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NOW LIVE: IN A TRANCE feat. e. jaeger

SUMMARY: eren feels like you have him in in a trance

CONTENT WARNINGS: college! plug! eren x fem! reader, smut, mdni, college au, smoking weed, reader has piereced nipples and belly piercing, dub con (both eren & reader are high), neck kissing/sucking, nipple play, oral (f. receiving), face sitting, hand job, pussy drunk eren, nickname (pretty girl), slight dirty talk, wc. 1,957

FROM STREAMER: thank you guys for all the love on my toji fic and for 800 followers <<3333

Eren Jaeger was the well know dealer around the campus, even having some clients that didn't attend the university. So it shouldn't have surprised him when it's you walking out of the apartment building he was sitting in front of waiting to make a delivery.

He had received a text earlier that day from someone saying they needed weed to help them relieve some stress from exams, and the person didn't live far, just on the opposite side of his apartment complex, so he didn't mind driving. Now seeing that it was you he was texting, he felt his heartbeat pick up the closer you got to his car.

From the moment he saw you on campus you've had him under your spell. Every time he would pass you on campus or see you at a party, it was like he was in a movie scene where the girl has a light from heaven shining on her and everything else around her was blurry.

Sometimes his jaw would fall open, Armin wiping the side of his mouth while saying, "Close up pretty boy, you're drooling." The comment making Jean and Connie laugh also adds to the teasing, resulting in Eren punching both boys in the arm and muttering a 'shut up.'

You clouded his thoughts, even when you weren't around somehow, distracting him while doing homework, playing the game, hanging out with friends, and even smoking. Just from locking eyes with you for one second, you were all this man could think about.

Hearing a knock on his window pulls him out of his thoughts and he rolls the window down, greeting you with a smile.

"Thank you so much for doing this," holding out your hand to give him the $30, he counts it before handing you 15. "You said it was 30."

He shakes his head, handing you the small baggy, "New customer deal." He had never given a new customer a 50% off deal before, but for you, he made the exception.

"I appreciate that Eren," and then your face contorts into a small pout. "Uh...actually, do you think you could roll these for me? I've never rolled one before."

"Oh yeah, definitely," he holds his hand out for the bag.

"How about you come up to my apartment?" You put your hands on your face in embarrassment, laughing a little. "Sorry if I sound forward or weird, I just would rather you be comfortable since I'm making you do more work.

He agrees saying it's not weird and gets out of his car following you into the building. Opening the door to your apartment he's greeted with a warm scent of vanilla as he looks around. Your lights are dim, soft sounds of Rick and Morty playing on your tv that's mounted on a wall, and a few pictures of you with friends and family next to it.

You gesture for him to sit on your couch making room on the small table you had in front of it for him to use. You sat on the smaller sofa on the opposite side of the couch pulling your legs up to your chest.

"You a smoker?" he questions taking the weed out of the small baggy he had placing it in his grinder.

"Not really, I smoke at parties if my friends have some, but that's it," he nods, taking the weed out of the grinder and sprinkling it on the paper. "How long have you been dealing?"

Pursing his lips together, he looks up thinking, "About a year."

"Do you like it?" you question, head leaning against your arms.

"Yeah, it's not a hard job, drugs are always in demand, so I'll always have business," he explains. "and the pay is good."

Finishing up rolling your blunts, he smiles at you as he shows them to you, "Perfection."

"Thank you so much," you stand up, trying to hand him the other $15 but he puts his hand up stopping you.

"I told you, new customer deal," you follow him to your door, walking him out. "Text me if you need anything else."

Making it a weekly thing, you text him when you need some weed and he'll come up to your apartment to roll it for you. The more he comes over the more you two get to know each other, eventually asking him to just stay and smoke with you, since he was still giving you a discount even though you're not a new customer anymore.

You started inviting him to hang out at your place, not even wanting to smoke, just wanting to be around him. You would notice him just staring at you sometimes, snapping your fingers in his face and he'd just apologized with a laugh. It didn't bother you, not even close, it made you feel fuzzy all over, and you finally decided to ask him about it.

Your bedroom is filled with laughter and hip-hop playing softly in the background as you are both laid on your bed. His head felt fuzzy, you consuming his thoughts and he didn't even realize he was staring with a dopey grin on his face.

"Why do you do that?" you have the same dopey grin on your face as you're looking at him and Trance by Metro Boomin starts to play.

"Do what?" He raises his eyebrow nodding his head to the beat of the song.

"Stare at me. You do it a lot," you sit up against your bed frame, your hand scratching at his scalp. He had his hair in a bun, a few strands framing his face.

"I don't know . . . you're just pretty," he licks his lips, eyes still staring into yours.

