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@adenes-archive
Green flames in the eyes they excite me
Sent a Green text, all she said was, “get inside me.”
I’m sorry
18+ Blog Minors DNI
Black Woman
Green green were I grew up
Pop beads in the back til' you throw up
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*I interact with ED tumblr, JJK, AOT, & DARK CONTENT*
I sip lean on occasion, when my throat's fucked
This is just me making an appetite of most drugs
GREENGREENGREEN - Chase Atlantic
︵ ೀ mdni. satoru and suguru are losing their minds trying to fit inside you at the same time
it’s the first time you’ve all tried this, and the moment suguru starts pushing in alongside satoru, satoru lets out a shaky, breathless laugh.
“holy shit— this is so tight,” he whines, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressed to your shoulder. his cock twitches hard as your pussy stretches around both of them, slick and burning. “i can feel you, suguru—oh my god, i can feel your dick rubbing against mine.”
“shut up,” suguru grits out, but his voice is weak, jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumps. he’s trying to stay calm, but the way your walls flutter and squeeze around them both is driving him insane. every tiny shift makes him feel satoru’s cock sliding against his, hot and throbbing. “fuck… she’s taking us so well.”
you’re shaking between them, stuffed full, stretched to your limit. a broken moan spills from your lips and both men groan in unison.
satoru starts moving first—shallow, desperate little thrusts that make suguru curse under his breath. “slow down, you idiot— ahh, shit—” suguru’s hips jerk anyway, chasing the friction, the overwhelming heat. they’re both panting, sweat-slicked chests pressed to your body, hands gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise.
you’re still shaking from the two orgasms they pulled out of you earlier with their tongues, licking and sucking until you were sobbing and oversensitive. now every single nerve feels raw and electric. the stretch of both cocks at once is almost too much — too intense, too full, every tiny movement sending sparks shooting up your spine.
“she’s so fucking wet,” satoru gasps, half-laughing, half-moaning. “i’m gonna cum so fast, this is embarrassing—”
“me too,” suguru admits through gritted teeth, voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone. his hips snap harder, chasing the tight drag of your cunt and the filthy slide of satoru’s cock against his own. “can’t— can’t hold it.”
they start moving together, messy and uncoordinated, both of them whimpering and cursing every time they thrust in at the same time. the pressure is insane. the feeling of being pressed so tightly against each other inside you is too much.
satoru comes first with a loud moan, hips stuttering as he spills deep inside you. the moment his cock pulses, suguru follows right after—groaning long and low, burying himself to the hilt as he fills you too. they cum at the same time, thick and hot, both cocks twitching against each other while your pussy milks them dry.
they stay buried inside you, panting, trembling, foreheads pressed together above your shoulder.
satoru lets out a weak, almost delirious laugh.
“we’re doing that again… like… immediately.”
suguru just groans, still twitching. “shut up… but yeah.”
frat!kuna and his scaredy-cat gf! ><
-> 0.8k, sfw!
you insisted on going to the horror movie night with your new boyfriend, sukuna, after overhearing his idiot frat brothers whispering about you.
“she’s really soft.”
“i've never seen ryo with a girl like her.”
“watch her piss herself at the first jumpscare.”
laughter all around.
and maybe it was stupid, but you wanted to prove them wrong. prove you could handle the same things as the girls he usually kept around. cool girls. confident girls. mature girls who didn’t cling to their boyfriend’s sleeve every five minutes.
so you sat beside sukuna and in that freezing theater, chin lifted stubbornly, pretending your stomach wasn’t already twisting from the opening music alone.
for the first thirty minutes, you held it together.
barely.
you got by closing your eyes at the scarier parts and subtly whispering to sukuna to tell you when it was over.
then the movie hit you with the most horrific, satan-spawned jumpscare imaginable.
you shrieked so loud the entire row flinched.
your hand jerked violently.
and your ice cream launched directly into satoru gojo's face.
silence.
then satoru yelling, “WHAT THE HELLY?”
suguru and toji snickered.
and suddenly you were crying.
partly because you’d just assaulted sukuna's friend with matcha soft serve after you'd spent a whole minute outside the theatre convincing all of them you weren't scared in the slightest before you'd gone in.
partly because that was some really good ice cream you'd just wasted.
partly because everyone was staring.
but mostly because that movie was fucking terrifying.
sukuna immediately grabbed your wrist and stood up. “aight, we’re leaving.”
you hid your face in his arm while his friends snickered behind you. humiliation burned hot in your chest as he guided you out of the theater, your legs still shaky.
outside, the cold night air hit your cheeks.
“sorry…” you mumbled miserably.
sukuna snorted. “it's fine, baby. gojo deserved it, he was being an asshole."
you whined, covering your face. "i wasn't talking about that!"
he laughed under his breath, but there wasn’t an ounce of cruelty in it. just amusement. then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, “i’ll take you home, yeah?”
you sniffled and nodded. “that was scary.”
“i know, babe. i'm sorry,” he opened the passenger door for you, buckling your seatbelt himself with surprising gentleness. “should’ve known that shit would freak you out.”
“it was my idea…” you hiccuped.
“i still shoulda said no.” he shut the door and rounded the hood of the car.
the few seconds you sat alone were awful. your eyes immediately darted to the rearview mirror. the backseat looked way too dark. you stared at it, fully convinced some horrifying demon woman was about to crawl over the seats and kill you.
the driver door opened and sukuna slid in and caught you staring.
“…you looking at your little friend back there?”
you gasped, “kuna, don’t SAY that!”
he barked out a laugh while starting the engine. “you want another ice cream?”
your watery eyes widened hopefully. “…yeah.”
“thought so.”
by the time you reached your apartment complex, you were clutching a drive-thru soft serve with both hands while sukuna walked beside you toward your door.
you were finally calm again.
until he kissed your forehead, patted your ass lightly, and turned away. “see you tomorrow, babe.”
terror immediately flooded your face. you grabbed his arm so fast he almost stumbled back.
he looked down at you with a blink. then sighed. “…should’ve expected that.”
your eyes welled up again. “y-you’re leaving?”
“nah.” he unlocked your apartment and walked in beside you. “just wanted to see your face.” sukuna lied smoothly.
you blinked. “…oh.”
“cute reaction though.”
you huffed at him before setting your ice cream on the counter. “um… i need to pee.”
“okay?” he said, lifting a questioning brow, not quite sure what this has to do with him.
you awkwardly twisted your fingers together before looking up at him nervously.
a beat passed.
then sukuna sighed the sigh of a man accepting his fate.
a minute later, he was inside your bathroom aggressively yanking the shower curtain open .checking the cabinets. looking behind the door.
“there.” he deadpanned. “no demons.”
you stood in the doorway anxiously. “is it safe?”
“yes.”
“…promise?”
“baby, if something attacks you while you piss, i’ll personally beat its ass.”
you considered that seriously.
“…okay.”
you stepped inside cautiously.
“stand by the door.”
“stand by the—” he repeated in disbelief, before he stopped himself with a long exhale. “fine.”
“and turn around.”
“baby, i’ve literally seen you naked—”
“TURN AROUND.”
“bossy as hell,” he muttered, turning around anyway.
“and cover your ears.”
he stared at you over his shoulder in disbelief. “why?”
"i don't want you hearing me pee!"
sukuna sighed slowly. then lifted two resigned hands to his ears.
“not all the way though,” you continued nervously, “or you won’t hear me scream.”
sukuna closed his eyes and covered his ears, “that all, princess?”
“mhm!” you chirped brightly, kissing his cheek. “thanks honey. you’re sooo brave.”
he looked up at the ceiling like he was asking the universe for strength.
“next time we’re watching finding nemo.”
supa kyoot dividers by my fave @anitalenia !!
perm taglist: @dreamydaredevil @paparaysstuff
[ a/n ] : if u liked this one, i'd super duper appreciate if u checked out the prequel i wrote where kuna and reader are fwb (before they become official) !! love u guys sm THANK U FOR THE SUPPORT ON THIS i didn't expect it at all c,:
Sukuna x Fem Reader [Modern Era]
Part 1 ( Part 2 ) Summary: you and sukuna are mafie couple (kinda) Warnings: sukuna is asshole, bullying, suicidal thoughts, family dysfunction, cannibalism, bit darks so yeah. A/T: I promise you my first born and my left kidney this one has a happy ending and pls still keep me on your invite list for your sukuna theme birthday party ☹️
You met Sukuna when you were trying to kill yourself. Simple as that. There was no love story, no tension, and no love at first sight. Just a depressed girl trying to end it all and an insane psycho on the wanted list saving her.
He didn't even save you because he cared or felt bad. No, it was because you chose a building that was his warehouse holding many illegal things, and if you died there, it would draw unwanted attention.
So he saved you. But it was more like he saved himself a lot of problems.
He was the most selfish man you had ever met. He was so insane, so crazy, that he was almost free. He was wanted everywhere he went; everything he touched turned to blood or death. He had no love to offer and no empathy whatsoever.
He was wanted for everything under the sun and more. This man had cannibalism on his list, so it was no surprise to see any crimes he committed.
He just did not care. No fucks are given. He was 23 when you two met, and you were just turning 20. Life has been harsh and unkind to you. With nobody to understand and no friends to count on, you were slowly losing it.
The bullying from school, the family dysfunction, the emotional absence of your parents—what broke the camel's back was when your mother's boyfriend tried to assault you, and she kicked you out for seducing her husband. She had always been jealous of you and everything you had done. She had picked a strange man over her own daughter.
You saw the empty warehouse, and it was tall enough that you wouldn't survive and become even more of a pain in the ass by being paralyzed or something like that. So, on the third night of being homeless, you have had enough. The winter was harsh, and you had seen everything by now.
Death would be rest; it would be a comfort compared to this.
Standing on the edge and looking down, the wind was stronger here, and it was so cold too. If the height did not kill you, the winter would do the job.
You didn't even have anyone to text "I love you" or "thank you" to. That was how pathetic you were. Letting the last tear drop to your cheek and closing your eyes, you let go.
But then there was a hand.
Someone pulled you backward.
God? Had he finally answered your call?
No, it was actually the devil himself.
As you lay on the ground, looking up at him, he sneered, “What a silly little girl you are,” and blew smoke in your face.
You lay on the cold ground, staring up at Sukuna, who stood over you with a disdainful look.
“What… dude, what is your problem?” You asked, your voice trembling.
Sukuna's expression remained unchanged. “Look here, if you want to kill yourself, do it somewhere else. I don’t want any trouble here, you hear me?”
His words were as harsh as the winter wind. There was no hint of sympathy, only a blunt demand for you to leave. The lack of compassion stung almost as much as the cold. You realized, in that moment, that his concern was not for your well-being but for his own convenience.
You looked at Sukuna, feeling a bitter mix of frustration and resignation. You can't even die in peace, you thought, but you nodded in defeat. “Fine,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.
“You see that building over there?" He pointed to the tallest building. "It’s taller. Trust me, you wouldn’t survive that one, so do it there.”
The harsh reality of his words cut deep, but there was a grim sense of finality in them. Sukuna’s indifference was almost a relief compared to the constant emotional turmoil you’d been through. You turned to leave, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders.
“Wait, little girl, come here,” Sukuna’s voice cut through the frigid air. You turned to see him sitting on a broken air conditioner, smoke curling from his cigarette. He was shrouded in a dark hood, his face was partially obscured, but his imposing figure was unmistakable. At well over 6'5", he was a mountain of muscle, dressed head-to-toe in black.
“Do you need a job?” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he took another drag of his cigarette.
Confusion etched on your face, you hesitated. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah,” he replied, unfazed by your surprise. “I have a job if you want it. Are you good with numbers?”
The offer came out of nowhere, and you weren’t sure if it was some cruel joke or a genuine opportunity.
“Yeah, I’m good with numbers…” you replied, your voice trailing off.
“Good, good,” Sukuna said, his tone almost indifferent. “You see, I need someone who can count money—lots of money—make sure it’s real, and handle drug calculations. You think you can do that?”
You thought about it for a moment. Considering you were on the brink of death and your situation couldn’t possibly get any worse, why not? What did you have to lose?
“Yeah, I can. When can I start?”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “You won’t even ask how much you’ll make?”
“I don’t care if it’s more than ten bucks,” you said, your desperation clear.
Sukuna’s smirk widened slightly. “Alright then. I’ll give you the details later. For now, just stick around.” He tossed a key and some cash at you. “From now on, you’ll live here. This place has a bed and a bathroom. I’ll get you whatever you need. Rest for today, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You caught the key and the cash, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. It wasn’t the kind of opportunity you had ever imagined, but in the face of imminent despair, it was something—an unexpected chance to pull yourself out of the abyss.
“Thanks,” you muttered, though you weren’t sure what you were truly thankful for. The promise of a bed and some semblance of stability, however tenuous, was a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil.
<^>
That was how it all began. The empire you and Sukuna would build, and in just a little over four years, you both were millionaires with so many properties and so many things ahead of you.
The empire was built on the bodies of people who were your enemies or were just in the way. You were the brains, while Sukuna handled everything else. You handled the drugs and money laundering while others managed other parts, but you brought in more money than any of them combined.
Of course, you had gotten into trouble before, or there were some spies within the ranks, but you both could overcome anything.
Over the years you had known Sukuna, you and he had gotten to know each other on a deeper level. People may not believe it or choose not to believe it, but there was no sexual relationship for the first four years of your friendship.
He had surprised you in so many ways, and you owed him your life, even if he didn't care.
You realized that he indeed had many undiagnosed issues, but you were not there to solve or figure him out, and that is what he liked about you. You weren't fixing or changing him; it was actually the other way around. He was doing the fixing.
He loved how easy it was to be with you. You just knew when to do or say things. No one could read Sukuna like you. No words were needed for you both to understand each other. Some people found it weird and disturbing, but he did not give a shit.
He never felt judged when it came to you. He could talk about the most outrageous things, and even if you did not agree with his ideas, you would listen and understand his thought process. No one had done that for Sukuna before.
He did not realize it, but he had come to depend on you in many ways, both emotionally and for business. He trusted no one and talked to no one except himself or you. This man could not trust his own shadow but trusted you with his money and where he had hidden it. Sometimes he even gave you some to hide for him.
One night while he was high, he told you about his crimes, and you asked many questions, all of which he answered correctly. You knew this man was and is evil and will continue to be his way. He would not change or be fixed. He told you that was why he did not like women too much.
"They all try to fix me. I don't need to be fixed, Y/N. You know that, right?"
Of course, you did. You nodded, rolling his joint. He told you what the business future would be and how it would move forward. Sometimes he told you about his long-lost twin brother, Sukuna, who was kicked out after his first kill. He had not seen him for a long time.
"Did you miss him?" He was now lying on your lap. You were both in bed. He had come to your house in the dead of night to talk. He liked to touch your skin—nothing sexual but just to cuddle you naked. That was when you saw his never-ending tattoos. He was like an art museum in a person. He was an art.
"I don't know. We were never close. He was a good person, and I cared for him. When we were hungry, I cooked for him, cleaned him, and was a big brother to him, even though we were the same age. He needed someone to look after him. Grandpa was getting old and was busy. I knew him in the womb; I should have eaten him there. I remember I was hungry…"
Things he said didn't make sense sometimes. He saw dreams and felt things that made no sense, but he saw and felt them.
The longer you two knew each other, the clingier Sukuna became. He slowly moved in with you. It took a year, but now he is here all the time. He slept in the same bed as you, but with his body and height, you had to upgrade the bed and quality. He even slowly started taking showers with you. Seeing each other naked was no surprise to you both.
He was not aroused, and you weren't either, but he had this constant need to touch you in some way and be closer to you. You two became inseparable. You two were slowly becoming one person.
It took a while for you to open up to Sukuna, but slowly you did. You two would sit in a bath and talk about your life, your trauma, your thoughts, and your dreams. You told him one day you wanted to go to art school and do something with that. The next day, he got you a notebook and hired someone to teach you art.
You came to realize Sukuna was selfish, an asshole, a psychopath, and all of the above, but he had a side to him, like the moon. There was an unseen and dark part of him that was so vulnerable and caring in his own twisted way. In his own way, cannibalism was love. Just like kissing, when he loved someone, he wanted to give himself wholly to others but also take the other person as a whole.
Not many people could handle that and match his intensity like you did. Sometimes you were more intense, and he got surprised by the things you said, like your opinions on current politics or the meaning of life, souls, human patterns, even as useless as celebrity gossip.
<^>
The first time he kissed you was on your 24th birthday, and after that, everything spiraled out of control. Your whole life, you had never been in a relationship or even wanted one. In this business, there were many men who tried things with you, but they got turned down quickly. It wasn't because you had someone in mind; you just weren't interested. Your view on relationships was shaped by your parents' marriage, and if that was what marriage looked like, you wanted no part of it. In a way, it was a trauma response, but who gives a shit.
He kissed you in bed after you had taken a shower and finished everything in your very dark house. He just got up and kissed you. The kiss was exactly how you imagined Sukuna's kiss would be. He might as well have sucked your soul out. You tried to get away, but he held the back of your neck tightly. You tried to hit his chest or push him away, but that just made him pull you even closer. Your lungs were burning, and the way he tasted made you feel fuzzy and dizzy. After the shower, he didn't bother putting anything on, and that just added to the strangeness of it all.
He had never shown any attraction to you unless you count the fact that he can't, in fact, live without you. He had seen every part of your soul and body. Yes, your relationship with him was strange and unique. At some point, you gave up and let him kiss you, your hand on his heart, and you could hear it. He was on another planet.
The kiss lingered, turning from something forceful into something almost tender. His grip on your neck softened, and his other hand moved to cradle your face. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, and the heat of his body against your skin. The room seemed to close in around you, with only the two of you existing in that moment.
When he finally pulled back, he looked at you with an intensity that was both frightening and mesmerizing. His eyes seemed to pierce right through you, as if he was seeing into the deepest parts of your soul.
“Why did you do that?” You whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
Sukuna smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Because I wanted to,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
You wanted to argue, to demand more of an explanation, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just stared at him, searching for something in his expression that might give you a clue to his thoughts. But as always, Sukuna was an enigma.
From that moment on, things changed between you. The line between friends and something more became increasingly blurred.
Everything was the same, yet nothing was the same. The main difference was that Sukuna now had to kiss and suck your face for at least 10 minutes every hour. He seemed insatiable, constantly craving the taste and feel of you. His kisses were rough and intense, leaving your lips swollen and bruised. He loved to bite and suck your blood when he kissed you, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your head spin.
You tried to push him away at times, but this gigantic man wouldn’t budge an inch. He held you firmly, his strength overwhelming, and you had no choice but to surrender to his passionate advances. Despite the roughness, there was an undeniable heat between you, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to resist him.
Sukuna’s need to be close to you, to touch and taste you, became a constant in your life. He was possessive, always wanting you near, wanting to touch you, wanting your attention on him 25/8.
One night, you were both high and making out. He had started to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys. It was all going too fast, but he stopped himself, surprising both of you. When he met you the next day, he never talked about it.
Two months later, it happened again. This time, he did not stop himself. He looked into your eyes to see if you didn’t want it, but he saw nothing. He took you to his car and went to a secluded area, saying nothing, just caressing your thigh. What you two did was not sex or a fuck. It felt like you exchanged souls—some sort of ritual. It was dark and intense, and you were certain you saw Sukuna’s eyes become even redder and saw his eyes double.
It was your first time, and he knew it. It was slow; he bit and sucked your blood more than you could count. The drug in your system, with him being inside you and constantly blowing smoke on your face, made you just crumble. Your body was red and purple by the time he was done with you.
No one could touch you but him. You were his to keep and use.
You did not go out the whole week after that, and when you did, he told you that if any man or woman tried to touch you, he would kill them.
When you saw his eyes, you realized he was serious.
You had slept with a man with many issues and a dark past. He had no soul, no empathy, no nothing. His pleasure was yours. You lived to serve him.
Sukuna never made it official. He was an official liar and manipulator, but he had a soft spot for you. As long as he was not denying you, you did not care what others thought or said.
<^>
2 years later/present day
"How are you related to Sukuna Ryomen?"
"I am his wife."
"Do you have a marriage certificate to prove that?"
"Yes, but I do not have it with me now."
"How is your relationship with Sukuna?"
"I just told you." The black sunglasses you were wearing made it difficult to see your true emotions, but it was clear that he would not get any information out of you.
"Look, ma'am, we just want to help you, okay? If you could testify against your husband, trust me, you would not have any sentencing. You are the key here. You knew he was a monster and a killer. If you can just tell us what you know…"
"Look, officer, all I know and all I have ever known is that Sukuna is my husband. I do not know what kind of job he did or his business. Frankly, I do not care. And I will not testify against my husband."
The officer sighed, frustration evident in his eyes. He leaned forward, his voice taking on a more urgent tone. "Ma'am, you have to understand the gravity of the situation. Sukuna Ryomen is not just any criminal. He's involved in some of the most heinous crimes imaginable. If you don't cooperate, you'll be seen as an accomplice."
"I understand what you're saying, but Sukuna is my husband. I made my choice, and I will stand by him."
The officer leaned back, his frustration written all over his face. He wasn't getting anywhere with you, and he knew it. "Alright, ma'am," he said, standing up and gathering his papers. "We'll continue this tomorrow."
As he left, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Meeting with at least three officers a day was exhausting, but you had to stay strong. This was their plan—to wear you down until you slip up. But you wouldn't fall for it.
You understood their motives. Each officer wanted to be the hero who brought down the infamous Sukuna Ryomen, and you were the key to their success. What they didn't realize was that you had meticulously changed your identity, scrubbing your past clean. To the outside world, you were simply the mysterious and beautiful wife of Lord Sukuna. No one knew anything about your true background except Sukuna himself.
Sukuna had always been cautious, eliminating anyone who got too close to the two of you every two years. "People shouldn't know too much about us," he would say. "The less they see and know, the better."
You replayed the events that led to this moment in your mind. Sukuna had made just one mistake, a single misstep that had triggered this entire mess. It was a minor slip-up, but in his world, even the smallest mistake could have catastrophic consequences.
It had happened a few weeks ago. Sukuna had been working on a major deal, one that would have secured his empire's future. Everything had been meticulously planned, but an unforeseen variable—a mole within his ranks—had thrown everything into chaos. The mole had been planted by law enforcement, and their information had led to a raid on one of Sukuna's most important operations.
Despite his best efforts, Sukuna couldn't cover up the evidence. The raid had resulted in several arrests, and those arrested had quickly turned informants, pointing fingers at Sukuna. The authorities had pieced together enough evidence to launch a full-scale investigation, leading to your current predicament.
Sukuna had anticipated this and had made arrangements for your safety. "If they catch me," he had said, "you must deny everything. Stay strong. We have contingencies in place."
And so, here you were, facing daily interrogations, holding firm to your story. You would protect Sukuna, just as he had protected you. No matter the cost, you were determined to see this through.
Your marriage to Sukuna happened only a year ago, and it was the happiest moment of your life. You had hoped it was the same for Sukuna. The ceremony was simple and secret, just the two of you in the middle of the night. He had spent the entire day exhausting you with sex and kisses, and in a haze of intimacy, he had casually asked if you would marry him.
That was it. No grand gestures, no witnesses, just the two of you.
No one even knew you were in a relationship, let alone married.
After the marriage, Sukuna had insisted you quit working. He wanted to give you a normal life, one where you could do anything and meet anyone—as long as it was approved by him. Yes, he was beyond controlling and jealous, possessive, and exhibited every red flag in the book, but somehow, it worked. The relationship and the marriage worked.
You had always wanted to be on autopilot, to let someone else take the reins, and Sukuna was the ultimate control freak.
In his world, control was everything. He dictated the terms, and you followed, finding a strange comfort in his dominance. The life he gave you was one of luxury and protection, albeit with the caveat of his stringent rules. He monitored your interactions, vetted your acquaintances, and kept a tight grip on every aspect of your life.
Despite the constraints, there was a deep, undeniable connection between you. Sukuna’s intensity, his fierce protectiveness, and the raw passion he had for you made you feel alive in ways you had never experienced before. The way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world that mattered, made all the control and possessiveness worth it.
Your days were filled with a mixture of lavish experiences and quiet moments of intimacy. Sukuna showered you with gifts and affection, but it was the private moments that you cherished the most. The way he would hold you, his touch, both gentle and commanding, made you feel safe and loved.
The secrecy of your relationship added an element of excitement and danger. It was like living a double life, one where the outside world saw you as a mysterious figure, while only you and Sukuna knew the truth of your bond.
Now, as you faced the officers day after day, you clung to the memories of your life with Sukuna. The happiness, the passion, and the unwavering loyalty you had for each other were your anchors. You knew that no matter what they said or did, you would not betray him.
The authorities believed they could break you, but they underestimated the strength of your connection with Sukuna. You had made your choice a long time ago, and you would stand by it, no matter the cost.
୨୧ — Sukuna leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his daughter carefully water each plant with the child sized watering can she'd insisted on bringing. At least she was focused on something, giving him a moment of peace.
Raising a kid was exhausting in ways that even running his territory wasn't. At least with his men, fear was a reliable motivator. His daughter, unfortunately, had inherited his utter lack and complete disregard for authority- a combination that was aging him prematurely…
The moment of relative calm shattered when she finished tending her sunflowers, and without warning, bolted toward the playground equipment.
"Oi!" Sukuna called after her, pushing off from the tree with an irritated grunt.
Either she didn't hear him or -more likely- was selectively deaf when it suited her... She scrambled up the ladder to the tallest slide structure with the agility of a monkey, her ponytail bouncing with each movement.
By the time Sukuna reached the playground, his daughter had bypassed the regular slide entirely and was instead perched precariously at the edge of the platform, tiny hands gripping the top of the fireman's pole that led straight down to the ground ten feet below.
"No." The single syllable carried a warning that would have stopped his most hardened criminals in their tracks. His voice was calm, almost bored sounding, but with an unmistakable edge of command.
To his shock -though perhaps it shouldn't have been shocking anymore- her little face scrunched up in defiance, and she shouted back as loud as her little lungs would allow, "NO!!!"
Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his gaze locking with hers in a silent standoff… This was the second warning, and they both knew it. Her little legs dangled over the edge, hands still gripping the pole, poised to slide down a drop that was far too high for someone her size.
"You heard me," he said, voice dropping lower.
"NOOO!!!" came the high pitched response, followed by a pink tongue poking out between her teeth in blatant disrespect.
Sukuna's eyebrow twitched, a muscle in his jaw clenching visibly. Several nearby parents, now actively gathered their children and moved further away.
"You're going to fucking fall," he growled, not bothering to censor his language -not that he ever did-... "Don't. Do. It." Each word was punctuated, deliberate. The final warning.
"MOMMY WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE A MEANIE!!"
Sukuna's vermillion eyes widened. The fuck did this brat just say?
Had you actually called him that behind his back? No- impossible. You wouldn't undermine him like that. This was a new manipulation tactic from his increasingly cunning offspring… He might have actually been proud of her if he wasn’t so pissed off right now.
He tsked, a sharp sound of irritation, "Fine. If you want to break your neck, go ahead. The big bad monster's getting tired of saving your ass every time you do something stupid." Sukuna made a show of closing his eyes, head tilted back slightly.
He didn't have to wait long. The moment his eyes closed, he heard the whoosh of her small body sliding down the pole and the telltale sign that she had accidentally lost her grip. Without hesitation, without even looking, his hand shot out, catching her tiny ankle just before she hit the wood chips… He dangled her upside down in front of him, her face now level with his.
Far from being frightened, his little girls face split into a delighted grin, her ponytail hanging toward the ground, cheeks flushed with excitement rather than fear.
Sukuna arched an eyebrow as understanding dawned, "This what you wanted?"
She beamed at him while still upside down, nodding vigorously, "Yup yup yup!!! I wanted to see if you would catch me!!!"
Her grin faltered slightly, looking somewhat guilty, "Mommy doesn't actually think you're a meanie... I- I lied a-about that."
Something in Sukuna's gaze softened. He flipped her upright in one smooth motion, setting her on her feet but keeping a firm grip on top of her head to prevent any more escape attempts.
"Tell me something I don't know," he said dryly, "Your mother's got questionable taste, but she's not stupid."
She giggled, reaching up to grab the hand that was resting on her head, "So you're not mad?"
"Oh, I'm fucking furious," he replied, but there was no real anger behind the words... "You think you're clever, manipulating me like that?"
"Yup!" she chirped, swinging his hand as they walked away from the playground.
"Tch, you get that from me, ya know?" he muttered, half proud despite himself, "The manipulative shit… and it’s annoying as fuck."
She grinned up at him,"But you love me anyway!"
"Unfortunately." He sighed.
…
"…Can we get ice cream?"
"After that stunt? Absolutely fucking not."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting on a park bench, his daughter happily licking a chocolate ice cream cone while Sukuna pretended he hadn't just completely caved to her demands.
"Don't tell your mother," he warned, "I don’t feel like dealing with her lectures today about how you shouldn’t have this shit before dinner."
"Don't tell her what?" She asked innocently, chocolate already smeared across her cheek.
Sukuna wiped it away with his thumb, a gesture so casually tender that the few remaining parents nearby did double takes.
"Smart answer," he said with a smirk that matched her own, "guess you are my kid after all."
"Duuhh," she replied, rolling her eyes in perfect mimicry like he does, "who else's would I be?"
Who else's indeed, he thought.
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
ಇ.word count: 18.7k
ಇ.pairing: 𝕋oji ℤenin x 𝔽em!reader
Back from college and staying with your dad in his shitty apartment complex, the older man... your neighbor next door has been noticing you, just as you have?
ಇ.content & warnings: porn with no plot :: non canon au :: reader is implied to be thicc :: age gaps - (reader is 19-20, Toji is in his Mid 30s) :: older neighbour trope :: touching through clothes :: kissing :: oral f.rec :: pussyjobs :: multi-gasms :: p in v :: spitting :: different sex positions? :: anal play - (thumb) :: c-pied :: description's of sex and anatomy was meant to be more on the 'graphic side' ::
The back porch of apartment 07 was nothing special — just cracked concrete painted a faded green years ago, a single wobbly plastic chair, and a rusted railing that overlooked the narrow strip of shared yard nobody ever used. Summer heat clung to everything like wet cotton, thick and slow even now that the sun had dipped low enough to turn the sky bruised purple.
You’d been inside all day, scrolling on your phone until your eyes ached, hoodie zipped halfway over a thin tank top because the AC was barely spitting cool air anymore. Shorts riding up high on your thighs, the soft cotton clinging where sweat had gathered at the crease of your hips.
Ninety degrees and no breeze, so you finally gave up and dragged yourself outside to sprawl on the single step, legs stretched long, bare feet dangling over the edge.
That’s when you saw him.
Toji Fushiguro, in apartment 08, right next door, he stepped out the side door with a black garbage bag in one scarred hand, in the same tight black t-shirt you’d seen him in a dozen times before, sleeves stretched tight around thick biceps, fabric clinging to the hard planes of his chest and stomach like it was painted on. Dark sweatpants slung low on narrow hips, the waistband showing a thin strip of tanned skin when he moved.
That scar sliced the corner of his mouth, pulling slightly when his lips twitched like he was always half a second from smirking at something only he found funny and black hair messy, damp at the temples from the heat or maybe from whatever he’d been doing inside his own place all day.
He didn’t look your way at first, he just hefts the bag into the big metal bin with one easy toss, muscles rolling under tanned skin, then wipes his forearm across his brow.
You should’ve looked away, should’ve pretended to stare at the sky or your chipped nail polish or literally anything else, but your eyes stayed glued, tracing the way his shoulders flexed when he turned, the slow roll of his neck as he cracked it side to side and maybe he felt it, because those sharp green eyes finally flicked over.
Eyes locking on yours.
Your stomach does a nasty, liquid flip. Not fear, exactly. Something hotter. Hungrier. You feel suddenly very aware of how your shorts are bunched high on your ass, how the hoodie’s ridden up to show the dip of your spine, how your thighs are parted just enough that if he looked lower he’d see the soft inner curve where skin meets cotton.
He didn’t smile, didn’t wave. Just stood there with one big hand still resting on the bin lid, staring like he had all night to decide what he wanted to do about the pretty little thing next door finally looking back.
Then he starts walking.
Not toward his apartment, towards you.
Each step, heavy. Bare feet on gravel and the closer he gets the more details you take in, faint sheen of sweat on his throat, the way veins stand out along his forearms and he stops at the edge of your porch slab, one foot planted on the rickety porch so he’s towering without even trying.
For a second the world narrows to just that look; heavy and unreadable, dragging down the length of your sprawled body like he was cataloging every inch. The hoodie half-open so the thin tank underneath showed the soft dip between your breasts, nipples pebbled from the sudden shift in temperature and maybe something else, your shorts bunched high enough that the plump curve where thigh met hip was on full display, cotton stretched tight across your mound.
You felt the fabric pull snug there, outlining the soft curve of your pussy in a way that made heat crawl up your neck, shifting your thighs together instinctively — only making it worse. A tiny damp spot had already started blooming at the crotch from hours of lazy daydreams and the sticky summer air.
You swallow. Throat dry. “Hi,” it comes out smaller than you meant.
Toji’s scarred mouth twitches barely. “Hey.”
Voice low and rough around the edges like gravel dragged over velvet. One word and it already felt like he’d put his palm flat on your sternum and pressed.
You sat up a little straighter, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. “You’re… Toji, right? My dad said you’re the quiet one.”
He huffed through his nose, the closest thing to a laugh you’d ever heard from him. “Yeah. That’s me.” He took one slow step closer. “And you’re the kid who’s been runnin’ around in those little shorts all summer.”
Your breath hitched, you're not a kid. Not really, but the way he said it with that lazy drawl, his eyes dropping to where your thighs are pressed together, made your clit throb under the cotton like he’d reached out and thumbed it.
“I’m not a kid,” you mumbled, cheeks burning. “I’m nineteen, almost twenty.”
Toji’s brows lifted just a fraction. “Almost twenty,” he echoed, like he was tasting the words. Another step forward, now he was close enough you could smell him; clean sweat, faint soap, something darker underneath like motor oil and cedar. “Old enough to know better than to sit out here lookin’ like that when it’s just you and me.”
Your heart slammed against your ribs. You tried to play it cool, tugging the hem of your hoodie down like it would hide anything. “It’s hot. I just wanted air.”
“Mm.” His gaze slid lower again, shamelessly, lingering on the visible outline of your pussy lips printed through the thin shorts, plump, puffy, already so swollen from nothing but his proximity. “Looks like you’re feelin’ more than just the heat, sweetheart.”
The pet name landed like a spark on dry grass, and you squeezed your thighs tighter, but that only made the damp cotton drag against your slick folds. A tiny, involuntary whimper slipped out before you could catch it.
Toji’s eyes darkened. He crouched slowly, his big body folding with surprising grace, until he was eye-level with you on the step. Forearms resting on spread thighs, scarred hands dangling loose between his knees. So close you can see the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbone, the way his happy trail disappears under the waistband, dark and tempting.
He tilts his head, just enough that the dying sunlight cuts across the sharp line of his jaw. Moss-green eyes drag from your bare legs up up up- slowly and unapologetic. Lingers on the bare strip of stomach where your hoodie’s rucked up. On the way your shorts cling to the plump curve of your ass, aaaaall the way up to your face like he’s cataloguing every inch he’s already seen a hundred times through cracked blinds.
“Been seein’ you around,” he says. Voice quieter now and allmost intimate. “You live next door, right? Your old man’s girl.”
Not a question again.
You nod anyway. Tongue feeling too big in your mouth.
“Yeah. I’m… back for summer break.”
He hums, deep in his chest. The sound vibrates through the humid air straight into your bones.
“Didn’t figure you’d be out here lookin’ like that,” his eyes glance to your lips then back up to your eyes, “always out this late too huh, doll?”
You blink. “...You noticed?”
Another almost-laugh. “Hard not to.”
Heat floods your cheeks. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of exposed skin. The way your nipples have pebbled against the thin hoodie fabric from the slight breeze or maybe just from him looking at you like that.
“You been watchin’ me too, huh?” he murmurs. Voice softer than you expect. Almost gentle. “Every time you come out here. Corner store. Back porch. Thought I didn’t notice?”
Your lips parted, no sound comes out at first. Then, barely a whisper, “I… I thought you didn’t.”
“Wrong.” One big hand lifts slow, carefully and the rough pad of his thumb brushes the edge of your hoodie sleeve where it had slipped down your shoulder. Goosebumps erupts across everywhere he almost touches. “Been noticin’ you since the first day you walked by in those jeans. Ass hugged so tight I could see the outline of your panties. Thought about bendin’ you over the railing right then.”
Heat floods between your thighs so fast your vision blurs and you can feel yourself leaking now, slow, syrupy slick soaking through your cotton panties, darkening the crotch of your shorts in an obvious little patch. His eyes drops to it immediately.
“Fuck,” he breathes, almost laboured. “Look at that. Sweet little pussy already cryin’ for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You whimper again, louder this time, hips shifting forward on instinct, chasing nothing.
“You alone tonight?” he asks. Casually, like he’s asking about the weather.
You nod, throat dry. “Dad’s working late again, always is.”
Toji hums, low in his chest. The sound vibrates through the air into your palms.
He reaches out, slow enough that you could pull away if you wanted.
You don’t.
Thick fingers catch the hem of your hoodie where it’s ridden up over your hip and he doesn’t pull it down. Just tugs it a little higher, exposing another inch of soft skin. His thumb brushes the edge of your shorts, barely a graze, but it feels like he’s touching you somewhere much more intimate.
“These are reaaaaal short,” he drawls. Voice gone darker. “You always walk around in shit like this?”
Your heart slams against your ribs. “Sometimes.”
He exhales through his nose, almost a growl.
“Careful, sweetheart.” His thumb presses just barely into the crease where thigh meets ass. “Lots of eyes around here.”
You’re trembling now and its not from fear, its from the sudden, vicious ache blooming low in your belly. Your thighs press together on instinct and he notices. Of course he does.
Toji’s eyes flick down to where your legs squeeze, then back up to your face, that smirk of his deepens.
“You scared of me?” he asks softly, almost sweet — if sweet could be laced with this much danger.
You shake your head, barely.
“Liar,” he says but he sounds pleased.
His hand slides higher, his fingers splaying wide across the small of your back, his palm is hot and rough as calluses drag against your skin like a promise. He doesn’t push you down. Doesn’t need to, you’re already melting into the floor boards, arching just enough that your ass lifts a fraction — offering.
He groans quietly and guttural, the first real crack in that cool exterior.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “You’re trouble.”
You lick your lips, voice barely there. “You gonna do something about it?”
His eyes snap to yours. Dark, predatory.
For one endless second neither of you moves.
Your breath hitches when his gaze drops again — straight to the damp patch you know is starting to show. The cotton’s darker there now, clinging, outlining the plump shape of your pussy lips so clearly it’s obscene. You’re soaked, have been since you noticed him watching. And he can fucking see it.
“Pretty little thing like you,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something dangerous-soft, “sittin’ out here all needy. Drippin’ through your shorts for the old man next door.”
Your mouth falls open on a shaky gasp. No denial. No lie. Just liquid heat, shameful heat — flooding between your legs at his words.
Toji’s eyes darken and hooks one thick finger under the hem of your shorts. Doesn’t pull them down. Just lifts the fabric the tiniest bit, letting it snap back against the crease of your thigh with a soft thwack.
“Bet these panties are fuckin’ ruined,” he says, almost conversationally. “All wet and clingy, pushin’ up against the seam, yeah?”
You whimper high and helpless, hips shifting forward before you can stop them.
He chuckles, low and mean. “Knew it.”
Toji’s hand moves again, this time cupping the side of your face, thumb stroking slow along your jaw. Calluses rough against your soft skin. “Pretty thing,” he murmured. “So shy. So needy. Bet you’ve been touchin’ yourself thinkin’ about the mean neighbour next door, huh? Imaginin’ what these hands would feel like spreadin’ you open.”
Your head tipped into his palm. Eyes fluttering. “Y-yes…”
“Good girl.” Praise hits like honey dripping down your spine. He leaned in closer — close enough his breath fanned your glossed lips. “Gonna kiss you now. Wanna taste how sweet that pouty mouth is before I ruin the rest of you.”
You nodded with frantic little jerks of your head.
Then his mouth is on yours.
Soft at first, just the brush of scarred lips over your glossy ones, tasting artificial cherry and nervous salt. He groaned low in his throat the second your mouths connect, like he’d been starving for it, his big hand slides to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wants so he could lick slow into the seam of your lips.
You opened for him instantly. Tongue shy and tentative, his is thicker, hotter, curling against yours with lazy confidence. He kisses like he had nowhere else to be, like he could spend hours just licking into your mouth, swallowing every tiny whimper you give him.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he mumbles against your lips between slow, wet kisses. “Taste like summer, like you’ve been waitin’ for this.”
His other hand finds your thigh, palming the plush inner meat, squeezing gently, thumb stroking higher and higher until it grazes the damp edge of your shorts, not pushing inside. Just petting. Soothing. Praising.
