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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

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

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

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

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

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

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

have fun ;)

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

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sasha–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

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

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

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

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

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

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

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

“I still need you. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

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

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

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

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

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

“Close?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s not my-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

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

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

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

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

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

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

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

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

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

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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st4rbwrry · 5 months ago

Text

𝒲𝐻𝒴 𝒟𝒪𝒩’𝒯 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝑀𝐸?

ꔫ eren fails to realize you’re in love with him and has a hard time committing. until he doesn’t have a choice but to face his fears.

꒰ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ꒱ ꔫ . . .14.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, best friends to enemies to lovers + locked in a closet, angst, lots of kissing omgie, lotss of fingering, kreamer!, conflicted feelings, oral [ f + m ], praiseeee, spanking to a t, onyankopon cameo + small fight, toxicity, multiple orgasms, rennie gets jealous, miscommunication + arguments, car sex, use of the 'n' word, small daddy kink usage, self pleasure, biting kink, eren's kinda mean, dom / sub dynamic from both, college au, both are needy, relationship establishment, pet name usage [ baby, mamas ] , minors aren't welcomed! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

ꔫ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . got my heart broke so cheers to this one!

pretty boys with eyes like his never made you want to vomit. you adored every aspect of him, always something nice to look at. it's such a shame men who look like him, ungodly creatures, had the worst fucking personalities. or so make horrible decisions in life. fumble good women. why ruin your aura? standing mere centimeters away from him to protect it currently. though you feared he'd already tainted a portion of it. collateral damage was done. he ruins the psyche of your brain when it comes to men, or being in a relationship period. you don't want to be heartless. that lover girl in you wanted to bloom like a daisy, spread her wings like an angel, and showcase herself proudly like a peacock with the one person she's loved since she was a preteen. instead, you're dealt with being mean, standing your ground, and pretending he didn't have a lock on your heart beating with need. so, yes, looking at his face, the boy you were so dangerously in love with, made you want to vomit.

him, stubborn as usual, stood broodingly in the corner of the closet with his strong arms folded over his chest adorned in a black crewneck tee, stainless steel chain around his neck as you study the adam's apple in his throat shift at the same time he swallows in the awkward silence. solid black jeans clad to his muscular thighs, heavy leather boots covering his feet. his scent is so masculine it fills the small space; moroccan mint with woody cedar musk. that heavenly umber hair of his long in his face, growing inch by inch as the months fly by, close to grazing his shoulders.

you cannot believe your friends barricaded the door just so the two of you could talk out your 'issues'. which, in your view, only means an apology from eren for what he did. the night had gone fine. you, eren, and a couple of your friends all going out to catch a drift meet-up. connie had gotten his taxes back and blew it all on installing skull rims and wrapping his scion frs a pearl lavender. being there mostly to cheer him on as he showed off his precious baby. afterward, grabbing ramen from a spot in chinatown. everyone decided to kick it at your house since you had a spacious living room and all the games.

since you and eren haven't spoken in two months, you kept it cordial. well, that's a lie. briefly spoken. the interactions between you two are nothing short of hi's and hello's. ' how've you been? fine, you? yeah, i'm cool. oh, you got a new tattoo? yeah, the other day. that's nice. hey, congrats on the new home. thanks.' quite frankly, your friends have gotten sick of it. it was ruining the vibe of the group by the two of you being so distant. surrounded by each other in your dimly lit living room, high ceilings, and abstract art while soft rnb played soundly in the background. eren sunk comfortably into your velvet emerald green sofa alongside connie, ymir, and armin. sitting opposite of you while you rested on your loveseat with a glass of sangria in your hand. swirling it while smiling and laughing at any question picked from the stack of cards from a game titled 'we're not really strangers.'

you hated the internal connection you and eren held. no matter what was going on, listening to each of your friends spew nonsense and hysterical laughter, you couldn't keep your eyes off one another. you'd glance, admire his features while deep in thought about all the good things, then the bad. and when he'd catch you, more like feel your burning glare, you'd immediately revert your attention to something else. vice versa. both of you were saying a lot without saying anything.

"꒰♡꒱, it's your turn!" the sound of your name being called kicks you out of your conscience, blinking to clear your view when you realize you'd lost it glaring into your wine glass. you clear your throat, your right leg that's thrown over your left jumping up and down.

"oh, sorry!" you smile faintly, straightening your posture to lean forward and snatch one of the red cards from the deck.

"you're getting tired, aren't you? you're always the first one to fall asleep," ymir pressed, chewing on her newly popped in gum as she manspreads, long arms sprawled behind connie and armin onto the headrest.

“it’s just the wine getting to me,” you suck your teeth, your statement being true. the alcohol in your system making you feel more things than one. flipping the card, you read what it says.

"what are you attracted to that you know isn't good for you?" the inhale and exhale you create as you stare blankly at the card in your hand makes it all too known of the answer you wanted to say, but won't. unexpectedly, your sight scrolls to him, and it makes goosebumps arise on your skin from the look he doesn't give you.

“you're right, i am tired. think i’m going to head to bed.”

the crew watches as you remove the kuromi throw blanket off your lap and take a stand, eren’s eyes strong on your figure as you down the rest of your wine. ymir’s eyes shift between you and him, the urge to say something stronger than ever. though, connie beats her to it.

“nah, sit back down. we need to talk.”

you glare at him, eren doing the same, and everyone’s silent. connie leans forward, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to rub frustratingly at his temple. “let’s be adults and just address the elephant in the room.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about. this silent, petty feud between you two has been going on for damn near two months and i'm sick of it.”

“agreed,” armin nods, pushing his blonde hair away from his face, clenching his jaw in the process. “we’re too fucking grown for childish behavior. the two of you need to talk and situate your issues privately.”

“they’re right. it’s fucking up the vibe of the group,” ymir pitches in.

deep down, you hate to say they were right. but you still felt like you had nothing to say to him, let alone nothing to apologize for. if anything he owed you one. and you’ll stand on that because he’s fucking immature.

“i pray y'all aren’t thinking i’m the reason for this. if we don’t remember, i’m not the person who fucked on another girl around the same time he supposedly wanted to date me.”

that’s when eren picks his head up, throwing silent daggers your way. you’re trying to make him out to be a villain when that wasn't the case. “we had already established that we were just friends. i don’t know why you still have this insight that i, what . . cheated on you or sum?”

the blood in your veins began to boil, scoffing angrily and prodding your inner check with the point of your tongue. “right, because i’m that delusional.”

“stop,” connie squeezes his eyes shut, getting fed up even further. “this bickering shit is the definition of childish. please just go talk, i’m getting a migraine.”

“as long as he’s willing to be honest, sure. but if he’s just going to waste my time, then i have nothing to say,” you shrug, uncaring.

“in some way you still want him around, because if that wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t be here,” ymir counters, not fond of your sudden attitude.

“i can speak for myself,” eren interrupts, tired of being the pass around subject. “i don’t have a problem talking. . . if she’s not g’na punch me.”

“nigg—”

“alright!” armin raises to his feet, tall body towering yours before he’s lifting you off your feet and tossing you over his shoulder quicker than everyone could blink. a gasp falls from you, wriggling your feet as you yell at him to put you down, groaning like a child.

armin finds the nearest closet and sets you down in it, giving a look not to try it. it’s rare to see armin irritated, so he must’ve really been fed up when you see his eyes go dead as he glares at you while raising his palm telling you to stop. you pout, crossing your arms and huffing as you take a seat on a pile of shoe boxes. turning his head, he sees eren sighing and standing to his feet before willingly entering the closet.

armin steps out, giving a fatherly obedient look between the two of you before closing the door. “be nice. handle your shit. we’re going to grab food.”

“food?” you gasp. “wha—i want some!”

“greedy,” eren remarks under his breath. you shoot him a deadly glare.

“fuck you say?”

“i’m not arguing with you over food.”

“wait, are we really getting food?” ymir whispers to connie who confusingly raises his hands.

“no, we’re going to sit here until they figure their shit out,” armin whispers back, taking long strides back towards the couch where he plops down and sinks into. stuffing his hands into his gray hoodie pockets after lowering the hood over his head, closing his eyes.

“they’re gonna fuck, watch,” ymir chuckles, getting up to search your pantry for more liquor, maybe even digging in your fridge for food, now that they mentioned it. “y'all want pasta?”

“what kind?” connie looks up over his phone.

“mhm,” ymir continues to scout, grimacing at your close to empty fridge. “she only has ingredients for pesto pasta. healthy bitch.”

“pass,” connie and armin reject simultaneously.

“more for me!”

now here the two of you stood, in utter silence. you’re avoiding his sharp gaze as much as you can, twiddling anxiously with your fingers. this is the last situation you want to be in right now. the warmth in your cheeks when you catch him staring is the bitch of all trades. that love you held deeply in your chest for years magnetically pulling you to submission. to care. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly in your ears. taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. this was important. the two of you needed to get past this if there’s going to be any change to your relationship. this had to be fixed.

“it seems like you want me to start,” reeling you in, his heavy feet hit the ground the closer he gets to you, nearly standing over you in all of his handsome glory. the air shifts and it feels hotter. you can practically hear the swallow in your throat. why did he feel the need to be so close? who knows. maybe it’s some sort of intimidation tactic. “where should i start?”

“hm, i’d say — apologize for being misleading,” your response is nothing but blunt, your emotions getting the best of your original intent.

eren’s mouth goes agape, chuckling with genuine confusion, brows furrowed in concern. “again, how was i misleading? we've never been anything but friends. i never led you on or made you feel like there was something more between us."

“eren, you literally told me that you wanted to try something new and be apart of me on a deeper level than you were. this was after we had sex, twice need i remind you. then, i find you fucking another girl the day you initiated us to hang out. then you had the nerve to argue with me, and call me fucking crazy.”

“i didn’t call you crazy. i said you needed to go home and sleep off whatever shit you were on that night because you cussed that girl out and almost beat her face in for what? we are not together, ꒰♡꒱.”

“i know that,” the muscles in your jaw spasm from the pressure you put into gritting your teeth. the pain of his denial cutting deep. “you say it as if it’d be such a nuisance. that ‘you’re my best friend’ shit went out the window years ago, and you and me both know it. it’s not my fault you have a hard time with commitment.”

“i don’t have a hard time with commitment,” he scoffs, patience fraying. “i told you that i care for you, and you mean a lot to me. that i have love for you, not that i was in love with you. i value our friendship above anything.”

the more he speaks, the more you come to the realization that this is becoming a waste of time, as you expected. there’s a burn in your throat that’s coaxing the tears to well in your eyes. you’re not going to cry, he doesn’t deserve to see you that way. and it felt pathetic to even do so. he’s throwing the truth directly in your face, but somehow . . you find it hard to believe him. there’s just that small hope that deep down inside he felt the same.

“i don’t understand what you’re afraid of. are you not attracted to me? am i not enough for you? is there another girl on your mind?” and that’s when the desperation pours. that level of dissecting yourself to grasp the context of why he doesn’t want you. your leg bounces out of anxiety, scratching at your thigh with the point of your acrylic. trying your hardest to keep yourself from having a mental breakdown.

eren’s eyes soften at your reaction, his mouth going dry at the clear effect this had on you. months, years worth of emotions built up for him. it makes a heavy pang in his heart, wondering how he could be so blind and stupid. his intentions were never meant to hurt you.

“why would you think that?" eren asks, tilting his head slightly. "i never gave you any indication that you weren't good enough for me. why can’t i just not be ready?”

the words roll off his tongue easily, like they were rehearsed. “if you weren’t ready, eren, you could’ve just been upfront with me to avoid this shit from the jump. i would’ve went about my life if you laid it down on the table in bold fucking letters. but every time we were together, you made me feel like — we had a chance. the hugs, the kisses, the ‘i love you’s, the sex. you treated me like i was your girl. and i could say i’m running with the subject. but, i wouldn’t do that if i didn’t have something being fed to me. i’m not an idiot.”

“i just —” he goes to knock his head back, blowing out a huff of air as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “i don’t want to hurt you, ꒰♡꒱. i don’t know if i can be the person you need right now. i can’t give you what you want. it’s complicated, and it’s not fair to you. i like you, a lot. i can’t explain my exact feelings, but i’ve always been attracted to you. i thought once that maybe it could work out between us, but the more time goes on, the more i realize how fucked up i am. you deserve better. and it kills me to say even that.”

this was triggering for some reason, feeling claustrophobic from the close proximity of his body between the small space of your closet. it’s all making you sick. you felt like you were going to have a panic attack if you stayed in here with him any longer. standing up, you brush past him to rush towards the door, twisting the knob frantically only to find it locked. fuck. groaning, you bang on the door, anticipated to kick it down if no one let you out in the next five seconds.

“꒰♡꒱, stop and take a breath,” eren’s well aware of how you get when you’re stressed out, actions turning frantic as you rest your forehead against the cold door. “baby, look at me.”

"oh, nah. we a little late for that,” you respond after you turn to face him, shaking your head. “see, you say shit like that because you know how i feel about you. you’re real good at manipulating me. real good. you make me feel like i'm drowning by the weight of my emotions. i hate this, hate this. you make me too vulnerable. and you call me baby? h-how else am i supposed to think?”

“i’m sorry,” his hands go to grab your arms. your body stiffens under his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. you can't help but notice the sincerity in his eyes, the conviction in his tone. part of you wants to believe him, to accept that this is truly all there ever was between you. but the other part, the part that's been carrying a torch for him for years, refuses to let go so easily.

“please believe me when i say that. i never, ever meant to hurt you. and i truly do apologize for not being honest from the beginning. and i will continue to apologize because i genuinely feel bad.”

his voice is softer now, less defensive, more genuine. it's clear that despite his initial reluctance, he does cherish your friendship, and he values your presence in his life. but, you’re still conflicted.

"i — i don't know, eren. i don’t think i can accept that,” you whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the weight of his rejection settles heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

eren hesitates briefly before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. the warmth of his body seeps into yours, providing a comforting counterpoint to the cold reality of the current situation. it stuns you, your body slowly relaxing into his hold, letting the familiar comfort wash over you. he’s laying your head endearingly on his chest, brushing his hand along the back of your head. suddenly, eren slowly pulls from you, his intense stare into your eyes blurring your thoughts, glitching when he tucks a curl behind your ear before inching his face toward yours and shockingly kissing you.

your eyes widen in surprise as his lips press against yours, the suddenness of the gesture leaving you momentarily stunned. but as the sensation registers, your body responds instinctively, melting into the kiss. your hands come up to rest on his chest, fingers digging lightly into his shirt as you return the kiss with equal fervor. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. it's as if the last two months of hurt and confusion have never happened, and you're transported back to a time when the possibility of something more between you seemed within reach.

eren breaks the kiss abruptly, pulling back with a flush on his cheeks. you look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort or regret. but instead, you see something else entirely — desire, longing, and a hint of uncertainty. he swallows hard, opening his mouth to say something, but no words come out. instead, he closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head slightly. "fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t know why i did that,” he mutters, turning away from you.

the air grows even heavier, and you can’t help but to pull him back into your grasp, his heavy hands sitting on your hips he grips roughly to pull you closer. his mouth is back on yours within seconds, widening his jaw to deepen the kiss, your lips smacking and your back suddenly pressing against the wall. as the kiss intensifies, you moan softly, feeling a wave of heat wash over you. your hands slide from his face to his shoulders, holding him tightly.

your hips grind against his, seeking friction, craving the closeness that only he can provide. every inch of your being screams for more, for a deeper connection, for a fulfillment that only he can offer. eren groans into your mouth, his own hands roaming over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a hunger that belies his previous reticence. he presses himself harder against you, his erection throbbing with need. his movements become more deliberate, more urgent, as if he's trying to bridge the gap between you two with every fiber of his being.

“your legs are shaking,” he whispers, now resting a hand on your inner thigh.

you nod shyly, his big hand making you pulsate. you spread your legs wider. “touch me. please."

his tongue swirls around the side of your neck as his breath tickles your skin, making you shiver slightly as he continues the kisses down to your collarbone. then, his hand moves up your thigh more, now moving it’s way under your short black skirt to pull your thong to the side, eyes rolling back into your skull when his fingers make contact with your soaked clit. a simple touch from him easily arousing you.

