin while he continues to absolutely ruin your pussy.

“You’re—“ you wrap the leg he was holding around him, “doing so-ngh good Sei.”

“Yeah? Doing good f’r you?” He pants, hopeful and boyish and cute. 

You can only nod, squeezing him tighter with your leg as you approach your peak, Nagi clearly not far behind you as he drops his forehead to the pillow above your ear again, hugging you closer while somehow still fucking into you with the same frantic precision. 

“‘Am I—nggh ‘m I a good boy then?” You clamp down at his words, earning a hiss.

“Y-your good boy?” He adds, almost whimpers.

“Uh-huh… You’re my- hah- good boy Sei.” 

You cum then, making a high pitch noise at the relief of it, feeling Nagi fill you up a moment after. He doesn’t stop moving till you’re sensitive and sticky and full, his weight falling onto you in a heavy blanket once he’s done. 

A lot of the time now is when Nagi’s eyes droop too much for anything further, he’s chronically sleepy after all. But when his face lifts to see yours, his expression is very much conscious. and adoring. 

“Mmm Nagi?” You murmur his name like a caress, sweet as you can manage while pushing hair from his eyes for the millionth time. 

“Mhm?” 

“Want me to ride you?” 

He nods fast. 

By the time you’ve switched places and you’re easing down onto him, Nagi is starting to yawn again a little. His head is resting against the headboard, he’s relaxed. Because this is routine—you ride him all the time and it’s comfortable.

But while it’ll always be comfortable when it comes to nagi—the sex feels different right now—extra tender somehow. Tender but also filthy because your new name is still in the back of your mind as you’re split open, thinking about Nagi being your good boy again. 

He is, of course, without trying. panting soft and pretty once you’re bouncing hips against him in earnest, warm hands squeezing at your sides to help guide you up and down. 

You kiss his temple when he does, asking “How’s it feel, sweet boy?”

You curl your center forwards then, earning a jagged moan while Nagi’s breath catches in his throat. 

“F-fuck- so good mommy. S’too good.” 

You’re rolling now more than bouncing, slowing down to prolong the impending creampie… you want this feeling to last. 

Your easier movements finally give nagi the potential for brain activity, letting him open his heavy eyelids to watch you work, running palms up to knead your tits. 

“Such a pretty mommy.” He adds almost idly, tugging your nipples and bucking his hips when you tighten around him. 

You can’t help but chuckle at his words, shy again somehow. 

Through a yawn he asks, “does the sweet boy get a kiss?” 

That makes you giggle even more before you’re leaning in, locking lips deep and sensual while Nagi starts to help guide you up and down his length again. Your mouths are quickly swapping spit and drooling as you find a rhythm that way, hitting a toe-curling sweet spot inside you over and over that has you crying out into Nagi’s mouth. He moves long fingers between you to lazily rub at your clit when he feels you’re getting close, thudding his head back against the headboard when you feel so good you can’t kiss him back anymore.

Soon you’re coming undone for the second time tonight around him, clamping down so tightly that nagi can’t help but cum with you, rolling the back of his head against the headboard with his eyes all scrunched, whines of ngh m-mommy as he does. You feel his hot cum fill you for the second time tonight then, pouring inside for even more than the first time it seems as you rub a soothing hand over Nagi’s chest and thumb over his cheek throughout. 

With our further ado there’s a collapse, both of you remaining snuggled together while you try and adjust so you’re laying the right direction on your bed. 

Yawning, your breathing finally begins to slow in his hold, pretty sure Sei’s already asleep. 

But then he moves, adjusting so you’re both on your sides while he spoons you, a big palm falling over your lower belly, rubbing it a bit. 

You try to sleep like that, but then you’re dwelling on the sticky mess that remains between your legs, and the spot that nagi keeps on rubbing beneath your belly button. Over your fucking womb. 

Your eyes shoot open.

“Wait- Sei— you’re not thinking of actually making me—?” 

You planned to move away to college at the end of the summer, finally. Your school of choice was a three-hour drive from home. To you, it was the perfect distance. Just far enough to give you some much-needed space, but still within reason for a weekend visit if needed. You wouldn’t know anyone there, but that was what you were looking forward to the most, actually. It would be a fresh start.

You never did get the ‘fresh start’ that everyone talked about. You know, the new beginnings that came with every school year. You always tried to be optimistic about it but each time, without fail, your teachers scowled when they saw your last name on their rosters. They all knew your older brother Collin—very well, unfortunately.

His reputation preceded you as a punk who was sent to the principal’s office for acting out in class time and time again. Out of the classroom, too—in the hallways, on the football field after hours. Even in the parking lot when he got into a fender bender with his English teacher his senior year. You were cursed with the same teacher last semester and learned the hard way that she had a habit of holding grudges. 

But that was beside the point. What you were trying to say was: you were ready for college. More than ready. Giddy and practically vibrating with excitement, marking the days off on your calendar until move-in week. Until you could finally quit your lousy summer job at the ice cream shop, waiting on old folk that never knew what they wanted and didn’t bother tipping. 

Still, there was just one teensy little thing you were hoping to get out of the way before freshman year. But now that it was only a few weeks away—twenty-three days, but who’s counting?—it was starting to feel more like a pipe dream.

At the end of the day, there was no point throwing a tizzy over going to college a virgin. Surely, you wouldn’t be the only one.

Right?

Your parents had left for their annual end-of-summer trip down to the beach to visit your grandparents for a week. It used to be a family event, but now that you and Collin were deemed old enough, you had more say in whether you tagged along or not. 

Collin had skipped out the last two summers, but this was the first year you were allowed to stay home, too, now that you were eighteen. But what you didn’t expect was that his three best friends would be there with the two of you—for the better half of the week, at that. Apparently, since they had done it the last two years, it had become a tradition, as they put it. Honestly, you were just impressed Collin was able to pull it off without your parents catching on, considering he was never one to clean the house when you were kids. 

No matter, though; it didn’t bother you much. They had been your brother’s friends since they were in the eighth grade. Having them around was nothing new to you. Of course, it was more fun when you were younger—back when you could play Mario Party together and force Collin to sit out. Now, there wasn’t nearly as much in common besides the occasional tormenting of your brother. 

So, the four of them did their thing, and you did yours.

But therein lies the problem. Even while you did you minded your business, someone just couldn’t seem to mind theirs. He couldn’t prevent his thoughts from wandering back to you—couldn’t prevent his eyes from lingering longer than they should.

It wasn’t Armin. He would never dare to look at you that way, the girl he tutored in algebra. Nor was it Jean, hopelessly consumed with texting his classmate, still determined as ever to win her over.

No, it was Eren. 'The cute one,’ as coined by you and your friends once he hit his growth spurt and grew out his hair. Though Eren was unaware of the epithet, this would be the year he’d unknowingly return the sentiment, thinking of you as Collin's very cute sister.

Eren was gone last summer, away at an internship, so it had been a couple of years since he’d last seen you. And you appeared to have—ahem—really grown into yourself, to put it delicately. 

Listen, it was harmless. It wasn’t like Eren planned on feeling this way toward you. He didn’t think twice about it when Collin said you’d be at his place, too. And there was no way in hell he’d act on it. He wouldn’t even dare to let the thoughts hang around in his mind, consistently shoving them aside before they could permeate. You were Collin’s—his best friend’s—sister. More than that, you were his little sister! 

He thought he was being discreet about it, but man, did you have to make it so tough? Did you really need to lay out by your parents’ pool every single day? Jeez. As a matter of fact, when was the last time it rained? This had to be the longest they’d been without it, now that Eren was thinking about it.

Back to the point here: Eren was, in fact, not remotely discreet. Armin brought it to his attention as they went to grab another beer. You happened to pop into the kitchen at the same time, just to grab a snack, and damn it, why did you have next to nothing on? Like, yeah, the place was a little warm tonight, and it was your house and all, but seriously? Tiny shorts rolled high on your waist and a tank top that looked extra clingy as you reached for a cup on the top shelf. 

“You can’t be serious,” Armin grumbled to Eren. Once you were gone, obviously. 

Eren should have known what Armin was referencing, but he was dumb to it, wholly convinced he had been treading carefully. “What do you—”

“You can’t bang Collin’s sister!”

Who even says ‘bang’ anymore?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.” Eren innocently held his palms up, waving them as if he could shake off the wicked accusation. “That’s a little far now, isn’t it?”

Armin was getting ahead of himself again; even Eren hadn’t let his mind wander past that boundary… yet. 

Armin gave him a look, like he knew better than to take Eren’s word at face value. “Well, it sure looks like you’re trying to bang his sister.”

“Who’s trying to bang who’s sister?”

Both Eren and Armin jumped at the voice, heads spinning like they were on a swivel to find Collin. He emerged from the basement, Jean trailing behind with a suspicious, low-browed expression.  

“Oh,” Eren stammered. He had to come up with something fast because he wasn’t about to leave it to Armin, the notoriously awful liar. “Armin was just telling me about some porn he watched the other night.” Eren shrugged. “You know, where the guy tries to bang someone’s sister.”

Armin glared at Eren for throwing him under the bus but reluctantly went along with the lie. “Yeah, and then he, uh… bangs the sister?”

Idiot, Eren couldn’t help but think. Whatever, it seemed to work well enough. Collin stared back at them like they were no better than a couple of horny morons. Jean dismissed it, too. Or at least, it didn’t bother him enough to let it interfere with him going for another beer.

With the crisis only half-averted, the four returned to the basement with freshly-cracked cans of beer in tow, where they would spend the rest of the night playing video games until they eventually passed out.

Well, at least three of them did. 

Eren couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t anything new. He battled with insomnia from time to time. Tossing and turning on a wobbly air mattress didn’t make it any easier to fall asleep, and with the basement only marginally cooler than the rest of the house, he thought he might as well get a glass of water. 

Unluckily (luckily?) for him, he was interrupted before he could do just that. The sight of you, simply existing, lounged up on the couch, startled him. 

Someone’s jumpy tonight. You giggled when he cursed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” Eren asked.

You lightheartedly taunted, “Last time I checked, I live here, don’t I?”

He made a face at you, lacking the amusement your voice carried. “You know what I meant. Why are you still awake?”

It was the first time Eren had bumped into you. Not the first time ever, obviously; you had been alone together on countless occasions. But this was different, never this late at night before, and it was the only time it’d been just the two of you since he’d thought about you like that. 

“Do I need a reason?” you airly replied, almost on a yawn as you stretched. “It’s summer break, and I don’t have work tomorrow.”

He didn’t offer more than a nod of acknowledgment before moseying across the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. Unsure of where this was going, you reached for the remote and paused your show.

“What are you guys doing down there?”

“They’re all asleep,” Eren answered. He stood idly in the middle of the room because, like you, he was curious as to where this was heading.

“And you’re not asleep because…?”

No, he couldn’t think like that. This was going nowhere. 

“I came to grab some water,” he hurried to say—or at least, you thought it sounded hurried—and disappeared into the kitchen right after. 

You listened for a moment, fingers dancing on the button of the remote as you debated starting your show again. But when the faucet flicked off, he didn’t return to the basement in the apparent rush he was in. Instead, he stayed there, with you. 

Eren sipped his water, thinking of what to say next. It was an uphill battle because there wasn’t anything to say. There was no reason he needed to start a conversation with you. And yet, there he was, leaned up against the wall, dumbly scratching at his midriff as he racked—

Wait. Were you checking him out?

If there was one thing Eren had learned at college—let’s be real here, he had a nasty habit of skipping class—it was that he did pretty well for himself when it came to girls. Decent enough, he’d say. He at least had enough sense to know when a chick was interested in him. And now that you had creaked that door open, ogled at where his hand had lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach, he didn’t really have another choice but to step inside and explore around. Just a bit. 

Armin’s warning blared in the back of Eren’s head. As luck would have it, his conscience tended to have Armin’s voice. But there wasn’t anything wrong with casual conversation, was there? After all, he had known you for years. 

“So, are you excited to leave for college soon?”

Nope. There was no turning back now. 

You perked up in your seat. “Yeah, for sure. It’ll be nice to go somewhere new. Meet new people, make new friends—”

“Maybe you’ll finally find your Fabio.”

