#snk x reader
awkward things they did during sex ft. eren, armin, mikasa, connie, jean, sasha, levi, hange, erwin, reiner, annie, porco, pieck and zeke
♡ — tags/warnings: +18, humour, female!reader
♡ — a/n: all of them are +18, this whole post was based on a late night convo with @ofoceansandtombstones
♡ — masterlist
eren — you got your period in the middle of sex and he said ‘damn baby, all because of me?’
mikasa — learnt she was a squirter when she came all over your face in a semi-public setting
armin — came hard and accidentally got your eye. got desperate when you said it burnt.
connie — got the wrong hole and you couldn’t sit down for days.
jean — during your first time he got so nervous he couldn’t get it up for a good while.
sasha — burped while eating you out and blamed it on a huge meal she ate before
levi — thrusted too hard and knocked you off the bed onto the floor, making you hit your head and pass out.
hange — caused a small fire because they used candles to set the mood
erwin — said “call me dad” instead of “call me daddy”, ruined the whole mood and made you remember your father.
reiner — you caught him silently weeping after your first time together
annie — made you wait naked for a good fifteen minutes while she looked for her nail clippers
porco — during your first time together, he came the second he slid into you, blamed it on you for squeezing him too hard
pieck — fell asleep while you were eating her out and denied it when you shook her awake
zeke — you were giving him a handjob and he said “you’re so pretty... father always said to find a pretty girl”. you got dressed and left.
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emotional things said during sex (some snk folk edition)
tags: 18+, mini drabbles, gn!reader, some are angsty some are fluffy, i apologize for nothing
a/n: was listening to love songs and character songs and this came tumbling out my hands not too long after. sorry again for the abrupt disappearance, i explained it in my post before this one. i’m working on the event requests now that i’m in a safe space and have calmed down sufficiently. until they’re done, please take these hcs for now
eren: you were riding him when eren abruptly grunted “don’t forget me” you halted your ministrations in confusion, but eren picked up the slack and thrusted upwards into you. “promise me you won’t forget me” he clenched your hand tightly as you moaned. “promise” he kept whispering until you finally promised you wouldn’t. “promise me, no matter what”
levi: paused his thrusts and tenderly laid a hand atop your forehead before softly saying “i love you”. he kissed you softly afterwards, resuming a much slower pace than rougher pace you had both originally set. each of levi’s breaths in your ear felt like he was whispering those words to you again. it was the first time he had ever said it and you felt overwhelmed
mikasa: at the crest of her pleasure, writing underneath you and hips bucking as your fingers touched that spot over and over again. “please,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes tightly “don’t leave me. don’t ever leave. just stay” she pleaded like a prayer, her voice haggard and desperate. “stay” tears were welling in the corner of her eyes. “stay--” her pleas fell silent as she came, clenching you tightly
historia: you were eating historia out before you felt small hands tugging at your hair, gesturing for you to come up. the small blonde smiled up at you as you looked down at her, pulling you down for a soft kiss. you angled her head just so as you sucked gently on her tongue before you pecked her lips again. “thank you for choosing me” historia smiled lovingly. “every time” you whispered in return with a smile before kissing her again
jean: “i want to marry you” jean said between peppered kisses on your chest. “marry me” you chuckled, thinking your lover was joking for a moment before he lifted his words and repeated himself. “i mean it” his brown eyes shone brightly. “i want to marry you. i want to be together with you like this forever.” it definitely didn’t seem like a joke anymore. “marry me”
reiner: “i’m sorry.” reiner laid his head on your shoulder, halting his thrusts entirely. “wha? what are you apologizing for, reiner?” you asked him in confusion what he was apologizing for, the bricks of the wall prickling your skin. but he never explained. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he kept repeating. you weren’t sure if he was apologizing to you, or someone else entirely
porco: he broke down and cried like a tall child in the crook of your neck, buried inside you. he didn’t have to say anything for you to still hear what he was saying in his tone and in how tightly he held you. i’m in pain. i miss my brother. i want him to come back. i’m hurting. you wrapped one arm around his back and brought the other to caress his hair as you whispered “i know, i know”
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headcanon: when they wake up in the middle of the night and realize you drifted off to the other side of the bed.
➼ genre: fluff. ➼ tw: none
➼ ft. eren, armin, jean, reiner, porco & levi
eren: eren would be the type to scooch closer to you when you're sleeping. doesn't matter how close or far you are from the edge of the bed, he'll always be the one to adjust bc he doesn't wanna risk waking you up. he'd wrap his arms tightly around your waist, bury his nose into your hair, then fall back asleep. (additionally: he doesn't consider that you're both on the edge of the bed now, so it won't be far fetched to say you'll end up on the floor when you wake up. he's still latched onto you though.)
armin: also the type to scooch closer to you because he doesn't wanna wake you up. unlike eren tho, he actually considers the possibility of waking up on the floor. so if you're on the edge of the bed and about to fall off, he'd discreetly pull on the blanket and slowly inch you closer towards the middle where you're safe. would wrap his arms loosely around you and fall back asleep facing you, even if you're not facing him.
jean: i see him as the type to pull you closer but also scooch towards you. believes in meeting in the middle (of the bed) and would wrap his arm around your waist, slowly pull you closer, and if you wake up he'll kiss your forehead and gently tell you to "go back to sleep, babe." likely to gently turn you around if you're not facing him; he likes falling asleep facing each other, thinks it's more intimate that way.
reiner: he's the type to lift you up when he realizes you've drifted off to the edge of the bed. when i say "lift you up" i don't mean carry you off your feet bridal style, but he'd put his arms underneath your knees and back, gently lift you a couple inches from the bed, then bring you closer to him. only when you're cuddled up to him will he be able to fall back asleep (all that without waking you up; he's a talented cuddler.)
porco: would pull you closer to him, no questions asked. he won't scooch closer like the others— he'd wrap his arm around your waist and pull you towards him, no matter how far you are. you'll likely wake up to the feeling of being gently dragged across the bed, but when your back meets a warm chest followed by a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy "sorry, princess. you were too far away," both you and pock fall back asleep.
levi: in all honesty, levi's not likely to pull you closer. when he wakes up, it's his insomnia keeing him up and he probably won't fall back asleep any time soon. like armin, he'd pull at the blankets to inch you closer towards the middle of the bed. from there, he'd face your general direction and look at you fondly. sometimes he'd play with your hair or interlock your pinkeys, and if he's feeling indulgent, he'd wrap his arm around you and give you a forehead kiss. either way, he'll get up and get dressed shortly after so he can start with work.
alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.
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WHY’D YOU ONLY CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE HIGH? [jean kirstein one shot]
based on this song: why’d you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys
also inspiration from this tiktok
pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader
rating: mature. chapter contains smut. +18
—cw: alcohol using, mentions of drugs, friends to lovers, size kink, breeding kink, stomach bulges, soft dom! jean, sub! jean, face-slapping, praising, pet names, oral sex, fingering
summary: jean kirstein was deeply, drunkenly in love with you and finally he had the courage to say it. you found your friend at your front door three in the morning; high, needy and begging for your touch.
notes: since it’s a new blog pls reblog my work if you like! took me four days to finish, ugh. happy 300 followers!
WHY’D YOU ONLY CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE HIGH?
Jean stared at his phone for a moment, he cringed at that pathetic message he was about to send. His thumb stalled at that send button so long, finally he was noticed by Connie. “Oi, who’s the lucky girl, Jean-boy?”
“Shut up.” He murmured just after locking his phone. It was in a flash, Connie couldn’t even see the contact. “C’mon man, are you shy? Tell me—”
“Why do you need him to say it, Connie. We all know it’s Mikasa.” Eren interrupted, his voice was flat yet Jean could catch that hidden playful tone. There was a smirk on his face that Jean wanted to punch him till it would be gone. He was on the other side of the small table, his face was relaxed but his arrogant smile was still there, annoying Jean.
Jean didn’t try to answer him because he knew it could lead them into a small fight. He didn’t want it, he just wanted to send that ridiculous text. It was him again taking the responsibility, he was so tense since they came to the place. He didn’t even use or drink anything they did because he knew they were careless and dumb. But it started to bug him when the clock on the wall hit 2AM. Maybe being careless just enough to relax wouldn’t hurt anybody.
It bugged him the way Eren was so free to talk about love and the girls in their group, Connie was already drunk and laughed every damn thing he could. So Jean started to think why can’t be him talking so freely about love for just one night. Not just any type of love, he wanted to talk about the love he kept inside of him for so long. The same love everyone thought it was for Mikasa.
But there was one thing clear; Jean Kirstein was deeply, drunkenly in love with you.
Yes, he had a big crush on Mikasa once. You came into his life just when he needed. Everyone in his group was sure that Jean would love Mikasa forever and they didn’t see anything wrong about saying it. So everytime he thought things like how your hair was beautiful too or how good he felt when you hugged him, he always hid himself behind the fact he loved Mikasa.
Because loving someone who’s never going to love you back was better being in love with your closest friend, right?
You were the one he wanted to text from the beginning. Not just a stupid thing like ‘you up?’ but also ‘can i come over and cuddle you to sleep because it feels so nice to have your tiny body flush against mine?’
Those cute messages he wanted to text you turned into something naughty in his mind after his third glass. He could hear his friends were cheering him but his mind was so busy thinking about you he didn’t actually hear them. He felt different, ‘Maybe those bastards gave me something.’ he thought. Considering the fact he was nearly sure he heard something like ‘Now let’s pray for the girl he’ll find’
Was it before Jean himself asked Eren for anything it will ease him off? Yes, probably it was.
He was turning his phone between his index finger and thumb while drinking his fourth. Jean didn’t know he could get more creative when he is high. Because all the possible messages he could send to you weren’t something Jean would normally say.
Instead of offering his cuddles he started to realize he could give you more, so he could text you something like ‘did you ever fantasize how good i would fill you up? i learned from sasha that only thing enters to your tight hole is your fingers nowadays.’
He closed his eyes and groaned at the thought mentally. Jean wasn’t a pervert, at least he thought he wasn’t until now. Beside all these intense feelings he felt for you, he always respected the boundaries of the friendship. But now, in this state of mind, he started to realize you weren’t innocent at all. And just after that he also understood why he wanted to cuddle you in your sleep that much. Because you were the one grinding to his body in the middle of the night, giving him painful boners but also those soft sweet sounds escaped from your mouth. Now a hopeful feeling was rising inside of him with the thought of maybe it was his name you moaned in your sleep, he never catched it but also never heard any other name from your beautiful lips.
It was hope, a dangerous one.
The song playing in the place was putting him into an euphoric trance. With all those basses and guitar, anyone hear this song would want to fuck, like it was made for this purpose. He only heard that one specific line, he didn’t even know if it was the singer keep singing it or his mind.
Crawling back to you.
Crawling back to you.
Crawling back to you.
He laughed to himself slowly. His legs were wide apart on the high stool. One of them was higher, he rested one of his feet with hooking his boot’s heel to his stool. There wasn’t anything funny but he couldn’t erase that damn smile from his face. Maybe it was because how annoyed Eren looked, any other girls didn’t come to the table for him.
Jean’s upper teeth was on display, the way he unconsciously wandered his tongue on them was a sexy sight to look. He had this natural charm, he knew that. The thing he didn’t know was how bad it would effect you to see him like that. So bad it would make your knees shake. Well, he could change that.
He gave Connie’s shoulder a little pat before heading to the bathroom. His heavy leather boots left strong thuds behind him, those black jeans hugged his long legs perfectly. Maybe that was the reason Eren sounded offended when they entered to the place, it was because everyone’s eyes turned to Jean and not him.
Ah, Jean was such a sight. With his leather jacket, tall figure and unique hair, it was impossible to not to draw attention. He was painfully handsome and he didn't even realized nearly all the women and men eyed him since he came.
After seconds, or maybe minutes, he was looking at his messy reflection in the bathroom. ‘The mirror's image, it tells me it's home time.’ He thought. His ash-brown hair was a mess and he couldn’t focus on his face. He was drunk, drunk in love enough to see your face on the mirror while he was trying to fix his jacket. He dreamed about how you would do that for him, you would be on your tiptoes to reach his collar. How freaking cute. Or to reach his lips. Or to tug his hair that you always complimented.
He could let you without a word. You would do anything to him and he wouldn’t open his mouth.
Jean tried to think anything, any other thing than you that won’t give him a boner in this public place. His body was angry at him. All the cells in his body was screaming him to grab his phone from that table and go to your place directly. To keep texting you what he would do to you if you could let him. Calling you to hear your soft spoken voice in his ear.
No, this night he couldn’t go to home, you were his home. He just needed to reach you. “I'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side” He was murmuring to himself while walking clumsily.
The first step he took at the corridor caused him to collided with someone. He was drunk enough to not realizing it was the woman purposely stepped into him. He spluttered, his voice was gruff. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”
His light brown eyes found the woman’s face, but no— it was yours. And from that physical contact he could see why he loved hugging you so much. The way your boobs were pressed against his chest made him dizzy. He could remember the times you were so lazy to wear a bra so he could see your poking nipples through your t-shirt. For the second time; Jean wasn’t a pervert. But it didn’t changed the fact he always found a way to pull you to his lap to feel your nipples on his body.
‘Decided that once again I was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you’
Jean averted his eyes from woman’s t-shirt in a second. “Sorry.” He spoke again, it was more embarrassed than the first one.
It wasn't just drunk courage he felt. He could feel this weird emotion in his pants; it was pure need. He was horny and he needed his dearest friend so fucking much.
Another five minutes later he was in the cab. Space and time were blurred, already tangled. His phone was in his hand and he didn't forget to drink two tequila shots before he left— maybe he drank three, he couldn’t count.
It was decided now, he was going to talk about love and he was about to do that to your face. He was smiling to himself with half lidded eyes and he didn’t even know your phone already had four unread messages and three missed calls.
‘You up?’ 02.57AM
‘Fuck, i was trying to delete it.’ 02.57AM
One missed call. 02.59AM
‘Need to see you so bad.’ 03.02AM
‘I need your touch.’ 03.03AM
Two missed calls. 03.07AM
At those moments you were sitting in your bed in an oversize t-shirt, you were busy with staring at your phone’s bright screen and losing your fucking mind.
He was high.
You knew it so good, you knew it since Eren cheekly texted to the groupchat minutes ago. Said that we should ignore Jean if he tries to call us, especially Mikasa. It hurt you the way everyone seperated Mikasa when it comes to Jean.
It hurt you more than normal when you consider the fact he was just a close friend of yours. He was a damn gorgeous, sexy, intoxicating man that’s all.
You were damned.
You were damned because it was so obvious that you were deeply, drunkenly in love with him. Yet only Sasha noticed that and she wasn’t sorry for you at all. All she did was smiling and giggling like a mad woman and you never understood why.
Now you were angry at him when you had zero rights to do that to the poor lovesick man. It was so clear that he accidentally texted you instead of Mikasa. It hurt you even more. Because only for a moment you thought it could be you he desired, the one he begged for your touch. You didn’t think twice while your thumbs were wandering on your keyboard quickly.
‘You texted the wrong contact, Jean.’ 03.11AM
‘I am not Mikasa’ 03.11AM
You quickly tried to delete the last one but it was too late. Your bottom lip was between your teeth when you typed the last message, after that you locked your phone and threw it to the nightstand with a rage.
‘Seriously Jean, it's three in the morning. Next time check the number before getting drunk and texting her. You never call me this late. Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?’ 03.14AM
There was no response from him for the next five minutes so you thought maybe he reached to the Armin and Mikasa’s shared apartment. That thought was heart-wrenching to think but at least you knew he’d be safe there. Armin could take care of him since this Jean was rare and new to everyone.
But not to you.
You were the one he always came. Yes, mostly it wasn’t that drunk Jean you saw. He was at your door with a well picked movie and a bag of snacks, to cuddle you in your couch. Or he was the one rushed to your house when you said you have nothing to eat, he always placed you to the same place on the counter and talked to you while cooking sweet meals. He was such a sweetheart, such a passionate man and you were so angry at Mikasa being so blind about it.
Oh, you wish you could know how blind you were.
At least you had rights to assume it was Mikasa he cried for. It was the first time you saw Jean crying, you remembered that night so well. It was two in the morning when there was a knock on your door. When you opened the door for him first thing he aggressively said was ‘Where is he?’
It was those painful times you were trying to get over the feelings you started to feel towards Jean, so you had a date that night. But of course it didn't go well, you only saw his face instead of your date’s all the time.
So you were already sad when Jean showed up like this. Totally wasted and crying about how he can’t stand to seeing her with another man. Once again, you had all the rights to think it was Mikasa he talked about since he never used any name. He always shushed you when you didn’t even open your mouth. You were glad his eyes were teary so he didn’t see you were also crying silently.
He kept placing his index finger on your lips and said ‘You can’t tell her any of this, she’ll hate me.’ But you remembered how these small warnings he gave soon turned to compliments like ‘Your lips feel so soft, you just look like her. Can i touch it again?’
This Jean was far from new to you because you were the one he came to your house with an empty bottle of wine and he fell asleep on your lap. Or while his face was buried in your neck, you heard all of his slow whispers. ‘You smell just like her.’
You were in so much pain you didn’t even realize your perfume was nothing similar with Mikasa’s. And Jean was so dumb to forget the person he was talking to.
Now he was coming to your house without knowing the fact he already confessed his love to you. Over and over again. On his knees, in front of you or while he was crying on your chest. He just kept forgetting it and trapped both of you in this brutal loop.
He needed to save you. He needed to save you and he knew he could give his everything to you for that purpose. His mind, his soul, his body were belong to you already; he just needed you to claim it.
Ah, he wanted to claim yours. Because maybe he didn’t remember how he cried about your dates with other men but he remembered you were still seeing people. He wanted you to see him only, it would free him finally.
When he knocked your door, it was three in the morning and he was about to change your mind. He left you multiple missed calls and to his message, you replied, ‘Why'd you only call me when you're high?’
You were looking at his last messages while walking to your door, your steps were slow enough to buy some time, you were preparing yourself for anything. You didn’t know why but this time felt different even you lived this scenario with him dozens of times. You didn’t realized that oversize t-shirt you were wearing was one of the Jean’s.
His look always took your breath away, you could admit it. He had an unique aura embraced you and filled your mind everytime you saw him. At these hours you always found him at your door with a pained expression on his face; teary eyes or trembling pink lips. This time was different.
First thing you could process was the fact he was so big and so tall compared to you. He stood with his all glory on your door step, one of his hands were on the door frame. His tight grip on there was strong like you could escape, he was trapping you with him for the last time, one last loop he’ll confess his love to you.
There was a nearly empty bottle on his other hand. It turned into completely empty one seconds after you looked at it. He slowly lifted the bottle to his parted lips. You could swear you saw a smirk there. His tongue darted out slightly to give you a show, you watched his column of neck and his bobbing adam’s apple.
Your knees were pressed up together now; you didn’t know if it was because of the cold hitting your bare legs or his little show.
This Jean looked messy, naughty and completely lost. It was his intention. Finally he was realizing he needed to be lost first to find himself in you.
Oh, he wanted to be inside of you.
He recognized his t-shirt on you very quick. It seemed that alcohol didn’t make him dumb but heightened all of his emotions. Soon his light brown eyes found your legs. “Mmh, are you cold?” He asked, tongue rolled in his mouth lazily. And fuck, his voice was deep like this.
Your response was quick. “Jean, i can’t do it this night, okay? I’ll just give you a ride—”
“Yes. Yes, please give me a ride.” He stepped into your apartment. He walked to you with such confidence, he never flinched so you couldn’t help but stepped backwards. He was intimidating. “Th- Then wait outside.”
“Let me stay.” Jean said. His empty hand closed the door without even looking, his eyes were fixed on you. “—You can’t do what?”
You took a deep breath before you spoke, your voice was weak just like your legs, he was so close now. You could smell the mix of old leather and his familiar cologne. “I can’t listen your whines.”
“Oh, do i whine?” He gave you a small laugh, you were in a trance by his look so you didn’t realize he got so much closer to you. His both hands were empty now, one of them cut your way to the inside. “Then show me how should i talk, sweetheart. You are not much a good example now, eh?”
“Do you think it’s funny? St— stop coming on to me!”
“That’s more I like it.” It was the first time he saw you this angry. Your voice were higher now, you nearly screamed to his face.
He was close, dangerously close. “See, you can scream. Do you want me to talk to you in that tone?”
“You are clearly drunk, Jean.” You started. You were hesitant at first but this Jean gave you a courage, it was the first time you saw him this relax, this flirtatious to you. The tone he used was intoxicating, you could close your eyes and feel like he was whispering those words to you while fucking you.
So with the support of that little bit of courage inside you, your hand gripped his chin, fingers were digging into his jaw. You looked directly into his eyes, to find any red tint on them. “At least you are only drunk.” You hissed.
You released your tight grip on his chin but as soon as you did he held your wrist tightly. “No, no no no—” He placed your hand on his face again, his big hand stayed in place only for a moment, he made you caress his cheek. Next time he talked, his voice was honeyed. You could smell the alcohol from his breath. “Show me your claws, kitten. It’s okay— What does make you this angry?”
‘Fuck your pet names.’ You thought. ‘And fuck your so kissable lips, fuck the confession i am about to make.’
“I am so sick of listening you how deep is your love for Mikasa or how you hate so much when she goes to date with other guys. I mean she doesn’t even go to dates, are you delisional—” You shut your mouth suddenly. There was something wrong. There was something you didn’t even notice until now and you felt so dumb about it. Mikasa Ackerman never went to date with any guys. So why Jean cried so much about it?
Jean carried an expression of disbelief on his face. Why you looked like you were in pain when you said her name? Alcohol on his body betrayed him again, he chuckled deeply. The way his best friend were looking at his lips with such a hunger made him feel that familiar feeling again. A menacing hope. “My love isn’t for Mikasa. Maybe I should tell you— It sort of feels like I'm runnin' out of time.”
You tried to be nicer towards him, he was still the person you were in love with after all. Your thumb caressed his cheekbone and he leaned into your touch, his eyes closed without his permission. “You don’t know what you are talking about. Please stop this— You're startin' to bore me, Jean.”
Was he boring you really? Jean frowned like a child to the thought. He pulled his face back slightly, just enough to break the contact. Because if you keep massaging his scalp he could get much closer to you. It was so easy to him to make you stuck between his towering body and the wall. Just one small step and he could make you feel all of him. “It's harder and harder to get you to listen more I get through the gears.” He spoke. “You act so dumb to don't get it. We both are so fucking dumb—”
You slapped across his cheek. Hard. At that point you were so angry at him. How could he come to your house drunk just to call you dumb and still look so damn good while doing it.
Jean’s head tilted to the left slightly, his soft hair fell out on his face and he did something made you gasp, made you aroused at that second. He purred to your touch. Deeply, almost like a moan.
He wasted no time to turn his face back again, there was no visible anger on his face. Instead of anger, his look was eager. But you would prefer his anger instead of this dark expression he had because this Jean was making your knees shake. The tip of his tongue licked the edge of his glossy lips, his eyes never left your parted lips while he was doing it.
Now you could clearly see why this was different from the other times. It looked like he already made his decisions before coming to your place, about who was the person he wanted all along. You shivered, your voice was weak again because of the burden of all those wrong thoughts. You didn’t want him to ruin this friendship while his only intention was ruining it. He wanted to ruin you so he could build you up again with his endless love.
His handsome face was inches away from yours. Because of the height difference his head was slanted already. With the back of his fingers he grazed your neck so slow, then found its place on your chin. Your heart was about to stop when he tilted your head upwards, using only a little pressure. Your mind was fixed on one particular thing; how the things he cried for never matched with Mikasa when you think about them again. You were so sad, so blind to see everytime. “You are incapable of makin’ alright decisions r- right now—”
“And I have bad ideas.”
His soft lips met with yours for the first time. You both sighed in such longing, it was a relief for both of you. His kiss was so gentle. It was ‘till one of your hands reached to his hair, to tug them just like he imagined for the countless times.
A groan escaped from his lips, this way you found a chance to ask. Anything, anything will get you out of this mind-bending trance. “Je— Jean I—”
Your open mouth gave him the best access, his tongue found his way easily. You didn’t know how he could be that good in french kiss and you didn’t want to learn it either. He whispered to your lips between his hot breaths, desperately.
“—Hush, my love. Let me taste you. I’ve waited so long for this.”
You didn’t let him to kiss you this time. Your face was all flushed, you were looking like drunker than Jean and he loved it. It was like his lips were your drug. “—for what?”
Jean knew it was the perfect chance. His voice was full of excitement when he talked. “Let me show you.” He said. “Let me show how much i need you.”
You looked into his light brown eyes, they were darkened by lust but you could see it was still your Jean. Fuck, all this time it was your Jean, not Mikasa’s or any other woman’s.
When he saw your shy little nod he smiled dearly. “That’s my girl.” He said just before one of his hands found your thigh. Jean kissed you again; his kisses were rougher. In contrast, his movements on your bare thigh felt like a feather. His touches were careful to not to make you panic, just like you were his scared little pet.
He lifted your leg slightly, murmured between his open mouthed kisses. “Hop.”
You did like he gently ordered, jumped with your only leg. You couldn’t help but a small noice came out of your mouth. He chuckled before giving you another deep kiss. “—Ssh, i got you.” He spoke in your mouth. “I’ll always catch you.”
You circled your legs around his waist without losing time, one of his hands gave you a squeeze to your thigh in response. It was like his silent reward to you, you heard his voice in your mind again. You would do anything to hear him say that to you one more time. That’s my girl.
You unconsciously shifted on his lap and that was when you felt his growing erection on your most sensitive part. You both moaned into your mouths because of the friction. The way Jean felt so free to moan, to show how bad you were affecting him made you dizzy. Once you felt his hard dick between your legs, you despairingly tried to pull yourself upwards. Your shaking hands on his broad shoulders were about to pull your weight up.
But then he stopped you. One of his hands grasped your ass and he pressed you to himself, to the where he needed you most. “Don’t escape this time.” He pleaded. But when he rubbed your clothed heat against his length again, his tone was nothing but gentle; he was playing with your mind. “Do not. Escape.”
You have no other choice but obey him while he was talking to you like that. Instead of responding, you grinded against him and when an animalistic growl came from the back of his throat, you both lost it.
Next minutes of your make out was the most passionate minutes of your life, maybe. When you both finally reached to your bed, there were fresh bite marks on your neck, Jean’s hair was an absolute mess and his jacket was nowhere to be found. Oh, also there was broken frame on your corridor’s wall.
Despite his rough movements he placed you in your soft bed like you were his queen, his princess. “Accept me.” He said. His both knees were on the bed now, you have no idea where did his boots gone. It was like you drank this handsome man between your legs, and now you were the drunk of him.
You nodded again, this time it wasn’t enough for him. “I want to hear it from your sweet mouth. What do you want from me, angel?”
“I want you to touch me.” You parted your legs wider for him.
He took off his shirt while he was sure your eyes never left his body. Yes, you saw him shirtless before, countless times. But it was nothing similar with him undressing for you. His movements were so smooth, even graceful. He put on a show for you. His firm muscles flexed in such a perfect harmony. And you could see his defined v-line from there. It was such a mouthwatering sight. “Please, touch me—” You begged, hands tried to reach up to him.
You were still shy about telling him where you want him, Jean was the drunk and brave one. But he was dying to see how much he could push you, he wanted to see your limits and stretch them really good.
One of his hands found your ankle and lifted your leg slightly. He kissed your ankle first, then he gave an open mouthed kiss to your calf. At that moment you were under the spell of him. He kissed the side of your knee just before inching up to your thigh. While you were waiting for him to kiss the soft flesh of your inner thigh he did something different, he bit your flesh. “—Ah!” You exclaimed not because of the pain but surprise.
He shushed you, gave a lick to your skin just after sucking it. “Want to leave my marks all over your body.” Jean made an eye contact with you for the first time while he was between your legs, he continued murmuring. His hot breaths were inches away from your clothed pussy. “I want them to see who i really want.”
He hooked his thumbs to your panties and smiled at you, it was a smile he wouldn’t give you normally. Yes, it was sweet but also it was so damn naughty.
You nodded silently, he didn’t need anything more. Yet. He removed your underwear and you saw how drunk Jean was smirking at you shamessly while stuffing your panties in the back pocket of his black jeans.
You couldn’t help but closing your legs again, he tutted while you were halfway down. “Nah-ah-ah.” He started. “Open ‘em wide, sweetheart. Like you did before.”
You obeyed, this sweet voice of him could make you do anything. “Ah, that’s my good girl.” He praised.
And since he knew you hate waiting from the times he spent with you as your best friend, he bended over at the edge of the bed. “I’ll have to stop if i don’t hear your pretty sounds, baby. Don’t hold ‘em back.”
His hands grasped your legs with a firm grip, his all attention was on your pussy now. He looked at you under his thick lashes. “You look so pretty when you blush,” He started, his hot breath hitting your wetness made you stir in your place. “So fucking pretty.”
Jean flatted his tongue on your slit and gave you an experimental long licks. Once again, he wasn’t shy to groan loudly. He needed you to hear how much he liked your taste. “—mhm”
Even you didn't talk, your body responses were driving him crazy. He just wanted to push you more, he needed to hear something or feel your touch to keep himself in reality. He felt heavenly between your legs, you affected him much more badly than alcohol.
He gathered your slick with his tongue then drew circles on your clit, you started to give him louder moans. Finally. “A- ah! Jean, yes— just like that."
Since you were being a such obendient girl for him and you never tried to close your legs, he removed one of his hands from your thigh. He started to toy with your clit till you were a shaking mess under him.
Your fist were clenching on your white sheets so tightly, he could see you were still holding yourself back. Ah, you were embarrassed because you liked it so much.
So he could play with you a little more to see how much your cheeks would get blushed. His vibrating tongue slowly stopped, instead of those licks that made you crazy he was giving kitty licks to your slit now. Just before you were about to reach your orgasm. "J-jean no—" You whined. "—want it back."
He was busy with giving you another bite mark to your thigh. He always loved holding them, those small touches when he lifted you up to the counter or when he carried you to this same exact bed after you fall asleep on his lap. But this was so different; feeling their softness against the sides of his head, leaving his signature on them. He released your flesh with a wet pop sound. His lips were glistening under the dim light of your room. He placed an innocent expression on his face just for a moment, this image burned into your memory instantly. "Want what?"
Your frustrated groan amused him. "This." You murmured, just before grabbing a hold of his soft hair and pressing his mouth to your cunt. He hummed in response, showing you that he absolutely loved your attitude and you won't get punished because of this.
It was this easy to encourage you. So you hissed between your teeth again, his tongue work already made you light-headed. "Do not— escape."
When he heard your harsh words, just like he said to you minutes ago, it went straight to his dick. He might seem loving dominate you, and it was true. But you controlling him like that was about to make him lose his mind. He already lost most of his logic to the alcohol, you were going to be the end of him.
It wasn't like he licking you anymore, now you were riding his face. He made it easy for you and guided your hips, the tip of his tongue teased your hole with your every grind. He was humming in ecstasy, that specific vibrating made you reach your high.
At that moment Jean felt blissful and pathetic at the same time. Maybe you couldn't see but you could feel his body movement, how he was trying to fuck the edge of the bed, to get any friction. He kept thrusting into your bed sheets, his cock was already aching for you.
Listening your sweet moans while you were coming nearly made him come with you. But oh- no, this night there was no other place to cum instead your insides. The thought of your walls clenching around nothing made his cock twitched. He couldn't wait anymore.
Jean didn't remove his head even after you started to came. He kept caressing your lower tummy, your thighs. One of your legs were on his broad shoulder, your heel were digging up his back but he didn't care. He felt celestial, you both did. He slowly pulled his head back before making sure the tip of his tongue eased your clit, after your first orgasm.
Because his main intention was giving you multiple orgasms despite his pulsing cock. It was like if he could make you feel good enough, you could accept him. The thing he didn't know was the fact you accept him nights, days, months before.
His stubble was coated with your juices. When he inched away from your pussy to look at your face, you could see mix of you and his saliva was dripping down from his chin. It was such a sinful sight, with that look on his face. This night was like the embodiment of your deepest desires.
"You did so good, angel—" It was the first thing he said between his breaths. "now i need to ask you if— if you wanna continue."
You wanted to cry.
You were still having a hard time to process this was real, your dearest friend between your legs and the incredible orgasm he just gave you only with his tongue was real. But he was so perfect he made it harder to you. Jean was the drunk one and you damn good knew he was painfully hard in his pants yet he was still asking you. Gently, with those blurry pleading eyes.
"Yes— yes i want Jean."
"Yeah?" He placed your leg to the bed with a soft move, then kissed your knee tenderly before standing up. "—and what exactly you want me to do, love?"
This time you knew you couldn't escape with hinting it. "Please fuck me," You whined. "I want your dick in me—"
"Ah, you are so good at begging. So pretty good-" He praised you again, gave you a little smirk when his hands reached to his belt. The sound his belt catched your attention quick, your eyes darted to his lower parts and when you saw his boner you gasped audibly.
He chuckled to your surprise, "You are an adorable creature—" He murmured, there was this drunk little smile on his face. But it got serious when he finally got rid of his pants and you had a nice view of his hard cock. You slid to the behind on the bed, "O-oh my god."
Your eyes never left his flushed dick, you managed to speak when his knees were on the bed. He was slowly approaching you when you pressed your knees together.