“Doin’ so good for me already,” he whispers, nipping your bottom lip. “Letting me kiss you like this. Letting me feel how wet you are just from my mouth. Such a good girl f'me already.”
You moan into his kiss loud and needy — hips canting up so his thumb presses firmer against the soaked outline of your pussy. He growls softly, rewarding you with another deep, filthy lick into your mouth.
The kiss turns hungrier. Wetter. His tongue fucks slow and deliberately into yours while his hand kneads your thigh, inching closer to where you ache most — never quite touching your clit, just circling, teasing, making you drip more and more until the cotton’s clinging transparently to every swollen fold.
He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath ragged, green eyes blown black with want.
“Tell me you want more,” he raspes. Voice wrecked. “Tell me you want my hands on you. My mouth. Everything.”
Your lips trembles, gloss smeared and eyes glassy.
“I want it,” you breathe. “Want you…please, Toji…”
He smiled then slowly, gaze darkening but still so gentle when his thumb brushes your cheek again.
“Good girl,” he purred.
And then he kissed you deeper — claiming, devouring, promising every filthy thing he's about to do to you next.
His mouth is still on yours hot, slow and filthy in the best way. Tongue sliding deep, curling lazy against yours like he's mapping every soft inch of your mouth, tasting the cherry gloss you’d slicked on earlier just because you felt pretty.
Toji kisses like a man who’s waited too long to taste something sweet and now couldn’t get enough. A big hand cradles the back of your neck, thumb stroking the sensitive spot just under your ear while the other squeezes the plush meat of your inner thigh — fingers digging in just enough to make your hips twitch forward, chasing more pressure against the soaked cotton clinging to your pussy.
You were drowning in it. Brain turning to warm syrup, every thought melting into the wet drag of his tongue, the faint scrape of his scar against your lower lip when he sucks it between his teeth. Soft little whimpers bubbling out of you every time he pulls back just to nip, just to breathe a rough “good girl” against your mouth before diving back in deeper.
Your hands found his shoulders somewhere in the haze, your fingertips digging into hard muscles under that tight black shirt, feeling the heat rolling off him like a furnace. He smells so good up close; clean sweat, faint cologne that clung to his neck, something darker and masculine underneath that made your clit throb harder every time you inhaled.
When he finally eases back — barely an inch, forehead pressing to yours, your lips swollen, gloss smeared across both your mouths, strings of spit connecting when yours part. You were panting, chest heaving under the half-zipped hoodie, nipples tight and aching against the thin tank.
Toji’s green eyes were blown black, pupils eating up the color as he stares down at you like you were the only thing left in the world worth looking at. His thumb brushing slowly over your bottom lip, spreading the mess even more.
“Fuck, look at this mouth,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough and wrecked. “All glossy and puffy from just my kisses. Bet it’d look even prettier wrapped around my cock.”
The words hit you like a slap of heat. Your thighs clenching hard — slick gushing fresh against your already drenched panties, the cotton so wet now it was sticking transparently to every plump fold. You could feel the outline of your pussy lips print shamelessly through the shorts, fat and swollen… begging.
You tried to speak — tried to be smart, to play it cool, but your brain was mush, words tumbling out careless and needy.
“W-wanna… come inside?” you breathed, barely coherent. “For… for a drink. Or… something. Please.”
Toji’s scarred lips curves slow and predatory, but still so fucking gentle when his thumb strokes your cheek again.
“Yeah?” he rasps. “You invitin’ the old man next door inside while your daddy’s gone? Careful, sweetheart. I might'n wanna leave once I get my hands on you proper.”
Your head bobs, frantical little nods. “I… I don’t want you to leave.”
He groans low in his throat, like the confession physically hurt him in the best way. Then he was standing, a slow roll of his muscles as he rose to his full height, now towering over you on the step. One big hand extended down.
“C’mon then pretty girl. Show me where you live.”
You take his hand, your small fingers swallowed up in his scarred palm and you let him pull you up. Legs shaky, thighs slick where they're rubbing together. The second you're standing he tugs you closer, arm banding around your waist so your soft body presses flush to his hard one. You could feel him, thick and heavy…his cock already half-hard and straining against his sweatpants, nudging insistently against your lower belly.
“Fuck,” he mutters into your hair, inhaling deep like he was trying to memorize your scent. “Smell's so sweet. Bet you taste even better between those thighs.”
He walks you the few steps to your door like that, an arm possessive around you, free hand palming slow over the curve of your ass through your shorts, squeezing the plush flesh like he was testing how soft you really are. You fumble the key with trembling fingers and he just chuckles low against your ear.
“Easy, baby. We got all night.”
The door finally opens. You stumble inside, the dim living room lit up only by the lamp you’d left on, the cheap couch, scattered textbooks from last semester you hadn’t bothered to put away. Toji kicks the door shut behind him without looking, then spun you gently until your back hits the wall beside it.
He didn’t crowd you right away. Just stood there, close enough you could feel his heat, but giving you that one last second to back out if you wanted.
You didn’t.
Instead you tipped your head back, lips parting eyes glassy and pleading.
Toji’s hand came up and cupsyour jaw so gently it made your chest ache, his thumb stroking over your swollen bottom lip again.
“Look at you,” he whispers, voice thick with something almost reverent. “So fuckin’ pretty. So young and soft and already drippin’ for a man old enough to know better. You know how filthy that is, sweetheart? How wrong?”
You whimpered, nodding your hips canting forward so the damp crotch of your shorts brushes the hard line of his cock through his sweats.
“Feels right to me,” you breathe out needy.
His eyes flutters shut for a second — like your words punched the air out of him. Then he was kissing you again, deeper this time, hungrier. Tongue fucking slow into your mouth while both hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you easy like you weighed nothing. Your legs wraps around his waist on instinct; he pins you to the wall with his hips, his thick cock grinding slow against your soaked pussy through layers of fabric.
You moaned loud into his mouth, a desperate, broken sound.
“That’s it,” he praises against your lips, rocking slow and deliberately. “Grind on it, baby, let me feel how wet you are for me. Soaked right through these little shorts… fuck, I can smell you. Sweet little cunt cryin’ for cock.”
His hands kneads your ass rough, spreading you open even through your clothes, his fingertips dipping under the hem of your shorts to brush the edge of your drenched panties. You jolt at the contact and he just shushes you softly by kissing the corner of your mouth.
“Doin’ so good,” he murmurs. “Such a good girl lettin’ me touch. Gonna take care of you, yeah? Gonna make this pretty pussy feel so full… but imma take my time. Wanna savor every second of ruinin’ you.”
You were shaking, your whole body trembling with need, clit throbbing against the drag of his cock every time he rolls his hips. Slick had soaked through everything now and you could feel it smearing against him, making the fabric cling obscenely.
“Toji…” His name comes out wrecked, pleading. “Please… need you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark, tender and filthy all at once.
“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, pressing one last soft kiss to your forehead. “I know. Gonna give you everything. But first…”
His hand slid between your bodies and cups your pussy over the shorts, his palm grinds slow against your swollen clit while two thick fingers traces the soaked outline of your lips through the cotton.
“Gonna make you come like this first,” he promises, voice low and wrecked with want. “Just from my hand, m'gonna watch this sweet little thing soak my fingers before I even get inside you. You gonna be good and come for me, baby?”
Your head falls back against the wall, eyes rolling, your hips already chasing his palm in frantic little circles.
“Y-yes… yes, please… Toji…”
He smiles slowly, dangerous and adoring.
“That’s my girl.”
And then he kisses you again deeper and filthy, while his hand works unhurried, perfect little circles over your dripping cunt, building you up slow and sweet until you’re trembling on the edge, ready to fall apart for the quiet neighbour who’d finally let you into his world.
Toji didn’t set you down.
Not even for a second.
The second your shaky “yes” left your lips he scoops you up like you weigh nothing, his big scarred hands sliding under the plush meat of your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor so your legs had no choice but to wrap tight around his narrow waist.
Your soaked shorts presses right against the thick, heavy ridge of his cock straining through his sweatpants, and the friction made you whimper into his mouth — high, the needy sound swallowed by another slow, filthy kiss.
Toji doesn’t even glance at the couch, he heads straight for your bedroom door instead. “Wanna take this where I can spread you out proper. Where I can watch every little thing that pretty face does when I make you come apart.”
Your arms loops around his neck — fingers digging into the short black hair at his nape, clinging like he's the only solid thing left in your world. He carries you down the short hallway like that, feet heavy on the cheap laminate, every step grinding his cock against your dripping pussy through the thin layers. You could feel how hard he is — thick, hot and pulsing, already leaking enough that a damp spot had started blooming on his sweats where your slick had soaked through everything.
Your bedroom door was half-open already. Small room — nothing fancy. Twin bed pushed against one wall with rumpled pastel sheets you hadn’t bothered making, fairy lights strung lazy across the headboard from last semester, a cluttered desk with half-finished college notes and empty energy drink cans. Window cracked, letting in the thick summer night air. It smells faintly like your vanilla body spray and the faint laundry detergent on your sheets.
Toji kicks the door shut behind him, a soft click of the latch sealing you both in and crosses the small space in three strides, he didn’t bother with the light. The glow from a dim lamp on your table and those soft fairy lights was enough — warm, hazy, turning his sharp features golden and making the scar on his mouth look even more wicked when he smirked down at you.
He lowered you slow onto the edge of the mattress carefully, almost worshipful, until your ass hit the comforter and your legs dangles off. But he didn’t step back. Just stayed between your spread thighs, towering, broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with something soft and hungry all at once. Big hands sliding up your sides, under the hem of your hoodie this time, his palms rough and warm dragging slow over the soft curve of your waist, thumbs brushing the underside of your tits through the thin tank. “So fuckin’ soft everywhere. Plush little body just beggin’ to be touched.”
You shiver, your whole body trembling as his hands keep roaming. Up your ribs, over the swell of your breasts, squeezing gently through fabric until your nipples peaks hard against his palms.
Then back down, his fingertips tracing the gentle pooch of your tummy, dipping into the soft dip of your navel, spreading wide to span the width of your lower belly like he was measuring how perfectly you’d fit under him.
His eyes drop lower, locking on the obscene wet spot darkening your shorts. The cotton plastered to your pussy now, every plump, fattened lip outlined clear as day, swollen clit peeking through like a needy little button begging for attention.
Slick soaked all the way through your cotton panties underneath, making the fabric sheer and clinging, showing the glossy sheen of your arousal coating every fold.
“Jesus,” he breathes, almost dazed. “Can’t even hide it, can you? Fat little cunt just printin’ out for me, drippin’ right through everything. Been leakin’ like this since I kissed you on the porch, huh?”
You nodded frantically, cheeks burning, your hips shifting forward on instinct so the soaked crotch of your shorts brushes his thigh.
Toji groans low, a deep rumble in his chest, then leans down, caging you with his arms braced on either side of your hips. His mouth finds your neck — hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing slow from under your ear down the column of your throat. He sucks gently at first, his lips sealing over soft skin, tongue flicking — then harder.
Teeth grazing just enough to sting before he soothes it with slow laps, blooming dark purple bruises one after another like he was marking territory.
“Good girl,” he whispers between sucks, voice muffled against your skin. “Lettin’ me mark you up like this. Gonna look so pretty tomorrow, little love bites all over this sweet neck so everyone knows who’s been takin’ care of you.”
His hands never stops moving, he slides them under your hoodie again, pushing the fabric up slowly until it bunches under your tits. Callused palms dragging over bare skin now, the rough texture making you arch, you let out a faint gasp, as his fingers splays wide over your soft tummy, kneading gently like he couldn’t get enough of how plush you were there.
“Love this,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. “This soft little belly. Gonna watch it bounce when I’m fuckin’ you deep later. Gonna feel it quiver when you come all over my cock.”
You were whimpering nonstop now, your brain goopy, thoughts reduced to nothing but the heat of his mouth, the weight of his hands, the slow grind of his hips every time he shifts closer. He was still fully clothed, his tight black shirt stretching over thick pecs and sharp-cut abs, sweatpants slung low but you could feel every ridge of muscle flexing against you when he moved. Solid. Unyielding. Cutting through the thin layers like he was already inside you.
Toji pulls back just enough to look at your face, eyes dark, tender and filthy with want. Thumb brushing over one of the fresh bruises on your throat, a gentle stroke that made you shiver.
“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he praises, voice low and steady. “Look how pretty you are.” Your eyes were all glassy, lips swollen, pussy so wet he could hear it every time you shift. “Gonna take my time with you, m'gonna touch every inch, talk you through it nice and slow till you’re shakin’ and beggin’.”
One hand slides down, cupping your soaked mound over the shorts, his palm grinding slow against your clit while thick fingers traces the plump outline of your lips through the fabric. Not pushing inside yet. Just petting. Soothing. Building.
“Feel that?” he whispers, pressing firmer so you could feel how your slick squelches against his palm. “That’s all for me. Sweet little thing gettin’ this messy just from my kisses and my hands. Such a good girl. My good girl.”
You moan, loud and broken, your head tipping back as your hips rolls up into his touch.
He kisses you again, his tongue sliding against yours while his hand keeps that lazy rhythm between your thighs. The other stays on your tummy, rubbing slow circles over the soft pudge, possessive and adoring all at once.
“Gonna watch you fall apart, sweetheart,” he promised against your mouth. “Gonna make this pretty pussy cum so hard you see stars. And then I’m gonna do it again. And again. Till you’re too fucked-out to think about anything but me.”
His fingers hooks under the waistband of your shorts slowly tugging it downward, just enough to bare the top of your drenched panties.
“Ready for more?” he murmurs, nipping your bottom lip. “Gonna strip you and kiss every bruise I leave, spread these plush thighs and taste how sweet you are.”
Your answer was a shaky nod, eyes locked on his and pleading.
Toji smiles slow, dangerous and so fucking gentle.
“That’s my girl.”
And then he starts peeling your hoodie off slowly, his hands worshipping every new inch of bare skin he uncovers, mouth following right behind with more soft kisses and praise, ready to unravel you piece by trembling piece on your little twin bed while the summer night presses warm against the window.
Toji pulls back from your neck, his lips shiny with spit, a fresh bruise blooming dark and pretty under your jaw and his eyes drops to your face. You were a wreck already, cheeks flushing hot, eyes glassy and half-lidded, mouth hanging open in soft little pants.
A thin string of drool had slipped from the corner of your lips, trailing slow down your chin like you’d forgotten how to swallow. Fuck. The sight punches straight through him, making his cock twitch hard against the damp front of his sweats, thickening even more until the fat head was outlined clear as day through the gray cotton.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he rasps, voice thick and wrecked. “Look at you droolin’ for me already. Can’t even keep that pretty mouth closed.”
He leans in slow, his big hand cupping the side of your face, thumb sweeping under your lower lip to catch the mess. But instead of wiping it away he just smears it wider and then dips down and licks it up himself, tongue flat and hot dragging slowly from your chin to the corner of your mouth, tasting the sweet-salty mix of your spit and his earlier kisses. You whimper the sound coming out high and broken as he seals his scarred lips over yours again in one sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.
Tongues sliding messy and wet, no rhythm left. Just hunger. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth with a gentle tug and then plunges back in, licking deep into your mouth like he was trying to drink every drop of you.
Drool spilling between your lips, stringing down your chin again, soaking into the collar of your tank. You're making the filthiest little noises, soft, wet glucks every time his tongue licks into you and he groans low against your mouth, swallowing them all down.
“Such a messy girl,” he murmurs between kisses, nipping your tongue. “Doin’ so good though. Lettin’ me lick it all up. My sweet, sloppy baby.”
He breaks the kiss with a wet pop, a string of spit connecting your mouths for a second before it snaps and he sits back on his heels between your spread thighs. His eyes raking down your body slowly, like he was memorizing every inch. Hoodie shoved up to your tits, tank rucked under them so the soft undersides spilled out.
Shorts still on but soaked dark at the crotch, clinging transparently to the plump mound of your pussy. The fat lips were printed perfect through the cotton — swollen, puffy, glossy with thick gluey slick that had leaked through your panties and was now starting to drip down the crease of your thighs, making shiny wet trails on your sheets.
Toji’s mouth waters so hard he has to swallow. His cock was rock-hard now — veined, fattened, throbbing painfully against his sweats. He palmed it once, roughly squeezed it through the fabric, just to take the edge off. The head leaking more, darkening the gray in a fat wet spot right at the tip. But he didn’t care about himself yet. Not when your pretty soaked pussy was right there, begging for his mouth.
“Fuck,” he breathes, voice strained. “Look at this messy little thing.” So sticky. So sappy. “Drippin’ all over your bed like you can’t help it.”
He hooks two thick fingers under the waistband of your shorts, slowly tugging it down your hips. You lifted for him on instinct, — a shaky little arch and he peels them off along with your drenched panties in one go. The fabric stuck for a second — clinging to your slick folds before coming free with a wet schlick. Strings of thick, glossy arousal stretching between the cotton and your pussy, snapping slow as he tosses them aside.
Your legs fell open wider, your knees bent, feet planted on the mattress and there it was; your pussymound all shiny and swollen, lips puffy and parted just enough to show the sticky pretty inside. Slick coating everything — thick, gluey strands webbing between your folds, dripping slow down to your tight little hole that clenched on nothing.
Your clit was begging — fattened, flushed dark, peeking out from its hood like it was throbbing for attention. The whole thing glistened under the fairy lights — sappy, cummy, so fucking wet it looked obscene.
Toji groaned deeply, a guttural sound coming from his chest. His hands slid up your plush thighs, spreading you wider, thumbs hooking under the meat where thigh met hip so he could hold you open. Your pussy lips parted more, the sticky strings stretching, then breaking, revealing the creamy mess inside.
“Goddamn,” he whispers, almost to himself. “Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen. All swollen and leaking for me. Gonna taste every drop, baby. Gonna lick this sweet cunt clean till you’re shakin’.”
You whimper high and desperate, your hips twitching up toward his face.
He leaned in slow, his hot breath fanning over your clit first, making it jump. Then his tongue, flat and wide dragged up the entire length of your slit in one long, slow lick. From your dripping hole to the tip of your clit. Thick gluey slick coated his tongue instantly, sweet, tangy, so fucking much of it he had to swallow hard. He groaned against you, the vibration rumbling straight through your core.
“So sweet,” he praised, voice muffled as he licked again — slower this time, savoring it. “Taste like fuckin’ heaven. My good girl’s pussy all creamy and ready. Doin’ so perfect for me.”
His tongue circled your clit, with gentle flicks at first, then slower, broad laps that made your hips buck. One big hand slid up to your soft tummy, his palm spreading wide over the plush curve, holding you down gentle while his mouth worked. The other kept your thigh spread, thumb stroking soothing circles on the inner meat while he sucked your clit between his lips, a soft pull, then releasing, then pulling again.
You were moaning nonstop loud and wrecked, the sounds filling the small room. Slick gushing fresh with every lick — thick ropes of it coating his chin, dripping down his neck. He didn’t stop, just kept on lapping messy and hungry, his tongue dipping into your tight hole to scoop out more of that gluey cream, then dragging back up to suckle your clit like it was candy.
“Look at her clenchin’,” he murmured between licks, eyes flicking up to watch your face. “So tight and needy. Gonna come for me like this, yeah? Gonna let me drink all this pretty mess while you fall apart?”
His tongue plunged deeper, fucking slow into your hole, then he pulled out to circle your clit again, the hand on your tummy pressed firmer, feeling the way your muscles quivered under his palm.
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, voice thick with praise. “Doin’ so good. Such a sweet girl lettin’ me eat this pussy. Gonna make you come so hard you soak my face. Then I’m gonna do it again. Gonna keep goin’ till you’re cryin’ my name.”
He sucked harder, his lips sealing around your clit, tongue flicking faster now and your whole body arched, your thighs shaking, hands fisting the sheets, drool slipping from your open mouth again as the pleasure coiled tight and hot in your belly.
Toji didn’t let up, he just kept licking slow and filthy, worshipfully talking you through every tremor, every gush of slick, every broken whimper.
“My perfect girl,” he rasped against your dripping cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me taste how good I make you feel.”
And with one more long, slow drag of his tongue — circling your begging clit just right — you shattered.
You came hard, harder than you ever had alone in this little bed with your fingers or with that cheap little vibe tucked in your drawer. Your whole body seized up like lightning hit your spine, thighs clamping around Toji’s head on instinct, plush hips bucking wild against his mouth while thick ropes of slick gushed straight onto his tongue.
Your clit throbbing against his lips — fat, swollen, pulsing like a second heartbeat — and he didn’t pull away. Didn’t even flinch. Just groaned deep into your cunt like the taste of your orgasm was the only thing he’d been starving for all summer.
“Thaaat’s it,” he rasped, voice muffled and wrecked against your dripping folds. “Come all over my face, sweetheart. Fuck, look at her spillin’ for me. So sweet. So fuckin’ messy.”
He kept licking slow, greedy — greedy laps through the aftermath — cleaning up every fresh gush like he couldn’t bear to waste a drop. Your pussy lips were puffy and flushed dark now, glossy with spit and cum, parting easy every time his tongue nudged between them. Slick coated his chin, dripping down his scarred neck in shiny trails, soaked into the collar of his black shirt. The fairy lights caught it all — turning the mess iridescent, obscene, beautiful.
You were shaking, overstimulated already, clit so sensitive it hurt in the best way, but Toji wasn’t done. Not even close. Man-starved didn’t even cover it, he ate like he’d been denied pussy his whole life and yours was the first real meal he’d ever had. Toji after a moment hooked his fingers into the underside of his shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion.
Then his big hands shoved your thighs wider, thumbs hooking under the crease where thigh met hip, spreading you so open your tight little hole winked at him with every clench.
He pulled back just enough to look, eyes black with hunger, pupils blown wide watching the way your fattened lips trembled, the way thick gluey strings of your arousal stretched between them like spider silk every time you fluttered.
“Goddamn,” he breathed softly. “This pretty cunt’s still cryin’ for more. Look how she’s clenchin’… all tight and needy even after comin’ that hard. Fuck, baby… you’re killin’ me.”
He dove back in — lips sealing over your clit again, sucking soft at first, then harder. Wet, filthy pulls that made your hips jerk, made your back arch off the mattress until your tits spilled free from under the rucked-up tank. His tongue flicked fast over the swollen bud — quick little lashes — then slowed to broad, dragging circles that had you sobbing.
“Toj i— f-fuck — too much — s’too much — ”
“Shhh,” he soothed without stopping, voice vibrating straight through your core. “You can take it. Doin’ so good for me. My perfect girl. Just lemme taste a little more. Gotta drink every drop this sweet pussy’s givin’ me.”
He licked lower, his tongue plunging slow into your tight hole, fucking in and out with lazy thrusts that made obscene wet squelches fill the room. Your walls fluttered around him greedily, sucking at his tongue like they wanted to keep him inside forever. He groaned — deep, guttural — then pulled out just to spit right onto your clit. A thick glob of his saliva landed hot and heavy, mixing with your slick, running down your folds in slow rivulets.
You whimpered, high and broken when he blew a soft puff of air over the mess, his cool breath hitting your overheated, spit-slick clit like ice on fire. Your whole pussy jolted — clit jumping, hole clenching hard enough to push out another bead of thick cream that dripped slow down your ass.
“Fuck yeah,” he growled, watching it with dark, fascinated eyes. “Look at her twitch. Sensitive little thing. Love how she jumps when I blow on her. Gonna make her come again just like this.” You were overstimulated and shaking.
He sucked your clit back into his mouth, gently this time, lips soft around the swollen bud while his tongue lapped slow, soothing circles. One hand slid up your soft tummy, his palm spreading wide over the soft give of skin, fingers splaying to feel every quiver of your muscles.
The other kept your thigh pinned, thumb stroking slow, reassuring circles on the inner skin like he was petting you through the overstimulation.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured between sucks, pulling off just long enough to speak before diving back in. “Lettin’ me eat this messy cunt even when it’s too much. Takin’ everything I give you. So pretty when you cry for me like this.”
He licked into you again, deeper this time, his tongue curling to scoop out the thickest parts of your cream, feeding it back to your pussy with slow, filthy thrusts. Then he pulled out, lips shiny, chin dripping and spat again. Right onto your hole this time, watching it slide in, mixing with your slick until everything was glossy and obscene.
“Breathe, baby,” he cooed, blowing another soft puff over your clit, watching it throb, watching your hips buck helplessly. “Just breathe. M'gonna make you come again. Gonna suck this pretty clit till you’re soakin’ the sheets even more. Wanna see how many times I can make her gush before you’re beggin’ me to fuck you.”
Your hands flew to his hair — fingers tangling in the black strands, pulling hard enough to make him growl against you. But he loved it, loved the way you were falling apart and drooling again, spit slipping from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling back as another wave built fast and brutal in your belly.
He sucked harder — lips sealing tight, cheeks hollowing — tongue flicking relentless over your clit while he hummed low, vibrations rumbling straight through you. His free hand pressed firmer on your tummy, feeling the way your muscles clenched, the way your whole body trembled on the edge.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he praised, voice thick and wrecked. “Give it to me. Come all over my tongue again. Let me taste how overstimulated this sweet pussy gets for me. My good girl, my perfect, messy, drippin’ girl.”
One more long, slow drag of his tongue, circling your clit just right, then plunging back into your clenching hole and you shattered again. Harder. Louder, your whole body convulsing, thighs shaking around his head, slick gushing in thick spurts that coated his mouth, his chin and the sheets beneath you.
Toji drank it all — groaning like a man possessed — licking slow through the aftershocks, soothing your twitching clit with soft kitten licks while you sobbed his name, overstimulated and wrecked and still so fucking needy for more.
He finally pulled back — lips swollen, face a mess of spit and cum, his eyes locking on yours with that dark, adoring hunger.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, crawling up your body slow, caging you under his broad frame. “You taste like sin. Like every filthy thing I’ve ever wanted.”
His mouth found yours, in a slow, deep kiss letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Thick fingers sliding between your thighs again and petting your soaked, puffy pussy gentle now, soothing the oversensitive folds.
“Still shakin’,” he murmured against your lips, smiling soft and filthy. “Still drippin’. Think you can take my cock now, sweetheart? Or you need me to eat this pretty cunt one more time first?”
Your answer was a broken whimper — hips canting up toward his hand, begging without words.
He chuckled low, dark and tenderly.
“That’s my girl.”
Toji had finally pulled his mouth off your wrecked pussy — lips swollen dark red, his chin still glistening with thick ropes of your slick and his spit that stretched and snapped every time he moved.
He gave you one more slow, sweet savouring kiss to your sweet little lips before crouching back down between your trembling thighs for a second longer, just staring at the mess he’d made; your fat pussy mound all shiny and puffy, lips parted and drooling slow streams of cream down your ass, onto the already soaked sheets.
Your clit was a throbbing little pearl now — fattened up dark and glossy, peeking out like it was begging for one more touch even after two brutal orgasms. Your tight hole kept clenching on nothing — suckling air, pushing out fresh beads of gluey slick that made obscene wet sounds in the quiet room.
He groaned low, the sound ripping out from deep in his chest and he palmed his cock through his sweats again. Harder this time, giving it a rough squeeze that made the thick vein along the underside jump under his hand.
The front of the gray fabric was wrecked — a dark wet patch spreading from the fat, leaking tip, glossy pre soaking through in thick globs that clinged to the cotton like honey.
You saw the outline perfectly now; his fat fuckin’ cock all hardened up for you, swollen and heavy, curving slightly to the left, the round mushroom head so chubbed and probably flushed it looked angry.
“Fuck, look what you did to me, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice gravel-thick with want. “Got me so hard it hurts. Leakin’ like a faucet just from tastin’ this pretty cunt. You see how much pre I’m givin’ you? All for this messy little pussy.”
He shoved his sweats down slow enough to free himself, then kicked it off completely. His cock sprang out heavy the thick base dusted with dark curls of hair, shaft veined and ridged, fattened tip glossy with a fat pearl of pre that beaded at the pink slit and dripping slow down the underside.
It bobbed once, smacking wet against his abs, before he wrapped one scarred hand around the middle and gave himself one lazy stroke. More pre welled up — thick and clear — dribbling over his knuckles.
Your mouth watered. Your pussy clenched hard — sappy walls fluttering, clit jumping at the sight. You were so wet still — thicker now, gluey strands webbing between your lips every time your hips twitched.
Toji crawled back up your body, slow and carefully caging you in, under his broad frame. One thick forearm braced beside your head, the other hand guiding his cock down between your thighs. He didn’t push in…not yet. Just rubbing slow, filthy drags of that fattened round tip through your glossed folds.
The head was scorching hot — swelled up so big it parted your puffy lips easy, spreading them wide around the blunt crown. Your clammy, glued pussylips sucked at him, clinging wetly every time he dragged back, strings of your slick stretching from your hole to his tip like they didn’t want to let go. He nudged your clit with the slit, smearing thick pre over the aching bud — making it throb harder, making you whimper high and broken.
“Feel that?” he murmurs, voice low and mean-teasing as he rocked slow. “Fat fuckin’ cock all hardened up just for you.” Rubbin’ right through your glossy folds. “Y’er sweet little pussy’s kissin’ me back, suckin’ on the tip like she’s tryin’ to pull me in.”
You nodded — desperately, drool slipping from your open mouth again, hips canting up to chase more friction. Your clit was so achy, fattened and sensitive, every glide of his swollen head over it sent sparks shooting up your spine.
Toji chuckled, the sound breathless and dark — then pressed firmer. The round tip notched right at your entrance, stretching the tight ring just enough to make your hole flutter and suckle greedy around him. Not inside. Just teasing…just enough to feel how hot and wet and ready you were.
“Look how she’s grippin’,” he praised, eyes locked on where your pussy lips hugged the head of his cock — clinging, glossy, dripping. “Tight little hole sucklin’ like she’s starvin’. Fuck, baby, you’re so so wet. Drippin’ all over my dick before I even get in. Such a needy girl.”
He rocked against you slowly again, dragging that fattened tip up your slit to bump your clit, then back down to nudge your hole. Pre mixed with your slick, making everything slippery, obscene, the wet schlick, schlick, schlick filling the room every time he teased. Your clit throbbed harder, achy and begging, every time the ridge of his crown caught it just right.
“Toji…please—” Your voice cracked — high, pleading. “Need it… need you inside…”
He groaned, the deep rumble vibrating through both of you, then leaned down to kiss you lovingly, slow and sweet, his tongue sliding against yours while he kept that mean, teasing rhythm; fat tip rubbing through your folds, bumping your clit, nudging your hole, spreading you open without giving you what you craved.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips, voice wrecked with restraint. “Gonna tease this sweet pussy a little longer. Wanna feel how much wetter you get. Wanna watch this fat little cunt cry for my cock till you’re shakin’ and sobbin’.”
One big hand slid under your ass, lifting your hips just enough to change the angle. Now every slow drag had his swollen tip catching right on your entrance — stretching the rim, making your walls flutter desperate around nothing. Your clit dragged along the thick underside of his shaft, veins bumping the sensitive bud, sending fresh gushes of slick coating him.
“Feel how hard I am for you?” he rasped, rocking firmer. All his thick pre leakin’ “Just thinkin’ about sinkin’ into this tight, pretty cunt. You’re so fuckin’ wet, baby. So ready. But I wanna hear you beg a little more. Wanna hear how bad my good girl needs this fat cock stretchin’ her open.”
Your hands flew to his shoulders — nails digging into hard muscle, your hips rolling up frantically to chase his teasing. Slick squelching loud between you, gluey strands clinging to his shaft, dripping down his heavy balls that brushed your ass with every rock.
“Toji… please… fuck m’need you so bad —” You were babbling now, voice wrecked, drool slipping down your chin. “Want your cock… want it deep… please —”
He smiled slow, adoringly and mean, then kissed you again, deep and claiming — while his hips kept that torturous rhythm: fat fuckin’ cock rubbing slow through your glossed folds, teasing your achy clit, nudging your suckling hole, making you drip and clench and beg for the stretch you were dying for.
“Soon, baby,” he promised, voice thick with hunger. “Gonna give you every thick inch. Gonna ruin this pretty pussy so good you’ll feel me for days. But first… keep beggin’. Keep drippin’. Show me how desperate my sweet girl is for it.”
And he kept teasing, relentless — until your whole body was trembling, pussy clenching empty and greedy, clit throbbing achy and swollen, slick pooling under your ass in a sticky puddle while he watched you fall apart under his mean, loving touch.
Toji’s hips stilled for a second, his fat, glossy cockhead still notched right at your entrance, stretching the tight ring of your hole just enough that it fluttered desperately around him. Your clammy, slick walls were sucking greedily at the swollen tip, like your pussy was trying to pull him deeper even while fighting the stretch. He was so fuckin’ thick, the round mushroom head bloated and veined, ridged crown — catching on every soft fold as he pushed forward slowly, agonizingly slow.
You gasped high and sharp the sound cracking into a whimper — back arching off the mattress, plush thighs trembling where they were hooked over his hips. Your hole clenched hard on instinct — clammy, hot and so so tight it made his breath hitch rough in his throat.
“Fuck.. easy, sweetheart,” voice low and wrecked, one big scarred hand sliding under your ass to lift your hips just a fraction higher. “You’re grippin’ me like a vice already and I’ve barely got the tip in. So fuckin’ tight… this pretty little cunt’s never taken anything this big, huh?”
You shook your head — frantic little jerks — drool slipping from the corner of your mouth again as you stared up at him with glassy, pleading eyes.
Your clit still achy and swollen from his teasing, throbbing every time the base of his shaft dragged against it on accident. Slick poured out around his tip — thick, gluey strands coating the fat crown, dripping down his heavy balls in slow, shiny rivulets.
Toji groaned gutterally, his forehead dropping to rest against yours for a second while he fought not to just slam home. His cock throbbing hard inside that tiny stretch — veins pulsing against your clenching walls, pre leaking in fat drops that mixed with your cream and made everything even messier.
“Look at you tryin’ so hard for me,” he praised, voice soft and thick with adoration even as his hips rocked in tiny, teasing nudges. “Takin’ just the tip like such a good girl. Feel how she’s suckin’ on me? Fuck…your hole’s so tight and wet, baby. Grippin’ like she don’t ever wanna let go.”
He pushed forward another fraction — barely an inch more and your pussy resisted, walls fluttering wild around the fattened ridge of his crown. The stretch burned sweet — hot, the aching fullness made your toes curl and your nails rake down his broad back. A fresh gush of slick squirted out around him, coating his shaft, dripping onto the sheets in a sticky puddle.
“Haaah —Toji ” Your voice broke, high and wrecked, hips twitching up like you couldn’t decide if you wanted more or needed a second to breathe.
“Shhh, I got you,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth gently-sweet — tongue flicking out to catch the drool on your chin. “Doin’ so perfect. So so tight for me… gonna make it fit, yeah? Gonna stretch this sweet little pussy slow till she’s huggin’ every thick inch. You’re my good girl, my perfect, drippin’ girl. Just breathe for me.”
His free hand slid up your soft tummy, his palm spreading wide over the plushness there, fingers splaying to feel the way your muscles quiver under him. He rocked again — tiny, shallow thrusts that barely moved the tip in and out, just enough to let your walls flutter and adjust around the blunt head.
Every nudge made obscene wet sounds, — schlick- schlick-schlick — your slick squelching loudly around him, strings of it clinging to his veined shaft like they were trying to keep him buried.
“Feel that burn, baby?” he cooed, voice low and praising as he watched your face — eyes locking on every flutter of your lashes, every tremble of your lips. “That’s me openin’ you up. So tight it’s squeezin’ the cum right outta me… fuck, you’re leakin’ all over my cock. Such a messy, needy cunt. Love how she’s fightin’ me and still beggin’ for more.”
He pushed again — slower this time — watching with dark, hungry eyes as another inch sank in. Your hole stretched wider, your puffy lips hugging the thickest part of his crown, clinging glossy and white-knuckled around him. The stretch was obscene — your clit jumping every time the ridge dragged over it on the way in, fresh cream bubbling out to coat him.
“Haaah — fuck — there we go,” he breathed, thumb stroking slow circles over your lower belly where he could feel the faint bulge starting to form just from the tip and a little more. “Look at that… already makin’ a pretty little bump and I’m not even halfway. So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. Takin’ me like you were made for it.”
You were sobbing softly now, broken little sounds as your hips canted up helplessly, trying to take more even as your walls spasmed around the invasion. Slick pouring steadily, thick and gluey — drenching his balls, soaking the sheets under your ass in a warm, sticky mess.
Toji leaned down and kissed you deep and slow, his tongue sliding against yours while he kept those tiny, rocking thrusts. Just the tip popping in and out, stretching you open, teasing your clenching hole, making your clit throb against the veined underside every time he pulled back.
“Doin’ so good,” he whispers into your mouth between kisses. “My sweet girl takin’ just the tip so perfectly. Gonna keep goin’ slow, gonna make it fit inch by inch till this fat cock’s buried deep where you need it. You feel how hard I am for you? How much I’m leakin’? All ‘cause this tight little pussy’s grippin’ me like she never wants me to leave.”
One more gentle push and another thick inch goes sliding in and your back bows, a moan ripping out loud and raw as your walls flutter wild around him. He stills again, letting you adjust, his forehead pressing to yours, breath ragged.
“Almost there, baby,” he praises, voice thick with restraint and adoration. “So so tight… but you’re takin’ me so good. My perfect girl. Gonna fill you up soon, m’gonna stretch this sticky hole till it’s huggin’ every veiny inch. Ahh — Just a little more… just breathe and let me make it fit.”
His thumb finds your clit, and circles over the swollen bud slow and gently while he rocks another inch in shallow, keeping you on that razor edge of stretch and pleasure. Slick gushing fresh with every tiny thrust — coating him, dripping down, making the slide just a little easier even as your pussy fights to keep him right where he is.
“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your tear-streaked cheek. “Tell me how full you are already… how much you need the rest.”
Your answer is a broken whimper, your hips rolling up desperately, pussy clenching hard around just the tip and a little more now.
“Need… need all of you… please, Toji —”
He smiles slow, filthy but so fucking tender, then kisses you again, deep and claiming while his hips started that slow, relentless push forward again.
“That’s my girl,” he rasps against your lips. “Gonna give you everything. Gonna make this tight little cunt take every thick inch till you’re cryin’ and comin’ all over me.”
And inch by torturous inch he keeps making it fit. Slow. Sweet. Praising you through every clench, every gush, every trembling stretch until your pussy finally starts to yield — walls fluttering open, sucking him deeper, greedily and wrecked and so so ready for the rest.
Then Toji’s patience snapped like a thin wire, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest as his big scarred hands clamped around your soft waist. No warning. No gentle coaxing. Just raw, starving need. He grabs your little body like it was his to manhandle, his rough palms digging into your plush hips, flipping you onto your side in one swift yank that made the mattress springs squeak protest.
“Fuck ah I-I can’t take it anymore,” he rasps, voice thick and wrecked. “Need to go deeper. Need this tight cunt stuffed full, m’gonna make her take every fuckin’ inch now.”
He drags you down the bed, the sheets tangling around your ankles, until your ass hangs off the edge just enough, cheeks jiggling from the rough pull. Your face mashed into the rumpled comforter — cheek smushing against the soft fabric, drool already pooling under your agape mouth.
One hand flew out on instinct, your fingers clutching the fluffy stuffed bear you keep on the pillow (the one with the little bow tie you’d had since middle school), knuckles white as you gripped it like a lifeline while your body arches helplessly.
Toji presses your legs together, his thick thighs pressing your plush ones tight, forcing your chubby little cunt to pucker even more obscenely. Your fat pussy lips squished together now, glossy and swollen, the plump folds mashed into one slick, puffy seam that barely parts for the fat pink tip still teasing your entrance.
The position makes everything tighter — your gummy walls clenching harder, clit trapped between those squeezed-together lips, throbbing achy and trapped against the pressure.
He lines up, his veined, thick cock — throbbing heavy in his fist — and pushes in.
No slow tease this time.
The fat crown spears past your puckered entrance with a wet, filthy pop — stretching those mashed-together lips wide around his girth. Your hole sucking greedily and clenching so tight it made his eyes roll back, but he doesn’t stop.
Just keeps feeding inch after thick, veined inch into your poor stuffed cunt, the squeeze so intense it forces thick ropes of your gooey cream to bubble out around him, coating his shaft in shiny white strands that drip slow down your inner thighs.
“Haah… fuck — listen to her,” he groans, hips snapping forward harder now that the angle let him sink deeper. “This chubby little cunt’s cryin’ so loud for me. Squeezin’ like she’s scared I’ll pull out… but she’s suckin’ me right back in. Fuckin’ perfect.”
You wail high, lewd and broken, your cries muffled into the mattress — voice cracking every time his cock punches deeper. Never been fucked like this, with legs squeezed shut making your pussy feel impossibly smaller, every ridge and vein dragging slow and mean along your gummy walls.
Your fat lips puckering tight around his base — stretching thin and glossy, clinging desperately like they were made to mold to his shape. The pressure mashes your clit right against the thick underside of his shaft — rubbing it raw with every brutal thrust, sending sparks shooting up your spine until your toes curl hard.
