#eren yaeger fanfiction

[i2jen0]

i could fix him

[theragethatisdesire]

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.”

[luviisabella]

“What did she have to drink ??”

Connie covered his ears once the beat drop.

The club was packed and the music was so loud you’d probably miss if a meteor hit the room.

“Eren, what the hell did y/n drink”

Eren was focused on his shot in front of him before Connie grabbed his head and turned him in your direction.

You were wearing a black jean mini skirt and a shirt that showed your underboob nicely. Your YSL heels really carried the whole outfit, but what helped Eren recognize you was the way the bracelet he gave you as a birthday gift last year shined perfectly in the lighting of the room.

“Eren- you’re not gonna do something ?” Connie’s face was turned red looking at you.

Your outfit wasn’t the issue. It was the fact that you were giving quite the show on that stripper pole. Maybe if you weren’t so out of it you’d notice the way you had guys throwing cash at you. You even bent down and had a guy place $20 in your back pocket of the skirt you had on.

Eren enjoyed the show, until he got up from his seat and walked over to you. Considering he was 6ft he made his way easily through the crowd.

You noticed him through the hazy view of smoke and scent of booze in the air. You smirked before leaning down to him. You were on your knees, leaning down a little more to meet his eyes.

“Best fucking hiccup birthday everrrrrr” your words were so slurred he couldn’t help but smirk at the way you laughed at yourself.

Your eyes were closed but shot back open when you felt lips against yours, a tongue making its way to yours and you let it. Because you knew who it was and you knew who you wanted it to be.

He pulled back before lifting you off the mini stage, a couple boos filling the air until Jean made his way on the stage.

“Eren-“ you were trying to get his attention, but he was solely focused on getting through the crowd of people until he found Connie.

“Connie.”

“Yeah ?” He stood up from the stool and calmed down when he noticed you in Eren’s arms.

Eren licked his lips before scoffing.

—

“Whiskey”

[jasmineoolongtea]

whenever someone asks boxer!eren what motivates him, he gives them two answers.

the first answer, of course, is his mum. at the end of the day, he's a mama's boy through and through and that's something he's fully unabashed about by naming her as his number 1 supporter.

the second reason is you. he knows that he can always look to the side and see you, his pretty pretty girlfriend, standing right there in the crowd, cheering him on like his very own personal cheerleader. the moment the bell rings to signal that the match is over and they announce his victory, he's already making his way over to where you are because having you in his arms is a better reward than any trophy or championship title he could win.

and if his opponents even so happen to glance at you in the wrong way (and that's a very broad definition according to eren), then you can guarantee that they'll be knocked out cold on the floor within the span of less than a minute.

don't even bother asking him about what just happened because all he'll do is give you a wry smile and innocently ask for a kiss to congratulate him on his victory.

what he doesn't tell them is the third answer on that list of his. he keeps quiet about the handful of polaroids he keeps hidden away in his locker. before he heads into the ring, eren finds himself looking at them not only for good luck (because when has a bit of good luck ever hurt anyone) but also to remind him what he's fighting for.

the first polaroid is a picture of you, him and his family standing on the porch of his childhood house from a few summers ago. the second one is a drunken photo of you, him and his friends at your housewarming party. he likes to joke that his whole world is in those two photos to which you always respond by rolling your eyes affectionately at him.

the third and fourth polaroids are very different compared to the previous ones. he has his hands wrapped around your waist in the third one, his face messily littered with smudged lipstick marks as he grins against your lips. you're wearing a shirt that's way too big for you as the collar has slid off to one side to reveal a collection of freshly made hickies blooming on your skin with more trailing down underneath the fabric and ending at god knows where.

the fourth polaroid, which is hidden safely under all the others, is his favourite out of all of them. it's a photo of you, wrapped up in nothing but his bedsheets, as you lie underneath him. you're staring straight up at the camera, more specifically at eren who's behind said camera, with kiss-swollen lips and an expression of fucked-out bliss. almost every inch of your skin is covered in marks and your hair is splayed out messily behind you like some kind of halo.

to eren, the best part about the photo is the silver 'e' initial necklace that sits perfectly in the middle of your chest as a constant reminder that you're his.

[7brownsuga7]

Jealousy

Eren x fem reader

Word count: 2k+

Genre & warnings: drabble, smut - minors DNI. Fluff, smut, angst, explicit language, unprotected sex, & creampie

Summary: You make your boyfriend Eren jealous at a party and he gets you back by fucking the shit out of you in his car

Note: was originally a Jungkook drabble of mine but l've just changed his name and added Eren for my aot peeps lmfao

To tell the truth, Eren was never the insecure type. Jelous and possessive, yes, but never insecure. He knew you were for him and no one else, and that’s why he was never wary of you going out with minimal clothing. You looked good in it, too good. Good enough to want to fuck your throat in the bathroom while yours and his friends partied on.

His cock twitched just at the thought of the material hugging your figure, the figure that he loves seeing bent over his lap while his fingers work wonders inside of you.

Your pussy was his weakness.

And you were currently keeping it from him. After a heated argument before the party did you both silently agree to leave each other alone for the rest of the night.

His little hopes of fucking you in the bathroom long gone as you have fun with your friends while he sulks in a corner while his friends banter.

He never minded you going out in your little skirts or dresses, not that you would let him stop you, your attitude and feistiness is what he loves the most. But that would always go away when he’s deep inside of you.

He watches you from across the room, the little black skirt you have on right now isn’t doing to good for the minimal space he has in his pants. You’re with your friends, oblivious to the few men that can’t seem to look away from you.

He doesn’t blame them for staring, but deep down he hopes that’s all they do. He knows you could handle them with your little attitude, but some men don’t back away so easily, and he doesn’t want to have to result in anything that will ruin both of your nights.

Eren has a reputation for his temper, it’s something that he’s working on, but with your obliviousness and the men surrounding you, it’s hard to control. Especially when you both have just had a heated argument.

So after a while of watching you as he gets frustrated when a guy approaches you and you entertain him, does he then make a promise to himself that he’s going to make you pay for teasing him.

You always do this whenever you argue, try to make him jealous by talking to another guy when you know he’s watching. Eren doesn’t know if you do it deliberately or not, but the sight of you giving your attention to a man other than him makes him feel all different types of things.

He’ll never stop you from talking to a man, he’s not that possessive, but that doesn’t mean he appreciates it. Especially when your innocent eyes look up at the man before you as he hungrily eyes you.

When the party comes to and end, a few stragglers here and there, do you find yourself in Erens car.

You both sit there in silence, you wondering why he hasn’t started the car yet. Your questions are answered when his deep voice sounds over the music.

“Who was you talking to back at the party?”

You watch as his slim body lazily leans against the seat, hair messily tied back in a bun, a few strands loose. His body language is completely opposite to what his tone suggests.

“Eren I’m not doing this today, we already done this before the party, let’s not have another” you roll your eyes watching as he looks at you with his unbothered posture.

He licks his lips and moves the fallout hair out from his face.

“You attempted to make me jealous and now that you’ve succeeded, you’re mad? Baby, just answer my question”

“We just talked Eren, don’t make this into a big deal”

Maybe you were oblivious to his true intentions, he doesn’t really give a fuck about what you spoke about because he knows he’s going to be buried deep inside of you before the night ends.

