Being A Girl Is: Wanting To Go To Bed Early But Deciding To Just Get On Tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 For A Little

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

♍️😇

virgo season

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 | eren jaeger

warnings . . . fem reader , black coded reader ! , best friends -> lovers ( ? ) / best friends with benefits . . i dunno , lotsa flirting , fingering , oral sex ( f -> m ) , both reader + eren are tipsy off wine , squirting , creampie , unprotected sex , use of daddy ( only twice ) , pet name usage ( ex. pretty, good girl, pretty girl ) , slight dubcon ( reader doesn’t wna make a mess , eren kinda forces you to ) , sex flashback mentioned , mention of reader havin tummy rolls when she’s folded up , don’t care how tall you are eren’s taller than you , characters are aged up to their early twenties ! mdni !

word count . . . approx. 6.1k

i’m outside.

eren lets his phone drop back inside of the cup holder on his armrest after the text shoots through with a small ping!. “i’m not a succulent or a sucker, baby girl. these roots made me, i bring my flowers to the world.” his head nods slowly to the steady, rise and fall tempo of the beat echoing through his bmw m4 coupe’s speakers and he lets his hands fall from gripping the lower portion of his steering wheel to drop limply on his lap when realizing two, three, four minutes have passed and you still haven’t exited your building yet.

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” he murmurs underneath his breath, preparing to grab his phone to instead call you this time, only to watch the metal gate of your apartment complex swing open as you come walking out the second he clicks on your contact name.

in all sincerity, eren considers himself to be a simple guy. he sees something he likes, he appreciates it. something he dislikes, he’ll say it.

when he sees you start to walk to his car, dressed in a thin strapped, hot pink, curve hugging sundress that reached your ankles with a high slit to show off those fuzzy slides he loves when you wear with each step you take, eren habitually spreads his legs just a little bit wider. he does this every time he sees you and he doesn’t really know why — or, to plainly speak and to be completely honest, he doesn’t know why his dick goes rock hard after every single time he steals a simple glance of you.

“hey,” you breathe out and give a pretty smile when the passenger door’s open and you’re letting your hefty, marc jacobs tote bag drop onto his lap. eren usually makes fun of you for having a bag so big and is quick to make a snide comment about the accessory each time he sees you wearing it, however today, his complete and total focus is just on you, you, you.

he hums, letting his eyes openly cart themselves down the length of your frame. “you look good.”

when you’re buckled in and the door’s shut, he gets a nice nose full of strawberry poundcake. his dick grows harder.

you playfully roll your eyes and snatch your bag from his lap to plop it onto yours then adjust the strap of your dress to pull the front of it up higher to keep your tits from spilling over the scoop neck. “i know.”

eren feels the corner of his lips lift, as bad as he didn’t want to smile, and he waits until you flip the sun visor back up after gently combing up your falsies with the side of your finger in the mirror, for him to reach out his arm and grab you by the throat with a grip firm enough to gather your attention lock, stock, and barrel on him. he doesn’t miss the way you burst into giggles as you try to lean back while clutching at his arm, only he brings you closer until you both meet halfway with your faces over the armrest.

he mumbles quietly, “say thank you.”

you giggle harder and eren hates that having your face this close to his makes his heart feel like it’s galloping within the bounds of his rib cage. “fuck off,” you whisper back in reply with a cute smirk playing on your glossed lips. fucking minx. eren inhales a breath through his nose, then blows it out with a small chuckle before letting you go and turning his attention back to his front so that he can put his car in reverse and back out of the driveway.

“no, but i wanna say thank you for driving me around today.”

eren doesn’t miss how you reach for the bottle of water he has in his cup holder, followed by his phone. you type his passcode in as if the device were yours then riffle through the folders of his playlists to click on the one titled with your name you had made while bored one day and seated in his passenger seat, just like now. just who the fuck do you think you are?

