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marvelmusing · 5 months

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Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Pairing: Modern!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you find yourself with nowhere to live, your friend Alina offers you the perfect solution - her Uncle Aleksander’s empty townhouse. What you don’t know is that Aleksander’s security cameras watch your every move, and Aleksander himself is almost instantly captivated by you.

Warnings [18+]: smut, dom!Aleksander, reader is staying in Aleksander’s house (supposedly) without his knowledge, subtle mafia vibes, power play, voyeuristic vibes from Aleksander, unspecified age gap, reference to oral (fem receiving), slight cnc vibes (no verbal consent but a safeword is established), smidge of size kink, very subtle hints that Aleksander wants children, he’s quite intense but she’s into it.

A/N: happy christmas everyone!

My Masterlist

Aleksander receives an alert the moment his front door is opened. One glance at the screen of his phone reveals that Alina’s key card had deactivated the alarm system.

It isn’t unusual for her to invite herself into his townhouse in one of the affluent boroughs of the city. He rarely uses the space himself, preferring his smaller apartment in Central Os Alta due to the vicinity to his workplace. What is unusual, however, is that she has company today.

Aleksander has an extensive number of security cameras and microphones placed throughout his home. It helps to ease his paranoia and sate the need to control his surroundings. He doesn’t tend to check on Alina when she visits, leaving her to her own devices, but your presence has his interest piqued.

Alina doesn’t bother to take her shoes off, per usual. But you do. After dragging your feet over the doormat - twice, one foot after the other - you tug off your shoes, placing them neatly beside his shoe rack before hurrying to catch up to Alina as she heads towards the kitchen.

He’s proud of the townhouse, a space he had curated as a safe haven for himself and a currently non-existent significant other. Seeing you stare, lips parted as your eyes drink in the furniture and decor in what seems like awe, has a warmth gathering in his chest. He will admit, your admiration of his house is rather adorable.

Curious, he unmutes the sound on the security feed, just in time to hear your voice as you ask tentatively,

“You’re sure your uncle won’t mind?”

Alina opens up a cupboard, retrieving a bag of snacks which she examines with a small frown, before she rips the packaging open and begins to munch on the treats inside. She shrugs through a mouthful.

“He barely ever stays here.”

“But you did ask him… didn’t you?”

Aleksander vaguely remembers Alina mentioning a friend of hers that needed a place to stay. What he doesn’t remember is giving her permission to accommodate said friend in his house. But he watches Alina nod, scrunching up the bag as she finishes her snacks.

“He wants someone here to receive his parcels,” she says, tossing the crumpled wrapper towards the bin. She misses.

He doesn’t order anything to his house. All his parcels are delivered either to his work or his apartment. The townhouse is his hidden treasure, though strangely he doesn’t loathe the idea of letting you stay there. Perhaps he should place a few harmless orders, to aid Alina’s lie. Something inconspicuous, that you might enjoy, like a monthly flower subscription. He likes the thought of you assembling a cheerful bouquet in his living room.

“And you’re sure he doesn’t want any rent,” you say, picking up Alina’s rubbish and placing it in the bin. You’re already a perfect houseguest, though he hopes you might be able to feel comfortable enough to relax in his house.

Aleksander almost feels offended by your suggestion and is relieved when Alina shakes her head.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell him I’m the one staying here. Besides, you’re like my sister. What’s mine is yours.”

“Even your Uncle Sasha?” you ask with a shy smile and this tiny glimpse at your humour has Aleksander wanting to devour you.

Alina grins.

“Especially him.” She pushes away from where she’s been leaning on the kitchen counter. “I’ll give you the password to his grocery account. Order whatever you like.”

That nervous expression returns to your features.

“Are you sure?”

“He gives me an allowance that I never use. You can have it.” She opens one of the kitchen drawers, rummaging through the contents despite Aleksander’s meticulous organisation. It doesn’t take her long to find what she’s looking for. “Here’s a key card to disable the security alarms and the wifi password.”

Aleksander watches you take the objects slowly, holding them in the palm of your hand before closing your fist around them protectively. Alina gestures upwards towards the rest of the house.

“Pick whatever bedroom you like best.”

Unknown by you, the moment you choose Aleksander’s bed to sleep in you become his.

»»---------------------►

As the owner of the internet router at his house, Aleksander can see what sites you visit while using his internet - a power that he abuses fully. He enjoys the insight into your thoughts and interests. The questions you have about the world and the things that make you happy.

During his lunch one day, Aleksander is scrolling through your recent search history when he spots something interesting. His name. Initially just a google search. Then you had examined his Instagram and Facebook, before moving onto his company website.

He’s tempted to pull up the security feed and rewind it back to the moment you had first typed his name, just to see your reaction to what you’re seeing. Especially when he sees how long you had spent reading the tabloids and swiping through images of him. It seems he has captured your attention.

»»---------------------►

It takes a small nudge from Aleksander for you to stop buying only the necessities during your grocery order. Just a few small taps of his thumbs and he adds enough random baking supplies for you to perceive it as an accident when it arrives.

One day, Alina visits him at work, a small box of cupcakes tucked under her arm. Instantly, he recognises them as one of your creations. He had watched you bake them yesterday head bobbing to your music as you had decorated them with an adorable frown of concentration and a smudge of buttercream on your face.

He waits until she leaves before cracking open the box, allowing the sweet sugary scent to invade his senses. The moan that escapes him during his first bite is obscene. He wonders whether your cheeks would flush with heat at the sound. His mind wanders, thinking of kissing the cream off your cheeks.

Aleksander finds himself imagining what it would be like to come home to you, the house warm and inviting as you await his arrival with a sweet treat and an eager smile. He would sink to his knees on the kitchen tiles, slide your skirt and apron up to your waist so that he can kiss your pretty cunt until his name is the only word you can manage.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander hates seeing you cry. But that job of yours was doing you no good. Waking up early to catch the bus and arriving home so tired that you don’t have enough energy to cook yourself a hot meal. Now, after Aleksander has pulled a few strings, you can sleep for as long as you like and spend time creating food that brings you joy.

He has already logged onto his grocery account and amended your weekly order to include a few recipes you wanted to try and some additional treats in an attempt at lifting your spirits. All he wants is for you to be happy.

He’s sorely tempted to go to you now. To wrap his arms around you, hold you against his chest and kiss the crown of your head while murmuring reassurances that this was for the best. He doesn’t like seeing you so despondent. He wants his happy girl back, who tends to the flowers and reads curled up in his armchair beside the fire.

He could just go to you. It’s his house you’re staying in after all. But he doesn’t want to rob you of your safe place. If he turned up now, he knows you would feel pressured to leave, even when you have nowhere else to go. His sweet girl, so terrified of taking up too much space. One day, very soon, he will be able to appreciate you how he longs to.

»»---------------------►

He thinks you might be trying to kill him.

Aleksander’s home gym is a room occupied by a treadmill and a few stray pieces of equipment that he hardly ever uses, there to fill the space he hopes will one day be converted into a nursery.

Currently, you’re stretching yourself out over a yoga mat he didn’t even know he owned, twisting your body into a rather enticing position. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you, shifting in his seat to alleviate some of the ache in his throbbing cock.

Whilst he’s glad you’ve found another hobby to fill your time - and the thought of your improved flexibility pleases him - he almost wishes he hadn’t checked in on you. Now, he is going to have to sit through a meeting and resist the urge to continue watching you.

»»---------------------►

Once a week, Alina stays over with you, spending the evening catching up and talking about all manner of things together. Aleksander likes to listen in while he’s working, imagining that he’s actually in the office across the hall from the living room.

Alina’s suggestion of a blind date for you makes him stiffen, lifting his eyes away from his papers and onto the screen. He’s somewhat glad that you seem apprehensive.

“I thought you didn’t like Mal?” you ask Alina, fidgeting with the edge of the velvet cushion in your lap.

She shrugs.

“Just because he wasn’t right for me doesn’t mean he won’t be right for you.”

Aleksander can say with absolute certainty that Mal is nowhere near the right man for you. He can remember when Alina was infatuated with the boy. If he strings you along like he did with Alina, Aleksander won’t be able to stop himself from interfering.

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t be mad, but I might have already made a reservation for you.”

“Lina!”

You swat her with your cushion - almost playfully - but Aleksander can see your anxiety in the set of your shoulders. To hell with not interfering. He mutes the sound on the screen, picking up his phone and dialling a familiar number.

“Zoya, I need a favour.”

»»---------------------►

He needs to play this carefully. With Zoya’s intervention at the bar where Mal was meeting his friends for a drink beforehand, he will never make it to your date. Aleksander needs to leave you waiting long enough to be relieved by his arrival, but not so long that the rejection damages your self esteem. From a corner of the restaurant, he watches your face carefully.

Each time a waiter appears, he sees you grow a little more agitated, fidgeting with your fingers as you insist that your date will arrive soon. It’s only once he sees you inhale shakily that he decides to pick up his coat and stroll over to your table.

“Is this seat taken?”

Embarrassment touches at your features as you glance up at him, then the tables surrounding you as you seem to assume he’s asking to take the chair to his own table. He watches your lips press together before you shake your head and gesture defeatedly at the chair.

“It’s all yours.”

He smiles widely, draping his coat over the back of the chair before he sits down.

“Thank you, milaya.”

The look of surprise on your face is delightful, even more so when recognition sparkles in your eyes.

“Mr Morozova.”

He’s exceptionally proud of the feigned confusion he spreads over his features.

“Do we know each other?”

“You’re Alina’s uncle.”

“Yes,” he says, the hint of a question at the edge of his tone. Ducking your head bashfully, you tell him your name.

He repeats your name slowly, as if it is the first time he’s ever spoken it, trying to ignore how wide your eyes are at the sound of your name on his lips.

“Alina mentioned you were looking for a place to stay in the city. Did you manage to find somewhere?”

You seem startled at the thought of him remembering you.

“Oh, yes. I did, thank you.”

He smiles. Alina had lied to him, telling him that she was the one staying at his house. Whilst he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, the urge to make you squirm a little pokes at him.

“Do you like where you’re living now?”

He watches you shift nervously in your seat, but your response is earnest.

“Yes, I do,” you admit quietly. “It’s lovely.” He hums indulgently, hoping you might continue speaking, and you nod. “One of the nicest places I’ve ever lived.”

He wants to keep you forever.

Instead, he offers to buy you dinner, which you agree to after a little convincing from Aleksander. He asks for your order, calling the waiter over to place it for you both.

Now that you’re front of him, after watching you through a screen for so long, Aleksander can’t look away from you. In such proximity, he can observe every minute detail. The way you fidget with the charms on your bracelet. The way you attempt to be subtle when you glance at him, only to find his eyes already on you.

He drinks in the sight of you, warmth in his chest as you tuck into your meal. He will admit, he pays little attention to his own plate, choosing to watch as you eat eagerly with soft sounds of pleasure in response to the taste. All the while, he coaxes you into conversation and by the time you’ve finished you seem much more relaxed in his presence.

Aleksander leans back in his chair, swirling the wine around in his glass with nimble fingers. With a polite gesture to the waiter, he orders another bottle of wine. When the waiter mentions dessert, Aleksander raises a questioning brow at you. He can see the nervousness creep into your eyes at the thought of asking for more.

After you refuse his offer, he orders a plateful of dessert that he intends on sharing with you. When it arrives, he takes a few mouthfuls for himself before he offers a spoonful to you.

“Come on, milaya. I bought it for us to share.”

When you relent, leaning forwards to take the spoon from him, he retracts his head, pulling it out of your reach.

“Ah, ah. No hands. Let me.”

After ducking your head bashfully, you look down to avoid his gaze and Aleksander can see how flustered his words have made you. Still, you nod obediently. He moves the spoon back towards you, feeding you the dessert when you open your mouth for him.

He stares as your eyes flutter closed and you hum in delight at the rich taste with a pretty smile on your face.

Saints, you’re so perfect.

Aleksander pays the bill. He keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk to the entrance of the restaurant. He frowns at the sight of goosebumps prickling over your skin.

“Where’s your coat, milaya?”

“Alina gave me a lift here and I left it in her car.”

He tuts quietly in disapproval.

“Well, that won’t do, will it?” Aleksander places his coat over your shoulders, thick wool draped over your frame to shield you from the cold. He smiles at the sight of you, helping you tuck each of your arms into the sleeves. “There we go.”

You give him a bright smile and begin to play shyly with the buttons at the front of his coat.

“Thank you.”

“Let me give you a lift home.”

Immediately your smile falters and you refuse his offer.

“Oh no, I’m fine walking, thank you.”

“You’re walking?” The moment you nod he begins to shake his head. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m not living in the city centre. It’ll be too out of your way.”

“Nonsense.”

“Mr Morozova-”

“Call me Aleksander, please.”

“Aleksander,” you state slowly. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I’m not going back to my apartment tonight.”

There’s a waver in your voice as you say,

“You’re not?”

He shakes his head.

“I have a house not far from here.”

He watches the internal struggle play over your face. Realisation. Anxiety. Words scrambling from your mind to your tongue as you attempt to create a confession. Sweet girl. Always so honest.

“Aleksander, I…” He watches you wring your hands, the sleeves of his coat covering all but your fingertips. “Alina’s been letting me stay at your townhouse. I’m so sorry for not telling you.”

He doesn’t respond.

Instead, he smiles at the valet, standing behind you as he waits for the man to retrieve his car keys. Leaning down, he presses a pacifying kiss to your temple, smoothing his hands over each of your shoulders, stroking your biceps. He can see the confusion in your eyes at his reaction.

“We’ll discuss this at home, darling.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, though he doubts you would ever openly disagree with him. He feels you shiver at the command in his voice and a thrill runs through him at the thought of you enjoying the role he has picked out for you.

The short walk to the car is silent, a few stray snowflakes beginning to fall. Aleksander keeps his arm around you, ensuring you don’t slip on any ice. He holds the passenger door open for you and keeps his hand on your thigh for the entire journey, ignoring your squirming.

“Aleksander,” you whisper. “I really am sorry.”

“Not now, milaya. Let me concentrate on the roads.”

He feels your skin flush with embarrassment at his condescending tone. The snow has quickly covered the world in white, thick flurries falling faster with every passing moment.

When you finally return home, he slips his coat from your shoulders, hanging it up in the hallway as he nods at your shoes, a silent order for you to remove them. With the height of your heels gone, you seem so much smaller than him as he looks down at you.

“I do not tolerate lying, milaya.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr Morozova. I can move my things out now-”

He presses his thumb against your mouth, index finger curling under your chin.

“I do not want to hear another word from those pretty lips of yours. Safeword is shadow. Understood?”

Excitement sparks in your eyes as you realise what is happening, and when you nod obediently Aleksander feels his cock throb. He knows you will enjoy this. He knows your preferences - what you search for when you’re eager to get yourself off.

“Good girl. Now go pour me a drink.”

Aleksander settles down on his favourite armchair in the living room, watching as you unlock the alcohol cabinet and pour him a small sample of whiskey, the liquid falling smoothly into the crystal glass. He stretches his legs out; his knees always ache during the cold weather. Soaking in a hot bath with you is certainly an enticing thought - perhaps for tomorrow evening.

There’s a slight tremble to your fingers as you hand him the glass.

“Thank you, milaya. Be a dear and take my shoes off - I can’t reach them too comfortably at my age.”

With fumbling fingers, you manage to untie his laces and loosen the shoes away from his feet, slipping them off easily enough. The sight of you between his thighs, kneeling on the ground is utter perfection. He smiles down at you, stroking his knuckles over your cheek.

“There’s a good girl. Place them in the hallway for me?”

In the time it takes you to move into the hallway and place the shoes down on the rack beside his front door, Aleksander has freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and underwear, hissing slightly as he grips himself.

When you return, the sight of him has your footsteps faltering in the doorway. He leans his head back, watching you through hooded eyes and a tense jaw. He sees your eyes widen, like a little deer in headlights. He sees your gaze flicker down to his exposed cock and your thighs tremble as they press against each other.

He tilts his head at you.

“Come sit on my cock, milaya.”

A slight shake of your head.

“It won’t fit.”

“Yes it will. Come here.” Still you don’t move. “I won’t ask again.”

His tone has you stumbling forwards.

As you struggle to straddle his lap, he pushes the hem of your dress, velvet smoothing easily upwards to reveal bare skin. The underwear you’re wearing is nice, though he knows you own much prettier sets. That knowledge reassures him that you hadn’t intended on sleeping with your date tonight.

Retrieving his drink from the table beside him, watching you with a self satisfied smirk as he lifts his glass to your lips.

“Some liquid courage for you.”

He breathes out a soft laugh when he sees your nose wrinkle at the taste; evidently you must have swallowed more than you were anticipating.

“Now let’s have a look at what we have here,” he muses, pushing the gusset of your panties aside to reveal your glistening cunt, flushed and glossy with arousal. A perfect little mess. “Have you been in this state since we arrived? Or during the car ride home?”

He can feel your body burning as you admit,

“Since dinner, sir.”

“Oh sweet girl, have I left you wanting?”

“Please,” you whisper weakly. He brushes the head of his cock over your quivering entrance, grinning at the sound of your whimpers.

“Let’s start with the tip, shall we?”

He begins to ease you onto his cock, stretching you out slowly and a small cry escapes from your lips at the sensation. Sweat glistens over your chest as you heave in a few hurried breaths.

Aleksander praises you with every inch, telling you how perfect you are as you writhe and buck against his hold. Once you’re fully seated on his cock, he runs his hands over your thighs soothingly, encouraging you to relax as your cunt continues to twitch around him.

He tugs the front of your dress down, revealing your breasts for him to fondle freely. His hands wander over your body, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Almost absentmindedly, he begins to play with your nipples, pressing kisses from your forehead down to your jawline.

“Such a pretty sight. How are you feeling, my love?”