The other guys can look at you and dream of you all they want, but he will be the one to enjoy the taste of your pussy, he will always gets the last laugh.

“Get in the back seat”

“What? Eren take me home”

“Y/n I’m not playing, get in the back seat”

You watch his eyes lower in warning, daring you to say anything else.

You hide a smirk as you shuffle your way to the back seat, making yourself comfortable as you spread your legs open for him as he watches you in the drivers seat, bottom lip between his teeth.

It’s like a little game to you guys. Argue and then fuck, you knew it was coming eventually, you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

He makes his way to you, watching your pussy hide behind the lacy underwear you wore tonight.

Such a little tease he thinks.

Soon enough you both have swapped positions, him sitting on the seat and you on top of him, your clothed pussy throbbing against his hard cock that surely shows under his jeans.

You decide to slowly grind back and forth to relieve yourself of the friction you crave.

Eren softy hisses, looking up at you with hunger and admiration. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you continue to grind against him. Your black skirt now hunched above your waist.

He takes this opportunity to play with your soft ass as you eagerly kiss him. The taste of alcohol is still evident on his lips which only makes you deepen the kiss.

“Pull me out” he grunts after you both come up for air.

You smirk at him, lifting up a bit so your hand can access his zipper, he helps you with this task as you evidently move slower than he would like.

Your pussy clenches around nothing when you see the sight of his thick throbbing cock.

You move your hand slowly up and down his length, savouring his reaction as he deeply moans at the touch. Your thumb rubs against his tip, just before you decide to lift up again and direct his dick towards your wet cunt.

Panties to the side, you lower yourself slowly down his length, your wetness helping you through the process as you take him in.

“Fuck” you both say in unison.

Your eyes close as you sit there on his lap with his full dick inside of you, a slight burn as he fully stretches you out.

“Look at me princess” his deep voice sounds through the dark car.

You open them and watch him in all his glory. A slight smirk on his pink lips, his eyes never leaving you, how could he? He wants to see every little thing, the way your eyebrows slightly furrow, to the way you bite down on your plump lips. He can’t miss it.

His hand comes up behind your neck, guiding you towards him as he kisses you again, this time more rougher, more sloppier.

You slowly lift up with his cock still inside of you. With your added wetness the burn is only faint which then eases into nothing as your pace quickens.

He’s catching your moans in his deep kiss, hands on your ass again as he helps you with the pace.

“You gonna continue to make me jealous?” He grunts as he delivers a smack to your ass which is followed by a whiny moan from you.

His pace quickens, him doing most of the work as you simply can’t take anymore.

You shake your head as you use the headrest in front to help support you as his cock continues to pound inside you.

“Use your words” he watches you turn into a full mess, your breasts almost spilling out of your top at the quick pace he’s giving. Your whiny moans are like music to his ears, only egging him to go harder.

“No! I won’t make you jealous Eren. Fuck! Oh my god!” You slump against and clench around him in pure ecstasy as his cock continues to pound in you. His balls slapping against your ass adding to his perfect melody.

The wetness of your pussy makes its way down your thigh and onto his jeans as you whimper against his chest.

“Eren please fuck, right there”

“You like making me jealous huh?” He coos in your ear as his pace slowens but his movements become harsher. “Just so I can fuck you like this?”

You hurriedly nod, not really listening to what he’s saying as all you can focus on is his cock that’s working wonders inside of you.

You’ll never be able to get enough of his dick.

But despite your thoughts, your words betray you when you say; “Baby please I can’t take it”

“You want me to go slower?” He watches you with concern as you sit up and look at him with a soft pout as you nod your head.

“Go at your pace baby”

You put both of your hands behind you on his knees for support as you grind back and forth at your pace, the sound of your wetness can be heard throughout the car, that just eggs you to keep going.

“Mhh fuck” he moans as you keep grinding.

You start to slowly rise and go back down again at your pace while Eren fondles with your breasts over your top.

You stifle a moan as you continue riding him slowly, the added pleasure of him playing with your tits makes your head spin.

“Fuck baby you’re taking me so well” his arms grab your waist as he scoots down the seat a bit to further comfort himself. He takes control, still making sure that he’s not too rough and fast, because although he wants to pound you like crazy, he also doesn’t want to hurt you and push you further than your limits.

Your moans fill the car along with Erens deep grunts as he feels you clenching around him again as your orgasm slowly approaches.

His large hands stroke up and down your back as he thrusts his hips up into you, taking your breath away.

“E-Eren please” you almost stand up not being able to take anymore, despite your approaching orgasm.

“You can take it, take it for me baby”he continues at his slow pace trying his hardest not to to take full control.

He catches your moans in his kiss again as he slightly lifts you up and down on his lap, his cock hitting your spot as you let out another whimper.

“You’re doing such a good job Princess”

“Eren”

Your orgasm is approaching fast and you know his is too, by the way he begins to sloppily thrust his hips into you.

“I’m here, I’m right here baby” he pants as you play with the hair that’s found it’s way on his forehead.

The way he intensely watches you as you both come to a simultaneous orgasm is just enough to send you through the roof as your words get stuck in your throat and you look up at the roof of his car in euphoria.

“F-fuck” he grunts as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Your pussy repeatedly clenches after your orgasm, making him slightly hiss.

You watch him with pure lust as you both come down from your orgasm, both of you looking like a fucked out mess. Sweat dripping down your clothed bodies as well as both of your cum that’s slowly making its way down your thigh.

“Jealousy looks good on you”

[prncessjaeger]

eren and his mystery cheerleader gf! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

syp: no one believed eren had such a pretty gf…until now

trin speaks!: be mindful i might have errors. it’s normal.  

“so where’s your so-called "girlfriend" at? or did you make this one up too like the last time-”

“oh fuck off, connie, that was one time, and i was 12!” the rest of his friends surrounding him laughed at his embarrassment, (apparently he was the only one without a girlfriend so he made up having one…like i’m talking fake messages and everything.) currently, they were at a rival school’s basketball game since you didn’t go to their school and of course eren decided to come and support you…but his friends armin, connie, and onyankopon tagged along with him, wanting to see who his “special lady” was. “so is the game gonna start or…?” “uh, i think? it just turned 6-” armin was cut off with a set of claps and loud stomps from the side of the bleachers, cheerleaders could be heard shouting a set of words while the boys ran out through the middle of them. parents, children and other spectators could be heard yelling in excitement for the intense game that was yet to happen. 

eren looked around to spot you, finding you sitting on the bottom bleacher scrolling on your phone, and the boys traced his eyesight, “bro no way you date that girl sitting on the bottome row?” “huh?” connie pointed at you, “her? she’s toooo fine to be dating you-” “hey?! what’s wrong with me?” “-she should be dating me!” everyone around him rolled their eyes, “if anything she should date me, black love is the best love-” “right, but she’s entitled to date anyone she dates, besides we don’t know her,” armin was received with blank stares from all three of em while ignoring eren’s mumbling claims of, “i’m the one dating her,” soon or later it was halftime, which was a break time for everyone.

the dance team began to perform and all the cheerleaders went their separate ways. connie and armin went to concessions and onyankopon was talking with a girl he’d just met, so eren searched and searched for you, until he felt a pair of cold, soft hands hindering his vision. “guess whooo~”

“my beautiful baby i’d hope?” you kept his eyes covered as you moved infront of him, then removed them happily, “well you hoped right! hi eren!” you hugged him and sat next to him, leaning into his arms, “oh wait- you see our new uniforms?” “yes, its looks amazing- they added glitter to the school letters?” your curls shooks as you rapidly nodded, “yes! and the other sports coaches complained about it, wanting the letters to be unisex but i mean, glitter is glitter, and THEN the coaches made us run 5 laps before the game because someone left their bow at home, and now…” he turned towards you so he could listen to you better, and once the buzzer went off, you had to bid your goodbye, “you taking me home?” “you think you could ride home with sasha - i have the guys and i don’t wanna make it too crowded, i’ll get you once you get home?” your slight frown turned upside down and you noddied happily, “okay! see ya!” you waved enthusiastically and he waved back, sighing in content. “who’re you waving at?”

