#tw.choking

The pressure he keeps on you is cruel, but not enough to have you passing out with his cock in your mouth. It’s all deliberate control. Squeezing his thick fingers around swallowing sinew, petting his thumb down the center column of your throat. He can see and feel his dick inside your neck. 

You’re mewling like a cat in heat, drool soaking your cheeks, bubbling around the tight suck of your lips. 

You’re nothing but his to use, and you’ve drifted off into that perfect space where you let go and give into his command. 

If he wasn’t so god damn horny at the sight of the wet spot between your clenched thighs, he’d go ahead and spill his seed down your throat and watch you try to swallow. 

Your hot tongue is dragging along the underside of his length with every deep pass of his cock, talented little muscle licking at the curving veins. He snaps his hips roughly, grinning as you finally start to choke and search for air around his dick. 

He tortures you just a little longer, content to feel the warmth of your sweet little mouth glossing over your Admiral’s cock. 

Smoker decides to give you just a glimpse of mercy when he finally dislodges himself from your throat. 

“Strip.” 

For a second he’s not sure if you heard his command over your laborious panting. Your head dangles off his desk as you gasp. But then you’re moving with the gracefulness of any well trained marine, getting to your feet and dutifully removing the rest of your uniform.

“Where do you wa—”

“Ah, ah.” He cuts you off as he sits back into his chair, waving his finger as if scolding a petulant child. “No questions. No talking. Come sit on my dick and let me show you what happens to bad girls.” 

Only you’re such a good girl as you do what you’re told, slotting your thighs over his and arching your pretty neck back like you’re just expecting him to take it. 

He eyes you over billows of smoke, his teeth gritting into the bitter wrapping of his cigar. Such a pretty sight, a trusting girl all naked and vulnerable in his lap.

You don’t deserve this. You really don’t. But he will find any excuse to wrap his fist around your throat and impale your tight cunt with his cock. 

For him, acquiring wants and fulfilling desires is so disgustingly effortless. Perks of the job title.

Smoker slots his hand back home on your neck and uses the leverage to sink you down over his length. Your pussy is already sloppy, gushing with slick as he works his way into you. The heat is almost overwhelming for him, his throbbing cock soothed by your tight squeeze.

He could kill you with just a twist of his wrist, bury you in a shallow grave and never see the light of consequences. Yet you let him feel your hurried heartbeat beneath his massive palm, staring him down with some kind of malign pleasure as your lips part.

“Gonna use you like a little fucking cocksleeve, marine.”

A smirk pulls at his cheek because he can tell you’re dying to speak, say something bratty that tuts off your tongue. But the good girl he trained keeps quiet at his command. 

Sinking his fingers into your hip, he uses the strength in his brawny forearm to lift you up and down, urging you to sink farther and farther along his impossibly thick cock. 

Finally, he buries himself inside of you, bottoming out with a reverberating grunt that makes your skin prickle. You swallow thickly beneath his palm. 

He keeps a mean pressure on your hip, pushing you down like you haven’t already taken all of him inside, like you can’t already feel the thumping veins of his cock pulsing against your walls. 

You push against the strength of his arm, and he lets you. Deft fingers pluck at his steaming cigar, holding it just over his shoulder so you can come closer and taste what you desire.

You meld your lips to his as you start to roll your hips, begging him to buck into you. 

He’s so self-satisfied that you know the rhythm of his mouth by now, know when to open your lips and turn your face in his harsh grip.

“Atta girl,” he groans against your wet, bruised lips, “let me do the work.”

He snatches his addiction back from your hand and puffs smoke directly into your face. His heavy brow arches with a thrill as he watches his clouds push over your skin, encircling your curves.

Stirring beneath you, broad thighs shift apart in the chair and his hands become iron on your body. You arch your back, moaning aloud as he begins to slowly thrust, keeping himself sheathed inside of you and grinding into your depths like he expects there to be more to give.

He lets you moan—he likes the little sounds you make, all gargled and sweet and breathy. But when he feels the rumble of your vocal cords, he dials in the controlled pressure on your throat, making sure you know to shut the fuck up. 

Smoker drags his dick down your spongy walls, pulling until just the tip is left twitching in you, and then slams himself with a power that has your head falling limp in his hold. 

He’s got you now. He’ll use you for however long he wants. 

You’re so little compared to him, easy to manipulate, easy to bounce like a toy with the simplest cant of his hips. He keeps you constrained and riding him until you’re gasping, the pop of p’s from smothered pleases the only sound he lets emit from your mouth.

“I think you like getting in trouble, marine. Think you want the punishment of my cock in your guts, yeah?” 

You’d nod if you could. 

Fat fingers press until he feels the whole of your heartbeat across his palm, blood singing in your carotid arteries. He’s stopping the flow to that pretty head, content to make you lose your sense of self.

It’s fun fucking the smart ones dumb.

Leaning you back, he misses the warmth of your hot tits squished against his chest, but is delighted to watch them bounce as he gets more forceful with his pounding. 

He has you in a rhythm that has his aching cock sliding from tip to balls with every wet plunge. 

“S–Sir,” you manage to croak. 

“What part,” he grunts as sweat beads down his forehead, “of keeping fucking quiet,” he shoves his cock so deep he feels his tip knock against your poor cervix, “don’t you understand?”

You know how to get him to stop, know to tap his wrist three times and he’ll dump you into the floor and let you breathe. You’ve done it before. 

So the fact that you’re scratching your nails down his forearm, nearly drawing the blood of your superior officer, tells him that instead you’re probably dying to cum on his cock. 

“You think you get to cum? You’re mine to use, marine, you’ll take whatever the fuck I give you.”

Only he knows if he angles you just a bit forward, starts grinding his cock in deep and letting his pelvis rub against that puffy clit, you’ll both get what you want. 

Your lower body is tired of the spread around his thick thighs, he’s sure, but you don’t dare show it as you start to match his pace, rolling faster and bouncing that perfect ass in his lap to find release.

Every new plunge has his cock hitting the soft spot in your pussy that makes him groan. 

“Not gonna pull out this time,” he warns with a grin. 

You gasp in his hold, unable to protest as his fist around your neck tightens until he’s sure you see stars. But you don’t tap him. 

“Oh you’re fucking nasty, aren’t you? My little marine wants her pussy filled with cum.”

When your cunt starts to convulse with the first waves of orgasm, he knows he’s got you dead to rights. 

Smoker slowly eases the pressure on your throat, letting his balls release as he hears the sweet sound of you sucking in breath as you cry and cum. That’s the best part—getting all that fresh oxygen the moment he lets you explode in bliss all over his lap.

Feeling his cum burst in your pussy makes him feel dirty, hits him with the guilt that maybe he actually is abusing his power. But as you gasp for breath like your head just breached the waves of the sea, nails sinking his shoulders, the most cumdrunk look on your face as you press down in his lap, he’s pretty sure he’s going to cum in you next time, too. 

You lean in to kiss his neck, collapse in his arms, breathing in the smell of sex in his office. 

“You, uh,” he pauses, lip curling at the niceties he debates, “you okay?” 

Arching your brow, you sit back, both of you grunting as he pulls his still-hard cock from your drenched hole. You lick your swollen lips.

He scoffs, “You have permission to speak.” 

“Can I use the officers’ shower to clean up your mess, sir?” 

Smoker can’t help but snort, manhandling you up and over his shoulder with ease.

You were called to his office by your boss, Dazai Osamu. He was sitting down on his chair, his jacket was off. His hair was covering your face, you let out a deep sigh as you walk towards him. "Your finally here?" He says, he lifts back up his head and his head tilts to the time on the clock. You can see that you were late to be meeting him, he sighed as he taps on his desk. You walk towards the desk, he stared at you. "Your late" Pointing out the obvious, you nod your head and you kneel down. "For a subordinate I thought you would be more on time..." He says, he has a creepy smile. "I sorry, boss.." He slams his fist onto the desk, you jolt up as you look at him. "Come here" You get up and walk over, his glare never leaving your body. You gulps as he gets up and he is standing tall over you, you lean against the desk as he leans more closer towards you.

"You know your punishment, don't you?" He tilts his head, you blush and nod. You understand what he means, you get on your knees. You are now kneeling infront of him, he looks down at you. "We'll get started" he says, you unzip his pants and pull his pants down its around his ankles. You can see a chubby bulge in his underwear, you gulps and pull down his underwear enough so his dick hits your face. You stare at it before dazai grabs your hair and opened you mouth, you grab his thighs as he forces you to take his cock in your mouth. The taste of his cum fills your mouth, you close your eyes. His dick immediately hits the back of your throat, he grips your hair as he moves you back and forth. You moan and you can feel his dick twitch that the virbration of your moan after some time you can feel his dick leaking out so much pre-cum, you can feel your cunt getting wet while you continue to suck him. He pushes your head until your nose touches his abdomen, you can feel his white liquid filling your mouth. "Make sure nothing comes out your mouth" he says with a stern voice, you lift up your head in hopes that you won't spill any of his precious seeds. You swallow everything and you open your mouth showing him that everything was swallowed. "Good job~!" He pats your head, he leans down and grabs you hips as he throws you in his desk. Your back hurts, you groan and lift up your head. "I can't wait for this?" He lets out a small laugh, he pulls down your lower clothing and his smile widens when he sees your damp panties. "Your so wet" he says and he takes it off, he throws your panties somewhere in the room. He didn't shove his fingers in you but instead he just aimed his cock at your dripping entrance. He shoves his dick in rough and hard, you gasp loudly. "Ngh" you managed to get out, your heart felt like it was caging in more. He rams inside of you, his rough movements never slowing down. You can feel his hands around your neck, your eyes widen and you stare at him. He has a smile on his face, his hands began to tighten around your neck. You gasp for air as you can feel his dick hitting at your spots inside of you, his cock never missing it. "Agrh!" You say and he finally takes his hand away, some juices dripping down his cock into the floor. "Fuck—" he says and you can feel a hard metal object against your temple, you open your eyes and you see a gun. Your so out of it that you don't mind the gun at your temple. You can see his finger on the trigger, he continues to ram inside of you. His dick twitches inside of you, your pussy twitches as you cum all over his dick. He grunts and his hips slam against you, you can feel his cum dripping out of you. "I think you enjoyed your punishment..." He smiles and lifts back up his underwear and lower clothing.

you've been going to the same tattoo studio for the past couple of years. you knew the owner so in your eyes, he was the safest bet to getting a good tattoo. that changed when your friend showed you the most recent work she had done. she sent you a picture of a gorgeous back tattoo she'd gotten done and a glowing review of the tattoo artist. 

"he was so polite and friendly, the service was amazing, and he's easy on the eyes." 

you didn’t really have a reason to try someone new, but here you were walking towards the foxy tattoo and piercing parlour. if you were being honest, you didn’t need to get a tattoo or change tattoo artists, but maybe a little change could be good.

as you walk through the glass tinted doors your eyes widen at the interior. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have much expectations for the inside, but you were proven wrong. there was a small desk in the front, while the rest of the loft-like area was filled with artwork. there were couches scattered around the work areas. It seemed as though the front area was where the piercings took place and in the back you could see the tattoo chair with all the equipment around it. 

while you were taking in your surroundings you hadn’t noticed a grey haired man walk behind the front desk. he clears his throat just a little to get your attention which instantly has you turning your head towards him.

“you okay? y’seem a little dumbstruck.”

he chuckles quietly to himself and you feel your cheeks start to burn in embarrassment. you’d probably looked like a kid who’s never set foot in a candy store, oogling at all the things their little eyes could see. he could see the pink on your cheeks before reassuring you that you’re fine.

“so, what brings ya here today?”

“i’ve got an appointment for a tattoo today, with an…atsumu miya?”

the grey haired man nods and checks on the computer to verify your appointment. he then gets up off the chair before yelling to who i assumed to be atsumu, to come out and do his job. not too long after a man who looked exactly like the one in front of you, except for the difference in hair colour. your mildly confused little brain put two and two together and figured out they were twins.

“twins, huh?”