There was a joke there, unfortunately. One you hadn’t heard in so long that you cringed at the memory.

As Collin’s sister, his friends were first-hand witnesses to your boy crazy phase, all your dating flops. Perhaps they had even learned you were quite the hopeless romantic. And by that, you meant Jean had found a smutty novel you had stolen from your mom—yes, it even had the signature Fabio-esque cover, hence the joke. Anyway, he read it aloud in front of your brother and the rest of their friends until Armin snatched the book from him, which somehow made the whole ordeal even worse. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you offhandedly chuckled. “I was sort of hoping that would happen before college, but you know—I’m sure plenty of people go to college inexperienced.”

Your voice trailed off there at the end, almost like the notion really bothered you. Eren scrutinized it, this thing you handed him. It was a conversational game of hot potato—something you had shoved his way and forced him to hold onto. Why were you bringing this up? Were you looking for his advice?

Eren set down his glass and moved to sit by you on the couch. The far side of it. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed and kicking yourself for having said anything in the first place. But your abruptness sounded just as bad, so with a sigh, you said, “I mean, I guess. I don’t want people to think I’m a loser for being a virgin.”

Again, why were you mentioning this to him? Eren felt like he was playing with fire. He knew he was going to wind up burnt the longer he stayed, maybe even scorching everything around him, even you, in the process. 

Still, he poked it, added some kindling because he was unwilling to let it die out. “I think there’s a fairly simple solution to that.”

“What, getting laid? I think I know that,” you scoffed. “And it’s easy for you to say that, looking like—” You loosely waved your hand over the length of him. “You. Believe it or not, I don’t exactly have suitors lining up outside my door.”

Okay, so he was picking up on something here. He wasn’t crazy. You said it then: you found him attractive. And he found you attractive. Extremely so, if that wasn’t obvious already. The answer was easy enough; he might as well go on say it outright then.

“What if I did it?” Eren suggested.

You didn’t know what he meant by it, his casualness throwing you for a loop. Surely, he couldn’t be talking about that. 

“You know, took your virginity.”

Oh. There was no mistaking it now. He was, without a doubt, talking about that. 

And why were you considering it?

Your brother’s friends, Eren included, had taught you all sorts of things before, things they probably shouldn’t have. They told you to flush the toilet to mask your squeaky front door if you planned on sneaking out. Taught you how to roll a joint, and how to take a proper hit after you confessed you had never ‘felt high’ when you smoked. So, would this be any different?

While you mulled it over, Eren took the far-away look behind your eyes as a horrible sign. He realized how insane the proposition sounded once he spoke it into existence. Before he could take it back, play it off as a joke—he had one too many beers, that’s all—you piped up.

“Really?”

He certainly didn’t expect that, stammering, “I—yeah. Why not?”

Another lengthy pause passed before you accused, “Are you just fucking with me?”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” He started rambling then, a jumbled mix of ‘I just—’ and ‘I shouldn’t have—’ until you decidedly cut him off.

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“I said okay. You can… take my virginity.” It felt like a strange way to say it, too formal. And to say it to Eren of all people, who would have guessed it?

Then again, maybe this was the most logical outcome. It wasn’t like you needed to make a big deal of losing your virginity. You weren’t looking for something romantic, with rose petals or a waterbed or any of that corny-porny crap. You were just looking to get it out of the way. That way, when you inevitably meet the love of your life in college (okay, so maybe you were a hopeless romantic), you wouldn’t embarrass yourself the first time you hooked up. 

“Okay,” Eren replied on his inhale, a breath sucked through his teeth, like it was a sin to say aloud. 

He scooted closer, sitting on the cushion that once separated you. You expected him to kiss you, even leaning into him with closed eyes, but your lips barely brushed into his. He didn’t come any closer than that.

Lowly, he asked you, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded. Your noses bumped.

“I need to hear it.”

“I trust you,” you said, even quieter than him. You could barely hear it over the sound of your heart, thumping so hard you swore it might burst into your throat.

Eren kissed you then, tentatively, with his hand cradling the side of your face. He didn’t move until you did, and when you returned the kiss, he followed while letting you take lead.

It didn’t last long, though. You jumped away from each other, back to the opposite sides of the couch, when the basement door squeaked open. The panic subsided when you caught the bright eyes of your family’s cat, her little head poking out from the shadows.

You held a hand to your chest, steadying your breath and trying to settle your rapid heartbeat, as if both were possible. When you met Eren’s gaze, he was already staring at you with a brittle sort of look. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he regret what he had done with you? You didn’t, and you prayed he didn’t either.

Before you had the chance to ask, he finally said, “Should we go to your room?”

“Good idea.”

He knew where your room was, but still, he followed right behind you anyway. At the top of the staircase, just before your bedroom door, you split. You turned to see Eren sneaking into Collin’s room. A minute passed while you listened to his rustling, but when he returned, held between his two fingers was that infamous, shiny foil.

You frowned, hard. “I’m not going to use one of my brother’s condoms.”

“Do you have one then?” Eren asked, already well aware of your answer.

“Fine.” 

Eren had never been in your bedroom before. It felt foreign, and weirdly wrong, to have him in there. He looked out of place for it, too big, too mature, especially as you looked at all your girlish knick-knacks and old photos. You wished you could tuck everything away into some lonely drawer. 

You avoided Eren’s eyes and fixed your attention on adjusting the lights. Your bright ceiling light was far too unforgiving for this, so you switched it out for your bedside lamp. The drone of the old bulb buzzed in the back of your ears, its light a fizzy yellow.

You were nervous. Eren didn’t need to see your face to know it was written all across it. Not that it surprised him, considering this was about to be your first time having sex, and it would be with him. 

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, the sick feeling you get on a rollercoaster, but somehow you want to ride again. Maybe he was just as nervous as you. You had put your trust in him, enough to take your virginity. Handing it to him as if it were some sentimental treasure he could watch over, for safekeeping. 

Sure, he knew the optics were bad. Not just bad but horrendous, actually. He was about to sleep with his best friend’s younger sister, a recently eighteen-year-old virgin. The whole situation sounded no better than a second-rate porno—like the one he had made up with Armin in the kitchen, ha!

This was as much a blessing straight from heaven as it was a curse. But he couldn’t care about the optics now, not with you taking a seat on the bed, looking over at him with these come-and-get-me eyes that may or may not have been intentional. 

No, this wasn’t a curse at all. If it were so wrong of him, then why was it that he already felt his cock straining against his sweats at the mere thought? The thought of how delicate he’d be with you. He needed to be, for the last thing he wanted was to ruin your first time. He’d be the first to show you what pleasure could be with another person—what you were deserving of before going off and letting other boys touch you.

He set the condom on the nightstand and joined you at the edge of your bed, his knee barely grazing yours. He was about to ask if he could kiss you again, but you entirely side-skipped any conversation by picking up right where the two of you had left off. 

Again, Eren relinquished control to you, but he did take the initiative to swipe his tongue into your mouth. You tasted him, the bittersweet flavor of light beer. He was nothing like the last boy you kissed. He didn’t ram his tongue down your throat but kissed you as though he wanted to taste you, to muse over and memorize you. And you let him, lips languidly caressing one another with little point or purpose, solely running on instinct. 

You balled his shirt in your fist, twisted the fabric of it between your hands to have him close—closer. He hoisted you onto his lap with his hands at your waist, and you went along with him more than willing. You draped your hands over his shoulders, crossing them at the wrist, and didn’t let your lips break from his once. 

He smoothed his palms up and down the small of your back until he eventually ventured lower. He gripped at your ass, pulling you down to grind over him. Just once, so you could feel him, how achingly hard he was for you. Then, you did it again all on your own. Lightheaded and teeming with desire, the pressure against your clit, even through your layers of clothing, was an addicting relief. You moved against him, again and again, until you were dragging yourself over him, practically about get off from that alone. 

But Eren didn’t let that happen. Before you get there, Eren used his hold on your hips to stall you. His voice was a mumble against your mouth as he asked you, “How far have you gone?”

“This,” you professed. “This is the farthest I’ve gone.”

Fuck.

“Okay.” It was the word of the night. Eren breathed it out like he was talking to himself. The type of sigh you’d give yourself in the mirror when trying to calm down, which was precisely his goal.

He lifted you with little effort, had you lie back into the pillows before he crawled on top of you. He kissed at your jawline, then placed another on the side of your neck. He left a few of them there. It was all lip, all wispy, like he could break you. Still, you felt each of them like a spark at the base of your spine. 

His fingers trailed lower, tickling over your collarbone but stopping short of the neckline of your tank top. 

“Is it all right if I touch you here?” he asked, punctuating it by running a hand down your breast, over your shirt.

“Yes,” you whispered with a shudder. 

With the confirmation, he massaged lightly, his thumb caressing over your perked nipple. 

He kissed you again, his tongue meeting yours while he rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your back arched instinctively, wanting more—needing more. He listened to your body, learning as he went, and tugged down your tank top. With nothing between you, he lightly pinched at your nipple, pulling a whine from you, one that didn’t get the chance to meet the air.

Eren kissed the side of your face. “Can I kiss you there?” he muttered, referencing your tits as he gave another squeeze. He pressed another kiss, lower, against your throat.

“Mhm,” was all you managed with a voice that was long gone, lost somewhere in the opened-mouth kisses he left along the dip between your chest. 

It tickled a bit when he flicked over your nipple with his tongue—even more when he latched onto it with his mouth. You were wiggly beneath him, driving him wild, and you didn’t even know it. It was sweet how sensitive you were, his mouth being the first to kiss you there, to learn the taste of your skin. So soft. And warm, too, heating up the longer he sucked at your tits, anywhere he pleased.

Eren kept his hand at your waist, palming over your stomach but never risking any lower than that. His touch was heated, urgent, yet he only showed restraint. 

He pulled back from you, letting his face hover inches above yours when he asked, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

He was strangely calm for asking such a personal question, setting your face ablaze. Too rushed, you replied, “Of course I have.”

What did he think? That because you were a virgin, you hadn’t thought about sex before? Hadn’t ever watched porn? Yes, you hadn’t actually done it, but it wasn’t as though you were heading into the situation blind.

“Then—” You, the sight of you wriggling out of your sleep shorts, interrupted him. You caught the bob of his throat when he swallowed, but you weren’t sure he was trying that hard to hide it. “Show me how you do it.”

Eren sat back on his knees, just shy of sitting between your legs as you rested against the pillows. The only thing separating him from you was a thin pair of panties. You hoped he didn’t notice your jittery fingers as you slipped them beneath the band.

You started, “This is—”

“It’s not embarrassing,” he interrupted. It only made you more anxious, like he could read your mind or something. But he was genuine as he said it, assuring you even while struggling to maintain eye contact, his attention flitting from your face to between your legs. “Show me how I can make you come.”

How could he possibly be so open about this? There wasn’t even a shred of hesitation or shame in his voice. You wondered how many people he’d been with—how many times he’d rehearsed before he could speak with such confidence? Enough confidence to have you listening loyally and plunging your hand beneath your underwear. 

You pressed the pads of your fingers against your clit and started to rub. Slowly at first, but already, just that smidgen of relief was enough to pull a flimsy sound from you. You were sensitive, throbbing, and so incredibly turned on that you didn’t hide even as he unabashedly stared at you with pure infatuation. 

Eren rested a hand on your leg, sliding higher and reaching for your panties. “Can I take these off?”

You stopped only to help him work them down your leg, shimmying until he had them thrown to the foot of the bed. You were hesitant to spread your legs again, but he did it for you, placing one at each of his sides. He took your hand and returned it between your thighs, eager for you to continue. So you did just that. 

There wasn’t any doubt he could see everything now—how wet you were, how it coated your fingers the longer you rubbed, the tighter your little circles became. But you were too wrapped up in it to care, playing with yourself just as indecently as you would if you were alone. You couldn’t even be bothered to stifle the chant of gasps spilling from you.

“Can you put a finger inside for me?” Eren requested.

You nodded and pushed one inside, felt how you pulsed around it. You moved it in and out, the same way you had done many times before. 