“my girlfriend?” they all stared at eren for like 5 seconds, then bursted out laughing at him, “oh man eren, you are too funny!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after dropping his friends off, eren sat outside your home, waiting for your arrival and decided to do something that’ll hopefully get into his friends head that he’s actually dating someone. he smirked at his phone, editing up his caption and nearly jumped hearing his car door open, seeing you in his hoodie and some cute grey shorts, “hey baby,” you kissed his cheek and saw his phone, “uhh why are you…?”

“you’ll see.”

[mishellii]

jealousy, jealousy .ᐟ.ᐟ

including: levi, eren, armin, connie & jean

warnings: kms jokes (jean's) , vulgar language (??)

likes & reblogs appreciated <3

masterlist

a/n: i love aot sm so i decided to just go ahead and post this :D thank u guys for reading aaand i'll see u beans next time uuhbye bye xx

divider by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[seredelgi]

So what about the way they kiss you? / AOT x fem!reader.

featuring: Eren Yaeger, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Reiner Braun, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman.

tw: kissing, groping, pet names, lip-biting, idk, honestly I think apart from the pet name in Armin's, this might be pretty gender-neutral but idk

Eren is gentle, his hands have a firm hold on your hips as you sit in his lap. Of course, all it takes is the slightest brush of one of them up your back to send shivers up your spine, and when you moan shamelessly on his lips, that's when he turns greedy and dips his fingers in your flesh, pulling you in to feel your warmth and adding his tongue into the mix. You can rest assured, he's not letting you go that easily after what you've left yourself slip.

Armin is a moaner. He can't help it, he likes the softness of your skin way too much not to be vocal about it. And he likes to explore it, too. Gentle caresses of affection stroking up and down your arms and along your neck. And sometimes, when you two are alone, he'll even utter quiet little praises on it. You're his princess, after all.

Jean loves to hold you by the nape of the neck. You're not sure why honestly, it's not like you would run away from it, quite the contrary. You melt immediately against him, driven docile by the scent of his cologne. You put your hands on his chest, feeling the quickening of his heartbeats as he pulls you in and drives a hand of his to rest on the small of your back.

Connie's kisses are sloppy and quite needy. It's like sex is already on his mind the moment he can breathe in your scent, and it shows. His hands are restlessly roaming through your skin, looking for every single part of yours he just loves to squeeze and taste. And you can bet he won't stop at kissing your lips, nu-uh. Once the man gets a taste of them he has to go for at least the neck, too, it's mandatory. It is safe to say that kissing in public has been officially banned by you, much to his disapproval. But the man seriously lacks any self-control.

Reiner takes his time. He's a tease. Even during foreplay, he likes to soft kiss and slowly trace patterns on your already impatient skin. He loves the way you grip his hair tightly and mewl in his ear, pleading for him to give you more. But of course, he won't give in easily. And you've got to resort to kissing his neck and sucking on his earlobe to make your needs clearer. It's when his breaths finally cut short too that you know you'll get what you need.

Erwin is a hard one to crack. He usually gives very chaste, affectionate kisses. It drives you wild how difficult it is to make him squirm. So you have to be the one to cross the line, and you usually do by slipping your tongue past his lips as he holds you close, having to slide your fingers in the strands of his blond hair to elicit in him those soft groans you love so much. Once you start to grind in his lap and keen in his mouth he pulls you back, needing to see the arousal on your face before finally giving in, covering your neck with passionate kisses.

Levi does not like PDA, but the moment you two are alone he pulls you in greedily, too deprived of it. It's breathtaking and it makes you kind of dizzy. But to be honest, you don't feel like complaining, not when what you've wanted to do all day is finally being bestowed on you, and with such passion to make you tremble. He bites on your lips, and hard, making you arch into him and whimper, giving his tongue the needed access to finally be able to savor you.

How do they take compliments, then?

What gets them going?

What's their love language?

How do they take you?

Do they get jealous?

What names do they like being called in bed?

And what pet names do they use the most?

What about JJK men?

[erens-heart]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ cw: fem!bodied reader, eren is a bit of a meanie idk, corruption kink, humiliation, virgin!reader, maybe i will make a part two where eren actusally sweeps resder off their feet idk. enjoy. MDNI!!!!!!

eren who has the whole school falling for him.

eren who cares about you, in a non-verbal, brooding kinda way. he doesn’t love you just yet, you just happen to pique his interest because you spoke to him once after class. he’s used to clingy girls, but you seem normal enough.

eren who keeps you at arms length to begin with because he thinks all girls have a hidden agenda, and he swore that he wouldn’t give his heart away! not after the last time…

eren who finds you too cute to ignore. he can’t shake the thoughts he has about you, and after a long day of classes all he can think of is wanting to make you ride his dick. his guess is that you’re a virgin, and have probably never seen one up close.

eren who manages to get your number from a friend of a friend, because it’d be weird if he asked for it himself. he messages you out of the blue one saturday afternoon. you’re hesitant at first, but give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s hot, and you’re curious.

eren who persuades you to meet up at his dorm. you aren’t against the idea, and agree, not realising that this would the beginning of a contract.

eren who puts in more effort than expected. he puts on your favourite movie and offers you a drink from his mini-fridge. you’re swallowing nervously, unsure whether you can trust his facade. you’re uncertain where the evening will take you, but eren’s dorm is comfortable enough so you can’t complain.

eren who sneaks his hand under the blanket to hold your thigh. it’s only ten minutes into the movie and now you’re blushing furiously. you have no way of hiding that you’ve never been touched there before. it’s embarrassing as fuck. he chastely tucks your hair behind your ears whilst you concentrate on the screen.

eren whose fingers are in your mouth shortly after that. he’s looking down at you with dead eyes, whilst you suck on his long fingers. his hands are rough, you can feel the callouses on your tongue, meanwhile the look he’s giving you gives you butterflies, and makes your tummy tingle. you like how small he makes you feel, it turns you on. you pull away, kissing his fingertips softly, one by one, allowing him the time to study your flustered expression. it’s not his first time doing this, you think, catching a glimpse of his predatory eyes.

eren who looks at you like you’re nothing, and cups your chin, using his thumb to caress your jaw like you’re everything.

eren who scoots closer to whisper something dirty in your ear, and smirks against it. he smells so good, and makes you feel like you’re in high school again.

eren who’s thinking of all the ways he can corrupt you, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he starts by hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom. his rooms even messier than the rest of his dorm, and covered in grungy posters. he throws you onto his bed and climbs ontop of you, whilst you tuck your hands shyly between your legs, not wanting him to see what you’ve got hiding inbetween.