“mechanic says my car won’t be done until tomorrow evening, but i really needed to go grocery shopping. my fridge is like, basically empty.”

summer walker’s toxic intro fades into the car through the speakers and eren bites a chunk of the inside of his cheek between his teeth. “you’re a fuckin’ pain in my ass, you know that?”

you note that he’s trying to hold in a smile because the dimple in his right cheek craters into the skin as his jaw constricts. “you adore me,” you grab him by the face so that his chin rests inside the downwards curve of your palm and your fingers pinch into his cheeks to make his lips pucker. “mm, c’mon. say it. say you love me, eren.”

his cheeks bulge as a handsome smile finally starts to spread across his lips. grabbing your wrist to snatch your hand from his face, eren then brings it up to his mouth to bite your fingers hard enough to make you squeak and jerk back. “fuck you.”

eren likes you. he really does, and his feelings for you always seems to hit amid the oddest of times — when you’re stuffing your mouth full of fried shrimp until your cheeks bulge or when you’re pouting and mumbling about how your favorite bronzer fell and cracked into tiny pieces so you’re going to have to order a new one. you have his heart right in the palm of your little fucking hand, nails are practically pierced into the meat of it and one wrong move, one wrong word can have eren either ripping it out or it bursting and deflating.

“hm. smell this.” standing in your favorite grocery store's produce section, you’re holding a plump, kesar mango up underneath eren’s nose so that he can get a good whiff of its scent. your eyebrows pinch in close when his facial expression doesn’t change and they jump a bit when you ask, “smells good, no?”

he’s blinking at you slowly, taking in your pretty face, “smells like a mango.”

your eyes roll. “you’re literally no help.”

eren hums as he watches you drop the mango inside of a little, plastic produce bag, followed by around three more after squeezing and sniffing them. “want a fresh pineapple, too,” you mumble before squeezing past him with the cart. eren can’t help but find this all a little … comforting. grocery shopping with you, running errands with you. he can see himself doing this with you again . . and again and again, if you’ll let him. “lamb chops or chicken drumsticks?”

in the fresh meat department, you’re pointing at the glass in which holds tubs of raw, unrefined slabs of it. your acrylic nail makes small clicking sounds as you tap at it then bend to get a better look at the lamb chops and you try not to stiffen up when you feel eren do the same, only he was directly behind you, with his crotch pressed right up against your ass. brown flyaways fall into your vision once his chin plops down onto the crown of your head. you hear him suck his teeth in consideration, “. . fuck. get the chicken,” he soon whispers. “see. look. ‘s not a lotta fat on ‘em . . and they cook faster.”

the rationale behind his decision makes sense and you’re fully prepared to go through with it, only, you don’t think you want to move . . or at least, not right now. because eren smells good, like woodsy body wash and exactly like bleu de chanel — the cologne you got him for his birthday earlier this year. and he feels good.

eren’s big, you noticed that a while ago. stands over an entire foot and a half taller than you and his shoulders are broad — he easily cloaks himself over your entire frame and you’re sure if someone were to stand behind you both, they would hardly be able to even notice you, if not for your feet between his. “mm, mkay,” you’re soon murmuring, matching the low tone of his voice before you’re forcing yourself to stand up straight which makes him do the same.

you had a hunch and expected him to take a step back, however he keeps himself there — chest glued to your back and he shoves his fists inside the pockets of the grey, sweat shorts he wore, as if cementing himself there and you try not to smile too hard when instructing the butcher which meats to pick, bundle up, and weigh on the scale.