“Yeah, like that,” he murmured. You heard the ‘fuck’ he cursed under his breath. “How’s that feel?”

“Good,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Try a little faster.”

You did just that and bit back a whimper.

“Add another.”

He needed you stretched. He needed you ready for him. 

You took your second finger well; you had done that before, too.

“You’re doing so good,” he told you. He leaned into you, closing in. “Can I help you now?”

“Please,” you breathed. You slipped your fingers from you, giving Eren access to do with you as he wished.

But he didn’t reach for you. Not there, at least. He held his fingers before your mouth.

“Open up.”

You weren’t sure what he was after, but you obeyed, lusty enough that you found you were trusting him implicitly. He placed his middle and index fingers against your tongue, telling you, “Get them nice and wet for me.”

You sucked on them lightly. Saliva pooled on the back of your tongue as he pressed down. He pulled them from your mouth with a lewd sound and smiled at you. It made your chest swell a bit.

Eren returned to your side. His presence was engulfing as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. It surprised you, the intimacy of it, but you didn’t have any time for second-guessing before he urged, “Keep going.”

You returned to circling your clit as his hand met yours. He traced his pointer finger through you, and every muscle in your body tensed.

“Can I?”

“Yes,” you said, practically a moan.

He slipped it inside you, taking his time with it. His finger was much larger than your own, thicker, reaching deeper than yours had ever gone. Your stomach tightened at the intrusion, trying to adjust. 

“That okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was better than okay. “More. Please.”

Eren chuckled warmly. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curving it just right to have you squirming in his arms. You were beginning to understand why he was holding you now. He wanted to keep you still so that, once he figured out what you liked, he could maintain his pace through your needy bucking. 

He had a hand on your head, petting over you as he asked, “You close?” You couldn’t respond because he added a second finger. A hiss left you, but it melted into a satisfied whine. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you whispered against him, his body dizzyingly hot even through his T-shirt. 

It was becoming quite the task to keep your fingers moving, what with Eren’s fingers hitting a spot that you didn’t even know existed, over and over again. It had you—fuck—it had you coming. So hard that you thoughtlessly rode his hand, eyes screwing shut as you fucked yourself deeper on his fingers, prolonging the bliss however you could until you turned to goo in his arms. 

You were panting against his chest, your body still twitchy, when he started to ask, “Did you—”

“Yes,” you said on a drawn-out exhale. 

He pecked your forehead. You still felt the stamp of it as he moved to get back on top. He held himself above you with hands planted on either side of you, kissing you full on the mouth. Still hazy, you didn’t move much, letting him make out with you all he wanted until his lips traveled down to the dip behind your ear, then the delicate crook of your neck.

He bunched your tank higher up your chest until you both tore it over your head. With it out of his way, Eren continued kissing lower—even lower than before. His breath tickled over your nipples, leaving you a needy, rutting mess—for what exactly, you didn’t know, just more.

“Too much?” Eren asked, looking up at you with his big, green eyes.

“No,” you assured, your mouth agape and in awe of him. “I like it.”

He pressed his smile against your skin, kissing and licking his way down your sternum.

When he reached your navel, you asked, “What are you—”

“Making sure you’re ready.” He kissed your hipbone.

“It’s really okay,” you said, slightly wary. “We should just get this over with, right?”

“What if I don’t want to get this over with?” Eren kissed just above your slit. “What if I want to take my time?”

Eren wanted you as comfortable—as relaxed—as possible. And since he was already about to fuck his friend’s younger sister, with one of his condoms nonetheless, he certainly wasn’t going to dig around for his friend’s lube next. Luckily, there was another, more fun, way that he could ensure you were properly lubricated so as to avoid any pain that may arise from him splitting you on his—

Focus. 

“I need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t,” Eren said, a reminder more to himself than for you. 

You gasped, almost choked, when he kissed the top of your thigh, then the inner part of it. 

“Can you do that for me?”

“Eren, I—” 

“Please.” He licked a broad stripe up the crease of your thigh. That alone had your head thrown back against your pillow, a tiny ‘oh’ escaping you. “Let me. I want to.”

“You do?” you timidly asked.

“So badly,” he replied, but it sounded more like an admission. A white flag of surrender, like he was letting himself fully give in to his desires because, yes, he had thought about this before. There was no use in lying about it now. 

“O-okay.”

On that, he returned to teasing his way between your legs, kissing from the delicate flesh of your inner thighs to—

“Wait!” you interjected. Eren immediately looked to you like he had done something wrong, but you quelled his worry with, “Can you get undressed, too? Like, at least your shirt.”

Your request didn’t sound nearly as self-assured as his, but he listened to you nonetheless. He sat back to peel off his shirt. He smiled at you softly. “Better?”

You scanned over his toned torso, sun-kissed and tanned from summer. Definitely better. “Thanks.”

He leaned over you, his mouth inches from your pussy as he murmured, “It’ll feel good.” Then he kissed your entrance, and the sensation of it jolted through your body like lightning. “Promise.” 

Eren parted you with his fingers before licking through you, letting the newfound feeling sink in deep. His tongue was warm, wet, and exceedingly gentle—nothing like his fingers or even your own. You couldn’t begin to describe it, but that might be because, after a second lap of his tongue, you were already losing any and all coherency. 

You made a few strained sounds, flowery and pathetic, but supported yourself on trembling elbows to watch. When you met Eren’s eyes, he only stopped licking at you to say, “Tell me what feels good.”

“Everything.” The word tumbled out of your mouth desperately. “Everything feels good.”

You felt his laugh just before he closed his mouth back over you. He continued having his way with you, sucking and licking at you, saliva and slick making a mess of his pretty face as he staggered kisses between his laps. Whenever his lips brushed against your clit, your legs would flex tight. He hooked his arms around them, laying them over his strong shoulders. You felt the way his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, locking them in place while he circled his lips around your clit with more pressure than before.

“Ah—oh,” you moaned, your back leaving the bed to press your pussy further into his face, as if you could have him any closer—you know, until you’d have him inside you. But that would come soon enough.

Eren didn’t ask this time; he knew exactly how he was making you feel. And you were thankful for it because you couldn’t dream of him stopping. You needed more, lacing a hand through his locks and pulling lightly, encouraging him. He groaned against you, clearly liking it, so you did it again.

He was sloppy with it while still… thoughtful? That didn’t feel like the correct word for it, but even as he made out with the most intimate part of you, he did it with intention, doing that thing again, whatever it was, with his tongue pointed, because he had quickly learned you liked it. No, he showed you that you liked it. Loved it, actually; it was excruciatingly evident by the breathless sounds you made. 

And when Eren paired his tongue with his sucking lips, swirling it against your clit, you came with your own hand clamped over your mouth. Your entire body gained a pulse of its own. It was much stronger than your first orgasm and longer-lasting, too. The muscles of your stomach wound and released while you rode out your high, Eren groaning against you just as pleasedly. 

Only once you were no longer propped on your elbows but flopped against the bed did Eren let up. Your thighs were still trembling as he kissed a pathway back to your side. You both sat with heaving chests, though yours much heavier than his, and you were beginning to question how you were supposed to go for another round. You hadn’t even reached the—for lack of a better word—main event yet. Truthfully, you expected Eren to throw you to your bed, pop your metaphorical cherry, and be done with it. But now you had already orgasmed twice and he still had his sweatpants on. 

You should probably do something about that, shouldn’t you?

“I wanna touch you, too.”

While innocent, it was the most you had communicated with him this far, so he didn’t stop you when you reached for him. He was more than ready for it. 

You explored him a bit, tracing over his length and discovering what touches made him twitch beneath your touch, still as chaste as ever. 

“Show me,” you purred.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do—a hand job was far from rocket science. It was more like if you had to show him yours, then you wanted to see his. You wanted to watch. 

Eren tugged his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping against the low part of his abs. Already, his tip was wetted, needy for anything after going untouched this long, even if it was his own hand. 

He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, working his fist over his cock, faster, until he was jerking himself off for you. His breath, fanning just above your head, went from steady to ragged, his chest tight.

You watched him for a moment, already needing to touch him. You pushed yourself upright, perched so that your knees brushed against his thigh, ready to take him with both hands. 

“Hold on.”

You glanced at him. He fidgeted, like he was about to say something but retracted it immediately. He sounded hesitant, looked even more hesitant, when he asked, “Can you—can you spit in your hand first?”

“Oh, um.” You looked at your open palm and tried your best to collect some saliva in your mouth. It was a little daunting, knowing he was watching as you did it, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

No, he definitely didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. But he wouldn’t admit that to you right now. 

You took him in your hand, mimicking how he did it, with a loose wrist and your grasp slightly firm. When you squeezed over his tip, you heard the sharp inhale it pulled from him, noted how his pelvis flexed. Eren’s hand closed over yours. He was going to show you exactly how he liked it. 

Eren moved your hand for you, gripping it whenever you reached the head of his cock. His pinched breaths turned into groans, his brows hanging low over his keen eyes. That was when he started thrusting, fucking your hand, and nearly forgot where he was—forgot whose hand he was using like his own personal toy.

“Spit on it,” he grunted, that temperate side of him growing unrestrained. 

He didn’t mean to come off so crass, not in front of you, not this soon. It was just that Eren couldn’t remember the last time he came from a handjob, but he was nearly there, with your hands so dainty and velvety around him. Not to mention the spit dribbling from your pretty lips before you spread it down his cock—he was about to lose his last smidgen of composure. 

Thankfully, he remembered the reason why he was here. He had a much bigger agenda than fucking your hand. How could he have forgotten already that he was here for you?

“That’s—ah, shit.” Selfishly, Eren waited for another second before releasing your hand. You continued stroking him eagerly, and it felt wrong to stop you, but he did just that with his hand around your forearm. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep going.”

“Sorry,” you said, your hands now politely to yourself and folded on your lap.

With a short, huffing laugh, he told you, “You do not have to apologize for that. Believe me.”

His chuckle had you smiling again. That closed-mouth, coy smile that he was quickly learning might become the death of him. He straightened out, taking your chin between his fingers to kiss you again.

“Lay back for me,” he whispered. 

You fell into the mess of pillows and tangled sheets, making yourself comfortable while Eren fetched the condom. You didn’t know what the feeling was—trepidation, anticipation, excitement, perhaps all three—but it bubbled in your stomach as you watched him rip the wrapper before rolling on the latex.

He pumped himself a few times as he reminded, “We can stop at any time if you need.”

Eyes wide and fixed onto him—specifically on his cock, which he’d soon gape you on—you asked, “Do we need a safe word?”

He laughed again, through his nose like earlier, but only because you were so agonizingly cute about it. “I think ‘stop’ will work just fine.”

You did that smile again, winding the knot in his stomach more than he even thought possible. Eren was so close to snapping—not like that! Not hurting you, never. More like coming undone, turning into a puddle of himself, finishing humiliatingly early—that sort of snapping. He didn’t know what had him feeling this way, but something about you made him feel like the virgin here. 

He didn’t dare push inside yet, not only for your sake but for his. His eyes, now brazen and alert, scanned over you, staring you straight in the face like a silent check-in. And when you gave him the go-ahead, nothing more than a bobble of your head, slowly, he tilted his hips into yours. 

With you unbelievably tight around him, he stilled with only his tip inside you. Even so, his breath had already hitched in his throat. He couldn’t hold back, he simply couldn’t. And when he gave you a little more, between his eyes flittering shut, he caught the scrunch of your nose. 

There was a stretch, a certain fullness. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it didn’t exactly feel like he belonged in there, either. It was considerate of him to take his time with you, prep you with his fingers and tongue. But even so, with his cock only halfway inside, you had your nails dug deep into his biceps. 

“How’re you doing?” Eren asked. 

“I’m—” You glanced at where your bodies were connecting. There was still more of him to take. “Okay.”

It didn’t appear like he believed you, which was fair because it was a shaky statement at best. “It’s too much?

“A little,” you sheepishly admitted. 

He pulled out of you, and even that made you wince. Your shoulders dropped back to the mattress, every muscle in your body easing up now that he wasn’t bullying inside you. 

"Here.” Eren rolled onto his back. He guided you on top of him, set you so your knees straddled his waist, his cock resting between your legs. Somehow, it looked even longer like that, laid upon his abs. “Let’s try it like this.”