"Shut up," you laugh and he closes his eyes, enjoying your fingers playing in his hair.

"I'm serious, you're so pretty," you don't say anything. You both just humming to the music.

"You know this song reminds me of you," you look down at him, his eyes still closed.

"Why's that?"

"Whenever I look at you, I feel like I'm in a trance," he moves his hand to run over your leg. "even randomly throughout the day I'll just start thinking about you."

You pushed his head to make him look away from you as your grinning, cheeks hurt, "That's just the weed talking."

"It's not, I swear," his eyes open. "The first time I saw you, way before I even brought you weed that first time, I felt like you were compelling me to just focus on you."

"You're so dramatic," you sigh head leaning back against the headboard.

"You were just so pretty, I couldn't even focus on anything else that day," he confessed. "Even after that, we never talked and you would randomly just pop up in my head."

You hid your face in his hand, giggling at his words, head feeling so hazy. Taking a peek at him from between your fingers, he lights the blunt that was sitting on your nightstand, and he just looks so good . . .

"Come here," he taps your thighs and you look at him confused cause you’re already so close. "Sit on my lap."

Without a second thought, you were straddling his lap, feeling his dick right against your thigh, and he lets out a small groan, as he is exhaling the smoke. His eyes are low and red, looking over your body. You're wearing a white camisole that stopped just above your belly piercing and black shorts that showed quite a bit of your ass.

His hand is rubbing your thigh, his lip caught between his teeth. Your hands go under his hoodie, lightly scraping your nails against his soft skin, licking your lips at how good he looks.

He's licking his dry lips as he's looking at you before taking another drag of the blunt. Grabbing your face he pulls you down so your lips are almost touching and he blows the smoke into your mouth while you inhale it. Closing the little space between you, your lips are pressed to his in a needy and heated kiss.

Hands comb through his hair as you're lightly grinding against him, needing to ease the sensation between your legs. He puts the bunt in the ashtray then both of his hands go down to your ass, groping and helping you grind against him. Your both moaning in each other's mouth, whiny breaths.

"Want you to sit on my face," he says between kisses with a smile. You peck his lips a few more times before crawling up his body so you're clothed pussy is hovering over his face. Using his index finger, he slides your shorts over revealing your glistening cunt. He nudged your clit with his nose, inhaling your scent, then blowing his breath on the nub watching you shiver.

Being impatient you sit down on his face and he hums burring his face between your thighs, tongue greedily lapping at your wet folds. You're grabbing onto the headboard, moans slipping from your lips, as he's flicking his tongue against your clit.

He's so loud as he slurps your essence from your dripping hole, feeling it clench around nothing against his lips. You're whimpering his name, fingers tugging at his brown locks, eyes looking down to meet his. "Taste . . so good," he's so pussy drunk already, loud moans vibrating against your lower lips.

Grinding your little puffy nub into his nose, his tongue slides into your drooling hole, penetrating it, feeling you squeeze his pink muscle. He's watching your eyes screwed shut, jaw slack, and head falling back.

He has the perfect few of your pebbled nipples poking through your shirt, as your chest rises and falls, the more you hump his face, "So pretty—riding my face."

You reach behind you rubbing your hand against his bulge and he's instantly grinding against it, so needy to be touched. You push his sweatpants down with the help of him raising his hips, and his dick flings out free. You give him a few pumps before spitting in your hand and stroking him again, "Ah—fuck."

He's so messy eating your pussy, nose and chin sticky with your arousal, desperately slurping at your pussy, the sounds getting louder and filthier, as your thighs twitch around his head. He's moaning and groaning, at the taste of your pussy and how good your hand feels wrapped around his dick.

Your legs are growing tired, shamelessly humping his face, feeling your orgasm almost hit its peak, "Gonna . . cum Eren."

His eyes are rolling back, mumbling something incoherent into your pussy as his hips are stuttering into your hand. He slides his hands from your ass up to your nipples, pinching and pulling at the buds, as you start to twist your wrist and squeeze his tip as you stroked his cock.

Holding his head still with the grip you had on his now messy bun, you feel your orgasm crash over you with a few screams of Eren's name, and he's following right behind you. Globs of cum coating your hand and his lower stomach, your hand still moving helping him ride out his orgasm.

When you both come down from your highs, you're sitting back on his thighs, Eren's face is glistening with your arousal, licking his lips savoring your taste. With a lazy grin on your face, you lean down giving him sloppy kisses, tasting yourself on his lips with a moan, "Taste so sweet, pretty girl."

Kissing down your neck to your chest, he's sucking on one of your nipples, tongue darting out licking around the cold metal hearts, while his fingers play with the other one, "Can I taste you again?"