Toji loses it completely.
Big hands gripping your hips — fingers sinking into soft flesh hard enough to bruise, and he starts pounding. Deep, mean strokes that bottoming out with a wet slap every time his heavy balls smacks your clit.
Precum and your thick cream mixing into a frothy mess squirting out around his cock with every pull-back, dripping in sticky webs down your thighs, soaking the edge of the bed where your ass hangs off.
“Goddamn, look at this mess you’re makin’,” he pants, voice rough and praising all at once. “Gooey little pussy just spillin’ everywhere f’me. So fuckin’ cute how she’s creamin’ all over my dick… takin’ it so deep even when she’s squeezes this tight. My good girl…my filthy, drippin’ girl.”
Your cries turn desperate — muffled sobs into the stuffed bear you are clutching, tears streaking hot down your cheeks. Every thrust punches the air out of your lungs, his cockhead kissing your cervix mean and relentless, stretching your gummy walls wide around his veined thickness.
Your clit rubs mercilessly against him — trapped between those puckered lips, swollen and throbbing, building that coil tighter and tighter until your whole body shakes.
“Feel that?” he growles, leaning over you, his broad chest pressing to your back, sweat-slick skin sliding against yours. One hand slides up to cup your soft tummy — palm pressing down so he can feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. “Feel how deep I am, baby? Stuffin’ this chubby cunt so full she’s leakin’ like a faucet. Gonna make you come like this.” legs squeezed tight, clit rubbed raw and pussy stretched mean around every thick inch of his.
He snaps his hips harder, the angle perfect now, his cock dragging right over that spongy spot inside while his shaft grinds against your trapped clit. Slick squelches loud and obscene, wet slaps filling the room, your gooey cream frothing white at the base of his cock, dripping in thick strands every time he pulls back.
You shatter hard.
Whole body convulsing, walls clamping down like a vice around his pounding cock, milking him greedily as you scream into the mattress. Fresh gushes of slick squirting out around him, hot and messy, soaking his balls, drenching the sheets, making every thrust even sloppier. Your clit throbs wild against him — overstimulated and raw, sending aftershocks after aftershock rippling through you until your legs shake uncontrollably.
Toji groans deep and feral, his hips stuttering as your pussy sucks him in tight.
“Fuck… Aaah yeah, come on my cock, sweetheart,” he praises, voice breaking with how close he was. “Squeezin’ so fuckin’ tight… makin’ such a cute mess f’er me. Good girl, my perfect, pretty girl. Gonna fill this stuffed cunt up soon… gonna pump you so full you’ll be leakin’ me for days.”
He didn’t stop, Toji kept fucking you through it, with mean, deep thrusts that made your ass jiggle, made your cries turn hoarse and wrecked. His veined cock dragged slow and filthy through your fluttering walls — still so tight from your legs squeezed together and clit still rubbing helpless against him with every slam.
“Haah mhnm fuck…m’not done yet,” he rasps, hand sliding down to spread one cheek, exposing where you were stretched obscene around him. “Gonna keep, ah goin’. Gonna ruin this pretty pussy till she’s cryin’ for more… till you’re so full of cum you can’t move.”
And he did — pounding harder, deeper, meaner all while you clutched your stuffed bear tighter, face buried in the mattress, drooling and sobbing and coming undone again and again around his thick cock that finally fit all the way inside your chubby, gooey, perfect little cunt.
Toji’s hips roll in one long, deliberate drag — pulling back just enough that his thick, veined cock starts to slip free from your stuffed little hole. Your sloppy pussy doesn't want to let go. Gummy walls clenching down hard — squeezin’ greedy around every ridge and bump like they’re scared he’d leave you empty.
His foreskin bunches up soft and slick around the fattened base of his crown as he withdraws — pink tip glistening obscene with a thick coat of your cream and his own sappy pre, strings of it stretching taut between your puffy lips and his shaft before snapping wetly against your inner thighs.
You whine high and utterly broken, face mashed deeper into the mattress, your cheek smushed against the soft fur of your stuffed bear, fingers clutching the little plush thing so tight the seams strained. Drool still pooling under your slacked maw, soaking the fabric while your hips twitch back helplessly, chasing the stretch even as he teases you with the slow retreat.
“Fuck haah… listen to that,” he rasps, voice low and filthy-thick with awe. “This nasty lil’ pussy’s makin’ the sloppiest sounds just ‘cause I’m pullin’ out. Squelchin’ like she’s beggin’ me to stay buried. So fuckin’ greedy, baby.”
He didn’t let you go empty for long.
Right when the fat pink tip was almost out — your hole fluttering desperately around the ridge, he leaned over you again, his broad chest pressing hot to your back — and spat. A thick, heavy glob of spit landing right on your stretched entrance — hot and messy — sliding down the puffy seam of your mashed-together pussylips before dripping slow into the clenching ring still hugging his crown, the added slick made everything even nastier, your syrup-thick cream mixing with his spit, bubbling white and frothy where your walls gripped him.
Toji groans deep, a rumble that vibrates straight through you as he pushes forward again. Slow and mean, feeding every thick inch back into your pussy until his hips slapped flush against your ass, his balls heavy and wet smacking your clit trapped between those squeezed thighs. Your pussy sucking him in greedy — gummy walls fluttering wild, clinging so tight it made his eyes roll back.
“Haah…there we go,” he praises, hands clamping harder on your soft waist — fingers sinking into plush flesh like you really are his personal fleshlight, something soft and warm and perfect to use. “Takin’ me all the way again. Feel how deep I am, sweetheart?” His cockhead now kissin’ your cervix… — mngh "Stretchin’ this sloppy hole wide. God your pussy’s so fuckin’ good. So tight even after all that cream you just gushed.”
He drew back again slowly and torturous, watching the way your fat pussylips dragged along his veined shaft, clinging glossy and swollen, trying to keep him inside. Nasty lil’ squelches filling the room — wet, obscene pops every time he pulls out halfway — your syrup-thick pussy noisily protesting, cream bubbling out in thick white rings around his base, dripping slow down your inner thighs in sticky trails that soaked the edge of the mattress.
Your sobbing is muffled into the stuffed bear, your whole body trembling as he manhandles you deeper into the bed. One big hand slides up your spine — pushing your face firmer into the comforter, while the other grips your waist harder, yanking your hips back to meet every slow, punishing thrust.
He spreads your fat pussylips wider with his thumbs — peeling them apart even as your legs stay squeezed tight together — exposing the glossy pink inside where his thick cock splits you open.
“Look at her stretch,” he growls, voice wrecked with how good it feels. Your plump lil’ lips puckering so tight around him… huggin’ every veiny inch like she was made for his cock. “Fuck mhng baby, you’re ruinin’ me. This pussy’s too perfect… too sloppy… too fuckin’ tight.”
He bottoms out again, harder this time, his cockhead bullying deep until you feel that familiar bulge in your lower tummy, the faint swell under his palm when he presses down. Your clit rubbed raw against the underside of his shaft — trapped and throbbing — every drag sending fresh sparks through your overstimulated nerves until your thighs shake uncontrollably.
Toji didn’t speed up. Didn’t rush. Just kept that slow, deep pace — drawing back until only the fat tip stretched your entrance, then sinking all the way in with one long, filthy glide. Each pull-out made your pussy squelch louder — cream frothing white at his base, dripping in thick ropes — each push-in forcing more of your gooey slick to bubble out around him, coating his balls, soaking your ass cheeks, turning everything into a warm, sticky mess.
“God mhm feel that?” he rasps, leaning down to nip the shell of your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “How your pussy’s clenchin’ every time I try to pull out? Squeezin’ like she doesn't ever wanna be empty. My good girl… my perfect, drippin’ girl. Takin’ this thick cock so deep… makin’ such cute, nasty noises for me.”
His hands tighten on your waist — using you like he owns you — pulling your hips back to meet every slow, punishing thrust while he grounds deeper, letting the fat crown drag over that spongy spot inside until your cries turn hoarse and wrecked.
Your stuffed bear was crushed against your chest now, your fingers white-knuckled and face buried so deep in the mattress you could barely breathe around the drool and tears.
He spat again, a thick glob landing right where you were stretched widest around him — watching it slide in, mixing with the mess until everything was even slicker and messier.
“Not stoppin’,” he promises, voice low and filthy-sweet. “Gonna keep fuckin’ this little pussy… till she’s cryin’ and cumin’ again. Till you’re so full of my cum you can’t move, doll Till every time I pull out you’re squirtin’ that syrup-thick cream all over me.”
One more long, slow drag out and your pussy noisily protests with wet, lewd squelches, then he sinks back in deep, bottoming out with a wet slap that made your ass jiggle, clit grind hard against him, walls fluttering wild around every thick, veined inch of his.
“Haah…fuck t-there’s my girl,” he groans, kissing the back of your neck soft and filthy. “Takin’ it so good… makin’ me lose my fuckin’ mind. Gonna keep usin’ you just like this… slow… aah… till you’re nothin’ but a creamy, shakin’ mess for me.”
And he did, he kept that torturous rhythm, his hands bruising your waist, cock stretching your sloppy hole wide, foreskin bunched… slick, spit and cream mixing into the nastiest mess while you clutch your stuffed toy for dear life, sobbing his name into the mattress, pussy clenching greedily and wrecked around his thick cock that owned you completely.
Toji’s hips stayed buried deep, his thick cock throbbing hot and heavy inside your stuffed pussy, every veiny inch hugged so tight by your gummy walls that pulling out even an inch felt like fighting gravity. But he didn’t need to thrust right now.
Not when he had you exactly where he wanted; face-down, ass-up on the edge of your bed, legs squeezed shut, chubby pussy lips puckered and swollen around the base of his shaft like a glossy, creamy ring.
Your pretty little hole was still fluttering around him — suckling greedily on every ridge, even after the last brutal orgasm ripped through you, leaving your thighs trembling and slick dripping in slow, syrupy ropes down the insides of your legs.
He leaned over you, his broad chest pressing hot to your back, sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, until his scarred lips brushed the shell of your ear.
One big hand stayed clamped on your soft waist, fingers digging possessive bruises into plush flesh, while the other slid down between your squeezed-together thighs.
Rough callused fingertips found your puffed-out clit immediately — swollen, fat and glossy from all the rubbing, peeking out from between those mushed puffy lips like a needy little button begging for more.
“Fuck haah… look at this messy thing,” voice low and wrecked with hunger. “So puffed up… so gooey and sappy from comin’ all over my cock. Can’t even hide how bad she wants it.”
His fingers started moving in filthy, lazy circles right over your swollen bud. Not fast. Not rough. Just slow, perfect rubs that made your clit jump and throb under the pad of his middle finger.
He smeared your own thick cream around it — mixing it with the frothy white ring still clinging to his base — making every glide slicker, hotter, nastier. Your pussy clenched hard around his buried cock in response — walls fluttering wild, milking him greedy even though he wasn’t moving yet.
You whimper high, the broken sound muffled into the stuffed bear you were still clutching like it could save you from how good it felt. Drool soaked the plush's fur, tears streaking hot down your cheeks, whole body shaking as those filthy circles kept coming — round n’ round, a slow pressure that built the ache back up fast.
“Haah… m’can’t stop touchin’ you, baby,” he groaned against your neck, nipping the soft skin where he’d already left dark bruises. “Even if I tried… fuck, this little clit’s too perfect. So fat and slippery… jumpin’ every time I rub right here.”
He pressed firmer, his middle finger circling tighter now, thumb hooking under to spread your puffy lips just enough to expose more of that sensitive pearl.
The motion dragging his cock the tiniest bit inside you — barely a rock, just enough to let the fat crown nudge your spongy spot while his fingers worked your clit relentlessly. Fresh slick gushed out around him, thick and syrupy — coating his hand, dripping down his wrist in warm rivulets that soaked into the sheets.
Your hips bucked back helplessly, your ass jiggling against his pelvis, trying to grind into his touch even as your pussy clenched tighter around the thick intrusion splitting you open.
Every filthy circle sent sparks shooting straight up your spine, your clit throbbed so hard it hurt in the sweetest way, walls spasming around his cock like they were trying to pull him even deeper.
“Goddamn…ya feel that?” he murmured, voice thick with praise and filth. “How your cunt ’s grippin’ me every time I rub this pretty clit? Squeezin’ like she’s beggin’ for more even though she’s already stuffed full. My good girl… my perfect, drippin’ mess. Look how she’s leakin’ just from my fingers. So fuckin’ sensitive.”
He sped up just a fraction, circles turning tighter, faster. The pad of his finger flicking quick over the swollen tip of your clit before smoothing back into those slow, filthy loops.
Your cries turned desperate, hoarse and wrecked, sobs muffled into the bear as your thighs shook harder, pussy fluttering wild around his cock. Thick cream bubbled out with every clench — frothing white at his base, dripping in sticky strands that clung to his heavy balls.
Toji groaned deep and feral, his hips finally rocking once, a slow, deep grind that dragged every veined inch along your gummy walls while his fingers never stopped. The dual sensation punched the air out of your lungs, clit rubbed raw and throbbing, cunt stretched wide and filled to the brim.
“Can’t get enough of touchin’ you,” he confessed, voice breaking with how wrecked he was. “This puffed-out little clit… so gooey and sappy… jumpin’ under my fingers like it’s alive. Fuck…baby, you’re gonna come again just like this. Gonna make this fat pussy squirt all over my hand while I’m still buried balls-deep.”
He pinched your clit gently, rolling it between thumb and finger, then went right back to those filthy circles, smearing more of your cream around the swollen bud until it glistened obscene under the fairy lights. Your whole body seized, your back arching hard, ass pressing back desperately against him, your narrow walls clamping down like a vice around his thick cock.
“That’s it ahh…come for me again,” he praised, lips brushing your ear, breath hot and ragged. “Let me feel this pussy milk me while I rub this pretty clit raw. My sweet girl… my filthy, pretty girl… gush for me, baby. Show me how much you love it when I can’t stop touchin’ you.”
One more tight, filthy circle pressed hard right over the tip and you shatter.
Whole body convulsing, pussy clamping down brutally around his cock, walls fluttering wild as thick spurts of slick squirted out around him, hot and messy — soaking his hand, drenching his thighs, pooling warm under your ass on the already wrecked sheets.
Your clit throbbed helplessly under his fingers, overstimulated and raw, sending aftershock after aftershock ripping through you until your legs gave out completely.
Toji didn’t pull his hand away. Just kept those slow, soothing circles, gentler now — petting your puffed-out clit through the tremors while his cock stays buried deep, throbbing hard inside your fluttering, creamy cunt.
“Haah…fuck…there’s my girl,” he sighs, kissing the back of your neck soft and filthy. “Comin’ so hard just from my fingers… makin’ such a cute, sloppy mess. Can’t stop touchin’ you, baby. Not when this little clit’s still jumpin’ for me… not when your pussy’s still grippin’ me like she never wants me to stop.”
He rocked once, letting you feel every thick inch while his fingers kept circling lazy, keeping you right on that overstimulated edge.
“Gonna keep goin’,” he promises, voice low and wrecked with adoration. “Gonna keep rubbin’ this pretty clit… keep fuckin’ you slow… till you’re cryin’ and squirting again. Till you’re nothin’ but a shakin’, creamy mess for me. My perfect girl… my filthy little thing… all mine.”
And he did, his fingers never stopping those filthy circles, cock grinding deep and slow, turning you into a drooling, trembling puddle while your stuffed bear stayed clutched tight in your shaking hands, soaked with tears and drool and the endless proof of how good he made you feel.
Toji’s cock was buried to the hilt, his thick-veined base flush against your swollen puffy lips, heavy balls pressed hot to your clit like they belonged there. Your little fat pussy was stretched obscene around him, your gummy walls parted wide, clinging desperate to every ridged inch like they’d forgotten how to close.
You were gaped already, your poor hole fluttering open every time he stayed still too long, the rim puffy and flushed dark pink, glistening with thick layers of your syrupy cream and his endless pre. Slick dripping steady from where you were joined, slow, sticky ropes that clung to his shaft, webbing down to his balls, pooling warm under your ass on the wrecked sheets.
Shaking, your whole body trembling, face still mashed into the mattress, drool soaking the stuffed bear you clutched like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your cries had turned hoarse, soft and wrecked whimpering every time his cock throbbed deep inside, nudging that spongy spot that made your toes curl and your tummy quiver.
He groans low, the sound ripping from his chest like it hurt to feel how tight you still were even after all the pounding, big scarred hands gripped your soft waist harder, his fingers sinking into plush flesh, holding you exactly where he wanted while he started to pull out.
Slow.
Agonizingly slow.
The drag was filthy, every veined inch sliding free with wet, obscene schlicks that filled the room. Your pussy lips dragged along his shaft, puffy and glossy, clinging greedily like they didn’t want to let go. The fat pink crown caught on your rim, stretching it wider one last time before popping free with a lewd, sucking pop.
Your hole gaped open immediately, pink and wrecked, fluttering helplessly around nothing, thick strings of cream stretching from your entrance to his dripping tip like obscene bridges before snapping wet against your inner thighs.
“Haah…fuck…look at that,” he said disbelieving,“This little hole’s gaped so pretty for me… still clenchin’ like she’s missin’ me already. So fuckin’ sloppy, baby. Drippin’ everywhere just ‘cause I pulled out.”
You whimpered, hips twitching back instinctively, chasing the emptiness even as your walls fluttered wild. But Toji wasn’t done teasing.
He lined up again, the fat tip nudging your gaping entrance, smearing thick pre over the stretched rim, then he pushed.
Deeper.
Harder.
One long, brutal glide that sank every thick inch back inside until his hips slapped flush against your ass, cockhead bullying past your cervix, stirring your guts up in that dizzying, overwhelming way that made your eyes roll back.
You felt him everywhere. Hot, heavy fullness stretching from your stuffed hole all the way up like he was rearranging you from the inside. Your tummy bulged faintly under his palm when he pressed down, feeling the outline of his cock moving deep, claiming every inch of your soft insides.
“Fuuuck…there it is,” he growled, hips grinding slow circles now, letting you feel him throb against your deepest walls. “Feel me in your throat, sweetheart? Stirrin’ up your guts… makin’ this pretty pussy taking me so deep she’s cryin’. My good girl… my perfect, stretched-out girl.”
Your cries turning guttural and raw, sounds muffled into the bear as he starts thrusting again, long punishing strokes that pull almost all the way out every time, only to slam back in deeper, harder, stirring your insides into a gooey, creamy mess. Slick squirting out with every pull-back, thick and white-frothed, coating his shaft, dripping down your thighs in warm rivers that soaked everything beneath you.
Then his thick thumb found your tight puckered asshole.
He didn’t ask…Didn’t tease.
Just pressed the blunt pad right against your clenched ring — hot, callused pressure that made your whole body jolt. Your hole fluttering instinctive, tight and untouched, trying to push him out even as your pussy clenched harder around his pounding cock.
“Shhh…relax for me, baby,” he murmured, voice low and filthy-sweet against your ear. ‘m'gonna plug this pretty little hole too. Keep you so full… till you’re shakin’ and sobbin’ for me.”
He pushes in so…so carefully, his thick thumb breaching the tight ring with a soft pop. The stretch burning sweet… the foreign fullness made your back arch hard, ass pushing back desperately onto both intrusions. Your asshole clamping down greedily around his thumb, sucking him into the first knuckle, while your pussy flutters wildly around his thick cock, walls spasming so hard it milks another thick spurt of pre deep inside you.
“Haah…fuck y-yeah,” he groans, thumb sinking deeper, and a slow twist of his thumb... has your hole clenching and fluttering around him. “Takin’ my thumb so good… tight little ass huggin’ me just like your pussy. Feel that? Both holes ngh stuffed f-full”… his cock stirrin’ your guts, thumb pluggin’ up your pretty asshole. “You’re mine, baby. All fuckin’ mine.”
He starts moving — thumb rocking shallow in time with his deep thrusts, cock slamming home every time his thumb pushes in, pulling out together in a filthy rhythm that makes your whole body rock forward into the mattress. Your clit rubbed raw against the sheets now — trapped and throbbing — every grind sending fresh sparks through your overstimulated nerves until tears streamed hot down your cheeks.
Your cries were nonstop, hoarse, wrecked sobs into your stuffed bear, your body trembling violently as he fucked you deeper, thumb plugging your ass, cock stretching your gaped pussy wide. Slick gushing with every thrust, thick, creamy ropes squirting out around his base, soaking his hand where it worked your plugged hole, drenching the bed in a warm, sticky puddle.
“God…look at you,” he praised, voice breaking with how close he was. “Takin’ everything… Such a good girl… my girl. Gonna make you come like this… gonna feel you milk me till I’m pumpin’ you full.”
He ground deeper, thumb twisting slow inside your tight ass, bulbous cockhead bullying your cervix, stirring everything up until the pressure coiled unbearable in your belly.
“Come for me, baby.” he says softly, lips brushing your tear-streaked cheek gently.
One more deep, brutal thrust, thumb sinking to the base, cock slamming home fully and you shattered.
Whole body convulsing, pussy clamping like a vice around his thick shaft, asshole fluttering wild around his thumb, clit throbbing helpless against the friction. Thick spurts of slick squirts out around him — hot and messy — soaking everything as you scream his name into the bear, tears and drool mixing on the sheets.
Toji goes all breathless, hips stuttering as your walls milked him ruthlessly.
“Fuck...yeah…take it, baby,” he pants, grinding deep through your orgasm. “Gonna come… gonna fill this pretty little cunt… gonna plug you so full you’ll feel me for days.”
And with one last deep thrust, thumb buried in your ass, cock throbbing hot and heavy inside your stuffed, creamy hole he starts to spill. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your gummed walls — pulse after pulse — stirring your insides even more as he keeps grinding slow, keeping you plugged front and back while you shook and sobbed and came undone completely around him.
And Toji Zenin still wasn’t done touching you.
Not by a long shot.
Toji finally eased his thumb out of your twitching little asshole, slow and careful, letting the tight ring flutter shut with a soft, wet sound that made your whole body shiver one last time. His cock slipped free next, his thick length dragging along your ruined walls until the fat crown popped out with a lewd, sucking pop.
A hot gush of cum followed immediately, thick, creamy ropes spilling from your gaping pussy in slow, obscene waves, dripping down your inner thighs, pooling sticky and warm beneath your ass on the already-soaked sheets.
You were trembling, completely spent, limbs heavy and breath coming in shaky little pants, face still buried halfway into the rumpled comforter with drool stringing from the corner of your swollen lips. Your stuffed bear was crushed, forgotten against your chest, fur matted and damp from tears and spit and everything else.
Toji didn’t move away.
He rolled you gently, almost tenderly — onto your back, big scarred hands sliding under your soft thighs and waist to lift you like you weighed nothing. He settled between your spread legs again, kneeling tall over you, sweat-glistening chest heaving while he looked down at the absolute mess he’d made of his pretty girl.
Your pussy was wrecked, lips puffy and dark, gaping open just enough to show the creamy white mess inside, clit still swollen and flushed, twitching with aftershocks. Cum leaked out in lazy pulses, mixing with your own slick, running in glossy trails down your perineum.
But his eyes softened when they reached your face.
All tear-streaked cheeks, glassy eyes, puffy lips still shining with spit.
“My pretty girl,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked but so fucking gentle now it made your chest ache.
He leaned down slow, his big heated body blanketing yours without crushing you and cups your face in both rough palms. Thumbs brushed away the fresh tears clinging to your lashes, smearing them gently across your flushed skin.
Toji didn’t pull out.
Not even a little.
He stayed buried to the root, his thick, heavy cock throbbing slow and deep inside your stuffed cunt, every veiny inch hugged so tight by your gummy walls it felt like your pussy had forgotten how to exist without him filling it. The fat pink crown was pressed right up against your cervix — hot, insistent pressure that made your tummy flutter every time his heartbeat pulsed through the shaft.
Cum was already leaking — thick, sticky ropes of it flooding your insides from the last brutal spill, so much that you could feel the warm, syrupy weight of it pooling deep in your guts, pressing against your walls like liquid heat.
Your poor hole was gaped just enough around his base, puffy lips stretched thin and glossy, clinging desperate to the thickest part of him like they were scared he’d slip free. But he wasn’t going anywhere, he just held you there, his hips flush to your ass, one big scarred hand splayed wide over your soft tummy so he could feel the faint swell where his cock and all that cum was making you bulge ever so slightly from the inside.
“Shhh… just like this, sweetheart,” he murmured low against the back of your neck, lips brushing damp skin in soft, lazy kisses. “Just cock warming. No more fuckin’ right now. Gonna let this pretty pussy soak in every drop I gave her… keep her nice and full, yeah?”
You whimpered — soft, a wrecked little sound muffled into the stuffed bear still clutched tight to your chest. Your whole body was trembling, overstimulated, oversensitive, thighs quivering where they were still squeezed shut and held down beneath his weight.
Slick and cum mixed into a warm, sticky mess between you, dripping slowly out around his base in thick, pearly strands that clung to your inner thighs, soaking the sheets in a warm puddle that smelled like sex and him and you all tangled together.
He shifted then, just a tiny rock of his hips, not thrusting, just enough to let his cock stir the cum inside you. The movement made a wet, filthy squelch, your walls fluttering greedy around him, milking another thick bead of leftover seed that oozed deeper into your guts.
You felt it, hot and slippery coating every inch of your gummy insides, threatening to drool out if he moved too much, but he didn’t. He just held you closer — arm banding around your waist, palm pressing firmer over that soft little bulge in your tummy like he was proud of how full he’d made you.
“Look how cute you are,” he whispered, voice rough and tender all at once. “Face all flushed… droolin’ on your lil’ bear… pussy so full of my cum she’s practically purring. My pretty girl… my perfect girl.”
He turned your face gently with scarred fingers under your chin, tilting you just enough so he could lean over your shoulder and kiss you slow. Soft at first — scarred lips brushing yours, tasting the salt of your tears and the cherry gloss long smeared away. Then deeper, tongue sliding lazy against yours, swallowing every tiny whimper you gave him while his cock stayed perfectly still inside you, just throbbing, just warming, just owning.
You moaned into his mouth, a soft and needy sound as another warm trickle of cum leaked out around his base, sliding slow down your puffy lips. Your clit still swollen and achy, brushed the underside of his shaft with every tiny shift, sending little aftershocks through your core that made your walls flutter and clench around him again.
“Haah…fuck — there she goes,” he groaned against your lips, kissing you deeper, filthier. “Clenchin’ so sweet even when she’s just holdin’ me. Feel all that cum sloshin’ around inside you? So warm… so sticky… gonna keep it all plugged up in there till it’s leakin’ out slow outta you.”
His free hand slid up and cupped the side of your face, thumb stroking slow over your tear-streaked cheek while he kissed you again and again. Forehead pressed to yours now, breath mingling hot and ragged, his green eyes dark and soft as he stared down at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“You’re so fuckin’ cute like this,” he murmured, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead — lingering, reverent. “All hugged up on my cock… pussy threatenin’ to drool my cum everywhere but still grippin’ me so tight. My good girl… my sweet, stuffed girl. Just stay like this for me, yeah? Let me keep you warm… let me feel how full I made you.”
He rocked once, barely a movement, just a slow grind that stirred the thick load inside you without pulling out. More cum bubbled out hot and slippery coating your puffy lips, dripping slow down to where your clit throbbed against him. You whimpered high and broken — hips twitching instinctively even though you were too spent to chase anything.
Toji shushed you gently, lips brushing your temple, your cheek, your mouth again in soft, endless kisses.
“Just this. Just me inside you… keepin’ all that cum nice and warm where it belongs. My pretty girl… my perfect little thing… all hugged up and full for me.”
He wrapped both arms around you then, pulling your soft body back flush to his chest, cock still buried deep, still throbbing slow, still leaking the last drops into your stuffed, creamy pussy. Forehead kisses rained down, soft, sweet and lazy in the best way, while he held you close, letting you feel every heartbeat through his shaft, every warm pulse of cum settling deeper inside you.
“Stay just like this,” he whispered one last time, lips lingering on your forehead. “My cute, sweet girl… mine.”
And he didn’t move.
Just held you there — thick cock warming your poor, gaped, cum-stuffed pussy while you trembled and whimpered and clung to your bear, face buried in his neck, soaking in the sticky, overwhelming heat of being so perfectly, completely full of him.
Toji’s arms locked around your waist like steel bands, scarred hands splaying wide over the soft curve of your lower belly, fingers digging in just enough to bruise the plush skin as he yanked you down hard, with no warning. No slow descent. Just raw, possessive force that slammed your dripping pussy all the way onto his thick, throbbing cock in one brutal, claiming drop.
The stretch hit like lightning — your poor gaped hole, forced to swallow every last veiny inch at once, walls parting wide around the fattened girth until his heavy balls slapped wet against your clit and the fat pink crown punched right up against the deepest part of your cervix again.
You felt it everywhere — hot, overwhelming fullness stretching from your stuffed entrance all the way up into your guts, making your tummy bulge visibly under his palm where he pressed down firmly to feel himself buried inside you.
“Haah…f-fuck — there it is,” he growled low against the shell of your ear, voice wrecked and deep, breath scorching your neck. “Takin’ every thick fuckin’ inch, sweetheart. All of it. No more teasin’. Just my cock stuffed deep where it belongs.”
Your cry ripped out raw and broken — high, desperate wails muffled into the crook of his shoulder as your body jolted from the sudden depth. Your gummy walls fluttered wild around him, clenching helpless. Spasming like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to push him out or suck him deeper.
Slick and leftover cum from before gushed out around his base in thick, creamy ropes,frothing white at the stretch, dripping slow down his heavy sack in warm, sticky trails that soaked into the sheets beneath you both.
He didn’t let you adjust. Just held you there, impaled, trembling, your pussy clenching greedily around the full length of him — while one hand slid up to fist in your hair, yanking your head back gently but firm so he could see your face.
Tears streaked hot down your cheeks, lips swollen and parted in endless soft whimpers, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth again like you’d forgotten how to swallow.
“Look at you,” he says proudly, green eyes dark and blown with hunger as he stared down at where your puffy lips were stretched thin and glossy around his base — clinging so tight the rim looked almost white-knuckled. “My pretty girl takin’ everything… pussy so full she’s shakin’. Feel that? Feel how deep I am?” His cockhead kissin’ your womb and stirrin’ up all that cum he already pumped in you.
He rocked his hips once, a slow grinding roll that dragged every ridge along your fluttering walls without pulling out. The motion made a wet, filthy squelch, your stuffed pussy protesting the fullness even as it clenched harder, milking him greedy. More thick cream bubbled out — syrupy and white — coating his shaft, dripping down to where your clit throbbed helpless against the veined underside.
“Nngh…Toji —” Your voice cracked,hoarse and wrecked, nails raking down his broad back again, leaving red trails over hard muscle. “S’too much… s’too deep —”
“Shhh, I know, baby,” he murmured, scarred lips brushing your tear-streaked cheek in soft, filthy kisses. “Doin’ so good though. Takin’ this fat cock like you were made for it. Feel how your pussy’s grippin’ me? Squeezin’ like she don’t ever wanna let go. My perfect girl… my sweet girl.”
He pulled you down harder, another sharp yank that seated him impossibly deeper, crown bullying against that spongy spot inside until your back bowed, thighs trembling violently around his hips. Your clit grinding raw against his pelvis — swollen and achy — every tiny shift sending sparks shooting through your core that made your walls flutter and clench harder around him.
Toji groaned deep, the guttural sound vibrating straight through you, then wrapped both arms around your waist, crushing your soft body to his chest. One hand slid down to cup your ass, fingers spreading the plush cheeks wide so he could feel where you were stretched obscene around him, while the other pressed firm over that faint bulge in your tummy, thumb stroking slow circles over the spot where he could feel himself moving inside.
“Fuck…look at this,” he breathed, voice thick with praise and filth. “My cock makin’ a pretty little bump right here… fillin’ you up so good you can see it. Gonna keep you right here… just like this”… Cock-warmin’ you deep while he kisses your sweet mouth.
He tilted your chin up, scarred thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip, then claimed your mouth in a slow, filthy kiss. Tongue sliding deep, tasting the salt of your tears and the cherry gloss long gone, swallowing every broken whimper you gave him while his cock throbbed hot and heavy inside your stuffed pussy.
No thrusting. Just deep, possessive grinding — tiny rolls of his hips that stirred the thick load of cum already flooding your cunt, making it slosh warm and sticky against your walls.
You moaned into his mouth, soft needy sounds, as another warm trickle leaked out around his base, sliding slow down your puffy lips to where your clit pulsed against him. Your pussy clenching helpless and fluttering wild — threatening to drool more of that creamy mess if he moved even a little, but he didn’t. Just held you impaled, full, trembling, while he kissed you deeper, tongue fucking slow into your mouth in the same lazy rhythm his cock was grinding inside you.
“So fuckin’ cute,” he whispers against your lips between kisses, forehead pressing to yours, breath mingling hot and ragged. “All hugged up on my dick… pussy so full she’s shakin’. My pretty girl… my perfect little thing… takin’ everything I give her. Gonna stay just like this… keep you warm and stuffed… let you feel everything while I kiss you stupid.”
Wanting to feel you constantly, he kept pressing soft kisses to your forehead, then your temple, to your cheek and your mouth again — endless, filthy affection while his arms stayed locked around you, cock buried to the hilt, cum sloshing warm and sticky deep inside your gaped, creamy pussy.
“Mine,” he murmured one last time, lips brushing your forehead in a final, claiming kiss. “All fuckin’ mine.”
And he didn’t move.
Just held you there, thick cock warming your stuffed, trembling pussy, while you whimpered and clung and soaked in the overwhelming heat of being so completely, perfectly taken.
The room had gone quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan stirring the thick summer air, fairy lights flickering lazy gold across the rumpled sheets like dying embers. You were out cold — completely fucked-out and boneless, face half-buried in the crook of Toji’s neck, one arm slung loose over his chest, legs still tangled with his like you couldn’t bear to let go even in sleep.
Your breathing had evened out into those slow, deep little puffs that made your lips part every exhale, drool already pooling at the corner of your mouth onto his collarbone. Cute. Wrecked. His.
Toji hadn’t moved much since he’d pulled you down onto every thick inch and held you there, his cock still buried deep, warming your cum-stuffed pussy while the last pulses of his cum settled heavy and hot inside you.
Your walls kept fluttering around him in tiny, sleepy spasms — soft little squeezes that milked another lazy bead of seed from his tip even though he wasn’t thrusting anymore.
The mess between you was obscene; thick ropes of cum and your syrupy cream leaking slow out around his base, coating his heavy balls, dripping in warm, sticky trails down your inner thighs and soaking the sheets beneath your ass in a cooling puddle that smelled like sex and salt and him.
He stayed like that for a long while, his arm banded around your waist, scarred palm resting possessive over the faint swell in your lower tummy where his cock and all that cum made you bulge just enough to feel under his hand.
Every time you shifted in your sleep, tiny and little unconscious rolls of your hips, your pussy clenched tighter around him, gummy walls sucking greedy like even unconscious you didn’t want him to leave. It made his cock twitch — still half-hard, still leaking the last sluggish drops into your overflowing heat.
Eventually the ache in his thighs and the way your breathing had gone soft and even, told him you were really gone, deep in that post-orgasm haze where nothing existed but warmth and fullness and him.
Toji exhaled slowly through his nose, a low satisfied rumble in his chest, then started to move.
Careful. So fucking careful.
He slid one big hand under your thigh, lifting it just enough to ease the angle, while the other stayed splayed over your tummy, thumb stroking slow circles over that soft pudge like he was soothing you even in your sleep. Then he pulled.
Slow…
Inch by torturous inch.
The drag was filthy, your poor gaped hole clinging desperate to every veiny ridge as he withdrew, gummy walls fluttering weak protests around the retreating thickness. Slick and cum made obscene wet sounds, soft schlicks and squelches that filled the quiet room, thick white cream bubbling out around his shaft the second he started to slip free.
Strings of it stretched taut between your puffy lips and his glistening cockhead — snapping slow and wet against your inner thighs as he kept pulling.
When the fat pink crown finally popped free with a lewd, sucking pop, your hole gaped open, pink and wrecked, fluttering helpless around nothing. A thick gush of cum followed immediately — hot, sticky ropes drooling slow out of your stretched entrance, sliding down your ass crack in pearly trails, pooling warm under you on the already soaked sheets. Your clit, still swollen and flushed, twitched once at the sudden emptiness, a tiny bead of cream clinging to the tip like a pearl.
Toji stared, breath catching rough in his throat at the sight of his cum leaking from your used little pussy. So much of it. Thick and white and endless, proof of how deep he’d fucked you, how full he’d kept you. Your pussy looked ruined in the prettiest way — lips puffy and parted, hole still trying to clench shut but too stretched to close completely, just drooling his load in slow, obscene pulses.
“Fuck,” he breathed voice low, wrecked, almost reverent. Toji finally took a long inhale, eyes locked on the sight. His pretty girl’s pussy all sloppy and leaking his cum like she couldn’t help it even asleep. Fuck… it made his cock twitch soft against his thigh, already half-interested again for just looking.
He leaned down slow and carefully…not to jostle you too much, breath fanning hot over your sensitive skin and pressed the softest, filthiest kiss right to your swollen clit. Gentle. Worshipful.
Lips barely brushing the swollen bud…a warm, lingering press that made your hips twitch tiny in sleep, a soft whimper slipping from your throat. He kissed it again…slower, tongue flicking out just once to taste the mix of your cream and his cum still clinging there. Salty-sweet messy and perfect.
“My pretty girl,” he whispered against your pussy, voice so low it was more breath than sound. “Took me so deep… kept me warm all night. Look at you leakin’ my cum even when you’re sleepin’. So fuckin’ cute.”
Scarred lips brushing the sensitive bud, gentle and lingering, his tongue flicking out once to taste the mix of your cream and his cum clinging there. You whimpered in your sleep, a soft, needy little sound. Your hips twitched forward instinctively even when unconscious, thighs trembling once before settling again.
One more kiss, open-mouthed this time…lips sealing soft around your clit for a heartbeat, sucking the tiniest pull that made your thighs tremble before he let go.
Toji smiled against your pussy…slow, dangerous and so fucking tender, then kissed higher; one soft press to your puffy mound, another to the soft dip of your lower belly where the bulge was slowly fading.
“Fuck… gotta move, baby,” he rasped, voice gravel-thick with leftover lust and something softer underneath. “Your dad’s gonna be home soon. Can’t leave you lookin’ like this… all fucked-out and leakin’ me everywhere.”
He didn’t let you wallow in it.
He moved careful, almost gentle, sliding off you and scooping your limp, trembling body into his arms like you weighed nothing. Your legs dangled uselessly; your head lolled against his shoulder; your ruined pussy leaked a slow, sticky trail down his abs as he carried you to the tiny attached bathroom.
He set you on the edge of the tub softly with utter care, then ran warm water over a clean washcloth. No rough scrubbing. Just slow, careful wipes, dabbing away the cum and slick smeared across your inner thighs, between your ass cheeks, over your swollen mound. He was thorough, gentle thumbs parting your puffy lips just enough to clean the creamy mess still oozing from your gaping hole, wiping slow circles around your clit until you whimpered and twitched.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing your forehead while he worked. “Gotta get you all clean… can’t have you drippin’ all over the place when your dad walks in.”
When you were as clean as he could get you, skin still flushed and sensitive, pussy still puffy and tender, he carried you back to the bed. He stripped the worst of the soaked sheets (bundling them into a ball to deal with later), flipped the comforter over the damp spot, and tucked you in slowly, pulling the soft blanket up to your chin, smoothing it over your trembling body like you were something precious.
He knelt beside the bed for a long minute, just watching you, then leaned down and pressed a final, lingering kiss to your swollen lips. Slow. Drooly. Tongue brushing yours one last time like he was memorizing the taste.
He pulled the rumpled sheet up over your body, tucking it around your shoulders gentle and careful, like you were something precious he didn’t want to break even though he’d just spent hours fucking you… making sure your shoulders were covered, your bare feet hidden under the blanket.
He smoothed a hand over your soft tummy, feeling the faint bloat still there from how full he’d left you and then leaned down to kiss your forehead too. Long, tender press of scarred lips.
“My good girl,” he whispered against your mouth, forehead resting against yours. “Took me so fuckin’ well… let me ruin you so pretty… now sleep, yeah? I’ll handle the rest. You just stay tucked in and dream about how full I made you.”
He kissed your forehead again, soft and possessive, then stood.
You watched through heavy lids as he pulled on his sweatpants (still stained, still smelling like sex), grabbed the bundled sheets, and slipped out the door quiet as a shadow.
The room smelled like him.
Like cum and sweat and summer heat.
Your pussy still ached, emptier… now but throbbing with the memory of how thick he’d been, how deep, how much he’d filled you.
You curled tighter under the blanket, legs pressing together to keep the lingering warmth inside and drifted.
