(SMUT/NSFW +18 - Minors DNI !)

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: "𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐗…

...Don't you think that's strange?"

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 / 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark content ahead!, explicit content, dubcon, graphic content, dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, HEAVY degradation, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal sex (hardcore anal btw), multiple rounds, Jaekyung putting it in every hole you have, creampie (anal), insults /nicknames (Doc, slut, whore, etc...)

𝐰.𝐜: 1,2k.

'I see you've made up your mind, doc...'

The husky voice came from behind your shoulder.

'...If that's the case, then hurry and strip to your underwear. Haven't got the whole night for this.'

He wanted to get it over with and frankly so did you. If you could skip to the moment he plows into you like a beast in heat you would. Your self-restraint slipped through your fingertips as you pulled your shirt over your head. As it did for seeing him undress and toss his luxurious bathrobe with no care. He pulled his boxers just low enough for his shaft to bounce free and towered over you with his erection in your face.

'suck.' He shamelessly pressed it against your lips, raven eyes locked with yours. And so you obeyed, taking him straight into your throat.

'See my size, hmm? oughtta get that throat nice and ready, miss doc.'

His girth stretched the corners of your mouth as soon as he pushed it in. The calloused hand grabbed your head and pulled it into his shaved pubes. You could feel his veins pulsing against your throat as his skilled fingers tugged on your locks.

Your chest instantly swelled at the lack of air, hearing him growl the deepest 'Mhh fuck! so fucking tight...'. He yanked your head back at once, almost making you throw up. the shiny strings of saliva still pulled your lips to his still throbbing tip.

'Not half bad, miss. But I ain't cumming in your mouth tonight.' He smirked, chest rising and falling as he tried his best to hold back .

His lips pursed together, spitting a load straight on your tongue and smearing it over your mouth before grabbing your jaw between his fingers with a maniac grimace on his face.

'If only Coach and the rest of the black team knew what our doc does in her free time...' He chuckled and smacked your cheek.

'If only they got to watch 'Miss perfect' slobber on this cock like a whore.'

His vile words jabbed at your pride, almost making your tears spill out, but you still had it in yourself to defy him.

'I'm not the one with the sex jinx...'

'Oh, got ourselves some attitude too, huh?'...

He slammed you down on the bed and sat on top of you, blocking your legs between his and forcing your jaw open.

'Don't try me. I'll fuck it right out of you, miss doc.'

You hated his attitude, or so you thought. Though your pussy clenching at his nasty words suggested otherwise. He flipped you over and pulled your underwear to the side, dragging his tip along painfully slow.

'Running your mouth while wetting your cunt senseless seems quite insencere of you...Don't ya think?' He teased and pressed it deeper against your entrance.

'B-But it's not like that! I'm just...'

A painful smack hit your ass, leaving the red imprint on your cheek. You cried out in pain and grabbed at his arm, your juices staining his perfume-fragant bedsheets.   

'Ah...Mr. Joo!, p-please stop..'

'Aww, got ya begging so fast already? slutty doc.' He lifted you over his lap and thrusted in, ripping the loudest scream from you.

'AH!' You threw your head against his chest in surprise.

He stood up and held your whole body in his arms, bouncing you up and down his length. You felt almost weightless in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and muffling your loud sobs into his neck.

'Mr Joo, s-slower...please!'

'Shush, And hold on tight. Your butt's gonna hurt a bit now...'

He pulled out and gave himself a few pumps before switching into your tiny butthole.

'Sir, wait! I've never-'

'God, get it together now, would ya?' Another spank electrifyed you, making your asscheek all red again. 'We still have a long night ahead of us!'

He hammered away at your stomach, The flush on his cheeks gaining a darker shade. The pain of his reckless thrusts toned down, yet his unmatched stamina had you chewing your poor lip.  

'Mmh who could've guessed? Miss doc's getting her ass pounded like a slut.' He grunted, 'you sure carry yourself different outside this room. hmm?'

His pace got faster as his fingers dug deeper into your poor thighs, panting and groaning against your damp skin.

'Aghh..even I couldn't tell how well you could take cock when I first met you.' You knew he was fucking you stupid when his bitter words flew over your head. your brain didn't really catch a sound. Your senses saturated with him filling you up, till your body almost collapsed under his much bigger frame. His fingers instantly caught you by your neck, pulling you back up to him.

'Arch that back properly! you keep fucking slipping.'

'Sir! when..d-do we get to rest..agh' You could barely articulate from his cock punching your g-spot. And he'd be lying if he said the view of you babbling your nonsense while gushing on his dick didn't drive him wilder.  

'Ever rode dick before?' He teased,

'Cause you'll be the one taking charge now.'

He layed down and folded his arms behind his head, smirking at you as he stopped moving inside.

'Your turn, miss therapist.'

You leaned forward, already feeling dizzy, palms holding tight onto his defined pecs. Then slowly rocked your hips with his, whimpering as your clit kissed his pelvis.

Your skin lit up with every touch of his own, almost as if his touch burned you. His grip on your thighs kept you from falling, yet you still felt lightheaded, almost like passing out. He grabbed your waist again and slammed you shut on his cock with a furious impatience.

'AHH, Fuck!' You mewled as you came on his stomach right away. The shockwaves rushing through your muscles had you crash down over his torso right away.

'Hey. I'm far from done here.'

He lifted you off his chest and placed you under him. And you whined in response, feeling him enter you again

'Get your shit together now. I ain't here to baby-sit!'

His pace got instantly erratic and so did his grunts. Driving you insane with his hands manhandling your back, spanking your ass, grabbing your waist, squeezing your hips and mercilessly tightening around your neck.

'F-uck, I cum inside by the way.' He grabbed you in a chokehold as he pumped his potent seed in your butthole, then grinned and pulled out slowly, whispering into the crook of your neck

'I just made you my cumdump. Congrats, Doc.' you tightened at the sound of his voice,  pushing his cum loads out your hole. He licked his lips in full pride, relishing at the sight of your seeping butt before pulling you to his chest again.

'Oh and just so you know, I never go less than 3 rounds on my matches' eve...'

Your body grew numb, and equally did your brain. Though you knew he had yet to satisfy his desire. You didn't know how much longer you had to go, nearing to pass out on his greedy lust. His rough touches spared no spot on your flesh, his powerful thighs slamming yours in the most feral ways...

-----

...You woke up to the mild sunrays, faint hints of his cologne bringing back the lewdest flashbacks he gave you. He was nowhere to be seen, only a large-sized towel left on side of the bed you believed he layed on.

You grabbed your phone as you slowly regained your senses, seeing a notification on your screen.

'𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞., 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭?'…

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑?...

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, unprotected sex, cowgirl, rough sex, petnames (princess, whore, slut, daddy's girl), choking, power play between sae and reader, degradation, sae is an ass towards reader

✯ chapter 1

Sae didn’t believe in love. 

Growing up in a harsh part of Tokyo where he had to fend for himself and his little brother, Rin, gave him an understanding that the world was a cruel place. Yet even crueller were the promises of a happy ending he read in crumpled up paperbacks the old bookstore down his apartment would throw out after it started to yellow. 

It was always the love stories that rarely got sold. 

Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they fight, they reunite and they live—

“Happily ever after,” Oliver’s voice slammed him out of his reverie. Those heterochromatic eyes prodded him when his silence got too loud. 

“Sae, were you even listening to what I just said?” 

The younger man slid his apathetic teal eyes to his comrade and friend. He gave a noncommittal shrug.

Aiku sighed. His frustration was threatening to boil over. It would be a month till the U20’s biggest match against Blue Lock and their starfighter was a million miles away. 

“I said: We can try the underhanded tactic to bring either Isagi or Rin down and then go for the throat. The money will be ours and we can make enough bank to last us for a year. Neither of us have to fight again. That will be our happily ever after.”

Sae was tired of listening to miracles. He stood up abruptly and nodded. 

“Whatever. I’m heading home now.” 

Aiku didn’t stop him from leaving, and neither did their other comrades.

Shouldering his heavy parka onto his sore shoulders, Sae stalked out of the U20 facility and to his car. The interior stank of takeout, sweat and the tinny rust of blood. He gunned the engine, but it faltered. Cursing under his breath, he tried again. And again. 

But, the stupid engine refused to start.

Contemplating if he should just push the damn car back to his apartment, he almost missed a soft voice clearing her throat.

“Do you need help, sir?” 

Sae was about to retort that he had it under control and she should mind her own business, when he caught sight of you. 

Dressed in a simple, beige A-line piece that showed off your legs and arms, a chain dangling from your neck and a pair of sunglasses perched on your head, you were the picture of quiet elegance. The fancy clothing couldn’t contain the humble appearance of your smile when you motioned to his car. 

“I have a pair of jumpstart cables. You could borrow them.” He still hadn’t responded to you. “If you want,” you added hastily, not wanting to seem pushy. 

Sae blinked. His silence stretched on without an intermission. 

You faltered and let your embarrassment swallow you whole. In hindsight, Sae found it adorable how you flushed and stuttered like you wished your entire existence would melt away just from his unresponsiveness. 

“Sure. That would be great.” After a beat of hesitation, he added a word which seemed foreign coming from his rough and rude tongue. “Thanks.” 

This should be the part of the story where boy meets girl. 

Sae jump started his car with your help, and as a treat for your kindness, he invited you to a late night izakaya selling his favourite kombu ramen. You were a stranger passing by, someone from the upper end side of Tokyo who noticed him struggling and decided to help.

You told him you knew what it was like to struggle and not be aided. Sae wondered what you could’ve possibly meant when he caught sight of the signet ring on your right hand. A mark of an elite.

He straightened, unintentionally freezing over. You didn’t know him; didn’t know that he was one of the men your world employed as free entertainment for nights when they craved a hit of violence. The both of you were as different as day and night.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you had asked him. 

Sae decided to tell you a lie. “I’m a blue collar worker. Delivering stuff.”

“Oh.” You took a look at the finished bowls and beers, the order sheet at the edge of the table. As if understanding what you were planning to do, Sae snatched the bill right in front of your extended hand. He couldn’t resist the small smirk decorating his face when you started to huff and pout.

“My treat,” he murmured, removing his battered wallet from inside his pant’s pocket. “And then we’re even.”

Except, he never did want to draw a tie or cut them off with you. 

Sae studied your car number plate, memorising it and used some of his connections to dig up more information about you. 

He didn’t have to look far. 

Your family were well-known as some of Blue Lock’s biggest sponsors, a direct rival of the U20 faction. Born from a history of blood and violence, your grandfather had been the first pioneer of a fight club that eventually changed the trajectory of his and many other poor men’s lives. As the money poured in, so did the promise of more extortion and exploitation.

Sae reasoned that he should’ve hated you. After all, you were partly the reason why he had to fight for a living.

But, he was intrigued by you. Your gentleness, your humble disposition. 

You were a rare jewel he had to unearth. 

One day, out of the serendipitous blue, life seemed to listen to his wishes and granted him a rare glimpse into your world.

As one of the rising Platinum fighters who everyone could bet on, Sae was invited to a networking gala hosted by none other than Ego Jinpachi himself. A raging egoist of a man who held his fighter’s lives in his palms like a deranged puppeteer, Sae found himself sitting opposite Rin and his bloodthirsty mentor.

Such a sight would not be unsettling.

As two opposite ends of the fighting arena’s spectrum, Sae and Rin drew lots of attention from potential investors.

The story of two brothers, once tightly knitted and now estranged only to eventually meet in the ring as opponents one day, was a huge investment factor. Filthy rich men with more money than God flocked to both Aiku and Ego to have a hand in orchestrating one of the biggest, historical fights in all of Tokyo’s history.

And tonight, Sae had to face each of them, wondering who would be the one to bolster up his gear or bet on whether he would emerge victorious against his brother. On the opposite side of the table, Rin was detached and uninterested. 

Both brothers barely said a word to each other all night; didn’t even glance at the other from across the table.

This apparently caused quite a stir with the investors who were taken by their stone cold treatment of one another. 

It’s a tragedy, isn’t it? To face one’s own blood in a ring and fight to spill it? 

Sae felt his brow twitch, and the room was starting to cave in. He needed to leave for some air or he would lunge across the table and sock these lofty motherfuckers right in their faces. 

The garden was a work of art designed by Ego’s careful hands. After stumbling out of the mansion’s door, he tried to hide himself behind a hedge, staring up at the starless sky as his heart continued pounding in his chest. Sae fully expected to be alone, and not to find a familiar face outside just a few feet from him, nor for you to still recognise him despite the slicked back hair and fancy suit.

“Sae,” you smiled, red lips parted to reveal a row of perfect teeth. You put out your cigarette into a Roman pillar column, leaving a halo of ash and a burnt skid on the otherwise pristine concrete. Sae thought it was rather rebellious of you to do that. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Tipping your head to the side, you studied him. His flushed cheeks, tight lips. 

“I thought you said you were a blue collar worker?” 

He decided to come clean, spitting out the truth in equal parts aggression and apathy. 

“I’m an underground fighter.”

The auburn-haired man fully expected you to crinkle your expression in disgust. Not nodding in understanding. 

“I figured. Most blue collar workers don’t have bruised knuckles.” 

Unconsciously, he tightened his fists, feeling the callouses and the split skin stretching across his knuckles. “If you knew who I was, then why didn’t you say something?” 

Why didn’t you leave? 

Rich girls like you had no use for men like him. He was a stain under your shoe, a man with a God complex high off a violent occupation with no God in sight. But, you only smiled at his question. 

“You didn’t fawn over me even when you noticed my ring. I like that.” 

Somehow, you had gotten close enough for him to smell the vanilla from your hair. Sae tipped his head back, turning his gaze to the side; the action pressing him deeper against the brambly hedge walls. “Whatever you think will happen tonight will not happen.” 

He pretended like his heart didn’t skip a beat when you reached for his hand, so much rougher compared to your soft ones. You circled your thumb over the bruise on his palm, increasing the pressure till he felt the wound throb. 

“Stop that.” But, he didn’t pull his hand away. 

You grinned. “What do you think will happen tonight, Sae?” 

His handsome, arrogant face broke out into a sneer. “Just because you order men like me around every single damn day doesn’t mean I have to give into your whims, princess.” He wrenched his hand from yours, trying to ignore how much your touch singed his skin. “And don’t ever touch me again.” 

Brushing off your crestfallen expression, he strode back into the mansion, feeling more breathless than when he abandoned the suffocating room full of investors and back-talk about his skills. Rin had left a few minutes after he had, and with his little brother out of the room, he could finally relax. 

Except, you chose this moment to enter the same room. 

Immediately, everyone stood up. 

“L/N-san. Welcome.” 

You weren’t the teasing, sweet girl in the garden anymore. Instead, you wore a look of fabricated disinterest, roaming your eyes over every single man. Lingering your searing gaze on his own wide ones before turning to Ego. 

“My father sent me here as a representative. Now, which star player do you recommend I speak to first?” 

Everyone started to clamour, calling for your attention like dogs scraping at their master’s legs for the last bone. 

Eventually, Aiku was the one who cleared his throat loud enough to get the entire room’s attention. Through the hazy tobacco smoke, he cut a handsome figure in his suit, languidly rising to his feet and gesturing at Sae.

“L/N-san, Itoshi Sae is one of U20's undefeatable players. A 6-streak win and low possibility of injuries. A prodigy. You should speak to him first, miss.” 

Sae felt like you were analysing him through his suit. 

After a beat of tension, you nodded. “Fine. Send him up to my private room.” 

You turned and left. Sae stood up, hesitantly casting his gaze to a triumphant Aiku. 

“Are you sure she is the richest one out of these assholes?” he murmured under his breath. 

Oliver chuckled.

“The richest. With her backing, we’re practically golden. Now, go and woo her. You’ll do great.” 