“So full,” you whine, on the verge of tears. “So good. Aleksander.”

“That’s it, darling.” He holds onto your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

A weak shake of your head that doesn’t convince him. He suspects you can’t even convince yourself that you don’t want this. Nevertheless, he can’t help but argue with you.

“Who’s been housing you, and feeding you, these last few months?”

He watches your expression crumble in defeat, giving in to your desire.

“You have.”

“That’s right, milaya.” He grasps onto your hips, encouraging you to begin bouncing on his cock.“You have no idea..” The feeling of your cunt squeezing him like a vice makes him groan, hands gripping your trembling thighs. “…how difficult it’s been to resist buying clothes for you as well.” His words are breathless, panted out against your lips as he presses your foreheads together. “Dresses and skirts and pretty lingerie sets. But we have a wedding to save for, don’t we?”

His question seems to catch you off guard, as an obscene moan is ripped from the back of your throat. He rolls his hips upwards, notching the head of his cock against that sweet spot inside you that makes you clench violently. Something akin to a sob heaves at your shoulders as you tremble.

“I’m going to spoil you, darling. I want my ring on your finger. I want you in white lace and diamonds.”

Aleksander moans at the feeling of your nails digging into his arms through the fabric of his shirt. He keeps one hand on your hip, occasionally stroking the tense muscles of your abdomen, the other hand cupping your face so that he can kiss you.

He sees your toes curl, calves twitching as your cunt pulses an erratic beat that makes pleasure rocket down his spine. Aleksander moans your name softly, over and over until you’re shaking with overstimulation as you near your climax. When you begin to plead, he hushes you soothingly.

He knows you haven’t touched yourself in quite some time. He knows that the orgasm you’re seconds away from will unravel you completely. He can’t wait to see it.

“Let go, milaya. I’m right here,” he says warmly as he reaches down to rub firm circles over your swollen clit. “Cum around my cock like the good girl you are. Let me have you.”

Aleksander would consider it something of a religious experience, watching you lose yourself to pleasure. To see something so intimate, so sacred, in such proximity, when he has only ever seen you through a screen for months. The orgasm that hits you is lengthy, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as your cunt pulses around him. Every movement, every sound you make, is so breathtakingly beautiful that he stares openly at you with his lips parted in awe. His beautiful girl. His.

That final thought is what pushes him into completion, spilling inside you with a deep moan. He looks down at where the two of you are joined, admiring the glistening mess there. He kisses your forehead as you slump down against his chest. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you stare down at the buttons on his shirt, fidgeting with them absentmindedly.

“I can leave, if you’d like,” you suggest in a quiet murmur. He places his hands on your lower back, keeping you pressed to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You would freeze out there.”

Aleksander lifts you upwards, squeezing your hips gently as he does so, and his cock slips out of you. He leans forwards, kissing you again as he ticks himself back into his trousers. He sucks on your lower lip, dragging it lightly between his teeth as he buttons up his trousers with one hand.

“Stay,” he says.

The smile you give him is shy as you nod, whispering,

“Okay.”

He hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up into his arms. Instantly, you wrap your arms around his neck, coiling yourself around him as he carries you up the stairs.

Some of his cum slips out of you, as he lowers you down onto his sheets. He presses his fingers against your cunt, pushing his spend back inside you where it belongs. A quiet groan catches in his throat at the sensation of your warm cunt clinging to his digits, desperate to keep him inside. He curls his finger, pressing his thumb against your clit.

Aleksander grins when you cant your hips forwards mindlessly.

“What a mess we’ve made. Let me clean you up, milaya.”

Then he ducks his head between your thighs and enters heaven.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander nudges the front door closed with his hip, his hands occupied by shopping bags. He kicks his feet together to dislodge some of the snow stuck to the sole of his shoes, wondering if you’re still asleep.

He finds his answer in the kitchen; you’re dressed in one of his t-shirts. At the sound of him approaching you turn, wide eyed as he stands in the doorway, snowflakes in his hair. He notices your tears immediately, staining your cheeks as you sniffle.

“Milaya?”

“I thought you left me.” The words wobble on their way out. “I woke up and you were gone and I thought you’d left me.”

He lowers the bags, stepping towards you to take you into his arms. After the events of last night, it seems you’re in a somewhat fragile state. He folds his arms around you, giving your body a gentle squeeze as you press yourself tightly against his chest.

“The snow is getting heavy. I thought I would stock up on some essentials to last us until the weather improves,” he explains calmly. He hears how your breathing shakes with emotion. His clothes are still cold from his trip outside and you are delightfully warm. “As if I could ever leave you, my sweet girl.”

He kisses your forehead and your grip on him tightens.

“I’m here,” he murmurs gently, swaying the two of you from side to side as he strokes his hands down your body.

He ducks his head down, hooking a finger beneath your chin to tilt your head backwards so he can kiss you properly. His lips move slowly against yours, palms cupping your cheeks tenderly.

He ensures that you remain attached to him as he puts the perishables away, your arms looped around his neck and your body nestled into his side. Then he abandons the rest of the shopping, opting to bend you over the kitchen countertop, shoving his trousers down so that he can drive his cock into you.

He heaves a sigh of relief at the sound of your breathy gasp, kissing over your neck as you scramble for purchase against the marble.

“That’s it,” he breathes out with a smile, nuzzling his nose into the hollow of your throat. “Isn’t that better?”

Aleksander grips at your waist, dragging you towards him, delighting in your moans as he rolls his hips forwards. He curls a hand around your throat, squeezing lightly to bring your attention to his face. His nose grazes against yours as he insists,

“I meant every word I said last night.”

He leans in, kissing you throughly until he has to stop and breathe. Lowering his hand, his fingers circle your clit, causing you to jerk forwards with a soft moan as he sucks on your lower lip.

“I’m not letting you go, milaya.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

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Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone au #the darkling smut

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savkirschtein · 2 months

Text

ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ

modern college au

Jean Kirstein x f!reader

warnings: literally just Jean being infatuated with you…that’s it. College party. Mentions of alcohol, making out, drunkenness, slight stalking.

You were someone who kept to yourself often, not in the sense that you were particularly shy, but it was more so you liked to keep your circle of friends small. It kept your friendships easy to manage, and easy to keep up with. But for your childhood best friend Sasha, that was not the case, what so ever.

Queenie had friends, acquaintances, and plugs, EVERYWHERE.

You and Sasha only got to see each other every once in a while when she was able to come home, due to the fact that she moved away and was enrolled at SSU (Shiganshina University). Meanwhile you, because of some money issues, along with a sprinkle of poorly made decisions in Highschool went straight into Community College after graduating.

The distance was never a problem though, you guys would call each other all the time. And she would keep you up to date on all the crazy things she would be doing, along with all the friends she had made.

Always talking about the same three dudes Connie, Marco, and Jean. Whom she quickly befriended in one of her communications classes.

When you had told her you were going to be able to transfer early, and be enrolled into SSU, she absolutely flipped. So thrilled that her best friend would be able to join and experience all the craziness with her. Talking up and down about how you're going to fit in great with her newfound friends.

You enjoyed hearing all the insane things that she did with them. And more than anything, loved how clearly happy they seemed to make her. As well as how well they treated Sasha (having been skeptical of three guys and their intentions with your best friend). Those feelings quickly being put to rest after Sasha's dozens of stories of them and their many escapades in which they've had to take care of Sasha after one too many drinks.

Learning all of their names and all of their quirks came easy with how much she was around them, and how much she talked of them with you.

Watching from a distance you were able to see some of those moments she would gush about, play out due to Sasha posting on her social medias. Whether it be pictures on Instagram, or videos she would share on her private story on Snapchat.

From those small snip bits that she would share though, someone always seemed to catch your eye. The tall, lean, hot headed one, with the ash brown mullet, always yelling at Sasha and Connie in her snaps.

Jean. Your best friend said his name was.

Sasha talked about the three guys all of the time, and from what she would tell you about Jean, he seemed like a cool guy.

An art major, on the Uni Lacrosse team, who was hot-headed, hilarious, and spontaneous. Stoic exterior but has a heart of gold on the inside…well at least from what you heard from Sasha. Though you didn't know him personally, you had a slight interest to him already.

But what you didn’t know was that slight interest went both ways.

Sasha talked about you ALL. THE. TIME. Not that the boys minded, it was cool to them that she had a loyal best friend, who has stuck around through all of her phases, through all of the years, like you. And as her best friends it clearly meant a lot to Sasha for them to know about you.

And when she did talk of you, she spoke of you, holding you in such high regards. Talking about how hilarious you were, or about how you were one of the most down to earth and genuine people she knew. Hearing how great of a person you were through Sasha, along with the memories she shared, made Jean’s interest in you pique.

Jean felt like he knew you personally with how much he had heard about you. When he and Sasha became friends, he had only ever seen a few old picture of you two, which was from when you guys graduated highschool and some from Sasha’s 18th birthday on her instagram. But other than that not much else, and even if he did want to just check your profile, for science of course, you were private.

And he felt it would be odd and cause a stir of him to ask Sasha to look at her profile, especially since Connie and Marco didn't have such an interest in you to go out of their ways to do the same. Jean felt it would arise questions, which he would much rather dodge rather than succumbing to his own curiosity.

Until Sasha had come back after break from home, and showed him, Connie, and Marco a video of you cussing out, and roasting the shit out of a man. Who was unsolicitedly hitting on another one of your good friends, and making her uncomfortable. Taken when you guys were out, celebrating your birthday at a bar in your guys' hometown.

And for some reason that video had him hooked. From your witty and cunning remarks to the pervert hitting on your friend. To how beautiful you looked in the short, black, satin dress that adorned your body perfectly. Along with how attractive it was that you were so protective of your friends.

And from the pictures Sasha posted from that night of you guys afterwards??? Good lord, Jean went on a little bit of an adventure looking through your instagram account and your pictures after seeing you changed your account to a public one afterwards.

To have a more clear face to put to the person he had heard of so often made him all the more curious to meet you in person. Especially after Sash had finally told him and the other guys that you would be transferring soon.

When you had managed to move into your own small studio apartment just a walk away from the university, Sasha was there already to help you unpack and decorate.

"Give me one reason right now, as to why I SHOULDN’T gauge your eyes out." Sasha holds up an old picture in a plain white frame, from you both on your eighth grade promotion, holding up your diplomas, arms around each other's shoulders. Sasha unfortunately in the picture caught mid sneeze, with you smiling big and bright under her arm.

"It's the only picture I have from that day." You laugh, rolling your eyes at her. Wiping excess dust on the back of your jeans, from the boxes you carried, watching her fake gagging at the precious momento.

"So its your first night as an SSU student..." Sasha tiptoes timidly in her voice, eager to talk about anything else. Then hanging the framed picture on the naked wall. But from the tone in her voice you could tell she was going to try and convince you to do something you probably didn't want to.

"Sash-"

"NOW BEFORE YOU SHUT ME DOWN, THIS COMES WITH A SASHA MADE BREAKFAST AND DINNER INCLUDED." She is quick to cut you off before you can shut her down. You only nod at her with your arms crossed, waiting for her to continue. Slightly influenced at the offer already.

"Well...plead your case then."

"There is a party tonight that I was invited to, and..."

"And you want me to go?" You raise your eyebrow.

"IT WILL BE A DOPE PARTY I-"

"Let’s go then." You say nonchalantly, making Sasha go wide eyed and start screaming in excitement as she shook your shoulders.

From there Sasha had gone to her own apartment to get ready after helping you pick out an outfit, leaving you on your own to go through your own getting ready routine. Picking out jewelry and putting on makeup.

As you were finishing up you get a last minute text from her.

Sash👩‍❤️‍👩: IM SO SORRY BB, I HAVE TO HEAD TO THE PARTY NOW I HAVE TO CHECK ON CONNIE, MARCO SAID HE PREGAMED A LIL TOO HARD

Sash👩‍❤️‍👩: will you be okay showing up on your own? i have absolutely no problem coming back to pick you up!

After reassuring her multiple times over text, and even more over Facetime that you would be fine, you then leave your apartment on your own.

Following the gps’ directions, you eventually pull up to the packed house with blaring music coming from the inside, people scattered on the outside lawn and packed on the inside.

As you enter you smile at what was laid out before you. The craziness of college life in university was everything Sasha described it to be.

Drunken students letting loose and dancing everywhere. Cheering to more drinks as they hold up their red solo cups. People making out left and right, living every second up before the sun rises that would return them back to their stressful lives as broke college students who had unknown futures.

This aspect of college is what you weren't able to experience fresh out of highschool due to going to a CC. Seeing Sasha get to experience it all and have fun doing it made you so happy for her. But you couldn’t help but feel as if you were missing out on a crucial part of what life is supposed to be as a young adult. And to just stand in the middle of it made it all so real and raw, this was definitely an experience that has been missing all along.

You were so caught up in everything happening around you, that you couldn't feel someone’s eyes burning into your presence from afar.

As soon as you entered the front door, you caught Jean's eye immediately.

The chaos of the party and the people around him subsided. The alcohol clouding his judgement having him buzzed had disappeared, and the sight of you sobered him up immediately. You were really here in the flesh. And looked as beautiful as ever, starry eyed wonder and excitement filling your aura and the space you took up as you were people watching. It only made him hope to be able to catch your attention.

When you had began to weave your way through people, Jean's feet that had him stuck just watching you, immediately uprooted from his place to follow you.

As you were making your way through the house, which was seemingly so much bigger than it looked on the outside, trying to the best of your ability to look for Sasha, you see that you had only reached another dead end.

When you turn around to retrace your steps, your face is immediately met with a warm and hard surface. Your senses begin to be flooded with scents of vanilla, spicy sandalwood, and a note of beer. With hot hands meeting you at your elbows, to steady you from tripping.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry." You say quickly, without taking into account the stranger who you had just ran into. Just as your about to continue your search for Sasha, you feel that the stranger doesn't let you go right away.

Craning your head upwards, you’re met with the eyes of you had just ran into. Taking in light brown orbs with gold inflects of a tall stranger that you immediately recognize to unmistakably be, Jean.

"No that was my bad, are you okay?" He begins searching your eyes genuinely. When his hands drop from your elbows, you relish in whatever warmth was left.

"Oh no I'm alright, are you good?" You ask in return, looking right into his bright eyes, taking note of his beautifully long dark brown lashes. Not at all noticing the tint of pink painting his nose, or how red his ears were turning.

For a moment he doesn't even answer, he just shamelessly looks at you. The buzz giving him more confidence than he would like to admit. Taking in your features, noting in his head how the videos Sasha had shown of you doesn't do nearly as much justice to how breathtaking you are in person. Every picture he had seen of you didn’t capture the amount of beauty you held right in front of him, in this moment.

His eyes travel down your body, looking at how your outfit and your style complimented your figure perfectly. Or how your hair falls and frames your face perfectly, tempting him for a second to reach out and tuck the stray piece behind your ear.

And for a split second you do the same as well, taking note of his perfectly messy mullet, to the silver chain that adorned his neck, and the variety of silver rings, and earrings on his hands and ears. Bringing his outfit of a tight white shirt, and clean cut, black collared Carthartt jacket together. Although the jacket is slightly bigger, you can tell right away how well built he was. From his broad shoulders, or his chest puffing out from his white shirt.

Damn those videos and pictures of him really don't do him justice to him in person.

As you both stand in the middle of the uncrowded hallway, you completely forget where you are and what you were here for. With the lights going into a blur, the loud music fading out, and the only thing you can focus on was him. Almost as if your attention to him was keeping a grip on you to the floor beneath you instead of gravity. And for a split second looking into his fiery eyes, you swear he felt the same?

"I-I'm-" You stutter, trying to rid yourself of the warmth, and the butterflies flooding your stomach. But before you could even collect your words—

"You're Y/N." He finishes your shy introduction for you, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth in a smirk. Noticing your cheeks begin to blush hues of red. In return making him nervous, he then reaches his hand clumsily out to you to shake.

“I’m—” Taking his much larger hand into yours, with his slender fingers wrapping around your hand. Feeling a variety of rings graze the inside of your palm.

“Jean…” You finish his introduction, as he did you. Which now it was his turn to be shy..so you knew about him too? Just as he was about to speak again, you’re both knocked out of your daze. Literally.

“AGHHH YOU’RE HEREEE!!” Sasha tugs you into a tight embrace, as if she didn’t just see you over two hours ago. The force of her hug making you and Jean let go of each other’s hands. With two tall figures at her side watching her excitement with fond smiles on their faces. One of them then stepping forward after Sash had finally let you go.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Marco.” The tall freckled cutie in the cream t-shirt and brown flannel speaks up. Then stepping forward bashfully, reaching out to shake your hand gently.

As you finish shaking his hand, you avert your attention to the slightly shorter male. Orange fisherman beaning on his head, with a slightly outgrown fade peaking from underneath, wearing an army green crew neck, and silver chain and studs. Whom you immediately recognize to be Sasha’s accomplice.

“You didn’t tell me she was THIS fine in person Sash.” Connie shamelessly checks you out, which earns him a flick to his forehead from Sasha. And a smack upside the back of his head from Jean. Making Marco laugh behind you. While you giggle as well watching the group dynamic.

“WELL seems like you and Jean met already.” Your best friend grins, glad to see that both and Jean seemed to have gotten off on the right foot already. Making you and the semi-stranger look back at each other. Zoning in on him again, as he does you. Exchanging small smiles and nods.

“Well I hope he didn’t annoy you, or leave a bad impression.” Sasha cuts the tension once more unknowingly. Making Jean feel slightly more embarrassed with her choice of words.

“Yeah he can be a bit of an ass sometimes Y/N, so you just gotta be prepared for that.” Connie adds on, just to get a rise out of Jean. Then receiving a glare from him, and a snort out of Marco.