“been stuck with him since the womb. i’m osamu by the way, and that over there as ya might already know is atsumu.”

your eyes trail up to the man infront of you as he introduces himself. he was wearing a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms, as well as the tattoos that adorned them. Your gaze tailed up to his face as he looked at you with his chocolate brown eyes. your friend wasn’t wrong when she said he was easy on the eyes.

“hi. i’m atsumu. nice ta meetcha.”

you greeted him back before he led you to the back area of the store where the he sat down, motioning you to sit on the tattoo chair.

“so, what are we doin’ for ya today?”

“i was thinking of getting a tattoo on my ribcage. barbed wire actually.”

he smiled a little, drawing something on the page in front of him. he was done, and he moved his chair closer to you and placed his clipboard on your lap. you looked at the drawing he had done, a slightly curved line of barbed wire that looked like it could fit perfectly on your body. he watched as you studied his drawing, his eyes searching for your approval. 

when you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you causing the heat from earlier to slowly creep onto your face again. you quickly averted your eyes and went back to looking at the drawing.

“it’s perfect.”

he smiled before asking you to sit up properly in the chair. your eyes were on him as he moved closer to you, as his hands ghosted over the side of your body. 

“right or left side.”

“right.”

he nodded as he moved to sit on the right side of you, hands on the chair next to you.

“may i?”

he asked as his hands were about to touch the side of your body, and you slowly nodded. his hands went to your ribcage,testing out possible placement of the tattoo. when his hands went a bit higher, just grazing the underside of your breast you let out a shaky breath. he glanced up at you and smirked a little.

after a few more changes you settled on a placement, and atsumu got straight into creating the stencil. not too long after that, osamu had announced he was going on a break and left to the back of the store, where atsumu had emerged earlier. 

once osamu was gone, you were acutely aware of how alone you two were in the store. you couldn't keep your eyes off atsumu as he worked. his muscles flexing slightly while he finished up the stencil. 

when he was done, he moved back towards you as he adjusted the chair you were sitting it to be horizontal for you to lay back in.

"if ya want you can lift yer shirt f'me, or if it's more comfortable, ya can take it off."

he said this nonchalantly as he was prepping the tools he needed for your tattoo, getting everything onto the silver table next to where he was going to work. you gulped slightly, not knowing whether to take your shirt off or not, so you ended up just taking the right arm out of your shirt, essentially having half of your shirt off, showing off the pretty lace bra you wore. 

when he turned back to you in order to place the stencil on, his eyes trailed over your exposed skin before mentally kicking himself for staring. he inched in closer as he asked you to raise your arm for him to get a better angle. he gently placed the stencil on the decided spot, massaging it with his right hand while his left hand rested on your waist, using it as leverage to help get the stencil on better. 

he didn’t realise his fingers were slightly caressing your side as he held you in place, but your body was suddenly hypersensitive and all you could feel were his fingers on your body. your thighs instinctively came together, unintentionally rubbing together. atsumu’s eyes trailed over your body down to your legs, where you were clenching your thighs, before looking up at you, without moving his hands an inch.

you avoided his gaze, unsure of how looking at him right now would affect your heart rate. you suddenly feel atsumu’s hand move higher up your waist, inching closer to your breast. your eyes snapped towards his, trying to gauge his reaction. you thought it was a bit cliche to have fantasies of fucking your tattoo artist, and if you were being honest, your previous tattoo artist wasn’t anything to write home about, moreover, he was your friend, but atsumu was a complete stranger. he was a sexy stranger who had his hand trailing up the side of your body, while maintaining eye contact with you.

you could feel the heat in your cheeks for the third time today, not sure how to deal with the situation. you weren’t opposed to it, but you were basically out in the open, where anyone could walk in.

“ya okay sweetheart? i can stop if yer not okay-”

“i’m okay. please don’t stop.”

and that’s all it took for atsumu to get up from his seat and push you back onto the tattoo chair, your back hitting the soft leather as atsumu’s arms were on either side of your head. his face was close to yours, his hot breath fanning over your face. your breath was hot and heavy, trying to wrap your head around the current situation. his eyes were scanning over your face, looking for any signs that you might not want this, but when he found none, he leaned down and kissed you, slow at first, getting to know and feel how your lips felt against his, before he picked up the pace, slowly licking your bottom lip and biting it a little to get access to your tongue. his hands found purchase on your hips as he grinds your body against his, eliciting a quiet moan from you, giving him just the access he needs to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. he kissed you so fervently, wanting to know every part of you, every crevice of your mouth, before pulling away slowly, your bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

one of atsumu’s hands trailed down from your hips to the waistband of the shorts you wore, before slipping past the threshold. his fingers lazily found their way to your puffy lips before he swiped them along your slit.

“already wet f’me? what a little slut.”

your body bucked into his hand, your hole clenching around nothing at the name. you were wet, soaking even, and he wasn’t helping. his middle finger prodded at your entrance before pushing inside you, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit. your hands made their way to his hair, gripping it slightly as his pace increased. you gasped as you felt him add a second finger, a shiver of pleasure running up your spine. you tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to risk getting caught, which definitely pissed atsumu off. he used his other hand to pull down your shorts and panties in one swift moment before adding a third finger to your tight hole.

“now i wanna hear ya. c’mon make some noise fer me.”

you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, your eyes screwed shut as you writhed underneath him.

“that’s my good girl. doin’ so well f’me.”

his fingers felt like heaven inside you, your back arching off the chair as you whined for more. his free hand came to your hair and he slowly grabbed hold of it, leaning down to kiss you once again, yet this kiss was filled with lust and greed. his fingers moved like pistons inside you, you felt the heat in your abdomen growing steadily. you knew you wouldn't last long, and atsumu could feel you clenching around his fingers. he pulled away from the kiss, smirking down at you.

"look at my pretty baby, about to fall apart on a stranger's fingers. anyone could see ya, looking like a slut sprawled out on my tattoo chair."

you whined, squirming under his touch. he leaned down, head buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings and praise in your ear. you couldn't help but come undone on his fingers, biting the skin on his neck, to hide your moans. your legs were weak, and tiredness was creeping into your bones slowly. he got up off the table and pulled your body to the edge, your ass hanging slightly off the end.

"nuh uh. we're not done yet sugar." 

he undid his pants and threw them where your shorts were and your eyes were transfixed on his cock, hard and red at the tip. you licked your lips, and looked up at him, knowing that he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. before he grabs your hips, he picks up your underwear and hands them to you.

"in yer mouth, sweetheart. need to keep that sweet voice down for me."

you take it and put it in your mouth, and his hands grip your hips. he rubs his cock up and down your folds, your juices and his pre-cum mixing, lubing him up. as he was about to push inside his phone rings. it shocks both of you as he bends down to pick it up. You shake your head violently, hoping he doesn’t answer it, but all he does is put a finger in front of his lips in a shushing motion as he answers the phone.

“oh hey ‘samu. whatcha need?”

you could feel atsumu rubbing against you again as you look at him, eyes wide, as his tip catches on your entrance every so now and again. he continues talking to his brother as he slowly began to sink inside you, biting his lip to hide his moans, and you throw your head back against the chair, biting back your moans, only a few small ones slipping past the panties between your lips. 

“nah i’m not busy. we haven’t started her tattoo yet. we had a small…setback”

he smirks as he starts to fuck into you, not allowing you to adjust to his size and still sensitive from your previous orgasm. your hand gripped his that was at your waist, nails digging into his wrist as you tried your best to be quiet, your body wanting to betray you and give in to the pleasure.

atsumu was in heaven. seeing your fucked out face in front of him, flushed and needy, holding back moans he desperately wanted to come out. in his eyes, you were perfection.

you could see on atsumu’s face he was feeling it too, his eyebrows were knitted together, sweat dripping from his brow, and his eyes never leaving yours. his eyes carried all the emotions he was feeling: lust, want, need. emotions you couldn’t help but feel as well. He leaned down over you, his face right over yours his jagged breaths and soft groans filling your senses. you were close again, and feeling him twitch inside you, you knew he was too.

“ya can get lunch for us, and the pretty girl too.”

he winked at you slyly.

“i’m coming..soon so just wait for us, yeah?”

you knew what he meant, the raspy tone of his voice and the slight stutter in his voice. he said his final goodbyes and finally put the phone down before bottoming out inside of you. you whine loudly, tears prickling at the sides of your eyes. you wanted to cum, no you needed to cum. You wiggled your hips as best you could against him, grinding on his cock. he groaned lowly into your neck before grabbing onto your hair.

“ya wanna cum? does my pretty girl wanna cum like a slut on my cock?”

Your body ached as he said that, your cunt fluttering around him.

“it seemed like ya enjoyed being fucked while i spoke to my brother. wanna have him come watch as you unravel in my tattoo studio?”

you audibly moaned at the idea, having his brother watch as you were fucked senseless. He slowly started moving his hips, his thrusts hard and deep, his pace quickening slowly.

“yeah ya like that idea, huh? well, sugar, you’ll cum when i cum, got it?”

you nodded quickly, your mind already numb. he started to pick up the pace, his cock just kissing your cervix so beautifully. the heat in your abdomen builds up quicker than before, and wants to be released, but not until atsumu was ready. you made sure to hold on, moans now cascading past the makeshift gag, not caring about who heard you. atsumu adored it. he revelled in the fact he could make you feel this way. he was getting close too, he couldn’t help it when you looked and sounded so exquisite beneath him. if he could keep you like this, he would.

he saw tears running down the side of your cheeks and kissed them away, as he whispered about how much of a good girl you are for him.

“...inside? can i cum inside?”

you heard him say, almost whimpering into your ear, and you nodded, hoping he got the message. he leaned his arm next to your head to keep him up, looking you in your eye.

“ya gonna cream on my cock before i cum, okay? need to feel you cum on me.”

you needed nothing more than to look into his eyes as you felt yourself let go, electricity flowing to all ends of your body as you came on his cock, clenching down on him so hard he couldn’t help but grip your hair tighter, fucking you through your orgasm. your poor overstimulated pussy was still being used to milk his cock, and you wanted nothing more than to have him cum inside you. you pulled him closer to you, your lips barely touching.

“please cum inside me ‘tsumu.”

he came right on the spot, his body spasming as he fucked his load into you, never breaking eye contact as he whimpered slightly, feeling you clench around his now sensitive cock. 

“fuck, you’re amazing.” 

he breathed out as he layed his head in your neck, trying to catch your breath. your hands trailed up his arms, slowly drawing shapes on them, trying to catch your breath as well. 

“you’re not to bad yourself ‘tsumu.”

you liked the way the nickname rolled off your tongue, and he enjoyed hearing you say it. He slowly leaned up, pulling out of you before quickly running to get something to clean you off with. he clean you off diligently, watching not to touch you too roughly and he cleaned himself off. you then both, got dressed and sat down for a second.

“so, do ya wanna schedule another appointment for the tattoo?”

you smirked as you leaned back on your arms.

“if it means seeing you again, i’ll make sure you’re fully booked.”

all works belong to @cpidsworld ! Do not claim as own or reupload without permission!!

Any and all information you had about boys came straight from Hajime’s mouth, who was older. Compared to clueless you; niichan held the wisdom of a sage. You always clung to his every word, even as he grew bigger. Even as he grew more snappy, sick of dealing with his friends who were stupid boys and did stupid high school boy things. Everything you didn’t know went through niichan. Not ever the other boy spending too much time in your house, because Oikawa was a liar, and niichan would make sure you remembered it.

But you knew certain things too when you saw them, and what small amount you did know— was now rearing it’s ugly head and asking questions.

“Wh—what’s this? What are you watching?” As you shuffle out of the hall with a frown, you hold niichan’s phone away from your body with loose fingertips. Boys might not have cooties anymore in your mind, but everyone talks about how gross boys are. You don’t want to risk it. And Hajime freezes in place like he’s guilty, wide-eyed. It’s brand new. Unusual. Like hitting bullseye on the first throw, tickling your brain from within.

See, Hajime was always bigger than most in your town, athletically built, and prone to using that build full of energy and power to his advantage. That to say, he was always quicker than most to squish you into silence or grab you by the collar instead of using his words when it came to accusations. Your parents weren't around much to scold him for it. It’s what his popular best friend loved to call ‘anger issues’, wait for it to blow up.