Like this? It felt incredibly vulnerable from up here, where he could see you—in all your glory—bouncy above him. Plus, you hardly knew what you were doing; you had just given your first handjob! If you were being honest, you thought you’d just sort of lay there and take it from him, and now he was expecting you to ride him? It was intimidating, to say the least, even if Eren tried to assure you it wasn’t.

“You have total control this way.”

That was the exact thing you feared. You didn’t want any control. What if you did something wrong? 

Apparently, you didn’t do a great job at masking your worry because Eren immediately placed his hands on your hips, not taking them in his grasp but rubbing his thumbs encouragingly against your skin. 

The entire point of this was to trust him. That was why you were doing this—losing it to Eren, someone who wouldn’t make fun of you. That way, when it really mattered, you wouldn’t royally fuck up. And after getting this far, there was no chance in hell you would end the night a virgin. Well, half-virgin.

Ready to try again, you drew a deep breath, lifting yourself to your knees. Before you reached for him, like the new sexpert that you were, you spat in the palm of your hand, not minding Eren’s eyes this time. You stroked over the condom, mixing its lube with your saliva, then lined his cock up with you. 

Carefully, you sat down. He only reached as deep as before, but the pressure was nowhere near what it once was. You rolled your hips, testing different angles to see what worked best—how you could get more of him, all of him, inside you. 

Eren curved a hand around the nape of your neck, cooing, “Come here.”

He brought you in for a kiss—more than a kiss—his tongue immediately licking into your mouth the second your lips crashed into his, tasting every one of your contented, little hums.

He snaked a hand between your legs, lazily thumbing over your clit until your lips were unable to match his fervency. It was more like you were moaning against his mouth, right into it, sharing each of his breathers until your cheeks sweltered. He melted you from the inside out, softening you up like butter until you were flush against his pelvis—as easy as that. Cautiously, you started rocking your hips.

“That’s it,” Eren whispered into the corner of your mouth.

With quivering arms, you held yourself up with your palms pressed into his chest. Perched proudly atop him, the tip of his cock reached deeper, filling you deeper than anything else had before. It stole your breath, almost like you felt him in your throat.

Eren admired how your mouth fell into an adorable ‘o’ before you started moving. As though a switch had flipped, you were suddenly rolling your hips against him—slowly, of course—repeatedly having him hit that delicious spot again as you indulgently chased after your third orgasm.

“You’re doing so good, taking me well for—for your first time.”

Shit. Eren remembered he was taking your virginity. 

He inhaled sharply, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his voice gave way, or how his cock jolted inside you when he realized he was the first to have you like this. His cock was the first to fill you, stretch you, mold you to accommodate him. Only him. 

“Do what feels good for you, baby.”

The pet name slipped past him before he could wrangle it back, but you didn’t seem to catch it. Or, at least, you didn’t mind. 

No, you were too busy to hear him, more occupied with getting a feel for what you liked best. Eren let you use his cock freely because—what, was he supposed to stop you? Fuck no. He would let you continue forever if you desired it, so long as you’d continue gifting him with such lovely and lewd expressions—the sweet curl of your lip, the knit of your determined brows as your thighs had surely started to burn.

But, boy, it was quite the challenge, letting you have your way with him. You could only keep your pace for a moment or two before you’d take a break. Such a fucking tease, and you didn’t even know it. It was endearing how worn out you were from everything that came before this, and all Eren wanted was to dig his heels into your bed, pound away at that tight pussy of yours, and show you just how wonderful he could make you feel. 

It was a test of strength for him, whether he could hold back or not, because finally, you looked like you were enjoying yourself on his cock. You took him with short strokes, a simple tilt of your hips back and forth once you realized you could grind your clit into his pelvis.

He could tell you were close, from the way you fluttered around him to the gasps getting caught in your throat from the added, and absolutely euphoric, pressure. 

“Just like that. Keep going. Make yourself come for me.” 

The gravel in Eren’s voice pushed you closer to the edge. There was a growl to it, and you could feel it vibrate through you. You tossed your head back with a cry loud enough to wake a neighbor, as you shoved a hand between your legs, desperate to come. 

Eren shushed you dotingly, but there was a grin on his face as he placed his sticky palm against your mouth. “Can’t let them hear us now, can we?”

He felt your heady breath as you panted, trying to reach your peak. When you couldn’t ride him any longer, your hips an erratic sputter, he beamed up at you, slack-jawed smile and all, and said, “Feel good? Need some help?”

Too overwhelmed, you couldn’t even nod your head. You babbled uselessly.

“Want me to fuck you, just a little? Get you coming on my cock?”

“Yes, please—oh, God, Eren.”

When he started to move, thrusting into you ever so slightly, you were already scratching your nails down his chest. It was no bother to him, though. He only wanted you to do it again.

When you came, you squeezed him so perfectly that he thought he might explode. It was taking his last bit of self-control to fuck you at such a steady and slow pace when, in reality, he only wanted to hammer into you. Eren felt like he was moments away from boiling over. His face was burning, and he could feel the sweat beading in his hairline from this aching, pent-up desire within him. After fingering you, going down on you—no, after days of fantasizing about you—he needed release.

Even you could see it—the unmistakable flush of his face now spreading to the base of his neck and spanning his chest. As blissed out as you were, limply collapsed on top of him, you mumbled against his skin, “Eren, I want you to come, too.”

And how could he turn that down? Now that you had come three times, he figured he could finally have his turn. 

“I’m gonna go a bit faster now. You tell me if that’s okay or not.”

Before he could even flinch, you assured him, “It’s okay. I want you to.”

The soft laziness of your voice, the dreaminess seeping through it like syrup—it was too much. 

Eren took you by the hips first, holding your body pliant for him to thrust into. He started with long drags of his cock, letting his tip kiss your entrance before stuffing himself back inside you. Each time he bottomed out, he bit back every vulgar curse he wanted to hiss into your ear. 

Then, he flattened his hands against your back, folding you into him with his palms seared into your shoulder blades. Your face was smothered in the crook of his neck as he fucked up into you. The bed began to squeak, like a mockery of your tiny bleats.

“You all right?” Eren asked, his voice hoarse.

You only made an affirmative sound that got muffled as you burrowed against him. With your chest warm, like a tingling between your lungs, and your head stuck somewhere in the clouds, you took him in a speechless, almost surreal, bliss. How fiercely he needed you, if only for a blip in time, was intoxicating.

And in that fleeting moment, the sin of it, the forbiddenness surrounding you, had vanished. Eren was sure it would rear itself again, that was for certain. He could predict the ripple of guilt that’d course through him once he inevitably faced what he’d done. But even if it meant betraying his best friend, he couldn’t find it within himself to regret it.

Especially when he realized how fucking good it felt to come inside you. With his arms locked around your waist, your entire body smushed against his, he snapped his hips into you, as if he could possibly fuck you any deeper. He emptied himself into the condom as a groan tore through his throat, the hum of it against the shell of your ear like a final shudder down your spine. 

He pulled out of you, faintly cursing as he did. You flopped at his side, entirely spent, and stared at the ceiling with fuzzy, unfocused vision. The rush of adrenaline was on a steep comedown, and you were already starting to feel it. Sore, but extremely satisfied. 

“You should probably go to the bathroom—to pee and stuff,” Eren said, that familiar, boyish side already returning in full force. 

Pee. Got it.

You only muttered a ‘yeah’ before you redressed and tip-toed off to the bathroom down the hallway. There, you wiped yourself clean, forced yourself to pee, and gave yourself a good long look in the mirror.

In just one night, you had hit every base. By definition, a home run, in your book—and with your brother’s ‘cute friend,’ at that. 

You were shocked to see Eren was still there when you returned to your bedroom. He had on his boxers and tee already, stepping into his sweatpants as you opened the door. He gave you a soft smile as you hopped into your bed. 

Then, even more surprisingly, he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Eren knew he should leave unless he hoped to get caught. Still, he thought it was the right thing to say.

You giggled, “I think my brother would kill you if he found you in here.”

He laughed along with you, but when it settled, he crawled beneath your sheets anyway.

Though you felt uncertain about it, he consoled it away with, “Don’t worry. I’ll just hang here until you fall asleep.” You at least deserved that.

He turned the light off and let you rest your head against his chest, your arm looped around his waist. You didn't know where the urge to cuddle came from, and neither did he, but he didn't question it. It was comfortable, even as he waited for that pang of guilt to hit.

But it never did. And once he heard your breathing taper to a peaceful drone, he slipped out of your bed and snuck back down to the basement. That stupid air mattress felt a whole lot more comfortable now.

Finally, Eren had scratched the itch he couldn't kick, just to get it out of his system. Now, there was absolutely no way he'd think of you again—not that kittenish little smile nor how you curled against him in your sleep—and definitely not while you were three hours away at school…

Right?

You planned to move away to college at the end of the summer, finally. Your school of choice was a three-hour drive from home. To you, it was the perfect distance. Just far enough to give you some much-needed space, but still within reason for a weekend visit if needed. You wouldn’t know anyone there, but that was what you were looking forward to the most, actually. It would be a fresh start.

You never did get the ‘fresh start’ that everyone talked about. You know, the new beginnings that came with every school year. You always tried to be optimistic about it but each time, without fail, your teachers scowled when they saw your last name on their rosters. They all knew your older brother Collin—very well, unfortunately.

His reputation preceded you as a punk who was sent to the principal’s office for acting out in class time and time again. Out of the classroom, too—in the hallways, on the football field after hours. Even in the parking lot when he got into a fender bender with his English teacher his senior year. You were cursed with the same teacher last semester and learned the hard way that she had a habit of holding grudges. 

But that was beside the point. What you were trying to say was: you were ready for college. More than ready. Giddy and practically vibrating with excitement, marking the days off on your calendar until move-in week. Until you could finally quit your lousy summer job at the ice cream shop, waiting on old folk that never knew what they wanted and didn’t bother tipping. 

Still, there was just one teensy little thing you were hoping to get out of the way before freshman year. But now that it was only a few weeks away—twenty-three days, but who’s counting?—it was starting to feel more like a pipe dream.

At the end of the day, there was no point throwing a tizzy over going to college a virgin. Surely, you wouldn’t be the only one.

Right?

Your parents had left for their annual end-of-summer trip down to the beach to visit your grandparents for a week. It used to be a family event, but now that you and Collin were deemed old enough, you had more say in whether you tagged along or not. 

Collin had skipped out the last two summers, but this was the first year you were allowed to stay home, too, now that you were eighteen. But what you didn’t expect was that his three best friends would be there with the two of you—for the better half of the week, at that. Apparently, since they had done it the last two years, it had become a tradition, as they put it. Honestly, you were just impressed Collin was able to pull it off without your parents catching on, considering he was never one to clean the house when you were kids. 

No matter, though; it didn’t bother you much. They had been your brother’s friends since they were in the eighth grade. Having them around was nothing new to you. Of course, it was more fun when you were younger—back when you could play Mario Party together and force Collin to sit out. Now, there wasn’t nearly as much in common besides the occasional tormenting of your brother. 

So, the four of them did their thing, and you did yours.

But therein lies the problem. Even while you did you minded your business, someone just couldn’t seem to mind theirs. He couldn’t prevent his thoughts from wandering back to you—couldn’t prevent his eyes from lingering longer than they should.

It wasn’t Armin. He would never dare to look at you that way, the girl he tutored in algebra. Nor was it Jean, hopelessly consumed with texting his classmate, still determined as ever to win her over.

No, it was Eren. 'The cute one,’ as coined by you and your friends once he hit his growth spurt and grew out his hair. Though Eren was unaware of the epithet, this would be the year he’d unknowingly return the sentiment, thinking of you as Collin's very cute sister.

Eren was gone last summer, away at an internship, so it had been a couple of years since he’d last seen you. And you appeared to have—ahem—really grown into yourself, to put it delicately. 

Listen, it was harmless. It wasn’t like Eren planned on feeling this way toward you. He didn’t think twice about it when Collin said you’d be at his place, too. And there was no way in hell he’d act on it. He wouldn’t even dare to let the thoughts hang around in his mind, consistently shoving them aside before they could permeate. You were Collin’s—his best friend’s—sister. More than that, you were his little sister! 