Straightening his tie, Aiku sent him off with a wink. Unlike the atmosphere at the garden, this time, Sae was aware he had to be on his best behaviour—which was a challenge considering he had already rudely brushed off a potential investor. 

Fuck, he swore internally. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Why had he been so brash with you?

There was no use in crying over lost chances. He had to man up and knock on the door to your office—face you when he had already insulted you right in the face.

Sae braced his hand on the red oak, breathing in deeply. Here goes nothing. He knocked three times. 

“Come in.” 

You were sitting on a sofa, legs crossed and expression neutral. Not once did you give him a look like you were hurt from his rejection in the garden. Instead, you stood up, gaze cold and faraway. 

“So. You’re the prodigy, hmm?” 

Sae kept his eyes lowered, not touching yours. “Yes.” 

You patted the sofa seat next to you, gesturing for him to come over. “Sit. We have a lot to discuss.”

Gingerly, he sat down on the other end of the sofa, putting enough distance between the two of you not to make things any more awkward than it already was. 

The silence dragged on. Sae stared at the fireplace—the flickering embers throwing lengthening shadows around the room. He counted the cadence of your breath; discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his expensive slacks.

You broke the silence first with an airy giggle. 

“I had no idea I was speaking to such a talented young man.” 

He looked up and caught the barest hint of a smirk on your pretty lips. Swallowing his dry throat, Sae croaked, “And I had no idea you were… influential.” 

You chuckled, placing your hands on your demurely on your lap. “It’s not me. It’s my father. I’m just his representative. You see, he’s currently bed bound from an injury and doesn’t have any sons so it’s up to me to oversee his work.” 

Sae responded to your words with a heartfelt nod, wishing he could turn back the time and slap his old self from pissing off a very powerful investor (and a very beautiful woman). 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

Glancing at him up and down, you chuckled. “I guess we’re at an impasse here. And to think I nearly committed indecency by proposing you come back to my place.” 

The memory of your hand in his sparked like a flame in his mind, burning his skin. 

“Yes. To think we could’ve done something like that.” 

Your eyes lowered to his hands. His pretty teal gaze flickered to your exposed throat. 

“It would be horrible.” Your foot brushed his knee. Sae tightened his hands into fists. 

Despite the warning bells going off in his head, he relapsed back into his impulsivity, letting it taint his next move with his debilitating habit of never saying no to danger.  

“Disgusting,” he retorted, smoothly playing your game. 

You gasped, low and quick, when he stretched his hand out to graze your bare shin. He almost smiled at your eagerness. 

Pretty rich Daddy’s girl with not a shred of self-preservation in her…

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumbled, uncrossing your legs and inching closer to him. 

“We shouldn’t,” he confirmed, gruff and sure, but his body was betraying him; moving to meet you in the middle of this wide sofa. 

There was something mesmerising about your eyes and face. It entranced him, kept him hooked on the curve of your profile and those alluring lips. 

Your breath brushed his cheek, warm and inviting. “It would cause a scandal.” 

Sae curled his palm over your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It would.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. Such a simple gesture made a thrill of electricity run up his spine, painfully shocking him to the heat pooling right in his groin.

“People will talk.” 

He was growing tired of this lame cat and mouse game. Moving closer, he bridged the gap, resting his large palm on your lower back to nudge you not-so-gently onto his lap. The weight of you felt familiar—right. This close, your scent of vanilla was stronger, nearly overpowering him. 

Before his lips brushed yours with an intensity that nearly made you dizzy with lust, he mumbled: 

“Let them.”

“Sae,” you mewled, nails stabbing into his fleshy biceps. 

He had you pressed against your own bedroom door, creaming right on his cock like the perfect little whore you were. Your makeup was ruined, red lipstick smudged and eyeliner crinkled in the corners. 

You had let him push your dress to the side, your panties ripped and in tatters on the floor. Sae was quick to fuck you the moment you gave him the green light to, and like the scrappy underground fighter he was, he never missed out on seizing a golden opening. 

Your thighs were trembling around his waist, struggling to hold yourself up right. Sae’s mouth devoured your weak mewls, and you let him paw at your covered breasts, ripping the dress down to expose your stiff, bare peaks. 

“No bra?” He murmured into the heat of your mouth.

You shook your head, a breathless laugh tumbling past your kiss-swollen lips. “I—mhm—don’t like to wear one.” 

“In a room with the other men…” Sae trailed off, a frightening flash of jealousy igniting his veins. The thought of any other man seeing those perfectly suckable nipples even through the silky hint of your dress made him want to break their teeth.

His growl reverberated against your throat, and you were thrown onto the bed, his larger frame crowding you into the sheets.

Sae hitched your thighs up to his shoulders, those teal eyes alight with feral lust.

“Slut.” He slid his cock back into your throbbing depths the second that degrading pet name slipped out of his mouth. “Whore. You could’ve shown them what was mine—what belongs to me.”

He bunched your cocktail dress out of the way, exposing your tits and pussy right into the cold air of your stuffy bedroom.

“Mhmf,” your eyes rolled back into your head. You were panting, bullets of sweat dripping down your face. “I-I belong to you? Says who?” 

The Prodigy nearly broke the headboard into two when he slammed into you, hard enough for the entire bed to shake. Your squeal rebounded across the room, sparking his filthy satisfaction.

“Me,” he growled breathlessly. “I said it. You belong to me.” 

Curling one hand possessively around your throat, the sloppy sounds of your two sexes meeting together sent him on a hazy high. Those teal eyes were glazed over, the broad muscles on his back twisting and flexing with every thrust into your tight, welcoming heat. 

Sae was careful not to choke you too hard, but hard enough for your mouth to fall slack, pathetic whines and drool slipping past your slick lips. 

Your toes were curled tightly in his periphery, one hand in between your legs to frantically rub your clit.

“Fucking whore,” he grunted, trying not to swoon at how pretty your sweat-covered skin looked like in the dim moonlight. “Daddy’s girl taking this dick like a champ.”

“Sae,” you dragged out his name. Ending it with a choke.

Sae felt your walls rippling around his cock, and he wasted no time in diving headfirst in between your cleavage to nip and suck at your plush fat; nursing on your nipples like a man close to starvation.

You seized, back arching and he felt those perfect velvet walls choke on his dick. Squeezing down on him.

“Cumming for me already?” He spoke in between harsh exhales. “Fuck. Fuck. This pussy is fucking perfect. I want you to cum for me—only for me. Do it, Y/N. Milk this cock, Princess. Let me fucking fill you up—fuck.” His choked moan made you see stars; the hand around your throat was now gripping your hair, forcing your feverish lips onto his. 

You practically ripped at his dress shirt, tearing two buttons off to scratch down his chest. Animalistic whines and low grunts filled the heated space between both your mouths. Sae tasted like champagne and regrets, his tongue lapping right at your teeth. 

With one last hard thrust, you broke around his cock, triggering his warmth to fill you up. 

Sae slumped onto you, and you dug your heels into the band of his slacks, pushing it further down his toned thighs to expose the rise of his firm ass to your wandering eye.

Your nails bit into the plush globes, raking down his thighs. You played with his balls, squeezing on them lightly to take every drop. Unable to resist taking all of him however you could. 

Sae smeared hot kisses down your throat, on your jaw and across your heaving mouth; completely smitten by how cockhungry you were. 

The both of you sat in the filth of your mutual mistake, stewing in the greasy silence until you nudged his shoulder. The look in your eyes was glorious; an opponent about to make her next move. Usually, he would push back—never surrender.

But, something locked his muscles in place, keeping him focused on the rise of your shoulders—the dip of your collarbone painted in his hickies. 

He let you push him back onto the bed, watching intently as you ripped the expensive dress right off your frame, gesturing to his still clothed torso.

“Take it off. Let me see you.” 

Like the obedient fighter he was, Sae unbuttoned his white dress shirt, letting it melt off his broad frame and onto the floor. Scars littered his milky pale skin, catching your curiosity. He silently observed as you straddled his thighs, working his cock back to half-mast with your much smaller fingers. All the while your other hand never stopped caressing his broad pecs and chest; tracing his scars. 

Sae didn’t know what possessed him to sit still and watch you. 

It was like seeing a painting coming to life; the remorse which melted into determination right in your fiery eyes. 

He let you sink down his cock, bracing your palms right on his shoulders. You bucked your hips slowly, grinding down on him with a painful passion; almost like you were afraid of making any sudden movement.

Sae found his large palms slotting perfectly on your hips, holding you right in place. 

Pleasure unfurled itself down your body, bending your spine back. It soused across your face, turning your determined stare hazy. You locked eyes with him, and he didn’t dare look away. 

“Feels so good,” you managed to pant. “Your cock feels so good.” 

He undulated his hips upward, instinct pushing him to surge towards the opening of your cervix. “Yeah?” he almost growled. “Can’t keep your fucking hands to yourself—you’re such an eager slut.”

Despite you being on top of him, Sae was still in charge. He clamped a hand around your throat; yanked on your hair until your neck snapped back and your cry bounced across the room. 

“Ride me,” he spat and then licked his lips. “Prove to me that good whores deserve to cum. Make me proud, baby.” 

Sae was entranced; unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy leaving milky rings of cream around his cock. 

“Mhm,” you tearfully whined. “Yes, yes! I wanna make you proud—wanna make you cum again.”

A thick arm swept you to his chest, muffling your cries right into his throat. Sae bit down on the tender juncture between your neck and shoulder, bucking his hips up into you with enough ferocity to nearly throttle you off the bed. 

“Fuck—” he snarled, grabbing at every inch of your skin; spanking your ass, groping it, raking his nails down your back. 

Doing everything he could to get you melting for him. 

“Give it to me, baby.” Not an order; but a desperate plea. “Cum for me—make me cum. Pretty girl. Pretty baby—g-gonna make me lose my mind—” 

“I’m cumming!” Your hitched gasp rang loudly in his ear, like an explosion of joyous surrender. “S-Sae, I-I’m—” 

Your walls rippled around him for the second time tonight, and for the first time ever, Sae found a new rush in his life that wasn’t centred around bruised knuckles and split, bloody teeth. 

He welcomed it—that surge of crazed passion, so different from when he was about to snuff a man’s life out with his bare hands. Felt it twist his bones, break his soul. 

The world exploded in a white ball of heat again, right into the depths of your body, his heart shattering into dust. 

Sae tasted your honeyed whisper of his name on his tongue, felt your tears stain his throat. 

He held onto you as tightly as he could, afraid that if he opened his eyes, he might find himself back in the ring, the glaring lights forcing your smile from his memory.

But, the jeers and cheers never came. The bell never rang. 

It was the sweetest fight he had ever lost. 

This was the part of the story Itoshi Sae never expected. 

Sae never had a home. His old apartment was recalled back by a shitty landlord who didn’t care about two orphans trying to stay afloat with what little money their dead parents had left them. When social services had taken Rin away, they tried to get him, too, but he was faster. 

Swiftly escaping out the window, Sae recalled nothing else but memories of wet underground passageways, nights rummaging through garbage bins and saddling up to the closest homeless community for warmth and company. 

Eventually, he met Aiku and everything else that transpired before he became The Prodigy was history. 

Fighting was all he had ever known. Violence and terror were all familiar flavours on his tongue. 

But tonight, in your sheets, Sae found another sensation creeping up his unsuspecting body that he could not quite name. It was sticky and hot, curling down his spine like a languid rush of lava to pool somewhere deep in his chest when he took in the sight of your pussy wrapped around his cock. 

He fucked you deep and hard, like he was trying to erase that sensation. But, you brought it back to the surface with your fingers in his hair, your lips on his and the sweet moans of his name brushing his hot ears. 

Where it was easy to repress his entire soul away from the world, Sae struggled to keep his emotions in a tightly shut jar under your gentle attention. 

Sae never believed in love; never believed in someone else’s goodness long enough to be confident in his own grace. But, he supposes that tonight’s encounter with you was the closest to love he could ever get. 

You let him stay the night, comfortable with him warming your sheets. Sae spent the entire sunrise staring at your face, memorising the curve of your nose and cheeks. That strange sensation was back again, this time stirring him to brush a piece of hair from your temple. 

But, like every good love story, it would not be the same without personal demons haunting every sentence. 

Sae wasn’t good for you; he knew that. You were a whole station above him, impervious and untouchable. 

Unlike fighting, there was no prize in the arena of love. No fame, no glory. 

Sae wasn’t sure what would be at the end of this chapter, and a part of him, the scared little boy who had been abandoned by forces beyond his control, didn’t want to stay to find out. 

Nothing good would come out of this if he pursued a story that he didn’t know an end to. 

The morning after, he had vanished, and you woke up alone in this too big apartment; smell of cedar and oranges still lining your blankets. 

Like it was a dream or a memory you could not quite shake off, you wandered down the halls, rustling every corner to find a shred of the man you had trusted enough to let into your inner world. But, he hadn’t stayed long enough to give your world any colour. 

The cold walls adorned with art your father had personally picked out for this apartment didn’t reflect your taste or your fondness as you stared at them, hard coals for eyes. The picture in front of you was of a woman, running free in a grassy sea. Above her, a weak sun shone down, illuminating her golden hair. 

Monet must’ve been the inspiration for this work, and though the French painter was known for his art that brought a sense of peace to the viewers, this particular one did not inspire the same notion. Perhaps it was the clinical wall it was attached to, or the furniture surrounding it that did not give off the warmth a serene painting like this was supposed to emote.

Whatever it was, you didn’t dwell on it long; turning on your heel and stomping back to your orange-cedar scented sheets, trying to ignore the pathetic ache in your heart which echoed the indent on the empty side of your bed.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

---

Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 

“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 

You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.

“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.

Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 

“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”

He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 

His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 

“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?

“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 

“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”

His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 

“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper

“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 

“There she is” he chuckles. 

You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 

“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.

Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 

“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”

He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 

“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 

You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 

“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 

You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 

“It’s too much” you slur.

“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”

Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.

---

✵ STUBBORN FATE✵ underground fighter!toji

your next door neighbor looks scary, but he cannot be far from it. little did you know his gentle smile and kind demeanor was masking his other life as an infamous underground fighter and he did not like you knowing about it either.

✵ underground fighter toji x uni!reader

✵ tags — SO MUCH ANGST AND HURT, blood, violence, vague assault from stranger, corruption kink, virginity loss, soft!dom toji, slow burn, mutual pinning, sfw, heavy nsfw, unprotected sex, (toji’s 26 reader is 20), protective toji, virgin!reader, spit kink, praise kink, crying, corruption kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, crying, angst, bite kink,

✵ notes — the way this fic took me longer than I intended. I was gonna split it into two parts but i knew I’d get lazy and not complete it so I pushed thru and made it one long one shot

you weren’t scared. no you weren’t. you’re not…fuck

why couldn’t you be more aware? yes, you took this path many times to get to your apartment, but you should’ve remembered that this time was different. unlike the other times, someone had been tailing you since you left work. of course at night this section was much darker. and so, once you turned the corner, a pair of arms came around you.

the man from earlier now smiling, a darkness overlaying his sinister face as he pulled you further into the path, away from the main street …you couldn’t breathe. your body struggling as you flailed around. another pair of arms was holding you back, as you kicked out. able to get your elbow to collid with his stomach letting one of the men drop you.