©SPIDERSANGEL 2023 | all rights reserved. please don’t copy, steal, modify, or repost my work on other sites.

---

Slutty Red Dress

The very second Eren saw that purity ring on your finger, he knew he needed to have you for himself. Lucky for him, you're trying to figure out the perfect way to piss off your parents.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, all characters are of age, modern au, college au, fuckboy!Eren, Catholic!Reader, drinking, Fem!Reader, brief mentions of homophobia, smut, oral (f receiving), public fingering, exhibition, virginity loss, dirty talk?, unprotected sex, creampie, light choking, degradation (kind of?), praise, mating press, probably unrealistic but that's fine, definitely not beta read, proof read or even reread by me, let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 4.6k

Masterlist

AOT Masterlist

The moment Eren Yeager saw that purity ring sparkling on your finger was the moment he knew he was the one that needed to take your virginity.

He didn't even know you all that well—you were just an awkward acquaintance that sat beside his best friend all four years of high school. He only ever saw you in passing, be it walking past you in the hallways or across the cafeteria laughing with your friends.

He never paid you any mind until one day, the day you turned sixteen, you walked into school with a ring on your finger.

You wore it everyday, and Eren eventually asked around and found out it was a purity ring your parents had given you.

Since then he'd been doting on you, finding reasons to sit near you or talk to you. He'd started greeting you in the hallways and waving to you in the lunchroom.

He practically stalked your Instagram page to see if you had a boyfriend and learn any other information about you. That was how he found out you were a devoted Christian waiting to give yourself away until marriage. To his knowledge you remained single throughout all of high school, hardly showing an interest in anyone.

That same routine had gone on for years, but the effort proved to be fruitless because you always either sneaked away before he had a chance at a proper conversation or were surrounded by your friend group.

When the first year of college came around he prayed to God that you hadn't moved out of the city to attend some fancy ivy league school. You had always been a million times smarter than everyone in your graduating class and he knew the list of extracurriculars you'd participated in over the years went on for miles. Any college would be lucky to have you.

But when the first semester came around, you were there, coming out of the campus Starbucks holding a mystery drink.

With that fucking purity ring on your finger.

He was almost surprised—he remembered you saying towards the end of your senior year that you had planned to go to Stanford, he'd even heard later in the summer that you had been accepted. What baffled him was why you would choose Paradis University over the dozens of much better schools you applied to and (most likely) got accepted into.

After he digging around he found out that your parents had hidden all your acceptance letters and forged rejection letters instead. Apparently they didn't want you going where they couldn't keep a close eye on you.

It piqued Eren's interest, especially because from what he had seen you'd never shown interest in a romantic relationship.

The first couple weeks you had seemed pretty down, but soon enough you were back to the smiling, innocent girl Eren was used to.

—

He often saw you at parties, standing in the corner drinking from a plastic water bottle while you either scrolled on your phone or observed from the side. You never wore anything too out there or revealing, normally going for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew you were the designated driver for your friend group, and had tried multiple times to approach you only to be dragged back into the crowd by the girl he'd been talking to before you arrived.

He remembered the first time he saw you at a party, actively rejecting a guy hitting on you while you scrolled on your phone. It had been the first college party Eren had attended, and he remembered leaning over to whisper, "I'm gonna fuck her," in Armin's ear.

His gaze never left you, and when Armin turned his head to see who Eren was talking about he laughed.

Eren had raised his eyebrows at Armin as if to ask what was so funny.

Armin slowly nodded, softly chuckling. "Good luck with that. Have you met her?"

"Of course I have. She seems easy enough."

Arming laughed again, taking a sip of the off-brand beer in his hands. "Seems. She definitely isn't. Y'know how many guys have hit on her in the past? Plenty during the classes we've had together alone. She always rejected them, but not just that. She would destroy their egos, dude. Not to mention her parents are fucking psychos."

"Right, they forged rejection letters from ivy league schools just so she would have no choice but to stay where they could watch her," Eren said absentmindedly. Truth be told, he wasn't listening to a word Armin said, instead watching as you continued to give curt responses to whoever hit on you.

"They don't let her out of their sight. Ever. See her over there?" Armin vaguely motioned to the couch across the room, where a redhead wearing a tight green dress sat. "She's someone her parent's hired to follow her around and keep an eye on her."

Eren glanced over at the girl before his gaze returned to Armin. "And how do you know all this?"

Armin shrugged. "I'm the only person she talks to that isn't a church friend or was introduced by her parents. She tells me stuff she wouldn't dare tell them."

"So she knows she's being watched?"