“I swear you two—” Jean despite his flustered state, was still ready to chew out his two knuckle head friends by instinct, before getting cut off.

“I mean he did kind of save me from tripping and eating shit at my first college party so, I’d say he’s alright.” You speak out with a small nod, making Jean’s eyes soften and his voice go quiet, as his full attention reverts to you. His once furrowed brows now relaxed with an airy chuckle coming out. He scratches the back of his neck before hitting you back with a response.

“Well you are pretty “alright” yourself.” Jean retorts, quoting you with his finger quotation marks. Careless and relaxed expression on his face as he only focuses on you. Not breaking eye contact even for a second or letting his smile fall from his face.

His three best friends are quick to take note at how Jean’s demeanor changed at your voice and within your little exchange.

Sasha though being a woman for one, and both of your best friends for two, was able to read you both immediately. Your small shy nods, the way your voice hitched up a small pitch signaling that you were nervous. Jean, trying his best to not look like he had a stick up his ass, the way he scratched his neck.

Of course it could just be coincidence, but Sasha and her bestie intuition never fails.

“Let’s go back I heard they’re about to do beer pong.” Sasha exclaims as she loops her arm with your own, walking before the boys down the hall. Trying to snatch you away in hopes of a bit of debriefing.

Jean is about to catch up, before Marco and Connie pull him back, both giving him knowing looks. He only answers with furrowed brows, waiting for his friends to answer as to why they’re holding him up.

“…you think she’s cute huh.” Connie teases, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, with his arms crossed to his chest. Marco knowing his best friend well enough, doesn’t even need to say anything to know that Connie wasn’t far off the mark.

“W-What? The hell are you two talking about? We barely just met her.” Jean very quickly responds. Defensive in his tone, a little TOO defensive if you ask. Marco only lets out a small chuckle through his nose because his best friend’s response only proved the theory correct.

“She’s just a friend of a friend. You both are on one. seriously.” Jean pushes past his best friends, quick to brush them off and leave this interrogation behind. All to prevent getting pressed any further with any other RIDICULOUS accusations.

Marco and Connie stand in the hall watching their friend stock off and rush downstairs. Looking back at each other, they both laugh as they haven’t seen Jean act this way in a while.

But really Jean was also trying to do anything to avoid his red ears being seen. As well as get his loudly thumping heart out of earshot from anyone. Swearing that the pounding in his ears from his heart would be able to be heard outwardly by anyone with ears.

You were just a friend of a friend. He had barely just met you in person for the first time. And yet here he was running off at the first signs of being caught in the act of crushing like a school kid.

#aot modern au #attack on titan headcanons #savkirschtein #aot college au #jean x reader #jean imagines #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer #sasha braus #marco bodt #aot fluff #aot imagines #aot x reader

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taixju · 2 years

Text

SUMMER LOVIN’

CONTENT WARNINGS: eren x fem!reader x jean, threesome, infidelity, scumbag!eren, cuckhold!jean, cunnilingus, oral (m + f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, dirty talk, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, rough sex, breeding kink, humiliation, dubcon, degradation, overstimulation, manipulation, daddy kink, dacryphilia, eavesdropping, piss kink (if you squint), porn with little plot (dark)

SYNOPSIS: When Eren offers you a summer job, he didn’t think his invitation was extended to your boyfriend. He had hoped to have you all to himself this summer...but Jean doesn’t mind sharing, right?

WORD COUNT: 7.2K

11:37 AM - The Lake

It was an unusually hot day. Muggy; the air was heavy and everything felt sticky. You sigh, fanning yourself only to be disappointed by the hot air. Your shirt was damp with sweat and clinging to your figure. Pulling your shirt over your head, you fling it to the back of the chair, totally unaware of the man watching you strip from across the lake. Reaching behind, you shyly hook a finger into your red bikini bottoms, tugging it free so that it was no longer digging into your ass. You were miserable, to say the least; contemplating ever coming to this shitty summer camp.

It all started when your mom phoned you a week before school got out. She was so excited to tell you about the great opportunity she had lined up for you this summer. And the best part?

Remember that boy, Eren, she gushed, Such a sweetheart – I told him that you would be home this summer and he was kind enough to extend a summer job position to you! Isn’t that great, honey?

Fucking fantastic.

Eren Yeager. Who didn’t know him? He was the neighborhood’s notorious fuck boy. Most guys wanted to be him; silently applauding him for being such “a goddamn pussy magnet.” And the men were not liars – to most women, this reputation preceded him; claiming him to be “a good fuck with a huuuge cock.”

And while you’d hate to admit it, your interest was piqued but your boyfriend was no idiot. Although Jean's colorful vocabulary described him as “a first class asshole”, he pretended that he didn’t know that you secretly wanted to know if the rumors were true. It didn’t matter, he reassured himself, 'cause you were his girl. Not Eren’s.

But what he didn’t know was that for the last few weeks you were here at Red Ridge Summer Camp, Eren Yeager was the last man you thought about as Jean fucked you, secretly imagining it was actually Eren’s “huuuge cock” drilling into your cunt.

So here you were. Stuck spending whatever remained of your summer break at Red Ridge Campgrounds. It wouldn’t be all that bad, you do your best to convince yourself. At the very least you weren’t alone – Jean being the stereotypical, adoring boyfriend, eagerly followed you, wagging tail and all, to the same summer job. But to say you were distracted by a certain someone, was a goddamn understatement.

You sit at the very top of the tower, scanning the sparkling lake over your tinted Ray Bans. Campers staying in the shallow? Check. Sasha supervising the deck? Check. Eren smoking a fat blunt? Fuck.

You hop out of your chair and climb down, making your way over to the man of the hour. He sees you coming but doesn’t make any attempt to hide the prohibited item.

“Come on, Eren,” you cross your arms, emphasizing your disapproval as you approach him.

Initially he doesn’t respond right away. Soaking up your appearance with his emerald eyes, he looks down at your chest unabashedly and as almost to test what little patience you had left, he blows the remnants of his last hit in your face.

“That’s my name,” He smirks—finally speaking before bringing the shrinking bud to his lips once again, “Love it when you say my name..”

His legs are spread wide open — his posture completely relaxed, all while exuding silent confidence. He’s shirtless; wearing nothing but swim shorts and a black SnapBack. You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling parched. And as if he knew you were staring, he grins, lifting his cap to run a hand through his messy hair which gives you the perfect view of the muscles flexing through his chest. He was fucking gorgeous and it wasn’t easy to ignore the fact that he was sweaty, making it even more difficult to remember the reason why you even walked over to him in the first place. His tongue teasingly darts out, swiping along his upper lip, licking up beads of perspiration before taking another long drag.

Jean was great. But again, that didn’t mean you were immune.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His grin, teasing. You blush, quickly clearing your throat before looking away.

“There’s children here, Eren,” you turn to him. He looks good. And it’s a challenge to not gawk. But weren’t about to boost his ego. He had enough of that and it takes everything within you to look straight and ignore his comment. “You’re setting a horrible example.”

“They don’t give a fuck what I’m doing,” he says nonchalantly but much to your relief, he snags the end of his blunt on the wooden table, putting it out.

“You’re a Camp Counselor. You’re supposed to be teaching them-..”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, cutting you off, “By the time, these little fucking terrors reach high school, more than half of them will be smoking grass out of their ass. Besides–”

He distracts you, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple – the corded muscles in his bicep flexing deliciously.

“–They can’t even see me from here.” His apathetic reply, makes you roll your eyes. He was older and the one who invited you here and yet, why were you clearly being the more responsible adult here?

“God. Why are you such an asshole?”

Your apparent anger seems to amuse him even more.

“Hey now. Let’s not use the Lord’s name in vain,” he jumps from the table, getting right up in your personal space. It startles you and you can’t help but shy back. As nervous as you were, you somehow managed to frown up at him, not wanting to appear scared, “I-It’s not as if you’re the most religious man, Eren.”

He stands tall, towering over you, and it was intimidating. You were in no way considered to be short but Eren was just that big. He takes a step forward and is suddenly close enough that his sweaty musk invades your nose. Your filthy mind can’t help but wander and wonder whether or not his dick was just as big, as you've heard. Given his size, you wouldn’t be surprised. He gives you a sadistic smile, as if to say he knew exactly what you were thinking.

If only you knew what kinds of fucked up thoughts he was thinking. The things he wanted to do to that dirty little mouth of yours. And if God himself had heard his prayers, your mouth parts slightly, your pink tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. Waiting. Waiting to see if either one of you would dare to go pass the forbidden threshold.

But that wasn’t today; He was testing you and you weren’t ready.

Eren grins.

“You just need to learn to lighten up, Princess.” He pats your cheek, patronizingly, breaking whatever trance he had over you, before walking away. You release a shaky breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

If there was one thing that could absolutely ruin your summer, it would be Eren Yeager.

1:59 PM

Eren is fucking miserable. He didn’t think his summer job invitation was extended to your boyfriend. What a great opportunity, he thought, to have you all to himself.

The reason behind his bad mood was the man across the room. Of all the people to be partnered up with for the rest of the summer, it had to be Kirstein. But the one thing that really irritated Eren? He was fucking jealous. Jean had the one thing that he couldn’t have and that was you.

He grunts, finishing his third set, placing the bar into their slots before sitting up and wiping sweat with the collar of his t-shirt. You’ve been on his mind all day and it frustrates him how…distracting you’ve been. There’s no way you didn’t know; how much he wanted you. Craved you. It was fucking insufferable. The way fanned yourself, as if you were oblivious to the fact that everyone could see your pretty tits right through that poor excuse of a shirt – wearing it as though you thought it actually covered anything. No matter how many times he jerked off; no matter how much pussy he emptied his load into – it didn’t fucking matter because every goddamn time made him realize he’s never going to truly be satisfied unless it was you.

His dick gets hard as he remembers you from this afternoon, scolding and reprimanding him for being such a naughty boy. It excites him; picturing the way your nose scrunches up every time he says anything mildly distasteful, how your eyes widened like a deer in the headlights when he came close; close enough to take notice of the way your nipples hardened and peaked through your thin t-shirt. It took everything within him not to take you right then and there.

But best believe he rubbed one off in the porta potty; after locking the door and wasting no time, he was quick to whip his cock out. It was fucking filthy – the way he had this routine down to a T; spitting a fat glob of saliva into his palm before vigorously fucking his fist, imagining it was actually your pretty pussy he was pummeling into. He doesn’t last long; sighing as he cums with a shudder, dirtying the toilet with his fat load.

That’s when Eren decided. Fuck Kirstein. One way or another, he was gonna fuck you by the end of this summer.

That night, you’re the last to go to bed. You’re alone in your tent but are fucking miserable. Of all the other tents in the camp, why did yours have to be right next door to Eren’s. You bury your head under the sleeping bag covers, unsuccessfully drowning out the screams from next door.

Fuck you’re so big!

Fuck me harder, ‘Ren!

Listening to the shrill screeches for the past 10 minutes left you in a pissy, but notably sexually frustrated, mood; silently wishing it was you who was evidently getting their brains fucked out.

“Jesus,” the sound of your boyfriend's voice startles you, he holds open the flap as he makes his way into your tent, “Sounds like someone’s being murdered.”

You open your arms wide, waiting for him to crawl into your embrace, “Here to keep me company?”

He kneels down, scooping you up and cuddling you close in his lap. He was just as big as Eren. Maybe even bigger. But it was different. Warm. Safe. Familiar.

“Go to sleep, love,” he presses a soft kiss to your temple, tucking you into your sleeping bag.

“Not sleepy,” you smile playfully, as you wrap your arms around his neck, straddling his lap as you grind against his now hardening cock.

“Here?” he groans, digging his fingers into your ass, “Fuck – baby, I-I don’t know about this.”

“Promise I’ll be quiet, daddy” you drawl, pressing your lips to his, and drowning out the moans that he swallows. The both of you know that, that’s a fucking lie to which he grins, allowing you to erotically explore his mouth but the sound of the dirty sex next door is distracting.

You can almost picture it in your head; heavy balls slapping against the lucky girls’ ass as Eren’s thick cock plunges into her needy cunt. It’s as though he wanted you to hear. Wanted to make you jealous. And it almost works. But Jean, noticing your lack of concentration, pinches your chin, forcibly opens your mouth, before unshakably commanding, “Stick your tongue out. That’s it...That’s my good girl.”

His praises make you wet; And you can’t help but moan as he wraps his lips around the tip of your tongue, nursing it as he would your tit, while his hands quickly make their way into the front of your panties. He pulls away to get a better look as he runs circles around your slickened clit.

“Fuck,” he curses, “Come here.”

He wraps his arms around your tummy, instructing you to turn around, and hums in approval when you finally settle your both knees along the sides of his head. He grunts when the bulge in his briefs nudges your chin and that alone is difficult for you to ignore.

“Wanna eat you out, baby,” he presses light kisses to the outside of your pussy, making you whimper, “Like the sound of that?...Yeah? My good girl wanna ride my tongue?”

You don’t reply, allowing your actions to speak for yourself, pulling his cock free before swallowing his length whole, and it’s not long before his swollen tip hits the back of your throat. Inhale through the nose, you remind yourself as you pull back up, trailing your flat tongue along the veiny backside of his dick, salty precum leaving a slick trail to your pouty lips.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jean mumbles into your puffy lips. His fat tongue invading your entrance, fucking you fast and curling upward every time it’s inside of you. Your cunt is gushing with your own slick and his warm spit; the lude wet sounds filling up your tent as you take his cock into your mouth once again.

And as almost on cue, you hear Eren’s faint grunts and groans not too far away.

That’s it. Fuck-..!

You picture Eren ramming the lucky girl from behind, his fingers digging into her hips as he drills his fat cock into her loose cunt.

My cock that good, baby? Huh?

“So good,” you unintentionally answer, whining loud enough for Eren to hear. You hump Jean’s face, digging your hands into his thighs as he pushes a second finger into you, all while his thumb and tongue take turns flicking your clit.

What was that? Can’t hear you. You hear Eren breathily chuckle.

So fucking good ‘Ren! You’re cock’s fucking good! The woman in his tent shrieks. You dig your toes into the ground, mentally cursing him because you know he can hear you.

Gonna come for me? Yeah? You close? Eren grunts, with each plunge eliciting a loud slap every time his hips meet the woman’s cunt.

Suddenly, Jean flips you over, kneeling over you as he takes off his shirt, his muscles flexing as he grabs your thighs and tugs you close. Before you can complain, his fingers are quick to find their place inside of you once again. He leans down, wrapping his entire mouth around your cunt, before sucking at your clit loudly. He knew what Eren was doing but he wanted to make sure the man in the other tent knew exactly what he was missing out on; No cunt was as sweet as yours and no amount of pussy would be able to make up for his loss.

“J-Jean-..!” You squirm, gripping the thin sheets of the sleeping bag. He presses his large hand into your lower belly, holding down firmly to keep your hips from rising off the ground. You were so close.

He adds a third finger and it enters you with ease. The way your walls clench around him makes him groan, his voice vibrating along his tongue and against your clit as he continues to ravage you from the inside out. As his fingers plunge in and out, you can’t help but notice his pinky teasing the puckered hole of your ass, dipping back into your cunt every so often to lubricate its tip. The sensation alone is enough to make you shiver and the sounds of Eren’s rough fucking brings you even closer to your high.

Cum for me, that’s it. Squeeze my cock - just like that, babygirl.

Jean reaches down to squeeze his own cock, vigorously pumping up and down its slippery length, just as excited as you are by what the both of you are overhearing. You watch him through heavy eyelids, as he strokes himself to the same rhythm that he is using to fuck you with his fingers and tongue. The sight of your boyfriend getting off to Eren’s demanding commands and your own desperate mewls, makes you quiver. It was too much.

Fuck ‘Ren! The girl screams.

Clearly close to achieving his own release, Eren’s desperate chants echo through the woods, Cum, cum, cum-...!

Your body tenses up, reiterating his command, “G-Gonna cum-...!”

And all three of you meet your high. You tremble as you cum against Jean’s mouth; your cunt leaking past his lips as he does his best to lap up every last drop of your slick. As he does this, Jean sighs, shuddering as spills his seed all over the ground.

Your boyfriend is apologetic as he cleans the both of you up and does his best to get rid of his mess on the floor. You watch sleepily from the warmth of your sleeping bag as Jean, like the wonderful boyfriend he is, tidies up your messy tent before crawling behind you, spooning your back, and pulling your smaller frame to his. Your eyelids fail to keep open, as everything slowly fades out. The last thing you remember is feeling him press a gentle kiss to your temple and then everything fades to black.

When you awake, it’s still dark outside but you notice that your tent is empty. Jean must have left your tent to return to his and much to your satisfaction, you notice that it has finally gone quiet next door. You sigh, feeling the tight pressure in your bladder. Reaching into the dark, you grab your phone; it was 2:03 AM. There was no way anyone would be awake at this hour and you were too scared to walk all the way over to the bathrooms. The counselor tents were separated from the camper’s tents and knowing that you’d be quick, you weren’t too worried about being caught.

Your sleeping bag ruffles when you kick it off with your legs and crawl over to the exit. When you unzip the flaps, you brush the hair from your face as you stand to your feet and exit the tent. The wind is cold and nips at your bare skin, eliciting goosebumps to rise along your arms. You make your way over to the side of the tent but are startled when you hear the crunch of someone else’s steps behind you.

“Jean?” You quickly twirl around but are immediately taken aback when your eyes lock eyes with dark green one’s.

You stand silently; Neither one of you speaking a word, chests heaving as the heavy tension builds. Your tongue darts out, wetting your dry lips, as you unashamedly let your eyes wander – he’s shirtless, standing before you in nothing but his dark gray briefs. The sight alone is enough to make your cunt twitch, readying itself for a possible round two.

“E-Eren,” you shudder under his intense gaze, “You scared me. I–…I thought you were Jean.”