Yes, there was this rumor in your friend group about 'how Jean didn't only own a horse face' but you always thought it was one of Eren's jokes about Jean. No, it wasn't. You knew one time Ymir accidentally saw Jean naked and all the thing she texted to the girl group was ‘wow.’ while she was a lesbian. Now you could understand.
“It wo- won't fit." You said, your face felt like it was burning.
“I’ll make it fit.” His words were assuring, even he find your fear so fucking hot, his eyes remained soft. To make you feel okay, make you feel safe.
Jean helped you to took off his t-shirt from your body. “Just like that— look how pretty you are.” He laid next to you gingerly, one of his elbows rested near to your head.
His hand came into your view, “Trust me, sweatheart. Open your mouth.”
When you heard his hypnotic voice you didn’t think twice to obey him. You parted your lips and let him slide his middle and ring finger into your mouth. With that view you earned an another groan from Jean, he was so drunk of you to care about the sound he made. “Mmhh— yes, love— suck ‘em.”
He didn’t think he could enjoy it more, it was until you held his big hand with both of your small ones and made eye contact with him. You hollowed your cheeks and it unconsciously made him push his fingers more to make you gag. An amazed expression was on his face, he nearly forgot it was his hand inside your mouth- not his dick. The tip of his long fingers hit the back of your throat before he pulled them out.
His fingers found your entrance without losing time, “Let’s make you stretch, baby— let’s make you stretch for my cock, yeah-”
He pushed his two fingers into you and you weren’t the only one moaning again. The way he enjoyed everything as much as you did filled you with an unique feeling. You wanted to gave him everything you could, to make him happy and satisfied.
Jean’s intention wasn’t make you cum again. But when he saw how you started to clench around his fingers and gave him those beautiful moans he was already ready to fuck you with his fingers. “—how eager you are,” His skilled digits curled in your cunt. “See, can you feel how good you stretch for me— answer me.”
“Y- yes,” You whimpered. “I feel so good- please keep doing it.”
He leaned to kiss your open mouth and stole a deep kiss from your parted lips. “Doing what, sweet girl?”
“Fucking me with your fingers,” You felt him smiling into your mouth when he kissed you again. He was such a tease.
“Anything for my princess.” He murmured into your ear. He knew so good that he was edging himself after that moment, his dick was poking to your hips while he was watching your face with half-lidded eyes. You felt him unconsciously thrusting himself into your skin, his eyes never left your face when you came on his fingers.
Your unfocused eyes found his face again, there was pure adoration on there. “I am ready, Jean— just please fuck me.”
One of your hands found his hair and you pulled his head to you. You shared a tender kiss before he placed himself between your legs again. This time there was no barrier, his face was still close to yours. To hear every little sound you make when he pushed himself inside of you for the first time.
He gathered your juices with the tip of his cock, he made sure he coated himself before pushing the flushed head in. He heard your small voice and it encouraged him to thrust into you. You whimpered.
“Ssh— I know, baby- i know,” You looked at him with teary eyes, two drops rolled down to your cheeks when you blinked them. Jean kissed both of your tears, he waited for you to adjust his size before pushing the rest.
Your mouths gaped open, you both felt how your walls were stretching around his cock. “—see” He said between his panting, “I said i’ll make it fit.”
You could see how his expression turned into something dark when he saw your teary eyes, trying to take him completely. You didn’t be scared of it since you knew you had the same exact feeling boiling inside of you.
“—‘s so big,” You whispered to his lips, your voice was broken. Oh, you were about to cry for his cock. You felt him twitching. His big hand snaked around the back of your neck. “but look how good you take it, baby-” He nearly pulled his dick out before pushing it all the way in again, his hand on your neck made you watch where your bodies joined. “—look how good you take all of my big cock.”
You could only make noises because of the angle of your head. “Hm-mh,”
When he thrusted his dick in again he saw the little bulge on your lower stomach. “—ah,” He made a surprised sound and he instantly tried to do it again to see if it was his imagination.
Because all of this heavenly night could be an imagination.
But you both see the bulge again, a bit of skin stretching to show where the tip of his cock hit you. “—you are amazing,” He said, his tone was excited. “Put one of your hands there, baby —want you to feel me,”
You placed your hand like he demanded and he didn’t wait a second to give an another deep thrust. You slightly bounced upwards, his light brown eyes tended on your breasts. He used extra strength to see how your small body shook uncontrollably everytime his hips met with yours.
You were so small compared to his tall body even he thought he couldn’t fit you for a moment. But you were like molded for him, your stretched walls were milking his cock while he was pounding inside. “—you feel so good around my cock, yeah-”
He angled your legs again and hooked them to his arms, when he leaned on you again, this new angle made your eyes roll back. “oh— my—” You managed to say between his thrusts.
There were tears again in your eyes, not only your walls but your whole body were stretching under him. It burned and it felt so damn good. “—am i -hurting you, baby?” He spoke lowly, your hand already lost contact with the bulge on your stomach, both of your hands were clawing at his back, his neck; anything you could hold. “—i know it hurts- hurt me back, just like that— it’s okay.”
You blinked a few times to his word. Hurt me back, he said. You remembered how he reacted when you slapped him. Oh, you could give the thing he wanted.
One of your hands grabbed a handful of his hair again, you made him threw his head back. Your lips wandered on his jaw. “—so full,” You said between your shallow breaths. Since he praised you like you were his princess, you could also reward him. “—you fuck me so good, Jean- i always knew you would—”
His thrusts stopped only for a moment, once he started to give them again, you could feel they were deeper. “-a -always?” He asked with a shaky voice. From his sloppier movements you could feel he was close. His big cock was pulsating inside you, not only you but you both felt so full.
“Always.” You said, his forehead met with yours. He punctated his words with hitting your sweet spot after every one of them. “I love you so fucking much.”
His voice was broken like the times he cried for you on this bed. “—love you too,” You pulled his face to your neck and caressed his hair.
That night Jean’s whines filled the room again, there was no exception. But it wasn’t when he was crying on your lap about a guy you dated, he was sobbing when he was about to come while fucking you so good.
“Cum inside me,” You cooed. “—such a good boy —fucked me so good,” Your sweet whispers to his ear made him finish.
For everytime he couldn’t say that to you in this bed, he kept whispering to your skin same sentence. It was so much easier now, he felt light like a feather. “I love you— i love you so much it hurts- so- so much, baby,”
“I know.” You kissed his cheek, the light brown strands were clung onto his forehead. “I know.”
It was the last thing he remembered.
He felt so safe between your arms, naked and bodies tangled; while he knew his hot cum were dripping out of your stretched hole in that moment. He fell asleep there, the moments of the night kept playing in his mind until he drifted off.
Jean saw himself wandering around streets in his dream that night. In his right hand there was the same exact bottle he came to your house with. The same leather jacket were on him, now it supposed to be somewhere on your corridor. It was himself knocking the wrong door; maybe it was Mikasa’s or maybe a stranger’s.
In his dream he never took the cab, he trusted to his memory and got lost in the streets. There was his phone he held tightly, you were keep messaging him the same thing constantly.
"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"
"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"
"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"
He wanted it to stop because now a familiar feeling started to rise inside of him, probably there was a frown on his handsome sleeping face. In that dream he felt the same exact thing he did everytime he sat on the same bed and didn’t tell you were the one he loves. He felt worse because dream was so real to him.
Jean remembered a moment, one of these nights he came to you high and sad, you told him a thing you read on the internet that day. Just to calm him even you knew he would forget it in the morning. But in his dream he didn’t.
You were talking about a chinese man which fell asleep one day and dreamed that he was a butterfly. When he woke up, he did not know whether he really was a man who had dreamed he was a butterfly or whether he was a butterfly now dreaming he was a man.
Jean’s heart ached.
Because if he wakes up in the streets, maybe in the cab he took and slept in it before reaching to your adress or on the uncomfortable couch of Mikasa’s; he wouldn’t ever know if he was that poor man got lost in the streets dreamed himself sleeping naked in your bed or whether he was the man reached to your home completely lost and found himself in you dreamed what could happen if he didn’t send that damn text.
if you are into philosophy and want to learn more about Zhuangzi And That Bloody Butterfly
special thanks to @/itsu_izzu (twitter/tiktok) for the inspiration! her jean is so perfect.
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lights, camera, action! 🎥
SYNOPSIS ✰ your realm is softcore, his is hardcore— what happens when you take a step into his world? was the oh so feared eren yeager as bad as people say he is?
WARNINGS ✰ dark content, 18+, pornstar!au, very descriptive drug use (coke), bdsm, impact play, breath play, temperature play, (light) anal, bondage, degradation, overstimulation, forced orgasms, use of “daddy”, asshole eren, hints of sad boy eren(?), sex work, spit.
PAIRING ✰ eren yeager x female reader.
WC ✰ 11.3K
“Your co-star for this scene is going to be Eren Yeager.”
To an outsider, hearing that a rookie would be working with the top male performer in the industry sounds like a dream, a once in a lifetime deal that not a single soul would pass up. The kind of opportunity that comes once in a lifetime merely by luck. It all sounds perfect. This could potentially be the breakout moment that every newbie wishes for while they’re daydreaming with starry and distant eyes paired with a loopy smile plastered across their lips— clocked in at their day job. It makes sense, it does. So with that being said, you can’t blame anyone who would draw this conclusion from the given circumstances without a deeper context. On paper, you should’ve been over the moon with excitement and joy when your manager gave you the news, but in reality that wasn’t the case. Not in the slightest.
You were an adult actress, a pornstar if you will. The kinds of scenes you did never varied from softcore. In other words, your résumé had things like stripteases, lingerie modeling, and simulated sex. You liked to think of it as a very taboo form of art. All of your work was very visually pleasing as well as sexually arousing, having an emphasis on the beauty of the human body and the concept of sex itself— the sensuality and passion of the act. Everything contributed to the art: from the camera angles, to the lighting, to the set and even down to what lingerie set your stylist chose to put you in.
Having only a humble four months under your belt, you were fairly new to the porn industry. You weren’t completely unknown though, you managed to get quite a bit of attention from your scenes. You had a sweet look to you that many viewers called “refreshing.” Doe-like eyes, plump lips, and a smile that was sweeter than honey raked in a lot of new fans. They all found you genuine, not putting on this absurdly sexual persona solely for the camera-- and you weren’t. You were just simply being you and many found it very inviting, natural and enjoyable to watch. It felt a bit amateur like, having the realness of it all but still having a high production value.
Your most popular video was filmed with a good friend of yours named Jean. He was a fellow softcore actor, very handsome and as gentlemanly as they come— ranked at number 6. The chemistry between you two is what really made the video skyrocket in popularity. It also helped that you both were a dazzling pair, completely stunning together with chemistry that made you two look like a real couple. Through a mutual friend who had been throwing a party. From there you two hit it off, not realizing that you both actually did porn. Looking back you’re not sure how you didn’t put two and two together. Jean sat at number 6, you knew he looked way familiar and yet, everything went right over your head. Maybe it was the shots you were talked into that slowed your comprehension?
Jean was actually the one that put the thought in your head to venture out to different realms of pornography. He took you out for lunch a couple weeks back and brought it up so casually. You didn’t think much of it first but then you began to seriously consider it. Jean was pretty popular in both realms, maybe it would be good for your career to try something new. After all, a little risk can lead to success, right? Or something like that.
Now there you were; in your cozy apartment sat in the comfort of your own bed. Your phone was wedged between your ear and shoulder while on the phone with your manager who just told you who your new co-star was going to be.
“Eren Yeager?” You asked incredulously, putting a hold on painting your toenails. God, hearing that name made your heart skip a beat.
“Yes, (Name). This is really big for you!” Yelena exclaimed through the phone, hearing the excitement color her tone.
“I know but,” You sighed, twisting the top back on the white nail polish. “I think I might be having second thoughts..” You finished. The silence on the other end was louder than you would’ve liked.
“Is it because you’re venturing outside of your realm or the rumors?” She asks, earning her own silence from your line. You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, not particularly looking at something but rather lost in thought as you looked off into the short distance in front of you. Yelena could hear the soft music in the background coming from what she assumed to be either an Alexa or a stereo in your room.
“..Both. This is all so overwhelming and happening too quickly.” You admit.
“I understand. I do, but Yeager’s agency specifically reached out to you when they saw your tweet. This isn’t something that just happens.” Yelena says.
Oh, right. Your tweet. A couple days beforehand you asked your followers who they would be interested in seeing you work with. You specified that it didn’t mind what genre, that they could go crazy— basically admitting that you were thinking about moving beyond softcore porn.
You got so many responses. Some varied from popular wlw actresses like Pieck and Hitch, to indie actors like Connie and Hange, to top tier actors with big names like Reiner Braun and Levi Ackerman. It was quite the melting pot, but however, there was an overwhelming response asking for one one man in particular.
“You and @.JaegerBombEnt would be hot together!”
“@.JaegerBombEnt! @ .JaegerBombEnt! @.JaegerBombEnt! ”
“I know you do softcore but didn’t you say you wanted to try something new? Regardless, @.JaegerBombEnt would destroy you.”
“I don’t think @.JaegerBombEnt has ever been with a girl as cute as you..”
“You always have a choice, (Name),” Yelena reassures, her voice calm and caring like always. “But please let me know if we’re accepting their offer or not before it's too late. Sleep on it, okay?” She finishes, her voice with not a single ounce of frustration or indication that she was upset. You were so grateful for her. Yelena never pressured you into things you weren’t comfortable with, your feelings and opinions always mattered. You’ve heard the horror stories about other actors and their managers, you were glad you met Yelena when you did, especially being a rookie. Yelena welcomed you with open arms and now here you were, second guessing the opportunity of a lifetime and she wasn’t upset with you.
“Okay.” You sigh, wiggling your toes admiring your work.
“I’ll check in tomorrow. Try to get a good night’s rest.” Yelena signs off.
“You too, Lena.” You say before hearing the dial tone, signaling that the call was over.
You let out an exasperated sigh, letting your body flop back down onto the bed against the fluffy pillows behind you. Your phone fell out of your hand, now laying somewhere idle on the bed beside you. You stared up at the ceiling, your mind wandering to him.
Eren Yeager. Eren Yeager. Where do you even begin when addressing the insanely attractive green-eyed man? For starters he was the top male talent in the business. You can bring up the topic of success in the industry without bringing up his name. Eren was the pinnacle of good looks. Standing at just over six foot, not only was his body incredibly ripped and lean, but he had one of the prettiest faces along with it. Beautiful green eyes, plump lips and brunette hair that was reminiscent of a Hershey’s chocolate bar in color. His toned arms and torso were covered in stylistic tattoos spaced out with purpose, all differing in sizes— his body closely resembled an artist’s sketchbook. He also wore a hoop nose ring in his right nostril, a silver ball in the center of his tongue and almost always styled his long locks in a low messy bun. Eren Yeager was a sight for sore eyes.
Yeah, he looked like the perfect man. The kind of man every good girl fantasizes about— you know, the bad boy type. The man you wouldn’t even consider to bring home to your parents knowing they wouldn’t approve of his aloof attitude and sultry look. The man you sneak through your windows in the late hours of the night trying your hardest to keep the moans and whimpers of his name at a minimum because everyone in the house is asleep. Hm, the kind of guy that introduces you to liquor and drugs like marijuana and ecstasy, and you’re swooning over the fact that he took care of you so well even when he was just as fucked up, Yeah, the best way to put it is that he looked like a fucking fantasy.
You couldn’t help but to let your mind run off into more anxious territories, you were worried— you’ve heard the rumors surrounding Yeager. The borderline horror stories told by former employees under his company and ex co-stars he formerly worked with on scenes. The lengthy threads about the man on twitter and the various Instagram lives of people ranting about their experiences with Eren. There was no way that it was all hearsay, the possibility was that actually being true was little to none. That the thing that worried you the most-- the fact that some of it had to be true.
Eren didn’t have the best reputation. Actually, he had the worst amongst all the popular adult actors, and it was ironic since he’s still sitting at the number one rank— he was unmoving. Eren always seemed to be in scandal after scandal, with many questionable articles about him every other week on news blogs, twitter, and other major social media. It never failed, it was like clockwork usually having reoccurring headlines that essentially made out him to be the biggest asshole in existence.
In a way, you almost felt bad. You’ve never met this man before, only hearing other people’s stories, and you already had these assumptions about him. It wasn’t fair to him. You were big on giving everyone a fair chance before deciding your opinions and feelings about them. You literally have the opportunity of a lifetime right in your hands to do so. Were you really going to give this up because you were… intimidated?
You nursed your bottom lip in between your teeth with a gentle pressure once an idea popped into your head. You sat up quickly and grabbed the laptop sitting atop of your bedside table, opening the device to type in your password. Your fingers worked without any hesitation as it’s become second nature to you, opening your private browser and typing the URL JaegerBombEnt.com. Your heart skipped a beat when you were met with the website’s initial interface. Before entering you were met with a popup message asking to verify whether you were 18 years or older. You clicked yes and was prompted to the official site.
The whole theme of the site was based on his trademark colors, red, black and silver. Those were the colors featured in his logo and opening intro to every single of his videos. Everything looked so clean, concise and professional, but you didn’t expect anything less from the top male talent in the business right now. Everything was very aesthetically pleasing, something that you appreciated very much.
You clicked the drop down menu in the corner of the screen and saw a few different options: About Jaeger, Videos, Talent and Contact Us. Out of curiosity, you went to his about page first. It took a second before you were met with all his stats.
Real Name: Eren Yeager.
Weight: 160 lbs.
Endowment: 9 inches.
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual.
Turn Ons: BDSM & cute faces.
Turn Offs: Liars.
“Nine inches-- Christ.” You murmured to yourself quietly. The biggest you’ve ever had was seven. That was Jean and even then you struggled to take it all. Eren was an absolute beast of a man.
You spent the next thirty minutes or so skimming through his content, your tummy doing flips seeing just how fucking kinky he was. Eren seemed to have a special liking to the S and M in BDSM. Humiliation, using hot wax, whips and impact play, clothespins, degradation that was borderline verbal abuse. That was only the tip of the iceberg. His co-stars had a track record of not being able to finish scenes with him. Many claimed that it was “too much,” that he was a ruthless and soulless shell when the camera began to roll. They claimed that he was a “sick freak” and “mentally ill” for how far he goes. There were plenty of videos where the scene at hand abruptly ends with a cut, followed by the outro.
The more you scrolled through you saw that he also had a few solo videos published, but one video in particular caught your eye. The thumbnail was different from the rest, instead of a professional photo taken for the specific video in question, it was rather a screencap. You dragged your finger across the mousepad, clicking the link.
You took note that this particular video had been filmed by himself, maybe on his phone’s camera? The quality was significantly different, not bad per say, but more amateurish. Eren looked like he was in the comfort of his own bed. The bed sheets, blankets and pillows beneath him looked pristinely white and soft against him and the way his camera was set, you could clearly see the large window on the other side of the room. The lighting from the outside silhouetting his body so tastefully for the camera. The sky was pretty, the blue and pink hues from above mixing in with the city’s atmospheric haze.
Eren was shirtless. All his tattoos on display, his hair falling effortlessly pretty down his shoulders while he palmed himself through the fitted black jeans he was wearing. He bit his bottom softly, silencing his groans as his large hands continued to massage and grab at himself through the thick material of his pants. His eyes never leaving his erection growing painfully against his jeans. There was really no rush or sense of urgency as his hands unbuckled his belt, then pulling his cock from the confines of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs.
God, he was massive. You felt a familiar tingling between your legs upon seeing him in all his glory. His cock looked angry, flushed a blush red at the tip and prominent veins running alongside of his shaft. He was already beading precum when his fist wrapped around the base of his cock, slapping it heavy against the palm of his other hand.
“I’m so fucking hard,” Eren groans out, his voice the perfect mix of baritone and velvet.
“Been thinking about fucking my hand all day.” He admits, his pointer finger rubbing circular motions around the head of his dick before pulling it away softly. A thin and clear string connecting from his digit to his thick cock.
Eren brings his hand to his lips to spit into it, coating his shaft in his warm lubricant. He lets out a breathy sigh once his hand wraps tightly around his cock, beginning to give himself long and languid strokes. He was really milking this-- really relishing himself and the pleasure. It was so fucking hot to watch. You knew what kind of content he did, but it had been a while since you’ve seen something of his-- but holy shit, you don’t remember him being quite this attractive.
As the video played on, his fist began to gradually pick up in pace until he was outright fucking his hips up into his hands, both overlapped and wrapped tightly around his shaft while his pelvis snapped up into the hole like a makeshift fleshlight. You could see that there was a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, reflecting off of the lighting coming in from the large window. Eren had stray strands of hair framing the front of his face, with every huff and moan the chocolate strands blew against his breaths. His breathing was beginning to pick up, his abs expanding and contracting with every inhale and exhale.
“Oh my fucking god, ‘m gonna cum-” Eren grunts. “I wanna fill someone’s hole up, wanna fill someone up so bad- fuck,”
Eren’s entire body tensed, his hands being the only things still moving-- still at their relentless pace. A small smile on his parted lips while his eyes shut tightly in raw pleasure. His head lolled back into his pillows and soon thick white ropes shot from his cock landing on his stomach, chest, and pants. The contrast between his milky white seed against his black jeans and dark tattoos was so prominent. Eren’s hands stilled, his cum running down his hands almost in slow motion. He lifted his head, peering down at the mess he had just made with lidded eyes. He almost looked like he wanted to be annoyed but the aftershocks of his orgasms were still hitting in waves.
“Shit, I was planning to wear these later.” Eren murmured, his attention turning to the camera beside his thigh before reaching over to shut the device off with a tired smirk.
You were soaking.
You grabbed your phone and quickly swiped up as your facial recognition registered your face. Your eyes shifted to the time at the top of your phone screen— 2 AM. Yelena was definitely asleep right now but at least she’d wake up and see your message first thing in the morning. As your fingers tapped at your screen, you kept asking yourself: ‘There’s nothing wrong with a little risk, right?’
“Hey, I know you’re asleep but.. I’m gonna take the offer.”
Three soft knocks sounded on your dressing room door.
“Excuse me? Miss (Name)?” A gentle voice called from behind the door. Your eyes never left the script in front of you, trying to soak in every single line before it was too late. Granted, you got the script days ago, but you could never be too sure. It’s always better to be safe than sorry, especially on a day like this.
“Come in!” You announce, eyes shifting from the script in front in your manicured hands into the mirror, your vision focusing on the attractive blonde man poking his head in your dressing room.
“Oh, hi. Come in, can I help you?” You smiled sweetly, turning your upper body around in your chair to look at him properly. The blond stepped into the room fully, taking a few strides towards you with his hand out.
“It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Armin, Eren’s manager.” He said, an inviting smile on his lips.
“Ah, it’s great to put a face to the name,” And a pretty face it was. “Hi, Mr. Arlert.” You greet and place your hand into his noticing that it was notably soft.
“You can call me Armin. Hah, it’s fine, really.” He says.
“Okay, Armin.” You correct yourself. “What brings you here?” You ask, both of your hands pulling away from each other.
“If you don’t mind following me? Eren would like to speak with you before we start shooting for the day.” Armin says and you suddenly feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach.
It felt like reality was finally catching up to you once his words registered with your ears. Nothing really clicked with you that morning. It felt like a normal day of shooting-- you woke up upon hearing your alarm, approximately three hours before you had to show up on set. You managed your time by answering emails, responding to DMs, and having a light breakfast that consisted of a fruit salad and a glass of orange juice. You enjoyed your extensive bath, your mind as clear as day as you rubbed the essential oils into your smooth skin. The car ride to set was peachy too, even up to the point where your makeup artist and hair stylist were working on your look— nothing registered with you until now.
You were watching Armin’s lips move but his words fell silent to your ears. The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat and a high pitched ringing that felt like it was coming from your eardrums. God, you felt sick to your stomach. This was really happening, you were about to film your first scene with Eren Yeager-- an attractive man feared and disliked-- hated even, by so many. What if he didn’t like you? What if he really was this massive douchebag people say he is? God, what if-
“Miss (Name)?” Armin called for you, ultimately pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Gosh, sorry-” You flushed. “You can call me (Name).” You say, earning a small chuckle from him.
“Uhm, care to follow me?” He beckons his head to the door.
“Sure- sure! Yeah, let’s go.” Your voice sounded cheerful but on the inside, you were well on your way to a panic attack.
You followed closely behind Armin, the both of you heading out of your dressing room and making your way down the bustling hallways of the studio. Your heart was pounding against your chest and ribcage the closer you both got to his dressing room. Your mind running in circles while your clammy hands and together your short silk robe. The material felt nice against your skin, cool and soft— somewhat calming your nerves in a way. Armin has been through this too many times to count, he could feel the nerves emitting from you. He didn’t blame you, it made perfect sense that you were anxious about everything going on. He would be too if he was in your position, a sweet rookie like yourself working with the top dog whose reputation was dirt. Not only that, this was going to be your first time shooting for BDSM after only doing vanilla for so long— you had a lot on your plate today and quite frankly Armin had a lot of respect for you. Some don’t even make it this far.
Armin’s walking finally comes to a halt upon getting to a certain door, knuckles knocked three times on the door.
“Eren, she’s here.” The blue eyed blond announces through the door before turning his attention back towards you.
“Go right in, he’s already expecting you.” Armin says, a weak smile on his lips. All you can do is nod, giving him a silent thank you before you watch him walk away in the other direction down the hallway, eventually disappearing once he turns a corner. You let out a deep and shaky breath before twisting the silver knob to push the door open.
You were met with the man you’ve heard so much about-- the man who you've only seen through a computer screen for so long, sitting in one of the two couches facing each other, midway through snorting a line of a white powdery substance.
“What the fuck did I say-” Eren began only to stop himself mid sentence upon realizing that it wasn’t who he thought it was, he face softening when he realizes that it was you.
“Oh, come in. Sit.” He ushers you over with a lazy hand. You quickly closed the door behind you and gingerly made your way over to him. His eyes never left your frame as you sat yourself right on the leather couch in front of him. You didn’t make eye contact, which was probably a terrible first impression but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it— not yet. Your head was down slightly, your hair framing your face while your eyes were locked on your twiddling fingers placed in your lap. Jesus, you could feel him staring a hole into you causing an unpleasant heat that burned dull on your cheeks and the tips of your ears.
On Eren’s end, his initial impression was he thought you were really fucking cute. Even cuter in person. He was quite the fan of yours, believe it or not. Why else would he have his people reach out to you? No offense, but he wouldn’t have gained much traction from working with you, he was already at the top. If anything he was doing you a favor, but really, Eren was doing this because he wanted to. He almost wished you didn’t walk on him like this, almost. To be honest, he stopped giving a fuck a long time ago.
There was a glass coffee table separating the two of you as you sat on different sofas. Your eyes couldn’t help but to wander to the table in front of you. Specifically to the small square mirror with two white lines on it, his credit card and a rolled up $100 dollar bill not too far from it. Your brows furrowed-- it wasn’t in anger or frustration. It was more so in worry. You weren’t dumb, you’ve been around the drug before— it was nearly impossible to not come into contact with the substance being in this industry. You didn’t like it, but you didn’t judge those who did.
Eren noticed your eyes, quickly stopping you from further judgement.
“Don’t look at this, look away.” He softly juts out his chin to the opposite direction of you. Oddly enough, his voice and words felt nurturing. He knows he shouldn’t be putting this stuff in his body, he knows and he doesn’t want you to watch him do it either. Regardless, you obeyed his wishes, giving him his privacy to do what he needed.
“I don’t do this shit often but everyone’s been fucking insufferable today. I can’t take it.” He adds.
You stayed silent, taking this time to take in your surroundings. His dressing room was really nice. Overall the room was dim in lighting and smelled of expensive cologne, though, that could’ve been him. The walls deep red in color, paintings hang up strategically on the walls, and large vanity mirrors on the wall lined with lightbulbs. It wasn’t silent either, soft music played from the stereo what you recognized to be Lucid Dreams by Juice WRLD.
“You left me falling and landing inside my grave,
I know that you want me dead,
I take prescriptions to make me feel a-okay,”
Eren’s voice was gentle to your ears hearing him sing along softly to the lyrics playing from the stereo. It was quite contradictory from his actions, doing something seemingly harmless like singing along to a song as if he’s not doing lines right in front of you. A few quiet moments went by as you sat in silence, your mind running rampant about so many things. Honestly your thoughts were drowning out the music and the soft sounds coming from Eren-- the tapping and sniffing.
It wasn’t until Eren whistled at you (not even attempting to call you by your name), that you were pulled out of your head. The sound made you turn your attention to him, the irritated look your features wore softened once your eyes landed on his face. He was truly a gorgeous man, the cameras didn’t do him justice. His hair was down much like the video you watched a few nights ago. Him being dressed in black seemed to make his eyes appear even greener than what they were.
“Thank you for agreeing to shoot with me.” He says in a very matter of fact tone.
“Oh, it’s no problem, thank you for having me.” You replied, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. It was quite for a moment, the silence making you fidget in your seat. Eren caught it.
“You look nervous.” Eren states. He almost looks— amused, like he wants to smirk but he’s holding back.
“Well, I am..” You mumble, your gaze falling back to your hands.
“Why?” The question was such a simple one on the surface, but it made you look at him like a deer caught in headlights. How were you supposed to answer that without offending him? Maybe you could tip toe around your answer, but you didn’t want to lie.
“It’s alright,” He chuckles leaning back on the couch. His thick thighs spread while his arms are resting on the back of the sofa. He finds your reaction cute. He knows exactly why you’re nervous to be in his presence. Eren is very self aware, he just wanted to see how you would react and it was satisfactory. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“You like what you do?” Eren asks, your brows furrowing once more at the question. He has to be fucking with you again, but his silence says otherwise.
“That’s a loaded question, you of all people should know that..” You say softly, peering up at him through the false lashes that sat pretty on your eyes. “Do you?” You ask and he shrugs before replying. His deadpan and nonchalant attitude showing.
“It pays the bills.” Eren replies. “So I can’t really complain, now can I?”
There was a short silence, the both of you looking at each other-- reality really settling with the both of you.
“Do you want me to go easy on you?”
“No, I can take what you give me.”
You were at Eren’s feet as he sat in a Victorian style sofa chair. Your feet were tucked under you, hands folded politely in your lap while your eyes looked up at the brunette in anticipation. Your soft body was dressed in a frilly yellow lingerie set-- the color complimenting your skin so well. Under the fluorescent stage lighting, you could visibly see your most intimate parts through the thin threaded material. It was merely decoration for the camera. If you were the present, the lingerie was the bow-- making everything a little more sweeter. The garter belt attaching to your white lace thigh high stockings pressed gently into your plush thighs causing the cutest muffin effect as you sat.
Your neck, that beautiful neck of yours sported a thick black collar with a silver chained leash attached to the D-ring in the center. It was quite the contrast so how soft and delicate looking your attire was.
Bare, small, submissive, are all words that described what you felt like in Eren’s presence right now. He was fully clothed, dressed in black slacks, expensive dress shoes and a white button down shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The first few buttons at the top had been unbuttoned, exposing his defined collarbones and toned chest. His hair now back in a messy bun, stray stands framing his face.
Eren leaned over in the chair, his elbows now resting on his knees as he’s face to face with you.
“Are you excited?” He asks, his so velvety against his tongue as he spoke. You nod as he brings hands up to your face, one cupping the back of your neck firmly while the other holds your jaw. The eye contact he was holding with you was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. His green eyes were so fucking intense, you were almost certain he could read your thoughts. Eren smiles at you, a genuine smile before his eyes revert to your lips. He wondered if you wore this cherry red lipstick on purpose. It almost tickled him knowing that his fat cock was going to be the reason why these plump lips your makeup artist took so long are on look a fucking disaster within the next few minutes.
Eren places his thumb on the corner of your mouth, dragging it against your bottom lip ultimately smearing your lipstick. His eyes flicker back to yours and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. He’s so enamored with how pretty you look right in this moment. You have a different kind of beauty but it’s beauty nonetheless. He can see the fascination, wonder and excitement twinkling in your eyes, something he admittedly hasn’t seen, dare he say, in ever. This is you right now. You’re not acting, you don’t have on a persona, you’re not acting for the camera. You’re just being you and Eren found it fucking gorgeous. Fuck the script, this was just going to be you and him filming for the camera.
“You’re a fucking gem.” Eren whispers. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” He says, eyes still locked onto yours.
“That’s not in the script.” You thought as you tried your best to not let the hesitation show on your face. You had to keep it professional for the camera. It's okay to completely go off the script sometimes, right? Maybe he forgot his lines. That’s what you’re telling yourself at least.
“And what do we say to compliments?” He asks,
“Thank you.” You reply, but you’re not expecting a hard strike to the cheek from the palm of his hand. Your head now turned at the side from the force of his hand. You can already feel tears stinging at your eyes but you couldn’t cry yet, not so early on.
“Say sorry.” Eren orders.
“I’m sorry.” You whimper, the sting still ringing throughout the skin on your cheek.
“Hm,” He chuckles in an almost condescending way. “Very obedient, aren’t we?” He tilts his head, a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips as he looks at you.
“Do you trust me?” He asks, one of his hands finding the leash around your neck, wrapping the chain around his knuckles slowly.
“Yes.” You reply without hesitation.
“Yes, what?” He tugs harshly on the leash causing you to nearly fall over face first in his crotch. This isn’t scripted, Eren is just having fun at this point. He really wants to see how you’re going to address him.
