personal library

~~~

It was a dark and windy night on October 31st. What a cliche. Y/N thought to herself as she walked down the winding road that led to her home. Taking a swig from the alcohol that was not so expertly covered by a brown paper bag, she slowly placed one foot in front of the other, balancing herself on the curb like she was being tested to see how drunk she was.

“I’m not that drunk.” She murmured to herself, as she, in her opinion, expertly balanced herself on the raised sidewalk. Y/N would just ignore how she slipped onto the street a second after. At least she had caught herself, before she plummeted onto the shining concrete. The streetlamps above illuminated the proof that it had rained recently, as it reflected golden light from the small pools of water that scattered the ground. She didn’t even have to look up to see the night sky since it reflected the world around her. That made her walk all the more easier, she could keep her sight trained on her feet without missing anything, all while keeping an upright position.

Okay, maybe she was drunker than she thought. The few drinks she had at Jean’s Halloween party had already caused warmth to flood her stomach. Giddiness had settled into her bones after the second homemade cocktail, so maybe she should have stopped there. And maybe it was overkill to buy a bottle of spirits at the gas station on the walk home from Jean’s. But Y/N had been in a good mood. She wanted to keep the fun going, even when everyone else was already passed out on the various surfaces of Jean’s home. Y/N wished she was one of those people, who can just pass out at someone else’s home and be comfortable as it was. But the desperate need to be in her own bed had overcome any other desire in that moment. And besides, she only lived five blocks away. She knew she could make that walk. She would just have to deal with Jean’s wrath later, when he inevitably wakes up to find that his friend had walked home in the dark all alone.

Though it’s not like Jean needed to worry, Y/N was already at the end of her street. She pulled out her phone, tapping the screen so that the soft blue light washed over her features. With one eye closed shut, in an effort to keep the numbers on her phone to stop dancing, she registered the time.

12:04

She had made it back home in less than half an hour. A new personal record, considering it was after one of the more rambunctious parties that her friends would often throw. Y/N smiled to herself as she reminisced on her friends' antics, unlocking her front door as she did.

Taking another sip from her bottle and wincing as it burned down her throat, she tossed her keys into the bowl by the door and moved down the hallway. Y/N kicked off her shoes, leaving them haphazardly in the middle of the floor, and then moved into the living room, where she promptly flopped onto the velvet couch. As she sat there her eyes wandered around her living space.

It might be strange for some, to see a girl in her early twenties living in a two story, suburban home on her own. But when your estranged grandmother passes away and mysteriously leaves you the house that she was subleasing to strangers, you take what you can get. Especially when that meant living somewhere for free.

Y/N wasn’t sure why her grandmother chose her to have the house. But she assumed it was because everyone else in the family hated the old woman. The girl only ever met her grandmother as a baby, so it was pretty tough to base judgements on a woman that you never even knew. She supposed that her grandmother must have understood that. So she gave her second home away to the only person in her family who didn’t have any specific hatred towards her.

So now, here Y/N sat, in a home that she had been living in for only four months. It wasn’t a bad home, everything was up to date and it rested in a fairly nice neighborhood. Though it was obviously decorated by an old person. Which made the home far more creepy than it needed to be. Not that Y/N minded; she actually kind of like the old victorian style that the house represented. It was her friends that always complained about the cold lasting chill that plagued their bodies the second they walked inside.

Y/N liked to think that this style suited her, though she kind of wished that she had the funds to at least update some of the furniture. She realized right then that she had the rest of her life to save up and do so, since this home was now hers.

Thud.

That is if she were welcome here. Y/N threw her head back with a soft groan when she heard the thump of an item falling down from the shelf that stood on the back wall of her living room. Again? She thought to herself, as she twisted herself in her seat. Though she didn’t know why she did. Y/N knew exactly what fell from the shelf, since it was the same item every time. A small wooden box that no matter how hard she tried, the girl could never open.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she pushed herself up from the couch. With each footstep towards the box, the wood beneath her feet creaked, the sound echoing into the night. Yet another detail about her house that her friends detested, and another that Y/N couldn’t care less about. She crouched down on her knees, picking up the box and examined the smooth mahogany that lay under her fingertips. Throughout the whole time she had been living in this house, her unlikely companion seemed to be enamored with this object. Sure, the ghost had flickered a few lights, and caused a few of the floorboards to creak as it wandered through the house, but this little box seemed to be what the enigma was interested in the most.

As she observed the box, the lights above her head flickered on and off. And though she usually didn’t engage with the ghost (mostly out of fear that it would possess her), the alcohol in her system had released all her inhibitions. Before she knew it, she had opened her mouth.

“I’m not scared of you, you know.” Y/N called out into the empty house. There was no response, of course, and she could’ve left it at that, but she was drunk, and she kind of wanted solid proof that the ghost was real. “You can stop messing with whatever this thing is, you have my attention.”

As she placed the small wooden box back on the shelf, she thought she might’ve heard a slight creak in one of the floorboards. But who’s to say that wasn’t the house shifting, it had been a very windy night. Y/N looked around the room, hoping that by some trick of the light she’d see a figure in the corner, or catch another item falling from the shelf. But alas, there was nothing, and she was alone.

Her gaze flitted over the furniture in the room, only stopping when her eyes landed on a rectangular box that sat forgotten on one of the side tables that stood against the wall. It was the Ouija board that her friend, Mikasa, had bought her as a joke after one of the many instances that alluded to the fact that this house might be haunted. Y/N had left the box unopened, obviously not wanting to mess with it. But now she was intrigued, and she wanted to know more.

A moment later, she had the board set up on the coffee table, the planchette sat idly in the center of the board. Y/N took a deep breath as she placed herself in front of it, sitting on her knees. She had considered lighting candles to set the mood, but then thought that it might be too dramatic for whatever it was. Besides, this might not even work.

Y/N shook her head, she had to get into the right mindset if she wanted to figure out the truth. It will work. It has to. She gently placed her fingertips on the planchette, giving herself a moment to take another deep breath before she spoke.

“Are there any spirits in this house?” She asked, cringing inwardly, she felt like she was in one of those cheesy ghost hunting shows where they freak out at the slightest sound. But she didn’t know what else to say. Might as well start with the basics.

When there was proven to be no answer from the ghost, she tried again.

“Are you good or evil?” Y/N questioned, though it might’ve been a dumb question. Was she expecting Casper the friendly ghost? Or perhaps the devil? If there was anyone else living in this house, it was probably some unfortunate soul who was doomed to wander the land of the living for all eternity. There was no good or evil, the ghost was just… there. Trying to get by. Or at least that's what it seemed like from the interactions the girl had with it. And, anyways, it seemed like the ghost was shy, or maybe not there at all, as she still garnered no response.

“This is stupid.” Y/N said to herself, shaking her head. She pushed the board away from her, and removed herself from the floor. Finding her spot on the couch, she closed her eyes to gage how she was feeling. Apparently, she hadn’t gotten drunk enough to have the spins, so that was good. In fact, she could feel the buzz of alcohol slip away, replacing itself with a slight headache. Great, she hadn’t even gone to bed yet and she was already plagued with a hangover. Y/N sat up straight, deciding that she would need water and some Advil if she wanted to get through this. But as she did, a slight chill ran over her form. Or maybe more than a chill as she practically shivered from the sudden drop of temperature. She sat still in her spot, wrapping her arms around herself to try and savor her body heat. Her eyes traveled along the walls of the room again, she had the unnerving suspicion that she wasn’t alone.

“Boo.” A deep voice sounded out right beside her ear. The blood curdling scream that erupted from her lips was loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood. She stood from her spot, and with her hand pressed against her chest in an effort to cease the incessant beating of her heart, she whipped around and her eyes landed on a man. A man, who was leaning over her couch, his eyes wide with shock from her reaction.

“What are you doing in my house?” She yelled, taking a couple steps back and making sure not to trip over her coffee table as she tried to create distance between her and this unknown stranger. No, not stranger, intruder. Y/N needed a weapon. Her eyes jumped towards the fireplace, and she made her way across the room to grab one of the pokers that was hanging on the wrought iron fireplace screen. She held it out in front of her so that he couldn’t get any closer without suffering at least a little damage.

“Wait… You can see me?” He asked, as he stood up straight, ignoring how she was frantically moving around the room to find a weapon. He started to step out from around the couch, Y/N raised the poker higher with defense.

“Of course, I can see you!” She spat, her eyes trained on him so she could predict his moves. And this gave her a chance to really see him. For someone that was trying to rob this place he was dressed fairly… casually. All he wore was a black Ramone’s tee and blue jeans, held up by a black leather belt. He didn’t even cover his face, which Y/N thought was a rookie mistake in crime 101. But then again, getting a closer look at it now, with a face like that who would ever want to cover it up? Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized how attractive he was. With his long brunette hair tied back into a half-up hairstyle, she got a good look at his face. His features were strong, and stoic as he looked at her with confusion. His piercing teal eyes caused her to shiver, and his pink lips were forming words that she was definitely not listening to due to the aforementioned realization of his good looks. She shook her head as she brought herself back to reality.

“—able to see me?” She only caught the last few words of his sentence, but from what she could gather he was still very confused on how she was able to see him. Y/N thought that this was a strange question to ask considering he was standing right there in her living room.

“I can see you because you’re in my house!” She retorted, gripping the poker tighter, “How did you get in here?”

“I’ve always been here.” He shrugged, taking a step closer to her. Y/N held the poker higher, threatening him with the fact that she wasn’t afraid to use violence. The man glanced down at her weapon, a slight smirk graced his handsome features, and soon deep laughter escaped his lips. Y/N tried to ignore how she kind of liked the sound.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N snapped, her eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“That weapon of yours isn’t going to be very useful.” He told her, gesturing to the item in her hands.

“I beg to differ.” She retorted. But the man just scoffed, suddenly moving towards her. Y/N stood frozen in her spot as he advanced towards her. Watching in horror as she was afraid what might happen next, she braced herself to use her weapon against him. But then the strangest thing happened. Y/N was sure that he would stop right in front of her, wrench the weapon free from her hands and attack her. But he kept walking. He kept moving forward until the end of the poker was directly in his chest. Y/N would’ve screamed, if she had just witnessed a man murder himself with the weapon she was holding, but there wasn’t any blood. The sharp edge didn’t puncture any skin. It went straight through him. As if he were made of air.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispered as her eyes trained on his chest (which was very muscular, but she shouldn’t be thinking about that at a time like this).

“Now are you getting it?” He asked, and Y/N raised her eyes to meet his. He was looking at her as if this was supposed to be simple. Like it was normal for items to just go through you like you were made of nothing.

“You’re… a ghost?” Y/N asked, feeling silly for even having to say it out loud. But there was no other explanation for how this was happening before her eyes.

“Right on the money.” He grinned, tapping his nose and pointing at her as if they were playing a game of charades.

“But… How is this possible? How can I see you?” Y/N questioned, dropping the weapon to her side. She saw how the ghost shivered as the poker ran through his body, indicating that he at least felt something from the thing that was previously sticking straight through his chest.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to ask you, if you had been listening.” He said, the tone in his voice was slightly annoyed.

“How am I supposed to know? I’ve never seen a ghost in my life.” Y/N retorted. The man nodded his head as he contemplated her words. His eyes searched the room until they landed on her set up on the coffee table.

“Maybe it has to do with the fact that you were trying to talk to me.” He said as he moved closer to the table, eyeing the Ouija board with suspicion. “You know, tonight was the first time you ever talked to me. I was beginning to think you hated me.”

He attempted to joke, but there was something in his sentence that caught her attention.

“Wait, you’re the ghost that’s been messing with my things?” Y/N accused. The ghost raised an eyebrow at her.

“I thought that was obvious, since you finally decided to talk to me after all these months of living together.”

“Living together? It’s not like we’re roommates, this is my house.” Y/N told him, to which he responded with more soft laughter.

“I’ve been living in this house since 2001, I’d argue that this is my house.” The man responded, “Or at least, I was renting it since 2001, but I guess that ended when I… You know.”

Y/N’s eyebrows knitted together as she did the math in her head. He was renting this house in 2001? That's around the time she was born. And he looked to be around her age. There was no way he could rent this place if he was a baby.

“Wait.. how old are you?” Y/N asked him.

“Twenty-one.” The ghost replied, “Though technically, I’m supposed to be forty. That’s the beauty of dying at a young age. Eternal youth.”

Y/N grew quiet at his words. Though he was obviously making light of his situation, Y/N couldn’t help but feel sad for him. He was so young. He had a whole life ahead of him and it was ripped away from him so easily. She herself, had only just turned twenty-two, she couldn’t even imagine how hard it is to lose your life so young.

“Don’t look at me like that, Y/N, I hate when people feel sorry for me.” He murmured, His shoulders were tense as he grew uncomfortable from the obvious sadness that was radiating from the girl.

“I’m sorry, it’s just— Wait, how do you know my name?” Y/N asked, forgetting that she was just pitying the man. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion.

“When you live with someone for four months, you happen to learn their name.” He retorted.

“Well that’s unfair. I don’t know your name.” She replied.

“How was I supposed to tell you when you couldn’t even see or hear me until now?” The man argued, and Y/N shut her mouth at that. Fair point.

“You could tell me now.” She said softly. The ghost looked at her, with slight surprise in his irises. Maybe he was shocked that the girl wanted to know who he was.

“Eren.” He responded, with the same softness to his tone. He never thought that he would ever get the chance to introduce himself to anyone else ever again. The fact that Y/N stood in front of him now, staring at him with those alluring eyes, had him dumbfounded. It was all he’s ever wanted for the past four months of him getting to know her. The one resident in this house that he actually had an interest in, and she was the one to finally notice him. Eren couldn’t believe his luck.

Y/N cleared her throat, a bit unnerved that he was just staring at her while he went through his inner turmoil. This pulled him out of his thoughts, and he quickly turned away from her, wandering around the room.

“So… why do you think you can finally see me?” Eren questioned, as he moved around her furniture. Not that he needed to, he could walk right through it if he wanted. But it was the principle of the matter. And he didn’t want to be rude.

At Eren’s question, Y/N immediately thought of Beetlejuice, how Lydia Deetz says that live people ignore the strange and unusual. “I myself am strange and unusual.” She quoted to herself, in her mind. Though she never really considered herself strange or unusual. Y/N was just… normal. She was herself. There seemed to be no real explanation as to why she could see him.

“I’m not sure,” She told him, as she watched him observe the items on her shelf. He stopped in front of the mahogany box. “I think, maybe, it’s just pure luck.”

Eren turned to look at her, and she stilled under the bright teal of his gaze. Those eyes seemed to be very dangerous for her health.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He smiled at her. Y/N returned his smile and the two just stood there for a moment, looking at each other. At that moment, Y/N felt like she had known him this whole time. Well, maybe she did, since everything she’s been through in this house was directly caused by him. For some reason, it was a comfort to know that it was Eren messing with that box on the shelf.

“Why are you so interested in that box?” She asked, moving next to him, she shivered at his proximity. Though she wasn’t sure if it was because of his ghostly coldness or something else.

“It’s mine.” Eren told her as he moved to touch it, but his fingers sank right through the surface. “I left it here when I died. I’m thinking it has to do with my unfinished business.”

Y/N raised a brow at that, “You really think you’re here because of some unfinished business? I didn’t think that was real.”

“Hey, neither did I but I’m here aren’t I?” Eren chuckled, he moved to touch the box again and this time he didn’t sink through, from his touch, the box fell to the floor. Just like it always did.

“I don’t understand why it does that.” Eren said, looking down at the unassuming box that laid on the floor. Y/N bent over to pick it up. A small fit of jealousy flipped through his stomach as she so easily closed her fingers around the box. Though he ignored it. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that he wasn’t able to touch things as easily as her. “Most of the time, I go right through it. But then there are those moments where I go to touch it, and it actually does something.”

“Well it has to mean something, right?” Y/N told him, looking over at him. His stomach flipped when their gazes connected. “If you’re able to touch it, even if it’s just to knock it over, I think it actually does have to do with your unfinished business.”

“That makes sense.” Eren nodded, as he shifted his eyes back to the box in her hand. He wasn’t sure he could handle staring Y/N in her eyes any longer. Which was strange considering he was usually more confident when it came to girls. Figures that the first girl he meets where he actually feels something towards her is on a whole different plane of existence. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to being stared at. You know, because of the whole ‘dead’ thing. He liked that idea a little better. It was more fair to his heart.

“What’s in this box anyways?” Y/N then asked, distracting Eren from his thoughts, “I’ve tried opening it, like, a thousand times, but it won’t budge.”

“Maybe that’s because you shouldn’t be snooping in other people's stuff.” Eren joked, earning an eye roll from the girl. He grinned at her annoyance at him, knowing that it was all in good fun. And Eren realized how great it felt to be joking around with someone again. He genuinely missed this part of life.

“You’re one to talk.” She laughed, and she was about to elbow his side for being such a smart ass, but then stopped her movements when she remembered she would just go right through him. “Seriously though, what’s so special about this thing?”

“I don’t know.” Eren shrugged, “My dad gave it to me before he died. We didn’t really have… the best relationship. So, I guess I was just afraid to know what was in it.”

Y/N nodded, not letting herself ask the questions that were on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t really her place to try and pry into his personal life. So instead she settled for an easier question, one that she knew he would be able to answer without any emotional turmoil.

“Do you know how to open it?” She asked. Eren nodded, lifting his hand to scoop his fingers into the top of his shirt, a second later he procured an old vintage looking key that was attached to his necklace. He held it out between them and Y/N moved her fingers to touch it, but of course, her hand just fell through into empty air.

“It’s not the real key, dummy.” He chuckled as he let the necklace fall back against his chest. “The real one’s attached to my decomposing corpse, six feet underground. And unless you want to be arrested for grave robbing, I suggest we leave it there.”

“What else can we do?” Y/N asked, ignoring the comment about his dead body that lay in a grave somewhere. She didn’t really want to think about that.

“There’s not really anything we can do.” Eren shrugged. Y/N watched as he moved away from her. How he wandered back out into the living room. Suddenly an overwhelming feeling of guilt washed over Y/N’s form. She wished there was a way for her to help him. It must be horrible, being trapped in this house. With no one to talk to and nothing to do. The gears in her head started turning as she thought of ways to help him. A moment later, a metaphorical light bulb went off above her head.

“Do you want me to break it open?” Y/N asked, gaining the attention of Eren. His eyes lit up with excitement.

“Y/N! You’re a genius.” He exclaimed, causing laughter to bubble out of her lips. Eren wanted to reach out and hug her, to spin her around to show her how grateful he was. But he couldn’t, so he settled for grinning at her.

“Okay! I think I have a hammer somewhere around here.” Y/N told him, as she moved out of the living room and into the kitchen. He quickly followed behind her.

The girl stopped in front of the kitchen sink, getting down on her knees so she could search through the contents that resided under her sink. Eren averted his gaze as she did, because she happened to be wearing a very revealing dress.

Earlier that evening, when Eren had seen what she was wearing before she went out for the night, he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. Which shouldn’t even be possible, considering his heart had fully stopped the moment he died. But it’s not like his body wouldn’t have a reaction to her. Especially since the dress hugged her curves in all the right ways. From the time that he had lived with her, it had never been a secret that the girl was attractive. When she showed up that very first day, suitcases in tow, Eren immediately knew that she would be trouble. The instant attraction he felt towards her was palpable.

One time, he even caught her leaving the bathroom with the tiniest towel he had ever seen wrapped around her form. It was an accident of course, because he tries to steer clear of her whenever she does anything remotely intimate. But the sight had caused an instant reaction. And it was nice to know that some… parts of him still worked the way they used to. He wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but he was thankful that the universe had thrown him a bone (no pun intended). Being able to relieve himself in that way again was the best thing to ever happen to him. That was until tonight, when her eyes had finally found him.

“Here it is!” Y/N said, taking Eren away from his perverted thoughts, which he thought was a good thing, since he couldn’t do much about his attraction to her anyways. The girl stood from the floor, a tool box held in her hands.

The two of them moved over to the counter, where she had left the small wooden box upon entering the kitchen. From the tool box, she retrieved a hammer and a screwdriver. Eren watched curiously, as she wedged the flat edge of the screw driver into the seam of the box. Her arm went up, as she prepared to hammer the screwdriver into the box in order to break it open. But just as she was about to swing, Eren stopped her.

“Stop.” He quickly blurted, he wasn’t exactly sure why he stopped her. But something in that moment told him he wasn’t quite ready for his time on this earth to end.

Y/N looked over at Eren, and saw what looked to be fear in his eyes. He wasn’t ready. And though she wanted to help him get this over with, it wasn’t her place to rush him. So she gently placed the hammer on the marble counter.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and Eren just looked at her, a bashful expression covering his features.

“Um, yeah.” Eren said, though she didn’t really believe him, “Is it alright if we wait on this? I think I need to prepare myself.”

Y/N smiled at him, her expression softening as he revealed his reasoning to him stopping her.

“That’s fine.” She told him, and Eren’s worries seemed to melt away at her comforting tone. “Is there anything you want to do, before you go?”

Eren wracked his mind as he tried to think of something. Though everything he wanted to do was impossible since he couldn’t touch anything. Eren supposed that there was only one thing he could do.

“Could we maybe just talk? It’s been awhile since I’ve had a conversation with anyone.” He offered, his tone was unsure, like maybe she wouldn’t want to talk to him. Y/N found that to be quite endearing as he tested the waters with her.

“I’d love to talk.” She grinned, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

The two of them talked for what seemed like hours, though it had only been forty-five minutes. Y/N had learned so much about him already, and everything she learned only made her want to know more. Eren was born in 1981. He had an older brother whose wife was pregnant with baby number two. He told her that he loved being an uncle. He told her about his favorite books and his favorite songs. And he told her that he didn’t really have an interesting life, but from the stories that he had she knew that he was lying. Eren was quite the adventurer. Even at his young age, Eren had already been all across the world. The minute he graduated high school he had traveled far and wide. In the short three years between graduation and the day he died, he had already been to fifteen different countries. Which was more than Y/N could say. The only reason he had to come back and live in the house that they were sitting in now, was because his father was forcing him to go to school, rather than waste his time doing nothing. Y/N wholeheartedly disagreed with Eren’s father, saying that gaining life experience and meeting new people all across the world was not a time waster. This made Eren like her even more than he already did. He couldn’t help but grin at her, his eyes shining, as she went off on her rant. Though she stopped very abruptly when she realized that he was staring.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N chuckled awkwardly, taking a sip from the water she had gotten herself before they sat down on the floor of the kitchen to talk (which they had to do once they realized he wasn’t able to sit on the stools that stood next to her counter).

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Eren argued, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. Y/N quirked her head to the side as she observed him. Did he even have any blood in his system to make that happen? Though as she looked at his tinted features, she realized it was sort of a lame imitation of what actually happens to a human being when they blush. It had a gray tint to it.

“Sure you are,” Y/N responded, continuing the conversation before she got too distracted by the anatomy of a ghost. “You probably get off on watching me, creep.”

Eren knew she was just teasing him from the way she grinned at him and the joking tone in her voice. But she didn’t even realize the truth behind her words (even if they were harsher than he would have put it). How could he not like watching her? Okay, that definitely sounded creepy. But it wasn’t like he was watching Y/N while she was in the shower or getting changed. He just happened to catch her in her everyday life. And he also happened to like how she looked when she was reading a book, or making dinner, or even dancing to the loud music she blasted when she thought no one was watching. Every time he saw her in these moments, he so desperately wanted to join her.

In his head he had these fantasies. He thought about the ways she could talk for hours about her favorite books to him, how he could offer her his own insight and how her smile would grow when she realized she finally met someone who also appreciated the same type of literature she did. Or how he could help her in the kitchen as she made his favorite meal. He could reach the spices that were placed on the shelves that were too tall for her to reach. He could wrap his arms around her waist as she stood at the stove, trying not to burn whatever was in the pan. Or he could dance with her and take her in his arms and twirl her around until she was a mess of laughter.

He had found out about his very unrequited crush about a month into living with her. He thought the universe was cruel for placing him in this house with her, and she couldn’t even see him. She didn’t even know she was there. Until now.

“You probably get off knowing that you’re being watched,” Eren retorted, trying to get back to the conversation without feeling the sadness in his heart every time he realized he could never be with her. “If anybody’s a creep, it’s you.”

“I didn’t even know you were here until tonight!” She laughed incredulously, and Eren’s chest bloomed with warmth since he was finally the direct cause of her laughter.

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Eren said, “You had to know I was here or else you wouldn’t be moaning as loud as you do every night.”

Eren stilled as he realized what he had just said. Y/N’s jaw dropped, heat ran to her cheeks and she quickly covered her face so she wouldn’t have to deal with Eren’s burning stare.

“You watch me when I touch myself?” She accused through her fingers, and though she sounded angry, and she kind of was angry, but she couldn’t help the warmth that pooled into her panties at the thought. Meanwhile, Eren was scrambling as he got up on his knees.

“No! No, I don’t watch you when you…” Eren shook his head before he said the words, in fear for when he did, something else would show up to the party. “You just happen to be very vocal when you do. And the walls are pretty thin, I could practically hear your vibrator from the basement.”

“Oh my god!” Y/N shrieked at the mention of her sex toy, and Eren cursed at himself for not knowing when to shut his fat mouth. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Eren told her, and he really wished he could reach out and remove the hands from her face so she could see how serious he was. “It’s only natural, right? And besides, you didn’t know I was even here, you didn’t think anyone was listening.”

“But still, I probably made you so uncomfortable.” Y/N shuddered into her palms. And Eren’s heart melted at the thought that she was thinking about his comfort rather than her own.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” Eren shook his head, even though he knew she couldn’t see. Y/N peaked between her fingers, to see that the blush was now back over his cheeks.

“You weren’t?” She asked, finally brave enough to let her hands fall back into her lap.

“No, I actually thought that it was…” Eren stopped himself, finally knowing when to shut up. But Y/N was now curious to what he thought.

“You thought that it was what?” Y/N asked, peering up at him through her eyelashes. Eren swallowed hard.

“I thought that it was hot.” He chuckled, nervously, and Y/N felt like her whole entire body was on fire from the husky tone in his voice at the mention of his arousal towards her. The thought that he found her noises to be attractive had caused her stomach to flip. As they were talking, she thought that she was the only one who was attracted to him, seeing as he wasn’t alive. But now that he told her the truth about his reaction to her night time routine, she thought that maybe that’s not the case. Eren held her stare as she processed this in her mind. His eyes were drawn to her lips as she pulled her bottom one between her teeth. He held back a groan as her chest rose and fell with slow heavy breaths. Eren knew that she must be thinking something dangerous.

“And you never snuck in to watch?” Y/N suddenly asked him, which pulled his attention back up to her eyes. Pure curiosity was held within her irises.

“I wanted to give you your privacy.” He shrugged, “Besides, I’m not the creep that you make me out to be.”

Y/N chuckled at his words, though her heart was pounding. Partly because she had never met a man who was this considerate. If it were any other ghost that haunted this house, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have the luxury of privacy like she had with Eren. Figures, the first decent guy she’s met was dead. It’s not like she even had a chance with the man. Especially since at the end of the night, she would help him pass to the other side. Though for some reason that little detail didn’t keep her from at least trying. That was the other reason why her heart was pounding in her chest and ringing in her ears.

“Do you want to watch?” Y/N heard herself say, and she couldn’t believe that she did. Never in her life had she been so bold, and she wanted to shrink away in embarrassment. But she didn’t. Y/N held onto Eren’s stare and noticed how his jaw went slack.

“Right now?” Eren stammered, and he could’ve lost his mind with the way Y/N slowly nodded at him. Was she really going to let him watch her touch herself? It was all he ever dreamed about from the first moment he heard her through the walls, and she was actually letting him into her private room to do so. She didn’t need to ask him twice before he was already standing. She laughed as he so eagerly stood up from his spot.

Eren held out his hand to help her up and when she reached to take it there was the cruel reminder that they could never touch as her fingers slipped right through him. The two of them ignored the melancholy feeling that took hold of the atmosphere, and Y/N stood on her own. Instead they focused on the matter at hand, as they moved upstairs where they both knew her bedroom was.

It took them no time at all to make it to her room. They now stood, facing each other in front of her bed, and with the way Y/N was looking at him, Eren so desperately wanted to reach out and kiss her. To touch her and make her feel good. She deserved to feel good. If only he was given the chance to do so.

But for now, she was letting him in on her most intimate practice. And that was more than he could ever wish for. He watched with bated breath as she slowly removed the straps of her dress from her shoulders. Y/N was obviously teasing him with how painstakingly slow she took to take off her dress. Her hands wandered over her body, smoothing the fabric down against her skin and Eren wondered if she wished they were his hands instead.

He held back a groan when she finally let the silk fabric slip down from her chest, revealing her breasts to him. The image he had in his mind of her naked body paled in comparison to what was in front of him now. Her nipples were already stiff with arousal and his hands were itching to touch them, but he kept them by his sides. As the dress slipped further down her body and revealed more of her soft skin, he could feel how his cock stirred to life and strained against his zipper.

Soon enough, she stood there in front of him clad only in her red panties. She let his eyes wander her whole entire figure, and with just his stare her body felt like it was on fire. She could only imagine what it would be like if he could use his hands. She glanced down at his hands and saw how they were clutched with restraint, the veins protruding through his tan skin. He was holding himself back. Y/N wished she could tell him that he didn’t need to. That he had free reign of her body. But she knew it was no use. Since he would never be able to touch her.

The girl ignored the sad thought and moved onto the bed, she stayed on her hands and knees as she reached into her nightstand to grab her vibrator. Y/N made sure to arch her back, giving Eren a wonderful display of her pussy peeking through her thighs. This time, Eren didn’t hold back the groan that left his lips at the sight of how wet she was. The red fabric of her panties was darkened with her slick and, if it were even possible, he was even harder than he was before.

When she turned around to face him the eruption of butterflies were hard to ignore as she watched him drink in the sight of her on her bed. His irises were darkened with lust and need and she was pretty certain the same look was reflected in her own eyes. The two of them looked at one another as the silence of the night caressed their skin. But after a moment, Y/N finally laid herself on her back, desperate to get started as her clit ached for friction. Y/N rubbed her thighs together as she laid there and Eren watched as she squirmed. He wanted to grab the supple flesh of her thighs and spread herself open for him. He wanted to see everything that he thought he could only see in his metaphorical dreams (since he didn’t need to sleep). But eventually, his torture was ceased as her thighs fell open against the plush surface of her mattress.

Y/N’s hands wandered over her figure once more. Though this time her fingers stopped as she started to pinch at her nipples. She imagined that her fingers were Eren’s instead, or that he was using his teeth to play with the sensitive buds. A soft moan escaped her lips as she did and Eren was sent directly to heaven. Metaphorically, of course, since it seemed like he wasn’t able to get to any other type of paradise. Not that he needed it at that moment. This was the only place he wanted to be right now. Heaven be damned.

Eventually, Y/N’s hands moved from her chest and trailed lightly down her stomach. She traced soft circles against her skin, causing goosebumps to rise against the surface. Though she was pretty sure those goosebumps were there because Eren was watching her. The hungry look in her eyes made her impatient and finally, she let her fingers trace over her clothed center. She shivered as her thumb brushed up against her clit. Another moan filtered out from her lips, but this time it caused Eren’s blood pressure to spike. Because this time, her moans sounded out the syllables of his name. Y/N was calling out to him, she was thinking of him as she did this. It proved to him that she wanted it to be him that was touching her rather than her own hand.

All too suddenly, Y/N hooked her fingers into her panties. Catching Eren, who was still reeling from his name leaving her perfect lips, off guard as she quickly discarded her undergarments. In all of her glory, Eren finally saw how aroused she really was. Her legs were spread wide revealing the way her pussy was glistening against the golden light of her lamp.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.” He murmured, causing the girl to moan at the nickname he suddenly gave her, especially since it sounded so desirable coming from his lips. Y/N rolled her hips against the air, wishing that he was on top of her instead of at the edge of her bed. So in an effort to relieve her desire for him, she guided her fingertips down to her entrance, gathering the wetness that gathered there and bringing it back up to her aching clit, where she rubbed soft circles.

Eren swallowed hard as he watched Y/N touch herself. Her head was thrown back with pleasure as she paid special attention to her clit. Her breathing became shallow as the tension slowly started to build deep inside of her core. She wanted more. No, she was desperate for more, so her hand searched aimlessly through the covers on her bed, until her fingers closed around the cold plastic of her vibrator.

Eren licked his lips in anticipation. He knew what this small toy could make her sound like. And now he was finally able to see how it did. The amount of times he would sit in the basement of this house, desperately trying not to touch himself as her sultry moans filtered through the pipes, was too many to count. There were a few times where as soon as she finished, his hand would immediately wrap around his shaft as her noises were still burned in his mind. He was desperate to touch himself now, but he refused to do so in fear of making Y/N uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, unaware of Eren's desperation, Y/N finally pressed the button to make the electronic device stir to life. But before she made any moves to bring herself to the brink of pleasure, she made sure to look Eren in his eyes. She had found that she had quite liked having him here. Having his eyes on her had seemed to increase her sexual gratification by tenfolds. Her eyes wandered down his body, his chest was heaving up and down with deep breaths, his hands were still clutched to his sides, and she was sort of surprised that he looked so desperate for her. She never knew that a man could get so excited just by seeing her get herself off. But what surprised her the most, was the tent that formed in his jeans.

“You’re hard?” She breathed, turning off her vibrator and propping herself up on her forearms so she could get a better look.

“Y-yeah, I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” Eren told her. Though, she didn’t look uncomfortable. He felt like his whole body was on vibrate as he registered the mesmerized look that crossed the girl's features.

“I’m not uncomfortable, I just… Didn’t know that ghosts could be turned on. Do you even have any blood to make that work?” Y/N asked, bringing up the question that was on her mind earlier. Eren looked down at his burning erection, not really knowing the answer, just grateful that he had working parts.

“I have found that humans have learned next to nothing about what happens in the afterlife.” Eren said, honestly. And Y/N nodded in understanding, as this was a supernatural phenomenon that neither one of them could probably fully comprehend. Even so, she thought that they should use that to their advantage, if this would be their one and only night together.

“If you wanted to— Um,— handle that while you watch, it’s okay with me.” She said, her voice small with her apparent shyness. Eren’s eyes widened after hearing what she had to say. He couldn’t believe that any of this was really happening. He must have been a saint in his past life. You know, before this one that ended so soon.

“Are you sure?” Eren questioned, and all the girl had to do was nod before he was already tugging his shirt over his head. A small whimper escaped Y/N’s lips as she finally caught sight of Eren’s naked chest. The world must have been a cold and dark place if they allowed this specimen to leave our graces so soon. His whole torso was unexpectedly well defined as one would usually expect the undead to be ghastly. But Eren was anything but that. She was sort of mad at herself for allowing him to get undressed, now that she knew staring at him was the worst torture since she wouldn’t be able to touch him. Even so she was happy to have the chance to know that this man existed and held her breath as his fingers clumsily fumbled with the belt of his jeans.

When he revealed his underwear she was surprised to find him wearing black briefs, as that seemed unexpectedly modern for someone who grew up in the 80’s. But she didn’t really know much about men’s underwear trends throughout the decades, and soon enough the thought didn’t even matter. Eren had hooked his fingers around the elastic waistband of his briefs and his hard erection finally felt the relief of the cool air around them. His hard-on brushed lightly against his lower abdomen as it was freed from its confines and Y/N couldn’t hold back the moan that left her lips at the sight.

“God, you’re huge.” Y/N whimpered, feeling more of herself drip down between her thighs. Eren grinned at her words, he knew that he was particularly well-endowed from previous encounters when he was alive, but nothing excited him more than the explicit knowledge that Y/N liked how he looked. His hand wrapped around his shaft as he stroked himself a few times, the relief washing over him like a dam breaking. He raised an eyebrow when he realized that Y/N had ceased all her movements as she was hypnotized by the movement of his hand.

“Don’t let me distract you.” He breathed, as he continued stroking himself. He tried to keep his movements slow, not wanting to have this end before anything really started.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Y/N laughed, breathlessly as she let herself fall against her back once more, trying to bring her soul back to her body after the shock she just received from seeing him in all his naked glory. Not that she would say that part out loud. As it seemed to be a bit offensive due to his situation. Deep laughter rumbled out of Eren’s chest as he looked at the breathless girl in front of him.

“You must really like the sight of me touching myself.” He said, his tone deep with want. He registered how as he spoke, she arched her back against the surface of the mattress. Another soft whimper protruded from between her lips. Note to self, she likes dirty talk.

“You wish that I could do more, don’t you?” He asked, holding back on using any harsher language as he tested the waters. He wanted to make sure that she was as fully into this as he was. Y/N lifted her head, finding that she had lost the use of her vocal chords and nodded at his words. Her vibrator lay forgotten somewhere between the sheets and somehow her fingers had found her small sensitive bud as he continued talking.

“I need you to use your words, sweetheart, what would you want me to do to you?” He asked, as his hand started moving faster against himself, as if it had a mind of its own.

“I would want you inside of me.” She told him truthfully, and as she did, she dipped one of her own fingers inside of herself, which turned out to be very easy as she was pretty sure this was the wettest she had ever been in her life.

“Yeah?” He asked, his tone teasing as his mouth lifted in a half smile, “You want my cock deep inside of you?”

Y/N was practically shaking as his mouth formed over these dirty words. Her hand started moving faster but her small finger wasn’t enough, it would never be enough if she knew that Eren was standing right in front of her, holding something in his hand that could give her so much more.

Eren took a step closer, as their hands started to move in sync. If he moved his hand at the right time, he could easily pretend. Pretend that it was her that was wrapped around his shaft rather than the cold touch of his own hand. His knees brushed against the edge of the bed as he was filled with so much desire for Y/N, who lay only a couple inches away from him.

“If only I could fuck you the way you want me to.” He murmured as his eyes were glued to Y/N’s figure. His head was spinning at the sight of her sweat gleaming across her soft skin as her movements became faster. Eren didn’t even register how he propped his knee up on the bed, which shouldn’t have even been possible. But he didn’t notice, all he cared about was making her feel good, even if it was just with the words that left his lips.

“I would make you feel so good,” He told her, and a sense of pride filled his chest as he watched a slow smile spread across her features. “Could you imagine how good it would feel? If I could take my cock and use it on that pretty pussy of yours?”

“Oh, god.” Was all that left her lips, she didn’t think she could come up with a coherent sentence as he brought her closer to the edge with only the use of his words. And it seemed that Eren lost the use of his own tongue as he watched her. She looked so beautiful in this moment, her skin was glowing and her perfect features were twisted with pleasure. Eren had never been so desperate to touch someone as he was now. His want for her— no, his need for her was burning deep in his core, it was so hot that he swore he could have caught fire.

The hand that wasn’t preoccupied with relieving his own tension, was itching to touch her. So he humored himself. He allowed his hand to inch towards her, as if the end of its journey wouldn’t end in disappointment and instead end with the instant gratification of her skin under his touch. His hand was hovering over her thigh that was propped up as Y/N lost herself in euphoria. She didn’t register how the air grew colder as he brought himself closer to her. Eren bit his lip as he finally brought his hand down on her leg. He could imagine how great it would feel if he was able to touch her, if only he didn’t fall right throu—

“You’re touching me.”

“W-what?” He breathed, blinking as he tried to understand what was happening.

“Your hand, it’s on my leg.” Y/N whispered. The moment she had felt his cold fingertips on her leg she had ceased all movements, his icy touch shocked her to her core. Eren seemed to be distracted by his own thoughts before she brought light to the situation.

Eren’s eyes landed on the hand that he placed on her thigh. And sure enough, instead of falling through her body like he expected, his hand was solid against her skin. A breathless gasp left Eren’s lips as he smoothed his hand over her leg. His eyebrows furrowed as he finally realized he was able to touch her like he always wanted.

“How is this possible?” He whispered, as he brought his other hand to the opposite leg. Eren firmly spread his hands down the length of her thighs until they ended at her hips. His eyes snapped up to the girl, whose look of shock probably reflected his own. Y/N shook her head, since she definitely didn’t know the answer to how this was happening. But as their eyes connected, they realized that no words needed to be said. And no more time needed to be wasted. In an instant, the two crashed into each other with burning need. Eren’s hands had found her face, gently caressing her jawline as his lips slotted against hers. He drank in the sweet moans that escaped her lips and into his own like it was the only sustenance he needed. Which technically was the truth, since he had no need to eat, drink or sleep. All he needed was her.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush against his chest. Her nipples perked up against his chest and she wasn’t sure if it was because of her arousal or the fact that he was extremely cold to the touch. But it didn’t even matter to her, all she cared about was having more of him. The moment she met him she knew that she wanted him, she just didn’t know how desperate she was until now.

Eren’s hands moved from her face and down to her waist, his grip was tight on her hips as he brought their most intimate parts closer. His erection was pressed hard into her inner thigh and she whimpered into his mouth as his length brushed over her clit. That small hint of pleasure had caused the girl to take initiative, and she guided Eren to flip their bodies so that his back rested against her headboard.

Y/N took this moment to admire the man in front of her. His head was tilted back as his chest heaved up and down, already breathless from their brief kiss. His hair was disheveled as more of his brown locks of hair escaped his bun to frame his face. The teal of his eyes burned into her own irises and she shivered from the lust that resided in his. But her attention was soon brought down to his cock, and with how turned on he was, she was sure that it had to be painful.

“Condom.” She murmured, moving towards her nightstand to grap one of the tiny pieces of foil. But before she could Eren had grabbed her wrist.

“I don’t think we need one of those.” He told her, trying not to get too excited that his hand was closed around her wrist. He didn’t think he would ever get over the euphoria of being able to touch her.

“Why?” She asked, her own horniness causing her brain to work at a slower pace.

“I’m dead, sweetheart.” He chuckled, moving his hand so that he could brush his knuckles against her cheekbone.

“Oh right.” She giggled bashfully, crawling back towards him so she could place herself on his lap. She shivered as his erection poked her lower stomach. She bit her lip as she gently wrapped her hand around his cock. Eren’s hands found her waist once more and his grip was so tight that she was sure there would be bruises in the morning.

“God, it’s been so long since anyone touched me like this.” He moaned, dropping his head in the crook of her neck. He relished in her touch around his shaft and he had to hold back an embarrassing whimper that caused his whole body to shake.

The way that Y/N had him moaning underneath her and the desperation in his voice had filled her with so much desire that she couldn’t last another second without feeling him inside of her. She propped herself up on her knees, positioning the head of his cock right at her entrance. Eren groaned as he could already feel her wetness drip down on him. But before anything happened, he lifted his head from her shoulder and with a strong hand on the back of her head he brought her lips to his in one more fervid kiss.

As they lost themselves in one another, Y/N finally sank down onto his shaft. Swallowing each other's gasps as his cock slowly moved deep inside of her. With his hands on her waist, he guided her until he was fully bottomed out. Y/N had to keep from squirming just from how nice it felt to have him all the way inside of her.

Just for a moment, the two of them stayed silent. The only noise in the room was their deep breathing as Y/N adjusted to his size.

“Are you ready to move, baby?” Eren eventually asked, and the girl nodded but she made no moves to start.

“Y-yeah, just give me a second.” She breathed, her voice was shaking as she clutched onto Eren’s shoulders. Eren chuckled softly as he watched the girl take a couple of deep breaths. He brought his mouth closer to her neck, leaving soft open-mouthed kisses against her burning skin. The contrast of her heat against his cold had his head reeling. He lost control as he littered her body with kisses, until his lips found themselves around the sensitive bud of her nipple. The second he came in contact with her breast he could feel her clench around him. Another deep laugh escaped him.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Eren observed, eliciting an embarrassed whimper from the girl. But she nodded her head so that he would continue his skillful touch. He grazed his teeth over her nipple, while his hand moved up to play with the other. Electricity shot out from his touch and seared deep into her skin, and soon enough the pleasure he brought her had caused movement to spark. Her hips rolled deep against him and simultaneous moans filtered into the air.

Soon enough, Eren was guiding her against his cock, the sounds of their skin slapping against one another took hold of the room. Curses filtered out of Eren’s mouth as he relished in the greatest pleasure he had ever known. Which was immediately doubled as he took in the sight of Y/N on top of him. The fact that it was her to finally give him what he had been missing for the past twenty years blew his mind. This was all that he could ever hope for. No, it was better than what he hoped for. It was real, and she could see him and she wanted him the exact same way that he had wanted her from the moment he saw her.

Eren was suddenly lost in his lust as he held Y/N in place. His hips thrusted hard against her and from his movements the girl was now screaming on top of him. Y/N wondered what this might have looked like from an outside perspective. If someone were to walk in would they just see a girl losing her mind to an unknown invisible entity? But she didn’t even care that they were two different types of beings. All she cared about was Eren and this private moment between them. She wanted him to feel good, and she already knew how good he could make her feel. This intimate experience was for the two of them to find pleasure with one another.

Y/N felt as Eren’s movements became erratic. His dick twitched inside of her, causing the girl to clench around him one more time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He told her as he pounded into her, “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.”

“Cum for me.” Was all she said in return and Eren’s grip tightened around her waist at her command. His hand left one of her sides so that he could rub gentle circles around her clit. He would be damned if he finished before she could find her own orgasm. The shock of his cold touch against her sensitive bud had caused a sharp gasp to leave Y/N’s form. And though she was far more confident just a moment earlier when she told him to release himself inside of her, she suddenly grew shy and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

But then she realized that this might be the only time they’d be able to indulge in one another. So she pulled away from Eren’s neck so that she could crash her lips onto his in one last searing kiss. This small intimate action had brought the both of them to their orgasms. Eren groaned into her mouth as he felt himself shoot his cum deep inside of her and Y/N’s legs began to shake as waves of pleasure took over her form.

As the two of them came down from their high, Y/N slumped against Eren’s body and his strong arms instinctively circled around her waist.

“That was…” Eren breathed, not able to finish his sentence as there was not a word in the English dictionary that could describe how incredible it was.

“Fucking amazing.” Y/N finished, and Eren laughed as she found the words that were lost on his tongue. Eren could feel the girl grin against his chest and perfect contentment had settled into his heart. He traced lazy patterns across the small of her back.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you were the first person to see me.” Eren whispered into the crown of her head.

“Mm, is that only because I let you watch me masturbate?” Y/N giggled, and Eren rolled his eyes as he shifted their bodies so that they were laying down on her bed. Y/N turned so that their chests were pressed together and so she could see the happy grin that spread across Eren’s features.

“No, not only that.” He smiled, pulling more laughter from the girl. “It’s just… I think you’re the best person I’ve ever known.”

“Wow, that’s an overstatement.” Y/N grinned, “You barely know anything about me.”

“I know more than you think.” He told her, and then heat rushed to his cheeks as he realized what he just said. “Okay, that sounded fucking creepy, but you know what I mean.”

Eren expected her to laugh at him. Or to call him a freak and kick him out of her bed. But the reaction that he got from her was one that he didn’t expect.

“I think I do know what you mean.” Y/N whispered into his skin, “I know that I didn’t really know it was you that was haunting me the while I was living here, but I feel like I’ve known you this whole time.”

Eren’s heart pounded in his chest at her confession, and he didn’t know how to respond except for leaving a gentle kiss against the crown of her head. Silence fell over the two of them once more as their bodies tangled together in the sheets. Eren was happy as he held her close, running his hand over her hair and leaving soft kisses on her cheeks as she slowly fell asleep.

Since he was dead, and didn’t need to sleep he held her throughout the night, wondering what she could be dreaming about and hoping that she was dreaming of him. And as he stayed with her through the night, the worst thing had happened. With her in his arms, Eren realized that he was ready to go.

The whole time he was dead, he always thought that he wanted to pass on and go into the light, or whatever cheesy crap indicated the entrance to eternal paradise. But there was always something keeping him here. He realized now it was his own apprehension. He was scared to move on into the unknown. But with the help of the beautiful girl that laid sleeping on his chest, he remembered who he was. He wasn’t afraid of anything. So it was only right that he moved on to the next part of his afterlife.

When Y/N stirred awake a few hours later to the sound of chirping birds and Eren’s cold body against her own, she looked up at the man and the smile on his face told her what he was thinking. Her features softened into a sad smile and she didn’t need to say anything but nod her head in understanding before the two of them got dressed and walked hand in hand downstairs.

Y/N grabbed the box from the kitchen counter, and turned towards Eren who was looking at the item with fierce determination. She held out the box in his hands, and when he went to touch the small item he didn’t sink through. He grabbed it as if it were nothing and he could almost laugh at how easy it was. Eren realized right then how he was able to touch the box and how he was able to touch Y/N the night before. He can only touch something when he was absolutely sure of what he wanted. Last night, he wanted Y/N with every fibre of his being, he wanted all of her and nothing less. And now, with the box in his hand, he realized he was ready to move on. Eren wanted to move on.

Unfortunately for Eren, he was still unable to touch the hammer and the screwdriver, so he had Y/N crack it open and this time he didn’t stop her. When the box burst open, a bunch of small papers burst out across the counter. Y/N held one up to see what was on it, and it turned out to be a letter from Eren’s father. All of these were letters that his dad had written but apparently never had the guts to send.

Eren was able to touch the letters on his own, so she took a step back and watched as he read each one. She didn’t ask what was written in these letters, but she knew it must’ve meant something to Eren as his shoulders started to shake from the tears that were streaming down his face. Y/N’s heart squeezed in her chest as she placed a comforting hand on Eren’s shoulder. He didn’t look up at her, or say anything, all he did was cover her hand with his own, holding onto her tightly as he finished the last of his father’s words.

When he did, he turned to face Y/N, bringing her into his arms as he hugged her for the last time. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Eren holding her tight against his chest, as Y/N’s own tears started to prick at the corner of her eyes. She forced herself to keep them in when Eren pulled away to look at her face. A melancholy smile danced across his features as he cupped Y/N’s face in his large hands.

“I’m going to miss you, you know.” Eren whispered the very first words of the morning, which immediately caused Y/N to burst into tears. Eren laughed softly as he wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. “Hey, don’t cry, I’m the one who's dead.”

“It isn’t fair.” Y/N whispered, her eyes shining as she looked up at him, “I just found you and now you have to leave. How am I supposed to go on without you?”

Sadness wrapped around Eren’s heart at her words, but he couldn’t let her think this way. He set aside his own hurt to focus directly on her. He leaned forward so that his forehead was resting on hers.

“Just because it’s the end of my life, doesn’t mean it’s the end of yours.” He told her, rubbing the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb. “I need you to keep on living. Even if it hurts.”

Y/N wanted to argue, she wanted to tell him to stay. She didn’t know what she would do if the emptiness of this house finally reached her. It would be a cold and dark place without Eren around flicking the lights on and off and pushing that stupid box off the shelf. But Y/N knew that she couldn’t be selfish. So she nodded and took Eren’s words to heart.

At her acceptance to his words, Eren bent his head lower so that he could capture her lips with his own one last time before he left. Y/N sighed as she sank into him, though she was afraid that his lips were the eternal cure for all her heartache and this would be the last time she would ever be able to have it. As he continued to kiss her so tenderly, she was grateful she at least had this one chance to be with him. So she relished in their last kiss. And when they pulled apart she knew that she was ready to watch him go. Even if it hurts.

As Eren stepped away from her he gave her one last shining grin. Though that wasn’t the only thing that was burning bright in the small kitchen where they stood.

“Those motherfuckers.” Eren laughed as he looked over Y/N’s shoulder at something she couldn’t see.

“What is it?” She asked, turning to look, though she was only greeted with the sight of her fridge and cabinets.

“They went with the cliche.” Eren told her, as his eyes trained ahead.

“Giant bright light?” Y/N chuckled, imagining the warmth that must be spreading through Eren as he was one step closer to his eternal paradise.

“That’s the one.” He grinned, and then his eyes rested on her once more. The sad smile on his face almost kept him from moving forward. But she placed a small hand on his jawline and stood on her toes to place a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll miss you too.” Y/N smiled, finally responding to what he said earlier. Eren laughed and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly before he took a step towards the light. Y/N took a small step back, letting his fingers slip out of her own and watched as he went on. But before he was fully gone, he turned around one last time.

“It’s not too late, you still have time to tell me not to go into the light.” Eren joked, looking back at her.

“No, it’s okay, you’re ready.” She told him, shaking her head with slight laughter. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep on living.”

“Even if it hurts?” Eren questioned.

“Even if it hurts.” She repeated. With a smile, Eren nodded one last time before finally stepping into the light. And for the first time since she moved in, Y/N was all alone.

~

Knock, knock, knock.

What the fuck? Y/N thought to herself as hopped around her room, tugging on her shoe so that it was finally on her foot. Who the hell was knocking on her door? She had told her friends that she would meet them at the movies and that there was no need to come pick her up. Y/N grumbled some unnecessary curses as she moved out of her room and down the stairs so she could see who was bothering her right before she had to leave.

As she moved into the hallway, her attention landed on a small object that sat on one of the tables that lined the narrow room. It was Eren’s box.

It’s not like it was unknown to her that it was there, since she fixed it up and placed it there herself. But everytime she passed the small item she couldn’t help but reminisce about the ghost that had changed her life so drastically in just one night. It had only been a few months, but the memory of him would be burned into her skin for as long she could remember.

Y/N touched her fingertips to the wooden box for just a moment, which was a habit that she picked up everytime she left the house. Hoping that Eren was somewhere out there watching over her. And with a small smile on her face, knowing that he probably was, she was ready to meet whoever was standing at her door.

“I told you guys that you didn’t have to pick me—” She started as she wrenched open the door, expecting to see one of her friends who most likely went against her wishes, but instead when she caught sight of who was standing at her door her words immediately were lost on her tongue. The man in front of her, lifted his head to speak as well, but his teal eyes shined with slight recognition the moment he took in her features. Y/N could’ve dropped to her knees at the spitting image of Eren standing on her doorstep.

“Eren?” She whispered, opening the door wider. The man in front of her tilted his head to the side, indicating that Y/N must’ve had the wrong person. Embarrassment flooded her system, and she was about to apologize when he spoke.

“How do you know my name?” He asked, and Y/N didn’t have an explanation that didn’t sound completely psychotic. So she settled for a little white lie.

“You look like someone who used to live in this building.” She explained, hoping that he couldn’t tell that she knew him personally. The new Eren nodded in understanding.

“That would be my uncle. He used to live here.” He told her, and now it was Y/N’s turn to nod. So this was the nephew that Eren was so excited to be an uncle for. She didn’t even realize that he was born right around the same time she was. “He died the year I was born so I was named after him.”

Y/N tried to hide the grin that spread over her features at that piece of information. Eren would’ve been so happy to know that his brother named his kid after him.

The two strangers stood looking at each other, smiles gracing their faces though neither of them were really sure why. And it took a moment for them both to realize the real reason they were staring at each other.

“So, um, can I help you with anything?” Y/N asked, shaking her head to rid the giddiness that unexpectedly took over her form.

“Oh! Right.” Eren chuckled awkwardly, stuffing his hand in his pocket to take out a small item. Y/N’s lips parted with realization as she recognized the key in his hand.

“My dad gave this to me a while ago. He said it was my uncle’s and that their father gave it to him.” Eren explained as they both looked at the key in his hand, “ I wasn’t going to do anything with it but then I got curious and I suddenly had the urge to see it through.”

“What made you want to solve the mystery?” Y/N asked, curious to what urged him to find himself on her doorstep.

“I don’t know.” Eren shrugged, looking at her, Y/N shivered the same way she did all those days ago. “ I just felt like I had to find out what this key was for. I had this weird feeling the morning after—”

“—Halloween.” Y/N finished for him. And Eren looked at her slightly taken aback, but his features held a look of wonder. He was probably wondering how she knew the exact day this weird feeling came over him. But of course she knew. It was the same day she had to say goodbye to Eren.

“Yeah, exactly.” He breathed. And he took a moment to take in the girl that currently lived in this house. For some reason she seemed strangely familiar. As if he had met her before.

“I’m sorry, but I feel like I know you.” Eren laughed, shaking his head as if it didn’t seem real. “Is that weird?”

“It’s not weird at all.” Y/N grinned, and Eren just smiled back at her. At that moment, the two of them were drawn to one another as if some unknown force was pushing them together. And Y/N realized that maybe it was okay to keep on living.