And silent, thinly veiled panic isn’t — that.

“Why the hell are you on my phone?” Hajime’s face blanks as he puts down the remote, glances over his shoulder for supervision, and puts on his meanest glare as he scrambles up from the couch. He’d been left on little sister duty all afternoon, and now, you’d gone and made a critical error. Your friends joke about no-goes, but you never really got why ‘messing around on a boy’s phone’ was an issue.

Hajime nii clearly doesn’t agree. His biceps bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest with mouth set in a thin line, and you shuffle in place within arms’ reach of him.

“I’m not on your phone, I just found it like this on your bed.” It’s the truth, you hadn’t meant to find anything. Intent doesn’t matter to your big brother though, because he towers you as he does. It’s the best way you can describe the way he glares you down ice cold, close enough to make your skin break out in goosebumps, waiting for retaliation. If you were any of his guy friends, you’re sure they’d get a solid kick to the shin. The little sister treatment is more mean mugging you until you fidget. “I wasn’t even snooping, I just needed to get a charger,” you tack on, swinging your arms behind your back.

“Give it.”

“No,” you quip back, for no particular reason other than to win the back and forth that always starts like this.

“Give me my phone, before I choose to take it.” His hand sticks out, bigger than yours, and you lean back a little. Usually it’s just empty threats. But sometimes you pick the wrong day to argue back, until you end screaming like a banshee under him like it’s life or death. Niichan’s still young enough where it makes him feel strong not to hold back.

The second ‘no’ sticks in your throat as he leans into your space more, and you can basically taste the natural instinct to roll over before he gets there. But you can’t help yourself. You want answers. You don’t deliver the device as quickly as he wants you to. A single eyebrow raises -an I dare you- deciding whether or not to smack you over the head for your transgression.

And you should know better, but the younger sibling in you aches. You suck your bottom lip. “Why are you watching this?” you grimace as you look at the phone again, unlocking it to reveal the video of a naked girl suckling on what the deadly annoying, high-pitched whine of ‘step brother’ loud through the little phone speaker says is her brother’s… parts. It doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen, from the few seconds you watched. But niichan always gets into the bath before you, and you don’t peek. Ever. But judging by the groaning and moaning from the guy, it must be-

Hajime goes bright red in his face as he yanks the phone out of your hands. “Don’t play it, are you fucking stupid?” Your father is still just as busy in his office as he’s been all day, but the way he panics to turn it off would almost make you think differently.

“It’s porn, isn’t it? You’re watching porn.” You’ve heard your friends talk about porn enough to know what it is. You just don’t know why he’s watching it. “Why?”

After clicking out of the tab, your big brother makes a face that’s equal parts fed up, and embarrassed, but he doesn’t give you any of the answers you’re looking for. “Shittykawa sent me that, ’s nothing. Just- fuck, don’t touch my shit again. Or I’ll knock the sense into you, y’hear?”

“But why watch it?”

“You’re dumber than you look if you think I’ll talk to you about-” The last word isn’t even spoken, but it feels like it’s heard just as loud. Your brother watches porn. There’s a pit in your stomach. Because your brother isn’t a liar, but he also isn’t a gossip. And he doesn’t offer up important information until you ask, which always ends with you feeling left out. Late. The overly girly pout of the woman moaning rings in your mind over and over. You’ve never done that stuff to your brother. Instead of helping you out, he hoards info. It makes the hairs on your neck stand up, and you don’t know why.

When he goes to brush past you, you wrap your arms around his waist and cling to him, face to stomach as he tries to walk away. “I’m not done,” you drag out the word, “niichan, stahp-uh. St-aw-aww! You’re hurting me!” You’re really to blame for the way you struggle to hold him in place, and he isn’t one to just fold without a fight. “Niisan~ tell me why! Come on, don’t be annoying. Ughh— don- you’re annoying!” Hajime nii doesn’t just give in. You know that as well as he does.

“Get off!!” His hand is big and warm as it wraps around your neck and he shoves his thigh between your legs, lifted off the floor. You cling on, squeezing hard as he huffs and you use your whole body to try and keep him in place. “Let go of me, brat, fuckin’-uhg- you’re—” You manage to fall back halfway into the couch with Hajime’s weight on top of you in the struggle and bite it, butt landing hard on the floor as he knees you in the shoulder and protects your face just in time. “Idiot, you wanna break your nose over this shit?”

“Why are you looking at that stuff, tell me!” you demand again, through welling up tears this time. “I want to know, or else- Else I’ll ask Oikawa.” He moves just enough to cradle your face and watch you for a second, then blows out a deep breath.

“No, you don’t.” His eyes zero in on yours, and his eyebrows flatten out a little. “You’ve made your point, just stop making a scene.” After running a hand through his spiky tufts of hair, he clicks his tongue. “If I tell you, will you shut up about it?”

Your head bobs up and down quickly, always ready to indulge your brother. “Of course! Promise.” Your voice is extra sweet when you say it.

In turn, Hajime sits back down to make some room for your shoulder as you sink down against the furniture, and look up at him. “Get up from the floor, c’mon-”

“Hajime nii~,” you bristle, crossing your arms over your chest, “just say it.”

You can basically see him think about rolling his eyes, but he fights the urge to instead let out a noncommittal huff, and pats his thigh. “Suit yourself.” You swallow down a sniffle, and rest your head onto the couch. And your niichan’s eyes flick to you again, hesitating. “What d’you want me to- I- If you wanna know why I watched it, it’s- because it feels good. I like it.” Your face must give away your confusion, because he glances over his shoulder again before patting your head and running his fingers through your hair in nerves. “And it is easier for guys to… come if we watch stuff.”

“Like it?” Your lashes tickle against the fabric as you look up at him, not yet satisfied. He’s not getting away with a measly little explanation like that. “But what was the girl doing?” Niichan’s chest rumbles softly with the deep breath he takes, pulling his fingers down to squeeze the bridge of your nose instead, like it’ll shut you up. But it doesn’t, only makes you whine and push at the hand. When he speaks again, his voice is very soft, almost too much so. It makes you giddy. It warms your blood. You love when Hajime nii tells you secrets, or things you’re not supposed to know.

The low mumble reaches. “Sucking his dick.”

Sucking it. You pop your lips, and watch as he starts bouncing his leg next to your head. But the lady in the video wasn’t just sucking. You’re not sure how to word it, so just pout for a moment. It’s not like you mean to push it too far. Evidently, you do though. “Can I do that to you, niichan?”

It nails the coffin closed, because he suddenly stands up and narrows his eyes, as heat comes up all the way to his ears. “Oh my god, don’t make it sound fucked up. I’m—”

"What, what, what?" you pout, and cling to him.

"Shut. Your. Trap. Dad's gonna hear." He takes your cheeks between his index finger and thumb, and makes you really look into his eyes. “Don’t ask anyone else that. Ever, okay? I’m not- talking about this with you right now.”

+

The conversation sated you back then, it seems. Because it doesn’t come up again until you’ve totally forgotten about it, much, much later. Late enough for you to be awoken from your sleep with an involuntary yawn. Hajime’s apartment is still pitch black, but you’re not unaware of the shape next to you as it slips into the covers with careful motions. Your chest rises and falls shallowly, before you nose pushes into his chest and he settles. “Sorry.”

“M’n -rom d’airport, miss you,” you slur, and also curl up further into Hajime’s heat, who doesn’t bother to try and understand you. You’re not even sure yourself. Only that you don’t want him to move, and that the gentle soothing motion of his heavy hand on your hip is nice. “Hm?”

“You’re taking up my side,” his voice rattles your skull with how deep and low it feels this close to your brain.

“‘M not leaving, you’re warm. Wanna stay here. Forever.” It’s enough to have him give in, slide an arm under your side and drape you up a little higher onto his pillow to really slide in nice and close next to you. Chest to chest, and your face to his collar. It isn’t the first time you’ve cuddled, or felt his thighs force some room between your legs to slide one of his between.

But it’s weird. You can still feel his eyes on your face, magnetic in the twilight. They trail paths all over, suffocatingly so. When you open your eyes as much as the call of sleep will allow, your lashes almost brush his nose, and it tickles, and your big brother’s breath dusts over your cheeks. “Wanna get more sleep before I have to go back home.” You justify, but Hajime doesn’t nod, doesn’t disagree either. He just looks, too close to your face. Your sleepiness doesn’t matter so much when your heart patters against your ribs. It’s just - like ice sliding down your spine, you can feel how your stomach turns inside you, and how hot the air feels. Why is it weird?

You’re older now. You know better now. There’s a whisper, a soft “niichan,” anything to break the tension. It is breathier than you mean it to come out. You just want to know if he feels nauseous too, sensing the same feeling of hell pressing down on your chest as the room seems to come closer. He seems to come closer too. He’s always so bright, so present in your mind. Whether you’re halfway across the world or kept

in his arms. And then pillowy lips connect with yours, nose brushing along your matching one, and your lips are pushed open by a wet, warm tongue. A hot flash travels down your throat as you try not to skitter away at the feeling. It takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up. Why is it different? Why? Why’s your belly burning with a strange sort of pressure? Tonight’s the last night you’ll be spending in Hajime’s apartment for a while, maybe.

His tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours, tasting of watermelon and mint mouthwash, and his heart beats slower against your chest. He’s just so close, and you feel like you’re drifting off into dreamland with how warm you feel melting into him. “M-nii -chan,” your voice comes, and a hand grabs your cheek to pull your face closer to his. You’re instantly reminded… of that high pitched moan of that girl on that video.

“Shh, ‘s okay. I’ve got you,” he noses along your jaw, before pressing a lingering kiss right in the middle of your bobbing throat. You don’t expect him to sit up. You don’t expect him to slide his arm under your knees and move you sideways, and to come back to your face for more warm, sloppy, wrong kisses. “I love you. I love you.” This is… wrong, isn’t it? It’s incest, and wrong. The word that haunted you ever since you learned it’s meaning. He groans your name in the quiet, and you automatically reply with a soft moan. Can’t help it. The kissing turns into deeper, needier, panting and spit on your bottom lip before he slides the calloused tips of his fingers over the exposed sliver of your tummy and up.

Hooking your flimsy cotton onto his fingers and pulling at it until he reaches the swell of your tits, but not revealing anything yet. You shake, and your legs spread apart. There’s a pressure on your bladder, on the lowest part of your belly, where heat collects itself and drips out of you into your panties— and it should be more embarrassing than it is. But your pout is kissed by your devoted, all-knowing big brother, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Let me- wanna show you somethin’ now.” His breathing against you feels like heaven, sweetening your blood until you can barely think straight over the smacking mouths and dripping of spit and your cunt and the swirling fire in your loins. “You’re so fucking- pretty.” His chest rubs against your tits, and his fingers pinch the skin where your breasts blush with heat, squeezing with a low rumble of his voice. He wants to say something, but doesn’t get the words out, clearly, as he shuts himself up in your lips, then your throat, down to your tits. Your pussy’s glowing, and your mind foggy- something you can’t pinpoint to either sleep or the moment, and is most likely both combined.

Hajime nii’s boxers are barely clinging onto his thighs with the way it’s tented around his cock when he pulls back, taking a long look just like you are. He’s hot, physically burning under your eyes. But also… filled out so much. He was always broad, but now it’s just distracting. Carved from marble and dusted with gold. It’s childish, petulant even, how you take in the sight and moan with your hands pawing at his shirt, but so fucking true. You’re overcome with it, with love for him.

And niichan seems similarly affected as you are, because there’s a furrow between his brows that only relaxes when he stares at your blushy, spit-covered lips, your heaving chest, the sticky patch of your panties as you’re laid spread on his bed.

His hand comes to yours, letting you wrap your fingers around his, but he doesn’t move beyond that. Only breathes deeply, and stares at the way you tangle your fingers between his. “Niichan, please,” you whine, pulling, tugging, demanding him into motion until he places his free hand onto his chubbed cock and squeezes himself through the fabric. The wet patch of his gray boxers clings uncomfortably to his cockhead, and you suck your lip between your teeth. “Show me, niichan. I wa- wan’ you to, please.”

