Lipstick~ Kim Hongjoong ♡
Just trying to match my hair with your favourite lipstick shade ~ Kim Hongjoong
♡ EROTICA ATEEZ ♡
Warnings : sub!reader, dom!hongjoong, unprotected penetration, angry sex, teasing, dirty talk (a lil bit), denied climax, punishment, thigh riding, Hongjoong ordering around, possessive HJ, MDNI, 18+
WC : 3.7K
Haven't done the fact check, so if there are any mistakes, please understand ⊂(・ω・)
There is a little story at start, the 18+ part starts after a while.
(A/n : OK, so it's quiet interesting cuz a week before Coachella I bought a lipstick in cherry red type shade, and when I saw Hongjoong at Coachella with same shade of Hair, it did things to me and that's how I wrote this. Enjoyyyyy~)
It was weekend, that means it was time to celebrate.
This weekend, a success party was organised for all the 8 lovely and hardworking boys by the company for their successful Coachella show and tour this summer. Ofcourse, a deserved one.
But, you were upset about one thing. You boyfriend. Hingjoong. Its been two weeks since they came back from US. But, it was just 4 days ago that he met you. Though, it's good that he is prioritising his time with his family, but you were upset upon the fact that he couldn't even meet you for sometime in these many days. He even met his friends from another company before meeting you. And that kinda made you sad for some reason.
Since you boy met, you've been giving cold shoulder to him, no matter how much he tried or apologised. You were not completely mad about it, its just you were playing with him for sometime, until the bomb inside him ticks. He might be a cutie patootie, until you test his limits, that's exactly what you were waiting for. You were just not going to let it loose until he made you.
As evening comes closer, you realise its time to get ready for the party tonight. The fact that Hongjoong was supposed to be at your apartment right now, getting ready along with you, but he was gone from morning without telling you a word. Sometimes you just can't figure out what's going inside his brain. But, you can't wait anymore, you have to start getting ready.
The theme was black and gold. Basic but classy combination. And, office parties are always classy. It was pure celebration night along with some business stuff. There was going to be an announcement at the party, but its fun part because only director knows about it, not even the boys.
As you think about all the exciting stuff that was going to happen in tonight's party, you get ready in your black backless bodycon dress, which was, ofcourse, a bit revealing. Revealing enough to trigger something in someone. Adding black heels and a cute little Balmain purse, finishing your look with gold rings, bracelet and a short gold chain.
Checking yourself finally in mirror for last time, you almost forgot to apply the lipstick. Your favourite thing in makeup. These days you are hooked onto a particular lipstick shade. A dark cherry red or blood red or dark red, however you call it. You just love how that shade looks on your lips. Applying the lipstick and checking yourself in the mirror for the very last time, you hear the sound of horn. Just in time.
You leave your apartment complex and while heading towards the street, there he is leaning against the car. No matter how much upset you are about him, in the end of the day, 'damn, he is really my man. Mine.' this is your last thought.
All black outfit, black shiny blazer, heeled boots, loose black shirt, golden chain and analogue watch. But wait, what you observed next was was you were not expecting. Your steps become slower. A brand new hair look. Undercut, cherry red dyed hair with wet look. It's as if you are day dreaming. He definately knows about your new obsession.
You walk up to him, cheeks already stained with heat, you didn't know what to say.
"Looking preety, princess" He compliments you. But, you remind yourself 'act upset.'
"You too." You say it coldly.
"Such a dry compliment? You don't know how much efforts I have put in today's look."
You clearly know what he is talking about, it's the hair, but you are currently playing hard.
"I mean, the look is preety handsome."
"The look?"
"Yeah. What else?"
"Very well."
To be honest, the more you are in front of him, the desperate your hands are growing to just caress his hair until you ruin the hairstyle. And, you just cannot control. An odd strand of his hair, resting on his eyebrow, looks out of place, which you try to fix. But, as your hand is approaching his forehead, he fixes it himself. Opening the door, he motions for you to get in. Irritated, you squeeze your eyes at him in annoyance and he responds you with a naughty smirk. "So, two-player game has finally started." Is what you think.
The ride till destination is just exchange of some words. You were continously resisting the urge to look at him. Just can't get enough of him in that hair colour. And his preety face. Oh god. But, one thing he doesn't knows, is your completely backless dress. He is yet to see it, and you know exactly when to use it as a trigger.
Reaching at the destination, you both are greeted with welcoming smiles from the boys. The 7 balls of sunshine welcoming you and your other grumpy ball of sunshine.
Their smiles are enough to make someone's day better. And, it's just the start of today's evening.