"Of course she does. She doesn't know about the letters, though." Armin took another sip of his beer as Eren hummed, glancing back at you. He gently slapped Eren's arm when he was drifting from reality again. "Don't try anything. She's a sweet girl and doesn't need shit like you getting her in trouble with her parents."

Eren held his hands up in mock defense. "I wasn't even doing anything!"

Armin glared at him, the same scolding face he'd been giving Eren for years when he did something wrong. Eren rolled his eyes, dragging Armin to go play beer pong.

Three years later Eren was surprised your parents hadn't married you off already, purity ring still sparkling on your finger.

This was the year. He was determined to sleep with you at some point. Whether it be during the fall or spring semester, it would happen.

And it finally did one night when you were wearing a lovely red dress.

—

Imagine the look of surprise on Eren Yeager's face when he saw you—the sweet, innocent, Catholic girl that never wore or did anything to purposely arouse men—wearing the sluttiest red dress he'd ever seen, drink in hand and grinding your ass against some random guy.

He was so taken aback he froze, standing in the doorway as he watched the way your hips smoothly moved. He wondered where you learned to move like that for a moment before being pushed out of the doorway.

He tore his gaze off you, turning his head to give a half-assed apology to whoever had pushed him. When he turned back to look at you, your arms were wrapped around a woman, feeling her up before kissing her.

Eren's eyes widened. Oh, dear, what were you up to? Showing up to a frat party dressed in what you wore was one thing, he could assume you simply wanted to try it out for once, but kissing a girl? Especially when your parents were very publicly homophobic.

He's not exactly sure what, but something inside him knows tonight is the night.

And, dear God, with the way you're grinding against everyone but him makes him feel so hot and heavy.

You're still wearing your purity ring, but Eren takes note of how you so obviously make sure its seen. You're practically waving it in front of everyone's faces with the way you flip your hair behind your shoulder and exaggeratedly put your hand to your chest.

And Eren definitely doesn't miss the hungry look in his classmates' eyes as you do so. He had pushed the jealousy down, instead asking around to see if anyone knew what you were up to. No one knew, but he knew that he was going to be the one you did something with.

He sees the woman Armin pointed out to him years ago, the redhead hired to watch you, holding a red solo cup to her lips as she watched you. You definitely knew she was watching you, but that didn't stop you from feeling up and kissing more people.

Once, the only time he had taken his eyes off you that night, Eren turned back to find you pressed against a wall, legs wrapped around his friend Jean as he sucked on your neck. Eren couldn't hear you, but he saw your lips open to moan in Jean's ear.

You were making direct eye contact with Eren, and you smirked when he turned back to you. His cock had already been semi-hard, but dear god that look you gave him just made his ache for you stronger.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

You'd found out earlier that week what your parents had done to your acceptance letters before you even started college. You had been looking for something in their closet, and found a long forgotten box that held the letters inside.

You grew even more pissed as you read each one. This is what you could have had instead of attending some general college that accepts anyone that applies. You could've been at the ivy league school of your dreams instead of cooped up inside your parents' house all day.

Reading the letter from Stanford is what blew your fuse. You knew your parents were protective, but this was a lot more than necessary. This was the kind of bullshit psycho helicopter parents who set up hidden cameras in their children’s room pulled.

You decided that you needed to get them back some way.

You figured being an active participant in a college party would be enough to make them blow up, but while you were staring at Eren from across the room, pressed against the wall by one of his closest friends, you knew you wanted to do more.

You'd known Eren had the hots for you since your mother gave you the purity ring that sat on your finger. You knew that the reason he started talking to you so randomly was because he wanted to get into your pants.

You had hoped to get away from it when you were across the country, attending the school of your dreams.

And when your dad handed you the forged rejection letter, you hoped Eren's little obsession with taking your virginity would fizzle out once the first semester started.

You were very wrong about that. But you suppose that's a good thing, now. Especially since recently he seemed to have a different air about him, and suddenly your intention to make your parents as pissed off at you as you were at them seemed like a piece of cake. Losing your virginity—to a non-Christian at that—would definitely do that.

It's not like you genuinely wanted to wait until marriage, or even a committed relationship, anyway. You always figured that if the opportunity arose you'd take it, and it never did. Not with anyone you kind of liked, at least.

You gently pushed Jean away, making up some excuse about needing to go check on a friend. He nodded, kissing you once more before letting you go.

Jean was nice, but definitely not who you wanted your first to be.

You approached Eren with swaying hips, leaning on the kitchen counter beside him and innocently smiling up at him. You propped yourself on your arms, making sure to make your boobs look bigger by pushing them together.

"What are you doing, Miss Catholic?" he asked before you even got a chance to say anything. He offered you a drink from his cup, to which you politely declined.