You’re the one sitting up first, grabbing a handful of your own tits to whimper as his fist stays screwed around his cock— and have to lean yourself all the way down to nose at the inside of his thigh before he finally moves again. “Oh- fuck.” His hips jerk as he rubs himself against your cheek once, and when you moan, again. Large hands and long fingers splay out over your head to keep you in place as gently as he can manage as you let your spit-slick tongue rub against him as he fucks into the air and you chase. You only manage a little glance up between your lashes at his heavy petting and desperate few pumps against the softness of your mouth, but it’s plenty.

Plenty to see the blown out pupils and bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his ears and cheeks a dusty pink. Your big brother groans when you brush your thumb over the sticky patch of the fabric and wrap a ring of fingers around him, forcing the covered head to pop into your soft mouth with a loud kissy noise. “I- Fucking hell, get o- oh,” he doesn’t let you stay latched on, tangling his fingers in your hair and holding you away as he shudders, “you wan’it? That makes you feel good, does it?” The pull of your hair feels good though, pussy clenching around nothing again.

“Mhm, being under my big brudder makes me feel good.” You can’t keep yourself from nuzzling into his hand when he releases you to get up onto his knees, and watch as he shoves the boxers down his thick thighs with slower motions than you wish he’d use. It’s a little unfair. Even in the low light, you can see the glossiness of his cockhead, the little trail of hair leading you all the way down to right between muscular legs- and your nails drag down the skin with a needy whine until he rests the heavy tip back onto your lips. Onto your squirming, little tongue.

Hajime’s breathing comes to a halt as you lick up the slit and glance up at him, and move your hand to reach under his cock too. “Mh-niichan? You wanted this, right? for how long?”

His eyes go half lidded as he hums. “Long.”

Another long lick sliding down, your spit coats the bottom of his twitching cock until you’re happily nestled at the base and press kisses down. “Is that why you only watch sister porn?”

He groans your name with a tight grunt, and you can see the way his chest caves. You guess it doesn’t really matter. Worse sins have been committed just tonight than your big brother fondling you in his bed, and pressing you down on his lap. But the way it flushes his neck and makes his eyes narrow is so satisfying, you almost don’t know what to do with yourself when he pushes you away from him to roll you onto your back, long fingers finding your neck. The press scares you for a split second, before the pressure makes way for entirely too much pleasure. “Still a fucking brat.” His olive irises flash as he watches you drop open your mouth again, and pull at his shirt with a moan.

“Take this off~ niichan, please. Please.” His shirt is discarded somewhere next to the bed, before he allows you to place your lips back to the thumping, blood-filled head of his cock and wrap them around it. It feels good, really good— and he tastes like Hajime, slowly starting to rock onto your tongue as his hand tightens in your hair.

“Wan- uhuh, fuck, I want to cum down your throat so bad. Use-m- my little sister’s mouth.” He’s heavy, and thick, and spit gets everywhere as you do your very best to hollow your cheeks around his hard cock each time he pushes a little farther in. But of course you gag when he pushes past your tongue into your tight throat, and grunts out your name. He pulls back to let you take a breath but fucks right back into you, now rocking his hips harder and deeper. You gag, and Hajime hums. “Tch, messy little sister. Good, tho- feels so good-” Your fingers squeeze around the part where you can’t quite reach, other hand on his balls, while spit goes everywhere.

“Fuck, I’m fucking my sister’s mouth, this is- so fucked.” You suck harder, and Hajime’s cock twitches in your mouth. “Uh- love— you, uhuh, that’s a good girl.” Your lips are stretched wide, and your throat burns around the intrusion, but the feeling just makes you so lightheaded. Floating off from the world as he cups your face with two hands and jackhammers into your mouth until you can’t tell up from down. Your muffled, sloppy ‘niichan, niichan’ only makes his shoulders raise higher, abs flexed each time he makes you bottom out around him, each time tears run down your face. Even when you gag and push back against him. “You love your big brother too, right?”

“Mhm,” you’re choking on it and enjoying it, breath flooding your lungs each time he pulls back far enough to let you— before you have to grab his thigh and open your teary eyes to glance up at him. “Niichan, Hajime nii, p-please. Want your cock, i-inside, want to be my big brother’s cockslut, plea~se.”

He hauls you up from him by your shoulders, rolls you onto your back as he stares into your eyes. Pupils blown wide, with the pretty sliver of green, he bites his lip so hard it must hurt. “Why— you keep saying shit like that, thinking I’m not going to react? Stop poking.” His long fingers glide from your shoulder up to your neck again, and squeeze just enough to have you seeing little stars that vanish when you look at them. It feels good. Hajime feels so good. With the light of the moon dusting along his edges, you slowly spread your legs on both sides of his body, and blink.

“Mean it. Mn-gh, nii~chan. Want your cock to fill me up, I wan’it so bad. Want you.” He looks rabid as he dips down to shove a thumb between your lips for you to suck, lingering in that heady feeling. More. You moan it around his finger as he pushes on your tongue, but he’s already distracted with the way you’re peeling your own panties down your legs, and how the stings of slick stretch from the fabric all the way to your gushing cunt. “Pl-uh-ese, nii-dan.” Your lewd sucking of his finger and the way you pull your lower legs around his glutes seems to be too much for him.

“Love ya, Hajime niichan.”

You feel his lips crash to yours before his cock is shoved into you, but it’s the latter that instantly has your arms wrap around his muscular back to cling on. Because he’s thick, heavy, and burning hot inside you. Wetness clicks and squelches as he slides all the way in and swallows up your moan. He pulls out, and slams back in hard enough to make your legs jerk. You feel him in your belly. You feel him in your throat. You feel him in your soul too, as he sucks your tongue and cups your cheek and palms your tits all at once. As he pulls out and hits a spot inside you you didn’t even know about, and fucks you so good it makes your toes curl.

“‘S our secret, okay?” he pants when he pulls back, lifting your legs to your chest. And you’re already nodding your head up and down before he has to ask more, letting out the shakiest whimper.

Your voice is extra sweet when you hum. “Of course. Promise~.”

Thirty seconds, and then you’re gone. Big dick or not, if Eren thinks he can leave you blue-balled and freezing, he can call for another bimbo and let her jerk him off. Even though you were really looking forward to it, and the picture he sent you was a nice reminder of a good friend you’re missing. Just thinking about it ignites a fire between your legs, makes your mouth water.

You hope you’ll leave his place on shaking legs tomorrow.

After another painful, long minute out in the cold, the intercom finally comes to life. Eren’s voice, even through the static, is deep and raspy.

“Who goes there?”

“Open the door, Jaeger.” Your patience is needle-thin. There’s a moment of silence, one dreadful, short moment in which you know Eren is thinking about every way possible that he can be an ass.

He doesn’t disappoint.

“State your business, and I might think about it.” The audible grin in his voice drives you mad. You know what he wants, and you didn’t wake up this morning for Eren to play you like a fiddle. Looking left and right, finding the entrance to the dormitory empty, with a voice drier than autumn leaves swept to the ground, you say, “I’m here to fuck you, Eren Jaeger.”

“Don’t sound too excited about it.” You imagine him standing there, bare-footed probably because he’s an animal like that, and rolling his eyes. But the door buzzes a second later. You shoulder it open, engulfed by the warmth, and find Eren’s apartment number on the mailbox lined up opposite from the elevator.

420.

The joke is blaring so loud it isn’t even funny.

Feeding him a taste of his own medicine, you choose the slow ascent of the staircase, and every floor you pass sends your heart beating higher and higher until your anticipation beats in your throat. Last time, after Eren was done with you, you had looked like you got mauled by someone which isn’t that far from the truth considering Eren fucks like he plays his overrated sports games. Like he’s got everything to lose.

He’s waiting for you, leaning against the door frame, hands in his pocket and barefooted—almost the definition of casual indifference. When you stand before him, he doesn’t move, just like earlier this day where he’s been an inconvenience in your own apartment.. He smiles slowly, a cat’s smile as it faces the mouse and contemplates how best to slay it.

Eren leans forward, his green eyes gleaming. His face is predatory, but his voice is gentle. “Didn’t take you long at all to get here. Needy, are we?”

You take another step closer, your chest almost touching his. Almost, because you’re a good head smaller than him. “I wasn’t the one fucking into my own hand all by myself,” you say, voice silky and calm like a lake’s surface on a windless day.

Amusement flickers in his eyes, brightens them before a shadow falls again. “But you couldn’t wait until tomorrow. You had to come as soon as I sent you a picture of my cock.”

It’s cute that he thinks he’s the sly fox, when every animal living in the forest knows that the most fearsome creature is the huntress wearing her prey’s fur coat. “And if we stopped talking,” you say, your fingers grazing where his shirt covers his solid, taut abdomen, “I might actually cum tonight.”

Eren smiles slowly, like the moon slipping slowly behind dark, heavy clouds. He steps aside, allowing you to enter the lion’s den.

You have barely time to take off your coat before Eren’s hands are all over you. He spins you around, hands cupping your face to tilt it back, granting him full access to your hot mouth, his own bruisingly hard. Restraint has never been a concept known to him, even though it looks so good on him—he’s tense in all the right places.

Without any preamble, his tongue explores your mouth, his teeth holding your bottom lip. One hand slides to your neck, his big, rough fingers cupping your throat gently—deceptively so, as he presses his hard, tall body against yours as if he’s trying to mould you into him.

Your fingers claw at his shirt tucked in his sweatpants, eager and impatient as you chase his mouth. He lifts his arms, letting you take his shirt off. You’re in no hurry to turn away your appreciative gaze from the hard dips and valleys of his body, the sharp v-line on his narrow hips. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, arms the size of your thighs and you remember clearly how they flexed when he held you in place in Connie’s bathroom weeks ago—all taut cord and strong muscles.

Eren looks glorious, like a mortal that Gods would sacrifice their own immortality for—if he wasn’t a Greek God himself. Impulsive and horrible, but pouring his everything into the one thing bringing him joy. Like playing with you.

It has your knees weak in anticipation and want. Your breath catches in your throat when Eren lowers his face to your neck, brushes where your pulse pounds with hungry teeth and hot lips curved into a sharp, wicked smile.

Out of the corner of your eyes you spot the couch in the adjacent living room. With your mouth still on his, you push him towards it, tip-toeing after him. Clearly amused, Eren lets you handle him whichever way you want. For now. His back hits the couch’s cushion as he falls into it, automatically spreading his legs for you to step between them, curling one hand around the loose, soft hair at the back of his neck.

Now Eren is the one tilting his head back to look up at you, the sight far from unpleasant as his eyes dip down to the low cut of your cleavage. Funny, how he looks at you as if you are the Goddess and he’d sacrifice anything for just a minute between your legs, in your arms.

“Eager, are we?” he says, his broad hands splayed wide on your hips as you crawl atop him, leaning down to pepper hasty, open-mouthed kisses on his sharp jawline, to lick and suck at the pulse point where you can feel the beating of his heart.

“Do me a favour,” you say into the crook of his neck, “and shut up. Just let me have my fill, okay?”

Eren thinks about that for a moment. His hands roam from your hips to your ass, squeeze once, twice. And then they fall away, back to his sides, and you hate how much you already hate the loss of them. “Sure. But you have to give me a good show, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “Whatever.”

You’re too eager, too hungry for a good fuck to notice. If you had taken one moment to look into his eyes, to see what is lurking behind those sharp, marble green eyes, you would have realised that you were about to get into far more than you bargained for.

You would have known asking Eren for anything is like summoning up the devil. The devil might grant your wish, but afterwards, you’re out of a soul.

But you don’t spend a second questioning his laid back, easy willingness (nothing about Eren Jaeger is easy), not with the constant throbbing between your legs; certainly not with the visible outline of his hard dick that jolts when your fingertips graze him.

Shuffling closer, your knees hitting the back of the couch, closing around Eren’s waist, you lower your hot, still-clothed pussy onto his bulge straining through his pants. Just that contact makes Eren groan, makes drool collect at the corners of your mouth. You slide against his clothed crotch, dry-humping his dick in slow, hard rolls, one hand splayed flat against his lower abdomen so you can feel every time it flexes and hardens when he rocks up into you.