After the short greetings, you are seated at the couch, enjoying the drinks and snacks. Some of the members girlfriends are here too, with whom you are familiar with. There are also other artist from the company, for celebrating ATEEZ success. Such a wholesome company. And, suddenly there are taps on mic, stealing everyone's attention.
"Mic check, okayyy"
It's the director.
"Well, its about the special announcement. Total, of three announcements. Initially, I would like to tell everyone, that our boys, ATEEZ, after Hongjoong joining Balmain as brand ambassador, other boys will also be joining big brands from Korea and also international brands,as bran ambassadors, very soon."
Everyone cheer and congratulate the boys. Sometimes it just makes you tear up, how much these boys are growing.
( fr tho, I cry sometimes. )
"Secondly, ATEEZ will be having a Comeback in June."
Again there are cheers. Not gonna lie, Comeback period is so good, because as Hongjoong's girlfriend, you already know most of things from newest Comeback, and it's just so fun to see Atinys reactions to all the stuff getting released.
"Third, announcement. Out team manager is going to get married this month." This information does get the loudest cheers. The night is full of laughs and smiles. But, it's time for a game now.
Everyone is called up on the dance floor. The upbeat songs fills the environment. It feels like the clubs with all the crazy lightings and upbeat songs. But, as night gets older, upbeat songs turn to skies romantic songs. Ofcourse, for some of the couple present here. It starts with Manager and his soon to be wife joining the dance floor with cute couple dance. Later on, other members, San, Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho also joins the stage with their girlfriends. You were stealing glances with Hongjoong, but he didn't ask you for the dance. It kinda made you upset. But, your bestie did notice it.
"Hey, it's not good to see a preety lady, sitting upset on the couch, while romantic songs are playing here. Come on, dance with me, will you?" It's Wooyoung, holding his hand out for you. Always been a life saver. You could always tryst him in situations like this.
"Gladly" you say with a smile and join him.
All this conversation just received piercing stares from Hongjoong.
On the dance floor, you can't thank Wooyoung enough for offering you for a dance.
"Gosh Wooyoung, you always get the situation right."
"Hmm, I've been observing it since you two came. Did you two fought or something?" He asks.
"Kind of. But just play along with me."
"Sure, your majesty."
As, you start the slow dance, you slowly bring all your hairs to the front from one side, revealing the backless dress.
"Holy, a backless dress. I see what you are doing." Wooyoung says to which you give a low chuckle.
"But, I don't think so I am allowed to touch your back. I'll be burned to ashes by someone."
"It's okay, you can hold my waist instead." You say.
"Oh Wooyoung, you are so loyal and you don't even have a girlfriend yet. How's that possible?"
"Didn't.....find anyone yet. My type is bit weird."
"Your future girlfriend will be so lucky."
"But looks like I won't be lucky anymore. Hongjoong's eyes are literally on fire. He hasn't stopped looking here for a second."
You chuckle to how stresses he sounds.
"You laughing?? Currently I am being used as a pawn and god knows what is going to happen to me, the next time Hongjoong calls me in his room."
"Haha, okay. This much is fine for today. Let's go."
"I hope this gets your work done." He gives you a thumbs up before leaving the stage.
You join Hongjoong again on the couch.
"Are you done dancing?" He is not looking at you. The mad energy radiates from him which gives you goosebumps but you try not to stutter.
"Yeah."
"Looks like you enjoyed it too much."
"Hmm, Wooyoung is actually so good at dancing."
He is still not looking at you.
"I still feel like this night shouldn't end. Its just so good to see eve-"
"We were leaving." He cuts you off.
"What?"
"Get up."
He gets up and heads to give last greetings to boys.
"Why are leaving early? There still alot of time." Seonghwa asks.
"Didn't have some proper rest for some days. Also, I need to drop her first. Right, Princess?"
He says to which you just nod.
Ride back was silent, not a single word exchanged. But as you reached, he grabbed your wrist. Dragging you all way up to your apartment complex, he yanked you into your bedroom, closing the door behind him.
"What is it Hongj-"
"Remove everything you have on your body, except that dress."
You are shocked by the sudden command, you just stand there, unmoving.
"Wasn't I enough loud for you to hear that? Get to work." There is something behind those eyes. Something that tells you not to mess up right now.
As you are removing all your accessories and heels, he is also loosening his own tie, folding the sleeves of his shirt to half, unbuttoning half of the buttons, messing his hairs a bit. Shit! The raw look that you enjoy to savour. Everytime he come backs from work or a meeting or award show, and loosening himself up after coming home, you would enjoy him in this look for hours. Not to mention the several times you have secretly pleasured yourself unknowingly imagining him in this look.