He thought he was being discreet about it, but man, did you have to make it so tough? Did you really need to lay out by your parents’ pool every single day? Jeez. As a matter of fact, when was the last time it rained? This had to be the longest they’d been without it, now that Eren was thinking about it.

Back to the point here: Eren was, in fact, not remotely discreet. Armin brought it to his attention as they went to grab another beer. You happened to pop into the kitchen at the same time, just to grab a snack, and damn it, why did you have next to nothing on? Like, yeah, the place was a little warm tonight, and it was your house and all, but seriously? Tiny shorts rolled high on your waist and a tank top that looked extra clingy as you reached for a cup on the top shelf. 

“You can’t be serious,” Armin grumbled to Eren. Once you were gone, obviously. 

Eren should have known what Armin was referencing, but he was dumb to it, wholly convinced he had been treading carefully. “What do you—”

“You can’t bang Collin’s sister!”

Who even says ‘bang’ anymore?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.” Eren innocently held his palms up, waving them as if he could shake off the wicked accusation. “That’s a little far now, isn’t it?”

Armin was getting ahead of himself again; even Eren hadn’t let his mind wander past that boundary… yet. 

Armin gave him a look, like he knew better than to take Eren’s word at face value. “Well, it sure looks like you’re trying to bang his sister.”

“Who’s trying to bang who’s sister?”

Both Eren and Armin jumped at the voice, heads spinning like they were on a swivel to find Collin. He emerged from the basement, Jean trailing behind with a suspicious, low-browed expression.  

“Oh,” Eren stammered. He had to come up with something fast because he wasn’t about to leave it to Armin, the notoriously awful liar. “Armin was just telling me about some porn he watched the other night.” Eren shrugged. “You know, where the guy tries to bang someone’s sister.”

Armin glared at Eren for throwing him under the bus but reluctantly went along with the lie. “Yeah, and then he, uh… bangs the sister?”

Idiot, Eren couldn’t help but think. Whatever, it seemed to work well enough. Collin stared back at them like they were no better than a couple of horny morons. Jean dismissed it, too. Or at least, it didn’t bother him enough to let it interfere with him going for another beer.

With the crisis only half-averted, the four returned to the basement with freshly-cracked cans of beer in tow, where they would spend the rest of the night playing video games until they eventually passed out.

Well, at least three of them did. 

Eren couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t anything new. He battled with insomnia from time to time. Tossing and turning on a wobbly air mattress didn’t make it any easier to fall asleep, and with the basement only marginally cooler than the rest of the house, he thought he might as well get a glass of water. 

Unluckily (luckily?) for him, he was interrupted before he could do just that. The sight of you, simply existing, lounged up on the couch, startled him. 

Someone’s jumpy tonight. You giggled when he cursed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” Eren asked.

You lightheartedly taunted, “Last time I checked, I live here, don’t I?”

He made a face at you, lacking the amusement your voice carried. “You know what I meant. Why are you still awake?”

It was the first time Eren had bumped into you. Not the first time ever, obviously; you had been alone together on countless occasions. But this was different, never this late at night before, and it was the only time it’d been just the two of you since he’d thought about you like that. 

“Do I need a reason?” you airly replied, almost on a yawn as you stretched. “It’s summer break, and I don’t have work tomorrow.”

He didn’t offer more than a nod of acknowledgment before moseying across the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. Unsure of where this was going, you reached for the remote and paused your show.

“What are you guys doing down there?”

“They’re all asleep,” Eren answered. He stood idly in the middle of the room because, like you, he was curious as to where this was heading.

“And you’re not asleep because…?”

No, he couldn’t think like that. This was going nowhere. 

“I came to grab some water,” he hurried to say—or at least, you thought it sounded hurried—and disappeared into the kitchen right after. 

You listened for a moment, fingers dancing on the button of the remote as you debated starting your show again. But when the faucet flicked off, he didn’t return to the basement in the apparent rush he was in. Instead, he stayed there, with you. 

Eren sipped his water, thinking of what to say next. It was an uphill battle because there wasn’t anything to say. There was no reason he needed to start a conversation with you. And yet, there he was, leaned up against the wall, dumbly scratching at his midriff as he racked—

Wait. Were you checking him out?

If there was one thing Eren had learned at college—let’s be real here, he had a nasty habit of skipping class—it was that he did pretty well for himself when it came to girls. Decent enough, he’d say. He at least had enough sense to know when a chick was interested in him. And now that you had creaked that door open, ogled at where his hand had lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach, he didn’t really have another choice but to step inside and explore around. Just a bit. 

Armin’s warning blared in the back of Eren’s head. As luck would have it, his conscience tended to have Armin’s voice. But there wasn’t anything wrong with casual conversation, was there? After all, he had known you for years. 

“So, are you excited to leave for college soon?”

Nope. There was no turning back now. 

You perked up in your seat. “Yeah, for sure. It’ll be nice to go somewhere new. Meet new people, make new friends—”

“Maybe you’ll finally find your Fabio.”

There was a joke there, unfortunately. One you hadn’t heard in so long that you cringed at the memory.

As Collin’s sister, his friends were first-hand witnesses to your boy crazy phase, all your dating flops. Perhaps they had even learned you were quite the hopeless romantic. And by that, you meant Jean had found a smutty novel you had stolen from your mom—yes, it even had the signature Fabio-esque cover, hence the joke. Anyway, he read it aloud in front of your brother and the rest of their friends until Armin snatched the book from him, which somehow made the whole ordeal even worse. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you offhandedly chuckled. “I was sort of hoping that would happen before college, but you know—I’m sure plenty of people go to college inexperienced.”

Your voice trailed off there at the end, almost like the notion really bothered you. Eren scrutinized it, this thing you handed him. It was a conversational game of hot potato—something you had shoved his way and forced him to hold onto. Why were you bringing this up? Were you looking for his advice?

Eren set down his glass and moved to sit by you on the couch. The far side of it. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed and kicking yourself for having said anything in the first place. But your abruptness sounded just as bad, so with a sigh, you said, “I mean, I guess. I don’t want people to think I’m a loser for being a virgin.”

Again, why were you mentioning this to him? Eren felt like he was playing with fire. He knew he was going to wind up burnt the longer he stayed, maybe even scorching everything around him, even you, in the process. 

Still, he poked it, added some kindling because he was unwilling to let it die out. “I think there’s a fairly simple solution to that.”

“What, getting laid? I think I know that,” you scoffed. “And it’s easy for you to say that, looking like—” You loosely waved your hand over the length of him. “You. Believe it or not, I don’t exactly have suitors lining up outside my door.”

Okay, so he was picking up on something here. He wasn’t crazy. You said it then: you found him attractive. And he found you attractive. Extremely so, if that wasn’t obvious already. The answer was easy enough; he might as well go on say it outright then.

“What if I did it?” Eren suggested.

You didn’t know what he meant by it, his casualness throwing you for a loop. Surely, he couldn’t be talking about that. 

“You know, took your virginity.”

Oh. There was no mistaking it now. He was, without a doubt, talking about that. 

And why were you considering it?

Your brother’s friends, Eren included, had taught you all sorts of things before, things they probably shouldn’t have. They told you to flush the toilet to mask your squeaky front door if you planned on sneaking out. Taught you how to roll a joint, and how to take a proper hit after you confessed you had never ‘felt high’ when you smoked. So, would this be any different?

While you mulled it over, Eren took the far-away look behind your eyes as a horrible sign. He realized how insane the proposition sounded once he spoke it into existence. Before he could take it back, play it off as a joke—he had one too many beers, that’s all—you piped up.

“Really?”

He certainly didn’t expect that, stammering, “I—yeah. Why not?”

Another lengthy pause passed before you accused, “Are you just fucking with me?”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” He started rambling then, a jumbled mix of ‘I just—’ and ‘I shouldn’t have—’ until you decidedly cut him off.

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“I said okay. You can… take my virginity.” It felt like a strange way to say it, too formal. And to say it to Eren of all people, who would have guessed it?

Then again, maybe this was the most logical outcome. It wasn’t like you needed to make a big deal of losing your virginity. You weren’t looking for something romantic, with rose petals or a waterbed or any of that corny-porny crap. You were just looking to get it out of the way. That way, when you inevitably meet the love of your life in college (okay, so maybe you were a hopeless romantic), you wouldn’t embarrass yourself the first time you hooked up. 

“Okay,” Eren replied on his inhale, a breath sucked through his teeth, like it was a sin to say aloud. 

He scooted closer, sitting on the cushion that once separated you. You expected him to kiss you, even leaning into him with closed eyes, but your lips barely brushed into his. He didn’t come any closer than that.

Lowly, he asked you, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded. Your noses bumped.

“I need to hear it.”

“I trust you,” you said, even quieter than him. You could barely hear it over the sound of your heart, thumping so hard you swore it might burst into your throat.

Eren kissed you then, tentatively, with his hand cradling the side of your face. He didn’t move until you did, and when you returned the kiss, he followed while letting you take lead.

It didn’t last long, though. You jumped away from each other, back to the opposite sides of the couch, when the basement door squeaked open. The panic subsided when you caught the bright eyes of your family’s cat, her little head poking out from the shadows.

You held a hand to your chest, steadying your breath and trying to settle your rapid heartbeat, as if both were possible. When you met Eren’s gaze, he was already staring at you with a brittle sort of look. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he regret what he had done with you? You didn’t, and you prayed he didn’t either.

Before you had the chance to ask, he finally said, “Should we go to your room?”

“Good idea.”

He knew where your room was, but still, he followed right behind you anyway. At the top of the staircase, just before your bedroom door, you split. You turned to see Eren sneaking into Collin’s room. A minute passed while you listened to his rustling, but when he returned, held between his two fingers was that infamous, shiny foil.

You frowned, hard. “I’m not going to use one of my brother’s condoms.”

“Do you have one then?” Eren asked, already well aware of your answer.

“Fine.” 

Eren had never been in your bedroom before. It felt foreign, and weirdly wrong, to have him in there. He looked out of place for it, too big, too mature, especially as you looked at all your girlish knick-knacks and old photos. You wished you could tuck everything away into some lonely drawer. 

You avoided Eren’s eyes and fixed your attention on adjusting the lights. Your bright ceiling light was far too unforgiving for this, so you switched it out for your bedside lamp. The drone of the old bulb buzzed in the back of your ears, its light a fizzy yellow.

You were nervous. Eren didn’t need to see your face to know it was written all across it. Not that it surprised him, considering this was about to be your first time having sex, and it would be with him. 

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, the sick feeling you get on a rollercoaster, but somehow you want to ride again. Maybe he was just as nervous as you. You had put your trust in him, enough to take your virginity. Handing it to him as if it were some sentimental treasure he could watch over, for safekeeping. 

Sure, he knew the optics were bad. Not just bad but horrendous, actually. He was about to sleep with his best friend’s younger sister, a recently eighteen-year-old virgin. The whole situation sounded no better than a second-rate porno—like the one he had made up with Armin in the kitchen, ha!

This was as much a blessing straight from heaven as it was a curse. But he couldn’t care about the optics now, not with you taking a seat on the bed, looking over at him with these come-and-get-me eyes that may or may not have been intentional. 

No, this wasn’t a curse at all. If it were so wrong of him, then why was it that he already felt his cock straining against his sweats at the mere thought? The thought of how delicate he’d be with you. He needed to be, for the last thing he wanted was to ruin your first time. He’d be the first to show you what pleasure could be with another person—what you were deserving of before going off and letting other boys touch you.

He set the condom on the nightstand and joined you at the edge of your bed, his knee barely grazing yours. He was about to ask if he could kiss you again, but you entirely side-skipped any conversation by picking up right where the two of you had left off. 

Again, Eren relinquished control to you, but he did take the initiative to swipe his tongue into your mouth. You tasted him, the bittersweet flavor of light beer. He was nothing like the last boy you kissed. He didn’t ram his tongue down your throat but kissed you as though he wanted to taste you, to muse over and memorize you. And you let him, lips languidly caressing one another with little point or purpose, solely running on instinct. 