ಇ.author's note: reupload from @/torusbabe
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When the group chat arguing and bro starts messaging you privately
under your spell 🗝
The Victorian-style house looked a bit creepy, but rather cute. Very pinkish. Perfectly serene for your remote job and longing for silence. And everything would be wonderful if not for this little weird doll that looks like you and a small door in the living room, leading to... nowhere? And what about those two guys who lived here sixty years ago?
˖𖦹 ݁˖ pairing: Satosugu x Reader
˖𖦹 ݁˖ content/warnigs: ꒰ Coraline AU :: yandere :: stalking :: Satoru and Suguru have buttons for eyes :: they desperately want you to stay :: horror :: hope it will be a bit creepy :: obsessive behaviours :: possessive behaviour :: dark romance :: heavy smut :: manipulation :: death :: demons :: use of some Coraline conspiracy theories ꒱
˖𖦹 ݁˖ notes: The first chapter will be posted on June 22! And on that day I will also post my main summerween, slasher collection <3
Taglist for this mini series is open! Just let me know in the comments ˖𖦹 ݁˖
──── do you wish to open the door? 🗝
˖𖦹 ݁˖ chapter one ˖𖦹 ݁˖ chapter four
˖𖦹 ݁˖ chapter two ˖𖦹 ݁˖ chapter five
˖𖦹 ݁˖ chapter three
©liahcharms all rights reserved. Do not copy, plagiarise, feed AI, translate or modify my works.
My dearest townsfolk! You have no idea how excited I am for this series! It is a part of my Summerween collection, but since my main collection focuses on slashers, I decided to post the Coraline separately!
art by by K05062688 - twitter button divider by @saradika-graphics
on my way
she's my collar
God of the Dead was always alone. With the coldness weighing his heart and the stench of gastly doom clinging to his skin. But then, one day, the world under his feet shifted. Heart bloomed with bizarre fondness. And the Lord of the Underworld soon started to wish for nothing but to taste Spring Goddess's sweetness every single day. Even if he were to accomplish it by force.
requ ested (pray forgive me for waiting so long)
included in Tales, Myths, Romances
pairings: Hades!Trueform Sukuna x Persephone!Reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, greek mythology au, mythologically accurate, possessive behaviour, slightly dark romance, kidnapping, devotion, obsession, heavy smut, Sukuna is his own warning, proper use of belly mouth, double penetration, belly bulges, mating press, oral sex (both), facesitting, yearning, symbolism, Cerberus is just a baby, pussydrunk Sukuna, he's down bad, but he's also toxic
WC: 13.7k (the visions have plagued me)
a/n: I think we all know the story of Hades and Persephone, so this time there's no need for a history lesson! I just hope you'll like it because I had lots of fun writing it! And thank you, dearest anons, for the request <3
divider by @/diviniye art by @/phantomosis on x
It was a universal truth that opposites attract.
Knowledge older than the Gods themselves.
Carved in marble and rivers, bending under the Greek sun in crystal serpentine. Crossing the lands, fields and meadows, with single droplets caressed by nymphs and fair birdies playing in the calm waters.
Everyone knew that opposites work together.
Everyone could look up and see the sun and the moon frolicking in the same sky. Brush their feet against the hard, stony paths covering the mountains, and yet see little snippets of flowers breaking through the surface. To experience sadness and joy, two contradictory feelings, yet impossible to exist without each other.
Everyone could enjoy the sharp breeze from the thunderstorms, preceded by the sizzling warmth coating their sweating skin.
Everyone knew the night had no meaning without a day. That spring couldn't exist without a death.
Everyone knew it.
Or did they?
Or was it maybe something that one, love-possessed God simply wished to believe in? That opposites could attract even in the most impossible-to-imagine scenarios.
It's not that the Gods of Olympus weren't paired in a rather bizarre manner. For there was a beauty of Aphrodite who cherished the brute God of War dearly. Zeus and Hera, so different and yet ruling over the divine world. And also Dionysus, who haunted by love towards a mortal, made her a goddess.
And yet, Lord Hades couldn't shake off the feeling that his love was plagued by a tragedy from the very beginning.
As how could it be that the Lord of the Underworld's heart, after thousands of years of being burdened by coldness, suddenly bloomed with restless warmth?
With a feeling so unknown and strange, his hand rested on his chest as if in desire to breeze the burning skin up. Long fingers tried to grab the muscle and tear the rosy flesh that separated him from it. But even the God of Death couldn't stop the lovely beating of his heart and mind tormented solely by a thought of… you.
It happened on a sunny day, when, usually hidden in the depths of hell, the Lord of the Underworld decided to take a stroll. Around the spring meadows, with the air carrying the flowery scent of blooming nature. So strange and bizarre, never floating around the endless plains of his domain.
He didn't show his face often up there, as God of the Dead was much, much busier than one could think! Humans were weak, reckless, dying like flies and flooding the Underworld with their restless souls.
Heron crossed the Styx like a madman, and Cerberus couldn't close his eyes even for a second, as the hell was a mad and troubled place.
But then, that one day when the sunlight finally blessed his crimson eyes, Hades, or Sukuna as he much rather preferred, could finally pleasure himself in breathing the air not stained by a musty smell of death.
Each of his steps left the lush grass withered, and the air bent under the heaviness of his aura. Birds would fall silent whenever the God of the Dead passed through the trees they sat in, as if in fear of being taken by the Grim Reaper too soon. Fruits hanging off the branches would suddenly fall rotten, not allowing God to taste the sweetness of their pristine juices.
As there was no sweetness or warmth in Sukuna's life and it had been a long time since he learned how to live with it. For why would anyone care about the wellness of the Lord of the Underworld himself?
And so the world withered and shattered around him, but God truly didn't mind.
Until he saw you, the Goddess of Spring.
Beautiful, alive, with sun smooching your laughing cheeks and eyes curving under the golden rays. Little flowers were tucked in your hair sweetly, and single strands framed your face heartily. Sukuna enjoyed looking at blooming plants, although they quickly withered under his bloody gaze.
But not you.
You quickly became his most dearest petal, with loose, light robes always in a riot of pastel hues and lovely laughter carried by spring winds through the vast meadows. Bare feet ran through the fields of flowers without any worries, and eyes always glanced somewhere over the horizon. Somewhere, towards the seas and trees and frolic nymphs playing near the rivers. Fingers weaved wreaths one by one, and a cooing voice helped the flowers grow and blossom beautifully.
Your robes were always slightly dirty from the earth, warm cheeks marked by pollen, eyes bustling with warmth and kindness, that touched every plant, every animal that cuddled into your open arms.
He usually lurked among the trees. Tall, broody, with a massive body covered by dark robes and a grim aura clinging to his skin. Four arms crossed on a wide chest and two pairs of eyes fixated on a young Goddess frolicking with her friends.
Soon, he started coming more often.
The usual workaholic, a gloomy God who liked nothing and no one, a brute, as some liked to call him, suddenly found something that started haunting his mind. His dreams and nightmares, as even there, you always seemed to smooch his cheeks like a soft petal.
There, you always seemed to be his.
His lovely, dear wife. A Queen of the Underworld.
For all those days he watched you carefully, you've never noticed him.
Not even once, as if completely blinded to everything else outside the walls of your little world.
Until one day, you were left alone.
No friends chirping to your ear, no animals warming your legs – just you.
And, well, him.
He didn't know when and how, but a warming tiredness fell on his eyes, and oh-so-mighty God of the Death slipped into a light slumber. With withered grass lulling his heavy body and birds ogling him from the thick branches. Wind whirred quietly, brushing his pink hair, slipping between the strands and massaging tired temples.
He could almost swear that he fell asleep on the grass. Hard ground moulding under his even harder body and green tuft giggling his cheeks. And yet, after turning and squirming like a restless child, he felt something softer under his head.
Something plush, squishy, beaming with the sweetest, flowery fragrance he's ever smelled. The wind's murmur turned into a lovely hum. A melody that coiled his senses and flooded down his spine, filling his body like the sweetest wine.
He didn't dare to open his eyes.
As he knew, the sight of the lovely Goddess brushing gently through his hair would lead to his death. For Sukuna was rather sure that the only thing in this world that could truly stop his heart was the graceful look of your eyes fixed on him.
Not on flowers, not nymphs, nor animals.
Him.
And thus he lay quietly, with your thighs dipping under his head and soft fingers playing with his hair.
"The Lord of the Underworld in my spring domain," you hummed, swirling a pink strand around your finger. "What a bizarre sight, I must admit."
A chuckle slipped from between your lips when his brows furrowed. Slightly yet rather openly stating that the God of the Dead, with his colossal body bending your earth, has not, in fact, been sleeping.
But there was no need to out his silly manner, and your fingers continued soft curls around his temples. As everyone, no matter their origin, was most welcome in your domain.
Something changed around him. The air, the melody, the structure of grass.
Your presence brought life back to the withered plants and silenced animals that feared him. The birds sitting high on the branches slowly flew down, huddling shyly on his chest. Decayed grass turned lush once again, smooching his skin with its plushness.
"There's no need for fear," you whispered warmly, seeing how wary the animals were of his presence. "He is a good creature too."
Forest animals started to come closer, and closer, and closer, with deer sniffing his body and frogs clumping on his shoulders. Their little, sticky toes left traces of gluey slime, but he didn't mind.
Because God of the Dead rarely felt a life embrace his body.
And thus he decided to cherish it and pray that this single, intimate moment would last forever. With your thighs beaming warmth under his head and animals cuddling to his limbs. Surrounding him in a tight circle with furs and feathers tickling his skin.
He couldn't open his eyes, to not destroy the moment, although, heavens, he truly wished!
To see your hearty face up close. To brush the lower lip coloured with fresh berries and tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear. To see the way pastel robes clung to your skin like a mist, and eyes peeked down at him. But instead, he could only lie quietly and listen to the melody slipping past your lips, curling around his mind like a viper.
A moment has passed, and the deep slumber began to coo his senses. He tried to fight it, longing to stay in your embrace a little longer. To remember the melody of your voice and the pattern of fingertips massaging his temples. The flowery, honeyed fragrance clinging to your skin and filling every corner of his body, taking away his privilege to smell anything else for the next few days.
Before the darkness blanketed his mind and breath became shallower, he could hear the last whispers of your voice:
"Go to sleep, my God. Allow me to accompany you for a while."
When he woke up, you were no longer there. Just a withered grass bending under his body and the warmth of the setting sun bathing his hair in red hues.
No sign of you or animals, and the God, once again, felt devastated. As if deprived of something he should hold onto with all his strength. He was a divine being, after all, and yet your misty figure slipped between his fingers like flowing water.
But his mind recalled those few words. Allow me to accompany you.
And thus, Sukuna decided to take this wish too faithfully.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
"Stop going out there alone," your mother has sighed, looking at your figure swirling around the wooden hut. "It's dangerous, the Gods are unpredictable–"
Your head shook, lifting the little willow-wined basket used for gathering flowers. "I am a Goddess, mother," you chirped in with a giggle, before glancing at the woman's creased forehead. "And you are too. There's simply no need to fear anything. Besides, we're safe in the spring domain."
Liar.
You didn't tell her about the God of Death crossing the border between the Underworld and mortals much more often than he should. Than he used to. With his gloomy aura beaming off the woods, although he thought that you didn't notice it. Crimson eyes followed you every single day for the past few weeks, and whenever he appeared, one side of your domain suddenly went quiet. Withered, under his death-bringing feet and the silent atmosphere he spread around himself.
And as a Goddess of Spring, you knew of everything happening on your land.
At the beginning, you thought it was rather funny. To see the animals and flowers frightened by his sole presence. You didn't give it much thought, as various Gods had strolled through the plains of your earth and chit-chatted whenever they spotted your figure hunched over the flowers.
But Lord of the Underworld wasn't the talkative type, nor did he engage in any closer relations. In fact, you didn't know much about him aside from what you'd managed to notice over the past weeks.
And you've noticed a lot. His body was built like a mountain, with a heaviness that couldn't be put into words. Two pairs of crimson eyes, lidded like sweet almonds and framed by rather long lashes. Pinkish hair reminding you of blushed peonies, and you wondered whether it would feel equally soft under your touch. Four muscular arms carried the little birdies up their trees when he thought you didn't see, and black stripes curled around his body – like deathly mist, tattooed all over his chest, back, and cheeks, as the God of the Dead didn't mind relaxing his beastly, naked body in the nearby rivers.
The water spilt over the grassy edge, and four arms rested on drenched earth. Crystal water looped his body shyly, smooching the sun-kissed skin with cold kisses. He couldn't see your hazy figure lurking in the bushes.
Your eyes glimmering like two fresh peaches and lips curling in a sly smile, upon seeing muscles upon muscles bending on the God's back. Slick and bulging, stripped of the heavy, dark robes he usually wore and enjoying the kisses of the Mediterranean sun.
Sometimes a nymph would notice him bathing at the river and coo shyly at the handsome but rather intimidating God. You've always observed those interactions from the tree, lurking curiously, with birds perched on your shoulders. All the encounters always ended in a rather pathetic failure, with the Lord of the Underworld ignoring the sweet chirps of little nymphs and their promises to warm his cold body.
All of them flew quickly upon seeing a grave grimace twisting the God's face, and all four palms curling into fists.
"Always so, so angry," you murmured to the red bird sitting on your finger, as it nodded its little head.
And so you didn't tell your mother about these few encounters, for there was no need to worry her. She kept you away from the Olympian Gods as long as she could, yet couldn't stop you from becoming a Goddess too. Truly unfortunate, if she had to admit it, as she had tried for a whole life to keep you well hidden in the far, far corner of Mount Olympus, in your own little spring domain.
"Just be careful," your mother whispered, pushing back a few loose strands of your hair. A small basket hung on your back, and robes clung to your skin. "You know how Gods can be…"
You knew. For you heard of Apollo and Daphne. Of Medusa and a curse sent upon her for being a maiden far too beautiful. About Zeus and Callisto, and more, more Goddesses, who suffered a terrible fate from the hands of Gods themselves.
You understood your mother's worry. Why she tried to tie you up to this little hut hidden in the woods of Olympus. Why she was the Goddess of Agriculture and tried so, so hard to keep her dear spring flower hidden from the prying eyes.
And yet, the serpent flow of destiny was truly twisted and unpredictable. Bending under the Moirai's deathly whispers, with a thin thread slipping between their bony fingers like a river of silk.
As many Goddesses before you, you too were soon to learn that playing with Gods – particularly those who seemed to take a special fondness for you – was a treacherous path. That approaching them cheekily, taking pleasure in keeping them in your arms and cooing like a wounded animal, was simply foolish. Mad, in every deep sense of the word, as out of the many Gods in this world, you particularly should not play like a fox with the Lord of the Underworld himself.
So, on the same day, as golden rays dribbled down your figure hunched over flowers, hands picking the season's most beautiful blooms, the earth suddenly burst open. With a raw, brutal rumble, unleashing chaos across the peaceful meadow. Birds rose from the lush branches, and all the forest animals that were cuddling near your body ran off.
The heavy dust had covered your eyes, smooching flimsy dress and delicate petals that bent under the heavy, little droplets of curled earth.
The obsidian chariot harnessed with three black horses appeared right in front of your eyes. Tall and eerie, still carrying the coldness of the Underworld and a man whose crimson eyes stared down at your figure.
No words could slip past your lips as one muscular arm lifted you up and easily flipped you over the shoulder. Locking you in place with the sheer strength of one hand, until your head hung down the man's back.
"Wait!" Rolled in a scream as the world in front of your eyes started to spin.
A voice you hadn't heard yet punched you like a bucket of cold water. "Don't be afraid, my Goddess," Sukuna said, before whistling to his horses. "You'll soon be able to run through the meadows of the Underworld."
It tasted raw, heavy, so, so low, licking your ears with flamed tongues. A voice truly worthy of the God of the Dead himself.
Before you knew it, the earth had swallowed the chariot once again. The rumbling tore through your spring domain, causing vast fields of flowers to vanish as if slowly devoured by the sky. The horses sped downward, pulling the chariot deeper into the earth, until only a faint glimpse of the familiar sun remained – a warmth you wouldn't see again for the next few months.
The darkness engulfed you, wrapping your skin with icy, deadly touches. It felt as though the three sisters had already severed your thread of fate, sending you to the Underworld sooner than anticipated and plunging you into the claws of the beast you inadvertently unleashed.
"My God," you mumbled, trying to wriggle under his heavy arm. "Where are you taking me?"
Sukuna chuckled lowly, his whole body trembling with a laugh that made your spine tingle. "To home, my dearest Queen."
Deathly whispers curled around your body with curiosity, as if the air in the Underworld had tasted such a sweet life for the first time. Dark clouds filled the sky, and the chariot plunged even lower. Soon, a vast, grimy land spread beneath you, with a thick river curling around the dark soil.
You have never seen the Underworld and have never shown any interest in it. Yet, from that point, with the obsidian chariot soaring high in the sky, it looked mesmerising. Almost magical, with deep, dark forests and withered meadows stretching across the land, lit only by the pale blue light of the moon and little gleaming shadows wandering aimlessly across the plains.
It wasn't difficult to spot Hades's temple. Or maybe you should say a castle.
Sitting quietly on the cliff, with Styx's calm waters flowing beneath its heavy walls. It towered over the whole domain, glimmering in blue light under the moonlight's kisses, and something in your breath has hitched upon seeing an enormous garden filled with withered trees looming over the dead flowers.
The air was biting cold, and yet the closer you were to the temple, the warmer it seemed to smooch your skin. It didn't carry the familiar flowery fragrance, but rather a heavy, woody scent, as if something alive still lingered in the bleak land filled with agony and doom.
When the chariot came to a halt on the dark grass, Sukuna set you down gently. With one strong arm still stalling on your back, as if afraid the moment your feet touched the earth, you would try to escape.
But there was no chance for it, as the Underworld was a trickery and a dangerous place.
"From now on, this is your home. My Queen," his crimson eyes never left your face, even when the hand showed towards the temple looming deathly.
You moved a step away, trying to slip from between the heavy fingers brushing your waist. "It is not my home, and I will not be your Queen. Now take me back to my domain."
Looking up was a mistake, for the gravity of his gaze almost pulled you down to earth. Four eyes stared down at your fuming face before one hand lifted and fingers traced the softness of your warm cheeks. "I cannot do it, my Goddess. That's what I decided, and that's what the Gods accepted."
"The Gods?"
His big thumb brushed your lower lip, and you smacked his hand away. A low chuckle slipped through before he pushed you towards the temple. "Zeus agreed, and that's all that matters. Neither you nor even your mother has any say in it."
You tried to move away again, but his strong arm only pulled you closer to his massive body. Twice your height, with four arms ready to manhandle you like a beast – you knew standing up to him would be foolish. And yet, you tried.
But he didn't mind, as you weighed less than a feather and lifting you was not a sweat for a God of his calibre. Your body once again rolled like a sack over his shoulder, but this time you tried to fight. With nails dragging down his back and teeth digging into the muscles bulging under his robes.
For you, it was a matter of life and death.
For him? A flimsy, sweet teasing from his dearest Goddess, who was yet to accept her fate.
Oh, his heart swelled with the purest joy at the sight of your misty figure wrapped in his arms after weeks of yearning. It didn't matter whether you wanted to stay here or not – Sukuna aimed to use every possible means to soothe your mind and pamper you like his precious wife.
"You ignorant brute, a beast, freak!" Rolled furiously, as you once again left the bloody, tooth marks on his back. "You cannot do it!"
Another throaty chuckle escaped from his side, with his arm cuddling around your waist with fondness. "I can, my Goddess. That's how love works."
"And what can you possibly know about love, my God?"
Sukuna didn't know much, but his greedy desire to always keep you in his sight and worship you as if you were the only Goddess in the pantheon must have been close to what love felt like. To get drunk on your laugh and the plush skin of your body every single evening, as if his whole world twisted around nothing but you. To hear your chipper run with stale wind through his decaying land and once again feel your fingers brush through his hair.
The God of the Dead, the elder of the mightiest brothers, harbinger of death, wished for nothing but to taste the nectar of your love.
But with a frown you looked at him, your teeth digging deeper into his skin – for now, it seemed rather fruitless.
He entered the temple and moved towards the massive stairway curling to the heavens themselves. Your furious shouts could be heard throughout the whole land, but it seemed that neither he nor the servant who suddenly appeared seemed to mind.
"Uraume, prepare a bath for the Queen," Sukuna said, glimpsing quickly towards the woman. Her white, short hair curled around her slim face, and deep eyes blinked in amusement at your sorry state.
"My Lord, I don't think the Queen likes this position," she muttered, sending you a pleading look.
Sukuna scoffed, correcting your body on his shoulder. "The Queen acts like a brat, so she will be treated like one"
Uraume nodded before going down the stairs and disappearing somewhere in the deep chambers of the temple.
Thus, it was the two of you again, and Sukuna moved slowly through the dark corridors, with blue flames licking your writhing body. He didn't mind the shouts, the nails scarring his back through the dusky robes till crimson droplets formed under the material and bites that your teeth have left on his shoulders.
In fact, the God of the Dead took a bizarre pleasure in feeling your flaming touch on his skin. Something in his chest swelled whenever your lips travelled to his neck, and it didn't really matter that they left the bloody bites and not the nectar kisses he yearned for.
At some point, you've finally entered the big chamber. The weird warmness crept through the tall windows, bending in heavy, marble arches. Vast plains of the Underworld rolled like waves on the horizon, and you stopped scratching Sukuna's back when the full land came in view.
Beautiful, endless, mesmerising, so different from what you grew up with. With only a pale, blue moon constantly shining upon the lost souls and deep, agonising cries coming from the Tartarus.
Sukuna finally put you down. "That's our chamber," rolled almost proudly, and you looked around the bedroom.
Dark, draped in misty veils, with a huge bed covered with crimson sheets and a baldachin moving together with gentle swooshes of wind. Warm flames have lit the place, with torches and long waxed candles glimmering shyly around the whole chamber.
Just behind the crimson curtain, you've heard the dripping of water and Uraume's hushed voice. So that must've been the bath.
"I will not be sleeping with you in one bed, my God," you barked, but Sukuna seemed not to care at all.
He pushed you towards the balcony, with a heavy hand placed on your lower back. "That's the garden. I made it for you," your chest squeezed. For you. "You can do anything you want with it, of course."
"It's impossible to grow life within your domain," slipped harshly, before your eyes looked up. Crimson moons stared down at you. All the time. "So you kidnapped me to grow you a garden?"
His sharp jaw tightened. "I did it for your own good," he muttered, hand lifting to brush away your hair. "For our good. I want you to be the Queen of the Underworld. My wife," fat thumb kissed you fuming cheek. "My Goddess."
And as much as you wished to stay angry, it felt impossible to hide the special fondness rising in your chest. A mix of hate and curiosity, as it was difficult to imagine why the Lord of the Underworld himself was such a desperate beast to lock you in his clutches.
Your eyes went back to the garden, taking in the withered earth and flowers bending in death.
But then you've noticed something – a tree. Dark, yet looking rather alive, blooming with red, round fruits that looked as if ready to burst.
Pomegranate.
And you, as the Goddess of Spring, knew why it seemed to be the only fruit growing deep within this deathly domain.
Sukuna followed your lidded eyes before a low hum filled the air. "You'll eat it at some point," seeing a sudden shock bathing your face and a slow shake of your head, he added. "Even if I have to force you."
Soon, you would discover that there were many, many other things the God of Death would force upon you, just to keep you within his touch.
And as surprising as it seemed, eating the pomegranate seeds to bind you eternally to the Underworld would be the last.
You didn't say anything, looking at the pomegranate tree with a grim expression ripping your lips. A Spring Goddess you were, and yet the single look of this rich fruit made you want to burn it right here and there.
"My Lord, my Queen, the bath was prepared," Uraume slipped in politely, before once again disappearing into the darkness.
Sukuna came inside, and you followed, passing under his heavy arm as he lifted the curtains between the chamber and bath.
Multiple candles licked dark walls, and the steam curled in the air. The big, marble pool filled with hot water called your name like a madman, and you were ready to tear your dress in half just to dip inside. The air in the Underworld was much, much colder than up in your domain, and after the eventful day, you truly wished for nothing but a simple bath.
And yet, even this was to be wrecked by Sukuna's four hands slipping the misty robes of your shoulders. Your trembling finger caught the dress in front of your chest before it could fall.
"My God, may I know what you are doing?" There was no trace of madness in your tone, only simple weariness and irritation.
His lips curled in a smirk, and if not for both hands gripping your dress, you would surely smack his cheek. You would try at least, as bending your head back to meet his gaze was already difficult enough.
His dark robes hit the floor before you've noticed it, exposing you to the view that – rather unfortunately – made your thighs clench. Massive thighs bulged under muscles, and it seemed clear that he could snap your neck with a single clamp.
But it wasn't the thighs that hit your cheeks with a maddened fever. No, rather two, fat cocks, with shafts so heavy they barely stood straight. Droplets of sticky pearls curled around two pulsing heads, sticking like a net to his pubes. The smooth, reddened skin glimmered under the dimmed flames, and your breath hitched while taking in the inhumane size.
And then your eyes followed up to his belly, mouth grinning mischievously, torso wide as mountains and four arms, just waiting to grab your flimsy body.
Sukuna was… terrifying. Alluring, feral, obscene, but oh so beautiful. With a body worthy of a God and an almost tyrannical aura that clung to him like a second skin. The mortals have feared him, Gods always tried to keep the relations as polite as possible, and yet you somehow found a wisp of fondness coiling in his gaze.
"I'm planning to bathe with my Queen, of course," Sukuna murmured, tilting his head with a cheeky grin. Four crimson eyes burned your skin, and you've never, ever felt as small and helpless as now. "Let me help you with it." Fingers tugged on your dress, trying to slip it down.
You took a step back, gripping the robe even tighter. "My God, I'm fine. But please enlighten me why we should take a bath together?"
He, however, was relentless, and it took a single, harsher tug to let your robes fall down the marble floor. A gasp slipped past your lips as you tried to cover yourself with pathetic moves.
Sukuna lifted your body with a single arm, and soon both of you sat on the little bench carved in a pool.
He took a deep, deep sigh, leaning against the edge. Two muscular arms kept you in place, with your back plastered to his chest and ass brushing against the massive cocks, while the other two started to soap you up.
A shiver ran down your spine, feeling big, yet soft hands smooching your skin in gentle circles. Slowly, tenderly, massaging your shoulders and back, going down, and down, to the swell of your wet breasts.
A quiet, shy moan escaped your feverish cheeks when his thumbs brushed the perked nipples. You wriggled under his touch, as if fighting against itself to give into the warmness beaming from his body and heavy fingers washing your tired skin.
Your hips jerked again when he pinched your nipples, sending a sudden, electrifying wave down your spine.
"My Queen, try to keep yourself in place," he said with a low voice, and only then did you notice that your ass had been bumping against his cocks for this whole time.
You didn't look back, as if in fear that even a single glance could pique Sukuna's curiosity and test the dangerous waters of your patience. "Is it necessary, my God? I can wash myself."
Two hands gripped your hips, quickly turning you towards him.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as he sat you right on his muscular thighs. The water spilt over the pool's marble edge, and crimson eyes stayed fixed on your face. On your slightly parted lips and hair sticking to your cheeks.
His upper arms slipped up to your waist, while the lower ones started to massage your thighs. In slow, gentle circles, dangerously close to the naked pussy that bounced against the fatness of his shafts.
He played a dangerous, oh so dangerous game, but took a maddened satisfaction in observing the changing looks on your face. Anger mixed with delight, as if you wanted to hit him and nuzzle into his touch at the same time.
"What's wrong, my Queen?" he muttered, soaping up your waist. "Why would you wash yourself alone if your husband is here?"
At this point, both of you knew that the bath was a mere, foolish excuse for the Lord of the Underworld to finally enjoy the sight of your naked body. To take a pleasure in feeling your naked skin against his and test his own patience, feeling the warmth of your cunt brushing against his cocks.
His moves were deprived of any sexual manner, and yet your insides burned with the most wicked flame. Your drenched fold were bumping against his cocks, yes, and the fat shaft brushed against your clit, maybe, but even then, he didn't try to push you.
To force himself on you, as if waiting for your consent.
As if he wished you craved him as much as he did you.
But even then, every few seconds, he would move closer. His fingers would brush your trembling nipples, hips move beneath yours, and he would always take in your muffled moans with a sly smile.
"You're not m-my husband," rolled embarrassingly weak, and Sukuna hummed, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.
"Not yet. I'll give you time to make yourself at home," thick digit slipped inside your mouth, and you quickly bite it. Hard, feeling his bones crack under your teeth, although he only smiled. Like a man possessed. "As I was saying, I'll give you a month–"
"And what then?" you mumbled, with lips still curled around his thumb. "What if you won't tame me after a month?"
Pink strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead, and you needed to dig your nails into his chest, not to lift the fingers and brush them away. Four crimson eyes – two big, lidded in slyness and two smaller, curved like a moon – drank in the sight of a sweet little Goddess squirming on his massive body.
"Then I'll force you to love me," spilled calmly, without hesitation. And maddening yearning in his eyes told you that he was ready to do it. That his understanding of love was far from the sweetness and kindness you've known of.
His fingers travelled up, through the breasts, collarbones, and neck, till the second hand joined your face. He cupped your cheeks gently yet lined with restrained violence.
Possessiveness, madness, that filled his flamed eyes.
"Don't test my patience, my Goddess," he murmured softly, pulling your face closer. His lips nearly brushed against yours, and a wave of warmth washed over your body. "Let me love you in my own way, and I promise to make you happy. Within my domain, you can be as free as you desire."
It was difficult not to have your heart flutter upon hearing those words.
He knew how crazy your mother was about you. That you spent most of your life chained to her leg, never leaving the spring domain, never feeling the winds of freedom.
That's why his promise sounded so exhilarating. Wild, absolutely insane, and yet letting you let out a deep sigh. Because finally, after so many years, you were alone.
Without your mother, without the prying eyes of Gods, without the same meadows caging around you like a prison.
Only with a much, much bigger, heavier, and mind-spilling problem, of a God of the Dead who seemed to take a special, wicked interest in you.
Your hands, still trembling on his chest, pushed yourself away. Hips slipped from his cocks, but not before giving two, feverish heads one last brush. As if you wanted to push him over the edge.
He groaned and squinted his eyes. "Where are you going, my Goddess? We're not done yet."
Four hands shoot towards you, fingers trying to catch your slippery body. It curled at the end of his fingertips, teasing him mischievously with full breasts dripping with crystal droplets and soft skin glimmering under the gentle flame of candles.
His cocks moved, eyes tried to take the wholeness of your divine beauty, and yet, after weeks of watching you every single day, he still couldn't believe that a woman of your sort truly walked this earth.
"I am done with you…" your eyes curved cheekily as you slowly moved back. "My God. I agree to a monthly trial–"
"It's not a trial, you'll be staying here forever."
Your back hit the pool's edge, but Sukuna didn't move. Instead, he observed you. Like a predator, preparing for a deadly attack.
"As I said, I do agree. But if you won't manage to persuade me to stay," slipped in a whisper, and you smiled even wider, seeing a furrow creasing his forehead. "I will simply kill myself. Just like Daphne did."
His heart nearly stopped, crimson eyes bloodshot. Before you could escape the pool, two arms yanked you back, pressing your chest against his. He lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Finger gently squeezed your face with a slight pinch, until salty fog blurred your sight.
"My God–" you barely muffled.
"Don't ever," he growled, gripping your cheeks harsher. "Ever say that in front of me again. I will break your legs if I have to. I will tie you up to bed if you force me to," something warm spilt from his belly, and just then, you remembered about his mouth. Heavy tongue took a long, fat drag of your wet cunt, and you cried within his brutal embrace. "You are mine. Every dream of yours, every part of your body, every single laugh, all of it belongs to me."
His grip on your cheeks was too strong to let you shake your head, but light enough to allow another moan to spill from your throat. In sweetness and pain, feeling the teeth of his belly mouth pinch your clit.
"My God–"
"Do you understand me?"
"I-I–ahh," a cry filled the foggy bath, feeling his tongue slurp on your wetness. It felt heavy, girthy, tasting you with a maddened pleasure as if feasting on the honeyed juices dripping down the water.
"Do you understand?" he gritted through his teeth, loosening up his grip on your cheeks. "I don't like to repeat myself."
With another sweet mewl, your head lulled to one side in a nod, and he finally released you from his clutches. You stood right in front of him – wet, trembling, with slippery thighs and cunt already missing the swirling of his tongue on your clit.
His thumb followed down to his belly, gathering traces of your cum. A second later, thick digit found its way to your lips, pushing the stickiness right onto your tongue.
It tasted sweet, almost milky-like, clinging to the muscle like a spider's web while his thumb smeared it all over your insides.
"Tastes delicious, hm? That's what you're keeping away from me," Sukuna groaned, drinking in the sight of your teary face. "I am not a patient man, my Goddess, but my heart belongs to you, and I wish to treat you the best I can," he lifted up your face, creaming your cheeks with the rest of the cum. "But I do warn you, dearest. When the month passes, I won't be holding myself anymore. So you'd better accept this fate and just let me love you."
You didn't nod, didn't even blink. Just observed his devilishly handsome face with teary, wrecked eyes beaming with fury.
You tried to snap back, but his thumb pushed harder on your tongue. "Uraume," he called, looking somewhere over your shoulder. "Take the Queen back to our chamber. I think she's a bit tired."
Light, white robes curled around your shoulder, before Uraume gently pulled you away from Sukuna's clutches. "My Queen, allow me to–"
You shook off her hand, wiping the rest of your cum from your cheek. "Thank you, I know how to tuck myself to sleep."
And so you left your future husband alone, with rage and ecstasy still mixing beneath your chest.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
The next few weeks passed with silence and tension binding the Goddess of Spring and the God of the Dead like a thin thread of fate. Only the three sisters were able to cut it swiftly and release you from the torment, and yet no one ever came to save the poor petal.
The first few days you spent mostly in the garden, lying under the pomegranate tree and observing the darkness blanketing the sky. The withered plains of the Underworld have never been touched by sunlight, and the lack of it started to bother you too.
There was no way to tell day from night, as the air was always slightly cold and the sky never turned any colour other than dark blue. Sometimes a sudden fog has risen over the horizon, curling above the parched trees.
The agonising screams from Tartarus could be heard over from your balcony, although after complaining to Sukuna about your lack of sleep, they somehow quieted down. You didn't pry into his methods, nor did you need to exactly know how he accomplished it.
It was difficult to grow anything in the garden, and after days of trying, you finally gave up. Well, not entirely, for you spent more and more days trying to think of a plant that would not need sun nor much water to bloom and if Sukuna could let you out even for a few days, surely you could find something.
He, however, was fully relentless at your begging as there was nothing binding you to the Underworld. Yet.
Fresh pomegranates whispered sweet sins to your ears as you looked at the round fruits bursting with crimson seeds. You wondered what they tasted like. How pristine their juices were.
Sometimes your finger would trace their hard skin with delicacy and quickly pull away, feeling Sukuna's heavy gaze drilling the hole in the back of your skull.
He seemed to always have you in his sight. It didn't really matter whether you strolled around the garden or went deeper into his domain – he was always there. Somewhere, lurking at your misty figure, the only colourful thing in his vast world, even if you didn't see him.
For the first few days, you didn't talk at all. And he was oh so angry with your nasty mood swings, even though it seemed he truly tried to be on his best behaviour.
For a while, you even refused to sleep in the same bed. He would wake up in the middle of the night only to find you cuddled into Cerberus's massive, soft body, snoring like a little baby and nuzzled under his heavy neck.
The beastly dog quickly became your favourite creature in the whole domain, and Sukuna couldn't count the times when you strolled with it through the dark plains and meadows, giggling sweetly whenever it rolled in withered grass.
It seemed the beast was particularly fond of and protective of you, so that even the God of Death himself could not approach you without the beast's shiny, sharp teeth growling his way. Crimson eyes observed him carefully, as if ready to rip his heart out if his lone finger brushed your silky skin.
And whenever Sukuna reminded you that Cerberus also had his role in the Underworld, the loveliest pout would twist your lips, and a dog's low growl would slash through the air.
And because Sukuna was softhearted only for you, he didn't have another choice but to allow you to adopt Cerberus as your own, exclusive pet.
But he absolutely couldn't stand waking up to the coldness wrapping around his body, and thus, for the first few days, in the middle of the night, he would travel all the way to Cerberus's cave only to take his Goddess back.
"Where is she?" the God would growl, with all four arms folded on his chest and eyes lidded with sleep. "Give her back, she'll come back to you in the morning anyway."
And the dog would usually ignore him, with three massive heads pretending to be plagued by a heavy slumber. Sukuna would sigh and slip a soft plea, trying to resonate with a beast he raised himself.
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes would glare at him deathly, but after a few quite embarrassing and yet desperate pleadings, the dog would lift his head up, only to reveal your peacefully slipping body. Curled against his fluffy neck, with fingers gripping the soft fur and shallow, peaceful breaths coming from your parted drooling lips.
Sukuna would lift you up with utmost care and bring you back to your chamber, wrapping himself around your body with all six limbs.
When the "morning" came, he was always the first one to slip from the bed. But not before getting himself untangled from your body. Lying serenely on his broad chest, with a drool pooling right above his heart and soft strands of your hair tickling his chin.
It was his most favourite sight during that month, and the only chance to see your face without a pout or crease forming on your lovely forehead. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get close to you as much as he wished to.
But at least, after the few weeks of constantly going back and forth between your chamber and Cerberus's cave, you finally stopped escaping from his clutches and slept in his embrace for a whole night.
Moreover, during those weeks spent in each other's presence, you seemed to enjoy nothing more than pissing the God of the Dead off.
During one eventful night that both he and Uraume would recall in the future with a painful headache, you sat quietly at the long table. The wooden furniture bent under the heavy supper, with meats, fruits and vegetables prepared in feast portions.
Sukuna loved to see your cheeks stuffed full, and sometimes you would even joke that he tried to fatten you up only to eat you for dessert. He chuckled lowly, every time answering that if only you spread those thighs nicely, my Goddess, I would gladly eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
An embarrassed, nasty slip from your lips, as you tried to ignore the warmth blooming in your lower belly.
One evening, however, Uraume interrupted your supper with a heavy panting and trembling gaze.
"My Lord, my Queen," she said, taking a few deep breaths. "Forgive me for the intrusion, but something deeply concerning has occurred."
"What is it?" Sukuna mumbled, not even looking her way. Instead, he poured you another cup of wine, while you tried to hide your flushed cheeks behind a curtain of hair.
Oh, you were so, so fucked.
"All the souls lingering on the river's banks have entered the Underworld."
Sukuna suddenly stopped and put the jug of wine back on the table with a loud thud. "What?!"
Both you and Uraume shrugged.
"Charon took them all," she said, glimpsing your way.
You, however, looked down at your plate, as if trying to completely erase yourself from this conversation.
"All of them were buried with a coin? How is it possible?" Sukuna growled.
Uraume took a deep sigh, with deep, sorry eyes still lingering on your hunched figure. "He said that…" She hesitated, biting down on her lower lip. "The Queen ordered to let them in."
Fuck.
The air suddenly stilled, and a moment passed before Sukuna's crimson, angry eyes looked your way. But it's not like you could see the rage blazing in his gaze, as you still carefully observed the fresh fig lying on your plate.
The fact that he somehow got delivered all your favourite, fresh fruits down to the Underworld was truly–
"Do you want to tell me something, my Queen?" he asked with utmost politeness, although you sensed the displeasure bubbling in his throat.
"No, not really," you murmured, playing with a juicy fruit.
He took a deep sigh, curling all four of his hands into fists. A soft vein popped on his forehead as he truly, really tried to keep himself calm.
"I will ask you again," slipped softly, before his two hands pulled your chair closer to him. Your thighs brushed against each other, and his fingers lifted your chin up. Till you were forced to meet his heavy, bloody gaze. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?
Oh, lying to him like that was much, much harder.
"Listen," you started, and he already sighed. "I don't see any problem with it. Why would you keep them there if Charon can just take them all to the Underworld? Isn't that the whole point of your domain?"
His fingers tightened on your chin because, dear-fucking-heavens, he really struggled to hold it together. Four bloodshot eyes looked down at your pouty lips and doe eyes, as if your pure loveliness could melt his anger.
Well, it usually could.
"They cannot enter Hades if they do not get buried with a coin. That's the rule all of them must obey," rolled harshly, and your pout became even sweeter. Fuck. "How did you even force Charon to do it? This old man is stubborn as hell."
You nestled into his palm, attempting to ease his heart with a gentle, pleading look. "It turns out most of the creatures here are quite afraid of Cerberus," you giggled, even though Sukuna was clearly unhappy. "Um, and they’re also afraid of you. The threat of reporting to the Lord of the Underworld himself tends to work quite effectively."
Sukuna pulled away with a heavy groan and started massaging his temples. One side of him was rather happy that, after weeks of fighting, you decided to use both your title and him to get what you wanted. But the other wanted to curl his fingers around your neck and snap it clean, for the mess you have caused with your need to piss him off.
He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "Why did you do it?"
"They looked sad."
His crimson gaze once again snapped to your face. "Sad? The souls?"