"I don't think I know what you're talking about," you replied. You slowly licked your lips, watching as his eyes followed your tongue.

"Well the first thing I see walking in is yourself in this lovely little number." He gently grabbed your hand, making you straighten yourself out before making you spin for him. "And then I see you kissing a woman."

"Is there something wrong with that? I'm a supporter of the LGBT community, you know." He stopped spinning you, which gave you an opportunity to stand closer to him.

"I knew that you were, you're just not one publicly. Your parents hate that community and you would never do something that goes against their morals."

You softly hum. "What else am I doing?"

Eren's hand travels, finding itself resting on the small of your back. He pulls you against him, smiling down at you. "Well you're grinding and switching guys to make out with like a fucking whore. Trying to get attention, sweetheart?"

He leaned down, your noses nudging each other. "Jealous I've done that with everyone but you?"

"And what if I am?" Eren's voice is low and sultry, almost like he's trying to seduce you. Which he really doesn't have to do since you're already soaking your panties.

You let out a breath of amusement, smiling up at him as you bring a hand up to trail down his chest. “Listen, Eren, I know what you’re after.”

“What am I after?”

You meet his gaze. The emerald green of them reminds you of sin and evil, especially with the way Eren looks at you like you’re a piece of meat meant to be devoured.

Your hand tightens in his shirt, pulling him so close your lips nearly lock together. “You want to corrupt me,” you whisper. “You want to be the one that takes my virginity, don’t you?”

The way he grins and hums tells you everything you need to know. He’s still obsessed with that. Before, back in high school, you never would’ve dreamed you’d be in this position, but here you are, standing in a borrowed dress desperate to lose your virginity.

“I’m willing to give it to you,” you say in his ear. “If and only if we make a big deal of it first.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What do you mean by that?”

You softly hum. “I need to piss my parents off, and nothing will get them going more than knowing their little girl allowed herself to sin so willingly and have sexual intercourse before marriage. I need them to know that I did it. If we just go up to a room they can assume I didn’t give myself away like that. Their little assistant they hired to spy on me wouldn’t follow us to confirm whether or not I did it, so we need to do something she can report in her line of sight.”

Eren nodded, his fingers spreading across your back. “I can work something out for that.”

He smiles, a beautifully devious smile, and looks down at you. You return the smile, finally pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

—

Your soft intake of breath doesn’t go unnoticed. The redhead in green sits across the sitting area from where you and Eren are sat. You notice her eyes dart away from her phone towards you, her hands still pretending to scroll through social media.

You exaggerate another moan as he kisses your neck, spreading your legs even more to allow his fingers to slip inside of you instead of grazing over the insides of your thighs.

“You’re making it sound fake, sweetheart,” Eren whispers in your ear. He eyes the woman in green, watching as she crosses her legs and leans back on the couch. “Don’t force it.”

“Well sorry.” You roll your eyes. “I’ve never done this before.”

Your breath hitches when you feel the tips of his fingers softly graze your clothed pussy. God, you just know he can feel how wet you are. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so embarrassed about anything.

“God, you’re fucking wet. All this for me?”

Not exactly, you think. You had unintentionally turned yourself on while grinding against multiple people, allowing yourself to imagine for just a moment what it would be like to fuck them.

“Of course it isn’t. Because you’re nothing but a whore desperate to displease her parents.”

His words alone were enough to make you softly whine, but mixed with the way he delicately moved your panties to the side and ran his middle finger up to your clit had you moaning his name.

It wasn’t a secret what you two were doing, but no one cared. They were either too shit-faced to remember or were too focused on other things. The two of you were almost free as birds where you sat.

You sharply inhale, hand gripping the navy chair’s arm as he slowly slipped a finger inside your folds.

You softly gasp, letting your head drop back onto his shoulder as you close your eyes. You’re on display for anyone to see, but that thought gets put on the back burner once you feel the cold metal of Eren’s rings press against you.

He starts leaving kisses along the side of your neck, his free hand slowly traveling up and down your torso.

“You like this, huh?” Another moan slips from your lips as he adds his ring finger. “Never would’ve taken the pretty Catholic girl to be so into something like this.”

“Eren, please.” It’s pathetic, really, the way he easily managed to turn you to putty in his lap. The way you quietly beg for him to move his fingers faster was humiliating, but you couldn’t help the way it made you feel.

“Please what?” You couldn’t see it, but you could feel Eren's condescending gaze burning through you. “You need to speak up.”

You softly grunt as his other hand moves down, gliding across your clit. You press your lips together to suppress a moan. "You know what, asshole."

He laughs in your ear, thrusting his fingers into you just a bit faster. His other hand moves up to softly squeeze one on your breasts, moving your dress down.