“ ‘kay! next on the list is the furniture store!” you’re squealing and kicking off on the cart with one leg and your hands gripping the handlebar to catch up with eren’s long strides as you both walk out of the market back to his car. “you excited?”

he gives you a side eye when you catch up to him then pulls his key from pocket to unlock his car with the keyless entry. the trunk pops open as the locks unfasten with a quick chirp! and honk. “do you got gas money?”

his question makes you burst into giggles as you tilt your head back and place both your feet on the lower railing of the front caster so that he can steer the cart to his car by the basket. “mm, you charging me now, mr. jaeger?”

he doesn’t answer you. not until you’re both loading his trunk up with the bags and you’re bending yourself a little lower to push a case of water towards the back to make more room. merely then, is when you feel him do it again — his crotch presses against your ass and you bolt up on impulse. “please,” you hear him chuckle before he gives a tight squeeze to your hip. “ ‘m playing. you know i’d never.”

he lets his trunk fall with a strong slam when he’s sure your fingers aren’t in the way then walks around the car to the passenger side to open the door with a charming smile on his face. “c’mon. get your lil ass in.”

“i’m sick of you, you know?”

you tell him this while he’s speeding down the highway. your window’s all the way down and your hair’s fluttering on the thick streams of air pouring in. you don’t look at him when you say it, no, your eyes are closed and your chin’s tilted up towards the sun as if you were bathing in the rays it beams down on you.

eren licks his lips and glances at you for a long moment, simply admiring you. “what do you mean?”

you’re not smiling. he knows you’re serious.

you shrug, “i know what you’re trying to do.”

‘ i know ‘ … eren wants to laugh but he settles with a small huff while smiling, “mhm, and what’s that?”

you don’t know shit. you don’t know how truly deep his feelings lie for you but he’ll let you think that you do . . for your own peace of mind.

“you’re trying to fuck me.” his eyes bulge. “again.”

“oh fuck!” he can’t help but burst into laughter as he switches lanes. your words were so abrupt . . so straightforward, however he doesn’t know why he’s shocked. you’ve proven time and time again that you hardly ever hold your tongue for anyone nor anything. “shit, what makes you think that?”

your head turns towards him slowly and when he steals another glimpse at you, he sees that you’re looking up at him through your lashes and your lips are slightly pursed. it’s a facial expression that says a lot, specifically, ‘are you fucking serious?’ “fuck, alright,” why should he lie? he shrugs and keeps his eyes forward. “i wouldn’t mind if it happened again, but … i don’t want you to think that’s the only reason why i’m friends with you or why i’m doing this for you, alright? i don’t expect nothing in return, i don’t want you to pay me back. not in money, sex, favors, nothing … you hear me? i like hanging out with you and shit, but,” he chuckles a little. “i can’t help it. you’re fucking pretty and when i see that i have an opening . . to hug on you, grip on you, kiss you?” he shrugs and hums. “i’m going to take it — with your like . . your fuckin’ consent, of course. do i make you uncomfortable? with the shit that i do?”

when he glances at you, he notices a change in your expression. you’re no longer staring at him as if trying to read through the bullshit of his aberrant ramblings, your eyes are a bit glossed over and your lips are parted … you’re staring at him as if you just realized something.

“no,” you soon whisper. your head turns back forward and you go back to basking in the sun at his side. “no. i like it.”

and that’s that. your fingers reach out for the knob of the volume regulator to his radio to increase the sound of frank ocean’s voice belting out his bridge by the number.

you don’t want to think too hard about just how much you like hanging out with eren too … or, how much you really do enjoy feeling him hug and kiss on you. you two were just friends, will always be just friends. and friends drive each other to grocery stores, the mall, and their parents’ house to pick something up. friends invite each other up to their apartment to relax after running those said errands, and friends cook each other dinner.

you don’t know if platonic friendships end in you both sharing a bottle of red wine and . . cuddling ( ? ) on your sofa, but you try not to think too much about that.

“fuck, is this what being wine drunk feels like?” eren’s chuckling and rubbing the pads of his thumbs into the arch of your foot that lays on his lap. “i feel …” his head falls back against the back of the couch. his hair had long foregone its usual elastic — now hangs down his shoulders in a mess of curled and wavy strands that shine with a healthy gloss under your warm, though dim, lighting. “i feel sexy.”

your laughter bubbles up from the base of your tummy and erupts from your mouth. “you feel sexy?”