“Didn’t mean to disappoint you, sweetheart.” His eyes darken at the mention of your boyfriend but greedily drinks in your appearance, appreciating your lack of clothing.

You recall the intense fucking he gave that woman just a few hours ago. How you had secretly wished it was you beneath him all that time. You knew he was teasing you and deep down he was actually praying that you’d take the bait; Eavesdrop as he drilled into the woman, who’s name he didn’t even remember, all while fantasizing it was actually you he was drilling his cock into. You don’t know what overcomes you but without breaking eye contact with the man in front of you, you bite your lip; the last drop of hesitation leaving your body as you shudder, and bend down to slide your panties off.

“...Do you mind?” You release a shaky breath, shocked at the boldness that suddenly overcame you.

Ignoring your remark, he watches, slack mouthed as you release your bladder into the earth. Your eyes never leave his, but you can’t help but notice the large bulge growing in his dark briefs.

You’re the first to break the tension; Standing up, you pull your panties up with you, before turning to walk away.

“Pervert,” you mutter, feeling triumphant as you turn to hide your nipples that seemed to harden under his gaze.

“Fuck.” He curses.

And before you know it, Eren has your wrist in his strong grasp, turning you back to face him, quickly wrapping an arm around your middle and lifting you up onto his shoulder with ease. The adrenaline coursing through your body makes it difficult to breathe but you are surprised by your choice to not to fight back. He steps back into his tent, not even bothering to zip the flap closed, putting both of you in danger of possibly being seen.

The uncertainty makes you shiver and you release a heavy breath as your back hits the puffy sleeping bag that smells deeply of him. He groans seeing that your legs immediately part, giving him the perfect view of your clothed cunt, ready for his taking: a gorgeous welcome just for him. Thick fingers delicately glide up the sides of your thighs, tickling your skin in its wake; before settling in the leg holes of your panties. He tugs them down hard, making your ass slide against the ground as your body is pulled closer to him.

“Not too rough–” you prop yourself up on elbows, beginning to protest but are cut off by a heavy breath leaving your lungs as his hand wraps around your breast, squeezing tightly before shoving you back down. You watch through teary eyes as he scoots back, wrapping muscled arms around your thighs, hoisting your lower body up, and then finally burying his face into your awaiting cunt.

Oh god, ‘Ren, the shrill words unintentionally spill from your mouth followed by a trembling wail.

The taste of you on his tongue is divine; and Eren, who’s been dreaming of this for months, who wastes no time, attacking your clit in quick circles before sliding down to dart quickly in and out of your entrance. He groans, lapping and sucking at your swollen bud, savoring the delicious taste of you.

“God, you taste so fucking good.”

Eren hadn’t planned on fucking you but with his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you, he already knew that he was ruined; after he was finished with you tonight, no other cunt would be good enough to satisfy him.

He watches you closely, enjoying the way you twitch every time his tongue rolls against your pulsating clit. Without warning, he pushes a finger into you, occupying his other hand, holding tightly onto your thigh so that your hips wouldn’t escape his hungry mouth. His cock is already hard for the second time that night, the tip weeping and eager to plug you up.

“God,” he moans, feeling the walls of your slick cunt constrict around his fingers, “You’re so fucking wet. That feel good, baby?”

“So good, ‘Ren,” you mewl, gripping his sheets, hating that you sounded exactly like the girls who frequented his tent this summer. But you can’t help yourself. You’ve never felt this fucking good. Jean never made you feel this good.

His hot breath fans across your clit as he devilishly watches you squirm from below. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, thumbing your clit and taking turns with his tongue.

“Say I’m better than him.” He rasps, his mouth making a mess on your pussy, “Fucking say it.”

He doesn’t have to speak his name to let you know exactly who he is referring to. You shake your head profusely and to that, he’s quick to pull his fingers out just to make his point.

“No-..!” You unintentionally whine, feeling disappointed when your pussy clenches around absolutely nothing. He smirks, teasingly blowing cool air against your entrance, his face glistening with your juices as he repeats himself, “Say it.”

You begin to cry, feeling guilty as you think of your poor boyfriend. Sleeping soundly while you’re fucking Eren Yeager behind his back. You were such a fucking whore.

“You’re better,” you sniffle, wiping tears from your puffy eyes.

“Than who?” He presses.

When you don’t reply, he shocks you, slapping your pussy hard.

“Than who?”

“J-Jean!” You yelp, crying harder than before. “Fuck you, Eren! You make me feel better than Jean!”

“Yeah, I fucking do,” he chuckles darkly between breathy pants, diving his fingers and face back into your cunt. You instantly feel full and it feels so good. Your little whines slowly begin to fade into noisy pleads,

So good ‘Ren, fuck me harder — yes, right — fucking—there—!

Eren loves the sound of your voice, especially when you’re screaming his name. You have a deeper effect on him, than he’d rather like to admit.

“Fuck, this is all your fault,” he groans, pulling away just to spit on your cunt before he’s back and burying his face even deeper. He angles his face, his nose pressing against your clit as his fat tongue stretches your desperate hole.

“Fuck,” you dig your fingers into his scalp, tugging his hair to bring him even closer, humping his face like a bitch in heat.

“Gonna cum, ‘Ren — fuck-…!” Your voice raising an octave higher.

He doesn’t let up, fucking you with his tongue and his fingers are a blur – rubbing your clit so fast, so hard —And then…you’re cumming. Your slick sprays everywhere, making a mess on his sleeping bag. He groans when he feels you clench around tongue; which only encourages him more and leaves him desperate to find out how good you’d feel around his cock. You moan out his name as your brain becomes foggy with ecstasy, your trembling thighs instinctively going to wrap around his face, bringing him close to ride out your orgasm.

“All your fucking fault,” he repeats himself, spreading your swollen lips apart, ignoring that it’s still so sensitive to the touch. Eren, wanting to savor this moment, admires the way your cunt pulsates as you’re still coming down from your high. He licks his lips like a starved man, enjoying the sight as he reaches down to push down his underwear. And then suddenly, he’s sitting up, sliding the hem of his briefs down, tucking it under his heavy balls, and giving you a better view of his cock as it springs back to hit his toned belly. The rumors are true; not only does its size surprise you but the fact it was so thick.

He was gonna fucking break you.

Eren doesn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath, thrusting his hips forward, and burying his cock in your cunt that’s still recovering from your first orgasm. He hasn’t felt this way in a while; digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, doing his best not to cum early and empty his fat load inside of you. He grunts, struggling to hold himself together — cause every time your pussy swallows his cock whole, it makes him feel like a fucking virgin all over again.

“Fuck, Princess,” He gets on his knees, lifting your hips up, allowing him to drill his cock deeper — using your cunt as his own personal flesh light. “This pussy feels so good — best I’ve ever had.”

“Eren,” you cry, throwing your head back, feeling your stomach tighten. It was overwhelming; tears running down your cheeks because it was so fucking sensitive – his cock ramming into your cunt, stretching it and filling it up until his wet tip was kissing your cervix. “T-too much—..! Please I-I’m gonna—…!”

“You’ll take what I fucking give you,” he tugs your tank top down, revealing your bare breasts. Eren loves your tits; daydreamed about them, would’ve given anything to have a taste and here he was — had you before him ripe for the taking. He gives them a hard squeeze before leaning down and taking them into his mouth; licking, sucking, nipping — anything to make you scream his name again.

“Think your boyfriend can hear us?” He sneers up at you, reaching down to play with your overstimulated clit — he’s already decided that you were gonna give him another orgasm. “What do you think he’d say, huh? Seeing his pretty girl begging for my cock like a fucking slut.”

No.

“Why don’t I leave a little present for him, hm?” His hips are relentless and at this point your cunt has been fucked raw; feels so good that it hurts. “Fuck! Gonna cum soon, Princess—…!”

No, no, no—!

“‘Ren?” Your voice is shrill and filled with panic, immediately understanding what he means, “Y-You’re gonna pull out, right?”

Your knees are shoved up into your face as his pace becomes sloppy. Sweat drips down, making the both of you feel sticky.

“Right, ‘Ren?” You cry out, feeling so good, but you needed his confirmation.

“God—Fuck—…! I’m gonna—…!”

And then he’s cumming. Shooting his hot load into you; your pussy quivering around his cock, totally overstimulated, as he rides out his high.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Eren groans, his body slumping against yours as his hips grind against yours, making sure your womb milked him of every last drop. You do your best to catch your breath, your throat raw from all the screaming.

The night is silent; so silent that even the wind was still. You throw an arm over your face, hiding the tears that began pooling in your eyes. You’d be shocked if Jean didn’t hear you.

Little did you know, just outside of Eren’s tent, your boyfriend, in fact, did hear you. Jean shudders, biting down onto the hem of his shirt, careful not to make any noise – grasping onto the nearby tree for support as he continues to fuck his cum soaked fist, just coming down from his own high. He releases tiny gasps, abs rippling as he clenches his ass, his load dripping down and painting the dirt ground white. He heard every single fucking thing.

And the wildest thing? He fucking enjoyed it.

It’s been a day since your encounter with Eren. You’re a little afraid that he’ll tell Jean but something about your shared secret turns you on. It’s the shoulder bumps to which he claims, Sorry, my bad, was an accident – when you really know it wasn’t; Or the not so subtle longing looks he gives you as he watches you from across the cafeteria during dinner time. It’s those little moments that get your adrenaline pumping, making it harder to forget the night he dragged you to his tent.

It was night time now and all the campers had long gone to bed. Eren, Jean and you had been assigned to cafeteria duty; stuck cleaning the kitchens after dinner. But the three of you had completed the task a while ago. Instead of heading straight to be, afraid of what Eren might say to Jean, you stuck around; listening to the men exchange the ghost stories and urban legends that surrounded the camp. You originally thought it was all fun and games until Eren, thinking it would be funny to scare you -- decided to be a fucking asshole; jumping you in the walk-in cabinet as you were putting the dried dishes away. Jean, however, was not amused.

“Scared of the boogie man, Kirstein?” Eren props his dirty doc martens on the table, throwing his head back and releasing a puff of smoke into the air. “Gonna wet your pants?”

“Shut the fuck up, Yeager. Can’t you take a fucking hint and see that she’s scared?”

For once you think you see a flash of regret in Eren's eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with amusement. He doesn’t reply, continuing to smoke his bud. Inhale. Exhale.

He puts the last of his roll out on the table, it’s remnants sizzling out with a quick twist of his fingers, “Don’t be such a fucking pussy. You’re scaring her more than I am.”

“You’re such a fucking prick.” Jean stands up and is suddenly up in Eren’s face. He has the other man’s shirt bunched up in a fist, looking like he’s ready to throw the first punch.

“Ever since we got here, you’ve been getting on my fucking nerves, Yeager. Can’t seem to keep your goddamn eyes off my girl - and don’t act like you haven’t. I’ve seen you.” Jean sneers, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. He thinks you don’t hear him, but you do.

“Jean,” you say his name warily, knowing exactly what you’re walking into. You should feel guilty. But tell me why, you ask yourself, why the fuck were you turned on by their anger.

“Did you get hard after you saw her at the lake?” Jean shakes his collar roughly for good measure, “Got bricked up after seeing her pretty tits, huh?”

Eren smirks as if he knew something that Jean didn’t. And you know exactly why. He did know something that your boyfriend didn’t. Don’t tell him, you feel as though you should be telling yourself that. But a part of you wants Eren to go ahead and tattle, tell and let your boyfriend know what the two of you did.

And much to your concealed delight, Jean doesn’t stop.

“Too bad you can’t touch her, huh? Yeah, not like I fucking can. Bet you couldn’t help yourself - probably ran back to your tent like a little bitch to jack off-..!”

Eren’s knuckles smash into Jean’s face with a bone chilling crunch. He’s quick to tackle the brunette to the ground, the chair clanging to the side as he climbs atop, gaining absolute control of the situation.

“You’re right, Kiersten. I did rub one off the other day and let me tell you,” he runs his tongue along the trickle of red along Jean’s cheek, “Thinking of her made it all the more delicious.”

Eren’s fists let up, allowing Jean to turn his head to the side, spitting out blood between kissed teeth.

“You’re fucking sick, Yeager.”

This makes Eren laugh.

“You’re one to talk. Maybe…Maybe, if you fucked her right,” his voice darkens, “She wouldn’t have come begging for my cock last night.”

Eren leans down, his golden chain dancing tauntingly in front of Jean’s bloodied face. “Wanna know what we did?”

“Eren, stop.” You hiss.

He looks at you, grinning before turning back to your boyfriend. Wanna tell him or should I? — his gaze speaks for itself.

“While you were asleep, — can you guess what we did, Jeany-boy? Huh?” He digs his elbow against his chest, leans forward, and brings his voice down to a sinister whisper, “Fucked her real good – so hard, she begged for seconds.”

Jean grinds his teeth, his breath coming out in seething heaves as he tries to shove the other man off. But Eren is stronger. He keeps Jean in place without much effort.

Eren chuckles. “She let me cum in her too. Isn’t she so generous?”

Jean doesn’t answer.

“And that's just the cherry on top! Let me tell you...such a loyal girlfriend you’ve got, Kiersten. You should be proud of her — she actually thought it was you.” He sneers, almost in a jeering manner, “Imagine the surprise on her face when she turned around to see it was Eren Yaeger…but that didn’t really stop her, now did it?”

You take a few staggering steps forward. It feels like you’re having an out of body experience but it’s when Eren whips his head to look you directly in the eye. The look alone speaks for itself. Don’t fucking move.

You freeze and don’t even attempt to argue cause it was all fucking true.

“Oh,” Eren sighs before, turning his head back, giving a few condescending slaps to the side of your boyfriend's face, “And Jean…should you really be the one calling me sick? Why don’t you tell her what you did, hm?”

Jean spits a wad of blood and saliva into his face - but your boyfriend’s tormented reaction only makes Eren grin wider.

“Shall we talk about the way you purposefully let me fuck her or how you hid like a fucking pussy – not only watching us like a fucking perv but jacked off to us too. Tell me, boyfriend, who’s the fucking sicko now?”

You wait. Wait for Jean to deny but he turns away, his silence speaking louder than words.

“Should I fuck her again?” Eren taunts, reaching down to palm Jean’s dick, only to humiliate him more when he finds that he’s hard, “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you.”

You whimper, sinking down to your knees before slowly crawling over to the both of them. You should feel guilty but the change in atmosphere made you feel something completely different.

“Why don’t we ask the lady of the hour?” He pinches Jean’s face, jerking it to the side to look at you. “She look guilty to you?”

Jean whimpers. Whimpers.

“Bet she’s wet as fuck right now,” Eren snickers. And he was right. If you weren’t soaked through your panties, surely you were now.

He stands up, shoving your boyfriend to the ground as he walks over to you until his cock is at eye level. He caresses your face, tilting your head up to look at him with the tip of his finger.

“Why don’t we show him, hm?” Eren says softly, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he makes his way around you, sliding his long legs on either side of your body, your back hitting his broad chest before pulling you completely onto his lap. You whimper, immediately feeling how hard he is. His hands instinctively find their way to your breasts, groping them until your nipples are hard enough to be poking through your shirt. Eren grabs the left side of your face, tilting it to the side allowing him access to your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin. He smirks, feeling you shiver and chuckles when he sees your boyfriend, sit up, entranced at the sight of him having his way with you.

“Jesus fuck, you getting hard, Kirstein?” Eren chuckles, slipping a hand into your shorts, hand quickly finding your clit. “Fuck, she’s so wet – you turned on by this too, sweetheart?”

You moan, digging your heels into the ground as Eren rubs faster.

Slowly, Jean crawls over on all fours, wanting to get a better look. As he approaches, your legs immediately widen, letting your boyfriend know that he was more than welcomed to do more than watch. He hesitates before reaching for your shorts, hooking a finger in your panties as well – tugging them down, his fingers tickling your skin as he pulls the clothing off your legs.

Eren takes advantage of the moment, bringing both hands to your cunt, his muscular arms pressing against your tits, making it hard to breathe as he spreads your pussy lips wide, stretching your hole so Jean could get a good look.

And without another word, Jean leans forward, burying his face between your thighs; his tongue slipping right past Eren’s fingers and into your awaiting cunt.

Eren filled with jealousy at the sight, is impatient as fuck, not wanting to wait for his turn – shedding his pants, he shoves your face down, the back of your head hitting the ground as he crawls over you, his heavy cock slapping your cheek as he meets Jean half-way. And without any warning, he aligns the tip with your lips before pushing himself all the way inside. He’s so big that you gag, fucking your face without any mercy, and its not long before his hips find the perfect rhythm – his balls slapping against your face as his tip kisses the back of your throat, no doubt bulging in your neck after every thrust. You knew that he was big but you struggle to not to tear up every time he sheathes himself entirely within you; his massive size makes it hard to breathe. Your body spasms; the need for oxygen and the feeling of the two men eating you out, leaves you feeling delirious.

“Told you she’d fucking like it,” Eren groans, he spits on your clit before flicking it back and forth at the same pace he’s fucking your face.

Jean responds by shoving his fat tongue into your opening, purposefully making the wet muscle wide in order to split you wide open. He scoops his hands under your ass, digging them into your flesh so that he could lift you up, raising your hips to better meet him and Eren.

“She’s gonna cum,” your boyfriend moans, “I can fucking feel it – she’s clenching ‘round me so hard.”

“You gonna cum, baby?” Eren asks through breathy pants, his tongue not letting up its assault, “You’re the dirtiest of us all, aren’t you? So fucking greedy, getting off on the both of us making out with your pussy.”

“Yeah, she is,” Jean urges, his middle finger rimming your puckered ass, “Didn’t know my girlfriend was such a fucking whore.”