"talk to me. i need to hear your voice."

eren removes your shirt, needing so badly to feel your skin beneath his burning fingertips. whispering into your ear as he talks you through it, placing his fingers back onto your clit. “you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

“you make me so wet,” you whimper, raising your right thigh to give him further access.

“i bet i do,” your body prickles with fire the moment he takes your neck into his hold to choke you, his brows furrowed as the two of you listen to your sluice clit he rubs circles onto. licking his lips, he spreads your lips apart before sinking his fingers in knuckle deep, the illicit squelch making his dick shift. both of you make the same expression of pleasure, eren moaning from the strong grip your pussy has on his fingers, missing that.

despite the overwhelming pleasure, you manage to stifle your cries, biting your lip to keep silent as eren’s fingers curl inside you, stroking that sweet spot that makes your vision blur and your legs tremble. he removes them momentarily, collecting your juices to rub your hardened clit again. you pull him in to moan into his neck, tugging onto his long hair, eren responding to your silent plea by plunging his long fingers into your dripping cunt.

“mmm, fuck,” your face curls up from the heat swimming in your lower tummy. feeling the way you moan into his neck sends shock waves through his body. the grasp on his hair only makes him apply more pressure to your spot, pushing you further and further.

“look at you taking that shit. you love my fingers?”

you nod drunkenly. "yea, love your fingers."

"you love my fingers, baby?" he hums in your ear condescendingly.

"i love them so much, baby," you whine, unable to control your breath.

“fuck,” eren couldn’t take it anymore, crouching before you to hungrily latch his lips onto your clit. a high-pitched moan flows past your mouth unexpectedly, eren lifting your leg to set it on his shoulder, sucking you into his mouth, and swallowing every drip that leaks from you.

“cover your mouth, pretty. you sound too good. ima bust.” eren’s mouth never leaves your pussy as he speaks, his words muffled by your wetness.

each thrust of his fingers sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, while his tongue works on your clit, coaxing moans and whimpers from your lips. eren’s mouth works tirelessly on your pussy, his tongue lapping rapidly over your clit while his fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. he alternates between long, slow strokes and quick, frantic thrusts, determined to wring every last moan from your lips. his free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as he pulls you even closer, ensuring that not an inch of your body is left untouched by his desire.

your back arches off the wall as the first shockwave of your climax rip through you, your thighs quivering and your pussy spasming around eren’s fingers. he doesn't let up, continuing to lick and suckle your clit through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. as the sensations begin to subside only a little, you slump against the wall, panting heavily. eren reluctantly pulls away, his lips glistening with your juices. he looks up at you with a smirk, his own arousal still evident.

"fuck, you real sweet," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust, standing back on his feet while keeping his fingers inside of you. craving more. "you're making this really difficult for me, ꒰♡꒱.” his breath grows sharper. "you're so loud when you moan for me. tryna make everybody hear you?"

"your voice," you hiccup weakly, speaking the thought aloud, loving how he talks to you.

"you like my voice?" he hums, planting a sloppy, haste kiss amongst your pouty lips you’d bitten red. he raises his brow, repeating himself since you’re so fucked out. “you like my voice, right?"

"yes, daddy," you scream out.

"daddy? that's new," the grin is all too evident. you're too deep in your pleasure to acknowledge the embarrassment. nodding along. not seeming to care that you're barely conscious.

"erennn! m'gonna cum!" you warn, gripping onto his shifting wrist, arching your chest into his.

“gimme that shit then, baby. cum on my fingers like you always do. so goddamn needy.”

uncaring of the people outside of the closet, you whine his name loudly, gyrating your hips into his palm your pussy gushed on. as you struggle to maintain control, your orgasm builds rapidly, coiling tight in your belly before bursting forth in a torrent of ecstasy. gushing on his fingers. eren's eyes go wide, slapping his big hand over your mouth to somewhat muffle your sounds.

"shhh, fuck mamas," he stares at you with desire, keeping his fingers moving. "pussy drippin’ all on me."

you stare at him blissfully, that pretty little head of yours thinking of nothing but how good he just made you feel. how hard he made you cum. even with just his fingers, it felt like nothing you've felt before. dazed, and unable to speak, you reach to unravel the belt on his hips connected to his heaving stomach. you've got him so fucking horny he's not sure if he can stop you right now. no longer giving a fuck who hears. that's their problem. it’s their fault anyways.

"i want it," you give him widened eyes, noticing he left his head for a moment.

"i can't stop once i start, m'telling you that right now,” his breath hitches, following your guide of undoing his jeans.

"i. want. it," you repeat slowly, making it clear.

“mm, that was sexy,” he grins, pecking your lips once more. you giggle when he lifts you up, turning and pulling one of your jackets off a hanger to lay down so you won’t hurt your back, the gesture making you smile stupidly.

"this closet is too fuckin' small, my back hurts," eren complains.

his jeans are clad to his waist, small beauty marks littered around his stomach up to his chest area. v-line sharp and abdomen toned with fairly tanned skin. he exudes masculinity. his pubic hairs are dark, trimmed as usual, and his dick sits heavy on your mound, a pearl of precum forming at the tip just daring to be licked up. your mouth watered every time you observed him. his attractiveness something you’ll never forget. you gasped when he taps your clit with his dick, hearing the two of you connect makes the big man above you groan desperately.

"put it in you," he spanks your inner thigh, holding them up and open for you, his entire body arched dominantly over your small frame. “don't hurt yourself."

“ ‘kay,” you nod shyly, wrapping your palm around his dick, the skin hot and rushing with blood, sucking your pudgy stomach in and lifting your head up some more to see at a better angle. relaxing your hips, you breathe slowly, rubbing his tip up and down your entrance before carefully pulling him into yourself.

“nng,” you whimper, face scrunched up from the pain of the stretch. he’s aware by now of how much time you need to take him fully considering his size.

“breathe, babe. you think too much, that’s why it hurts,” he whispered, kissing your forehead to keep his composure. he’s only halfway in and he feels like he’s close to nutting. “let go, lemme work it in.”

you listen, laying back down fully while eren takes the lead. he’s gently swaying his hips to maneuver his way in, both of you watching it go in and out with fascination. his dick is thick, and it feels like he’s splitting you open every single time. but once he’s inside, you love that feeling of being stuffed, being completely apart of him. his body is now in full contact with your legs, eren hissing, a rumble in his throat borderline feral as he fucks you hard once he’s sure you’re okay.

because you’ve came twice, you already felt sensitive and easy to another orgasm. it didn’t mean to happen so fast, but the moment his pace picks up, his thighs clash heavily against your own as he pressed your tummy down and fucked you deep, and you cum again. squeaking and trembling beneath him, the wet patpat of his dick pounding into you making you both dizzy. eren spews expletives in repetitions silently, watching your eyes go white, pretty individuals wispy on your lash line.

he sees how much effort you're putting in to keep your noises in. “fuck them, lemme hear you.”

now his face is in yours, his moans burning your stomach even worse. it feels like a sickness how much you get off from hearing him, or any sound of weakness he makes.

"god . . eren!" you hiss in pleasure.

the heat was overbearing. the small proximity of the closet mixed with your skin connecting salaciously made you equally sweaty. beads of it sticking to eren's forehead, dampening his brown hair, turning them into curly ringlets. in no time, eren pulls himself out to fist his dick, twisting his wrist as he tugs his orgasm out of himself, cumming on your warm stomach.

“shit, baby. you feel good every fuckin’ time,” he’s leaning in to give you another kiss. he sits up on his knees, dragging your thong completely off to wipe up his mess. “i can give you better. i wasn't done."

you laugh and place your hand on his face, pushing it away with laughter. "move, boy. i need to get out of this damn closet.”

"fine," he rolls his eyes playfully, fixing his pants and standing to his feet. "ima head to the bathroom.”

"hey," you protest with a pout. "come get me, i'm sore. you fucked me into the floor.”

“i put the jacket down,” eren goes to grab for your hand and you make a disgruntled cry.

“pick me up, dummy."

to your luck the door ends up being unlocked now, and that gives you a clear explanation that they were in fact ear hustling. when eren opens the door and you’re huddled behind him shyly, the only person asleep was armin. connie ended up powering on your playstation to play the last of us two while ymir watched in agony over the storyline. the game gets immediately paused when the two of you show your faces. eren’s is stoic as usual, while yours is filled with embarrassment as you hide behind his tall figure.

“i knew y’all were fucking listening, perverts,” eren calls them out, a cocky smirk displayed on his features.

“got a little loud so we needed a distraction,” ymir replied, laughing as she stared at you. “i see you had a good time.”

“not too much,” you warn, rolling your eyes playfully.

“we talked just like y’all wanted. so, thanks for that.”

you pout. “aren't you glad we made up?"

"oh, definitely, for sure," arrogance is laced in his voice, turning back to them. "y’all got to hear us become really good friends, huh?"

there’s that word again. friends. it bothered you again. that uncomfortable feeling in your tummy daring to ruin your mood. so, you brush it off.

"y'all not g’na fight no more? cause i'm sick of it.”

"we found a new way to fight," you break in a joke.

"so remember that shower we need to take?" eren reminds you.

"shower?! aw hell, they locked in."

"bring your ass," eren swats your behind, possessively placing his hand on your hips to tug you along. you stumble next to him with a giggle, tripping over your feet up the stairs as he laughs at you, the two of you rushing towards the bathroom.

this is the first time the two of you ever shared a shower together, talking as normal as you watch each other bathe. eren admires your beauty, having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. a few moments of you swatting them away happening. you knew it was your house, so you could do whatever you wanted. but already having sex with him knowing your friends were mere inches away felt improper. as you lathered your body in soap, he traces your skin tenderly. you look up at him with starry eyes, emotions coming to full conclusion. you might actually love this man. he feels that spark, studying your face like a lovesick boy.

"what?" you ask cluelessly.

"nothing," he swallows, internally punching himself in the face. he's holding back again. unable to understand why. what's he protecting exactly? himself or you? he's unsure.

eren slips his same attire back on while you toss on an oversized nightmare on elm street t-shirt after lathering your body in baby oil. you mentioned to eren that you were hungry, and he offered to drive you anywhere you wanted to feed you. rushing down the steps in a pair, you catch only connie up this time, ymir passed out sleep on your rug flat on her back.

"finished showering?" connie asks, being slick as usual.

"it was sooo fun," you exaggerate, raising your middle finger. "we're getting food. bye!"

"bye!" eren copies with a chirp, mocking your excited wave.

since your apartment resides near the campus, the area you lived had plenty of food joints, some that would stay open later than usual. you decided on denny’s since it was seven in the morning by this point and you didn’t want to eat too heavy knowing you were going straight to sleep once you get back. the line is long and the two of you stand fairly close together. you cling to his side, making the initiative to hold his hand. eren's unsure, again, why he's withholding how he wants to feel. he drops your hand, leaving you to feel awkward and out of place almost. you felt a pang in your chest from the action, taking a deep breath, ignoring it, and waiting to be seated.

the service was pretty quick, ordering what you both wanted which was a stack of pancakes with bacon and home fries and receiving it within ten minutes. he does his best to try and enjoy his food, though his gaze keeps shifting over to you. your mood changed, he obviously noticed since you’ve barely spoken, hiding your face in your phone to avoid conversation. it's bothering him. he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this for the time being. so he decided to eat his food.

"why'd you drop my hand like that?"

he stops eating, looking at you as he sets his fork down. it takes a minute for him to figure out what you’re pressing about before he recalls. “sorry, i just didn't want people thinking the wrong thing."

that takes you aback. what the fuck? “and what would be the wrong thing?" you raise your brow with irritation.

"look, i just don't need people in my business."

"why do you care what people think?" the anger is kicking in. maybe you were overreacting. granted, you two didn't establish your relationship fully. you also didn't think it was a big deal to hold his hand. it's like your confession earlier never happened.

"i don't think it's a big deal. i would rather not have to deal with people asking uncomfortable questions. it'll lead to a lot of unnecessary drama."

"you mean with them bitches you fucked," you retaliate. "because god forbid you have a girlfriend, right?"

"who said you were my girlfriend?" eren asks rather coldly. and that makes you silent. he realizes then how rude that came out. that's not what he meant. "wait, i'm . .”

"basically, to conclude, you don't want to date me. noted."

"i never said that . . .”

"so, what then, eren? am i not good enough for you to show off? you wanna keep me a secret? like some girl you just fuck, who, by the way, you admitted your feelings for. normal people date after shit like that gets said. i don't care what people think about me, that's your problem."

“of course you don’t, there’s nothing to think about when you only spread your legs once a year. you aren’t fucking on people like i am,” he replies, a bit too quickly, a response that is barely thoroughly planned out. he tried to apologize, but the words ended up getting caught in his neck. “i —”

"end of conversation," you snarl. that was so low of him to say.

“i just meant you don’t express yourself sexually like i do. not that it’s a problem, i just have a reputation. i told you i’m not in a place to be what you want right now.”

"i’m doing my best not to punch you in your fuckin’ face right now, so i advise you to be careful what you say next. in fact, don’t say anything at all.”

words aren’t spoken for the majority of your meal after that, unable to finish all of your food since all you wanted to do was go home and cry in your pillow. he keeps toying with your heart again and again. it’s wildly frustrating. he pays the tab and you’re on your way back home, the car ride is silent as well. before you go to exit, he stops you.

"can i say one last thing before you leave?"

you turn to him, dead silent.

"i am sorry for everything i said. you're right, i shouldn't care so much about what other people think. i should've said that from the beginning, and i didn’t mean to call you out like that. that was disrespectful, i admit. i just want us to be like we used to be simply because i hate hurting you. you mean a lot to me. you’re my best friend.”

left stuck, you only say what he wants to hear. "i understand. i just need time to think."

"i understand." he says back, shifting his eyes back towards the steering wheel.

you don't seem as angry as before, mostly because you’ve mentally checked out, so he's not entirely sure what else to say. he just wanted to let you know he meant everything. but, it's far too late for that. he'd said enough a few moments ago. and it's exactly what you needed to hear to realize that he'd never be ready for you. he'd never be mature enough for a relationship. he'd never see you as his first choice. still keeping that childish mentality of fucking girls to get his nut and ruin their hearts. it's enough.

eren goes inside to grab armin and ymir to take them back to the dorm since they drove here together. connie lets himself out, everyone says goodbye, and you close your door without giving eren so much as another look.

𓇼

three months fly by and you two never contacted one another. eren noticed you avoid him on campus whenever you spot him. weeks of eyeing his phone for your text or call. he got the message clear, but it hurt his feelings, possibly on the same level he hurt yours. he stalked your account any chance he got, never missing a story. it was the only access to keeping a piece of you with him. that only lasted a month before you soft-blocked him. making your story unavailable to his eyesight but never having the balls to unfollow . . . just in case. having that small feel of hope that he'd come around and show you that he's everything you want in a man. albeit fairly likely.

all eren can do is go about his life and hope that you’d make the decision to keep him in yours. connie noticed how down eren was today, dragging him to come watch the homecoming football game. he’s dressed depressingly in black sweats with a dark green hoodie, resting his back against the bleachers with his eyes shut, trying to block out the exaggerated screams people made for the team. it’s a big game considering it’s the last before winter break, and it’s home based. eren peaked his eye open to watch connie chow down a hotdog, obnoxiously chewing and catching his irritated glare.