“fucking bitch!” you felt sharp pain knock you down, holding your stomach as the other man came and gave you another kick to the back. the wind knocked out of you allowed the men to easily hold you down on the ground. you were completely vulnerable, the only thing you could do was scream for help. over and over…

your mind was fuzzy, you couldn’t stop your tears, trying your best to kick your legs out, only to receive a sharp slap across your face. “stay fucking still,” the hand covering your mouth allowed you to bite his finger, causing the man to hiss in pain, his hand bleeding.

you could barely see, your vision black….calm down calm down…i can’t see I can’t see—don’t touch me. get off me….what’s going to happen after? I want to go home! your ears stung, someone was screaming…I can’t breathe…why does my throat hurt?

you hadn’t realized that the one screaming was you— a gentle hand touched your face. flinching back, throwing your arms out, screaming—

“hey! it’s me! y/n! it’s me,” the familiar voice had you blinking. I can’t—I can’t breathe…a sudden wave knocked you over, filling your eyes with fat tears, letting out a broken sob.

“t…to…toji,” you couldn’t stop your tears anymore, breaking down completely, letting the man pull you into his embrace, his arms secure around your waist as he held the back of your head, allowing you to sob into his chest. he held you close, his own eyes bloodshot as he tried to stabilize his own breathing. holding you close to hide his own body shaking.

your vision was blocked by his body, not allowing you to notice what he’d done minutes ago to the two animals that lay dead on the ground. a black car coming with a few men you’d thought you’ve seen before…..

it was your first time living away from home, or off campus, you’d dormed your first two years, but decided to finally get an apartment, not wanting to deal with roommates anymore. it was a big step forward, but you were excited…maybe too excited.

“why isn’t the door opening?!” you grumbled to yourself, wiggling the door handle over and over, jiggling the handle—

the door suddenly swung open, causing you to stumble back, tripping on your bag you’d stupidly placed right behind your feet, knocking your head against the half wall behind you with a loud thud.

“fucks going on here?” a deep voice snapped. you were grumbling to yourself, rubbing your head in pain, eyes slowly trailing up the black sweats hanging loosely on the stranger, going up to the black sweater accentuating his broad shoulders until you were finally met with the dark green eyes staring back at you. “don’t want any ads—“ he goes to close the door.

your body quickly struggling to get up, reaching out with a loud, “wait!”

his brows quirked, seeing you kneeling down in front of his door. who even is this?

“it says this is my apartment,” you turn your paper that the land lord gave you just a couple minutes ago. scribbled very messy in the corner is room 406

he reached out taking the paper to read. this allowed you some time to look over the stranger. he was quite intimidating. a shadow looming over him as if he was something you should definitely not associate with. he was a bit older then you, maybe a couple years or so. he didn’t have any wrinkles, but his face looked tired. eyes downcast, hair disheveled. what caught your attention though was the multiple cuts on his knuckles and the scar in the corner of his lip. was he part of a gang?

that didn’t stop your eyes from wandering a little more. you’d definitely never approach him willingly on the streets, yet you couldn’t stop the heat crawling up your neck. he was much bigger then anyone you’ve ever met. if you squint just a tiny bit you could see the subtle bulge—

“anyone taught you manners, kid?” your eyes snapped up, face burning from embarrassment,

you gasp. “I’m not a kid—how old are you—“

“older than you,” he quipped with a sly grin, handing you back the paper.

“the land lord’s almost 90, the new apartment is 407, he must’ve forgot,” he watched as your brows pinched together, looking down at your paper. why were you so focused, and you still haven’t gotten up from your position on the floor. cute.

“oh, ah!” your hand slaps over your mouth, head shooting up as you apologized, over and over. I’m so sorry, I must’ve been knocking like crazy! it’s all my fault! I didn’t mean to bother you!

the only thing that stopped your frantic words was the warm hand on your head. your gaze meeting the deep green eyes. stunned, your lips parted a bit too cutely for him to handle. he couldn’t help himself. he was squatting at your height, petting your cute little head because you were getting all panicky over something so silly.

“don’t worry about it,” his words went straight into your chest, your eyes practically seeing hearts. he’s so nice! you were so wrong about him, you like his warm hand.

“moving in on yer own?” he asked, immediately noticing how jittery you’re getting, how cute.

you quickly tell him that the moving guys are downstairs, which you quickly come to regret since he removed his hand from your head to look over the side of the tokyo apartment building to see the small moving truck below.

“that’s good, it seems that everything’s sorted out,” he moved to go back inside his apartment, only to feel a small hand around his wrist. a small rush filled his chest, why did he hear his heart skip? he had to listen. once he looked under his arm, the almost 26 year old, felt his heart jump. your bright eyes looking up at him.

both hands holding his wrist, unknowingly squeezing your pretty tits up just for him to see. the little gloss on your wet lips had him feeling a certain way. all he could think of was petting your head as he helped you swallow his fat girth. he could read you perfectly, he knew your pretty eyes would fill with tears, it’s too big, but he’d still praise your pretty head off just for you to get all excited and continue slobbering all over him until his dick would twitch and—

“l/n y/n, it’s nice to meet you…” you gave a respectful nod, before looking up waiting desperately to find out who your kind neighbor’s name is. not once did your hand leave his wrist.

“toji.” nothing further said, yet he felt his heart beat a bit too loudly when he saw your pretty hair fly up a bit like some ghibli movie, you were too excited.

“toji-san,” you repeated the name to feel how it sounded on your lips, not realizing that it too gave the man a similar reaction. his cheeks dusting a light pink as he felt a strain in his loose sweats. how could she be even cuter?

the encounter was not the only one you had with the mysterious man. you often heard him coming back to his apt at odd hours of the night. sometimes when you’d be buying a drink at the vending machine, you’d hear toji on the phone arguing. he tended to do that a lot. some encounters he’d have gave you the creeps. what does he do?

you obviously didn’t voice it, but you enjoyed running into him during your late night convenience store runs. you used to think it was a fun coincidence, but now it was something you looked forward to every Tuesday and Friday night’s. I guess you both needed something during these days..

“toji!” the man looked up hearing your voice. you smiled brightly jogging up to him in your big hoodie and little pajama shorts, his eyes took a quick glance at your bare legs. the small heat in his chest made him avert his gaze, but he waited allowing you to come over to him before he pushed off the fence and walked with you to the store.

“how was classes?” toji had a habit of asking about your classes. you never voiced this to him, but you knew he was really interested….

“what’re you working on?” toji sat across from you in your little apartment living room. you’d invited him saying you made too much food and he quickly took up the offer, not refusing a free meal.

“physics,” you mumble, mind focused on your problem as you leaned against your arm writing down the formula. toji was silent as he watched you, eating every couple of seconds only to pause, infatuation consuming him as he watched your eyes dart around the page as he followed along with your equation.

“is it fun?” he could see the intrigue, your eyes lighting up as you looked up, nodding your head.

“i get stuck sometimes, but when I figure out the equation it’s really fun!” you gush, cheeks dusting with excitement. toji blinked, biting his smile as he snorted.

“nerd,” his reply only had you taking fake offense.

as annoying and bothersome your neighbor could be. he had his own way of being considerate and subtly asking how you’re doing. you can’t help the butterflies it sets off. he doesn’t like talking about personal matters, yet always asks how you are.

toji, however, didn’t need a single thing from the store. but he began to notice your late night runs once you’d first moved in a semester and a half ago, which he really did not like. he began accompanying you because though Japan is considered a pretty safe country, it’s still not a guarantee, especially this late at night and in this neighborhood.

“why can’t you wait until the morning?” he’d ask you repeatedly, you’d come down for things that you wouldn’t even need that very night.

“cuz I’ll forget by the morning,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. he hated how you do most of your errands at night, he hated it even more when he’d see you coming back late to your apt. but what can he do? you’re an adult, of course you’re free to do as you pleased. but that didn’t stop his stomach for turning.

the man’s eyes were focused on you, as you headed back in the direction of your building. you were going on and on about something that toji probably wouldn’t even care about if it was anyone else. but he enjoyed listening to you, he couldn’t help it when you were telling him about how your professor was praising you for your hard work and his hand was suddenly placed on your head. you stopped moving, blinking wide.

“you’re pretty smart, aren’t ya,” his deep voice had your eyes gazing up starstruck. his hand sent a wave of warmth through your body, feeling your heart beating in your ears. “such a good girl, I’m proud,” your cheeks stung with heat, the words caught in your throat because why? why did this man send your mind in shambles!

“tch, it’s not a big deal,” you try to brush off the praise, but toji can tell how much of an effect his has on you. you always melt whenever he touches your head. what would happen if he just kissed you right now? would you part your pretty lips for him? let him swallow up your whimpers—you were dazed, staring up into his deep warm eyes. he’d tease you about your homework one day, then praise you the next. you were unsure, confused, but that didn’t stop your chest from warming up.

“i—“

“ahh toji, we’ve been waiting!” your words were cut by the three men taking a smoke against a dark suv in your buildings lot. they all were big, just like toji, their arms and necks tatted, which had an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

“are they your friends?” you bit your cheek feeling how he retracted his hand, the two of you still walking, toji a bit more cautiously. the elevator was beside where the men were parked. you looked over at toji once he didn’t respond. feeling the hairs on your arm stick up, heart beating a little faster. his jaw was clenched, a vein bulging, and hand curled into a fist, and his eyes…they were as dark as night. “toji—“

“cmon man! we’ve been waiting for awhile now,” one of the men spoke, suddenly taking a beat until you caught his eye. “oh oh.”

your body jumped feeling toji’s hand rest on your lower back. his body almost pressing against your side like a guard dog. your eyes wavered on the men looking at you up and down.

“are ya havin’ fun with your little toy?” you felt a shiver run up your spine, feeling a warm breath against your ear.

“go straight to your apartment,” he was so close! your heart skipped a beat as he gave your lower back a little nudge in the direction.

“to—“ you looked over your shoulder, only to see that his eyes were dead set on the men across the lot. the street light casting a looming shadow over his face, his unkept hair darkening his eyes. yet…. he took a moment to meet your gaze, immediately letting his dark orbs soften with a reassuring grin.

“make sure you lock the door,” your heart flutters, “okay?” he waits for your little nod then points his head to the elevator, “good girl,” your body filled with butterflies as you calmly made way to the elevator. his eyes keeping a close watch on the men. he doesn’t move until the elevator doors finally close shut.

after your shower you tried your best to stay up, you felt a little uneasy about the situation. but you wanted to know if toji got back home safely. however, sleep overpowered your mind and you quickly knocked out on your comfy grey couch………

“we’re taking you to a hospital,” toji was holding you close as he called for the men to get an ambulance. your hand grasped his shirt, shaking your head.

“don’t,” you let out a small sigh, trying to calm down. your mind was in scrambles, desperately trying to think rationally. luckily you didn’t suspect anything to be broken.

“fuck you mean? please just listen to—“

“I said no!” you finally shout, letting go of the man, instead hugging your own body as you carefully stood up. toji swearing under his breath……..

you hadn’t seen toji in quite some time, he always seemed to be out when you’d come back home. you didn’t want to admit it, but you missed him. you missed walking with him at night. you missed giving him some extra food you’d ordered. you missed his comforting smile and warm hand. you never minded having him watch you do your homework. you wondered if he wanted to do more of your old homework.

“I finally got the tickets, cmon!” your friend, suna, had been going on about seeing this underground fight a couple months ago, however, you and your other friends didn’t believe him. suna took it a little too personally and desperately tried to buy tickets for months, and now he’s finally got them.

“this place is shady as hell,” you mumbled, yoru was holding your sleeve as you followed suna and your other two friends down the long dark alleyway, already picking up on the loud cheers and screaming.

after a few more seconds of walking, the small corridor burst into a huge underground stadium. your eyes blinking from the sudden bright lights.

“hey, stay close,” suna took your wrist leading you and yoru carefully past the huge bodies of people cheering.

“there’s so many people,” yoru shouted, your eyes trailing over the many different kinds of people that were here. it varied from high class businessmen, to normal average civilians. everyone seemed to be here.

“you guys should be on your knees thanking me,” suna boosted, you and your other friends rolling your eyes. “the price for this is not cheap,” neither of you said anything, considering how suna was a trust fund baby.

little did you know that the moment you’d stepped into the stadium, you caught a man’s unwanted attention. he’d only seen you once with toji, how beautiful, he thought, a sinister smile spreading across his teeth.

you all were watching the fights. it wasn’t like anything you’ve seen before. suna had told you guys earlier that this wasn’t the most legal friendly place, but you honestly could not have suspected this.

the rules of boxing had clear illegal moves, yet those rules did not seem to apply here. your body would cringe at the horrific sounds of bones breaking, fists breaking skin. the gruesome sounds sent your stomach turning, especially with this being with wraps instead of protective gloves like in a usual boxing match.

it was five different fights and you were getting close to the final one when a man by the name of raido, suddenly appeared in front of you. “you look like you’re enjoying the game,” his eyes closed in what seemed to be a kind smile. you felt a bit uneasy, but nodded your head, then looking past him to put out that you’re not interested.

“we’ve got some empty seats in the front,” he continued going on, this caught suna’s ear. “of course you can bring your nice little friends with you,”

“no tha—“

“holy fuck yes!” suna immediately jumps up, dragging you all with him as you scold him.

“suna!” you all hit him, clearly noticing how off putting this man is. he had tattoos that peaked under his dress shirt, he smelled of cigarettes, alcohol, and blood, and what was even more disturbing was the sunglasses. you couldn’t see where he was looking.

you kept an eye as the man, walking back to his seat, he seemed pretty important considering he had a place high in the stadium that overlooked the entire place. he whispered to the men he was sitting with, they all turned to meet your gaze.

“shit—“ you looked away, heart thumping as you prayed they didn’t catch you staring. luckily the next fighters were coming into the ring. finally allowing you a chance to breathe—“

suddenly you felt your dinner clawing up your throat.

“huh…”

“what is it?” yoru noticed your eyes wide open, staring straight ahead. “y/n—“

“and the moment you’d all been waiting for! the reason why any of you are here! the emperor of the night! tooooooojjjjjiiiiiii zeninnnnn!!!” the stadium burst with screams.

you couldn’t breathe. it felt like everything around you had gone quiet. you missed him. you cursed yourself. it’s been over three weeks or more, and now he was here. you felt your heart hammering. your mind dazed as he took of his robe. chills ran through your body at the sight. you would never have guessed. you only ever saw him with a hoodie or loose sweater, but now stripped down to just some boxing shorts, you had a clear view of the dragon tattoo that decorated his broad sculpted back. his bicep showcasing another collection of tattoos that wrapped around his arms. his sculpted thighs branded as well.

“y/n!” you were brought back by yoru’s concerned shaking, you apologize brushing her off so you can watch him. you didn’t know much about boxing honestly, but knowing this was not following the rules made you feel uneasy seeing toji here.

the night spent in your apartment as he looked through your old exams. you knew he had secrets, he rarely spoke about them except that he started working at a young age. he didn’t have time for studies. he’d always say you’re smarter than him. yet, he would be invested in your old homework. writing old problems down “just for fun”. the constant scratching of his head. his green eyes scanning the page as he tapped the end of the pencil against his scar on his lip.

“how’d you get this?” he’d shyly mumble, only for you to show him how you arrived at the right answer. he held onto every single word. he liked it. he liked it even more when you’d explain it to him kindly, no yelling, no degrading, just a simple explanation; and he’d get it. he wasn’t dumb…no… you think he was smarter than anyone you’ve ever met.

but he was in a place like this.

you wanted him to win. you didn’t want him getting hurt like the previous fighters. you wanted him to win so you can grab his hand and take him home…

toji’s feet pounded the ground, as big as he was, he was fast. faster than the fighters before. it was too easy for him. he dodged like no other, countered like no other, and punched like no other. as fun as this was for the crowd, it was not just a game for others. and for toji, it was a job.

he crashed onto the stool in his corner, spitting out some blood when his opponent got a cheap shot in. rinsing his mouth with the water his team fed him.

“fuck is taking you so long?” Raido suddenly appeared beside toji’s side, leaning against the ring. “you have a job.”