“Fuck, she’s so close,” Eren uses his fingers to spread your puffy lips apart, shoving his cock back down your throat, grinding down on your face before pulling back up, “Why don’t you stop being such a fucking pussy and actually fuck your girlfriend, Kirstein – like you fuckin’ mean it this time, yeah?”

Jean gets to his knees, freeing his hard cock from his pants, before sinking into you. Your slit wraps around his fat girth, sucking him in deep. Your body shakes, instantly feeling stuffed all while Eren continues to slurp at your swollen clit.

All of it is too much; Eren fucking your throat – Jean stuffing you full of cock. You were gonna lose your fucking mind.

“You gonna cum, Kirstein?” Eren taunts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jean groans, focusing on the feeling of being swallowed up.

“You’re close aren’t you?” He angles his hips slightly, directing his teasing towards you, “Tell him how much you want it, sweetheart – how much of a fucking cumslut you are.”

“Please,” you whine, dragging scratches down Eren’s back.

“Please…what?”

You scream in frustration. How infuriating.

“Please...fuck-..! Fill me up, daddy – need it so much–...!”

Your boyfriend’s pace increases, encouraged by your desperate pleads, pumping in and out of you vigorously, his hips racking against your own sloppily as he chases his own release; 'Til he’s groaning, jutting into you at a slower pace as fulfills your request, filling you up – and Eren right in tow, white streams spurting out their slippery tips, filling both of your holes, coating your messy walls white.

And it's at that moment when he empties his load deep inside – you cum hard; squirting all over Jean’s cock, the splash back hitting Eren’s face as he continues to lap at your overstimulated clit.

“S-Stop–please, stop,” you cry, doing your best to shove both of them off, “It’ t-too much – ohmygod fuck, its too muuuuch…!”

Despite your protests, Eren smiles, pressing light kisses against your sensitive sex all while Jean lazily thumbs your ass. The two men had one thing in common and that was making a goddamn mess out of you.

Maybe…Just maybe, Jean wouldn't mind sharing you after all.

#eren yeager x reader smut #jean kirstein x reader smut #eren x reader smut #jean x reader smut #jean kirstein smut #eren yeager smut #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #aot smut #aot x reader smut #eren x reader x jean #eren x reader x jean smut #eren smut #jean smut #taixju’s summer of 22’ collab

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shakiradaily · 1 year

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SHAKIRA Acróstico (Official Video)

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jaegersdevil · 9 months

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three plans - eren jaeger

College!Eren x Fem!Reader

summary: eren needs help asking you out!!

cw: use of y/n, very rushed ending, mikasa & jean are dating (briefly mentioned), eren and jean actually get along, the dorms are massive at my fake college (i'm talking like 2-bedroom apartment-sized, ok).

w/c: 3.4k

Eren was about to leave. He sat on the couch in Jean Kirstein’s dorm and waited for him to return from his management class, cursing himself repeatedly for asking Jean, of all people, to help him with his issue.

To be fair, you weren’t the worst issue Eren could have, but his situation, or lack of situation, with you was… an issue. Eren would consider himself a confident guy until it came to you. He had barely spoken to you, becoming speechless whenever you were nearby.

Despite having class together, he was sure he wouldn’t know what to tell you if he bumped into you on the street. So, yeah, it was a sizeable issue, considering he was harbouring the world’s biggest crush on you.

Toying with the hem of his sweat shorts and chewing on his bottom lip, Eren sat in silence. He was well aware of Jean's invitation to play NBA 23 on the PS5, but he was too nervous to even think about taking up the offer. He’d rather sit, wallowing in his anxiety, than play a video game. So, yeah, maybe this issue was larger than he thought.

“Ok, what do you want?” Jean’s voice and the slamming of the dorm door simultaneously cut through the quiet, making Eren jump in his spot.

Upon realising what he was about to tell Jean, Eren turned red. He opened his mouth to say ‘never mind’, 'forget it’, or even your name, but nothing came out.

“Woah, bro, you good?” Jean threw his backpack onto his desk chair and tilted his head. Eren nodded and then shook his head before nodding again. Jean scoffed out a laugh and held his hands out. “Okay, let’s start with making sure that you’re breathing. You’re breathing, right?”

Eren put his hand on his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest before letting out a ‘yes’.

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed; he’d never seen Eren like this before. “Eren, calm down. Wait, you’re not dying, are you?” Jean’s sudden panic caused the brunette to shoot up from the couch.

“No! No, Jean, I’m not. But I’m the most embarrassed I’ve ever been right now, so can you just stop asking me questions, please, and I’ll tell you what’s up.”

The smirk on Jean’s face dropped when he realised how much this was affecting Eren. Jean didn’t speak as he nodded and sat on the couch Eren previously sat on, urging him to continue.

Eren glared at him. “If I hear one word out of your mouth—”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Eren sighed as he ran his hands over his face. “I like this girl, and—”

Jean’s eyes widened. “No way! You’re like this over a girl?” He exclaimed.

Eren clenched his jaw and tilted his head when the 6’2” boy jumped up and began shaking his shoulders. “Bro!”

Jean’s hysterical laughter could be heard down the hallway, piquing the interest of Sasha and Connie, who smiled knowingly before they left their dorm.

“Forget I ever told you, Kirstein,” Eren said lowly, shoving Jean’s hands off his shoulders. But before he could leave, the dorm door swung open.

“Jaeger, what’s going on?” Sasha’s voice was twinged with mischief, Connie following close behind. Eren wished the floor would swallow him whole.

But before he could make his great escape, Jean sported a cheeky grin and hooked his arm around the shorter boy’s neck, pulling him into a loose headlock. “Eren likes a girl, and he’s sooo shy about it.”

“Y/n?” Connie said. Everyone paused their movements, Eren trying to escape Jean’s death grip and Sasha moving forward to tickle him.

“How—?” Eren started before Connie cut him off.

“Don’t think we don’t notice how you practically stare at her in Finance and search for her at the courts. You’re the most un-subtle person ever, Eren.”

Connie knew he had hit the nail on the head when Eren turned a deep shade of pink, making his friends whoop in laughter.

“Eren’s whipped!” They teased, ruffling his hair and poking him in the ribs as he attempted to leave.

“No, don’t leave! We’ll help you!” Sasha called after Eren when he walked out the door.

Eren stopped in the middle of the hallway. Was he really about to take girl advice from a bunch of idiots? Did he have another choice? He knew he'd get teased relentlessly if he told Armin and Mikasa. But he'd already told these three, and they were the biggest loudmouths in the universe.

Groaning, Eren spun on his heel and trudged back into Jean’s dorm.

“Fine.”

—

The night before, after telling the boys and Sasha about his issue, Eren was given a plan and told to follow it.

It was the first class of the day, and Eren held his usual black coffee in one hand and a note in his other. He rolled his eyes and shoved the scrap piece of paper Jean, Sasha, and Connie had written on in his pocket before running a hand through his hair. There’s no way he was going through with this.

“Ready for the plan?” Connie asked, a giggle slipping through as he shook Eren’s arm.

Eren forgot he had Finance with him. “Yeah, bro. Totally.”

Connie smirked, adjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder. “Get ready. Phase one is in motion.”

Eren was about to ask him what he meant but was instead rendered speechless when he spotted you disappearing through the doors to the lecture hall.

“Come on,” Connie pulled Eren along, nearly tripping them both. Meanwhile, Eren was running through what to say to you. His palms were sweaty, his breathing was shallow, and he licked his lips nervously.

He saw you giggling with one of your friends, someone he had yet to know the name of, but he could barely take his gaze off you. So effortlessly gorgeous with kind eyes. Shy and reserved, but he’d seen you at parties and knew that you were the opposite when you were with the right people and in the right place. He hoped he’d eventually be someone you could be yourself around.

“Go,” Connie’s voice brought him back to reality, and before he knew it, he was shoving Eren in your direction.

“Con—”

“Hey, Eren.” Your voice.

Eren stood straight as a board, frantically looking at Connie behind him. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He then focused his attention on the wall behind you, trying to remember the notes on the paper and the plan he was told to follow. The plan!

“Oh! Uh—hey, Y/n. What’s up?” He internally cringed at his attempt to talk to you.

“Not much, just freaking out over the quiz today,” You laughed, playing with your pen.

Eren’s eyes widened.

“There’s a quiz today,” He said it more to himself as a realisation than a question, but you nodded.

“Yep, on topics 3-6.”

Eren sucked in his cheeks. How could he forget?

“Eren, you okay?” You asked him. He exhaled and nodded, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.

“I should probably sit.”

You held back a laugh and nodded again, not knowing what more to say. Eren would have slapped himself had he not been in a lecture hall with 300 others.

“Bye, Y/n,” He rushed, turning around and making a beeline to where Connie sat a few rows down.

He wore a devilish smirk when Eren plopped into the seat beside him. “So, loverboy? How did it go?”

Eren shook his head, flustered. “Nothing happened. We’re moving on.”

Connie’s jaw hung open. “No, the plan says—”

“Fuck the fucking plan, Springer. It’s not happening. I can’t do it.”

Connie felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. “Eren—”

“Nope, I’m spending the rest of my life alone.”

Eren didn’t dare turn around to look back at you in fear you’d have realised his intentions and laugh at him for his attempt to flirt with you.

Connie opened his mouth to joke about something to quarrel Eren’s anxieties, but the lecturer spoke loudly over the microphone and announced that there was, in fact, a quiz.

Plan #1 = A Fail

“I just don’t understand why we can’t tell the rest of the group. I feel like this is a friend group issue,” Connie complained.

“This is not a friend group issue, Constance, this is a me issue, and I have come to you to help me. If I wanted their help, I would’ve asked them,” Eren said firmly.

Connie threw his hands up in defence and nodded, mouthing a ‘sorry.’

Jean shook his head. “I agree with Connie."

"Me too!" Sasha cut in.

"We should tell them.”

“No! I’m not telling them, and soon, I won’t be telling you about this anymore," Eren mumbled.

“But, Eren, you know we love helping you! I’m sure they would love it too,” Sasha urged, sighing when the brunette shook his head.

“Not happening.”

The two boys and Sasha groaned and began arguing their points.

“At least tell Armin and Mikasa. I think they deserve to know what’s going on,” Sasha hinted, smiling widely when Eren glared at her.

—

“You what?” Mikasa’s yell made Eren step forward and cover his best friend’s mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eren whispered. "You can’t tell anyone.“

He took his hand off Mikasa’s face and rubbed his eye with his knuckle.

“You can’t talk to a girl because you’re scared?” Mikasa provoked, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle her childish laughter. “This hasn’t happened before.”

“Thanks, dipshit, I know,” Eren rolled his eyes before pacing the room.

Eren was usually the shit-stirrer of the friend group, but his friends could tell when he was in distress, and clearly, not being able to speak to you was turning out to be a bigger deal than they initially thought.

“You really like her?” Armin asked.

Eren was shocked when he didn’t hear an ounce of humour in his best friend’s voice. “Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s devise a plan, then.”

Eren shook his head. “No, no more planning. I’ve already tried Sasha’s plan.”

“Wait, Sasha knows?” Armin’s eyes widened.

Eren laughed and nodded. “And Jean and Connie.”

“Wow, so much for being our best friend, Eren,” Mikasa joked, ruffling his hair.

“Get off me, and fine. If you want to make a plan, talk to them and I’ll see if your plan is good enough to use.”

—

“This is a shit plan.”

Armin gawked. “You haven’t even read through all of it yet.”

Eren shook his head. “I don’t need to read all of it to know it’s shit.”

Armin rolled his eyes and scrunched up the piece of paper in his hand. He grumbled something as he did so and found the trash can in Jean’s room to throw it in.

“Ok, fine. Think about it this way,” Jean said, ripping another page from the notebook. “You’re Eren fucking Jaeger, okay? You’re hot and you’re great with girls, and if Y/n is the one you really want and she’s as great as you say she is, then there’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll like you too. But bro, gonna be honest, this is sad to watch.”

“Shut the hell up,” Eren mumbled, a smile gracing his cheeks. But nonetheless, he cocked his head in contemplation and with a surge of confidence, he was off. Jean’s words were next to hopeless, but he was right about one thing.

Eren really wanted you.

You sat in the coffee shop on the edge of campus like you did every Thursday afternoon, except this time, you’d be getting a visit from Eren.

You hadn’t expected him to stumble towards you in class last Monday morning, but you were glad he did. You’d been wanting to talk to him since the first time you saw him and you counted your lucky stars that he initiated the first conversation before you had to. Although calling it a conversation would be an overstatement, it was a few words at best. Nonetheless, since last Monday, you’d been looking for him more than you usually did.

But, sitting in the coffee shop like you did most weeks, you didn’t expect him to put up a chair beside you. In fact, you would’ve never anticipated the hard set of his jaw with the contrast of his nervous eyes, but you weren’t complaining.

“Hey, Y/n,” Eren greeted, his hands laced together on the table. The corner of your lip drew upwards at the sudden company.

“Hi, Ren,” You replied sweetly. You didn’t miss the way his cheeks tinted pink at the way you used his nickname. It was cute when you said it.

“Uh—I was just wondering if you..” He trailed off, and you tilted your head, urging him to continue. “If you, uh, had the notes for class last week? After the quiz?” He said in a rush. Your shoulders visibly slumped at the mention of class but nodded, alas.

“Yeah, I can email them over to you, or text, whichever is easier,” You smiled; however, Eren noticed it didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did.

“You can text them to me, that would be best. Here, let me give you my number,” Eren grinned, and you felt a spark in your chest. He had the prettiest smile.

You passed him your unlocked phone and watched as he typed in his phone number.

“There you go,” He slides your phone across the table. “Thank you.”

You locked your phone without checking the screen beforehand and nodded. “It’s no problem, Eren. I’ll have them to you by tonight.”

Eren beamed and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to stop smiling. “See you next week at the game?”

You drew in a sharp breath. “Yes! I’ll be there. It starts at 7, right?”

He nodded and stood from the chair. “On the dot. See you there.”

You stared out the window with warm cheeks as he left. Scrambling to pick up your phone, you open it to see Eren’s contact.

Ren :)

Your heartbeat increased when you saw the photo of his face on the contact. He must’ve taken it while you were clicking around on your laptop to locate the class notes.

Oh yeah, this was going to be an issue.

Plan #2 = A Success

You texted Eren later that night with the notes from class attached. He swore he stopped breathing when he saw the unknown number on his phone screen.

“What’s up, Eren?” Reiner asked when he saw his friend in a state of shock.

Eren whipped his head towards him. “Oh, sorry, nothing.”

Porco squinted at Eren from behind his glasses, a small smirk growing on his lips.

“You need new glasses or something, Galliard?” Eren snapped. The boys around him started whooping and shaking his shoulders when they heard his attitude. “Get off me.”

“Love troubles, Eren?” Pieck joked, complaining when Sasha pinched her bicep, but then her eyebrows flew up when she realised she was right. “Who is she?”

Jean, Connie, and Armin sat silently on the couch, Sasha, Pieck, and Mikasa on Jean’s bed while the boys prodded Eren for answers. He was becoming more snappy than before, so they knew they’d hit a soft spot.

However, Ymir noticed that the three most talkative weren’t talking. “You know,” She threw an accusatory finger at the boys on the couch and then at Sasha. The room went silent as everyone watched the interaction.

“We know nothing,” Connie said, shrugging his shoulders.

But, then he winked. Fucking Connie.

The room went loud with shouting and laughter, and Eren knew he’d have to tell them eventually.

“Fine! Calm the fuck down and listen because I’m only telling you once.”

Ymir laid back on the giant beanbag with a shit-eating grin alongside Historia.

Eren stood in front of them all, wringing his fingers.

“Today, Jaeger,” Ymir rolled her eyes when Eren took a second too long, earning her and the others that snickered a glare.

“Okay, her name is Y/n, and she’s in my finance class, okay? I’ve tried talking to her too many fucking times, and I’m hopeless. So there, are you happy now?”

Uproar.

Eren had boys shaking his shoulders with words of encouragement while the girls laughed and teased him for his crush.

“You should give her your jersey for next week’s game!” Armin suggested.

The room fell quiet.

“Arlert, you are a genius!” Connie yelled, and Mikasa and Sasha ran out of the room to get Eren’s spare jersey from his dorm.

But, Eren was stuck in a whirlwind of things to say, things not to say, ways of giving you the jersey, how to text you, how not to. Even though it was an overload of information, he was sure he had a sound method of getting the jersey to you.

—

Over the course of the next week, Eren and you had been texting non-stop. A random text from you on Friday night about which diner in town was the best for ice cream sundaes had sparked a debate over what flavour ice cream sundae was the best. He then messaged you a photo of a dog he saw on his morning run on Sunday.

Despite not seeing each other until Friday due to busy schedules, Eren felt he had known you forever, as cheesy as it was. You agreed and disagreed on the same things except for the ice cream sundae dilemma.

—

“Don’t fuck this up or all of our hard work would’ve been for nothing,” Jean mumbled in Eren’s ear 3 hours before the game. Both of them were already in their game day suits, Eren with his black coffee and Jean with his new pair of Jordans.

“Gee, thanks for the words of encouragement, horsey.”

Eren had texted you half an hour before to meet him at the coffee shop, hoping you could make it. You responded immediately, accepting. Oh, how his skin tingled and the nauseous feeling in his stomach settled at the sight of the little ‘x’ at the end of the message.

This plan may be the best one yet.

Jean left Eren alone at the coffee shop to make his way down to the basketball court, saluting him as he walked off. Eren shook his head and rolled his lips between his teeth. It was now or never.

“Eren!” You called from across the grass, waving at him. He swore the smile on his face couldn’t get any bigger, but when it came to you, he didn’t know what was possible.

“Hey, how are you?” He asked, a grin playing on his lips. You laughed until you stopped in front of him.

“I’m great now. Are you excited for the game?” You questioned, lacing your fingers in front of your body.