“is it good?” eren bluntly acknowledges.

connie raises his middle finger unspoken, ignoring his moody friend and focusing on the cheerleaders twisting and flipping. “oh, there’s ꒰♡꒱.”

eren shoots up in a flash, the hood over his head hiding most of his gorgeous face. “where?”

eren follows connie’s guide pointing in the direction you stand. and there you were, looking pretty as ever. he swore his heart skipped a beat. gorgeous face with a light beat of makeup, illuminating a soft, dollete glam with pink blush, brown lip liner, gloss, and heavy highlight on your nose and inner corner of your eyes that glowed under the beaming lights from the football field. your hair is straightened, styled in a half up half down with the bun spiked, enhancing your facial features. incredibly cut dark-washed denim shorts hugging your thighs while a baby pink oversized jersey covers your top halve.

eren studies you like a lover does poetry, heart awestruck by your beauty, your aura radiating halfway across the field. god, he misses you so damn much. that daydream lala land in his head comes to an immediate halt when he spots a guy laughing in your face as the two of you bump noses in a disgustingly cute eskimo kiss. the muscles in eren’s jaw shifts, his eyes lowering and darkening as his posture changes. straightening his back and spreading his legs wide before he’s moving his neck and chest forward like a venomous snake, observing your interaction intently.

it’s honestly scary how quickly his anger consumes him, his entire body going up in flames as he stares at the two of you like a giant crow hiding in the trees. his body is solid, barely even breathing as he finds torture in you pouring gatorade into this man’s mouth, his helmet in one hand while the other brushes your hair away from your face, bright white teeth shining as he smiles at you. you use a towel to dab off any excess sweat from his brown skin. then, eren realizes something. he knows this guy.

onyankopon. a quarterback, a valedictorian in high school, and a student in his physics class. eren grows jealous. it was clear to him that you had a thing for him, eren trying to avoid showing any hints of jealousy so connie wouldn't bring it up even if deep down inside, he felt it. eren watches you giggle in onyankopon's face. he's way too close to you. it bothers him beyond comprehension. you and onyankopon have been messing around for the exact time you broke contact with eren. fucking around every now and thence, attending classes, and enjoying your life since it didn’t end when the man you were madly in love with rejected you. you were attracted to him for sure. he made you laugh, cooked for you, taught you how to ride his motorcycle. . a bunch of lovey shit you never felt before. but, your feelings for eren ruined any chance for you to be fully devoted.

it’s hard for eren to even sit through the remainder of this game, barely paying attention to the players and eyeing you almost the entire time. cheering, jumping up and down whenever onyankopon made a move let alone breathed. you’re like a goddamn fan girl. your friends seem to encourage you, purposely pushing you into him at times when he ran back over for your opinion. it’s like he finally exhales when the games over, connie knocking him from his trance of scrutiny.

“yo, let’s go. we gotta party to get to.”

the sigh is loud from eren, exasperated so. “who the fuck said i was up for a party? we have finals in two days. you dragged me from studying for this shitty ass game.”

connie raises his hands in defense. “woah, fucker. you gotta stick up your ass, pull it out.”

“i’m going home.”

as eren begins to rise, connie refuses to move out of his path. “this is about ꒰♡꒱, isn’t it?”

his shoulders raise defensively. “tread lightly, con.”

“save me the bullshit, eren. for once just act like you give a fuck about the girl and go talk to her. this has been a repetition. how are you ever going to solve issues if you’re constantly running from them?”

“she doesn’t want to speak to me. she made that extremely clear.”

“did she say that, or did you just make her feel it?”

eren didn’t have time for confrontation, stretching his leg over the bench to cross over him, walking away. “whatever, man. i’ll see you.”

connie clenched his jaw, scoffing. “see, that’s your damn problem now! you can’t admit when you fuck up. that girl loves you to death and you keep playing in her fucking face! now you’re mad ‘cause you see her with somebody else. that’s bullshit and you know it.”

eren stops in his tracks, and pulls the hood off his head before slowly turning back in his direction. “okay, maybe you’re right. i’m a fuck up. she already made up her mind by ignoring me for three months. i’m not forcing anything.”

“how do you know she’s not waiting for you to step up and finally do the chasing?” connie arches his brow. eren rolls his lips. “you had that girl hoping and waiting for you to finally reciprocate your feelings, and you lead her on back to back. she chased after you while you thought with your dick for other women. i’m sure she’ll be at the party. go find her and talk to her. and if she’s not fuckin’ with it, then you’ll know to really leave it alone. simple as that.”

and that’s how eren ended up at the party. it was packed, obviously. they’d won the big game and chose this celebration as an excuse to get fucked up. connie smoked with eren for a bit before he disappeared to talk to some girl he’d been trying to date. eren's drinking heavy liquor, conversing somewhat with some people he knew to clear his head a little. there’s a few women who try to shoot their shot towards him, but he politely declines. the ‘my girl is here’ line seems to work. speaking of, he can't help but be distracted by you. seeing you dance with your friends, act a fool, and flirt with onyankopon whilst sitting on his lap. it enrages him in a way he can't explain.

not to mention you're wearing his varsity jacket, snuggled into it. this is the last thing eren wanted to find. he wasn't planning on his blood boiling as he stood at the doorway, knocking back the remainder of his hennessy and approaching you the minute he watched onyankopon stick his tongue in your mouth, the two of you lost in each other as you kissed. he doesn’t comprehend his own body movements when he brushes through a sea of people to come your way.

"what the fuck are you doing, ꒰♡꒱?" eren interrupts, glaring at you furiously. he had a right to be mad, right? weren't you the one who ignored him? blocked him? avoided him?

you're stunned to see him, let alone hear what came out of his mouth. "excuse me?" you retort, shellshocked by his behavior.

"some nerve you have to act like i don't fuckin’ exist for three months, then i catch you sitting on somebody's lap like it's nothing," he's being outright rude and blunt, unsure if he's aware of it. could've been the alcohol, or what he's been feeling for months piling up into one bubble. and he finally let it burst.

onyankopon grows irritated by this. not only did he interrupt the two of you, but he was talking out his mouth crazy. "i know you ain't talking to her like that."

"i don't remember stuttering. i'm looking dead at her, aren't i?" eren's stern with his remark.

his statement is senile, your head immediately pounding with a migraine from his stupid ass attack. that's when you get mad. "what? last time we spoke, you told me you didn't want to be with me and only saw me as someone you wanted to fuck on the low. so what the fuck makes you think it's okay to yell in my face about some shit you ended?!"

"oh, he's lost his fuckin mind," onyankopon chuckles sinisterly, not even giving him a chance to reply. shaking his head in a 'this nigga got me fucked up' kinda way. your heart speeds up in panic as onyankopon's hands hold onto either side of your waist before he gently lifts you to stand along with you. "eren, right?"

eren can feel his cheeks burn, the anger intensifying now that he's face to face with onyankopon. your heart is ready to drop out of your chest at the thought of them fighting right now. please, no. "i'm sure you knew that, don't ask stupid questions."

anyone can see the heat building up in onyankopon's eyes, the people in the area whispering to one another while watching. your anxiety is skyrocketing. two big men fighting over you would be hot inside of a novel, yes. but you hated the idea of violence. especially from men. it triggered your flight mode and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball and cover your ears like a scared child. "guys, wait —"

"nah, baby. let him finish," his hand goes up insinuating a pause. "nigga got so much shit to say to you on some pussy shit. be a man and talk to me.”

before you get the chance to say anything, eren’s fist goes flying into onyankopon’s nose, his head aggressively knocking to the side, looking as if it spun off his neck for a moment. "how's that for some pussy shit?"

gasps fill along the room, your hand going to your mouth as you watch onyankopon swing back, connecting his hit back. two of his teammates go to hold him back, knowing this isn’t some shit he needed to get into right now. you take the initiative to grab eren’s attention, knowing it’s dumb to jump between men in rage, but you felt like only you could stop him right now. his face is as red as a tomato, grabbing and tugging at his shirt with all of your strength he’s surprised you can even move him. almost stumbling over from your aggression. onyankopon’s friends drag him away from the situation before it got worse. in the process, he noticed you didn’t look his way not once, not even to check if he was alright.

"eren, chill!" you finally snap. "let's go out back and talk. you're fucking embarrassing me."

everyone watches as you drag him by his shirt like a bad ass child, shoving open the door that lead to the back area of the fraternity house, a few people there but you find a spot under a tree further down the hill. finally letting go, you take a few steps away from him, ready to blow from the anger streaming in your veins. thankfully, the smell from the lake and the wind blowing soothed you in some way. your arms are crossed over your chest, listening to the muffled noise of music booming inside the house and shutting your eyes.

“eren, what are you doing here?”

“connie dragged me here. believe me, i would’ve never come. especially after seeing you two boo’d up at the game. he your man now?”

a sarcastic snort comes from you, twisting your body and looking his way. it’s been months since you’ve made contact with this man, and his aura still pulls you in. you truly despised it. “you need to apologize to him for starting an unnecessary fight. you don’t even know him to be acting like that.”

adding salt to the already open wound, eren responds with a petty shrug and a scoff. “he had that shit coming.”

“wow,” the smile lines around your mouth deepen and your lower lip pokes out as you frown, making an expression of disbelief. "you have a lot of nerve acting like you're my boyfriend when you settled for friendship only. do you not recall? or do i need to refresh your dry ass memory?”

he's bitter about the situation still, that’s clear as day. he also assumed you were okay after the conversation you had in the car that night. but, he was wrong. he remains silent, fearing that his jumbled thoughts would fuck up what he really wanted to say.

"if you couldn't see that i was hurt about what you told me that night, then you truly don't care. i kept my distance because you knew how i felt about you and you chose to be oblivious. i met ony and he made me forget about you. then you break back into my life whenever it's convenient for you. i'm not going to be available for you on your terms."

"so you're using him to get over me?"

"as i'm allowed to because you're not my man!" you narrow your brows. "aren’t you the same one that said i only spread my legs once a year? you’re mad ‘cause it’s not for you anymore, right?”

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”

“me and ony are just friends. whatever we got going on is none of your concern."

"it's my concern if we gonna be together. therefore, he gotta go."

"oh, now you wanna be with me," you scoff. "you're three months — no . . six months late. if you don't recall, you tried this shit before our friends forced us to make up. again, due to your ignorance of my emotions. i shouldn't have to wait for you to decide whether or not i'm worth being in your future. i am not a fantasy! i'm not here for you to fuck when you need to feel something! i deserve someone who's going to love me and give me the romance i crave! you don’t care enough about me no matter what you say.”

tears are welling in your eyes now, and that breaks eren's heart beyond measure. "꒰♡꒱ . . ."

"fuck, i didn't want you to see me cry," you sniffle, wiping your eyes aggressively.

he let the alcohol completely steer him away from his initial goal, and that was to speak to you like connie had got on his ass about. not make you upset. he doesn’t understand why he keeps breaking his promise to stop hurting you.

“i'm horrible when it comes to making any commitments. that, you were right about before,” he states, your eyes drawing back to his. "it wasn't fair of me to invalidate your feelings all those times. i knew you wanted to be with me, i just couldn't bring myself to be honest about what i wanted. more so, i didn't know what i wanted at the time. but being disconnected from you, my best friend . . it hurt my fucking soul."

the oversized varsity jacket clinging to your body brings you comfort, wrapping it tighter around yourself out of anxiousness. the scent of onyankopon’s cologne on the fabric brings you even more sadness. you feel bad for what happened, needing to find him to apologize when you get the chance.

"i have so, so many regrets when it comes to you. so much time wasted, things that could've been avoided had i been mature and upfront. expecting you to be available to me because of our relationship was wrong of me. using you was wrong of me. leading you on, pushing you away, fucking with other girls when you were right here . . it was selfish of me, and i'm a dick for it all, i admit that. and i want nothing more than to apologize and make up for all i've done. you didn't fucking deserve that."

suddenly, he's holding your face in his hands as you weep, both of you unsure of when you broke the distance between you two. "please, please don't cry baby. i'm so sorry."

words could only mean so much. you weren't sold yet. if he wants you for real, he's going to have to make a better offer than just words. false promises were a learned matter with him. he needed to prove how much you mean to him.

"i'll do everything in my power to make sure that i am the man you deserve," he whispers, his hold on your face beginning to tighten as you pull him closer by his shirt out of habit. "promise i'll treat you right. i'll never make you feel like you're someone to fix me when i'm going through shit or i'm horny. i'll never make you feel like you have to compete with other women again. i'll never take you for granted again."

his face is now inches away from yours. his voice, his scent, the warmth he brings, it makes you feel so vulnerable. . . so safe. like that invisible string never broke. eren screaming with hope within, praying you reply. it feels so good to feel your body pressed against his, the scent of your conditioner wafting into his nostrils. he hugs you tightly, afraid that he'll lose you. he's been craving this for so long.

"i missed this. i missed you," he murmurs between your neck, his grasp becoming a little tighter. you feel his chest slowly rising and falling as a soft sigh escapes his lungs. as the silence continues to grow between the two of you, it's becoming harder for you to find the words you want to say to him.

"say what you want to say," it's like he read your mind, swallowing deeply before pulling your face back to eye level. he looks down at you.

"i can’t accept your apology."

eren slowly pulls away from you, a frown on his face and heartache yanking at his chest. it’s his karma, he knew that well. there was no reason to push you into something you no longer wished for. you’d made up your mind, and he just had to live with that. in the future, possibly learning from his mistake. he swallows, nodding as he backs away, accepting your answer indefinitely.

“if that’s how you truly feel, then i will respect your boundaries. i’m truly sorry, again. i hate to leave things behind on a bad note, so i wanna tell you that i pray you find the love you deserve, and that i wish you nothing but the best.”

a final touch of his lips lands on your cheek. eren’s giving you one last smile before turning to walk away. a broken weep cracks from you, lower lip trembling as you hug yourself tightly like he had only seconds ago. he’s halfway gone before you watch him pause, eyes unable to bring them from his figure. you felt like you’d lose the memory of him if you didn’t look. this felt like a horrible breakup neither one of you wanted to end.

eren’s caught reaching into his jean pocket, pulling out his wallet before he approached you once more, the sadness on your face making this worse for him. “i almost forgot.”

out of nowhere, eren grabs your hand, opening your palm and placing a cold object into it. you stare confusingly, leveling your palm towards your face to see a sterling silver necklace. it’s a simple piece of jewelry with a single initial. the letter ‘e’.

"i’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. i carried it with me every day,” he smiles warmly.

a mix of surprise and shock washes over you, your brown eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights, or a girlfriend being proposed to. you stare at the necklace in your palm, feeling the featherweight of it, the cool metal against your skin. memories flood your mind — all those times you shared laughing together, graduating high school, sneaking out to see each other, sharing secrets, dreams, and hopes. this symbol represents all of that, and yet, it also reminds you of the pain, the betrayal, the shattered trust. your gaze flickers up to meet eren's, seeing the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw emotion. part of you still loves him, still wants to believe in him, in your relationship. but the other part is screaming at you to protect yourself, to move on, to forget.

"e as in eren," you gasp, lip still trembling.

"well, yea," he laughs softly. it’s a tangible connection to you, even if things have changed. eren watches your reaction closely, hoping against hope that seeing the necklace might change your mind about him. he swallows hard, his throat tight with emotion. "i was planning on giving it to you when the time was right, even though i wasn’t exactly sure when that would be. i know it's not much, but . . i thought maybe you could keep it as a reminder of our friendship. of everything we shared."

he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. "please, ꒰♡꒱,” he whispers, his voice cracking. "don’t throw it away. keep it close to your heart, and remember that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens between us."

you notice how close he is to you, and you feel a small amount of nervousness start to set in again. but, you don’t let it show in your expressions, focusing instead on trying to hold yourself together. this was a lot. you’ll always cherish the memories you have together, but, was this really goodbye? did you want him to completely disappear from your life? he’s someone who’s been apart of it for so long. you couldn’t imagine life without him. three months was hard enough, even the two before that. you didn’t want him to be a stranger. you didn’t want him to never speak to you again. you didn’t want to sever your relationship entirely — your connection.

“i love you, ꒰♡꒱. i really mean that.”

before he gets the chance to touch you one last time, you're leaning in first, lifting yourself by your tiptoes to press your lips into his. his nose smushed against yours, inhaling sharply as he grabbed your throat, kissing you deeper. as always, you melt into his touch like putty, your entire body bursting with fire when his fingertips brush against your hips under your jersey, pulling you into him harder than he intended. scared to let you go. eren grunts into your mouth when you moan into him, gliding his tongue across yours salaciously, his back arched to bend to your level. another hand huge on the side of your face while he kisses you passionately, turning his head slightly to the side while maintaining his clutch around your throat.

eren gasps into the kiss, the sudden surge of warmth flooding his senses. his mind goes blank as he loses himself in the sensation of your lips against his, your taste filling his mouth. the hand on your hip tightens instinctively, drawing you closer until there's no space left between you. the unexpected kiss throws him off balance, but he doesn't care. all he knows is that he's lost in the moment, the tension between you both finally breaking. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours.