eren who wants nothing more than to rip your panties off, and sticks his head underneath your skirt to admire the outline of your pussy. he pulls your panties up at the front to give you a camel-toe, watching the shape of your cunt become more pronounced.

eren who chuckles whilst you squirm uncomfortably. you’ve never felt so humiliated before in your life. at the same time, you’ve never felt so needy. you’ve touched yourself before, and experimented with a few household objects, but this is different. this is sick. he’s fucking evil.

eren who manhandles you and lifts you up so that you’re on all fours in your short skirt. he has the perfect view of your ass, and your clothed pussy from behind. he can see a dark patch of built-up excitment on your panties that makes his dick ache. he strokes your mound a few times, watching you shake ontop of his bed.

eren who carefully peels your panties down to reveal your glistening pussy slit and leaves your underwear to dangle around your thighs. there is no doubt in his mind that this is your first time, because your pussy is so wet. you’re so exposed. you half hate it, and the other half of you feels like a goddess.

eren who taunts you with his long fingers, and strokes the slit of your cunt with them, watching them get all wet. he slowly sticks one finger in, and feels you clench around it. you’re so tight, he can only imagine what you’ll feel like clenching around his dick instead.

eren who’s careful not to push you too far. he fucks with his fingers, curling them inside you, making you whine and moan. he pulls back occassionally to edge you, patting and slapping your soppy kitty. he knows he can finish you off like this if he wants, but recognises the change in your tone when your orgasm approaches, and immediately stops. your pussy flutters desperately.

eren who flips you onto your back and climbs on top of you again, and uses the entire palm of his hand to rub your pussy. this time he doesn’t stop, and you feel a sudden burst! as though someone’s setting fireworks off in your tummy. you’re grabbing his wrist and sobbing.

[i2jen0]

“this is it, freedom”

[nana-au]

Eren Jaeger Loves Taking Photos of You

₊˚ପ⊹ fluff + smut - MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ warnings: consensual photo taking, m! masturbation, oral m! receiving,  slight oral f! receiving, p in v sex lol (no protection) 

₊˚ପ⊹ word count: 1.3k

₊˚ପ⊹ not proof read im sowwy

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Eren loves taking photos of you. 

It reminds him of the first time he saw you - on Sasha’s private snap. You were in pajamas with your hair tied up out of your face. Your hand covered your mouth, obviously mid laugh when Sasha snapped the picture. He felt like he was gut punched, maybe even a little offended Sasha never mentioned you. Why would she? He doesn’t know, but he does feel betrayed. Mikasa was next to you, leaning on your shoulder for the picture. The caption: ‘movie night with these girls’ followed by a heart emoji. Maybe if he wasn’t so enthralled by you he would feel shame for sliding up, asking for your socials. I mean, if you're Sasha and Mikasa’s friend, it was only a matter of time you would be his too. What’s the harm in speeding up the process?

The second photo was a group photo. Jean, Connie, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Eren, and of course you. The group photo wasn’t his idea but he was adament it was taken on his phone. He noted you covered your smile again. He remembered making a mental note at the time that he needed to get you out of your shell. 

More photos followed after the night he convinced you your face was nothing to hide. You two still weren’t together yet, but the tension between you two wasn’t going unnoticed by the group. Your legs would rub against each other when you were sat side by side with him. He found any excuse to touch you. Adjusting your fly away’s, wiping the ice cream off your chin, whispering jokes in your ear to name a few. You did the same, shoving his shoulder when he said something cheeky. Or grabbing his biceps when walking side by side. You swore every time you grabbed him you would never get over how strong he felt. The night he told you he wished you weren’t so camera shy was the night you spilled your feelings to him. How you developed later in life and that you always felt behind your peers. You grew up the odd kid and you still struggled to fathom you weren’t still that awkward girl from high school. It was just the two of you on the loveseat of Armin and his shared apartment. He squeezed your thigh and his genuine eyes spoke to you before his words did. “You are really a sight for sore eyes.”

Even as just friends you felt more loved than you had ever felt from another human being before. Because of this, it felt incredibly natural becoming his girlfriend. The flash of his phone’s camera became more prevelant than before. He insisted taking pictures of you dressed up pretty for your dates or when you were sleeping soundly in his arms.

In the back of his mind he always knew the next step to his new hobby of photography. It came to a head one night with his hands in his pants while he panted against his pillow. His bottom lip was between his teeth and his fist was becoming sloppy imagining you spread open and allowing him to take a picture of it. Afterwards, he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head, but he was still scared to bring it up to you. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable - you had only recently stopped shying away from his lense. He couldn’t ruin that for you. But the nights he pondered the mental image of you letting him capture your most delicate moments pushed him to the edge unbelievably fast. His hot cum would shoot onto his stomach and cover his hand. He used to think it was impossible for him to have such a large load until his fantasies started. 

He decided the digital form of your naked body was a no-go. That’s why he bought his first polaroid. He asked for your permission of course,  promising it would be kept between you and him only. He used it during the first time you went down on him. It was hard at first to lift up the camera, he was too lost in the pleasure of your tongue. Your mouth fit him perfectly even though you were nervous he would fit. He knew he would, and he knew you would make him feel this good. He massaged your jaw each time you took him deeper. His fingers lightly stroked your throat as he lined up the camera. Click. He set the photo down next to him, getting ready for the next. “Look at me sweet girl,” he cooed. Your eyes reached his. Click. Another photo joined him on the bed. You were on your knees in front of him, taking him in the back of your throat. You tasted the salty precum every time you ran your tongue against his head. His head lolled back for awhile, basking in the feeling of your tight throat. His hips moved into yours, but only lightly. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to wait till the end to see the developed photos but he couldn’t muster the patience needed. He picked up the last one he took, your doe eyes looking at him with pure love. He groaned, professing his undying loyalty to you and your warm wet mouth. You were such a good girl, wanting to swallow his cum when he came but he knew what needed to happen. He gripped your hair and pulled you off of him, requesting you to close your eyes. He spilled his seed all over your face, cumming loud against your features. When he was done he rubbed his tip against your lips and you opened your eyes, not expecting one final click. He praised you all day about how beautiful you were. That you were meant for the camera. 

You were most nervous for the day he wanted to take pictures of your wet pussy stuffed full with his cock. He spent an hour warming you up for it. Lapping at your clit with his tongue, using his index finger to tease the entrance of your pussy. He wouldn’t give it all to you, making sure to leave restless. Restless and ready. By the time he pushed himself in you were dripping against his cock. If he wasn’t so determined to photograph the moment he could have easily been lost in the bliss of your plush walls. He pushed himself as far as he could go, causing you to mewl out at how deep he was. His hand pressed down against your stomach and he snapped a picture. He allowed to lose himself for the moments it took to development. Skin slapping against skin as you gripped at his thighs. He made sure to praise you through all of it. Your pussy was heaven. You looked so sexy under him. You were such a good girl for letting him savor this for later. He pulled your legs completely over his shoulder, locking you in with one arm. The other lined up for yet another photo of his member deep inside you. He threw the camera down as it developed, going slow and sweet talking you. He needed to let you know how much he appreciated this. He reached down to play with your clit and you were quick to fall apart. You secretly loved the photos as much as he did. Seeing the ones of you taking his cock in your mouth turned you on more than you thought it would. You couldn’t wait to see the ones he was taking and you came hard at the thought of being able to see you stuffed full of him. He rode you through your climax before manipulating your body onto all fours, pounding you hard, determined to cum too. “You were made for me, huh?” He asked and you replied incoherently. Your walls gripped his length at the thought of what was to come; His semen that was about to spill into you.