His fingers hook under the hem of your sweater. With a swift motion, he pulls it off, hands immediately drawing to your tits like magnets pulled in, fitting perfectly. He squeezes them, pinches your hardened nipples through the fabric of your lace bra as you speed up rolling your hips against his.

Eren pinches the fabric of your flared skirt between his fingers and lifts it, watching you move against his hard dick, a lazy, content smile spreading on his face like a cat that’s found a comfortable spot in the warm sun and is in no hurry to leave.

That placid light in his eyes quickly turns into a wicked gleam though when he sinks his fingers into your tights, right at your crotch, and yanks the fabric apart. The ripping sound is like a gunshot, breaking your rhythm as your hips stutter. More heat pools into your belly—a delicious mixture between arousal and anger.

“You owe me a new one, asshole,” you grunt, digging your fingers into his arms. Eren just grins, one hand getting a firm hold of your waist to keep you moving.

Soon, the friction isn’t enough. You prop yourself up on his arms, one hand sliding down between your legs where you slide the fabric of your underwear to the side. You don’t miss how Eren’s eyes are glued to the thin thread connecting your drooling cunt with your slip. He’s raising his hips to shuffle out of his own pants just enough for his cock to spring free, hitting his lower stomach. He’s holding your half-lidded gaze, curling his fingers around his hard, long dick. Oh, how much you’ve missed him, and you can’t help but stare at his girth, the thick vein running along the underside—

“Don’t start drooling now,” Eren says, laughing quietly to himself.

“You wish,” you mumble, and very discreetly try to swallow the spit that’s pooling in your mouth.”

You collect the slick of your arousal and spread it on your warm, soft pussy, pads of your fingers circling your clit slowly as you watch Eren pumping his cock just as slow—lazy strokes from where his balls rest, up to the angry flushed tip of his cock. Your thighs clench as you hold yourself up, immediately stuffing two fingers inside your throbbing hole. The stretching burns, but you can’t help and sigh at finally filling yourself.

Eren still holds onto your waist. His throat flexes when he swallows, eyes riveted on your drooling cunt.

“Want me to do it?” he asks, noticing the uncomfortable angle of your wrist as you fuck your fingers inside you.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip. “Sure.”

Eren grins. “Say please.”

“Fuck you.”

“Preferable within the next hour, yeah.”

Your voice is dry, devoid of any emotion. “Oh, my darling Jaeger. Please.”

He squeezes your thigh, hard. “Good girl.”

Eren chuckles when your thighs jolt slightly at the praise, and you make it a point to hold his gaze when he challenges you to say something about it. When you don’t relent, he raises his fingers to your mouth, tapping the rough pads against your lips. “Open up.”

You roll your eyes but part your lips, sticking your tongue out slightly. Eren drags his fingers over your warm, wet tongue until his knuckles press against the corners of your mouth. His fingers are so deep in your mouth, too close to your throat, and you can feel tears well in your eyes.

Deeming his fingers sufficiently wet, he pulls his hand back and drops it between your legs where he slides his fingers between your wet folds, collecting your slick, and enters your weeping hole with one thick finger. Again, the stretch has your mouth open, your eyes half-closed. He sinks his finger knuckle-deep inside you, runs them along your hot, gummy walls. And then stills. You wiggle your hips, trying to encourage him to move, but Eren is immovable like a marble statue, watching you with hawkish eyes.

“Do you mind?” you ask, grabbing onto his wrist and sinking his finger deeper inside you.

Eren’s little laugh is dark. Condescending, even. “I’m just here for the show. If you wanna get off, you have to put in some work.”

The answer to that gets stuck in your throat when he curls his finger inside you. You glare at him, but fine. You don’t need him. You’ll just use him until you’ve had your fill and then go, see that he can hump his pillow or something.

“Oh, don’t make that face,” Eren coos, dragging a thumb over your jutted lower lip. “You look so cute pouting like that, it makes me want to be even meaner to you.”

He seals your mouth shut with his before you can throw an insult at him—or even worse, challenge him to actually be mean as the gnawing pit of hunger in your belly demands.

Now holding his wrist steady, you lift your hips agonisingly slow and sink back down, up, down. Up, and this time Eren sneakily bullies his second finger inside you, still not giving you any more friction than the one you create as you fuck yourself open on his fingers. Sometimes, when he’s feeling generous, he brushes your clit with his thumb—either in a slow, hard brush, or just a quick tap. It’s enough to drive you insane.

“You’re such … an asshole,” you hiss between gritted teeth, angling your hips this and that way to make his fingers brush against the bundle of nerves inside you that make you see stars.

“You like it,” Eren says a little breathless, dragging his thumb over your clit in a harsh swipe. His lips move along your cheekbone to your throat and you swallow a moan. “I like that you like it.”

“Shut up.” You smash your mouth on his, hungrily, just all teeth and tongue and whatever drool escapes the corners of his lips, your tongue travels that path until you nibble on his jawline, his chin, trying to bounce on his fingers until it isn’t enough and you feel that abysmal yearning for more, more, more eat you up from inside.

You yank his fingers out and take his cock, hard and hot, leaking at the tip, to align it with your sloppy cunt. Eren watches with glittering, wide eyes as you continue to roll your hips against his cock, slicking it up with your own arousal until it glistens in the dim light, thin threads of your slick connecting to his rock-hard shaft, clinging to the protruding vein at the underside.

He’s digging his fingers into your clothed thighs, holding your legs open. His breath grows laboured, drowned by the slick sound of you rubbing yourself on him, and you could swear there are hearts in his eyes as his mind drowns in the sight of your wet folds.

You aren’t doing any better. You can’t stop staring at his dark tip catching at your clit, pushing against it, and when you sink down to his balls, his shaft resting against your pubic mound, he stands hard and proud, almost all the way up to your navel.

You forgot how big he really is. But does that stop you? Of course not. Your mother raised no quitter, go big or go home, and if you can’t go home at all because you can’t walk after you’re done with Eren, nobody cares. Certainly not you.

Steadying your feet on the couch, you squat to align your hole with his cock, his fat tip kissing your entrance. Eren, the gentleman that he is, helps you by splaying his hands over your ass, sinking his fingers into the plump flesh. You both watch as you lower yourself slowly, your cunt swallowing his tip first—the breach has your mouth wide open, a silent cry and Eren grunting—then the rest of him, still moving so slowly that you can accommodate to the girth, the heavy feeling of him sliding inside you inch by inch, hot and heavy and thick.

“Wait, wait.” Eren holds you still, pausing your excruciatingly slow descent. He ignores the positively lethal glare you bend on him. “What about a condom?”

“Just pull out in time.” If he’s thinking he can hold you back from getting dicked down any longer, he’s so, so wrong. You wiggle your hips, gently bouncing in place on the upper half of his shaft, working yourself open. Eren throws his head back, his fingers digging into your ass at the friction, breathless laughter escaping his parted lips. You can see a dark line where he has bitten his bottom lip, or maybe you have bitten it.

“Because that worked out so well last time,” he says. Pictures flood the back of your half-closed eyes. The sink Eren had bent you over at Connie’s party, ploughing into you like an animal. And when he’d cum, his thighs shaking, his grip on your elbows pulling them back bruising, he’d filled you up to the brim, until it leaked down your legs, onto the floor. It had felt so warm, so good.

You grin. “Didn’t knock me up, did you?”

“Would you like that?” His voice is rough, scratchy. “For me to knock you up?”

You hate how your body betrays you, how you clench and he isn’t even all the way in. Eren chokes on a moan as your legs begin to shake at his sides. He pats your legs, encouraging you to continue your journey down on his cock. “What a beautiful answer,” he croons.

Your heart pounds in your ears. It is so, so hot; hot as if you’re burning up from the inside. Your face contorts slightly, the moan catching in your throat as his cock splits you open, forces your tight, clenching walls to part and take him in, accept him. Accept all that he’s giving you.

A warm hand gently slides up to the back of your neck. Your eyes flutter open—when did you close them?—shaking the tears loose that have collected at your lashes like morning dew clinging to curved leaves.

“Breathe,” Eren says, almost softly. Something warm skitters in your chest at the nearly caressing expression on his face. “You’ve done this before. You can do it again. You can take it.”

That warm feeling evaporates, quickly replaced by stinging annoyance. “Great advice, coach.”

When Eren grins at that, a little crookedly, the tight knot in your stomach eases a little. Maybe you aren’t the only one struggling right now. You try to relax, take one deep, shuddering breath. Allow yourself to sink down a little more, feeling the drag of his fat tip against your walls. When he’s finally, finally balls deep inside you, you take a moment to get used to his girth, gently rocking your hips back and forth.

Eren’s hands find their way back home around your thighs, nails digging into your flesh and leaving angry, crescent marks on your skin even through the fabric of your tights. His back against the cushion, head leaning slightly against the rest. Chest falling and rising with every deep breath, one hand steals between your spread legs and his thumb drags one of your lower lips to the side to allow him a spectacular few of where you’re pierced and drooling on his dick.

“Look at that,” he drawls, his voice gravely low. He’s smiling like he’s just won the lottery, a warmth in his eyes that has a prickly, pleasant feeling pooling in the pit of your stomach. The closest word you can think of how he looks at you is adoration. “See how much she missed me?”

“You’re so disgusting,” you mumble, but that doesn’t stop you from lifting your hips, up and further up until his leaking tip catches at your clenching hole. It doesn’t want to let him go. You don’t want to let him go.

You sink your fingers into his muscular arms to steady yourself and begin to bounce on his dick. Eren’s face, contorted with pleasure, deserves its own painting to commemorate it. His brows furrow, his jaw tenses. You watch the beads of sweat collect at his temples as you immediately take on a spine-breaking pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Good fucking cunt, treating me so well.” Eren’s smile has vanished, and the warm spark in his eyes is suddenly ablaze—a roaring fire, threatening to consume you. “Wish I could film this … put a camera right behind you and see your cunt swallowing my dick. Would you like that?”

No, you want to say. Instead, you moan, your body twitches for a second, and that is answer enough. Eren smiles placidly. “Of course you do.”

He frees your tits by yanking your lace bra down and stares at them bouncing whenever you sink down on him hard enough that you feel his dick in your throat. It feels like a fire is licking up from your knees up to your thighs. You have to put your knees down, get into a more comfortable position that won’t have you end up in the ER at the end of this night—

“Oh, no, no,” Eren coos when your knees sink into the cushion. He grabs onto them, lifting them again, slightly changing the angle at which you sink onto his cock. “Come on, be a good girl. Keep ‘em up. That’s right, just like that,” he adds when you dutifully return to bounce on his lap in a squatting position. “Just like that.”

You hate noticing how much your body reacts to his voice. You can hear him struggling too, his little grunts whenever you sink down completely, stuff your cunt with his monster of a cock. It all accumulates to the tight knot in your abdomen to tighten further, the pleasure a hard-clenched fist around your fuzzy mind.

“Oh God—God, I’m—I’m close,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for leverage, feeling his muscles strain.

“Are you?” Eren places a warm hand at the back of your neck, pulling your forehead against his shoulder. “You’re doing such a good job, fucking yourself on my cock, such a good job,” he growls in your ear. “Come on, you can let go. You can cum.”

He tries and fails to sound as if he’s got it all under control, feeling you tipping closer and closer to the edge of becoming completely untethered—your walls tighten vice-like around his cock. He grits his teeth and grabs your ass harshly, moving you up and down, up and down, using you like a ragdoll and helping you bounce on his cock—he’s not even fucking you himself, just moving you like one of those pocket pussies, like you weight nothing and manhandling you all the way he pleases is nothing but child’s play.

His hot mouth maps out your temples, your cheekbones, your jaw. He kisses your cheek deceptively soft, and with a harsh, sharp whisper against your mouth he grunts, “You can cum like the good little slut that you are for me.”

Something inside you just snaps, something you’ve been trying to hold onto so desperately and finally, you’re free.