He stops just as your tits are about to spill out, moving his hand to place a firm hold on the base of your neck.

"We move at my pace, sweetheart. Got that?"

You sigh in frustration, your grip on the chair tightening as you roll your hips against his hand.

His hold on your neck tightens and he removes his fingers from inside you, making you whine out at the loss.

"My pace."

He's gone back to teasingly rubbing your entrance, always just barely missing the spot you need his most. When you let out a sigh of defeat and relax in his hold, he slips his fingers back inside.

You moan at the sudden intrusion, your legs involuntarily moving to close.

Eren moves his free hand to your thigh, forcing your legs to stay apart. "Don't fucking run. You asked for this, remember?"

His words go in one ear and out the other, but you nod anyway. You don't think you'd be able to find it in yourself to disagree with anything he says—not with the way his fingers slowly drag across your walls, making you desperate for more.

This time when you start rolling your hips he doesn't stop you. He lets you slowly rub yourself on his hand because he's too distracted by the way your ass grinds against his cock.

God, this needs to hurry up so he can fuck you already.

The way his fingers suddenly speed up has you keening his name, pressing yourself further into him. You weren't sure if the redhead had been watching you before, but you're sure of it now because you see her stand up and leave.

You smile, turning your head to whisper, "Okay, she saw. We can-"

You moan, his long fingers grazing a spot you didn't even know was there as his thumb drew slow circles on your clit.

"We're finishing what we started. Now be a good girl and sit still."

His free hand splayed across your stomach, keeping you from squirming or moving away as his fingers increase their speed. You grip the arms of the chair, attempting to muffle a moan. It seemed to suddenly occur to you that there could be people watching. It didn't matter how high or wasted they were, they would still be drawn to the show.

Eren whispered something in your ear. You didn't understand what he'd said, but the tone of voice had the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and your pussy clenching around his fingers.

He condescendingly hummed in your ears as you came undone with a cry of his name. He let out an amused breath, slipping his fingers out of you and readjusting your panties. He gave your cunt a soft pat before gently pushing you off him.

Your legs slightly shook as you stood and fixed your dress, not used to the amount of pleasure you had just received. You fixed your hair, letting out a heavy breath before turning back to Eren.

You almost told him goodbye, your original plan completely slipping your mind. Now that your parents' redheaded employee had seen you and walked away from the party, it completely slipped your mind that you'd promised Eren could be your first.

Even if you'd forgotten, you most certainly didn't mind when he grabbed you by the elbow and began dragging you upstairs.

—

The two of you were hardly dressed when Eren kicked the bedroom door behind him. You're not sure whose room you were in, but you guessed it was a guest room based on the monochromatic color scheme and lack of personality.

Whose room it was didn't matter, though. Not when you didn't even know whose house you were currently in, and especially not when Eren's hands were hot against your skin, desperately trying to remove that slutty red dress from your frame.

He tossed it to the ground once he'd gotten it off, taking only a couple seconds to admire your body before picking you up. Your lips connected in a heated kiss before he started trailing his lips along your jaw and neck.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted you," he moaned into your ear. He dropped you onto the bed, quickly removing his clothes. You didn't even get a chance to look at him before he was on top of you, body pressed to yours. "How long I've wanted you under me like this."

His breath was hot against the column of your throat, planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders and chest. One of his hands held him up, the other leaving a burning trail behind as it drifted to the hem of your panties.

You lifted your hips slightly as he pulled them off, haphazardly tossing them somewhere in the room to be found later.

He continued trailing kisses across your body before you felt something poking at your hole.

You suppressed a soft gasp, immediately being shushed by Eren's soft lips on yours. It was the gentlest thing he'd done all evening, the kiss being chaste and sweet compared to everything else.

"This might hurt a bit, sweetheart. I'll be gentle."

You softly nodded, keeping your eyes closed as you braced yourself for what was to come.

He gently pushed into you, your sharp gasp of surprise enough to make him pause until you told him to continue.

He was so big, though it shouldn't be surprising considering the reputation he has. The rumors that he has the best dick on campus should've set different expectations for you, and though you have nothing to compare it to, you can't imagine ever getting fucked better than this.

Once he's bottomed out inside you he stops, waiting until you give him the green light to go.

He might have been hoping this would happen for years, but it was still your first time. He wanted to make it enjoyable.

"You can move now," you whispered. He gave a single nod, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head before pulling back, slowly thrusting forward.

You gasp, breath hitching in your throat as your eyes shut in pleasure. Eren leaves kisses along your neck as he continues his slow, languid thrusts.