~~~

Levi Ackerman hates having his picture taken.

At least, that’s what you’ve come to realize. He has a unique talent of always knowing when a camera has found him, because every time your lens focuses on him from your place near the first-base line, his eyes seem to cut through all of the fans and uniforms and advertisements, past the fence and flashing lights, until they land directly on you. Then he scowls. 

You lower the camera the first time it happens. Then Levi turns away, rolling his shoulder as he talks to Jean Kirstein, subsequently making Connie Springer burst into laughter. 

You lift your camera again. 

Click.

Levi standing at shortstop with his cap pulled low, his face blank beneath the shadow of the brim.

Click.

Levi tugging his glove tighter around his wrist, his mouth pressed into an irritated line while Eren Jaeger talks at him.

Click.

Levi catching a friendly throw from Marco Bott during break without even looking like he’s trying, the ball smacking into his hand. 

It’s just professional interest. He’s the team captain, after all. He’s got a face that cameras love and a presence that turns even his unbridled boredom into a picture worth framing. Besides, your blog covers the whole team. You photograph everyone.

Mostly.

By the end of the night, the Scouts win by two runs. Jean is yelling, Connie is trying to climb onto Reiner Braun’s back, Armin Arlert looks like he’s about to collapse, and Levi walks off the field with dirt on his uniform and absolutely no joy on his face. You’re used to it, at this point, having photographed their games for the past few months.

You’re in the middle of reviewing your shots when you hear a voice directed at you.

“You always point that thing at people like you’re planning on blackmailing them??

You look up so fast the camera strap catches against your neck. Levi stands on the other side of the low barrier, cap in one hand, his hair slightly damp with sweat. His uniform is still dusty from the game. Up close, he’s shorter than you thought, but that doesn’t stop the sheer force he holds. 

“Only the suspicious ones,” you say.

He lifts an eyebrow. Great. Fantastic first impression. But Levi only looks at the camera, then back at you. “Press?”

“Independent. I run a few sports photography blogs.”

“A few.”

“You know, teams, highlights, game recaps. That sort of thing.”

“Hm.” He narrows his eyes slightly, assessing you. “Name?”

You blink and point at yourself. “Mine?”

“No, the camera’s.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. It surprises both of you. You can tell because his expression shifts by an almost microscopic degree, but since it’s coming from Levi Ackerman—a man who didn’t even blink when a group of men streaked across the field naked once—it sets off fireworks inside you. You give him your name. He repeats it once, then nods toward your camera.