You nodded. "Well, all of them wanted to enter Hades so–"
"My Goddess, you can't do such a thing!" Uraume cried, looking out the tall window as if all those souls were travelling up Hades' temple.
"Why? I thought I was the Queen of the Underworld." A cheeky smile curved your lips, and Sukuna almost lost it. "I can do whatever I want. Your own words, my God."
Well, he did tell you that from now on, this domain was under both his and your control, but his mind ran far too short to predict that you, in fact, wouldn't know the most basic rules of this land.
And thus, he could only swallow his rage and look back at Uraume. "Catch them all and bring them back to the shore. Also, tell Charon that from now on he's forbidden from listening to the Queen's orders."
You scoffed, crossing arms on your chest. "I'm just going to set Cerberus on him."
"Right," Sukuna growled, sending you a short, angry look. "And also chain the dog to his cave. This beast has forgotten who his real master is."
You could forgive him mistreating the poor souls and Charon, but a line had to be drawn regarding your beloved dog.
Your fingers grabbed his forearm, eyes bulging in worry. "Wait! Leave Cerberus out of this," Sukuna looked at your nails digging into his skin and a jittery gaze. "I'm sorry, okay? Just…" There was a thread linking you both – dangerously thin, leading to an emotion your relationship hasn't yet discovered. Forgiveness. "Please don't hurt him. It's my fault. Cerberus listens to everything I say, he's just a silly dog. So let him be. If there's someone who should be punished, it's me."
Sukuna didn't say anything for a while, staring at your pleading eyes with a furrowed brow. A storm of feelings coiled in his head, and you noticed his gaze soften slightly. He often acted like a brute, of course, but you believed that somewhere, deep, deep beneath his chest, there was still a man who placed the little birds that had fallen from the trees back in their nests.
"Fine," he finally muttered and oh, how shocked he was when you chuckled and wrapped yourself around his neck. For a moment, he sat frozen in place, but soon all four arms curled around you, as he inhaled the sweetness coating your skin.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Uraume looked away to hide a little smile tugging on her lips, as it was a long, long time since she had seen the God of the Dead blushing like a virgin nymph.
Sukuna coughed, sending her a deadly gaze. "But I still believe that you and Cerberus could use some time away from each other. I'm tired of raising two brats at the same time," he mumbled, and you giggled into his neck.
"Well, my God, try to suggest it to him, and we'll see what happens," you pulled away, with hands still wrapped around his neck. "I'm afraid your beast found himself a new owner."
And so, since that evening, a little, hopeful grain started to bloom in Sukuna's heart.
As it seemed that his lovely Goddess had finally begun to warm to him. During the evening baths, you chirped into his ear like a fair birdie, sometimes even washing his muscular back and massaging his always-creased forehead.
At night, your body instinctively nuzzled into his. Legs wrapped around him tightly, hands curled around his arms, and a slightly wet cheek left a small puddle of saliva on his chest. He always beamed with warmth, and you, like a cat, used his body as a heater.
During the shared breakfast, you kept talking while he fed you the sweetest, juiciest fruits. What's more, your roles would shift, with your fingers occasionally placing a piece of orange onto his lips – sometimes upper, sometimes lower.
Whenever you stole a few apples for Cerberus, as he's tired of eating raw meat, he would only scoff and wave his hand. The beast has been living on meat and water for thousands of years, and yet, a few weeks after your appearance, he suddenly developed a lavish taste for fruits picked only by you.
On some afternoons, when Sukuna would nap under the pomegranate tree, you would creep to his side. Carefully place his head on your thighs and hum a lovely melody, just like you did back then in a forest. He would always try to stay as still as possible, just to prolong those precious moments – your fingers brushing through his hair and flowery fragrance coating his skin.
One special afternoon, your hum was interrupted by something else.
Something… alive.
The high trilling of crickets, soft chirping of birds and muffled croaks of the frogs, coming from the little pond Sukuna has built up for you.
Your fingers suddenly stopped in their tracks, and the God coughed quietly, wriggling under your touch. Like a dog, begging for more pats.
"How is it possible?" you asked, looking down at his "sleeping" face.
There was a minute of silence before he slowly, carefully opened his eyes and sighed heavily, meeting your solemn gaze. "The animals also need to enter Hades. Just on different rules," His eyes fell on something crawling up your hand. "Look there."
And to your surprise, you've noticed a grasshopper sitting serenely on your skin. It wasn't as lush and green as you remembered it to be, but misty, almost like a cloud, with only his foggy soul still crawling up your arm.
And then you've noticed birds sitting high up on the pomegranate tree, with their little wings looking like a shadow.
Something heavy formed in your throat and heart stirred with affection. "You brought them for me?"
Sukuna hummed, closing his eyes and gently placing your hand back on his head. "You can say that. Most of them were already here. I simply ordered to be bring them to our garden."
Your fingers started working through his hair again – scratching and massaging his head, till the beastly God stretched on your thighs like a cat and nuzzled into the softness of your belly.
You didn't push him away but rather giggled and whispered a sweet thank you. A little smile tugged on Sukuna's lips, and he purred softly my pleasure, Goddess.
And thus, for the first time in your life, you have felt free.
With Underworld's woeful air smooching your cheeks and shadowy animals following you around the withered plains.
You have never felt more alive than in the realm of the dead.
That's why when Sukuna called you into the main hall one day, your heart froze. With dread and fear, upon seeing your furious mother standing right next to him by the altar.
The altar, decorated with your small marble figures and fresh flowers, he ordered to be changed daily since no plant in the Underworld could survive longer than a day.
Your fingers curled in fists, lips fell in line, and somehow, even though you loved her dearly, you simply couldn't take a step closer.
Sukuna stood still, with four arms crossed on his chest and eyes looking carefully at your trembling body. As if he could read all the thoughts coiling beneath your furrowed brows.
"My darling, oh Gods," she sighed, crossing the distance between you two in a few steps. Before you knew it, she pulled you into a hug, although your arms hung loosely by your sides. "I thought I'd lost you forever. Can you believe that I needed to threaten Zeus himself to finally find you?"
She pulled away and grabbed your cheeks, only to meticulously ogle your face. "Oh my, you're so pale! This place did you no good, but at least you're fine. This brute…" she looked over her shoulder, glancing at Sukuna's stony face. "My heart almost stopped upon hearing that he was the one who kidnapped you. Did he touch you? Are you okay? Did he, you know, force you to–"
"Mom," you quickly interrupted her and wriggled yourself out of her embrace. "Why are you here?"
She looked dumbfounded – with warm eyes bulging in shock and lips slightly falling open. When you stepped back, her forehead creased.
"I came to take you back, of course."
A gentle sigh echoed through the vast temple hall as you glanced over her shoulder. Somewhere nearby, a man was attentively listening to you, with a heart pounding loudly in his throat. Filled with fear, anticipation, hope.
Sukuna rarely looked at you with that gaze – filled with love and dread, as if he understood that neither anyone else nor he himself was truly worthy of your heart. He scarcely ever seemed so weak and afraid, as if his mind, soul, heart were fully, completely wrapped around your finger.
And thus now, after so many of his threats, you could make a choice.
To stay here, with him, or go back to your mother.
"Let's go, darling, I'm getting nauseous just from being here," she tried to grab your hand, but, once again, you stepped away.
"I'm not going back," slipped in a whisper. "I can't go back."
She looked shocked, and her lips curved in a nervous smile. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I'm bound to the Underworld."
Lie.
But oh, how good it felt in your heart, lifting the weight of all the mixed emotions you've buried over the past few days.
"Bound? What do you–" she started, and then, as if suddenly enlightened, gasped. A sharp cry escaped her throat, and her eyes looked back at Sukuna with a frightened, intense gaze. "You! You forced her to eat the seeds!"
Before she could step closer and smack his cheek with an open palm, you grabbed her. "No, mom. I did it myself."
She stopped, turning back your way. With disappointment filling her eyes and trembling lips. "You did what?"
"I love him."
And that, well, that was a confession no one expected. Not you, mother, and particularly not Sukuna. His breath hitched, eyes bulged, and he almost, almost took a step closer.
As his heart, mind, and soul were consumed by a desire to hold you and caress you yearningly until your lips swell from the sweetness of the kiss.
Your mother quickly interrupted, holding your cheeks. "You don't. Don't say it. You don't love him. He's a beast who manipulated your mind, love has no place here. Don't act foolishly, that's not how I raised you."
Your heart shuddered in wretchedness upon her words. As you knew how much she hated all the Gods. How hard she tried to keep this sweet, yet so foreign feeling away from you, as if the little seed growing in your heart was something shameful.
Crystal droplets trickled down your cheeks, wetting her pads. "But I do, mother. And I will stay here, with him. That's my home now."
There was no need to listen to her further. Sliding her trembling hands from your cheeks, you turned and quickly disappeared into the comforting darkness of a temple you used to hate that much.
Her low pleadings filled the main hall, but you could only ignore them. Seeing her again, after a whole month, brought dreadful memories of years spent in her golden cage.
You entered the chamber and sat down on a plush bed. Your hands still slightly wet from nervousness, eyes taking in the cosiness and warmth of the bedroom you shared with… him. Candles licked your skin sweetly, and moon lurked through misty curtains.
Even the usual shrieks coming from Tartarus were mild that evening, allowing you to enjoy the little crickets slipping from the garden.
Cerberus barked somewhere deep within your domain, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You were on your way to give him his daily dose of apples when your mother suddenly appeared.
You sat on a bed, hunched and frozen, not noticing a massive shadow that swooshed closer. Dark robes appeared in front of your feet, and soon a heavy, musky fragrance followed.
"My Queen," Sukuna started, not quite sure what to say. A silence has fallen – pleasant, warm, homey. He sighed and crouched to meet your gaze. "Are you okay?"
Only then did he notice crystal droplets still dripping down your cheeks. "My Goddess, why are you crying?"
"Don't allow her to take me," slipped in a crying whisper, before a muffled choke followed. His big hands gripped yours, trying to stop the trembling. "Please, let me stay here."
His fingers lifted to gently cup your face. "What are you talking about? Of course, I won't let you go," crimson eyes softened as a large thumb brushed your lower lip. "Have you forgotten my words? You're never leaving my side."
"Never?"
He shook his head. "Never. I will stand against all of Olympus if that's the price of loving you."
Another sharp cry rolled from your lips as you nuzzled into his hand.
He changed your positions, sitting on the bed and letting you climb onto his thighs, only to push your crying face into his neck. Four hands embraced you before he began to cradle you like a baby.
With soft whispers and kisses placed on your forehead.
When the first shock rolled away and the tears finally stopped, you pulled back. With swollen lips and puffy cheeks, that made Sukuna's heart swell with fondness.
His tongue lapped up the last salty droplets before big palms cupped your hips. "You'll stay here, with me," plush lips peppered your cheeks, nose, and the slightly trembling chin. "And you'll let me love and worship you as you deserve," his hands rolled your hips against his, drawing a moan from your throat. "No one will take you away from me. Not now, not ever."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, back bent in a delicate arch. You looked at him with a plea, taking in the divine beauty of his beastly face. "What if Zeus himself comes for me?"
His lips were barely brushing against yours, and a woody, heavy smell of his body tickled your heart. "I'll kill him. My Goddess, you truly underestimate me. I will move heaven and earth to keep you by my side."
And then, with a last longing gaze connecting your starving souls, your lips have finally crashed.
In a slow, gentle, yet raw kiss, with his teeth biting down on your lower lip and throat swallowing all your sugary moans.
All four hands quickly found their way around your body – caressing, holding, gripping the swell of your ass and moving your hips in harsher rolls.
Misty robe hanging on your shoulders slipped down with a gentle tug, and soon his two upper hands lifted to cup your breasts.
The softness of your skin made Sukuna's mind spin, and a craving to sink himself into your warm cunt felt almost maddening. His cocks, still clothed by a dark tunic, brushed against your folds and the sweetest, purest moan rolled right into his lips.
"Feed me, my God," you murmured, pulling away slightly. "Feed me the pomegranate seeds and tie me to the Underworld. To you."
Of course, you lied to your mother.
And Sukuna knew it too. He observed you for a whole day and night, never leaving your giggles out of his sight, and thus he was aware of your little, desperate lie.
What he hoped for, however, was that your confession was sincere.
Tasting the sweetness of your lips, he realised how truly doomed he was – completely entangled with the scent of your skin and the beauty of your eyes. His heart skipped a beat when your fingers pulled his pink hair, causing his hips to buck instinctively, seeking the intense pleasure.
You pushed his chest, forcing his massive body to lie down on the mattress. "Feed me, and I shall let you have a taste too."
Your lips met his cheeks, jaw, and dropped down through the bulging throat and collarbones, while fingers slipped from the dark robes. He wore nothing beneath the long tunic, and soon your lips curled around his nipple, biting it softly with a hum.
Two upper arms swiftly pulled you up to his face, while the lower ones still held your bare hips. "What will you let me taste, my Goddess?"
A cheeky smirk tugged on your lips as you placed your leaking cunt right over his open belly mouth. "Your favourite fruit, my God."
With a loud moan, you lowered down onto its tongue, feeling the heavy muscles giving you a long, nasty lick. A shudder washed over your spine, and Sukuna drank the next cry that escaped your throat.
"You taste even better than I remembered, my Goddess," he groaned, feeling the saccharine droplets coat his lower tongue. Sticking to his teeth and inner cheeks like the sweetest honey. "But I have a much better idea."
And with that, you quickly found yourself facing his massive cocks and hovering over his face. Your puffy, drenched folds hang right above his lips, and he looked at your dripping cunt with a low groan.
"Fuck, my Goddess," two fingers parted your folds, only for a small, sticky droplet to drip down his chin. "You smell so fucking good, lower yourself a bit."
He didn't wait for your answer as two big hands pulled your hips down with a single, strong move. A groan slipped past his lips and went straight to your cunt, sending a wave of trembling pleasure straight to your clit.
"That's right, my sweet fucking Goddess," he mumbled, lips curving under the weight of your hips. "Don't be shy, get yourself comfortable."
"I-I'm not shy," and if not for a heat that slapped your cheeks, he maybe would believe you.
But your body was too honest, too inexperienced to hide the way your hips rolled against his tongue. Another pitched moan filled the foggy air when his tongue slipped inside your tight cunt.
His lower hands landed on your back and slowly, slowly bent you down. Till your wet lips met with two, pulsing heads and breasts hang right over the belly mouth.
Oh, he was right, this position was absolutely killing… both of you.
Because the moment big, beastly lips curled around your nipple, your hips buckled, and a sweet moan tickled both leaking heads.
"Nghhh," bounced sweetly off his veiny shafts. "That's–mhmm, my God, feels so good."
Sukuna chuckled, slurping on your swollen clit and pushing another cry from your chest. "Give them a little lick, my Queen. They've been waiting for you whole fucking month."
With a hazy gaze, you glanced at two fat cocks smooching your cheeks. Wet and massive, with droplets of musky precum oozing down the pulsing skin and a strong fragrance making you even wetter. He smelled so heavy, manly, and the moment you gave the first cock a kitty lick, Sukuna groaned straight into your clit.
Your hand grabbed the other one and started pumping it in slow, gentle moves, with your thumb brushing the reddened head. Belly mouth sucked on your breasts as if waiting for something more creamy to release itself onto his ravaging tongue, and you cried even louder whenever the wet tongue travelled between both of your nipples.
"How is it possible, fuck," Sukuna groaned, scooping a hefty gush of your cum and drinking it straight from your fluttering hole. "That you're so sweet everywhere. My beautiful, divine Goddess. Come on, try to suffocate me with your cunt. Put your whole weight into it."
With your cheek stuffed full of his cock, you pulled away with a nasty pop and looked over your shoulder. "My God, please take a deep breath," you reminded, because Sukuna seemed to be absolutely lost between your drenched thighs.
With a single finger thrusting into your tight hole and an open mouth catching all the dripping sap. His teeth grazed your clit, before a warm tongue kissed the pain away. He slurped like a madman, whispering little obscenities straight into your pussy and kissing her with nasty squelches. Gluey cum stuck to his nose, lips and chin, connecting him with your parted folds.
"I can't, I don't have to, she needs me," he groaned, giving you another heavy lick. With tongue covering the entirety of your cunt and finger pushing through your pulsing walls. "So sweet, my Goddess, you're so fucking delicious."
Oh, there was truly no remedy for him!
And thus you went back to his pulsing, almost bursting shafts. Your puffy lips kissed two heads before sucking on one gently. Fingers squeezed his constricting balls, juggling them softly and giving them a shy lick.
Sukuna trembled under your body, so you did it again, and again, and again, kissing, licking and sucking on his balls, while rolling your hips against his tongue.
"My God, are you okay?" you slipped shyly, although a cheekiness shimmered in your haze.
Sukuna pulled away from your cunt, and took a deep breath. "Don't ask me stupid questions, my Goddess. My patience is already hanging by a thread, so unless you want me to fold in half and fuck that cunt raw, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours."
You giggled, biting gently down on his balls. "I'll take that as a ye–ah!" you moaned, when the second finger slipped into your tight cunt. "My G-God, that's too–"
Too much wanted to roll, but Sukuna soon added the third . "You're so tight, my Goddess. I'm afraid both of them won't fit in," he slurped, feeling the desperate squeezes of your walls and juices trickling down his fingers.
Both?
An unsettling, truly frightening thought has crossed your mind. He could tear you apart with one, and using two seemed to be a completely foolish idea!
When his pads pushed something, slightly swollen and plush, your whole body shuddered. Pleasure washed over your spine, dripping down to curled feet, and a sugary moan wrapped around his leaking cock.
"There it is," Sukuna growled, looking at your raw, soaked pussy trying to mould itself around his fingers. "My Queen, you're doing so well. Squeezing my fingers so tight, I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cocks."
The weird warmth has been coiling in your belly since his lips landed on your clit. But now, with fingers pushing your walls and pads brushing against the plump spot, something warmer, wetter started to plash inside your pouch. Something dangerously pleasurable and ready to burst beneath Sukuna's tongue and his big, stomach mouth sucking sweetly on your tits.
"My G-God, I–" you moaned, when all of his three fingers bent against the sweet spot and lips slurped on your clit. "I'm going to, mhmm, allow me to cum on your cocks, p-please."
And a single teary look over your shoulder, with hair sticking to your wet cheeks and lips fallen open, was enough to make him lose his mind.
"Whatever you wish, my Queen," he said, quickly pulling you away from his mouth.
Your body turned again, and this time you found yourself back on top, with two massive cocks squirming beneath your drooling folds and his lower hands gripping your thighs.
"You want me to…?"
He nodded, gently pulling your hips up, to help his leaking heads kiss your fluttering hole. "Ride me, my Queen. I want to watch you take it up…" his fingers traced the softness of your belly, before pushing on a spot somewhere just beneath your button. "here. Both of them."
Your pussy was ready to burst any second, and you could already feel something else, other than your normal wetness, drip down his cocks. The fog in your mind grew thicker, sweat coolly lined your neck, as you pressed both hands against his chest and leaned on trembling, feeble arms.
Rough thumb from the upper arm slipped between your folds, rolling gently the puffy clit. "Slowly, my Queen, take a deep breath." You did just that, with eyes looking straight into his. Both heads started forcing their way through your tight walls, gathering the slippery juices on the way. "That's it, that's my good girl, deep breaths."
He talked you through it, with thumb rubbing the sweet button and lower hands slowly, slowly, pulling you down his shafts.
A sharp cry rolled past your lips when both heads slipped inside. Pushing into your contracting walls and ripping you open, till the metallic taste of blood pooled somewhere at the back of your throat.
The water plopping inside your belly was filling you full, together with Sukuna's cocks constantly trying to thrust inside. You could feel every vein, every detailed curve of his shafts lick your gummy insides, as he pushed, and pushed, and took in the maddening beauty of your face, utterly lost in pleasure.
Your pussy squelched around his monstrous cocks. Cried sweetly, with a clit slowly getting much harsher rubs, till the swollen button started to tremble.
"My God, w-wait, something's wrong," you cried, trying to pull yourself off.
But Sukuna's lower hands kept you in place, and his hips bucked up, trying to meet yours. "Everything's good, my Queen. Deep breaths, you're doing so well."
"No, you don't get it, I–"
The heat hit your cheeks, walls clamped down half-thrust, and the alarmingly plopping water, finally, finally, spilt.
You came.
Or maybe, gushed.
With his cocks barely inside, a hefty wave rolled through your spine, spraying Sukuna's hands, belly, and chest with your cum. Your body trembled in pleasure, and he used this short moment of distraction to thrust his cocks fully, till your hips finally met his.
It was brutal, mean, absolutely filthy, with his lower mouth drinking your squirt and crimson eyes glimmering with maddening yearning.
Something in his mind snapped when he noticed a big bulge right under your belly button, and within a second, your position changed once again.
And this time, you knew that it was over.
He folded you in half, till your ass peeled off the drenched bed, and pussy glistened under his fiery gaze. All four arms kept you tightly in place, with lower limbs spreading your soaked thighs and upper ones taking something from the bedside table.
Only then have you noticed a crimson, bursting pomegranate, licked by the candle's warm tongues and dripping down Sukuna's forearm. He ripped it in half with a single, gentle move, before drinking the seeds with eyes never leaving yours.
"Deep breath, my Goddess," he said again, before both of his cocks rammed into your needy, stretched hole and lips crushed against yours. "Swallow it," he muttered into your reddened teeth, pushing all the pomegranate seeds straight into your mouth. "My little slutty Queen. Coming on my cocks when I barely thrusted in."
The fruit tasted sweeter than honey itself and mixed with Sukuna's sweet spin. His tongue trailed against yours, before lips moved towards your cheeks, chin, jaw, leaving all over your face a sweet, bloody trace of the fruit.
The power that tied your body, heart and soul to the God who wished for nothing but to love you like a madman and worship every piece of your skin.
His thrusts became more erratic, brutal, with squelches filling the wet, foggy air and his heavy, massive body leaning on your folded legs. His hips met yours with each roll, and whenever he pulled away, a long, sticky strand stretched between his soaked shafts and your sensitive cunt.
"Open up, my Queen," he growled, digging his fingers into your jaw. "Show me how well you swallowed it all."
Your lips fell open, and a string of drool trickled down his fingers. Big thumb pushed on your reddened tongue, and you sucked it sweetly, with eyes crossing in pleasure.
The long, fat tongue of his lower mouth slid out and gave your clit a long, filthy lick, before its lips sucked on it raw. Irritating the sensitive button and slurping on the last droplets of your squirt. Sukuna groaned, feeling your walls clamping around his cocks and pushed harsher, as if trying to fight the merciless squeeze.
"Fuck, my Goddess, let me–ahh–let get to your womb," he groaned, giving you a single, brutal thrust. You cried around his thumb, but he simply shushed you sweetly. "Don't cry, it's alright. Ngh, squeezing me so fucking hard," he leaned over, licking off the salty droplets.
His hips moved with unbelievably violent motion, rocking your bed against the wall and drawing a loud cry from your throat. Two pulsing heads kissed your womb with squelches till it swelled like a juicy peach and bent under his heartless thrusts.
A familiar warmth once again started to pool in your belly. Your arms curled behind Sukuna's neck, pulling him into another, filthy kiss. "My God, I'm g-gonna… soon… mhmm so good, s-so–ahh!"
He chuckled against your lips, but couldn't ignore the lovely tenderness filling your teary eyes. His heart jumped, and lower hands folded you into an even meaner mating press. Till you could barely breathe under his massive body, squeezing you down.
"Say it," he whispered, letting his cocks rip you raw. "Say it again."
Two fat shafts slipped in and out, smooching every little corner of your tired, swollen cunt. The pleasure filled you from head to toe, overflowing your body in electrifying strokes.
You knew what he wanted to hear. But his thrusts made a mushy mess out of your mind and eyes rolled back each time his hand pushed the bulge forming under your belly. Not even pregnancy could get you that bloated.
When your head lulled to the side, his fingers dug into your cheeks again, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Say it, my Goddess," he said, licking the last red traces of pomegranate juice from the corner of your lips. "I beg you."
"I love you," slipped like a dream. "I–I, mhmm, I love you. My God, I–"
His lips joined yours in a yearning, maddened kiss. "Fuck, my sweet Goddess. I love you so much, so fucking–fuck."
The warmth in your belly spilt again, and watery cum flooded his abdomen. The belly mouth sucked itself onto your clit, drinking each and every bead of your sweet nectar.
A second later, his hips finally stilled. Pulsing heads nuzzled into your womb, filling it with heavy, gluey cum. He pumped you full, with maddened pleasure creasing his forehead and knees digging into the mattress. Everything, just to get as close to you as possible.
His hefty cum filled your belly before bursting outside and buttering your folds.
"My God, at this point, mhmm, you'll knock me up," a sweet, tired giggle slipped past your lips, feeling his seed overflowing your poor womb. "Although I truly wouldn't mind."
He sighed, nuzzling warmly into the crook of your neck. The plushiness of your skin still made his mind spin, and the flowery fragrance haunted him like a spirit. "My Goddess, don't play with fire."
Your fingers brushed through his hair, pulling a low hum from his massive chest. "I'm not afraid to get burned," you said with full seriousness.
But God didn't answer. Just cuddled closer to your body – plush breasts, soft neck, and hair tickling his nose. He reminded you of Cerberus whenever the beast tried to cuddle into your side.
And with the same love and fondness, you kissed his temple, whispering simple yet oh so important, I'm yours, forever.
Forever it truly was for you, as no other couple on Olympus would ever conquer the utter devotion and love of the Goddess of Spring and the Lord of the Underworld.
Such contrary characters and yet relishing themselves in the most maddening obsession the Olympus has ever seen.
©liahcharms all rights reserved. Do not copy, plagiarise, feed AI, translate or modify my works.
Oh god, I'm tired but so, so happy. I think it's pretty good, but please let me know your thoughts in the comments <3 Pray forgive me for any mistakes, the wizard was proofreading it at 11 p.m.
Collection taglist: @silverklaus @buttclencher28 @anothergojostan @sirensdairy @waterisntwetanymoreiam @somekindofcelebrity @prome911 @iridescentshine @venussdovess @classycreationlight @bokenessa @sashabearsstuff @gater-grabber96 @venetiandream @luvducks19 @koreluvsspring @moonlight-inthe-sea @hashahasha @mysicnote @sukunasl-ttywh0re @princesstiti14 @kissthegoatt @chosoismyeverthing @getospuresoul @ane5e
permanent taglist 1/3: @mellyrally @1cckedheart @ham-star @indom-itus @satorupied @msheds0519 @a-dizzle777 @man1cslut @naxinomi @getopilleds @shittypunkbarbeque @urgirl-jijiiii @mariaflor873 @wiishies @d34dg1rl101 @disaster-rose @levisotakugf @yailuxe @palanggaaa
꒰ satoru & suguru taking advantage of the fact that you're a pushover ! ꒱
Pairings: Suguru geto x pushover!reader x Satoru gojo
Warnings: noncon, implied past noncon, dubcon, coercion, mdni, f!afab!reader, unprotected s*x (wrap it!), p in v, mmf, oral (m. receiving), throatfucking, nipple play, tiddy sucking, clit stimulation, cervix fucking, cumming inside, creampie, threesome, manipulation, reader is hella spineless beware and is taken advantage of by satosugu, college au, everyone is 20+, mindbreaking if you squint, dd:dne, block my blog if uncomfortable with such topics + not proofread!
wc: 2.5k
© art credits: @tekla135 on zerochan/twt/pixiv.
do not romanticize or normalize dark content irl.
“Come onnnn! Don't be like that. Let us seeeee.” Satoru whined, arms folded across his chest looking at you disappointedly, Suguru stood right next to him, waiting for you to take your hands off from yourself. You were currently topless and braless sitting on Satoru's bed as the two men loomed over you.
“Please? I swear we'll get back to working on the project once we get a good look, pleaseeeeee.” Satoru pestered you, pouting and huffing loudly. Suguru nodded, agreeing with him.
“It's really hard to focus for long hours, let us have a reward before at least yeah?” Suguru adds, grabbing your wrists in a firm grip. You tried to resist but it resulted in failure since Suguru was much stronger.
You felt humiliation burn underneath your skin as your arms were held open by Suguru while they both stared at your tits. Satoru smirked in satisfaction, he brought his hand closer to your chest and you tried to back away.
“You said you only wanted to see!” You protest, trying to break free from Suguru's grip but he had you in a unyielding hold that made it impossible to escape.
“I know but it's—” He grabs one of your breasts, squeezing the flesh and fondling it “It's hard to resist, just excuse me this one time yeah? I'm only gonna touch.” He finished, thumb grazing over your nipples as he drew small circles around the bud. He presses against your bud, making you jolt in surprise.
You could feel his breath against you, which made you nervous, Satoru played with your tits, you looked away, not wanting to watch yourself get toyed by him.
But then you felt it, the wetness of a warm tongue enveloping your bud into its damp environment before the same tongue flicked it up and down and proceeded to suckle onto it.
Your eyes widened at the scene, you thrashed in Suguru's hold as you tried to get Satoru off you.
“‘Toru— you— you said you're only gonna touch!” You gasped repeating what he said earlier, but Satoru just smiled, humming in agreement while he continued to suck on your tit. He let go momentarily to respond.
“Haah—? Yeah I am touching, wiffth my mouffh.” His words were slurred and muffled as he latched on again, pushing you down onto his bed. This caused Suguru to let go of your hands.
You immediately use that opportunity to pry Satoru off but he slaps your hand away. While you're focused on him, Suguru makes his move, you feel another wet tongue enveloping your free breast and sucking on it.
You tried to push them off but they were heavy, so you tugged on their hair, it was just useless cause they instead just bit onto your breast to hang on. You gave up with a heavy sigh, knowing resisting will only make it worse.
Satoru fully immersed himself, sucking on your tit with his eyes closed, licking the bud with generous care and precision that caused wetness to pool in between your legs.
Suguru on the other hand, held eye contact as he looked up at you, teeth grazing and nibbling on your nipple as you let out a gasp at the pain before he quickly soothed it with his saliva.
It felt degrading, having both of them suck on each of your breasts like you were some sort of treat.
“Mhmm, so fucking cute.” Suguru let go of your tit with a pop before he shifted a little upwards and captured your lips in a hot kiss. You shook your head trying to tell him no, but he didn't listen and continued to do as he pleased.
You just laid there, having Satoru suck on your tits while Suguru engulfs your mouth, pushing his tongue inside while he cruelly pinches the nipple which was abused by his mouth previously.
But then the mattress underneath your head dips, causing you to look up and see Suguru. His thighs were placed on either side of your head as he hovered over you, pulling down his pants and boxers.
Suguru pulls away from the kiss, at the same time, Satoru lets go of your tit as well.
You think they're finally done.
You realised what was happening and tried to get up but Suguru forced you down with one hand, holding you by your jaw as he shoved a finger into your mouth.
“N-no please don’t—.” You beg as you watch him stroke his cock while staring at you from above. He pried your jaw open a little.
Tears began to form in your eyes as you shook your head, but defying your wishes, Suguru shoves his fat and thick cock right into your mouth.
You closed your eyes in pain, your jaw muscles ache while your mouth struggled to stay open as he pushed his cock inside your throat. You felt him pass the back of your throat and deep inside causing you to gag and choke.
“Holy shiiit.” Suguru gasped, shutting his eyes in pleasure as your warm mouth and throat welcomed him. He bites his lip at the way your throat was bulging because of him, he could see the outline of his cock as he settled as deep as possible.
He felt you gag around him, your throat muscles clamped around his dick which made him let out a lewd grunt as he controlled himself. He didn't want to bruise your throat like the last time.
While you and your throat took its time to adjust to Suguru, Satoru was on the move, he stripped off your bottom apparel in a swift motion, pulling your panties along with it too. It made you even more panicked cause you couldn't see what was going on because of Suguru.
You flailed your legs, trying to kick Satoru off as you tried to pull yourself away from their hold. For a second you thought you succeeded in escaping from them when you felt Suguru's cock pull from your throat.
Yet, that moment was short lived when Suguru pistoned his hips forward and pushed himself further into your throat. You choked around his length, throat burning at the stretch while tears continued to fall from your eyes.
You took deep breaths, trying to not suffocate to death due to Suguru's cock.
Your legs were held by Satoru who seemed annoyed by your reaction a few moments ago. He forcefully pushed open your legs, spreading them as wide as they could go before positioning himself at your entrance. You felt his tip press into your clit, you wondered when he'd unbuckled his pants cause you didn't hear any sound— probably because your ears were too busy ringing from Suguru’s assault.
“She's so wet and yet pretends like she doesn't want us or like us doing this to her.” Satoru mocks as he rubs his tip against your cunt, letting the tip bump into your clit, ultimately stimulating you.
Everything was made worse by the fact that you weren't able to move your neck to see him, all you could do was just feel him.
His mushroom-headed tip continued to rub against your vulva, coating his shaft in your wetness while his precum leaked out in beads. Satoru bit his lip in arousal before he grabbed you by your thighs.
He let go of one thigh momentarily as he guided his cock to your hole before pressing his tip right against your entrance before he held onto your thigh again and pushed into you.
You wanted to scream at the way he was stretching you, he was way too big and was shoving himself instead without letting you loosen fully. You couldn't scream because your mouth and throat were occupied, so all you let out was a failed form of wails. Suguru hushed you, gently caressing your jaw.
“Oh god— fuck.” Satoru whispers breathelessly, completely indulging himself in the way you feel wrapped around him. He closes his eyes, basking in the feeling for a little while.
He then begins to move slowly, pulling out before he thrusted in, this makes your body push upwards and take more of Suguru's cock into your throat. You shut your eyes in acceptance, knowing there was no escape because they both had you locked up below and above.
Suguru withdrew his hips, grabbing your throat with both his hands, using it as leverage to thrust himself in your mouth and throat.
Both men continued to ram into your holes messily, but that didn't last long as they developed a rhythm soon after. When Satoru would withdraw, Suguru would thrust, pushing your body downwards and causing your cunt to envelop his cock and vice versa.
Your body continued to rock between the two men as they continued their abuse on you. You felt yourself losing your mind as your brain scattered to make this experience make sense. You breathed in slowly and tried to calm yourself to make this less painful and humiliating.
Saying that this situation made you feel embarrassed would be an understatement, it was truly degrading to the highest extent. They were both using you like a fleshtoy, one in your throat and one in your cunt, pervading your holes as they wished without a care for you.
You shouldn't have agreed to anything they demanded, you thought they would stop if you just took your top off, but they prodded further, making you take your bra off too, then they wanted to see, and then touch, and then— thrust!— you let out a squeak when you felt Satoru’s tip bump into your cervix.
Their demands will never end until they get what they want.
You should've known.
Because this wasn't the first time it happened.
You hated how you couldn't stand up for yourself, how you mend so easily by people's demands because no one ever taught you to put yourself first.
You'd always gotten taken advantage of due to your personality, but not to this extent.
Others would only take advantage of you for basic tasks by dumping all their chores and work onto you, basically running errands for them, your dignity, shame, and everything would still be intact.
But Satoru and Suguru strip you bare, they take advantage of you from all the sides, making you do their work, their chores, and completely use you as they wish. Most people didn't push you as far as these two did, because unlike these two, they are decent human beings.
Satoru and Suguru however, never miss a chance, it is literally so easy for them, they just need to get you all helpless and in a situation where you cannot refuse them— even if you do refuse, they just won't stop. It's not like you refusing would change their already made up minds.
Even if you didn't voluntarily take your top off and instead refused; they would've just ripped it into shreds and put you in this situation anyway, cause that's what they both do everytime.
Satoru grabs your tits with both hands, groping them and squeezing them like they're some kind of stress balls to play with, cruelly digging his nails into them while he thrusts into your cunt extremely rough.
Suguru slaps his hands away, shooting a glare at Satoru before his own hands gently caress the area where Satoru's nails dug in, a gesture that was supposed to be comforting.
It would've been if he wasn't inches deep inside your throat and fucking it like a madman.
Satoru let out a grunt before his hands found your clit, he rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves gently before slowly getting faster.
The sensation made your gut churn in excitement much to your horror, you felt your body voluntarily chasing it and bucking into his hips instinctively. Satoru smirked when he noticed it and continued to do it.
He wanted to rip an orgasm out of you so badly.
Satoru's thrusts sped up, a rhythm that was starting to get familiar was shattered due to him. Suguru did the same, rutting his hips at a high speed, he could see the line of his cock thrusting in and out of your throat.
You were losing air, choking and suffocating around his cock, you felt like passing out.
Suguru lets out a loud moan, pushing his cock further inside your throat as it twitches, shooting his load inside you, forcing you to instinctively swallow it. He stays there like that for a minute before pulling out.
Your body automatically whiffs in a huge amount of air the minute he leaves your mouth, making you let out a loud gasp. You could still feel his sticky residue in your mouth which you swallow since you know that spitting it out would make Suguru upset.
You shouldn't care if it upsets him, but you do for some reason.
Just when you thought you could catch a little break, a familiar knot begins to tighten in your stomach, you lift your head up to see Satoru rubbing your clit faster and harder, all while his tip brushes into your gspot.
You couldn't even process the feeling or the sight before your body is overloaded with an intense amount of pleasure, it courses through your nerves, evoking goosebumps at the sheer intensity of it. Your body twitches, back arches as you let out a filthy whine-like moan of Satoru's name.
You shut your eyes because you felt like you'd go blind if you didn't, that's how intense the orgasm was.
Satoru smiles in satisfaction before shifting upwards and capturing your lips in a kiss, his tongue licks the inside of your cheeks, he could taste Suguru which made him let out a whine.
He continued to kiss you as he thrusted in and out. His hand reached for yours as he held you gently, before locking his hand with yours.
The moment felt so oddly romantic and intimate, but it quickly went away with your senses returning back to you.
Satoru didn't take long to finish after that, shooting his load inside you. He rode out his high for a moment before pulling out and watching his semen leak, dripping out from your pussy.
He scooped it up with a finger and pressed it against your lips before forcing it in and making you suck on his finger.
“I want you to taste me too.” He muttered before he pecked your cheek and pulled away.
You laid there, staring at the ceiling as they both cleaned and fixed themselves up. You felt enraged, gross, disgusted, constantly being used like this. You wanted to say something, tell them to fuck off and leave you alone.
But the thought of being alone and not having friends makes you hesitate.
You sit up in defeat before you clean yourself and dress up again properly, it takes a while but you're finally able to work on the project again.
Suguru makes you sit on his lap while Satoru comes up with a draft and multiple ideas on how to go about the topic. Suguru felt warm and cozy unlike just a few moments ago, and Satoru's words don't feel condescending. It feels so normal.
Moments like this make you question whether what happened just moments ago is actually real or not.
It's truly pathetic.
Perhaps that is why you can never truly stand up for yourself, as cruel as they are, they also make you feel comforted at the same time, give you the attention and care you lack from others.
You wanted to laugh at yourself.
𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚,
౨ৎ 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫.
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬◞﹒୧ . Your life changed overnight, and now you find yourself taking care of a child you didn't want. Despite your insomnia and anxiety, you're unable to see a therapist or doctor to talk about what happened; you prefer to relax with weed in the evenings, when your baby is asleep. It's better than nothing. Healing isn't linear and isn't the same for everyone. That's what you tell yourself every Saturday when you get into Eren's car to buy what you need. Eren isn't stupid; he knows you're the kind of client who's running away from something. He avoids getting attached to broken people; they always bring trouble. But through a few glances and a few silences, over the months, perhaps the barrier between you has been lifted to give rise to a unique relationship, which heals you more than any therapy could.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬◞﹒୧ . 21.1k words, black!fem!reader, plus!size!reader, reader has curly hair, plug!eren, stoner!eren, implied rape, sexual trauma, ptsd, depression, single!mother!reader, difficulty with motherhood, they are both traumatized, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, falling in love, love, mutual pining, friends to lovers, tattoo!artist!eren, affectionate!eren, provider!eren, avoidant!eren, eren has a mustache and a goatee, tattooed!eren, fear of commitment, grief, friends with benefits, situationship, unconventional relationship, male friendships, intimacy, vulnerability, healing, therapy, pregnancy, wedding, smut, emotional sex, gentle sex, pet name (baby), dry humping, lots of kisses, cunnilingus, oral sex, fingering, standing sex, unprotected sex, sobs during sex, riding, cowgirl, hair pulling, angsty sex.
𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬◞﹒୧ . [repost] yall wanted this classic back, mama did it for you !
౨ৎ one week with you ౨ৎ
Crying, crying, and more crying.
Sitting on the floor, staring at your kitchen cupboards, your back against the oven, you looked as if you were dead, your body still and your eyes vacant. But you were so alive, having given life just a week ago. It was strange how something as extraordinary as creating life was synonymous with death for you.
Crying, crying, and more crying.
Your daughter was crying so hard it was giving you a headache. Your gaze drifted down to the knife drawer. No. You weren't a murderer. But it was so tempting to imagine killing the source of your suffering and exhaustion.
You got up from the floor to open the drawer and take out the sharpest knife. With slow steps, you made your way to her bedroom where your daughter was struggling to sleep. As soon as the infant came into view, your hand holding the weapon trembled.