“fuck, i love you,” he repeats again, now applying pressure to your ass he squeezes and lifts, his bulge hitting your stomach. it makes your gut flip when he bites your lip, your hands unknowingly trailing up his abdomen, the bumpy path of his abs giving you flashbacks.

now, he’s kissing along your jawline, down your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your collarbone. his hands are everywhere, roving over your body, caressing and gripping like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against him. his lips move up to your ear where his breath tickles you, your inner thighs locking tight. he murmurs softly into your ear, “i want you . . need you so badly. can i?”

he sounds slightly breathless, his need for you obvious in his low tone. “can i touch you . . please?”

“where’s your car?”

there’s a pause as he registers your question, his mind slightly clouded from the feeling of you against him. “down the street, why?”

“take me.”

“you sure?” he asks. even though the desire for you is written all over his face, there’s a hint of hesitation and question in his tone. he needs to be sure this is something you truly want, even if your body speaks before you do.

“yeah, i’m sure.”

he takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and leads you down the hill to where his car is parked. you’re not sure what time it is, but the streets are nearly empty, only a few people roaming around drinking and smoking, the party is still very much still happening. tucking your hand into your pocket, you drop the necklace safely there, feeling protected and giddy as you trail behind him. his frame is so much bigger than yours, staring at the back of his head where he had his hair half tied up, wanting to bury your face into his back to smell him. you spot his black r34 gtr and within seconds you’re standing in front of it, almost as if you teleported. he must’ve been walking really fast.

he releases your hand to dig for his keys, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side to adjust the seat fully up and make enough room for you both. you’re more at ease knowing his windows were tinted, illegally the blackest of black. with each inhale, he can feel the intensity of the situation starting to build up once again, raising his body only to have you push into him, his body leaning against his car as you squish your lips back into his, growing impatient.

"wait. ." he paused in between kisses, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable as he hissed into your mouth. "backseat, now."

his eyes are trained on your ass as he watches you duck low and climb in the back, practically shoving you inside as he looks over his shoulder before following behind not a moment later. the space is snug, his broad body compared to your own not making the best room, but he’ll make it work. eren pushes you down onto the backseat, covering your body with his own as he resumes kissing you, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your tits. the way the two of you kiss is feverish, open-mouthed with heavy pants of desperation. the way you equally missed each other spoke loudly through it.

“take this shit off, it smells like him,” eren possessively begins to tug at the varsity jacket clinging to you. forgetting you still had it on.

“sorry.”

he tosses it to the front once it’s off, clutching your throat and tugging at your denim shorts with his unoccupied hand. you understand silently, unzipping them and lifting yourself in an awkward way to remove them along with your pale pink new balances. eren has one knee digging into the seat while he balances himself above you by holding the driver's seat headrest, the other foot flat on the floor as he watches you like you’re prey.

“you’re so damn pretty, baby. miss you,” his hands go to smooth over your inner thighs up to your knees, your shirt rising to your midsection.

"mhm, show me how much you missed me," you spread your thighs, pink lace thong swallowing your curves, giving him the obvious hint while balancing yourself on your elbows.

eren’s mouth waters at the sight, your pussy already leaking for him, the material swallowing you up real good. he mutters ‘fuck’ under his breath, wetting his lips and pushing your knees to your chest, cuffing a finger into the band to pull to the side, groaning at the sight of your bare skin, glistening in your slick with your clit hiding between your lips. he knows he just needs to spread them to see her fully, his favorite part. the soft texture of his tongue carefully begins to graze against your skin, sucking and taking in the smell of your body. a surprised squeak escapes your throat as you feel his finger press against your tight entrance.

"no fingers," his dick jumps from the command, moaning as he spanks the outside of your thigh gently while running his tongue over his bottom lip. "just your tongue."

“y’not gonna let me feel her?” eren coed teasingly, whimpering when he smacks you again while leaving a sloppy kiss onto the mound of your pussy. “stretch her out f’this dick?”

you crack a grin, back resting on the door while you scoot your ass further down to grind onto his face. “not yet.”

the sudden sensation of your hands in his hair only fuels eren’s arousal further once you draw him closer, growing needy. his thick tongue slithers out his mouth, pooling with salvia as it laps at your clit with renewed vigor, the taste you leave on his tongue sweet and tangy — intoxicating, driving him wild with lust. it’s so damn good he can’t help but spank the outside of your thigh near your ass, the vibration going straight to your clit and it’s almost like he can feel it when it hits you. moaning into your pussy he gives sloppy kisses while your thighs shake.

“mmm, yesss," you moan in approval, needing him to do it again. until you're bruised.

his face heats up from the noises you make, a reddish tint on his cheekbones as he shifts his jaw to suck your clit into his mouth, slick dousing his chin as he pulls your puffy clit between his lips to tug and release.

"keep going," you arch into him. eren smacks you again, a little harder, and a broken, high pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name.

with a final swipe of his tongue, he feels your body shudder and convulse around him. your cries fill the air as you cum hard, coating his face with your essence. he laps it up greedily, humming and savoring every drop. you didn’t expect to cum that quickly, face heating up from shyness as you cover your face and whine. eren chuckles into your pussy, spluttering as he detaches his lips and buries his face within the curve of your hip bone, unable to stop himself from laughing. it’s silly because this is the second time this has happened. the first being when he ate you out on the hood of his car after getting tipsy during game night. feeling like the alcohol influenced it, but he knows you didn’t drink tonight since he kept an eye on you.

“shut uppp!”

“that literally took a minute!” he’s clutching his stomach now.

“you know i’m sensitive,” you pout, popping him on the arm. “make me cum again. unless you can’t.”

“mhm,” eren nods his head cockily, shocking you when he spanks your clit, scarily switching from playful to dominant. “don’t say that shit when you know it’s wrong.”

eren takes a seat on the opposite side, pulling you to sit on your knees, leaning over him as his eyes lock onto yours filled with a primal hunger. your palming at his thighs still covered in dark jeans, using it to balance your weight as eren stretches his left arm behind you to rub your clit with his fingers, collecting your arousal before sinking his pointer and middle into you. he quickened his pace, pumping his hand faster as he fingers your soppy cunt.

the combination of his hand movements and the sensation of your warm breath on his face sends him spiraling. "fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with effort. “can’t wait to have this pussy on me.”

“eren, touch yourself,” you whine, petting at the shape in his jeans, undoing his button and dragging down his zipper.

eren keens almost submissively, lifting his hips so you can push his jeans down to his knees, eren releasing his hard dick that throbs excessively in his hold. it’s big and pretty, just like you remembered. a dick you’ll never forget for sure. the curve of it makes it touch his stomach, eren rushing his thumb over the tip, wincing from sensitivity and stroking it vertically away from him.

"let me spit on it," you chew at your lips, rocking your ass back into his hand, every touch making you feral, inner thighs soaked.

eren nods with lidded eyes, his breath hitching as he waits for your saliva to coat his slickened fingers. the thought of your spit adding another layer of lubrication to his dick makes him even hotter. gathering your salvia on your tongue, you purse your lips together before spitting onto his dick, a cute ‘puh’ emitting as the two of you watch it trail onto his ring covered fingers, eren groaning and twisting his wrist to spread it along his length.

“just like that," he encourages, his voice barely above a whisper. "stroke your hand over it, baby. c’mon.”

you moan, wrapping your hand over it, piled on top of his own. you suck your lips inwardly, face curled up same as his as the two of you beat his dick, the squelching from both your hands and his fingers in your pussy making you equally dizzy. he hisses while keeping his eyes on your face, just looking at you enough to bring him over the edge.

"more?” you ask, the trail of spit already falling from your mouth before he can respond, eren momentarily removing his hand, dick jumping from the reaction as you fist his dick before he does. his overlapping yours this time.

eren’s response is a strangled cry as he feels the pressure building to a crescendo. your skilled hand working in tandem with his own is too much for him to resist. "yes, fuck yeah," he grits out, his body tensing as he prepares to explode.

"tell me you love me,” you kiss him softly, your tongue exploring his mouth, tasting him.

"f-fuckin' love you, mamas," obediently, eren guides your stroking hand over his near-spent cock, growing sensitive from the erotic intensity. each gentle, wet stroke sends aftershocks rippling through his core, leaving him shuddering and panting.

"one more time, baby.”

"love you, nngh, love you.”

"i love you too."

laying your head on his thigh, he continues to fuck you with his fingers, the squelch of your pussy bouncing off the car windows, continuing their relentless assault. the lewd sounds of your arousal draw him closer to his climax. he can feel your body responding to his touch, your juices coating his digits as he plunges them deeper inside you. with a final, needy thrust of his hips, he unleashes a torrent of cum, coating your joined hands in his hot release.

"that’s it," he whispers huskily, his voice raw with satisfaction. you bring his dick to your face, sticking your tongue out and enclosing your lips around him as you jerk him into your mouth. sucking him off. "ooh, fuck, like that. keep touching me."

“eren . . baby, your fingers are s’long,” a shudder forms, squealing and rocking your ass back harder to meet the quickened pace of him fucking you open. he’s pushing you to the brink.

"think you can cream on ‘em?” he teases, his voice husky with desire. he’s using both hands now, the other hitting your ass hard in repetitions, refusing to stop, the action echoing in the small space. "can you? i wanna see you do it. gimme sum to lick up.”

"f-fuck, y-yess. i can give it to you,” you arch your back. “oh my god.”

encouraged by your eager response, eren doubles his efforts, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot that makes your muscles clench and a pornographic shout break loose, eren drawing out a ‘yeaaa, baby’, fucking you faster, unoccupied fingers sprawled along your plump ass. his voice fucking with you all over again.

“mmm. just cum on ‘em. wanna feel it again,” eren’s grip on your hip tightens as he feels your body tense, grinding his palm against your puffy clit.

your sobs are rewarding, your ass burning from his impacts and you give him what he wants like he asked. creaming over his fingers as you cum for the second time, your tummy caving in as you drool on his leg and prolong a whine. body shaking violently with your legs.

"goddamn. good girl. good girl. you’re so fucking tight," he groans, tasting you off his fingers before going under your stomach to thumb circles on your swollen clit in rhythm with more thrusts. the friction against your clit causes you to scream again, lifting your upper body to distract him by kissing his neck, his ultimate weakness.

“ooh, you bad girl,” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps. your tongue slicks across his throat before leaving hot kisses, climbing onto his lap by balancing your body on your toes, clutching his shoulders for support as you squat above him.

eren knows your intention and follows suit, sliding his back down the seat and spreading his legs further apart. reaching behind himself, he leans slightly forward to pull off his hoodie from his backside, his hair getting fuzzy in the process until you smooth it back in place. eren’s hands slide underneath your hot thighs, hooks his arms under your knees, and spread your legs wider apart to accommodate the thickness of his dick as he finally pushes into you.

“oooh, fuck,” the two of you moan in unison, jaws agape with heavy pants.

the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the car, a symphony of raw, animalistic passion. and just like that, he surrenders to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. he loses himself in the moment, pace frenzied, focusing solely on how good it feels to be buried deep inside you after so long, trying to milk him for everything he's got. you arch into him, that warm feeling coursing through your heart that you haven’t felt since that night in the closet. that feel of worship. eren spanks you again, a little harder and a broken, high-pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name.

he steadily lifts you up and down onto his dick as you switch your hips to ride him. the view from below is turning him on — tits bouncing with each movement, your face contorted in pleasure. he raises his hips to meet your downward motion with equal force, driving himself to the depth with each bounce. skin slapping mingling with your moans, pushing you down with the fingers sprawled across your backside, pussy swallowing all of him.

“you’re doing so well, baby," he praises, his voice a soothing murmur. "just breathe through it." as he inches farther, he captures your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the embrace.

"bite me, please,” you whimper desperately, knocking your head back to expose your neck. "need it."

eren’s eyes gleam with wicked intent, not hesitating to bite into you, knowing how much you have a kink for it. you shriek when his teeth sink into your soft flesh, the steady pressure of them is a mind fuck. the bite is firm yet gentle enough not to hurt you. the sharp pain quickly being replaced by an intoxicating rush of pleasure, sending jolts of arousal coursing through your veins. his tongue laves at the spot after letting go, soothing it with languid strokes while his other hand roams over your body, tracing patterns across your curves.

"you are mine," he swats your ass, pounding faster. "you will always be mine. and you will never run from that."

you shake your head drunkenly, pupils rolling white, lashes fluttering. "won't run, promise rennie!”

"you belong to me,” he says once more, wanting you to repeat. eren’s words are punctuated by another slap of his hand, and by this point you’re sure you’re bruised, each strike a claim of ownership. your knees buckle beneath you, but he holds you up, his strong arms locked around you like a demon in heat.

"i belong to you, baby.”

he increases the speed and intensity of his movements, driving you towards the precipice of ecstasy. you're dripping wet and moaning, your slick coating his cock as he pounds into you. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck while he slams you down. eren’s hands roam over your curves, spreading your cheeks apart as he pulls you down onto his dick with fervor. each thrust is deeper, harder, driven by a primal urge to claim you utterly.

“fuck, mng. g’na . . cum,” you blubber, biting your bottom lip as he pounds into you.

“look at me, i wanna see your face when i make you cum,” he orders, his voice raw with desire.

giving him your attention, you struggle to fully keep them open, every vigorous yank and thrust coaxing that bubbly feeling in your gut. he can feel your walls tightening around him, signaling your impending orgasm. "that’s it, baby," he coos, nibbling on your earlobe. "give it to me. gimme that shit. lemme feel it.”

he shifts his position slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot within you that makes your toes curl and your walls clench even tighter around him. the new angle allows him to hit even harder, stroking along your inner walls with each upward thrust.

"take. it. all. baby," he growls between pauses, his breath hot against your ear. when you finally topple over the edge, he swallows your cries with a searing kiss, his own body trembling with unspent need.

"꒰♡꒱ . . fuck," eren pants, his forehead pressed against yours as he loses himself in the rhythm of your joining, stilling his trembling hips and cumming inside of you, having no strength to pull out. he knows you’re on birth control so he didn’t have to worry.

"oh my fuckin' god," the delicious shiver coursing through your body felt like the ultimate high. brushing your fingers through the strands of his brown hair that had long fallen from it's hair tie. he leans into your soothing ministrations, savoring the intimate connection between you as he slowly comes back down to earth.

you sit like this for a while, eren going soft and lifting you off of him to properly sit you on his lap after dressing himself and you. your legs rest over his while he presses his forehead to yours, still trying to regain his energy.

“oh, i forgot,” you opened your eyes after intimate slow breathing, reaching to the front to search for onyankopon's jacket. you dig into the pocket to retrieve the necklace he’d given you. “put it on me?”

“of course,” taking the necklace from your hand, he brushed your hair from your shoulders and carefully fastened it around your neck. "you look beautiful," he whispered, his voice tinged with genuine affection.

“thank you,” you smile sweetly, playing with the jewelry. “i love it.”

“i always knew you would.”

silence overtakes you for a moment, sitting on your thoughts unwarranted. too much happened today, and your brain was swarming with panic trying to figure out what right move to make. you were tired of overthinking. you just wanted to live in the moment. consequences will come later. what's meant to be will be.

“promise you’ll keep your word this time. no more fights, no more misunderstandings, or playing with my heart. i don’t think i can take another heartbreak. i’ll die.”

sincere contrition casts eren’s expression from your words, gnawing at him all over. eren pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. despite the weight of what's happened between you, despite the pain and hurt, there's an unspoken understanding that you're both willing to move past it.

"i swear on my life i’ll never hurt you like that again. i know i’ve got a lot to make up for, but you mean everything to me,” he murmurs, nuzzling your neck gently. "i love you too much. i’m never taking that for granted.”

tears well up in your eyes as you stare at eren, searching for any sign of deception. but all you see is sincerity, a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. you nod slowly, trying to hold back the flood of tears.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “i forgive you.”

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cvpidzcvrse · 5 months ago

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𝔄𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔉'𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩?

MDNI, skadaddle nigga

✦A/N: i swear i try to post more but like but sitting on my ass is just rlly fun to do. BUT OFC I CANT BE GONE FOR LONGG!! also i didn’t proofread so ignore typos. here’s an ony fic that i pushed out my pussy bc i’m hot like that. ENJOY!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You and ony have been fwb for a few months now. On a strict “no emotions involved” type of situation. But he can’t help it if he gets jealous when you start talking to someone else. Your famous last words? "Make me, nigga."