He thought he would pass out once he finally saw it. His cum spilling out of your folds, you whining at the feeling. He lines up his camera one last time for the day. Click.

[luviisabella]

You held your breath because you knew if he found you. It was over.

You heard him walk past the room you were in and quickly made your exit down the stairs and to towards the hall.

You didn’t bother looking back.

And maybe that’s how he caught you.

You helped when you were suddenly pulled by your arm into a dark room. You knew it was over the minute you felt his hand graze your hip bone. The shirt you were wearing being slightly pulled up by the way you were pinned against the wall.

“Eren-“

“You told me if I win I can do whatever I want, right ?”

Even in the dim lighting of the room from the moonlight barely providing light, you could tell he was tense.

He stood up, now placing his knee between your legs and holding your hips in place.

You flinched when you felt his lips brush against your jawline and to your ear.

“Move your hips.”

And involuntarily you did so. Fuck. You weren’t supposed to get caught.

The room slowly filled with tension and the silence breaking once soft moans began leaving your lips.

Even though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“If you cum I’ll let you play another round as redemption.” His thumbs gently come to rub circles against your skin.

“If you win… I’ll let you pick what you want to do.”

You knew he meant it by the way he snuck his hands under your shirt to gently play with your breasts, finally giving you more than just you grinding against him.

“If you lose…”

His breath fanned against your lips.

—

“I’m picking another game to play.”

[bbstastycake]

here we go again.

pt. 2

you wince at the low breath you accidentally allowed to escape you as a group of guys approached you and your friends’ table. you prayed it wasn’t heard, but by the way a few of them glanced toward you, it was and judging by looks on their faces, it was the first time they were noticing you in the thirty minutes that they had been eyeing your group.

“…yeah and if you want, we could get you into vip,” one of the guys say loud enough for you to barely catch, causing you to come out of your thoughts. hearing that, you slightly perk up with the hope of being able to at least drink for free while your friends are finding their… escapade for the night.

you look around your table and see your friends grins and their excitement for the prospect of being invited into the most exclusive section of the hottest club of the year. you giggle at their elation before looking back at the group of boys.

“yeah, we all get a plus one so let’s go,” another says, the slurring of his words making it obvious that he’s had more than his fair share of drinks.

he’s definitely not it.

your friends move to couple up while you stay seated waiting for them to leave you with their last pick, not in the mood to experience rejection. you watch and wait, finding the ice at the bottom of your glass far more interesting than anything going on around you at the moment. you move your straw to the left, then to the right watching the ice melt into the liquor.

slowly, you look up in search of whoever you were so lucky to have been left with.

shit, the drunkie. fucking perfect.

you make eye contact with him sending a soft smile his way.

well, there’s nothing that says i gotta fuck him. just gotta act like i will.

you prepare yourself to approach him, fully prepared to drown him out with alcohol once you got to the club, when you see it. you see the realization set in. the realization that you were the last of the girls in the group. the realization that he was forced to couple with you.

here we go again.

you watch in disappointment and disgust, but not surprise as he searches frantically among the girls in your group for someone else, anyone else … who didn’t look like you. you don’t even attempt to make your way towards him, opting to instead head the opposite way towards the bar, but not before feeling someone grab onto your arm.

“hey, love! what’s up? where you going?” you relax into your friend’s hold and force yourself to look happy.

“yeah, i’m actually not up for it tonight, babe. i’m sorry! don’t worry about me though! i’m just grabbing a drink for the road, so go have fun !” you give her the best smile you could muster seeing that you obviously didn’t convince her. she gives you a worried look before you widen your smile.

“listen! i’m fine, i promise,” you say in another attempt to convince her. “…and you have my location! now stop worrying about me and GO! have fun ! text me , okay? let everyone know i’m fine.”

you give her hand a squeeze and watch her give in, the wine she had with dinner making it easier for her to let you go.

“i don’t like this but… if that’s what you want then okay. you have to text me when you get home… ‘kay?” you nod, taking your lip between your teeth.

you watch as she goes back toward the girls you came with and you mouth your goodbyes before turning around and allowing your smile to drop. you get to the bar and throw back a last shot before strutting your way out of the restaurant, failing to notice how dark it’s become.

as you stand on the sidewalk outside of the building in your skimpy outfit, you can’t help but to feel like an idiot.

what the fuck was i thinking?

you let out a bitter laugh at yourself.

“what’s so funny, sweetheart?” you freeze as the smell of booze overwhelms your senses. your body tenses as you feel the warmth of a large figure creep dangerously close behind you. you ignore the man, hoping he would take the hint and go away. you feel a hand placed on your waist. the blood drains from your face as you try to build up the courage to speak.

here we go again.

“hmm? i said what’s a pretty girl like you doing laughing outside all alone?” your body is stiff with fear as you feel the weight of his hand on your body increase. you clear your throat and struggle to keep your voice from shaking. “i asked you a question, sweetheart. it’s rude not to speak when spoken to,” you feel his grip tightening more. “you don’t wanna be rude, do you, doll?”

“please don’t touch me,” you say weakly as your heart pounds.

“hmm? what’s that? don’t be like that. i’m just tryna have a little fun. isn’t that something a girl like you is into?”tears threaten to fall from the edge of your eyes and your mind races, the alcohol dulling your senses. you begin to claw at his hands, attempting to remove them.

“fuck are you doing, asshole?” you flinch at a voice directed toward you, but you don’t dare look up. the man behind steps back.

“what? man, get out of here. this has nothing to do with yo-” the abrupt stop causes you to glance up for the first time and get a good look at the men above you. the man behind you had a muscular build. his grey t-shirt struggled to contain the strength that bulged out of his arms. the chain that rested on his chest seemed like a thread in comparison to the pecs it was nestled between.

he could bash your head in if he wanted to.

you looked to your right at the other guy who wasn’t nearly as muscular, his look far more sleek with a half open silk t-shirt and a messy half up-half down that rested on each of his shoulders. his dead eyes drifted to you before resting back onto the man behind you. “you wanna finish that sentence or do you wanna live?”

his eyes pierce into him and you slowly turn to focus on his face. even with the obvious size difference, the larger male trembled under his gaze. the tall, slender man looked down at the cowering man with disgust as he held his hand out towards you. you quickly take it and stand by him, eyes cast down.

the shorter, muscular man doles out an apology and rushes away, leaving you with-

“eren,” he says now putting his focus on you. “nice to meet you. can i get you a drink?” you look up in shock at the situation, wondering why he made such a quick getaway. you realize you were still trembling and as though he read your mind, the man (who you now knew as eren) wrapped you in his coat and draped his arm around you, surrounding you in his scent and as a result.

“you don’t have to do that,” you muttered, already embarrassed about the whole ordeal and about the fact that you needed to be saved by a stranger. “i really appreciate your help and everything but i’m okay now and i already called an uber so you don’t have to.” your head dips down in appreciation.

“i know,” he says. “i know i don’t have to do anything, but who said i didn’t want to?” he walks over and holds the door to the restaurant open.