She had the same skin color as him. You could feel his hands on your body, taking away your control, your freedom, your voice. The thrusts that took more from you than they gave. Your chest tightened, and your stomach churned—your whole body reacted to the human consequence of that tragic night.
The baby's cries seemed to subside when she realized she wasn't alone anymore. As if an inexplicable bond connected you to that tiny being. Mother to child. If you could, you would sever the thread that entangled you.
When you gave birth, you thought you would feel that love all mothers talked about, that raw emotion that gripped the heart and delivered promises of protection. Yet you felt nothing. No hatred, no anger. Just an abyssal void. With empty eyes, you stared at the baby in your arms, wondering if you were lucky enough to have her die prematurely.
You pressed the tip of the knife into your daughter's belly, the chubby flesh creating a dip. She was so cute in her pink onesie, the scent of the special baby oil emanating from her making you sick. Becoming a mother meant sacrificing a part of your life for a vulnerable being who didn't know how to navigate the world without you, and you weren't sure you had the instruction manual to be the best guide.
You hadn't eaten or slept since her birth. What mother who couldn't take care of herself could possibly take care of her family?
The more you looked at her, the more hesitant your grip on the knife became. The more you focused on her toothless mouth, her tiny nose, and the few black hairs she had, the more you felt his weight on you. Your breathing quickened, the panic of being trapped beneath a man overwhelming you. You dropped the knife in her crib and rushed back to the kitchen, sitting on the floor with your arms around your knees as you rocked back and forth.
The crying started again, and you were about to lose it. She was too noisy, reminded you too much of him, gave you a stomachache, and then—it was your turn to cry. The bond between mother and daughter. What do you do in this kind of situation? When you had dreams, goals in life that were shattered by the arrival of a baby? When you were little and you cried, who did you run to for comfort?
Onyankopon. Your brother. Your best friend.
But it's been months since you last spoke, ever since you left college and distanced yourself from your family. He's still friends with the traitor. He doesn't know what happened. You took your phone out of your pocket and stared at Ony's number. He wasn't going to answer. You pressed the call button, waiting with your heart pounding for him to reply.
“˚ʚ♡ɞ˚?” he awoke the call, his voice surprised.
You missed his voice, your heart felt lighter when you heard it.
“Hi Ony.”
“Why are you crying?” The bond between brother and sister. He knew just from your voice. He didn't ask why you hadn't spoken to him in so long, why you decided to go through your pregnancy alone. He just wants to know why his best friend is suffering.
“The baby.”
That’s all you tell him. He doesn’t need to know that you were contemplating killing your daughter, that you were depressed and suffering from panic attacks.
Ony sighed, empathy filling his voice.
“It must be hard being a single mother, I understand. Do you need money? Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll give you anything you need.”
Your best friend.
“No. I…”
Your eyes rested on the knife drawer.
“I need something to relax me. Especially at night. She sleeps during the day, but at night she cries so much it makes me anxious.”.
“Why don’t you go see a doctor for anti-anxiety medication?”
You drew your lips into a thin line. You hadn't even been able to talk to your brother about your trauma, how were you doing talking to someone you barely knew?
“˚ʚ♡ɞ˚?”
“I can't,” you whispered.
Ony remained silent on the other end of the phone line for a few seconds. There was so much he didn't know about you right now, so many questions. He felt like he'd lost his sister, and he was grateful that you were talking to him again even if you weren't giving him any answers.
“I have an idea, but I don't know if you'll like it. Smoke some weed. It might help you fall asleep.”
“Okay.”
“You changed,” he chuckled. It was true that you weren't the type of girl who did that kind of stuff. When you were in college, you were so focused on your studies that you never went to frat parties. Not because you were the "innocent good girl" type, but because you were ambitious. You dreamed of being a writer, and your creative writing major was the perfect degree for you. You loved spending hours analyzing texts, reading classics, and debating in class. Too bad now you couldn't write.
"I've lost myself."
"Don't say that. It's just weed, it's not a big deal. Everyone smokes weed."
"No, Ony. I've really lost myself. I'm this close to taking cocaine to feel better."
"Stay on the green side, never something artificial like coke, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚. I don't know what you're going through, but know that I'm here when you're ready to talk."
Was it true? Would he really believe you if you told him?
"Thank you, Ony."
“I’m gonna send you a friend’s number. His shit is the best.”
A shiver ran down your spine. You hoped it wasn’t one of his friends you’d spent your teenage years and college years with. You received the screenshot of the guy’s contact and your body relaxed when you saw that the name “Eren” was unfamiliar.
────────
Ony had said that Eren often woke up late, so he would travel for any request in the middle of the night. Under the moonlight, you left your building wearing a vest that was becoming too small for you. Since you weren't eating, instead of losing weight, your body was storing every little thing you ingested. But you were too depressed to care about your appearance. A black car was parked in front of the building, its windows down, and music was playing. As you approached the vehicle, you recognized Future's voice and the song "PLUTOSKI." You crouched down in front of it, getting to the level of the window.
A man who looked to be about your age had his eyes glued to his phone. His mid-length brown hair framed his face, while his hand held a cigarette outside the car window. His black hoodie blended well with his tattooed skin; you could see ink designs on his neck and hands. His angular features, his mustache and goatee—he was a very masculine man.
“Hi,” you said shyly, resting your elbow on the windowsill. Alerted by your voice, he looked up. Emerald eyes met your brown ones, and you observed each other for a few seconds. Eren’s eyes narrowed on you, noticing that your eyes were puffy.
Ony had warned him that his sister would ask for his services, and he asked him to be gentle with you because motherhood was rough on you. Eren was used to having all sorts of different clients, so selling weed to a single mother wasn’t unfamiliar to him. He was already planning to make you an offer since you were his friend’s sister, but seeing your red eyes, he knew it would make you feel better. He turned down the music on his phone and leaned over to the passenger window.
“Yo.” He inclined his head. “You good?”
“Yeah, sorry. Rough day.” You tried to smile, but it came across as a grimace.
“It’s okay, come in.”
You opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat.
“What’s your budget?” You fidgeted your hands on your thighs, glancing at your building. You thought about your baby crying while you were outside with a drug dealer. What a terrible mother you were. The traitor had ruined your life and your child’s in his wake.
“I only have $30.”
He let out a low chuckle.
“You made me come all this way for $30?”
“Sorry.” You swallowed hard. “I haven’t had many tips at my job lately.”
He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag and exhaled.
“It’s all good. No need to explain.”
Eren didn’t care about his clients’ private lives, but you were his friend’s sister; he was at least going to treat you with respect and empathy.
“A bit more than half an eighth is enough for you?” He rummaged in his glove box for 2-gram bags of weed.
“I don’t know what that means.”
His lips curved into an amused smile.
“Your brother is a heavy user, though.”
You looked away; he was a stranger. He didn’t need to know that you had cut ties with your brother for months after your rape. Eren noticed your distant expression, but he didn’t press the issue. He checked his notifications on his phone to see where his clients needed him. It could take him 5 minutes to roll the blunts for you, since you were a beginner. In the dim light of the car, he looked even more attractive, and that made you sad. Sad because you wished you could have fun with a man like him, like you used to do in the rare moments when you weren't studying. Sad because he seemed friendly; you could at least joke with him, but the fact that he was so masculine scared you, reminding you of the traitor.
“It's a grinder,” he explained, showing the cylinder on the dashboard that he had taken out of its glove box. “You put the buds inside, and by twisting it, it makes little pieces. I can give it to you; I have loads at home.”
Your heart swelled at his gift, and you relaxed as you listened to him.
He showed you how to roll a blunt, depositing the greenery onto the paper.
“You need a filter, but a rolled-up piece of cardboard will do.” He showed you the small white piece and placed it inside the paper. He rolled it between his fingers and then brought it to his lips to lick the sticky part.
“Try it.” He handed you one of the small papers for blunts and cigarettes.
You managed to get a little greenery to fill the paper, but when you rolled the paper up to close the blunt, you dropped the filter in the car.
“Six out of ten. You're average,” he teased you, but his tone wasn't unkind.
You didn't know how, but spending time learning to roll had soothed the unease that consumed you and led you to open the knife drawer. When you gave him your money to pay, you were overcome with the need to stay longer. People were touch-starved, but you were deprived of attention. Like a desert explorer who had spent hours without water, you felt reborn to have a little social interaction after spending your pregnancy alone.
“Do you want to smoke with me?” you asked in a small voice as he started the car.
He paused. “Don’t you have a baby to take care of?”
“Right.”
You flinched and looked down. His gaze softened.
“Avoid showing that kind of expression to other dealers; some of them might take advantage of your distress,” he said, his voice serious.
“I know…”
“And don’t trust dealers who consume the merchandise reserved for their clients. These motherfuckers have no discipline and are probably stupid.”
“You don’t smoke?”
“Of course I do,” he chuckled. “Not just the weed for my clients.” He received a notification on his phone, and he glanced down. “I have other drops to make.”
You placed your hand on the car door handle, but he nudged you, offering his fist.
You bumped your fist with his, making a handshake that took you back to your college days with your brother's group of friends.
“Don't change your plug, I get jealous easily.” Your lips quirked up, and for the first time that evening, you had a semblance of a positive expression on your face.
“Don't worry, have a good night,” you got out of the car and walked to your building, your heart lighter than before.
Once home, you breastfed your daughter, your eyes devoid of emotion as you watched the baby in your arms. Your breasts had grown to accommodate the milk needed to nourish her, but your heart didn't have the space to accept it. You rocked her to sleep, and once she was asleep in her crib, you lay down on your bed to smoke the blunts you had rolled. After a few minutes, a state of bliss, free from doubts and anxieties, took hold of you, and you fell asleep, an image of Eren's hand tattoos as he showed you how to roll a joint in your mind.
────────
౨ৎ two months with you ౨ৎ
“Luther” by Kendrick Lamar and SZA played in the living room as Ony, Eren, Connie and Armin smoked together on the couch.
“I tell you the best movie director is Barry Jenkins,” Ony shook his head, his voice dismissive.
“You’re out of your mind,” Connie mumbled. “Have you seen ‘do the right thing’ by Spike Lee?”
“Eren tells this dumbass that Moonlight is the best movie ever made,” Ony nudged Eren, who was barely responsive. Head resting on the backseat, his eyes red-rimmed and half-lidded, he glanced at Ony with a frown.
“Fuck off, man. You know I don’t watch movies.”
“Are you even literate?” Connie chuckled.
Eren glared at him. “What's even the correlation between your question and the topic, dickhead?”
“Eren is more like a music nerd.” Armin said, passing the blunt to Connie. “If you guys had movies about music, he'd watch them.”
Ony side-eyesed Armin. “Here comes the bromance. Leave that dick out of your mouth, man.”
Eren's phone rang. He glanced at the notification. It was a message from you.
“The usual, please. I had a rough day. Can I keep you company while you do your drops?”
“Ony?” he asked.
Ony stopped bickering with Armin to focus on Eren. “Yeah?”
“Why is your sister so lonely?”
Ony scratched the back of his head, wincing. He was asking himself the same question. “She cut ties with everyone about a year ago, for no reason. She doesn't want to see me, but we talk from time to time.”
Eren's eyes narrowed. “And… You're okay with that? I mean, she has a baby. I've been providing for her for two months now, and every time I see her, she looks like she's been crying.”
“What do you think I am, Eren?” Ony's face hardened. “She is my best friend. I've tried to understand her, but try helping someone who's moving without giving their address to anyone. I'm just going to wait until she's ready to talk about it.”
“She seems to need someone to force their way in.”
“Why don't you want to be her friend?” Ony tried. “She has issues with her family. Maybe someone from the outside would help her.”
“Do I look like a good friend?” Eren sighed, leaned over to rest his elbows on his thighs. He stared at his sneakers. It wasn't that Eren lacked confidence; it was just that he'd never been good at emotional comfort. So trying to improve the mood of a depressed single mother was beyond his capabilities.
“You're a good friend, 'Ren,” Connie reassured him.
Eren rolled his eyes, not believing any of this.
“It's true,” Armin added.
“Oh, we know you like him, man,” Ony laughed quietly.
The boys' laughter filled the room as Eren remained silent, staring at your message.
Eren didn't like broken people. They destroyed everything in their path and were so needy that they stole other people's freedom. Eren needed to be in control of his life. It was thanks to this determination that he had saved his family and lifted them out of poverty. A lot of pressure on the shoulders of a little boy. He was devastated to lose his father, but now, as the only boy in the family, he had to find solutions quickly. He had started dealing drugs for a gang at 15. Being a low-ranking member of a criminal organization was tough because he was the one who had to do the risky work that no one else wanted. But he didn't care; his mother was no longer working due to grief-induced depression, and they had to find money.
He had done everything to ensure his family lacked nothing. He paid for his mother's therapy, paid for his sister Mikasa's ballet lessons, and supported her passion for gothic style. Eren was a fighter. So how could he help a woman who had nothing and couldn't even find the motivation to raise her child? What did he have to teach her?
“Anyway, I don't care about her. She’s your sister, not mine. I have nothing to gain by being her friend,” he lied, but he got up anyway and grabbed his car keys from the coffee table.
“Be gentle with her or I will kill you,” Ony warned him.
“You can’t even take care of her and you’re acting like you’re protecting her,” he sneered, shaking hands with all his best friends before leaving Ony’s home.
────────
“You good?” Eren asked, observing how puffy your eyes were.
Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, you stared at your trembling hands. “Yeah.”
“You don’t seem well.”
“Is this any different from usual?” you grumbled.
“Watch your tone.” Eren started the car and connected his phone via Bluetooth to play his playlist. Bodies by Drowing Pool played in the car, and you watched him curiously as the metal music enveloped you.
“I don’t understand your taste in music. Last Saturday it was rap, today it’s rock.”
“Nu metal, not rock,” he corrected with an amused smile. “I just like music. Why choose a genre when I can appreciate everyone’s art?”
“It’s been months since I listened to music. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be a fan of someone’s discography.”
“Why?” He turned the steering wheel with one hand while his other hand was outside the window, holding a cigarette.
You pressed your back against the seat, your gaze lost on the road. Eren was no longer a stranger. You had shared laughs and some eye contact. But he was your plug, not your friend. How could you talk to him about your trauma, your anxieties, your flashbacks, the fear of losing your brother if you confessed that one of his friends had raped you? He was a man. Men didn't care about women's suffering.
“I guess I can't connect with my emotions anymore. So I can't appreciate art.”
“Like depression?”
“Something like that…”
“When you have these kinds of problems, you always have to talk to someone, otherwise your loved ones will suffer with you.”
“The drug dealer is pro-therapy?”
He glanced sideways at you. “I said watch your tone.”
As usual when you talked with Eren, he managed to make you smile and lighten your heart. You let out a soft sigh, tilting your head as you watched him drive. When your eyes landed on Eren, you missed a part of yourself. The part that wasn't afraid of men. The part that flirted with them confidently. The part that knew how to hold a conversation without trauma dumping. Today, only the ashes of a shattered identity remained. Maybe if Eren were ugly, you'd be able to stop being nostalgic for your old self.
“Your hair's grown,” you said softly.
“Yeah, I know, I need to cut it.”
“Wait—No! You look good like that.”
“My bad, if my favorite depressed girl said I was looking good, I should trust her.”
Your quiet laugh filled the car.
Eren brought his cigarette to his lips to take a drag, and as he exhaled the smoke, he glanced at you. “You're pretty when you smile.”
“I'm ugly when I'm not smiling?”
“I swear I don't understand women.”
“Thank you, Eren, I was joking.”
A pleasant silence hung in the car. Eren stopped at various buildings to supply his clients with weed. He seemed so comfortable in his job that you wondered why he'd ended up doing this kind of work. He must be financially comfortable, much more so than with your job as a barmaid.
“Are you going to tell me about it or not?” His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts.
“Talk about what?”
“Why do you need to spend time with me? Why did you want to come with me to my drops? Why do you look like you’ve been crying every time you get in my car?”
You didn’t want to talk about that. He wouldn’t understand. No one would. Your pain was your best-kept secret. Suffering is precious. Especially when it shapes your identity. You wanted to be more than a rape victim, more than just the label of a woman whose “no” wasn’t heard, but it felt like your life had stopped that night. You didn’t recognize yourself anymore.
“I’ve lost myself,” you repeated what you’d told Ony two months earlier. Hoping he’d understand without asking too many questions.
“And why don’t you go to therapy to find yourself again?”
“They’ll never understand.” How could you explain that you had the option of an abortion but you were too depressed to even leave your house? People will laugh at you, tell you it was your choice, that you can't complain now.
“That's what my mother used to say before I forced her ass to see a therapist. Now, she's doing much better.”
“My problem isn't something that can be fixed with therapy; I need to go back in time and prevent the event from happening.”
“You're not special, you know.” He turned his head to look at you, his eyes serious. “Everyone lives—”
You shot him a cold glare. “You don't know anything about me, so shut up before you compare my traumas to someone else's.”
His jaw tightened. “I'm not your friend, so don't look at me like that before I put shady stuff in the shit you're buying from me.” He threw his cigarette out the window. He gestured with his fingers to indicate the space between you. “The distance between us, you're the one creating it. I could become your best friend in no time if you'd stop acting all mysterious.”
“Who said I wanted to be your friend?”
“You're literally beggin’ for my attention.”
It was awfully true. You had nothing to say against it, so you drew your lips into a thin line and stared at the road.
“You're not special either,” you finally said after a minute of silence. “I don't see anyone besides my daughter, so of course I'm going to get attached to the first person who speaks to me.”
Get attached to him? You'd lost your mind. Eren didn't do serious relationships. Imagine if he started a family with someone only to suddenly die like his father and leave his wife depressed? No, Eren wasn't going to repeat what had broken his family.
“That's your first mistake. Don't get attached to me.”
His voice was harsher than expected, but it was a defense mechanism.
Your heart sank. You didn't like his tone, what he was trying to say, and you felt stupid because he was just your plug, so why did it hurt so much to hear it? He drove silently to your building. Once there, he stopped the car and stood there without speaking for a few minutes. He glanced in your direction and his heart ached at your downcast expression. He had to make apologies. He wasn't a bad guy, just awkward with his emotions.
“Your brother wants me to take care of you. I'm not good at emotional support; I'm more efficient when it comes to making money. So sorry if I say the wrong things.”
His softer voice soothed the wound his words had created. You didn't reply until you opened the car door. He grabbed your arm before you could let go.
“Call me if you want to come with me on my drops.”
You paused. “So you can tell me I’m not special and that everyone has traumas?”
“Maybe if you talked to me more, I’d stop staying stupid shit like this.”
“So you admit it’s stupid.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I’m going to avoid talking to you since I’m not allowed to get attached to you.”
His grip on your arm tightened. “I can be a close friend, but don’t ask me to be more than that.”
“I never asked for more than that. I’m not ready for that either,” you whispered before getting out of the car and walking to your building.
For the first time, Eren didn’t leave immediately and stared thoughtfully at the ghostly image of your silhouette in the street.
────────
౨ৎ four months with you ౨ৎ
Rap blasting in his headphones, Eren focused on his workout on the gym's free weight machines, working his arms with precision, slowing down to feel the burn. Eren didn't have a massive body; he had a sleeper build. Looking at him, you'd think he was just thin, but once he was naked, the definition of his muscles was impressive. He was progressing toward a more muscular physique, like Ony, who was very muscular.
“Your ass is rounder than me, lucky bastard,” Ony nudged him as Eren got up from the weight machine to clean up where he'd sat. A soft chuckle escaped Eren's mouth.
“Stop looking at my ass and find yourself a woman.”
“I have plenty of women. You're the one who needs affection, ‘Ren.”
“I'm perfectly fine.”
“Why don't you sleep with my sister?”
Eren dropped his towel, which fell to the floor, and his eyes widened. “The fuck?”
“I admit that sounds weird.”
“It’s downright weird, man.”
“I meant, why don’t you try to have a relationship with her?”
Eren frowned. “Why the hell are you forcing me to be close to her?”
“You’re the only one she talks to regularly. She barely replies to my messages. I wish she had a friend or a boyfriend, I don’t care. Just someone to talk to.”
His frown deepened. “Isn’t it a little late to be worrying about this? She went through her pregnancy alone.”
“Ren, you don’t know my sister. She just shuts down even more when you force her to talk. I prefer to give her the space she needs. She’ll come see me whenever she wants. But that doesn’t stop me from trying to help her in my own way.”
Eren picked up his towel from the floor and headed towards the locker room, followed by Ony. “‘Ren, please.’”
“I don’t understand why it’s up to me to heal your sister. It’s not my role. I’m not a therapist.”
“Okay, man, I get that. But it’s almost her birthday, and aside from you and me, she doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.”
“Not even her parents?”
“They reacted badly when she dropped out of college.”
He undressed in one of the changing room stalls and continued talking to Ony.
“So your sister went through something pretty traumatic to drop out of college, stop talking to you, and choose to go through her pregnancy alone, and you think a drug dealer like me is the solution to your problems.”
“Everyone loves you, Eren.”
“And as it should be.” A quiet laugh escaped Ony’s mouth. They showered in silence in individual shower stalls, sharing a toning shower gel.
“What do you want to do for her birthday?” Eren asked, walking beside Ony as they left the gym after changing into clean clothes. “She doesn’t seem to be in the mood for parties. And she has a baby.”
“She told me she works at a bar. I wanted to surprise her by picking her up for drinks at my place with my friends. Just Connie and Armin, not my college friends. She’s been ignoring them for a year now.”
“I know where she works. She’s asked me to come over after her shift.”
Ony smiled. “You’re doing a good job, thank you.”
“Fuck you. It’s not like that.”
“It is like that. She told me that at least three times a week, she comes with you when you’re doing your drops.”
“She’s all alone,” Eren stated, as if that alone explained why he was spending so much time with you.
“Since when do you care about lonely women?”
“It’s hard not to sympathize with someone you see crying every week. It’s not that deep.”
Ony raised questions Eren didn’t want to think about. Everything was fine. He was just your friend, your plug, and you went with him to do his drops. Sometimes you laughed, sometimes you argued, but it always ended in softer voices. Although it was fragile, there was definitely a connection. But it was up to Eren to figure out if it meant more than that. The weeks flew by. He felt like ever since he met you, his whole life revolved around you. He looked forward to spending time with you—something he couldn’t explain himself. He cared. He really cared. And he didn’t even know when it had happened during those four months.
────────
“Is Ony’s sister hot?” Connie asked enthusiastically, but he calmed down immediately when his eyes met Eren’s cold glare. “What? I’m just asking—”
“You didn’t even bag Sasha, you want the unattainable,” Eren mocked him.
“Ouch.” Connie pretended to be heartbroken.
Sitting in Eren’s car, Connie in the front, Armin and Ony in the back, they waited for you to finish your shift.
“I’m going to put on some Sexy Redd to make her feel comfortable.” Connie connected his phone to the car to play “Mad at Me.” Eren pinched the bridge of his nose and changed the music to “Go Gina” by SZA.
“That’s not her kind of music, stop your bullshit.”
At that moment, you stepped out of the bar where you worked. Eren honked the horn, and you jumped. He almost felt guilty. Recognizing Eren's car, you approached cautiously, not understanding why he was there.
Eren rolled down the car window and poked his head out to talk to you.
“Happy birthday.”
“W-What?” you stammered, your eyes widening as you saw your brother in the car.
What day was it? Damn, that's right. It was your birthday. You'd completely forgotten.
But the real question was, why was Eren there for you?
“Bring your ass over here.” He gestured toward the backseat with his thumb.
“I can't…” You stared at the tiny space that remained in the backseat, between Ony and Armin. Just imagining yourself squeezed between men made your stomach churn.
“Why can't you?” Eren asked, his voice soft.
You struggled to verbalize your anguish, the words dying on your tongue. Eren stared at you for a few seconds before turning to Connie.
“Leave the car.”
“The fuck?!”.
Eren ignored him and turned to the backseat.
“Everyone out of the car, you’re going to take the subway.”
Disappointed exclamations echoed through the vehicle, but Eren didn’t care and insisted until all his friends left. Once the trio had walked away to catch the subway, he nodded for you to come to the passenger side. Once seated in the car, you cleared your throat.
“Thank you.”
Eren didn’t reply and started the car. He really cared and he hated it.
────────
Eren was late arriving at Ony's place because he had to pick up your daughter from daycare. While he was driving, he couldn't help but steal curious glances at the baby in your arms. He was itching to ask about the father, but he didn't say anything because something in his head told him that your child's father was probably the cause of all your problems. During the evening, something didn't sit right with him. It was your birthday, yet you remained silent. Connie was trying to make it fun by playing "guess the song" videos on the TV. He was making an effort because you were his best friend's sister. But you barely reacted. You didn't touch any of the food Armin had prepared on the coffee table. He'd seen you smile and laugh before; he knew you were capable of it.
Fuck, he couldn't even focus on anything else. You flooded his thoughts. Was the baby the problem? Were you having trouble getting out of "mom mode"? He was about to do something crazy. After spending the evening watching you while sitting on the couch smoking a blunt, he got up to sit next to you and nudged your arm.
“Give me the baby.”
You looked at him like he had multiple heads.
"Give me the baby," he repeated, his voice gruff, barely responsive because of the weed. "Go have fun with Connie."
"I don't want to have fun—"
"Too bad, I want you to."
He leaned over to wrap his arms around your daughter, and reluctantly you let him hold her. He struggled for a few moments to figure out how to wrap his arms around the baby, but once he was secure against her, he watched her in silence. She had large, curious brown eyes that seemed to react to every sudden movement, so he had to touch her gently. He raised one hand to rub his index finger against her cheek. She smiled, and Eren fought the urge not to smile too, faced with the bundle of tenderness in his arms.
He looked up, and as usual, his eyes always landed on the same person who had occupied his thoughts these past few months—you. You were playfully bickering with Connie because he was deliberately talking so you wouldn't hear the music playing to guess the name. You radiated so much energy; it was a joy to see. Eren tried not to think about the uncomfortable feeling that threatened to ruin the moment and overwhelm him. He knew he was doing something pretty special for a girl he didn't know well enough to do that.
But he felt like he knew you. He could tell when you were anxious, what might make you laugh, what might annoy you. He knew what creates a cute pout on your lips or a glare. He really cared. He hoped this day would be a good memory for you.
────────
౨ৎ six months with you ౨ৎ
The months flew by, and you needed to buy bigger clothes for your daughter. You worked harder and harder to cover your expenses, but the more exhausted you became, the harder it was to control your anxiety. Your fear of men was complex. Normally, you could never have had such a special relationship with Eren because he was a man. A very masculine man, at that. It was only because he was your plug that you had managed to overcome your fear.
But while you were working, it was difficult not to panic when older men hit on you. Your rape hadn't just destroyed your trust in your loved ones; it had also destroyed your trust in all of humanity. So any man could be a threat. You needed to improve your coping mechanisms because they weren't working anymore. Every time you took a step toward healing, you took twenty steps back.
Your birthday had been amazing. You hadn't laughed that much in a long time. But after that day, your daily grind had resumed with even more intensity. The baby's crying, the diaper changes, the breastfeeding. All that work for a baby you didn't even want.
“Hurry up, there are a lot of customers!!” your boss clapped his hands, and you rushed to grab the trays of beer and bring them to the order tables.
You had to pull yourself together. This month, you'd had six panic attacks in front of customers, and your boss had said you were fired the next time. You handed out beers to each table, forcing yourself to smile to get tips. But you were barely taking care of yourself these days; your clothes were simple and not the kind of revealing outfits men liked.
“Oh, huh! It's been a while.”
You froze at the voice beside you. When you slowly turned your head, your face crumpled as you saw the college friends you'd been running from for over a year because they were all friends with the traitor.
“Hi… I…” Your grip on the tray of empty glasses became increasingly hesitant as your hands trembled. Your mind flashed through images of the party where everything had gone wrong, and you could no longer focus on the real world.
“˚ʚ♡ɞ˚! Order for table 5.”
You were unable to move, paralyzed. You could feel your hands on you, on your mouth, your weight pressing you against the mattress.
“˚ʚ♡ɞ˚, are you okay?”
You took a few steps, but your mind was still on that grim night. You didn't notice you bumped into a customer, glasses shattering on the floor. Your boss yelled at you, but you stared at the broken glass, a stark reminder of your current life.
────────
“If you want a car ride while you cry, I can do that if you want.” Eren offered in an unusually gentle voice.
He wasn't always sure how to handle the situation; usually, when you came to see him, you were done crying. But the second you sat down in the passenger seat that night, you burst into tears. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, letting you express your feelings uninterrupted.
“I'm so sorry.”
“I don't mind.”
“I feel like I'm a burden to everyone and worrying everyone for nothing. I always make the wrong choices. I can't stand ruining my life anymore.”
“You're doing your best—”
“Eren, I got fired today. I deliberately took a job at that bar because it was far from the university I was at,” you sniffled. “Now I have to find a job quickly—”
“How much money do you need?” He cut in. “How much and how long?”
You were frowned upon, confused, but thought quickly. “Eren, I don’t want to deal drugs!”
“The fuck are you talking about?” he chuckled darkly. “You’re too fragile to do that. I wanted to pay your bills.”
This time, you paused. “W-What?”
“It’s not a big deal.” He started the car and focused on the road as if he wasn’t saying crazy things.
“Did you snort cocaine?!”
His lips curved into an amused smile. “Nah, not into that. Only the greenery.”
“Eren—”
“You’re a depressed single mother and my friend’s sister. I’m not going to leave you in the lurch.”
The truth was, Eren didn’t know any other way. His entire adolescence had been put on hold to help his mother, so your situation mirrored his own childhood. You didn't argue about how well you could manage on your own because you knew it would be stupid to refuse such an offer. You lowered your head, swallowing hard.
“Thank you, but…”
“But what?” he sighed.
“I don't really understand the relationship we have.”
“Me neither.”
Neither of you spoke for a few moments before you brought up the subject of your job again.
“I want to work from home, I don't want to go out anymore.”
“Why?”
You couldn't tell him. You could only tell him that now that you'd run into his friends, there was a possibility of…
“I'm scared,” you said simply.
“Okay.” He tilted his head. “My mother had something similar when my father died. She wanted to stay constantly in the house that had sheltered her husband and was unable to leave it, even to go shopping. I was the one who did it.”
“It must have been a heavy responsibility to bear, no matter your age.”
His eyebrows knitted. He didn't like receiving pity.
“Sometimes our loved ones need us, and that's what community is all about.”
“Pro-therapy, pro-community, I think I've got the first ethical plug right here.”
“Don't mock me,” he side-eyed you.
“I'm just joking, ‘Ren.”
He liked the sound of his nickname on your tongue.
“What kind of job do you want back home?”
“I've always wanted to be a writer.” Your dreamy eyes stared at the road as he drove. “I've always preferred novels to movies. Every time I finished a good movie, I was sad that there weren't any novels adapted because I want to know what the characters are thinking. I feel like I'm part of the story. So, ever since I learned to hold a pencil, I've been writing stories. But since my depression, I haven't been able to write anymore.”
“Why don’t you write a memoir about your life as a mother with depression?”
You burst into incredulous laughter. “No one will want to read that.”
“I will.”
“Please. I’m not even thirty yet; I’m not going to write a memoir at my age.”
“Or write poetry if a novel is too difficult.”
“I only want to write about these sad subjects right now.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes that’s what you feel like doing.”
“Why do I get the impression you’re speaking as an artist?”
He turned his head to look at you, a deep crease between his eyes.
“What? A drug dealer isn’t allowed to be interested in art?”
“You know damn well I don’t judge you like that.”
“I hope so.” His features softened.
“What do you do outside of your job?”
“Gym and drawing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I always wanted to be a tattoo artist.”
Eren rarely talked about himself, so you enjoyed learning more about him; it was like a special gift he was giving you.
“And why don’t you pursue your dreams?”
“It’s hard to leave illegality when you get a taste of money.”
“You don’t pursue your dreams because you want money?” You repeated, judgment in your voice.
“I thought you wouldn’t judge me?” He smiled.
“It’s just that I’d kill to be in your situation. You have the ability to achieve your dream, but you’re holding yourself back for purely capitalist reasons.”
“Grow up poor and frustrated from having nothing, and you’ll see how hard it is to leave abundance once you’ve experienced it.”
“Right, I… I don’t know what it’s like… But Eren, one day, you’ll have to make this dream come true.”
“I will when you publish your first novel.”
You glared at him. “You’re not fair.”
“Never, never, baby.”
Your mouth opened slightly when he called you “baby” in his deep voice. You deliberately ignored the fluttering heat in your stomach.
Like every time you talked to Eren, you felt better. You weren’t so worried about the future anymore.
Was that really a good thing? Could you really trust this man? Hadn’t you forgotten how traumatized you were by the traitor’s betrayal? What if Eren was being nice to you on purpose, only to rape you when he got the chance, just like the traitor? Your heart pounding, you watched Eren drive, unsure whether to shield yourself from his kindness or welcome him with open arms.
────────
“Sorry about the mess,” you shyly apologized, letting Eren—who was carrying your grocery bags—go ahead.
“I don’t mind.” He shook his head, but surprise flashed across his face at the amount of plastic waste on the living room floor. “Well…”
“Yeah…” Ashamed, you stared at your shoes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble cleaning?”
“Why would I tell you? You’re not going to help me clean up…”
“Of course I will, go and rest, I’ll take care of it.” He placed the shopping bags in the open-plan kitchen/living room.
You wanted to refuse, but you’d had another sleepless night because of your daughter’s crying. You desperately needed a nap—your eyes were so heavy. You lay down on the sofa and watched him pick up all the trash before drifting off to sleep. When you woke up, Eren was no longer in the living room, and he had put away the groceries he’d bought. You stretched and looked for him in the apartment. Thinking he’d left, you went to your daughter’s room, where she was crying. Eren was standing there, trying to rock her.
“She’s hungry,” you explained, taking him from your arms. You carried her to the living room and sat on the sofa while Eren was following you. You pulled your right breast out of your t-shirt to breastfeed the baby. The soft sucking sounds filled the room.
"Why are your eyes so empty when you look at your daughter?" He sat next to you.
His question unsettled you. You'd never noticed before.
"What do you mean?"
"Was the pregnancy planned?"
You tensed. Was this the moment to acknowledge the elephant in the room?
"Not really..."
"Do you love her?"
Eren wasn't trying to be mean or intrusive; he genuinely wanted to know about your relationship with your daughter.
“I… I'm just doing what I have to do as a mother to meet all her needs,” you managed to say, despite the slight tremor in your voice. You would never admit to him that you had considered killing her.
Eren's voice grew serious. “You take care of her physical needs, okay, but if you don't love her, she'll know it.”
“How is that supposed to help me?” you replied defensively.
“If you don't love her,” he stared at the infant in your arms, “you can give her to a family who will love her more than you do.”
You tightened your embrace around your baby. “I've thought about that. But I'm afraid I'll regret it. Even if I hate her now, maybe I'll love her later.”
You couldn't understand what you felt for this child. You hated her; she represented your trauma. Every time you saw her, you were reminded of your rape, but at the same time… There was a kind of protectiveness, hard to explain, that prevented you from abandoning this child. Because this baby was innocent and hadn't asked for any of this.
“So you admit you hate her.”
“Yeah.”
He let out a heavy breath. “I don't understand why you don't want to get help from a therapist. You don't have to go through this alone.”
You looked away, your face tense.
“Look at me,” Eren said softly, brushing a lock of curly locks away from your face.
“You can't understand.”
“I pay your bills, baby.”
“And what?” Your voice grew hoarse.
“It means that I’m part of your life, yes or no, so I have the capacity to understand what you’re feeling.”
“You’re the one who told me not to get attached to you, and now you want me to let you in more and more.”
“I said I would take care of you, not be your boyfriend.”
You looked up at him, your jaw clenched.
“You’re doing everything a boyfriend does.”
“Except for one thing.” His intense gaze landed on your parted lips before moving up to lock with yours. “I’ve been a good boy, right? I didn’t fuck with you when you were so needy and lonely.”
He couldn’t imagine how his words hurt you. He was talking crudely about intimacy between you, without knowing that it was your greatest fear right now. The truth was, Eren had never been in a serious relationship, so he didn't realize how harsh his words had been. That's how he talked to women he wanted to sleep with; he'd never really been with anyone he cared about before you.
“You're mean.” Your eyes stung. “Don't ever talk about me that way again.”
“I can't cuss with you, baby?” He cocked his head to one side. “Tell me what else I shouldn't do. There must be things I need to learn about you.”
He said “you,” but you both knew he meant “body.” He was flirting with you awkwardly, and you didn't know how to react. The way he spoke hurt, but you couldn't deny the effect his deep voice had on you, and the cologne enveloping you made you feel like you were bathing in his essence.
The situation was strange because you had one breast exposed, but his eyes weren't on it; they were fixed on your mouth.
“The fact that you didn't take advantage of my vulnerability is the bare minimum. Anyway, I would never have let you touch me.”
“Are you sure about that?” He moved even closer. “Maybe because you were so lonely, you asked me to keep your body warm.”
You focused on your baby so as not to meet his gaze and not to weaken under the pressure of the sensual atmosphere that had been created.
“Absolutely not.”
“I think you're mistaken.”
How could you tell him that you were terrified of intimacy without revealing your secret?
“I'm not that kind of girl, Eren.”
“I hope you'll show me what kind of girl you are one day.”
You sank back into the sofa, biting the inside of your cheek. Anxiety mixed with shyness, and you didn't know what to say.
“Since when do you see me like this?”
“Now. I'm an impulsive man.”
“I think you should find some women to have fun with. I don't want to be used.”
“Why do you have such a negative view of sex? I want to please you.”
The flashbacks flooded back. Your eyes watered. You were pathetic. You spent all your time crying and being a burden to Eren.
“Listen, Eren, it's very kind of you to do the grocery shopping and cleaning, but I'd like you to go home.”
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No, it's just…” you sniffled.
Tell him. Tell Ony. File a complaint. Do something. Don't be pathetic.
“I think it would be better if we stopped talking.”
Eren flinched. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. Absolutely not.
“You’re tired, you should rest a little longer.” He patted your arm.
“No, Eren, I’m lucid. I bring you nothing. I give you nothing. I only take, take, and take. I’m not ready to heal, I’m not doing anything to get better, I’m only bringing you down. A friendship is supposed to be beneficial for both of us.”
“It is beneficial for me. I have fun when we talk. I love taking care of you. You’re my friend.”
“We aren’t friends, you want to fuck me.”
“Friends with benefits.”
“You’ll never have my benefits.”
His lips quirked up. “Don’t challenge me.”
“And in any case, our relationship isn’t healthy. You feel useful helping me because you have a savior complex.”
“That’s just how I was raised. I’m the man who takes care of his family, the man who provides, the man who protects. When my father died, the responsibility fell on me.”
“I’m not your family, Eren. And that’s a misogynistic way of thinking.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be cared for. I want to be useful to my loved ones. That’s how I operate.” He played with one of your curly locks.
“I want to love you too,” you whispered.
“I told you, ‘Don’t get attached to me.’ I don’t want your love.”
“So I should accept all your care without giving you anything in return?”
“Yeah, princess treatment. You don’t have to do anything.”
Your heart was pounding. You desperately wanted to believe it, but scenarios of him betraying you flooded your mind.
“I don't know, ‘Ren… I—”
“Just try it for a few months, and if you don't like it, I'm out of your life.”
Your daughter started coughing, showing she'd had enough milk, and you tucked your breast into your top.
“Okay.” You tried to smile.
“I'll try to find you a therapist who makes sessions at your place.” Eren stood up and put his hands in the pockets of his baggy navy jeans.
“I don't—”
“Shut your mouth.”
Your gazes challenged each other for a few seconds before you turned your head away, and Eren smirked.
“Have a good night,” he said before leaving the apartment.
What was this feeling of hope that all was not lost? Was this how you fall in love? But was it healthy? The relationship was so unbalanced. Did you have the right?
────────
౨ৎ eight months with you ౨ৎ
You and Eren had found a routine. Every Saturday, when Eren came to give you your weed, he'd run errands and clean while you took a nap. Every time you woke up, Eren had Neusa in his arms, and it gave you a strange feeling in your stomach. You avoided talking about the fact that he treated her like she was his daughter. The rest of the week, he made his drops, drew, and spent time with his friends. You texted a lot. You made an effort to ask as many questions as possible about Eren's life, since you were the center of your relationship with him. Eren had found a therapist who came every Wednesday for therapy sessions. Their name was Hange; they were a bit eccentric, but they didn't press the issue when you didn't want to talk about the root of your problems. The therapy focused on how to manage your anxiety.
There was so much to work on within yourself, but you weren't ready yet. Maybe you never will. Eren said it was okay if you never spoke, and you tried to believe him. You were brainstorming your novels when there was a knock at the door. You left your desk to open it and found Eren, his eyes red and his hands in his hoodie pockets. You might have thought he'd been smoking, but his eyes weren't half-closed, and the puffiness told you he'd been crying. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for him.