“Yes- yes daddy!” You yelped, your cheeks burning with embarrassment realizing exactly what you had just said. Eren chuckled, daddy huh? Alright. He could work with it, he’ll be your daddy but not before he teased you about it.
“Daddy? You know that’s fucking gross, right?” Eren teases in a harsh tone. “What? Daddy didn’t give you enough attention at home?” He continues to dig into you, your face burning in humiliation as you’re suddenly more aware of everyone’s presence on the set.
“That’s alright. You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” Eren asks with a nod, almost like he’s answering for you. You mirror his motions with a mindless nod to your head.
“Use your words, you’re a big girl.”
“Yes, I will! I’ll be really good-” You begin to babble but he stops you with a firm hold on your jaw, your lips puckering slightly from the pressure of his hand.
Fuck, he’s so pretty looking down on you like this. You can already feel yourself leaking and he’s only degraded you in a way no man has ever. You know that once you stand there’s going to be a wet patch at the seat of your panties, you could already feel the coolness of the spot from the air conditioner wisping between your thighs.
“Open.” He says and you as ordered. You watch his teeth graze his bottom lip before they purse and there’s a warm glob of spit sitting in your mouth.
“Hold that for me.” Eren smiles.
“Cut!” The director yells, pulling everyone’s attention including yours and Eren’s. You’re suddenly looking at all the camera crew, the makeup artists and support on the other side of the room.
“Yeager, stick to the script!” The director says, he looks extremely frustrated as he slaps his hand against the clipboard in his other.
“The script fucking blows. We’re not doing it.” Eren says, earning a few chuckles from the others. His bluntness surprised you but it seemed to be a normal occurrence to everyone else.
“Make sure you keep that part in so they know this shit is real.” Eren adds before standing up from his seat on the sofa, unbuckling his belt.
“Alright, do what you want. It ought to be better than this damn masterpiece.” The older man mumbles before sitting back down in his chair, his hand over his mouth as he slouched back into his seat. “Action!”
By now Eren’s attention was already back on you, looking down at you with hungry eyes. It was impossible to miss the outline of his cock as it was angrily pressed against his slacks. Your heartbeat was pounding against your chest when his nimble fingers began to unbutton his slacks then pulling down the zipper. The entire time his eyes never left yours, his hand going into his boxer briefs to pull out his hard cock. It stood at attention, bobbing under its own weight while the head was drolly with precum. Your mouth was watering but you knew in the back of your mind that was no way he was fitting all that down your throat. Your hands were making fists on his trousers while you chewed at your bottom lip, waiting— just waiting for him to do anything.
Eren grabbed his cock by the base, lightly slapping his shaft against your cheeks and lips, he was liking the way your face scrunched up cutely upon the contact. Gentle slapping sounded every time his heavy cock bounced on your soft cheeks.
“Say ah,” Eren’s pointer, middle and ring fingers are soon shoved all in mouth, forcing them down your throat as far as they could go-- finger fucking your mouth. You felt your throat clenching then releasing every time he shoved them further, your eyes watering rolling to the back of your head at the unpleasant feeling of heaving.
“Good fuckin’ girl. Yeah, gag on ‘em.. So pretty.” He coos sweetly while you struggle to take his fingers. His hand is wrapped around his cock, rubbing at a leisurely pace. It felt good, but not as good as your lips were going to feel wrapped around him. He made sure to pull and twist at your tongue, eliciting an incoherent whine from you.
Eren replaced his fingers with his cock, placing the tip at your smeared red lips earning a tiny kiss and a soft kitten lick from you. His hand found the top of your head as your tongue gave the underside of his shaft a long stripe up. Your wet and warm muscle flattened out to get as much coverage as you could. You could feel the ridges from the veins on his shaft massage your tongue as you made your way up— swirling the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. Eren sucked in a sharp breath when you finally took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down trying your best to take him whole.
Your attempt was cute, he loved seeing your pretty lips take him as much as you could. In no means were you doing bad, but he needed more. You were in his world after all and what better welcome than to fuck your face?
Eren took off his belt. The leather sliding through every belt loop with ease and a soft clink of metal. He wrapped both ends around his knuckles twice before placing the thick strap behind your neck— pulling hard on both sides to force your mouth down on his cock fully. The second he hit the back of your throat, your hands flew to his pelvis, clawing into the sliver of exposed skin showing on his hipline as his cock made the deepest parts of your throat its new home. Eren could feel your throat contracting tightly around him as you retched.
“If you throw up on my dick, I swear to god I’ll fuck you up.” He gritted through his teeth, his hips beginning to slam into your abused mouth. The sounds coming from you were sickening: whining, gagging and choked sobs while your eyes pricked with tears. You were doing your best really, attempting to breathe through your nose but you couldn’t even catch your breath from how rough and relentless his pace was. The grip Eren had on his belt got tighter, so much so that he was losing blood circulation in his hands-- his fingertip turning red and losing their feeling.
“Holy shit,” Eren groaned, watching himself disappear into your mouth with every single thrust— his balls were slapping hard against your chin. The belt in hand was soon discarded and tossed somewhere off to the side.
Eren grabbed the base of his shaft to quickly remove himself from your lips-- you immediately began gasping for air, cough and sputtering a mixture of spit and precum. God, you were so messy and Eren loved it.
“So messy,” Eren teases, prodding his cock back up to your mouth. He’s almost rubbing himself against your lips like he’s applying lip gloss.
“Wanna make daddy cum?” He asks, a smile decorating his lips as he looked down on you. You already looked fucked out and you had two more scenes to go. Your lipstick was smeared awfully-- some of it even coloring his dick red, eyeliner was streaming down your cheeks due to your tears, and your lashes were barely hanging on.
“Yes, please.” You knew that you sounded really pathetic right now begging for him.
“Yeah?” Another harsh slap connects with your face.
“Fuck-! Yes daddy!” You plead.
“Mm, I know you,” Eren chuckles, “Because you’re my bitch.”
Eren has a firm hand on the back of your neck as his hips slam into your face. He’s in complete ecstasy, his brows furrowed and eyes shut tightly while he’s telling you the filthiest things you’ve ever heard in your life. How he was going to fill your throat up with so much cum that you’d be tasting him for the next month and how you won’t be able to speak for weeks after he’s done using your mouth. It all went straight to your cunt, you were beyond soaked. The lacey material of your panties has done nothing but make it even more obvious that you were ruining them. You felt your slick down your thighs. You’re still struggling but you’re doing better, that is until you feel your nose being clamped by two of his fingers— and now, you genuinely can’t breath.
“What’s the matter? Can’t breathe?” The faux concern coming from his tone was so patronizing.
“Only good girls who let me use their throat as my cum dump get that privilege.” Eren says.
You knew he was close from the way his thighs began to twitch and how his hips began to sputter in rhythm. Eren kept chanting ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ as he continued his pounding on your poor mouth. He found your expression priceless as you were on the verge of passing out. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your skull just letting him use you. He had to give it to you, he was impressed with how well you were handling him and his roughness. This whole time he’s been cautious, always looking for your nonverbal safeword— the three taps to his leg but he was never met with them. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your brain, but you were enjoying yourself despite you feeling lightheaded. You trusted Eren, despite all the rumors and he sensed that. He appreciated it as a dom. Usually he had to be high to film, finding that this industry was sucking the life out of him, but with you it was different.
The familiar knot in the pit of Eren’s stomach was beginning to uncoil. He wasn’t stupid, timing was everything and with that his hips stilled-- your nose buried in his pubic hair while he unloaded his cum down into your throat with a loud groan. The sensation of his warm liquid trickling down almost tickled. It felt like he came in buckets, constantly pumping his nut into your stomach.
Eren grabbed a handful of your hair to pull you off of him, his cock hanging heavy between his thighs. You’re still catching your breath when he gives you a pat on the head when the director yells cut.
“You handled yourself pretty well, I’m impressed.” He says and for some reason, that makes you really happy.
The rough material of the beige twine ropes was digging into your soft skin so deliciously— tight enough to cause slight discomfort but not enough to hurt. The entire time Eren handled you with care, asking if things were too tight or too loose as the rope began to form intricate shapes against your nude torso. Soon your calves were touching the back of your thighs and your arms tied behind your back, the thick ropes holding you together in this unnatural position like glue as you laid on your back, completely immobile. The silk sheets underneath you felt so cool against your flushed skin. Your sight locked on the various toys beside your body: a small tube of lube, a wand, a glass dildo that looked way smaller than Eren, and a silver buttplug with a sparkling jewel decorating the end. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a skinny red candle, a lighter and a small bucket of ice. The brunette wanted to take his time with you— your body was a toy right now and he wanted to play with it, especially with you all tied up and pretty like this. All for him. It was your first time doing bondage, he wanted to go all out for you.
Eren stood next to the bed with a long black whip in hand very reminiscent of the belt he used earlier. He was still dressed in his business casual outfit, only this time you were the one completely nude. You looked helpless laying there, looking up at him with pleading eyes. To Eren, it felt like your body was just begging for it and he was more than happy to give you what you needed-- no, what you deserved. Without warning, Eren landed a hard smack right across your tits with the leather. You cried out in pain, your skin was flaring up in irritation almost immediately.
“Say thank you.” Eren says, whipping your chest again with a simple flick of his wrist.
“T-thank you-!” You sputter out, the blood under your skin rising to create a deep shade of red.
“What was that?” He asked, this time landing his hit on your inner thigh.
“‘M sorry- Thank you, daddy.” You corrected yourself but it didn’t seem to matter because you were met with several more whips after that until you were beet red. All his hits varied in different places: your chest, stomach, and thighs. Your entire body was stinging and on fire at this point.
Eren was soon at the foot of the bed, grabbing a hold of your thighs to drag you down closer to him— your ass almost hanging off the edge of the bed. He wasted little time getting on his knees, his green eyes locked on your neglected cunt. The bondage had you spread out real nice for him, your glistening pussy on full display for him. He was staring and it made you squirm as you were starting to feel self conscious under his gaze. But fuck, he couldn’t help it. You glistened so beautifully under the studio lighting, your clit almost an angry red in color while you visibly clenched around nothing. Eren couldn’t wait to fuck you stupid, his cock was rock hard already. He had virtually no refractory period. Eren took two of his fingers and spread your labia open, almost mewling in the way that your slick connected from lip to lip. You were impossibly wet.
“Look at this pretty cunt,” Eren marveled, taking his free hand to ghost tiny circles around your clit.
“P-please, I need..” You trailed off.
“What do you need from me, pumpkin?” He slides a single finger into your throbbing hole, pumping it slowly as he watched your little fried brain try to piece together a sentence from in between your legs.
“Anything, ‘wanna cum real bad, daddy.” You whimpered, feeling his finger curl slightly to hit that spongy part deep inside of you. You swore you would have come then and there but he removed the digit from you. Of course, you whined in frustration at the lost earning yourself a raised brow from Eren. He didn’t seem to appreciate that and gave your cunt a slap hard enough to hard, most of the impact went straight to your clit absorbing the impact.
“Don’t go bratty on me now. You were being so good to me, ‘would hate to punish you.” Eren chastised. He’s not looking at you, but instead grabbing for the lube and butt plug on the bed beside you.
“I don’t even get a sorry? Do you even deserve to cum?” His words make your heart drop because you know he’s not fucking with you. Eren doesn’t even notice you panic, he’s too busy opening up the tube and squirting a generous amount into his fingertips.
“‘M so sorry- so sorry, please-!” Your words are cut off by a sharp inhale when an unfamiliar coolness touches your tightest hole. Eren is prodding a fingertip at your ass, the intrusion not going past his first knuckle. He’s gauging your reaction. He knows you’ve never done anal before, but you did say you were open to anything, signed the contract and everything-- and that’s what he was doing.
“No, not there..” You whine, face burning in embarrassment.
“Why not? You a cute little ass, let me make it real pretty for the camera.” Eren clicks his tongue, head beckoning over to the camera crew filming.
“Don’t you wanna be my prettiest whore?” He asks. “Hm?” His finger is at the second knuckle now.
“Yes! Yes, I do-!” You yelped as his digit finally bottomed out.
His finger felt really foreign inside of you. There was an odd pressure you’ve only ever felt maybe one or twice in your free time. It was oddly satisfying the more he pumped in and out of you. Once Eren felt like you got used to one finger, he added another, a desperate mewl escaping your lips. Even though your right ring was slick with lube, the stretch still stung. Eren’s finger scissored, twisted and pumped into you with languid motions. To be frank, the way your ass squeezed around his fingers was making his cock twitch. He knew he was leaking, he could feel the wet spot. Eren wasn’t planning on full anal today, but he might just have to fuck this tight little hole with how it was making his cock jump. He’ll think about, right now though, you’re ready to take this plug up your ass. He pulled his digits from you, taking the plug and lathering the shiny silver with the lubricant before placing it back to your puckering hole.
“It's probably gonna,” Eren started, the toy pushing into your ass. “-hurt a little.” He finishes when he hears you nearly wail once the widest part of the toy stretches you out. The rest was easy to take, or at least Eren thought so. The worst way over, now he was watching you shrink back around the smallest part of the plug— the pink jewel sitting between your plump cheeks cutely. Eren gave you a soft pat on the side of your thigh before standing and making his way to the side of the bed where the nightstand was.
You watched anxiously as he seemed to be starting with the ice first. He picked up the first cube that sat on top of the pile with a mini metal tong before he turned his attention back to you. You bit your bottom lip as he brought the cube up to one of your nipples— inhaling sharply as the coldness of the cube came into contact with your sensitive bub, hardening it even further. Eren took his free hand to give attention to your other breast, massaging and tugging at your other buds with his relatively warm hand. He alternated between your breasts with the ice before he began to make his way to other territories. The coolness felt amazing against your skin due to the previous whips that left you on fire. The ice traced the insides of the shapes on your torso before he went to your thighs and finally your cunt that had been on fire ever since you began filming.
Eren slipped the ice past your lips, rubbing it gently on your throbbing clit. The sensation was something you’ve never felt before having never experimented at all with temperature play until now. It was making your head spin, you swore you could feel the heat from your pussy melt the ice upon contact. Eren found your squirming and whimpering cute when he held the ice on your clit a little too long, to the point where it was beginning to burn. Your little sigh of relief when he let up tickled him. Some parts of your body felt nearly numb from the frozen cube, yet you found yourself missing the feeling when he stopped.
Next was the heat, his hands replacing the ice with the candle and lighter. Eren started the flame and held it to the wic of the candle until it was lit, placing the lighter back on the nightstand before turning his attention back to you. He’s holding the flame dangerously close to your skin, it almost hurts but he’s dragging the flame along parts of your body so fast you can’t really register if it actually does burn or not. Right now it feels pleasurable, especially coming off of the ice Eren just put on you. The only way you can describe the feeling is if a bunch of tiny suns begin kissing your body all over. When it feels like it’s beginning to hurt, it disappears into thin air only for the sensation to return immediately to another spot, following the trail of Eren’s doing.
It wasn’t until you felt a hot sting drip against your nipple that you whimpered out at the discomfort. Eren smiled upon seeing the hot substance begin to decorate your skin, taking the time to make a heart shape around your areola. Drip after drip settling onto your flesh as liquid and soon drying back to it’s hardened wax state due to the drop in temperature. Your head was spinning feeling yourself becoming drunk on the feeling of the wax burn your skin. The drops were making their way down your body, drizzling past your torso and landing on the insides of your thighs— some dropping dangerously close to your pussy causing you to close your thighs on instinct. You should have known better because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under. Eren didn’t say anything, only forcing your knees apart with ease before he settled between your thighs. His fingers in one hand held your pussy open in a V-shape, while the other held the candle at an angle right above it. You watched with furrowed brows as the wax began to form beads under the flame.
“This is your second time, pumpkin. I was being nice the first time.” It was obvious that he was mocking you, his tone along with the smile on his lips gave it all away. It felt like everything was in slow motion as your eyes were locked in on tiny beads of wax drizzling the length of the thin candle. With one simple flick, about four drops of hot wax landed on your cunt— one even making a perfect bullseye onto your sensitive clit.
“Fuck!” You screamed out in agony, eyes shut tight as you squirmed under his gaze. Your hands were behind your back were digging into your own flesh as well as the bedsheets underneath you.
You didn’t even have enough time to recover before you felt something cold and hard on your weeping entrance, slipping between your labia with ease due to your wetness and the added lube. When you opened your eyes, you looked in between your legs and was met with the sight of Eren pushing that same glass dildo into you. The coolness felt so incredibly soothing. Eren really knew what he was doing, there was a pattern— pain, pain, pleasure. Maybe it wasn’t always in that pattern, but it was a never ending cycle and left you wanting more.
Eren pushed the dildo into your sopping cunt, eliciting a loud mewl from you. Right off the bat, the toy was coaxing you into your first orgasm. He pushed the dildo into you with quick speed angling it so that it was hitting a particular deep within you and was making you see stars. You were a little taken back at just how fast you came, your walls tightening around the toy as your high took over your body. Your whole body wracked as you cried out Eren’s title, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he didn’t stop. He kept pumping the toy into you at an even harsher pace.
You couldn’t comprehend the intensity as you felt his warm tongue begin to flick at your sensitive slit, soon making out with your pussy with such passion you would think he’s in love. Eren was only thinking about how you tasted remarkably sweet while you were babbling for him to stop, to slow down, for a fucking break. It felt so good, too good— so much so that it was painful. With his lips attached to you plus the toy still working in and out of you another high was forming a ball in your core quick. Eren’s incisors gently nipped at your clit a couple times before sending you over the edge for the second time within five minutes. You were starting to see white spots, choked sobs coming from the back of your throat as your high washed over your body in a giant wave. It felt like a dull tear ripping through your lower half, spreading like a wildfire throughout the rest of your body.
“No- no more,” Your voice was shot. Eren only looked at you from in between your thighs with a small smile.
“No more?” He grabbed for the wand, turning it on the lowest setting. “I saved the best for last and you wanna quit on me?” His voice was barely registering with your ears over how hard you’re concentrating on the low buzzing of the white wand in Eren’s hands.
“I can’t take another— need a break,” You were shaking your head, eyes becoming heavy almost seeing tunnel vision.
“You’ll take what I give you.” Was all he said before setting the head of the toy directly onto your clit.
“Eren-!” Your hips bucked and squirmed in an attempt to get away from his assault.
“Who?” He turns the setting up to the middle, pressing harder onto your poor bud. It hurts, it hurts so fucking bad but your hole is leaking and fluttering around nothing begging for anything. There’s no way he was going to make you cum again after having two orgasms back to back. There’s no way.
“Oh my god, oh my god-” Your thighs were closing around his hand,
“Not my name either,” Eren gritted through his teeth, starting to become irritated. “Your brain that fried already fuck-whore?” He asks, giving you a hard slap to the side of your thigh before prying them open with one hand.
Eren quickly adjusts the setting to the highest possible, studying your face as it contorts in— well, he’s not sure if it’s pain or pleasure. He can only assume both as tears begin to spill from your eyes continuously begging for him to stop, that you couldn’t take any more. After about a minute were beginning to feel lightheaded, your body betraying you as you miraculously felt another high build inside the pit of your stomach. Eren slipped in his middle and ring finger into your hole, curving them slightly and began finger fucking you into your third orgasm. You nearly squirted on Eren’s face but he moved out of the way last second. Instead your release soaked some parts of his white button down, your juices making it transparent and stick to his skin. Eren removed his fingers from you, turning off the wand before giving your pussy one good slap.
God, you don’t think you fucking take anymore. Your cunt was still over stimmed and leaking, there was no reset in between this scene and the previous like there was with the first two. Eren only flipped your tied up body over, your ass in the air while your face was buried into the soft sheets. By now, Eren had already stripped from his clothing, his big cock springing from its confinement once his bottoms were pulled off. He nearly moaned at the cold air hitting his sensitive member. Eren’s big hands groped and massaged at your ass. The moans you let out were heavenly urging him to keep going. His hands were so warm and fluid on your skin, your eyes closed in bliss as you relished in the feeling.
“Beg for my cock, sweetheart. Make it pretty.” His hand comes down hard on your ass, making you yelp and jump. You felt the outline of his hand burn into your skin.
“Please fuck me, ‘want it so bad.” Your voice is slightly muffled from your cheek being pressed up against the mattress. Your lips were formed into a pout due to the pressure on your cheek.
“I didn’t say stop.” You hear him say from behind you, another hard slap landing on your cheek.
“Daddy, please. ‘Been waiting so long, ‘m gonna go crazy,” You whimpered attempting to press your ass against him.
“Gonna go crazy because you don’t have my cock in you yet?” You heard Eren chuckle from behind you and you can feel him rub the tip against your slit. You almost forget how big he is until now, he’s a least an inch wider than your hole. You’re almost scared of his size but also so eager to finally feel him.
“Yes-!” You nodded frantically against the sheet. Eren pressed himself into you, letting out a low ‘shit’ once he’s past you hilt.
“This cunt is so fucking— tight.” Eren groaned, watching himself sink into you slowly. He was splitting your poor cunt open, even after all the prep nothing could have prepared you for him. The stretch was uncomfortable, but you felt the veins running along his shaft were massing your velvety walls easing the discomfort.
“‘s so big,” You breathed out, your hands trying to grasp onto anything as they were still tied behind you. For some reason it looked cute to Eren watching you struggle from behind, your little hands begging to be held as he sinks into you fully. He took a moment to gather himself before he began to move.
He started off slow, his hips snapping into your painfully hard yet so slow as he adored how you wept for him. Your ass looked so gorgeous with the pink jewel sitting perfectly between your cheeks. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix with every thrust and you were positive that the hold he had on your hips was going to leave a bruise. Eren was growing impatient, bored even, at the slow pace he had set. He wanted to fuck you stupid, he wanted the only thing running through that pretty little head of yours to be how hard he’s ramming himself into you. Eren pace picked up gradually and soon he was pounding into you at a ridiculous speed. The sounds of your whining, he grunts and skin slapping filled the room. You couldn’t think straight,
Eren grabbed a handful of your hand, yanking you up and back to his chest causing an unnatural curve in your back while his breath was hot on your ear.
“Tell me how it feels, cupcake. Tell your daddy how good his cock is making you feel.” He says against your ear.
“It feels- ‘s fucking good-!” You manage to choke out despite how hard he was ramming his hips into you. Your tits were bouncing every time his pelvis hit your ass. Eren brought his other hand up to your neck and applied pressure. His hand was stopping the blood flow to your head as his fingers were on the carotid artery in your neck. The proper way of choking a partner. Everything felt delicious, the lightheadedness just added to the intensity.
“‘M gonna cum- please let me,” You wailed, his cock was brushing up against the perfect spot to get you to your release. You were so close, you needed that extra push.
“Cream on him dick, baby. Go ahead it's okay.” Eren wraps an arm around your midsection to hug you close before he starts to fuck into you like his life depended on it. He was going to be forever imprinted inside of you after this. You began to contract around his shaft, your fourth and final high overtaking your body. A weak and pathetic cry escapes your lips when he lets your body fall face first back into the mattress. Your brain is mush right now and you haven’t got the slightest clue where you are, nor do you care.
“Holy shit, I’m gonna cum.” Eren gawks as he quickly adjusts his position. He’s still taking you from behind, but now one of his legs is extended over your body so that his foot is heavy on your head. You’re just laying there limp and taking it. You don’t have the energy to speak but you’re just praying he cums in you, you want to feel him fill you up to the brim.
“Fuck yeah-” His hips begin to falter. “Shit! Fucking take all of it you bitch,” Eren groans as he shoots his load into your messy cunt. He ruts into you a few more times before he slips his softening cock out of you, a thin line of his cum dripping out of you. Eren is sure to spread your cheeks as you push his seed out of you for the camera.
“Cut! Good job you too!”
When everything was said and done, you’re helped out of your bondage, given a robe and escorted back to your dressing room with some set crew. They made light conversation with you, saying how well you and Eren worked together. That there was some chemistry there and it was definitely going to be a hit amongst fans. You settled yourself down on one of the couches when the crew left you alone. You had already removed your train wreck of makeup, now it was time to have a moment to yourself. Everything was serene as your hands ran gently over your arms and legs, seeing the imprints left by the ropes onto your skin. There were so many thoughts running through your head but they were soon silenced by a few heavy knocks. You winced as you stood up, a dull aching very prominent deep in your core, the roughness from filming was really catching up to your body fast. You made your way over to the door, twisting the silver knob and pulling back to be met with Eren.
“Can I take you out sometime?”
© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.
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good little girl
✘ eren jaeger x reader
request. anonymous — bully eren being a MEGA pervert to the reader👉🏽👈🏽 yk the common high school bully shit. the reader is a nerd and eren secretly wants to fuck the shit out of her. so when she comes to his house to work on a group assignment that exactly what he does.. can u make SUPER nasty (mayyybbeee some fluff at the end)
word count. 1.5k+
content warnings. unestablished relationship, college au, bully! eren, mean dom! eren, slight dub con, voyeurism, masturbation, corruption kink, dirty talk, slight degradation, unprotected sex, praise kink, overstimulation, enemies to lovers?, not proofread.
Seeing Eren Jaeger always guaranteed a bad day ahead.
Where do you even start? He had a terrible way with words and was even worse when it came to his mannerisms, but oddly enough everyone seemed to get along with him just fine. Everyone except you.
‘He’s crude, and rough, and too damn loud.’ You’d tell your friends. ‘I hate him.’
Your relationship with him was never kept a secret, never hidden behind closed doors. They’ve seen him corner you in corridors and try to sneak pictures under your skirt. They’ve seen you argue and slap him at parties when he’d make snarky comments on your outfit or your dates. And as a result, everyone knew just how much you loathed Eren Jaeger. So you can imagine their sudden pique in interest when you were assigned to work with him for your midterm partnered project. Even more so with the fact that you were required to meet up with him privately to work on it.
“This skirt is cute,” he smirks, moving to tug at the hem teasingly. You’re quick to shuffle away from his touch. “You tryna seduce me or something?”
“Come on, don’t be so prude.”
Right now, it’s as clear as day; Eren takes great pleasure in making you squirm. He always has. Embarrassing you in front of other people and seeing those cute, contorted expressions on your face makes him feel so powerful. What did you even expect, coming over to his dorm room in that cute getup? The short skirt, the bare legs...you should have known.
Maybe you’re just so fucking innocent. So unaware. He had a funny look in his eye the second you stepped through the front door, and now you’re paying the price. You’re pretty sure you’ve stopped breathing at this point, and your heart beats rapidly against your chest as Eren’s hand sits on the supple flesh of your thigh. He inches under your skirt with practised precision — but right now you feel way too exposed to be comfortable.
So why do you like it?
“You’re wet,” he says matter-of-factly. The pads of his fingers ghost over your covered pussy. “And warm.”
You’re stuck like a deer in headlights, unable to move or push him away as he starts pressing a little more insistently. One circle, two circles, three circles, pushing the fabric of your soaked panties against your clit with every movement. To say you like the friction would be an understatement.
“You’re quieter than usual,” he quips, pulling you from your thoughts. “I kinda like it. Seeing you get all worked up over something so small…you a virgin or something?”
There he goes again. You swallow thickly, finally working up the courage to push his hand away and press your thighs together. “I just hate the feeling of your hands on me, Jaeger.”
So much for that.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he groans, rubbing between your swollen lips and coating his fingers with your slick. His rough calluses drag against your clit, and the throb that ebbs across your hips has you bucking shamelessly against his palm. “You like that?”
Nudging you forward to make space for himself, he leans down until he’s face to face with the heat that radiates from your pussy. “I bet you do,” his tone is breathless, rushed, messy. As he runs one hand across the globe of your ass, his other hand reaches down to wrap around the thickness of his shaft.
It’s a simple enough demand, but it doesn’t fail to send warmth rushing through your body as embarrassment takes over your initial excitement. Had you known Eren was going to mess around with you just like he did any other time, you would have been a little more reluctant to agree to his advances.
But over time you’ve come to learn that right now, he is probably the most unpredictable person you’ve ever met in your life. Honestly? You shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe that’s what prompts you to slip one hand between your legs for him. As a shaky exhale leaves your lips, you close your eyes and try to enjoy the feeling of your fingertips trailing along the inside of your bare thighs.
Eren hums with approval. He clearly likes this little display you’re making of yourself. And although you hate to admit it, his reaction spurs you on like nothing else. You can practically feel the heat of his gaze focused on your every move; he’s probably watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate to hold onto some sort of friction. Or the way your fingers dance across your naval, moving closer and closer to the wetness that sits between your legs.
Oh, how you wish he would run his warm tongue where you need him most, so he can taste just how desperate you are to feel him inside you. When you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze once more, his eyes are dark. “What are you waiting for?”
The green in his orbs swim with a hunger you’ve never seen in him before, and having you so vulnerable and spread out before him is the most sinful temptation. You reach your fingers up to slick them with your tongue, coating them in spit as Eren groans in satisfaction at the sight. If he wants to watch that badly, you’ll just have to give him a show you know he’ll never forget.
You touch yourself with experience, triggering the parts of you that have you melting into the plush leather of his couch. You mimic what you’d like him to do to you - the way he’d part your folds and massage your velvety walls with his fingers, knuckles deep as he’d apply pressure to your swollen clit.
“Good girl,” he says, voice heavy and thick with arousal. “Just like that.”
The pleasure is enough to distract you from the remnants of embarrassment that linger in the back of your mind, you think. But the thrill of knowing he is enjoying this as much as you are is sending you down an unwanted spiral of lust, the feeling of your orgasm gaining on you the further you go. He watches your body roll in tandem with your movements, lips parted and lids heavy.
“You want me to touch you?” He sighs.
You nod your head, whining as he gets up on his knees and pulls you in by your hips. The cushioned couch sinks under the weight of your shifting bodies. His hand, still covered in the wet shine of your arousal, reaches under your body to grab your breast.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, lips against the shell of your ear. “One minute you’re pushing me away and calling me all sorts of names, the next you’ve got your ass up like a bitch in heat waiting for me to fuck you? What’s that about?”
You can feel the throbbing head of his cock push past your folds, slipping between your tight walls with ease. He fits so deep, so perfectly inside you, and his balls rest heavy and warm against your sloppy cunt. “Not that I’m complaining.” He releases the sigh he’d been holding in his chest, feeling your walls ripple around him as he rocks into you.
You can’t hold out any longer.
His hips are so strong, so powerful. You feel his thighs tense with every thrust as they slap against the back of your own, his thick warm cock hitting all the right places inside you. You’re sure you’ve become delirious at this point, unable to form any coherent sentences save for the hoarse moans that pour from your lips.
He leans over you and wraps a hand around your throat; the weight of his body on your back pushes you further against the leather of the couch. There’s just enough pressure behind his touch to elicit a short gasp of excitement from you.
“You never were innocent,” he says, voice shaking from the force of his thrusts. “Acting all high and mighty, trying to deny that you wanted this as much as I did. But you fucking love this, don’t you?” You drown in the sound of his heavy breaths, the feeling of his warm tongue on your skin, his scent and his body, becoming completely surrounded by his very being.
Your first orgasm comes crashing down too quickly for you to even think about giving a warning, and you find yourself clenching desperately around his girth as pleasure rips through your body. His chest collides with your back, skin to skin, his deep moans floating through your head.
“Good fucking girl,” he purrs. You can feel his voice rumble against your body as he hooks an arm under your chest, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
It’s too hot.
“Eren,” you whine, trying to grasp at his hand as he slides down your stomach and starts rubbing fervent circles against your throbbing clit. “Stop, I can’t—”
“You wanna cum again? You’re so fuckin’ greedy,”
Every nerve in your body burns with each drag of his cock inside you; the overstimulation that dances from the tips of your fingers to your toes has become too much to bear. What, with your warm juices trickling down your thighs, the brush of thick hair on Eren’s naval against the curve of your ass, the harsh grip of his fingers pressing prints into your body...it’s too much.
But it’s so good. So, so good.
