Only I love Milfs: Transmigrated to a World Where Milfs are Hated

Oh shit!

The moment Mira's lips grazed his tip—just barely, just enough—Eren jerked like lightning had snapped through his spine. A bolt of panic struck him harder than the pleasure. Every muscle in his core, every fiber of his lower body, clenched tight.

No. No, not now.

He begged whatever divine being might be watching.

Oh god, I swear I won't ever try to touch her in her sleep again. Just this once—let me keep my dignity.

He wasn't sure who he was bargaining with. He didn't believe in gods. Never had.But desperate men prayed anyway.

Also I won't be atheist anymore, he added hastily, as if sweetening the deal.He had no valuables to offer—no coin, no offerings—so he gambled the only thing he had: his future. His word.

And then...Silence.

Stillness.

A pulse held on the edge of release, then reeled back.

Hah! I think it worked, Eren thought, his lashes still pressed tight over his eyes.Though I didn't mean what I said. God should know better. But thank gods—it worked.

He could feel it. The release hadn't spilled.Not yet.Still inside. Still under control.

A shuddering breath escaped him—part relief, part disbelief.

He loosened his eyelids, a cautious peek.

And then—

"Huh? Eren… what's this?"

A voice. Soft. Smooth. Dipped in honey and curiosity.

It reached his ears like silk slipping over skin, and every nerve he'd tried to suppress lit up again.

Eren's eyes fluttered open.

And what he saw…Stunned him.

His aunt's face was streaked with a long line of warm, white sticky liquid—stretching from her cheek up to the side of her forehead in a single, glistening trail.

Huh? I thought I held it in. It didn't even feel like I released anything… What the hell?

Mira lifted one curious finger, tracing the line, trying to scoop the substance onto her fingertip.

"I'm really sorry, Aunt Miraaa…" Eren grabbed the ladle, still half-filled with water, and poured it over himself—so much for the bath with Aunt Mira—then bolted out of the bathing room.

Mira watched him run, then looked back at her fingers. She brought them to her nose—took in the scent.

Then—

He's acting strange today… wonder what's gotten into him, she said softly, licking the residue off her hand.

"Mmm…"Though it's kind of sticky—and clings to the inside of my mouth, almost hugging my gums if I don't swallow right away—it's got a surprisingly nice scent, she thought.

----------

Above, the sun climbed fully into the sky, towering over all things, draping the world in heat and a thick, humid light.

Eren moved through the tavern, dusting chairs, wiping tables, and sweeping the floor with restless energy.

"Hah… it's already noon. I haven't even been able to face Aunt Mira since then. What must she be thinking of me?"He groaned internally."Did I just blow my only chance at screwing a MILF before it even started?"

With a sigh, he raised a sleeve to his forehead, dabbing away sweat.

"Dammit… in all that panic, I even threw on the wrong clothes. Way too thick for this heat. Can't go back to change now, either. Ugh…"

Eren groaned as he made his way back to the cashier table.

Behind him, the tavern opened to a gate and a wide, netted window where orders could be passed through to the kitchen. The house's door was just beyond, tucked beside the kitchen entrance, all connected through a narrow hall.

Then—from the open window, in a voice both confident and unmistakably feminine—

"Eren, sorry I'm late. There was a bit of work in the house. Any customers yet?"

His heart stopped.

He didn't answer.

Words jammed in his throat, thick with leftover embarrassment.

'Is Aunt Mira just pretending nothing happened… or?' Before he could finish the thought, the tavern's back gate creaked open.

Aunt Mira leaned in from the side, her large, heavy shacks gently shifting with the motion as her gaze settled on him.

"Are you alright, Eren?"

Caught off guard, Eren snapped to attention, still nowhere near a conclusion.

"Y-Yeah, Yeah I'm fine! I'll be in the yard chopping wood. If you need anything, j.. just call out. There won't be any customers until evening anyway, so I'll be back soon."

And with that, he rushed toward the yard connected to the tavern, boots tapping lightly against the wooden floor as he fled.

'God… what an embarrassment. How the hell am I ever supposed to face her again?'

------

At the tavern:

Mira still leaned against the doorframe, her bust—full and heavy—gently heaving downward."I wonder what's gotten into that kid… He's been acting strange since this morning. And that... thing," she murmured, her face laced with worry.

And if one looked closely—really closely—there was a faint tinge of red on her cheeks for reasons even she couldn't quite name.