“mhm,” he’s nodding and his thumbs are sliding up to the outer ball of your foot. he presses in . . . hard, holding them there for a second, before proceeding in slow, steady circles. a burst of pain shoots up your calf, just a quick surge that makes you wince and straighten your posture, however you find that the longer he rubs, the better it feels. you melt.

“. . oh my god,” the moan slips out before you can reel it back in. “this feels amazing. why does this feel so nice?”

inner ball, down the arch to your heel, then he’s back up at the outer ball again. you whimper and curl your pretty, pedicured toes around his fingers once he starts to roll the knuckles of them carefully between the paddings of his thumb and index finger.

eren’s watching you — he’s fixed on you. his eyes are immersed in the facial expressions your face screws in. the little furrow your brows dig into when his thumb pressed into your arch, how your mouth drops when he uses his entire palm to knead your heel. he tries something. “feels good?”

your answer comes slow . . it’s like you’re in another dimension, but you soon nod. “mhm,” your voice is pitched an octave higher. “fuck, feels good ‘ren.”

eren is reminded of the last time he’s seen your face morph into those pretty expressions . . of the last time he heard those cute squeaks and tiny whimpers. six months ago, in his condo — silk, black sheets, red solo cups, hiccupy gasps, shuddery groans, white french tips lined on your toes that hung over his tatted shoulders, city skyline, pillows falling over the edge of his bed, confetti strewn all over the floors — it hits him like a montage. everything he remembers from that new years eve . . or should he say, early morning.

his fingers slide up from your foot to your calf. you’re soft . . unexplainably so.

“what are you . .” your voice is gentle and you’re pouting at him, just the slightest bit. “ ‘rennie, what are you doing?”

he’s leaning in slowly — testing you to see if you’d pull away, however when you don’t, eren lets himself indulge. he doesn’t kiss you full on, he lets his lips skim against yours, lets himself inhale your shaky breaths that taste like juniper and blackberries, and lets himself pull away just an inch when you go to lean in deeper.

soon, it’s only obvious his little game seems to piss you off because you grow antsy. lips glossed and pouted and with your pretty, round eyes flooded over with a drunken sheen he’s sure matches his, you whine out a tiny, “fuck, c’mon eren.”

he slowly begins to smile. “fuckin’ impatient,” he whispers.

but he gives you what you want — grabs you by the back of your neck to pull you in and smashes his lips into yours hard as if he’s angry with you. it makes you whimper. you feel him move. no longer are your feet thrown over his lap, but he’s squeezing himself underneath you, between you and the sofa cushions, so that you’re soon seated sideways atop his thighs. you love how small you feel in his arms, especially on top of him and you can’t help but mewl when his warm fingers start to climb up the slit of your dress to grab you by the waist and squeeze tight.

you find that eren kisses the way that he talks . . a bit slow, a little stringed together, sometimes messily. his tongue twirls against yours when you grant him opening deeper inside of your mouth and you moan when you feel his lips wrap around your own to suckle upon the slick muscle before letting go. it’s only right that you do the same, and when it happens, he lets his palm fall onto your ass with a thick smack!

“gonna let me fuck you tonight?” he whispers breathlessly, watching you fold your lips into your mouth and squeeze your eyes tight. “hm? gotta tell me something, baby.”

you want to weigh your pros and cons but you think that all of your common sense flew out of your brain through your ears the minute his hand touched your calf. “mhm.”

eren starts to thumb with the soft cotton strap of the thong you wore seated on your hip line and contemplates taking you to your bedroom — however that’s an entire walk upstairs and down a hall and he’s far too keen on you for that. he’s fully prepared to flip you both over to take you right here on the couch, but you’re mumbling for him to wait.

you don’t really say it, only you slide down off of his body until your knees hit the soft wool rug that covers your floor underneath the coffee table. “oh,” eren’s rendered speechless when you plop the side of your face on his thigh and fix him with the most dearest expression on your beautiful face. you don’t have to say it because he knows.