You can’t hold out any longer. But a big part of you is dying to try.
welcometotheclubhoe © 2021 . do not repost.
tag list: @vrotbh , @xiaoli-i , @wasabito , @ohnococo , @6ruel , @crapimahuman , @kawaii-angelanne , @littlegianttangerine , @izuwumidoryia , @megaelisabeth , @armins-bowl-cut , @empressackerman , @shisoaya , @this-precious-moment , @jeanbabygirl , @nneov , @bagsyy , @akashigf , @shoto-daddy , @osmosly , @swagtasticmarv , @samauhhh , @eternallyvenus , @erenstellar , @prxtttguardian , @atinyarmyx1 , @junisfics , @pinkchanelbag , @bakhoe , @namrekcaivel , @smoochiesdiarie , @mugurumx , @japanesevenom , @emomanswhore , @yumekosgamblingroom , @chittaphon96 , @erenjeagersslut , @definitetrashlord
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have you ever read a fic you absolutely adored but couldn’t find it again? then this blog is for you!
here we will post your your message asking for that one fic that got away so the community can help and link you to the story you were looking for! this is a blog where the reader community can help each other.
consider following this blog + reblogging this post so more people know about this initiative <3
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telling them you’re in the mood [a tiktok prank] ft. eren, armin, mikasa, connie, jean, sasha, levi, hange, erwin, reiner, annie, porco, pieck and yelena
♡ — tags: humour, suggestive, gn!reader
♡ — a/n: request by @dinxm!! set in a modern au, all of them are +18
♡ — masterlist
eren — “say less”. he literally will drop whatever he’s doing and jump straight into your arms. choose where to tell him this because he will take you in that very same spot.
armin — “mood? uh- mood for what?” he asks. “the mood, baby,” you wink. his cheeks turn red but he walks to you. the camera is now covered but your followers hear him kissing your cheek and: “i’m always in the mood for you.”
mikasa — widens her eyes but then softly nods. “okay. sure. give me a minute though,” she says as she stands up and leaves the room to prepare herself.
connie — “fuck yessss!,” he cheers as he dramatically pushes everything he had on the table to the floor to make space.
jean — blushes for a moment but then clears his throat, calming himself down and opens his arms for you. “then come here, baby. i’ve got you,” he winks, his hands gesturing for you to come closer.
sasha — “wait! wait, just a minute,” she says as she quickly tries to finish her snack. “baby, i will be there in no time i swear!” she promises with a mouth full of food.
levi — “turn that damn camera off and come here,” he says, holding out his hand as he rolls his eyes. you’ve never thrown your phone away so fast.
hange — “yeah?,” they ask excitedly. “yeah? you silly goose, you’re so silly-”. they don’t understand why you just banned them from the bedroom.
erwin — “what mood? snack mood? movie mood?”. you wink at him and he raises his eyebrows in understandment. then he puts his hand out for you and when you take it, he guides you until you’re sitting on his lap.
reiner — it takes him a moment to understand what you’re implying but when he does, he gets a little flustered. takes you hand and kisses your knuckles, your wrist, your arm, neck--
annie — “come here then,” she says, her body facing yours andd a small smile on her lips, almost as if she’s daring you to come closer.
porco — smirks and looks at you up and down. “what a coincidence, seems i’m in the mood as well,” he grins and pulls you closer by your waist, trailing kisses down your neck.
pieck — “good, ‘been thinking about you all day,” she smiles from her lying position on the couch and extends her arms, making a grasping motion.
yelena — “mhm? and have you been good today?” she teases you, a flirty smirk on her face as she walks closer to you, holding you chin between her fingers.
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put on a show.
SYNOPSIS 𖦹 eren is annoyed that his friend's won't leave him alone when he's trying to get a blow job. so out of frustration, he's shows them that he's busy by using your head like his own little fleshlight.
WARNINGS 𖦹 18+, nsfw, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, face fucking, facetime sex, gagging, choking, swallowing, drug use (weed, non descriptive), modern au, college au
PAIRING 𖦹 eren yeager/jaeger x female reader
"Jesus- Eren, just answer the phone. They're not going to stop until you do." You sighed, looking up at him. It was the sixth time his phone rang in a row, and to be frank, you were annoyed at the endless combination of ringing and vibrating coming from the Apple device. It was probably the worst time to pester someone with a phone call.
Eren stared down at you in your current state with a blank face, the slightest shade of pink dusting his nose bridge and cheeks. You sat on your knees in between his thighs, his sweats and boxers pooled at this ankles while his cock was hard and heavy in your dainty manicured hand.
"It's a facetime." He says flatly.
"Try not to flip the camera." There was something about your wording that made him quirk a brow at you. Eren had his suspicions before, but he was never sure. He recalls accidentally sending one of your lewds to the group chat and you being completely okay with people outside of him seeing your half-naked body. Your wording only made him further believe you might have been into exhibitionism.
Eren's thumb slid over the phone screen to join the ongoing call. As he did, everyone popped up and sat in their squares, doing various things in different areas. The group consisted of Armin, Jean, Connie, & Floch. Armin had his phone propped up on his desk, multiple papers, pens, and a sizeable open textbook in front of him. Jean sat in the driver's seat of his car, with his phone on the dashboard. Floch was seemingly in the comfort of his bed. Then there was Connie, who was in a darker space, his dorm maybe? Slightly turned away from the camera and occupied with something, bringing that something up to his lips to lick it every so often. It was a joint.
"What the fuck do you want?" Eren's voice was riddled with irritation as he looked at his friends on the phone. You held in a giggle hearing all their responses.
"Finally. Jean can stop talking shit now."
"What's up, man?"
"The hell took you so long?"
"I'm busy right now." Eren deadpanned and looked down at you off-camera. You had your head rested on your forearm upon his thigh, a content expression on your face while watched your hand stroke his cock leisurely. You were using this time to take in every detail about him. He was thick, long, heavy. When he was hard, it was veiny and flushed red at the tip. He seemed to like it a lot when you ran your thumb across the head and slit as he was particularly sensitive there. Eren used his free hand to massage your scalp with his fingertips, silently urging you to keep going.
On the other line, Jean scoffed and shook his head. Eren's reasoning clearing being bullshit to him.
"Busy, my ass! We can see you sitting in your dorm right now, dipshit." Jean insulted, and before Eren could retaliate, Armin spoke up, trying to keep the peace. He really didn't want to be caught in the middle of a screaming match if he didn't have to.
"Sorry, Eren. I tried to tell them we should call later, but they didn't listen." Armin apologized, pushing his circle frames higher on his face.
"It's fine. What is- it?" Eren's voice hitched a bit when he felt your soft lips pepper tiny wet kisses up his length. You smiled to yourself, seeing his body tense up from your actions. Deciding it was time to take it up a notch, you swirled your wet tongue around his leaking tip before sucking on it gently. Eren stifled a moan by turning it into a cough.
"Our project is due in a week, and we haven't done shit," Connie said, still preoccupied, but only this time everyone heard the flick of a lighter. The warm light from the flame was illuminating his facial features.
"I would've started it already, but I've been so busy with studying with my midterms, I completely forgot," Armin said, his fingers pushing his hair back as he looked at the camera.
"Relax. We weren't going to let you do all the work anyway." Floch sat up in his bed, yawning and rubbing his face. You rolled your eyes, becoming quite bored of the conversation already. You remember telling them a week ago that they should get started but no one listened.
"Everyone is here. We can start planning something now then." Armin said. Everyone was on the same page, or at least almost everyone.
The call was about seven or eight minutes in. By now, Eren muted his line, his camera facing up towards the white and unmoving ceiling. Little did his friends know, Eren had his hands holding your head in place as he relentlessly fucked into your throat, grunting dirty and vile profanities as you played with your throbbing clit. It turned you on so much. You were doing something so dirty while he was on the phone with his unsuspecting friends. What would they think if they found out he was face fucking you? Would they be turned on-- turned on enough the jerk off in the late hours of the night to the thought of your lips wrapped around Eren's massive dick?
"Are you even listening, Eren?" Jean's voice stuck out the Eren the most over everyone's chatter about the assignment. Irritated, Eren grabbed his phone roughly off his desk. His flushed and angry face now in the camera. He halted his hips movement, but his grip on your hair was still iron-fist as he used your skull like his personal fleshlight.
"I'm fucking-" He was about to cum soon. "Busy." Eren gritted through his teeth.
"Fuck it," Eren's eyes darted to your teary doe-like ones. His pretty greens eyes were holding nothing but lust, excitement, and anger. He was fed up. All he wanted to do was fuck your pretty mouth in peace, but he was continually being pestered about things he really couldn't care less about at the moment. All they had to do was wait 30 fucking minutes to call him back. Yeah, Eren was absolutely fed up. If they were set on fucking with him so much, it was his turn to fuck with them.
"Should I show them, baby? Should I show them how I shove my fucking cock down your throat? Show 'em how you cry and choke on it?" Eren smiles sadistically at his friend's surprised and embarrassed faces. The blush on their cheeks prominent from hearing their friend speak in such an offensive manner. The sounds of your choking and wet mouth so erotic as it filled their phone speakers. Fuck, this turned Eren on so much and brought him only that much closer to his load than he already was. You whined around his cock, feeling your orgasm creep up on you fast as your fingers abused your clit in quick and short rubbing motions.
Without a spec of hesitation, your boyfriend flips his camera, and there you were: mascara running down your cheeks, lip gloss smeared, and hair messy with Eren's cock lodged in your mouth. He was using you so shamelessly, and you were willfully letting him. God, you wished you could've seen their reaction, but you could only assume they were amazing Eren's smile.
"Say hi, don't be shy. You look pretty." Eren lifted your head by the grip on your hair. His cock falls from your mouth, slapping wetly on his lower stomach. A long string of saliva connecting from your lips to the shaft. You smiled sweetly at the camera and waved.
"Hey, guys. Sorry for keeping him distracted, but we're gonna finish really soon, okay?" You grabbed his shaft in your hands again, stroking him lazily.
"Eren, your girlfriend is so fucking hot."
"That's my girl. You'd die by this fucking cock if I let you. Wouldn't you?" Eren asked, and you nodded eagerly, your teeth playfully biting your bottom lip. You put his length back into your mouth and let Eren resume his manic thrusts from before. Your hand slipped back into your panties, rubbing yourself again.
He was sure everyone was either touching themselves quietly or incredibly hard, wishing they had the guts actually to do it-- too embarrassed to admit they were turned on. Out of everyone's reactions, though, Armin's was probably Eren's favorite. Only because Eren knew Armin wasn't straight, and he wasn't just being turned on by you getting throat fucked but, seeing his best friend's big cock made the blond incredibly hard, nearly cumming in his pants untouched. If Armin kept watching, he was sure that would be fate.
"I'm gonna fucking cream. You want it? You wanna choke on it?" Eren grunts, his thrusts into your mouth becoming noticeably harder and sporadic. Your nose met his curly pubes every time his hips slammed into you. You felt your orgasm wash over you in intense waves, and you cried around him; tears stream down your warm face. Eren's thighs flexed, and his entire body stilled. He held your head down in place even deeper than before making you gag around him.
"Fucking take it." That was all he said before pumping his hot and thick load down your throat. Eren flipped his camera again, his face in the frame.
"Next time, text me." Eren said and hung up.
© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.
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good girl (armin x reader x jean)
inspired by this post + this song ///// armin x reader x jean
cw: professor-student relationship, relationship typical age gap, praise, degradation, rough sex, semi-public sex,
an: a new writing style for this quick lil drabble i wrote while high! dedicated to the beautiful soul @fiaficsxo for her constant support my heart is warm T_T
professor arlert was a tough grader, you knew that.
what you didn't know was that professor arlert had been eyeing you and your pretty little self. you, sitting in the first row of the lecture hall, wearing skirts that made his long fingers itch to push up and aside. you, lips glossed and shiny and pouty, curving and contorting around the tip of your pencil. you, pure, perfect, petrified of your first college lecture with the notorious armin arlert, phd.
and what armin didn't know was that your advisor and his longtime friend, professor jean kirstein, had been holding back on his attraction, had been doing his hardest to be pious and prim.
"it's just that - i'm scared of him, you know?" you confide to professor kirstein, eyelids drooping and hidden beneath the shadow of your lashes. a breath catches in jean's throat, trapped beneath his flesh - as are his desires, pent up in his pants. you are so beautiful, he thinks, thinks many times before speaking.
"we go way back," jean says. "i'll introduce the two of you, to be on better terms." jean watches you brighten, watches you sigh in relief as you look at him with doting eyes. you're so grateful to have such a handsome and caring advisor, and your eyes overflow with that admiration. jean takes a note of it, of course, and when his hands graze across your bare knees as he fetches a post-it note to scribble down his phone number, he takes note of your clenching thighs.
hours later, as jean pours him and armin another look, the second he speaks your name, he knows: armin wants you, too.
"i shouldn't," armin says, throwing his head back, eyes closed. his adam's apple bobs in his throat as he thinks deeply of you, your soft gazes and shiny legs. your gait, the swing of your hips, the curve at your side - he thinks of you in your entirety. "but i do."
"i do, too," jean says, gulping down the rest of his burning drink. but nothing burns as much as the desire for you. "and what if she wants us back?"
armin pauses in shock. then: a smirk. and finally, a chuckle, a deep one growing from the center of his chest, deep and groaning.
"we can reward our good girl," armin says, loosening his tie.
"our good girl," jean says the next night, as you lean back on armin's bed, body melting into his silk sheets as you arch your hips into jean's thick fingers.
you moan around armin's dick, his fat cock filling your mouth as he thrusts into your wet warmth. he hisses at the vibrations created by your voice.
"fuck," armin says, voice's deepness ringing in your ears. "fuck, you've got quite a mouth on you."
"shame we don't hear it as often," jean says, slowly circling a finger over your clit as you mewl. "maybe we'll have to lower a certain someone's grade?"
"no-mmph!" you say, honestly unsure of what they're saying, mind more heavy with lust and want. your clit is pulsating. "f-fuck me instead."
armin groan-laughs as you lick around his tip, sliding your tongue all over the head. "go on, jean. give the pretty little whore what she wants. give this good girl her reward."
"yes, yes, p l e a s e," you beg, drawing out the letters, tongue twisting to trace them over armin's tip. armin cries out your name, whispers to you gently of how good you're being, how good you're taking him.
"we'll take care of you, sweets," jean says, patting your pussy. "gonna fill your cunt with cum, okay?" you're only able to let one yes slide before jean himself has slid into you, your slick creating the perfect environment for his action.
you groan, scream, moan - all around armin. armin yells for jean to go faster, acting as your own voice, surprising you with how it feels as if he's taken the words straight from your mouth.
"faster?" jean asks, his hazel eyes looking straight into yours, shining and dark, pupils dilated.
"please, professor, harder," you cry, taking a deep breath and break from sucking on armin.
jean stops his slow motions. "professor?"
you gasp at your mistake. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry - professors," you say, pluralizing. "professors, i'm-"
jean rocks into your hips, his pelvis hitting your clit and sending a thrum of pleasure through your body, a melodious sensation singing in your mind.
you're warm all over, body a hearth from the heat coursing through you, flames of feeling that you are getting overwhelmed by.
this - jean thrusts out and in quick as a bullet - was - armin's hands bury in your hair, pulling on your scalp - the - jean's fingers find your clit, pressing rhythmically - best - armin's voice surrounds your, sweet nothings of your aptitude at sucking his cock - decision - "yes, that's my girl, taking my cock so prettily, you know how tight, how fuckin' perfect you are?" - you - armin stroking your hair as jean takes over narrating praise for you - made - jean's thrusts are faster and faster, armin's cock is going deeper and deeper -
and there it is: the peak, the pinnacle, the top of whatever feeling the three of you were searching for, together. sparks travel all over your skin, and you shake and shiver under the overwhelming intensity of your orgasm, body and hips convulsing.
jean and armin both cry your name, both positioning their hips into your openings, filling you with their cum and cooing softly, as your mouth and your cunt are filled with wet spurts of semen. you swallow, some of it spilling out the side of your lips. armin, when he catches his breath, wipes it off with his thumb swishing against your bottom lip, pressing into the soft flesh of your lips.
"you did well, beautiful," armin says, before leaning to kiss you deeply, his tongue tasting himself, tasting your spit.
"mmhh," jean hums, nodding. he lays beside you, cupping your breast, thumb rubbing circles over your nipples. jean pats your pussy again, pushing a finger into your slick, generating a wet sound. "good girl's all filled up, huh?"
armin chuckles, sticks his fingers in, too. "are you still scared?"
you blink, lashes fluttering rapidly, honesty overcoming you. "no, not at all. i don't think i ever truly was - just excited."
"excited for?" armin asks, hovering over you. jean brings a hand to his slowly rising cock as he watches armin's hands wrap around your throat. they both are waiting for your next words.
"more. of you two. please, professors."
reblogs are appreciated. tell me what you liked and didn't like so i can be a better writer for you.
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how do you think aot would kiss their s/o ————
how aot characters would kiss you;
eren kisses you like he’ll never get to kiss you again. it’s full of passion and every emotions he’s feeling at the moment and you can feel it too somehow— it’s usually always like this as well. when he’s angry you can feel it, when he’s sad you can feel the sadness, when he’s giddy you can feel it. it’s like he’s pouring everything into you with that kiss, his hands are grabbing onto you somewhere, you can feel him breathing on you, it’s like you’ll disappear any moment.
levi kisses you like he needs it. don’t get me wrong, it’s gentle and it almost feels like nothing is there, almost feels meaningless, but i promise you that kiss meant so much to him. he wished your lips could’ve been on his for longer, and even sometimes when you’re ready to pull off his lips linger on yours for a bit more. it’s almost too soft, like he’s gonna hurt you, and you need to ask for more if you want it, cause he’ll give you more.
armin kisses you like you’re the most fragile thing on earth. he cups your face, starts by kissing your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and you can hear him giggle before he connects your lips together. it’s so soft and it’s only a peck at first— and then he goes in for more and he might get a little carried away. he’s just so infatuated with you, and he’s studying your lips and how they move against his so he can remember it.
jean kisses you like he’s lovesick. it’s so romantic, and it almost pains you how sweet it is. he tried his best not to fuck up your first kiss that it was corny in the most adorable way, and everytime after that you can still feel how you felt that first time he kissed you. he’d take you by your hips and press you against him so he can feel your warmth, smile down at you before connecting your lips— and it feels nice, it’s not too forceful but it’s not delicate either. it’s this perfect balance that you can’t shake and it fills you completely. he’d peck the corner of your lips or your cheek after and you can’t help but bury your face in his chest because jean!
connie kisses you like he knows there’ll be moments like these again. he knows there’ll be moments like these again, so each kiss is rare and it’s never too much. it’s always impulsive, you’d both be laughing at something and he just leans in for a kiss! just like that. it’s so quick that it’s almost a peck, it’s a little sloppy and your teeth clash— like neither of you really know what you’re doing but once again, there’ll be moments like these. you can make it better next time. (news flash, it’s still the same!!)
reiner kisses you like he’s scared. it’s like he thinks he’ll mess it up— he takes your hand in his and leans in so unsteadily, continuously looking up at your eyes to make sure it’s okay, that you want to kiss him. at that point just grab him and connect your lips together. when you do he melts into it so flawlessly, like he was made to kiss you, and it almost feels natural at that point. he almost sounds hungry for it, like he’s been wanting it for the longest time. he’s groaning because he’s filled with euphoria at the way your lips dance together, and because his love for you is so unshakeable. albeit him kissing you so nicely, when you break lips through his pants of breath he’ll still manage to ask “was that okay?”
porco kisses you like he doesn’t want to. it’s kind of funny because the way he rolls his eyes when you ask contradicts how he grabs onto your shirt and pulls you as close as possible to him when your lips meet. i said reiner’s felt hungry? porco’s is hungry. like he was craving your lips and didn’t have the balls to kiss you himself. it’s rough, it’s messy, but that’s how he likes it. and he hopes you do too because they’ll most likely continue to be like that, especially with that yearning look he gives you.
colt kisses you like he was overcome with fidelity. it’s so domestic. his kiss makes you feel the future, and it’s a determined kiss, like him letting you know he’s not going anywhere and you aren’t either. he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you against his chest, kissing the top of your head before he pulls you back a little to really kiss you. somehow he makes this kiss tender, yet at the same time it’s hard— or more so heavy with zeal.
zeke kisses you like he’s has something up his sleeve. it’s a little odd— it doesn’t feel too loving. but no worries, he shows you he loves you in other ways. he’ll hold your chin and pull your face to his and sometimes he’ll lift his glasses to the top of his head before he connects your lips together. it’s a tad bit sensual at first but he’ll slip his tongue in. he never fails to slip his tongue in. it’ll search your mouth and once he’s satisfied he pulls back with a string of saliva connecting the two of you that he’ll break with his finger before putting his glasses back on and continuing what he was doing like it was nothing. catch the little things, like the small smirk that stays on his face after. or the little “hmph.” he manages to make. he’s satisfied. he hopes you are too.
mikasa kisses you like she never has before. somehow everytime you kiss it’s like it’s her first time, and it has to be the cutest thing ever. she gets all shy— and that strong woman you know so well suddenly conceals herself. she’ll adjust her clothes because they suddenly feel too tight on her, her face is flushed and she feel small when she taps your knee. you already know what she wants because you know enough about this side of her, so make it quick, a softhearted kiss that’ll satisfy her. not too long because she might burst! you can feel how she loves you through it, and it leaves you feeling equally as pleased.
sasha kisses you like it’s a game. it’s cute and cheery, she’ll drop everything just to feel your lips against hers because it feels good. she’ll lean in and bump noses with you before pulling back with a laugh, her hands on your knees to stable herself as she kisses you for real. she’s laughing into the kiss but those laughs melt away into pleasure. it’s nice the way her lips move against yours, and it makes you giddy. it makes your heart warm and it fills you with pure adoration.
hange kisses you like they haven’t ever in their life. it’s nice to watch, the way she perks up when you start leaning in and the tilt of her head. you almost laugh in her face. she’ll scramble to take her glasses off and push her bangs out the way, and she’s waiting for you to meet her lips. sitting with her feet tapping the floor in excitement. and when your lips do meet their eyes open again for a split second before they topple you over and kiss you like it’s a feeling they haven’t felt. and she experiments with your lips, kissing every inch of them. she’s mesmerized. it makes your heart burst and you’ll almost want to cry with pure joy at the fact that she’s yours.
historia kisses you like she’s trying to tell you something. it’s almost motherly, it’s a confirmation of her love— like she’s telling you that she loves you. she’ll pull you close, and the way her eyes flutter shut before she touches lips with yours is heavenly. her eyebrows are a bit furrowed, like she’s wary the kiss won’t be satisfactory, but that crease between her brows disappears and her hands settle on your arms, dispelling her passion unto you. these are the best kinds of kisses with her. because if it’s not this, it’s a little cute peck to the cheek that leaves you wanting to feel her skin on yours again.
hitch kisses you like she was craving you. she’ll crawl on top of you, and if she can’t one of her body parts will be touching yours. it’s her charming smile that’s alluring, and that small upturn of her lips that tells you she knows what she wants. and the two will kiss, but somehow that ravenous feel only lasts for a little bit. she’s quenched and it’s only her love for you left behind that becomes evident in how she slows down her lips against yours. it’s intimate and the two of you only pull away when you’ve ran out of breath.
annie kisses you like she’s kissed you one time too many. its you who puts in the work, but you can feel the twitch of her lips and it’s quite pleasing to feel. you know you’re getting under her skin in a good way, you know she’s melting at the fondness of it all. sometimes she even scoots a little closer to deepen the kiss— but she never asks for more or gives you more, even if the both of you want it. well, you never get time to ask for more because she’s trying to distract herself or leaving the room right after. it takes a while to get used to the bored expression she still manages to have even after the two of you kiss. but although her eyes are still half lidded and jaded, she’ll refuse to make contact with you, and her cheeks will begin to redden. and that’s how you know she liked it. that’s how you know you still got it— and it’s endearing. don’t worry, she loves you.
pieck kisses you like she’s giving you something you need. maybe it’s the way her hand comes up to your jaw, the way she shakes her head at you with a overly sweet smile before kissing you. it’s almost overwhelming, the way her lips move alongside yours so skillfully. they slot together almost perfectly and she’s bleeding this warmth, this comfort that you absolutely soak in. you just wanna pull her against you and never let her go, and she’s feeding you her love through this kiss. i guess it is something you need— at least something you’ll wanna feel as many times as you can.
yelena kisses you like it’s something worth earning. the tilt of her head, the quirk of her brow. but nevertheless she’ll lean down and press her lips to yours. her lips barely graze yours at first, and it’s you who has to complete the kiss. who has to pull her hands from behind her back and wrap them around you while you try your best at wrapping them around her shoulders. it’s then the kiss becomes somewhat fervent. she’ll kiss you harsher, sounds elicit from her here and there despite her trying to keep her composure and make it about you. she’s in love with you— the facade broke faster than she could blink, but it was nice seeing her get gushy for you, kiss you like you’re a drug. only, she’d return to that calm put together demeanor right after, and you can’t help but pout. you’d get her again next time.
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xbox or playstation? 🎮
SYNOPSIS ✰ eren finds more interest in gaming than you, his horny girlfriend.
WARNINGS ✰ nsfw/18+, gamer au, streamer/gamer eren, very needy and horny reader, humping, sex in a gaming chair, blowjob, dirty talk, eren is kinda mean but he lets you use him to get off.
PAIRING ✰ eren yeager x female reader.
The uncomfortable throbbing and heat coming from between your legs were enough to pull you from your sleep. The dream you experienced before waking up was the cause— your boyfriend fucking you into the mattress while his large hand your face hard-pressed into the sheets as he pounded into you from behind. It was expected, Eren’s been streaming and gaming for most of the day, leaving you to fend for yourself to find your own entertainment. Usually, you didn’t mind. It was his job and how he paid rent but on this particular day you were feeling very needy and your advances were met with a dismissive ‘I’m working.’ or ‘I’m busy right now. Can’t you wait later?’
A tiny whine escaped your lips as you sat up, wiping the sleep from your hazy eyes to an empty bed. The orange light from the sunset was bleeding through the window, entering the room and coloring the walls a warm apricot color.
5:15 pm is what the digital clock sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed read. He should be finished streaming.
The soft pitter-patter of your soft feet sounded again the cold hardwood flooring throughout the hallway as you made your way to what you like to call ‘the homewrecking room’, it’s just his workroom but maybe you’re a little bit of a drama queen. The door was halfway open, so you stuck your head in. It was rather dark, his LEDs turned off and the blinds from the window closed. His face was illuminated by the computer monitors in front of his face. He wasn’t on stream right now that was a fact but you still knocked on the twice before stepping in.
“Eren,” You called for him.
Your soft voice grabs Eren’s attention, making him do a double-take. He takes his hand to push one side of his headset behind his ear, eyes locked on you for a moment. He’s not sure if you want to tell him something but he couldn’t lie, you looked cute right now— dressed in nothing but his hoodie and your cute panties. You were wearing the cotton ones that had the teeny ribbon bow at the waistband. You had a sleepy look on your face, rubbing your eyes with one of your sweater paws.
“Took a nap?” He asks— his eyes darting back to the main computer monitor out of the three in front of him.
“Mhm.” You hum in response, walking over to him and standing at the armrest of his chair.
Eren looks pretty right now. He always does but you especially love when he wears his hair down. He’s so invested in the game— brows furrowed in concentration while his fingers skillfully mashed the controller’s buttons. The game controller looks so small in his hands compared to when you’re holding it.
“Can we cuddle?” You ask softly, wiggling your sweater paw on his forearm.
Eren leans back further in his gaming chair, lifting his arms as an invitation for you to come climb into his lap. So you did— settling yourself onto his thighs with both your legs on either side of his waist. Your body melts into his with your face buried in his neck, taking in his scent. He smelled faintly of his favorite cologne, a sultry mixture of amber and cedarwood. Eren’s arms wrap around your frame, his slender hands still pressing the buttons on his controller rapidly. You can hear his friends’ yelling, profanities, and jokes spill through his headset. To be frank, you were getting a little jealous because you wanted his attention. You’ve been asking for it the entire day nearly.
“Miss you, Eren..” You whine quietly into his skin.
“Flank to your right, Jean-” Eren mutes his mic. “I’m right here, pumpkin.” He rubs yours back a couple of times before his hand is back on the controller. Eren isn’t really there and definitely not paying attention either, you can tell. There's a clear difference in tone— disinterest, and dismissiveness when speaking to you and the lighthearted words and chuckles his friends get.
“Pay attention to me.” You mumble.
“I am.” He deadpans.
“You’re not, you jerk.” Your shirt balls up into your fist.
You just want him— and you’re not exactly picky with how either.
One of your hands finds its way to your clothed pussy, lodging itself in between his crotch and yours before you begin to hump it, adding pressure on your clit from your middle and ring finger.
“What are you doing?” Eren asks quietly enough for his headset not to pick up his words.
“Nothing.” You whimper, continuing to rut yourself against your hand and taking in your boyfriend’s scent.
It’s not enough though, you know it’s not enough. In a way, you almost hate how Eren conditioned you to want his cock and his only. It’s so fucking big and pretty, he knows it too. The way you can feel that thick vein that protrudes angrily along his length rub against your g spot with every thrust. God, and how he splits you open is almost scary but you can’t get enough of it. Fingers, pillows, toys just don’t do it for you anymore— and your hand right now certainly wasn’t.
“C’n I put you inside?” You lift yourself lazily from his shoulder to look at him, pouting and flushed in the face. Eren sighs, before muting his mic once again.
“Will you behave? I’m serious, (Name). I’m not fucking you right now. Jean is recording for his channel.” He says.
“s’okay!” You perk up a bit. “Just wanna feel you.” You say.
“You say that then we end up fucking..” He sighs when he sees the sad puppy eyes you were putting on for him.
“Go on then, Get me hard.”
It’s been thirty minutes— thirty aching minutes of being stuffed full of Eren’s fat cock. Your panties have long since been discarded somewhere on the floor while his shorts and boxers are pulled halfway down his thighs. You know he can feel your walls fluttering around him every time one of you shifts even the slightest bit, and the most frustrating thing about it is: he doesn’t seem to be affected by any of this. Still ignoring you with his dick buried balls deep into your cunt. Every time you attempted to grind your hips down onto his, he would pinch your thigh hard enough to sting.
“Rennie,” You had tears pricking at your eyes at this point, all you wanted to do was cum but your boyfriend was being a jerk.
“Are you this insatiable? My god.” Eren asks.
“Please, Eren. I miss you.” You rolled your hips onto his.
“Fine. Use it, get yourself off. But I’m not helping you.”
Eren doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re fucking yourself on his cock— quite literally using him as your own personal dildo. Your arms are wrapped snug around his neck, muffling your moans in his neck as you bounce yourself up and down on his shaft. The head of his cock hitting your cervix every time your hips slammed down onto his. The chair creaking underneath you both with your rapid movements was paired with soft sounds of skin slapping, your labored breathing, and whines. You’re almost certain his teammates can hear you, but it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing on your mind right now was using your boyfriend to get yourself off.
You feel your high form in the pit of your tummy, erupting like a volcano when you reach its peak. Your walls clamp around your boyfriend’s big cock— walls fluttering and clenching in erratic rhythms around his shaft. Your thighs are burning and shaking as you tried your best to silence your moans by biting down on his shoulder. Eren feels it all, he knows you just came but he’s still unbothered, his eyes locked on the screen. His body only moves slightly when you tug on his neck a little too hard. You’re limp in his lap, catching your breath when you hear Eren’s team call for a 10-minute break before resuming another session.
“Satisfied?” He asks, pulling back his headphones so they lay around his neck.
“You didn’t cum.” You say, your cheek slightly squished from his shoulder. Eren only shrugs and ushers you to get up by tapping on your thighs and you followed suit— lifting yourself off his cock. It falls heavy out of you, slapping softly onto his shirt glistening from your juices.
“Clean it.” He says.
You drop to your knees taking his shaft into your palm, dragging your tongue along his length making sure to flatten your muscle to cover more area. You look up through your lashes at Eren to see he’s on his phone— body relaxed with his arm rested behind his head, scrolling through Twitter. Ignoring you, again.
Your hand wraps around the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue around the flushed red tip— then taking as much as you possibly could into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to create a sucking sensation. The rest that couldn’t fit was being fisted by your hand.
“I said clean up your mess, not get me off,” Eren says, looking down at you instead of at his phone. You released him from your mouth with an explicit ‘pop.’
“Will you feed me, Eren?” You ask, eyes never leaving his. “‘m hungry.” Your hand continues to pump him lazily.
“Fuck- Yeah, I got something for you. Hold still.” Eren’s phone is long forgotten, his hand grabbing a fist full of your hair pulling your head back.
“Use both hands, yeah- stroke my cock, baby.” Eren’s moans sound breathless and pretty. You’re moving your hands up and down his dick at a rapid pace.
“Open your mouth. Said you were hungry, right?” Eren shoots his load onto your tongue unannounced— his thick ropes painting your pretty pink tongue white, some of it dripping down your chin. He’s looking down at you with lidded eyes and his bottom lip nursed between his teeth as he rides out his high with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Your hands come to an eventual stop and you roll your tongue back into your mouth, swallowing your snack. Eren takes a finger, swiping it along your chin to gather the excess that didn’t make it into your tummy. You gladly taking his finger into your mouth sucking it clean.
“Now get out. I’m working.”
© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.
4K notes · View notes
+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader
+ genres: rich kid au, college au, friends to lovers au, fluff, light-ish angst, smut/nsfw content (everybody gets a piece)!
+ warnings: mentions of depression/anxiety, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol, some of the smut happens under the influence so be cautious if that’s something you don’t like, i swear this is all more idiots in love than angst tho i just wanna disclose everything fairly
+ notes: this is alternatively titled super rich kids and you can probably figure out why. some of this is based off of real life, some of it is straight out of gossip girl and i challenge you to separate the facts from the fiction :’) anyways, i hope we all remember the lyrics to in my feelings
+ more notes: one quick reference for ages in this fic—all the vets are older but not by that much, think various stages of grad school. armin, connie, sasha, annie, and bertholdt are all college sophomores. eren, the reader, and pretty much everybody else are college seniors, so they’re about a year or two older. also here is a playlist for your reading pleasures, shoutout to ryn for letting me mooch of their spotify account :’)
+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.
+ summary: fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool, fuck you.; or the story of notorious rich kid and self-proclaimed bad boy eren yeager, and his not so goody two-shoes best friend.
“So you’re saying that you don’t love me? That you’re not riding? That you’ll actually leave from beside me?”
“I’m saying that it’s ass o’clock in the morning and I’m not driving in the rain to Brooklyn to pick your sorry ass up.”
“But… but I want you, and I need you, and I’m down for you.”