“Try not to make me look stupid,” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you tease. 

His mouth twitches, just barely.

.

The next game, you’re sitting near the dugout during warmups, adjusting your lens when Levi suddenly appears in front of you, his shadow falling over you.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Your finger slips against the focus ring. “Tell you what?”

The smug look on his face already tells you exactly what he’s about to say. Before you can even open your mouth, he recites, “‘Captain Ackerman has a rare ability to look annoyed even in victory. A difficult subject, but a rewarding one.’”

Your face flushes with heat so fast you almost tip over. “You found the blog.”

“You gave me your name.”

“I didn’t think you’d look me up.”

“That was stupid of you.”

You press the back of your hand against your mouth, torn between horror and laughter. “In my defense, most people don’t immediately investigate photographers after one conversation.”

“Most people don’t have an entire page dedicated to my batting stance.”

“It’s a good series.”

“There are almost twelve photos from just one game.”

“The lighting changed.”

“Sure it did.”

You glance toward the field, where Eren is shouting something at Reiner. No one—the team, the staff, the fans around you—seems to notice that you’re currently being confronted by the subject of your most popular blog, which is good, because you might actually evaporate if some crazed Levi fangirl comes and breaks your camera for daring to talk to him.

Levi leans one arm against the barrier. “So?”

“So what?”

“Am I your favorite?”

You make a small slightly shocked noise. His face is perfectly blank, but his eyes tell all. Teasing, maybe. Testing, definitely. You scoff and lift your camera, mostly so you have something to hide behind.

“You’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“It answers several questions.”

“Not mine.”

You focus on him through the lens. It’s easier to be around him that way, with a little distance, with his face inside a frame where you can ignore the fact that you absolutely have a crush on this man.

“You’re interesting,” you say.

Levi’s gaze flickers to the camera. “That another word for difficult?”

“Sometimes.”

This time, the almost-smile is clearer. You take the shot before he can stop you.

.

After that, Levi becomes a problem—in a good way.

He knows where you stand during games. He knows when your camera follows him after a clean catch or a stolen base or one of those impossible throws that makes the entire crowd erupt into cheers. He knows when you catch him in the dugout with his arms crossed, staring at the field after a particularly difficult inning.

And because he knows, since you’re incredibly embarrassed by the fact that he knows your blog now, you photograph everyone except him.

Marco laughing with Armin during warmups. Reiner cracking his knuckles before stepping up to bat. Bertolt looking terrified until the exact moment the pitch comes, when his whole body seems to just suddenly remember what to do. Floch, surprisingly, looking particularly handsome as he slides into second base. 

You still take a few of Levi. A few. Not many. Barely any really. When you post the gallery that night, you title it and close your laptop, pretending to not wonder what Levi will say about it tomorrow.

.

The next afternoon, Levi finds you before the game even starts.

“Are you trying to make a point?”

You look up from your camera bag, fighting the smile already sneaking onto your face. “Well, good afternoon to you too, Captain.”

“Don’t start with that shit.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You posted three photos of me.”

“Four, actually.”

“One was the back of my head.”

“Just appreciating your haircut.”

He stares at you. You stare back. Levi doesn’t look away from you. “You had twenty of Floch and Marco,” he says.

You lose the fight and smile. “Were you counting?”

“No.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you were counting.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Okay.”

“Floch looked smug in half of them.”

“He had a good game.”

“He tripped once. You didn’t photograph that.”

“You’re very invested in this.”

“I’m the captain.”

“Right,” you say, tilting your head. “That’s definitely what this is.” You don’t know what it is—maybe it’s the fact that he’s standing so close to you, or the leftover thrill of being noticed—but bravery surges inside you. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Levi looks at you like you’ve just insulted his ancestry. Then his eyes drop, briefly, to the camera hanging against your chest. 

“I’m not jealous of Floch,” he almost mutters.

“Marco too, apparently.”

“I’m not jealous of Marco either.”

You laugh loudly. The sound should irritate Levi, but it doesn’t. Instead, a warm feeling spreads through his chest, his attention latching onto the sound. He likes your laugh. A lot. He’s almost willing to come over every single game just to hear you laugh again.

Then he reaches over the barrier and taps two fingers against the top of your camera. “Take better pictures today,” he says.

“Of the team?”

He looks at you, a dangerous half-smile playing at his lips. It’d be invisible to anyone who hasn’t spent far too many evenings studying his face through a lens.

“Don’t be stupid,” Levi says, and walks back toward the field. Then, a few steps in, he turns back around, unable to help the full smile that spreads. 

You raise your camera before he can hide it. Click. This one, you already know, is going on the main page of your blog.

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He couldn’t help but wonder why you were, for lack of a better word, like that. Cold. Standoffish. Withdrawn. He had a few theories in mind—only because lectures were that boring—the most probable being that you were just shy. That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps you were the type of student who took her classes way too seriously. He guessed you to be in your third year, like him. Maybe you were trying to get into a competitive graduate program. Or maybe you just really liked anatomy. Eren supposed that’d make sense. You seemed to like the textbook an awful lot, always reading far too closely in the way nerds do in cartoons. But there were other times when it was almost as if you were avoiding looking him in the eye.

There were days—usually when Eren was feeling particularly disgruntled—that your quietness irked him. He knew it was irrational to care so much, but damn it, why were you like that? And all the time, too. You must be stuck up. What else could he blame your perpetually cold shoulder on? He wasn’t proud of it, but sometimes he believed you were a bitch. Simple as that.

Eren’s theories could go on and on, but none of them were true. Well, you didn’t think you were a bitch. No, the reason behind your reserved attitude was much more straightforward than that.

You had a stupid crush on Eren. 

A girlish, twirling-your-hair-around-your-finger crush. The kind that made your stomach somehow feel both hollow and full, and had you gushing to your roommate even though you knew you’d never act on any of this.

You’d felt this way since last semester, in another class you had together. You didn’t think Eren remembered that; you still weren’t sure he even knew of your existence until your professor partnered up the two of you. 

God. Thinking about that day made you prickle with anxiety all over again. When it happened, you swore you were going to die. Like, actually keel over from a heart attack in the middle of class and die.

You liked to think there was another universe out there in which you’d feel thrilled to have such forced proximity to your crush. Maybe he’d even give you his number to text him about homework, and in that other universe, you’d be absolutely giddy over it. 

But that was not the case, because in this universe, anatomy was far from your strong suit. Very, very far. 

You drove yourself mad over all the ways you’d inevitably embarrass yourself in front of Eren, lab after lab. It terrified you, even to the point where you wouldn’t dare ask a question out of fear of sounding dumb. So you made do with what you had, pressed on without asking him to repeat himself, and scribbled down what little you could manage. 

It was despicable. Truly despicable, and you knew it, and still you pretended like Eren wasn’t there because that felt easier. Even if it meant you started seeing your grade slip.

You hoped to keep that—and your crush—a secret from him, but one day, he got a little too nosy for your liking. 

The professor handed back your lab report face down, like always. You knew professors did that for everyone, no matter the grade, but you couldn’t help but feel it was done specifically for you. 

You didn’t want to, but you forced yourself to peel back the corner and take a peek. Unsurprisingly, a lousy grade met you on the other side. Again.

For someone wanting to hide their score, you weren’t as careful as you should have been when sliding the paper into your folder. Eren leaned back in his seat, just far enough to steal a glimpse over your shoulder. For research, obviously. If you liked anatomy so much, then you must be pretty good at the subject. That would fit in well with your stuffy attitude, wouldn’t it? 

But what Eren saw surprised him, especially when he considered his own soaring grade. On his chuckle, he let slip, “Wow. Are you even writing anything down?”

You startled, slamming your folder shut. “Huh?”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He was, but it didn’t come across nearly as lighthearted as he hoped. Eren often let his thoughts spew into words he shouldn’t say, but you didn’t know about that nasty habit of his. All you were thinking was shit, shit, shit. He had finally figured out that you had no clue what you were doing. 

Eren saw the panic as it spread across your face. He cracked a small smile at you, perhaps for the first time, as if it would help. Still, his eyebrows furrowed with a sort of pity he couldn’t hold back. 

“The lab.” He pointed to the crumpled paper, half in the folder, half poking out. You tucked it away entirely to hide the grade for the rest of eternity. “We do them together every week. How are you screwing them up that badly?”

What kind of question was that? You gave him a hard frown and regretted thinking he’d be anything more than curt toward you. Even with the pity brows, you weren’t feeling much sympathy from him. 

You replied with a blank stare, imagining how horribly this moment would torment you the second your head hit your pillow tonight—and for all nights to come, probably. 

You only snapped out of it when you heard his chair drag against the tile. He sighed, a little too loudly to consider it natural, and started packing his things into his book bag. 

“Look,” Eren started to say. He glanced up at you once he’d zipped his bag shut, and it made you flighty. “You don’t have to be stuck with a shitty grade. There’s still time left in the semester. I bet I can help.”

His voice was flat, and you didn’t care for his delivery much, but beneath that, there was a glint of sincerity. You weren’t sure where it came from, and frankly, neither did Eren. He regretted being so thoughtless with his words. It was hard not to after seeing the way your face—always so stoic he’d think you were made of marble—turned so sullen. He didn’t like how it made him feel, less so knowing you could pull such a visceral reaction from him.

“You still have my number, yeah?” Eren asked.

You nodded. You did, in fact, still have his phone number, scratched into the first page of your notebook. He wrote it down after your first class together, just like you hoped he would. You decided not to do anything with it. You didn’t even save it to your phone to prevent any possibility of a stupid, drunken text.

“Good,” he said. “We can meet up sometime to study together.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks,” you said, quietly at first, but your confidence grew with each word when you realized this might not have to go down as one of your top ten most humiliating memories.

“Sure.” Eren stood and swung his bag over his shoulder. He smiled at you again, real this time, big enough to make your stomach flop. “I can’t let my lab partner flunk out on me.”

So, that was where it began—‘it’ referring to you and Eren occasionally studying together. Nothing more. Definitely not the fun sort of studying—you know, like having him study your anatomy rather than the pictures in his textbook. Oh, well. You could still dream.

It took about two study sessions before you didn’t feel you were on the edge of your seat around Eren. As lame as it sounded, he made you incredibly nervous—much more nervous than you felt around him in class, and you didn’t even think that was possible. 

Just like in class, you tried your very hardest to keep your eyes on your text. But as shameful as it was to admit, you occasionally snuck a glance. Only when you were certain he wouldn’t notice, because if he did, you knew you’d turn into a pile of goo before you could even look away. 

You’d catch him while he was jotting something down because you liked how he looked when he was pensive. His dark brows would sit low over his eyes, and his bottom lip would jut out ever so slightly. And sometimes, only when he was completely stumped, he’d run his fingers through his hair in thought. You liked that a lot, too. 

By the time midterms had come and gone, you were seeing Eren more and more—at least twice a week outside of class, maybe a third time if you had a lab report due. By then, it was impossible to let your heart continue to flutter every time you looked him in the eyes. Otherwise, it was bound to give out. 

What you wanted to be study dates (emphasis on ‘dates’) quickly became what felt like tutoring lessons—and just to be clear, you were not the tutor. After Eren convinced you his willingness to help was genuine, you didn’t worry as much about sounding dumb. He never seemed bothered when he had to explain a topic, even if you went overboard with the questions.

Though he did like to poke fun at you for your frequent mix-ups and mispronunciations. But you made sure to never let him live down spelling ‘brain’ as ‘brian.’ 

“It was one time,” he’d always complain back. 

After being scolded one too many times for goofing off in the library, you had to make do with other spots around campus, like in a cafe or even out on the green. Other times, especially as the weather began to cool, you’d meet Eren at his place, just a five-minute jaunt from campus. 

He lived in a house with three other boys: Armin, Jean, and Connie. You found Jean and Connie to be nice enough based on the handful of conversations you had with them. Despite that, Eren blamed them for the reason you didn’t study at his house often, accusing them of being too distracting to think straight. You didn’t necessarily agree, but hey, you weren’t the one who had to live with them.

Eren would never tell you this—hell, he couldn’t think of a single person he’d say this aloud to—but the real reason he didn’t like to study at his place was Armin. 

Eren’s blonde best friend for the last ten years. His roommate, whom you would describe as cute as a button and sharp as a tack. Armin knew much more about anatomy than you and Eren (maybe even combined) and liked to join in when he was bored, answering the questions that Eren couldn’t. 

Eren couldn’t pinpoint exactly why this bothered him so much. He always knew Armin was smarter than him; that had never been a problem before. Now, it bothered him to no end. But rather than deal with it head-on, Eren decided studying at your apartment was the better solution. Your roommate, Hitch, was tolerable enough. 

It was around finals week when it happened. A healthy dose of reality, served as a smack straight across your face. A reminder that you still had a big fat crush on Eren. When your frequent study dates became less of a one-on-one thing and more like a group hangout. 

You were cordial, something between classmates and acquaintances, with the few classmates sitting near you. One girl, Mina, said that she, Thomas, and Samuel planned to get together to prepare for the upcoming exam. She insisted that you and Eren should join. 

You didn’t respond right away. You couldn’t, not with the way your heart sank into your stomach when Eren answered for you. 

“She needs all the help she can get,” Eren replied with a playful pat on your shoulder. He was only joking, but you wished he didn’t sound so eager. You especially wished his hand, so innocently placed on your back, didn’t make your cheeks burn. 

You did your best to get over it quickly. It was hard to stay bitter at people you got along with, so much so that you’d accomplish more chatting than studying. Luckily for the rest of you, Eren and Thomas knew enough to help you skate by. 

But when Eren started texting in the new group chat more than he’d text you, you couldn’t ignore the sting. It felt as though you’d let your chances with him slip by because next semester he wouldn’t be your lab partner anymore. He might not even talk to you again; he’d have no reason to. 

You left the final exam feeling okay at best. You walked out with your head down, not paying attention as Mina caught up from behind. She invited you to come by her apartment that Friday—something about your classmates getting together to celebrate the end of Anatomy pop quizzes. You didn’t give it a second thought when you agreed. 

You were at the get-together for maybe an hour, maybe longer, when someone was drunk enough to suggest a game of Never Have I Ever. You’d just thrown away your second beer and felt just adventurous enough to play. 

Mina’s living room was too small for hosting, but most of your places were. That didn’t stop her from decorating for the holiday season. With everyone crowded around, the strings of lights cast a colorful but warm glow against everyone’s faces. In the center of the ragged circle, some people sat on the floor, some on the sofa, was an old beer. According to Samuel, it was left out overnight chugging it would serve as punishment for putting the last of your fingers down. 

You didn’t know it then, but that beer had your name written all over it.

You sat on the floor, legs folded to your chest, with your hand growing tired in the air. Only your index finger remained standing when Mina shouted it was her turn. 

“Never have I ever had a body count higher than five,” she announced.

A few people put a finger down, but you knew it didn’t matter. You dropped your forehead to your knees in defeat and let your hand slump to your side. Everyone was laughing, hounding you to drink the beer, when you whined, “Do I have to?”

If you hadn’t been so busy downing that lukewarm can, pouting as you went—if your audience wasn’t so loud as they heckled you, maybe you would have noticed how Eren went quiet. How a firm crease formed between his brows the longer he watched. 

Eren didn’t know what he was feeling. Something sour. Something like the feeling he got when he saw you laugh with Armin. It made him not want to look at you because the sight alone made his stomach tight, but he couldn’t stop. 

Your body count didn’t offend him. After all, he had to put a finger down for the same reason. Though he had to admit, you surprised him (it was always the quiet ones, wasn’t it?) but that wasn’t new. The more he learned about you, the more he realized his assumptions about you couldn’t have been more wrong—especially the ones about you being a bitch and good at anatomy. 

Eren studied you from across the cramped room. Your nose crinkled, giggles spilling from you as you tried, for the second time, to finish the beer. He’d heard your laugh before. Many times, actually. But tonight, he found the sound captivatingly warm. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he felt his chest flutter. 

His thoughts drifted further and further, recklessly so, until he found himself wondering if you’d crinkle your nose just the same if he made you come. 

Right then, he could see you underneath him. Naked. Your face twisted in pleasure, brows pinched cutely as your teeth dipped into your swollen bottom lip. He swore he could feel your thighs under his palms, soft and giving beneath them as he pulled down your—

It was so wrong of him. Wrong to be in a room full of people and pretend as if you were the only two people to exist. 

That swarming in his gut grew hotter. He took another sip of his beer as if it would dull the burn.

Eren doubted himself into a downward spiral. Almost like a hangnail, he picked and picked at the thought until he created an open wound of his own making. What was so wrong with him that you weren’t interested?

He could deny naming the sick feeling as much as he wanted, but Eren knew what it was: insecurity. Jealous of people he didn’t even know, for no other reason than he had the chance to be with you in the ways he so desperately craved, to where he felt doubled over sick.

He felt fucking pathetic for it.

Eren didn’t stay at the party long after that. You left just before midnight and didn’t think of that game, or Eren, for the rest of the weekend. And on Monday, you were up bright and early to check your final grade for anatomy. By some miracle, you passed the class.

It was well into winter break when you saw Eren again. You bumped into him at a house party, when there was about a week left until classes started and everyone was trickling back to campus to celebrate the new year.

You didn’t expect to see him again this soon, but then again, you weren’t so sure you’d ever see him again. Anatomy class was the glue that held you together. You wished you could say you had more confidence in your budding friendship, in Eren, but he hadn’t talked to you since Mina’s party. You thought he at least felt some sort of stake in knowing if you passed the class. 

You told yourself it was better off this way, considering you nearly failed your lab because of him. Well, technically speaking, you passed because of him, but you wouldn’t have been in this mess in the first place if he wasn’t your lab partner. 

All that bullshit for a silly crush. 

You stumbled into Eren toward the end of the night, when parties start feeling spacey and liminal, between night and day. A couple of lights were on now, and whoever was in charge of the music had clearly given up long ago. It was all pointing to a not-so-subtle hint to get out. 

And you wanted nothing more than to get out. You would have been out of there thirty minutes ago if it weren’t for Hitch. Your loveable, yet self-admittedly ditzy roommate had disappeared into thin air. 

By the time you began searching for her, you’d already drunk well past your limit. You were left dizzy, starving, and having poked your head into every room and around every corner. No Hitch, but you did find lots of dry humping.

The last time you saw Hitch, she was one of those dry humpers. She was on top of some guy who you figured was the reason she even wanted to come to this party. You were sure you’d catch his name tomorrow morning. 

You were too distracted, too bubbly from the leftover New Year’s champagne to see what was right in front of you—even if he was rather tall, broad, and hard to miss. You didn’t even look twice as you walked past him. He only grabbed your attention after calling your name, but you only felt disappointed that the voice was too deep to belong to Hitch.

You spun around and the floor tilted with you. It took you a step or two to straighten back out, and when you did, your vision settled on Eren. 

He gave you a lop-sided smile, serving as nothing more than a hesitant greeting. He only made it more awkward by throwing in a cheeky, “Long time, no see.”

You returned the gesture by offering a chuckle that was only half-forced. The other half was genuine simply because it was easy to impress anyone after a night spent drinking. 

And since you had spent the night drinking, you felt all weird when you looked at Eren. It wasn’t that you were upset with him—maybe disappointed, but it wasn’t exactly with him. Eren never owed you his kindness, and going out of his way to help you study was more than you could have asked for. You’d say you were disappointed with what could have been. 

But now that he was here, getting shoved closer and closer with every passerby, you didn’t know what to think other than you should have skipped out on that last drink. You hoped you’d feel more put together the next time you saw Eren so you wouldn’t get tangled up in again. You weren’t confident you’d be able to unravel yourself a second time. 

Eren took a willing step toward you and recognized the familiar haze of booze in your eyes. He realized you weren’t going to say anything, so he’d have to do the heavy-lifting.

“Were you looking for someone?”

“Hitch,” you said. There was a pause where you weren’t sure he remembered he knew her. “My roommate.”

“I know.” 

“We were supposed to get food, but I think she took a guy home,” you told him for no reason in particular. “The last time this happened, I walked in on them doing it on the kitchen counter.”

Eren laughed, harder once your face winced at the memory, a sight seared into your brain, for sure. “You should really consider finding a new roommate.”

“And in the meantime?” 

“You come back to my place,” he said, so casually that you were positive you didn’t hear him right. Your face must have given you away, and he tried to brush it off with a shrug. “What’s the big deal? You’ve slept on my couch before.”

He was right. You’d fallen asleep on his couch while studying once. He teased you about it—said you got drool everywhere.

“That’s different,” you sheepishly said. “That was an accident.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place,” he teased.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make your flashcards so boring!”

Eren liked his simple flashcards. He preferred them. Not everyone needed to spend more time highlighting and color-coding flashcards than actually studying them. 

He tilted his head in a look that said Quit being so stubborn for once but relented. “Fine. Then how about you tell me how to make them look nicer on the way back to my house. I was just about to leave, anyway.”

He took a daring step backward. Then another, until he turned on one foot and headed toward the door. He knew you’d follow him, and so thoughtlessly, you did. You stayed just behind as you meandered through the house and out the front door. 

You called out after him, “You don’t really need them now, do you? The class is over.”

“I just thought you might need ‘em.” Eren bounded down the porch steps and tossed a glance over his shoulder, just to catch the look on your face when he said, “Since you’re going to be retaking the class.”

You wished you’d shoved him down the steps, but he was already across the lawn, you trailing him. He walked with longer strides and didn’t seem concerned about whether you could keep up.

“Thanks for that,” you grumbled. 

“Anytime.”

It didn’t take long before the two of you were close to campus. You walked along the main drag, lined with various bars and late-night bites that thrived in the college town’s nightlife. The liveliness made it difficult to tell time; it could be ten p.m. or two a.m., and you wouldn’t know the difference. Every bar kept its music loud enough to thrum in your chest, beating perfectly in tempo with each of your steps—those of which were still fighting to keep up with Eren. 

He didn’t even bother looking back at you when he asked, “Do you still want to get food?”

“Hm?” You couldn’t hear him over your shuffling along the sidewalk. Your feet had already started aching hours ago, and this certainly wasn’t helping. You really shouldn’t have worn your new shoes without breaking them in. 

“You never listen, do you?” Eren didn’t say it with annoyance but with a laugh. “I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”

“I listen just fine. You just mumble a lot,” you defended. “And for your information, I am not retaking Anatomy. I passed with a C.”

“C plus or C minus?” 

“Plus,” you said with inflated, drunken confidence. 

“I’ll alert the media,” Eren deadpanned. You stuck your tongue out at him even though he wouldn’t see it. “Now tell me, did you still want to get food or not?”

“I didn’t think it was still an option.”

“‘Course it is.” He finally looked back at you, nearly skipping to keep up with him now, just in time to catch your trip over a sidewalk crack. “I think you could probably use something to eat.”

When you were about to round the corner onto his street, Eren stopped short a few doors down at an unassuming 24-hour diner. You weren’t expecting to stop and sit down but to flag down a street vendor. Though you had to admit, breakfast sounded wonderful. 

Eren picked the booth in the back after you were instructed to seat yourselves. The place was small and smelt of pancake batter and stale coffee—just as any diner should at this hour. And stale or not, you knew you needed a few mugs to sober up. 

The waitress flipped your ceramic mug upright and filled it to the brim. If it were nine in the morning, steam would pour out, and it would look like a movie. But it was not nine in the morning, and you did not want to know how long this coffee had sat out. 

You took it with cream, then dumped some sugar in, too. Reaching for a second packet, you caught Eren staring as you tore it open, his hands folded around his mug. 

“Is something the matter?” you asked.

“Want any coffee with your sugar?”

“Ha-ha.” You added the sugar, now out of spite. When you took your first sip, it tasted as bitter as you’d imagined. 

Now that you were off your feet, the pain gnawed at you. You wiggled your shoes down, just enough for your heels to slip free from the backs. But it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t bear to keep them for another second—the diner was empty, anyway. Once they were off, your feet pulsed as if they had their own heartbeat. 

The waitress took your order before disappearing again, only making rounds to offer a warm-up here or there, which you gladly accepted. Eren didn’t make a peep when you added another packet of sugar this time. During the lapse in conversation, you kept your head low and fiddled with the loose scraps of paper. You didn’t even remember what you were thinking about when Eren eventually spoke. 

“You know,” he started to say. You peered up from the wadded paper you’d been rolling between your fingers. He leaned back in the booth and looked out the frosted window with a quiet chuckle. “I thought you hated me when we first met.”

You matched his laugh, yours more disbelieving. “Hated you? I don’t think I knew you well enough to hate you.”

As if he were thinking out loud, he said, “You were always so quiet.”

“Being quiet doesn’t mean you hate someone,” you explained. 

His eyes flicked from the window to you. “Then what does it mean?”

It was easier to talk to him when he wasn’t looking directly at you. His gaze felt smothering. You retreated your gaze down to the spool you swirled around your coffee. The soft banging against the ceramic was the only sound between you and Eren because you still didn’t know how to answer him.

“I don’t know,” you said, hoping you would have come up with a more profound answer by now. “It just means you’re quiet, I guess.”

A short stack of pancakes interrupted Eren, slid right between the two of you, decorated with a gooey scoop of butter. Eren only ordered coffee even after you said you’d pay. And once the server dropped off the syrup and scurried away again, Eren was quick to jump back into the conversation, much to your dismay. 

“But you’re not quiet, and you’re not shy either,” he said like he’d caught you in a lie. You urged him on with a raised eyebrow. He scoffed. “Don’t give me that. I know that’s not you. I saw you dancing tonight with Hitch.” 

Your hand stalled as you reached for the syrup. “You watched me dance?” 

His eyes widened, but he played it off well enough when he said, “I mean, yeah. My so-called quiet lab partner actually knows how to dance? It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“If you saw me earlier, why didn’t you come and say hi?”

Strike that. Eren almost played it off. He tensed up, noticeably so, and it took him longer than he would have liked to come up with his pathetic excuse of, “Oh, I think someone grabbed me for a game of beer pong or something. I couldn’t find you after.”

That never happened. Eren knew it, and he was pretty sure you knew it, too. The truth was that Eren didn’t go up and talk to you because he’d spent the last few weeks convincing himself he wasn’t into you. 

He went as far as reinstalling his dating apps, all of which he had long sworn off. He naively assumed that if he just went on a date, maybe even brought a girl home, then he would be in the clear; he wouldn’t think of you anymore. Easy-peasy. But by the time dinner was through, Eren could hardly remember a single thing his date had said. He was too busy comparing her to you, even when he didn’t mean to, and felt disappointed every time she laughed because it sounded nothing like yours. 

Then he saw you tonight. Of course, he had to see you tonight. And out of everything you could have been doing, you were dancing. Having fun, enjoying yourself. He favored you like that, when you were carefree. You were nothing like the girl he thought he’d met in lecture. 

And when he heard your laugh—more remarkable than all the others, like he’d strangely gone deaf to anything and anyone but you—he couldn’t remember why he was trying so hard to stay away from you. 

Now you were here, seated across the booth from him, cheeks stuffed with pancakes, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do next. He had spent the entire walk here wrangling with himself, scared that if he had you, even in the most innocent of ways, he wouldn’t be able to get enough.

Eren knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this because—fuck, what if you still didn’t want him in return?

He only lied about beer pong because he couldn’t outrightly confess to needing a drink before talking to you. He was so close to getting away with it, too. If you’d gone for another bite a second earlier, if he’d thought to take a sip of coffee to hide his face, maybe you wouldn’t have spotted the flushed bridge of his nose. So subtle, yet telling enough that you had to bite your inner lip to prevent a smile.

You held your fork before your face, inspecting the pancake as syrup dripped back onto the plate, purposefully flippant about it as you finally said to Eren, “It’s because I had a crush on you.”

“Huh?”

You plopped the pancake into your mouth, chewing so thoughtfully that it nearly killed Eren. After you swallowed, you said, “I had a crush on you. That’s why I was so quiet.”

He didn’t say another word, even with you staring him square in the face, expectant. It obviously flustered him. You laughed softly, just through your nose, then said, “That, and you always got better grades than me. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.”

Eren didn’t hear the second half of what you said; he was still fixed on the first. “Do you still?”

You knew what he was asking, but you played obtuse. “Still what?”

“Have a crush on me.”  

You mulled it over while you went for another bite, eyes on him like he already had the answer. He did. You both did. Still, you let the question hang heavy between you. You weren’t quite ready to lay your cards on the table just yet. 

You tossed him a flick of a smile when you answered, “To be determined.”

He nodded once, lips folded in a similar sort of smile. “Got it.”

You were satisfied with that, but Eren wasn’t. He watched while you took another sip of coffee before reaching for another packet of sugar. Before you could dump it in, he shielded your mug with his hand. 

“But you better figure out an answer before all that sugar kills you,” he said.

You swatted him away. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be the sugar that kills me and not the keg stand I started the night with.”

“You did a keg stand?” 

He said it as if he didn’t believe you. You giggled, “Only because Hitch talked me into it.”

Eren laughed with you despite the shaking of his head. “See, what did I say? You surprise me.”

You had only hobbled a few feet out of the diner before your heels started hurting again. You sucked your teeth in pain, only made worse by another step. You had noted two fresh blisters on your heels when you slid your shoes back on, but you hoped they wouldn’t be a hassle since the walk to Eren’s was short. Now, all you wanted was to still be drunk enough to feel numb.