“so? what you think lil mama? you in?” he awaits your response with a smirk.

***

“and theeeennnnn he looks at me like i was some dog shit at the bottom of his fucking shoe! like bitch PLEASE !” you’re a couple drinks in and already rambling about the night’s events. you open your mouth to continue and gasp, clasping your hand over your mouth before you can let another word out.

you turn to the side and feel your face heat up as you realize that you were rambling like an idiot to a man you didn’t know.

“i am so sorry!” you say, obviously embarrassed. you scold yourself in your mind as you lower your head in apology. eren bursts out into laughter as more blood rushes to your face.

“don’t be, you’re cute,” he says waving the bartender down for another drink for you.

“you tryna get me drunk?” you raise your eyebrow feigning suspicion.

“as long as it’ll keep you talkin’. ”he smiles at you. he smiles as if he’s known you forever, and for a split second you forget the circumstances of how you met. you forget that he, a rather lean man with a pair of the coldest eyes you’ve ever seen, chased off a man that could have snapped both yours and his arms clean in half without a second thought, and he did it with nothing but a look. you forget that the name eren sounds familiar. he smiles, and for a split second, you forget that you have horrible taste in men.

here we go the FUCK again.

[fizziedoodle]

dating eren !

as a loving boyfriend lmfao

[prncessjaeger]

cherry ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

olderbf!eren loves you so much! he’d do anything to cater to your needs, no matter what it was. you want the newest prada bag? he bought it. you wanted the newest iphone since it was pink? he bought it. he once bought out your favorite clothing brand’s newest line just because he knew you’d want them. that’s how much he loves you, and let’s not forget when you grace his lap in your newest short miniskirt, cropped tee to match which had him hard as a rock. “rennie look, they have those yoga sets on sale, they have pink, white, black..."

unbeknownst to you just yet, he moved your hips slightly back and forth once, groaning quietly when he felt the imprint of your covered cunt, “so i’m thinking getting pink and black, maybe mix and match them just a bit, you know?” you turned to his face, seeing him breath in sharp intakes, “what’s the matter-oh…oh?” you turned fully around to straddle his lap and eren inhaled yet another sharp breath, 

“you just can’t resist me, huh?” you moved your hips much faster than before, dropping your phone on the cushion next to you and wrapped one arm around his neck, eren doing the same around your waist, “f-fuck, keep going baby,”

he grunted when he felt the warmth of your lips gracing his neck and the other reaching in the waistband of his sweats, your smaller hands rubbing along the shaft of his dick. he moved his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly, and lifted your hips slightly, sliding your panties to the side rubbing your clit softly. you grabbed his hardened cock and tried (and struggled) to fit it insice your warm, puckered hole and toji chuckled, “it’s not funny, eren!”

“it’s okay, hold on for a sec,” your pout was evident on your face and he kissed it, entering 2 fingers inside your cunt and continued to stimulate your clit with his thumb simetameously, “there we go, baby,” your whimpers were soft and whiny, “erennn…more i wan more,”

“you’re so needy, baby,” he grinned, and moved his fingers at a much faster pace, fulfilling your needs and once you were knocked out cold, he grabbed your phone and purchased the three yoga sets, saving you the trouble of just choosing one 🎀

an: if there’s any typos in names or whatever my apologies!!!

[levithestripper]

part two of how the members of the survey corp and marley warriors would train with you

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, marco lives! au, marcel lives! au, suggestive in some areas.

included characters: eren yeager, armin arlert, jean kirstein, marco bodt, connie springer, bertolt hoover, and porco galliard.

length: 3.6k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

part one || part two [you're here!]

request: [anon] Would you be willing to do another part of "how the members of the survey corp and marley warriors would train with you" but with gn!reader winning this time. Maybe it's luck, maybe they cheated (tickles ? Unfair move?), or one time vicrory only ? If you're up for it of course ! Loved it :>

a/n: i loved writing a part two of this for you, nonnie! i hope it's everything you wanted :) if you guys have any other requests for hcs, please send them my way! i find the guys easier to write, so i just did them! and if i didn't include one, it's probably bc the reader already won in p1 or i couldn't think of a scenario for them. if you want me to write for the ones i left out just lemme know :) sorry it took almost a year for me to get to this lmao.

— Eren Yeager

As much as Eren likes to show off and impress you, he still takes training seriously. If he doesn’t take it seriously, how will he get strong enough to achieve his goals? He has gotten rather good at the basics of it, but he still has a lot to polish and work on, just like you, so it makes you two a good pairing. Eren has the wooden prop knife this round, and he’s winning so far. Every time you lunged at him, he’d dodge out of the way, leaving you out of breath and frustrated. You’re all for winning fair and square, but in this instance, you’re not afraid to play dirty to get what you’re after.

“Hey, Eren!” you call out to him, a conniving look spreading across your face. 

He raises an eyebrow at you with suspicion. “What is it?” He stalks you, circling you slowly, watching your every move.

You circle him as well, walking sideways, legs crossing each other. “I heard about your most recent spat with Jean the other day.” Eren doesn’t respond, so you continue with your little scheme. “Connie told me Jean decked you right in the face, giving you a black eye.” You watch as Eren touches his black and blue cheekbone with his free hand. “‘Parently you lost,” you snark. 

“I did not lose to that horse face!” Eren yells at you, gritting his teeth. “Mikasa pulled me off of him before I could defend myself! You know she always does that!”

You smirk at him. He had fallen into your trap, hook, line, and sinker. “Oh yeah? That’s not how Connie told it. He told me—well, told everyone, really—that you laid there and let him win.” You know your boyfriend well, saying the exact things guaranteed to make him snap. “Maybe Jean is better than you at sparring, too.”

That’s the straw that broke the camel’s back. Eren charges at you with all his strength, yelling as he does, giving you precisely what you want. Sidestepping him and sticking out your foot, Eren unceremoniously trips and faceplants in the dirt with a groan. Smugly, you crouch down to pluck the knife from Eren’s grasp. “I win, Ren.”

“Fuck you,” he groans, still facefirst in the dirt. 

You sit crisscross beside him, your expression a mix of a smile and a smirk. “Maybe later.”

Eren looks up at you out of the corner of his eye. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” you tease, giggling. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” Eren’s voice has no malice behind it as he sits up., rubbing the dirt and blood off his face. A rock must’ve scraped him when he fell. You’ll never admit it, but he looks hot with blood trickling down his forehead.

You kiss his dirtied cheek with a soft giggle. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A faint dusting of blush reddened Eren’s already ruddy face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Regardless, he returns the gesture, kissing the tip of your nose. 

— Armin Arlert

The more often you ask Armin to train with you, the more comfortable he gets. He’s less worried about hurting you, as you’ve proved to him that you’re more than capable of holding your own. It’s not that he views you as weak; he just views your safety as his top priority. He pulls his punches but comes at you in full force without you having to insist upon it this time.

Armin isn’t the best fighter, but he still puts up a good fight. You have the prop knife this round, and you’re winning. He may not have the brute strength of Reiner or Eren, but instead, he uses his brain to fight, aiming primarily for your legs and remaining defensive. All his efforts are for naught, as you’ve pinned him in the blink of an eye. Armin yields to you, just like he had in the past rounds.

“You win again,” Armin says with a smile, accepting your outstretched hand, and you pull him to his feet once more. “I lasted longer this time, though!”