You check the time on your phone screen and groan. 3:57am. Far too early to be dealing with the likes of Eren Jaeger. “Just get an Uber or something. I don’t know what you and your idiot friends were up to this time, but I don’t want any part of it.”
“First, they’re our idiot friends. Second, I don’t think they let you take Ubers from jail, and even if they did, it’s, like, four in the morning, so I don’t think there are any Ubers driving around, so could you pretty please come pick me up? I promise I’ll make it up to—”
“From where?” you cut him off, slowly sitting upright in your bed. You hold your phone closer to your ear, ready to listen again; because, certainly, you must have misheard him the first time. You wait, but the line is silent, save for Eren’s awkward chuckling. “Eren Asher Jaeger, tell me that that was another stupid lyric from that stupid song, and that you are not in prison right now.”
Eren makes a sad attempt at laughing. “Technically, it’s a holding cell, not really prison… and I would leave, but they suspended my license for a month, and Min can’t drive yet, so we kind of need you,” he explains, “Uh, no pun intended.”
“Min?” you pull your eyebrows together at the mention of the younger’s name, “Is Armin with you?”
With a frown and a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed, wedging your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you grab the nearest pair of sweatpants.
“Why did you get him caught up in whatever stupid shit you were doing tonight?” you complain, scanning your dark bedroom for a shirt to wear, “Erwin’s going to castrate you when he finds out.”
You curse as you stub your toe against the edge of your bed on your way out of the room. Given the time, weather, and the fact that you have several exams to start studying for, hanging up and leaving Eren in the middle of god knows where Brooklyn doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, but you couldn’t go back to sleep knowing that Armin would have to suffer with him.
“Relax,” Eren breathes in a tone all too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “He didn’t get charged with anything, and nothing’s going on his record.”
“You don’t know that,” you retort, sliding your raincoat over your free arm, as you paddle down the stairs of your apartment, “The NYPD suck.”
“True,” he hums, “But I paid off the cop, so it’ll be fine.”
You pause in your steps, but really, you shouldn’t be surprised. “Of course you did,” you mumble, moving again and grabbing your car keys off of the kitchen island.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questions. His tone is actually genuine and it tempts you to roll your eyes.
“What it always means, Eren,” you sigh, stepping into the elevator, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Thank you, baby. I love you.”
“Get off my line.”
He doesn’t have time to throw in another pitiful “I love you” before the line goes dead and he’s met with static silence. He hangs up the station telephone with a silent chuckle, turning around to face Armin and Officer Hannes.
“Someone’s coming to pick us up,” he says, trying to focus on Armin’s sigh of relief and not the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, “I’ll, uh, call a tow for the car in the morning.”
The cop, too tired to care, only shrugs, and pays them no further attention. He hands Eren a plastic bag with his car keys and newly suspended license, escorts him back into the cell, and returns to his desk. Eren gives Hannes the finger while his back is turned.
Beside him, Armin is still quivering; bouncing his leg up and down, fiddling with his fingers, gnawing on his bottom lip. Eren frowns, a heavy wave of guilt washing over him as he takes in the younger’s anxiety ridden state. It wasn’t fair that Armin could have potentially suffered legal consequences because of his stupidity.
Eren’s lucky that Hannes was sleazy enough to accept his bribe and let him off with minimal punishment. With that they were doing, things could have ended up far worse for the both of them tonight.
“I’m sorry, man,” he apologizes, hands stuffed in his front pockets, “About tonight, I mean. We—I shouldn’t have done that, not with you there.”
Armin looks up at him with sparkling, doe eyes and Eren wants to punch himself in the gut for making him go through all of this, even if it didn’t amount to an actual arrest. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”
“I could have prevented it,” he says. Because it’s what you would have said, too.
“It’s not your fault, I wanted to come, remember?” Armin tells him, redirecting his gaze to the grey floor of the precinct cell. He takes a deep breath, almost calming down completely when a sudden thought reignites his nervous ticks, “You… they’re not gonna tell my parents, right?”
“No, no—of course not.”
Armin was legally an adult; he, nor Eren, nor the police had to tell his parents anything. Sure, Hannes could rat them out, but honestly that sounded like way more work than he was cut out for; not to mention he’d be bound to reveal that he let them off easy for a couple thousand bucks.
Armin nods, “And… that wasn’t Erwin on the phone, right?”
“Are you kidding me? He’d murder me on the spot,” Eren says. He pauses before tacking on, “I, uh… I called (_____).”
“Oh,” the younger gapes, “She’ll kill you, too.”
“Yeah,” Eren sighs, scratching the back of his neck in nervous anticipation, “Trust me, I know.”
“You have your access card on you, right, Armin?” you ask. He nods sheepishly, hand on the car door handle.
“Thanks again for coming to get us,” he says meekly, “I’m sorry about waking you up and everything.”
You offer him a warm smile through the rear view mirror, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re safe. Text me when you get up tomorrow, okay? We can get brunch, my treat.”
His face lights up at the prospect of free food, and he nods once more, enthusiastically, but his expression falls again when he speaks, “Okay, and I’ll, um, pay you back for the tickets and stuff as soon as I can—”
“It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” you repeat.
“It was almost three thou—”
“You forget who you’re friends with,” you cut him off with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”
Armin’s eyes dart to Eren quickly, before clearing his throat, a light pink tint to his cheeks. You know that the prospect of money can be a sensitive subject for Armin, one easily triggered by his very environment, but this wasn’t negotiable on your end. You know that Armin doesn’t like the feeling of owing anyone anything, but he knows he won’t get you to budge; so, he quietly nods, appreciative of your generosity, before bidding you and Eren a final goodnight and sprinting towards the dorm. Once you see that he’s safely inside, you wave one last time, and wait for the door to shut behind him.
Slowly, Eren turns to the driver’s seat to look at you. You were eerily calm when you came to pick him and Armin up from the station. You didn’t yell, cuss, or punch him in the face like he expected. You politely talked to the officer, thanked him for his service, paid their fees, and up until now, you’ve shown no signs of being angry with him at all.
The two of you drive back to your shared apartment in complete silence, Eren too confused, and borderline scared, of initiating a conversation. He wonders if you’re too tired, or if you really don’t give a damn anymore, but when you pull into the underground lot of your building and put the car in park, he finds out the silence was simply the calm before the storm.
You take your hand off of the gear shift and turn towards him. It’s a quiet stare down for nearly a full minute before you break the mime act with a slap to his thigh.
“Drag racing? Are you out of your fucking mind? Of all the stupid shit you’ve done—and you’ve done a lot of stupid shit—this has got to take the cake. Just what the actual fuck were you thinking?”
“Ouch!” he inhales sharply, rubbing over where you’d hit him, “We were just having fun! Then these other guys showed up and started talking shit so—”
“Having fun?” you echo, “You couldn’t think of anything fun to do that’s not illegal in every borough of New York City?”
Eren feels his cheek flush, but he only huffs with the illusion of disinterest, “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so bad. I’m a good driver, it was those other squids that got us into shit, I’m telling you. They showed up looking for a fight, then ran like a bunch of pussies when the cops came.”
You exhale slowly, shaking your head in disbelief. You seem to have no other words to say to him, choosing to step out of the car and slam the door behind you. Eren quickly follows, slamming his door equally as hard, and hot on your trail as you march towards the elevator.
“(_____), come on, enough with the silent treatment,” he whines when you stick yourself in a corner of the elevator after pushing the button to the penthouse, “I told you I didn’t start shit, Armin and I got ratted on.”
“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about whether or not they started it, Eren. You’re still the problem here.”
“Me? How am I the problem?” he pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion, “I just told you I didn’t do shit.”
You scoff, crossing your arms and shifting your left leg, “I’m not doing this with you right now.”
“Doing what with me?” he presses, tone growing icy.
“This, Eren!” you reiterate, “I’m too tired to hear your bullshit right now.”
The elevator dings and opens into your apartment. You push past him, continuing your deliberate strides through the living area, and to the stairs, but Eren catches you with a hand on your wrist before you can go any further.
“Will you fucking stop that,” he growls, “If you’ve got something to say, then stop running away from me, and just say it.”
“Funny,” you sneer, pulling your wrist away from him and settling both your feet on the bottom step, “You’re one to talk about running away from things.”
He takes a step back, standing just a notch below you, perfectly frozen in place. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means your little drag racing episode was not only dangerous and immature, it was you running away from your problems like a spoiled child, yet again.”
Eren’s features narrow at your accusations; eyes fading into hooded slits, lips curving downwards, and voice bobbing low, “I’m not running away from anything.”
“Oh, please, Eren,” you roll your eyes, arms retreating to their crossed position in front of your chest, “Cut the bullshit.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” But he bets that even in the dim lighting of the apartment, you can see the tips of his ears growing red, just like they always do when he’s lying.
“Oh, really?” you ask, eyes widening in mock surprise, “You don’t think I don’t know this whole thing has something to do with the fact that your mom came home on Friday?”
Another pause. “Who told you that?” He asks, but it comes out more like a statement.
“Nobody had to,” you snap, “Jean said he caught you with a sack of coke over the weekend, and I knew something was up.”
“It wasn’t mine, I was—”
“I said cut the shit, Eren. If I went up into your room right now I bet your ass I’d find more than enough of it in a shoebox somewhere.”
He retreats, almost bashful, but unapologetic all the same. “Fine, whatever, I did a few lines. Big deal.”
“The big deal is that you think this is fucking normal, and now you’ve upgraded from coke to getting yourself arrested! It’d be one thing if you were acting like a misfit on your own, but to drag Armin into it because you—”
“Drag him into it?” he echoes with the snare of sarcasm dripping from each syllable, “You talk about Armin like he’s six. I don’t know why you think he’s some helpless little baby, but you have no goddamn responsibility over him. He’s not your fucking charity case.”
“I never fucking said he’s my charity case—don’t you ever fucking say that,” you say, “Having some basic respect and concern for my friends isn’t charity.”
“Wake the fuck up! You baby Armin when he’s a grown ass man. I didn’t force him into the fucking car to get sympathy points from you.”
“Grown? Armin is barely nineteen, disowned by his parents, is on a full fucking ride to an insanely expensive university, and you got him arrested tonight! Do you know what could happen if NYU found out? They could fucking kick him out, take his scholarship away—and then what, huh? Or were you just gonna buy off the headmaster, too?”
“You’re acting like I fucking planned for it!”
He’s screaming now, voice bellowing throughout the apartment, face red—and he doesn’t mean to, he doesn’t mean it at all; but it’s late, and he’s tired, and those shouldn’t be excuses, but he’s too prideful to back down.
“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t plan for anything, you were just being a reckless, irresponsible asshole like always,” you tell him, too blind-sighted by anger and the need to chide him that you miss the teary undertones in his words.
“And what’s it matter to you?”
“It fucking matters to me when you call at some godforsaken hour asking me to pick you up from prison!”
He takes a step forward, right leg elevated by the same step that both your feet rest on. “Well, what else am I supposed to fucking do!” He shouts even though he’s mere inches from your face, “Tell me just what the fuck I’m supposed to do instead!”
“You’re supposed to act like an adult and fucking talk to someone!”
“Who the hell am I supposed to talk to, huh?” he presses, taking a step forward and forcing you to retreat backwards, and up a step, “My mother who’s never home or her bastard boyfriend?”—another step forward for him, another step backwards for you—“The step-brother I can’t get in contact with?”—one step forward; one step backwards—“Or maybe the dad I never had, right?”
“Me, Eren!” you yell back with equal vigor, throwing your hands up at your sides, and planting your feet firmly. “Armin, Mikasa, Jean—anyone! You have people who fucking care about you! Stop treating us like correction officers, we’re your fucking friends!”
There’s silence for a while, just you and Eren staring at each other, heavy breathing, waiting for the other to make the next move. He opens his mouth, but when he tries to speak, his resolve washes away, his throat tightens and the words get sucked back in.
It would be easy to keep yelling, screaming, blaming you for blowing up on him. He used to think the scolding he got from you after pulling some stupid stunt was the worst part; but now, he thinks it might be his favorite part. He hates to hear you scream, and it hurts to see you cry, but if you’re yelling, you’re angry that he hurt himself; you care that he’s okay.
“I—” he stutters, words quiet and broken, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get like this tonight, it was an accident I—”
“You never mean for any of it to happen, yet it always does,” you interrupt, voice soft yet strained, “I know you have your own shit to deal with, but so does everybody else.”
“(_____), please, you’re right, okay? I should have said something before,” he admits, mouth small as he voices his confessions, “I should have talked to you or one of the boys, but I—I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
He’s groveling now. Mouth in pout, eyes wide, voice small, and honestly, he thinks he might cry. At this point he doesn’t care if he does.
“I want you to mean it,” you finally say, and when he looks up, he hates the look he sees in your eyes. It’s something between sad and hurt and empty and it’s awful. Someone like you shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t make you feel that way.
“When you’re ready to tell me exactly what’s going on with you—what’s happening that made you think going to jail would be better than facing your issues—I’ll be here to talk,” you continue, eyes watering, “But until then, goodnight, Eren.”
Eren winces when you turn around and ascend up the remaining stairs. He flirts with the idea of following you, going to your room to finish talking, but you’re probably angry enough to have it locked. His room is up there, too, but he opts for part of the sectional, laying down with the palms of his hands kneading against his closed eyelids.
For as long as he can remember, you’ve been there for him. Your friendship, at times, was like a game of tag—Eren always on the run with you loyally chasing after him; he’d always run amuck, and you’d always be there to catch him in the act. Now, it’s five in the morning, there’s no more yelling, no more chasing, no more racing, but he’s still running.
The following morning, you take Armin out to brunch, as promised. Jean tags along too, something about hanging out with the two of you being infinitely more entertaining than his genetics lecture. It doesn’t seem like Jean knows anything about Armin and Eren’s late night antics, so you don’t bring it up yourself.
Oblivious, Jean chats your ears off as if nothing is awry. Whether he knows it or not, he does a great job of distracting Armin from his own thoughts. They both eat to their heart’s content when you remind them you’ll foot the bill; and you don’t bat an eye when Jean convinces Armin to order his third round of pancakes. He deserves it.
Afterwards, Jean convinces the three of you to go window shopping with him in SoHo, claiming that he needed inspiration for his latest fashion assignment (you don’t question why he’s taking a fashion class as a biology major, but you suspect it has something to do with Mikasa). Window shopping soon turns into actual shopping, so almost completely unprompted, and with little effort on his part, Armin gets a few pieces of clothing on your behalf, while you try to ignore Eren’s words itching at the back of your mind.
Armin’s not a baby, but he certainly is a kid with a rough past and rough relationship with his parents at a time in his life where he arguably needs them the most. A little extra support from his friends wouldn’t harm him.
It’s nearing six when the three of you are wedged in a small booth inside a café, indulging in overpriced hot chocolate. Three sips into his second cup, Jean excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you sitting across from Armin.
“You know, you don’t have to keep buying me stuff to make up for Eren,” Armin says, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I’m not trying to make up for him,” you sputter, careful not to spill your drink over your lap, “You had a rough night. Just accept my gifts, don’t be a brat.”
“I do accept them. Erwin’s been eyeing that Off White sweater for, like, three weeks now. He’s gonna have a hissy fit when he sees me wearing it.” You chuckle, and he continues, “But you know, as much I love spending time with you, you can’t use me to avoid Eren forever.”
“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.
“You said you were going to take us to brunch, and then spent the whole day with us.”
“Funny, I recall you saying something about how much you love my company about thirty seconds ago.”
“He’s called you at least ten times today.”
“I was spending the day with my favorite NYU student… and Jean,” you bat your lashes, “I see you maybe once a week. I live with Eren, I have to see him every day.”
Armin calls your name with a pout, “He’s sorry, you know.”
“Not sorry enough,” you mumble. Armin opens his mouth to say something again, but then Jean’s sliding back into the booth, chatting about how he’s finally come up with the perfect anniversary date for Mikasa.
Armin doesn’t notice your sigh of relief, but he does take note of the way you wipe away your notifications when a text rings through. If Eren could spend his days running away from his problems, then you could, too.
Despite being arguably the greediest of you all, Jean loves company, so he doesn’t hesitate to say yes when you ask to crash at his place after your shopping escapades. You expect to be welcomed with sounds of screaming, laughter, and loud music, but to your surprise his apartment is completely silent upon your entering.
“Bertholdt has class and Marco has a meeting,” he prompts, as if he could read your thoughts. He shimmies his coat off his shoulders and tosses it over the bar in the foyer.
Their apartment has the same amount of rooms as yours and Eren’s, but is all stretched along a single floor. It’s more of a maze, really, with intricate turns, and hallways, that all more or less open up into the expanse of the foyer and bar. Their living room is your favorite part. A dark, brown leather sectional wraps around the back three walls and an oversized flatscreen encased in an ebony frame takes center stage. A collection of vinyl records litters the walls above the couch; each of the boys contributing their favorite discs as décor.
“If he has class, shouldn’t you have class?” you question, fingers dragging over the ridges of the closest record.
“I’ve had class all day, but that doesn’t mean I go,” Jean shrugs, walking up behind you and taking your jacket off your shoulders and your bag from your hand, “Besides, Bertholdt will probably cut half-way to go see Reiner, if he can even stay awake that long. Going with him is just as productive as staying home.”
“You’re all a mess,” you scoff, turning around as a cheesy grin grows on Jean’s lips. His smile is infectious, and soon you catch yourself grinning just because.
“You want something to drink?” he offers, throwing your coat over his elbow and tilting his head in the direction of the bar.
“You’re bad at mixing drinks,” you remind him, but follow him anyway.
Jean laughs, not bothering to deny the jab. He doesn’t try his hand at anything mixed or complicated this time; simply offering you a glass of your favorite red, and pouring himself a smaller amount.
He puts the album you were gawking at earlier on the record player, the two of you sinking into the couch as lovely melodies radiate throughout the apartment.
He spends the first hour bitching about how Marco’s supposed to become a CEO in less than a year, yet has the attention span of a squirrel; but the playful lilt in the brunette’s voice, and the begrudging smile on his face lets you know that it’s all love. He gushes about Mikasa for a good half hour, cramming you with stories about his girlfriend’s talent for sewing and fashion. You also learn that Bertholdt’s been busier than usual these days, and Jean suspects it has something to do with a secret lover.
You pinch your eyebrows at his hunch. Bertholdt’s never been one for dating. He’s had many friends with benefits in the past, but they weren’t relationships, nor were they secrets. In fact, you don’t think that he could keep a secret to save his life.
“Why would he be hiding it if he were seeing someone?” you question, swirling your newly refilled glass.
“Dunno,” Jean shrugs, “But it’s sus, I’m telling you. He’s been oddly busy for someone with a 2.3 GPA. Either way, I’ll pry it out of him eventually.”
“You’re so fucking nosey,” you chuckle, watching the mischievous, satisfied grin settle onto his features.
“I kinda think it’s Armin,” Jean says after a while, downing the remaining wine in his cup, while you choke on your own drink.
“Why on Earth do you think if Bertholdt had a secret lover that it’d be Armin?”
“Because he was in love with him for, like, two years in high school,” Jean says, as if the information should be painfully obvious.
“Yeah, and Bert also hooked up with a million different people in high school.”
“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with Armin.”
“I don’t think Armin’s kissed another human, let alone is in a secret relationship with one.”
“Hm, true. I forget he’s still a virgin.”
“Hey—there’s nothing wrong with Armin being a virgin, leave him be.”
“I know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Jean whines, “But it’s so—he doesn’t have to be. Armin’s cute! And very attractive—dare I even say sexy. He could go outside and get laid right now if he just tried.”
“Stay humble, Jean boy. If I remember correctly, you only started breaking hearts a year ago,” you tut. Jean’s nose goes pink as he shoves you away when you continue, “But, if you’re so concerned with Armin’s virginity, why don’t you go help him out with it.”
“Actually, if I remember correctly, I think that’s more your gig,” he shoots back, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “Not to mention, I’m not trying to get beat up by Annie. Though, I wonder how much longer it’ll take before she finally snaps. Hey, maybe the both of you can tag team him, I’m sure Annie wouldn’t mind, and it might even make Armin less nervous to have you—”
It’s your turn to shove him now, throwing in an extra punch when his head bobs back with laughter. You’re very certain Annie would mind; you would mind if someone inserted themself in your kind of, sort of, not really relationship, and ruined your four years of pining.
“Speaking of lovers,” Jean prompts, once his laughter dies down, bending his knee and turning closer to you. “Why are you and lover boy fighting? Trouble in paradise?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum, sipping your drink in between words. Jean’s eyes pinch together. “Marco and I would never fight.”
“My god, will you let your Marco fantasies go already? You’ve already caused him one sexuality crisis,” Jean groans, “You know I mean Eren.”
You sigh, lowering your glass and reaching forward to pinch his cheek. “It’s nothing you have to worry your pretty little head over.”
“Please,” he scoffs, flicking your offending hand back, “He’s been texting us nonstop since this morning at, like, nine. I didn’t even know he was capable of waking up before noon.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but Jean continues, “Why he would ask us for advice on you is beyond me. He knows you better than all of us combined.”
“And why you’re saying all of this is beyond me.”
“Oh, come on, what’d he do,” Jean pushes, borderline whines, as he puts his empty glass down in a cup holder embedded in the couch. He’s always been the most prone to gossip, but you forget that wine makes him even more of a nosey prick. “Must have been pretty bad. Or stupid.”
“Try both,” you mumble, “Well—I don’t know, it wasn’t… the worst thing anyone could do, but it was really fucking reckless—and why he did it, I couldn’t even tell you. I don’t know what goes through his mind half the time, but I swear he must have been on crack last night.”
“He probably was. On crack, I mean. I told you, I took an ounce from him over the weekend, but that was after Eren and Ymir did, like, five lines.”
“Do they really do that regularly?” you nearly cry, a hand massaging your temple, “Fucking Christ, if he really was high while driving, I’ll kill him myself.”
“Well, I don’t know if regular is the right word,” Jean ponders, “Maybe for Ymir, but god knows what she’s on half the time, anyways. Besides, coke isn’t the worst thing they could do.”
“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs, pausing when you shoot him a disapproving look, “Oh, come on! You’re no angel, either—if memory serves, you were high as shit at Moblit’s birthday party, and kept singing the star spangled banner all night.”
“Yeah, on weed! One time! It was on a rooftop and the stars were out and it has the same rhythm as the happy birthday song, cut me some slack!”
He finds laughing at your expense to be much more fun, however, as he continues to chuckle while you throw a fit. He’s also not one to let a topic of gossip go undiscussed, and has no problem bringing the conversation back to Eren.
“It’s because you two don’t talk, you know,” Jean tuts, “That’s why you fight like this.”
For the second time, the younger’s words have your eyebrows growing close together. “I mean, I guess—but it’s more than that. Eren and I live together, we obviously talk, but—”
“I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay? You and Eren talk about a lot of things, yeah, but you also… don’t. And sometimes you don’t have to, because you guys, like… get each other.”
“Wow. What a way with words you have, Jean Kirstein. You should write a self-help book.”
“What I mean,” he sneers, unhappy with the sarcasm being thrown his way, “Is that you guys understand each other in weird ways. It’s actually kind of cute—sometimes a little freaky, in all honesty. It’s why you don’t always have to talk about serious things. But you take it for granted and let shit bottle up, and then get in denial about it until you blow up in each other’s faces.”
“Please, you barely passed one philosophy class and now you think you’re Plato.”
“You’re doing the in denial thing right now!” he taunts, “Come one, when you two fight like this, what’s it usually about?”
You sigh, sinking back into the plush leather of the couch, and wrapping your hands around a fluffy throw pillow. Thinking about arguing with Eren isn’t particularly something you like to do, and truthfully, you don’t really get pissed at each other that often. Not to the point of ignoring each other, at least.
“I don’t know,” you drawl, “Drugs, me forgetting things, him doing stupid shit, him thinking Mikasa could do better than you, school, drinking, the fact that he leaves his big ass shoes at the top of the stairs for me to trip over and fall to my death every morning, when—”
“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.
“I—we don’t really… it’s not so much fighting over his parents, it’s all the stuff he does to deal with his parents. He never gives his mom’s boyfriends a chance, and he never really talks about why, either. I know he’s secretly just angry and insecure about his dad, but… I don’t know. That doesn’t really make it better.”
“True,” he nods, “See—he doesn’t talk about it.”
“I know, and I told him that last night, too, but… it’s a sensitive subject for him—his dad, I mean,” you sigh, “And you’re right, he shouldn’t bottle his feelings up, but, on the other hand he’s watched his mom get married five times. I don’t always blame him for not wanting to talk about it.”
“Yeah, but just because it’s hard to talk about doesn’t mean he shouldn’t,” Jean lolls, “Wouldn’t you have rather he said something than have done whatever stupid shit he did to make you want to sleep here tonight?”
“Okay, Socrates, I get it,” you lighten up, “I’ll talk to him—or get him to talk to me. Are you happy?”
“Quite,” he says, annoyingly chipper as he rises from the couch. “I hate seeing my favorite power couple fighting.”
Jean knows his words would elicit a slap to his arm, so he takes off just before you can reach him, prompting you to chase him out of the living room and down the hall. The brunette cackles ridiculously loudly as you scream his name with profanities sprinkled in-between. You catch a hold of the bottom of his shirt and pull him back, finally flicking him on the forehead.
He accepts his punishment with pride, offering you a signature smile in return while you both catch your breaths. It’s a sweet moment, the two of you looking at each other with stupid smiles on your face, exhalations tickling your cheeks.
Jean’s eyes break the gaze first, as he looks down the remainder of your face, and back up to your eyes again. His words could get caught in his throat, but he doesn’t let them—he shakes his head, and swiftly turns around, beckoning for you to follow him.
“Come on, we can steal Marco’s clothes for your pajamas this time.”
Jean spends all of three minutes pulling apart Marco’s dresser before swiping a t-shirt and Christmas themed pajama bottoms from his room. He tosses them in your direction before leading you back down the hall and to the left, opening the door to the guest bedroom for you, before leaving you to change.
They have more than one guest bedroom, but this one is unofficially yours. Little pieces of you can be found littered throughout the room, from spare jewelry to mismatched makeup. You spot a single, gold, teardrop shaped earring on the vanity and sigh as you run your fingers over it.
You swear you’d lost it a few months ago. Trust Jean to put it away for safekeeping without telling you he’d found it. The boy in question returns moments later, knocking while walking through the door with your purse in hand.
“How’d you know I was about to ask you to get that?” you question, a smile on your face as you retrieve the small bag from his hands.
Jean offers you a cocky grin, “Cause I’m the best.”
“Don’t go getting a big head, now,” you tease, “Or, well, an even bigger head.”
Jean ignores your insult, as you take a seat at the edge of the bed, fishing through your bag for your phone to plug it in for the night. He’s about to turn around and bid you goodnight, when the flash of something orange peeping out of your purse prompts his next thought.
“Hey, you picked up your refill, right?” he asks innocently, “It should have been ready last Thursday.”
You sigh, head falling slightly when you close your bag and place it on the vanity. “Uh… no.”
Jean’s mouth is already open, ready with equally friendly and scolding words, but you cut him off before he can talk. “I was going to on Thursday, but I had class late, and then I forgot on Friday and I haven’t really had time since then. But I have a few left-overs from the last two months, so I’ve been taking those!”
Jean’s mouth closes, but his eyes narrow as he begins to walk towards you. You know he’s putting two and two together, so you speak ahead of him again.
“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have any left over, but it’s only five, I promise! I’ve been really good, lately.”
Jean’s eyes remain in concentrated slits, but his resolve is waning when he reads over your expression. His facade fades as he takes the final steps towards you to stand directly in front of your body.
“Okay,” he says, voice soft through his smile, “I’ll go with you to pick them up tomorrow before I drop you home, yeah?”
It elates him more than it should to see the smile you flash his way. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived, as his next question leaves your face twisted with guilt.
“Have you… told Eren yet?”
You consider lying and saying yes, but something tells you Jean won’t buy it. Your silence seems to speak loud enough, as his shoulders drop with a quiet sigh.
“I want to, I just… well I’m mad at him right now, and even when I’m not… I don’t know why it’s so hard,” you confess.
“He’d wanna know, you know,” Jean says, and it’s not the first time he’s said it to you, either. “You know he wouldn’t judge you or anything.”
“I know that. But, truthfully, if I had things my way, not even you would know, Jean.”
It was an accident that Jean found out that you’d been taking anxiety medication.
It was at somebody’s house party where the majority of your friends and their guests had gotten piss drunk. Reiner’s date had suggested mixing their alcohol with molly she’d supposedly had in her bag. In her drunken stupor, she’d mistaken your purse for her own, but luckily, a not so drunk Jean had noticed the label didn’t match her name, and snagged the bottle before the worst could happen.
They ended up not finding her molly, anyway, but it’s a moot point. Jean had cornered you about the bottle later in the week with honest intentions; he’d been concerned that might be another kind of drug disguised by a prescription veil. However, you’d assured him that it was indeed your prescribed Lexapro, and not a shady mixture of black market substances.
And, he’d been more than understanding in the aftermath. Quite frankly, he had somewhat made it his business to ensure that you got and took your medication on time and felt comfortable getting to and from your therapy appointments.
It’s endearing in a way that made you pause and count your blessings sometimes. Jean had been nothing but unequivocally supportive in his understanding about anxiety and had gone the extra mile to comfort you where need be. It made you wonder why you hesitated to tell Eren on several occasions.
It was probably the very nature of anxiety itself that had you doubting your trust in Eren. You wanted to tell him—of course you did—but, you couldn’t. You know that Eren would do everything in his power to make it better, even if that was just being. You know that he’d want to know and he’d kill to understand. But you couldn’t possibly burden him with your problems, not when he has a million of his own.
The one person in the world you wanted to tell, you were terrified of talking to. And you know it’s irrational to be afraid of him, but you can’t seem to control those thoughts. It’s a tiring, consuming, endless cycle.
Jean watches the way your gaze lowers to the floor. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, and, god, he swears if he could take that train of thought away from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
With a heavy heart and tired eyes, he takes a final step forward and wraps his arms around your body. He counts three, four seconds before you hug him back. He raises a hand to the back to your head, cradling your face into his shoulder and squeezing you tightly.
“Hey, I’m proud of you, you know that,” he speaks, just a notch above a whisper, “I know you’ll tell him when you’re ready.”
“I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. You hug him back a little tighter and close your eyes, “Thank you, Jean.”
And Jean holds on, and hopes you know that he wouldn’t let you go, “You’re welcome, (_____).”
You come home to find your entire apartment littered with flowers; in the hallway, on the sectional, atop the counter, up the stairs.
There are several boxes of your favorite macarons stacked in a small pyramid on the kitchen island, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you checked the labels to find that they were shipped straight from the south of France this morning. There’s too many bottles of Ace on the coffee table, sparkling next to a basket of what looks like your regular skincare products. A pretty, gold bow rests atop an even prettier pair of red-bottomed heels, and if you’re not mistaken, that’s a limited edition, vintage YSL clutch on the sectional, resting against your favorite throw pillow.
You sigh, making your way to the couch to pick up the orange envelope sticking out of the handbag. Just as you’re about to open it, you hear footsteps, and a voice that follows.
“You’re back,” Eren chirps from mid-way on the staircase, “I, uh, there’s catering coming from Butter coming soon. I know it’s your favorite,” he continues as he descends the stairs.
He has his hand on the back of his neck and there’s a faint, pink tint to his cheeks as he slowly makes his way towards you. You cross your arms, looking him up and down when he stands in front of you.
He’s wearing dark jeans and a tweed sweater with patches at the elbow. His hair is split down the middle, longer than usual, so the ends of sweep over his eyelashes; and there are telltale signs that he’d been toying with it.
“Eren, what is all of this?” you finally ask, shifting your weight to your right leg.
“Part one of my apology and explanation,” he replies, a hopeful timbre to his voice. You roll your eyes, but he continues anyway, “Actually, part two is in that envelope.”
Skeptical, you unfold your arms and open the envelope. You don’t know what you were expecting—a card, maybe tickets to a musical or something; but what you definitely weren’t expecting were two tickets to Paris.
“France?” you look up, tickets in hand, “You don’t get it do you? You can’t just buy all of this shit, jet us off to Europe and expect everything to be okay.”
“No, no it’s not like that—I swear!” he interjects, hands moving sporadically, “It’s just, well… Can we sit? Then I can explain everything.”
Eren looks at you with those big green eyes and that sad pout to his lips, and you find yourself sighing and taking a seat on the couch against your better judgement. There’s a small smile to his lips when you do—a little victory—and he sits next to you, your knees resting against each other as you face him.
He’s shaking, and your resolve to punish him with whatever solid exterior and half-assed silent treatment dissolves as you take his left hand in your right, and recall your conversation with Jean. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Eren. You can talk to me.”
When he feels your smaller hand envelop his, the shaking stops, and for a moment, it feels like he can do this, like everything is okay. He smiles, and takes a deep breath.
“The other night, you were right, about my mom and her boyfriend coming home,” he starts, words slow and heavy, “I didn’t even know she was coming—I knew she was visiting this month, but she didn’t tell me when, and I thought it was going to be just her, you know? But then she showed up with him, and, well, I don’t know. I was upset. She’s been home for a week now, and we haven’t even gone to dinner or anything.”
He pauses, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “We were supposed to get lunch on Thursday, but she cancelled. Had some meeting or something, I don’t know, I don’t care. Friday comes and she says she wants to have dinner, right?”