"Yo," he greeted you, his voice gruff.
"It's not Saturday." You let him into the apartment.
"Do I need a specific day to see my favorite girl?" Butterflies fluttered in your stomach the way he was referring to his favorite girl.
"Where is my second favorite girl?" He looked around the living room.
“She’s asleep, leave her alone. You carry her more than I do.”
He let out a quiet laugh, then flopped onto the couch, spreading his legs. He patted his thighs with a look that said he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. You sat on your lap and he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth, then rested your head in the crook of your neck. A heavy breath escaped his mouth, as if he was holding back all his sorrows before crossing the threshold and could finally let them out.
“Why do you look like you’ve been crying?”
“Rough day,” he simply replied. You ran your hand through his hair, untangling a few strands, and he closed his eyes at your touch.
“I couldn’t go see my friends. The last time they saw me cry, I heard about it for years.”
Your body shook from your giggle, and he glared at you.
“So I figured I could go see the certified CEO of tears; at least you wouldn’t judge me.”
“It’s true that I cry a lot,” you admitted, your voice guilty.
“It means you have a lot of emotions to express, which is healthy. I feel a lot too, but it manifests in my anger. It’s no fun.”
You silently stroked his hair for a few moments before he spoke.
“It’s my dad’s birthday.”
Oh. Everything made sense.
You cupped his face in your hands to get a better look. With his bright eyes and sad expression, he looked like a little puppy deserving all the attention in the world.
“It’s ridiculous. I’m fine all year, and then there are days like this, when I feel like the world has collapsed.”
“Hange told me the body remembers the date of the trauma.”
“I’m not traumatized. You are.”
You pouted. “It sounds like you’re talking about an illness.”
“Yeah, so if you could avoid infecting me, thanks.”
You mock-punched him, and his lips curved into a small smile.
“You look pretty when you pout. I might intentionally reproduce that expression on your face in the future.”
“I thought I was prettier when I smiled.”
“You’re the prettiest anyway, no debate.”
He nuzzled your neck, inhaling your comforting scent.
“You want to talk about your father?”
“Nah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just being with you makes me feel good.”
That was enough to soothe your worried heart. You stayed cuddling for a while before Neusa woke up crying. You flinched, her cries triggering you as always, but Eren kissed you on the temple.
“I’ll take care of it.”
He got up to go to Neusa's room, and you took the opportunity to change into your pajamas and turn off all the lights in the apartment. Sitting on your bed, you waited for Eren, rolling blunts. He finally knocked on the door, his hands in his jeans pockets, his gaze fixed on the floor; he almost looked shy.
"I'm sorry to ask, but can I sleep over tonight? I don't really want to be alone."
You patted the spot next to you without saying anything.
He sat up and looked at your blunts strangely.
"Why are they so fat?"
"It hit faster," you teased.
"Right, right, now you're an expert. Don't forget you always dropped the filter first."
You scoffed before giving him a blunt. With a lighter, he lit it and took a few drags before lying down to stare at the ceiling where the smoke from his mouth rose.
“Imagine you build a family with someone and then you die, and it’s your first child who has to deal with what you left behind. Everything you worked so hard for—gone.”
“I think I’ll be very sad but very proud of my child in the afterlife.”
A bitter smile formed on his lips.
“I doubt my father is proud of me. He was a doctor. Now I sell addictions to people.”
“I think the end justifies the means.”
“Me too.” He passed you the blunt so you could take a drag. “That’s why I can’t start a family.”
“Are you afraid of abandoning them when you die?”
“I guess so.”
“What if you die of old age? You’ll be able to see your grandchildren and everyone will be happy?”
“It’s precisely because I can’t choose that I prefer to avoid disaster.” He glanced at you. “And you, what’s your greatest fear?”
Being betrayed again. You looked away, your eyes shifting.
“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes, but there was no malice in his voice. “At least tell Hange.”
“No, I want to tell you, but…”
“But what?”
“Eren, if I told someone what happened, it would be admitting I’m an idiot.”
“Connie is an idiot, and he’s perfectly fine with it.”
“Not an idiot like him. An idiot like… a victim.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what’s so idiotic about being a victim?”
“There’s no value in being on the side of those who didn’t fight.”
He pulled your arm so you fell onto his chest. Your curly hair brushed against his face, and he gazed into your eyes.
“˚ʚ♡ɞ˚.”
“Yeah?” you replied shyly.
“No matter what happened to you, you shouldn’t be ashamed or think you’re worthless just because you couldn’t defend yourself. Fight or flight response, Hange didn’t you talk about that?”
“Just because you explain it rationally doesn’t change how I feel.” Your upper lip quivered.
“Do you want to cry?”
“I’m not pathetic, stop seeing me like that.” Your eyes welled up in spite of yourself.
He cupped your face, pulling it close until your noses touched.
“Cry, I’ll drink them in.”
You chuckled, your shoulders shaking. “You’re so embarrassing, oh my god.”
A tear fell into the space between his nose and lips, and he stuck out his tongue to lick it. You stared at him, dumbfounded.
“See?”
“That was very corny, Eren. Totally unsexy.”
“Because you usually find me sexy?” Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you tried to keep a normal, unflustered expression.
“No.”
“Liar.”
He licked your lips. Your eyes widened, a heat crackling in your lower abdomen.
“Eren…”
“Hm?”
“You’re weird.”
“I want you.”
He looked into your eyes, deadass. This was the day you'd been dreading. The day he'd confess the desire between you, the day you'd be forced to refuse him because of your fears, even though you were dying to discover who he was in an intimate setting. If you'd known him for two years right away, you would have undressed for him in a single glance. But you weren't the same person you used to be. Or at least, that's what you thought.
"I already told you I wasn't that kind of girl."
"Just a kiss, baby. I've been a good boy lately."
You stared down at his plump lips, your mouth watering at the thought of kissing him passionately. What was stopping you? It was just a kiss. Nothing more. You didn't have to be afraid of Eren. You were safe. Your lips brushed for a few seconds before you pressed them against his. Just a kiss. He traced your upper lip with the edge of his tongue before slithering it into your mouth, sliding it onto yours. Just a kiss. He groaned into the kiss as your tongues tangled together. Just a kiss. So focused on feeling him make out with you, you forgot to breathe, so when he pulled away, you took a deep breath.
You looked at each other in silence for a moment, panting, before devouring each other's mouths again. His hands slipped under your t-shirt, caressing your sides, digging into the generous padding, kneading the pillowy flesh.
"So cute," he murmured against you. He liked having something to grab; he'd already noticed your ample curves before and was thrilled to finally be able to touch you. His rough hands on your soft skin made you shiver, and you missed what it felt like to be touched by someone. Missed what it felt like to be desired, to be seen as the most beautiful person on earth for a moment. Your brain on autopilot, your lips moved in sync, his tongue playing with yours as he gripped your thick waist.
Not satisfied with the position, he rolled you onto your back to lie on top of you, his right hand on the headboard, his left elbow beside your ear. He ground his hips against yours to make you feel his erection, the friction fanning a fire in the pit of your stomach. You were nothing but sweat, heat, and desire as you wrapped your legs around his waist and rocked your lower body against his. He pulled away to run hot, open-mouthed kisses over your skin, tickling you, and he smiled against your skin. The kiss had pressed a button in your brain, releasing fragments of your former self, a confident girl who knew how to enjoy herself with boys.
It wasn't until he pulled off your t-shirt, until the cold air hit your skin, that you snapped out of your trance, and your defenses reformed with lightning speed. As if regaining consciousness, your gaze lost its fiery glint, your body began to tremble, and you avoided his gaze, covering your chest with your hands. He lifted his head from your neck.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, “what’s bothering you?”
Your words died on your tongue. He tilted his head, his eyes gentle. He wanted to choose the right words. He had connected the dots, and he had a pretty good idea what had happened. You’d have to be blind not to understand.
“You know, can you tell me anything?”
You nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “
You know I would never hurt you?”
In the fog that was the inside of your head, Eren’s deep voice brought you back to reality. It grounded you.
You timidly raised your head toward him and nodded again. He pulled off your pajama shorts, taking your panties with them. He leaned down to trail kisses from your neck to your stomach, taking care to suck on your brown nipples, goosebumps erupting with every lick and press of his lips. Reaching your hips, he tried to spread your legs, but they were firmly closed.
“Please, baby, I will make you feel so good.” He kissed your thighs, waiting for you. You slowly opened your legs, Eren nibbled the inside of your thighs, and moved up to your tight heat to part your lips with his fingers. In front of your tender cunt, he was almost in love; she was so pretty, she needed his care.
His tongue caressed your wet folds, fanning the flames that threatened to consume your entire being. Placing your thighs on his shoulders for better positioning, he sank his tongue inside, twisting around at a slow pace, always gently, as if your most intimate parts were sacred. He collected your arousal in his mouth, his eyes rolling back with the sweet taste. There was something intimate about having your taste in his mouth, your scent enveloping his face.
You were so withdrawn, keeping your precious secrets hidden in your heart, safe from others. He wanted you to let go, to savor this moment without your inner demons making you doubt whether you deserved this pleasure or not. He pushed his tongue further, touching you in hidden recesses deep inside. You stared at the ceiling, your heart pounding. You were with a man, in your bed, doing things you never thought you'd do again because of your fears. Everything was okay; you could allow yourself to enjoy yourself. It was okay if your legs trembled; Eren seemed not to mind. You got this.
He explored every inch of your pussy, slurping the slick leaking from your slit. He knew he was good at this, but he didn't know if you liked what was happening because you were still. Often, eating out was a passionate act with the giver devouring his partner and the woman frantically rocking her hips in their face. But your body was inert; you made no sound. He pulled his mouth away from you to raise his head.
“You good?” he murmured.
You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “I can’t cum, Eren.”
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean you can’t cum?”
Everyone can cum, right? Why can’t you?
“I… Something happened.”
Her eyes saddened. “Baby, who hurt you so badly? There’s nothing you can do.”
The feeling of being a burden, a useless and broken woman, washed over you again. The urge to cry returned, but you were tired of being a crybaby. It was embarrassing. You wanted to be strong, someone Eren could be proud to have around, not the broken girl he helped because he’d been raised with a savior complex.
“I’m sorry, Eren, you can leave if—”
“Hell no.” The tips of her fingers teased your entrance. “It’s okay if you don’t reach your peak, we can still have a good time. The most important thing is to share something.”
This was a bit unfamiliar to Eren. When he slept with women, the goal was for both of them to orgasm, and then it was over. He'd never truly shared anything as intense as this, where he had to take care of someone and simply enjoy the moment without performing. Enjoy the present moment. He'd never really done that before. His life was a constant race for money; he didn't have time to rest. He plunged two fingers into your glistening flesh, the palms of his hands facing the ceiling so he could curl them inside and reach your sweet spot. You tensed at the sensation of a foreign object penetrating you, a flashback to when the traitor had thrust his fingers inside you, ignoring your distress and your "no."
Eren noticed your panicked eyes and slowed the pace of his thrusting. He lowered his head to slide his tongue over your clit, wrapping his lips around the sluice bud to suck it. A soft fire snaked through you, awakening every fiber of your being. You closed your eyes tightly, your body heating up. You arched your back, your breath becoming ragged at the divine sensation of his tongue on your sensitive flesh and his fingers pumping in and out of you. It wasn't pointless. Even if something inside you was broken, it wasn't useless. There was meaning in doing this.
“That's an expression I've never seen,” he whispered, his warm breath on your cunt, “what do I have to do to make you keep it forever?” The thrusts of his fingers became more intense, the squelch of pussy filling the room. A moan tore from your lips. “Tell me, baby. What's your favorite sex position?”
“Currently or when I was normal?”
“You’re normal to me. The best kind.”
“I think…” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to remember a time when fear wasn’t your primary emotion. “I liked when my legs were on a man’s shoulders.” Eren pulled away from you and removed his t-shirt, revealing a body covered in black ink, the contours of his bulging muscles making your mouth water. The rest of his clothes fell to the floor, and once he stood naked before you, like a Greek god, you bent your knees and spread your legs a little wider. Eren followed your movement with his eyes, his lips curving into a smirk.
“You want me?” His voice dropped a few octaves, becoming husky.
How could you tell him you found him sexy with his burning green eyes contrasting with the darkness of his hair and neck tattoos? That he so masculine next to you that it made you long for a better relationship with your femininity? You stared at him, your gaze shy, hoping he would figure it out on his own. He grabbed one of your calves to pull your ass to the edge of the bed, then slid his hands down to your hips to lift your lower body, bringing it closer to his erection. Lying down, the position allowed you to glimpse his pink tip nudging your entrance, his imposing size, and your heart gripped with terror. What if Eren were to transform into a monster? Shatter your trust? Betray you? Fuck you without regard for your boundaries and fears? Ignore your "no" and your "stop"?
"I'm not him," he reassured you, feeling the tremors in your body. "You're safe and cared for. I'll stop if you're uncomfortable." He took your legs, placing your heels on his shoulders, and turned his head to kiss one of your calves. “Do you trust me?”
You wanted to say yes, that he was the only man who made your heart beat since your rape, but the words wouldn't come. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you rushed to dry them because you didn't want to be a crybaby.
“Stop that shit,” he gritted out, “you know you can cry with me. I won't judge.” He wanted to bend down to kiss you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, to make love to you missionary-style to reassure you, but he was afraid his weight on you would trigger you.
He didn't know what he was doing. He had never slept with a woman who had been raped. He had never been very gentle in bed, especially with one-night stands that didn't require emotional intimacy. But you, you needed all his attention and affection. He felt that if he held you wrong, you'd collapse, and in a way, he was waiting for you to do that so you'd see he was capable of catching you.
"Let it out," he continued, "if you can't enjoy sex, at least use this moment as an outlet." He placed his hand on one of your thick thighs pressed against his sculpted abdomen. "I'll start, is that okay with you, baby?"
Consent is sexy, consent is godly, so why do you feel miserable? Eren was definitely rough in bed. It suited his vibe. You didn't like him making an effort for you; it made you feel fragile when you wanted to be a strong woman. You gave him a slow nod. He moved his hips forward, burying the tip inside, cursing under his breath because you were so tight, he hadn't prepared you enough. He looked so beautiful like this, his gaze focused, brows furrowed, his body tense with the feeling that he couldn't go any deeper now. You wanted to devour him. He pulled out, a guilty expression on his face.
"I didn't do enough foreplay—"
"You can fuck me, Eren." You sniffled. "I want you."
"Promise me you won't tell this to another man." With the slow drag of his dick, he penetrated you, stretching you to his size. He closed his eyes and sighed at the sensation of the damp, tight heat enveloping him. “Keep saying shit like this. Just for me.”
As the roll of his hips fed into you, you whispered praise about him, how sexy you found him, how you wanted him to take you, how good it felt to feel him inside you. His ego swelled, and his lips quirked up, but he remained silent, flooded with your verbal desire. Tears streamed down your cheeks, flashbacks flooding your mind, but talking to him kept you grounded in the moment. He didn't tell you to stop crying, that you were ruining the mood, that you were weak. He accepted vulnerability, making it his own.
Every thrust of his hips filled you, spreading a warmth throughout your being that cradled you. The slick spilling from your cunt added a new sound atmosphere as the wet noises of your union filled the room. After a while, you were no longer able to speak, the hot coil in your lower belly winding tighter and tighter, like an insatiable hunger devouring your body. Your lips parted, you panted, your ample chest rising and falling, your breathy moans mingling with his groans. The green of his eyes was stormy with desire as he took of the sight of your sweaty body being taken by him. Everything was so right, everything was so good.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice rapsy.
“I can’t cum, it’s no use.”
“I don’t think I asked for your opinion. Touch yourself.”
Your hand, which was clinging to the sheets, descended to the feverish warmth of your inner thighs, so that your fingers made circles on your throbbing bud. His gaze darkened and he picked up the pace—his movements still gentle.
“Touch your chest.”
Your other hand began to knead one of your breasts. “L-Like this?”
He bit his lower lip, staring at you. The sight made his cock twitch inside you. “I’m going to finish soon if you keep teasing me like this.”
You chuckled. “I’m doing what you want me to do…”
“Don’t laugh at me before I fuck you like a slut.”
Fear flashed across your face and he smirked.
“Awwww,” he teased, “sorry, baby.”
You moved your foot to try and kick him in the face, but he kissed your toes. He angled his hips deeper, and a gasp escaped your mouth at how full of him you were. An electric urgency coursed beneath his skin, awakening every crease, every hollow, urging him to fuck you faster. “E-Eren, wait,” you breathed out as his thrusts quickened, your sobs intensifying.
“I’m not him,” he rasped, rocking his hips, his insides igniting with a gentle fire. “You feel it? How good I fill you? How good I fuck you? I can feel your pussy pulsing around me.”
“I’m scared…”
“Of what? Where’s the danger?”
“I don’t know,” you sobbed, “I don’t feel good.”
Eren stopped abruptly. He released your hips and looked at you with concern as you curled up on the bed, your hands covering your face. Everything wasn’t right, everything wasn’t good. Eren ran a hand through his hair. What should he do? Letting you cry because you needed to, or trying to comfort you? But what could he say to erase such a violent fear? He got dressed and left the room. From cleaning your place so often, he knew where most of your things were. He took out a glass, filled it with juice, grabbed a packet of candy, and went back into the bedroom. He sat down next to you and stroked your back.
“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed.
“I don’t see anyone offended in the room.”
He put the glass and candy on the floor before pulling you back close to his chest. His erection was aching, but reassuring you was more important. You were probably thinking you were a burden, a miserable woman. You needed to hear that you weren’t any of that. He kissed the top of your head.
“You’re not broken, just a bit damaged.”
“It’s been two years, and I’m still the same.”
“People suffer from their trauma for decades and decades, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚. You’re at the very beginning of your healing.”
You sniffled, snuggling against his chest. “But I have a baby, I can’t continue to be such a mess.”
“You didn’t even want the baby, how do you expect to be okay?”
“I should have had an abortion,” you murmured.
He didn’t judge you; he took your pain and held it close. “You can still put her in an orphanage.”
“No.” You nuzzled his chest. “Imagine her being abused by a family…”
“You say you hate her, but you’re very protective.”
“I don’t want to talk about her. Just hold me.”
“Okay.”
In the following weeks, Eren slept with you every Saturday. It wasn’t easy. You had to find positions that wouldn't trigger you, and he had to manage to stay aroused even if you were crying against him. But he was making an effort for you; he knew you needed that space to express yourself. You didn't really talk about being a couple, even though your relationship was particularly ambiguous. Sleeping with Eren had unlocked something within you, and for the first time in your life, you had dared to talk to Hange about your rape. The healing process was only just beginning.
────────
౨ৎ ten months with you ౨ৎ
“What if he rapes me now that he has access to my body?” The tremor in your voice didn't go unnoticed. Hange adjusted her glasses and leaned over the table, crossing her arms, her eyes serious.
“What if everything happened and you'd met a charming man who loved you? Did you consider that possibility before you first thought of the catastrophe?”
“Eren doesn't love me. He's just used to taking care of his mother and sister, so he's incapable of leaving a woman alone in distress. He's got an ego. He likes to be in control of my life.”
“It's true that your relationship is unbalanced right now, but there's no guarantee that won't change with time.”
You looked down, sniffing. “I’d like to have a relationship with him once I’ve regained my personality. Once I have something to offer him. I’m just a shadow of my former self these days.”
The worst thing about trauma is that the day the incident happens, everything collapses for you, but the world keeps turning. You’ve lost a part of yourself, but it’s just another random Monday for everyone else. You continue to sink, but capitalist society wants you to remain productive; you don’t have time to wallow in self-pity. And God forbid, PTSD takes control of your entire personality; you’ll be seen as annoying.
“I’m trying to write right now, but I’m struggling. All the writing advice I get tells me it’s wrong to write trauma-defined characters and that they need to have a lovable side personality so the reader connects with them, but… What if the trauma makes you weak, miserable, detestable? The only times trauma completely transforms a person is often with the villains in fiction.” You raised your head, a passionate glint in your eyes like every time you talked about writing. “I want to write a character like me.”
Hange’s eyes softened. ‘L$D’ by A$AP ROCKY played in your kitchen, the dreamy soft song filling the room. Hange always played music to make her patients feel comfortable.
“Why don’t you write a memoir? Write everything you feel in a journal, and once you think you’ve made peace with your past, write a memoir.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever make peace with my past…”
“You never thought you’d sleep with a man again, but look at you now. Getting slutted out every week.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks as your flustered expression made Hange laugh.
The rest of the therapy session went smoothly. A few minutes after Hange left your apartment, Eren knocked on the door.
“Sup.” He was standing there, hands in the pockets of his baggy navy jeans, his bicep tattoos standing out even more against his white t-shirt. You’d let him kiss you against the door if you could.
“Hey,” you smiled softly. “You need something? It’s not Saturday.”
“I’ve been thinking about something. I think it would do you good to have some friends. You don’t see anyone all week except me, it’s not healthy.”
“But I’m afraid to leave the house…”
“That’s why I’ll come with you. You won’t be alone,” he promised, nodding his chin, “go get dressed and take Neusa with you.”
You went to do as he asked, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your stomach and the fact that he wanted to improve your social life.
────────
Eren's car stopped in front of a mysterious building, its architecture modern and its windows large. Eren took Neusa in his arms and walked you to the entrance without giving you any information. Once inside, while Eren spoke to the receptionist, you observed the multitude of posters on the walls, and a flash of understanding crossed your face as you read their contents. It was an association for women who were victims of sexual abuse. All types of sexual abuse, whether incest, prostitution, or marital rape. The association opened its doors to any woman whose "no" had been ignored, to any woman who had been pressured into saying "yes," or to any woman who thought it was normal to sleep with someone older while still a minor.
You stared at Eren's back, biting your lower lip. What had you done to deserve this? All you did was cry and be needy. As if he could hear your thoughts, he turned around.
“They have support groups and a social media group for those who need to talk more. There’s one starting in five minutes in the door on the left. I’ll wait for you in the waiting room.”
“Eren, why are you doing all this? I’m not even—”
“Shut up, you’re going to ruin my mood.”
Eren ignored you and went to sit down and play with Neusa. There was something comical about watching this muscular, tattooed man play with a little baby. You could hear your daughter’s soft coos, and your heart swelled.
The support group session lasted a good hour. There were all kinds of women in a small group of 15. Prostitutes, teenagers, mothers. Some had completely fallen apart after their rape, just like you; some had become addicted to sex; others hadn't realized the gravity of the situation until years later; and still others had been abused at a young age and confused love with sex, especially when the perpetrator was a family member. You remained silent for the entire hour, but you listened attentively to what they said. Sometimes it resonated with your own feelings; sometimes you gained a new perspective on the trauma that you hadn't considered. It was comforting to be surrounded by people who admitted to being deeply affected by the same event as you.
You no longer felt weak or alone. These women were strong, and it would be foolish to exclude you, thinking you were the exception, the one who would never heal. Perhaps you will be left with lasting effects, but you will learn to live with them because everyone has a degree of resilience within them. You exchanged numbers with the other mothers; at least you'd get some parenting advice, and you could talk to them about your mixed feelings about your daughter. Eren looked up as you left the room.
“I thought you'd come back crying,” he teased, getting up from his chair to join you.
“I feel strangely good. It did me good.”
“Good.”
The car ride was quick, but instead of going to your apartment, it stopped at Ony's.
“Eren—”
“You need to make up with your brother.”
A shadow fell over your face.
“I don't want to talk to someone who's friends with my rapist.”
“But he doesn’t know anything, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚. He can’t guess. He’s not with you as often as I am, so I figured out what happened.”
You stared silently at your daughter.
“Talk to him, please,” he insisted, “you’re doing everything right, things will start getting better for you, I promise.”
When Ony opened the door and saw you and Eren, with your daughter in your arms, his radiant smile made your heart ache.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Eren took Neusa and went into the house, leaving you alone with Ony. Ony closed the door and pressed his back against it, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.
“So…” he began.
“How’s it going with university?”
His eyes lit up.
“It’s so great, the master’s program is much more interesting than the bachelor’s. I love studying architecture so much that I think I’ll continue all the way to a doctorate.”
You gave him a small smile. Ony had always been a very intelligent and ambitious man. Ever since he was little, he’d always wanted to build houses; Lego was his favorite toy when he was a kid. So when, after finishing high school, he said he wanted to have his own architecture firm, everyone knew he was going to be successful.
“It makes me happy to see you thriving.”
“And you? Have you been writing your novels?”
You made a face. “I stopped writing after my pregnancy, but I’ve started again recently. I’m just afraid people won’t like them.”
“Why? You're talented, you've always written since you were little. I was so surprised when I found your Wattpad account when you were 13. You were freaky as hell on here.”
A quiet laugh escaped you. “Yeah, I know… It's just that I want to write about what happened to me, but I feel like all the writing advice tells me my way is wrong.”
“Who gives a fuck? It's your story, you know what you went through, so you write it however you want.”
Tell him.
“Ony, I…” Your throat tightened, the words stuck in your mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still friends with… Floch?” Saying his name made you feel nauseous.
“Of course I am, he wants to do a PhD with me. It's cool to have a friend with the same ambitions as you.”
“R-Right…”
“Are you okay?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, worried by the tears welling in your eyes.
“Ony, Floch hurt me really badly… I… I would like you to stop talking to him.”
Surprise flashed across his face. “He hurt you?”
“He’s Neusa’s father.”
A deep crease formed between his eyebrows as he considered what you were trying to say before his face hardened.
“You… you slept together? And he didn’t take responsibility for the baby?”
“It’s so much worse than that, Ony. Don’t make me say it out loud.”
Fury ignited in his eyes as he realized what had happened.
“Fuck, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You spent your whole pregnancy alone with this on your mind, damn it!”
“I-It’s okay, Ony, it’s okay. I needed this time alone; I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about it.”
“No, this isn’t okay, you have to file a complaint! I’m going to kill him the moment I see him at college, I swear to God—”
“Ony, I’m the victim, so I get to decide what happens to my rape,” you cut in, your voice harsh, “I don’t want to go to the police, and I don’t want to cause any trouble. So you’re not going to do anything to him. I just want you to stop being his friend so I feel safe with you.”
His face softened, his gaze turned guilty. “Okay, sorry. You’re right, it’s your trauma. It’s just… It’s so unfair. I wasn’t there when you needed me.”
You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. He inhaled your scent, which he had missed during the months you had cut ties with him.
“I'm glad I sent Eren to be your friend; he brought my sister back to me.”
“Hm, we're more than friends…”
“No way, he loves you like that?”
“I don't think he really loves me—”
The door opened, the baby's cries interrupting your conversation.
“I think she's hungry,” Eren stated, rocking the baby in his arms.
“Okay, let's go home, then,” you suggested and glanced at Ony. “Don't you see me differently?”
He huffed. “The fuck you're talking about? It's not your fault. It's him I see differently now.” Ony kissed your cheeks goodbye before giving you one last hug. The care ride to your apartment was short, and after you breastfed your daughter, Eren rocked her to sleep.
Once you were alone, Eren lay down on your bed and sat you on his lap. His hands came to rest on your ass, and he kneaded your ample flesh, his eyes closed.
“Eren?”
“Hm?”
“What do you like about me?”
His eyes fluttered open. He stared at you, lingering on your pouty lips. “Everything.”
“I am more nothing than everything, Eren.”
“That’s not true.” He sat up on the bed and pulled you against his chest. “I love your smile. You never smile, so I go crazy when I manage to get a happy expression on your face. It’s like winning a gold medal. You’re a bit like a cat; it takes a long time for you to give your trust. It’s rewarding to be with you. I like working for your trust.”
His words sent a wave of heat through your entire body.
“Eren…”
“I love it when you talk to me about your novels. You have such a vivid imagination; I could listen to you for hours. I hope to read them someday.”
“I don’t know when I’ll finally finish my projects…”
“But you will, I’m sure of it.” His hands cupped your face, and he pressed his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. “I like being here for you. It makes me useful, I love taking care of you,” he whispered against you.
You flinched. “This isn’t healthy, Eren. A good relationship should be balanced; I should give you as much as you give me. This is toxic between us. It’s your ego wanting to be useful and control everything.”
His hands slipped under your t-shirt to caress your soft stomach, his erection hardening at the feel of your pillowy flesh that he loved to touch. “What if this is how our relationship should be? I’ll be the one who provides, and you just focus on healing.”
“It’s toxic—”
“Who gives a shit? Let’s be toxic together.” He lifted your t-shirt and you raised your arms for him to take it off. “Let’s be unconventional, let’s be abnormal.”
Thirty minutes later, the sound of your pants filled the room as you rode Eren on his lap, his hands gripping your ass as if it were his most precious possession. He ravished your mouth, making out with you passionately, his kisses desperate as he wanted you to accept the unbalanced nature of their relationship, to accept his care and his love language. Your eyes were closed, while his remained wide open, feverish, in love.
“Eren?”
“Hm?”
He tugged at your hair to make you lift your chin and traced his mouth down your neck, leaving a wet trail behind him. Your mind was in a daze, you were bathed in his affection, enveloped by him, his scent all around you. Like on a cloud, your heart swelled, almost bursting with the love you felt for him.
“I think I really love you,” you murmured.
His grip on your hair tightened, and he paused, his warm breath on your skin.
“Don't say stupid shit like this.”
“I know, we shouldn't, we aren't healthy, but—”
A heavy breath escaped his lips. “That's not the problem, baby. You know damn well what the real problem is.”
“Eren, you can't control death. It's not your fault if you die and your family is left without you.”
His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to ride him faster. A veil of shadow crossed his face.
“Shut up, you can't understand. You don't know me.”
“I can’t understand? I don’t know you?” You huffed. “That’s why you came to me when you were crying for your father?”
He stretched his back on the bed and pressed the heels of his feet into the floor to lift his hips and thrust harder into you. Your hands fell onto his shoulders as you bounced on his dick, the ball of heat in your belly threatening to explode at any moment.
“Don’t talk about that when I fuck you,” he muttered.
“So when are we going to talk about this?”
“When I’m ready, for fuck’s sake. I’ve been patient with you, right? Are you the only one allowed to be traumatized or what?” he snarled, pounding into you. You wanted to contradict him, tell him you understood his pain, but you wanted him all to yourself so badly that you were frustrated with the situation, but the pleasure took over. Your pants turned into breathy moans as he rutted into your pulsing hole. He made you ride him, making your whole body jiggle, making you feel alive and so turned on. His eyes half-lidded, his mouth watered at the sight of your tits bouncing around.
You tried to cover your mouth to avoid waking your daughter, but he yanked your arm away and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing your sweaty chest against his. He shivered at your whines next to his ears, his ragged breathing beside you making your cunt clench. Bending his knees, he raised his hips even higher so his downward strokes would deepen, hitting your spongy spot inside you. The embers in the hollow of your body ignited, awakening all your senses, every inch of skin.
“E-Eren, I think I'm gonna….” Your mouth agape, waves of pleasure rising from your core and stretching through your body, making you tremble as your drenched heat tightened around Eren.
“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered in your ear as his thumb slipped between your thighs to slide onto your clit. “Give me that shit.”
The combination of his finger on your throbbing bud and his deep voice in your ears made your eyes roll back as you let yourself succumb to the ecstasy that was washing over you. Eren hissed, your cunt spasming around him, biting his lower lip to keep from coming inside you just yet. Once you came down from your high, breathless, you looked at Eren, shocked. He smirked, an arrogant glint in his eye.
“I-I came!”
“Damn, this dick is really that good.”
“Eren!”
He resumed the rhythm of his thrusts, slower now.
“I think it’s because you weren’t thinking about your rape. You were so busy trying to change my mind that your body gave out.”
Your eyes watered, moved by the progress you had made.
He chuckled. “Crybaby.” He pressed his lips against yours.
He continued making love to you, hoping you would forget the little argument you'd had, focusing on how good he was in bed with you.
────────
౨ৎ one year with you ౨ৎ
“Papa?” Eren was giving Neusa a bath when she uttered her first word. It wasn’t a word for her mother, but a word for him. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. He tried to ignore how his heart swelled with affection, how much he wanted those words to hold him in his heart for the rest of his life.
“Y-Yes?”
Neusa smiled and raised her arms to hug him, a joyful glint in her brown eyes. He leaned into the tub to give her what she wanted, even though she wet his t-shirt. She snuggled against him, her chubby body contrasting with the hardness of his muscles, but it was mostly his scent that made her want to be close to him. His hands trembled behind her back; he didn’t know what to do with the emotions fluttering like butterflies within him.
She thought he was her father. Was he ready for this? Damn it, what the hell was he doing taking care of a baby that wasn't even his? He finished bathing and dressing Neusa in silence, his mind racing. He put her in the playpen he'd bought for her and slipped on his shoes. He had to get out of here as fast as he could. He was just doing stupid things, things he'd sworn he'd never do. Before leaving the apartment, he glanced at you sleeping on the sofa. Was this love? Something that confronted your fears and made you miserable for someone? He didn't need that, damn it.
He drove like a maniac, frustrated by all the people in front of him who were preventing him from quickly meeting up with his friends. Once he arrived at Ony's, when he opened the door, Eren barely greeted him and entered the house. In the living room, Connie was playing Final Fantasy VII on the PS4, being Cloud Strife while Armin studied his biology. Eren slumped on the sofa and leaned over to rummage through the coffee table drawers for the weed Ony always kept there.
“Ren, you’re not at home, you could at least say hello, you asshole,” Ony muttered, giving Eren a light tap on the head.
“Fuck off, I’m in a bad mood.”
“That single mother pussy is no longer good?” Connie teased.
“Say one more thing like that about her, and I’ll fuck Sasha and send you the video.”
“You’ll never do that, you’re too in love with that other depressive.”
“Yeah, that’s the fucking problem,” Eren muttered. Armin glanced at Connie as if to say, "Stop, this seems serious," and Connie rolled his eyes.
"What happened with my sister?" Ony sat down next to Eren.
"You're going to laugh at me."
"Is this any different from usual?" Connie chuckled.
Armin threw a pillow at his face. "You can speak to us, we're your best friends," he reassured him in a soft voice.
"Dickrider," Connie huffed.
Eren took a drag on his blunt and exhaled the smoke, leaning back against the sofa.
"I think I'm in love and it's scaring the shit out of me."
"Awwwww," Connie cooed.
"Finally," Ony shook his head, "I knew your avoidant ass would fall in love one day."
Eren glared at his friends. "You don't even understand the problem, you idiots. I can't. I really can't."
"Don't ever think of leaving my sister, it will destroy her."
Eren looked away.
"Eren." Ony's gaze hardened. "Don't even think about it."
"His daughter takes me for her father. I have reached my limit."
"And whose fault is that?" Connie sneered. "You always take care of his baby like it's your own."
Armin, who had been silently observing the situation, dropped his biology textbooks and cleared his throat.
"Is it because of your father, Eren?"
"What else do you think it's because of, you moron?" Eren shot daggers at Armin.
“That’s not how you deal with your dickrider, Eren,” Connie joked.
“I don’t know why I came to see you, you’re useless. I’m getting out of here.” Eren got up from the couch, but Ony grabbed his arm.
“Man, you need us. Stop your bullshit.”
Eren stared at the wall without looking at his friend, his jaw clenched. Of course he needed them, but how could he express the fear he felt? He felt like he was becoming that lost teenager again, forced to take on the role of father in his family. A pressure that wouldn’t leave him, and one he didn’t want to intensify. The vivid memory of having to be more authoritative with his sister and being his mother's emotional support when he was only 15 brought tears to his eyes, and he lowered his head to avoid Ony noticing, but it was too late because Ony stroked his back.
“Connie, turn off the PS4,” Ony ordered.
“Damn, I was gonna see Tifa.” Connie turned off the game console and focused on Eren, whose gaze was shifty. “You know what you need? A good car ride while you trauma dump your miserable life.”
“My life isn’t miserable,” Eren said defensively.
“You’re literally a drug dealer, man.”
“I bet your girl buys it from me.”
“Okay, that’s enough. Everyone out,” Ony commanded. The group of men left the house and gathered in Eren’s car. It was Connie driving, and Eren pressed his temple against the passenger window. He watched the scenery go by, while his friends put on their favorite music in the car.
He was thinking about you. You had made so much progress. You smiled much more, didn't cry during sex anymore, went out to run errands, and had even made friends at the association. He hadn't forgotten the time you asked him not to come over one Saturday because you were going out to a bar with your friends. He was so proud of you. What would happen if he drifted away from you? You'd find a man who didn't have to do all the work Eren had done to be by your side. It would be so easy for him. Neusa would forget Eren quickly, and you would be a happy family. Everything would be right, everything would be good. He felt like throwing up just thinking about it. Eren was selfish. He wanted you all to himself, like that PnB Rock song.
“What if I take the plunge?” Eren began, his voice unsure. “I mean… I’m more likely to end up in prison than to die suddenly like my father, right?”
“Yeah, your destiny is prison.”
Eren shot a cold glare at Connie.
“If your father had died of a hereditary disease, your fear would be valid. But it’s just your trauma talking because there’s no guarantee you’ll have the same life as your father,” Armin argued, which soothed Eren’s fears.
“I think you should go to therapy,” Ony suggested. “Imagine if you run away at every baby milestone, you’ll traumatize her.”
He had forced his mother to talk to someone so much that he had forgotten he, too, was affected by his father’s death. Eren’s phone rang in his pocket. It was you.
‘You didn’t close the baby playpen, she was playing with knives!!’
His fingers slid across the keypad.
'Since when have you been worried about her?'
'That's not the point. You'd make a terrible father.'
The amused smile he'd been wearing vanished.
'Don't say stuff like that ever again.'
He ignored your other messages and put his phone back in his pocket.
“We can go home,” he announced.
Armin had a bad feeling. “What are you going to do?”
“What I'm the best at.”
────────
Eren ignored you for three weeks. No calls, no messages, no visits. Nothing. It broke your heart, and you struggled to imagine your story was over.
“You’re way too pretty to be crying over that bastard.” Ymir grabbed your phone, which you were staring at, stupidly waiting for a notification from Eren.
“Don’t call him that, he’s—”
“He’s an asshole, ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚,” Historia cut in, and you knew when she used cuss words, she meant it. Ymir and Historia were both women in the association. After a lot of abuse from men, when they found each other, it felt like destiny.
“You know what you need? What do we do when we need a break, Historia?”
Historia blushed, playing with her blonde hair as she tried to form her answer. “You sleep with someone.”
“Hell no,” you protested, but Ymir pushed you into the bar against your will.
“You already have the outfit for it,” Historia argued, following you.
“Thanks for making me wear this dress,” you grumbled, smoothing the creased fabric of the red mini-dress that was attracting the attention of every man in the bar. “You know very well that this isn’t like me.”
“Yes, when you’re sober.” Ymir smiled wickedly.
You looked up in exasperation, deciding you would just go along with it for the night, to take your mind off things. The rest of the night passed in a daze as the alcohol transformed you into this sociable, smiling woman. You met a man, Jean, who made you laugh while Eren made you cry, so it was only natural that you brought him home, encouraged by Ymir's thumbs-up. You didn't even remember his hands on your body or his mouth on your skin. The only thing on your mind when you woke up was that Eren still hadn't contacted you.
────────
౨ৎ one year and three months with you౨ৎ
“After spending your childhood shouldering responsibilities that weren’t suited to your age, you avoid any situation that demands too much of you?” Eren’s therapist still had that cold, nonchalant voice as he spoke truths Eren wasn’t ready to accept. Mr. Ackerman was a pain in the ass.
“That’s not what I said,” Eren muttered, glaring at him.
“What have you done these past few weeks to confirm something else?”
“We don’t care about that.”
“Ah.” Levi’s lips quirked up (but never more than that). “So you want me to be a hypocrite, Yeager?”
“I’m just saying—”
“You’re weak. Very weak. Weaker than her. She didn’t run away from you when she was scared.”
Eren's heart tightened painfully, and he jumped up from his chair, his eyes blazing fury.
"Fuck you." Eren stormed out of the therapist's office.
"See you next Wednesday," Levi managed to say before Eren slammed the door.
Once outside, Eren frantically searched for a cigarette and cursed under his breath, realizing he was out. He bought some at a nearby tobacco shop before the pack slipped from his hands as his eyes fell on you, just a few meters away. Dressed in a floral dress with ruffles, you radiated light, the sun's rays illuminating your hair and brown eyes. You were leaving the convenience store with shopping bags while a man with chestnut hair held Neusa. He said something that made you laugh, and Eren felt like committing a terrorist act. His feet walked on their own toward you as his hand crushed the pack of cigarettes.
“What the hell are you doing?”
You stopped dead in your tracks, your smile fading before the angry man in front of you.
“Eren?”
“I work on myself, and what are you doing? Sleeping with the whole town?”
“Papa!” Neusa reached out toward Eren, a confused glint in her eyes, as if she remembered him and no longer wanted the man holding her.
You flinched. “Don’t talk like that in front of my child.”
“Don’t bring strangers around in front of my daughter, then.”
“Your daughter?!” you repeated, incredulous.
“Yeah, my daughter,” he replied, his voice harsh.