You return his smile with a squeeze of your hand. “We’re both improving, aren’t we?” Armin nods. The sun has started its descent below the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful orange color. You tilt your head up to look at it. “It’s getting late. We better get going to catch a shower before suppertime.”

Armin nods again with a hum. “You know, it’ll be quicker if we shower together.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tease, turning to walk with him towards the showers. 

“Mhmm,” he smirks. To imaginary onlookers, Armin looks like he’s innocently messing with you, but the glimmer in his eyes tells you his perceived innocence is merely a facade.

— Jean Kirstein

Winning against Jean is a challenge. You’re both evenly matched in talent, so it comes down to technicalities and skill to beat him. And when that doesn’t work, you resort to playing dirty. Today’s exercise is to wrestle the other to the ground and keep them there until they tap out. Something Jean is excellent at, unfortunately. So you have your work cut out for you.

The two of you were the only ones left in the training yard, the sun setting beyond the trees. Everyone else had gone to shower and change for supper, but you were determined to beat him, even if it meant you’d both sit down for supper in sweaty uniforms. Jean has pinned you twice now, and his victories made him cocky. Perfect. 

It’s the beginning of the round, so you’re circling each other from a small distance away. Jean’s hair is ruffled, giving him an almost disheveled appearance that suits him well. You hate how he still looks good after hours of training. “Say, Jean-bo,” you say with a smirk. 

Your expression tells Jean you’re up to no good, and he isn’t even slightly surprised. “No, no, no, you’re not gonna trick me! Not this time!” 

“Awwww, do you not trust me, Jean-bo? Since when have you so little confidence in me?” you tease.

“You know when!” Jean inches closer to you. 

You shake your head no, feigning innocence. “No, I don’t think I do, Jean-y. Enlighten me, hm?”

Jean waves his hands as he speaks. “Last week, when you got me so worked up, you somehow managed to get me all tied up in my ODM gear!” You giggle at the memory. “Heyy, no laughing at me!”

“I can’t help it! You were hanging upside down!” 

“Only because you spun me around and twisted my lines!” Jean exclaims, eyes fiery. “Captain Levi made me run laps ‘till I dropped!”

Your grin is filled with attitude, knowing exactly how to effectively press Jean’s buttons and irritate him. You watch as he stalks closer and closer to you. He watches you closely, eyeing you up and down. You imagine he’s trying to piece together whatever you’re planning. Having fallen to your schemes more than he’d care to admit, Jean’s learned not to underestimate you. But you still have a few tricks left up your sleeve that Jean hasn’t cracked just yet.

“I bet it was hard coming back and finding out our superiors surprised us with meat for dinner, too,” you snark. Unbeknownst to Jean, the squad captains promptly changed their minds when Sasha practically launched herself into the ceiling. There are nail marks left over to prove it. 

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “You didn’t even save me any, either!” 

You answer by sticking your tongue out at him, playing innocent. You let him get within grappling range, his actions playing right into your evil plans. He quickly knocks you on your ass, giving Jean an easy win if he can keep you there. But his frustration made him sloppy, leaving holes in his attack for you to latch onto and exploit. 

Turning the tables, you slide out from below him and kick Jean’s legs out from underneath him. You straddle his waist before he has the chance to retaliate, pinning his arms behind his back, rendering him immobile. “I win, Jean-bo,” you grin with a laugh, reveling in the glory of your success.

“You only won because I let you!” he argues, face flushing red.

You chuckle at his reaction. “I won because you got sloppy, Jean-y.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, but he holds no resentment against you. “Not my fault I got sloppy; you were goading me!”

“Not my fault you fell for it!”

Jean huffs. “Will you let me up now?”

“Maybe. I think I deserve something for winning, don’t you agree, Jean-bo?” you tease.

He does his best to look at you from the corner of his eye. “If you don’t let me up, you won’t get any kisses. How’s that for your prize, idiot?” You hurry off him, not eager to discover if Jean would hold true to his threat of withholding kisses from you. Jean stands and dusts off his stained pants, pouting at you cutely with a huff. “If anything, I’m the one who deserves kisses after that.”

You roll your eyes affectionately, but you kiss him anyway. “You’re so dramatic.”

— Marco Bodt 

Marco watches as you approach him, his signature smile plastered across his features. He’s sitting in the mess hall with Jean, helping the slightly shorter man with what appears to be paperwork. Jean looks up from his work when he notices your presence, kicking Marco’s leg with a knowing smirk.

You sit down across from them, mirroring Marco’s smile with a sweet one of your own. “Hey, Marco, Jean.” Jean gives a halfhearted wave. “Whatcha up to?” you ask, leaning over the table to look at the paperwork between them.

“Not much; Jean needed help writing his debrief report, so I offered to help him with it.” Marco looks at you with a stupid amount of affection, so much you can practically see it radiating off him. Since joining the Survey Corps, Marco has let his hair grow out, his bangs falling in his eyes, giving him even more of the boyish cuteness he already possesses. He claims he’ll cut it short again, but you like to believe Marco keeps it long because he knows how much you like it this way. 

“How soon until you guys finish?” 

Jean groans at your question. “Not fucking soon enough. It’s making me wanna rip my hair out.” Marco giggles quietly at his reaction.

“Not long.” He smiles at you, nudging your foot with his. “Something you need?” 

“I was hoping you’d have some free time to spar with me, Marco,” you hum, nudging him back. 

Jean, being the dick he loves to be, makes a gagging sound at the both of you. “C’mon, guys, cut it with the sappy romantic eye fucking, already. Go and spar with them, man; I’ll be fine to finish up on my own.” He sticks his tongue out in fake disgust, hurriedly shooing Marco off the bench.

You roll your eyes with a soft chuckle, taking Marco’s soft hand within your own. He waves goodbye to his friend as he leaves and holds the door open for you as you exit. “What exactly do you want to practice? Anything in particular?” he asks, swinging your arm cutely. 

“Hand to hand, mostly. I practically got my ass handed to me by Reiner the other day, and I don’t want a repeat of it.” As you walk towards the edge of the training yard, the sun is high in the sky, surrounded by a pretty shade of light blue, not a cloud to be seen. “What about you?”

Marco shrugs, happy to go along with whatever you prefer. “Nothing comes to mind. I’m happy with whatever you want to do.”

“Okay,” you smile at him, reaching your destination quickly.

By the time you have Marco on his back and yielding to you, the sun has started to set. You help him up and dust off the dirt from his shirt. “So, you finally have enough?”

Marco nods, exhaustion written all over his face. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem holding your own against Reiner, that’s for sure,” he says tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

— Connie Springer 

Connie loves hanging out with you, even if that means he gets his shit rocked while doing it. He thinks it’s hot when you show off how strong you are, so he’s more than happy to seriously train with you instead of just goofing off.

Today’s training is melee fighting with a rifle. Something Connie hates. He’s never been good with rifles; they’re large and clunky, and he can never get an accurate shot with them during target practice. Sasha’s excellence at it drives him up the wall, so he’s adamant about improving his skills, no matter how much he hates doing it. 

“You gonna keep losin’, or should I start putting in some effort?” you tease, standing upright, holding your rifle diagonally across your chest.

Connie drags himself off the ground, white pants stained brown with dirt and mud. “You’re not gonna be winning for much longer, babe,” he says with an evil-looking grin, not giving you any time to prepare before he lunges at you, thrusting the training bayonet towards your chest. 