You nod, he continues. “I thought it was just going to be us, but he was there. That’s when she told me that… that they’re…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “They’re engaged.”
Your mouth falls into a small o-shape. Everything made perfect sense now.
It’s not that Eren didn’t love his mother, quite the opposite actually. He’s a mama’s boy through and through; she’s his role model, his everything, he adores her. Her career as a designer often takes her on long business trips, most frequently as prolonged stays in Paris, so much so that she relocated her primary office there shortly after Eren graduated high school.
Now, she only visits home for one or two weeks at a time, sometimes only for the weekend. Upon her decision to permanently relocate, she planned to leave Eren under the unofficial supervision of Mikasa. Instead, Eren bought Mikasa her own three-bedroom apartment in Midtown (according to his logic, it was better for her to have her own place than to move in with Jean), and a shared two-story penthouse for the both of you that overlooks Central Park.
Eren misses her more than he cares to admit, but he puts on the same facade every time she comes home because he hates the company she brings.
Paris is where she met her newest boyfriend, Mitchell, and Eren swears he hates that man with every fiber of his being. It’s not saying much, though, not when Eren’s hated every single one of his mother’s past romantic partners, right down to his own father.
“Is… is that why you—”
“Rented a brand new Corvette and went drag racing at one in the morning?” he chuckles, “Yeah. It was stupid, I know, but I was just angry, I guess. I dunno what I was feeling, but it wasn’t good.”
You nod, wrapping both of your hands around his now and offering him a warm smile. He smiles back, just for a moment. “That’s what the tickets are for, actually. The wedding.”
“They’re getting married in France?” you question, to which he nods, “On the first? Isn’t that a little short notice to plan a wedding?”
“I think you’re underestimating the power of Carla Jaeger,” he chuckles, “Apparently, it’s been in the works for a few months now. He proposed with fireworks or some shit. Said she wanted to tell me in person, though.”
“This ticket is for next week,” you say, rereading the dates on the papers. “The wedding is three weeks from now.”
“Well, I kind of figured we could take a little vacation before then,” he grins, “I texted most of the boys earlier, and they can probably come to the wedding, but I want to spend some time with you before it gets hectic, you know? Consider it an end of the semester present.”
Your eyes flicker down to your hand, still wrapped around Eren’s, when he starts to trace circles into your skin, “I thought I just told you, you can’t jet us off to Europe to fix things.”
“You did,” he hums, “And I know I can’t—I’m not trying to, I just… Truthfully, I reserved the plane and the hotel a few weeks back and it really was just going to be a surprise for us—well, more like a gift for you because I know you’ve been busting your ass in chem—but then… everything else happened, and I think a break sounds perfect before I watch my mom get married for the sixth time.”
You watch him continue to toy with your hands for a while, processing your conversation. It was typical of Eren to surprise you like this, so you can’t figure out why this particular present leaves you feeling warmer than usual.
“You sure you don’t need a break from me?”
Eren beams and takes the opportunity to lace your fingers together. “Nah, you’re annoying, but not Jean level annoying.”
You scoff, “I’m telling him you said that.”
“It’ll sound better coming from you, anyway,” he shrugs, “Besides, I might just murder Mitchell if you’re not there with me.”
You chuckle, on the verge of accepting his proposal, but the mention of Jean prompts another thought to cross through your mind. “I’d love to, but I… I don’t know. I don’t want Armin to spend the first few weeks of winter break here all alone.”
This Christmas would mark one year since Armin had seen, or even talked to, any of his immediate family members, with the exception of Erwin.
Last year, you all tried to salvage the damage by sticking around so, at the very least, he didn’t have to feel alone. You and your friends decided that Armin ought to be celebrated, not ostracized for any aspect of himself, so you all chipped in for a cute, impromptu trip to the Catskills so that everyone could be together and close to home.
This year, however, there seemed to be quite a few conflicts of interest. Even if Armin was one of the boys who was planning on attending the wedding, you doubt he had plans leading up to it. You know that Marco, Bertholdt, Mikasa, and Jean had invited him to go to Aspen with them, but Armin declined the offer. Similarly, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Reiner, and Ymir would be off to Dubai as soon as classes ended; an invitation Armin had also turned down.
You weren’t sure what Erwin’s plans were, though you’re certain they involved his own friends in some way or another. At the very least, it was unlikely that he would leave his younger brother completely stranded over the break; but you didn’t want to make plans without knowing Armin wouldn’t be alone.
“He won’t, actually he’ll be closer than you think,” Eren reassures you, “Hange and Moblit wanted to go skiing anyways, so Erwin is taking all of them to the Alps instead of Aspen. Armin doesn’t know yet, but he’s going with them.”
“Shouldn’t Erwin spend his break campaigning, and not skiing? Last I checked, he wasn’t too popular in Queens”
“Ah, you know Erwin,” Eren shrugs, “He has a way of making people devote themselves to him. He’ll win the election with or without campaigning, trust me—the point is, that little baby Armin will be safe and sound under Erwin’s protection, and you don’t have to worry about him.”
“How come you get to call him a baby?”
“Because I’m a hypocritical asshole who doesn’t deserve you, but is hoping you’ll come with me anyway.”
Eren smirks, but there’s a genuine undertone to his words as he moves his fingers to toy with the ring around your pointer finger. The same one he gave to you two Christmases ago. Well, kind of.
The ring he originally gifted you was a Harry Winston piece, with an encrusted band that wrapped into two sunflowers, both made of classic, white diamonds with emeralds sparkling in the center. After seeing the design, and the price tag, you demanded that he take it back, or at the very least, get it sized to fit on your index finger or thumb so that people didn’t get the wrong idea.
Instead, he came back with a simple, silver chain for the original ring to hang from, and the current ring on your finger; a rose gold band with tiny diamonds studded around it. Likely equally as expensive, but more appropriate according to you.
“Fine. But you have to be on your best behavior,” you agree, paying no mind to Eren’s thumb twirling your jewelry, “Do you promise me no drag racing or antics of any sort while we’re there?”
Eren shakes his head at the memory, eyeing the first ring that sits against your chest.
He smiles. “I do.”
The afternoon after your last exam, you bid the remainder of your friends goodbye, grab your bags, and hop on a plane with Eren. It arrives in Paris, but you’re rerouted off to Nice before you can so much as blink at the Eiffel tower; you’d be staying there for the two and half weeks leading up to the wedding, in a small villa.
You had to hand it to him, Eren really outdid himself. It’s dark and nearing three in the morning when you arrive, but even in your sleepy stupor you can admire your accommodations. The villa is secluded, the perfect distance from the water, and decorated lavishly almost to your exact liking. You wouldn’t be surprised if Eren sprung it on you that he’d bought the place, and wasn’t merely renting it for this vacation.
Every day after that, Eren proves he was honest in his intentions of this being a getaway gift to you. He’s planned every activity under the sun—from hot air balloon rides, to helicopter tours, to jet-skiing. The days are certainly fun and filled with beautiful memories, but there’s something special about Nice at sunset; something about the sound of gentle waves brushing up against the beach, and the spotlights carved from sun-cast shadows on the buildings.
It’s just after dinner time, bordering on your eighth night here, when you and Eren are walking along the cobblestone streets that border the beach, the length of your sundress flowing every which way with the breeze, and the tail of Eren’s blazer flailing like a cape behind him.
He looks nice tonight, but, truthfully, he always does. He claimed he hadn’t put on the casual green suit because of your outfit, but you swear he was wearing khakis before he saw your dress. The tips of his ears go red when you tease him about it at dinner, but it doesn’t really matter to you; he would have looked good, regardless. Those suits are made for him, after all; tailored to fit perfectly, and designed by his own mother.
The streets tend to settle down after six, locals and tourists retreating indoors or heading to the beach to relax and draw in the evening. Tonight, however, there’s much more commotion than usual on your route.
“Maybe we should take the long way,” you suggest. On the tips of your toes, you realize that there’s some kind of special event happening in the square, filled with lights and music that grows louder with every step you take.
But the crowd and the lights and the smell of food only piques Eren’s interest. “No way—let’s check it out!”
You don’t have the time to refute before his long legs surpass your own stride, headfirst into the sea of people. You can only follow with a smile and a shake of your head. The soft green of his suit jacket serves as your guide as he navigates through the crowd, but the closer you get to the center, the more people there are.
You can feel palms of your hands growing uncomfortably warm as you become hyperaware of just how many people there are. You clutch the end of your dress in your hand, for both practicality and as a sort of comfort mechanism, as you try your best to calm the anxious wave threatening to crash against you.
With a deep breath, you begin to walk again, unaware of Eren’s actions until you physically walk into his hand, long fingers poking at your belly. You hadn’t realized he stopped walking, or that you’d caught up with him, and your eyebrows crinkle when you look down to see Eren’s left hand extended behind him and towards you, palm facing upwards.
He doesn’t say anything, or look back at you at all. Only wraps his larger fingers around yours when he feels the weight of your hand in his, and continues to guide you through the crowd, his pace slower, and hand firm around yours.
The mass of people becomes more spread out when you approach what appears to be the center of the event; and it looks like a party, maybe a wedding of some sort. There’s food and champagne galore, and more than enough happy guests dancing along to upbeat music in the streets.
Eren’s eyes light up as he takes in the scene, “You wanna dance?”
“What—Eren, no!” you refuse, “We cannot crash these people’s party!”
“Why not?” he counters, without a care in the world, “Seems like an open invitation to me! Come on!”
And for the second time that evening, you find yourself being pulled into his schemes; this time in the direction of the open space dubbed dance floor.
You’re both terrible and ostentatious and people start to watch, but it doesn’t matter because you’re smiling too wide and laughing too hard to care. Eren has a way of moving both with and against the music, forcing your body to follow his lead.
He shouts something over the noise, but you don’t have time to register his words before he laces your right hand with his left, and places his right hand on your waist. There’s a blink of confusion for a moment before you’re being swept off your feet and into a dramatic dip. You don’t have time to secure yourself against his shoulders, but Eren does a fine job of supporting you with a single arm against your back.
From what you can tell the song is far from over and the dramatic pose is completely unwarranted, but you and the crowd alike are victim to his charm. You indulge yourself, looking up at him with eyes too fond to memorize every feature of his face in this moment; the way he’s laughing with that big, dumb, wide smile of his that makes his nose crinkle and his eyes light up.
You’re too busy looking at him to hear Eren’s voice calling out to you, or even realize that he’s moved you from your pose to standing back upright. He’s equal parts amused and concerned at the glazed over look in your eyes.
“Hello? Anybody home up there?” he teases, elongating the vowels and squeezing your waist to alert you.
The reminder of his hands on your hips pulls you back to reality, your eyes fluttering down to his arms, then back to his face. It feels stuffy suddenly, too close to function.
“Yea—yeah! Do you wanna get a drink? Yeah, let’s get a drink!” you exclaim, haphazardly pointing and walking towards the food.
You don’t see it, but Eren looks on with glittering eyes, his verbal agreement heard only by himself as you veer towards the buffet. He can still feel your body in his grip, still see the specks of gold in your pupils as he lingers on the back of your silhouette lovingly. And before you can realize, he snaps himself out of it—an out of body experience similar to yours a few moments ago—before catching up with you.
You end up socializing for much longer than intended. Eren makes friends with everyone, to no surprise, and, uncharacteristically, you feel influenced by his actions, and converse with a few people yourself. You let him take the lead, though. Partially because he’s better at it, and partially because you just like listening to him speak French.
“Hey, we should probably get out of here,” he whispers into your ear after waving goodbye to a lovely couple you’d just met, “Before the host of this party realizes we’re miles better than his actual guests.”
You nod with a smile, more than happy to play by his rules for the evening. He offers you his hand again, that same, dopey smile on his face when you take it.
He leads you out of the crowd and back on to the path to your villa, the smell of warm food and sounds of vibrant music growing dull as you venture further from the celebration. It’s much darker than it was when you began your trek back from the restaurant, but beautiful all the same.
Your sandals pad against the wooden dock that leads up the villa, and Eren unlocks the door silently, ushering you inside before entering behind you.
“I know I said I wanted to leave, but I’m not really tired yet,” Eren confesses, pulling his blazer off of his shoulders.
“Me neither,” you say, placing your small wristlet on the table with a shrug, “What do you wanna do though, I’m not—”
“Great!” he cuts you off, smile too big. You narrow your own in suspicion. That tone of voice with that look on his face usually meant something mischievous, at best. “Remember when you said the first time you’d smoke would be with me, and then pranced away and took a bowl from Hange and got high as shit at Moblit’s party?”
“Why does everyone remember Moblit’s party but me!”
“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, waving the topic away, “Anyway… Do you wanna smoke now?”
You blink. “I… did you… smuggle weed all the way to France?”
“No, of course not!” he refutes, “…I got it here.”
You scoff, but don’t have the time to question him further before Eren’s tugging on your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. You take to sitting on your bed while he rummages through his suitcase to retrieve a small, clear jar with several rolled joints inside and a lighter to match.
He shuffles next to you in the bed, mindlessly handing you the lighter while he unscrews the top off the jar. He takes out two of the joints, places one next to the jar on the nightstand, and tucks the other between his teeth. He asks you to hand him the lighter, and you do so wordlessly, distracted by the sight of Eren’s gaze and the blunt poking out his mouth.
“This’ll be fun, yeah?” He reassures you, “Technically, you let Hange take your weed virginity, but I’ll be better.”
“Can you not phrase it like that,” you roll your eyes, “You already took my virginity virginity, don’t be bitter.”
An all too smug grin settles on his features as he recounts the fact. “Besides,” you tack on, “I’ve never done it like this before. So, it’s still a first, kind of.”
Eren cups one hand around the joint, sparking the lighter with the other until it catches fire. He inhales, slow and deliberate, as if he were putting on a show, or a lesson, of sorts, taking the smoke into his lungs and out through his mouth.
You’d gravely miscalculated how attractive Eren would look doing this. Sure, he’s hot, you knew that, but the pronunciation of his jawline when he exhales, and the confidence with which he drags on the blunt is a stark reminder to you. He takes a few more hits, just as slow and sensual as the first, and the room begins to feel warmer.
“Come closer,” be beckons, smoke rolling off of his tongue with every syllable.
You snap yourself out of the haze of your imagination and scoot closer to him. He silently hands you the joint, and it feels heavy between your fingers. At the distance, you take in the smell—pungent and off-putting, but too familiar.
Eventually, you bring it to your lips, careful not to let your tongue press against the tip, and inhale slowly, like you’d seen Eren do before. You do your best to hold the smoke in your lungs for a bit, but seeing as the last time you did this you were amped up on adrenaline and drunk off your ass, the task proves to be much more difficult. It tickles before becoming uncomfortable and you exhale ungracefully, puffs of smoke punctuating your coughs.
Eren watches with a grin, amused at the sight of you fanning the excess smoke away with your nose scrunched in distaste. “You should have warned me you were gonna cough like a bitch.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you whine, trying to hide the hint of a smile creeping onto your face. You hand the blunt back to him, “You’re supposed to teach me, not tease me, asshole.”
Eren pauses his laughter, unsure of what to make of your tone; rushed, a bit embarrassed, but testy. It’s quiet while he stares at you, trying not to let the implication of your words run wild in his mind; but it’s futile when you’re pouting like that, the room is growing foggier, and he’s been semi-hard since you accepted his offer.
“Fine. Watch and learn,” he breathes, words coming out more jagged than he’d intended.
This time, he completely exaggerates every motion; he inhales at a tantalizing pace and flutters his eyes closed while he lets the smoke swish in his mouth, down his throat, and expand into his lungs. He cranes his neck upwards, and purses his lips to let the clouds exit in the streamline that follows the slope of his jaw.
Maybe it’s the drugs getting to you, but your mind is filled with nothing but sheer clouds that aren’t thick enough to block out thoughts of Eren. The weed is unattractive, potent in smell, and all kinds of wrong; yet, everything about him is soft, sultry, and pulls you in.
“Wanna try again, or do you need another lesson?”
You faintly mutter a profanity under your breath. His words end with giggles, a sign the drugs have already begun to take their effect on him, his expression is still smug. You forget Eren knows just how attractive he is. Motherfucker.
“Actually,” he cuts your train of thought, “I have a better idea, come ‘ere.”
Eren beckons you forward again, closing the gap between your legs so that your knees graze each other under the fabric of your clothing while you’re sat next to each other. He leans over, far too close into your personal space, as if to test something; he freezes when his nose is mere inches from your face, a dissatisfied scrunch taking over his features.
He reinstates his hold on your wrist, motioning your body backwards until your back is against the frame of the bed. He hums in approval, positioning himself next to you again, equally as close, but far more comfortable for what he has planned next.
“I’m—I’m gonna try somethin’, okay?” he stutters, the first word mistakenly coming out in broken German, “Just, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be good, promise.”
You nod, unsure of what you’ve just signed off on, but you don’t have time to ask questions. Eren takes another hit, then passes the blunt to his non-dominant hand. He turns to face you, leans forward, and places his free hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer; the expanse of his palm leaving room for his thumb to venture over the bottom half of your cheek.
Eren pulls you in until your lips are millimeters apart, and he can see the pattern of your eyes in beautiful detail. He shifts his hand now so that the majority of it covers your face, the pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to pry your willing mouth open, and then, finally, exhales.
This time, you can taste it. It’s woodsy, and bitter, but the sweet undertones dance on your tongue. This time, there’s more to think about than just the smoke in your lungs; like the burn of Eren’s hand on your neck; the pressure of his thumb against your bottom lip; the proximity of his lips to yours; the look in his eyes.
“Feel good?” he doesn’t bother to pull away before asking, and the words ghost over your lips with the remaining smoke. You nod; he smiles. “Wanna try again?”
You let out a breathy note of affirmation, and then he’s inhaling and exhaling into you, and you welcome him with pried lips and a heavy thumping in your chest. The confidence with which he maneuvers his body and the drugs is nerve-wracking, yet comforting at the same time; he has an expertise and power that intimidates, but compels you to follow.
Together, you finish the first blunt, and Eren lights the second without missing a beat. His hands are more demanding this around; they guide you into submission, and he’s pleased to find that you’re willing to listen.
After the third exhale, you stop focusing on his hands, and more on his lips. After the fourth, you think you might be high—not to the stars as you infamously were during Moblit’s party—but with a comfortable, dull buzz in your head. Everything feels a little fuzzy, out of touch, but you host a burning want for something more, something tangible.
You don’t know it, but Eren feels the same.
After the fifth exhale, Eren pulls away, the blunt a simple stub as he flicks it away onto the night stand, and you miss him being too close. You miss his hands, you miss his warmth, you crave his touch.
“Eren,” you call, unable to think of or see anything but him in the haze. He answers with a strained, “Yeah?” keening towards the sound of your voice, wide eyes flitting all over your face.
It’s too much, too close, too hot. That’s when you cup his jaw, pull him forward, and meld your lips together.
Kissing Eren is painfully familiar, and unnervingly satisfying. It’s certainly not your first kiss with him; and, yet he has a way of making you feel like it is while reminding you of your history. His lips are soft, and they taste like smoke and the chapstick you swear by because he refuses to buy or test out his own.
You pull away too soon, gauging his reaction with blown-out eyes, before dipping forward to have him against you again. Then again, and again, and again, until Eren is tired of your leaving, and his hands are back on your neck.
This kiss is deeper, Eren searching to satisfy the hunger aching inside of him, and you’re happy to comply when his thumb is pressing at your lower lip again. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste a moment, brushing his tongue against yours experimentally, and then flush into your mouth.
He groans when you rake your fingers into his hair, and pulls back with a hissing noise when you scratch at his nape. Large hands move to grip at your waist, and he pulls you into his lap with a concentrated gaze—a brief second for him to admire the sight of you on top of him, before he resumes kissing you. He sucks on your tongue, rolls his past your teeth, and bites on your bottom lip.
You know he relishes in the sounds he elicits from you, and under any normal circumstance, you’re willing to put up a fight with him, but not now. Now, you let him unzip the back of your dress and snake his hands beneath the fabric. The rubbing motions of his hands turn into gripping, gripping into grinding, and eventually, an unfiltered moan slips past your lips when you feel Eren’s erection roll against you.
“Fuck,” he pulls back with a suck of your swollen lip, “You’re so hot.”
Eren quickly switches your positions so that he’s hovering over you. You chuckle lightly underneath him, taking the opportunity to run both your hands through his hair and cradle his head in your hold, “Haven’t done anything yet.”
“I know,” Eren murmurs, dipping his head down to press kisses into your neck, “Still so sexy. So pretty, always.”
Eren bites a hickey into your collar bone, and everywhere he can touch; your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your lips. Your moaning serves as the spark to keep him going, but he’s barely coherent himself the way you keep pulling at his hair and grinding yourself against him. Even through his clothes, you can feel how painfully hard he is.
He barely catches your tongue between his lips when you moan again, sucking harshly before bruising his lips over yours again. His hands are grabby again, finally pulling your dress completely off of your body, leaving it to form a puddle on the ground. They’re back on your as soon as possible, massaging over your tits, and running his index finger over your nipples.
“Eren... Eren, please,” you whimper, chest heaving as you look down at him. He rolls his index finger over your right nipple, with his left hand teasing the other with his thumb. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is a product of the weed, or just his glassy, borderline predatory stare, but it makes you shiver with pleasure when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks.
“I want you.”
“Want you, too,” Eren hums, pulling back with a thin trail of spit from your breast, before moving to give your left nipple the same treatment, “More than you know.”
You keen to him when he teases his teeth against you, finally having had enough you force him off of you with a tug of his hair. “Then take off your clothes.”
Eren blinks, wide-eyed but glazed all the same. He chuckles lightly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he nods. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, forgoing undoing the buttons, and pauses briefly with his hands over the zipper of his pants.
“Please tell me you’re not that gone that you forgot how to undo your zipper,” you tease him, chest still heaving from his previous ministrations. Eren smiles, doe-eyed and hazy, and shakes his head.
“No,” he reassures you, finally undoing his zipper and shimmying his pants off his legs, “Was trying to remember what underwear I was wearing. Didn't want it to be embarrassing.”
His honesty makes you laugh, and Eren pauses for a moment to soak it in. Even like this, even with him stumbling over the steps to undress himself, and you almost completely naked in front of him, he can make you smile. There’s something equally sexy and endearing about your giggles; a juxtaposition that makes him want to hug you or kiss you or something in between. And you—you like the look in his eyes even through your giggling; the way he smiles back and blushes and tells you exactly what he’s thinking.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, “Don’t think mine are particularly sexy either.”
Eren hums, shuffling back on to the bed so that he’s between your legs, and leans forward to kiss you again. He still can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, his fingers immediately flying to your underwear and peeling them off your legs, pulling you closer despite the lack of space between your bodies.
“Yeah, doesn’t matter,” Eren echos, tossing the offending item to the side, before cupping your face in his hands, “I’d still wanna fuck you in your granny panties.”
“You wanna fuck me?” you question, eyes sparkling and hopeful.
“Yeah, I do,” Eren can’t help but to smile again, happy and high and drunk on you, too, “Will you let me?”
Your feverish nodding is all it takes for Eren’s mind to go hazy again; clouded with you, you, you. You pull him into a kiss, arching your body into his, and running your hands down the sides of his back. He moans at the feeling, punishing you by nipping at your lower lip and pressing your stomach back to the mattress with his palm.
Your eyes meet his as Eren lines himself up with your cunt, teasing your folds with the head; but it doesn’t take long before he finally pushes in, sheathing himself inside you completely without movement. He waits a minute, whether it’s to make you comfortable, or to gather his own bearings, you’re not sure; but when he’s ready, he flashes you a smile and waits for one in return, before he starts thrusting.
You know Eren’s not gentle; rough whether or not he intends to be by virtue of his size in comparison to you, but you seem to have forgotten just how capable he is of making you lose your senses. He has you gasping, grasping at him at him unintelligibly, feeling full with his cock inside of you.
Eren groans, borderline growls, when he feels you clench around him, when he sees you shaking beneath him. He could do this all; could watch you all day.
“So pretty, the prettiest. Prettiest girl, my favorite girl,” Eren praises, eyes raking up and down your thrashing body, “My favorite fucking girl.”
“Yeah? I’m your favorite, too?” Eren coos, reaching out to guide your arms over your head, the force of his body pinning your hands down; you can hardly gasp before he lacess your fingers together, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.
“Promised you, didn’t I? That I’d be good to you, be on my best behavior,” Eren reminds you, leaning forward.
He eyes your necklace—eyes glued to ring around it—bouncing with your body. He bends his head down to kiss it, bites at the skin near it; a possessive streak overcoming him as the diamonds shine against you. “I said I’d treat you good, always. Meant it.”
He stutters, when you squeeze him back; fingers tightening around his hold, your pussy clenching around his cock. Your whining is insistent, and mixes with Eren’s low moans and guttural noises. Eren doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you fast and deep, and it’s only a matter of time before you feel a knot twisting in your belly.
You attempt to move your arms, searching for a release of the feeling building up inside of you but Eren is strong; stronger than you, and he keeps you in your place. Keeps your arms pinned above you, keeps his palms pressed into yours, keeps his lips hovering above yours, just out of reach.
“Eren,” you call his name through shaky moans.
“Yeah? What, baby?”
And so he does, his lips needy and hungry over yours. Eren fucks you and kisses you through your orgasm, tasting your moans on his tongue in timing with him cumming inside of you. You don’t let up; kissing him lewdly while you both come down from your highs.
“So good,” Eren croons against your lips, down your jaw, into your skin, “So good for me.”
You both moan in chorus when he finally pulls out, Eren’s head laying on your collar, nose nuzzling into your neck. He lets your hands free, and immediately you wrap them around his back, holding him close as you both attempt to catch your breaths.
You don’t know how long you lay there like that, with Eren on top of you, and your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek while he sleeps soundly. Maybe an hour, maybe more, maybe less; but the euphoria of your sex doesn’t quiet seem to fade.
It might last all night, maybe even for the rest of your trip but you don’t mind. You think back to earlier in the evening, when you’d caught his gaze after your dance. The feeling isn’t all that different; warm, and fuzzy, and too much and not enough all at once. It feels good, it feels like Eren.
You hum softly to yourself, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on your chest, when you realize exactly what these two moments have in common: a rare event in which Eren is still in front of you, steady and stagnant, no running or chasing; and you don’t want to let him go.
Sometimes Eren thinks you act oblivious on purpose just to fuck with him, because there’s absolutely no way you—or any human with a functioning nervous system and social cues—can’t tell that he’s completely, stupidly, and embarrassingly in love with you.
Long gone are his days of trying to deny it or get over it. He realized that sophomore year of high school—almost eight years ago—that no matter where he went, what kind of drug he inhaled, or how hard he tried, you’d be permanently etched into his heart. That doesn’t make it any less exhausting, and, in fact, only makes it more astounding that you haven’t caught on yet. Honestly, Eren’s considered hiring a private psychiatrist just to make nothing’s wrong with you.
Amazingly, the remainder of your vacation continues just like the former half. The only exception being that now you’re in Paris. And that he’s shamelessly coerced you into letting him fuck your brains out on several occasions. But besides that, everything’s chill.
Just two best friends traveling through France together and stopping to fuck in any semi-private location they can find. Just two peas in a pod walking along the Champs Elysées at damn near midnight. Just two best buds with linked arms tasting (see: feeding each other) every macaron flavor they come across while violinists play stupidly romantic, classical music in the background.
He knows he should probably talk to you about it, but for some reason he can’t. Like telling you would make it all too real, and give it a meaning that could so easily be taken away from him; give you a reason to want to leave him. Right now, it’s just a fantasy, and he’s free to keep dreaming, believing that he’s special and worth enough for the affection you’ve shown him.
He doesn’t want to be one in a list of your boyfriends, or fiances, or husbands; he wants to be your only one, and if he can’t be, then he’d rather be stuck to your side as your best friend. At least that way, in someway, he could remain special to you; not a forgotten, ordinary ex of your past.
Though, a best friend who he’s sleeping with regularly and he’s in love with and will always be in love with is starting to sound a lot like a husband to him. At least, the kind of husband he would like to be to you.
You call his name, asking him if he wants to try another sweet. Eren rolls his eyes. What he wants is to fuck you, and marry you, and have you bless his stupid little existence with two runts for kids that look like him but act like you so his life savings don’t run out by the time they’re twelve. But sure, he’ll settle for having you feed him another macaron in the meantime.
“This one tastes just like the coconut one,” he mumbles, chewing his way through the pastry you’d stuffed into his mouth whole.
It’s the seventh bakery you’ve stopped at tonight, and even though Eren’s growing pretty sick of the sugary treats, he’ll walk with you to every damn bakery in Paris tonight if that’s what you want.
He blinks at the thought. He’s so lovesick it’s disgusting. And he wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it.
“That’s probably because it’s almond and coconut flavored,” you say, wiping the stickiness from your fingers onto a napkin.
“I didn’t taste any almonds.”
“I don’t even think you could spell almond, much less tell me what they taste like.”
Eren simply pouts in refute, leaving you giggling at his expression. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but you seem even prettier in Paris than in Nice. But, that’s probably his rose-colored glasses speaking.
“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”
He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”
He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.
“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.
“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.
“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.
“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”
Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.
“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”
You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.
“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”
Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.
“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”
“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”
Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.
“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”
Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”
“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”
“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”
Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.
“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.
“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.
He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”
Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.
“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.
He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.
The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.
And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.
You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.
“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”
You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.
Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.
He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.
“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”
But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.
Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.
“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.
Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.
“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.
Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.
“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”
Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.
“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”
“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”
“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.
“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”
“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”
The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.
It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.
Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.
“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”
“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.
He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.
Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.
His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”
And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.
He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.
Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.
The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.
“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”
“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.
His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.
“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.
He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”
Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.
“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”
Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”
“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”
“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”
“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”
“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”
“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”
“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”
Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.
“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”
Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.
“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”
“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”
She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”
And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.
“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”
It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.
“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”
“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”
“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”
Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”
“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”
“I thought it was pretty obvious.”
“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”
Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”
“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”
Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.
“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.
“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”
You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.
You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.
You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.
It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.
“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.
“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”
“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.
“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”
The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”
“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”
“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”
“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”
“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”
“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”
“And you took it, anyway?”
“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”
Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”
“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.
Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.
And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.
Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.
A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.
But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.
Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.
“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”
Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.
“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”
You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.
Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.
“Mitchell, I have to—”
You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.
“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”
You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.
He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.
“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.
It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.
Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”
“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”
Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.
“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”
“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”
“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”
You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.
“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”
“And if I asked you now?”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”
Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.
“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”
Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.
You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.
“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”
For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.
Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.
The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.
Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.
“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.
She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”
“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”
× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!
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it’s happening again. [eren x reader x jean]
title from this song: it’s happening again by agnes obel
‘and for a brief moment, we could stop the time; but with the stars and the moon, i woke up in the night.’
pairing: eren jaeger x f!reader x jean kirstein
rating: mature. +18
—cw: polyamorous relationship, somnophilia, consensual sleepy sex, breeding kink, voyeurism, slight mommy kink, male masturbation, fingering, praising.
notes: this is my little gift for 600 followers! reblog for exposure if you like!
it’s happening again.
“Eren— i think it’s happening again.” Jean mumbled sleepily, one of his eyes were trying to see what time it was from the clock at the Eren’s nightstand. His bare chest was blocking the view but he was able to read neon blue numbers when Eren shifted slightly. 04.23.
“Yeah, i am pretty aware of it.” He gave a shaky breath that made Jean someway amused even he woke up seconds ago. “She’s grinding on my lap for the last ten minutes— i woke up hard.”
“Mmh,” Jean purred, his eyes found Eren’s green orbs in the dark. “Poor you.”
Your bodies were tangled in the bed. You always laid between them, you all liked it this way the most. They both adored how your body seemed so small compared to their tall and lean bodies. You always felt safe and secure, especially when you were sleeping. Eren and Jean were like your knights to avoid those monsters under your bed or the nightmares waiting for them to stand back. You loved feeling one of their strong chest on against your back, the other one would sleep between your arms.
Particularly they both had a thing for your breasts. Jean would always purr softly to your skin when you made him lay on them, the feeling of his stubble on your skin was a mark to your mind.
Eren’s hand would be on one of your boobs, he just liked to hold them while he was asleep. First time you realized, you and Jean found it so adorable. He was like a baby while he was sleeping, there would be no trace of anger on his face. Even watching him were peaceful. But he would pout in his sleep when you remove your hand, Jean would tease him afterwards but Eren wouldn’t know he was the one who put Eren’s hand on your breast again to see that tiny smile on his face.
They loved you, you loved them. And those nights you slept like you were not three but one body, it was the heaven on earth.
It was one of these nights, your limbs were like the tangled rope of fate. You always had this weird feeling in your chest, you carried it in your whole life while trying to tie the ropes of your soul to the another. Your hands were shaky while doing that, you even thought cutting the sharp edges of your soul, your mind to fit into someone.
It amazed you how you fit between their bodies. All the curves and every inch of your skins were meant to be together.
You remember sitting on the armchair at the corner of your bedroom, just watching Eren and Jean’s naked bodies while they were laying on the bed. There would be no talk, not any sound.
You loved feeling their big hands on your back, on your thighs— caressing your hair or just holding you close so you could feel them both.
You did. You always did, just like this time.
One of your legs was bent upwards, it was resting on Jean’s left thigh. His warm hand was holding it possessively. The angle of your body let Eren got real close to you, your hips were joined since the beginning of the night. His hand was circled around your waist to keep you in your place.