“I’ll rip that fucking flapper straight outta yer face if you speak to me that way, again,” his team was dead silent, frozen as ice. “you understand?” raido could not answer. instead he made the mistake of letting his eyes flicker up for barely a second. yet toji immediately caught his line of vision and he felt his entire body run cold.

“what is she doing here?” toji suddenly stood up, his eyes were dark, body boiling.

“boss, the rounds starting,” one of his men was waiting for toji to open his mouth to put the mouth guard on. toji couldn’t think clearly, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took.

yoru was yelling constantly in your ear. your eyes wavering between her and the ring. you couldn’t catch raido’s smirk as he strides back to his seat. he was lucky, if you weren’t here, he didn’t know if he’d be able to succeed, that’s only if his men gave him the correct information. if the boss truly likes you then…

“what’s this!!” the audience is in screams, having just witnessed the cleanest maneuvering and a clear hook the immediately knocks his opponent out, jaw definitely broken. “The emperor of the night!” suna was going absolutely ballistic beside you.

toji couldn’t cheer, his eyes instead settled on the men in the booth high up in the stands, raido whispering in their ears as they boiled with anger. he’d won… he’d won, but he hadn’t completed what was expected of him. what was ordered of him. his opponent was to have a minimum of two broken limbs in the course of seven rounds, and yet he’s won with a simple knockout in just three rounds. of course it was for one reason only…

he didn’t need you seeing him like that.

what he’d thought was something to spare you, only seemed to shine a huge spotlight on how deeply you affect the “boss”. it wasn’t hidden either, no, it was definitely shown to everyone else, friend and enemy as raido came forth slipping something into the hosts pocket.

“as we do every night, an audience member is chosen to greet the champion with his medal!” the audience bursting with excitement. “and our winner is!” The host takes out the slip of paper from his pocket and reads of the seat number.

“C8” the audience fell silent as they all looked to the front rows, waiting for the winner to stand.

“that’s you y/n!” yoru yelped, suna gasping as your friends stared at you dumbfounded.

“have we found our winner?” The host shouted. “ahh what a beautiful young lady!” the audiences that could see, were letting out whistles. “now don’t be shy.” you felt uncomfortable under the eyes of the entire stadium, your eyes briefly glancing up at the stands, shivering to see all the men in suits practically feasting on you with their greedy eyes.

your heart beating was the only thing you could hear. your friends shoving you forward didn’t help either. you silently prayed for it to be you, you wanted to see him closer. you didn’t want anyone else near him, touching him, looking at him—but…but now…now you wanted to run away, you didn’t like it. you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

his warm eyes and gentle smile was not there. no instead their was an unfamiliar hardness replaced in the kneeled fighters face. raido held your hand, helping you into the ring as he handed you the medal to gift the fighter.

the stadium was filled with cheers and applause, you were dragging your feet, unaware of how close raido stayed, until you took another step forward and felt your body suddenly lunging forward. it was too fast to process, because suddenly your body was pressed firmly against toji’s warm body. you could feel his heart beating fast, and his hand was so softly resting on the back of your head. you hadn’t realized that he’d immediately took your wrist pulling you into his embrace.

“I guess the emperor also has a type!” the host laughed, taking the attention off the fighter as he joked, allowing raido to smirk at the fighter.

“seems like you’ve made your decision,” his words laced with snark and confidence.

“big talk after the fact,” toji couldn’t help the deep laugh that was crawling it’s way up his chest. you felt goosebumps erupt on your skin feeling his chest rumble with laughter. “ahh I guess I like games too,” toji’s glare immediately had raido averting his gaze as he walked away, not before looking down at you.

there was a brief moment of silence. he was sweaty, sticky, and clearly bothered. but his arms were careful not to hurt you.

“what’re you doing here?” his voice had shifted tones, suddenly your mind could immediately recognize he was directing this to you.

“I came with my friends,” you gulp.

“if I ever catch you here again—“ your head pushes off to look him in the eyes, letting his words be directed at you and not the air, he falls silent. words caught in his throat, green eyes wavering as he met your bright ones. he cursed himself even more, his heart was hammering uncontrollably.

“who are you to tell me—“ his hand pulls you to his shoulder, fingers behind your neck as your eyes looked past his shoulder feeling his lips tickle your cheek as he spoke.

your mind flashes to the night your classmate walked you home. you spent some extra time in the lab to finish some work and test out a certain theory you wanted to run by your professor. you could tell your lab partner was trying to get with you. he constantly hit on you, flirted during your labs, but he was pretty charming. so you weren’t afraid when he asked to walk you home.

toji had been roaming around the building. he knocked on your door a few hours ago. he’d ordered some food for when you get back. this time it was his treat. you were always home at this hour. why do I care? toji was coming back from getting a drink from the store when he noticed the exchange happening in front of the building.

you were holding your bag, lips moving as you spoke with your hands. the unfamiliar man stood in front, his eyes darting over your figure. his fingers grazing your exposed shoulder—

“ah!” your body was suddenly yanked back, hitting a firm body. “toji?” glancing over your shoulder at the man holding your wrist, meeting your gaze. why did he do that? he had no clue what was going on. “this is my lab par—“

“I ordered thai,” he cuts you off. he was praying you couldn’t see the warm heat crawling up his ears.

“oh, okay, I’ll be right up—“

“it’ll get cold, you don’t like cold drunken noodles,” he said holding your wrist a bit more gently as he pulled you with him. ignoring all the alarms going off in his head.

“y/n—“ your lab partner called, as you glanced over your shoulder.

“I’ll send over the report tomorrow morning,” unbeknownst to you, toji was glaring aggressively at the man. a giant guard dog looming over you, immediately making him feel unsafe as he quickly went off.

“did you wait long?” you opened your apartment, allowing toji to sit in the living room, legs crossed as he opened up the food, laying it out.

“no,” his tongue darted out touching his scar. eyes following your form as you disappeared into your room. the door slightly ajar, self control wasn’t something toji was familiar with. especially when it came to you. he couldn’t help his eyes from watching your form pull over your top.

fuck, his gaze dragged over the brief glimpses of your naked back. he wondered how his rough hands would feel against the soft skin, how his lips would feel as he searched the spot that’d make you whine. why’re his pants getting tight, he gulped seeing you slip on a loose fitting tshirt, kicking off your pants.

his mind ran wild. eyes darkening, he wanted to bend you over right there. he wanted to feel your ass against his palm, he wanted to kiss your shoulder, stroke his palm down to your warm pussy. how wet would you be? would you shy under his gaze or rut against his hand. ahh he’d peel your pretty pink panties to the side and pull his fat length—

“you didn’t have to wait,” you quickly shuffled out of the room, yellow shorts flowing against your glowing thighs, plopping down in front of your neighbor.

“you’re the one that likes having the first bite,” he quips, ignoring the bulging hard on he’s carrying for you.

“nuh-uh, I just like—“ his fingers slip a spring roll in your mouth,

“having the first bite,” he finishes, watching you take a bite, cheeks heating aggressively as he brushed the crumbs from your lips.

“you my maid now?” you say with a mouth full, trying to conceal your arousal.

“you’d like that. like it when i feed you?” he tilts his head, eyes half lidded as he watched you blink. “cat got your tongue?”

“no,” you huff, embarrassed how flustered you’re getting.

“open your mouth,” his command automatically had your lips parting as he slipped in a noodle, not bothering to use his chopsticks, allowing his fingers to touch your wet lips. your lips enclosed around his two fingers.

“you like sucking on my fingers?” his experience with previous women, was able to shield his beating heart. so infatuated with your warm mouth licking his finger, rolling over the pads of his rough digit. he swore under his breath, pulling his fingers out as he dragged your bottom lip down. your tongue lulling out in submission.

“are you still a virgin?” his thumb pulled at your bottom lip. your legs were clenching together, a warmth pooling inside your light pink panties. shifting for some friction.

“you have a corruption kink or something?” you bite his thumb.

“not necessarily,” he swears as you suck on his thumb, eyes fluttering as you open your lips to take little breaths. “you like sucking on people’s fingers?” his pupils were dilating.

“your not just people,” you reply, toji cursing at your flustered state.

“you’re not hungry?” he bites his cheek, shifting his weight feeling his dick straining.

“oh, ya,” your lips peeling away from his thumb as toji brushes his hand atop your head. petting you as you generously ate the food he’d ordered. your eyes would dart up to meet his, but he only ate his food as if you hadn’t just been sucking on his fingers, visibly turned on by it too. instead, toji helped you clear the rest of the food as he cleaned it up.

“you have more work?” he walked back into the small living room seeing your papers now piled on the table. your hand switching between jotting notes with your pencil, to typing quickly on your laptop.

“I have a report I need to finish up,” toji suddenly remembered the encounter earlier. he was unfamiliar with this feeling. he couldn’t understand why he pulled you away from that kid. and he couldn’t reason why he isn’t sitting in his usual place across from you, but instead plants himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

your body was on a fire. huh? “you t-tired?” you cleared your throat trying to remain calm.

“thought I’d keep ya company,” he mumbled, lips pressing feather like kisses on your exposed neck. your eyes fluttered as his hand brushed your exposed thigh. “you’re burning up,” he whispers, causing your head to lull back on his shoulder as his palm generously squeezed your hip. “I’m distracting you?”

“ya,” you sigh, whimpering oh so softly.

“if I asked you to let my eat your pussy, how wet would you get?” your definitely blew a fuse. head steaming as you clenched around nothing, definitely soaking your panties completely. Toji’s head went back in laughter.

“asshole!” you elbow his side, making him groan. “don’t tease virgins! it’s not nice!” you turn back to your work, desperately trying to calm your body.

toji settled peacefully behind you. eyes following your homework as if he wasn’t sporting a hard boner that was pressed against your lower back.

“toji-“

“keep working, I’ll keep up,” he reassured, ignoring your stiff body until you returned to your work. shoulders slowly relaxing, body easily molding in his embrace as he’d mumble here and there. couldn’t you also use this formula? how’d you get to that? his fingers danced on your thigh, gently massaging the flesh of your inner thigh, his warm palm had a wave of heat coursing down south, and he didn’t care.

his fingers would tickle as he crawled higher up to the pulsing heat. your shorts loose enough for his fingers to slip inside your pant hole and tickle your panties. your breathing hitched as toji continued talking as if this was just one of your normal little sessions. it was a good distraction.

“I’m sorry,” toji retracted his hand, you were too focused on your work to hear what he’d said, but his hand returned to your thigh.

nothing happened after. toji fell asleep beside you, legs stretched out under the table as he laid on his side, arm swung over your lap as you finished up your work before you too crashed on the floor. and yet…here you are now…

“you wanna act like a bratty little college kid, then go get fucking wasted at some fucking party and stay up late smokin’ pot, fuck if I care,” his voice dropped, warm breath only sending a cold feeling across your body, “go on a date somewhere else. get your pussy wet fucking on some ferris wheel,” you felt sick the more he went. “but don’t you dare come back here.” your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. “do I make myself clear?”

you aggressively try to push him away only for his grip to tighten clearly not finished. “you’re a big fucking problem, we talk a couple times doesn’t give you any idea what position you’ve put me in. I’m not your fucking boyfriend or some shitty friend; you’re nothing to me. so you’re going to leave and I never…never want to see your face again.”

you finally get free with a harder push, falling back on your ass. eyes wavering on his face. you couldn’t recognize him. this wasn’t the same man who’d walk with you late at the night, he wasn’t the kind man that would pat your head whenever you did something good…no…this wasn’t him.

the long nights spent in your apartment explaining equations, only for him to gradually catch up in which he’s finally beginning to understand the problems on his own. sharing food as you’d lean over the table to correct his problems and he wouldn’t feel insecure in the least bit that you’re a girl and you’re helping him. smarty pants, don’t let it get to your head.

“y/n—“ your friend’s calls fall on deaf ears as you quickly made your exit, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

toji quietly watched until you were completely out of his sight. allowing him the opportunity to have his full attention on the men in the booth. dead men walking………

“what’re you doing?” toji stood from his spot as he watched you walking down the path, clearly trying to get back home. “y/n!”

you didn’t answer, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, one arm across your stomach holding your side, as the other wiped the tears that felt endless.

the fighters jaw clenched as he watched you completely ignore him. his chest filling with frustration because how could this have happened. it was a message—someone was definitely targeting you in order to get to him—

a sudden yelp had toji immediately kicking off the pavement, arm around your waist keeping you from hitting the ground. you struggled in his hold, desperately trying to wiggle out “let…go,” your hands were clawing at his forearm, whining when he wouldn’t set you free.

“let me help you—“

“no!” you shout, only to whimper quickly after, suddenly feeling the kicks you received earlier. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“what’re you talkin—“

“you didn’t want me! I’m sparring you the trouble it’ll cause,” toji could feel your body trembling, your eyes stinging with anger and pain.

“hey…hey, take a deep breath, can you do that for me?” toji sets aside any of his own thoughts in order to calm your mind. talking you through deep breaths as he carefully kept his arm around your waist, until you were stepping into your apartment. sitting you down on the couch and moving to the bathroom.

“I guess it really would be trouble,” you mumble faintly, however, the man is able to pick up on it as he opens the first aid supplies. his green eyes flickering up to see your own swollen ones staring outside.

“I’m sorry,” your eyes return to him, watching as he gently cleans the cut on your lip and cheek. you don’t look at him. look at me, please! his thoughts were scrambled. no don’t, I don’t deserve it…

you felt your chest tighten, feeling the weight—he buried his face in your lap, hands gripping the sides of your long green skirt. your lips trembling as you watched his shoulders shake with anger. he’d unbuttoned your cream shirt, and he physically felt nauseous.

he’s caused worse, he’s received worse. but the dark bruise on your side looked like the worst possible damage in the world to him.

“why’re you mad?” your jaw clenched, blood boiling at his audacity. he had no right.

“I’ll kill them,” his words were muffled, he couldn’t think straight. “I’ll kill then all—“

“why?” his head snapped up, looking at you as if you’d just asked the most bizarre question ever.

“why?” he repeated, trying desperately to control his breathing, yet his eyes continued to look at the dark purple bruise.

“yes. why,” you pushed his hands off you, cursing as you stumbled only for his hands to come up to your waist, allowing you another chance to push them away.

“why? because they fucking hurt you!” he shouted, no longer able to contain his anger. especially with how loose you’re taking this. “you’re bleeding, and bruised—“

“nothings broken,” you snap back, staring out the window, not giving him the time of day.

“don’t be stupid.”

“what?” you whip your head over your shoulder, brows pinched. “you’ve come back with black eyes, the guys in that ring have broken bones, smashed in faces—“

“fuck kinda comparison are you tryna make here?!”

“the one between you and me,” your eyes were leaking, unbothered as you ripped out the pages throwing them piece by piece. “I’m the fucking problem, but I’m the one that you always come too. I’m hurt, but you’re always angry! you’re always angry even if you’re quiet even when you’re teasing me. I’m the idiot, but you’re an even bigger one!”

he stood silent.

“I left you alone because I thought… that it would stop your pain,” toji felt his heart squeeze, he didn’t like seeing you like this. what’s happening right now? of course this is his fault. when is it ever not his fault!? he’s brought this life on you, he caused this. only you’ve ever called him smart, but this man was nothing close to being smart. instead letting his mouth speak on foolish impulse.

“maybe i need to get further away.”

your tears collecting in your broken eyes. throat dry, lungs gradually running out of air over the course of the night.

“fuck…fuck y-“ you were holding your chest, clawing at your skin as you ran out of oxygen, breathing turning into hiccups for air. toji was an idiot.

stupid mouth. his body never listens. immediately holding you as he kneeled with your falling body.