Eren nodded before he realised why he asked you to meet. “I, uh, actually wanted to ask if you wanted to wear my jersey tonight, to the game? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but I just thought I’d ask anyway–”

“Of course, I’d love to,” You said shyly. Eren sighed in relief as he passed you the black material.

You giggled as you unravelled the jersey, admiring the ‘Jaeger/4’ on the back. Your heart leapt in your chest and your stomach was full of butterflies. You let out a little noise of happiness and peered at Eren.

He watched you with such adoration, it shocked you at first, but then the feeling of his eyes looking at you so intensely was something you wanted for the rest of your life.

“I—”

“God, you don’t know what you do to me,” Eren blurted. He’d never felt so vulnerable and embarrassed, but those lovely eyes of yours assured him that whatever he was feeling was okay. “Sorry.”

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline. You weren’t expecting that.

“Don’t be sorry, Eren,” You said softly, your voice void of any indication you were making fun of him. “The feeling’s mutual. I was actually going to tell you that I can’t stop thinking about you before you interrupted me.”

“Really?” He laughed in disbelief—he never thought he’d meet someone like you who’d want him back. His friends were right.

You nodded, playing with the collar of the Jaeger jersey in your arms. You smiled and felt your cheeks get warm. “Now, go. I don’t want to get in trouble for keeping you from warm-ups, you’ve got a game to win.”

Eren brought his fist up to his ear before he pointed at you and stepped backwards. “I’ll look for you in the stands, okay?”

You giggled and nodded. “Score a point for me, Ren?"

“I’ll score multiple for you. And maybe I’ll buy you an ice cream sundae after the game.”

You gasped, and your smile grew impossibly larger, your cheeks hurting from grinning and the cold.

“Chocolate and banana?” You call after him.

“You bet! I’ll even get you extra M&Ms.”

And once he was a fair distance away, you spun around, screwed your eyes shut, and laughed excitedly.

Plan #3 = The Winner

#this was taken from my other account but i rewrote it for eren #eren jaeger #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager imagines #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager x you #eren x you #eren x reader

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wing-ed-thing · 6 months

Text

Marriage Pact (Erwin x Reader) Part II

Synopsis: To the surprise of the cadets, Commander Erwin is married to more than just his work. Their curiosity brings up fond memories of your and Erwin’s early days in the scouts.

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags/Warnings: Language, No Reader Pronouns, Fluff, Marriage Pacts, 104th Cadet Corps Shenanigans

Part I Part II Part III

Notes: It's heeeeeeeeeereeeeeeee

He woke you up the morning of your expedition before the sun rose, gently shaking you awake where you had slouched over. It took a few blinks to remember where you were and the night of drinking, games, and stories you orchestrated the night prior. You sat up with a yawn, back cracking in the multiple places where your makeshift mat of seat cushions hadn’t been kind to you. Erwin knelt on one knee in front of you, his frame outlined in the dark blue hue of the early sky that trickled in through the tall windows. He spoke softly about getting everyone up to prepare to head out.

Hange remained curled up in your lap with their arms wrapped around your leg.

Erwin’s cloak draped over your shoulders and enveloped your form. You wouldn’t even remember you were wearing it until you stopped by your quarters to change into your full uniform. Unable to catch him in the chaos of the expedition prep, you left it hanging up near his horse.

He hadn’t even asked for it back, nor did he bring up your agreement from the night before.

***

“Like… the captain in the Garrison?” Eren chewed his bread thoughtfully, betraying an otherwise bored expression. Jean leaned forward to gauge everyone's expressions around the table. His face fell as everyone seemed to busy themselves with their mundane meals. Jean’s brows knitted together as a severe pout tugged at his lips.

“Yeah…?” He glanced at Eren, who didn’t meet his eye, before surveying the table again. He repeated your rank and name, stressing each syllable. Jean waved a palm in the air. “Hello? I thought you guys would be more invested in this.” A wave of silent hums and acute cringes spread throughout the gathered cadets. Jean sputtered, throwing his hands up in disbelief. “What?”

“I mean…” Armin started, staring off into the grains of the wooden table. “It makes some professional sense.”

“Armin—”

“Really, Armin?”

“Stop.”

The few low hisses circling around the table made Armin bow back toward his meal. Jean blinked, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming.

“What is with you guys?” Jean exclaimed, slapping away Sasha’s hand, which was slowly creeping onto his plate. His mouth opened and closed as a croaking sound stalled in his throat. While everyone ate as usual, Bertholdt was unfortunate enough to meet Jean’s crazed expression. He gulped, quickly shoving a spoonful of stew in his mouth. “Really, Bertholdt?”

“Jean,” Reiner swiveled in his seat with a roll of his eyes and a heave of his shoulders. He breathed out a sigh, letting his spoon hit his plate. Reiner hand waved once assertively in the air in front of Jean’s face. “It’s just not believable.”

“The commander’s initials were literally on the bouquet.”

“No way is Erwin sending roses to a government office,” Eren interjected as if stating the obvious. He blew a few strands of his bangs away from his face, hardly looking at the rest of the group as he tried to play off his clearly piqued interest. “No way Erwin’s sending flowers at all.”

“Damn, Jean, get a grip,” Connie muttered, elbowing Jean in the side.

“Did I mention that his initials were on the card?” Jean swatted at Connie’s arm, the two briefly engaging in a battle of swats and slaps before Jean turned to the table with a determined fervor. He held one hand planted on Connie’s cheek, keeping himself out of range of Connie’s attempted slaps. “And they used to be section commanders together. There is quite literally a picture of them framed in the captain’s office.” He pointed confidently off in the vague direction of Garrison headquarters.

“There is?” Mikasa muttered, her forehead knitting together slightly as she cocked her head to the side. She pinched her chin between her fingers in thought. “Huh, I always just focused on the tea cart.”

“We all focus on the tea cart! And the snacks that are sometimes also there!” Reiner asserted, slapping the table, causing the dishes to clatter. He crossed his arms with a disappointed shake of his head. “Psh, everyone knows that. That’s why running paperwork to the Garrison is the best job you could get assigned. I’d fight a man to be able to sit in a cushy room drinking tea for an hour. It’s like getting a paid break to sit with a— a, uh—” He held his clenched fingers up to his lips as he searched for the word, nose scrunching. —“A wise tree.” Reiner’s hand opened emphatically to accent the phrase.

“I have fought a man for gopher duty!” Sasha barked, food still in her mouth. “And when I got there, I got extra sugar and that really expensive bruise ointment—”

— “Oh shit, really? That’s where you got that from?” Ymir blinked from the other end of the table. “That stuff is really nice.”

“And I got to keep it!”

Jean huffed, sitting straight to cross his arms with a stuck-up nose.

“Look at the shelf on the opposite side of the desk the next time you’re there because I guarantee you that ointment was paid for by a commander’s salary.” He struck a fist into his opposite hand. His determination to be right had hardly been extinguished.

“Let’s go now.”

Jean’s eyes snapped wide open.

“What?” The others were already beginning to stand. Jean’s gaze darted to each of them as everyone began to gather their jackets and pick up their plates. A decision had apparently been made silently and without him. “You want to break into Garrison headquarters?”

Eren paused, his uniform jacket slung over his shoulder. He offered Jean an absentminded shrug.

“It’s not breaking in. We’re scouting. Surveying, if you will.” He left Jean alone at the cafeteria table to turn in his dishes. Jean noticed after a beat, immediately scooping up his dishware to follow the group.

“You’re kidding! I thought everyone wasn’t interested!”

***

A priest came to the Survey Corps hospital the morning after the expedition. You gathered a bouquet of flowers from a shrub in the courtyard for Murray and sat in attendance as she and Owens were married right there in the hospital. Wrapped up in bandages with missing limbs and bleeding wounds, they tearfully exchanged vows before succumbing to their injuries. You sat with them as a witness to their union until they were pronounced dead.

Both of them served under your command, after all. You thought you owed it to them.

You would be given their death notices to sign off on a day later.

You updated Murray’s certificate to “Owens” and sat at your desk, staring at the twin pages before you. Murray’s last name had been carefully blotted out in your correction, leaving her new name slightly bumpy. There were three spaces at the bottom labeled in smaller writing: one for the medical examiner’s signature (if applicable), one for the section commander, and one for the commander. The notice was written on quality paper, and from a quick glance, you would have guessed that the page was for an award rather than a certificate of death.

A light tapping broke you from your thoughts. Erwin stood in your doorframe.

“Am I interrupting?”

You almost jumped, face rising from where it had rested against your palm. A single, intense palpitation shot through your chest at the sight of him. He was as neat and put-together as always, from his combed bangs to his crisp uniform. You shook your head, beckoning him into your office.

“Not at all.”

He walked across the room, a small stack of papers in his hand wrapped in a neat string.

“These are yours. They must’ve gotten mixed up.” You stood, staring at them with a quirk of your lip as you tried to hide your nervousness. You stared at the bundle of pages, doing nothing at all, before you decided to take them from his hand.

“Oh, I haven’t even looked at these yet. Here, I probably have yours.” You set the compilation down to immediately sift through a larger stack of paperwork in the shallow wooden bin to the side of your desk. You felt like your hands were shaking, but Erwin didn’t seem to hold the same anxiety as you. Lingering patiently, Erwin glanced around your office as you consulted your collection of work to do.

You wondered if he remembered your conversation from the night before the last expedition. Hell, if it weren’t for Erwin’s cloak, you wouldn’t have been able to decipher whether your agreement was a dream. A part of you prayed that he hadn’t remembered— A marriage pact. What were you thinking?— but your instincts reluctantly told you that he not only remembered but could probably recall every word.

You spared a single glance toward him as you rifled through your pages. Erwin caught your eye, offering you a slight, closed-lipped smile and a pleased raise of his thick eyebrows. You averted your attention with a newfound nervousness.

You had no issue interacting with Erwin before. You were as close with him as you were with any other section commander and would have dared to consider him a friend. A good friend you’ve known for many years, he had your back on the battlefield and saved your life more times than you could count. He broke into that storage closet for your daft idea. That had to have meant something.

But he couldn’t have possibly been serious about your agreement. Of everyone you knew, Erwin sat near the bottom of the list of people you’d consider interested in marriage. Looking like he did, he had good chances of courting anyone he wanted. And yet, he agreed to marry you.

“They made it.”

“Hm?” You glanced up from your shuffling to follow Erwin’s gaze. He brushed the corner of one of the certificates, pulling it on the desk by the corner so that it sat at an angle. He cocked his head to read it better, then glanced back at you. “Oh.” You turned away as you continued your sifting. “Their injuries were terrible. They passed in the hospital yesterday—”

“But they made it.” Erwin never took his attention off you as he tapped Owens’ corrected name. Your heart twinged with guilt as you heaved a light sigh.

“I suppose they did,” you resigned, displacing a chunk of the pile on your desk chair. You blew at a strand of hair in your face before a realization hit you. Your lips formed a thin smile, and your forehead made the slightest wrinkle as you quirked your head to yourself, finally finding the files you were looking for. “I forgot I told you about that.”

“Forgot?”

You offered the bound pages across the width of your desk. The same colored string hung off them, the ends in a neat bow. Erwin’s bright blue irises held a certain seriousness in them.

“Things have just been… busy.” You didn’t know what else to say. Erwin glanced off to the side momentarily, tucking the stack of pages under his arm.

“I see,” he said with a nod. You stood awkwardly, the files you had displaced on your seat. “Thank you for looking for these. I’m glad we could get it sorted.” Erwin turned to walk casually back out to the hall, only stopping when you called out his name.

“Erwin?” He turned, thick brows raised in attention. He pivoted on your area rug, and once you had his attention, you didn’t quite know what to do with it. You leaned forward with a hand on your desk, letting the moment pass as you searched for words. “Um— did you want some tea?”

Erwin offered you a small, dimpled smile.

“I’ll have to pass. I need to get these done.” He held up his handful of papers. It was an answer that made sense for two section commanders such as yourselves. You were coworkers. Perhaps you were even coworkers before you were friends.

“Oh… yeah, of course,” you laughed nervously, watching the back of his head retreat into the hallway and down toward his office at the other end of the hall. You sank down to the floor in mortification.

Great, now you’ve made it awkward.

***

It was a week full of paperwork, and you were officially one expedition down out of three. Three. What an oddly specific number. Between expeditions one and two sat the Military Ball, which was less about celebrating service members as advertised and more about political schmoozing and securing funds for the three military branches.

The entire headquarters was in a scurry to prepare, the rush to get the paperwork done and aesthetics in order starkly contrasted to the usual bustle and priorities of the Scout Regiment. It was an odd time to attend. While the Garrison and Military Police continued their business inside the walls, the Survey Corps reeled from your most recent expedition just a week prior. But in typical fashion for the Scouts, the world moved on. Having signed off on the death certificates for your fallen squad members days ago, it was in your best interest to rest your sights on the future, even if that meant attending a celebration in the wake of tragedy.

You scurried up the steps, making last-minute tucks and adjustments to your dress uniform. Always the one left to tie up loose ends, you insisted that everyone else go on without you. Being called back to the office to finish tasks wasn’t out of the question. Erwin once told you that the last full batch of section commanders had been called out of the Military Ball in the first hour for missing reports.

You offered the greeting committee at the front a heartfelt salute, gesturing toward your credentials before they finally let you in. The ballroom was illuminated in a golden glow, highlighting the shiny, rich decor fitting for a grand venue in the Capital Mitras. You tried to hide your rushing, slowing your pace to offer polite smiles to the military personnel and politicians who lingered about enjoying their appetizers and complimentary aperitifs.

Hange had made their way deep into the room, their voice ringing out over the sea of chatter. From what you could tell, they had gathered quite a crowd of wealthy nobles excited to hear harrowing tales about the titans. They certainly chose the wrong soldier to prod about titan information. Not only would they be engaged in conversation for the entire night, but you wouldn’t be surprised if someone grew physically ill based on the level of detail Hange decided to spout. You pushed on, swiping a bubbling drink off a service tray and a small hors d'oeuvre off another as you scanned the bustling ballroom.

It wasn’t hard to find Erwin. He stood tall next to a cocktail table outlined in a thick, white cloth. With a cocktail flute in one hand, he struggled at the knot in his bolo tie.

“I see they're letting just anybody in here.” Erwin’s pretty blue irises flickered up as you approached, your snack quickly disappearing past your lips.

“Same could go for you. Is that a non-standard issue No. 20 brown belt I see?”

“Oh, shut up!” You hurried over, giddy like a schoolchild afraid of getting scolded by the headmaster. “Mine broke on expedition. I was hoping no one would notice.” You shook your head before placing your drink down on the table and wiping your fingers with your cocktail napkin.

“You wore your dress uniform belt on expedition?” Erwin’s hands immediately fell away as you stepped forward to work at the tight knot the leather strings had been contorted into. You bobbed your head from side to side.

“My straps have gone to shit. I really need to order new ones, I just haven’t gotten around to it.” You dug your nail at the tough bundle of leather before withdrawing for a moment in disdain. You cocked your head to the side, holding the bunch in your fingers. “What the hell did you do to this?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” The tightest portion of the knot loosened. Your shoulders drooped as you let out a short breath of relief before continuing to unravel the knot.

“I’m surprised they didn’t give you a hard time about credentials. I swear that one guy looked at me funny because my lapel wasn’t properly ironed.” The loop you were making steadily grew larger. With a few more strategic pulls, the center would open.

“I was holding it in my hand when we came in, if you’d believe it.” You could feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest.

“I’m sure Shadis was thrilled by that.” The knot came undone, and you tugged at it until the leather strings sat kinky but otherwise untangled across his collarbone. You took to adjusting the entire tie so that the ends sat orderly and symmetrically with the clasp neatly in the middle.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Erwin looped a finger through your thin belt, giving it a playful tug. You didn’t look away from your work for a second, all too aware of your close proximity. You avoided looking at his face as you stepped back, his bolo tie finally arranged at the center of his collar.

“You’re sure in high spirits tonight,” you mused with a roll of your eyes. “Looking for the bottom of that bottomless champagne?”

“I can’t say I’ve started such a challenge,” Erwin said with a bounce of his brows, a smile creeping onto his lips. He clasped his hands behind his back as he surveyed the room. You picked your drink back up, swirling it in the glass with a shrug of your shoulders and a dip of your lip. You stared out into the crowd along with him.

You were content to stand with him, watching as people mingled around the room in a sea of uniforms, gowns, and suits. The members of the Survey Corps were the easiest to spot. Members of your squads grouped together, claiming their own territories amongst the circular dining tables. The prideful sported their dress uniforms, but it appeared that most were content to shed the Wings of Freedom for a night in exchange for their best formal attire.

A part of you was relieved that the dress uniform was mandatory for all four section commanders. You hadn’t had anything too special in your closet anyway.

“Probably for the best. When things settle, I’m going to take a crack at Senator Montgomery.”

“Are you now?” Erwin quirked a brow as he continued to look out into the distance. A serving tray traveled by with champagne, and Erwin took one. “Eager for a few more expeditions?”

“He’s pretty agreeable after dinner,” you continued. You didn’t even hear him. “Not to mention that his children are fascinated with horses. I’ve been giving them lessons, and I take the youngest riding on the trail near the outskirts of Rose about once a month.” You took a sip of your bubbly, savoring the taste. Another group entered through the rich double doors. “It’s been our little arrangement for quite some time. I’m sure he won’t take much more convincing. Besides, I know you’re going for Edmonds.”

“You’re quite the detective.” Erwin offered a polite smile to a pair of politicians passing by before glancing back at you. “I expect no less from you. You’ve always been quite sharp when it comes to these things.”