Eren slams you down on his cock when you cum so hard your whole body shakes, the tears clinging to your lashes finally rolling free, and he keeps you pierced on his cock, feeling every twitch and convulsion of your hot walls as your mouth falls open in a loud cry. His groan vibrates through his whole body as he continues to move your hips in shaky, desperate rolls, starving for more friction, more of your spasming walls.

When your sweaty body finally stills and you slump against him, Eren already begins to pull you off his dick and your battered pussy retaliates by clutching tightly around him as if saying Don’t go yet. I still need you inside me.

You’re hiding your face in the crook of his neck, patting weakly at his shoulder. “St-stop, wait … wait a second, please.” You’re still so sensitive, the slow drag of his cock is too much friction on your overstimulated, swollen cunt.

Eren mouths at your neck, his tongue running in lazy swipes over your skin. “Did you enjoy using me as your personal dildo?”

You whimper when his fingers dig in your thighs again. He yanks you off his dick, and you both stare at the thread of slick between your legs still connecting you two before Eren wipes his dick off on the inside of your thigh.

With a swift movement—with way too much control than you want to give him credit for, he rises to his feet, you still clinging to him with all your might. “’Cause now it’s my turn to use you as my cute, little cocksleeve.”

His words make you shake, your legs locking tight around his narrow waist. Eren carries you to this dark bedroom, and in true Eren fashion, he almost trips over a heap of dirty clothes lying by his bed and nearly breaks both your necks.

“Oops.” You can feel his boyish grin against your skin as he reaches over to the night stand where a lamp flickers to life, and before you can tell him to pick up his dirty, stinky clothes, his mouth is already back on yours. He spreads you on his sheets, pulls off your skirt, tights and underwear. You don’t notice your phone falling out of your pocket on the bed as he throws your clothes to the ground without any care, quickly followed by his own pants after he shakes them off.

And then Eren just looks at you for a moment. Takes all of you in with eyes starved and gleaming with something that might be unadulterated awe—as if you are an exhibit usually sealed away behind highly secured iron doors and finally, he has you all to himself.

It all takes less than a minute, but Eren’s hands fly back to your body as if you two have been apart for years. He lets them roam over every stretch and fold, his fingers tracing the curves of you, the dips and hollows of your body, his rough lips following closely after. Not an inch is spared by his hungry mouth—he sucks nasty bruises on your shoulders and collarbones, digs his fingers into wherever your soft skin yields as if he tries to leave imprints there, as though you are a thing fashioned from a potter’s hands and Eren is the artist.

Your tits fill out his warm, rough palm completely, a perfect match as he holds them and pinches your nipples, with his fingers first, then his teeth. He settles between your spread legs and kisses a trail down to your stomach, to your swollen cunt, where he presses his hot tongue flat against it.

“Wait, gimme just … five—five minutes,” you slur, digging your heels into his shoulders and trying to push him off, but Eren just grabs your ankle and holds your leg, spreading your further open.

“You gotta keep up, pretty girl,” Eren mouths against your wet folds. His tongue dips into your hole, followed by his fingers. “You had your fun, now it’s my turn. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

A thrill of anticipation shoots up your spine, arching your back into a beautiful curve that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head—and looking right at the line of big-breasted figurines in skimpy outfits that don’t deserve to be called clothes.

“Oh my god,” you say, slumping back into the mattress. “I’m not going to fuck you with all your fake girlfriends watching us.”

Eren follows your gaze, lapping at your cunt, fingers plunging in and out of your hole in lazy movements, and if your hips slightly jerk against his face to create friction, you’ll deny any such thing ever happened.

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare say that about Rei Ayanami.”

“What? That she’s not real?” Sometimes, with the way he acts like he’s a walking sex God, it’s easy to forget what a huge fucking nerd he is.

Eren pinches your thigh. “No need to be jealous. I’m paying attention to you now, aren’t I, baby?”

“It’s not about that.” As if Eren needed his ego more fed. “And anyway, isn’t Asuka way better?”

His eyes nearly sparkle. “Where have you been all my life?” He sighs and dives back between your legs. You didn’t think such simple words would have any impact on you, but here you are, heat scalding your ears.

“Oh, you are so pretty when you’re all embarrassed,” Eren croons. He kneads at your thighs, grabbing them hard as if they’re his personal anti-stress toy. “I can’t wait to see how you’ll look when I fuck you stupid.”

“I forgot,” you say dryly, “you can be such a romantic.”

“Any time.” Eren gives your clit tiny, sharp kitten licks with the tip of his tongue that have your legs twitching shut. A harsh slap from him on your thigh makes you jump. “Keep ‘em open for me.”

Your hand travels down to where he’s holding painfully hard onto your thigh, your fingers brushing and holding onto each other for a moment. If anyone else saw you, they might confuse you for lovers. That is until Eren leans back and spits on your cunt, spreading it with so much fondness as if he were putting paint on a gilded canvas.

“I hope you’re ready, baby girl,” Eren says to your cunt. “I’m gonna mess you up real good.” He places a last parting kiss on your clit, then flips you around, arranging you however he wants: on your knees, legs spread painfully wide, ass up, your face in his pillow.

You hug it closely to your chest, not daring to turn around. Your reward is a harsh slap to your ass that has you shuddering so hard your teeth rattle before Eren, pressing his thighs against yours, slides right back in, grunting low and content.

“Home, sweet home, baby,” he sighs, sliding in and in and in, and finally he’s fully back inside you, balls resting against your slick folds. You can’t help yourself—you giggle. At his joke, at him stretching you out blissfully. Who the fuck even cares anymore?

Finally, he moves, aaaall the way out, then aaall the way back in, and because patience isn’t a word in his dictionary, he begins to snap his hips against yours at a brutal pace. The stretch still feels impossibly good, every inch dragging over your sensitive walls and unravelling thought after thought until your mind is empty and only filled with Eren’s cock, Eren’s cock, Eren’s cock.

Eren laughs, driving you forward with every harsh thrust. You have to catch your body against his headboard before he smacks your head right against it with how rough he fucks you.

“What? Am I fucking you stupid? You feeling so good you can’t talk like a normal person?” he says, and to your horror you realise you must have said that out loud; must have worshipped his cock out loud.

You press your face into his pillow, and if you suffocate like this, you don’t care. It beats having to deal with the embarrassment of admitting how fucking good it feels, each relentless thrust that Eren puts so much force behind that you can’t stop mewling into his pillow. He fucks you good—so good, you want to forget your name.

Vrrrr. Vrrrr. It takes a long moment for your fucked out mind to understand what is happening. Eren, with his head still too clear for your liking, pauses for a moment. Still connected to you, rocking his hips gently into you, he digs around the blanket he’s half kicked off his bed. You’re still unable to comprehend. That is until you hear Eren’s snort behind you, and then he throws something right next to your head.

An incoming call on your phone set on vibration.

Calling ID: my little pony 🐎

“Oh no,” you blurt, hand springing forward to decline the call.

“Oh yes.” Eren is faster. He seizes your wrist, unfairly easy with just one hand, and with his thumb, he swipes right to accept the phone call.

Your mouth goes dry as a desert.

“Ey, where the hell did you go? Sasha and Connie are coming over and I need pop tarts,” Jean says.

You need to die. Right now. Eren pulls your arm back by your wrist, settling it on your lower back. You don’t trust yourself to speak and tell him you’re going to kick his ass to Narnia. With a chair.

“Heeellooooo? Can you go and get them or what?”

“I don’t think,” Eren says, driving his cock all the way back only to drill it inside you with enough force to punch an obscene moan out of your lungs, “that’s possible, horse face.”

You slap your free hand on your mouth, feeling your heart beat in your throat. If Eren’s pillow combusts it’s from all the heat radiating off your face.

“Jesus,” Jean says, “Christ.”

Eren laughs, and you hate how the sound, so clear like an early summer’s day, makes you feel, makes something flutter in your chest. He ruts shallowly into you, making sure the fat tip of his cock presses right against the bundle of nerves deep inside you. You feel your eyes rolling back, your hips bucking into him on their own accord as you try to fuck yourself back onto him. You almost miss Jean’s next words. Almost. Because the screeching tilt to his voice is barely something you can blank out.

“I thought you two didn’t get along?!”

“We get along splendidly when I’m inside her,” Eren says.

“Oh God, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Don’t be shy now.” Eren is on a roll, it seems. “You can wipe out your tiny dick and jerk off to it, I don’t mind.”

“I. Mind,” you grit out over the sound of Eren abusing your cunt while Jean squeals, “My dick isn’t tiny, you asshole!”

It sounds a little as if Jean is having an existential crisis on the other line. You’re very close to having one yourself at the feeling of more and more slick pooling between your legs, gushing onto the mattress. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Eren, the slick and easy slide. His speed increases. He’s nearly pounding into you again.

“Bitch, didn’t you say you’d rather open Only Fans than fuck him again?” Jean asks you, appalled. You never in your whole life wanted him to shut up so bad like right now.

“Oh?” Eren presses his damp, bare chest into your back, pushing you into the mattress. He leans over your shoulder, to your ear on the other side from the phone and hisses darkly and quietly, “Would have loved to see that. Watch you stuff your cute little cunt with big, big toys. Would have donated money to you so you could buy them. Not that toys will ever satisfy you again after I’m done with you.”

You whine, spreading your legs even wider to grant him better access.

Jean makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like gagging. “Why is this happening? You’re the last two people I wanna hear going at it like rabbits.”

Content with his work, Eren leans back, changes his angle so that he’s fucking up into you. He groans when your walls grip him so tight that he has to bully his dick back inside you. “You’re—you’re still here, horse face.”

“Fuck.” The tone of Jean’s voice changes. “Yeah, this shit is like a car crash.”

“Next time,” Eren says, “come over and watch. I’m sure she’ll like that.”

“I—I’m gonna … gonna kill you,” you drawl, and yet your body betrays you and reacts to his words, not because it’s Jean but because apparently, you’re a slut for exhibitionism and Eren knows.

“Okay, that’s my cue to go and bleach my ears. You better be using protection, you psychopaths.”

Your phone lights up when the call disconnects. Finally. Eren leans over you again, marking up your neck with sharp, hungry teeth, biting into the heated skin. “’M sure he’s jealous.”

So that’s what this is about. He just wanted to prove a point, that you and him aren’t a thing, that you two are nothing, but if Eren possesses something, no matter how brief or the context of the relationship, he has to let other people know, and he pretty much smacked a neon-sign in Jean’s face that right now you are Eren’s. That you belong to him.

“You’re a freak,” you mumble, rolling your hips against his. Wanton and desperate. He can claim you all he wants; you don’t even care anymore.

Eren grins against your sweaty, hot skin. “Good thing, right? Or else you wouldn’t be here.”

He shifts his position, keeps one knee pressed into the mattress, and lifts his other to put his foot down to put more weight behind his thrusts. You thought it impossible, but like that, he hits you even deeper—you wish someone would take a picture right now as he mounts you, draping his broad chest over your back and circles his strong arms your shoulder to cage you; pushes one of his arms against your throat to choke you.

This is how animals fuck: unabashed, filthy. With one aim only. To breed.

With your hand now free, you grab onto his hair, pulling it loose from its low bun. Eren turns his head, running his mouth along your open palm, your wrist as he gets lost in the merciless rhythm of fucking you, aiming to destroy you. Your throat becomes hoarse from the screams and moans he punches out of you.

When he pushes you over the edge a second time, your knees buckle, unable to hold you up any longer as shockwaves grip your body, your walls fluttering around Eren’s cock.

This time, he doesn’t relish in the spasm and contract of your tight walls. He pulls out and flips you over on your back, laying the weight of his whole massive body on top of you as he slides back in. Only his hips snap with a ferocity as if he’s trying to break your spine; he is all desperation as his body cages yours.

His warm hands hold your head, cupping your cheeks. He looks at you with his eyes blown black from desire, half-closed, mouth hanging open. His thumbs press into your forehead as he eats up the sight of your fucked-out, blissful expression: eyes puffy from crying, nose running, drool sticking to the corners of your mouth and chin. Your heart-eyes on him.