“y/n! y/n, listen to my voice,” he held your cheek as you gasped for air, your panic attack sending your mind into a state of shock. “calm down…breathe, babygirl.”

your nails dug into his wrist, getting scared the more you tried to calm down. “breathe with me, come on, I know you’re a smart girl.” he held your hand letting you place it on your stomach allowing you a conscious physical feeling of breathing in and out, as he did it with you.

the panic attack slowly began to subside as you took in a few more deep breaths. his warm hand littered with scars and open cuts, gently caressed your cheek. your eyes gazing up at him, you hated him. but that didn’t stop you from squeezing his wrist.

his heart couldn’t shut up, what am I doing? this was not what he’d been preaching. quite the opposite. this was the closest he’s been to you. arms protectively holding you close. his cheek propped on his elbow as he gazed down at your sleeping form. cheeks still a bit damp. your scent engulfing him as he felt high.

“idiot.”

“are you still mad at me?” toji leaned against the vending machine as he watched you walk past him. you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder for the past month. and yet, he still stayed on you like a lost puppy.

“you’re the one that’s mad,” you roll your eyes, laughing to yourself when he’d do his routine of jogging up beside you, hands deep in his pockets as he accompanied you in your night shopping.

“why’re you still going out at night?” he huffed, frowning as he tilted his head staring at you from the side.

“I have errands.”

“which can be done later. can’t you be more cautious?” his jaw clenched.

“but you’re here,” you finally look at him. he blinks for a moment, noticing that the bruise on your cheek has healed, along with the cut on your lip.

“well, i won’t always be,” he bit his cheek, noticing your gaze still on him.

“then leave,” you pick up the pace. toji was starting to grow frustrated. you were not cautious. you went about your life as if there’s no risk. you didn’t care if it was night or day. you did as you pleased as if you hadn’t experienced a traumatizing event a month ago. and that terrified the man.

his hand held your arm, turning you back to him. “what’s going on? what’s the problem?”

“you tell me?” you shove back at him.

“you!” why does he always get so angry. “you’re the fucking problem!” toji cursed over and over. “why can’t you listen to me?”

“you’re nothing to me,” you threw his words back at him. he clenched his jaw.

“what do you want from me?” he needed you, he needed you so badly, but you can not choose him. he won’t allow you to trust him. not even if he’d give his life for you.

“you—“ your jaw clenched as well. he always makes your blood boil. “you’re just an idiot,” you burst. “fucking idiot!” you stomp away. “fuck you!”

“fuck you!” he yelled back.

toji cursed following you to and back from the store. “y/n!” toji called as you sped to your apartment, only for the door to slam in his face. “fuck me.”

his shoulders dropped, leaning his head against your door. what is he doing? he can’t put you through this, yet he already is. he was unfamiliar with this feeling. longing for someone. he didn’t like how calm he felt in your company. how his stomach churned whenever you’d meet his eyes with you’re bright and pure ones. you were too good for him. you were smart and ambitious. you had no limits, but if he was there he’d only drag you down. he wasn’t good for you.

the blood splattered on the floor. the cheers faded in the background as toji rolled his shoulders back. he was surprised to see the opponent rise to his feet. he usually had no thoughts except the job in mind during these matches. yet, it always gets scrambled when one person faces him.

not here.

your arms and legs crossed, leaning against the seats in the second row, chin up as you maintained eye contact on the ring, specifically the star of the night.

toji could not afford to loose out on the money. he’d already gotten to the sixth round, barely keeping this opponent alive in order to break his right arm, and two ribs. but you’re here. why!

“fuck!” toji rinsed his mouth with the water. letting his team slip the guard back in his mouth, eyes sharp as he met your gaze. he was angry. feral. but you stay unfazed.

fuck it. this is what you wanted. he wanted you to leave him. so he’ll lay out all his cards. no limits.

he looked like a beast, his agility was superhuman, and his strength could not compare to anyone else. he snapped the man’s arm with a quick and calculated jab to the joint, and a hook directly hitting his bottom two ribs, cracking them instantly. the man’s scream and the sound of bones breaking made audiences cheer or look away gagging.

your grip was tight, nails digging into your bicep as you averted your eyes down. your heart was hammering. what’re you doing here? you’re asking for it now! but you looked up, as horrified as you felt, it didn’t compare to the complete and utter hurt in toji’s eyes.

you stayed seated, people jumping around you, an audience member handing toji another medal, that was cheap and easily disposable. his looming form stood back up, taking quick and long strides across and out of the ring, until an arm wrapped around your bicep.

“ow!” you wince, his strength was something you couldn’t compete with. “owww toji!”

“this hurts?” he snaps, not letting go until you’ve made it all the way outside, having gone through a back passage, as he finally let go of you. the sounds of cars and a bustling night city in the distance.

“you hurt me!” you yell back.

“was I? I didn’t know,” his words laced with sarcasm. his hands rubbing his face. he was angry. “are you dumb?”

“no.”

“yes,” his eyes follow you. arms crossed again.

“why’re you so mad?” you’re really pushing his buttons.

“I’m the idiot!?” he exclaims. “Me!? fuck me!”

“you said I’m nothing, so why do you care so much? honestly it’s hypocritical. I can do what I want—“

“no you can’t! do you like acting like a fucking brat? you’re not allowed here—“

“who says?”

“me!” his chest is fuming, eyes wide and tired. “I said I don’t want to see you here.”

“no you said you never wanted to my face ever again. anywhere. but you’ve been breaking your dumbass rule over and over again. so it’s only fair that I do too,” his jaw clenches. “and I’m not a brat.”

“go home, y/n,” toji turns around, there’s no use wasting his breath. you’ve always been stubborn, since the day you’ve met. at least he dragged you away from the eyes inside—

his breath hitched. a weight pressed up against his back. toji felt his heart pulse, swallowing slowly as he feels your arms tighten around his fit waist. your hands were always so cold, so why was his body on fire? your face pressed deeper against his shoulder blades. “let go.”

“no,” you can feel your heart beating against your chest, stomach churning as you hold onto him so dearly. “I’m not leaving without you.” the fighter swears under his breath, eyes clenched tight recalling all the blood on his hands, the ghosts of the past. yet here’s an angel unable to let go of a monster—

“y/n, i said let go,” his hands try to pull your wrists off him, but you’re grasping onto him so desperately as you shake your head behind him. “stop acting like this!”

he’s able to get free, spinning around to face you. your hands balled into fists. he doesn’t need to say anything, he can easily read your expression. your lip jutted out, your eyes darting between his devoid of any ounce of doubt. his breath hitched. why are you so obsessed with getting hurt?

he left again—

that didn’t seem to work though. you were persistent. you came almost every night. watching every single one of his matches. it didn’t matter if you had work all day or exams the night morning. you would still show up. he would shout, yell, curse—repeatedly urging you to fucking listen to him—

“It’s fucking dangerous! what don’t you get?!”

“well that’s my fucking problem then,” you shrug, only causing the fighter to slam his fist behind you, cursing as the concrete alley wall broke the skin of his knuckles.

“fuck me,” his head dropped, brows scrunched. he can’t do everything. living this kind of life and having you. it was impossible. “I need to keep you safe.” he mumbles.

“i don’t need saving—“

“yes, you do,” he feels your delicate hand lift his head. “why’re you doing this to me? you’re always messing with my head,” he curses, your hands feel so nice. they could probably cleanse him of everything he once was, the horrors of his life and the trauma of the past. but he didn’t need the dirt staining you too.

“I’m not doing anything,” you answer, thumb carefully touching the scar on his lip. heart fluttering as his eyes fell to your lips. his entire being was fighting not to crash his lips onto yours. he wanted to know what you felt like. he could’ve done it with you ages ago, but it didn’t feel right. he didn’t want to disappear the next day. if he wanted to have you, he’d become obsessed—

“do I have to choose?” you couldn’t fully understand his predicament. you didn’t even know how dark his past was. but to you it didn’t matter. none of it mattered except that you could see the giant burden that had this man walking with a weight on his shoulders. living a life of crime and misery, when he had so much potential. potential that he thought to be useless, that was told by others was useless. but not to you. he was a diamond in the rough, and you were not letting that go.

“up to you,” you pulled away this time. as much as you held on, you couldn’t chain him down. he had to set himself free, you just gave him the key.

you knew what you were doing was dangerous. but you only had his best interests in mind—

the banging on the door startled you up. your eyes wavering at the extensive pounding. fuck fuck fuck, you messed up big time! it was because you kept going to his fights, now those men are here to kill you! skin you alive! fuck!

“shit,” you tripped getting off the couch, banging your side on the coffee table, hand quickly slapping over your mouth. the bangs were not stopping, praying the killer hadn’t heard you. your knees scurry across the floor reaching for the baseball bat—

“y/n, open the fucking door!” your hand freezes on the bat, ears perking. “y/n! come on I know you’re here!—“

“don’t fucking scare me like that!” you shout, swinging the door open, only to stumble back as toji grabbed hold of you. “what the fu—“ your eyes blow wide. “what the fuck!”

toji was drenched in blood. face splattered, arms and clothes—

“are you okay?!” his hand held your face, looking over it.

“me? what’re you—look at yourself!” your eyes couldn’t catch up with all the blood. was it his?

“stop yelling!”

“you’re yelling!” you curse as toji holds your wrist dragging you into the apartment. his hands moving around grabbing alcohol as he began listing a bunch of things as you ran from your apartment to his, not having time to look around before running back and dropping everything on the table.

“what do I do?” your eyes were shifting from toji’s face and his heaving body. suddenly feeling a warm weight press on your head.

“deep breath,” his voice sunk into your mind, gaze meeting as you swallowed thickly. “you’re fine?”

“stop asking that—“

“you’re fine? right?” his stern words immediately sent a flutter swarming inside you.

“yes…I’m fine,” your brows pinched together as he brushed his thumb across . “who’s bloo—“

“not mine…” he sighs tilting his head back against the couch. “not all of it is mine.” he takes a deep breath, “cut my shirt,” you immediately grab the scissors, cutting open his shirt, swallowing at the bloodied clothes as it fell down. you’re eyes darted around his body, the multiple scars and tattoos facing you now, but the bullet wounds on his side stood out.

“I’m not a surgeon—“

“you’re a nerd, don’t you read books?” he quips. your face shifting into anger, “there there, don’t get wet on me. I’ll talk you through it,” toji held your face, you’re panicked eyes couldn’t wrap your head around this. “now grab that scalpel—“

this didn’t seem like the first time something like this had happened. but it was the first time he was asking someone for help. his eyes followed your face, you’d mumble back to him after every order. “liking science doesn’t make me a surgeon.”

“just a bratty nerd, gonna run your mouth all night?” toji tsked, “ow! fuck!”

“maybe remember who has the knife right now.”

“scalpel, dummy,” toji corrects.

“scalppel, dummy,” you mimic, rolling your eyes with a huff. toji had a mouth on him, but it really came out when you had to dig for the bullet in his side.

“sorry,” you cringe, watching toji fall back on the couch.

“forgot how clumsy your hands are,” he sighed, your hands were shaky and it wasn’t helping. but eventually you pulled out the bullet and continued listening to his instructions.

“are you usually this submissive?” he was patting your head, eyes half lidded as he watched you work. you were wearing your pajamas. it was past midnight, his eyes flickering up to see your show paused. it was a bad habit of yours, staying up late to binge show.

“just when you’re half dead,” toji snorts.

“worth it,” his eyes follow your concentrated face, nose scrunched up as you finish stitching his hip.

“why are you not explaining anything?” your eyes dart to catch his.

“you didn’t ask,” he maintains eye contact. his smile only causing you to raise a brow.

“why’re you smiling?” you cut the end of the suture.

“is that not allowed?”

“it’s creepy.”

“you don’t like anything I do,” he rests his head to the side, staring up at you as you cover his stitches.

“that’s no true,” you mumble, still focused on treating him.

“then tell me,” his hand reaches up, cupping your cheek.

“huh?”

“tell me what you like about me?” his body was exhausted, yet he still had time to make you feel anxious, butterflies swarming inside you.

“i-i…” your face was heating up, words getting caught in your throat. “maybe you tell me what you like about me first!”

“your head,” toji easily answers. you snort, only for him to continue. “you’re the smartest person I know.” his grin suddenly has your chest warming. “you’re a good teacher.” his hand slides down to hold your hand instead, playing with your small fingers. “you’re pretty cute when you help me out. you rant a lot, and go on about stuff that I don’t fully get, but it’s cute in its own way. especially when we’re together here and you get nervous when I—“

“stop!” toji looks up, heart swelling as he sees the flustered state he’s put you in. it was too easy. “why did you actually answer,” you’re looking down at your hands, the dried blood didn’t phase you.

“you asked.”

“I did but like…”

“not good with your feelings?” toji clicks his tongue.

“my feelings?!” you blurt, cheeks flushed. “you-you’re just…”

“just what?” his arms suddenly hoist you up, planting you on his lap.

“what’re you doing?” you yelp, holding his shoulders as he leans his head up, sly grin painted on his lips.

“nothing,” you almost blew a fuse. the fairy lights casted a shadow over his face, his pupils dilated, lips parted. why does he look so good right now? one second he was bleeding out on your couch, the other he’s fucking teasing you!

“don’t,” you cover your face quickly, trying desperately to control your breathing. if he had you…if you gave yourself up and he continued this life, you didn’t know if your heart could bare it. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” your words were muffled.

“this was the last time,” his hands wrapped around your small hands. “no more fighting.” you allowed him to see your flustered face. your lips wet and pouty, eyes half lidded. oh fuck. “that’s not the kind of face of someone that’s worried.”

“I am!”

“then why do I wanna kiss you right now?” your breath hitched, cueing the man to crash his lips against yours not wasting a single second.

your mind burst. stunned whines fall on deaf ears as toji holds your neck, thumb pressing up on your jaw, tilting your head as he devoured your lips. tongue slipping into your inviting lips as you held his wrist.

“you’re done?” you pant, “you’re done with that life?” toji kisses your lips again, the pecks expressing how much he’s longed for this. “will everything be okay?”

his lips trailed down the column of your neck. “I’ll make it okay,” he bit down on your shoulder causing a moan to slip out. “as long as you’re here.”

your hands pulled his face back up, lips attacking his once again. he smiled feeling your inexperience desperately crave for his attention, how cute. he helped your lips move with his, tongue playing as he held your hip against him, feeling his own arousal stir up.

“is it gonna hurt?” you mumble, fingers tangled in his hair.

“I’ll open you up, so you’re all wet and loose fer me. I’ll stretch you-“

“wait!” toji looks up. stunned to see your flustered expression. “I meant is it gonna hurt you? you’re the one who’s beaten up!” you blurt, still trying to wrap your head around what he’d just said. toji broke into loud laugh, cackling as he slipped his hands under your shirt.

“you’re so cute,” he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft tissue as you whine. the man grins once he pulls away to see you chasing after his lips. his fingers dragging your shirt over your head.

your cheeks darken as you feel the breeze against your exposed chest. nipples perking up like good little buds.

“aww, you got all hard,” he cooes, almost sending you into a coma as he caresses the soft tissue. his hands were huge, molding your tits in his grip. thumbs circling the pretty pebbles.

“you’re staring too much,” you cower, hands going to his eyes, as toji chuckles.

“getting shy now?”

“no, just—stop staring, perve—ah,” your face twists, body almost convulsing as toji pinches your sensitive nipples, only to latch his lips around one. “what the—ahh, you’re,, hahh-ah you’re biting!”

your hands grip the back of his neck, hips lifting as he held your chest to his face, sucking dark bruises on your bouncy tits. his voice groaning as he stared up at you. so pretty…so pretty… he couldn’t stop. he wanted to see more. wanted to hear more. he needed to touch more.

“pullin my hair?” his chest rose and fell, cheeks flushed a dark pink as your fingers held the back of his head, holding him back with his hair.