“Please—” You shook your head, toying with the stem of your glass. —“Everyone knows Shadis wants you to bag the big one. Edmonds is tough, but you’re good with your words. I think you’ll have an in by the end of the night.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“You can play modest with Edmonds, but I know you better than to believe that.” You weren’t really thinking when you snorted, eyes trained on the familiar faces traveling across the ballroom. A small, sentimental smile played on your lips. You didn’t notice that either.

“Do you now?” You incidentally met his eye, and the simple act of doing so made your heart skip a beat. A light, curious glimmer glinted in his expression. You quickly glanced away, fiddling with your glass before bringing it to your lips. Erwin’s attention was still trained on you in your peripheral.

“We’ve served for a long time,” you resigned with a sigh. The nervousness you had never felt with Erwin before continued to constrict your chest. You tried not to let it show. Erwin seemed to let the matter go, turning his attention forward again to your relief.

“That we have…”

“Erwin? Erwin! AHH!” A woman’s voice carried over the crowd. A puff of strawberry blonde hair peaked out over the top of the bustling throng along with a single, dainty pale hand. You could see glimpses of her periodically jumped on her low flats to catch a glimpse of Erwin as she gradually made her way through the horde of people. “Excuse us. Sorry. Excuse us!”

It didn’t take long for her to break through, and to your surprise, she tugged Nile Dok in tow. She was a beautiful woman with long, curly hair, the color of which complimented her deep mustard-colored gown. The fabric draped elegantly over her rounded stomach and her shoulders were decorated in light tulle. She dropped Nile’s sleeve as she stood in front of you and Erwin, stretching her arms out with a gleeful smile. Erwin graciously greeted her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck in a deep hug. She just about squeezed the air out of him.

“Erwin! Look at you! It’s been too long!”

“Careful,” Nile warned apprehensively but did little to get involved.

At a loss for what to do, you made eye contact with the ever-serious Nile Dok, offering him a salute and a polite greeting.

“It’s good to see you, Captain Dok. You’re looking well.”

“The same could be said for you, Section Commander.” He nodded cordially. Your attention snapped back to Erwin at the sound of your name.

“I’d like to introduce you to my good friend, Marie Dok. You’re acquainted with her husband, Nile Dok.” He gestured toward the woman before you. “Marie, this is my colleague—” The way he spoke your name sounded like an afterthought, but Marie paid no mind. She smiled at you, holding open her arms again to pull you into a warm hug.

“Oh—” You reciprocated her gesture when the momentary shock wore off.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Section Commander,” she oozed before pulling away. She smelled subtly of fresh flowers.

“Please, no need to be so formal,” you insisted with a light laugh.

“The two of you are going to eat with us, aren’t you? We have more than enough room at our table,” Marie pressed on. She turned in search of Nile’s approval while you glanced toward Erwin. Nile spared a knowing look toward Marie and a sigh before joining yours and Erwin’s silent conversation. Not being a fan of the mental exchanges being had without her, Marie couldn’t help the pout that found her lips. “I know the three of you have to make the rounds, but at least come to our table for dinner. Just the dinner part.” She playfully nudged Nile’s arm before taking it in her own. “If the senators and commanders get to talk shop with you all night, I think I deserve at least some of your time.”

“I couldn’t intrude,” you attempted to politely decline. Marie continued to pout.

“Please—” She huffed with a certain informality refreshing in comparison to the setting. It almost made you laugh. “Military folk are so hard to pin down these days. Besides, any friend of Erwin’s is a friend of mine!”

You finally relented, head stuck on that word “friend.”

***

Dinner that night was by no means cheap. Not only were the attendees given a choice of several dietary selections for the main course, but among the spread were prime cuts of beef, whole fowl, sides of decadent potatoes with gravy, and a mix of fresh greens unlike anything most Scout Regiment soldiers had ever seen.

You tried to savor your meal, but more than half your plate was gone before you could blink. Glancing around, you were willing to bet that most Scouts had just about scarfed their portions down with gusto. The fresh, high-quality food was in stark contrast to your usual rations of bread and meat scraps, after all. Marie ate just as much as any soldier, using her clearly pregnant appearance to persuade the waitstaff to bring more food to the table.

Two other military police officers joined you with their spouses, who wore high-quality formal attire. You had seen the officer’s faces around at some time or another— most certainly at last year’s Military Ball— but didn’t know them closely. Despite your unfamiliarity with most people at your table, everyone seemed well acquainted with Marie.

“Marie owns Mulligan’s. We met her as cadets way back when she was a server,” Erwin noted to you with a nostalgic nod. Even Nile’s serious demeanor melted some at the memory.

“Really?” Your face lit up in recognition. A hotspot for military personel, the pub had been taken over by Military Police types in recent years. But even so, you held some fond memories of the place. Marie offered a humble nod. “You have a killer ale. What a small world.” “Feels smaller every day,” Marie sighed with a smile.

With dinner over, the chatter and mingling started up again. And just like in years past, officers and public figures alike began to drift from their tables in favor of chatting up the people they had intended to persuade since the beginning of the night.

Erwin drifted, eager to bag a promising opportunity for the Scouts as Shadis’s most charming section commander. Someone came to talk shop with Nile the next instant, and soon, you were left at the table alone with Marie.

“It’s that time, isn’t it?” she mused knowingly. You offered her a sheepish and reluctant quirk of your lip as you stood from your chair.

“Unfortunately,” you said, straightening out your uniform. You glanced at Senator Montgomery out of your peripheral before returning to Marie. “Thank you for inviting me to your table. It was nice meeting you.” You offered her your hand, but she didn’t take it.

Instead, Marie propped her elbow on the table, resting her cheek against her palm as she looked you over. The action lacked malice or severe judgment as she collected information to fuel her following words. Her lips parted with purpose.

“The two of you make quite the couple,” was all she said.

You were taken aback as you thought about what she was saying. Your brow furrowed, along with a slight curl to your bottom lip. Marie tilted her chin downward with a slight arch to her light eyebrows as if to say what she implied was obvious.

“I— um— we’re, uh…” The more you grasped for words, the harder it was to find them. You sighed, letting your chest deflate as you collected yourself. “We’re colleagues. The time we’ve served allows us to work well in a professional setting, as is the usual relationship between section commanders.”

Colleagues. That’s what Erwin had introduced you as.

“I see,” she hummed, staring off in another direction. You stood in front of your pushed-in chair, silently following her line of sight into the bustling ballroom. It was too crowded to make out what she was so fixated on. “You know, I’ve always subscribed to the phrase, ‘you can’t be a little bit pregnant!’”

Marie let out a boisterous laugh as she stood out of her chair. You swiftly stepped over to help her as she cradled her rounded stomach with her left arm. She accepted your help but ultimately didn’t require much support.

“Whoo!” Marie stretched a bit as she found her bearings. Her hands quickly found yours, giving you two firm taps to the back of your wrist. “I won’t keep you any longer. But if you see Nile milling around, would you do me a favor and send him back to me?”

You agreed, trying to center your thoughts on Senator Montgomery.

***

The deal was wrapped up in a snap. If anything, you considered that you included too much preamble before getting to the meat of your proposal. Senator Montgomery snapped it up without much further negotiation. He had always been very fond of you, so much so that you likely could have brought the issue up at the start of your lengthy conversation.

Senator Montgomery was a talker, and after he expressed his dedication to your proposal, you were swiftly whisked into a detailed conversation about his children. You were acquainted with all three of them, and the question took a sharp turn from politics to which one of his children was making the swiftest progress in their riding lessons?

Having his children be trained by such a high-ranking officer in the Scouts was apparently quite the point of pride for the senator. For the rest of the night, he referred to you as a close family friend to other elite residents of Wall Sina. The senator made sure to gesture to your credentials as he did so.

If that meant his continued support of the Scouts, the senator could call you anything he pleased.

By the time you could excuse yourself, the festivities were already winding down. Dessert was already half-gone. You took another champagne flute to disappear onto the balcony with.

You leaned against the white stone railing, breathing deeply before exhaling a steady stream of hot air. You took a sip of your drink, staring off at the lights of the city. Even at night, Sina was littered with warm streetlamps that grew less in number as the distance ran on. A dark sheet of night existed past the sloping city. The stars that littered the horizon marked where the wall stopped in its reach toward the sky.

“Need a breather? How was Montgomery?”

Erwin took his place next to you, leaning on his elbows to mirror your posture. You hadn’t even heard him approach. He scooted a little plate across the stone surface. The two dessert pastries wobbled, knocking against each other. He offered you a dessert fork, and you weren’t about to deny him.

You met his gaze, letting the exhaustion on your face show for the first time that night. Another labored breath vibrated the skin of your lips and you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head. The tips of your four fingers met your thumb, snapping your hand open and closed to mimic the loudmouthed chatter you endured. Erwin’s shoulders jumped— his version of a snort.

“That good, huh?”

“I mean, we have a deal, but damn—” You glanced behind you to ensure that you were truly alone. Erwin instinctually swiveled his head with you. —“I hope the Montgomerys aren’t planning to have more children.” Erwin hummed a chuckle, digging his fork into the dessert. A sheepish smile found your lips as you couldn’t help but chuckle along with him. “What about you? How was Edmonds?”

Erwin’s fork action halted, and you laughed as he rubbed at his temples.

“We have a meeting first thing Monday morning,” he breathed after a few moments of carefully choosing his words. You continued chipping away at your dessert. “Edmonds is a very thorough man.” Erwin shook his head, dismissing the rest of his words.

“It was a full interrogation, huh?” you mused before taking another bite.

“Mh-mhm.” Erwin placed his fork on the little plate, savoring the last of his pastry. He turned to lean his back against the railing you continued to rest on. His arms coiled over his chest. He continued to chew; he had wide chews. “By the way—” You didn’t know someone’s jaw could move like that with their mouth still closed, but that was none of your business. —“Sorry about Marie. She can get a bit excitable sometimes.”

“Not at all. Dinner was nice. And Marie seems nice…” You set your fork down as you continued to stare out at Sina. You paused, hesitating for a moment. “She seems a bit—”

“Different compared to Nile?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you let the moment pass. You traced the wall's outline in the distance, trying to keep track of how many stars hovered above the black mass. Erwin kept his sights on the ballroom, which cast a golden glow onto the balcony, stopping just short of the two of you. People were starting to trickle out, having had their fill. A decent portion of the attendees continued to chatter. The waitstaff were beginning to take away the dessert table.

“We used to spend a lot of time together years ago,” Erwin continued out of the silence. You didn’t know how to respond. He continued again. “I think she just wants to remember how things were when we’re together like this. We don’t keep in touch, so she gets a bit overinvolved to make up for lost time.”

“That makes sense.”

You wanted to ask him. You wanted him to connect the dots for you so you could have another clue in deciphering what exactly the two of you were. But you held your tongue, and the night continued like all the previous Military Balls. You decided you didn’t need to ask him if Marie Dok was the woman he wanted to marry all those years ago. You already knew.

***

“Is this, like, illegal?”

“Shut up.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Hurry, please.”

“You try picking a lock in the dark.”

“Move aside and let me try.”

“I got it,” Ymir gritted in the darkness. “Go fuck off over there and keep watch.” She pressed her ear to the door, feeling around the lock with her picks before finally hearing a satisfying click from the latch. With a single tug of the handle, the door quietly swung open. The former members of the 104th Cadet Corps filed into your office, quietly taking in the sights in the moonlight trickling through the window.

“There it is,” Sasha whispered, practically foaming at the mouth as she immediately ran up to your tea cart. Connie, Christa, and Reiner followed on her heels, instantly picking up the teacups and other accoutrement on the top tray as the others scattered around the room. Mikasa closed the door behind her.

“The picture’s right here.” Jean gingerly opened the cabinet of memorabilia. The cabinet gave the same resistance as the day before, giving way to reveal the items inside. Sure enough, the framed drawing sat in the same place next to your old Scout cloak. Those less interested in the tea cart gathered around as Jean took it in his hands.

“I have never heard of a branch transfer,” Mikasa remarked, taking the ends of the cloak in her hands. The fabric felt stiff between her fingertips.

“Maybe you have to transfer if your husband gets promoted to commander of your branch.” Jean rubbed his thumb over the glass where you and Erwin were depicted. The scene was a large outdoor fire where you and your old squadmates were illustrated in an artistic and detailed outline. You and Erwin sat to the right of the frame, smiling and talking. Yes, the figures were undoubtably the two of you. Jean passed the picture on in favor of looking for more evidence.

“Why would someone give up the title of section commander to work for the Garrison?” Eren muttered a bit too seriously. Jean had to stop to blink a few times. He was kidding, right?

Jean continued his search, but you didn’t have much memorabilia from the early days. Besides the picture and your cloak, all that remained was your patch with your last expedition number and a few fancy documents littered with formal signatures.

Something bounced to the floor in Jean’s peripheral. He bent down to retrieve it, leaving the doors of the cabinet ajar. Eren turned the frame over in his hand, inspecting the back of it before also leaning down. Jean clutched the squishy little knot in his hand just moments before his head collided with Eren’s. They both recoiled, only for Eren to knock his head again against the bottom of the cabinet, which had swung open. Slamming his head in the same spot, the picture frame went crashing to the ground.

“Fuck! Dammit, Yeager!”

Glass scattered across the floor, and everyone’s attention simultaneously shot toward the sound. The room froze. Jean gaped at the mess on the wood floor, slowly moving to make eye contact with Eren. But before either of them could say a word, the door to your office creaked open, and the light flickered on, illuminating the dark room.

You stood in the doorway, out of uniform and with a stack of files under your arm. You glanced across your office, forehead knitted as you processed the collective presence of the ten wide-eyed Survey Corps members.

“What are you all doing here?”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I love writing baby Reiner, I always give him the most banger lines. There will be a part III, which will hopefully be the final part. I just had a lot to set up and write and it wasn't logistically possible to fit it all in this part. If it doesn't fit in part III, I plan on dutifully writing a part IV.

For those who don't know, the phrase "you can't be a little bit pregnant" refers to dedicating all or nothing to a situation since the status of being pregnant is either that you are or that you aren't.

Notes: I’m happy to add people to the tag list, but requesting to be added without interacting with any part of this series outside of your tag request will result in a swift block

Part I Part II Part III

@goddessinsweats

#erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #commander erwin #erwin #erwin smith #aot erwin #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #x reader #x you #reader insert #x y/n #fic: marriage pact #attack on titan

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fizzigigsimmer · 7 months

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Moonwood Part 2

A little belated birthday gift for @adelacreations. 💗

Thank you to everyone who shared their love for part one of this. I tried to link those who asked.

Lunch is eye opening for Steve. He doesn’t look for Billy exactly… Okay he totally looks around to see if he can spot Billy at any of the lunch tables or standing in the queue to get hot lunch, but only because he’s actively trying to avoid the trouble he is 100% certain Billy means to bring to his doorstep. But he doesn’t see Billy anywhere and even if that settles his nerves a little, he’s kinda disappointed too. Like there’s a part of him that already feels drawn to Billy in some way - it itches in the back of his mind like a half formed memory. Only instead of ‘now where did I put those keys’ it’s, ‘now where is Billy?’

He tells himself he’s being way extra, because he is, and tries to put Billy out of his mind. After they shuffle through the line Tim starts to head towards an empty table and Steve hesitates - not wanting to be one of the only kids eating alone, with Tim. It’s just not a good look and he’s pretty sure he’s gonna get stuck talking about Star Wars or whatever the whole time.

“Hey Man, you uh-mind if I sit with some other people? I figure it might help me get to know folks since I’m new.” Steve tries to soften the blow, but the little frown that puckers the middle of Tim’s brow lets him know he hasn’t really succeeded. After agreeing where to meet up after the hour ends, Steve looks around for a table to join. About the second time his eyes sweep the room he realizes that he’s searching for a letterman’s jacket, but he tells himself it’s not for Billy. It’ll just be easier to talk shop with other jocks and maybe he’ll get lucky and find someone who is on the swim team.

But the first letterman’s jacket Steve sees is slung over the shoulders of a girl - only she’s not like any girl Steve has ever seen. She’s tall, and she’s stacked like she bench presses all the losers who have ever dared to hit on her before breakfast each morning; and she definitely eats all her Wheaties. And Steve knows girls are supposed to be soft and pixie sized or whatever, but he discovers a new kink that day because he really digs it. Would consider it an honor to suffocate between her muscular thighs or her full breasts.

And then weirdly, his mind goes back to Billy. He sort of gets why the path is there - Billy’s thighs were impressive and impossible to miss in those skin tight jeans - just not why his brain chooses to keep skipping down it to wonder what Billy’s chest looks like under his shirt, when he could be daydreaming about Sasha’s rack instead. That’s She-Ra’s name, Sasha.

Sasha is a little wary of Steve at first because she thinks he’s just there to hit on her and ruin her appetite by drooling over her boobs - which she actually has the balls to say to him before he’s even sat down. But when she hears that Steve is new it piques her interest. She’s kinda intense. Her stare gives Steve the impression she’d like to hoover his dick and make him cry uncle at the same time, which is hot fair enough, but a little unsettling. And she keeps peppering him with really invasive questions. Not just the expected where did you come from, but questions about his family.

“Wow Sasha you gonna put out for the whole family or what?” Some guy named Randy whom Sasha has been trying to wheedle into coming to some sort of gathering with her, jokes. And like a real asshole he looks right at Steve and goes, “I’d be careful with the moony girls if I were you Harrington. They’re easy but every one of them's got like six meathead cousins who will drag you out to the woods and eat your liver if they catch you sniffing around one of their girls.”

Steve’s surprised when Sasha laughs, big and toothy with this mesmerizing glint in her eye as she promises Randy they’d have to race her for the scraps. Steve realizes that this weird fluttery feeling in his stomach is fear. And his dick is hard because he’s an idiot.