“Gorgeous, so gorgeous,” he mumbles, and a jolt of unadulterated desire strikes your body at the sight of him becoming untethered because he feels so good fucking you. You are the one making him absolutely drunk on your pussy. “Lemme ruin that pussy for any other dick, will you? Can’t get off on any other dick except mine. Can’t fuck anyone else except me.”

You nod and nod and nod, licking your lips, swallowing. Eren smashes his mouth on yours, biting at your lips. “I’m gonna make this pussy a slut for my dick. No one can ever fuck you like I do. Ever.”

It’s so much, too much; you haven’t even recovered from your second orgasm and now Eren’s giving it to you like there is no tomorrow. Like today is your last day on earth and his whole purpose is to drill the shape of his cock inside you.

Something inside you snaps. You can’t keep up with this, can’t hold Eren’s searing gaze any longer. You shake your head, trying to break free from his hold. Somewhere you snatch a pillow and try to hide behind it, but Eren is having none of it.

“Oh, no, no, no, you can’t hide from me.” He cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping off tears as he licks into your mouth, lets you suck on his tongue. “Look at me.” He shakes you slightly until you do. “Look at me.”

You do. You look right into his unfathomable, green eyes and it’s nearly enough to make you come undone.

“Look at this.” He tilts your head, cupping the back of your neck gently, until you can look down your bodies, see how Eren’s massive cock disappears into your body as he hammers at your cunt. The outline of him inside you.

You laugh and cry, tears running hot paths down your temples.

“Look at how I’m fucking you,” he continues, his voice thick with the need to devour you. “You love it, don’t you, baby? Love, love, love how I fuck you like a whore.”

Nodding yet again, your nails dig bloody crescent marks into his arms as you hold onto him as if your life depends on it.

“Say it.” Eren’s thrusts lose his momentum as his hips stutter. He’s getting close, chasing his own climax without any care for you. More tension coils in your lower abdomen at that thought, driving you crazy. “Use your words, baby. Say how much you love it.”

“Y-your cock,” you whimper. You don’t recognise your own voice, it sounds so gone, so completely out of it. “Your cock sh-should live in there … that’s how mu-much I love … love it.”

Eren groans. His thrusts become so powerful he’s making you both bounce on the mattress and you have to lock your legs around his waist. “Such a filthy mouth.” He hooks his thumb around your teeth and yanks your mouth open. Spits in it. “I love it. I love it.”

When you swallow his spit like a good girl, he looks at you as if you are sculpture, something shaped a thousand years ago in the likeness of a pagan deity, as if you are absolutely divine—but his words are utter filth, delicious music to your ears: “Love this pussy so much, taking me so well. Treating my dick so good. C’mon, say it. Who’s fucking your brains out? Who’s messing up this fucking cunt?”

This time, you aren’t even hesitating as you shake with the force of his thrusts. “Y-you, you, you.” Your arms circle around his shoulders as you hold onto him. “E-Eren, Eren, Eren!”

“F-fuuuck!” His voice rings in your ear as he stuffs your cunt with one final, hard thrust and stays as he empties his balls inside you, stuffing you full with load after load of hot, thick cum. He groans your name as if it is the only word that holds any meaning in his entire existence; as if you are the only thing that keeps him from getting unwoven. Your walls milk him hard as he pushes you, no kicks you over the edge a third time this evening.

You cry against his thick neck, little hiccups and wet moans as Eren slides out fully, only to snap back inside, once, twice, and a last time. And finally, he slumps against you, exhausted and with his heart beating so hard against his ribcage you can feel it knock against your own chest.

The silence is like balm to a wound as you take the time to catch your breaths. Eren is hiding his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling audibly as his nose brushes along your throat.

“That was—” he begins, his voice throaty. You can feel his fingers gliding through your hair, smoothing it back.

“Yeah … yeah, that was something,” you agree, and proceed to lie flat like a pancake under him, not moving as his mouth plants lazy kisses on your shoulder. That is until you feel Eren’s warm cum leak out of you, slowly sliding between your ass crack and down his balls. You can feel him pull a grimace against your neck.

“Lemme go clean up.” You pat his shoulder until he pushes himself off you, his mouth curled downward. His frown only lasts until he, holding your legs open, slowly pulls out and watches your cunt push out another load of his cum.

“Pretty,” he says, thumbing at your hole.

You throw your arm over your eyes. “Your pull-out game is on top, as always.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to pull out.”

He’s right, but you don’t have to tell him that. All you want right now is to curl up and sleep for the next three days.

But Eren, who has the cock and stamina of a horse, picks you up easily in his arms, and the only reason he stumbles is because on the way to the bathroom, he trips over his dirty clothes a second time. “Oops.”

You’re too tired to comment on it. Too tired to answer anything when he goes full nerd and chats you up about the final instalment of the Evangelion movies as he sits you on the toilet lid while searching for a clean washcloth in one of his cupboards. When he soaks it in warm water and carefully wipes it between your legs, having to lean down slightly, you reach out and squish his cheeks, finally silencing him.

“What do I have to do to make you shut up?” you say.

Eren’s eyes dip to your mouth for a moment. “Sit on my face next time.”

His answer surprises you enough you lose your hold on him and he dives forward to smack a wet kiss on your mouth.

You blink at him, a little dazzled. “Next time?”

He grins. “Why not? I think we’re a pretty good match.”

That’s a persuading point. It’s a persuasive enough for you to lean forward and gently lick at the curve of his v-line, to slide your hands up his waist, over his hard packs. Eren’s eyes immediately darken. You’ll have to see if he can hold out another round first, because he has yet to learn how insatiable you are. Insatiable and over-indulgent. But this indulgence, him, is like playing with fire, and you have no problem becoming the match to set it off.

a/n: part 3 threesome w/ jean, let’s go

i’m joking.

am i?

***

shamless self-ad, please go check out my canon (with divergence) eren/fem!reader series! 🥺👉👈 the mutual pining is going hard right now and they’re both kinda dumb about it.

will have explicit sexual content later which will be marked for minors to not interact with those chapters

○ Masterlist ○

Head spinning in a frenzy of confusion, senses overheated not knowing where they should focus, legs trembling, drool running down chin and breathing so fast it almost hurt every time lungs breathed out and in. This is you.

Below him. With one of his hands around your neck with just enough pressure to confuse your senses a little more, and not necessarily to stop your breathing. Seconds earlier you had tried to escape his hands because of the overstimulation he was doing to your abused and leaking pussy and it's possible to tell that he hadn't reacted all that well.

He is the kind who likes to play with your sensations and challenge how well your sanity can handle long minutes of orgasm denial only to then push you into as many orgasms as he thinks are good enough to make you look all stupid. And who did you think you were to try to run out of his hands? You were begging to cum minutes before, what changed now? He was just giving you exactly what you asked for, right?

— Oh, just one more time, pretty thing. — He whispered in a husky voice and his lips still a little wet from the time his head was between your legs, sucking and licking you carefully so as not to make you cum too soon. — I swear this is the last time. — From the mischievous tone in his voice, it was obvious that this was not the last time, and you felt your eyes water at the thought of the possibility of continuing in that abyss of pleasure that ached deep in your core. — Don't you want to feel good again, hm? Don't you want to look all pretty with your slutty face all contorted for me? Y’know how I like to see you cum, don't you?

You could barely force yourself to speak. The only things that escaped your mouth were moans, his name broken up by your breathing and whimpering and although you didn't want to cum again, your body was begging for it. You needed to somehow relieve the tension coursing through you and he was determined to help you do that. Isn't he a good boyfriend? Oh, yes, he is, all nice to you, with his fingers deep inside you and playing over and over again that obscene wet sound escaping from your overly sensitive and messy pussy.

Your eyes closed tightly and he gripped your hair tightly to force you to open them and stare at him breathlessly as your hips kept trying to pull away from his digits rapidly moving in and out of your tight entrance.

— Eyes on me, I wanna see that beautiful face of yours as you cum again. — You moaned, trying to get him to stop, to let you breathe properly, but then suddenly his fingers hit that sweet spot inside your gummy walls and you were again melting over his hand.

Your pussy squirting completely and you seeing white stars as your body was forcefully pulled into yet another mind-blowing, intoxicating orgasm. Your brain was about to go foul, he knew this, he loved knowing this.

— Ooh, no! Look at this... — He rubbed his palm against your clit as you continued to squirt against it. — Look at the mess you've made, stupid girl. Now what? — You felt his body pull away and fingers pull out of your abused cunt, now wetter than ever. And seconds later, suddenly, you noticed a small calming breath beating against your swollen clit. — I have to clean you, right? What kind of a guy would I be if I left my pretty girl like this, all messed up? — A wicked smile crept across his lips.

#. hanma, RINDOU, izana, HARUCHIYO

The very moment you tried to push him away with your hands squeezing his shoulders and whimpering several stupid "P-Please", "I... cannot, I-I" and his eyes stared at you seriously with dilated pupils, you knew you were fucked.

Within seconds of your attempt to escape the overstimulation, his hands were grabbing, groping, manhandling your body as if you were a rag doll, and laying you face down and pulling your ass up on the bed. A dildo shoved deep inside your cunt and a small one pressed against your swollen and throbbing clit, your boyfriend's palm coming down against both sides of your ass.

The skin in that area beginning to burn and throb, your body not knowing whether to focus on extinguishing the pain until it slowly faded away only to be reaggravated by the stiff palm of the man above you or to focus on enduring the overstimulation caused by the sex toys. Your pussy clenching every time another slap was made against your ass, body had been so well trained by him that almost everything he gave you was taken as a stimulus to your silly little brain.

And he was enjoying watching you cum several times as a complete slobbering mess, moaning in a mixture of pain and pleasure. It made it even better for him to know that you didn't even try to close your legs or take the vibrators out of your cunt because you knew it would be worse to try to escape again.

— A good bunny can always be a good slut too, right? — Your boyfriend whispered with a sideways smile. — Look at you, moaning yourself hoarse from some slapping and some stupid toys in your pretty lil’ cunny. For someone who didn't want it, you seem to be enjoying it so much that I can almost believe you pretended not to want it. — A small laugh came from his lips and one of his hands rubbed your ass right over the spot he had slapped it earlier before squeezing your skin there. — All fucked up, you look gorgeous like this.

The dildo slowly pulled out of your cunt and you breathed a sigh of relief thinking that his punishment session was completely over. Until you felt his leaking tip rub against your sensitive folds and immediately your fingers dug into the bed sheets.

— Hm? Where did all the attitude go before? Have you finally learned your place? — He leaned over your body with hands pulling your hips against his and sliding just the tip of his cock into you. — Have you decided to learn that it's worse if you try to escape? — Your head timidly nodded and you bit your lower lip feeling him finish invading your insides with eyes rolling up and legs trembling from another round of overstimulation. — Fuck, your pretty lil’ pussy swallowing me, I guess you lied about not wanting this, princess, am I right?

#. RAN, kisaki, haruchiyo, IZANA

Dissimulation. That's exactly what he can be or try to be.

He saw you begging him to stop giving you too much stimulation and made a faux expression of sympathy by nodding head in agreement and momentarily pulling away. His eyes still glazed over at the way your pussy was leaking and clenching now around nothing and a small, sideways smile on his lips.

And then he leaned down to take your lips in an intense, tender kiss as hands landed on your thighs. The kiss was only a distraction, obvious, but still: it felt so good to feel his mouth against yours; you were so distracted by such a small action that you didn't notice how his fingers dug into your inner thighs to spread your legs a little wider every second. His tongue sliding into your mouth, body resting on top of yours again, cock brushing against your folds again and your hands trying to push him away again.

— Babe, I-I cannot-- — Before you could finish speaking, his hands were already leaving you completely exposed and the tip of his dick was sliding back into your tight entrance.

But only the tip. And yet your walls throbbed, wanting to both push him out and swallow him some more. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he saw that even your body didn't know if you wanted to stay there or not. He would make you want to.

— Cannot what, hm? — His face tilted in your direction and your mouth opened into a little "O" shape that you couldn't tell if it was in pain or pleasure as your boyfriend above you began to slowly sink into your cunt. — Your pussy seems to be wanting it too much, you shouldn't be lying to me like that, sweetie. — His voice was so falsely sweet, so honey-soaked that a shiver ran down your back and your walls tightened around his shaft. — See? You can feel yourself squeezing my cock, can'tchu? And, tsk, you love it even though you've tried to escape.