“you just started touching me!” you were beyond flustered. your face and chest flushed, nipples so perky and wet, you looked so fucking gorgeous.

“I can leave.”

“will you?” your fingers loosened from his hair.

“no,” his lips ghosting your own. “i wanna kiss you. touch you…I wanna fuck you so good, sweetheart.” your legs tried to close, but you only pressed down on his lap. “you’d like that?” his lips curled up. it was too easy to read your body. “you’re still a virgin right?”

“you really do have a corruption kink!” you blurt, cheeks puffed. “ah-you’re always biting—toji!” your arms squeeze in, unconsciously pressing your tits together as your pretty voice rises. his teeth nibbling at your nipples again. only to lift you up, tossing you beside him.

“i only have one for you,” his lips trailed down your body, sucking and biting as you squirmed. fingers permanently in his hair as he relished in your rough pulling.

“how are you gonna open me up?” you use his words from earlier, panting softly as you held his hair. his eyes smiled as he licked his scar.

“how do you want me too?”

your cheeks were flushed, yet you’re able to suck up the courage to place your tongue between your middle and forefinger.

he kissed his teeth, “dirty fucking girl, who taught you that?” his dick throbbed in his pants watching you act up from how turned on you were.

“what if I’m not a virgin?” you didn’t know what you were saying, maybe you just wanted to see how he’d react. you didn’t expect his lips to curl into a sinister smile as you watched your shorts fly off your body.

“then I’ll have to fuck you until your pussy can only cum for me,” his lips licked your torso, biting down as you squirmed, whines music to his ears. “but looking at how drenched your cute panties are, I doubt you’re anything but a pretty little virgin desperate to get her pussy ate.”

“toji, you’re too foul mouthed,” you whine, contradicting your so called pride as your hips try to get him to go lower. pressing his head down.

“shit, you’re teasing me now,” he dropped his forehead on your belly, laughing as he rubbed the outside of your thighs, fingers curling around the pretty light pink panties. “let’s make you cry, baby.”

you gasped, toji ripping the material of your panties as he brought your panties up to his face. “these are cute,” he grins watching your face steaming.

“stop doing weird stuff!” you slap his chest lightly, afraid of hurting him.

“just complimenting you, pretty,” he inhales the material, causing you to cry in embarrassment. “fine, fine, I’ll do that on my own,” he teases.

“perve!” he opens your legs nice and wide for his eyes. pupils dilating to a high at the jaw dropping sight. you forget your embarrassment, caught off guard by his reaction. he was mesmerized.

“fuck baby, fuck you were hiding this for so long,” toji was audibly groaning at the sight. pre-cum staining his boxers as his big cock throbbed at the sight. your pussy was finally visible to his eyes, his rough hands keeping them open as he watched your gapping hole throb.

“toji! you’re so shameless!”

“me?” his tongue kissed his teeth. his thumb suddenly began circling your clit, your juices immediately coating it. “you’re absolutely drenched,” he’s had his fair share of ‘long nights’ yet not once has he encountered someone that’s made him so visibly aroused without touching him. “you’re fucking leaking, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

“toji—wai—ahh—uh!” your screams bounced off the small apartment walls as his lips latched onto your clit, sucking desperately. he was buried between your legs, nose deep in your pretty cunt as he sucked and lapped, moaned and whined, he can’t even recall a moment when he’s felt so fucking good. has eating pussy always made him this aroused? no…fuck, he was really hard…it was just you.

“you taste so good,” his eyes were glazed over as your fingers dug into his scalp. thighs tightening around his head as your back arched off the couch, crying out. he was humming in encouragement, egging you for more until the cord finally snapped.

“ ‘m cum—ah! ‘m cumming!” your body convulsed as toji drank everything up. his tongue inside your hole as you gripped his hair whining, riding out his flicking tongue. he didn’t stop after you finished. “toji!” you gasp, pushing his head away.

“that was just my tongue, need to stretch you now,” his lips sucked bruises on your inner thigh, trailing over your hipbone as you let him kiss you over and over.

“are you gonna put your fingers inside me?” you were panting, yet you couldn’t help the twitch between your legs. his lips curled, rubbing his middle and ring finger across your bottom lip.

“i know how much you like sucking them,” he cooes, watching your pulp lips part so obediently. “there’s my good girl,” his praises run straight down as you start to feel lightheaded. tongue lapping and swirling around his digits, it felt so nice having him inside your mouth. you couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel to suck his dick. the weight in your mouth, his hand petting your head over and over. he was definitely big—

“my virgin baby likes to tease me,” he feels his dick straining in his pants. he replaces his fingers with his lips. his arm wrapping around your waist as your legs crossed behind his back, smiling once he leaned up, letting you sit back in his lap. his fingers ghosting your hole before carefully pushing in. his eyes went bright as he watched your lips part.

“feels good,” you hold his face, wiggling your hips as he pumps his fingers. fuck, she’s so cute!

your nails dig into his shoulder. it was easy moving you around, spreading your legs further to pump another finger inside, cheek flushing deep red as he had you cumming once more. the moans only getting higher and louder as your juices trickled down his hand.

“your pussy’s doing so well for me,” he praises, cupping your pussy, pressing his palm down, before raising it to give it a slap.

“ahh!” your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as he rubs your pussy some more. his thumb pulls at your bottom lip as you loll your tongue out, letting his tongue glide over.

your lips play with each other, allowing him to nibble and bite at your bottom lip enough to have you shivering and rocking your hips desperately. you’re out of breath as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your burning neck, before sucking another dark bruise.

“can I have it now?” you pant, so blessed out but so desperate for it

“it?” he teases, fingers digging into your ass as he grips your cheeks firmly, pressing you down on his fat bulge, rocking you over him.

“want it,” you bite his ear, holding his hand as you place it on your lower belly. “feels so empty without you,” you’re practically purring. “fill me up, toji.”

fuck!

toji swears under his breath, his pants on the ground and boxers tossed in a random direction as he lets his fat dick slap his tummy. your eyes gloss over at the pretty sight. his angry big cock glistening with his precum as it trickled down the bulging veins on the underside of his girthy length.

“now who’s staring, perv?” your cheeks flush at his words. toji scoops your dripping pussy as he wraps his strong hand around his thick dick as he begins pumping the pulsing ache. “keep yer eyes on me, pretty.”

“toji,” you whine as you shiver at how lewd he looked. face flushed, chest heaving as the tattoos accentuated his well sculpted body. his lips were parted as deep grunts flowed from his pretty lips.

“I’m so hard, fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, babygirl,” his head was tilting up to catch your lips again bringing your hand to his dick. his body shivering as your small soft hands wrapped around him. “good girl,” he cooes in bliss as you follow his movements.

his eyes watch your cute face staring at the way his cock twitches and leaks, hypnotized by the lewd scene. his stomach clenched, getting worked up. “keep looking at me like that and I’ll cum,” he pants, “i like when you stare at me.” you flush at his words.

“it’s big,” you mumble to yourself, lost in a trance you hadn’t noticed your words left your lips until toji drops his head back in laughter.

“need to make you feel all nice and snug, ya?” your thighs clenched around him. “wanna be a big girl and put it inside?” your head nodded immediately.

he helped you sit up, body hovering over his pulsing dick. is it gonna hurt? it’s so big! you want it inside you now! but how? “relax, y/n,” your eyes soften a bit at his call. his cock swiped through your wet folds, teasingly circling your tight entrance, before he held your hip with one hand and the other held your hand between your bodies as you squeezed it tight.

“ah, ‘s big, toji…toji—uh,” your whines were music to his ears, his dick only growing in size as you struggled to take just his tip.

“your pussy is squeezing me baby, relax,” he squeezed your hip in reassurance, only for your nails to dig into his hand as your eyes glossed over, panting heavier.

“it hurts…feels good tho….ah ah i—toji!” your face was pressed into his neck, absolutely stunning the man. did you just?

“I’m barely half way in, pretty” toji’s voice sent aftershocks as you shivered from your unexpected orgasm. “you’ve ever fucked yourself?”

“just played with my clit,” you mutter in embarrassment, averting your gaze.

“fuck me” his heart was beating as his cock pulsed. he was the first to be inside you, his hips jerked up unconsciously.

you whined, wiggling your hips as toji’s body caught on fire as he suddenly lifted you up. your eyes widening as your hands gripped his shoulders, stunned at his crazy strength. “sorry baby, I can’t hold back anymore.”

“huh? to—toji!” your scream pierced the air as he dropped your entire weight down on his dick, snuggling his full length in your warm tight cunt. your eyes rolled back in absolute bliss.

“shit! you’re squeezing me to death,” his body didn’t stop. it seemed like you’d forgotten how he was when he fights. even though the man was just shot and endured minutes of stitching, he had enough stamina to fuck you long and hard.

his cock squelching every time he thrusted. letting your pretty tits bounce in his face as he bit and sucked. the slight red that trickled down to the white cream base that decorated his cock had him going absolutely feral.

“lost your little virginity,” toji groans, you were squeezing him so tight. he’s dreamt of this for so long. squeezing your ass as he fucked up into you, slapping your ass every couple of seconds to hear the way you cry out his name, tears hitting his face.

he’s been dreaming of this. every time he’d stay up late with you, as much as he enjoyed solving your old homework and learning, he couldn’t help his mind from pondering when he’d finish. gazing up briefly to see your cute little face scrunched up in concentration, how much he wanted to bite your cheek, kiss your pouty lips.

“ so good…feel ‘s good, to…ah! uh uh! toji!” your high pitched screams were so beautiful. he didn’t care about the neighbors, or the noise complaints, not a single thing mattered other than wrecking the absolute shit out of the girl he’s been pinning over for months and months. he’s never felt so good inside someone. it was worth the torture of seeing you wearing you’re cute little shorts all the time, your tank tops that couldn’t hold in your tits all the way. the cute way you’d yell and tease him back.

“do you wanna cum for me, princess?”

“I wanna….yes…more please!” you were practically drooling as he let a glob of spit slip past your lips as you immediately came around his length. his cock was as hard as can be, holding your waist as he fell to the carpet floor, blanket falling to the ground as he laid you down, the pillow under your lower back. he pumped his dick between your legs as you panted, only to let out a loud gasp as he snapped his hips back inside.

“good girl, want all your pretty juices,” he praised. “fuck, I can’t live without you! so good, uh pretty girl,” his mind was so empty, the only things keeping him conscious was how much he needed you. his hand pinned both your arms above your head as he pounded into your squelching cunt.

“arch yer back, pretty,” you obey immediately, listening to the fighter as he groaned, feeling himself slide deeper. “atta girl.” your vision blurred the more pleasure toji pulled from you. “pretty girl, ugh, eyes on me,” he lets go of your hands, grabbing your face. “on me.”

your mind was so blissed out, his arms gripping under your knees, as he angled your hips higher, kneeling closer to your body as your ass slapped against his thick thighs, fat cock pounding your insides, kissing your cervix over and over. your arms splayed over your head as your back arched up, nails digging into the blanket underneath.

“taking my dick so well, uh, stretching ya out like a good fucking slut,” his chest was flushed, muscles flexing as your fingers went to pull him closer to you.

“I want more,” your words are slurred, eyes blinking with fat tears as you run your hands through his king raven hair, pulling him down closer as you take one of his pretty hands placing it on your lower belly. “want your cummy…toji…want it all inside me,” his cheeks beat red feeling his fat print bulging in your tummy.

“fuck,” his cock tightened, face scrunching as he felt your legs squeeze him. “don’t—don’t say things like that, baby.” his pace didn’t stop, keeping it rough and fast. the obscene noises only made your thoughts more hazy.

“I want it! ah ahh fill me up! want all of it, please!” your cries rang through the room as the man lost all vision. he wanted so desperately to paint your insides with his hot white cum. what would that feel like? to let go inside your untouched walls, to fill you with every drop of his heavy load—

“shit y/n!” toji bit down on your shoulder, groaning into your skin as you cried loudly, bucking your hips up meeting his thrusts as he cursed. “stop it baby,” he was desperately trying to hold onto his sanity, but you were making it too difficult.

your cries reached another pitch that he’s realized happens before you cum. rolling his hips into your pussy walls, your eyes practically crossed, drool sliding down your lips.

“shit! I’m so lucky,” he cursed, stunned by the shock, only to feel t your pussy clench desperately around him as your body shook, squirting clear liquid onto him.

“wanna be full, cum inside me, toji,” your legs locked around him, stopping him from escaping allowing his body to suddenly convulse. letting out a guttural groan feeling his abs constrict.

his head dropped against your own as he felt himself empty into your tight cunty. you rocked your hips with his as you milked out so much cum from his generous cock.

“so much, pretty boy,” you cooed, petting his hair as he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he continued cumming. he had so much for you, and you’d begged for it so sweetly, he couldn’t leave you empty until you were completely full.

“fuckin minx,” he licked the bite marks that decorated your neck. “take everything I’m giving you,” his chest heaved as he pushed himself up, meeting your lips. “you forced my hand, pretty.”

“kiss me more,” your lips caught his as he returned your sloppy kiss. tongues molding as he shivered, feeling you clench from the overstimulation.

he slowly pulled out, eyes half lidded at the sight of his cum oozing from your twitching hole. he almost passed out, but could only drop to your belly kissing it over and over as he pushed his cum back in. your fingers tangled in his hair, easily grabbing his attention as he crawls back up to you. your arms automatically wrapping around his shoulders, hugging him tightly.

“ya liked getting your pussy all filled up?” toji soothes his hands down your spine as you held him close.

“it was…” the sarcasm and rough exterior immediately fizzled. you felt so good right now. “nice,” you licked your lips, brushing them over his as his eyes fluttered. “don’t leave me, okay?” your sweet voice had toji blinking, before his eyes softened.

“I’ll die before I ever leave you,” he nudged his nose with yours, lips pressing firmly as you hugged him close. “you scared?” he felt your body shaking, suddenly growing worried.

your head shakes, “no….”

“y/n? baby, why’re you crying?” he was worried, his heart squeezing as he tried his best to wipe the falling tears.

“I’m not,” you sniffle, desperately trying to keep your composure, which only had your nose running and your eyes glaze even more. you looked so cute, is all he could think, but why’re you crying?

“you’re only allowed to cry about my big dick,” toji sighs, holding you close as he sits back against the couch on the floor. smiling when you break out into a laugh.

his chest rises and falls, closing his eye to rest his head back. your lips quiver, eyes looking over his tired body. fingers trailing over his tattoos, feather light touches as he begins to fall asleep.

“toji?” your soft voice calls him as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“hmm?” toji’s eyes are still closed, but he squeezes your hip to show that’s he’s listening.

“do you want to go to school?” your words are calm and collected, yet your heart is beating incredibly fast. you want him to get his degree, to pursue something he’s good at. though you’re pretty good at science, toji beats you in math. you didn’t know how he got to certain conclusions, yet it was all accurate.

“I want to be with you,” his words sent a fuzzy feeling inside, but you push it aside.

“seriously.”

“I’m being serious,” he blinks, eyes open. “you’re enough for me…” his words trail off. you’re silent for a moment, it seems like he was going to continue— “but I need to support you some way.” he smiles, pulling you closer. “think I can get my degree?”

your cheek flare as your eyes brighten big, toji flushed at your reaction as you nod excessively, making him laugh.

“cmere,” his hands bring you back to his lips. “I want more, all the time,” he sighs, licking your tongue.

“possessive much,” you try to hide your smile.

“very,” he squeezes you close. almost causing you to pass out until he gets comfortable. “now sleep.” he sighs, “I think I lost all my energy cumming half my existence inside your greedy fuckin cunt.”

“d-don’t say that!” you exclaim.