“Is he Neusa’s father?” Jean asked, a superior look on his face because he was the one you had chosen at that moment.
You tightened the straps on your bags. “You could say that.”
“Give me that fucking baby,” Eren ordered Jean, who was staring at him in surprise.
Eren didn't wait and basically yanked Neusa away from him before driving off with her. You rushed after him, yelling, leaving a sheepish Jean behind.
“You can't come back into my life after ignoring me for three months!”
“Put your ass in the car and shut the fuck up.”
Eren sat Neusa in the child seat in the back seat, and your heart swelled at the fact that he hadn't thrown her out. Maybe he'd planned to come back all along?
You put the groceries in his trunk and ignored the voice in your head telling you that you had no backbone. You sat on the passenger side and while he drove, you refused to look at him.
“You give your body to any idiot who gives you attention now?”
“You quickly forget how you got me into your bed.”
“I worked for that. He doesn’t even know your deepest wound.”
“It felt good to spend time with him,” you confessed sincerely. “I didn’t constantly feel weak and miserable like I did with you. I finally felt like something, like I was more than just a raped girl.”
Eren stared at the road, his eyes dark and his grip on the steering wheel tight. He didn’t like that conversation at all.
“What does that even mean?”
“Nothing, just that life is still worth living when you’re not here.”
Why did it hurt him so much that you weren’t broken by his absence? He wanted to be indispensable to those close to him. That was the purpose of his existence.
“I guess it’s good that you’re not depressed anymore,” he grumbled.
“You… guess?”
“Do you want me to be honest for a moment?” He glanced at you, his gaze hard. “I wanted you to be at your lowest point when I came back.”
You blinked several times, no emotion on your face because you knew very well what kind of man Eren was.
“I wanted to start taking care of you again, to be indispensable to you, and it would flatter my ego to be the reason you were still standing,” he continued. “But I forgot that the woman I fell in love with is stronger than me. You find light in the darkest corners and you always get back up from the hardest blows, while I'm a coward who can't face my feelings.”
Neusa chirped, raising her arms, clearly very happy to see Eren again. You were very happy to see him too; you had missed him. His words healed a part of you, and you nibbled at the inside of your cheek.
“I’m glad you admit your mistakes, but that won’t undo the damage you’ve done. Just because I was with another man doesn’t mean I didn’t suffer.”
Eren remained silent the entire way home. He was helping you put away the groceries, and his heart tightened when he realized Neusa could walk now. He’d missed her first steps. She stayed close to Eren, hugging his calf and looking up at him with a radiant smile. He stroked her curly hair, touched by her. He grabbed a trash bag and threw all of Jean’s things that were lying around on the couch, and you rolled your eyes but said nothing. Jean was kind, but the love of your life was Eren. The one who was there for you through your worst moments, no matter how unhealthy your relationship was.
Once you were seated on the couch, Neusa playing with Eren’s sneaker laces, he broke the silence. “I’m going to buy you a house.”
Your lips parted in surprise. “What?”
“Neusa needs a garden to play in.”
“We aren’t a couple, Eren. You rejected me when—”
His jaw clenched. “That was months ago. I started therapy two months ago. I’ve made some progress on that.”
“Eren, you don’t become a new person in two months of therapy—”
“I love you.”
“No, you don’t!” you protested. “You just want to save a broken girl.”
“What can I do to prove it to you?”
“Be there for me even when I’m doing well. Don’t disappear when I’m doing better.”
“I promise you I will always be there for you.”
“I want action, Eren.”
“I want to buy a whole fucking house for you.”
You stood up from the couch, smoothing out your dress.
“We’ll see once I get there.”
Eren was truly your lapdog. He thought he was in control, but it was you. His dick hardened at the thought. He really met his match.
────────
౨ৎ one year and six months with you ౨ৎ
Eren had stopped dealing drugs. He had chosen to pursue his greatest ambition: to become a tattoo artist. As an apprentice in a tattoo parlor, he was slowly getting used to earning a normal salary, not the astronomical sums he'd made before when he was operating illegally. He was driven by the desire to realize his dream, but above all, he had changed careers to be a good father to Neusa. His greatest fear was abandoning his family. What would he do if he ended up in prison and you were left alone with Neusa? He couldn't bear to get out of prison and see you with someone else.
“Papa!” Neusa cried happily when she saw Eren come home from work. She ran to his feet and held out her arms for him to hug her. Eren smiled and bent down to pick up his daughter—yes, his—and kissed her cheek.
“Where is Mama?” Neusa pointed toward the bathroom. He took a few steps to the room. He frowned as he tried to open the door, then knocked. Sniffles came from inside.
“You good?”
You opened the door slowly, looking at your feet. His eyes narrowed on your trembling hand holding a positive pregnancy test. Eren had used a good portion of his savings to buy a house in the countryside. The cottage was surrounded by a large garden, whose abundant flowers bloomed in the spring. Neusa loved tending the flowers with her mother; there was love throughout the house. And a lot of love between you and Eren. You hadn't talked about being a couple yet; you still needed time to fully trust Eren after he abandoned you for three months. Since he'd started therapy with Levi, he'd been more honest about his feelings. You were a somewhat unconventional couple, but it worked for you.
You were on the birth control pill, but there were always mistakes.
“You know you can have an abortion, I don't mind,” he whispered, wiping away your tears.
“No, I want the baby. I want a baby born of love.”
His eyes softened. “Then, why are you crying?”
“I had memories of my pregnancy when I was alone.”
“That's in the past now. You're not defined by that.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “We're going to build a good family together, right?”
You nodded, sniffing. You stared down at the pregnancy test.
Maybe there was light even in the darkest path.
────────
౨ৎ four years and six months with you ౨ৎ
“Mommy doesn’t love me,” Neusa stated, as Eren helped her get dressed for school. He froze, his hands resting on her tiny shoulders.
“Don’t say things like that, sweetheart.”
“But it’s true.” Her sparkling brown eyes watered. “She prefers Naya to me. She’s always hugging and kissing her, never me.”
Eren was at a loss for words because he couldn’t argue with the truth. How could he explain to a four-year-old that her mother saw her rapist when she looked at her? How could he explain that she preferred the baby she had with the man she loved? He walked her to school, then came home. Once he got back, you were making yourself a coffee in the kitchen. Your face lit up when you saw Eren. “I finally finished my novel yesterday; it's 120,000 words. I think it'll take me about three months to see my second draft. I'm so happy.”
“Cool,” Eren muttered, his jaw tense.
Your smile faded at his serious tone.
“Are you okay…?”
“We need to talk about something.”
How could he tell you that you weren't a good mother? How could he tell you that you were hurting your daughter without making you feel guilty about something that wasn't your fault?
“Neusa thinks you don't love her,” he began. “She's noticed that you're more affectionate with her little sister.”
You drew a thin line from your lips. The conversation made you feel uncomfortable, and you avoided Eren's gaze.
“Look at me when I'm talking to you.”
You looked up. “I… She ruined my life, Eren.”
“Floch ruined it,” he corrected. “She’s innocent. It’s not her fault. You…” He took a deep breath before saying what he was about to say. “You can’t blame your trauma when you now have responsibilities. You should have had an abortion if you didn’t want her.”
Your coffee cup slipped from your hands and crashed to the floor.
“Are you serious?” you asked, hurt in your voice. “You know damn well I was too depressed to even leave my house at that time.”
“I know, I—”
“You don’t know anything!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “I should have gone to a gynecologist after the incident because I had vaginal lesions! I didn’t do anything! I was unable to leave my house!”
“˚ʚ♡ɞ˚… I'm just saying—”
“Yes, I don't love her! So what?!” you yelled. “She looks just like him.”
His heart ached because it was his own daughter you were talking about.
“Talk about her with respect, please.”
“She's mine, Eren. I don't know who you think you are.”
“Oh,” he moved closer to you, “so I'm not her father anymore when it suits you?”
You locked your gaze with him. “Yes—”
“You know what I think?” he cut in, lowering his head toward you. “I think you love her.”
“I-I don’t, Eren.”
“You love her. That’s why you never wanted to give her up. You had every opportunity to place her in an orphanage, but you never did. I even remember you saying you were afraid she’d be abused in another family. You’re afraid to admit it to yourself because loving her means accepting a part of your rapist.”
You pushed Eren away violently, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him. Tears welled up in your brown eyes, and in that moment you looked so much like your daughter that it hurt him to see you two so far apart.
“That’s not true.”
“If you can’t love her for herself, love her for me.” He kissed away your tears. “Floch isn’t here anymore, it’s just us. You’re so strong, you know that? I know you can do it.”
“But I have flashbacks when I look at her…”
“It’s because of your PTSD. Maybe Hange isn’t effective enough. We need to find a therapist who specializes in trauma.”
“I don’t want to tell a stranger what happened again.”
“Or…” He stroked your cheeks. “We’ll do Yeager-style therapy.”
You chuckled, sniffing. “What’s this nonsense you’re spouting now?”
“You learn to love your daughter by getting to know her. You spend time with her, you play games with her. You try to create a bond that goes beyond the fact that she’s a rape baby.”
“I don’t think I can—”
“You will.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You will do it because you want a happy family. Loving her will never be loving Floch, baby. Loving her will always be between you and me.” He hugged your trembling body, promising you sunny days and calm nights, assuring you that everything would be okay.
────────
In the following months, Eren bought a multitude of games for you to play with children and adults so you could spend time with Neusa. During this time, you realized you knew nothing about your daughter. She was a cheerful girl, well-behaved, and very advanced for her age. Her favorite colors were purple and burgundy because her favorite Winx was Stormy. She loved to draw, just like Eren, especially the flowers around your house. Everyone at school liked her. So why was it so hard for you to love her? You forced yourself to remember that she was Eren's child. You had to get Floch out of your mind. That was the only way you could feel any affection for her.
The more weeks passed, the more you found similarities between her and Eren. Her habit of having her hot chocolate in the morning while Eren drank his coffee, the fact that she preferred baggy clothes to girly outfits, her stubborn personality that held onto an idea once she was convinced of something—just like Eren. She was his daughter. It had taken you a while to see it, but now it was clear. Neusa was thrilled to spend so much time with her mother and never again complained about not being loved enough. A happy family.
But something was missing for Eren to be completely happy. He proposed to you one day while your daughters were playing in a park. He thought it would be more symbolic in a natural setting, while you smiled at your children, rather than some cliché dinner at a restaurant. He let you choose the wedding decorations but made you hurry because he was waiting for the chance to call you his wife like never before. Neusa was overjoyed; she thought she'd transform into a princess once the wedding took place. In her childlike mind, you were the queen and Eren the king.
In a way, it was true. You had created a kingdom together. A happy family. Nothing could tear you apart now.
────────
౨ৎ a life with you ౨ৎ
‘Who wants that perfect love story anyway, anyway?
Cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché
Who wants that hero love that saves the day anyway?
Cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché
What about the bad guy goes good, yeah?
An innocent love I'm misunderstood, yeah?
Black hour glass, our glass
Toast to clichés in a dark past
Toast to clichés in a dark past’
Accompanied by Beyoncé's voice, your father held your arm as you walked toward the man who would be your husband in a few minutes.
Eren almost never cried, only for his father. So you didn't expect to see a tearful gaze when you looked up at him.
A gentle look on your face, you smiled at him.
“You're the crybaby now.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, his eyes filled with so much love.
Normally, he would have made a lewd comment about your outfit, saying he couldn't wait to take your dress off tonight, but he was so awestruck by your beauty that nothing came out. He could only admire you.
When it was time to exchange your wedding vows, Connie giggled at how sappy his friend sounded before Ony stepped on his foot to silence him.
“This ceremony should have taken place at least 3 months earlier. But some asshole preferred to run away than be there for the woman he loved.” He locked his gaze with yours. “From now on, that's it, no more bullshit. I won't be scared anymore. I want your heart, your soul, your pain, to make it mine. I want you to be able to look into my eyes one day if you ever wonder what love is. I don't care if I sound arrogant, but love will always start with me. I will be your beginning and your end. And in the middle, there will be our daughters. A happy family, that's what I always promised you, and I intend to keep my word.”
You tried to hold back your tears but it was difficult.
“You told me one day we were toxic, that I didn't love you. Is that still how you see us? When I come home from work and you're asleep, when I'm making your favorite meal, you don't feel my love? What about when you talk to me about your novels and I can't get enough of hearing you say the same thing over and over? What about when I quit my fucking job for you? If I have to set myself on fire to prove I love you, I will. Don't tempt me, you've never seen a guy madly in love in action.”
Laughter rippled through the reception room.
“So… I don't know how to end this.” He took your hands in his. “I just want to know I'm ready. Ready to be the best husband you've ever seen, ready to be an even better father. Ready to fight against all of my fears and yours, and I guarantee I'll come out on top.” He lowered his head to kiss your knuckles.
“The kiss comes later, Eren,” Connie shouted.
Eren turned his head to glare at his friend.
“It’s my wedding, and I’ve decided I’ll kiss her now.”
Before you could react, he grabbed your waist and crushed his lips against yours. You smiled against him, returning his kiss.
Lulled by the applause and the cheers of your daughters, you thought about what he had said.
Love really started with him and ended with him.
──────── ✃- - - - - - - - - - - you liked it ? please support fics you liked with a reblog or a comment ! writers never know how we impact you if you don't say anything <3 ── .✦
a/n: i’ve been genuinely terrified to write for him
your knees are on either side of eren’s face and his fingers are digging harshly into your hips trying to yank you down, succeeding only with a couple centimeters. he smacks your thigh and you jerk forward but still hold off on doing what he wants.
“god damnit i said sit down.” spank!
“hey!” you grab onto his wrist and dig your nails in.
“shut the fuck up.” a bite to your thigh. “food doesn’t talk.” he yanks you the rest of the way down.
he nips at your clit pulling a gasp from your perfect lips before he sucks it into his mouth. his tongue lashes against it, laughing into you when your legs tremble.
“‘s what i fuckin thought.” he licks down to your pussy.
he pushes his tongue in only to lick back up to your clit and tease the sensitive bud. “fuck!” you lean forward grasping at the headboard. “fuck just- ngh! do something right!” you grind against his face.
he groans and sucks are on your clit harder, fingers digging into your hips so hard you wince. he lifts a hand just for you to hear the smack! of him spanking you before you feel the sting. he spanks your other cheek making you rut against his mouth.
“s- stop playing with your food!” you reach down and dig your fingers into his hair, tugging him closer to your cunt.
his cock throbs at your words, hips jerking up into the air as he pulls you closer down on his mouth, sucking and licking at you, your juices dripping down his chin now. he moans into you, licking down and finally shoving his tongue in your wet heat.
he fucks you slowly, lifting his hand and spanking you again, alternating his hands, groaning at the way you pussy is contracting around his tongue. you rock against his face, pushing closer when you feel his nose rubbing against your clit.
“eren!” your head drops and you fully start riding his face.
you chase your pleasure, whining out his name, not caring what you sound like knowing he’s gonna give you shit for it either way. he lets you ride his face and tongue, getting harder at each sound that comes from your parted lips. he looks up at you and his eyes roll back a little at the sight of you.
“fuckfuckfuck!” your tummy clenches and you cum, rutting against his face, toes curling as he groans into you. “jus- hah! eren just a- nghh!” he won’t let go until you’re almost pulling his hair out.
“‘m gonna cum stop.” he pants, grabbing your wrist.
“yeah?” you let out a breathy chuckle. “gonna cum in your pants like some loser?” you push his forehead back into the bed.
spank! then he has you flipped over on you back before you can even blink.
Reiner the man that you are let me take u to pound town
𝐹𝒪𝑅𝐵𝐸𝒜𝑅𝒜𝒩𝒞𝐸.ᐟ ❤︎ ft. getō suguru!
SYNOPSIS ⨾ no matter how vast his patience, you always manage to find the end of it. but suguru has the sweetest way of breaking a brat.
CONTAINS ⨾ ( 3.5k+ ) words of . . . nsfw, getō suguru x bratty!reader ( hyperfeminine & black coded ), curse-free au, set in modern japan ( may 2018 ), established relationship, size difference, soft dom / brat tamer sugu ( the duality of man lol ), mentions of cunnilingus & fingering, light slapping / clit slapping, folded missionary, tummy bulge, mating press, overstimulation, eventual creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. papa, baby, sweetness, princess, etc. ), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!
MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ at long last, i’m posting my first suguru fic ever >.< my love, my muse, my gorgeous male wife!!! i think about this man relentlessly, and the best way to channel it is by pouring my heart into this nasty little piece of work for him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) this is only the beginning of many more getō fics to come! now please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! ❤︎
INSPO TRACK: sell me candy, rihanna ⨾ right and a wrong way, keith sweat ⨾ whatever you want, tony! toni! toné! ⨾ the town, the weeknd ⨾
getō suguru’s universe begins and ends with his princess — his sole, decadent fixation. for him, breathing is simply a rhythm meant to keep him alive long enough to spoil you. he moves through the world guided by one sweet, all-consuming obsession: you.
his absolute conviction is that his entire existence was designed to anticipate and deliver your every need — like how he instinctively knows when your spirit yearns to be held, protected . . . or pleased.
there’s this warm gravity in the way he gathers you in his arms; all thick and firm and devastatingly strong. every peak of muscle is concealed beneath the loose, baggy knit of his oversized sweater as his forearms fold completely around your middle.
suguru catches onto all of it, tracking every unvoiced desire that passes through your mind — the way you want your pillowy lips kissed, your waist caressed, your ass grabbed and kneaded in his big, wide palms. it’s all confessed in how you adorably shift, wordlessly nuzzling further into the crevice of his solid chest. he smells of rich sandalwood, smoky traditional incense, and the dewdrops of light spring rain.
it’s an all-day, everyday luxury, being loved by a man who predicts your every want. whenever you ramble about needing a new piece for your wardrobe, he listens with a quiet, indulgent smile before grabbing his keys to start the car for the mall. the very second the quiet rumble of your stomach catches his attention, he’s already drifting into the kitchen, gathering ingredients to whip up a rich, creamy bowl of your favorite white pasta.
he’s the truest provider, down to the very marrow of his bones. even when — especially when — ovulation turns into a throbbing, unbearable ache, and you find yourself craving him more than you can possibly bear, he never fails to take perfect care of you.
suguru stretches you out, sliding in with the circumference of two thick fingers that move in a slow, sweetly maddening deliberation. the sensation builds until he dives and buries his pretty face between your plush thighs, suckling tenderly while you gasp out shakily strung syllables that are meant to shape his name.
but filling you up with sweetness only makes you reckless, turning your soft satisfaction into attitude, entitlement, appetite — until you completely forget where his indulgence ends and his authority begins.
that’s why, even with such a patient, nurturing heart, suguru can be so, so mean when he chooses to be. or perhaps, it’s just that you’re . . . too fucking brattish.
it’s an addictive cycle, the way you endlessly push your luck — becoming greedy with what he gives, cumming without permission, and breathlessly demanding more. he knows exactly when that lack of inhibition needs to be nipped in the bud, and he’s never afraid to resort to a little discipline. suguru loves to spoil you, but he thrives just as much on absolute control.
the second you get too pushy, you show him that he’s spoiled his princess far too much. it’s a rather advantageous mistake, because the sudden, smoky flash of deep indigo in his narrow eyes tells you he’s more than ready to remind you exactly who you belong to. his sweet affection shifts instantly into something darker, so thick and inescapable. he never raises his voice, no — he simply needs to apply the right amount of unyielding pressure:
and it comes in the form of a mean tug at the pretty spirals of your curls. his thick fingers entwine with the pattern, mercilessly tilting your head back to claim your mouth in a deep, bruising kiss, swapping spit until your defiance melts completely on your tongue.
“you're getting a little too bratty for your own good, sweetheart,” he hums against your swollen lips, tugging a little harder on the bunched root at the soft texture of your hair with one large hand, while the other moves up to meltingly squeeze your puffed, pouting cheeks.
to that, you whine, peering up at him from the helpless angle he’s got your head tilted in. your vision swims with nothing but him, imposing and broad like that of a dark-winged angel. you’re quick to try and refute him, tapered pearly-pink nails sinking desperately into the thick, dense meat of his biceps.
“mmph, shuguru! —am not!” “you are.”
the heavy warmth of his palm meets your cheek in a firm, deliberate pat — a sudden reminder of who you belong to. it isn't meant to hurt, it never is, but it’s just enough to shock the breath right out of your lungs. a delicious pulse instantly rushes straight to your pooling cunt, leaving you with shifting thighs and an aching throb.
“just . . . listen to me.” he watches with a low, satisfied hum as your big, glimmering pupils instantly dilate from the impact, before his large thumb sweeps slowly over your skin to stroke the very cheek he just pawed.
“open up.” suguru claims you without warning, his mouth dropping back down to steep your lips in a deep, wet, melting lock. the slather of his pink muscle slides heavily between them, effortlessly parting you to pry out every ounce of your sweetness. he tongues you open and swallows your mindless sounds, absorbing every sugary, breathless whimper like this one kiss is his most prized indulgence.
when you finally break away in search of oxygen and he leans in to lick after you, a thin, glistening thread of spit lingers between your lips, stretching and snapping as he shifts his broad frame over yours.
suguru follows up with a deft, slow yank, peeling down your gossamer-thin, cotton-candy pink leggings; exposing the lush, supple curve of your round butt to the heavy warmth of his large palm. it connects with a resounding smack, one that brings about his serene, pearly grin, followed by a couple of firm, melting slaps directly over the wettening spot of your mesh, frill-adorned panties whenever you start to writhe too much for his liking.
“keep still for sugu. m’kay, princess?” he murmurs sweetly against your neck, keeping your clothed, needy clit entirely trapped beneath the relentless patter of the thick span of his splayed fingers. he lingers there for a torturous second, letting the friction build a warm, melting pool that completely soaks into your panties. every sweet tap of contact sends a sharp yet delicious ache straight to your core, holding you entirely captive until the exact moment he abandons all that remains of his faux restraint — he doesn’t like it when you call it that. though, you know he’ll end up devouring you regardless.
with an eager, breathless haste, he strips away the last of your barriers — the threaded seam of your creamy-pink camisole, your lacy little panties, his dense fall sweater — until not a thing remains. his irises, dark and orchid-purple, melt into a sweet softness as they drink in every rich, delectable bare curve of your warm brown skin. he scoops you into the comforting span of his steady hands, savoring how incredibly soft and perfectly molded you feel against him.
suguru dips low, lower, until the inky silk of his long black hair spills free from its loose half-bun; cascading over his broad shoulders as he bends his head to bury himself in the crook of your neck. the fine, glossy midnight strands drape down like a cool wave against your feverish skin, tickling mercilessly against the sensitive line of your exposed jugular.
he then languidly takes hold of himself, fingers gliding with every stroke to the base, groaning lowly at his own lazy touch. you let out a soft, appreciative mewl as you watch him. the heavy, teasing tap of the crown of his bobbing cock is dropped right over your pearly bud. warmth and slick spreads he rests the weighty underside upon your clit, even as it pulses for him.
“mm, you're so beautiful, baby . . . let papa look at you,” he gives you the calm flash of his slow, familiarly cattish smile, “i wanna take care of every little thing you need.”
with a final, bone-deep push, suguru delivers a sweeping thrust that melts right through you, driving all the way to your sticky hilt. he tilts his strong hips at just the right angle, plunging deeper into your squelching walls. a saccharine, breathless sound escapes you once he’s successfully filled every last inch of you with dick. stretched so nicely by the intrusion, you rake your precisely filed french tips down the cream-smooth expanse of his broad back.
he settles inside your warmth and rests perfectly still, cock throbbing softly while your trembling thighs bracket the tapered slope of his waist. his sharp violet eyes roll back at the delicious, fluttering squeeze you make around the girth of him.
“mm, s-suguruuu,” a syrupy plea drips from you, knowing he drinks up the sweet sound of your begging. “p—please move, papa . . . you promised you’d make me cum—”
“god, i spoil you too much.” a heavy, almost helpless sigh breaks out of him just before he surrenders completely to your successful pleading. he intended to discipline you, he truly did — but when you're underneath him like this, pussy wrapping around his cock so deliciously tight, staring up at him with expectant glossy eyes and milky-pink gloss-pouted lips, your breasts swaying as your chest heaves from the lingering burn of having to swallow every thick inch of him . . . getō can no longer help himself.
and so, he establishes a relentless rhythm that steals the breath straight from your lungs. every firm drive of his hips echoes densely throughout the atmosphere, like that of a warm heartbeat thump, thump, thumping hard enough to dissolve you entirely against the soft fibres of the cottony futon.
“oh, s-suguru, you're sooo — fucking big,” you coo against the strained cords of his neck, peering down through tear-blurred lashes to watch the thick, heavy shape of him moving so visibly against the pudge of your lower belly. “mmfuck, you feel so good, it's so much . . . l—look, papa, you’re making a mess of meee . . .”
an intoxicating shade of midnight floods his violet eyes, smogged into a blown-out haze of amethyst. tracking your tear-blurred gaze, getō doesn't only look — he reaches down with a heavy, calloused hand, pressing its warmth onto your skin until the width of it covers your stomach, his broad palm flattening right against the thick swell of his own intrusion moving beneath his fingers.
“fuck. fuck, baby . . .” suguru rasps, a gravelly vibration that rolls from the depths of his chest straight against the delicate clavicle of your collarbone. his fingers splay wide, mapping out the delicious way your skin stretches to accommodate him.
“look how deep I am inside you . . .” his thumb traces the distinct swell under your skin. “I can feel it — god, I can feel it. you’re taking every inch of me so well, sweetness . . .”
irregardless to his sugary words of praise, suguru is malicious in the way that he doesn’t allow you even a mere second to gather your breath before his hips tilt sharply, plunging into you with a new, utterly ruthless tempo. such a shoving grind has the swell of his twitching balls pressed completely flush at your helplessly tight pussy until he’s bottomed out against the dripping hole of your slit.
the sheer friction of him sliding all the way in makes your mind fracture into pure, sizzling white noise. his large hands move from your stomach to grip around the soft span your full thighs, bruisingly tight, pinning them right back against your chest to open you up even wider, forcing you into a position where you have no choice but to take him to the absolute hilt as he pounds you sore.
“you want me to fill you up? hmm, sweetness?” he murmurs, his voice a velvety, breathless growl that bleeds straight into your lips as his hair-dusted pelvis knocks against your sensitive bud. his fingers creep down to rub at it, quick and pressured just the way you like, and he revels in the sweet pitch of your feeble scream. “then stay just like this for me. don’t you dare run from it."
the heavy grind of his hips dissolves into a dizzying, frantic pace, the wet friction of your bodies meeting echoing ever so lewdly through the otherwise quiet room as the white quilt of his floor-mattress bunches up beneath you. getō’s chest heaves, his firm peaked nipples brushing the pebbling nerves of your own sensitive ones, breasts full and smushed against the solid wall of him; no matter how your body instinctively flinches from the intensity of the feeling.
he finds sanctuary in the soft slope of your neck, burying his face into the crook of it; inhaling the sweet, sweat-slick scent of your kiss-peppered skin. he can feel the impending pleasure wash over you — your writhing body gradually tensing to a tight, trembling coil beneath the sheet of his own weight.
“sugu—ah, s-suguru, i’m gonna . . !” you cry out, and the fractured wail shoots straight to his aching cock as he fucks you through the approaching high of it. you claw blindly at his broad shoulders, leaving shallow crescents in the smooth skin while your vision spots into a teetering suguru-shaped blur.
the rhythm grows unrefined as his thrusts turn heavier, sloppier, sliding with a slick, heavy nudge of his fat mauve tip to your tender cervix that completely overstimulates your senses. every wet, desperate push into your gushing cunt sparks a current of blinding electricity straight to the nerve-endings of your poor little cockdrunk brain.
your legs tremble uncontrollably where he’s got them pushed up as you drown in the splitting fullness of him. one more pound is enough. a broken, pitched wail is pulled straight from your lungs as your release finally hits — a sweet, crashing wave of a climax that ripples through every nerve of your strung body.
“mm—oh! ohhh, god, suguru,” a futile sob escapes you, your breath coming in shallow, desperate hitches; all as your sadist of a boyfriend eases his full, calculated weight down upon you. he keeps the flat of his palms pressed firmly against the backs of your thighs, ensuring your tautly folded legs remain secure at your buzzing-hot ears as you gaze up at the ethereal sight of him.
“gonna cum, princess,” he grits out a low, strained warning. you brace yourself for the splash of a thick load, eager for the warmth of his seed to claim you completely from the inside out; instead, amidst the blended haze of your orgasm and anticipation alike — suguru pulls out, drawing back enough to jerk his hard cock in an open palm, swirling hastily over the tip until thick ribbons of his cum spurt onto your soft breasts, trembling abdomen and spread thighs — everywhere except for the one place you wanted him.
“suguruuu . . .” you whine, tears threatening to spill over your damp lashline. “w—why’d you pull out?” your sniffle almost has him regret it. “wanted you to fill me up s-so bad . . ugh, you’re always so mean to me . . .” you continue to whimper, cry, ball up your fists to thwack against his chest, all of the above — all the while asking how he could be so, so, mean.
getō strokes himself casually, his eyes dark as he watches you tremble on the futon. “mean, huh?” he echoes in amusement. the audacious man kneeling before you can only bring himself to laugh. peering down through his long black hair, his voice drops to a velvety rasp.
“I was nice enough to let you cum.” he murmurs, stroking down his throbbing shaft before lining the head of his cock with your terribly empty hole. he groans at the sight of you, spread and dripping for him, all as he readies himself to push right back inside your welcoming embrace.
“maybe you’ll earn mine, sweet girl. only if you’re good this time.”
a breathless hiss escapes him the exact second he reunites with the sweet constriction of your walls; the snug intensity of your cunt hugging every pulsing inch of him without even the grace of a mere refractory period.
there’s absolutely no downtime to save either of you from your ebbing orgasms — not when suguru drags you right into another staggering round that leaves both of your bodies trembling uncontrollably. it's pure, mutual overstimulation from the very first sink he made back into you, and he was more than aware that every movement after would be unbearable.
his sculpted, porcelain body shudders violently against yours, his breath coming in ragged grunts into the soft, damp, curling edges of your woven hair. broken sounds draw from your lips, and his residual cum spattered onto your chest smears beneath your dainty hands as you knead your own boobs restlessly, head thrown back while you shake beneath him. suguru trembles with every thrust, rendered just as undone, because he knows damn well that neither one of you are bound to last any more than the next few seconds that follow.
“c—can’t . . nooo, sugu — i can’t t-take it,”
catching wind of you mewling his name so sweetly is what brings him to the absolute brink. getō, in all his entirety, goes completely rigid, the muscles in his broad back locking up like stone as he delivers one, two, three more deep, devastating thrusts that bottom out entirely against the seam of your sopping pussy, stretching you so beautifully that the airiest moan is pulled straight from the depths your lungs.
trapping you beneath the magnificent alabaster of his firm chest, his strong arms, his encompassing love, he pins your writhing hips hard against his own, binding you to him; all while the very universe narrows down to the sweet, awaited moment he finally groans your name aloud and spills over inside of you.
“hold it for me,” he gasps against your sweat-warmed skin, his voice a ruined, trembling whisper as his pulse drums erratically within the hollow canal his gauged ears. he catches hold of your face once more, wearily squeezing your cheeks between the large pads of his fingers as to press your lips into the perfect, sugar-pouted shape for him to kiss.
a low groan is pulled from him as his mouth slants over yours, grinding his hips deep and fucking you full of his warm, syrupy cum with every slick, desperate suck and lick made against your tongue.
"look at me, baby . . gave you what y’wanted — hnngh, t-take it all, right now . . .”
he said you’d have to be good — yet you know deep down in your heart that your desperate, messy whining didn't earn a single thing. you were completely, entirely bad for him. crying and twisting beneath his weight, begging to milk him until he gave into you. but the truth's as simple as the act of sex itself:
at the end of the day, no matter how spoiled you are or how hard he tries to punish you, your boyfriend simply can’t bring himself to deny his princess, his sweet baby — his spoiled, little brat.
© 𝒫𝐼𝑁𝐾ℳ𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻.ᐟ ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. reblogs are highly appreciated! please and thank you! ❤︎
𝒯𝒜𝒢𝐿𝐼𝒮𝒯! ❤︎ @shawtuzi ⨾ i hope you enjoy, my sweet girl! ⸜( ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
CABO
𐙚!!── eren and his sugar baby!
⤷ ❝ {cw: sugar daddy! eren, IT! eren, sugar baby! reader, age gap, slight! nsfw mentioned, smoking} ¡! ❞
⤷ 𝐢𝐢
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
“c’monnnn, cabo tan” you groan, exasperation laced in your voice.
you're sprawled on your stomach across one of eren's absurdly expensive lounge chairs, the kind with cushions so plush you almost feel guilty lying on them.
almost.
your baby pink bikini is barely there, a tiny triangle number eren picked out himself at some boutique in the bahamas last weekend. the top's ties are loose between your shoulder blades, because why bother tying them when you're just tanning?
your bottoms disappear completely where they're meant to, swallowed by the plush curve of your ass. you've got one cheek pressed against the warm cushion, arms folded under your chin, and closed eyes behind sunglasses.
the lemon drop sweats condensation on your manicured hand, droplets dripping from the crystal glass. you made it yourself at his personal bar….three tries before you got it right and you're pretty sure you still used too much simple syrup. but it tastes good and that's what matters!
from the second floor bedroom balcony, eren watches you.
he's leaning against the iron railing, one elbow propped with a cigarette burning slow between his ring clad fingers. a thin curl of smoke drifts up past his face but his eyes never leave you. the way your spine dips into your waist. the way those pink bottoms cling to the full swell of your cheeks like they're holding on for dear life. the way one strap of your bikini top has already slipped down your shoulder, the fabric barely covering anything anymore.
he takes a long drag and exhales as he smiles to himself.
fuck.
he doesn't even remember what he was doing before this; some email, some invoice, or some client bitching about a firewall. but none of it matters when he's got you down there, tanning in his pool area like you own the place.
he pulls out his phone and zooms in just slightly, not too much, he wants the whole view. the glittering water, the pink bikini, and the way the sun shines on the cocoa oil rubbed into your skin. once he snaps a picture, he texts it to you.
your phone dings from the small table beside your lounge chair as you groan softly, reaching blindly without lifting your head. probably a package notification from you ordering three new lingerie sets last night because eren mentioned wanting to take you to cabo for your birthday. but when you squint at the screen through your lenses, your stomach flips.
it's a picture of you from above.
your bikini top completely undone, straps pooled around your elbows. your bottoms eaten up by the round globes of your ass and your legs parted just slightly, feet dangling off the edge of the chair.
you crane your neck slowly and there he is.
leaning against the balcony railing, cigarette still burning, and phone still in hand. his hair's pulled back in a messy man bun, a few loose strands falling around his sharp jaw. he's shirtless already, probably stripping off his hoodie the second he stepped outside, and the afternoon light carves shadows into the lines of his tattoo peeking out from his ribs.
he doesn't wave nor does he call out. eren just stares down at you with that half lidded look that makes your thighs press together.
you smile slowly and sweetly shout up at him, "you like the view or what, ren?"
his smirk is visible even from here as he nods his head.
"come down and see for yourself," you add while wiggling your hips just enough to make the fat of your ass jiggle.
eren flicks the cigarette over the balcony and disappears back inside. it takes him less than three minutes to change before you hear the glass door slide open and the soft pad of bare feet on warm stone.
when you look up again, he's walking toward you in black swim trunks hanging low on his hips, chest bare, and hair still in that messy bun. a crystal tumbler dangles from his fingers— something amber, probably whiskey, because he never drinks anything fruity unless you beg him to share yours.
in his other hand: a bottle of sunscreen. you giggle while pressing your cheek back into your folded arms. "you're so predictable."
"am i?" he asks as he sets the tumbler down on the table next to your lemon drop and crouches beside the lounge chair. the bottle clicks open as cool lotion drips onto your shoulder blades and you shiver. "i just don't want you to burn."
"uh-huh…whatever you say."
his hands land on your shoulders and he starts working the sunscreen into your skin. his palms glide down your spine, over your ribs, and his thumbs press into the small of your back as you melt into the cushion with a soft sigh.
he leans down, lips brushing your ear. "you left your top untied."
"did i?"
"you did." his hands slide lower, palms curving over the swell of your ass, thumbs dragging along the edge of your bikini bottoms. "careless girl."
you hum while arching your back just enough to press into his touch. "that's why i have you, smart man. to take care of me."
he squeezes both of your cheeks firmly and you feel him smile against your shoulder. "yeah," he murmurs, voice low and thick like the whiskey in his glass. "that's why you have me."
you feel his fingers find the loose strings of your bikini top before you even realize what he's doing as he gathers the strings, tying them carefully into a small bow between your shoulders.
his hands linger a moment longer than necessary as they smooths down your spine, tracing the dip of your waist. then he straightens and you hear the soft swish of liquid against glass as he picks up whatever liquor he brought down with him.
"jacuzzi," he says and you know it's not a question.
you push yourself up on your elbows while twisting to look at him over your shoulder as he's already walking toward the bubbling water.
"coming, baby?" he doesn't turn around but you can hear the smirk in his voice.
you scramble off the lounge chair quickly, nearly tripping over your own feet, and he chuckles as you pad barefoot across the warm stone to join him.
the jacuzzi bubbles softly in the corner of the pool area, steam curling up into the evening air. you climb in first, the hot water lapping at your thighs as you fix your hair clip, not wanting to mess up your freshly done hair. eren sets his glass down on the edge and steps in after you, water sloshing gently as he settles onto the submerged bench seat.
you don't hesitate as you climb right into his lap, knees pressing into the bench on either side of his hips, straddling him like you belong there. his hands find your waist immediately as his thumbs stroke lazy circles against your wet skin just above the hem of your bikini bottoms.
now you're nose to nose with him, his damp hair half fallen from the bun, loose strands sticking to his temple and his jaw. a few pieces cling to the column of his throat and you push them away gently just for an excuse to touch him.
"how was your day?" you ask softly, acrylics dragging down his chest.
he snorts. "you mean before or after i watched you tanning half naked in my backyard?"
"both." you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "tell me everything."
eren's hands slide up your back to pull you closer until your chests are pressed together. his skin is cool despite the warm water and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest. he's always so calm and controlled as his fingers dig into your waist lightly.
"dealt with a client who didn't know the difference between ram and storage," he murmurs against your temple. "had to explain it three times."
you kiss his cheeks as you watch his lashes flutter over them. "poor baby."
"then i had to call my accountant because someone-" he says as he pinches your side lightly, "spent five hundred dollars on bathing suits last week."
"that was for the bahamas and now, cabo!" you protest while grinning. "you said pack cute things."
"i said pack a suitcase, not bankrupt me."
you laugh and kiss his nose, then his jaw, then the spot just below his ear that makes his breath hitch. he lets you because he loves the way you spoil him with affection. his hands roam your back, tracing your spine, the dip of your waist, and the swell of your hips above the waterline.
and as you pepper his face with kisses, eren finds himself thinking how different this is and how different you are.
the babies before you were a little older and poised. they faked their laughs and forced their touches like affection was a transaction with them. they would've never climbed into his lap in broad daylight or kiss him in a jacuzzi like no one was watching.
but it’s also the way you kissed him breathless on that balcony in the bahamas with the ocean below and the way you giggled when he bent you over the railing, moaning loud enough for the whole resort to hear.
no one had ever been like that with him. no one had ever been so unafraid to want him but he doesn't say any of that out loud. he just pulls you tighter against his chest, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.
"cabo's gonna be good," you say between kisses, pulling back just enough to look at him. his green eyes soft in a way he'd never admit to. "right?"
"yeah." his thumb traces your bottom lip. "fly out the morning of your birthday. private villa with a beachfront. and that backless dress you like, i wanna see you in it."
"you're so good to me."
"i know."
you smack his chest lightly and he catches your wrist, pressing a kiss to your palm. his rings are cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the warm water and the heat building between your bodies.
"you're different, you know that?" he says quietly, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud.
you tilt your head. "different how?"
eren just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "just different."
he doesn't elaborate but instead, his hands slide down to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him under the water. the bubbles hide the way his hips roll up into yours but you feel it and you gasp as your fingers curl into his damp hair.
"yeah?" his voice is rough now, the controlled mask slipping. "you gonna let me show everyone in cabo who you belong to?"
"mhm." you kiss him again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against his. he tastes like whiskey and something sweet from your lemon drop he stole a sip of earlier.
when you finally break for air, he's breathing hard as his forehead presses against yours.
"twenty three," he murmurs. "gonna be a good year for you."
"for us," you correct and the way his lips twitch makes your heart ache in the best way.
he pulls you tighter against his chest, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles into your lower back. the jacuzzi bubbles around you both, and the city sprawls out below the penthouse, glittering and distant.
"you're gonna be the death of me," he says into your hair.
you grin against his neck. "but what a way to go, right?"
he laughs and you feel it rumble through his chest and into your bones. "yeah, baby," he says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collarbone, and the hollow of your throat. "what a way to go."