You balled his shirt in your fist, twisted the fabric of it between your hands to have him close—closer. He hoisted you onto his lap with his hands at your waist, and you went along with him more than willing. You draped your hands over his shoulders, crossing them at the wrist, and didn’t let your lips break from his once. 

He smoothed his palms up and down the small of your back until he eventually ventured lower. He gripped at your ass, pulling you down to grind over him. Just once, so you could feel him, how achingly hard he was for you. Then, you did it again all on your own. Lightheaded and teeming with desire, the pressure against your clit, even through your layers of clothing, was an addicting relief. You moved against him, again and again, until you were dragging yourself over him, practically about get off from that alone. 

But Eren didn’t let that happen. Before you get there, Eren used his hold on your hips to stall you. His voice was a mumble against your mouth as he asked you, “How far have you gone?”

“This,” you professed. “This is the farthest I’ve gone.”

Fuck.

“Okay.” It was the word of the night. Eren breathed it out like he was talking to himself. The type of sigh you’d give yourself in the mirror when trying to calm down, which was precisely his goal.

He lifted you with little effort, had you lie back into the pillows before he crawled on top of you. He kissed at your jawline, then placed another on the side of your neck. He left a few of them there. It was all lip, all wispy, like he could break you. Still, you felt each of them like a spark at the base of your spine. 

His fingers trailed lower, tickling over your collarbone but stopping short of the neckline of your tank top. 

“Is it all right if I touch you here?” he asked, punctuating it by running a hand down your breast, over your shirt.

“Yes,” you whispered with a shudder. 

With the confirmation, he massaged lightly, his thumb caressing over your perked nipple. 

He kissed you again, his tongue meeting yours while he rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your back arched instinctively, wanting more—needing more. He listened to your body, learning as he went, and tugged down your tank top. With nothing between you, he lightly pinched at your nipple, pulling a whine from you, one that didn’t get the chance to meet the air.

Eren kissed the side of your face. “Can I kiss you there?” he muttered, referencing your tits as he gave another squeeze. He pressed another kiss, lower, against your throat.

“Mhm,” was all you managed with a voice that was long gone, lost somewhere in the opened-mouth kisses he left along the dip between your chest. 

It tickled a bit when he flicked over your nipple with his tongue—even more when he latched onto it with his mouth. You were wiggly beneath him, driving him wild, and you didn’t even know it. It was sweet how sensitive you were, his mouth being the first to kiss you there, to learn the taste of your skin. So soft. And warm, too, heating up the longer he sucked at your tits, anywhere he pleased.

Eren kept his hand at your waist, palming over your stomach but never risking any lower than that. His touch was heated, urgent, yet he only showed restraint. 

He pulled back from you, letting his face hover inches above yours when he asked, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

He was strangely calm for asking such a personal question, setting your face ablaze. Too rushed, you replied, “Of course I have.”

What did he think? That because you were a virgin, you hadn’t thought about sex before? Hadn’t ever watched porn? Yes, you hadn’t actually done it, but it wasn’t as though you were heading into the situation blind.

“Then—” You, the sight of you wriggling out of your sleep shorts, interrupted him. You caught the bob of his throat when he swallowed, but you weren’t sure he was trying that hard to hide it. “Show me how you do it.”

Eren sat back on his knees, just shy of sitting between your legs as you rested against the pillows. The only thing separating him from you was a thin pair of panties. You hoped he didn’t notice your jittery fingers as you slipped them beneath the band.

You started, “This is—”

“It’s not embarrassing,” he interrupted. It only made you more anxious, like he could read your mind or something. But he was genuine as he said it, assuring you even while struggling to maintain eye contact, his attention flitting from your face to between your legs. “Show me how I can make you come.”

How could he possibly be so open about this? There wasn’t even a shred of hesitation or shame in his voice. You wondered how many people he’d been with—how many times he’d rehearsed before he could speak with such confidence? Enough confidence to have you listening loyally and plunging your hand beneath your underwear. 

You pressed the pads of your fingers against your clit and started to rub. Slowly at first, but already, just that smidgen of relief was enough to pull a flimsy sound from you. You were sensitive, throbbing, and so incredibly turned on that you didn’t hide even as he unabashedly stared at you with pure infatuation. 

Eren rested a hand on your leg, sliding higher and reaching for your panties. “Can I take these off?”

You stopped only to help him work them down your leg, shimmying until he had them thrown to the foot of the bed. You were hesitant to spread your legs again, but he did it for you, placing one at each of his sides. He took your hand and returned it between your thighs, eager for you to continue. So you did just that. 

There wasn’t any doubt he could see everything now—how wet you were, how it coated your fingers the longer you rubbed, the tighter your little circles became. But you were too wrapped up in it to care, playing with yourself just as indecently as you would if you were alone. You couldn’t even be bothered to stifle the chant of gasps spilling from you.

“Can you put a finger inside for me?” Eren requested.

You nodded and pushed one inside, felt how you pulsed around it. You moved it in and out, the same way you had done many times before. 

“Yeah, like that,” he murmured. You heard the ‘fuck’ he cursed under his breath. “How’s that feel?”

“Good,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Try a little faster.”

You did just that and bit back a whimper.

“Add another.”

He needed you stretched. He needed you ready for him. 

You took your second finger well; you had done that before, too.

“You’re doing so good,” he told you. He leaned into you, closing in. “Can I help you now?”

“Please,” you breathed. You slipped your fingers from you, giving Eren access to do with you as he wished.

But he didn’t reach for you. Not there, at least. He held his fingers before your mouth.

“Open up.”

You weren’t sure what he was after, but you obeyed, lusty enough that you found you were trusting him implicitly. He placed his middle and index fingers against your tongue, telling you, “Get them nice and wet for me.”

You sucked on them lightly. Saliva pooled on the back of your tongue as he pressed down. He pulled them from your mouth with a lewd sound and smiled at you. It made your chest swell a bit.

Eren returned to your side. His presence was engulfing as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. It surprised you, the intimacy of it, but you didn’t have any time for second-guessing before he urged, “Keep going.”

You returned to circling your clit as his hand met yours. He traced his pointer finger through you, and every muscle in your body tensed.

“Can I?”

“Yes,” you said, practically a moan.

He slipped it inside you, taking his time with it. His finger was much larger than your own, thicker, reaching deeper than yours had ever gone. Your stomach tightened at the intrusion, trying to adjust. 

“That okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was better than okay. “More. Please.”

Eren chuckled warmly. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curving it just right to have you squirming in his arms. You were beginning to understand why he was holding you now. He wanted to keep you still so that, once he figured out what you liked, he could maintain his pace through your needy bucking. 

He had a hand on your head, petting over you as he asked, “You close?” You couldn’t respond because he added a second finger. A hiss left you, but it melted into a satisfied whine. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you whispered against him, his body dizzyingly hot even through his T-shirt. 

It was becoming quite the task to keep your fingers moving, what with Eren’s fingers hitting a spot that you didn’t even know existed, over and over again. It had you—fuck—it had you coming. So hard that you thoughtlessly rode his hand, eyes screwing shut as you fucked yourself deeper on his fingers, prolonging the bliss however you could until you turned to goo in his arms. 

You were panting against his chest, your body still twitchy, when he started to ask, “Did you—”

“Yes,” you said on a drawn-out exhale. 

He pecked your forehead. You still felt the stamp of it as he moved to get back on top. He held himself above you with hands planted on either side of you, kissing you full on the mouth. Still hazy, you didn’t move much, letting him make out with you all he wanted until his lips traveled down to the dip behind your ear, then the delicate crook of your neck.

He bunched your tank higher up your chest until you both tore it over your head. With it out of his way, Eren continued kissing lower—even lower than before. His breath tickled over your nipples, leaving you a needy, rutting mess—for what exactly, you didn’t know, just more.

“Too much?” Eren asked, looking up at you with his big, green eyes.

“No,” you assured, your mouth agape and in awe of him. “I like it.”

He pressed his smile against your skin, kissing and licking his way down your sternum.

When he reached your navel, you asked, “What are you—”

“Making sure you’re ready.” He kissed your hipbone.

“It’s really okay,” you said, slightly wary. “We should just get this over with, right?”

“What if I don’t want to get this over with?” Eren kissed just above your slit. “What if I want to take my time?”

Eren wanted you as comfortable—as relaxed—as possible. And since he was already about to fuck his friend’s younger sister, with one of his condoms nonetheless, he certainly wasn’t going to dig around for his friend’s lube next. Luckily, there was another, more fun, way that he could ensure you were properly lubricated so as to avoid any pain that may arise from him splitting you on his—

Focus. 

“I need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t,” Eren said, a reminder more to himself than for you. 

You gasped, almost choked, when he kissed the top of your thigh, then the inner part of it. 

“Can you do that for me?”

“Eren, I—” 

“Please.” He licked a broad stripe up the crease of your thigh. That alone had your head thrown back against your pillow, a tiny ‘oh’ escaping you. “Let me. I want to.”

“You do?” you timidly asked.

“So badly,” he replied, but it sounded more like an admission. A white flag of surrender, like he was letting himself fully give in to his desires because, yes, he had thought about this before. There was no use in lying about it now. 

“O-okay.”

On that, he returned to teasing his way between your legs, kissing from the delicate flesh of your inner thighs to—

“Wait!” you interjected. Eren immediately looked to you like he had done something wrong, but you quelled his worry with, “Can you get undressed, too? Like, at least your shirt.”

Your request didn’t sound nearly as self-assured as his, but he listened to you nonetheless. He sat back to peel off his shirt. He smiled at you softly. “Better?”

You scanned over his toned torso, sun-kissed and tanned from summer. Definitely better. “Thanks.”

He leaned over you, his mouth inches from your pussy as he murmured, “It’ll feel good.” Then he kissed your entrance, and the sensation of it jolted through your body like lightning. “Promise.” 

Eren parted you with his fingers before licking through you, letting the newfound feeling sink in deep. His tongue was warm, wet, and exceedingly gentle—nothing like his fingers or even your own. You couldn’t begin to describe it, but that might be because, after a second lap of his tongue, you were already losing any and all coherency. 

You made a few strained sounds, flowery and pathetic, but supported yourself on trembling elbows to watch. When you met Eren’s eyes, he only stopped licking at you to say, “Tell me what feels good.”

“Everything.” The word tumbled out of your mouth desperately. “Everything feels good.”

You felt his laugh just before he closed his mouth back over you. He continued having his way with you, sucking and licking at you, saliva and slick making a mess of his pretty face as he staggered kisses between his laps. Whenever his lips brushed against your clit, your legs would flex tight. He hooked his arms around them, laying them over his strong shoulders. You felt the way his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, locking them in place while he circled his lips around your clit with more pressure than before.

“Ah—oh,” you moaned, your back leaving the bed to press your pussy further into his face, as if you could have him any closer—you know, until you’d have him inside you. But that would come soon enough.

Eren didn’t ask this time; he knew exactly how he was making you feel. And you were thankful for it because you couldn’t dream of him stopping. You needed more, lacing a hand through his locks and pulling lightly, encouraging him. He groaned against you, clearly liking it, so you did it again.

He was sloppy with it while still… thoughtful? That didn’t feel like the correct word for it, but even as he made out with the most intimate part of you, he did it with intention, doing that thing again, whatever it was, with his tongue pointed, because he had quickly learned you liked it. No, he showed you that you liked it. Loved it, actually; it was excruciatingly evident by the breathless sounds you made. 

And when Eren paired his tongue with his sucking lips, swirling it against your clit, you came with your own hand clamped over your mouth. Your entire body gained a pulse of its own. It was much stronger than your first orgasm and longer-lasting, too. The muscles of your stomach wound and released while you rode out your high, Eren groaning against you just as pleasedly. 

Only once you were no longer propped on your elbows but flopped against the bed did Eren let up. Your thighs were still trembling as he kissed a pathway back to your side. You both sat with heaving chests, though yours much heavier than his, and you were beginning to question how you were supposed to go for another round. You hadn’t even reached the—for lack of a better word—main event yet. Truthfully, you expected Eren to throw you to your bed, pop your metaphorical cherry, and be done with it. But now you had already orgasmed twice and he still had his sweatpants on. 