“fuck — want me to fuck your mouth?” he whispers, thumbs already hooking within the hemming of his sweat shorts to slide them down with his briefs. “huh? ‘s that it?”

you’ve wanted him to since that night. exhilaration coupled with two too many shots of tequila — both of you were too tipsy and hungry for one another that night to even think about anything close to foreplay, aside from eren spitting sloppily on your pussy and rubbing it into your little clit with his fingers. you know that he’s thick, though . . and long — know that he’d make the corner of your lips burn and chafe sore from the memory of the mere stretch of him pushing himself inside of your greedy cunt.

still, “yeah,” you whisper quietly, shyly with your eyes turning downcast and your butt plopping down on the heels of your feet. “mhm.”

his cock is pretty … but, it looks mean. two veins branch out in a strangled hook along the side, sending thick, hot rushing blood up to his tip to flush a deep maroon across the crown of it. soft, fat, swollen balls sit below, covered in just a slight, fine dusting of hair to match his happy trail and when you press a tiny kiss right against his frenulum, his entire shaft gives a jerk, sending it bumping right up against your nose as if needy for another one.

you can’t help but giggle and eren snorts a small chuckle while leaning his head back lower against the couch’s back pillow. “c’mon,” he mumbles, gazing at you beneath his lashes. his stare is dark . . brooding. “it misses you.”

“shut up,” you murmur in reply, unable to help how your face heats up because at the thumping of your clit and how you’ve been discreetly trying to rub it against the heel of your foot — you realize that your hollow, little cunny misses him too.

a slurred, long moan creeps up eren’s throat and glides out of his mouth the second you go to swallow him in one go. yet, due to his size, only around three fourths of him is able to fit — you gag on him almost immediately and eren’s eyes roll into the back of his head at the tight spasm of your little throat around his sensitive tip. “ooh, shit —“

drool creeps out the corner of your lips and you go to pull off, take a breath, and let a dollop of your spit drip down his shaft.

“one more time,” he breathes and cups the back of your head to add some pressure for when his hips slowly rise to push his hardened length back inside of your mouth. “jus’ one more — mmph, god damnit.”

you have him right where you want him. your head starts to bob slowly and the tight fist you have wrapped around his cock follows your mouth in steady, circular motions.

god, eren can barely even think, let alone move. his mouth is evidently, everlastingly popped agape with his initial shock of how fucking good you’re making him feel. he hopes you don’t pout too long at him for when he starts to rise and drop his hips to begin smoothly thrusting his dick in and out of your mouth.

you gag and you cough and you splutter, but eren makes sure to keep you where he wants you, uttering, “jus’ like that. mhm, look at me, look up at me, pretty girl — fuck, there you go.” feels too good, he can’t help it.

warm tears gloss your eyes prior to the little pearls beginning to drip off of your lash line and foamy bubbles of saliva bead at the foundation of eren’s cock before the liquid slides down and laminates his balls. it’s so messy and eren fucking loves it. he lets you pop off again to catch a breath and bathes in the pleasure of how quick you start to jerk him with a tight grip and flicked upstroke while your other hand massages his sac.

saliva shines over your chin and mixes in with the lipgloss on your lips — eren’s toes curl when he sees you lick it off, prior to you pinning him still with a doe eyed stare as your head dips so that you can lay the pad of your soft tongue flat against the base of his underside and slowly drag it upwards with a smile beginning to carefully stretch the corners of your lips at his transfixed expression.

eren finds that after that, everything goes a little bit blurry . . a little hazy . . — his next actions kinda … unclear.

because he doesn’t know when nor how it happened, but he finds himself on top of you with your back flat against the rug and his fingers thrusting up inside of your sweet, little pussy. and god, the faces you make . . the sounds you bless him with, eren can’t help but groan and grind his cock against your squirming thigh, needing to bury his face into the angled crook of your neck for his own sanity.