Eren’s nose was buried into your hair to smell the fresh scent, just like you did the for the Jean’s body. Your face found its way to his crook of neck in your sleep, he was smelling like the soap you chose for him.
They both smelled home to you and you knew they felt the same since you were the one they kept coming to.
Eren groaned again, his voice was low to not wake you up. Your hips were drawing invisible circles on his lap like you were trying to make him crazy. “A- are you sure she’s still asleep?”
Jean inched away from you to see your sleeping face. When his light brown eyes found your nearly visible face in the dark he forgot what to do for a moment. “Ah, Eren—” Jean spoke softly, his voice was filled with pure adoration. “-look at her, look at our baby. She’s so beautiful.”
Eren murmured into the skin of your shoulder, he gave a featherly kiss to there. “I know.”
“She’s sleeping—” Jean started, but when he saw your lips moving slightly he stopped. His face got closer to yours again. “Shh— listen, she’s moaning your name.”
Like it was your defense, they both heard you again. There was a small frown on your face and your voice was audible now. “Hmph- Jean—”
“And yours.” Eren managed to say. Both men moaned when they heard you were begging them in your sleep, that one word came out from your parted lips again and again. Please. Please. Please.
You seeing them in your sleep was so sexy to them and it wasn't a rare thing around your busy times. You would either work or study till midnight, one of them would carry you to the bed. They were trying their best in those periods; Eren would make your coffee the exact way you liked or Jean would help you with anything while you were sitting on his lap. But that busy schedule sometimes made you go to bed needy for them, even you didn’t tell. However you body was screaming this fact to you in your dreams, you couldn’t help but your body was reacting to their bodies desperately.
There was something so provocative about you sweetly murmuring their names in your sleep. They never heard a third name, it was always them. Since they were the definition of perfect for you, you only saw them fucking you; holding your body tightly while you were bouncing on their cocks.
Your whole body was in the trance because of the dream, it preparing your tight hole to nothing. And Eren could feel how you were pulsating on his cock.
Maybe it was a good idea to sleep only with your panties and one of Jean’s t-shirts because with one touch of his fingers, he could feel how wet you were.
“Oh, our sweet girl-” Jean praised you with a gentle voice, his hand on your thigh was caressing the skin there now. He was returning back to your knee after feeling the curve of your ass. His eyes found Eren again, it was so hard to leave the sight of your parted lips. “—so so needy for us. Can you hear her pretty moans, Eren? Only for us.”
Eren nodded with a murmur. “Mh-hm— she’s all for us.” His dick was fully erect at that point, poking through his boxer to meet your heat between your legs. “i- i don’t want to make her stop but i won’t last long if she keeps—” A roll of your hips stole the breath from his lungs. “Mmh— doing this.”
Jean’s hand stalled on your ass. “You know she works hard, she needs sleep.” He tried to soothe Eren.
That little silence between them made your mumbles audible again. Eren’s chin was on your shoulder now, he looked at your sleeping face. You had the same frown on your face with your boyfriend Eren. “Can’t you see Jean, she needs us— c’mon.”
Jean’s hand that was resting on your ass traveled down to test the thing Eren said. His fingers dug into the fabric of your underwear and the tip of his fingers brushed your pussy so lightly. “Fuck,” He hissed.
His hands found your entrance so easily; just to touch experimentally, to see how much ready you were for them. Your hole sucked the tip of his middle finger in like it was nothing. “Fuck, ah— yes, need us so bad.” A shaky breath. “She is soaked, Eren.”
There was a pained expression on Eren’s face, his shallow breaths were getting lost between the strands of your hair. “i- is she? let’s see, hm?”
His left hand followed the same path Jean’s hand did seconds ago, their fingers met in your panties. Eren felt the wetness easily since Jean already spread it with gentle touches, using his fingertips. He mumbled into your hair. “Oh, angel— what are you dreaming of again?”
Eren pulled his hand back to give Jean more space, now it was on his boxer. He was palming his cock over his underwear while listening those lewd sounds coming from your cunt.
“Yes- just like that, Jean—” It sounded like he was murmuring to himself, he could see the look on Jean, his lips were busy to give mild kisses to your jaw. Eren always admired Jean for how he was able to be this gentle when it comes to you; like you were made of glass, like a slight pressure of his lips would make you wake.
“Mhh- yeah, stretch her for me.” He softly spoke to Jean. Eren could see how his arms were flexing with the every rhythmic move of his hand. Yet his movements were still graceful, Eren never felt your body shake under their touches.
Your leg on Jean’s bare thigh made him easy to access to the between of your legs. If you were awake, you could feel his semi-hard dick on your knee.
Your silent begs soon turned into small sounds of satisfaction. Now you were rocking your hips slightly. With each roll of your hips you were gaining whines from both of them. He kept encouraging Jean while his left hand was pumping his now completely free cock. “S- she loves it when we take her like this. All defenseless and needy for us— you remember first time she asked, hm?”
“—yes.” Jean said in one breath. He felt your velvety walls on the pads of his fingers. “You need to feel her, Eren— fuck, she’s clenching on my fingers.”
Once he removed his two fingers with your slick on them, Eren didn’t think twice before opening his mouth just enough to let Jean slip his fingers inside his mouth. He hummed, tasting the musky flavor of you from his fingers.
Eren pushed your panties aside as he watched how Jean made your face visible for both of them.
“It will wake her up—” Eren murmured between his ragged breaths, the tip of his cock was at your wet entrance.
“I know- i know.” Jean soothed him, he could see Eren was having a hard time to restrain himself. “Don’t worry. I got her.”
This was all he needed to hear before pushing the head inside. Just like they expected, you moaned loudly this time. Your lashes fluttered. “—ah!”
You felt a big hand cupping your cheek, your mind was still blurry when you heard Jean’s sweet voice. “Ssh, it’s okay baby— it’s okay, we’re here. Shh- it’s okay.”
You gained all of your senses back in seconds. First one was hearing; you heard Jean’s whispers and you could feel how he caressed your cheek to make you realize he was actually there. Eren had a grip on your inner thigh to keep you in place, it was the same for you. One of your hands was on the back of his Jean’s neck, you didn’t know since when. You felt dizzy, you felt like there was more than space and time in this bed.
Eren loved that noise you made when he pushed the head in, so he desperately tried to hear it again with thrusting his cock into you. His movements weren’t rushed, not even a single touch.
And you couldn't help but moaned again, you couldn't turn voices into words. The way he slowly stretched you felt so good. So you tried to verbalize it. “Mmh- so good—”
Your words cut off by Jean’s lips, the way your lips looked pursed because of your pillow was making him crazy since he woke up. It was a deep, passionate kiss that ended with Eren pushing his dick all the way in. This time your groan was nothing but a vibration inside Jean’s mouth. His cock twitched under his sweatpants. Instead of Eren he was wearing his sweatpants and nothing more.
You felt long fingers leaving your thigh and wrapping around your neck to pull you away from the kiss. Your back met with a strong chest. Eren kissed the skin behind your ear before mumbling. “—i want to hear you, too.”
Jean was ready to make Eren’s wish true, he lifted his t-shirt you wore till the fabric was on the top of your breasts. He gave an experimental lick to the one of your nipples. That was when you threw your head back and called their names.
“Fuck her good, Eren—” Jean’s mouth left your other nipple with a pop sound. “Our baby deserves the best.”
“Mh-hm” Eren purred. He was giving slow deep thrusts to you. Everytime he used a little force to make all of his cock fit into you, you felt Jean was getting rougher. From the way his right arm moved under the covers you could say he was touching himself.
“Jean— i want to touch you,” You murmured sleepily. The tip of his tongue didn’t stop teasing your nipple. When he made an eye contact with you, his warm mouth was still closed on your nipple. Oh, fuck.
It was nearly too much for you. While you were hearing Eren’s soft grunts right next to your ear and seeing that look on Jean’s eyes, once again you thought you were the luckiest person on this earth; having these two gorgeous men as your lovers.
“No no no—” Jean started. “Let us touch you, angel.”
Jean shifted upwards on the bed to see your face better, then with an one strong grip he angled your hips for Eren. Like he studied your body so many times, it worked so well. The tip of Eren’s cock brushed your sweet spot for the first time. Your back arched because of the pleasure but Jean pressed your back against Eren again. “Nah-ah. Don’t run from him.”
“Yeah—” Eren breathed. “You know— you can’t do it anyway, sweet girl.” Next time he talked, he punctated all of his words with a deep thrust into your cunt. “You. Are. Stuck. With us.”
You were. Ah, you were and the only thing you want was being stuck between his bodies, his arms forever.
You were so close to lose the control of your body, your legs were already shaking under their palms. Eren easily felt it and let his fingers snake around your neck for the last time. He kissed your jaw sloppily before whispering. “Look into his eyes.”
Jean was looking at your face already. “i— i wish you could see how pretty she looks when you fuck her, Eren.” He said while fucking his fist under the covers.
You both heard Eren’s shaky voice. “i am c- close.”
Before you could even open your mouth, Jean’s attention turned to Eren. “She’s on the pill. Cum inside of her, Eren. Fill her up, yeah—”
You felt his cock twitching inside of you, yet you weren’t sure if it was because he was close or Jean’s deep and husky voice. Just after seconds you heard Eren’s voice with the same tone of Jean, only a little shaky because of the pounding. “w- we wanna fuck a baby in you. it’s gonna be o- ours. you’ll be ours forever.”
“i already am, baby. please come- please please” You responded desperately. Your hands tried to pull Jean close to hold onto something. He let you to grab a fistful of his ash-brown hair but it seemed like it triggered something in him. “—Mmh, yes please breed her. We’ll both do it again and again till you can’t take it anymore.”
They moaned loudly this time. Jean continued, his voice was like a plea now. “Please fill her with your cum, Eren. Make her a mommy.”
It was the first time you heard Eren Jaeger whining in that night. His lips were touching to the shell of your ear when he moved his lips. “y-yes— we’ll make you our mommy.” He breathed. “Come w- with us, baby-”
You watched Jean’s mouth gaping open before he groaning. You could also feel Eren on every inch of your skin.
They never stopped holding you close to their bodies. All those scents, drop of sweats and breaths were mixed together. In those moments you would feel so full, so complete it would hurt you. Every single minute you spent with your lost pieces would hurt you.
You knew so well you would find them again if you came to the earth one more time. And you would be worried about little things before finding them like how would Eren sleep without having your breast under his palm or who would be on the every page of Jean’s sketchbook. However you knew it would happen again. You would find yourself between their warm bodies in the unsettling dark of the night. Maybe they would make it up a lullaby to only make you sleep, or they would take care of you like they just did.
You knew so well it would happen again.
And again. And again. And again. And again.
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smells like teen spirit.
SYNOPSIS ✰ welcome to the team little freshman!
WARNINGS ✰ dark content, non/dubcon, gangbang manipulation, coercion, drugging (aphrodisiac), cheerleader! fem! reader, football player! aot guys, corruption, cherry picking, blood, misogyny, recording without consent, college au, aot guys whoring the reader out, not proofread (have fun with this)
WC ✰ 4.3k
Let’s get this straight: the Paradis Titans were not a group of nice boys— far from it actually.
They were exceptional at football, yes. Well, more sports activities, some members doubled in other activities on the side like track, basketball or swimming when football season was over. Most of the team even sat at the top percent of their class with great grades in their respective majors.
But no matter how athletically talented they were, how many trophies they brought home, or how good their grades were, it still didn’t change the fact that the team was riddled with players, misogynists, and scumbags hidden behind popularity, handsome faces, and pretty smiles.
It wasn’t a secret that they had a nasty reputation amongst the women on campus, but it didn’t matter because they still got what they asked for in the end. They always did. Maybe it was some sort of weird dark magic, a spell that made women weak at the knees and so easy to manipulate with just a few smiles and empty promises.
Or maybe it was the group chat they had solely dedicated for blackmail. The chat consisted of only nudes, screenshots, and sex tapes of their various hookups that could potentially end up on Twitter or worse.
Eren, Jean, Armin, Reiner, Connie, and Porco were the worst of the bunch.
Then there was you, a sweet little thing— a bright-eyed freshman too innocent and naive for her own good. A sheltered home can do that to a young girl, being homeschooled for the majority of your life until your senior year in high school. You were too trusting in people who didn’t have your best interest at heart. Always so willing to put other people’s needs and wants before your own without a second thought.
It’s a blessing you haven’t been soiled and taken advantage of yet. Both for you and them. It makes it all the more fun, little one.
You ended up graduating high school at the top of your class, so it was no surprise to anyone when you get accepted into your school of choice— Paradis University.
Now, you were somewhat self-aware and knew that you never really had consistent friends growing up. Being homeschooled was hard. You wanted nothing more but to fit in— finding a group of people where you belonged. You’ve spent many nights clinging onto your pillow watching movies like Bring it On, Mean Girls, Clueless, Jawbreaker, and many others just fantasizing about how cool life would be if you were living in their world.
You made it your mission to join a club when you moved on campus— and you did. After some internal debating, you sucked it up and went to the auditions for the cheerleading team. The excitement that coursed through your body is something you’ll always remember when you saw that your name was the third pick on the tryouts sheet.
It was the first practice of the season when you got noticed by them. You were on the track with the rest of the cheer squad though everyone seemed to be broken off into sections, either practicing or gossiping. You were only slightly separated from the majority. You had AirPods in practicing a tricky routine you were having a little trouble with, in your own little world and unsuspecting of the jocks eyeing you on the field.
“Who’s the little lamb?” Jean nudges Connie’s arm while beckoning his head over to you.
“Dunno.” Connie starts. “She’s a cute bitch for sure.” He squirts some cold Gatorade into his mouth. Both men staring shamelessly at the way your spanx fit into the curve of your ass.
“Think she’s a virgin?” Jean asks, his eyes still locked onto your body but trailing upward to your cute flushed face. You seemed to be having trouble remembering something from the way your body hesitated to move to the next part of the routine.
“Fuck if I know,” Connie replied. “I’d still fuck her if she wasn’t.” He shrugged.
Eren came from behind the two men, his eyes locked on you as well like a predator stalking its prey. Truth is, he’s had his eye on you since move-in day— waiting patiently for the day he’d add you to his body count. It seems like it’d be sooner than he thought, how fun.
“We can always find out. But I have a feeling she is.” Eren says.
That’s when it began and your fate was set.
You never felt the lingering stares on your body when you stretched during practice? The whispers and chuckles followed by high fives and bro-shakes when you bent over or contorted your body into heel stretches and splits?
Well, you should have; because now you were their next victim and just in time for the annual cherry-picking. It sounds like an awful tradition done by a cult— and it's on some ‘the virgin’s blood is the only way to fulfill the prophecy’ type of shit.
It's a four-step process: choose a freshman, lull her into a false sense of security, and pop her cherry. Sometimes it wasn’t always as easy as it sounds. Finding a virgin in college was hard, but it didn’t stop them from searching for the one diamond in a sea of rhinestones. It made the end all the more rewarding when they brought home yet another championship trophy. The funny thing is, this ritual has never once failed them, and it sounds sick because it is. Some fucked up tradition started by the founders of the team years ago passed down from generation to generation.
They’re not the first and likely not the last.
After about a week, there had been exactly two more days before the kickoff game. It was finally time to put their plan in action and you couldn’t have made their job anymore easier.
God, it was truly pathetic how quickly you fell under the spell of the two handsome jocks. Eren Yeager, the all-star quarterback, and Jean Kirstein, the beloved wide receiver.
They caught you walking back to your car after a late practice. Eren offered to hold your duffle bag and Jean had his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you all walked back to your car. Both men towered over your mere stature in both height and muscular build.
Their charming smiles, kind gestures, and sweet words make your poor little tummy have the most intense case of butterflies. Could anyone blame you? It felt like a dream having not one, but two of the most popular guys on campus be nice to old little you. It was all so new and exciting. Sure, you heard stories from other girls but they were only rumors. You’ve seen the movies and you “knew” how out of control and outlandish rumors can get! You’re practically an expert by now. These two seemed like sweet guys, why would they do anything to hurt you? It was all just stories, right?
Ah, it was just from the way you were looking up at them— eyes twinkling with admiration and affection that they knew you wrapped around their finger. They were practicing trapping you in with their bodies as your back was pressed up against your car door. The only thing you could think about was how handsome they both were and how lucky you were for them to even be speaking to you. You were just a freshman, they were juniors. What’s so special about you?
“You’re really cute, you know?” Jean says with a smile, his arms are crossed over his chest making his muscles budge through his fitted crossfit shirt.
“Thank you so much.” You smiled, cheeks and ears rising in temperature at his words.
“Got a boyfriend?” Eren is the one to speak this time. He’s wearing a fitted shirt as well but the bottom of his was folded up slightly, exposing the lower sliver of his abs.
“Oh.. no. I never had one before..” Your face was on fire at your admittance— voice trailing off as you looked down at the asphalt in the parking lot. It took everything for Jean and Eren to suppress their wicked smirks when they exchanged a knowing glance between the two of them.
“That’s a shame babydoll.” Jean lifts your chin with his hand, your eyes locking onto his. “Why not? You’re pretty.” Jean doesn’t even give you time to answer before he speaks again.
“You don’t ever hang out with us. Don’t you want friends?” Jean tilts his head.
“I do-! I do want friends!” Your eyes plead. “I just, don’t have many yet..” You say, with a slight hint of sadness in your tone.
“We’re your friends,” Eren says. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how deep his voice is.
“Really?” Your eyes lit up earning a genuine smile from the two.
Fuck, you’re probably the cutest one they’ve had. Maybe they’d keep you around, it’d be a shame to let you go to waste. They were going to make you into their own little cheer whore. Lucky you.
“Of course. Listen,” Jean pulls out his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. “Why don’t you give us your number and we can hang out sometime soon.” He flashes you his pearly white smile.
“Okay, that sounds like fun.” You smile and take the phone from his hands, punching in your number.
“Yeah, real fun. Just us and some of the guys.” Eren says.
That’s how you ended up at Jean’s apartment with not only Eren but, Reiner, Connie, Armin, and Porco too. All of you standing in the kitchen around the marbled kitchen island, laughing and talking while music from Jean’s Alexa played.
It wasn’t a surprise to any of them that you weren’t a drinker but after some gentle peer pressure, you caved— as expected.
It was fun, but you didn’t notice how they kept filling your cup with more liquor ushering you to keep drinking, nor did you notice how you seemed to be the only one throwing back shots. Maybe you should have or else you wouldn’t have ended up in a game of truth or dare blackout drunk.
“Truth or dare, cutie.”
“I dare you to strip to your bra and panties.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s silly and fun.”
“O-okay.. I’ll do it..”
“Yeah! That’s our girl!”
Everything was all a blur and time seemed to drag on longer than it was supposed to. Minutes began to feel like an eternity. At some point, you began to cling onto what you thought was Eren or maybe it was Jean. You couldn’t really tell, you just felt so ...heavy, hot, and weak. Despite your lack of clothing, you felt like your body was on fire. This isn’t what being drunk felt like.
The voices around you began to sound distorted and far away as your stomach was turning into a knot. It was reaching the point of being unbearable until an intense, almost painful, throbbing began coursing through your most intimate part. The only way you knew how to get rid of this feeling was by humping your pillow, but you felt insatiable. You needed someone to, no— this is wrong.
“‘m feeling, weird.. wanna go home..” You whimper into a broad chest, hands gripping the person’s shirt like it was your lifeline. You couldn’t stand by yourself as your legs felt like jelly. Large and calloused hands begin to grope your ass through the thin material of your panties. All you can do is let them, barely having the strength to stand. You couldn’t fight off an athlete.
“She’s cute and smaller than I thought. I think she’ll have issues taking me.” You feel the vibrations emitting from the chest of the deep voice holding you.
“Reiner, that shouldn’t be an issue for you. We know you have a bit of a thing for size differences.” That’s Jean talking, you think.
“Turn her around, wanna see her tits.” And that was Porco’s voice. Things were starting to clear up but your body still felt weird.
You had no choice but to let Reiner turn your body, back now pressed against his chest. His arms are scooper under your own, big hands finding your bra line to pull the cups down— your breasts fell from their confinement with a pretty drop. Groans and curses are heard throughout the kitchen and your head falls in embarrassment seeing the way everyone’s eyes are devouring your body. The friendliness and flintiness were now replaced with something dark and sinister.
There’s suddenly a soft hand on your chin guiding your head up. You’re met with pretty blue eyes and an old-school cam recorder.
“What’s your name?” Armin asks, his eyes aren’t on you, but instead at the viewfinder.
“I’m- I’m...” You can’t think straight with everything going on, it’s all happening so fast and Reiner’s hands massaging your tits and tugging at your hardened buds don’t make it any easier for you.
“Hey, don’t make me ask again.” This time Armin’s eyes are on yours, he looks serious— intimidating. This wasn’t the same guy from 30 minutes ago. Hell, this wasn’t the same guy at all— the timidity, politeness, and soft demeanor were all gone.
“My name is ____..” You say, voice wavering as you tried to keep yourself from crying. The string of the tears welling up in your eyes was beginning to be too much.
You see Jean come from behind Armin, his hand finding the back of Armin’s neck as a form of brotherly greeting. He’s looking at the sight of you on the camera too.
“She looks pretty on camera,” Jean smiles.
“Oh,” Jean notices something and looks at you. “Gonna cry? Go ahead, Coach Zeke likes the crybabies.” He finishes with a light pat on your cheek.
“Look at her panties,” Connie coos with a smile. “She’s fucking soaked. The shit we gave her is worked.”
“Put her up on the counter.” Eren beckons his head to the island while looking at Reiner. He’s been off to the side watching the scene play in front of him quietly— the same disinterested look on his face but patiently waiting for the fun and games to be over with. For now, he decided to play along, why not have a little fun with his teammates?
Reiner does as he’s told and lifts your body with ease to place you on the kitchen island, the coolness from the marble top coming into contact with your feverish skin. You looked so pretty sprawled out in front of all six men like a beautiful dessert waiting to be devoured. Your chest was heaving, face flushed, and the lights in the kitchen reflecting off the slick that was coating the inside of your thighs. What a bad to wear lace.
Eren walked around the island to get to you, his fingers immediately hooking onto your panty line to pull them down in one tug. He tossed the garment over to Porco who caught it in one hand before putting them in his pocket.
“Spread her legs.” Eren orders again. “Armin, make sure you film this.”
Connie and Jean are on both sides of you, both have a leg spreading your thighs open as far as the possibility could. You feel tears prick at your eyes, eventually falling out the corners and absorbing into your hair.
Eren is at eye level with your core, pointer finger and thumb spread your cunt’s lips apart, strings of slick still connecting as he does. Armin is right behind Eren, the camera still in hand filming from over his beat friend’s shoulder. You feel so seen, exposed— so dirty. Everyone’s eyes are on your pussy like it’s a prize.
“Fuck, look at that..” Eren says softly, truly taken back by how pretty your cunt was. It looked like a flower, all glistening with your hymen on full display— pink and intact with the smallest of holes in the center, he could maybe fit a pinky through. Your pussy was visibly fluttering and clenching around nothing, it was a sight to see.
“The bitch needs a cock in her. Look at how her cunt’s begging for one.” Porco says as he’s palming himself through his jeans.
“Hm,” Eren muses with a smile. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
Eren takes his pinky and prods it at your entrance— yeah, it’ll fit without breaking anything. His pinky slips into your tiny hole earning an explicit moan from you, this was the first time anyone has ever put something inside of you. You’ve never fingered yourself or used toys, you’ve only ever gotten yourself off by humping things or rubbing your clit. The sensation feels weird at first, but you soon become accustomed to it when Eren begins to pump in and out of you. His fingers were long so he was able to hit deeper spots within you— pinky curling and uncurling inside of you. Jean takes his free hand to assist Eren, his pointer finger rubbing circular motions onto your sensitive clit. This continues for a mere couple of seconds before you get hit with your first orgasm of the night. Your walls clamp onto Eren’s pinky and a small jet of your release shoots from your core nearly hitting Eren in the face. All the boys gathered around to look at you in amazement and lust.
“Shit, I didn’t think she was a squirter,” Connie says, the budge in his pants becoming painful by the second. You can’t even close your legs because of the grip they still had on your thigh. You can only shake and whine when Eren and Jean continue to lazily play with you— not trying to coax you into another orgasm but instead doing it for the sake of knowing you’re hypersensitive and they want to see you squirm.
You’ve been having a mental battle within yourself this entire time. Logically, you knew what they were doing was wrong— it’s so fucked up. And yet, there was another side of you that wanted more. A dark and perverted side was begging— even praying that they would use you as their own little fuckdoll, stuffing all your virgin holes with their thick cocks until they came. It was so out of character for you that you weren’t even sure that if your thoughts were even yours.
“Neither did I, aren’t you full of surprises?” Eren asks you, his big green eyes meeting your teary doe ones.
“Let’s take her upstairs,” Jean says. “Tired of playing around.”
The next thing you know you were being scooped up and thrown over Reiner’s broad shoulder. The group followed Jean up the stairs and into a bedroom where you were tossed onto the bed. Your head propped up on the pillow while your hair was sprawled out underneath you. The boys were undressed, lined up around the perimeter of the bed with all of their cocks in hand with their eyes on you.
Eren was first, climbing up onto the bed with— his thick cock hanging heavily between his thighs.
“I’ll be nice because I think I like you,” Eren says with his intense green eyes boring onto yours as he hovered over your body. “I can’t say the same for the others.”
“‘m scared, Eren..” You whimpered feeling him rub his cock along your pussy.
“I know,” His breath is shaky. “Keep looking at me, hold onto me,” Eren says, his voice providing you with an odd sense of comfort. You can only think back to the day when he and Jean introduced themselves to you— when Eren said you guys were friends.
“Will you still be my friend after this?”
“Yeah, we’re all best friends after this.”
Eren watched in delight as your face contorted into pain and discomfort once he pushed the head of his cock past your entrance. He was met with a slight resistance about an inch in but pushed through it causing you to feel a dull ‘pop’ sensation in your core. You held onto him like your life depended on it— eyes shut tight and teeth sinking into your bottom lip nearly drawing blood while your fingernails dug into his flesh. You didn’t know what to call this feeling, it hurt but it felt so good.
Eren was completed bottomed out to the hilt and you’ve never felt as full as you did now.
“How does her pussy feel?” Eren hears from Connie. His voice sounds strained, probably from how tightly his hand was wrapped around his cock, fisting fervently at his leaking cock.
“‘s so fucking tight.. tightest cunt I’ve ever fucked in a while..” Eren grunts, looking down at where you both were connected— almost smiling when he sees the blood coating his shaft while he pumped his hips into yours. It was done. You’re no longer a virgin and now you had no use. Just another good girl turned into one of their whores. Well, maybe you did have one use.
Eren continues to fuck into you chasing after his high, he’s getting rougher and harder— pounding into you not caring if you cum or not. The others standing around the bed are stroking their cocks to the sight in front of them matching Eren’s pace. You’re letting little whines and mewls escaping your lips, putting together incoherent sentences while your tits bounce every time Eren’s hips slam into yours.
Your second orgasm hits you like a truck and without a warning, your juices gushing onto Eren’s lower half and promoting him into his high. He cums with a hard thrust and a low grunt emptying his balls into your tight hole.
Then it was Jean and you noticed he was more of the romantic and sensual type. His thrusts were slow and fulfilling as he interlocked his hands with yours— pinned over your head. He littered your neck in love bites, whispered sweet nothings into your ear, and actually give you proper mouth kisses. Jean was insistent that you both finished at the same time— and you did. Your high was a slow buildup much like your time with Jean, he came inside of you too.
Connie and Porco came as a team. Connie held your head in place while he abused your mouth by fucking into your poor throat relentlessly. Your fingernails leaving crescent shapes into his tan thick thighs as you tried focusing on not passing out from lack of oxygen. Porco was no better, taking you from behind with the harshest thrusts out of everyone so far. His hand connecting with your ass repeatedly leaving your skin raw and stinging. Porco’s dirty talk was enough to make you and Connie cum, making him follow shortly after you both.
Armin was next and by far the simplest of everyone yet the kinkiest. All he wanted was for you to suck his cock, but he wanted it done in a very specific way. Only kitten licks on the tip and wet kisses along his shaft— oh, and your eyes on him the entire time. When he came into your mouth, he told you not to swallow so you spit it into his mouth.
Reiner was last, and he was last for a reason. The size of his member put fear in your heart, he was at least three more inches longer in length and overall thicker in size compared to Eren’s— and he was the second largest.
“I can’t take that.. please- don’t..” You backed up onto the pillows but the blond’s large hands pulled you down by your thighs. He leans over and places a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear.
“Shh, shh, it’s only a little bigger than Eren’s. It’ll fit.” Reiner whispers before splitting you open on his cock, he quite literally used you like a ragdoll and came buckets when he shot his load inside of you.
It was so satisfying how your soft pleading for your dear friends to “stop” turned into moans and whimpers to “keep going” and “more” whole your virtually limp body was being contorted into positions humans weren’t intended to bend. Your small and weak frame being passed around and used by six tall, muscular and strong football players like you were just an object. In all honesty, that’s how they saw you. You weren’t a woman— you were a toy.
There was one point where you were completely filled. Your cunt, stuffed with Eren’s cock, ass filled with Jean’s, both hands stroking the cocks of Reiner and Porco, then there was Armin who was filming the entire thing— completely content with stroking his cock in his hand.
You don’t know how many loads they’ve fucked into your poor little cunt and ass or how many they made you swallow. You just know your body couldn’t take another orgasm or else you’d lose consciousness. All of their refractory periods were seemingly nonexistent, once they came it was almost amazing at how quick they could get it back up again.
You're not sure how much time has passed since they all decided to finish everything by jerking their cocks in a circle around you— all of them finishing by painting your face white. By the time they were exhausted, skin sticky and wet from all the cum, spit, and sweat.
“Look at the camera, sweetheart. Say hi.” You look up to see Jean with the same camera from earlier.
“H-hi-” Your voice cracks.
“Good girl. Now, who are you?” He asks, looking at the viewfinder.
“ ‘m your cheer whore.” You say.
“They grow up so fast~” Connie coos from somewhere in the background, pulling up his boxers.
“That’s right. Welcome to the team, little lamb.”
© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.
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dating levi ackerman — the truth and just the truth.
featuring canon levi ackerman.
content : extremely fluffy content ahead, continue at your own risks.
first kiss — memorable, to say the least. levi felt so nervous, overwhelmed by countless emotions that his lips literally crashed onto yours, not knowing what to do, where to put his hands, or how to behave. i think it’s safe to say it most likely looked like the first kiss of a child, and that what makes it so pure and innocent. you had to guide him though, carefully wrapping his arms around your own waist, head slowly tilting to the side to reciprocate. his ears were so red that it felt like all of his blood rushed to them, and his fingers were nervously tugging at your shirt, betraying his anxiety, but overall, it felt very nice and loving.
awkward physical touches — levi didn’t have the chance to grow surrounded by loving and caring family members, and spent a huge part of his life without any affection displays. but, for you, he would try, because he wants to make you happy. he would practice by himself in his office, hugging the back of his chair just like it was you, or kissing the palm of his own hand to see what kind of kisses seem to be best. after a few months he’d even make a move to hold hands, fingers clumsily bumping into yours, face flushed of embarrassment. and because you didn’t make fun of him for that but thanked him instead, leaving a loud peck on his cheek, he’d feel somehow confident, doing it ever so often.
introducing you to his closest friends — to him, it’s natural to introduce you to his relatives in a formal way. he just doesn’t want to randomly bump into them while spending some time with you, nor does he want to tell them one by one about his relationship status. so he’d ask them to meet him for tea time in his office, allowing them to meet you, and the other way around. levi would be awkward as hell though, not even knowing how to call you in front of them : is he supposed to tell you’re his ‘girlfriend’, his ‘fiancee’, his ‘significant other’, ‘the love of his life’ ? yeah, he’d get nervous over the smallest things, but it’s such a nice feeling to see how much he cares about you to the point he’d always think about his behavior.
first time — are you ready to get through a whole questioning ? you better. if there is one thing that levi learnt from you, it’s that ‘communication is the key to a healthy relationship’, and he’d try his best to be better at this. so when you guys have your first time together, which is, let’s be honest, probably his first time ever also, he’d keep asking you if you’re okay : ‘is that okay ?’, ‘does it hurt ?’, ‘can i do this ?’, ‘you’re sure you’re good ?’. he needs praises, to know he’s doing well so his self confidence could sky rocket, so don’t be lazy and give him the compliments he deserves !
proposal — if levi decided to get into a relationship with you, he’s more than willing to marry you. he’d spend months preparing his proposal, seeking for advices, reading books and trying to find the right timing. it makes him feel safe to know that everything is planned in advance, and he has plenty of time to do his little rehearsals as you remain perfectly clueless and oblivious. fuck it if he has to ruin himself to buy you a beautiful ring, this is a one in a lifetime thing and there’s no way he’d make it plain and boring. he’d propose to you one night after asking you to keep him company for a little walk and would drop on his knee when you two got on top of the hill, breathtaking view over the sleepy city. he’s not going to say much, but for the first time ever, levi would tell you the three words you were so eager to hear one day ‘i love you’.
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Sooo... This request thing. You're aweosme 👉👈
Ooh boy it's a long one (changed it a bit)
-Erens so cute when he purrs and when you mention his curiosity and twitching ears ears and gentle touch, so as not to hurt the reader.