"I just hope he's okay," she said softly, before straightening her back and heading into the kitchen to begin preparing for the evening.

------

At the yard:

Eren stood surrounded by long, unchopped logs, both hands clutched against his head.

What am I doing? Why did I run away? And why is she acting like nothing even happened... like it was all just some dream?

He paced a few steps, his mind spiraling.

Could it be… she doesn't even know what it means? That she doesn't even realize?

His thoughts spun with no answers.

Man, I don't even know anymore. Whatever—let's just chop some damn wood and get this over with.

He grabbed the axe and positioned a log on top of the thick, dried stump he always used as a chopping block.

Kchh! — strike one.

Kchh! — strike two.

Three… four… five.

Still, the log held firm.

Even though he had the strength and muscle to split the logs with a single clean arc, he didn't.

He couldn't.

His mind was a storm—The thoughts from that morning swirled endlessly--what had happened, what it meant, and how he was ever supposed to face his aunt again.

The weight of it dulled his focus, drained the command he usually held over his own body.

"This isn't working," Eren muttered, lowering the axe and resting both hands on the head, leaning against it.

I can't keep going like this.

He stared at the ground, sweat sliding down his temple, his breath low and uneven.

"I need to think about something else. Anything. Something that makes all this feel small… forgettable. Something that'll swallow up every last one of these thoughts."His fingers tightened around the handle."Something strong enough to take over everything in my head."

"Think Eren, think."

He leaned on the axe like an anchor, eyes shut, forcing his mind to focus.

"The last day at the office… the sudden transmigration—soul only—then Aunt Mira… this new world."

Each moment needed unraveling, yet one memory pressed hardest:

[SYSTEM ACTIVATED:]

[Synchronization Complete. Host Identity: Eren Voss (Adopted), 18 years old.

Current Location: Hinterland Village.

Guardian: Mira Voss, adoptive mother's younger sister.]

[M*$U*#@S^$ COMPLETED: $^%$#@]

A message he'd once dismissed as a dream—too detailed to be mere fantasy.

"Nothing's been normal since I got here. First the body-less transmigration, then this physique sculpted like a Greek god. And this world… it feels as if something vast lies beneath the surface, like a sleeping dragon ready to awake."

A hunch, an unfamiliar sense he'd known only in this life.

"And there's the System, whatever that really is."

He probed the thought, reaching for it again.

But, Nothing answered. No message, no interface—just a cool breeze brushing his face, cold yet oddly comforting.

"System… huh? If it's real, why won't it wake up? Does it need some special trigger or what? Ugh, I have no idea."

Eren pondered while angling the axe and lining up logs again.

Thump!Thump!

He resumed chopping, each strike loud and crisp—echoing all the way to the tavern.

Inside, Mira paused to listen."Well… at least he's swinging with the same rhythm as usual. I was worried when everything went quiet after he headed out, but if he's chopping like that, he must be fine." A warm smile softened her face.

Out in the yard, Eren worked with precise, steady strokes.

If thinking it to life won't work, maybe…

He reached a conclusion: if silent thoughts did nothing, perhaps a voice might.

He drew a deep breath.

Let's give this one last try.

"System!" he called—loud and clear. The shout carried through the tavern and out into the sleepy street. No answer followed. No curious passers-by stopped; only a few people were out, each busy with their own tasks.

Back in the tavern, Mira frowned, concern returning.

Huh? What's the kid up to now? He's been… different since morning. I just hope he's alright.

Her brows knitted again as she glanced toward the yard, silently wishing her hardworking, one-and-only nephew well.

--------

While at the yard:

Eren tilted his face upward, eyes searching the sky for answers that weren't there. His hopeful smile slowly faded, replaced by quiet resignation.

He lowered his gaze and let out a long breath, reaching again for the axe.

I knew this wouldn't work. It had to be a dream.

He shook his head, gripping the handle tightly.

"Alright… back to chopping wood."

But just as he lifted the axe—

Thud.

It slipped from his hands, hitting the ground heavily.

A sudden, sharp pain exploded behind his eyes, piercing and relentless. He clutched his head between his hands as warmth trickled from his nose, blood dripping onto the dirt.

"No, no… not now," he thought, breathing heavily as panic surged.

"I don't want to yell. I don't want Aunt Mira to worry. I don't want to embarass myself again!"

But the pain grew sharper, unbearable, until holding it in was impossible.

With a deep, agonized breath, Eren cried out—his scream cutting through the empty yard, echoing harshly down the deserted street.