“shit,” you hiccup and tangle your fingers within the soft, brindled waves of his hair. “f-fuck, missed you. ‘ve missed you, ‘ren.”

you both see one another at least twice a week — whether that be alone or with your entire friend group for weekly game nights. anyone else would wonder what exactly there is to miss but eren understands what you mean. you’ve missed this. your body close to his, his arms wrapped around your little frame, the both of you pathetically desperate for the other. he completely understands.

“fuck, c’mere.” he grabs your face between his fingers to smoosh your cheeks in the slightest bit, make your lips pucker, then dips his tongue inside of your mouth for a sloppy kiss.

squelch, squelch, squelch — your pussy slurps and sucks in his fingers; pink walls grip tight around them and he spreads the digits of his ring and middle apart each time he pushes them in to get you to relax and stretch out. “what’s all that bullshit you was spewin’ earlier, hm?”

you feel his fingers exit your body so that he can lift up on his knees and reach for the neckline of his shirt to tear it up and off of his torso. the action leaves his hair a little messy and eren has to rake his hand through it to get it all off of his face. he wears a cocky, little smile on his lips. “ ‘you’re just tryna fuck me again,’ “ he mocks in a low tone while bending his head lower to skim his nose against yours. he wants you to feel his words on your lips. “ ‘fuck you, eren,’ and at your mom’s house? ‘nah, me and eren are just friends, could never date him.’ why’d you lie to her?”

you can feel him kicking his sweats and briefs off and somehow, the reality of the situation seems to hit you at full speed. you grow flustered and cover your face with your palms. “. . i d-didn’t lie.”

“you’re lying again right now, though.”

stupid, smart mouthed fucker. “fuck you, e—“

in a moment, he has your wrists gathered within one of his big palms and pinned above your head. and with the other, he grabs the base of his cock and makes his fat tip bounce up and down against your clit with sticky taptaptap sounds.

it’s fascinating, really — how your words immediately die out on your tongue as your brain goes foggy when you feel it. and eren certifiably, without a doubt adores how your pupils dilate . . leaving only a thin ring of color around a black, nebula filled disc revealing his reflection staring back at him. he’s the only thing plaguing your ditzy, little brain.

“oh my god,” is whispered when he uses his thumb to settle himself past that first, slight band of muscle.

off the bat, tight, mushy, warm wetness greets his cock with what feels like a firm hug. “oh …” his words expire upon the inlay of his tongue until all of his inches are seated comfortably inside of you. “f-fuck.”

god, he thinks what you own between your legs should be illegal. not a thought runs across his mind that didn’t include him giving you the keys to his car, his apartment, and his deposit box.

his initial thrusts are slow. he breathes you in, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, lips to lips.

“l-like that,” you whimper and hook your calves against the back of his knees as if to force him to not move one more muscle. “hng, j-jus’ like that, eren.”

he’s rotating his hips on each downward grind so that the roof of his cock brushes against your gspot. your eyes flutter close before you burst them back open . . only for them to unconsciously close again. you’re beautiful.

been so long . . eren’s been holding in his feelings for you for so long that when he gets the chance to physically express them, it quickly becomes overwhelming for poor you. ‘cause you give a little squeal when he lets your wrists go to grab you by the backs of your knees, push them up into your tits until your soft tummy creases with plush rolls . . and start to full on sob when his momentum increases.

the clapping of your skin meeting his is loud . . it echos over the lo fi tunes that are now mindlessly playing on your pink beats pill and your fingers claw at soft viscose when you feel the fabric starting to rub against the skin of your ass and back. “oh my god,” your voice is caught between a hiccup, squeak, and gasp. “oh my . . g-god — eren, please.”