-when he kinda is paying attention to, analysing the reader or protecting them its SO cute
-It would maybe end as like cuddles and things and just... Talking. To him and him grunting or just nodding or thinking replies.
-Maybe be at night.
-Maybe it would start with... Eren In human form.
-Maybe he figures out that you don't think his titan form is so ugly but still a little new and scary and that maybe you like it
- Bam if you can somehow NSFW that... Uhmm?
So he... Turns into a titan and then. Some NSFW or just. Maybe he like. Scares or teases the reader on purpose for a reaction?
-And then NSFW somehow if you wanna put that in. Sorry for the way I type I'm kinda doing it as it all appears in my head lol
-I like your cute, and desperate eren, but also attentive and caring. I haven't seen you write a very cheeky or playful titan eren so maybe that would be nice.
I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING THIS ONE. Here you monsterfuckers, take your TITAN SMUT.
WARNINGS: MONSTERFUCKING. Oral (f receiving), mention of voyeurism, overstimulation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, edging, characters are 18+.
If these themes make you uncomfortable or you rather avoid, please block the tag “AOT SMUT”
Also thank you to the amazing @galair for this beautiful art🥺 everyone go check her out
Eren stays deep within his thoughts as he hums to himself, staring up at the starry sky. His loose strands tickle the shell of his ear, itching to scratch away at it but refuses. He can’t recall the conversation before the silence. It’s always been on his mind, but he’s been inquisitive as to what you saw him as, even if he knew the answer.
Am I a monster to you? Or am I just like you?
You knew Eren was quite insecure with himself when it came to his titan powers; no matter how many times he asked you that, you always gave him the same answer.
You were never a monster; you’re just a broken human like me.
For some reason, that has never failed to put a smile on his face. Being able to categorize himself with humans made him feel complete, separate from the monster people used to call him when he discovered the powers.
But know that he’s aware (once again) of how you feel, does he scare you?
Maybe he could ask you--, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood at all. Now that he thinks of it, he can’t recollect a moment where you’ve seemed scared to be in his presence, unlike other comrades who look like they’ll leak themselves any moment.
Without even thinking, he blurts out the question. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes the words slipped past his lips.
“Am I scared of your titan form?” you ask, glancing over at him as you sit up, staring down at him from your position. “I mean, it is always somewhat overwhelming to see something so much bigger than me, and when I sit in your hands but no, besides that, I'm not.”
“Do you think it’s ugly?”
“I don’t,” you say with a smile, legs crisscrossed. “I think it’s unique. You know, just for you. I think it’s quite cute and--” you trail off, glancing over to the side. “--somewhat hot,” you cough in between words, hoping he missed that.
“Hot?” he asks, a hint of smugness evident in his tone.” You think it’s hot?” he leans up on his elbows, a smirk curled at his lips. “Why is that?”
“W-Well, I’m not going to tell you that! That’s too personal.”
“What if I turned right now?”
“Y-You can’t! Captain Levi and Hanji would come to chew you out if you did!”
“Hanji gave me the go-ahead to transform whenever I wanted to, just not to cause destruction,” he gets up with a grunt, backing up a few feet back. By the time he was in position before you could speak, lightning struck the earth, the ground crumbling from the shock.
You dug your fingers into the ground, lowering your head from the gusts of wind. In no time, it calmed down as you avert your gaze upward, emeralds stare down at you from high above, brown tresses swooshing in the air.
“You did,” you breathed out, releasing your grip on the dirt. Your hands are unsteady, still trying to compose yourself from the sudden change.
He’s not moving, standing as still as a statue before he drops to his knees, the birds sound asleep in the trees now awake and flying away from the commotion. Your heart feels as if it could burst from the confinements of your chest.
Your left eye peeks open, cowering within yourself. Your body freezes when you see how close he is. His body is lowered to the ground; knees pushed in like a Sphinx. His eyes glow in the darkness, a new feeling taking over your body.
His heavy breathing fans over your face, his head cocked to the side as if he was examining your small figure. He finds humor in your expression, nudging your body with his nose.
From the small force added, it caused your body to get pushed back. His ears twitch, the tips sticking upward. He moves forward, doing it once more.
“Eren, quit it,” you huff, sticking your arms out to keep him from doing it again-- which he’ll end up doing too. There’s no doubt that in that nape, he’s having the time of his life.
He wonders what else he can do like this. He thinks for a minute, noises emitting from his throat. He sticks one of his hands out, shakily raising a finger, and places his hands in between your legs.
He catches your gaze, his tongue peeking as he leans forward, barely pressing the tip against the bare skin of your neck. The new sensation causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, eyeing the pink flesh before gulping lowly.
Eren pulls away, looking at your skirt that happened to ride up your legs. His eyes seem to darken as his mouth closes, teeth grinding against each other.
“Eren?” you question him as he inches closer, his head lowering slightly to the ground. You’re about to call for him again, but his tongue makes an appearance also, pushing the material up more. Your eyes enlarge, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt-- to which looks like fear in his eyes.
A noise of somewhat sadness comes from him, his ears lowering.
“N-No, it’s okay, Eren,” you stutter, face heating up from his motions. If you were honest, you could feel a small wetness pool in between your legs.
Before you know it, the tip of his tongue is in between your legs, the muscle lapping over your clothed cunt. Your arms are shaky as you let out a little gasp that sounds so cute to his ears; he can’t help but circle it around your clit.
A predatory look is in his eyes, looking down like you were his meal. The muscle goes sound, poking at your slicked entrance. Panting, you glance down at the position and pull your panties aside, shivering from the chilly wind and hot breathing in between your legs.
His jaw slacked; he works wonders on your needy cunt. The texture and saliva are enough to make you sensitive on the spot. Your eyes roll back as you chant his name, his tongue licking stripes up and down your folds, squelching noises occurring from his rapid movement.
Your legs are shaking from the overwhelming sensation. God, it’s becoming too much, but you can’t stop him, nor if you wanted to. You felt as if you would fall to the depths of the earth but yet stayed in reality.
The tip flicks at your folds, an incoherent noise getting stuck in the back of your throat when he begins to move it side to side rather than up and down.
You’re so needy for him at this point. You want him to stuff your tight cunt with his cock, to feel him stretch you out as he fucks you to no end. Having him do this to you was on another level of ecstasy, but you would accept it if this came up again.
The pressure he puts on your fragile body is enough to send you backward, but the way your heels dig into the ground and his gentle touches prevent that from happening. The slick left in between your thighs trickle down to your ass; the feeling becomes uncomfortable but erotic.
“Fuck baby,” you whisper, head falling back, staring up at the sky with lidded eyes. “Fuu..p-please don’t stop,” you slur, thoughts clouding with nothing but immense pleasure.
God, what if someone caught you? The adrenaline running through your body wouldn’t even let you care about that. But the thought of someone hearing you moan out pathetically as Eren licks away at your cunt, have you moaning out.
You wouldn’t be surprised if someone overheard. Eren’s tongue was a gift that meant to be cherished, even if that meant having him do this every day for you to get used to the sticky yet warmth radiating from the muscle.
The inside of your legs trembles, your head spinning in circles, rubbing small lazy circles on your puffy clit, desperate to be touched by his tongue. Your hole was being circled, his tongue barely pressing before retracting; the little shit was teasing you.
One of his fingers gently places over your leg to keep you from moving so much. His finger alone is enough to make you feel weighed down.
Your lips are moving, but nothing is coming out; no noise, no words. You’re completely out of it. Your fingers are clenching and unclenching around nothing, barely holding onto whatever it was you were. If someone were to ask you what day it was, you wouldn’t be able to tell the time of day or where you were at.
“ ‘M gonna cum,” your voice comes out soft yet needy, shifting your hips side to side, bucking your hips to the best of your ability. “I wanna cum on your tongue.”
His eyes flicker, a stripe licked up between your folds before resting on your clit-- a place that desperately needs attention.
Your delicate body is on the brink of defeat; an orgasm after orgasm washes over your body, and he shows no signs of stopping. You’re practically gushing at this point, your juices running down his jaw. You’ve made many feeble attempts to push him away; a growl would emit from him when you tried to do so.
Sweat trickles down your face into your clothes, causing the front of your shirt to stick onto your skin—short breaths of air, hiccups erupting from your throat. Your eyes roll back as your body finally gives out, falling backward onto his hand that was keeping you upright.
As you fall, a purring sound reaches your ears as his tongue finally retracts from your mess cunt, his eyes glancing at your slick sticking to you. His finger rubs the inside of your thigh, gently wiping away the transparent substance. His ears flicker as he listens to your heavy breathing, trying your best to catch the air that was taken away from you.
He lovingly nuzzles his nose against your patella, his dark tresses tickling your supple skin. After being pushed through multiple orgasms, you weren’t even sure if you could walk or get up from this position.
But he finally got his answer as to why you thought he was hot.
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Summary: High sex was never a disappointing time with your pretty boy.
Universal fic, no names are mentioned so you can picture it as whoever you’d like ;)
warning: smut, 18+, high sex, drug use, creampie
word count: 1.2k
a/n: Happy 4/20 ;) enjoy xx I wrote this in twenty minutes, sorry if there’s any mistakes
He always looked so pretty when he was high. Bloodshot eyes that could barely stay open, a loose smile that never left his face. He'd get rosy cheeks sometimes making you so desperate to leave kisses all over them. There was never a time he didn't look like the most beautiful man in the world.
Anytime you smoked alone with him, he'd find himself naked somewhere in your home, balls deep inside of you and angelic moans leaving you both. Everything always felt so electric when those drugs filled your veins. He was a drug all on it's own, to have both at the same time? Nothing could ever beat it.
This time he was spread out on the chair in your living room. Head jutted back and so consumed in you he couldn't even think properly. He accidentally smoked too much this time - not enough for him to green out but certainly enough for him to be out of it more than ever. You adored how he couldn't control his sounds or his expressions. Every movement was so pure.
Your hips were slow against his, thighs on either side of his, and barely having enough energy yourself to lift yourself off his cock only to drop back down again. He didn't want fast anyways, he wanted these timeless moments to last eternity. He wanted this feeling you gave him to last the rest of his life.
He felt the burning heat of your lips on his exposed neck. The wetness of your tongue gliding across his adam's apple and your teeth scraping against his pulse point. Each feeling swept him so deep in pleasure he quickly became a whimpering mess for you. He wanted to watch you ride him, but his head was too damn heavy to pick up again.
"So pretty for me," You mumbled. Your hand threaded through his thick hair, helping him to lift his head so he could see you properly. He swore just the sight of you he could have cum right there. Sweat covered your body, baby hairs sticking to the base of your neck as you worked yourself closer to your second kind of high.
"Me?" He retorted. It was always you, you were the pretty one, never him. You nodded, confirming your words - you would say it a thousand times and your point would never come across as much as you wanted it to. He pouted his lips, hoping you'd get the hint he wanted another kiss from you.
Fuck his lips were always so soft, so needy against yours. He still tasted like the weed you smoked together, but the taste was nothing compared to the feeling. Your fingers tugged at his hair as his tongue slipped between your lips. Such lazy, sloppy movements but it made you feel incredible. He made you feel incredible, always.
Your walls tightened around him, caught up in the idea of his cock always being deep inside you like this. Always having this double-sided coin of pleasure to chase. He whimpered. Whimpered like a boy, eyes watering in the delightful pleasure of tightening around him for no other reason than your own thoughts.
He knew you damn well enough to know you were thinking about him.
"Such pretty sounds for me," your head fell back as you pulsated around him again, desperate to hear more noises. It was always the sounds of pleasure that could get you off, knowing the only reason he was like this was because of you. A shameless moan, one he couldn't be bothered to try and muffle, echoed through your home. "Yes, baby, wanna hear you."
The pad of your thumb pressed against his bottom lip, pulling it down into a pout. He muttered out a string of incoherent words, eyes fluttering shut once again. It was too much, every movement of yours was too much for how his body was reacting to this high. He felt like he could cum over and over again, just with your kiss.
"S'much," he mumbled. Your hips rolled against his, grinding down to push him even deeper inside you to get another moan from him. His hands dug into your thighs, trying to distract himself from the easy desire of release so soon. Hot hands went up your body until reaching your bare chest.
He pushed you closer, making it easier for his lips to encase your nipple. His hips bucked as you whined his name, adoring the way you called out for him. Warm saliva dripped from your nub as he moved to the next, this time swirling his tongue until your walls clamped around him. He wanted you to fall apart without having to do any of the work.
"Fuck!" Your nails dug into him when his teeth nipped at you. You'd lost track of how long you were at this. Hours, minutes, none of it mattered. The wetness between your thighs leaked down his, probably onto the chair you sat on as well. Your thighs burned from your movements but having his cock stretching you was godlike. "Please, baby, n-need you to fill me up."
"Yeah?" He didn't sound cocky, he was looking for your permission. It felt like he was holding himself back for days because he didn't want to disappoint you. His whole body tingled at the idea of finally being able to release, finally to let go of this aching pressure in his cock only you could cause.
"Yeah," You confirmed, nails digging into his shoulders again as you weakly tried to move faster against him. His head threatened to fall back again, whines passing his lips and silent pleas for more. "Want your cum, wanna see how good it feels dripping out of me. Please, love. Gonna cum, too."
You met his hazy eyes. "So beautiful," god he was, so fucking beautiful you couldn't get over it. He refused to leave your gaze, desperate for you to cum before he did. Your lips trembled at the overwhelming build of pleasure threatening to consume your whole body. "Need you- need you."
"I'm right here," he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. A continuous string of 'please' escaped him. God, he didn't even care about himself anymore, just wanting to watch as you fell into a chasm of euphoria. "Cum princess, wanna feel."
Pure pleasure mixed with your high. You couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't focus on anything besides the spasming of your pussy around his cock as you cursed his name. It was too much, but fuck did it leave you feeling like you were floating upon the clouds. Nothing would ever top that.
"(Y/N)," His voice sang through your home, eyes rolling back as his hot cum filled your sopping core. In a brief moment of strength, he grabbed your hips with a bruising grip he'd likely smoother with kisses the next morning. His shaky breath whined with desperation as you rolled against his sticky thighs. "Fuck, baby gotta stop. Too much."
"Don't want to be empty," you whimpered, terrified at feeling empty without him right now. His naked body against yours, shaky hands that only stabilized when they were on you, you couldn't pull away, not now.
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you promised forever.
SYNOPSIS 𖦹 when eren returned, you didn't spare him any glances. not even a word. you just simply acted as if he didn't exist. its been days since you've spoken to him, and you find him in your personal quarters.
WARNINGS 𖦹 spitting, face slapping, dacryphilia, blood mention, established relationship, toxic relationship, manipulation, accusations of cheating, hatefucking, attempted break up, timeskip, eren is a sadistic fuck, reader is a pathetic masochist, potential spoilers ahead!
PAIRING 𖦹 eren yeager/jaeger x female reader.
"What are you doing in here, Eren?"
He sat on the end of your bed with his elbows rested on his knees and his slender fingers interlocked lazily in front of his face. He had his hair pulled back into a messy low bun and wore a long hooded trench coat, black slacks, and lace-up boots.
All he did was stare at you. Those emerald green eyes were piercing through you like a needle going through soft flesh during a medical exam.
"Come in and close the door," Eren ordered softly. You furrowed your brows and felt the anger bubble inside your chest the longer you looked at him. He was the last person you were taking orders from right now.
"You have to leave. Everyone is looking for y-"
"I said close the fucking door, (Name)!" His sudden hostility made you flinch, but it wasn't anything you weren't used to. Over the years, you've grown accustomed to his hotheaded nature, but as he grew older, it has seemingly gotten worse. He tended to lash out at anyone who annoyed him, even if it was a mild offense. Still, though, he always kept it at bay when it came to you, Mikasa and Armin.
You sighed and did as you were told, stepping into the room fully and shutting and locking the door behind you. Eren stood up from his spot on the bed and walked his way over to you slowly. Your back was pressed hard against the door, a feeble attempt to put more space between the two of you. The closer he got, the smaller you felt. You felt like he was a predator stalking his prey.
Eren's hand slammed on the door, just missing your head as he leans his weight against it— trapping you with his body. His coat was unbuttoned a bit and exposed his toned chest.
"What do you want?" You asked with a shaky breath.
"Are you not happy to see me? I went through a lot of trouble to see you," Eren's voice was scarily calm as he took a piece of your hair, twirling it around his finger, watching it dance between his digits in mild fascination before looking into your eyes again. "After all, we have been together since we were 14." He dropped your hair from his fingers.
"Do you remember our first kiss?" He had a small smile on his lips while his hand trailed down past your cheek and to your jaw, cupping it gently. You "We had no clue what we were doing, but it felt so right..." He tilted his head slightly and leaned in towards your lips.
You turned your head in the other direction with furrowed brows, refusing his kiss. He jerked from you and gave you an indignant look.
"Have you been whoring around on me? Is that why you're acting like a bitch?” His harsh words shocked you. Instinctively, your hand connected to Eren's cheek with a hard slap. The impact was so hard that your hand left his cheek red and throbbing. He looked back at you with nothing but bottled rage and something unreadable in his eyes.
"You're a sick, selfish, asshole and I want nothing to do with you." Your words were fueled with venom and anger as you spoke. Eren held his jaw as he listened to you talk.
"Two months. You were gone for two fucking months. We were all worried sick about you. How could you be so reckless?" The anger in you was now manifesting in the tears pooling at your eye's waterline.
"We killed mothers, children, so many innocent people for you! You used us as pawns." The tears streamed down your warm cheeks freely.
"-And Sasha, oh my god, Eren- Christ- I can't even look at you. You make me sick." You shoved his chest in an attempt to push him away from you, but he retaliated by shoving you hard into the wooden door with his large calloused hand wrapped around your neck. He presses his body into yours and leans close to your ear.
"You're so pretty when you cry for me. You know that?" His voice was hot in your ear. The unmistakable feeling of his hard-on pressing against your body made your core throb almost instantly. You hated how quickly you folded for him. It was so pathetic. “I've been trying to keep it together this whole time, but I want to fuck you until you bleed.” His hand travels from your throat to your breasts, massaging them through the material of your top.
"There's something wrong with you, Eren.." You whimpered, feeling your resolve crumbling the more he fondled you.
"Fuck, you're making me so hard. Keep talking like that..." Eren's hand traveled further down, his breath still ticking the curve of your ear.
"Stop it. I'm breaking up with you—!" You yelped feeling him rub you through your pants. Your hips bucked against his hand involuntarily. He thought you were so cute, breaking up? Please. Catch him on another day maybe.
"It's been too long since I've had you. Let me ruin you, (Name)."
You shouldn't have been enjoying this. The way his thick cock was ramming relentlessly into your dripping cunt. Stray pieces of hair in his eyes falling from his ponytail as he looked into your eyes so intensely with every thrust. You felt more tears streaming from the corners of your eyes out of a mix of emotions that were too much for you to process at once.
Through all your emotions, though, you were still enraged by him, and the only words you could muster through your moans were:
"I fucking hate you- hate you so much-" You moan through gritted teeth. Your tits bounced every time Eren’s hips connected to yours, and your legs were wrapped around his waist, urging him to keep going.
"Shut the fuck up," His rough hand found your neck, and his other slapped you hard across the jaw. The sting felt delicious.
"You don't hate me," He chuckles darkly. "You hate yourself for loving me— devoting yourself to me so mindlessly like my followers." His words couldn't have been any more true. He owned you—mind, body, and soul.
Eren's hands cupped the back of your knees, spreading your legs as far as they could go. He was hitting deeper than ever before, and your moans of "hatred" turned into incoherent babbling about loving and missing him. It's been months since he's been inside you and his girth was always shocking. He was massive, both thick and long. The head of his cock kissing your cervix with everything single thrust. It hurt, but the pleasure of it was too good.
"You'd do anything I'd ask you too, isn't that right? You worship me like I'm your God?" He asked as his hips continuously snapped into your abused hole. The prominent thick vein he had running along the length of his shaft was rubbing perfectly against your G-spot. You weren't going to last long.
"Answer me, or I'll make it hurt worse," He felt your walls flutter around his cock at his words, and a smirk spread across his lips.
"You want me to hurt you, baby? Hm?" He leaned over and rested his forehead on yours, never breaking the eye contact he held with you. Your clammy hands were holding the sides of his pretty face so gently.
"Yes, god- hurt me, please! I want to make you happy!" You cried. Eren dropped one of your knees to cupped your cheek in his hand, momentarily slowing down his pace.
"Open your mouth." He said, and you did, letting your tongue stick out through your slightly squished cheeks. Eren leaned over and spat directly into your mouth, then a hard slap connected with your cheek once more, and again, and again. Your mind was gone. The only thing going through your head right now was how good he was fucking you.
"Fuck-" He rasped. "You're gonna cum. I can feel you clenching around me." His thrusts were becoming sporadic and uneven, his own orgasm catching up to him. Eren folds you into a mating press, pounding into at an intense speed. God, he had quite the load waiting to fill that tight little cunt up.
"Eren, I-I love you s-so much." You hiccuped through your tears of pleasure.
"I know. I love you too." His sweet words pushed you over the edge.
"-cumming- I'm cumming!" You wailed, feeling your orgasm wrack through your body. Eren continued to pound you through your orgasm until he bottomed out inside of you, halting all his movement with a stiff body. He drops his head.
"Oh, fuck.." He groans and paints the inside of your walls with his thick white ropes. It almost felt endless until he pulled out, letting your body go limp underneath him. Eren sat back on his knees, watching his cum leak out of you slowly and pool at your ass. The aftershocks of your orgasm making your stuffed hole clench and flutter around nothing.
It wasn't long before you and Eren were up and dressed again. There wasn't exactly enough time for aftercare and pillow talk right now. He stood between your legs as you sat on the end of your bed.
"Are you coming with me?" Eren’s hand ghosted under your chin as you looked up at him.
"Eren, I'm scared.." You say.
"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise." His hand held your cheek. You stayed silent and melted into his palm, holding his wrist in place softly.
"You love me, right?" He asked suddenly.
"Of course I do." You furrowed your brows.
"Then you'll come. You promised you'd be by my side forever, remember?” Eren says. It was true, you did make that promise, and you didn't intend to break it. Now now, not ever, regardless of any circumstances and consequences.
"Okay.." You nodded. "I'll-I'll come." You smiled softly at him, earning a gentle kiss on the forehead from his lips.
"We'll fight, together."
© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.
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aot men + dilfs;
definition; dad i’d like to fuck. simple as that. i have no other excuse than dilf brain rot.
featuring; eren, armin, jean, erwin, levi, zeke, reiner
warnings; f!bodied reader, cheating, age-gap, public sex, uses of babygirl/angel/princess and slut/whore in different sections, uses of daddy.
18+, minors dni. reblogs appreciated!
aot men + somnophilia | masterlist
eren starts putting his wedding band away. he’s always had a thing for work attire, and your form fitting skirts are not helping. and of course, as the new intern you’re so eager to please. always offering to grab him coffee, always admiring the pictures of the family on his desk.
you’d even met eren’s family at a work get together, so it’s truly sick that he still fantasizes about bending you over, knocking the family pictures of the desk whilst he fucks you. what’d he’d do if he found out you think the same things.
it all comes to a head at a work party, no extended invitations this time. eren has his hair uncharacteristically loose, normally it’s neat and tucked away. but you compliment it, and he compliments you, and you’re both lightly buzzed.
next thing you know, you’re sat on top of eren in his office chair. his feet are planted firmly on the floor as you work yourself on his cock. he can fuck up into you, hitting that special spot over and over. neither of you care about the wet spot that must be forming on his pants. but he does care about how fucking hot it is to hear the sound of lewd squelching and skin slapping skin between you.
eren would be grabbing your nipples through your shirt, before he gets sick of it and lifts it over your head. he’d pull down the cup of your bra and take a nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping until it’s raw. his hands would be helping you lift up and down on him, before one snakes in-between your bodies to play with your clit.
your babbling now, and it’s music to eren’s ears. “sir- fuck, da-”. he’d start moving his hips more quickly, punctuating each word with a slap to your ass “fuckin’ say it”. you look up to him, and he barely makes out “im gonna cum daddy” before you’re clenching around him. gummy walls milk him of his own orgasm, and you shudder against his chest as you come down from your high.
armin can’t help but check out his sons new girlfriend. coming back for summer break, he got to enjoy you in all your post-uni exam glory. you longue on his lawn, letting the breeze kick up your skirt as you lay on your stomach. he’d watch from the kitchen window, not realising water is spilling over in the sink.
armin would start getting jealous of his own fucking son. hearing you moan at night from your shared room. he notes that it’s a little too forced, not desperate enough. like you’re putting on a show.
eventually, with armin’s son out the way on emergency work trip, he’d have you all alone. you’d be swimming around the house bored, ending up talking to the man who gave your boyfriend those beautiful blue eyes. he’d play with you a little, testing just how pliable you are. he’d leave you bashful as he hints that he can hear you at night. all conversations are full of innuendo and suggestion.
then, armin would go in for the kill. fingers trailing your arm, watching as the hair rises and goose bumps break out. he’d put two fingers on your bottom lip, looking down at you. he can almost see your mind working out if this is something you should do. before he gives you the option to make the rational choice his lips are on yours.
“just a one time thing,” armin would echo you, the both of you making a promise as he pushes you into the couch. his fingers press into your thighs, his lips leaving trails of saliva down your neck.
as he fucks into you, armin would ask whose cock was better: your boyfriend or his daddy’s? he’d grab your jaw as you turn away, almost fully pulling himself out before slamming back inside you. he hears desperation in your voice now, “da-daddy please”. it breaks your heart to admit the truth.
armin would cum deep inside you. he’s seen the birth control packets in the bathroom. he’d watch as it trickles back out of you, and he pulls one more orgasm from you as he pushes it back inside with his fingers.
jean would let you babysit for his kids. he’d let you know how caring and sweet he was to them and their brand new nanny. he’s such a sweet talker, asking for an extra couple of hours from you each night.
letting the goodbye conversations last longer each time jean would notice how your doe eyes get more hopeful each time. he’d lean close to your face just to hear you take a sharp inhale. your breath would slowly fan over his neck as you realise he’s just opening the door for you.
jean probably let’s it go on too long. he’s divorced, not like anyone was breaking any rules. but playing with you makes the build up so much more exciting.
jean gets more confident. he lets long fingers play with your numerous skirts (that only get shorter each day). he tells you he likes your hair that way (and so you keep styling it that way). he picks up your initial necklace and murmurs a J would look nice.
by the time jean finally pulls you in for a kiss, your fucking desperate. quickly you can feel that ache between your thighs, your fingers stuffed inside you each night not enough. he smiles as he traces your clothed cunt, feeling how soaked you’ve gotten just from his kisses.
jean would treat you like the princess you are. he’d call you babygirl, angel, and what other praises he could. the way you get so shy after clearly wanting him for so long makes his dick painfully hard. he’d be fucking his fist as his tongue laps up all your juices. he’s so eager to hear you, notices what makes you moan the loudest.
the thing that makes jean almost cum right then and there is when you start with the begging. “p-p-please, please da- sir!”. he’d smile in-between your thighs, stilling his fingers. “try again.” he’d pick them back up when you echo “daddy” as your eyes roll back.
jean would do it until you were a babbling mess beneath him. and then again the next. and the next. he’d do it until the whole neighbour hood was talking about mr kirstein and his babysitter if he could.
erwin is your dads best friend. you and his son basically grew up together. he was there for your 18th, your 21st. he picked you up the first time you got drunk. he was there at your graduation. only now do you start to notice him, how his broad back muscles look in all those polos.
it had been a lot more than erwin expected, seeing you develop into such a strong young woman. he hates that his eyes flit to your ass when your on tip-toes for something. he hates that you’re comfortable enough to go braless around him, nipples poking through your shirt.
erwin hates how you’d always be too comfortable talking back to him. he hates how you’re always going to him for a ride home. he hates how you act so innocent. he hates how teasing you’ve become. and one day, he knows he’ll snap.
lips would crash against yours, erwin’s fingers keeping your jaw still for him, eating up all the words you were willing to throw his way. he’d replace those noises with soft gasps and moans.
erwin would flip up your skirt, and rip your tights, splitting them at the seam just for access. he’s like a starved man at your pussy. lapping and sucking at your folds. he makes sure to swirl the tip of his tongue around your clit, before pushing it inside you. he’d do the same with his fingers, curling them up to hit that sensitive spot. he’d do it just to see your eyes widen and eyebrows stitch together.
equally, erwin shows the same eagerness when you sit between his muscular thighs. your hands look tiny compared to his cock, flushed and ready after being stifled in his pants too long. he’d take his hands either side of your face, kissing your forehead sweetly before pushing you down. your mouth is so good around him, and he’s trying to so hard not to fuck up into you as he bobs your head up and down.
most of all, erwin hates how he has to face his son and your dad. they’re all smiles at you, and you act so fucking innocent despite his cum still dripping out of you. it’s infuriating.
levi saw you first at the beach. selling ice creams in a cute little uniform, he’d bought one for himself and his little brat. you’d been all charm and sweet smile, humouring his kid as well as himself.
and so each day of summer break, levi had gone to the ice cream stall. it didn’t take much time for him and the kid to try every flavour. and eventually he found out your name, your hobbies, that you had made up an entire secret menu of ice cream (much to your bosses annoyance). but now school is back in session, yet he works through all of those flavours too.
the flirting is rapid and quick fire between levi and you, each trying to outwit the other. he’ll roll his eyes and concede defeat, but only if you come to the beach with him one day. you’ll narrow your own eyes, but giveaway your delight in your smile.
levi would help you apply sunscreen (50spf for kids!) and as he moves from rubbing it into your arms to your back he swears he can hear little sighs. pressing in with his fingers more, he may as well be giving you a full on massage as your head rolls forward. he’d try his luck and let his fingers skim on your ribs, just beneath your tits. gasping, your head would shoot back up.
levi hopes that you don’t see how fucking hard you make him. at least for the first few dates. but you both only make it through to the third before you’re back at his house. you only stop kissing as he opens the door, and pays the babysitter. then his lips are straight back on you, your neck, the swell of your boobs.
levi would still make you gasp. slowly pushing himself inside you for the first time, your eyes widen and eyebrows raise as your stretched open on his cock. your fingernails dig deep into his back as he pulls himself out, but he’s quick to push deep inside you again.
smiling with pride, levi would take in your fucked out expression as he lies next to you in bed. fingers trace over your body, lightly playing with your nipples, then your hair, as you both recover.
zeke sees the hot new teacher at school, and already knows it’ll end in trouble. he’d use any excuse, one of the kids being naughty, bad grades, anything to talk to you. making sure he’s a few minutes late to pick up the kids, stating “it’s the divorce” as an excuse.
zeke would always make sure to lay on the charm, that lil smirk and grey eyes shining down at you. he could tell by the pink blush on your face it was all working exactly as intended.
for teachers night, zeke makes sure he reserves your last spot. he doesn’t even care on your updates the children, his grey orbs lingering on your skimpy business casual attire. he’d like to think he was being subtle, but your oh so confident “and finally, mr. jaeger, we should talk about the eye-fucking, yes?” has his jaw go slack.
zeke only sees it fit that he bends you over your desk. turns out you were more of a slut than he’d thought, and oh he would tell you so. “fuckin’ whore for my dick, huh?” you can only whine beneath him. it should be humiliating, the words he’s using, the fact he’s pulled one of your knees onto the desk to further open you up, how fucking easily he got you into this position.
grabbing both hips, zeke would make to use you like a little cock sleeve, pulling and pushing you along his length. your gripping onto the wood beneath you as if it will help keep you still. it almost makes him laugh as you both cum, your pussy spasming pushing him over the edge.
zeke would make sure you were a mewling mess beneath him. you wouldn’t be able to face your co-workers without them knowing. his fist balled in your hair. he may have popped a button off in an effort to grope your tits. maybe he’d even take you out for dinner as apology.
reiner needs a break. from the stress of work. the stress of his wife. the stress of kids. he goes to the gym every day at the exact same time. the routine is the same, day in day out. go home from work, help with the kids’ dinner, eat his own whilst watching tv, clear the dishes, gym. it’s the only part of the day he feels like his head is clear.
the gym is quieter at night, and that leaves it easy for reiner to notice you. you seem similar, just in there to work yourself into some semblance of relief. he doesn’t want to be a gym creep, he wants to leave you alone. but when he overhears you humming his favourite tune in-between sets he has to say something.
mutual hobbies start forming, and before he knows it reiner has got himself a gym partner. you work out together, talk about your families and stresses. you both know it’s slightly twisted, but for some reason it’s easier to be open with a stranger.
reiner didn’t mean for it to go this far. you were just gym buds. that was it. but now the working out is happening in the locker room, where he’s got you pressed against the wall. holding you under your knees makes his biceps swell. he grits his teeth as your nails dig in to them, trying desperately to keep your moans to a minimum.
reiner’s balls are slapping against you again and again, his dick working you open so easily. you’d both been so high strung today, the banter between you becoming more and more teasing. then all the build up had snapped. now you were using one another to work out emotions. his dick was huge compared to what you knew, and with the rush to get him inside you, you knew you were going to be sore tomorrow.
but that’s a problem for future you. all that matters right now is reiner dropping you to your knees. fisting the head of his cock until he shoots white ropes into your wet, panting mouth.
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