“Everything okay back there?” Eren asked.

You were behind him again, but not because of his pace. 

“Yeah,” you said. Eren thought it unconvincing, and you confirmed his hunch when he noticed you stumbling in the corner of his eye. “It’s my shoes. I’m sorry.”

He stopped walking and turned to you. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just take ‘em off.”

“I’m not just going to walk barefoot.”

“Didn’t say you had to.”

You didn’t seem to understand what he was implying, even less so when he gave you his back and bent slightly at the knee.

He could not be serious right now.

“My house is just a few more blocks away. I’ll carry you.”

Okay. He was actually serious. Eren was about to give you a piggyback ride.

You didn’t intend to laugh, but it was only because this situation was so ridiculous—and partly because of your own anxiety, fizzling at the thought alone.

Eren took it differently, shooting you a comically offended look when he said, “What? You think I can’t carry you?” He straightened tall, shoved his hands into his pockets, and began walking away. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

“Wait!”

You wanted to blame it on your feet or say you didn’t want to slow him down, but you had to be honest with yourself: were you really going to pass up this opportunity?

Eren flashed you a smile over his shoulder. “That’s what I thought.”

You ignored his boasting and began removing your shoes. He took them from you with one hand, then let you hop onto his back. His body didn’t give like you expected, and his arms were sturdy as they looped around your thighs. 

You hadn’t had a piggyback ride since you were probably eleven years old, but you could say with certainty that you didn’t remember it feeling like this. Eren’s neck was warm against your arms in the crisp night air. His hands were even hotter; you thought they might sear into the backs of your thighs.

Eren jostled you forward, higher onto his back. He warned, “Hold on tighter, or else you’re gonna fall off.” 

You hugged him, your chest pressing into his back. You’d never been this close to him before. His hair, only loosely tied back now, brushed against your face. His cologne was faint—warm like amber, but there was something refreshing that tickled your nose. You drew closer to him, inhaling the scent. 

Eren worried you felt the roll of his throat when your breath broke over the nape of his neck. How embarrassing that something as childish as a piggyback ride could send his heart racing. Suddenly, he was back in junior high, and it was his first time holding a girl’s hand. 

If this was all he’d have of you tonight, he’d be happy. Delighted. Even if it meant he’d end up waking up with a sore back. He wanted to earn back your crush, even if he wasn’t so sure it ever truly went away. 

Eren set you down on his porch and fished for his keys in his back pocket. Once inside, the house was blackout dark. You stilled in the entryway, entirely unaware of your surroundings but listening as Eren walked ahead.

Not a second later, Eren flipped on a light from the other room. It was bright enough to hurt your eyes at first, but at least you could see the floor now.

Eren stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He wore a look of trepidation, staring at you like you were some scared little puppy he’d rescued. 

“Can I get you some water?” he asked.

“Sure. Thank you.”

Eren gestured toward the sofa and offered a clunky, “Make yourself at home,” before disappearing around the corner. 

You’d hardly made yourself comfortable (if that was even possible in this situation) before he returned. You didn’t even realize how rigid your joints were until you had to uncross your arms and reach for the water bottle Eren handed you. 

You wouldn’t call the feeling anxiety. It was more like anticipation. The ‘will they or won’t they?’ moment of the night. 

Eren sat on the opposite side of the old couch, and it squeaked beneath his weight. “I imagine you wouldn’t want to sleep on the couch in a house full of guys,” he said as he settled into the cushions. “Take my room, if you want. I’m fine sleeping out here.”

You nearly choked on your water. “I’m not going to take your bed.” You couldn’t, possibly. You didn’t think you’d even seen his room before. “You didn’t even need to go through the trouble of letting me stay the night.”

“Out of all my troubles,” Eren said with a certain warmth to his face, discernible in the lowest of lights, “you staying the night is the least of them.”

You smiled at him. 

You smiled at him, and you had not the slightest inclination how deeply it tugged at his heart. The smile was shy, no greater than a curl of the corners of your mouth, yet Eren desired nothing more than to memorize the shape of it underneath his lips. 

“Okay,” you finally agreed. You could have ended it there, and you probably should have, but his unreadable gaze had you skittish and rambly. “But, really, if it’s too much—if you want me to go, I can call a—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

You stammered, pretending you had something, anything, to say. Something changed, but you couldn’t say what. There was a shift in energy, a new glint to his eyes—in the look he was giving you. 

Maybe it would be more accurate to say that everything had changed. 

There wasn’t much air in your voice when you said, “I don’t want to go, either.”

Your admission was barely a whisper. So delicate and saccharine that Eren wasn’t even sure you intended to say it aloud. Your eyes went big and genuine, as if you had revealed some secret you’d been holding onto for who knew how long. 

He had the same look on his face, like he barely clung onto what little composure you hadn’t stolen from him yet. You liked seeing him like that—such an unguarded expression on a face that was normally hardened. Eyes soft and electric, all at once. You never thought he’d look at you in such a way, and you didn’t want it to end. 

Now or never.

“Eren?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounded just as taken as yours.

Eren knew you as anything but bold, but right then, you were incredibly so. Purring your words when you asked him, “Why are you always so nice to me?” 

The distant light from the kitchen cast shadows along the angles of his jaw, highlighting how it tensed. “Am I?”

You nodded. Slowly.

“How so?”

“You know,” you said knowingly. You stretched your leg across the couch, languid, inching closer to him until you had it draped over his lap as if you’d done it a million times before. “You walk me home when I’m drunk. Carry me when my feet hurt.” You nudged your foot beneath his hand, encouraging him to place it atop your leg. “You let me spend the night and even offer me your bed.”

You felt oh so courageous now, but you knew you’d regret the shenanigans the next time you saw Eren on campus. You could already see the smug smile he’d give you from across the hall or from the far side of the green—wherever you’d inevitably run into him next. You would turn into a puddle right on the spot. 

But none of that mattered tonight. You heard him stifle the groan at the back of his throat as your foot grazed over the front of his pants, and you needed to hear it again. 

“Not to mention,” you retracted your leg, sat back onto your calves, and leaned into him, giggling, “you tutored me in anatomy for an entire semester without complaining once.”

He looked from the hand you’d rested on his leg to your face. You were so close, knees bumping against the side of his thigh. He wanted to keep you there, he thought, as his hand cupped your cheek. You tried your best not to melt into him. 

“I think I might have complained once,” Eren said with a smile in his voice. His thumb traced over your skin. “But I can’t help myself. You’re very cute when you’re drunk and when you’re proud after passing a quiz.” He unexpectedly grinned. “And when you hold your textbook too close to your face when you read.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.”

You pulled a face but didn’t argue any further. You couldn’t, not with how close you were to him now, the tips of your noses nearly brushing. He still held your face as he swiped his thumb along your bottom lip. You wetted them, wanting a taste. 

Yes, you’d found yourselves here, but neither of you wanted to be the first to crumble the wall you’d spend an entire semester building together. One so tall that there were times you couldn’t see over it. 

Eren caressed your face. You moved with him, tilting in until your forehead pressed against his, and you could feel his breath on your lips when you told him, “I think I still have a crush on you.”

“Yeah. I know.” He wasn’t his usual cocky self about it. He sounded soft; he was relieved. 

Your hand traveled up his thigh, and you felt the muscles twitch as you went. He wondered if you had any idea what you were doing to him—how insane you’d driven him. You had to. 

“So,” you said, long and drawn-out. Your hand palmed over the tent in his jeans. He was hard. Much harder than you’d expect from some harmless flirting. “Are you going to do something about it?”

“Fuck,” Eren muttered under his breath. “C’mere.”

His hand slipped into your hair, fingers curling around the back of your head to pull you to him. What you thought would be a crash of lips was much more affectionate. Instead of kissing you as if he believed he could make up for lost time, he kissed you like he knew he had all the time in the world with you, finally. 

Eren’s lips were soft, every movement thoughtful as he coaxed apart your lips. His tongue was hot and licking against your own and made your head spin. You snatched a fistful of his shirt in some vain attempt at grounding yourself, but the longer he made out with you, taking his time with no destination in mind, the more helpless you became. 

“Eren.”

It left you in a gasp. A moan he could swallow up before it met the air. 

Either he didn’t hear you or he ignored it. He angled your head slightly, exposing your neck for him to explore. He kissed the corner of your mouth and down your jaw until you felt his lips at the hollow below your ear. 

“Eren,” you repeated, louder this time, more needily, because he’d begun kissing at your pulse point. 

“Hm?” he hummed, unbothered. Oblivious to how desperately turned on you were, how just his teeth skimming the delicate skin of your neck had your thighs clenching. 

“That’s why you didn’t want me to leave, right?” you said between heavy breaths. You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt him suck just above your collarbone, where he’d surely leave a bruise. 

You rubbed your hand where you could feel his cock straining beneath the zipper of his jeans. When his breathing faltered, you reached to undo the button. 

“Because you’ve thought about this before,” you murmured. With his jeans opened, you snuck a hand below his boxers and wrapped your hand around his cock. “Because you were hoping this would happen.” You nuzzled your face into his neck, peppering kisses of your own, noting his quickening pulse as you began stroking him, base to tip. “Because you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Yes,” Eren groaned. He would have tried harder to hold it back, but his patience was already waning as he staved off his urge to rut into your hand. 

“I’ve thought about it, too,” you confessed. 

That broke him. Before you knew it—before he knew it—he had you pinned between him and the couch.

Your back hit the cushion with another whine from the springs, louder and more obnoxious than the one earlier. When Eren kissed you again, he was no longer taking his time. Because you were right, he couldn’t help himself. Not around you, at least, and not after hearing you wanted him in the same ways he needed you. 

It wasn’t long before the couch became too cramped for your liking, limbs slipping and spilling until you thought you might fall onto the floor. Only when your head dangling off the couch forced your lips to separate did you have a minute to catch your breath—or at least try to. 

“You said,” you panted, collecting yourself. “You said I could sleep in your room. Maybe you could show it to me now…”

Eren felt hazy, brain short-circuiting for the obvious reason, but your implication was just heavy-handed enough for him to catch on.

“Yeah. Okay.”

He helped you upright, fumbling around one another, climbing the stairs in a clumsy hurry until you were tripping over your own feet because you couldn’t imagine keeping your hands off each other for even a second. 

Behind his closed bedroom door, Eren’s hands became reckless as they pawed over your body, anywhere they could. You could feel the desperation, the firmness in his touch that made you weak in the knees and struggle to suppress your whispers. Each tiny sound encouraged him, riling him up further until he had you braced against the wall. 

His forearms, planted on either side of you, kept you caged in place, but you would have stayed there for him more than willingly. Forever, if you could. His mouth on yours was commanding enough that he could take you with him wherever he pleased. 

You hated yourself for getting more turned on at just the thought. 

Taking him by his loose, unzipped jeans, you tugged him close and hooked a leg around his waist. His cock pressed between your legs, and you ground against him because if you didn’t, you swore you might explode. You were only human, after all.

And, God, Eren wanted to give you everything you wanted—everything he had. There was a part of him that wanted to make you wait, maybe even beg for him, but like you, he was also only human. 

When he pulled back from your kiss, chest rising and falling with each labored breath, he could only tell you, “Bed.” 

With a bobble of your head, you repeated, “Bed,” and separated. 

Eren went to turn on his bedside lamp, and you figured it time to shed from your tight clothes. You didn’t think he’d be able to easily get you out of your top. After all, Hitch had to help you into it. 

The lamp cast a low, almost orange glow, but it was enough to make you feel keenly aware of his gaze on you as you peeled off your shirt. It bunched as you snaked it over your head, its slinky fabric hugging your body and revealing your bra with a subtle bounce of your tits. Every part of it, of you, was so shamefully sexy. Eren couldn’t get enough. 

As you went to take off your jeans, Eren neared you in a step. His hands closed over yours as if to tell you Let me do it. You watched silently as he opened the front of your jeans, his hands curving around your hips and shimmying the fitted denim down your legs. Once they fell and pooled at your ankles, you kicked them aside. All the while, Eren kissed down the crook of your neck, the spot he learned you liked, especially when he sucked there. 

Freed from the constraints of your night-out clothes, you pushed back from him and let yourself collapse onto his bed. You sprawled out with a stretch of your back. It felt so wonderful to lie against the billowy comforter, to finally be off your feet. You nestled around, relaxing like you could have lulled off right then—almost. 

The little sound you gave, a sweet moan of relief you didn’t even realize you’d let slip, made Eren’s cock twitch before he could even touch you. The sight of you, ready and beneath him, had him overwhelmed, to say the least. He didn’t know where to look—he didn’t even know where to start. 

His fingertips, though lightly calloused, felt exceedingly gentle as he trailed them along your bare skin. So softly that if you shut your eyes, you might not even know he was there. He started below the underwire of your bra, then down the length of your stomach. He tickled at your hipbone, and you squirmed so cutely beneath him.

How sensitive. 

Eren wanted to say something witty, but the sight of you stirring below him had him spacey and quiet. Even the chuckle he gave was hardly audible, just a huff through his nose. 

He only faltered when he reached the band of your underwear. In his fleeting lucidity, he blinked, hard, like it would clear away the fog. He stared down at you as if you’d given him a reason to be suspicious. 

Before you could ask what was wrong, he spoke first. “How are you?”

You mirrored his suspicion, eyebrows knitting together. “I’m good. Um, how are you?”

His face scrunched, and you thought he was about to say Not good. It made you nervous. You perched on your elbows, interested, waiting for him. He ran his fingers through his hair, as he always did when he was trying really hard to concentrate. 

“We’re a little past exchanging pleasantries, don’t you think?” you teased, mainly because you didn’t know what else you were supposed to say. 

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Eren brought his hand to his head as if he could capture his thoughts before they slipped away. “Like, I mean—” Coherency was out of reach, especially with you laid out in front of him, head tilted with curiosity, staring up at him through pretty, heavy lashes. Had they always been that long?

Finally, he blurted out, “Are you still drunk?” 

Oh. 

You let out the breath of air you were holding. Thinking over your answer, you took an inventory of every feeling in your body, every fiber of your being only wanting him. 

“Not really,” you said with a shrug. “Those pancakes were a real lifesaver.”

Eren still looked hesitant. You took his hand in yours and gave a small squeeze, smiling up at him. “I want this. Like, really, really want this.” 

That softened him up, and he gave a short laugh. With your assurance, his fingers began their work again, pulling lightly at your underwear. As he played with the fabric, his once-boyish expression turned more brazen as he asked, “Then is it okay if I touch you here?” 

His voice was gruff, the timbre of it still ringing in your ears even after he stopped talking.

“Yes,” you murmured, eyes fixed on him, on his fingers. They pushed past your panties despite your hope that he’d take them off entirely.

That single, breathy word gave Eren the go-ahead to crawl over you. He planted one hand into the mattress to hold himself up, the other traced the crease of your thigh teasingly—but it was more like he was teasing himself. You were still propped on your elbows, close enough to Eren that with a tilt of your head, you were kissing him again. 

He glided his fingers between you, tracing your entrance but not dipping any further. 

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, still playing with you. He’d circle your clit, just until your jaw went slack, then he’d let up. “All for me?” 

“Mhm.” You exhaled indulgently when his fingers returned to rubbing your clit. When you lifted your hips, his circles became tighter, quicker, giving you exactly what you needed. You let go then, allowing your wobbly elbows to give out. Eren chased after you, nipping down your neck and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. 

Eren, Eren, Eren. Thoughts of him, only him consumed you. Consumed by how good he made you feel and every place you wanted him.

And when you cried, “Ah—all for you,” you certainly weren’t thinking about how desperate you sounded for a guy who’d been nothing more than your lab partner until a couple of hours ago. 

That made him snap. In one impulsive motion, Eren stood and hooked his fingers around your underwear, tearing them off with ease. Once they were out of his way and lost amongst your other garments, his hand was rightfully back between your legs. 

He pumped his middle finger inside you first, curling it just right and putting an arch in your back. You thought he’d be arrogant about it, how he already had you (quite literally) bending to his will, but he was way past that. He was wholly lost in you, every bit of you. Your tiny gasps spilling from your kiss-swollen lips, your bra and how its straps had limply fallen past your shoulder to expose the supple skin of your chest. How pretty your cunt looked taking his finger. 

Eren’s pace ignited that delicious, familiar feeling within you. But just as quickly as it began burning in the lowest part of your stomach, you lost it just as fast. 

With a frustrated sob, your eyes snapped open to see why he’d so rudely edged you like that.

Eren tore his shirt over his head and threw it aside—another article of clothing you’d have to sort through later. “I wanna go down on you.”

You felt his words hot at the back of your neck—either that, or it was the sight of his deceivingly toned stomach. Or it was the fact that his words didn’t waver as he spoke so freely to you. Whatever it was, you couldn’t decide before Eren started stripping off his jeans. And if you were still unsure why you’d clammed up, the sight of him hard in his boxers–large and threatening to undo you—was most certainly the reason. 

You tried your best to look him in the face when you asked, “Don’t you think we should be fast? All of your roommates are home.”

That was the last thing Eren wanted. He wanted to have you, all to himself, for as long as you’d allow. 

But that was easy for him to say now; his willpower had already started waning. 

“They’re sleeping. Don’t worry about them.” Eren thumbed soothingly against your inner thigh. It made it difficult to say no to him. At least until he cracked a small, devilish smile. “I thought you said you were quiet.”

The daggers you shot him said enough. You had only started to bite back when Eren shut you up. He leaned over you, shrouded you in his warmth—even warmer was his mouth, his tongue, at your neck, running along the silky skin. 

Eren sucked at the lobe of your ear, and the airy giggle you gave traveled right to his cock. He kissed your collarbone as he dragged down the cups of your bra. The feeling of his bedroom air against your perked nipples sent goosebumps scattering across your body. His hot tongue quelled the chill, and you rewarded him with a moan—even louder when he took your nipple into his mouth.

You were so, so sensitive. All for him, too. Eren craved to learn every nook on your body he could kiss and every sound you’d make in response. He wanted to discover every last part of you, especially the ones that would have you wrecked. 

The kisses continued down your stomach, with him lowering to his knees on the carpet. Taking your legs, one in each hand, he pulled them back to make room to settle between. He placed your thighs on his shoulders and scooted you in close until your bottom half hung off the side of the bed. 

Eren palmed over the tops of your thighs and let the flesh mold to his hands. He left kisses there, too, his lips so close to where you wanted him the most. 

“Let me taste you.” His voice was a quiet plea. He pressed kiss against your inner thigh, then another, with his eyes fluttering shut like he wanted to savor you. “Please.”

You must have lost your voice somewhere in your throat. You could only nod a response, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Eren gleamed up at you. He clearly wanted to say something but was smart enough not to risk it this time. 

He kissed you first, then gave a flat lap of his tongue against you, just a taste. He licked you slowly, and even that was enough to make you suck a breath in through your clenched teeth. 

“Spread your legs wider for me.” You did as you were told and swore you felt him grin against you. “Good girl.”

You made a humiliating sound at that. One you didn’t expect, and Eren definitely didn’t expect either. It excited him, knowing how weak you were to his words. His voice. Him. 

With you fully on display for him, Eren couldn’t resist burying his face into you. His tongue darted to your clit, each flick another pulse of electricity at the base of your spine. 

You raised your hips to meet his mouth. His tongue remained steady, never letting up as he leaned into a rhythm he thought you might like—one that had you lacing your fingers in his hair. 

With a little more time, angling and guiding his tongue to just the right spot, you began seeing white behind your eyelids. 

“Eren—ah,” you frantically panted, “right there.”

He had his pointed tongue against your clip, licking in tandem with your rocking hips. When your thighs began shaking, he wrapped his arms around them and locked you into place. Even when you swore it was too much, you couldn’t slip away.

Eren continued having you feverishly, filling the bedroom with a mixture of your wispy cries and groans of his own. He was just as desperate for you to come as you felt, worshipping every squeak and squirm he could get from you.

“Eren, I—”

His eyes landed on yours. Not breaking his pace, he replaced his tongue with his thumb. “You want more?”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“You want my fingers?” His thumb stilled. You mourned the loss only for him to dip his finger inside you. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whined. “Yes.”

He used two fingers this time, collecting his spit and your slick before pumping them in and out of you. He leaned in, gave your clit a few kitten licks, and picked up right where he had left off. 

You were getting close, so fucking close, and if time could allow for it, you would have stayed in that feeling forever, just shy of becoming entirely undone. 

Admittedly, there were many times when you imagined Eren having his way with you, wondering what it’d be like for him to finger and fuck you. But never did you think he’d want you this way, let alone beg for it. And you couldn’t have possibly imagined how the sight would absolutely ruin you.

Eren’s face, flushed in a blossomy pink that spanned his nose and cheeks, shoved between your thighs, devouring you whole as he stretched you with his fingers. You were so wet; he was wet. Soaked, actually, in a mess you might have cared more about if you weren't about to come. 

His green eyes, darkened like you’d never seen before, found yours. He moaned. He felt pathetic, unable to stop himself from shoving his boxers down his thighs. He took hold of himself, aching for the slightest bit of relief, because you were quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He knew you’d look even better when you were coming on his tongue. 

You whimpered when you saw him fisting his cock, nice and fast. He was so hard for you, and you weren’t shy about staring. You were too curious to see how he liked it, watching him fuck his fist with quick breaks to give extra attention to his tip. You thought about how he’d fuck you, how he’d like it then, and it pushed you over the edge.

Your cries came out choppy and strained until they cut out entirely. You sobbed silently, carelessly, rolling your hips over Eren’s tongue and helping his finger dip against that spot over and over again. You wanted to drag out the feeling for as long as you could. By the end, you were trembling, exhausted, and could no longer keep your eyes open. 

Eren had to stop pumping himself, or else he would have come from that alone. He sat back on his calves, one of his hands stroking your thigh while his other gently rubbed your clit. His touch was no greater than a feather’s, just to ease you back down. You looked like you needed it, all wrecked, legs limply pulled apart, just like he hoped. 

God. He annoyed himself for ever pretending he never wanted you, because you—you were a dream. 

And the only thing that could wake him from such a dream was your voice.

“Eren?”

He loved it when you said his name.

You sat up to look at him properly. It felt like there were a ton of bricks on your chest. Eren appeared quite the opposite, entirely unfazed. He had his cheek smushed against your thigh, staring unabashedly at the finger he lazily pushed back inside you. You jolted, still sensitive, still spasming around his finger. 

Eren felt mesmerized by the feeling of you sucking him in for more. He didn’t even look up when he replied, “Hm?”

You would have normally found the situation embarrassing, but you were still so touchy from your orgasm that the winding feeling in your stomach had already returned. Coiling tighter and tighter, it begged to snap again. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

He loved hearing that even more. 

If he were a dog, you’d imagined his ears would have perked up like you said the magic words. 

“What was that?” Eren asked, more playfully than you expected. You didn’t like it, especially not when paired with his grin. “I couldn’t hear you. You were mumbling.”

“You heard me the first time.”

He ran his finger down your thigh. “Say it again.”

It tickled. You fussed, “Eren, come on—”

“No, I don’t think that was it. I think you said something else.”

“Just—” You sighed begrudgingly before giving in. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me, Eren.”

He positively beamed at you, proud of both you and himself. He reached for his boxers, still hanging mid-thigh, and removed them entirely. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Eren straightened out and didn’t give you the chance to respond before flipping you onto your stomach. You bounced against the mattress when you landed with loud, conspicuous squeaks accompanying you. 

You felt Eren’s hand on your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. His fingers skated lower, down to your bra before undoing the clasp. When you pushed onto your hands, you felt your bra dangle loosely around your arms. 

Eren took you by your hips and raised you to your knees. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he said as he stroked himself with one hand, giving a light smack to your ass with his other. 

“Eren!” you yelped. “Roommates!”

“I thought I told you not to worry about them,” he said, punctuated with another spank. 

You could still feel the print of his hand when you heard rustling behind you. You peered over your shoulder to see Eren tearing open a condom. He rolled it onto his cock, all the while, his eyes kept you, naked and with your ass in the air, pinned to the bed. 

He flattened a hand against your lower back, then spread you with the tip of his cock aligned with your entrance. 

Eren guided himself inside more slowly than he wanted to, listening to you whimper as you adjusted to his size. It was a bit of a stretch but easy enough for him to push inside, having already prepped you with his fingers and mouth, leaving you aching for him to fill you with more. 

Once his pelvis was flush against you, he felt you flutter around him, squeezing his cock so perfectly he thought you must be made for him. A low groan bubbled in his throat, nearly a growl. The sound made your heart skip, right between your lungs, and you clenched to encourage another. 

“You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that,” Eren said in a hiss of pleasure. 

“Doing what?” you asked innocently. Then you did it again. 

Despite the warning, Eren didn’t protest it. Instead, he started thrusting into you leisurely. He was self-indulgent about it, spreading you with his hands so he could admire how well you took his cock. 

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he muttered, quiet enough that it was as if he were talking to himself. “So fucking good.”

“Eren.”

The whine in your voice drove him wild. 

His hands, large and demanding, gripped your sides. The blunt ends of his nails dug into the fat of them as he pulled you back to meet every snap of his hips. The smacking sound of skin-on-skin bounced off the bedroom walls, but you didn’t complain this time. You only let your head drop between your shoulders, eyes screwing shut as you became lost in the throes of pleasure all over again. 

You reached a hand back to grab ahold of him where you could. He didn’t stop fucking you to ask, “What is it?” 

He folded over you, hand snaking up your neck and taking hold of your chin. He turned you to look at him, to see what you wanted. But you couldn’t form anything other than wimpy chants of ah, ah, ah, sounding mangled through your squished cheeks. 

“Tell me how you want it.”

His words alone made you bite back a moan.

Finally, you managed to say, “Harder.”

Eren smiled, slack-jawed and toothy, and you would have found it irresistible, yet totally ill-fitting, if you’d have seen it. But how else was he supposed to react? 

He placed a kiss at the base of your neck, then between your shoulders. It was unexpectedly doting, until you felt his hand curve around your front. Though you knew what was coming, you still squealed when he hoisted you upright with your back sealed against his chest. 

Eren held you there, fucking up into you, harder, like you asked of him. Your flimsy bra flopped around your arms with each of his thrusts. He groped at your breast, taking your nipple between his fingers, rolling and pinching at it until you were mewling. 

He continued taking you as if you’d always been his, and you let him have you. You let him use you like you only existed for his pleasure, with your head feeling heavy as it lolled back against him. 

But you were so much more than that. Eren was determined to make you come again. This time, he wanted to feel it. 

“Touch yourself,” Eren breathed, right into your ear. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. “I want to hear you when you come this time.”

Your hand slithered down between your legs. The very tips of your fingers bumped into Eren’s cock as you got yourself off. Legs quivering with the added pressure, you were practically vibrating when you came, your heart pounding in your ears. There was no double he heard you this time around. 

It was a challenge to remain upright. You fell from Eren’s hold and landed forcefully on the bed, him toppling right along with you. You were still riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm as he fucked you deep into the mattress; it had your thighs squeezing together so nicely for him. 

“I’m—ah, fuck—I’m close,” Eren grunted.

He surprised you by pulling out, but you realized it was only to roll you onto your back. He manhandled you like you weighed nothing, had your arms tossed above your head and pinned in place with a single hand around your wrists. He pushed back inside you, hard and fast, with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“I need to see you.” 

Your stomach flipped at his words as if they were poetry. Fuck. He had you so irrevocably wrapped around his finger, you thought. And perhaps you were merely lovelorn and searching for something that wasn’t there, but you swore he appeared just as ensnared as you. 

Your mouth sought out his in a sloppy kiss. It was suckling lips and colliding teeth, smothered grunts and groans as you ground against one another. But you didn’t care. You enjoyed every messy, frantic minute of it. 

You wanted to touch him. Wriggling until he released his hold on your wrists, you took his face between your hands. His eyes were moony and heavy-lidded and had you swooning. 

“Fuck, Eren—I want you to come,” you gasped.

Easy enough.

He came, hard. As perverted as it may sound, you wished you had a camera. You wanted to remember how his eyes snapped shut and to record every sound. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering, grinding as if he could reach any deeper. 

Eren’s breath was hot against your already sweltering skin. It was hard to breathe, especially under his weight, but you wanted to stay there and hold him for a little while longer. 

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t realize you’d been grazing your fingers up and down the back of his neck until he lifted off you. He let his gaze linger on your face, one last look, then nudged his nose against yours before getting up. 

You laid still, only watching as Eren disposed of the condom. Your legs felt too soft and lazy to move, so you followed him with your eyes instead as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants. 

“The invitation to stay the night still stands, right?” you asked. Admittedly, with some sass. 

“No, I was actually going to call you an Uber home.” Eren rolled his eyes. “Of course it does. What kind of guy do you take me for?” 

You giggled as you finally sat up. “Where’s your bathroom?” 

“Down the hallway, last door on the right.” Eren took one look at you, then started digging around in his dresser. He tossed something at you, aiming it at your head by the looks of it. You snatched it just in time; it was one of his t-shirts. “You can wear that.”

You held it by the sleeves and gave it a once over. “Is that weird?”

“It wasn’t until you asked that.”

You pulled the tee over your head and adjusted it as you stood. Your underwear came next, but you felt more hesitant to put back on your jeans. 

“They’re sleeping, I promise,” Eren assured as he put on a shirt of his own. “Just be quick.”