You should probably do something about that, shouldn’t you?

“I wanna touch you, too.”

While innocent, it was the most you had communicated with him this far, so he didn’t stop you when you reached for him. He was more than ready for it. 

You explored him a bit, tracing over his length and discovering what touches made him twitch beneath your touch, still as chaste as ever. 

“Show me,” you purred.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do—a hand job was far from rocket science. It was more like if you had to show him yours, then you wanted to see his. You wanted to watch. 

Eren tugged his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping against the low part of his abs. Already, his tip was wetted, needy for anything after going untouched this long, even if it was his own hand. 

He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, working his fist over his cock, faster, until he was jerking himself off for you. His breath, fanning just above your head, went from steady to ragged, his chest tight.

You watched him for a moment, already needing to touch him. You pushed yourself upright, perched so that your knees brushed against his thigh, ready to take him with both hands. 

“Hold on.”

You glanced at him. He fidgeted, like he was about to say something but retracted it immediately. He sounded hesitant, looked even more hesitant, when he asked, “Can you—can you spit in your hand first?”

“Oh, um.” You looked at your open palm and tried your best to collect some saliva in your mouth. It was a little daunting, knowing he was watching as you did it, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

No, he definitely didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. But he wouldn’t admit that to you right now. 

You took him in your hand, mimicking how he did it, with a loose wrist and your grasp slightly firm. When you squeezed over his tip, you heard the sharp inhale it pulled from him, noted how his pelvis flexed. Eren’s hand closed over yours. He was going to show you exactly how he liked it. 

Eren moved your hand for you, gripping it whenever you reached the head of his cock. His pinched breaths turned into groans, his brows hanging low over his keen eyes. That was when he started thrusting, fucking your hand, and nearly forgot where he was—forgot whose hand he was using like his own personal toy.

“Spit on it,” he grunted, that temperate side of him growing unrestrained. 

He didn’t mean to come off so crass, not in front of you, not this soon. It was just that Eren couldn’t remember the last time he came from a handjob, but he was nearly there, with your hands so dainty and velvety around him. Not to mention the spit dribbling from your pretty lips before you spread it down his cock—he was about to lose his last smidgen of composure. 

Thankfully, he remembered the reason why he was here. He had a much bigger agenda than fucking your hand. How could he have forgotten already that he was here for you?

“That’s—ah, shit.” Selfishly, Eren waited for another second before releasing your hand. You continued stroking him eagerly, and it felt wrong to stop you, but he did just that with his hand around your forearm. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep going.”

“Sorry,” you said, your hands now politely to yourself and folded on your lap.

With a short, huffing laugh, he told you, “You do not have to apologize for that. Believe me.”

His chuckle had you smiling again. That closed-mouth, coy smile that he was quickly learning might become the death of him. He straightened out, taking your chin between his fingers to kiss you again.

“Lay back for me,” he whispered. 

You fell into the mess of pillows and tangled sheets, making yourself comfortable while Eren fetched the condom. You didn’t know what the feeling was—trepidation, anticipation, excitement, perhaps all three—but it bubbled in your stomach as you watched him rip the wrapper before rolling on the latex.

He pumped himself a few times as he reminded, “We can stop at any time if you need.”

Eyes wide and fixed onto him—specifically on his cock, which he’d soon gape you on—you asked, “Do we need a safe word?”

He laughed again, through his nose like earlier, but only because you were so agonizingly cute about it. “I think ‘stop’ will work just fine.”

You did that smile again, winding the knot in his stomach more than he even thought possible. Eren was so close to snapping—not like that! Not hurting you, never. More like coming undone, turning into a puddle of himself, finishing humiliatingly early—that sort of snapping. He didn’t know what had him feeling this way, but something about you made him feel like the virgin here. 

He didn’t dare push inside yet, not only for your sake but for his. His eyes, now brazen and alert, scanned over you, staring you straight in the face like a silent check-in. And when you gave him the go-ahead, nothing more than a bobble of your head, slowly, he tilted his hips into yours. 

With you unbelievably tight around him, he stilled with only his tip inside you. Even so, his breath had already hitched in his throat. He couldn’t hold back, he simply couldn’t. And when he gave you a little more, between his eyes flittering shut, he caught the scrunch of your nose. 

There was a stretch, a certain fullness. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it didn’t exactly feel like he belonged in there, either. It was considerate of him to take his time with you, prep you with his fingers and tongue. But even so, with his cock only halfway inside, you had your nails dug deep into his biceps. 

“How’re you doing?” Eren asked. 

“I’m—” You glanced at where your bodies were connecting. There was still more of him to take. “Okay.”

It didn’t appear like he believed you, which was fair because it was a shaky statement at best. “It’s too much?

“A little,” you sheepishly admitted. 

He pulled out of you, and even that made you wince. Your shoulders dropped back to the mattress, every muscle in your body easing up now that he wasn’t bullying inside you. 

"Here.” Eren rolled onto his back. He guided you on top of him, set you so your knees straddled his waist, his cock resting between your legs. Somehow, it looked even longer like that, laid upon his abs. “Let’s try it like this.”

Like this? It felt incredibly vulnerable from up here, where he could see you—in all your glory—bouncy above him. Plus, you hardly knew what you were doing; you had just given your first handjob! If you were being honest, you thought you’d just sort of lay there and take it from him, and now he was expecting you to ride him? It was intimidating, to say the least, even if Eren tried to assure you it wasn’t.

“You have total control this way.”

That was the exact thing you feared. You didn’t want any control. What if you did something wrong? 

Apparently, you didn’t do a great job at masking your worry because Eren immediately placed his hands on your hips, not taking them in his grasp but rubbing his thumbs encouragingly against your skin. 

The entire point of this was to trust him. That was why you were doing this—losing it to Eren, someone who wouldn’t make fun of you. That way, when it really mattered, you wouldn’t royally fuck up. And after getting this far, there was no chance in hell you would end the night a virgin. Well, half-virgin.

Ready to try again, you drew a deep breath, lifting yourself to your knees. Before you reached for him, like the new sexpert that you were, you spat in the palm of your hand, not minding Eren’s eyes this time. You stroked over the condom, mixing its lube with your saliva, then lined his cock up with you. 

Carefully, you sat down. He only reached as deep as before, but the pressure was nowhere near what it once was. You rolled your hips, testing different angles to see what worked best—how you could get more of him, all of him, inside you. 

Eren curved a hand around the nape of your neck, cooing, “Come here.”

He brought you in for a kiss—more than a kiss—his tongue immediately licking into your mouth the second your lips crashed into his, tasting every one of your contented, little hums.

He snaked a hand between your legs, lazily thumbing over your clit until your lips were unable to match his fervency. It was more like you were moaning against his mouth, right into it, sharing each of his breathers until your cheeks sweltered. He melted you from the inside out, softening you up like butter until you were flush against his pelvis—as easy as that. Cautiously, you started rocking your hips.

“That’s it,” Eren whispered into the corner of your mouth.

With quivering arms, you held yourself up with your palms pressed into his chest. Perched proudly atop him, the tip of his cock reached deeper, filling you deeper than anything else had before. It stole your breath, almost like you felt him in your throat.

Eren admired how your mouth fell into an adorable ‘o’ before you started moving. As though a switch had flipped, you were suddenly rolling your hips against him—slowly, of course—repeatedly having him hit that delicious spot again as you indulgently chased after your third orgasm.

“You’re doing so good, taking me well for—for your first time.”

Shit. Eren remembered he was taking your virginity. 

He inhaled sharply, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his voice gave way, or how his cock jolted inside you when he realized he was the first to have you like this. His cock was the first to fill you, stretch you, mold you to accommodate him. Only him. 

“Do what feels good for you, baby.”

The pet name slipped past him before he could wrangle it back, but you didn’t seem to catch it. Or, at least, you didn’t mind. 

No, you were too busy to hear him, more occupied with getting a feel for what you liked best. Eren let you use his cock freely because—what, was he supposed to stop you? Fuck no. He would let you continue forever if you desired it, so long as you’d continue gifting him with such lovely and lewd expressions—the sweet curl of your lip, the knit of your determined brows as your thighs had surely started to burn.

But, boy, it was quite the challenge, letting you have your way with him. You could only keep your pace for a moment or two before you’d take a break. Such a fucking tease, and you didn’t even know it. It was endearing how worn out you were from everything that came before this, and all Eren wanted was to dig his heels into your bed, pound away at that tight pussy of yours, and show you just how wonderful he could make you feel. 

It was a test of strength for him, whether he could hold back or not, because finally, you looked like you were enjoying yourself on his cock. You took him with short strokes, a simple tilt of your hips back and forth once you realized you could grind your clit into his pelvis.

He could tell you were close, from the way you fluttered around him to the gasps getting caught in your throat from the added, and absolutely euphoric, pressure. 

“Just like that. Keep going. Make yourself come for me.” 

The gravel in Eren’s voice pushed you closer to the edge. There was a growl to it, and you could feel it vibrate through you. You tossed your head back with a cry loud enough to wake a neighbor, as you shoved a hand between your legs, desperate to come. 

Eren shushed you dotingly, but there was a grin on his face as he placed his sticky palm against your mouth. “Can’t let them hear us now, can we?”

He felt your heady breath as you panted, trying to reach your peak. When you couldn’t ride him any longer, your hips an erratic sputter, he beamed up at you, slack-jawed smile and all, and said, “Feel good? Need some help?”

Too overwhelmed, you couldn’t even nod your head. You babbled uselessly.

“Want me to fuck you, just a little? Get you coming on my cock?”

“Yes, please—oh, God, Eren.”

When he started to move, thrusting into you ever so slightly, you were already scratching your nails down his chest. It was no bother to him, though. He only wanted you to do it again.

When you came, you squeezed him so perfectly that he thought he might explode. It was taking his last bit of self-control to fuck you at such a steady and slow pace when, in reality, he only wanted to hammer into you. Eren felt like he was moments away from boiling over. His face was burning, and he could feel the sweat beading in his hairline from this aching, pent-up desire within him. After fingering you, going down on you—no, after days of fantasizing about you—he needed release.

Even you could see it—the unmistakable flush of his face now spreading to the base of his neck and spanning his chest. As blissed out as you were, limply collapsed on top of him, you mumbled against his skin, “Eren, I want you to come, too.”

And how could he turn that down? Now that you had come three times, he figured he could finally have his turn. 

“I’m gonna go a bit faster now. You tell me if that’s okay or not.”

Before he could even flinch, you assured him, “It’s okay. I want you to.”

The soft laziness of your voice, the dreaminess seeping through it like syrup—it was too much. 

Eren took you by the hips first, holding your body pliant for him to thrust into. He started with long drags of his cock, letting his tip kiss your entrance before stuffing himself back inside you. Each time he bottomed out, he bit back every vulgar curse he wanted to hiss into your ear. 

Then, he flattened his hands against your back, folding you into him with his palms seared into your shoulder blades. Your face was smothered in the crook of his neck as he fucked up into you. The bed began to squeak, like a mockery of your tiny bleats.

“You all right?” Eren asked, his voice hoarse.

You only made an affirmative sound that got muffled as you burrowed against him. With your chest warm, like a tingling between your lungs, and your head stuck somewhere in the clouds, you took him in a speechless, almost surreal, bliss. How fiercely he needed you, if only for a blip in time, was intoxicating.

And in that fleeting moment, the sin of it, the forbiddenness surrounding you, had vanished. Eren was sure it would rear itself again, that was for certain. He could predict the ripple of guilt that’d course through him once he inevitably faced what he’d done. But even if it meant betraying his best friend, he couldn’t find it within himself to regret it.

Especially when he realized how fucking good it felt to come inside you. With his arms locked around your waist, your entire body smushed against his, he snapped his hips into you, as if he could possibly fuck you any deeper. He emptied himself into the condom as a groan tore through his throat, the hum of it against the shell of your ear like a final shudder down your spine. 

He pulled out of you, faintly cursing as he did. You flopped at his side, entirely spent, and stared at the ceiling with fuzzy, unfocused vision. The rush of adrenaline was on a steep comedown, and you were already starting to feel it. Sore, but extremely satisfied. 