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Wc: 2,233

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Warnings: Mdom, argument, jealous ony, degradation, light choking, oral male!receiving, manhandling, spanking, face fucking, orgasm denial, fingering, very little praise, he’s mean asf, p in v, and finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(reader is black)

You and Onyankapon have been friends with benefits for a couple of months now. It all started because you wanted to lose your virginity badly. You were gnawing at the bars of your enclosure, being that dick hungry you put pornstars to shame. But you didn’t want to lose something so special to someone you barely knew. So you went down a line of people you knew, most of them you immediately shot down. Connie was a whore, Armin had a girlfriend, Jean is…Jean, so what was left was your best friend. He took the opportunity and ran with it, now you guys fuck at least twice a week.

Ony made the sex strictly just sex, with no relationship or strings attached. Just adults blowing off steam almost every weekend. He said it was ok to talk to other people, that’s where Eren comes in. You met him through Armin 2 weeks ago and you guys haven't stopped talking since. Even now, you’re at Ony’s house watching a movie but you can’t separate your eyes from your screen. He invited you over with the notion of just “watching a movie” but he just wanted to fuck, and you knew that.

“Me Personally, I’d definitely survive in the quiet place. Like all you have to do is be quiet, it’s easy.”

You nod your head slowly, paying no attention to Ony’s statement. Your fingers are flying across your phone, you’re having a deep conversation with Eren. Ony looks over at you and rolls his eyes, you can feel his attitude radiating off of him and steam coming out of his ears.

“My nigga, you’re not even listening to me,”

“First, I’m not ‘your nigga’. Secondly, I am listening…”

You trail off after hearing your phone go off with a ding. You snatch your phone out of your lap quickly and start typing away. He gives you the most crazed look he can muster.

“Nigga, are you f’real?”

You look over at Ony’s reaction and the fact that he’s acting like such a drama queen right now. There’s no way he’s hurt by the fact that you’re talking to other people. He’s the one who made the rules in the first place, so why does he care who you talk to? He’s starting to regret his rule-making skills. Your flawless brown skin-pops with your white hoodie and sweatpants to match. Even before y’all started hooking up he thought you were the most beautiful person ever.

“Damn, what the fuck are you talking about? Are you good?”

You frowned at his outburst, confused by the sudden change in tone. You finally put your phone to the side and put your attention on Ony.

“You’ve been on your phone this whole fucking time. Paying absolutely no attention to me or the movie. Who are you even texting?”

“No One-”

Ding..

Ony groans before snatching your phone out of your lap and softly pushing you back from getting it. You get up from your position on the couch and start reaching over his head but his grip on your wrist won’t budge.

“Let’s see who you’re so fucking focused on…”

He looks at the screen and goes silent before turning his head at you. You’re standing there with an overly irked look, hands on your hips, and eyeing him up and down.

“...Eren!? Eren fucking Jeager!? Don’t tell me you’re actually talking to that sorry ass nigga?’

You roll your eyes at his possessiveness. There’s no reason why he should be concerned about who you text and who you decide to mingle with. It’s your pussy and can determine who it wants, right?

“It’s not something you should be concerned about. Shit, just give me the dick so I can leave, that’s why you called me over right?”

His eyes go wide at your boldness. He can’t tell if you’re upset or just trying to rile him up—either way, it’s making him go insane.

“Take that bass out yo’ voice mama. I’m looking out for you, Eren isn’t the type you want. Stop talking to that nigga”

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue showing clear signs of irritation. His baritone voice sends chills down your spine. Even when he’s irritated he still looks handsome, the warning look in his eyes makes your pussy clench.

“Who are you talking to right now? I ain’t gotta do shit, f’real. I’m not gonna let some Chiptole bag-tatted ass nigga tell me what the fuck to do.”

Ony’s eyes are bulging out of his head and the vein on his forehead is starting to grow. He isn't fond of your attitude, he snatched you up multiple times because of it. He slowly gets up from his spot on the couch, now looking down at you with a dark look in his eye.

“Watch your tone…”

He says eerily calm, his low voice coming out as silk to your ears. It’s like he’s talking directly to your pussy and she’s listening to every word he’s saying. Instead of standing down like he said you decide to stand on business, which is one mistake amongst many.

“Make me, nigga..”

You scuffed and rolled your eyes. That statement alone made Ony let out a rich chuckle, his face displaying a cheeky smirk. Before you even have time to gauge his actions you feel his callous hand wrap around your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Make you what? Say it again..”

He whispers seductively in your ear. You turn away from him before he roughly drags your face back to his. You shake your head not wanting to even breathe, You started this mess now he has to finish it.

“The cock slut doesn’t wanna speak, huh? Take off your clothes since you want my dick so badly.”

The tent in his pants is now noticeable. He lets go of your neck and sits back down on the couch. You start untying your sweatpants, then slowly taking over your panties, followed by your hoodie and bra. Now you’re standing in front of him, all dignity stripped away with your clothes.

“Get on your knees and suck this dick, I’ll show you exactly how to watch that mouth one of yours.”

You nod before sitting in front of him unbuckling his belt. You slide down his pants to reveal his bulging cock through his underwear. You slowly pull down his underwear, earning a scuff from Ony. He pushes your hand away and pulls his cock out himself. His leaking mushroom tip was just inches away from your face.

“Open your mouth.”

His passionless voice makes your clit throb and your stomach drop. He’s giving you no mercy tonight and you know that. You open your mouth wide as directed and impatiently wait for his next. He chuckles at how pitiful you look at this moment, taking a mental snapshot in his head. You’re waiting for his next command, your hand in between your thighs as you subtly grind on your hand for some type of friction. He grabs the base of his cock and slaps the tip on your tongue.

“You like this shit, don’t you? Go on, suck it.”

You wrap your plump lips around his big cock, bobbing your head slowly. You trace circles around his tip with your tongue. He lets out a string of groans, feeling your warm mouth wrapped around his cock. He grabs the back of your neck and pushes you down on his cock roughly. You gag when his cock grazes the back of your throat with force. Tears swell in your eyes as he fucks your face senselessly. The vibrations of your moans drive him crazy, your muffled moans and tears send him over the edge.

“Mhm…Swallow this cock—fuck”

His head lays on the couch cushion behind him. His hand travels from your neck to the back of your head, gripping your hair harshly. Your faux locs are now scrunched up in his hand. He starts pushing your head down rougher as his pace starts getting sloppy. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and hot tears flow down your face.

“Fuck–I’m about to cum. Make me cum, slut.”

You moan at his command, your fingers travel down to your soaked pussy, and start massaging your aching clit. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head at his messy tempo pushing him closer and closer to his climax. White ropes shoot down your throat, and the warm thick substance slides your throat. His dick flops out your mouth with a ‘pop’. You rub fast circles on your clit wanting to cum as hard as he did. Right before you make it you feel Ony grab your wrist, halting any movement.

“Who said you could touch yourself? Get up…”

You pout at your ruined orgasm. You get up before he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap. Your ass grazes his cock and your back is to his chest. He spreads your legs and hands as he traces small circles on your clit. Your head falls back in satisfaction, he smoothly inserts two of his long fingers inside your damp cunt. You grab his arm roughly, leaving dark nail marks on his tatted skin. His finger moves in and out of you with wet sounds accompanying it.

“F…fuck…right there..”

You whine into his neck when you feel his pace quicken. He’s knuckles deep inside of you, the speed of his strokes increasing by the second. He chuckles at the sight, you’re drooling, your eyes screwed shut, and pornographic moans flooding the living room.

He groans as you squirm in his lap, your bare ass rubbing against his hard cock. He uses his other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your grip tightens on his arm, your nail prints getting deeper every time he picks up his pace. His fingers plunging into your cunt with such speed and aggression brings you closer to your orgasm.

“F—Fuck…s…slow down…I’m about…to—”

Ony chuckles before pausing his movement. He removes his fingers from your sloppy pussy and trails his hand over to your ass and gives it a small squeeze.

“Only good girls get to cum. C’mon, face down ass up. Right now.”

You whine at the absence of friction and he gives your ass a hard ‘Smack’ in response. He tossed you over to the other side of the couch before turning you on your stomach. He slides his cock on your warm slit, teasing your greedy pussy. He gives your ass a sharp slap before plunging his cock into your pussy without warning.

You let out a porno-worthy moan and grab one of the couch cushions for stability. Ony quickly picks up the pace, abusing your cervix with every stroke. He gives your ass a couple of harsh slaps before grabbing the back of your neck and pushing your face into the couch cushion. The living room is overflowing with moans, grunts, and the sound of your sopping wet pussy. You put your hand back to stop Ony’s forceful thrust.

“S—Shit…slo—ow…down…fuck”

“Nah, Take this shit…Fuck, you’re such a slut.”

Ony slaps your hand away before placing both of his hands on your hips, pulling you deeper into every thrust. You stifle your moans with your both as the bully of your pussy continues.

‘Ding’

You hear him groan as his strokes cease. He grabs your phone from the other side of the couch before scoffing at the name.

“What the fuck does this lame ass nigga want?... Hold on.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, his cock going at a slower pace than before. You let out a few whimpers that earn you a harsh slap on your already stinging ass.

“Hush…”

His monotone voice sends chills down your spine. You have no clue what's going on behind you until you notice the shadow of your silhouette on the neighboring wall.

‘Is that a flashlight? Wait…is he recording?’

Before you can confirm your answer he goes back to abusing your pussy. You muffle a moan with the pillow in front of you. He presses your body against the couch, the only thing talking is the wetness of your pussy.

“Shit…She’s talking to me, mama. C’mon, tell him who this pussy belongs to.”

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out but slutty moans. He gives your ass a hard smack, placing his free hand on your lower back.

“Y-You! F—Fuck!... You do! You own this…mmph…slutty pussy!”

You choke out, completely cock drunk. You hear him chuckle and groan. You pussy turning him into a mess also. His strokes begin to get messy and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

“Shit mama…cum on my cock baby .”

He reaches his free hand around to trace circles on your clit. Almost like clockwork, you leave your juices all over his cock and coat his shaft in a slippery mess. You feel his tip hit your G-spot a few more times before you feel his warm and sticky cum engulf your inside. His cock is covered in both of your juices, a ring of the mix at the base of his cock.

Your brain is fogged with lust, you can barely think right now. All you can see are stars and darkness before finally feeling him pull out.

“Did my dick feel good?”

“Mhm…”

“You’re my slut, right?”

“Mhm…”

“Thank you, mama."

[Sent: 1 Attachment.]

#x black fem reader #x black reader #x black y/n #x fem!reader #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #aot x reader #ony x black reader #ony x y/n #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankapon #onyankopon smut

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morgluvsconnie · 1 month ago

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armin being overly protective of you,

around his friends and your friends, it really doesn’t matter, he’s overprotective.

walking at the store together, you’re always always in front of him, and if not, right beside him holding his hand.

he knows the sidewalk rule, no matter where you two are, he always makes sure you’re on the safest side. and dare a man stare at you.

“problem?” you’d hear his voice from behind you, grabbing meat from the freezer. “hm?” you hummed softly, looking close at the food you picked up.

“‘scuse me?” you heard another voice.

“you lookin at my girlfriend. you got a problem?” armin questioned whatever man he was talking to.

finally taking your eyes off of the meat and tossing it in the cart, you pat arms chest, “okay, come on, he’s just looking.”

and you’d have to do exactly that. multiple times out of the week.

armin always said it was because you were “too sexy” or “a sight for sore eyes and stuff” and what could you say? you were. but you’d have to remind him, “armin, girls look at you all the time, and i don’t say a thing.”

“okay that’s you.” he’d look away to avoid further conversation, when equaled up to avoiding being wrong.

gas stations, you always had to go inside with him, or facetime him while he walked in the station to pay for gas.

he just had to keep his eyes on you at all times.

“you don’t know what people got goin around here.” he squinted through the window of the drivers side. you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

it was the same for when you were home by yourself, he’d text you every 10-15 minutes to make sure you’re okay.

and a nap? that isn’t an option unless you’re on the phone with him. with the camera on you, just to make sure nothing happens.

armin, it’s just a nap.

call me

why do u gotta be like… this?🤦🏾‍♀️

loving? caring? ik, now call me be4 i get mad.

smoking blunts? you couldn’t hit it until he did twice, just to make sure it’s safe.

getting sick around him? that would be the end of going out, because “you ain’t gon do nothing but get worse, so you might as well stay with me.”

drinking? he had to try it first, even if he hated it.

at the club? don’t even get him started. watching your cup at all times, watching you at all times. and if you had to pee?

“you sure you wanna go in there by yourself? you don’t know who in there.”

like i said, daily routine, if not weekly.

but simply,

he does it out of love because “i care about you, duh.”

first day out, hi, this might be trash ✊🏾🥹 spare me.

#𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚕𝚞𝚟𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎₊✩ˎˊ˗#armin x y/n #armin arlet x reader #armin arlet headcanons #armin x you #armin fluff #armin headcanons #aot armin #armin x reader #armin aot #armin arlert

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mommypieck · 1 year ago

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mommypieck's kinktober 2023 .°୭̥ ୨୧

day 1: first time with jean ✯⁠ cherry pop!!!

day 3: anal with armin ✯⁠ dirty slut!!!

day 5: age gap with nanami ✯⁠ my daddy!!!

day 7: face sitting with suguru ✯⁠ juicy!!!

day 9: crying with eren ✯⁠ oh so messy!!!

day 11: mommy kink with satoru ✯⁠ needy boy!!!

day 13: mutual masturbation with yuuji ✯⁠ touch me please!!!

day 15: on cam with bertholdt ✯⁠ watch my cunt!!!

day 17: cow hybrid with geto ✯⁠ fill me up with milk!!!

day 19: cuckholding with connie (ft onyankopon) ✯⁠ best friend's dick!!!

day 20: threesome with gojo and geto ✯⁠ porn star fucking!!!

day 21:toys with yuuta ✯⁠ dick isn't enough!!!

day 23: being loud with erwin ✯⁠ moan my name!!!

day 24: pegging with nanami ✯⁠ daddy turns into my toy!!!

day 25: sensory deprivation with choso ✯⁠ pussy delivery for you!!!

day 26: size kink with inumaki ✯⁠ so mean and rough!!!

day 27: stripping with levi ✯⁠ you pervert!!!

day 29: on a phone with yuuji ✯⁠ *y/n attached 1 photo*!!!

day 30: panties with megumi ✯⁠ sniff sniff!!!

day 31: glory hole with eren & jean ✯⁠ who's pussy is this!!!

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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luvfy0dor · 4 months ago

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Bites or Hickeys? Various x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; suggestive, obv biting, hickeys, perhaps ooc,

Fandoms; Bungo Stray Dogs, Death Note, Attack on Titan, Obey Me

A/n; ogs remember when I was purple, but anyways happy 1 year of writing to me!! I'm super proud of my account and I'm so insanely thankful for all the love I've received and acquaintances/friends I've made. Thank you guys so much <3 even tho there have been times where I really thought I'd quit, I kept going and I'm so grateful I did

Bites ★

The feeling of their teeth sinking into your skin makes them feel almost electric, as if a spark has been lit inside their chest and cause an explosion of carnal desire. Some are softer with it, kissing and licking over the imprints of their teeth to soothe the mild pain it might have caused, but others just bite and move on to the next unoccupied spot. They can't help how desperate they are for you and to prove to themselves that they have you, and their affectionate gestures prove that theyre yours. After all, they'd never do the same for anyone else. Ofcourse after the heat of the moment died down, whether they were gentler or rougher earlier, they'd kiss over the indents and whisper soft praises and murmurs about whatever came to mind. Moments like those were their favorites- second to the actual rendezvous, ofcourse.