“Okay.” You left but poked your head back in to say. “I’m leaving the door cracked so I know which room is yours.”

He laughed. “All right.”

You followed his instructions, trying to be quick about it. You peed, washed your hands, and only stared at the fresh hickey on your collarbone for ten seconds before rushing back down the hallway.

Eren was in bed when he saw the door swing open. “Look at you, Ms. C Plus, not getting lost.”

You made a face at him. “Whatever, Brian.”

Right on cue, he complained, “It was one time.”

For whatever reason, you didn’t join him in bed right away. You felt a bit like a deer in headlights, blinking at Eren. He looked sleepy, his hair unkempt from your fingers. Seeing him like this, with you dressed in his shirt, about to curl up under his sheets—were you supposed to go along with this as if it were normal?

When you finally thought of something to say, Eren cut in first, “Don’t you dare try to take the couch after that.” 

That was exactly what you were about to do.

He chuckled, knowing he was right by the stubborn purse of your lips. He lifted the blanket for you—once again, as if this were entirely normal for you to do—and said, “Get over here already. I’m getting cold.”

Eren was extremely difficult to say no to, but you knew that already. You crawled into his bed without contest and let him tuck the comforter over you. 

Either his pillows were really soft, or you just felt that exhausted because your eyelids went immediately heavy. Eren reached over you to turn out the light, then let his arm fall on top of you. He hugged your waist and didn’t hesitate to pull you into him.

He nuzzled into the back of your neck, stealing a giggle from you. “Are you always this clingy after sex?”

Eren hummed an affirmative sound, tickling you again. He was most definitely never this clingy after sex. But there was no way he could keep his hands to himself, not with how good you looked in his shirt, barely long enough to cover anything. Maybe his tensions in lending you his shirt weren’t entirely pure—so sue him. You wearing his clothes was a sight he could get used to. One he had a feeling he’d get to see much more often.

The thing with Eren is, you’d think he was joking with his words, but if he was given the chance and the permission to do so, he would absolutely do it. He’s the devil after all. To him, there’s nothing more exhilarating than to have people witness just how much you belong to him, how much you are trapped under his spell, how much control he has over you—body, mind, and soul.

Eren doesn’t belong to you.

You belong to him.

Your lover slides his hand from your thigh to the curve of your waist, pushing up the fabric of your dress to reveal enough skin to anyone who passes by. Lucky for you, no one seems to be around at the time. Your roommate Annie isn’t here either, and it’s so tempting to just pull him close and drag him down to your bed but Eren stops you before you can even start.

“But that can wait,” he says, breaking away. “We shouldn’t miss our reservation.”

He has booked a table in a beautiful rooftop restaurant of a five-star hotel, where you can dine together under the night sky, overlooking the skyline while you uncover the secrets of the stars. You’re not sure how he has all the money to pay for it—but then again, his parents are quite wealthy.

A week ago, he left you a bit baffled when he said that he wanted to celebrate his birthday with you—only with you, and no one else. “What about your parents? Or your friends?” you asked him with a frown as you leaned against his side at the backseat of his car, spending time together before your next lecture started. “Don’t you think they’re gonna be upset? They care about you a lot.”

“Is it so bad…” Eren leaned in close to cup your cheeks with both hands, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours. “For me to want to spend my special night with the person I love the most?”

Your heart thrashed madly but you kept your face still, only allowing yourself to mirror his sweet, juvenile smile. You were beyond elated but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to tease you for it. “Oh, so you love me the most?”

“Well, actually, Barbara Palvin holds first place but since she’s not available—“

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

You feel honored, overjoyed to have him as your boyfriend, which is why you try your best to be the best girlfriend in return. You’ve worn your fancy, backless dress, styled your hair to look naturally wavy when it took you a whole hour to make it seem that way. Your make-up is much more sensual than usual, making you look both expensive and bold.

By the look of it, Eren wants you just as much as you want him now. The more you act reserved, the harder he’ll chase after you. You can’t help but feel like you want to push him to the limit, just like what you did to him last week. You can still recall how rough he was in bed after you edged him multiple times. You’d do anything to have him fuck you in that way again.

“Okay,” you reply nonchalantly, snatching your purse from the counter. “Shall we go, then?”

“Sure, after you wear this.” Eren hands you over a black gift box with a red bow wrapped around it.

You take it in your hands with your forehead creasing in confusion. “What is it?”

“Your anniversary gift.” Mischief returns in his eyes. “I know our anniversary is not until two weeks from now, but… I got too excited.”

With knitted brows, you open the box, only to find yourself staring wide-eyed at the present.

“Or should I say,” he corrects with a naughty grin, “My anniversary gift.”

***

Eren is a devil in disguise, one that tastes like sinful desire.

He seduces you like one, with the way he places his hand on your exposed thigh as he drives his Ford. His fingers lay securely on the inner side of your thigh, his thumb stroking back and forth on the supple skin while he maintains his eyes on the road. “I love this dress on you,” he praises in a husky voice, eyes glancing at the red thigh-high slit dress you’re wearing. “You’re gorgeous.”

Sure enough, the color compliments your skin. The silky fabric hugs you perfectly in places he wishes he could let his lips wander. The dress comes with strappy back details, showcasing enough skin on your backside for his eyes to feast on. Eren lets his hand linger a little too close to where you want him the most, causing your breath to hitch in your throat when he slides his fingers to the valley between your legs, two digits skimming up and down your clothed heat. He only does it to tease, removing his hand at once when he notices you stiffen at the touch.

“I hope there’s no traffic ahead,” he says, keeping his smile to himself as he rests his hand on his gear instead. “I’m starving.”

You are too, for something else entirely.

He enjoys having these effects on you. And after what you did to him last time, the way you made him plead for your touch and beg for his release, you know just how much you’re affecting him too. Two can play at this game. You can lean over and pull down his zipper with one hand if you want to. You can have his cock coming alive in your mouth as he tries to concentrate on not driving past the red light. But then what? You’re only going to give him the satisfaction of having his power over you, knowing that you’re the first one to give in to temptation. You’re not going to yield just like that. He can tease you all night but if he wants to have his name slip past your lips in a sultry moan, he’s going to have to ask for it.

So, you keep yourself composed and simply mumble back. “Yeah, me too.”

That’s what you’re planning to do for the rest of the night. However, when you both are seated at your table, a male waiter approaches you with a bottle of champagne in his hands, and you know you’re about to lose your game. Because Eren has one thumb on the remote control, a wicked smile on his lips, and a lustful gleam in his eyes.

And he presses the button.

The underwear he’s given you as your—his—anniversary gift, suddenly starts to vibrate. You have expected it coming when you decided to wear it, knowing full well that your boyfriend would use it in public. But you’ve done that before so you came prepared. You knew how to keep your face straight even when you were drowning in pleasure. But right now, it’s different. This new sex toy he bought you—you didn’t expect the vibration to be this… intense.

You’re not sure whether it’s because of that very reason that you feel your body reacting ten times more sensitive than usual, or if it’s because your boyfriend is using a vibrator on you in the middle of a fancy restaurant, right in front of an innocent young man who’s now lighting up the candle on your table.

The garment of your panties is glued perfectly to your skin, making sure that the tiny, curved clitoral stimulator is sitting snugly against your body. No matter how hard you try to stay reticent, your body still jolts when you feel it shake the first time. Your eyes naturally dart to your boyfriend, a scowl forming quickly on your temple once you witness the triumph on his face.

Stop it right now. You speak through your eyes.

Okay, baby. He answers with a wink, but then you feel him switching the intensity, giving you the same sensation his fingers did a few nights ago. You chew on your bottom lip, your glower turning even more menacing. Eren brings his hand to his face, fingers covering his lips as a laugh nearly escapes him.

“How are you feeling tonight, Mr. Jaeger?” The waiter greets with a polite smile as he pours some wine into Eren’s tall glass.

“Never been better,” he answers, never taking his eyes off you. “How are you feeling tonight, baby? You look like you’re… enjoying yourself.”

Fuck you. You answer with your glare but your smile is saccharine sweet. “Of course, baby. This place is beautiful, I love it.”

Your clutch around the menu tightens until your nails turn white. Every time you lock gazes, Eren returns your ice daggers with a flirtatious look. Once the waiter leaves the table to get you your appetizer, you drop the menu book harshly on the table. “Eren—” You’re ready to complain with a growl but you have to refrain yourself at the last second when your boyfriend calls back the waiter.

“Sorry,” he says to the man with freckles on his face, ignoring the part where you try to kick his shin underneath the table. “Can you tell me the name of this wine?”

“Oh, this is Pol Roger Brut, Sir,” the waiter answers, completely oblivious to the way you’re now gripping tightly at your napkin, your fists clenching above your lap.

“Wait, is this the same champagne brand that they chose for Prince William’s wedding?” Your boyfriend asks, feigning curiosity.

“Why, yes, Sir, indeed. They also chose this one to celebrate Prince Harry’s wedding.”

“Huh, interesting.” Eren smiles, so innocently it’s disgusting. “It tastes a little bit like citrus.”

“Yes, Sir. It’s—“ The waiter’s words are interrupted when your body jerks and you accidentally knock your hand against the table. Eren just changed the setting again, this time messing around with its speed. It's getting more intense, sending immense waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. It’s borderline terrifying from how quickly it gets your thighs shaking in thrill. “Is everything all right, Ma’am?” The waiter immediately asks in concern, watching your face turn pasty. He must have been wondering whether you were feeling unwell, when the truth is, you’re just drowning in shame.

You can’t believe you’re about to cum in a family restaurant.

“She’s all right, Marco,” Eren says, reading the nameplate that’s strapped to the man's uniform with the filthiest grin on his lips. “She’s just… loving the wine just as much as I am.” The devil casually leans back on his seat, almost slouching even, as his thumb hovers once again over the remote. He’s tapping random buttons just to watch your face contorts in both pleasure and horror.

You have your fingers clawing against your thighs. “I’m—I’m fine,” you try to showcase a reassuring smile as you squeeze your legs together. The amount of pleasure that washes over you makes it hard for you to find your words but you manage. “Sorry, Marco, is it? Could you please leave us for a moment? We’ll call you again when we’re ready to—”

“What’s the special for today?” Eren smoothly cuts you off, switching the vibration mode and setting it up to maximum speed before he tosses it back inside his pocket. Without a single look of remorse fleeting across his face, he makes a steeple of his fingers, laying both hands on the table as he pretends to be giving Marco his full attention.

“Oh, umm…” Marco still eyes you worriedly before he spins his head toward your boyfriend. “We have Crevettes Sauce Boursin, Sir. It’s shrimp sautéed with sun-dried tomatoes, corn, and leeks in a garlic herb cream sauce.”

“Perfect,” Eren replies. “I’ll have that one. Honey, would you like it as well?”

Fuck. Your toes are curling, your thighs quivering as you feel your orgasm building up fast. “Y-yes.”

Your stutter echoes like music to his ears. Eren watches you with hungry eyes, biting the corner of his lip to stop himself from snickering at the sight. That look on your face, the way you look so humiliated, and yet, so eager to seek release… It turns him on.

Ah shit, his tongue probes against his cheek as his eyes size you up and down. I want to fuck her so bad.

He wonders if you’re dripping wet, drenching that new lingerie with your juices. You have no idea how much he wants to drag you to the nearest bathroom, shoves you inside one of the stalls, and takes you from behind with his fingers buried deep inside your mouth to stop you from making sounds. God, you look so fucking gorgeous tonight. Your make-up, your loose hair, and that fucking dress. He wants to ruin it. He wants to ruin you. Wants to have your lipstick smeared to your cheek and your eyelashes painted by his cum.

But he needs to be patient. Tonight, it’s all about revenge. He’s going to make you beg just like what you forced him to do last week.

“But baby,” Eren coos, batting his long eyelashes. “Didn’t you say you’re allergic to shrimps?”

Stop talking to me, oh my fucking God. A moan almost breaks free when you feel submerged under the stimulation he’s giving you, but you cover it up quickly with a cough. “Excuse me,” you say with a laugh, trying to stand on wobbly legs. “I, umm… I need to fix my…” You can’t even finish the words. You just snatch your purse and leave your table in such haste, it leaves Marco frowning in confusion.

“Sir, are you sure she’s okay?”

“She’s fine,” Eren confirms with his heavenly smile, watching you from behind and biting back his titter when you almost trip over your feet. “She’s just… a bit excited, I guess. It’s my birthday today.”

“Oh, congratulations! So, you’re celebrating tonight?”

He chuckles, eyes darkening with lust. “Not yet.”

***

The second you step into the women’s restroom, you run and lock yourself inside the nearest cubicle. You have one hand strapped against your mouth, your legs squashed together as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your hand finds the door, stopping yourself from falling as you can feel your strength leaving your body. When it comes—the feeling of ecstasy hitting you at once like the storm—a mewl departs from your lips but thankfully, it’s not loud enough to attract attention.

It’s one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had in your life, and you had it in a bathroom of a restaurant where you should spend your time celebrating with champagne and a fucking plate full of Crevettes Sauce Boursin.

“That bitch,” you mutter under your breath once you’ve come down from your high. Removing your underwear with one hand, a grimace replaces the blissful look on your face when you notice just how soaked it is. This is so humiliating but you can’t find the power to stay angry. You can’t deny the fact that Eren, as always, just gave you the pleasure you didn’t know you could experience. And again, you’re not going to give him the joy of having you dance in his palm. Staying upset would just make you look pathetic. You need to level up your game. Snatching the still vibrating sex toy away from your panties, you wear back your lingerie, fix your hair and clothes, and exit the restroom while sporting a nonchalant look.

When you return to your table, you see your boyfriend still slouching on his seat. His smirk is strapped permanently to his face, one hand buried inside the pocket of his slacks, and another one settled on the table. He has the remote control between his fingers, twirling it as if he’s playing with his car keys. “Took you a while,” he comments, clearly amused. “Did you moan my name when you cummed, baby?”

You toss your hair over your shoulder, putting on a facade as you place back your napkin on your lap. “I didn’t,” you reply, your face unreadable. “Because I didn’t cum.”

He snorts. “Liar.”

“Well, I didn’t.” You drag your eyes down from his face to your menu. “I just threw the toy away and fixed my make-up.”

He squints his eyes suspiciously at you, straightening his back. “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.” You stop a female waiter that passes by. “Hi, sorry.” You toss her a sweet smile, blatantly ignoring your boyfriend whose smirk begins to falter little by little. “I’d like to order.” The waiter takes out her notepad, listening intently as you read. “For my starter, I’ll have some mussels cooked in white wine, and for my main course…” You pretend to contemplate your decisions, but your body speaks a different story. Sliding your right foot away from your pump, you stretch your leg far enough to caress his thigh.

Eren jolts when he feels your foot rubbing against his crotch, your toe grazing against his zipper. You can feel him watching you as if he was trying to burn you alive. His jaw tightens as he sits still, trying to ignore the delicious friction you’re giving him.

“Sorry,” you direct your word to the waiter but you keep your eyes on him, lips twitching into a grin that’s just as devilish as the one he displayed earlier. “What’s the special for today again?”

You continue to rub him underneath the table as you listen to her answer. It doesn’t even take him thirty seconds before you can feel his length starting to take form, straining against the fabric of his pants. Your smile is everlastingly sweet, even when you can feel Eren’s heavy gaze on your face. “Oh yes, that’s right, Crevettes Sauce Boursin,” you repeat her reply, pressing your foot against him a little harder than intended. Eren’s body lurches forward from the sudden pressure, his knees almost bumping against the table.

That hurts, you bitch, his eyes seem to say and you almost laugh. “I think I would like to have Saumon Fumé instead.”

“Excellent choice, Ma’am. Would you like anything else? For dessert, maybe?”

You turn to face him, your lips pursing as you try to hold back your grin. “I don’t know. Would you like anything else, honey?” You mimic the way he called you earlier, even the mockery in his tone.

“No, I’m fine.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. His hand finds your ankle, gripping it tightly when you’re applying dangerous strokes against his bulge. “I already have something else planned for dessert.”

“Oh, you do?” Your tongue peeks out to wet your lip before you bite the corner of your lip, knowing how it drives him insane. “And what is that?”

“You’ll just have to wait to find out, honey.” Eren turns to the waiter, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “That will be all, thank you.”

The second the waiter takes her leave, he drops his angelic smile and smacks your foot away. “You almost crushed my balls!” He hisses, eyebrows furrowing in anger but you only cackle in return.

You can play this game all night long.

***

All jokes and teasing aside, feelings are running rampant, sexual tension is thick, and you both are struggling to let go of control. You’ve been stealing glances, your heart runs a little bit faster whenever your gaze meets his. Despite his earlier behavior, the devil has returned to his angelic side once you’ve both finished with your dinner.

Eren, as observant as ever, notices how you shiver slightly from the cold. He rises from his seat, shucks off his suit, and covers your shoulders with it. Subtle things like this don’t happen often. It makes your cheeks warm, your expression seeming a little too bashful when you thank him for it.

“Seems like somebody is getting shy,” he says, rolling up his sleeves to showcase his veiny arms.

You roll your eyes. “Shut up.”

You chat over a glass of wine, with his eyes occasionally darting down to your lips as you speak, just for a split second before he returns them to yours. Moments fly by so fast that by the time you check on your phone, an hour has passed by just with you exchanging conversations.

There’s live music playing in the background—a soft jazz rendition of Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me to The Moon. Eren grabs you by the hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles before he asks, “Will you dance with me?”

Your mouth tweaks in a coy smile. “I can’t believe you’re playing Prince Charming after what you did to me an hour ago.”

When a peal of his laughter resonates in your ear, you’re reminded of the reason why you fell for him so fast. “Would you rather have me go back to playing the devil?” He intertwines your hands together once you’ve placed his suit on your seat, leading you down to the dance floor. “I mean I can just fuck you right here.”

“Mmm, very tempting.” You land a hand on his shoulder as he settles his on the dip of your waist, your other hand tangled around his. “I think I’ll just settle for a kiss for now.”

“Well, since my queen requested it.” He kisses you softly on the lips, where he can feel your lips forming into a graceful smile just as much as you can feel his. It ends with him placing a playful peck on the tip of your nose before he widens the gap.

Eren sways his body from side to side, matching his steps to the slow beat of the song, and you follow his lead effortlessly. It’s almost magical, the atmosphere you’re in, slow dancing to a classic love song underneath the starry night sky. There’s amber in his viridian eyes, reflecting the lights of lanterns that illuminate the place. He’s ethereal, every part of him is, especially when he gazes at you with affection in his eyes.

“I don’t mind being stared at like I’m the only woman in the world,” you echo his words back to him.

“You are the only woman in my world,” he says, his gaze turning tender. “Thank you for going out with me tonight. I know you’ve been busy these days.”

It’s not a trick. You can witness the sincerity in his words. “Eren, it’s your birthday. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you mirror his smile. “Thank you for taking me here. This place is beautiful. I can’t believe you remember when I said I wanted to go here.”

“Oh, you said that? I didn’t know.”

You share giggles, already accustomed to his sense of humor. Once your laughter has dissipated, Eren leans in, close enough for the baby hairs on his temple to brush against your fringe. “I love you,” he whispers, closing his eyes as he presses your foreheads together. “Thank you for being in my life.”

“I love you too, Ren.” Happiness dances through your thoughts, causing your stomach to somersault in delight. “Happy birthday.” And when he kisses you again, delicate lips meeting softer ones, you wish time could stop for a moment. But even dreams have to stop eventually, and just like waking up from your sleep, you find it hard for your eyes to focus on him when he ends the kiss.

“I have a present for you,” you whisper, keeping your lips close to his as you speak. “It’s custom made and it took me a week to get it done so I’m a little bit late but I think it should be delivered to your apartment by tomorrow morning.”

“Oh?” He kisses you again, slowly, unable to withstand the temptation. “Can you tell me what it is?”

“It’s a surprise.” You pull away from him, widening the space between you. Any longer than that, and you won’t be able to stop kissing him.

“No, you can’t keep me wondering all night,” he whines before he displays his best puppy eyes. “Tell me about it, please? If you tell me yours, I’ll tell you the other surprise I have planned for us.”

“You have another surprise for me?”

“Mm-hmm. So, how is it gonna be?”

You’re tempted to keep him guessing because that naughty smirk on his lips looks so sexy on him. “Fine,” you sigh. “I made you some coupons.”

“Coupons?”

“Yeah.” For some reason, you can feel your cheeks burning up. “They’re, uhh… Use-me-as-you-please coupons.”

“What?”

“Don’t laugh at me but—” Now that you have to explain it out loud, you realize just how stupid this whole idea is. It was dumb of you to trust love advice coming from a stranger on the internet. “Since you can basically buy anything you want, I’m trying to give you something that only I can give you. So I made you some coupons that you can use on me. You can get, like, a free massage or ask me to cook you a special dinner or something. Some of them are blank too so you can fill them out however… you… want.” Your voice dies when you see his eyes glint in mischief, his crooked teeth peeking out behind his lips.

“However I want?” he repeats, his eyes shifting down to your lips again. He traps your chin between his fingers, pulling them down so you have no choice but to part your lips. He bites his lip as he catches sight of your tongue, wondering how it would look with his semen pooling inside your mouth. “You sure about that, Sweetheart?”

You can see the diabolical plans he has running through his mind right now, every bit of it is sexual, you’re sure of it. When he sees you nodding, he grins. “Well, I gotta do some research then.”

“What research?”

“Just, you know…” He slides one hand down your back, casually caressing your behind before he moves it back to your hip. “The things I want to do to you in bed.” He closes in on you, whispering into your ear. “You better start coming up with a safe word, baby, ‘cause I won’t stop no matter what you do. You want Daddy to take control, don’t you, baby girl?”

The fact that he can talk like this while still slow-dancing with you in the ballroom is beyond you. He chuckles, saying, “You’re so cute,” before he backs away. Right before the song ends, Eren gives you a sudden twirl that ends up with you almost losing your balance. He catches you in his arms, beaming at you like a child. “Swept you off your feet, didn’t I?” You slap him playfully on the chest in response, earning you a few deep chuckles from him.

“Now, here’s your surprise.” Releasing your body, he slides his hand inside the pocket of his pants, snatching a card and holding it right before your eyes. It’s a key to your suite, one that he has booked at the same hotel for the night. “Will you spend the night with me?” His smile is a bit too sheepish that it feels almost out of character.

“I’d love to, Ren.”

***

It’s only natural for you to expect your lover to push you against the wall once you enter your room but, to your dismay, he doesn’t lay a hand on you. He doesn’t even seem to be interested in doing so, which ultimately, leaves you perplexed. Eren simply unlocks the door, pushes it open, and waits for you to step inside. Closing the door behind you, he follows after your trail without a word.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you say as you let his suit slide down your shoulders, turning around to show him the knot that ties your dress together behind your back. “Can you untie the strap for me, please?” Of course, you could do it yourself, but you’re trying to give him signs that you want his hands on you.

Unfortunately for you, Eren doesn’t take the bait. He just hums in response, retrieves his suit from your hands, and lets it drape over one arm as he unfastens the strap that sits low on your backside. You can feel his fingers lingering a few seconds too long on the dip of your spine, hoping that he’ll let his hand wander just a little bit lower to cup your behind with his large palms. But Eren only says, “Done,” and walks away.

Damn it, you click your tongue in vexation. You remove your heels, intentionally taking your time to make it more obvious that you’re giving him an invitation to chase after you. Eren doesn’t even bother to look. He only plops himself down on the sofa, resting both legs on the large coffee table before him, and retrieves a plastic bag from his pocket. It’s filled with a few pre-rolled joints, you notice. He snatches one, settling it between his fingers as he rummages around for his lighter.

“I can’t believe you brought those.”

“Jean bought too much so he gave me some,” Eren answers, places the blunt between his lips, and lights it up. He takes a drag, tossing his head back as he paints clouds of smoke in the air. “Ah, fuck, that feels good,” he moans, smiling to himself. “Babe, can you turn off the lights? It’s too bright here.”

Great, now he’s completely distracted. With a defeated sigh, you do as he says. The second you switch off the lights, your chagrin leaves you at once. You’re awe-struck, impressed at the scenery that spreads widely on the other side of your window. Your room is located on the thirtieth floor and the city lays out like a carpet made of diamonds underneath. The windows don't just go from floor to ceiling–they are the walls. Sure, the translucent glass can make some people feel too exposed, but at the moment, you don’t mind. You’re just too captivated by the gorgeous cityscape to care about anything else.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Eren’s voice chimes in, his joint resting idly between his fingers. “My brother, Zeke, got married in this hotel and he rented out the entire floor for our family to stay. So I spent a night here and I was mesmerized by this view.” He brings the ashtray to his lap, tapping the ashes off his spliff as his smile turns bashful. “I, uh… I thought you’d like it too so I brought you here.”

That wasn’t… something you’d expected to hear, not from the devil himself. Eren has been acting sweet and thoughtful all night, his words tugging on your heartstrings. Maybe this is the reason why he’s not touching me just yet, you ponder. He wants to make it… romantic.

On a different occasion, you would’ve shuddered at the thought. Eren Jaeger and the word romantic don’t seem to belong in the same sentence. But right now, contentment warms you from within and you take a few strides toward his spot until you’re looming above him from behind the couch. Eren lifts his face in your presence, gazing at you with his skull resting on the couch.

“Thank you,” you say, lowering your head to close the gap. You can taste the earthy scent of marijuana on his lips as you kiss him upside down, moving your lips languidly against his before you deepen the kiss. Eren breathes heavily through his nose when your tongue slithers inside his mouth, his left hand going up to your face to slip his fingers between your strands. It’s sensual, the way you kiss him, one that will leave him unsatisfied once it ends. He robs a moan from your throat when he parts your lips wider, your mouth clasped against one another perfectly that you wish you could stay like this forever.

You try to get him under your spell but once the kiss ends, it’s you who’s left hypnotized. “Aren’t you going to take a shower?” He asks in a whisper, his fingers skating over your glistening lips.

“Yeah…” You’re so tempted to lean down again, tasting the flavor of his mouth once more. His lips—no, his entire being to you is like a drug, addicting, leaving you delirious when you can’t have him the way you want to. Funny how you’ve slept with him so many times and here you are, wanting him like a forty-year-old virgin dying for a touch. But maybe it’s exactly because you’ve embraced him that you start to want him more. Your body already knows how good he can make you feel, and it’s telling you—begging you—to stop playing hard to get and surrender yourself to him.

“Go then,” Eren says with a faint smirk, faster than you can make up your decision. “I’m still gonna smoke for a little bit. I’ll join you later.”

Never have you ever felt so disappointed in your life. He might as well just say that he’d been cheating on you for three years and it would probably feel the same.

“Okay,” you state out a little too coldly. You walk away from him, shucking off your dress with the biggest scowl on your face. You make your way to the bathroom, throwing your clothes without a care, and drenching yourself under a stream of hot water to calm yourself down. Eren doesn’t follow you with his eyes, but if he had noticed your expression, you know he would’ve laughed. And he is laughing, though you’re no longer in the room to witness it. You think he was trying to be romantic? No. He just wants you to beg. Which is why he isn’t going to join you, despite his promise. But it’s okay. You already know he won’t.

But damn it, you want him. You want him so bad that as soon as you've finished taking a shower, you wrap a bathrobe around your nude body and dry your hair as fast as you can. You redo your makeup, keeping it light but applying the boldest shade of red on your lips to make them look more inviting. Satisfied with your look, you march your way back to the bedroom.

Eren is still lounging on the couch, barefooted as he lights up his second spliff for the night. It’s only been around fifteen minutes since he began to smoke. The drug has entered his bloodstream but it will still take another fifteen minutes more to peak. Even so, his posture is relaxed, his eyes turning half-lidded as he stares vacantly at the city lights. Eren doesn’t get high easily, as he does this often, but you can see a hint of euphoria shimmering in his eyes.

He notices you walking toward him but he doesn’t say a word. It’s only until you’re sitting on his lap, your legs pressed together on one side, that a smile graces his lips. “Hey,” he greets, drawling out his words, “That was fast. I thought you were going to draw yourself a bath—”

“Eren,” you cut him off, turning your body to the side so you can face him properly. He watches the way your eyes fall to his lips, the tip of your nose nearly brushing against his. Kiss me, you want to say the words, but you decide to let your body speak for you instead.

You kiss him with a surprising, sudden force, your mouth opening his, not asking, demanding. You can taste the combination of burnt weed, smoke, and paper in his mouth and Eren blindly places down his cigarette on the ashtray and removes it to the side table so he can use both hands to knead on your skin. For a moment, he allows himself to be swallowed by your passion, your limbs tangled around one another with a sense of urgency. His hand finds your face, cupping your cheek as he forces you to give him your tongue. His other one roams down your body, unfastening the knot around your waist and letting your bathrobe slide off your shoulders.

Eren’s deep chuckles reverberate from his chest. “So impatient,” he mocks against your neck, tongue darting out to taste a hint of the jasmine soap you lathered on your skin ten minutes ago.

Annoyed by his attitude, you press one hand against the front of his throat, pushing him back down until he has his spine plastered against the couch. “You act like you’re not interested,” you taunt him back, one hand holding him by the neck while your other one slides down to cup him over his trousers. You can feel his tent forming underneath your palm. “But you’re honest down here, Mr. Jaeger.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” Eren tilts up his chin, smirking arrogantly. He exhales heavily with a deep mmm when he feels your fingers choking him a little harder. “You’re threatening me, Sweetheart?”