While you're enjoying what he's doing, it's not enough. You need more. You half expected him to fuck you like a crazed animal, thrusting into you with reckless abandon as you beg him to go slower. You never imagined you'd be begging him to be rougher.

Your request is met with a soft chuckle. "You sure, sweetheart?"

You nod. "Yes, I'm sure. I can handle it."

He tilts his head, slightly shrugging. "Alright then."

His hands release yours, moving down your body. He pushes your legs to your chest, making you hold them there.

The new angle makes his thrusts reach deeper inside you. Eren's thrust are long and hard, making you cry out with each one. When one of his hands traveling to where the two of you were connected and stimulating your clit.

All of that combined with the way a sudden, desperate moan slips from him has you seeing stars, clenching around his cock.

His breaths are heavy, soft grunts leaving his lips. "Jesus fucking Christ," he breathes. Your eyes are just barely open, enough to watch his head drop to your chest. You can tell he's fighting the urge to ram into you, which you greatly appreciate.

"M'gonna fill this pussy up, yeah?" You barely process his words but you're nodding anyway, too far gone to care about much else. The way you tighten around him at the words has his groaning as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your body. "You like that idea, huh? How d'you think your parents would react when they find out?"

He knows damn well you can’t answer with the way his cock hits all the right spots inside you. You give a cry of his name instead, orgasm racing to the finish line as his thrusts become sloppier.

“Fuck.” He bites his bottom lip, eyes screwing shut as he suppresses a moan. His orgasm reaches the edge first, his warm cum filling you to the brim. He’s determined to make you finish, too, though, so he fucks into you faster, pushing his cum deeper into your womb.

Your moans are music to his ears, hands still trying to hold your knees against your chest so desperately. The squelching of your mixed fluids is all that fills your ears before your breath hitches, pussy clamping down on his cock as you gush around him.

You release your legs as Eren falls on top of you, panting heavily as he laughs.

“What?” Your voice is hoarse, and you can feel your throat starting to get sore.

“That was the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he simply says.

You laugh as well, shaking your head. “You’re only saying that because I’m a virgin.”

He shakes his head into your chest. “You’re not the only virgin I’ve fucked. You have the best pussy ever.”

Eren lifts his head, flashing you his perfect teeth as he smiles. He leans back, pulling out of you and turning you onto your stomach.

“Now ass up, pretty. We’re no where near done.” He grabs you by the hips and lifts them, pushing your front down. “And while you’re at it, let’s take this off.”

He reached for your hand and removes your purity ring, setting it on the nightstand.

—

The following Monday when you’d see him on campus he’s talking to Jean, fidgeting with a silver chain he’s wearing.

When he meets your gaze you smile and wave, finding yourself walking closer to him.

His lips curl up into a devious grin, and as you get closer you can see the object on his necklace more clearly. You aren’t entirely sure what it is until he holds it up, almost showing it off to Jean.

It’s your purity ring, being paraded around on his neck.

honestly have no clue what this is but I’m not rereading sorry

also this was my first smut work to let me know what y’all think of it

as always i hope y’all enjoyed. likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

-Izzy <3

---

“𝐢’𝐦 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩”

— : [nsfw ] fingering, unprotected sex, mentions of weed and alcohol, fluffy, fuckboy eren (kinda), getting together, pet names

— : wc : 1.4k

it wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his reputation. everyone and their mother knew about eren yeager. he was messy and toxic and no one ever saw him with the same girl twice but he was just so fine and you liked to be messy yourself.

you had a bad breakup and you were a firm believer in the whole “getting over someone, you’d need to get under someone” bullshit. it wasn’t a healthy mindset to have and you knew that, you weren’t in denial about any of it.

he was bad news and your friends had warned you to stay away. you were one of the few that never fell for his stupid grin or his flirtatious attitude. you weren’t that easy to please but that was the problem with a little bit of alcohol and a whole of of weed.

you weren’t planning on going out with your friends, while you enjoyed a good party like anyone your age, you stayed clear of frat boys and their parties.

the problem was that you felt a bit petty. your ex had cheated on you with a sorority girl that he swore he didn’t even know that well.

you blamed yourself for entertaining yet another fuckboy so really, the whole situation with eren couldn’t really be blamed on any substances you took. you were in your right mind which was more embarrassing than being drunk out your mind. you could not blame anyone but yourself and him and his stupid fucking laugh and god he really did sound hot even when he was laughing.

his car was parked right out front and you knew it was because he lived there.

stay away from frat boys

you recited it the entire day and the whole way there. he wasn’t even trying to get into your panties, at least not that you were aware of. he offered to keep you company while your friends were dancing and the next thing you knew, you were smoking his very expensive weed at the back of his black srt and you were weak for sports cars.