his jaw is clenched and his hair is wild — it frames a face of pure frustration. irises of darkened emerald are fixated on your pussy … on how plush and fat it is . . how it oozes pasty, thick cream the color of silvery white. eren even thinks he sees a few speckles of glitter in the mix, knows he shouldn’t be surprised because every fucking thing about you is pretty, perfect, and divine. “you’re a fuckin’ brat, y’know that?” he pants while his fingers wrap around your waist to grip onto and make you start to meet his pummels halfway. “ ‘say you love me, eren.’ you already know i fuckin’ do.”

you’re hiccuping and whimpering with one of your little hands gripping onto your bouncing tit while your other fingers occupy your empty, drooly mouth. “mm, d-don’t say that, eren.”

he doesn’t know why, but eren huffs a short laugh after you say that. maybe it’s in the tone of how you said it — all tiny, frail, and whimpery . . not an ounce of shock underlying the pitch. it’s like you’ve known this entire time; just been too scared to delve deep into it.

he drops himself down to your level — lets your legs go and leaves them dangling over his shoulders and his palms pressed flat beside your face. “think ‘m lyin’?” he whispers. his pace slows again. he lazily pulls his cock out until the tip is the only thing that stays nestled inside of you . . and slams back in . . then he’s slowly pulling out again and snapping back in again. “think i’d put up with your smart fuckin’ mouth all this time if i didn’t, hm?”

you sniffle, “fuck you.”

he hums, “mm. i know.”

your orgasm wasn’t that far off nor approaching it difficult. however, you can feel that this one was different, and you’ve spent enough time overstimming yourself with your favorite pink, self thrusting dildo during the peaks of early mornings to realize what was going to happen.

your pretty face screws up and you push at eren’s sculpted torso with weak fingers, “ ‘m gonna . . feels like ‘m gonna …”

eren can’t help but feel a tinge of excitement spark within the base of his gut . . because if what’s going to happen is what he thinks … “stop squirmin’.”

he lifts your legs higher until you’re practically folded in half. you’re left helpless in this position and his cock is pounding away at your pussy as if he couldn’t get enough of it. the closer the edge nears, the more you try to escape his grasp. “e-eren, seriously,” you’re sobbing out of too much pleasure if anything. “ ‘s so embarrassing — pull out!”

“better not fuckin’ move, _____.” you flinch at your full name leaving his lips. “let it out or it’s gonna be a problem.”

when his thumb finds the pulsing, puffy bud of your clit, it’s instantaneous. a flood of watery cum drains out of you in a rush of hard spouts. eren moans long and loud as if he could feel it too and keeps pounding you where you lay, obsessed with how your eyes stay rolled back inside your skull and how your entire body trembles until every little drip is forced out of you. “oh, fuck. good girl,” he groans. “so fuckin’ good. there you go.”

his arms slip underneath your back so that he can lift and gather you within his grasp. he’s hugging you and mumbling, “come back to me . . there you go. come back, pretty.”

you’re left sniffling and twitching, legs wrapped around his waist and your face nestled within his neck. so much . . you feel so much. but still, “don’t stop, eren. want more, gimmie more.”

he will. he most definitely fucking will.

tatted fingers grip the soft, plush meat of your ass when he adjusts his position — him seated with his back against the arm of the sofa and you on his lap. he doesn’t allow you to move a muscle, even still . . just grabs you by the ass, quite literally, and bounces you up and down on his dick without a single breath hitched. he’s just . . watching you, sometimes letting a whimpered curse slip out, but that’s neither here nor there. he’s just … focused on you.

and you want to crawl into a hole and just die because as much as you try to hold your sounds of bliss in or keep your facial expressions from morphing into ones showing how you truly feel, it doesn’t work. your head lolls along your shoulder as your mouth drops and tongue slips out when he touches that special, little bundle of nerves inside of you again. “mmm, my god,” you want to cry so you do. “daddy, please.”

immediate. eren’s going to cum. he’s going to fuckin— “holy shit.” dull fingernails dig into soft, doughy skin as his head throws back. tendons within his neck strain and pull taut while his balls draw up close to his body and he makes sure to seat you flushed up against him for when the first spurt of his hot, thick, potent cum shoots up into your womb. “uh huh . . f-fuck, take it all.”

you’re shocked upon realizing that eren starts to fuck up into you at an even quicker pace than before, leaving your frantic little hands to fly out and reach for his shoulders for something to hold onto. “ ‘s so much,” you’re whimpering on half a mind. “daddy, ‘s so much.” you can literally feel him filling you up. it’s addicting.