A grunt escaped his lips as hands gripped your waist and held you still in place, his dick beginning to move in and out of you at a slower pace than the one before the moment he pretended to accept you escaping overstimulation. A rhythm that made you feel the pleasure licking your body slowly, even though you could barely think straight.

— Dumb puppy, can't even hold a bratty attitude straight. — His lips caught yours in an intense kiss, but as slow as the pace of his hips. — Say you want it and I'll finish fucking you.

And it sucked that he told you to do it, precisely because of the overstimulation, you were little more than a whiny mess.

#. kakucho, KOKONOI, kisaki, shion

“You’re still thinking about him?” he grunts while finally taking his fingers out of you. The loss of contact makes you feel so empty, but the way he leaves a trail of kisses down your body fills your stomach with butterflies.

You don’t answer him. After all, if it weren’t for Megumi, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. He was apparently just having a bad day and decided to unleash all his anger on you, his poor, unsuspecting step sister. His words burned like salt on a fresh, open wound; he called you all sorts of names and said many things you hoped he would regret. The second that Toji came home from work, you were already running to cry in his arms. The last thing Megumi said before leaving really was the cherry to top it all off, “Pathetic. Always runnin’ to daddy when things don’t go your way.”

The bad thing about it all is that he isn’t wrong. Well, maybe this time he was wrong because you didn’t even do anything to upset him. But he is right about the fact that you always go to Toji to make you feel better; only this time, he’s being much more generous.

Toji repositions himself so that his face is level with your thighs. His strong hands find their places on your hip before he slides them down to your knees. “Just focus on me,” he murmurs against your plush thighs as he kisses his way up to your pussy. You can feel his breath fan over your skin as he presses a kiss to your clit; despite the warm feeling it brings, it causes a shiver to run down your spine.

He can feel his pants get impossibly tighter when he starts licking at your clit. To relieve some of the tension, he lowers one of his hands to his clothed dick and starts palming it. His precum is already beginning to leak out of his tip, creating a wet splotch on his boxers. He nearly loses himself in his own pleasure, but he’s quickly reminded that he’s here, in your room, to please you.

“You taste so good, baby,” he says in between licks. Hearing your breathing get more unsteady by the minute gets him even more aroused. Your thighs tremble around his head, nearly suffocating him in the process, but he wraps his arms around them and lifts them up so that they rest on his broad shoulders. Your eyes widen when he pulls away for a second, only to flutter shut when a glob of spit drops onto your slick folds, and he’s back to licking you up again. The sounds he’s making are so obscene; you should be embarrassed of how turned on you are, and he should be too.

He lets go of one of your thighs and brings that hand to your cunt, prodding at your hole as he continues circling his tongue around your puffy clit. You can feel the stretch of his two fingers entering you again at once, and just a moment later, he’s as deep as he can go.

“Daddy,” your breathing grows heavier, and your whines are more frequent. Toji can tell that you’re already approaching your orgasm, the first one of the night. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks with a slight smirk. The vibrations from his voice causes you to clench up; it’s something that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Go ahead. Make a mess for me.” He shifts his focus to your face and watches how you squeeze your eyes shut. Your jaw falls slack, but no noise creeps up and out from your throat. Toji continues to happily lap at your cunt, careful to not waste a single drop of your slick.

There’s a slight squelch when he removes his fingers from you, but he sticks them inside of your mouth so there’s no time to be embarrassed about it. He presses down on your tongue and just barely dips them deep enough to hit the back of your throat. The way you gag around his fingers has him wishing that you were doing that around his cock instead, but he saves that thought for another time. After all, it was pretty often that you and Megumi got into arguments. The next time you come to him to seek comfort, he’ll have something else in store for you.

“Think you’re ready to take me?” Toji asks with your lips still wrapped around his digits. You look up at him and gently nod your head against your pillows. “Alright then. You better take everything you’re given.”

He carefully retracts his hand from you and gets off the bed, only to leave your room. There’s a slight breeze that comes from the open door; it’s a sharp contrast to the fire that burns bright inside of you. Soon enough, you hear his footsteps on the wooden floor grow louder as he approaches your room. Walking over to your bed, he crosses his arms and grabs onto the hem of his shirt before pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. You suck in a breath upon seeing his physique in a different light; you’ve seen him shirtless before during family vacations to the beach and the occasional times he was walking out of the shower—but this time, it’s different. It’s more intimate now that it’s just the two of you.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he climbs on top of you again, bringing your hand to cup his crotch. “You feel that? It’s all for you,” he chuckles when you turn your head away, suddenly feeling shy. He has a foil packet in his other hand which he brings to your mouth, wordlessly telling you to bite down on it so he can tear it open. Once he takes it out of the packaging, you maintain eye contact with him, as if to ask if it was alright to push his boxers down past his hips.

“I’ll go easy on ya.” He backs himself up on the bed a bit to remove his boxers. Once the waistband slips past his hips, you catch a glimpse of his tip; it’s flushed a deep pink and it’s leaking a lot.

“You’re so big…” you trail off nervously when he’s finally fully exposed. He takes the condom and pinches the tip before carefully rolling it down his length.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” he says, causing you to pout. Who knows how many women he’s been with before meeting your mother? But why are you feeling jealousy swirl in the pit of your stomach? Many more questions circle through your mind, but you’re brought out of your trance with a pat to your cheek. “I’m gonna put it in now.”

“O-okay,” you whisper, but Toji hesitates. Reaching to put your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down so that his face is right in front of yours. “I’m ready.”

Toji takes his dick in one hand and guides it to your pussy, running it through your folds to gather some of your slick. His tip prods at your entrance and only then does he doubt he’ll actually be able to fit inside you. Did he prep you enough to take him?

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his tip enter you, and it already feels like entirely way too much. Your fingers dig into the skin of his back, desperately holding onto him as if he could disappear right in front of you. “Relax for me, princess,” he grunts as he tries to go deeper in you, “you gotta relax.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, “it hurts.” Tears are starting to form on your lash line again, but you fight them back. His fat cock is stretching you out so much more than his fingers were just a moment ago, and you’re just not used to it.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” he says sternly. He tunes his ears to the sound of your voice, waiting to hear you say the word, but it doesn’t come. It doesn’t come even when his cock is fully sheathed inside of you. Looking down at you, he sees that your brows are furrowed as you focus on not crying. “You okay?”

“Give me a second,” you plead, and Toji obeys. The air around you feels heavy, and you’re struggling to catch your breath as he gives you some time to adjust to his cock. One of your hands moves from its position on his back to sweep away some of his hair and reveal his jade irises. A moment passes before you try to move your hips; you notice that the majority of the pain has subsided, so you tell him that it’s alright to move.

He keeps his movements slow and steady, pulling his hips back until just his tip is inside of you before pushing forward once again. The drag of his cock along your walls feels like it lasts forever until his hips are flush against yours. “You’re taking me so well,” he praises as he lifts his head away from yours. Looking between your bodies, he sees a layer of blood coating his cock; he starts to think that maybe he should’ve put down a towel just in case it got on your sheets.

“Daddy.” your voice rings in his ears and causes him to snap his eyes to yours, worried that he might have made a sudden movement. “Don’t stop, please.”

That’s all it takes for him to set a steady pace, fucking into you gently as if he’s afraid to break you. “You feel so fucking good around me,” he moans, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You’re so naughty, letting me fuck you like this.” You pout and turn your head to the side, feeling your face heat up at the realization.

“I’m not! I swear I’m good,” you whine as he hits a particularly deep thrust. Instinctively, you tighten around him, making him let out a groan. If you keep doing that to him, he might end up cumming way earlier than he would like to. To prevent himself from thinking about it happening, he grabs your jaw and kisses you for the second time that night; the first time being when he brought you to your room after Megumi left. He was about to go back downstairs, but you begged him to stay and one thing led to another.

Toji’s lips mold against yours in what feels like chaotic perfection. His lips are so soft against yours despite the scar he wears on the right corner of his mouth. When his tongue slips past your lips, your mind gets clouded with so much lust. You’re so full of him, it’s overwhelming. You barely register the feeling of hand climbing up the side of your body and massaging one of your tits.

“It’s about time you take this off, sweetheart,” he mumbles before detaching himself from you. He sits back on his feet and pulls your hips up his thighs before easily and quite literally tearing your shirt off of you.

“Hey!” you cry, “that was a gift.”

“Shut up. You know I’ll buy you a new one,” Toji retorts before taking his dick in his hand and bringing it to your cunt again. He teases you by tapping it against your clit a couple times, making you squirm in his lap. What a sight, seeing you yearn for him. After what he deems is enough teasing, he rises on his knees, bringing your lower half up with him. His cock pushes into you just as carefully as the first time, but the new angle sends him to deeper depths within you. The tip of his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust, and it was you wantonly moaning out for your daddy. He’s got one hand around your throat and the other gripping your headboard. The sight of your blood on his hand only slightly alarms you, and it doesn’t stop you from clasping your hands on top of his to make sure he’s not putting too much pressure on your neck.

Picking up the pace, you loosely wrap your legs around his waist, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours grows louder. “F-fuck, daddy, I’m close,” you whimper. “I wanna cum, please let me cum!”

Toji could have your pleading voice on repeat inside forever if he wanted to; he could never get sick of the way you sound so desperate for him. “Since you’re beggin’ real nice for me, I’ll let you.”

He removes his hand on your throat and moves it down to toy with your clit. His thumb presses into it a bit and he starts rhythmically rubbing it in time with his thrusts. Your moans spill from your mouth as you approach your orgasm even faster now. You shut your eyes after struggling to keep them open but Toji is quite the opposite. There’s a crazed look in his eyes, darkened from all the pleasure and from drinking in your appearance, savoring it in his mind.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you chant as you find yourself on edge.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m the one makin’ you feel so good,” he grunts, feeling your pussy clench around him. “Fucking— shit —cum for me, baby.”

Your fingers claw at his chest as you finally cum, feeling the coil in your lower abdomen finally snap. Your pussy spasms on his cock, and you swear you can feel it throb as he continues fucking into you at his fast pace. His balls tighten and he rushes to try and pull out, but your legs lock him in place.

“Fuck,” he groans, realizing he’s got no choice but to stay sheathed inside your cunt. You open your eyes just in time to see him come undone. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he goes as deep as he can before finally releasing his load. His chest heaves as he remains in his position above you, waiting until every last drop of his cum has been milked from his cock. Before he has a chance to get up, you pull his face closer and pepper kisses on his cheeks.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he sighs and moves away from you, leaving you feeling empty and cold without his warmth. He gets off your bed and removes the condom, ties it, and tosses it into your trash bin. “Come here.” he approaches your bed with open arms and scoops you up, carrying you to the bathroom across the hall. You expected him to do more than just get a rag and wet it for you, but your hopes were too high seeing as he just went back into your room to get his pants and boxers.

Toji doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on as he makes his way to the kitchen to prepare dinner—something he was supposed to do when he came home. He hears you coming downstairs a couple minutes later and combined with the sound of clattering pots and pans, he fails to hear the front door open.

Megumi strides in and sees you clinging onto the handrail at the bottom of the staircase, as if you can’t stand on your own, but he doesn’t pay you any mind. It isn’t until he gets to the kitchen when he puts two and two together. He really didn’t expect to see his dad shirtless with his torso covered in bright red marks, and he starts rethinking his entire life up to that moment. Toji feels his presence and starts to panic a little.

“Oh, Megumi,” he clears his throat, “didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

He doesn’t say anything; instead, he closes his eyes for about three seconds, takes a deep breath, and walks back out the front door. You’re still in the same position, now paralyzed with fear. The slam of the door makes you wince, and Toji is rushing to where you are. He opens the door to try and call Megumi back, but he’s already nowhere to be found.

“Daddy,” you meekly call from behind him, “I don’t think he wants to be here.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right, princess.”

“Is he gonna tell anyone?”