“No, of course not,” you croon in return, your sinful grin matches his. “I’m just letting you know that we’re both too old to play this game. How about I ride you instead?”

He didn’t expect you to bluntly say the words but it comes as a nice surprise. “You want to ride me?” Without warning, Eren lifts your body with his hands holding you firmly by your waist. He settles you back down on his lap with his right thigh trapped between your legs this time. “Go on, then.”

The mischief in your eyes vanishes without a trace. “I was talking about riding your tiny dick, genius.”

“You’ll get to do it when I allow you to do it.” He pats your cheek, and you swat his hand away with a baleful glare. “I’m sure my thigh is enough for you right now. Think of it like you’re giving me a lap dance. Seduce me, baby. Turn me on. Make me beg for that tight little pussy of yours like last time.”

God, this asshole, you bite back your anger. “Fine, then.” You lean forward to kiss him, your teeth harshly nibbling on his lower lip as your fingers threaten to crush his windpipes. When you release him, his lips are bruised, red but not from your lipstick.

The material of his pants feels silky smooth against your heat, a stark contrast to how harsh his teeth are grinding against the spot that connects your neck to your shoulder. Your instinct takes over you, and you abandon all control. Desperate for friction, you start to roll your hips forward, feeling the graze of his fabric against your bare cunt.

Still keeping your hand on his throat, you grind yourself on his thigh again, reminding him just how good you’re going to ride his cock later on. You use your free hand to reach over to the side, snatching his neglected joint from the ashtray. Bringing the roll up to your lips, you take a long huff before you draw it away. You remove your hand from his neck, trap his chin between your fingers and drag it down, blowing the remaining smoke into his mouth. Eren loves how audacious you’re being, your wetness leaving stains on his fabric, your bathrobe sliding down your body low enough to have your breasts exposed but your stomach concealed.

“Like what you’re seeing?” You ask with a thick layer of seduction misting your enchanting eyes.

“Of course.” He reciprocates with a smirk. “My baby girl is a fucking goddess. Can’t wait to ruin that pretty face later.”

“If you can.” You take another drag before you place the joint back on the ashtray. You face the ceiling, releasing smoke in the air while giving him the sight of your exposed neck. It takes him everything not to latch his mouth against the column of your throat and sketch bruises on your skin.

He tries to distract himself by hooking his fingers around your necklace and tugging you down to slant your lips together. The kiss quickly turns deep, with him sucking on your tongue and you taking a fistful of his hair. You unfasten his hair tie, carding your fingers through his loose strands, wanting to make him growl in pain from how hard you’re tugging on his roots.

Your plan fails miserably, however, because Eren is laughing.

You pull away with a frown. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” His laughter is reduced to titters. “What is up with you and my hair? I thought you liked my bun.”

“I do like your bun. But now that it’s longer, I love you better with your hair down.”

“Wrong,” he scoffs. “You should love me just as hard no matter how I look.”

“I love you the most when you keep your mouth shut, how about that?”

He snorts, shaking his head in amusement. His little “Rude,” turns quickly into a gasp when you kiss him ferociously again, successfully making him groan this time from how hard you’re yanking on his hair.

“I do love whatever hairstyle you’re sporting though,” you speak out in a sigh as Eren dives down to suck bruises on your neck. Your hips are moving on their own, riding his thigh like it’s the only thing you know how. “Except if you’re bald then maybe we need to have a long, thorough—ah, yes, right there—discussion.” You place his hand on your breast, guiding him to squeeze you tightly by keeping your palm pressed against his knuckles.

“You know when I love you the most?” He murmurs against your skin, a moment before he clamps his mouth around your hardening nipple. “When you walk into your class with your panties drenched and my cum buried inside you.”

“You and your breeding kink—ah—” You moan at the sensation of him sucking hard on your bud. You tighten your hold around his strands, guiding his face closer to you. “Eren, fuck me,” you breathe out, eyes closed, body melting underneath his hands. “Fuck me before I change my mind.” He was this close to succumbing to your wish, but that last taunt causes his haughty smirk to grow back. He stops doing everything at once, leaving you mewling in protest, your nails almost sinking into his chest. “Why are you stopping? I’m telling you to fuck me.”

Eren leans in to whisper in your ear. “Well, I’m telling you that I’m not some slave you can order around,” he says, his voice sounding perilous. “Get down on your knees.”

It’s not a request, it’s an order and you find yourself yielding to his words. You can fight him back and in other circumstances, you might do it. But you’re so damn tired of playing his game. He’s been teasing you all night and if he wants to pay you back for what you did to him last time by making you his sex doll for the night, making you cum over and over again until you’re sobbing out his name—is that really so bad?

No, it isn’t. It’s not bad at all.

So there you go, on your knees, your bathrobe completely discarded on the floor with his pants and boxer briefs following not long after. You let him keep his shirt on, only unbuttoning completely so you can marvel at the ridges of his abdomens whenever you want to. You curl your fingers around his shaft, stroking him to his full length. Within seconds, he’s hard and heavy in your hand, twitching slightly whenever you run your thumb over his slit. His pre-cum stains your pad and there’s this urge within you to steal a taste, but Eren, grabbing back the spliff from the side table, says, “Don’t use your mouth.” He brings his blunt closer to his lips. “I want to fuck those tits.”

“I can’t even get a taste?” The naughty twinkle in your eyes is so obscene, he wishes he could take a picture of you right here, right now, with his cock pressed against your cheek, your hand stroking his thigh, your eyes misted with lust as you yearn to have his taste in your mouth.

“Don’t worry.” He takes a drag and exhales once before he answers. “I’ll be sure to fuck your mouth later on that by the time I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to speak.”

You hum in content as you grant a kiss on his tip, your crooked teeth showing behind an impish grin. “Promise?”

“Promise.” He leans back on the couch, smiling derisively at you. “So be a good fucking slut that you are and do what Daddy says.”

He’s called you names before in bed, sure, but never with that word. Eren is always more fond of praising instead of degrading you in bed, which is why when it happens, it lights your skin on fire. His submissive side is adorable, but when he’s dominating you and looking at you like you’re a low-life who’s not worth a sliver of his attention?

Fuck, I’m so turned on.

Tucking your damp hair behind your ear, you lean forward and catch his cock between the valley of your breasts. You squeeze your mounds together, moving your body up and down. “Spit on it,” he says, and you let your saliva pool in your mouth before you let it dribble onto his cock. Eren watches the way his throbbing member slides easily against your chest, still with his blunt resting between his fingers, occasionally taking a puff every now and then. His expression doesn’t say much, to the point that you start to worry whether you’re doing this wrong. Desperate to get a reaction out of him, you tuck your chin and wrap your lips around his tip.

“Getting desperate now, aren’t you, baby?” Eren starts to chuckle lightly between his words as the effect of his cannabis begins to kick in. “I thought I told you not to use your mouth.”

You taste the saltiness of his pre-cum, gliding your tongue across your bottom lip. “I just want to see how long you can keep your face like that before I make you cum.”

He snorts but you can see the muscles in his stomach tightening at the stimulation you’re giving him. His hips start to move on their own, rubbing himself against your chest, loving the way you moan around his mushroom head. “Dart out your tongue,” he states and you do as he says. He bucks his hips harder, making sure that his tip rubs against your tongue whenever he thrusts upward.

You giggle. “Getting desperate now, aren’t you, Daddy?” Without his permission, you’re climbing back onto his lap. You stand on your knees, trapping his thighs between your legs before you grab a hold of his cock and rub his tips against your pussy lips. “Why don’t we just cut to the chase and get this pretty dick inside me?”

He smacks his palm against your ass, morphing your giggle into a surprised squeal. “Let me taste that fucking cunt first.”

As he slouches down on his seat, you rise until you have your knees pressed against the backrest, your heat hovering right before his face. Eren grabs both of your ass cheeks, grasping them tight and spreading them wide apart as he guides you closer to him. A satisfied sigh departs from your lips when you feel his mouth clamping hotly against your wetness, tongue circling your clit before it slides up and down your folds. You want more, want to have his slick muscle probing against your entrance so you widen your legs, your fingers moving to his head, pulling him away by his hair. He groans, looking up at you with a scowl.

“Lean your head back, Daddy,” you tell him with lust residing heavily in your eyes. “Want to ride your face this time.”

Eren snorts. “Needy little slut,” he comments, but he angles his face upward, permitting you. He relaxes his jaw, tongue darting out so you can make use of it as you please. You rub yourself harder against his face, body shivering a little when you feel the tip of his nose grazing against your clit. This position makes you feel so exposed but instead of making you feel flustered, you just feel more aroused.

“Do you like it, Daddy?” You tease him, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from simpering. “Like the way I taste?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Eren smacks your behind again, growling against your skin as he hungrily laps up your juices. Oh, the thrills of being ravished by him like this—you will never get tired of it. He’s so good with his tongue, so talented at making your clit swell, but it’s not enough. It won’t be enough until you have his cock pulsating inside you. “Ah, Eren, I want you.”

He pulls away, spitting onto your cunt once before he runs his fingers along your folds. “Want me to fuck you?” He pushes your thigh to the side, spreading your legs as wide as he can and slipping two fingers inside at the same time.

You squirm in discomfort, the friction burns. Sometimes you wish he could be a bit gentler, but it seems like you’re both past your limit tonight. “Yes, please.”

He drives away his hand, his fingers coated with your slick all the way down to his knuckles. With a sudden pull, Eren forces you down to sit on his lap again. His hand finds your throat, holding you down like a prisoner while he pushes his fingers against your lips. You part them open, lapping on your taste and running your tongue along his pads.

Eren watches with dark eyes, his voice turns gravelly when he speaks. “Promise you’ll be good this time?”

You nod, sucking on his thumb. “I’ll be whatever you want.”

“Bad girls will get punished.”

“I promise I’ll be good, Daddy.”

“All right. Grab my belt for me.” He nudges his head toward his discarded pants on the floor. Your heart jerks violently at the anticipation. He’s going to… tie me up again?

“What, scared?” Eren sneers, reading your expression. “I won’t hurt you this time, baby. I’ll be gentle.”

You almost laugh. You both know that he’s anything but gentle when it comes to sex, even during your first time. “As if you can.” You jump down off his lap, kneeling on the floor as you snatch his belt out of the loops. “Here.”

Eren returns to his feet, towering tall above you with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He takes the belt away, staring down at you condescendingly. “Hands in the air.”

You comply without a word, raising both hands above your head. “Wish I had worn a tie tonight,” he tells you as he unclasps his belt, “Would’ve wrapped it around your neck so I can pull you around and treat you like a fucking bitch that you are.”

You swallow hard. There’s no mercy in his eyes as he means his every word. He binds your wrists together with his belt, wrapping it tightly so that you can feel its leather digging torturously into your skin. Your face contorts slightly in pain and you know he notices it because he’s smirking in satisfaction, enjoying how pathetic you look. “So much for being gentle,” you mutter.

“What’s pleasure without a little pain?” He asks back with a coquettish smile. “On your feet.”

Releasing a harsh breath, you stand up, facing him with a little glower breaking on your face. “I suppose this is your revenge for last time?”

“Maybe. Turn around.” His tone is always light, playful, and you know that he’s having fun just as much as you were back then.

Your body is now facing the rectangular coffee table that stands just as tall as your knees, its size large enough for your whole body to lie down on it. Each frame is crafted of forged wrought iron with a thick, tempered glass being used as its tabletop. It’s transparent, crystal clear to the point that you can see the fibers of the polypropylene rug that lays underneath it.

“Relax, baby.” You can feel Eren’s hot breath caressing your shoulder when he leans close to gather your strands in one hand. He has snatched back his abandoned hair tie from the couch, tying your hair up in a messy ponytail. “As much as I love seeing you with your hair down, I don’t want it to get in the way.” He throws back the words you said when you did the same thing to him during the time you restrained him in bed. “Besides,” he yanks harshly on your hair, leaving you with no choice but to face the ceiling with your face contorted in pain. His lips move against your ear. “I can hold you like this when I fuck you.”

God. It’s been a while since he goes all-out with his dominant side, and you can feel your body trembling in excitement. You love it when he’s like this. Love it so much that maybe you should stop acting so tough and just indulge him for the rest of the night, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

Yeah, I should do that.

“One foot on the table,” he says and you oblige, maintaining your balance with one foot on the carpeted floor and another one pressed flat against the tabletop. Eren stands behind you, jams two of his fingers into your mouth without warning, and chokes you with them. “Come on, make them wet.” He makes sure they’re coated with your saliva before he drags them away, moving them down to rub the aching spot between your legs.

Your breath catches in your throat. Eren doesn’t waste any time, plunging his fingers deep inside you and stretching you out without waiting for you to adjust. There’s pain at first then pleasure next, and it’s so intense, you’re beginning to worry. If you cum too fast, he’s definitely going to ridicule you about it.

You bite your lip to stifle down a moan, your legs almost closing around his hand from how fast he’s pumping his fingers inside you.

“Now, now,” he purrs right beside your ear. He has his chest pressed flat against your spine, one hand fucking you and another one taking possession of your breast. “Keep those legs open, baby. I want to see you dripping your cum all over the table.”

He sounds so sexy in your ears, sultrier, and more dangerous than ever. The little growl he lets out when you don’t obey him right away, the impatient snarl, and his overall low pitch voice that reeks masculinity—every breath he lets out sends goosebumps breaking all over your skin.

Eren crooks his fingers towards your belly button, easily finding your sweet spot that makes your body jolt in reaction. “So cute,” he laughs lightly. He adds a firm pressure, his fingers swaying in a come hither motion that makes you feel like you’re standing at the edge of the cliff, about to fall fast and hard. “Don’t hold back,” he urges you, planting a wet kiss on the sensitive skin underneath your ear. “Squirt for me, baby. Cum on my fingers and I’ll fuck you real nice with my cock. You can’t wait, can you?”

His scandalous words like honey to your ears, his sensual touches like fire to your soul. He’s applying more force, pumping his fingers faster and your entire existence is suddenly concentrated upon a blissful feeling forming at your center. “Do it,” he urges, moaning lowly with his teeth grinding against your earlobe. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” There’s a burst of pleasure erupting from the bottom of your stomach and you feel something drenching your thighs. With his fingers still thrusting in and out of you mercilessly, fat droplets of your cum stain the glass, and you watch in shame, mortified by the sight.

“Oh, shit,” he laughs mockingly, “Look at you, baby, dripping all over the table. Does it feel good? Hmm? Squirting on my fingers like that?”

He’s playing with your clit now, holding you in place and snickering when you almost lose your balance, too weak to stand from the intensity of your orgasm. “Can’t stand?” He scoffs. “Tsk. What am I going to do with you.”

Eren pushes you down to the table, telling you to lie on your back. “Spread your legs. Let me see it.” With your chest still heaving up and down violently, trying to catch some air back into your lungs, you rest your tied hands on your stomach and hoist up your legs, giving him a clear view of your cunt. He can see your entrance twitching and clenching around nothing, soaked with a little bit of creamy white cum dribbling down to the crease of your ass. “Beautiful,” Eren praises, pushing back your cum into your hole and sliding his fingers in and out of you again, overstimulating you. “The way this tight little hole is sucking on my fingers—Seems like it’s missing my dick, Sweetheart.”

“Ah, wait—” Your body convulses with the aftershocks of your ecstasy. “Eren, I’m still—”

“What, gonna cum again?”

You can’t tell—everything just feels so fucking good, it’s insane. There’s a little spurt coming out of you, barely noticeable but Eren can feel it soaking him down to his wrist. “Fuck, baby, that’s so fucking hot,” he sighs, taking out his fingers and shoving them inside his mouth. “Mmm,” he moans as he savors your taste, his cheeks hollowing around his fingers. You watch him with blood pooling on your face, leaving you dizzy. “Next time,” he pauses, his fingers finding your clit again, but he rubs his pads lazily this time, just teasing you. Even then, your body still shudders, sensitive from your release. “I want you to squirt on my face so I can taste you,” he leans forward, chest meeting chest, his lips an inch away from yours when he growls. “Every bit of you.”

There’s an emptiness in the center of you and you relish the thought of him filling you deep. “Eren,” his name is whispered like a prayer. “I want you in me.”

“Yeah?” He settles himself between your legs, pushing in just the tip to make you mewl. “Like that, baby?” He’s not even using his hands, his cock standing hard enough to slide on its own. He has both palms placed on your thighs, pushing them forward. “You’re so wet I can just easily slide in. Been thinking about this since dinner, haven’t you?” He drives his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. "You're taking my cock like it's made for you. Such a tight little cunt, I want to fucking ruin it." But despite his words, he pulls away completely, leaving you empty.

“Eren!” You throw your head back on the table, frustrated. “Stop fucking around and just—”

He grabs a hold of your jaw, stopping you mid-sentence. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to do to you,” he speaks through gritted teeth. The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “I’ll fuck you when I want to, and you can cum only when I tell you to. So keep your mouth shut and do as I say.” His striking emerald eyes are peering deep into yours, leaving you immobile. You can only feel like you can breathe again when a sweet smile breaks on his lips. “You can do that, can’t you, baby?”

He’s mirroring your actions, giving you the same experience of what you did to him last week and you realized, oh, so this is how he felt at that time. He inflicts fear and excitement at the same time, making your blood boil from a sensation that you’re not sure how to explain. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good,” he vocalizes amorously. Eren goes down to his knees, his head located right between your legs, his hand caressing your thigh. “You know I only aim to please you, right?” He calms you down with delicate strokes, before suddenly, he slaps his hand against your heat, seizing a surprise gasp out of your mouth. He soothes the pain by spitting onto your clit, lowering his head to suckle on it, his tongue drawing obscene sketches on your nub. He probes his muscle against your hole, tasting you thoroughly. “God, you taste so fucking sweet. Can’t wait to have you ride my tongue again after I fill you up with my cum.” He pulls away, going back to his feet as he lets his shirt fall off to the floor. “Fuck yourself with your fingers for me.”

You’re his marionette for the night and you don’t put up a fight. You bring your fingers to your center, massaging your folds before you slide your fingers between them. Eren circles around, standing on the opposite of the table. He bends down to reward you with his lips brushing sweetly against yours, kissing you upside down with his fingers toying lightly with your nipple.

“Daddy, please,” you plead. “Fuck me. Haven’t I been good?”

That pitiful whine of yours feeds his ego so well. “You want me to fuck you with my cock, baby?” He sweetly asks. “You better warm me up then.” He pulls your body forward until you have your head dangling over the edge of the table. “Open your mouth. Keep your fingers inside that cunt.”

You part your lips and he pushes himself inside, driving himself until your mouth covers everything up to the base. You choke on it, breathing heavily through your nose but Eren doesn’t move, not yet. He lets his cock sit heavily inside your mouth as he snatches the plastic bag and his lighter from the table. He takes another joint, places it between his lips as he lights up the other end. He inhales, taking a deep breath and proceeding to blow out a cloud of smoke. He giggles, lost in a state of euphoria. His hips begin to move, slowly but steadily.

Tucking his blunt between his teeth, he steals his phone back from the table this time. “We should commemorate this,” he says, slurring his words. “It’s my birthday after all.”

With one hand holding his joint and another one holding his phone, Eren aims the camera downward to get a clear shot of your throat constricting around his cock as he thrusts into your mouth. “Too bad I can’t get your pretty face on camera but I can literally see how far my dick goes inside you,” he snickers, pushing himself further inside until both his length and his testicles are blocking your airways. “Watch your teeth.”

“Mmph!” You’re gagging, crying with stinging tears quickly forming in your eyes.

“That’s right.” Eren chuckles again, “Take that fucking dick, baby girl. Been waiting all night for it, haven’t you?” He pulls away just to push himself in, doing it a few more times as he shifts his camera to record the rest of your body. Your bouncing breasts, your strapped up hands, your fingers playing with your clit. “Goddamn,” he murmurs to himself. “This is the sexiest you’ve ever been, baby, you should be proud.”

With the feeling of THC running through his bloodstream and the sensation of your hot mouth shrouding his length, Eren feels like he’s about to lose himself over the edge. “Your mouth feels so good. Such a good girl,” he praises breathlessly, driving his hips forward and emphasizing each word with his thrust. “Such a good. fucking. girl.”

You can’t hold it anymore, it’s too much. When he feels you gagging around him, Eren breaks away. He lets his cock slide out of your mouth with thick ropes of saliva connecting your skin to his, still recording your face as he watches you gasp frantically. You turn around to your stomach, propping yourself on your elbows, coughing with tears lining down your cheeks.

“Look at the camera, baby.” And you do, looking all fucked out with your lipstick smeared to your cheeks, your face ruined with saliva, hazy eyes trying to find his gleaming ones. “The prettiest girl in the world,” he says with a satisfied smirk, a moment before he stops recording. “Wonder what your daddy's gonna think of you if he sees you like this. Does he know his daughter calls me daddy too?”

“You’re crazy,” you tell him, coughing once.

“Only for you, baby.”

He tosses back his phone to the couch, telling you to position yourself on all fours on the table. At this point, none of you cares if it breaks underneath your weight. Eren’s head is in the clouds, and your mind is fogged by the desire of having him inside you.

He positions himself behind you, plunging his length inside you in a slow, lazy manner. He keeps you still, lips curving up in a smug smile when he sees you pushing back your hips, eager to have his cock hitting your deepest spot. “Yeah, bounce on it,” he says, smacking your ass hard enough to leave his handprint on your skin. “Fucking bounce on my cock just like that, baby.”

You keep it going, moving back and forth just to feel him rubbing against your walls. Tugging on your ponytail, Eren takes another drag, inhaling as deep as he can before he leans forward and forces you to turn your head to the side. He blows smoke into your mouth and you suck every bit of it, slightly whimpering when he meshes your lips together. His tongue massages yours, letting you taste a hint of lemongrass that resides in his mouth.

He places the spliff between your lips this time and you inhale around it, coughing lightly when it burns your throat. Eren smiles, kissing your jaw once before he crushes the blunt against the table, putting it out for good. Bringing his hand to your throat, he pulls you up until you’re standing on your knees, your forearms pressed against your chest. His other hand slithers around your waist, filling the dip of your spine with his chest. “High sex is the best sex, right, baby?”

You answer him with a content hum, your inhibition is lowered, your senses heightened. You’re drowning in rapture, dopamine coursing through your veins. At the moment, all you can feel is utter bliss and you take in the feeling of his length inside of you, the sound of his pretty little moans, and the way his fingers choke you slightly as he angles your face to the side and kisses you like he’s never kissed you before. He’s rutting his hips against yours, body moving in rhythm. You’re both taking your time, not picking up the pace just yet, just enjoying the feeling of skin rubbing against skin.

You insert two of your fingers inside your mouth, tongue swirling around them before you remove and plunge them inside his. Eren sucks on your fingers, adding more saliva onto them before you take them out and drag them to your clit. His mouth finds your neck, lazily grinding his teeth against your skin to leave his marks on you.

At this point, it doesn’t matter if he fucks you slow. You're sure you can still reach your climax because everything just feels so fucking good. But then Eren leans close to your ear. “I’m gonna show the whole world you’re mine,” he whispers, “Will you let Daddy do that to you, baby?”

Your brain is too fuzzy to understand his words but you nod. Lifting your body off the table, he forces you back to your feet and pushes you forward until you have your chest pressed against the window. Your nude body, covered only by his purplish love bites, is fully exposed. Your room is too dark for people to see your bodies moving against one another—you’re not even sure if they could even if you were under the spotlight, knowing your room is located on the top floor—but just the thought of having sex like this, with passing cars and the city lights glowing underneath you… It almost feels like a dream.

You’re woken up by a slap, however, when you feel him ramming his cock back inside you with a sudden force. “Baby,” he breathes heavily against your ear, “You better remember that I love you," you can feel his teeth grazing against your earlobe as he growls his next words, "‘cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

“Oh—God—” you sob out, your entire body being pushed forward with his merciless thrust.

Eren fucks like the devil, but he brings heaven to you.

He fucks with filthy expletives tumbling off his lips. He fucks without giving you a chance to breathe, and he fucks with his fingers digging excruciatingly into your hip, leaving angry half-moons on your supple skin. His thrust drives you forward until you’re completely pushed up against the window. Your restrained arms raised high in the air, your forehead pressed against your wrists, your breasts plastered against the glass. Eren fucks you roughly from behind, one hand on your hips, one hand tugging harshly on your ponytail. “You’re squeezing me so tight. You like being watched, baby girl?”

He snaps his hips, turning your vocabulary into a blank slate. You give a shaky nod, your teeth sinking into your lip.

“Should’ve chosen a different room,” he says, a bit breathlessly, “As much as I like the scenery, would’ve liked it better if I fuck you where people can see us. Don’t you want it, baby? Don’t you want people looking up and finding your fucking tits pressed against the glass? To see the way they bounce every time I fuck you? Don’t you want them to see that pretty face of yours when I paint it over with my cum? I bet you’d like that.”

His words have you clenching your walls around him and he groans. “Ah, fuck, you’re gonna cum?” He angles his hips upward, hitting your g-spot. “You want to fucking cum, baby?”

“Yes—” Your vocal is strained, your legs losing strength. “Fuck, fuck, Daddy, I’m about to cum—” Your sentence ends up in a shriek when he suddenly lifts you entirely off the ground. Eren, using all the strength in his legs and arms, supports your entire weight by placing his hands under your thighs, keeping your backside pressed flat against his chest, and holding you in place as he thrusts upward. “Shit—Ren—oh my God—” Never in your life had you imagined yourself being fucked in this position. The glass window acts like a mirror where you can see your reflection, your legs open wide, his cock sliding in and out of you, fast and deep. His hands are the only support that keeps your body off the ground, fighting gravity. Every bit of you, the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, your forehead glistening with sweat, your lips are swollen and bruised with saliva coating your chin—you can see it all.

And you wonder if anyone else can see you too.

Your orgasm hits you so hard, your whole body tenses and relaxes at once. You scream out his name, keening in pleasure. As you lose control, you find yourself squirting again, a little bit harder than before where a few droplets of your juices manage to stain the window glass while the rest of it drips right down to the carpeted floor. Eren laughs, both mockingly and impressed, “Goddamn, baby, you’re making such a mess.” He places you down to your feet, hooking one arm around your waist to stop you from sliding down. Knowing that you can’t stand, Eren scoops you up in his arms and moves you back to the couch.

“I haven’t cummed yet,” he reminds you, positioning you on his lap. “Ride me. I want you to make yourself squirt on my cock. Use that dick like you fucking own it.”

You’re tired. Exhausted. Just how long have you been doing this already? He may have the stamina but you can barely keep up.

Laying both hands on the backrest, you ride him as fast as you can. Eren leans his back against the couch, his hand accidentally brushes against his phone. Then he remembers something. “Hey, we haven’t taken pictures together today.” He unlocks his phone and flips the camera until you can see yourself on the screen, your chest hovering at the same height as his face. Eren smirks, taking a picture with his fingers squeezing your breast. “This is all mine.” He takes another shot with his lips clamping around your nipple, sucking it hard until you flinch.

“Eren—”

“Who told you to stop?” he growls, smacking your ass as he draws your nipple between his teeth. “You’re gonna make Daddy cum, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Gonna be my good fucking girl?” Another spank, enough to leave marks on your skin. “Answer me.”

“Ah! Yes, Daddy!”

You pick up the pace, your thighs wobbling underneath your weight but you try to roll your hips in the way that leaves him a moaning mess. Eren keeps playing with your chest. He has his eyes closed but his thumb taps consistently against the screen, taking pictures after pictures before he switches it to video.

The sight of his jaw clenching as he bites your necklace that dangles over his face, the sultry moans you both emit from the back of your throat, the way you frantically bounce up and down his cock—everything is being recorded. Eren watches your body move from the screen, satisfied with how obscene it looks. He switches to the back camera, taking a close-up shot of your face. “Tell me, baby,” Eren husks with a filthy smirk. “Who’s your daddy?”

He propels his hips upward, making you shout your answer louder than intended. “You!”

“That’s right.” Eren casts his phone away, not caring if it’s still recording. “I’m your daddy.”

You drape your arms on his shoulders for support, the belt that binds your wrist together rubs against his nape. Your fingers are buried in his hair as you feel the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach. “Daddy—Daddy, I’m—”

He kisses you hard, swallowing the rest of your words. You stay like that as you grind yourself to completion, whimpering against his mouth, your walls tightening around him. You’re soaked again, only this time, your essence trickles directly onto his cock. “Fuck, baby—” Eren finds his release with a hard final ram of his hips, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he groans loudly. Wrapping both arms around your waist, he holds you in place as he shoots his seeds deep within you. “Not yet,” he growls when he feels you breaking away. “I won’t let you move. You’re gonna take every bit of my cum inside you, baby.”

You have your fingers tangled in his long strands, cradling his head close as you slowly rock your hips, letting him ride his orgasm till the end.

When he’s satisfied, Eren lifts your body high enough to let his length slide out of you. His essence dribbles down your thighs, some falling directly to stain the couch. He runs his fingers around your folds, scooping up whatever’s left, and brings them to your face. “Open your mouth.”

You comply obediently and he smears it all over your tongue before he leans in to kiss you, sucking on your slick muscle so he can feel the flavor of your taste mixed with his cum. The zeal in his kiss doesn’t last long as you both return from your high. Your body is weak, leaning against him with your forehead pressed against one another. Eren pushes you gently just so he can drag his lips to your cheek, moving them up to your nose and ending his journey on your temple.