“You should probably go to the bathroom—to pee and stuff,” Eren said, that familiar, boyish side already returning in full force. 

Pee. Got it.

You only muttered a ‘yeah’ before you redressed and tip-toed off to the bathroom down the hallway. There, you wiped yourself clean, forced yourself to pee, and gave yourself a good long look in the mirror.

In just one night, you had hit every base. By definition, a home run, in your book—and with your brother’s ‘cute friend,’ at that. 

You were shocked to see Eren was still there when you returned to your bedroom. He had on his boxers and tee already, stepping into his sweatpants as you opened the door. He gave you a soft smile as you hopped into your bed. 

Then, even more surprisingly, he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Eren knew he should leave unless he hoped to get caught. Still, he thought it was the right thing to say.

You giggled, “I think my brother would kill you if he found you in here.”

He laughed along with you, but when it settled, he crawled beneath your sheets anyway.

Though you felt uncertain about it, he consoled it away with, “Don’t worry. I’ll just hang here until you fall asleep.” You at least deserved that.

He turned the light off and let you rest your head against his chest, your arm looped around his waist. You didn't know where the urge to cuddle came from, and neither did he, but he didn't question it. It was comfortable, even as he waited for that pang of guilt to hit.

But it never did. And once he heard your breathing taper to a peaceful drone, he slipped out of your bed and snuck back down to the basement. That stupid air mattress felt a whole lot more comfortable now.

Finally, Eren had scratched the itch he couldn't kick, just to get it out of his system. Now, there was absolutely no way he'd think of you again—not that kittenish little smile nor how you curled against him in your sleep—and definitely not while you were three hours away at school…

Right?

The Itoshi is now attached to your nipples all day. Licking and softly kissing the bud before using his mouth to get every bit of milk you have to offer out of you. Loud suckling noises along with loud gulps every time he swallows when the Itoshi had his mouth full again. Rin looks so focused and relaxed as he nursed from you, mewling every time you stoped playing with his hair. The wet noises of his suckling result in milk and spit leaking down to his own chest and staining his shirt. He even needs you to remind him to breath through his nose properly with the way he nurses from you, clearly enjoying the liquid and fully convinced this is a healthy little treat for him. It took Rin some time to milk you completely dry, but it sure was worth the slightly bloated tummy he has now. He swears there is nothing better than your milk and he comes back to drink it every single day or whenever you complain about your tits aching of fullness. A quick addiction is promised and your boyfriend soon becomes your 6‘2 tall baby that lays fully heavy on top of you and sucks on your breast. He gets greedy very easily and sometimes starts to suckle a little harsh, a thump to his head fixes it tho. At some point he makes it his mission to drink you dry every day, preparing your body to produce more milk for him in the future.

RYUSEI SHIDOU

Everything is planned and he wanted it this way, Ryusei Shidou does everything in his might to make you lactate. Practically obsessed with the way how big your breasts would swell because if the milk. Even more crazy about the idea of suckling it all out of you.

The simple stimulation of his fingers and mouth wasn’t enough for him anymore. So Ryusei was more than expecting to have your milk gushing in his mouth. Nothing can stop him now, harsh fast suckles that try to taste every drop of your fluids against his tongue. Not even pulling him upwards by his hair helps, he just growls and puts his whole body weight on yours before biting the nipple. The feverish sucking of his relaxed at some point,, both tits in his hands as a greedy mouth is still latched on one. Shidou occasionally gives tight squeezes along with his massage, making more of your tasty substance leak into his mouth so smoothly. Deep moans and soft whimpers eventually die down to happy sighs when he closed his eyes and the thick blonde lashes of his flutter again the skin of your boob. It’s not often to see your shidou this relaxed, and maybe having him gulping down your milk is the only way to relax the demon. Ryu is needy and gets addicted to the taste of your milk very fast too, always make sure to pull him into a bathroom or empty closet whenever he starts staring at your tits s little too hard, it just means he’s a little hungry. The striker even bitches around every time you run out of milk, he could have been nursing for 30 minutes and still complains about wanting more. Practically begging you to make more milk for him as soon as possible

SEISHIRO NAGI

Nagi may be a 190cm tall pro football player, but known amongst all his friends and you, he’s a big baby. A puppy that just craves alone time and intimacy with his pretty girl. Alone time is a common thing for you and Nagi in your shared apartment, but the intimacy mainly comes with a lazy gamer boy who thinks it’s a great idea to play on his phone with a tit in his mouth, drinking anything his egoistic mouth can swallow.

The thought of having your buds in his mouth is constant for him, so why not fulfilling those imaginations and doing as he pleases with you, thinks Sei to himself most of the time. It even was a lazy nice evening for the both of you as he mouthed on your swollen nipple. Softly nibbling, playful bites and tiny sucks at the bud to cope with the bothersome day Nagi has earlier at practice. All normal until some droplets of your liquid leaked on his tongue. After pulling away to taste it properly, the striker got right back to taste you, sighing contently around your bud as he indulged himself. So now it has become a routine to have a heavy Nagi layer across your lap as he nursed. Face pressed gently on your other breast as his mouth created a softly suction motion. The most normal thing to happen his either him grinding down on the bed or falling asleep on your tit. It sealed tight inside his mouth like a pacifier as he hits into your waist so clingy. A true big baby that wants you to hold him while he nurses, you also gotta be careful he doesn’t accidentally choke on your milk while he plays his silly little games.

REO MIKAGE

There is a very high chance that Reo‘s tit fetish completely got out of hand, or he couldn’t handle it anymore. The purple haired is utterly in love with boobs and everything inside him craves having a his sweet girls‘ tits round and full. Reo loves your tits and this clearly shows with the way he treats them so perfectly. Loving them so much that he spends hours attached to them, buying expensive toys and certain drugs.

A tiny smile stretches across the strikers face, a glass of water in the right hand and a little pill that is supposed to manipulate your body into lactating in his left hand. The afternoons with Reo are usually always the same, he’s curled up to you and a tit either in his mouth or hand, toying with the aching swollen blud to his hearts content. And dear god, Reo is so proud when he makes you lactate for him. Kisses were peppered all over your breasts and his head immediately was sticked up your shirt when he recognized the wet patches forming around your nipples. A high pitched moan escapes his throat when he took a gentle suck and a soft squeeze as your warm milk trickled down the swell of your breasts. Reo is quick to lick it off before anything goes to waste. And the Mikage swears, there is nothing more delicious than your breast milk he suckled so nicely down to his stomach. Drinking you dry every day is most likely what he does, even trying to make your body produce more milk for his egoistic self. It’s always so cute when he pulls away from your boobs with milk droplets pooling at the corner of his lips, more than excited to ask you if it’s okay to drink your pumped milk in public too.

separate work for rinnie is already in progress

mdni, every character is 18+

"Please... my Lord... Douma... I can't... please stop..." You felt like your body would give out at any moment, like you would pass out from the rough ponding you've been subjected to. Douma flipped you over on your back, hands locking around your ankles and pushing his hot, hard cock back inside you, eyes shining in the moonlight as they meet yours, a little lovedrunk blush on his cheeks.

"Stop? How can I when this pussy is servicing me so well. Its sucking me in, just feel it, feel how much you still want my seed, my children, deep in this womb of yours." One of his hands lets go of your bruised ankle and pressed over your stomach, "Demon seed take root fast, pretty soon you'll be showing, pretty and round with your Lord's offspring. Be honored that a made you, a lowly whore, into someone so important."

You shut your eyes tight, images of that future briefly flashing before your eyes before a new, hot, potent flood of seed washes over your inner walls, "Am I... really that important to you my Lord?"

"Oh yes. Most important. You will carry my heirs, give them a warm home and love of a mother with me, your Lord, by your side. Do you understand now? It must be you." You. He's doing this for you, all night he's been doing this for you. "It must be you because you're precious to me." He smiles down at you, a soft smile that brings tears in your eyes before it shifts back into the almost maniacal, lustful, demonic grin he's looked at you all night.

You feel your body getting hotter for him, another orgasm closing in, but this one feeling greater then all others, now that you've accepted your role as his beloved. You lock your leg around him, pulling his cock deeper, his smile getting wider.

"Yes, now you understand. You're being honest, finally, you'll take this seed with honor."

"Please... my Lord... Douma... I can't... please stop..." You felt like your body would give out at any moment, like you would pass out from the rough ponding you've been subjected to. Douma flipped you over on your back, hands locking around your ankles and pushing his hot, hard cock back inside you, eyes shining in the moonlight as they meet yours, a little lovedrunk blush on his cheeks.

"Stop? How can I when this pussy is servicing me so well. Its sucking me in, just feel it, feel how much you still want my seed, my children, deep in this womb of yours." One of his hands lets go of your bruised ankle and pressed over your stomach, "Demon seed take root fast, pretty soon you'll be showing, pretty and round with your Lord's offspring. Be honored that a made you, a lowly whore, into someone so important."

You shut your eyes tight, images of that future briefly flashing before your eyes before a new, hot, potent flood of seed washes over your inner walls, "Am I... really that important to you my Lord?"

"Oh yes. Most important. You will carry my heirs, give them a warm home and love of a mother with me, your Lord, by your side. Do you understand now? It must be you." You. He's doing this for you, all night he's been doing this for you. "It must be you because you're precious to me." He smiles down at you, a soft smile that brings tears in your eyes before it shifts back into the almost maniacal, lustful, demonic grin he's looked at you all night.

You feel your body getting hotter for him, another orgasm closing in, but this one feeling greater then all others, now that you've accepted your role as his beloved. You lock your leg around him, pulling his cock deeper, his smile getting wider.

"Yes, now you understand. You're being honest, finally, you'll take this seed with honor."

𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 who recognizes you squirming in his hold although he isn’t even inside you. „'ts okay baby, let me take care of you“ he says. Cradling your shaking body against his chest as his fingers travel down to tease your inner thigh. Kiss after kiss presses against your shoulder and Eita’s hand eased fully between your thighs, moving them apart to slip between them.

𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 who almost completely loses it when he sees your cunt drooling for him. The pad of his thumb rubbing tender circles on your clit while he watches your body twitch and your babbles become more incoherent the more he pleases you. The striker thinks you look so fucking cute spread out on the bed for him, and it makes you look even cuter that no one besides him ever saw you in such a vulnerable state like this.

𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 a who harshly bottoms out inside you, hissing at the right grip your virgin pussy as on him. Eita really wanted to be a little nicer than usual to you, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when you make such lovely sounds. It only spurs him on even more when you tell him „hurts.. yer s‘big, Eita!!“, he hooks one leg over his shoulder and begins to set a fast and hard pace; closing his eyes and grabbing your hips to the thought of molding your virgin hole into the shape of his cock.

𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 who knows you can’t keep up with the way he fucks. Eventually all you can do after the first few minutes is babbling and pawing at his shoulders. Eyes and mind foggy with lush and pleasure as you feel his cock nudging at your sweet spots so skilled.

𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 who turns you cockdrunk in no time at all. After ripping the first orgasm from you, you seem to want much much more than him. He simply has to fuck you a little more dumb to turn you into his new cute plaything he can use to get off.

𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 who has you fucked dumb on his dick after only the second round. Eita swears there is nothing cuter than your fucked dumb face expression with your spit escaping at the edge of your mouth into your cheek. Of course he likes it all up and pushes his tongue back into your mouth, rocking his cock back into your in the very same moment to feel your virgin cunt clench even tighter around him.

𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 who eventually gets tired after fucking you. So he just flips you both over and makes you straddle his waist, length buried even deeper inside your core at this angle.

„s’too deep, toya. Can’t- can’t take it!!“ you would whine.

„Shh, angel. will feel better soon, ‘promise. Ah fuck… bounce on that cock, baby. so fucking tight, so fucking good“ and otoya knows how much this sweet praise wraps you around his greedy fingers.

Yeah, 𝖵𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖪𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋!𝖮𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 who fucks creampie after creampie into the inexperienced body of yours. Cursing under his breath at the feeling of you being so full he can barley move. God, Eita swears there is nothing better than killing virgins like you!!

mdni, every character is 18+