• RANPO, Dazai, Akutagwa, Kaji, Twain, Sasha, Zeke, Pieck, MELLO, Belphie, Satan, Leviathan

Hickeys ★

They prefer giving hickeys, sometimes because they think it's classier than biting, and others because they don't want to hurt you by biting too hard. They will, however, make you look just as ravaged, littering your pretty skin with dark, organically shaped marks. Their hands pin your wrists above your head while they suck and lick at your neck, humming as if they were enjoying a meal made by a world-class chef. Their eyes would flicker up to meet yours every now and again, lips curling upwards as they shove one of their knees between yours, allowing you to grind against their thigh while they make quick work of undoing your top and belt. They're far more shameless when they're leaving them along your thighs, so shameless that you almost look like you were bruised- no one was going to see them anyways, so why should they be modest? They'd be lying if they said being able to claim you in such a way didnt turn them on. ♡⁠˖

• fyodor, Sigma, Kunikida, Ango, Mori, Fitzgerald, Fukuzawa, Margaret, Poe, Erwin, Mikasa, Reiner, Historia, Lucifer

Both! ★

They simply can't choose, whether adorning your neck and thighs in dark, dotted half-moons or burgundy splotches, they can't get enough of you. They usually leave them in concealed places, but sometimes it's so difficult to not mark you up all over, especially when you're writhing underneath them and clinging to them like a vice because their lips and mouth just feel that good. You'd intertwines your fingers in their hair, pulling them closer or tugging them away when you're lying breathlessly in the wrinkled and messy sheets. They'd ask you if it's too much, rubbing circles into the sides of your hips with a wide, cheeky grin. God, you looked so good underneath them, all bashful and shy with your eyes half lidded and your lips slightly agape. Your labored breaths and quiet sighs were like music to their ears, so really, how could they choose just one when they could give you both and double the fun? ♡⁠˖

• NIKOLAI, Chuuya, yosano, bram, Oda, Atsushi, Lucy, Mushitaro, Tecchou, Tachihara, Eren, jean, Connie, Armin, Hange, maybeee levi, Ymir, Matt, Matsuda, Misa, im torn between both and neither for L, Mammon, Asmo, Beel

Neither ★

They prefer not to leave a physical mark on you, but rather give you a good time to remember them by. A mark will fade quicker than a memory. ♡⁠˖

• Nathaniel Hawthorne, Light, Jouno

A/n: hey chat I didn't realize today was my anniversary so I kinda speedran the characters, it might not be SUIUUPER in character so I'm sorry 😞

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splaede · 9 months ago

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AFTER DARK. Armin Arlert (CH. 6) (18+)

☰ pairings: Armin x Reader, Slight Eren x Reader

┌─ ✮⭒｡ story summary: Armin was tired of being seen as an innocent, goody-two-shoes, little flower boy. Instead, he wanted to be seen in a more romantic and…sexual light. You just couldn’t turn down a sweet boy like him, so you agreed to hone his charms and teach him special…skills.

And he turned out to be much more powerful (and hotter) than you'd ever expected.

└─ ✩⭒｡ story #tags: fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, friends w benefits, drama, jealousy, hurt/comfort, manipulative armin, virgin armin, loss of virginity, childhood friends, lots of tension, nerd armin, and then he glows up, love triangles, unrequited love, gaslighting, lots of buildup

☰ CHAPTER SIX. armin's first

┌─ ✮⭒｡ chapter summary: Things get heated. Things get so, so heated.

└─ ✩⭒｡ chapter warnings: smut (p in v sex, fingering), fem bodied reader, loss of virginity, petting, literally most of this is foreplay

wc: 9.7k

☰ table of contents | previous chapter | next chapter

In the dim of your living room, your eyes could only see him. And right here, on the plush of your couch, your body only knew his.

Armin held you, secured you, and grounded you, strong arms snaked around your waist as you became all too aware of your intermingling bodies. The squish of your thighs against his, the unashamed press of your tits against his chest, the weight of his breaths against your lips…

You could still feel the tingle on your lips where he’d last kissed you, a ghost of his touch.

Above you, the clock ticked louder and louder in your ears, louder than the blood that rushed to muffle your hearing and the pounding of your pulse, a looming reminder that it was late. That you had work in the morning. That you were running out of time.

That you shouldn’t be doing this.

Another sound intruded on you. A voice, his voice, running rampant in the back of your head.

Will your roommate be home soon?

The fact that he’d asked that question…just what did he want?

And on top of that, you had already confirmed that, no, your roommate wasn’t going to be home any time soon. In fact, she wasn’t going to be home at all, meaning you’d have the entire night with him alone, undisturbed.

Sitting here, Armin quietly eyed you, curious and content yet half-lidded and torn by lust. He suddenly silenced your thoughts with a kiss, swooping in hard, teeth clashing, causing you to instinctively grab his face to ease him down.

The kiss oozed of messiness, an exchange of saliva and wet, meshed-together lips that barely held any rhythm. The feeling consumed you fully—the warmth and fervent press of his lips—as you slowly guided him.

Lost in the intensity, you instinctively swiped your tongue against his bottom lip. He jolted, pulling away.

You thought that was so cute of him, seeing him like this. So ironically innocent.

“S—sorry,” he stuttered out, a bashful look on his face.

Your brows furrowed, worried that you had done something wrong. “Did I go too far?”

“No, it’s just….” He tightened his grip on your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “God, I’m so nervous.”

Squeezing your hands on his shoulders, you reassured him, “It’s okay. We can go slow.”

“Okay.”

Armin smiled up at you, so sweetly and boyishly—so contradictory to the thoughts you’d been having about him. But even so, he was still nothing like the little boy you’d known. Not when he was gazing at you with that blush, reddened and far-gone, and that glint of lust—that hunger—in his eyes.

You still couldn’t believe he was here with you. If you’d known you’d be kissing your childhood friend ten years down the line, you’d probably flip out in disbelief.

But he’d matured so much from then. That boy was nothing like the man under you, holding onto you. Nothing like how tempting and alluring and irresistible he looked right now.

His palms flexed around your waist, once, then twice, then dragged up the sides of your torso, slowly, almost mindlessly, then back down. Pressed up like this, chest-to-chest, you could feel the racing of his heart so hard that you felt yourself rattling. And even though his hands had stopped shaking, the fast, repetitive thump inside his chest told you more than anything else ever would.

Sitting in silence, hearts beating out of sync, you let him roam your body like that. Slowly and hesitantly, like he hadn’t quite fully grasped the situation.

"You're a good friend,” he mumbled quietly, no longer meeting your eyes, fixated on where he was touching you instead.

Cheeks heating up at the praise, you shuddered with a laugh that sounded a little too strained and nervous.

You were a good friend? No, he was a good friend. He was the whole reason you wanted to do this in the first place. A good, caring, considerate friend that you would never turn down even if it meant putting your friendship on the line.

“I trust you. I wouldn’t ask anyone else this,” he continued.

Breathing in deep, you cupped his face affectionately. “No, please, you’re so good to me. How can I say no to you?”

His hands stilled, and you could see how his eyes instantly softened. Armin’s right hand fiddled with the hem of your shirt, eyes meeting yours momentarily before darting away.

“Thank you. So…can we keep going?”

Your lips lifted into a small smile, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness. “Yeah, um. Do you…want to try using tongue now?”

As soon as you’d finished that sentence, you fought down the nervous, embarrassed lump that rose to your throat. It couldn’t get any more straightforward than that.

“Yeah,” he replied breathlessly and nodded.

“Slowly, okay? We’re just gonna ease into it. When I lick your lips, open your mouth a little. And then after that, it’s like…” You swallowed, tensing. “Um, I don’t really know how to explain it. Just try to match me.”

He gazed at you with so much anticipation that you could almost taste it. Sliding your hands back onto his shoulders, you latched onto his lips again.

This time, there wasn’t a rush. Just slow, methodical, and relaxed movement as you relished the softness of his lips. You loved this feeling. Soft and sweet, like him.

His hands began roaming your body again, starting from the sides of your chest down to the tops of your thighs. His palms slightly brushed the outer parts of your breasts, but it was still nowhere close to where you really wanted him.

You took this as a cue to mimic him, hands gliding down to his biceps where you gave him a light squeeze. Even though you knew he worked out, you were still surprised to feel the dips and tautness of hard muscle. It wasn’t that you forgot, it was that you didn’t normally expect it from Armin, someone usually so nice and mellow.

As you trailed down his stomach, you could feel the defined ridges of his abs under your splayed palms, and you swore you almost moaned. For someone with such a cute face, he had such a strong body.

When your tongue finally soothed over his bottom lip, he parted his lips ever-so-slightly. And the moment you slipped your tongue in, he let out a small noise that was so, so quiet. Your tongues met, warm and wet.

You could tell he was hesitant, but you continued at the same pace, slowly licking into him and swiping your tongue over his. He’d completely stilled, hands etching themselves harder into your waist. As you were letting yourself taste him, something tugged on your heart, weighing heavy.

Because it dawned on you that you were making out with Armin.

Something so intimate and passionate like this could only be reserved for lovers, not for friends.

Armin reluctantly slipped his hands under your shirt. Just right there, right at the threshold of your torso and not any further, like he was testing the waters. He held you there, only tasting. Your breath hitched, startled by the warmth of his fingers, but the flow of the kiss remained the same.

The pressure of his tongue was soothing as it moved against yours, and he was getting the hang of it little by little. And the moment it seemed to click—where it felt like you’d reached the perfect rhythm and the perfect amount of energy—you moaned into his mouth to let him know he was doing good. Thank God he was a fast learner.

Cradling his neck into your arms and threading your fingers into his hair, you rolled your hips into him experimentally, pelvises meeting. You heard him inhale sharply, but he didn’t break the kiss. He only tightened his hold on you, pushing you down slightly as he rolled his hips, matching you.

The friction felt so undeniably good. You knew he felt good, too, because you could feel the area of his crotch stiffen under you.

It was like that for a while, the two of you grinding on each other, so focused on outdoing the other that the kiss wasn’t even a kiss anymore. Just a mix of messy lips and hitched moans and saliva. So much so that you had to wipe away the drool at the corner of his mouth.

You were the first to pull away for air.

“How was it?” he instantly asked, licking his lips. They were swollen, and that gave you the urge to kiss him again.

“Just a little messy. But good. You did good for your first time.” You laughed.

He laughed with you, bringing a thumb to swipe over the corner of your mouth. “Sorry about that.”

Just like that, the two of you shared a cute moment, and you began to think that nothing would change between you—that you two would still be friends and embrace these moments no matter what.

As the atmosphere from your makeout session died down, you were left with one final thought.

What now?

“Hey…” you started. You didn’t even know how to word this. Do you know where this is going? Do you even want to keep going?

You stood up, all too abruptly like you were running on autopilot as your brain tried to catch up with your body, hands detaching from his neck and thighs from his lap. You looked at him warily, wedged between the coffee table and his parted legs.

Armin frantically stood up, too, half hard in his pants as he reached for your forearm. “Something wrong?”

It was late, you remembered again.

But now, in this lapse of judgment, you guessed it didn't matter if you should or shouldn't continue. Not when he was staring at you, pleading with his eyes—with his body. You could almost hear his heart thumping out of his chest.

You wondered if he could hear yours, too.

“Um,” you trailed off, wondering how to save yourself.

Before you had the chance to recollect your thoughts, Armin cut you off. “Sorry, um. I mean, I know it’s late…if that’s what you were going to say. I should probably go. You did say I should only stay for a little bit—”

“No—wait, no.” You pressed a palm to his chest.

Armin subtly tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you had work in the morning?”

“I know, but...” Your eyes trailed down to his crotch, suddenly guilty. “Do you want to stay?”

He regarded you with a look of uncertainty, hands hovering beside your arms like he was about to hold you. “Yeah…?”

“Then…what do you want to do?” It came out in a slight whisper, and you instantly wanted to slap yourself for that question because, one, it was definitely the wrong question. All you wanted was clarity as to whether he knew where this was going, and two, what did you mean by what he wanted to do?

You could feel his eyes burning into your head, but yours were averted to where the neckline of his tee dipped down to reveal his collarbone.

He gulped. “What do I want to do?” he parroted, breathing in a steady breath. “Um…what do you mean?”

You pursed your lips, knowing you were going to sound desperate. “Was kissing…all you wanted to do?”

He looked visibly taken aback now, lashes fluttering as his eyes flitted over your form in surprise.

“No…”

“Then what?”

Maybe you really were desperate as you stood here so close to him, pushing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache.

“Well, I think—I think you know,” he mumbled shamefully. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Say it. Please? I just want to be sure.”

He pursed his lips, too, while contemplating, flushed a deep pink on his cheeks. “I want us to…go the whole way. I want you.” He cleared his throat. “To teach me.”

For a long moment, you were convinced you stopped breathing.

It was so loud now. Your heartbeat was so unbearably loud, reverberating and bursting through your ears. A breathless silence filled the room.

He didn't waver. Not once. He only gazed straight into your eyes—straight through you, irises deep and blue and overwhelming and darkened by lust. He'd lost that innocent, bright shine long ago.

The beat of your heart only quickened, even quicker than what it already was.

Was this it? Was this the next step? Was this it after all of those needy kisses and flimsy touches and longing, vulnerable stares?

Nevertheless, a sense of relief washed over you. You wanted this, too, despite the fact that you were risking something precious to you. Something irreversible.

Not that'd you stop now.

And then you were onto him, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. He returned it just as quickly, rough and intimate. His hands slid to your waist and held you tight against his body while you clung onto him like it was the end of the world.

Licking his lips teasingly, you murmured in between the kiss, “My room.”

He broke away a little, muttering a little “okay” before you cut him off by pressing your mouth back onto his.

When you pulled away, he surprised you with his next words.

“Can I carry you?”

Without hesitation, you lightly jumped onto him, and he caught you, carrying you effortlessly in his strong arms. You loved the feeling of his hands on the back of your thighs, firm and warm. He was so surprisingly muscly that you wanted to squeal.

The walk wasn’t far in your small apartment space, and you quickly found yourself being placed gingerly onto your bed and your limbs untangling from his body. He stood there like he didn’t quite know what to do. You scooted back onto your pillows, beckoning him to come closer.

“Get on top of me.” You tugged on the front of his tee. “Like this.”

He stumbled onto your bed, settling in between your legs as his hands braced him up. You tugged him even closer still, and he fell to his forearms.

You looked up at him only to find him blushing, a dark, rosy color tinting the apples of his cheeks, watching you with eager eyes as his chest heaved with heavy breaths.

Heat bubbled in your stomach. “Are you sure you want to do this? Remember, this is…this is for you. This is about how you feel.”

“I’m sure,” he answered quickly.

Then, Armin kissed you for the millionth time tonight, but this time, it was short yet thorough, like he just missed your taste.

“Kiss me on my neck,” you urged, craning your head. “Just don’t leave any marks.”

Armin dipped down instantly, but he stilled for the next second, hesitantly staring at your neck. The conviction finally hit him and his lips met your skin, ticklish and titillating and warm. He peppered slow kisses along the juncture of your neck, leaving one long, suckling kiss—one hard enough to make you feel good but soft enough not to leave a mark. You could tell he was unsure about his movements, so you softly grabbed him by the hair to bring him to a specific spot.

“Right—ah—there. Yeah,” you assured him as he gave another suckling kiss.

“Is this good?” he asked timidly into your skin, and you could feel the tickle of where his lips moved.

You hummed in response. “It’s good. You’re doing good,” you replied, words tumbling out of your mouth in an awkward way.

He pulled away, and his eyes raked over your form, suddenly stopping at your chest. While you should’ve been excited, something else happened. Something like dismay filled his eyes as his brows twitched downwards.

“Is this Eren’s sweater?”

Oh.

“Yeah?” you weakly breathed out, voice pitched a higher octave than you’d like.

His eyes flitted back to your face again, still strewn with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but knew wasn’t good.

“Can I take it off?” he asked, pawing the hem of your sweater. He seemed confident almost, but you knew that the barely discernible, nervous strain in the thrum of his voice gave it all away.

You nodded wordlessly like the air had been punched out of your lungs.

Armin grabbed onto the hem of your sweater with both hands, peeling it off you so slowly that you couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or just simply nervous. Your stomach coiled in anticipation the farther he went, with each inch of skin he revealed. He was so agonizingly slow—or maybe you were so impatient that it felt like time had slowed down—yet the rush of cool air against your torso was instant.

The moment he reached your bra, your heart seemed to beat out of your chest, and you needed to steady your breathing.

He stopped and looked for only a minuscule second, as if he didn’t dare to stare any longer, and picked up the pace, pushing the last of your sweater above your raised arms.

“Pants, too,” you whispered softly.

With shaky hands, Armin obediently worked them off, past the fabric of your panties, all the way down your legs.