“You okay?” He asks, pushing a lock of stray hair out of your eyes.

You find yourself tittering, albeit feebly. “It’s so typical of you to ask that question after spending an hour treating me like your sex doll.”

His smile doesn’t seem as conceited anymore. If anything, there’s only affection that blooms on his face. He tucks your hair behind your ear, frames your cheek, and lands a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. “In my defense, you looked like you enjoyed being treated as my sex doll.”

“I did,” you giggle in return. Maybe it’s the drug talking since you’re not usually this honest. “I cummed, like… four times tonight.”

“Four?” He frowns before realization transforms his face. “Oh, so you did cum in the restaurant earlier.”

Honestly? You’re too tired to care. He can make fun of you all he wants. All you want to do right now is clean yourself up and snuggle close to him in bed. Lucky for you, Eren gets the message. He takes you in his arms, carrying you bridal style before he lays you down on the bed.

“I’m gonna draw you a bath,” he says as he kneels right beside the bed, still checking on your face, looking for signs of discomfort. He takes off the belt from your wrists, tenderly brushing his lips against the marks he left you as a form of apology. “We can cuddle together, listen to some music, maybe drink some wine before we hit the bed. What do you think?”

You smile drowsily. “Doesn’t seem so bad.”

Eren laughs at your answer, ruffling your hair before he lets you taste his blissful smile with your lips. “I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on your cheekbone. “I’m sorry for being too mean to you today. For calling you a slut and everything. I didn’t mean any of that, you know that, right?”

“It’s okay.” You reach up a hand, pushing his hair behind his ear just like he did to you earlier. “Being mean suits you better. You’re the devil after all.”

He leans into your touch, his signature smirk returns as he brushes his lips against your palm. “Will you still love me regardless?”

You twine your fingers around his key-shaped pendant, pulling him down to you. A moment before your lips meet, you answer, “As long as you can bring heaven to me, I will love you in any way you want.” Eren kisses you sweetly, fervently, devotedly, with all his heart and every fiber of his being but when he tangles his fingers around your wrist, you pull back with a frown. “What’s wrong?” You question him, eyes searching his face as he seems nervous.

“There’s… There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” The previous confidence he displayed has vanished without a trace. He takes a moment to seek bravery as the sentence he’s been itching to ask for weeks sits heavily on his tongue. When he’s ready, his gaze slowly return to yours. “After graduation, would you… move in with me?”

You blink, not expecting him to say that at all. “You mean, like, to your apartment?”

“Or we can search for a new place together, whatever you want,” he hurriedly professes, mistaking your reaction as a sign of discomfort when you’re just a bit stunned by the idea. "I don't care where we live. I just want to be with you."

It’s true that you’ve been dating for three years but Eren has been taking it slow. If it wasn’t you who spoke the sacred three words, he would’ve probably taken forever before he could say I love you as easily and as often as he does now. It’s not like he’s afraid of being committed to a relationship, and he never said he was, but his behavior around you made you think that he wanted to keep this casual as long as he could. Moving in together is a big step, isn’t it? You, yourself, had never thought about it until now.

“You…” His posture droops in sadness when you spend a few seconds longer than necessary drowning in silence. “You don’t want to?”

For a man who treated you like a common whore just twenty minutes ago, he truly knows the best way to win your heart, which is by sporting his best kicked puppy look. But there’s real fear in his expression, terrified of you saying no.

“You’re an idiot,” you reply.

“W-what?”

“I would love to move in together with you, silly.” You pinch his nose, hard enough to make him flinch. When he witnesses your smile, both playful sheepish but ultimately filled with content, he exhales in relief, rushing to kiss you again where you can feel the shape of his lips curving up in glee.

“Really?” he breathlessly asks. He wears his heart on his sleeves, buzzing with happiness.

“Really, Ren.”

“Oh, God.” He pulls you into his embrace, his hand gently cradles the back of your skull as you rest your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so happy right now, I feel like I could die.” He backs away, cupping your cheek as he peers into your eyes. “I can’t wait to wake up next to you every morning. To sleep while holding you close. I’ll take care of you, baby,” he promises, holding your hand and kissing the inner side of your wrist. “I promise I’ll take care of you forever.”

Your cheeks warm as your heart almost breaks with joy. “You sound like you’re proposing to me.”

He goes still, eyes largening in surprise before he turns crimson. “I… Well…” He looks down, his voice quavering when he says. “I’ve also been thinking–”

You quickly slap a hand over his mouth, face aflame as he freezes in surprise. “Let’s take a shower,” you say. “We can talk about this later.”

Eren takes your hand away, revealing a grin once he understands your expression. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t stop thinking about it now, can you? Me marrying you?”

“Oh my God, shut up.” You jump down the bed, hastily making your way to the bathroom.

Chuckling, he follows after your steps. “Hey babe, what if I use one of your blank coupons and ask you to marry me?”

You’re going to die. You’re definitely going to die.

***

Anyone up for part 3 where Eren gets to use his "special coupons" on reader? KIDDING LMAO (or... am I? 😏😏😏)

Also, College Eren be like:

Thank you so much for reading, baby! Huge thanks to sandra for beta-ing for me. I love you, baby ❤️❤️❤️

Tagging:

"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.

another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.

"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."

the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."

so…spoiled.

he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.

nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.

he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.

it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.

your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.

"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.

"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"

"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.

"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."

grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."

for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.

you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."

ah…

eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.

"hm? nope, nothing important enough."

"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”

“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.

perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.

“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.

“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”

“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh. 

you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had. 

“any of ‘em stare?” 

“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”

“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”

you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”

“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”

oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.

“h-hold on.”

“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”

“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”

why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either. 

“let me make it up to you.” 

you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.

but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue. 

he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.

“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.

your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere. 

“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”

despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away. 

eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”

“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.

“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”

my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.

eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before. 

the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.

upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm. 

there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”

“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”

symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s  practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance. 

“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt. 

you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”

it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.

he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.

“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two. 

“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”

“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”

“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop. 

your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same. 

eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.

“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!” 

oh, shit. 

your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.

“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.

“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds. 

you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.

“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso. 

and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder. 

“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for. 

eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.” 

“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body. 

your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.” 

his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest. 

“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self. 

truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work. 

“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.” 

and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting. 

“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?

your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.

“feel full?”

you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.

Strobe lights flashed through the cramped, crowded dance floor as music blared through the cheap speakers sitting on a makeshift DJ booth. Everything you saw was washed in a mixture of blue, purple and white flashing lights. You felt good- really good. A light buzz coursing through your veins with the beat of the music, you couldn’t help yourself from swaying and smiling along with your friends.

It had taken a little convincing, but as a reward for acing your finals for the semester you and your friends had decided to go to one of the more underground rave clubs near your university. You slipped on your skimpiest dress and heels, styled your hair and makeup to perfection, and confidently arrived at the club ready to dance away the stress of the last semester. You wouldn’t have made it through that anatomy lab without your lab partner, Armin, giving you those private tutoring sessions. You’d have to remember to thank him later.

As the music dipped and swelled, the beat carried your body, making you feel as if you were floating. The alcohol might have had something to do with it, but damn did it feel nice to truly let go for a night. As you gazed across the dim, crowded room, you thought you spotted a flash of familiar blonde hair. However, by the time you glanced over again, it was gone. You hummed to yourself for a moment before shrugging and going back to the music.

Suddenly you felt a pair of hands ghost over your waist, gently guiding your movements. You turned around with an exasperated expression, expecting to see one of your friends. Your eyes widened as you realized it was not in fact one of them.

“Hey there, pretty girl.” The man smirked, raising his eyebrow slightly. He seemed familiar, but definitely not someone you’d fraternized with much.

You gave him a mildly disgusted look, hoping to deter him from continuing his pursuit. To your dismay, he continued anyway.

“Name’s Eren. I feel like I’ve seen you around before, do you go to school here?” He fixed his thick, dark hair under his frat baseball cap, clearly trying to show off his arms in the dim light.

Eren… Eren, Armin’s friend? You stood there puzzled for a moment trying to figure out how these two could possibly get along before realizing that he was still waiting for an answer. Sighing, you decided to oblige.

“Yeah, I do.” You replied curtly, turning back to your friends and the music.

You heard him chuckle behind you, and after a moment a gentle tug on your shoulder.

“Hey, come on now, let me at least buy you a drink.” He smiled again, pulling at the collar of his already-torn t-shirt. You sighed and considered for a moment.

“Alright.” You had to admit he was attractive, even if he was a frat boy. Maybe a little fun wouldn’t be so bad, as a treat.

You follow him through the thick crowd of people, his hand on your waist guiding you through. You smirk to yourself a little at the confident gesture, but decide not to mention it. When you make it to the bar, he glances over at you expectantly.

“Gin and tonic.” You said, flashing a small, sweet smile. He nodded and waved over the bartender as you looked around at the dancing crowd. For a moment you think you see a blonde out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked again, it had disappeared. You shook your head slightly before turning back to face the bar, Eren’s hand outstretched with your drink.

You took it gratefully and began sipping as you made small talk with Eren. To your surprise, he actually seemed quite passionate about politics. You talked with him for a while, or rather, listened to his strong opinions for a while before his phone started buzzing in his pocket.

He glanced down and sighed, offering an apologetic look.

“Sorry, it’s my buddy. He might be looking for me.” He put the phone up to his ear and turned away, and you thought you saw a familiar name on the screen for a moment. You shrugged to yourself, going back to people watching.

Suddenly there was a hard tug on the side of your dress, and before you knew what was happening you were being whisked away from the bar.

“Wait- hey!” You exclaimed before glancing up and seeing very familiar blonde hair and glasses. “Armin?”

He glanced down at you and nodded as he continued guiding you away from the bar, his phone against his ear.

“Yeah man, I’ll keep an eye out- Yeah, yeah. Later.” He quickly ended the call as he stopped by the back corner of the club, his arm still around your waist. He looked back down at you, his expression almost… annoyed?

“Armin, what are you doing here? Why did you just-“ You started, pausing as you noticed his expression shift.

“My friends dragged me out here. I don’t mind the crowd or noise so much, though. It’s kinda fun people watching.” He raised his eyebrow slightly, glancing between you and the bar. “So, who was that?”

You shifted slightly, shrugging. You glanced back at the bar as well, spotting a confused Eren glancing around looking for you. You turned back to Armin, slightly annoyed.

“Some guy named Eren, he bought me a drink and you just swooped in and-“

That face again, why did he keep making that face? There was something in his eyes that you had never seen before.

“I needed to talk to you, I figured Eren could wait.”

You furrowed your brows, crossing your arms over your chest. You noticed his gaze drop for a moment as you did that, but you decided to let it slide for now.

“Isn’t he one of your buddies?” You pressed, and he shrugged.

“Yeah. I called him just now so he’d finally take his eyes off you for a second.”

Your eyes widened as you thought back to Armin being on the phone when he grabbed you.

“That was you?”

He seemed slightly sheepish now, his cheeks flushed from the heat (and probably a few drinks, judging by his demeanor). He nodded, his gaze dropping to your waist as he pulled you closer again.

“You don’t need guys like him swarming you, trust me.” He murmured against your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. “I’ve never seen you in this outfit before…” He trailed off, his eyes glued to your dress.

You felt your cheeks flush under his heavy gaze, the room suddenly feeling much warmer. You were acutely aware of his steady arm around your body, his chest rising and falling against your arm as he stood pressed against you.

“Why do you get to decide that?” You pressed further, looking back up to meet his gaze. Not that you particularly cared for Eren, more out of curiosity about Armin’s true motives.

He groaned and buried his face against your neck, taking you by surprise. You pushed him back slightly, just enough to look at his face again.

“Hey, are you that drunk already?” You laughed slightly, and he shook his head with a sheepish grin.

“No, you just smell really good.” He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, and you sighed. When you glanced over, you realized why he was suddenly being so clingy.

Eren had glanced over to the two of you, clearly noticing the situation and disappearing back into the crowd of people. You sighed and smiled to yourself.

“He’s gone.” You poked his side lightly. He chuckled and looked back up at you.

“About time.” He muttered, nipping gently at your ear.

Your eyes widened again as you blushed and pushed him back again.

“Armin, what’s gotten into you?” You said playfully, intrigued by his sudden change of character. While you had gotten to know him quite a bit through your private “tutoring” sessions, you had never pegged him as the jealous type.

He shrugged again, pulling slightly at your short dress.

“You’re the one who came out looking like this…” He trailed off, rubbing the fabric through his fingers.

You shivered at his touch, your pulse quickening.

“Are you saying it like it’s a good thing or a bad thing?” You questioned, smirking slightly.

He laughed and smiled, looking up at you with a hunger that left you breathless.

“A good thing, a very good thing.” He paused for a moment before adding, “For me.”

He leaned in, nipping at your ear again before trailing down to your neck. You shivered, your arms moving to rest over his shoulders.

“Hey- there are so many people around-“ You protested lightly.

“So?” He muttered against your neck, almost growling.

You sighed and pushed him back slightly again.

“I’m not a trophy to display.” You added somewhat sternly, and he quietly considered for a moment.

Suddenly you felt him pulling you away again, towards the dark hallway lined with bathrooms and some kind of storage closet labeled “Employees Only.” He quickly slid past the door, completely ignoring the sign as he pulled you inside.

Before you had time to process, his hands were on you, his lips glued to your neck. You let out a soft sound, only fueling his growing hunger.

“I need you, please.” He murmured between hot kisses down your neck, his hands wandering up your thighs and under your dress.

You moaned breathlessly, nodding. “Y-yeah, keep going.”

Between his sudden possessiveness, the needy touches, and probably a little alcohol, you realized that your panties had become soaked. Armin quickly realized this as well, his fingers tracing over the damp fabric. He groaned against your neck, sending shivers across your skin.

“Mmm, already wet for me? In public too… So naughty.” He breathed against your skin, causing even more heat to pool in your core.

“It’s not- mmm- my fault.” You managed to stutter as he began softly stroking over your panties, your core throbbing with need.

You felt him smile against your neck as he slipped a finger under your panties, gliding through your slick as he moaned.

“God, you’re so perfect…” He softly bit into your shoulder, causing you to gasp and moan.

“Armin-“ You shivered as his finger glided over your needy bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

He groaned, rubbing tight circles over your clit as your legs began to tremble.

“Mhmm, say my name again.” His voice was dangerously low, his other hand moving to grip your ass as he continued pleasuring you.

You gasped, your head falling back against the wall behind you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck, Armin…” You moaned, trying desperately to keep your voice down. Despite how quickly your mind was becoming foggy from pleasure, you knew you didn’t want to get caught in this closet.

“You remember the reproductive unit in our anatomy lab? How there’s more than one way to stimulate the clitoris…” He trailed off as his fingers slipped into you, curling up and applying pressure against your sweet spot.

You blinked, seeing stars as he began pumping his fingers inside you, never letting up on the steady pressure.

“Oh fuck- oh god-“ You stuttered and moaned, your legs shaking as you leaned more heavily against the wall behind you.

“Good, good, just like that.” He murmured against your neck, breathing in your scent as you trembled against him.

Tension coiled in your stomach as he rapidly pushed you closer to the edge, your mind completely consumed by the sensation of his fingers inside of you.

“P-please, please I’m so close.” You whimper, holding tightly onto him.

He chuckled softly and nipped your ear, murmuring, “Come now, come all over my fingers for me.”

You gasped, his words sending you careening over the edge into bliss. He continued pumping his fingers through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure before quickly spinning you around to face the wall.

Still in a daze from the pleasure, you brace yourself against the wall as you glance back at him.

“Armin?” You questioned softly, watching as he swiftly unbuttoned his pants and revealed his hard, aching cock.

You squeezed your thighs together at the sight, drinking in the needy expression on his face as he slowly stroked himself while looking at your disheveled state.

“You’re so fucking hot…” He muttered, barely audible against the muffled music and voices outside.

He stepped closer, his pupils blown out as he looked up at your gaze, a quiet plea in his eyes. You quickly nodded, slipping out of your panties and bending over slightly, presenting yourself to him.

He groaned and quickly closed the distance between you, his hands grabbing your ass and hips, grinding desperately against you.

“Nnngh- please, please, I need your sweet little pussy…” He whined against your ear, pulling your hips back against his body.

You quickly nodded, moaning softly. “Y-yeah, take it-“

He wasted no time, sliding the head of his dick through your folds, teasing you for a moment before pushing inside. You gasped, your breath getting caught in your throat as you felt him slowly fill you, inch by inch.

He groaned as he bottomed out inside you, giving you a moment to adjust before starting a maddeningly slow pace. You whined and squirmed against him, desperate for more.

“P-please, faster…” You stuttered, eliciting a dark laugh from him as his grip tightened on your hips.

“Nngh- be patient.” He moaned, steadily increasing his rhythm.

Suddenly you heard a phone buzzing, startling both of you. Armin paused for a moment, pulling out his phone and scowling. You managed to see the name on the screen before he declined the call and tossed his phone back in his pocket.

“Eren? Think he’s looking for you?” You said with a small grin on your face.

He narrowed his eyes at you, holding your gaze as he suddenly slammed into you.

“Fuck!” You cried out, bracing yourself against the wall.

He continued the brutal pace, pulling out and thrusting back into you with enough force to cause your thighs and ass to slap against his body. Each stroke hit your g-spot perfectly, causing your legs to tremble once again as you felt a familiar tension coiling in your stomach.

“Mmm- Armin, oh my god…” You moaned, earning a curt slap on the ass.

“Yeah? Say it again, who’s making you feel this good?” He growled into your ear as he snaked his hand around, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he pounded into you.

“Oh fuck- Armin!” You gasped, your legs barely holding you up as pleasure coursed through you, the heat and overstimulation becoming almost unbearable.

You heard the faint sound of someone calling out a name outside the door. Through your pleasure-addled brain fog, you caught what sounded like Eren’s voice calling for Armin. The sound seemed to set Armin off even more, and you felt his hand make contact on your ass again.

“Again. Louder.” He breathed against your ear, leaning in to suck and bite on your neck.

You shivered at his possessive tone, moaning as he nibbled your skin.

“Armin, please!” You cried out, your walls fluttering and clenching around him as you rapidly approached your second climax.

He groaned and smiled against your neck, never letting up on his brutal pace.

“Good girl. Go on, come for me. Let me hear you.”

You whined and gasped, moaning his name over and over as you came hard around his throbbing cock. He groaned, thrusting a few more times before his hips stuttered to a stop, spilling inside you.

You both panted heavily, leaning against the wall for support as you caught your breath. After a moment he slowly pulled out, a cocky smile plastered across his face as he fixed his pants and glanced up at you.

You blushed as he drank in the sight of you, ruined and breathless against the wall. He stepped forward again, turning you around to face him and capturing your lips in a hot, passionate kiss. You felt his tongue piercing as he entered your mouth, sending a shiver through your body.

The sound of Armin’s phone buzzing cut through the heat of the moment, and he groaned into the kiss. He finally pulled back, pulling his phone out and answering the call with an exasperated tone.

“What? Yeah, I’ll come find you. Okay, yeah, by the bar. Heading over.” He ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket before turning his attention back to you.

“Eren. Apparently he thought I disappeared.” He said as he started fixing your dress and hair, helping you slip back into your panties.

You laughed and smiled up at him. “Well, you kinda did.”

He shrugged and smiled back. “Yeah. Hey… Come by my place tonight. Once your friends go home.”

He looked up at you sincerely, his ocean eyes searching yours.

“Thinking about round two already?” You grinned, poking his shoulder.

He laughed and shrugged as he reached up to fix his hair. “Maybe. That, and treating you to a nice breakfast.”

You smiled and nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll text you.”

He kissed you again, holding you for a moment before sighing and opening the door.

“Don’t be too long.” He flashed a quick smile as he turned to head out of the closet.

“Ah… I’m not sure if we should be— mmph!”

Armin downright whimpers when you silence his protest with a soft giggle and press your lips to his again, cupping his cheek like you’re trying to ease him into it. He kisses back, but it’s clumsy—his lips too hesitant, his breath shaky. The way his slightly clammy hands tremble as they slide awkwardly onto your waist gives him away completely. His fingers twitch like he’s unsure if he’s even allowed to touch you, like he’s expecting to be jolted awake from some perverse fever dream at any second.

You smile into it. He tastes a little like fruit punch and nerves.

How’d he even end up like this?

Honestly? He’s not entirely sure himself.

All he knows is that about an hour ago, he’d been forcibly dragged out of his safe, sacred little sanctuary—his room—by none other than Eren Jaeger, who’d called him a “shut-in loser” with all the affection of a lifelong best friend trying to get his social recluse ass to touch grass for once. “Just come out for one night,” Eren had said. “You never hang out anymore. You just rot in front of that stupid computer!”

That “stupid computer,” by the way, is the love of Armin’s life. A lovingly hand-built, high-performance rig that he’d spent months putting together with trembling excitement and a YouTube tab permanently open. The tower is pure art—transparent case with perfectly routed cable management, cool-toned RGB fans that change hues with each temperature spike, and a custom water-cooling loop that keeps everything running quieter than a whisper. The inside glows in a soft gradient from blue to violet, illuminating every pristine component like a spaceship console. His mechanical keyboard clicks satisfyingly under his fingers, each custom PBT keycap matte and worn in just enough. The desk is outfitted with dual curved monitors, a steelseries headset perched on a 3D-printed stand, and a carefully arranged line of anime figurines—each one dusted weekly.

He lives there. He thrives there. Not out here.

So when he’d first stepped foot into the frat house—blinking under dim purple lights, instantly accosted by the stench of sweat, alcohol, Axe body spray, and weed—he’d wanted to turn and run. Connie had looped an arm around his neck before he could so much as take a step back, dragging him further inside like a lamb to slaughter.

He would’ve given anything to be home. Back at his setup. Back where he could peacefully queue up for League of Legends or post a hot take on a message board about dungeon tier lists. His teammates were probably on Discord right now, wondering why his little green light hadn’t turned on tonight.

That was then.

Somehow– Somehow, in the haze of being drunk or high out of their minds— Eren was out of it, Connie was asleep on Sasha’s lap, whose head was on a knocked out Jean’s shoulder. Mikasa, for how composed she usually was, was slumped next to Eren, his hand wrapped around hers— you had managed to finally snag the shy boy to yourself.

You’d only recently started hanging out with the gang, weaving your way into their circle with a kind of natural confidence Armin found both mesmerizing and terrifying. You’re funny. Loud in a charming way. You speak your mind, talk to Eren and Mikasa like you’ve known them for years, and make sly little jokes that leave Connie wheezing. Even Sasha likes you—and she doesn’t like anyone new.

But around you, Armin turns into scrambled code. He avoids eye contact. Stumbles over his words. Does that thing where he pushes up his glasses like a reflex even when they’re already in place.

And it wasn’t hard to realize that Armin liked you.

He wasn’t subtle—not in the way he’d glance up from his phone screen when you laughed a little too loudly, or the way his ears would burn pink every time you plopped down next to him during hangouts, hips brushing, thighs touching just barely. He'd sit there stiffly, eyes wide behind his glasses, thumbs still tapping away at whatever gacha game or tactics RPG he was grinding, pretending not to notice how your perfume clung to the air between you like static.

You’d catch him staring sometimes—well, more than sometimes. Once when you bent over to grab a charger, and again when you wore that cropped shirt with the worn-out neckline, his gaze getting stuck right where your collarbone dipped into something just a bit more scandalous. But he’d always look away just in time, pretending to clean his glasses or scroll deeper into Reddit threads.

The boy was practically a walking Tumblr post from 2013. Always in those oversized hoodies with the sleeves too long, fingers tucked halfway into the cuffs, his laptop stickers flaking off from years of aggressive clicking. His room, as you’d come to discover later, was nothing short of a digital command center. Dual monitors—one vertical, one horizontal—cast a cold RGB glow over his unmade bed and tangle of charging cables. His mechanical keyboard clicked loud enough to echo through the dorm floor, each keystroke deliberate. Rows of Funko Pops lined the top of his bookshelf, mostly anime characters and one out-of-place Miku figurine he shyly claimed was "cute."

And that chair—God, that chair. It was one of those ridiculous ergonomic gaming thrones with a headrest, a lumbar support pillow, and armrests that he always adjusted like he was gearing up for war. You could tell it was his pride and joy, considering how he refused to let anyone else sit in it. Except, of course, for that one time you snuck in during a group hangout and plopped down in it just to see how far he’d go before breaking—he just stood there, mouth open, shifting awkwardly until he gave up and sat on the floor beside you. Pathetic. Adorable.

So yeah, it wasn’t hard to realize Armin liked you. He was just painfully obvious about it in a way that made you all the more obsessed.

Especially after that day Eren—loud-mouthed, smug Eren—dropped the most shocking bit of information mid-conversation over nachos and beer.

“Guess who finally let me bully him into getting a tongue piercing?”

Your head had snapped around so fast it almost gave you whiplash. "You're kidding."

Eren had just grinned like the devil himself. “Nope. Took him to the place on 8th. Cried like a bitch but hey, he’s got it now.”

You’d turned to look at Armin, who was red as a tomato, sipping his Sprite like he wished he could disappear behind the carbonation. He didn’t even deny it.

You haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

Which brings you to now.

So when all of a sudden, you're sitting next to him on the too-small couch, murmuring something about there being something wrong with your phone, and desperately needing someone to fix it for you, and no, the dim lighting of the living room simply isn’t enough to inspect it properly—you somehow manage to drag him upstairs to one of the empty rooms, thigh pressed a little too close to his as you explain how glitchy your phone is, how you're so sure it must be some kind of weird virus, and wow, isn't that so crazy?

But cut the bullshit. Even Armin knew you were lying.

Phone glitching? Yeah, right. He’d seen your screen time stats by accident once—your camera roll was 95% front-facing selfies, memes, and blurry videos from nights out. He wasn’t stupid. But he was clueless—at least about your intentions.

You’d had a thing for him since day one, not that he knew, obviously. The first time Eren had pulled you into the fold, dragging you into their little friend group like some shiny new accessory, Armin had looked at you like you’d be gone by next week. He wasn’t good with new people—too shy, too stiff, too used to lurking in the background with his legs folded crisscross on the floor and his thumbs tapping away at his phone while everyone else drank and talked over each other.

Even now, when everyone hung out, Armin would be half-present—physically there, tucked into the corner of the room with his hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, but mentally god knows where. Probably grinding a mobile RPG or replying to a fan theory thread. He liked games where he could build things, micromanage every stat. His phone battery was always draining because he never stopped playing. Long, elegant fingers constantly moving, tapping, swiping. Even when you sat next to him, he couldn’t seem to stop. You once made a joke about how he probably tapped faster during battles than he would during sex.

You remember the way he’d choked on his Redbull.

But now—now he’s stuck. Sitting next to you in a quiet upstairs room, your perfume in his lungs, your thigh pressed right up against his, and your phone held limply between you both like some half-hearted prop.

He keeps glancing at you, lips parted like he wants to say something—anything—but nothing comes out.

“You gonna fix it or just keep staring at my lockscreen?” you tease, your voice low, syrupy sweet.

He blinks, startled, fumbling to grab the phone from your hands with a stuttered apology. “S-Sorry, I—um—yeah, let me just… check the settings, I guess.”

His hands shake slightly as he scrolls, and you bite your lip watching him. The way his jaw tenses, his brows furrow in concentration—it’s endearing. You wonder if he knows how flushed his ears are. You wonder if he knows how loud his breathing is.

You lean in just slightly, enough that your breath brushes the shell of his ear.

“You know,” you murmur, “I still haven’t seen that piercing.”

His entire body jolts. His fingers fumble the phone, almost dropping it in his lap. “W-What?”

You smile innocently, like you don’t already know exactly what you’re doing. “Your tongue. Eren told me. Kinda wanna see it for myself.”

Armin swallows hard, eyes wide as he looks at you like you just asked him to strip naked. “I-I mean, it’s not—It’s nothing, really. I-it’s just… uh…”

“C’mon,” you coax, fingers brushing the side of his knee. “I’m curious.”

He hesitates. Then, shakily, he sticks his tongue out just a little—just enough for the cool glint of metal to catch the light. Your stomach flips.

God, you didn’t expect that to be so hot. On him, of all people.

“You’re full of surprises, Armin Arlert,” you whisper, eyes meeting his.

And you swear to god, if you didn’t know better, you’d say the look in his eyes shifts. Just a little. Like something in him snaps or gives in. Like he’s done pretending he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“…Is your phone actually broken?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

You grin. “Not even a little.”

And for once—for once—Armin smirks.

It's crooked. Barely there. But it's smug in the quietest, most devastating way, because he knows now. You're not here because of some bullshit glitch or broken screen. You're here for him.

The second you lean in, brushing a strand of his blond hair out of his face, he freezes—like a deer caught in headlights. His breath hitches, lips parting just slightly, and his fingers tense where they’re still holding your phone like it’s a lifeline.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say softly, not a question. Just an observation.

His cheeks flush bright red. He doesn’t answer.

You cock your head, smiling. “That’s okay. I’ll teach you.”

His breath catches again, sharp and audible this time, and he shifts a little like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands—does he drop your phone? Hold it? Hold you?

You take the decision away for him, gently slipping it from his fingers and setting it down on the nightstand. Then, without breaking eye contact, you slowly slide onto his lap, one knee at a time, until you’re straddling his narrow hips, hands settling on his shoulders.