“It’s funny,” he laughs, tired eyes blinking to stay awake. “but your still leaking.”

you push off him, unable to take all this embarrassment, stumbling to your feet. “I’m gonna shower,” you huff, limping to the bath— “what! what’re you—“ you felt your body loose gravity, suddenly dangling in the air.

“you can’t even walk straight,” toji grunts, holding his side as he had you up in one arm.

“you’re bleeding through the bandages!” you gasp, seeing the blood trickle from the stitches you’d just sown. you struggle to get free.

“stop moving or I’ll open up the stitches.”

“what kind of—?!” you immediately shut up, brows pinched as toji dropped you in the bathroom, holding the sink as he winced. “I thought it wasn’t bad??”

“it wasn’t,” he turns on your shower. “but I couldn’t hold myself back when we were fucking.” he steps in, letting out a deep sigh as the water cascades over his body. the blood, sweat, and other fluids running down his sculpted legs and into the drain.

“we shouldn’t have done anything then—“

“I was too hard, something was gonna happen,” he extended his wet hand out. waiting for you. “cmon, don’t make that face.” your face is scrunched up in guilt and frustration.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt—“

“you said that already,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you inside. you hiss at the sudden water splashing on you.

“you only listen when you feel like it,” you tilt your head up, eyes rolled in annoyance only for toji to grab your cute cheeks and squeeze your face so your lips were jutting out in a cute pout.

“I always listen, so don’t be so worried,” he kisses your cheeks, reaching over for the shampoo. “now let’s clean you up.”

it didn’t fully dawn on you until you were laying under your soft comforter, warm body snugged close against you, face buried in your hair as his large arms held your back close to his chest. his hot breath even. but he was here. turning over, you gazed at his face, snuggling closer to him.

“toji” you whisper softly. It was a high possibility that he was fully knocked out now, but your fingers couldn’t stop caressing his cheek. his black lashes resting on his cheeks as his lips part with each soft breath. “I’ll do my best for you,” your own eyes starting to grow heavy. “so trust me, please.” your lips part to exhale.

“okay,” his lips gently press to your forehead. “I already chose you.”

---

BLACKMAIL KISS — h. ran

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a single night of rebellion against your husband, the mayor of Tokyo, in an underground Roppongi club, traps you right in Haitani Ran's web of blackmail and deceit—where every move you make could potentially be your last one.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── a bonten!haitani ran miniseries inspired by hametsu no itte

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bonten timeline, fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is feminine coded (wears dresses, heels, makeup), heavy tones of cheating/infidelity, DARK CONTENT, blackmail, political drama, non-con recording, drugging, mentions of cigarettes, mentions of alcohol & drugs, edging training, tease and denial, orgasm control, phone sex, petnames (princess, good girl, whore, slut), coercion, reader is forced to take nudes, HEAVY TOPICS PROCEED WITH CAUTION

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── bittersweet blackmail with this playlist

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── masterlist

#1: i made another mistake

As a child, growing up with any lack of good direction or faith gave Haitani Ran an almost scary sixth sense when a person was completely foreign to his world of sin and greed. 

Ran liked to think it was also his entire adult life spent in Kanto Manji, and now, Bonten which helped him discern the different types of brokenness in this messed up world. 

It was a game he played with himself; observing the way some of them walked—an errant glance away or a quirk which would draw his sleepy-sharp lilac eyes to their floundering presence. He could almost always tell which girls in his club were the runaways. The druggies. The ones with abusive boyfriends. Sometimes, he liked to make a bet with his brother, Rindou, and see which one of them could get close enough—fast enough—to fuck the truth out of these crummy girls. 

But, in all fairness, Ran’s game must be growing weak because the woman who had just entered his club was a complete enigma. 

The taste of Hennesy was strong on his tongue; his hand clawing the warming glass with an uncharacteristic tension. Mikey had just expressed his suspicions of a mole in the organisation this afternoon, and Ran was on edge from figuring out which of the newly onboarded goons seemed the most suspicious. 

In his heightened state of paranoia, he couldn’t be faulted for immediately spotting you from his perch in the VIP room the very second you stepped in. 

Neatly styled hair, with press on nails clutching a small Balenciaga bag to your chest. A dress which fitted you perfectly and looked to be cut from a designer’s hand. 

You definitely weren't the usual type of girl who swam with the sharks in these tanks. And so, the infamous older Haitani brother called over one of his men, nodding in your direction. “Keep an eye on the prissy one. She doesn’t look like she belongs here.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

His bodyguard bowed, exiting down to keep an eye on this suspicious young woman who had caught his underboss’ attention. Ran lit up a cigarette, wishing he had something stronger with him besides menthol sticks when he noticed you crossing paths with someone in the middle of the dance floor. His eyes were quick to catch it. 

A cordial nod. Something passed in a tiny ziplock bag into your hand. 

Your smile which fractured a bouncing neon light across your surprisingly white teeth.  

Ran immediately stood up, cigarette clenched between his teeth. Maybe this kind of attitude would cut it in other territories, but the King of Roppongi would never allow such an offence right under his nose. The people of this neonscape should only be taking meth from his supplies and his supplies only. 

This could result in a potential gang war once word leaks out. 

Ran took matters into his own hands, stubbing out his cigarette, beckoning another guard to him. 

“Bring her up,” he pointed towards you. “And tell her the boss of the club wants to meet her up here for drinks. But, don’t scare her. I don’t want too much trouble tonight.” 

The goon nodded, marching out of the room. Ran pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging it firmly. Already, he could hear your protests coming up the stairs, and mentally braced himself to thoroughly search you. This was going to be a long night. 

“—I’m innocent!” 

“He just wants to have drinks with you, miss.”

“But, I can order it downstairs—” 

“—just for a minute, miss—”

“I have a husband—” 

Feisty. Ran was intrigued by your fire. Without warning, he stood up and pried the VIP door open, stumbling you into a halt mid-tirade. After years of honing his charisma and working on his natural good looks, Ran sensed more than knew when a woman was succumbing to his charms. Their wide eyes would inevitably look him up and down, like you did, lingering on his broad chest, the slicked-back lilac hair. The piercing purple gaze and the sharp, handsome lines of his face.

He plastered on his most charming smile. “You must be the woman who has captured my attention. Please—join me for a drink.” His presence was dazzling, like a Venus Flytrap opening up boldly and brightly to seduce its bug-eyed prey before devouring them. 

You were taken by the hand, deep into the heart of Roppongi’s most notorious club. Like entering a lion’s den, you didn’t know where to look first—the seedy velvet couches, the lines of white still dotting the glass tables, or the sight of empty gun holsters upturned carelessly on the cushion seats. 

Ran sensed your increasing panic and slung a long arm around your shoulder, drawing you deeper into his side. “Don’t be afraid,” he grinned, all sharp knives for teeth and false promises. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you here. I promise.” You looked like you didn’t believe him, not for one second, and Ran rushed forward to introduce himself, playing the part of the flustered club owner who was enamoured by you. 

“My name is Haitani. Ran Haitani. I couldn’t help but notice someone like you entering my club and I just had to know you.” 

“Why?” you were sceptical. Disbelieving. 

Ran hummed. From the corner of his eye, his bodyguard was tapping away on his screen, pretending to look bored when everyone in the room knew he had the most important job of all. It wasn’t hard to coax you into the velvet seat—you looked like you would bolt at any second, but at the mention of gin on the house, you visibly relaxed. 

There was a look to you that was familiar, Ran decided. You had a face someone would’ve seen somewhere in magazines. Pretty, but not pretentious. Just conventionally attractive enough to hold his eye but not to indulge in it. Someone like a Chief of Justice’s wife, or a President’s mistress. Maybe he shouldn’t think so lowly of your position just because you were here—you could’ve been a CEO of your own company, except most girl bosses he knew would be asleep at this time of the night to prepare for another day in their obnoxious offices. 

You sipped on a glass, careful to keep a distance from him. Ran noticed your lips never fully touched the glass rim, like you had practised all of your life to not leave a mark anywhere you went. 

Most definitely someone related to a politician. His mind was racing, sifting through the sudden wickedness arising in his putrid thoughts.

A daddy’s girl turned rebellious. A trust fund granddaughter looking to blow off steam. 

Something about you was familiar. And, you had mentioned a husband. 

Ran pursed his lips, and he was about to straight up ask you who you were, when his bodyguard passed him the phone he had been casually typing on. Those sleepy lilac eyes widened infinitesimally, his breathing stuttering.

He had seen your name before—it rang in the recesses of his memory.

But, that would mean…

Tsunake. Tsunake Y/N. 

It seemed like fate decided to extend a kind hand the years he spent trying to avenge his one and only best friend. 

Ran’s grin became predatory—tinged with a hint of excitement. 

“So… what’s the mayor’s wife doing in this part of the town?” 

Having blown your cover off, Ran was left with your comically alarmed expression. You nervously set your glass down, tittering through tight, red lips. “What makes you think I have a reason to be here?” 

Without warning, he slung his arm around your waist. It happened too fast—fading into a blur. One second, you thought he was going to force himself on you, and before you could even scream, this mysterious man had managed to flip open your purse and pry out the ziplock pouch of drugs. 

“H-hey—!”

“Ecstasy,” Ran pried open the bag, taking one sniff of the contents. “Mixed with a little bit of molly. Are you looking to have a cardiac arrest tonight, Princess?” 

You bristled, baring your teeth. Despite being filled with two glasses of gin, you were surprisingly still sprightly on your feet. “Give that back,” you muttered hotly, glaring daggers into his skull. “It’s none of your fucking business what I take—you have no right to search me like that.” 

“Oh, but I do.” Standing to his full height, Ran resisted smirking when you flinched and took a step back, bowed by his sheer size that towered over you. “I’m the owner of this club, sweetheart, and thanks to your stupidity, I now have you recorded through CCTVs picking up a trade on the dancefloor. I’m sure your husband—the Mayor of Tokyo—would hate to see pictures of his sweet wife blowing up in the tabloids in the middle of a buyoff, would he?” 

The fire in your eyes dimmed, and if it was possible, even your diamond earrings dangling from your lobes lost their lustre. “You… how did you know?” 

Ran shrugged. “I know a lot of things.” 

A snarl decorated your blush red lips. “Are you blackmailing me?” 

This time, Ran couldn’t help but grin. “You catch on fast.” 

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, your withering gaze alternated between faux contempt and dread. Your mind worked quickly, Ran observed. Those pretty eyes darted back and forth, between the languid stances of his men trained to lunge at your throat in a moment’s notice, to the gangly, smug man who held your reputation in his depraved hands. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

You expected him to list off money and favours, not to snort and say, “What do you think I would want?” 

“If it’s money you’re looking for, you won’t find it with me. My husband is not the generous kind,” you argued back hotly. 

“Pass. Not what I had in mind.”

You wracked your brain. “I don’t have many connections outside of my home. I can’t give you political leverage and my husband doesn’t listen to me.” Your hands were beginning to sweat, hoping with all your might he bought your shoddy lie. Ran appeared like he didn’t.

“Come on. A husband who doesn't listen to his wife? Impossible.” 

Sauntering towards you, his grin was a cocky curve standing out from the garish neon lights. Those half-mast eyes held a surprising gleam of reprehensible intent when they bore straight into your wide ones. “You’re lying to me. I bet you had to sneak out of your own castle to get here, Princess.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You bit down on your tongue to avoid blurting out those incriminating words. “I told you. I don’t have the kind of power and influence you’re looking for.” 

“Well,” Ran tilted his head to the side. “Seems like we’re at an impasse here. But, no matter. I’ve learned a lot in this life, Princess. And one thing that I can’t deny? How someone’s hand can move their own fate if they tried hard enough… or, they’re given a big enough shitstorm to wade through.”

You almost asked him what he meant when he pressed a hand onto your bare waist. The cold from his silver rings seeped into your skin, and you would’ve jerked backwards into the wall if it wasn’t for his grip tightening around you. 

“Easy,” Ran murmured, pinning those heavy eyes onto you. He looked like he would’ve nodded off to sleep if you hadn’t felt the steel in his grip—how easily he could overpower you. “I’m not here to hurt you. I want you to trust me.” 

Trust him? You almost spat back how stupid that idea was when he was steering you back to the velvet couches. Passing you a drink, he pressed it firmly into your hand with more force than necessary, and you sensed that you had no choice in refusing his offer. 

Ran tipped his glass to clink yours, downing his gin and tonic in one go. You tentatively sipped on yours, wincing at the alcohol burn when it went down. The music changed, and without much reason why, the room felt more at ease. Those guards went back to their corners, playing poker, talking loudly, laughing rowdily. None of them were paying you two any attention, and even the lights felt warmer somehow. More welcoming. 

You felt pleasantly sleepy, and Ran took your glass before it could spill onto the carpeted ground. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mhm, tired,” you slurred, slumping forward to rest your head on his shoulder. He smelled nice—like warmed vanilla bourbon on a rainy day. “I dunno why. I think I need to… to close my eyes…” 

You had no idea how you ended up in his lap. Why his lips were on yours, tongue slowly tangling with yours in the deepest kiss of your life. You tasted the gin he downed, skin and something musky which reminded you of sweaty bodies writhing together. It made you wet; made you gasp into his mouth which heatedly spilled hoarse praises right down your throat. You were gripping his hair, his shoulders, his jacket. Trying to find an anchor to the sensations threatening to drag you under. 

Ran kissed down your neck, sucking and mouthing on the skin hard enough that you could feel throbbing marks left behind.

“Can I touch you?” he breathed into the shell of your ear. You had no idea what compelled you to nod, but the second you did, his hand was between your legs, prying the seat of your thong aside.

He cursed under his breath when he felt how slick you were; how your folds were all glistening and ready just for him. 

You started to rock your hips needily, little whimpers trickling past your clenched teeth. “Ran… Ran…” 

His name sounded like a chime—a mantra you repeated over and over again as your thighs shook and your head lolled back. His slender, nimble fingers were too good. They were made for edging a girl right to a cresting orgasm; those cold rings touching your heated flesh left goosebumps at their wake, the contrasting sensations enough to make you even dizzier.

“Ran—” you cried out, back arching and clutching his hair in your death grip. He kissed the rise of your chest, sticky and glittering with sweat.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, hooking his finger against a tender spot inside of you which made your hips twitch—a minute tick signalling your desperation. “Let go for me, Princess.” 

Every fibre of your being held no resistance; falling for his silky command. You remembered the searing heat, the tears beading on your lash line, how your hips were rocking to his mesmerising fingers which bullied more pleasure into your wrecked body. 

Ran kissed you deeply while you came all over his fingers, your sobs and gasps reverberating around the strangely still room. 

The last thing you heard was his voice in your ear, asking if he should call you a cab, and the next, your eyelids fluttered shut, the entire world going black. 

You felt more than heard someone coming into a room. 

Blinking your eyes awake, a weight settled at the foot of a soft bed, shirtless except for a pair of boxers clinging around his narrow hips. Silvery pale moonlight brushed strokes of pearlescent streaks on his inked torso, and slowly, the half-body of a dragon was coming into focus. Rushing to your senses, you gasped, sitting up, patting every inch of your body only to find you were still in your sparkly dress from last night.

“Morning, sunshine,” Ran mused, turning towards you with a cheeky grin on his handsome face. In your throes of deciphering the tattoos on his torso, you hadn’t noticed the ink at the base of his throat—a geometrical design which looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite remember where you had seen it before. 

“Where am I?” your hoarse voice sounded crass even to your own ears. You cleared your throat, and he passed you a glass of water by his bedside table. 

“My penthouse,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious answer. “I took you home after you passed out on top of me.”  

Blinking, you set the glass down. A crawling sensation was growing in the back of your throat, slithering down your belly and settling right in the base of your body frozen to this bed. You glanced at the doors, windows and crevices of this room, looking for a place to hide—to run. 