He’d seen you in a bikini before, but it was different this time. You were laid out all nicely in front of him, clad in a bra and thin panties. On your bed, for him.

The newfound cold nipped everywhere at your skin, goosebumps prodding up your arms and legs.

“Take my bra off for me.” You said shakily, turning to your side to give him access. “You know how?”

He laughed out what seemed to be a mix of a chuckle and a scoff. “I’m sure it isn’t hard.” His knuckles brushed the skin of your back as he took hold of the straps and unclasped your bra. You could feel his hands shaking against your back. “Easy.”

As he slid it off of you, that heavy feeling in your heart resurfaced, and you began to feel self-conscious.

But it was just Armin, you reminded yourself.

Your upper body was now completely bare to him. The cool of the air swept over your already-hardening nipples.

Armin only stared at you. Didn’t say a word. Just outright ogled you with raw, unfiltered desire in his eyes as his hands twitched where they were resting near his thighs.

You grabbed both of his hands, placing his palms directly on your chest. “C’mon. Touch me.”

Gulping hard, he leaned into you, broad, unpracticed hands cupping your tits, squeezing just once. Then his hands started moving, experimentally pushing and squeezing over the plush of your tits, palms grazing over the peaks of your pebbled nipples.

You clamped your eyes shut, letting yourself go for the moment. It felt so pleasant, just steady friction against your sensitive breasts.

Armin’s hands were soft—that much you already knew—just as everything else was about him. But while his hands were soft and gentle, his gaze was hard. He was so fixed and focused on you, blue eyes practically dripping with unbridled lust.

He cupped your tits again, a soft nudge, then his hands slid down the curve of your waist. You could feel the trail of warmth that his fingers left on your skin. It clung to you even as his hands moved away to rest on your abdomen. His thumbs pressed into your skin so briefly that his touch might’ve been a spasm of a finger as the bottoms of his palms grazed against the hem of your panties.

The warmth followed down the curve of your hips, down your thighs, and down to your knees. You shifted your legs closer to your body, and his hands quickly cupped the underside of your thighs, squeezing once.

You knew this was his first time, so you let him explore your body as your hand came to his cheek to pull him down for another kiss. His tongue prodded at your lips, and you happily welcomed it.

His hands were everywhere now—your thighs, your hips, your waist, your shoulders, your neck, your arms. You could tell he was losing rhythm between keeping up with the kiss and touching you, but you couldn’t care less.

He pulled away first, leaving a string of saliva hanging between your lips.

“Armin, play with my….” The embarrassment hit you again. You didn’t even want to finish your sentence, but luckily, he seemed to understand.

“Oh.” His fingers found your tits again, thumbs swiping over your nipples before he lightly pinched them, tugging them upwards. “Like this?”

You gasped and squirmed. “Yeah. Like that. Just very lightly. Try rolling them between your fingers.”

His thumb and index finger met with your nipples, and he did what you told him, twisting and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

That elicited a little whine from you. “Feels nice.”

Armin continued his ministrations on you as he alternated between tweaking your nipples and groping your tits whole. It was sensual and quiet, save for the sound of your soft moans.

He suddenly sighed, eyes clouded. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered softly and fondly.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you smiled at him and let your cheeks heat up from his compliment. It caught you off guard. Because somehow, in a suggestive moment like this, he managed to make it sweet. Judging from the tone of his voice, you knew it was genuine.

Because he was a genuine guy.

You cupped the back of his head and pushed him toward your chest. “Put your mouth here.”

He doubled back, eyes wide, but didn’t waste another second to envelop his lips onto your chest. He followed your orders so easily—like a dog to its owner—that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the charm of it.

For a second, you wondered if he needed guidance, but when his tongue laved over your breast, you only held his head tighter as your back arched off the bed in pleasure. His eyelids fluttered shut, feathery, blonde lashes resting against his cheekbones. He kissed your nipple just as he kissed you, licking and sucking meticulously and thoroughly.

One of the things that you liked about Armin was that he was such an adaptable learner. Took things he learned and applied them somewhere else. Not that any of this required any big skill, but he just did it so well and so quickly.

You grabbed his hand and brought it to your other nipple, and he quickly understood, playing with you like he did before.

Suddenly, his teeth took hold of your nipple—just a light graze, and you gasped again. You felt the ache between your thighs throb, shamelessly getting wetter. Where did he learn to do that?

“Okay, that’s—that’s good.” You tapped his cheek. “Over here now.”

His mouth unlatched with a pop and he switched to the other breast, repeating the same routine. You felt the remnants of his saliva on your skin mix with the cool air, tingling.

You were sure your panties were drenched now. Sure that the arousal made the fabric stick to you.

Armin pulled away, licking the spit from his lips, and looked right into your eyes. “Was that okay?” he asked innocently.

“Mhm,” you hummed, but you were convinced it came out more as a whine. You clutched a handful of the fabric of his tee. “Off.”

He sat up straighter, surprised but willing. “Off? Okay, okay.” Armin reached behind him to grab the collar of his T-shirt, and in one swift yank, it came off. He threw his shirt on the floor like the rest of your clothes, and you were left to ogle at his body.

Your eyes raked over the smooth planes of his chest, his slim waist, and the hard, toned stomach where your hands had previously felt.

Even at pools and beaches, he opted for T-shirts with his swim trunks. And the last time you’d seen him shirtless, he wasn’t this jacked.

“I never get to see you like this. You’re so—you’re so built.” The fluster was so evident in your voice as you trailed your fingers down his torso.

He shyly laughed, pink on his cheeks. “Thank you.”

“You’re so pretty, Armin.” Before the embarrassment and weight of your compliment caught up to you, you quickly grabbed the hem of his jeans. “Take—take this off, too.”

You eyed the bulge beneath his pants, hard and begging to be freed.

You gulped. Now you two were really getting into it—seeing and doing something so intimate. You had no problem undressing yourself, but when it came to him…

He nodded as his hands fumbled with the button and zipper, thumbs slotted in between his waistband as he shakily pulled them down. You helped him get them off, anticipation and nervousness coursing through your veins.

Once his jeans were off, he seemed even bigger now. You could see the clear outline of his dick straining against his boxers, and it was messing with your head. This was your best friend, for crying out loud. Both of your most intimate places were each just a layer away, just inches away.

“Fuck, I’m so—” His eyes scanned over you, from the eager expression on your face, to your bare tits, and to your legs that were spread to accommodate him. “You don’t know how hard I am right now.”

You gulped again. “Yeah?” you teased, palming him through his boxers.

He sharply inhaled and cursed low under his breath, but before you could go any further, he grabbed your wrist. There was a look of worry on his face—maybe it was desperation, you thought—and you wondered if you did something wrong.

“W—wait. I want to know how to make you feel good.”

Your face morphed into one of surprise. Armin wanted to please you first.

You felt the arousal creeping up on you. Felt it soaking your panties again.

You breathed out slowly, and for a second, the words died on your tongue. He was going to see you fully naked. Only a flimsy piece of fabric away from erasing the line between your friendship and this…whatever this was.

“Yeah, that’s good. Wanting to please your partner first, that is.” You regained your footing. “Help me take them off?” You eyed him innocently and pulled his hands towards your body until his knuckles touched your panties.

He stared for a moment—definitely at the wet, darkened patch over your crotch. Armin finally took hold of the hem of your panties, fingers hot against the skin of your pelvis. Unblinking, he pulled them down gently, agonizingly slow. You could feel your slick sticking to your panties and the fabric grazing your almost quivering thighs. In an instant, cool air rushed to you.

His eyes never left you as he pulled your panties past your knees and ankles, so fixated and eager that he made you nervous. The coil in your stomach returned, tense, like it was moments away from bursting.

You felt like a virgin all over again. You were embarrassed—even though you knew you shouldn’t be because it was just Armin—and on the brink of clamping your legs together, but you couldn’t because his body was right in between you, even closer than you’d noticed before.

“God, you’re so…” Armin gulped. He was quiet, muttering to himself, struggling to find his words, and nervously pushing his hair back. It fell back messily onto his forehead. “What do I…what do I do now?”

Clutching his hand between both of your palms, you shaped his hand into a “thumbs up” sign and brought it to your slit, spreading yourself with one hand. “This is the clit. If you…if you didn’t already know.”

His thumb grazed over your clit, and a twinge of pleasure shot up your lower body.

“I know.”

Armin thumbed your clit some more, swiping circles and pressing down lightly. You could feel yourself get wetter by the second.

“Is this good?” he asked.

“Mhm. A little faster—oh! Yeah, that’s good.” Your hips bucked as he sped up. “You—you could also use your middle and ring finger.”

You demonstrated with your hand, and he quickly followed, pressing his fingers onto you again.

This time, he started off slow and worked his way to match the pace from before.

“A little lower.” And suddenly you were arching off the bed. “Oh! Wait—”

“Am I doing it right?” he interjected, voice shaky. He was watching for your reaction, blue eyes boring into your face.

You nodded as the pleasure spread through your lower body. He wasn’t the best, but he wasn’t bad in the slightest. He made you feel good, nonetheless. The pads of his fingers were warm and smooth, rubbing all the right ways against your clit.

“You wanna move down now?” you asked.

Wordlessly, his eyes flicked down to your entrance, and the urge to clamp your legs shut returned to you again. You were dripping—you had to be, slick with your wetness pooling around your center. He lingered for a second before his attention diverted back onto your face.

“Show me how.” He said, adamant.

“Just know that…” Your fingers ghosted over his knuckles. “You don’t have to necessarily make me cum. This is just to stretch me out. To prep for the real thing.”

He regarded you with a tiny frown and peered at you hungrily through his long lashes. “What if I want to?”

Your heart skipped a beat and your stomach simmered with warmth.

“Well, you can.” You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat, unsure of what to say. Taking his hand in yours, you isolated his middle and ring fingers and held them close to your entrance. As you did so, something tingled and churned inside your stomach. Nervousness, you thought, apprehension, maybe. Not in a bad way, but in the way that every next step with him left you remembering just how private and raw this was.

“Just like that,” you whispered.

With a gulp, his fingers slid into your soaked cunt. You were so wet and tight, and you knew he could feel it. Feel it envelop his finger, warm and so, so slick. You instinctively clamped down on him as he pushed further.

“Oh, God…Y-Y/N,” he all but stuttered out. “Is—is this what it…”

The desperation showed clearly on his face: lips parted, brows knitted, and eyes drooping with lust.

You grabbed his wrist. “K—Keep going.”

His fingers reached their hilt inside of you, and you had to resist squeezing down on him. He felt like no other guy you’d been with. Because he really wasn’t any other guy.

He pulled them out swiftly, fingers and knuckles now tainted with the remnants of you. “What—what else?” he choked out.

The absence of his fingers left you wanting more. With your grip still on his wrist, you tugged his hand closer to your center. “Curl your fingers like this. When you’re inside.” You choked, too, and cleared your throat. “Just keep moving.”

“Like this?” He entered you again, gently, and pressed against a spot inside you that drove your hips to lurch off the bed.

You nodded weakly, whining. “More.” Your hand on his wrist urged him out, pulling backward. Confused, he slightly resisted. But when you pushed him back in, he seemed to understand the hint.

Armin pressed into you, thrusting his fingers in and curling them right at that sweet spot that had you gasping out. He slid in and out so easily, guided by the slickness of your insides, and worked slowly, almost teasingly, but you squeezed his arm, encouraging him.

“Right there,” you gasped out. “You’re doing so good.”

He groaned in response, a borderline moan. “H—Here?” And curled right into your G-spot.

You let out an abrupt gasp, akin to a stuttered breath, hips bucking upwards as pleasure seeped into your insides. His pace was reckless, but the calculated way the pads of his fingers pushed and grazed against your G-spot had your stomach twisting and your heart racing.

Beside you, you noticed his other hand fisting the bedsheets. Reaching out, you put a hand on top of his. “You okay?” you asked breathily.

Armin glanced up at you, eyes blown out, pupils dilated in such a starved, animalistic way that looked so out of character. He surprised you by lacing his fingers between yours.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

It caught you off guard, but you didn’t get to register your shock before you were crying loud with a particularly hard thrust. “Please. Please.” You didn’t know why he was even asking.

Armin’s lips crashed onto yours, capturing you in the most heated kiss of the night. Immediately, he dominated the kiss, all spit and tongue, lips hot and molding together with a firm press. His fingers kept fucking into you relentlessly, filling the room with lewd, wet sounds.

His other hand held yours still, squeezing once before letting go and landing on your waist.

“Just wanna feel you,” he mumbled.

Nodding, you strung your hands through his hair as he caressed your waist and tits. His palms grazed over your nipples, making you shudder and bite back a moan.

The coil inside your stomach winded tight and kept winding tighter and tighter when his fingers hit that spot again. The pleasure swirled through you, wave after wave, your hips lurching off the bed and your hands gripping his hair even tighter.

You moaned into his mouth. “So close.”

He groaned, drawn-out, lips wet with saliva, swallowing the noises that came out of your mouth.

“You’re doing so good,” you praised.

Armin whimpered at that—whimpered—and picked up the pace, faster, harder. It was sloppy, but it wasn’t imprecise. He flicked up into you so perfectly until you were stretched out and dripping, and until it finally snapped.

The coil snapped.

“Armin, I’m—I’m cumming! Don’t stop!”

“Hol—Holy shit, Y/N—”

The coil snapped, and sweet euphoria coursed through you, rushing through you like open floodgates. You gushed onto him in the same way, cunt fluttering against the thickness of his fingers. The feeling hit you like a truck and filled you whole.

“Can’t believe this is happening,” he mumbled under his breath in a desperate whine.

You pulled him into a desperate kiss—or was it that he pushed the kiss onto you?—and he dipped down to embrace you. The twitching weight of his clothed cock brushed against your thigh. It wasn’t intentional—at least you didn’t think, but it only reminded you of what was to come next.

As he slowed down, you felt your cum leaking down his knuckles and onto the bedsheets.

“Was that…good?” Armin timidly asked between heavy breaths. Above you, he panted like a dog, even more than you, pretty pink lips parted as if he was the one being fucked. So cute.

You stayed quiet for a moment, relishing in your subsiding orgasm, fatigued and cozy.

“Mhm. That was amazing. You did amazing for your first time.”

He visibly relaxed, slumped back onto his heels, and sighed. “Really? Th—Thank you.”

Even from above you, he looked submissive, face filled with a desperate need. You giggled at his shyness. The irony of it. “Yes, Armin, you…you just made me cum. That’s…”

Uncertainty weighed down on your tongue. Impressive? Was it really impressive, or should it have been expected from him? A part of you knew that he didn’t need any effort. Not because he was somehow a natural or that he was a fast learner, but that it was him, and that gives your body enough stimulation to push itself off the edge.

Hazy and blinded by your orgasm and the strong presence between your legs, you stopped yourself from dwelling on it any further.

“Y/N, what do I do with this…?” He lifted his hand, still slicked with your fluids. His middle and ring fingers parted further, and your shiny, milky cum stretched between his fingers. The sight almost made you gape, such a contrast to the curiosity and genuine concern brimming in his eyes.

“Taste it.”

He sent you a look so incredulous and so quick, those blue eyes widened to the depths as if your suggestion meant total absurdity. “Taste it?”

“Taste it. It’s hot when men do that. Or, you could also make the girl taste it,” you pushed, rising from your spot. You grabbed his wrist, leading it closer to his mouth.

He hesitated and tensed, but when his eyes met yours, you only leaned in, urging him with a look in your eyes. He complied quietly and stuck out his tongue.

The sight was lewd. His face reddened impossibly more, up to the tips of his ears, as his mouth engulfed his two fingers wholly. He crinkled his nose so subtly that you couldn’t tell what ran through his mind. He tasted your fluids on his tongue, sucked it for a second, then swallowed.

Armin’s fingers slid out with a little pop, and you didn’t waste another moment to cup his face and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself when you pressed your tongue against his. He moaned at the sudden intrusion but melted into you easily. You could already feel his improvement as he reciprocated your energy and licked your mouth so nicely that the naturalness of it baffled you.

A passing thought in your head told you that this might’ve been too much for his first time, but when he dragged his clothed dick against your clit, you knew he enjoyed this as much as you did. You both shivered a little from the contact, prompting him to pull away.