After he is done with it, he sits on the corner of the bed, right in front of mirror. He motions you to come closer and stand in front of him. His hands starts from your shoulder, caressing your body from your curves throughout your hips.
"Hmm, what a right choice for a party dress, showing all that cleavage, that back, that curve of the hips. It's not like, I want to limit your freedom, but I definately won't like what's mine to be eye candy for others." His voice goes low.
"Wear what you like baby, but don't use that to test my patience. Understand."
"This dress does not have a kind of good impression on me. Beacuse, it was not me who danced with you." His hands then heads towards your dress zipper but instead of opening the zipper, he straight out rips the dress from your back.
"And I make sure, you never wear this dress again."
The dress is soon pulled down from your body leaving you in your lingerie. No matter how many times you've been naked in front of him, no matter how many times you fucked, the way he looks at your body always brings goosebumps.
He manspreads and motions you to sit on his one lap. And you do as he asked. But, he has other plans today.
"Nah! Not like this baby. Face your back to me."
When you face your back to him, you could see both your figures in the mirror. You sitting on his lap, legs apart, him scanning the scene in front of him. But, what he says next, fills your eyes with horror.
"Since you were being a little bad today, your punishment is to only ride my thigh for today. And if you cum without my orders, forget getting my dick."
The worst thing you could hear today. After trying so hard to just get fucked, but all you get is a punishment, testing how much you can resist your high.
"Come on, baby. Move." His grit his teeth ordering you to begin the show.
Hesitantly, you start moving your hips. Slowly increasing your pace to gain more and more friction. You hands resting on his other thigh and bed, head thrown back, eyes rolled to your brain. Hongjoong resting both of his hands on bed, his head thrown back too. He sure is making you punished, but he himself is not sure how long he can hold back.
You just try to make your movements faster and faster, digging yourself more into his thigh, grinding as if your life depends on it. But, you are frustrated. Frustrated for not getting what you wanted, you click your tounge and whine in frustration while still maintaining the pace.
But your whines are loud enough to catch his attention. He lifts his head up, a victory smirk on his face, droopy eyes. "Did I just hear it right? Little cries of frustration." His mouth is right on your ear. "Frustrated because you didn't get what you wanted? How petty." He chuckles, the vibration of the sound making your ear feel numb.
He places his one hand on your neck, pushing your neck to the back, and other hand on your waist, helping you increase your pace, almost digging his nails in your waist. When you look in the mirror, he already has his eyes, trained on your face. And, you see the lust in his eyes, pure lust.
He for sure is your lovely boyfriend, but when he is filled with lust, it's like completely different person, as if he'd switch roles with some incubus. Not to mention, him having that perfect blood coloured hairs now, make your organs do backflips in your body.
Speaking of that, you try to raise your hands to try touch his hairs, but he is more in his sensed than you do right now. He quickly stops you by holding your hands, and then holding them at your back. You hear a scoff.
"If I let happen what you want the most, then what's the point of my punishment, yeah?"
You click your tounge again, clearly not hiding your frustration anymore. His one hand goes again to your waist, helping you work more faster. But, you can't hold it back longer. Your patience have ended.
“Ho- Hongjong pleasee-” you whisper.
“Hmm, did I hear something?”
“I am…..am so close. Please….”
“Aww, but you know the rules, right”
He is just testing every bit of your patience.
“Please, please, I beg…beg you.”
A single tear roll down your closed eye, out of desperation and your restrained release. But, your breathes grow heavy and you are so…so close to disobey him again. And he notices, stopping your movements.
“On your back, now.”
Without wasting a second, you are laying on bed. He gets in between legs separating them for him to stand on his knees, undressing himself. Finally pulling down his boxer to take out his hard dick. He pumps it himself for some seconds. He comes down to kiss you, or rather you'd say eat your lips out. The way he is kissing you with his tongue exploring every corner in your mouth, making you out of breathe.
Your hand pinned above your head, with one hand still stopping you from achieving your goa of touching his hairsl. Separating his lips from yours, he removes the last remaining pieces of clothes from your body.
“Remember baby, the rules are still same. No cumming without my permission.”
And with that he enters you, bottoming out, making you gasp out loud.
“Gosh, you are so wet, I don't even need to try.”
Then he starts moving, short shallow thrusts at start, pulling out just halfway through and then going all in again. Making your body rock every so slowly. But, then when he is done with the intro, he increases his speed suddenly, pulling almost out but then suddenly snapping in fast making you scream.