You had no idea what this man could want with you, but you sensed it was nothing good. 

As if he could read your uneasy thoughts, Ran chuckled. “I’m not here to hurt you. After all, I already got what I wanted from you.” 

Before you could prod deeper, Ran pulled up his phone, tapping on the screen. A grainy video of you straddling his lap while he kissed you with feverish lust came up, and you watched, struck with horror as your entire body fell apart for him, crying out his name with your toes curled in the periphery and back arched. All while you were already married to another man.

“No—” you swiped at the phone and he held it back, standing up tall and dangling it over your head. 

Tears streaked down your face, joined with snot and a cacophony of your bitter protests. “Please, don’t do this!” 

Your bleats barely phased him; after all, Ran Haitani was a man who had many begging at his feet to spare them or give them their sanity back. “No.”

The word devastated you, and you swore you felt your soul break into two. If word of this ever reached back to your husband…

District elections were just around the corner and your husband’s record had to be spotless. Any word of your actions tonight in the club, or even a whiff of your involvement with a man such as Ran, would ruin the airtight politically perfect reputation he had. 

I have to protect him. You tried to make a grab for the phone again, but Ran jerked it away, shark-like grin growing wider, amused by this little game you two were playing. 

“Ran, please—”

“I won’t tell him,” the bastard promised, a purple cowlick falling against his smooth forehead. Those neatly plucked brows furrowed together, and you could sense a ‘but’ somewhere behind his false reassurances. “But—I want you to do something for me.”

Here it was. In your mind, you pictured bribes. judging from his gang tattoo—shipments of drugs. A place to hide dead bodies. 

You never expected what he would’ve said next. 

“I want you to try and stop your husband from raiding our warehouses.” 

Stupefied, your shoulders slumped forward. Tears beaded in your lash line. “How do you expect me to do that? I told you, he doesn’t listen to me—”

“Mayor Tsunake is a reasonable man,” Ran eyed you down the length of his nose. “Don’t you think so, Mrs. Tsunake?” 

The sound of your married name coming from his rancid lips made you want to hurtle a fist right into his smug face. But, you sensed more than knew that Ran was a fucked up man in a position of high power—any sign of your rebellion will be met with consequences you couldn’t begin to fathom. 

You eyed the tattoo on his neck again. “I can’t make that promise. I’m sorry,” you added, hoping he would let you go and forget about this entire night. All you wanted to do was head back home, ransack your alcohol supply and drink the memories of this horrible meeting away. Maybe you were locked in a dream—tucked safely in your Queen-sized bed while your imagination presented you with your worst nightmare. 

But, this was more than just a figment of your nighttime terrors. Ran was real. This shitstorm you were in was real. 

And it was waiting for you to step into its eye. 

You swallowed. “What else do you want?” 

Ran’s smirk tightened around the edges. “Good girl. I knew you would see reason.” Putting his phone down on the bed, he patted the edge, asking you without words to sit next to him. The mattress sank under both of your weight, and you kept a distance from him, jaw tight and fists balled on your lap.

One heavily ringed hand reached towards you, and you tried not to flinch when he gently patted your cheek. 

“I want you to make yourself available to me. I’ve slept with plenty of women before, but never a mayor’s wife. It’s thrilling—this joy of trying not to get caught.” Those nimble fingers formed a loose cage around your throat, flexing them as if he were taken by a sudden, raunchy memory. “You were such a little slut in the club,” he crooned. “I want to push you harder—see what you’re capable of. All while you don’t let Mr. Mayor himself hear a peep from our little agreement, hmm?” 

Heat soused down your spine, dusting your cheeks. I’m dreaming. You were in a complete daze. I must be dreaming because this isn’t real. 

“Why are you doing this?” was all you could whisper, trying not to lapse into a tearful rage; your roaring emotions held behind a glass wall. You felt like the entire world could smell your shame—judge your stupidity. 

Ran moved his hand down the column of your throat, skimming just above the rise of your left breast. He palmed it without a single word, satisfied how you squirmed in distress but didn’t make a move to stop his groping. Fondling the plump flesh, he squeezed it, flickering those lackadaisical lilac eyes to your mortified expression.

“Why?” He asked nonchalantly, slowly playing with your stiffening nipple underneath the flimsy silk and lace. The sharp edge of his thumb nail dragged along the perky bud, and he flicked it once, as if reprimanding your instant arousal. You flinched, soft gasp echoing around the spacious room, and his grin widened.

“Well, why not?” 

Waking up alone in your large mansion, your entire body felt too heavy. 

After the events of last night, you had stumbled back home, tiptoeing past the maids’ rooms, careful to not wake anyone before you succumbed to your deluge of raging sobs.

You must’ve fallen asleep sometime in the middle of your temper tantrum. 

The space beside you was empty, and Makko must’ve still been out with his entire PR team, strategizing his winning message to blaze through campaign season. You barely noticed his absence last night—who would’ve thought a single excursion out to relieve your tension of being the perfect political wife resulted in your ensnaring tanglement with a dangerous, dark man.

Picking up your phone, you squinted at the sudden bright light on the screen, finding an unknown message. 

It was an attachment, and you dread pooled deep in your belly when you read the text.

Until next time — H.R 

Tapping open the picture, you nearly choked on your spit when you noticed your thong peeking through his clenched fist which was casually resting on the half of his inked chest. Your eyes burned as they scanned through the dips and divots of his muscles, and your throat ran dry, remembering how he had moved your body in ways you hadn’t expected a stranger could.

It was like he knew you—knew what you liked and what you wanted.

Without warning, his next text chimed in. 

Are you awake? 

He was waiting for an answer.

Heart in your throat, you texted back. 

Yes, I am. 

His reply came a second later. Good. Take off your clothes if you’re wearing any and lay back in bed. 

Glancing at your modest cotton nightgown, you felt a shiver run down your spine which had nothing to do with the wind-free AC humming above you. 

Why?

His answer was instantaneous.

Why not? Or did you forget our agreement? 

The video. He was dangling it over your head like your deepest scarlet letter—goading you to deny him so he could make your marriage and husband’s career burn. It was with this single note of love towards the man whose ring was on your finger that you followed his instructions. 

Once you were naked and lying back on your bed, you texted him a terse: 

I did what you asked. 

Send a picture. 

The humiliation could’ve skinned you alive, but you complied. Angling your phone high up so your face was cut off, you snapped a picture of your bare body and sent it to another man who wasn’t your husband as you were perched right on your marital bed, fighting back the urge to find that bastard and kick him right in the balls. 

Ran replied a second later.

Good girl. I’m going to call you now.

Without another second to spare, your phone vibrated.

You quickly grabbed your wireless buds, slotting them into your ears and pressed answer. 

“Those sheets look comfortable,” he hummed, as a way of greeting. Your sour silence made him laugh. “Oh, lighten up. At least look a little happy. I did give you a huge orgasm last night.” 

Ran was shirtless, the dips of his collarbones gleaming in the low light of what appeared to be his bedroom—the tattoo on his throat strikingly dark and haunting. His duvet was a downy white colour, the pillows under his head plush and inviting. 

You spared a glance at your locked door before flitting your gaze back to his half-mast purple eyes. “What do you want?” 

Ran hummed. “Is your husband there?” 

Your brow furrowed, and he had his answer. 

“Angle the camera to your pussy. Show me how you touch yourself.” Your minute hesitation earned you a hard glare. “Now, Y/N. Or, yesterday night’s video will be in the mayor’s inbox in less than 5 minutes.” 

The tattoo gleaming from his throat made you shiver, and you hastened to follow his orders. Lifting your phone and balancing it on your sternum, you aimed the camera right between your legs, thighs still chastely clasped together. 

“Good girl,” he purred. “Now, spread your folds. Touch yourself.”

You obeyed him, like a puppet to a demented master—you touched yourself for Haitani Ran to enjoy, your forced submission a feast which he devoured upon. Ran’s breathing grew heavier from the other end of the line, and you heard the hitch in his groan when you parted your slick folds, showing off the strands of arousal webbing in between your middle and index fingers.

“Taste yourself.” 

Your cheeks burned, and humiliation once again trampled all over your common sense to put a stop to this. In a sick, twisted way, the pain of not having control over your own body—your own reactions—was downright heady. 

A blissful buzz hummed in your mind, and you barely gave another lucid thought before your fingers were stuck down your throat, lapping at your own sweet and salty nectar. Ran couldn’t see you deepthroating your own digits, but he heard the soft squelch of your tongue and mouth. 

“Fuck—touch yourself again.” 

His command was met with little resistance. You rubbed your clit, mouth falling open, your soft pants filling the space of this luscious bedroom. 

“Are you close?” Ran’s husky voice filled your ears, and you suddenly came to the realisation of how pleasant his voice sounded. Not too brash or low. Just the right amount of husky and baritone.

“Mhm,” you murmured. So far, you hadn’t moaned or mewled—too stubborn to let yourself admit to your body’s baser needs and how Ran was adeptly pleasuring you, even when he was far away. You kept your teeth clamped onto your lower lip, only allowing yourself a few trembling breaths.

“I can see your hips twitching.” His voice was going to drive you insane. “Look at how hard those nipples are. They’re so aroused.” You glanced down at the buds straining in the cool air, and something about his casual observations on your body made your walls clench—sucking in your fingers deeper.

Without warning, a soft moan slipped past your clenched teeth.

Ran was quick to react—to swallow down on your shame. “What was that? Is the little slut getting turned on from this? That’s pathetic. I’m not even touching you.” He continued with his parade of casual cruelty, making you feel both small and desirable. “Come on. Moan for me again. You can show me you’re a whore again, yeah?”

What is wrong with me? It was like you had zero control over yourself; your body was responding to such blatant degradation—nipples circling and hips twitching. You could taste your orgasm in the back of your throat. 

“Mhm!” you cried out, glad he wasn’t here to see your mouth falling further open, or the saliva pooling down the corner of your lips. “S-Shit…” 

Your hips had a life of their own; they swirled, twitched and pushed against your furious fingers, pumping to try and take you down your high. You’ve never squirmed this badly for a man—never shamelessly moaned for him to release you from ecstasy’s hostage. 

“Please,” you gasped out. Ran chuckled softly. “I-I need—”

“No,” his voice, silky smooth, was deceptively drenched with pity. “You can’t come, baby. You know I won’t give you that so easily. Stop touching.” 

Your fingers couldn't seem to cooperate. Your whine was saturated with absolute need. “Wh-why? Please…” 

“No. Stop right now or I’ll release the video.” 

That threat was enough to throw cold water on your arousal, and you immediately ripped your hand away from your thighs, crying out softly in protest and embarrassment. Ran was quiet as your pants turned into ragged breaths, your thighs twitching like someone was running aftershocks through your veins.

“Turn the camera back to your face.”

You knew better than to disobey him. The second the front camera switched on, you almost flinched in shock. Your eyes were red-rimmed, like you had been crying—they were wide and glossy, not a hint of defensiveness in them. It was like Ran had stripped you free of your prickliness, leaving you in a ball of your own vulnerability. The shame and hormones coasting in your system left your cheeks flushed and mouth wet with spit.

You looked like a woman who had been purely ravaged, all desperate and teary.

Ran, in contrast, barely had a hair out of place. He still wore that same easy smirk, though the apples of his cheeks were a bit pinker than you recalled. 

“Go and take a picture of yourself and send it to me. I’ll be waiting, Y/N.” He didn’t give you a chance to protest, clicking the call off and leaving you stewing in your thoughts.

Your mind was on overdrive, the tips of your fingers tingling. Ran must’ve given you a choice to send in the picture when he left you alone to your devices; as a way for him to gauge how serious you took his threat. 

The burning shame pooled in the back of your eyelids, and you let your head fall back into the pillows, exhaling a hitched breath that sounded almost like a sob.

Why is he doing this? What does he want? 

Ran had taken your body through the wringer; testing both your patience and determination to protect your husband’s reputation at the expense of your sanity. 

But, was it worth it? 

The ticking clock on your wall counted down your minutes of procrastination. Ran had never mentioned when he expected you to send in the picture—did he want it now? A spike of anxiety clobbered your chest. Oh god, what if he had been expecting it a few minutes ago and was already about to send the video of you grinding on his fingers to your poor, loyal husband? 

Quickly, you sprang to your feet, ignoring the throb of neglect between your thighs to pose in front of the mirror. The morning sun splayed itself across your bare stomach, speckling across your chest and arms. In this angle, you were an erotic painting come to life; the spark of desire you felt had dimmed after all these years of being the steadfast, politically stable wife was flickering back up into a small flame, deep within your chest.

What is happening to me? Your thoughts were in a spiral as you angled your body, showing off your shapeliness and the feminine submissiveness dripping down your thighs. Am I going insane? 

You snapped one photo. Then two, for good measure. You kept your face hidden by your phone, smartly avoiding any chance of recognition. 

Tapping on the screen, you sent the photos to his number, praying he wouldn’t ask you for more—to push yourself further for his sick, pervasive delight. But, your hopes were dashed when he replied a second later, with a string of terse instructions. 

I want your face in them, Y/N. Kneel on the bed and spread your thighs. Take a higher angled photo so your face is in it. Do not disappoint me again. 

Unbidden, you felt like shards of glass were stabbing your soul.

Do not disappoint me again.

If your shame could be seen, it would be curling its shoulders into itself—whether out of self-preservation or despondency, you dared not uncover. 

But, you followed his instructions clearly. The photo came out better than you hoped for. Your flushed folds were the centre of attention, your fleshy clit fully out in the open as a reminder of your denied orgasm pulsing through you. 

Your expression, however, was the one which took you completely by surprise. There was open want in the curve of your brow, how your lips parted to reveal a glossy ring of spit. Shame and desperation shone from your eyes, giving you a coquette look which you hadn’t expected to see from a woman of your age. 

You wanted to touch yourself—hoped he would be kind enough to give you your release when he saw that you were trying. You were trying to be good for Ran; you were trying to follow his orders the best you could.

His response came a second later.

Good girl. I want you to repeat this again tomorrow. And again the day after. Deny yourself for me, and take a picture for me every time you do. Don’t cum until I give you permission to. 

Dread coursed through your veins, heady and pure. Did he expect you to never experience pleasure? What about if your husband fucked you and you accidentally came? The horror solidified in your stomach like a cold, festering fist. It was impossible to do this to you—to control you so harshly when your life was never his to own in the first place. 

Anger came next—coarse and bitter. Who did Haitani Ran think he was to blackmail and push you around? You were the mayor’s wife. You could get a cop on his ass faster than anyone in the district could. If you wanted to destroy his life, all you could do was lift a finger and it would be done.

But, as if he could read your mind, his response came in, timely and concise. 

I would advise you to not let anyone know you’re fucking a Bonten executive. It won’t look good for your husband’s records. 

Bonten. The fear crested, taking you down under. You dropped your phone onto the bed, slapping a palm to your mouth. 

Bonten. No wonder the tattoo under his neck was familiar—you had seen it before in your husband’s civil report, under the tab Illegal establishments: Yakuzas. 

Bonten. 

Japan’s most feared organised crime syndicate. 

A ruthless band of unknown men who controlled the vast underworld with a tight, iron fist. This is bad, you started to heave, the panic clamping down on your throat. This is really, really bad. 

Before you could spiral into your mind and start panicking, your screen flashed with another message, this one solidifying how utterly fucked your situation was; how you had unwittingly ruined your own life in one single, careless night. 

Don’t forget that your orgasms belong to me now, slut. This is our little secret now. 

Shit. 

Shit. 

Just what exactly had you gotten yourself into? 

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy the concept, sentence structures and scenes without prior permission from the creator.

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

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This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

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