“So…” he started, voice tiny and breathless. “What’s next?” But the way his eyes darted to your bare, leaking pussy and then to the bulge in his boxers suggested he knew exactly what came next.

You looked, too. Looked at the tight fit of his boxers on his bulging cock. Something about it—the unexpected size of him—made you giddy. Swelled your stomach with an indescribable weirdness.

“Take your boxers off.” Though you asked him, you couldn’t stop yourself from sneaking your hands to his hips and taking hold of the waistband. “Can I?”

He nodded hurriedly and gulped, tension and desperation etched on his face.

You pulled his boxers down, and with a little lift from his hips, you got them down to his strong thighs. Immediately, his cock sprung up against his abdomen, leaking precum that beaded down his red, aching tip. You licked your lips and gulped involuntarily at the sight because he was just so…

“Big…” you whispered softly.

“What?” He sounded out of it, like his question hadn’t carried any weight, rubbing a palm over his eyelids and pushing it into his hair. Like he couldn’t believe his eyes. An unspoken awkwardness filled the air as Armin removed his boxers completely. “Is—Is something wrong?”

He sat in front of you, naked in his entirety. Broad, smooth chest, taut, defined abs, muscly arms, thick thighs, and the softest, sweetest face that did not match the rock-hard, needy cock between his legs.

“Armin, I…I didn’t know you were so…big.”

He sputtered out, “W—What? I’m—I’m really not.”

He looked so nervous, so unsure. So sweet and so submissive. Instead of answering him, you wrapped both hands around his dick, lightly squeezed, and swiped a thumb over the slit where his precum spilled. You spread it down his shaft, wetting him with his own fluids.

“Agh…fuck…” he groaned, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. When you started jerking your hands up and down the length of his dick, his head moved forward and his hands came to cup your face. His hips bucked up with every jerk. You sensed his stare, but you were too occupied playing with his pretty dick.

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented quietly. He gulped so hard you heard the small breath that followed after. “I wish you could see how you look right now.”

“Yeah?” you teased, looking up at him between your long lashes. His eyes, lidded and drooping with lust, scanned your body, from your face to where your legs parted and revealed your slit.

“I don’t think you understand how pretty you are to me.” He inhaled sharply and brought a hand to squeeze the area where his shaft met his head, right over where your hand rested. “I could just cum looking at you.”

You didn’t expect that from him. He was just so obscenely honest, wasn’t he?

“Y/N.” He suddenly stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “I think—I think that’s good…don’t wanna take the spotlight. I’m here to please you.”

Your chest warmed at his words, and you fought down the urge to continue pleasing him to release your hands.

“O—Okay,” you stuttered out, gulping and shivering all in one breath. Your body moved on its own and reached for your nightstand. Deep in the last drawer, stashed behind all of your cluttered knick-knacks, sat an unopened box of condoms. Three, actually.

Shakily, under his watchful gaze, you tore apart a box and unveiled a singular, foiled package.

"Oh, you have a lot." He stared in mild disbelief, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, eyes crinkling. If you knew any better, you'd think he was smirking under there.

“It's not what it looks like! Sasha gifted it to me as a gag gift. I haven't done anything in a while,” you quickly defended, trailing off quietly at the end.

He didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the package between your fingers. The air held still, deathly silent beside the sounds of the crinkling wrapper. He had a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, very lightly squeezing.

“You know how to put on a condom?” you finally spoke up.

“I think so.” He nodded.

“Want to do it?”

He hesitated, and you caught the exact moment an idea clicked in his head. “No. Want you to do it.”

Something about that riled you up. Something about him watching you. Something about your dainty hands near his aching, needy cock, too impure for the likes of him.

He whimpered when you started sliding the condom down the length of his cock. The sweet sound of it rang through your ears. Made your heart lurch and your stomach heavy. When you finished, your head lifted to look him in the eyes. His cheeks were flushed so pink you wanted to kiss the color off of them.

“Ready?” You ignored the way your voice shook, borderline a stutter, and circled your arms around his neck.

“Yes. Please,” he whined. He was speaking with his eyes—begging with his eyes.

In one fell swoop, you both clambered down onto the sheets. And in this moment, when your eyes met his in a sweet remembrance, it felt like time had stopped, and all the anticipation you’d ever felt plummeted back into the pit of your stomach and built back up all over again.

He loomed above you, flushed, domineering, and most importantly, nervous.

You only wanted one thing.

"Please. Need you inside me."

He inhaled a deep, unsteady breath, holding back a whine.

Then, you felt the tip of his dick brush against the slicked mess of your opening, and you clenched around the empty, ghostly graze. The hands on your thighs pressed into you with a little more pressure at the contact. He was shaking. His whole body was shaking.

“P—Put it in slowly, ‘kay? Don’t want to hurt the other person.”

Armin listened, and in that final moment of anticipation, he slid in slowly, just the tip. You both gasped at the feeling. You were so, so wet and your heart beat so, so fast and his skin against your skin felt so, so right and so, so warm. The stretch had yet to creep up on you but you were already squirming under his touch.

He pushed into you, the feeling of him inside warm and fulfilling. He let out a strained “shitttt” as his hands moved to dig into your waist even harder. Eyes squeezed shut, he seemed to lose himself in the pleasure. You could tell by his labored breaths and flushed cheeks that he already was so, so sensitive.

With a final push, he bottomed out, touching a spot deep in you, far deeper than your fingers or his fingers or any other man that had come before him. And God, were you wet. Instinctively, your pussy clenched around him.

He hissed, pinning you down with his pelvis. “Don’t. Don’t do anything. Please, or I’m going to cum.”

And then it hit you—that you’d finally done it. That you’d just taken Armin’s virginity.

You had.

Shit, you clamped down on him again, and this time, he groaned and abruptly pulled out.

“Y/N,” he warned, voice drawn with honey. “I am not going to last,” he said, exasperated.

“It’s okay. It’s your first time.” You placed a hand on his cheek. “Besides, you’re with me. You don’t have to worry about it.”

He leaned into your touch, nuzzling into your hands, then gave you a small frown.

“Then how am I supposed to make you feel good?”

“Trust me. You’ll always make me feel good.”

With a cute—yet sinful—smile and a hard swallow, he lined himself up again, hands on your thighs, and gave an experimental thrust.

You whined at the intrusion, reminded again of how he fit so perfectly. How the hardness of his cock dragged so pleasantly against the slickness of your pussy.

And he did it again and again. Thrusted into you, albeit slowly, again and again. You’d let him intoxicate you again and again until all your body knew was the shape of his cock.

He moved deliberately, relishing every inch sheathed inside of you. He’d pull out with all the time in the world, dick coated in your wetness and eyes locked on where your bodies intertwined, and thrust back in with the most fervor and impatience.

The slowness of it, the intimacy of it—you couldn’t help but buck your hips in hopes of more.

With soft moans, his thrusts sped up, and without a warning, you felt him fully, the whole weight of him spilling inside of you. His hands slid up to your waist as his head tipped forward. You arched your back into him in a silent plea, finding yourself yearning for his pretty lips, the knot inside of your stomach swelling with pleasure. As if he could read your mind, he drowned your lips in a feverish, hot, kiss, burning your mouth with his tongue.

Every thrust met with the slap of skin-on-skin and the squelch of your fluids. It echoed through your bedroom walls alongside your muffled, whiny moans. You let yourself sink into the pleasure, letting him know that you felt good—that he made you feel good.

Because truly, he did nothing wrong; it all felt so right with him.

As he broke away from the kiss, leaving yet another string of saliva between you two, you took the chance to grab his hand.

“Play with my body. Like here.” You placed his palm onto your breast, squeezing it with his hand underneath yours. “Or here.” You sensually dragged his hand down to your slicked-up, aching clit.

Wordlessly, he complied, gulping down a constricted moan that bobbed his Adam’s apple. Armin rubbed your clit like you’d taught him, watching your hips wriggle under his touch.

As a reward, you tightened around him. Oh, did you like seeing him lose composure. You liked picking him apart. You liked plucking the petals off of this innocent, little flower. And judging from his dazed, barely present expression and the hands gripping hard onto your hips, you knew he liked it too.

He whined again, and the sound rang in the air in a soft whisper. So vocal, wasn’t he?

“Don’t be afraid to make noise. I wanna know how good you feel,” you asserted through lidded eyes.

Armin hummed a noise of confirmation, but it came out more of a moan as he juggled responding to you and recklessly pounding into you. You could tell he felt good—too good—as did you.

The ebb and flow of pleasure swam inside you with each fill of his cock into your pussy, waiting to burst. You felt so close yet far away, but you let him experiment, toying with you, trying every angle in both erratic and deliberate ways.

“Fuck!” you both cursed simultaneously with a perfect thrust into that spot inside of you. Your back arched off the bed unwillingly, arms clasping around his back and nails digging into his skin.

Armin moaned oh-so-sweetly. “I’m so close!” he panted out, a borderline whine.

“Cum for me. Please, Armin. Do it.”

And his hips never stopped. Kept fucking hastily and sloppily into you in chase of his climax and in chase of the sweet yelps pouring out of your mouth. You spurred him on, almost able to taste his final moment.

But the moment never came. You could hear the relentless, wet smack of your colliding bodies and the mix of low groans and hearty moans tumbling from his lips. His hips still never stopped, still chasing, still tasting.

You couldn’t believe he lasted this long. He really did want to hold out for you, to make you feel good.

Mewling again, you tightened your arms around his neck, the warmth scalding but the softness soothing under your fingertips. “Touch me. Please.”

His fingers pinched your perk nipple before you could even finish your sentence. He rolled the bud around with his thumb and forefinger until he heard you moan, finally laying a palm down to squeeze your entire tit—and squeezed hard. You relished in the way his hand trailed down, slowly, to where he could swipe his fingers over your throbbing clit.

Right now, all you knew was the shape of his cock. Heat radiated from his body and wrapped around you in a warm embrace. His breath tickled your earlobe, face hovering just above the crook of your neck.

Oh, please, it felt so good, so intimate. Everything about this. Everything about him.

"I love you. I love you so much,” he rasped through squeezed-shut eyes.

You looked at him wide-eyed, confused, and spellbound within the haze of lust, so out of that you believed your ears played a trick on you. It slipped out of his lips so wantonly you believed he uttered the words accidentally.

Your room suddenly felt too stuffy and a hundred more degrees hotter. A lone, oddly watchful bead of sweat rolled down your brow.

It took him only a second of your silence before he started nervously blabbering in your ear. "Um, wait, sorry. Shit. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I got lost in the moment. I’m sorry.”

He slowly inched away from you, but you paid no mind and pulled him back onto your lips.

You didn’t care that, caught so deep in emotion and pleasure, he said “I love you” during sex—during his first time, no less. His first time with you. And now, after it happened, you didn’t care to warn him of that taboo. You wanted to selfishly indulge in the possibility that he’d always say it to you, regardless of who he shared his first time with.

In your pleasurable bliss, you let yourself give in. “I love you too, Armin.”

He pulled away abruptly, your lips pulling apart with a wet click, disrupting the strange magnetism between the two of you.

"I'm sorry,” he whispered, then kissed you full force.

His love seeped into every pore of your body when he started thrusting into you again, full and hard and deep and starved. He didn’t spare you a chance to breathe with the way his mouth and cock engulfed you whole.

A mixture of whines, moans, and smacks filled your bedroom once more. The pounding rhythm between your legs grew sloppier, though still unyielding and energetic. You wanted to cry out, louder than ever and let your neighbors know because everything felt so unexpectedly good. Armin. Your best friend.

You ran your hands through his already-messed-up, blonde hair. You loved this look on him, a side of him that people never saw. Disheveled, falling apart, and...crazy.

He leaned back on his knees, still moving his hips, lust-filled eyes a dark, stormy blue that raked over your body.

And he did something you didn't expect of him—like he let it slip, like he couldn't keep his composure anymore.

He smirked down at you.

But you were convinced it was a mere twitch in your delirium, disappearing when you blinked.

His tip brushed your G-spot again, and you finally did cry out. “Right there! D—Don’t stop!”

Armin groaned in response, choking on his words, and suddenly laved a tongue over the pulse point in your neck. “You feel—you feel so good! I can’t hold…!”

That coil in your stomach thrashed with the need to burst and taunted you with the promise of an orgasm. You felt tight all over, so constricted with pleasure and emotion and heat.

“Y/N, you’re driving me crazy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m—”

“M—Me, too! I’m close. Cum for me, please.”

With one last thrust, he came, moaning loud, spilling hot cum into the condom. You felt him twitch inside you as a gradual warmth filled your insides.

Fuck, that did it for you. You came right behind him, wrapping your legs around him tight like a vice, white-hot pleasure consuming every vein in your body. In that moment, you kissed him and clamped your eyes shut, focusing hard, your cunt squeezing down on him to wring out the last of his orgasm, fluttering and pulsing so uncontrollably hard. It was like your pussy never wanted to let him go, wanted to relish the last of that feeling of home when his cock rooted deep into your pussy.

All the while, he spewed praises at you, some dirty, some sweet.

You couldn’t tell how long the two of you took to come down, to stop kissing, for your cunt to stop gushing, and for him to pull out—because it seemed like that moment lasted forever. Your cum coated your pelvis, his pelvis, your thighs, his thighs, and the already-soaked bedsheets.

With bated breaths and shaky hands, he pulled off the condom, tied the latex up, wrapped it in a tissue from your bedside, and threw it onto the floor where it landed among your sparsely scattered clothes.

Armin slumped down on you, wrapping strong arms around your waist in a suffocating, hot embrace. You gladly welcomed his weight.

It smelled of sex, sweat, and the dwindling remnants of his cologne.

You laid there, catching your breath.

You did it. He did it. You finished taking his virginity, and he successfully made you cum during the process.

And everything left you wondering…

Why was that…good? Sex with a virgin. Sex with your best friend. Did you even teach him enough? Because that was definitely a learning experience for you. The post-orgasm clarity hit you now like a slipper to the face, and you couldn’t wrap your head around what just happened.

Sleepily, you broke the silence, “Good job, Armin. You did amazing. You’re attentive, a fast learner, and just already so good to me. You made me cum twice. For a virgin.” A hearty laugh parted from your throat as you strung your fingers through his mussed hair. “I guess you aren’t one anymore.”

Armin remained silent. Was he already asleep?

In the quiet darkness, your heart started beating fast, even after the sex. Laying here felt domestic, like somebody made this bed for the two of you to snuggle in tonight, like a real couple.

Armin, face wedged between your sheets and your shoulder, hugged you impossibly tighter when he shifted to look at you.

“Thank you. I love you, Y/N.”

He breathed those three words with so much adoration in his eyes, gazing at you longingly beneath his thick, long lashes. The blue of his eyes shone brightly even in the dim lighting and through the hair obscuring his face.

“I really do love you,” he continued. “Not because of the sex. But because you’re a good friend. Thank you for letting me be vulnerable.”

Oh my gosh. You really didn’t deserve him. You’d exchanged your fair share of sentimental, platonic “I love you’s” to each other, but this one wrenched your heart like no other. Especially after sex.

He left you at a loss for words. But sleep tugged at your eyelids and your mind screamed at you to clean up and your post-nut clarity still remained unresolved; you couldn’t think of a reply even if you wanted to.

Even overwhelmed, your heart called out to him and you mustered up something.

“I’m grateful to have you as a best friend. I love you,” you gritted out.

Wrong. So, so wrong. Right now, this conversation was getting too emotional for a strictly physical agreement. But you didn’t lie nevertheless, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

Feeling grimy, you wriggle under his hold. “We should clean up. It’s good for women to pee after sex.”

As the final rip of the bandaid, he pecked you on your jaw. “I can’t.”

Your face twisted in confusion, still clouded by tiredness and the daze of lingering thoughts. “You can’t?”

“I can’t help it,” he suddenly mumbled.

“Armin, what are you—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when you felt something poking your thigh, stiff and hard.

Armin groaned deep in his chest, the sound rumbling against the shell of your ear as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

The hands that were once wrapped around your body slowly released their hold and grabbed onto your hips, hard and impatient. Armin started rutting into your thighs, dragging you along with him.

Your heart stuttered for a moment, in disbelief that he could keep going and that you would have to keep going, but your pussy clenched around nothing at the promise of something more.

“Can’t help it. I’m—I’m hard again.”

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