“Oh, yeah?” You easily dodge his attack, striking the backs of his thighs in retaliation, earning yourself a yelp of surprise and pain. “Doesn’t seem like it, babe,” Connie growls in frustration, darting behind you to land a blow on the weak points of your knees, making your legs buckle, falling to your knees. 

“You wanna take that back?” He stands over you, pointing the fake bayonet between your shoulder blades.

You turn your head to look at him, returning his smirk. You shift your rifle to your other hand and sweep it in an arch behind you, just barely knocking Connie unstable enough for you to escape the compromising position. With Connie off balance, you return the favor, kicking him in the back of his knees, and he lands flat on his face. “No, I don’t think I will,” you chuckle triumphantly, pinning him there with the heel of your rifle. “Maybe next time, love.”

Connie responds with a groan. “I swear, you and Sasha are conspiring against me.”

“Why, I have no idea what you mean! I’d never do something like that!” It’s clear that you’re lying; you and Sasha get along like a house on fire, so that’s something you both would one hundred percent do just to annoy him. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just let me up, idiot,” Connie grumbles, shifting to lay on his back so his face isn’t in the dirt anymore. 

You hum to yourself, tapping your chin with a finger. “Hmmm, I don’t know, should I? I kinda like seeing you underneath me like this.”

Connie’s face flushes a deep shade of red. You notice his pants have tightened slightly, and you move the heel of the rifle to sit just below his belt. “Shut up.”

“What if I don’t want to? What then?” 

“Then I won’t share my dessert with you,” he goads.

You sigh defeatedly and help Connie up. “Dessert tonight better be good.”

Connie kisses the corner of your mouth, holding your free hand in his. “Maybe you’ll get two desserts.”

“Oh? I do like the sound of that,” you smirk, properly kissing him back this time. You hear Jean yell in disgust, and you both flip him the bird.

— Bertolt Hoover

“Are you sure you want to keep going? It’s dark out!” Bertolt whines, looking utterly exhausted. 

“I just wanna get this trick right!” you reply, sweat dripping down your forehead. 

He sighs. “You know I love you, but wouldn’t you fare better if you weren’t this tired?”

You ball your hands into fists and position them like Annie does. “Just one more time, Bertl, please?” you plead, and he caves quicker than you expected him to.

“Just one more, then we’re headed inside, okay?” 

You nod in agreement, and Bertolt rushes toward you. You angle your body so your side faces him. You lift your arm and fold it so your wrist touches your shoulder. When Bertolt reaches you, you grab his sleeve and pull his arm longways across your folded one, and you turn your body again so your back is flush against his chest. In the blink of an eye, you’ve got Bertolt off the ground and over your shoulder, quickly throwing the taller man to the ground. It knocks the breath out of him, but you both have a smile on your face despite it.

Between heaving breaths, Bertolt congratulates you. “You did it! Finally!”

“Finally!” You collapse beside him in a fit of giggles, ecstatic that you’ve finally gotten the hang of the move you’ve been trying to learn all day. “I’m so tired, Bertl.”

“I tried to tell you that, love.” He smiles at you sweetly. “But you had to do it one more time,” Bertolt says with a chuckle, kissing your sweaty forehead. 

“Oh, shush,” you giggle again and kiss his nose in return. “You like training with me.”

Bertolt’s tan skin darkens with a flush of red across his cheekbones. “Never said I didn’t, honey.” He kisses your forehead again. “Let’s go take a shower, yeah?” 

You nod, groaning as you sit up. As the adrenaline fades away, you begin to feel the toll the training had on your poor muscles. Everything is sore and vaguely hurts, making you even more eager for the boiling hot shower in your near future. “The baths should be empty by now, so we can take one together if you like.” Your words cause Bertolt’s blush to worsen, only serving to make you giggle again. “You’re so cute, y’know.”

“Shut up,” he whines, hiding his face from your watchful eyes. “Let’s just go take a shower, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” you grin, kissing the backs of his hands before standing up. You offer him a hand, which he accepts, even though he most likely doesn’t need assistance. “I hope there’s extra food left over from supper.” 

Bertolt keeps his hand within yours as you walk back to the bathhouse. “Probably not. You know how Sasha gets.”

“I can always try to bribe one of the cooks. They love me,” you say as your grin widens with a cute smugness.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “They’re gonna stop loving you if you keep pestering them for extra food like this, love.”

“Impossible.” You open the door to the bathhouse, but like the gentleman he is, Bertolt holds it so you can walk inside first.

— Porco Galliard

When he’s training with you, Porco’s cockiness is oftentimes the reason for his downfall as well. He knows you’re also an excellent soldier and fighter, but that doesn’t matter to him when he’s determined to beat your ass into the dirt. But that also gives you a slight advantage as well. He doesn’t underestimate you per se, but he does think he’s hot shit, which opens up plenty of opportunities for you to get him angry, then beat him at his own game once he’s let his guard down. 

“Hey, Pock,” you grin at him while he cocks a suspicious eyebrow at you. 

“What?” he questions between panting breaths. “You trying to talk your way outta this ‘cause you’re afraid of losin’ again?” Sweat drips off his chin and down his neck, making him look stupidly attractive, at least more than should be allowed for this situation.

You smirk at him. “No, dummy. I was just gonna say you look hot, but I guess you don’t wanna hear it,” you say with a shrug, watching to see if your plan works, which it does. 

Porco’s brain lags for a few seconds, giving you all the time you need to dart behind him and wrap him in a headlock. Porco yells and claws at your forearm, but you only tighten your grip on him, forcing him to either struggle or surrender. “You cheated, asshole!” he curses you out, gritting his teeth as he fruitlessly tries to break free of your hold.

“Not my fault you fell for it,” you snark back, teasingly tightening your arm around his throat. “You should’ve kept up a stronger guard, Pocky.”

“God, don’t call me Pocky. Pock is bad enough,” he groans, his short-cropped nails leaving little crescent marks in the meat of your forearm. His words say he’s angry, but the way he’s pressing against your front tells you otherwise. 

You rest your chin on his free shoulder, digging your chin into it just to fuck with him more than you already were. “Oh? You don’t like it? But it’s so cute, Pocky.” 

Porco growls at you with frustration, but he stops trying to escape your grip. “If I yield, will you stop calling me that?”

“Maybe,” you giggle, drawing out the ‘A’ sound. “Only if I get to brag to Marcel about beating you.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, ensuring you know of his despair. “You and your demands are gonna kill me one day, and I’ll enjoy the silence I get from being free of your nagging.”

You pout cutely, but unfortunately, Porco couldn’t see it. “That’s such a long way to tell me you love me, Pocky.”

“Mmm, I wonder why,” he snarks, swallowing thickly. “Will you let me go now?”

“Can I brag to Marcel about your crushing defeat?”

Porco groans dramatically. “Fine, you can brag to him, I guess.” You pepper his cheek with kisses before you free him. “I’m never hearing the end of this from either of you, am I?” 

“Nope!” you giggle, kissing his cheek again before backing away.

taglist: @myglitteringstardust, @alicchis-badonkadonks (sorry if this isn’t you, it’s the only blog that popped up when i typed in the user from my taglist form), @nxuvillette, @killeva, @aestosia, @aangze, and @fantasy-and-love.