“you smell so fucking good” he had said, kissing your cheek and you didn’t push him away, you even leaned in closer and then you were sitting on his lap and he had his hands around your waist.

his eyes were the prettiest shade of green you’d ever seen and a little red rimmed and low did something to you and you couldn’t help but lean in when he moved closer to kiss you.

he was a good kisser, a great fucking kisser and you could understand why he had girls (and guys) falling at his feet. he knew what he was doing and you hated how smug he was.

“i thought you said you’d never let me hit?”

you should’ve left then. you could’ve went straight home because people were starting to leave but you let him lift your skirt up and push two of his very thick fingers into your pussy and if you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed at how wet you were so fast.

just from kissing.

you wanted to hate him but you liked the way he kissed you and he made you feel good.

“fuck baby, you feel so good” he groans into your neck, fucking up into you as you bounce on his lap, “keep going, just like that”

you had never came that had in your life and you almost felt dizzy from it. apart of you wanted to blame the weed but it was him .. all him

you tried to tell yourself that this was just what he did and by the next day, he’d be onto the next because that’s what eren yeager did.

you couldn’t believe how wrong you were and even your best friend and roommate was shocked to see him the next day.

which leads you to your current problem.

“what are you doing here?” your friend raises her brow, not letting him into your apartment and you’ve always been grateful for how much she cared about you.

“i just came to see y/n” he shrugs, “i brought breakfast”

you widen your eyes and rush to fix your hair.

“for your friend too” eren adds before you can tell him you’re not interested. you were so interested and you were sure the man had dropped a rose quarts into your bag before he dropped you off because you couldn’t stop thinking about him at all.

“i’ll eat in my room” your friend offers, still suspicious of him but she knew you’d call her if you needed her.

“see you around” eren grins and it makes you scoff.

what did he mean by that?

“what are you doing here?” you ask, breaking the silence first.

“i wanted to check on you..” he sighs, “despite what people think, i’m not reckless and we got carried away last night”

you try not to think about it. you had made sure to take a plan b and drank enough red bull just in case. you’ve never done anything so stupid before, not even with your ex.

“i never do shit like that” he runs a hand through his hair, “i always wrap it up”

“if you’re worried about me trying to trap you, you can get the fuck out” you glare at him, “i already took a plan b”

“i didn’t even say that” he glares back, “i meant what i said”

“…”

“i came to see you” he says, looking as conflicted as you feel.

“why me?” you ask, knowing he never cared for any of his other … adventures.

“i.. don’t know” he admits, “is it really a bad thing though?”

“you tell me eren” you sigh

“would it be that bad if i wanted to take you out?” he asks, not looking up from his half empty cup of coffee

“eren, if you think you’re going to take me out, fuck me again and toss me aside when you’re bored, i’m not interested” you roll your eyes, “last night—”

“you regret it?” he looks up at you, “is that what it is?”

“don’t put words in my mouth” you scowl, “i was just going to say that we were both intoxicated”

“hardly” he shakes his head, “i like you”

“you like having sex with me”

“you want me to deny it?” he rolls his eyes, “of course i loved fucking you but that’s not what made me wake up at 6 am just to get you and your roommate breakfast knowing your friends don’t like me”

you raise a brow at him.

“word travels around campus fast y/n” he grins, “i’ve tried getting your number enough times to know how they feel about me”

“you never bothered to ask me” you grin. you hate that you feel butterflies in your stomach. he’s been around, it wasn’t anything special that he asked about you. you were sure he did that to everyone he messed around with.

“you know you’re intimidating and i wasn’t ready to be slapped across the face in front of everyone” he shrugs, “i already have a bad reputation, can’t have them thinking you don’t like me”

it wasn’t like you weren’t popular on your own. people tended to gravitate towards you because of how friendly you were and it didn’t hurt that you were extremely hot.

you could think of a million reasons why it was a bad idea but you also didn’t care about any of them. you were certain you’d never get dicked down by anyone the way he fucked you and you had your priorities in check.

even if he was just saying anything to sleep with you again, it was harmless fun.

“let me take you out” he offers, “on a real date”

“have you ever been on one before?” you can’t help but ask, smirking when he frowns.

“no but there’s a first time for everything” he says, “stop making me out to be a bad guy y/n, you have sex too and i never promised anyone anything more than that so call me all the names you want, i didn’t lie”

you didn’t want to admit that he was right. he didn’t have any obligations to anyone and it really wasn’t his fault that people caught feelings for him when he didn’t give them any indications that he’d be interested after the sex.

“.. fine” you say, reaching for your own coffee that’s already gone cold, “don’t make me regret it”

“you have my word baby” he smirks, “it’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on”

---

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

-

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

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