“Ahhh, fuck, fuck…ah agh”
“Oh, just this got you cursing like this, the main show is yet to begin.”
With this, starts thrusting fast, so fast that could rip your pussy. The sound of skin slapping, creaking of bed, both your pants and moans, fills the room.
He finally let your hands free to gain more stability, and first thing you do is find his hair. Intervening your hand with his hair, you pull them making Hongjoong groan. He is not that vocal in bed, but when he is, his moans are most best thing your ears have ever heard. And, you always try to find a way to make him moan.
He backs up for a while, halting his movements for seconds, and throwing your legs over his shoulders while still being inside you, wiping his sweat before starting again. This time he is not just thrusting but pushing himself inside of you, basically pushing you into the mattress. Your brain is so fucked out right now, you have no capacity to understand anything. You are gripping the sheets beneath you for your dear life. His balls deep inside of you, pushing in and out, furiously. There's a drool flowing from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolled back.
“Aww, look at that fucked out face. Do I do you that good baby, hmm?"
You hear everything but you are so messed to answer anything to him. All that comes out of your mouth are moans and screams of his name.
He comes down to kiss you again, kissing all that drool away. He bites your lower lip while kissing you, drawing out blood, making you wince, but without a thought he sucks your blood too. That particular action made the knot in your stomach tighten.
“Ahh!! Fuck. Shit baby, your blood tastes sweet- sweet too, ah.” He says within heavy pants. His speed of thrust has become slower but, instead he thrusts in with more force, literally making the bed rock back and forth. Pushing himself in you and at the same time pulling you towards him, with force. It just hits different when he is jealous and wrecks the shit out of you, the best type of sex because he'd give his all to make sure the name coming out of your mouth is only his.
He kissed your legs, from ankle to your knee while still thrusting, leaving bite marks on your calves. And with other hand, he adds two fingers to your already stuffed hole, thrusting with his fingers simultaneously with his dick. That made you scream out loud. Somehow you managed to open your eyes a bit, but as soon as he saw you a mischievous grin appeared on his face, looking directly in your eyes. You knew, there was something going in his head.
He removes his fingers from your hole and starts rubbing on your clit with his palm. No, he knows how to test you. You throw your head back into the mattress because of the sudden added pleasure. He starts rubbing forcefully on your clit, he could almost feel his dick slamming in and out through your skin. That was just bringing you closer and closer to your climax.
“Ho- Hong, plesee….”
“Umm, please what babe?”
“Hong-....you- you know….please”
“Oh, does my baby wants to cum???” He coos, mockingly.
“Yess….” You nod desperately.
“But, baby. You know the rules right?? What did I say??”
You know he wouldn't let you win, but you can't hold it back. But, coming without him saying so, would just bring you another trouble. You bang your fists on the mattress out of frustration.
“Oh oh, look who is angry.” He coos again. But he instantly comes down, his mouth hovering above your ear, “If you just don't want to go through this, then don't go around making ME angry.” He grits. “Understood. Now wait.”
He starts thrusting again, fast, his both hands on your neck. Your denied climax, him thrusting faster and his hands gripping your neck, all this was too much for you to handle, the overwhelming feeling was making your back arch. You again pull onto his hairs, getting him to moan loudly. Him moaning your name and curses loudly into your ear was your last straw.
“Ahhh,fuck y/n. You feel so fucking good. Ahh.”
“Hong- Hong…please. I can't hold…..”
After some hard thrusts he finally says.
“Baby, cum for me. Together. Come on.”
And with that, you release at the same time as him. Your body going limp suddenly. While he still stays inside you pushing both of your cum further inside you.
He removes himself and lays on you, hugging you from above, peppering your breasts with butterfly kisses.
“Baby, I know I was busy all these days and did not meet you. But don't ever do what you did today. If you want attention, just say it to me. Just know, at the end of the day, I will always come to you. I just can't see you in anyone else's hands.”
You nod with a hum. Your hands find its way to his hairs.
“You did this on purpose, didn't you?” You ask.
He scoffs with a guilty ‘yes’
“I saw, lately you've been liking this colour alot. So, I just tried matching my hair with your lipstick shade.”
“You don't know what that did to me.” He chuckles after hearing you.
He suddenly lifts you up in bridal style, heading towards the bathroom.
“Let's bath together. I will wash your hair today, ok.”
No, cuz, i am SOOO crazy over this Hongjoong, like bsnsjkakakakakananwjjsosoaka
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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 ;)
-
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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