The gathering Sasha is trying to convince Randy and some of the others at the table to come to is some sort of bonfire out in the woods that the Moonwood teens hold every few weeks or so. Apparently it gets wild. Lots of drinking and telling ghost stories around the campfire when they’re not hooking up somewhere. It kinda reminds Steve of the parties he and Tommy used to go to at the quarry, complete with the local ghost stories. Only instead of monsters in the lake, out here the forest is rampant with werewolves who eat unlucky campers.

Steve’s surprised to see how seriously the Schiller High kids take the local superstitions. Because from everything he observes Sasha is really popular with other students (especially the guys) and usually all she has to do to gather a crowd is name the time and place, but Randy and the others don’t want to be out in the woods on a full moon. It’s kinda hilarious.

“You’re so lame Randy. Has anything actually happened at a bonfire? Like ever?” Sasha pouts but Randy just shrugs and says there’s a first time for everything.

“Plus Billy’s still pissed at me for going out with Trish and I don’t feel like putting up with his bullshit while he’s high on moonshine.”

“Billy’s going to be there?” Steve asks like a lame before he can stop himself. Of course Mr. Popularity is gonna be there, he kicks himself at the same time that Randy sneers and rolls his eyes.

“Billy never misses a chance to walk on the wild side.” Sasha confirms with a smirk. “You should come too Steve, everyone who's anyone will be there. I bet you’ll meet a lot of people. That is if it’s not too far of a trip.”

“It’s not too far. I live there, actually. In Moonwood.” Steve reveals and it’s like he dropped a bomb on the table. The other kids are looking at him now like he’s done something either incredibly brave or stupid and they’re not sure which one it is. All except for Sasha whose eyes almost seem to flash at him as her already intense scrutiny intensifies.

“Of course! That’s what that is, I should have known.” She exclaims a light bulb turning on, and before Steve can ask what ‘what’ is, she adds “You’re Bob and Irene’s grandson.”

“Yeah how did you -” Steve starts to ask but Sasha waves the question off like it’s a pesky fly and grabs Steve’s hand like they’re best friends in a teen movie.

“Gosh your wrists are so delicate, it feels like I could snap them like twigs.” She giggles at him. “Oh, I met your mom! How come she’s never brought you to any of the community gatherings?”

Thinking back, Steve remembers that his mom had made a few attempts to invite him out with them when she and his grandparents went out for the night. They didn’t do it a ton, but when he did he always presumed they were doing something old and boring like pottery or chips and bingo.

“Uh, because I’m eighteen and bingo night with my mom and my grandparents isn’t exactly what I’d call a good time?”

That gets him a laugh from everyone but not for the reason he expected. Turns out Moonwood community “events” are well known in the area. While Steve was hanging out on the beach and camping with tourists, his neighbors were mixing moonshine, rolling joints, and dancing naked to bongo drums and other hippie shit.

“He wasn’t fully naked.” Sasha insists with a glint in her eye that makes Steve think she’s lying. “Randy was so high at the time he couldn’t uncross his eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I’m telling you Steve, this man went running into the trees buck-ass-naked. It was the craziest shit I ever saw!”

Everyone laughs and ribs at Randy and Steve just soaks it in for a moment. He can almost pretend that he’s back at home and nothing in his life has changed. But then Sasha pins him with those eyes of hers again and tells him he should come to the bonfire.

“Don’t let these tiny boys scare you Harrington, you’re made of stronger stuff. The worst thing that’s gonna be out in those woods is us.”

Sasha winks at him and that makes Steve chuckle. He likes her, he decides. She reminds him of Carol, if Carol were built like an Olympic athlete and had teeth big and white enough to do toothpaste ads.

What the hell, why not. It’ll pay off to be on good terms with the popular kids and maybe he can get ahead of the whole Billy situation before it becomes an issue if Sasha puts in a good word for him. As for the fear that the full moon will bring out the werewolves, that it might be dangerous to be out in the woods at night? Steve never takes it seriously for a moment.

|Part Three >>|

@darleenjade @sweetwaterangel @dragonflylady77 @natchula @tip-tap-tired @sparklingsprinkles

#harringrove #harringrove fic #werewolf au #teenwolf adjecent #part 2 0f 6 #could be longer we will see #Billy Hargrove is a werewolf #Steve Harrington is half a werewolf #size difference #I just love the thought of Billy and the rest of the pack being huge and calling Steve little pet names #He HATES it but he loves it #moonwood

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wingedmilkshakewolf · 10 days

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👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦

Shakira gửi lời tin nhắn chia tay gerard pique gửi lời tin nhắn chia tay shakira hai người bỏ đi hai con trai shakira hai con trai gerard pique hai con trai biết shakira gerard pique chia tay người yêu cũ hai con trai biết shakira gerard pique có người yêu bạn gái rồi gerard pique có người yêu đàm cười kết hôn bạn gái rồi gerard pique có người yêu bạn gái có bầu gerard pique có người yêu bạn gái đẻ em bé ra chào đợi bạn gái bảo gerard pique gửi lời chia tay shakira bỏ đi rồi shakira gửi lời chia tay gerard pique bỏ đi người yêu bạn gái mời rồi hai người chia tay rồi 💔💔💔💔💔

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magicxc · 3 months

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Aunt Flo

Pairings: Survey Corps x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1052

Warnings: none

A/N: Because most of us have a very intimate experience with periods, it��s come to be a normal part of our lives; and in a sense something we’ve become desensitized to. The mood swings, the cramps, the pain, the heavy flows, the birth controls we take to stop it, etc. The list literally goes on. But disassociate, if you can, a life without periods and tell me really, which guy you’d be like if your partner had them.

Eren - lowkey disgusted, but holds it together for your sake and gets better over time.

Eren vocally gagged the first time he saw your stained underwear. He’s no stranger to blood but he’s found it quite tricky to wrap his head around vaginal bleeding. He’s patting you on your back with a broom in hopes that you’ll feel better because he’s just not that far on the emotional intelligence scale yet. But as time goes on, the more he gets used to the idea of it and while he’s still a bit iffy, he’s nowhere near as repulsed as he once was.

Levi - the clean freak is not having it.

While he is an adult about the situation his efforts to ensure you, a heavy bleeder, doesn't stain anything can very easily cross over from comforting to annoying. In the beginning he’s lining your side of the bed with absorbent pads; like the ones you train your pets to pee on. But not just for sleep, you must use them for sitting as well. His hydrogen peroxide has since tripled considering he washes all the clothes for you both. But your last straw was him suggesting you wear a tampon with your pad. Levi had the physical part of things down packed. It was his sensitivity he needed training on. In time though, he becomes more considerate.

Erwin - understands that it's normal and is very neutral to it all.

He isn’t rolling out the wagon with any treats or anything because it's human nature. It is literally another day for Erwin. To say he doesn’t care is an exaggeration and a bit unfair. He does care about your wellbeing, but he doesn't really view periods as a sickness or hindrance because, well, he is a realist and doesn’t think too much of it since, once again, it’s natural. So long as you’re not in any physical pain, he’s fucking off to work somewhere. The most you’ll get out of him is herbal tea and extra forehead kisses; a back massage if you’re lucky.

Connie - The learner; literally tell him everything there is to know.

The first time Connie saw you stain the sheets from your vag of all places, he thought you were dying. He was literally two thirds of the numbers in from dialing 911 when he woke up to such a scene. That was top three funniest reasons you ever woke up laughing, and on your period no less. Even though he’s unfamiliar about most things aunt flo, teaching him has been an absolute joy because he’s genuinely interested and keeps you cackling. You’ve taught Connie the ins and outs alongside your personal preferences for such a time. And with his piquing interest eventually the grasshopper became the master; oftentimes pre-empting your visit before you get the chance to - and accurately at that.

Jean - another neutral one who doesn’t too much care for the occasion.

Jean carries on as usual in his daily activities. Periods don’t bother him and he understands that the only effective way he can help is gonna be followed by 18 years of child care. Therefore he lets you keep to yourself and tries his best to stay out the way to avoid making you any crankier. It isn't until he overhears Sasha and Mikasa talk about what a perfect period would look like for them does he get a light bulb moment to interfere a little. Jean still leaves you be for the most part, and he's still off doing whatever it is that he does, but he has made an effort to shower you in a few comfort items when the time comes.

Onyankopon - the know it all.

While you are grateful for such an intelligent man, you’ve come to dread the month for two reasons now. Ony, for whatever reason, actually knows more about the topic than you do, treating each month as a biology lesson on why the uterus sheds its lining “every 23-35 days” and the benefits behind it. That big beautiful brain of his is something that you wholeheartedly adore, but just not during aunt flo. In fact, it’s you who evades him. Eventually he comes to understand that it may not be the most appropriate time for in depth learning, but still comes prepared with a fun fact or two.

Reiner - moral support is the best he can offer you at this time.

Reiner just about doubles over at the idea of blood shed, even if this one is quote on quote natural for you. He doesn't find it disgusting but after all the fighting he’s done, he simply cannot take it. That, coupled with the idea that it brings you pelvic pain, tender breasts, and ongoing headaches? The man is practically in agony right alongside you; bedridden and anxious. He may prove useless for the time being, but he tends to shower you with gifts and good loving afterwards to make up for his squeamish ways.

Armin - he is the boyfriend these bitches can only dream of having.

Armin literally tracks your period so that he can know exactly when to expect aunt flo. He’ll have movies, hot compresses, and snacks on standby. In fact he installed a shelf in the bedroom, chocked full of goodies and essentials you’re bound to need for that time of the month. You want a massage? Hot oils are on the lower left. You forgot to restock your pads, he’s got an emergency pack all the way to the bottom. Cramps are killing you? Middle right is where you’ll find a selection of pain meds to choose from depending on the level of aching you’re currently experiencing. He is the definition of prepared and is willing to wait on you hand and foot.

Floch - the complainer.

You have cramps and can't be touched? Suddenly you no longer love him. Sex is a no go for you at this time? Maybe he’ll just combust of blue balls instead. Cravings on an all time high? Well you ate his snacks too. The saying that men catch their pregnant wives' symptoms rings all the more true for Floch during your periods. He gets just as cranky, hungry, and even once complained of tender joints. Its safe to say you want to slap him most months.

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #AOT #snk #eren yeager #levi x reader #commander erwin #connie springer #aot jean #aot onyankopon #reiner braun #armin x black reader #snk floch

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pumpkinhrat · 10 months

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(Sorry to keep fic dumping in ur asks but this au has me feral :P)

Jonathan Sims is not a ‘dating app’ sort of man. Except for the fact that, yes, apparently, he is. There’s something deeply fascinating, he’s learning, about being able to click through people’s lives in a matter of minutes. To have their personal values and oddities laid out on a platter for him to pick through. For some inexplicable reason, people are willing to put their entire lives on an app if it has a chance to find them a partner. Or get them laid, if Tim is to be believed. That particular aspect, of course, is largely unappealing, but Jon has to admit that being able to thoroughly vet each person he talks to is incredibly enticing.

After leaving work (at 5 o’clock sharp, he may add, since his assistants never allow him to stay any later these days) and returning home, Jon is only able to resist the allure of his newly installed app for half an hour. He barely manages to make himself a cuppa (slightly underbrewed and thoroughly over-sugared) before he collapses on his grandmother’s old couch and swipes open his phone. At work, he’d only allowed himself a few minutes to peruse the profiles that Tim and Sasha had handpicked for him. Some of them had been insultingly bland – bureaucrats and financiers and the ilk – which is borderline offensive. He knows he was a bit uptight those first few years but good lord.

The one profile he keeps circling back to, even now curled up alone on his couch, is Martin’s. When Sasha had told him Martin was Tim’s favorite, Jon had almost unmatched on that premise alone but Martin’s biography had caught his eye. Jon balances his tea in one hand as he scans the words for a third time.

‘Tea, poetry, and cows. Love those nights where there are twice as many stars as usual.’ Jon’s mouth ticks up against his will again but he doesn’t try to tamp down on it now that he’s in the privacy of his own home. A poetry reference is enough to pique his interest, he can admit to himself (even if he thinks most contemporary writers’ language is typically far too flowery) and this quote in particular is eye-catching.

One of the many, many books Jon had consumed during his childhood had been a first edition of Laura Gilpin’s The Hocus-Pocus of the Universe. Each of the poems in that book had been short, simple, and utterly devastating. He’d spent many a late night under his covers with a flashlight, extrapolating endless meaning from 10 line poems. The Two-Headed Calf is a personal favorite. Something about how unearned tragedy is gently juxtaposed with naive wonder at simply living grabbed young Jon’s mind and has refused to let go. Objectively, he knows his connection to this particular poem likely has something to do with the sudden loss of his parents and the themes of hope and humanity in the face of grief that Gilpin’s work tends to address. That doesn’t stop him from tracing the words in Martin’s bio with an aching sort of fondness, though.

It’s probably unwise to connect a stranger and an emotionally charged poem from his childhood in his mind, but Jon can’t help it. He’s been… lonely since Georgie. Not that he’d ever admit that to Tim or Sasha. No, they’d be far too smug and far, far too concerned. And besides, it’s not as if he’s a child. It’s not as if he needs constant attention or affection. It’s quite the opposite in fact; Jon has always been a wildly independent individual. It’s just… Perhaps Georgie changed that part of him. Eroded the barriers he’s had up since his mother’s passing just enough for this– this feeling to seep in. He’d forgotten what it feels like to need someone. He hates the feeling and yet can’t help but curl into it like a lost child.

This is completely unadvisable. He is attaching– complicated emotions to a complete stranger because they happen to like a poem he read as a child. A swell of derisiveness rises in Jon’s chest and he firmly clicks his phone off. Tim and Sasha are a ridiculous pair who are always planning some stunt or another to get Jon ‘back out there’. It was absurd when Sasha had sent him to her cousin's flower shop with directions to ‘ask her what she thinks the most romantic flower in the world is’ and it’s absurd now. Utterly absurd and a definitive waste of his time. He should really just delete the app off of his phone and be done with the entire affair.

He turns on a documentary to drown out the twisting of his thoughts and sips at his lukewarm tea, grimacing at the taste. He really should stop trying to make tea for himself, it’s always a disappointment compared to what he’s used to at work. Speaking of… Jon reaches for his work bag and pulls out a few documents he’s been meaning to look into, settling them on the coffee table while the documentarian’s voice drones on smoothly in the background. He conveniently forgets to delete the app.

–

It’s been three days. Martin checks his phone no less than 10 times an hour. He catches himself staring at Jon’s open office door so often that he surreptitiously angles his chair so he’s not facing it anymore. His back hurts from twisting around.

Why did he think swiping right on his boss was a good idea?? Is he mad? It doesn’t matter if Jon Super Liked him first, it was probably a prank or a mistake or- or a really weird way to keep tabs on him. Jon has always been super intense like that. Because it’s not as if Jon’s actually interested in him. He hasn’t shown a single sign that he finds Martin any more intriguing than Tim or Sasha. He treats the three of them exactly the same – like friends.

It’s maddening.

When Martin had first returned to the office after swiping right, he’d barely been able to contain himself. He’d been giddy and sick with nerves and excitement at seeing Jon because surely he knows. Surely he knows now that Martin has been harboring a vicious crush for years and is finally acting on it. Or even if he doesn’t know all that, at least he knows Martin’s interested, that he’s an option as a romantic partner. It’s nauseating and elating and Martin couldn’t breathe when their eyes had first met that morning.

And then Jon had blithely handed him a statement to file and turned away without so much as a greeting. The adrenaline crash had nearly made his knees give out.

What was he thinking? It’s been three days of that now. Three days of delusional, hopeful anticipation followed by soul-crushing disappointment. It’s been exhausting and demoralizing and Martin really isn’t sure how much more he can take. He considered asking Tim for help but he thinks better of it when he remembers how Tim had teased when Martin had told him about his crush. No, it’s much better to deal with this on his own.

Tucking his phone under his desk, Martin opens up his notes app. A dozen half-formed opening lines shine back up at him. They range from completely corny to overly formal, battling between what Martin would normally open with and what he thinks Jon would like to see. He does avoid mentioning work or that they know each other in all of the messages, though. It seems best to follow Jon’s lead in that regard. A few of the ones he’s written directly mention the few things Jon had put in his bio, like the fact that he has a cat. Actually, that one may be a front runner…

“Watcha lookin’ at, Marto?” A voice booms from behind him and Martin jumps a half foot in the air.

“Christ, Tim!” Martin spins in his chair to face him, one hand plastered against his chest and the other clicking off his phone. “Warn a guy, would you? You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Tim chuckles and Sasha makes an amused snort from her desk. Martin sends her a betrayed look.

“He called your name, like, three times dude,” Sasha laughs at him.

“Yeah, I was worried you might be ignoring me there for a moment. What could I have done to deserve such treatment?” Tim clutches a dramatic hand over his heart and Martin can’t help but huff a laugh. He presses his phone face down on his leg.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just absorbed in something. What do you need?”

“Well, you know the Rodriguez statement?”

It’s not until three hours and six dusty files later that Martin finally gets back to his phone. It takes another 45 minutes and a lot more hemming and hawing, but eventually he settles on an opening line.

‘Hi Jon! I’m looking for a cat-dad.’ Then, after a few more minutes of debating, he adds on ‘You seem perfect for the job!’ …Then a winking kaomoji. And a heart.

Subtlety’s for cowards, anyway.

[start here] --- [previous part]

ANON, KEEP FIC DUMPING ME PLEASE It makes me so sooo happy I don't even have the words to describe it! And receiving it makes me want to get back to drawing and I'm really happy it makes your brain go a bit feral ksjhfkshfk

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING Your writing style is absolutely *chef's kiss*

UPDATE: You can read the whole story by JJanuaryRain on AO3! Go give them lots of love -> "all's fair in love & tinder"

#anon's tma!da au fic #tma!da au #subtlety's for cowards baby lesss gooo #i can see jon watching cunk on earth as his go-to background noise #tma fic #jmart #jonmartin #asks

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