“ooh, i know,” eren brings you back in close and rubs the cheeks of your ass in slow, wide circles as he tries to catch his breath after he finally slows down. “i know, baby. i’m sorry. you just feel too good.”

you nuzzle your face against his chest and relax within his hold, finding yourself exhausted beyond compare. and because of that, they catch up to you slow — eren’s words. ’ “ say you love me, eren. “ you already know i fuckin’ do. ‘ “mm,” you whine and turn your face so that it’s pressed up against his heart between his pecs. “i cant believe you said that.”

“hm?” eren’s tapping the meat of your ass with his fingers absentmindedly. it takes a while for him to let realize it, too. “what? i love you?”

“yes,” you fight to curl into yourself. “that was …” you shyly take a peek up at him to see his eyes already focused on yours. his face is blank . . unreadable. “that was in the heat of the moment, right?”

his answer’s simple, “no.”

your heart drops.

“what?” surprisingly, eren begins to smile. “you don’t want me to love you? ‘cause i can stop—“

“—wait, no, no!” you cower upon realizing that you’ve cut him off mid sentence in a haste. his smile broadens. “i . . i didn’t say that.”

eren hums and lets his fingers drift a little lower to find your pussy still stretched along his cock. “yeah?” you soften up and give a little nod, glossy lips shaping around an ‘o’ as your eyes go half lidded. “uh huh.”

“and why shouldn’t i?”

he starts to grind your hips back and forth and your mouth drops. “because,” you mewl. “b-because . .”

eren mocks your tone, “because what?”

he’s so mean. you pout, “because eren!” there’s no question, beyond a shadow of a doubt, by all means that, “because i love you, too.”

eren smiles the hardest you’ve seen since you have met him. “is that right?”

you’re a whiny, little mess — pouting and sniffling with your big, round eyes blinking up into his, “you know i do.”

🥹🥹

Kruger and Vixen

Pairing: Spy!Eren Jaeger x Thief!reader

Synopsis: Having a love-hate relationship is fun until Eren messes it up, driving you away.

Warning: Guns, mentions of violence, angst, threatening behavior, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 7077

“Pizza’s here.”  Eren mumbles, looking past the newspaper in his hands.  “I can’t quite tell if it’s pepperoni.”  He folds the paper and places it on the bench in which he is currently sitting on.  “I’ll go see for myself.”

Casually, Eren stands to do a small stretch and heads across the street to the museum.

“It’s a little chilly tonight, isn’t it?”

“Ah, no worries, Coconut head.  I wore extra layers.”  Eren grins at nobody in specific, patting his particularly hard abdomen, as he slips in an alleyway.

“Avatar Aang left you a snack.”

Eren knelt and dug through a garbage bag to see a Glock, groaning when he doesn’t see anything more.

“Where’s the hot sauce?”

“You are to ask some from the pizza guy.”

Eren scoffs, hopping on top of the garbage bins with ease after securing the Glock in his belt holster.  “I doubt he’ll give it so willingly.”

He easily lifts himself up to uncover the vents. The dusty, grimy, cramped vents.

“You should head straight, turn left, and then take another left, you’ll find the pizza guy and his customers soon enough.”

Eren groans, the small vent was not really made for a man with his build, not to mention the thick dust that could give him asthma any moment now.  “Alright, I want radio silence until then.”

“Have fun.”

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🤰🏽

Well hello there.

Credit: 444Jaeger instagram

yeah ight.