His whole body goes stiff. “Ah… I’m not sure if we should be— mmph!”

You kiss his lips again, silencing him effectively.

“Armin,” you say as you pull back, voice low and amused. “Relax.”

He doesn’t. Not entirely. But his hands hover awkwardly near your waist now, like he’s trying to be respectful, like he’s afraid if he touches you wrong, the moment will combust.

You lean forward, just enough that your noses nearly brush.

“Close your eyes,” you whisper. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

He obeys, lashes fluttering shut. You let your lips graze his, soft and tentative, barely a kiss at all—just enough for him to taste your breath, to feel the warmth of you against his mouth.

He shivers.

You pull back slightly, your voice like silk against his ear. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

He exhales shakily. “It’s… it’s good. You’re… good.”

You smile. “You haven’t even gotten the full lesson yet.”

And then you kiss him.

Really kiss him.

You press your mouth against his fully this time, slow and confident, your lips moving gently over his like you’ve got all the time in the world. He kisses back clumsily at first, a little too much pressure, a little off with the rhythm, but it’s adorable, and you can feel the way his whole body trembles under you.

You guide him with quiet murmurs between kisses. “Slower… softer, yeah… there. Just like that.”

His hands finally land on your waist, unsure at first, then a little firmer when you deepen the kiss, your fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. You part your lips slowly, and when he instinctively mimics you—nervous, but curious—you feel it.

The smooth, cool ball of metal.

You pause just barely, lips still brushing his, a grin curling at the corners of your mouth. “There it is.”

“Huh?” he whispers, dazed.

“That piercing,” you murmur, voice thick with heat. “Feels so fucking good.”

You kiss him again, and this time your tongue finds his. The sensation of the cold stud sliding against yours sends a sharp little jolt straight through your spine. It’s addictive. You roll your hips slightly against his, and he gasps into your mouth, fingers tightening on your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to pull you closer or push you away.

He tastes like mint and nervous energy, and the little helpless noises he lets out when you suck on his bottom lip are enough to make your thighs clench around his lap.

You pull back for a second, just to look at him. His lips are flushed, slightly swollen, eyes glazed with something between awe and pure panic.

“You okay?” you whisper, thumb brushing across his cheek.

He nods, almost too fast. “Y-Yeah. I just—I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You lean in again, lips ghosting over his jaw. “That’s just the beginning.”

He groans—actually groans—and it’s the hottest fucking sound you’ve ever heard from him. You swear you feel him twitch beneath you. His hips shift slightly, involuntarily, and the friction makes both of you gasp.

You grab a fistful of his hoodie, tugging him back into another kiss, messier this time. Less structured. All tongue and heat and shallow breaths. That piercing catches on your lip as you suck on his tongue, and you moan softly against his mouth.

He's kissing you like he wants to prove something now. Still hesitant, still learning, but eager. Hungry. His hands slide up under your shirt, still shy but bolder than before, fingertips ghosting over the bare skin of your waist.

You roll your hips against him again, deliberately this time, and the noise he makes—somewhere between a whimper and a curse—goes straight to your core.

You smile into the kiss, breathless. “You’re such a quick learner.”

He swallows thickly. “I—I wanna keep learning.”

“Yeah?” You rock against him again, and his eyes flutter shut. “You will.”

You dip your head to press a kiss to his neck, right below his jaw. He gasps, tilting his head back like it’s instinct, and you suck a slow, wet mark into the pale skin, making him jolt beneath you.

“You’re so sensitive,” you whisper. “Bet I could make you fall apart with just my mouth.”

He whimpers.

And fuck, that sound does something to you.

You're grinding against him now, fully, the heat between your legs pressing right against the growing bulge in his pants. The way his hips buck up helplessly, like he can’t stop himself, is intoxicating.

You mouth at his jaw, then his ear, letting your breath tickle the shell of it.

“Armin,” you purr, “do you want me to show you more?”

He looks up at you like he’s ready to beg.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Please. Show me everything.”

You don’t make him ask twice.

You kiss him again, deep and slow, feeling the way he melts into it now. No hesitation—just heat, want, and the softest desperation in how his mouth opens for you like he’s starving. You taste that metal ball again, glide your tongue along it, and the sound he makes—fuck, you’re obsessed.

Your hips move instinctively, grinding down on his lap, and you can feel him. Hard. Pressed right up against your core through his worn out jeans and your shorts. The friction draws a moan from your throat that has his eyes fluttering open, pupils blown wide.

“Fuck,” you whisper, forehead pressed to his. “You’re so hard already.”

He nods, frantic, breath stuttering. “I—yeah, I can’t—I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh.” You cup his jaw, tilt his face up. “Don’t be embarrassed. You think I didn’t want that?”

You shift just a little, rolling your hips down with purpose, dragging your clothed pussy against his cock. He chokes on a gasp, his fingers digging into your waist like he’s trying to stop himself from bucking up into you again. You grab his hand, beckoning him to slip his fingers under your shorts, under the waistband of your panties.

“Feel how wet I am for you?” you murmur, lips brushing his ear.

He nods again, helpless. “Yeah—yeah, I feel it—fuck—”

You smile wickedly and grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one motion. His mouth drops open.

He stares.

Hard.

Like he’s short-circuiting. Like he’s never seen anyone naked before and can’t figure out where to look. His hands twitch like he wants to touch you but doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

You guide them to your tits.

“Touch me, baby,” you say softly. “It’s okay. You can.”

He swallows hard and palms your breasts gently, reverently, like he’s afraid to squeeze too hard. His thumbs ghost over your nipples and you sigh, arching your back into his touch, giving him a show.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathes.

“You’re cute,” you reply, pushing your hips down again. “And obedient.”

He whimpers at that.

You roll your hips slow and steady, grinding on him until you feel his thighs start to tremble beneath you.

Then you lean down, lips brushing his. “I want you to eat me out.”

His eyes widen. “I—what? I’ve never—”

“I’ll guide you. Just do what I say.”

You’re already sliding off his lap, standing between his legs and shimmying your shorts and underwear down in one motion. His breath stutters when he sees you like that, bare and dripping, your thighs glistening in the low light.

You make a move to lie back on the bed, but he stops you, pink in the face.

“S–Sorry, I– ah– Can you ride my face? Please?”

He looks like he wants to wipe his existence off the planet because why’d he say that in such a high pitched tone, why’d he stutter like that, why’d his voice crack when he said please, why'd he—

But you just giggle amusedly, pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his face.

His whole body tenses like he’s trying not to combust. “Are you sure you’re okay with thi—?”

You don’t answer. Just lower your hips slowly until you’re hovering just above his mouth.

“Open up.”

He does, and when your pussy presses against his lips, you sigh like it’s relief. He’s clumsy at first—licking too shallow, too soft—but you guide him. “Use your tongue. Flatten it—yeah, just like that. A little harder. Good. Fuck, Armin.”

The moment his tongue finds your clit, you moan, your hips jolting forward. And the pressure of that cold little ball dragging against your most sensitive spot?

It’s over.

You’re grinding on his face now, fingers buried in his soft blond hair, riding him through sloppy, wet licks and messy kisses that leave your thighs shaking. He moans beneath you, hands gripping your hips like he’s into it, like the taste of you is something he wants to memorize. His piercing continuously flicks against your clit, making you whine and shudder, thighs clamping around his head. And soon enough, you’re coming all over his tongue, his name leaving your mouth prettily.

He’s hard again—probably never stopped being hard—and when you finally can’t take it anymore, you slide down his body and palm him through his jeans.

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes wide as you feel the outline of him. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

He covers his face with one arm, flushed and overwhelmed. “I didn’t know I’d get like that so fast.”

“You’re adorable.” You lean down and press a kiss just above his waistband. “Let me take care of you.”

He whimpers again.

And when you tug his jeans down, his cock bounces free—hard, flushed, leaking at the tip. You stroke him once, slow and firm, and his whole body jolts.

“Oh my god,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “I—I don’t think I can—”

“You can.” You kiss the head of his cock, swirl your tongue around it just once, and watch him squirm.

Then you straddle him again.

“Wait—” he gasps. “Are you—are we really—”

You line him up with your entrance, slow and steady, and you moan when the tip slips in.

“Fuck yes, baby,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as you sink down inch by inch. “You’re inside me.”

He’s panting, chest rising and falling like he’s about to pass out. “You feel… holy shit…”

“Tight?” you tease, grinding down once you’re seated fully.

He nods, eyes wide, mouth open. “I’m not gonna last—”

“You’ll learn,” you murmur, starting to move. “I’m gonna teach you everything.”

And as you ride him—slow, deliberate, dragging every sweet sound out of him—you know for a fact that this won’t be the last lesson. You bounce up and down on him, watching with a gaze full of lust and amusement as he croons your name, head thrown back, drool escaping the side of his lip, thick glasses askew.

He looks like he’s unraveling. Like his brain stopped functioning five minutes ago. Like all he can focus on is the way your cunt squeezes him every time you drop down.

“F-Fuck, you feel so good,” he whimpers, voice cracking with raw need. “I c-can’t… I’m not gonna last…”

You lean forward, letting your chest brush against his, your lips brushing his mouth as you whisper, “That’s okay. Just give it to me.”

His hands are shaking where they grip your hips, but he tries to match your rhythm anyway, pulling you down harder every time your ass slaps against his thighs. He’s trying so hard to keep it together for you—sweet, trembling thing, so eager to please despite how close he is.

“I–I’m gonna– I’m gonna– I don’t have a condom on, I—”

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, kissing the edge of his jaw, tongue flicking over his pulse point. “Just pull out, baby. I’ve got you.”

And it’s like your voice alone is enough to break him.

His grip tightens—frantic, bruising—and you barely have time to lift off before he comes, gasping your name like a prayer. Thick ropes spill over his stomach, twitching cock pulsing as he groans and writhes beneath you, flushed and utterly wrecked. His glasses have slid halfway down his nose, and he’s too dazed to fix them.

You exhale through a low laugh, trailing your fingers through his release before bringing them to your mouth and sucking them clean, just to tease him. His breath stutters at the sight, and his eyes roll slightly as he pants beneath you.

You collapse next to him, both of you catching your breath in the quiet, sticky air. The room smells like sweat and sex and faint body spray, and outside the door you can still hear the low thrum of party music, muffled now like the two of you are in a different world entirely.

He’s quiet. Still. Hands awkwardly covering himself, glasses pushed to the side. You catch the way his lashes flutter, how red his cheeks are, how he refuses to meet your eyes.

You turn on your side, resting your head on one hand. “What’s wrong?”

He swallows hard. “That was my first time,” he says softly. “Like… all of it. Kissing, sex, everything.”

You pause, the weight of his admission settling into the space between you. He glances up at you finally, face filled with anxiety.

“I… I hope I didn’t disappoint you.”

Your heart aches a little.

You reach out and gently remove his glasses, setting them on the nightstand, then cradle his face in your hand.

“Armin,” you say, voice low and sincere, “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. You have no idea.”

He blinks, surprised.

“You were perfect,” you say, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “And I like that it was me. I like being the first.”

His face turns even redder, if that’s possible. “I–I didn’t even know what I was doing.”

“That’s the fun part.” You smile, brushing a strand of his hair off his forehead. “Means I get to teach you everything.”

He hides his face against your shoulder, groaning. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You laugh softly, wrapping your arm around his waist. “You’re such a cutie.”

You lay there together in the silence for a while, his head nestled against your chest, his arms tentatively curling around you like he’s not sure he’s allowed to hold you yet. You run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging here and there, and you feel him relax more and more under your touch.

“You still nervous?” you murmur after a while.

“A little,” he admits, voice muffled. “I just… I’ve never done this. Any of it. I don’t want to mess things up with you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “You’re not. I like you.”

He lifts his head to look at you, shy but hopeful. “Really?”

“Mhm.” You brush your lips against his again. “I’ve liked you since I saw you trailing behind Eren with your stupid oversized hoodie and your Switch in your hands like you were allergic to human interaction.”

He laughs, sheepish. “I kind of am.”

You grin. “And I kind of love that.”

He watches you for a moment, eyes soft and a little awestruck. Then he leans forward, kisses you with all the gentleness and hesitance of someone who’s just now realizing he might be falling for someone, and you smile into it, warm and full and smug.

Because you know you’ve got him.

—

It’s official now. You’re Armin’s girlfriend.

It had happened somewhere between all the blushing kisses and stolen glances and slow, breathy I like you’s whispered in the privacy of his bedroom. There was no dramatic confession, no rose petals or fireworks. Just him looking at you one afternoon with that overwhelmed, adoring gaze, thumb brushing over your knuckles while he mumbled, “Do you, um… want to be mine? Like… officially?”

And you’d kissed him stupid in response.

So now, two weeks later, you’re at his place again, perched sideways on his lap in his gaming chair, legs draped over one armrest while his are stretched beneath the desk, twitching slightly every time something exciting happens on screen.

You’re wearing one of his hoodies—big, soft, and smelling like fabric softener and his shampoo—and nothing else underneath. Which he hasn’t noticed. Yet.

His focus is laser-sharp, blue eyes narrowed behind his glasses, tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth like he’s fighting for his life on whatever boss battle he’s got going. You shift a little, trying to get comfortable in his lap, but he doesn’t even flinch—just grunts something about “just give me a second, babe, I’m in the middle of something.”

And yeah, it’s a little infuriating. But also?

Ridiculously hot.

Like, his headset is way too big on him. He keeps muttering things under his breath about cooldowns and mechanics and DPS output. His fingers are flying across the keys, long and elegant and twitchy, like they were built to type essays at the speed of sound or code random passion projects no one ever asked for.

At one point, he actually shushes you. A little breathy “waitwaitwait– babe, hold on, this guy’s cheesing—oh my god I swear to god if this fucking healer dies I’m gonna—”

You blink. Then snort.

“You’re so nerdy,” you murmur, voice laced with amusement, “I can’t believe this is my boyfriend.”

He doesn’t look up. “You knew what I was when you signed up.”

“Oh, I did.” You lean in, dragging your fingers up the nape of his neck, just under the headset. “And I like it.”

He shudders a little. “You’re distracting me.”

“I know.”

Still, he plays. Fidgety, intense, mouthing instructions to himself like some kind of adorable, socially anxious commander. You watch the screen for a bit, half-understanding what’s happening—some massive raid, particles flying everywhere, his team yelling in the Discord chat you can hear leaking through his headphones. Armin doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s surprisingly confident. Precise.

“No, back left! You kite, I’ll stun—good—shit, I got hit, that’s fine, I’ve got mana—”

You shift again. This time a little more deliberately.

His hands pause on the keyboard. “...Are you doing that on purpose?”

You blink at him innocently. “Doing what?”

“You’re… squirming.”

You tilt your head, smiling. “I’m just trying to sit comfortably, Armin. Your thighs are kinda bony.”

“I—what? I—”

He falters. And you know he’s starting to get flustered. Because his hand slips on his mouse, and he curses softly under his breath as his character takes a hit onscreen.

“Can’t believe I’m being insulted and sabotaged right now,” he mumbles.

“I’m your girlfriend,” you remind him, turning so you’re fully straddling him now, knees on either side of his hips, “it’s in the job description.”

He swallows thickly. You can feel him beneath you now—half-hard already, tension building the longer you stay in his lap.

“Please let me finish this fight,” he whispers, jaw tight.

You kiss the edge of it.

“Okay.”

So you wait. Sort of.

You shift again. Start pressing little kisses to his throat. Let your fingers toy with the edge of his shirt, lifting it just slightly. Not enough to distract him fully. Just enough to make him sweat.

By the time he finally mutters a breathless, “Got him, holy shit,” and slumps back in the chair, he’s panting and flushed—and not just from the game.

You lean in, both hands planted on his chest now, smiling sweetly.

“All done?”

He nods.

“Good.” And then you roll your hips once against his, slow and deliberate.

He makes a soft, broken sound in his throat. “Y-You’re evil.”

“Mmhm,” you hum, dipping down to kiss him again, this time deeper, tongue teasing the edge of that stupid metal piercing he still refuses to tell you the story behind.

It’s so easy to ruin him.

His hands flutter uselessly for a second before they land on your hips, gripping like he’s still not sure he’s allowed to touch you. You grind down harder, and he whines into your mouth, glasses fogging up, hips twitching like he’s not in control of his own body anymore.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice high and shaking. “I’m—I was just trying to game.”

“You’ll live,” you whisper, licking into his mouth again. “Besides… I like seeing you like this. So desperate for me.”

He groans.

And you know right then, without a doubt, this little nerd is already obsessed with you. Completely and utterly whipped.

author's note: HELL YEAH I LOVE NERDIFYING ANIME MEN!!!! fantastic give me 14 more of them bzzzzz

seriously when i saw this fanart the first thing i did was open up google docs and get my ass to WORK i feel like by now its really obvious i have a thing for nerds :3

Thunder booms all around you in the dark of the late hour and the chill in the air forces you to hug yourself tighter to keep warm. You want to check your phone for the time, to see exactly how long you’ve been standing at the bus stop (covered but no good against rain that’s falling nearly sideways) but if you pull it out of your bag, the storm might soak it. All you can really do is wait.

The fury in your father’s expression, the frustration in his words, when you’d told him that you had quit another job is seared into your memory. He’s never yelled at you like that before. Sure, you acknowledge that he had to pull strings to get you that work. You know that he has to use connections to secure any easy position for you but, really, he just doesn’t get you at all. You’re just not cut out for working.

All your life, you’ve had staff to do your work for you. You’ve had things handed to you. If anything, it’s your dad’s fault that you turned out this way. He should be the one in the cold rain feeling sorry for himself.

Soon enough you’re snapped out of any spiteful thoughts you’ve let yourself be consumed by. A set of bright headlights make an appearance and start heading in your direction, leaving you nearly blinded. The thumping music from the car serves as a direct indicator of the person driving your way. He doesn’t make a move to get out of the car, doesn’t help you put your two bags into the backseat or even open your door for you so, when you load your tired body into the passenger’s seat, you’re soaking wet and letting your clothes drip onto the vinyl of Eren’s car seats.

For a moment, you’re left alone in silence. He begins driving in the direction of his apartment, a place he’s let you stay at countless times whenever you get into a stupid little fight with your mom and dad. This time is different though. “What’d you do this time?” He clears his throat, tone annoyed - likely due to the fact that you woke him out of his rest at three a.m.

You would stomp your foot at him if you could. Instead you just cross your arms over your chest and try you hardest to not let it show that you’re freezing. “Why would you assume that I did something wrong?” It’s a ridiculous question. Of course, you would’ve had to do something wrong to get sent away from your house. The last thing you really want to do is give your ex the satisfaction of being right about you though. Eren always said that you were hard to deal with. So pretty, but so high-maintenance. It’s not as if you could help yourself though, being born a rich girl. Your snarky question to his question is met with an awkward silence.

Eren really wants to answer his own question. He wants to give you a detailed description of what exactly he thinks you’ve done wrong, wants to tell you exactly what you usually do wrong. He really wants to see you humbled by his words but he bites his tongue and drives on. “So how long are you planning on staying this time?” His words sting again but this time you answer up.

You scratch the back of your neck and adjust your seat belt nervously. “If I’m really such a nuisance. I can call someone else. I have friends. I don’t need you that badly, Ren.” Your response is honest. You can’t help but remember how Eren once called your attitude cute, called himself a professional brat-tamer, took great pleasure in taming you for the brat you are. Now Eren clenches his jaw in annoyance. His fists grip the steering wheel a little stronger, veins prominent under the tatted digits. Your name is still inked on his ring finger.

Your eyes glance towards your irate ex-boyfriend, feeling bad for calling him every time you run your mouth off to your dad. “He cut me off this time. " You admit. Eren hears the defeat in your voice as soon as you speak up once more. “So, I really don’t know.” Your ex visibly relaxes his knuckles and looks towards you, only to find small tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. He softens up a bit. Eren’s GPS states that he’s still about forty-five minutes away from his destination so he opts to finish the drive in silence, not feeling the uncomfortable banter between the two of you.

Still, a question begs him in the back of his mind. “I don’t wanna sound like an asshole but, I’m curious. What happened today that made him cut you off?” Your dad has never cut you off before so he thinks it’s a fair question to bring up.

“I just… I quit another one of my jobs.” Now, that he should’ve known. You’re a lifelong quitter. If you don’t like something, you never do it again. You never try. Eren scoffs. His expression drastically changes but you don’t even notice due to his long tawny roots. He’s not quite sure why he’s so mad at you. It’s more than you waking him up at three in the morning for the sole purpose of bailing you out of another mess you created. It’s just such an old story with you. All you do is whatever you want. Your father’s riches have you thinking that you’re a fu.cking princess or something.

Eren’s demeanor isn’t lost on you. From your spot next to him, you speak up. “Oh, so you’re mad at me too now?” It’s a little annoying that he’s so mad at you for bothering him with your problems. Was it not him that told you that you could always come to him if you needed anything - even after your relationship ended? It’s seems that every time you exercise that offer, he’s got an attitude about it. You can’t help but think that if Eren doesn’t want you bothering him anymore, then he should just grow up and say that.

He hits you with that signature scoff of his and rolls his eyes at your vanity. The GPS chimes in between your conversation once again and alerts that there’s still a half hour of distance to clear before either of you can make it back to his place and get some rest for the night. Maybe the restlessness is what’s got you two snapping at each other. Maybe the exhaustion is what got the environment so thick with tension. Or maybe, you know that you’re the one in the wrong and just looking for something else to blame besides your mildly selfish nature. “I’m just trying to figure out what your excuse is.” Still, your ex doesn’t spare you glance.

“My excuse?” How dare he imply that there must be some excuse for these positions not working out. Did Eren even consider that maybe you’re quitting these jobs because they’re beneath you. Eventually, you know that you’ll find the right position. This one just wasn’t a good fit. It happens. It happens to regular people all the time. No one is even giving you the benefit of the doubt. Everyone is so against me, you think, letting angry tears escape now.

Eren slows his driving a bit and finally does look you in the eye in earnest. He snaps, resolve crumbling like sand in the desert when it comes to you. You’re just as much of a brat as you were the day that he met you. You never learn. Never grow. “We both know how much your parents want you to be more self-sufficient and we both know what your dad does to get you these jobs that you keep quitting because ‘they aren’t good fits’ so why don’t you respect his hard work?” What Eren really wants to say is that he’s tired of being the one to bail you out. He wants to tell you that he’s done with you and your drama, but the way you cry so easily when you get around him makes you hard to refuse. Is it pity? “He trades on his good name and exercises all of his professional connections to make you a better person, Y/N and you don’t even care.” Or does he still love this ungrateful brat?

Your vision blurs as you turn away from him, knees pointing towards the door to get as far away from your ex as possible. Like you didn’t already know that. You swear he’s just trying to make you feel even guiltier and what is he getting out of that? You assume that it’s pleasure. “Why are you yelling at me?” You cry, letting out a broken sob.

Twice now, Eren has had to force himself to soften his tone with you; to handle you with more care. You just make it so damn hard, Y/N. “I’m not even yelling. Literally have not raised my voice at you.” He grits his teeth.

You don’t stop running your mouth though. That’s always been a big issue with you. “This is why I dumped your ass, Eren.” You’re still freezing from the rain but the anger you feel building up in the pit of your stomach is enough to fuel your spiteful words.

“You’re delusional.” Not only is that incorrect, but he can feel you doing what you always do. You’re shutting down and not retaining anything he’s saying to you - which will almost guarantee that the two of you are going to end up in this familiar position again the next time you and your parents fall out.

Eren love you. You’re broken up, yes, but he’ll always love you. If anything, he’s in the same position as your too-kind parents. He just wants the best for you but you’re such a spoiled fu.cking brat that you can’t see that. You only see what you want. “You’re fu.cking toxic.” You’re such a mess sometimes.

If either one of you was toxic in your relationship, it was you. Eren worked two jobs to keep you satisfied. Right before he let himself work to death, he realized that there was no competing with a girl’s father. The very moment he did something you didn’t like, you threatened to leave him and move back in with your millionaire parents. You wouldn’t have been fully satisfied by him unless he suddenly became a millionaire too. That’s why you broke up with him. Nothing’s ever enough for you.“Is that why you run straight into my arms at every minor inconvenience?”

Once again, your arms move to become crossed over your chest in defense. “I do not.” But even you see how ironic that sounds while you’re still dripping rainwater onto the leather of his car’s seats. Eren’s right but you’ll be damned if you admit it.

And he knows you’re not going to admit it. He knows that you know you’re in the wrong though. “Yes the fu.ck you do, Y/N.” There’s something about you that just drives Eren insane. Every time he gets you alone, all he really wants to do is open your eyes and show you just how difficult you are to be with. He wants to break you down and build you back up. Maybe the end product he carves out will be more bearable. “You can’t do fu.cking shit with out me and you know it. You’ve been like this since I met you.”

Who the hell does he think he is? You can’t believe you ever dating such an arrogant fool. The two of you are the least compatible people in the world and you both know it. There’s something magnetic between you though and neither one of you can stay away from the other. “My life would be much better if I had never fu.cking met you, Eren!” Any you’re lying through your fu.cking teeth. You know that on so many different levels you couldn’t survive with Eren. Yet, for some reason, the irony in that eludes you. The notion that maybe Eren and your father are right never hits you.

Your words have pissed him off all night but those really send him over the edge. He’s got half a mind to pull over and put you out in the pouring rain just to teach you a fu.cking lesson. “God, Y/N. You know you need me. You can’t do anything but sit there and look fu.cking pretty. Can’t cook for yourself. Clean for yourself. You can’t even get yourself from point A to point fu.cking B without me.” The heat in the air hangs thick and heavy and a different type of lesson hits Eren’s perverted mind. “Bet you can’t even fu.ck yourself right.”

His words all hit you at once. You want to defend yourself and assure him that if, for some reason you had to, you could feed yourself. You’re not completely hopeless. Rather than yelling at him for underestimating you and patronizing you, you look back at your ex and let your words die on your tongue. Twenty-five minutes left. How do you defend yourself against that? And now you’re thinking of your relationship again. You’re thinking of exactly what he means, the way that Eren used to fu.ck you isn’t anything that your small fingers can mimic. No amount of daddy’s money can purchase a s.ex toy good enough to reach Eren’s talent. He’s right there. He’s so right that it makes your blood boil. There are some things that you need him for.

You sniffle, realizing that you really do miss him. You two haven’t touched each other, beyond a side hug, since you broke up. Sure there have been other partners for the both of you but there’s an array of reasons why Eren still puts up with his spoiled ex and it’s not because of your personality. Your silence is very telling. He feels himself smirk and struggle to focus on driving. Suddenly, the tiredness in both of your bones feels as though it’s evaporating or replacing itself with pure adrenaline. He can feel your gaze on him soon enough and, oh, he recognizes that look.

He tries to talk himself out of it, of what he’s about to let himself do but the need looms over his head just as it does over yours and you both want to do something about it. He turns his thoughts off, lets the blood in his head travel elsewhere so that he can get what he wants for a chance. Eren pulls the car over and turns the key in the ignition until your surroundings are silent, save for the ongoing storm surrounding the car. The two of you are breathing heavily and, for the first time, neither of you have anything snarky to spit out.

Your ex rests his elbow on the console of the car and leverages his weight onto one arm so that he can lean into you and press your lips together. There’s a familiar taste on him, like his favorite flavor of toothpaste, when your tongue graces against Eren’s set of pristine teeth and finally makes contact with his own slithering tongue. You’re not sure why your first instinct is to hold back or to push away. Your first coherent thought is that you really shouldn’t be doing this.

His hands moves to grip the side of your face, one hand traveling to touch your neck and a simple touch is really all it takes for you to lose all of your thoughts. “Mhm, Eren.” You whisper, leaning into him just as much and returning the fever. His large palms stay glued to your dewy skin while yours travel to his thigh, not quite able to reach his lap.

You feel the anger in Eren’s grip on your face. It’s controlling and so tight that you wonder if the ink on his hands could come off on your cheeks from the moisture gathering on your bodies. He can’t help himself though. You do something to him. When you’re pissing him off and using him like a chauffeur, his apartment like a bed and breakfast, he can never refuse you.

The rain doesn’t slow or get any lighter as you and Eren kiss hurriedly in his car, still twenty minutes away from your destination. He tilts your head up to kiss you at an angle, to get you in an even more submissive position for him.

“You want some di.ck?” He asks you teasingly, when the two of you finally have pull apart to gasp for air. You gaze his hazy, positively drunk from Eren’s touch. If you could, you’d get on your knees and beg for it. It really wouldn’t be the first time he’s used his inches to fu.ck you right into your place; to humble you.

Eren’s hand squeezes it’s way between the seat and console to find the button he’s searching for and when he does, you feel your seat reclining back, allowing you to lay at the perfect angle. Your ex stares down at you, vulnerable and still shaking like a leaf. He hikes your legs up, skirt riding up along as well; leaving your panties perfectly exposed to his eyes. “Still wearing these slutty fu.cking panties, huh?” A rhetorical question of course, he knew it before even having to see for himself.

You gulp at his words, not having a sassy remark about how you know he likes it at the ready. Eren pushes them aside and lets his finger skim your pretty glossed lips teasingly. His eyes never leave your face, loving the cute expressions every time he ghosts over your clit. Your ex can tell that it’s taking all of your strength to not demand what you want from him - but it’s killing you to have to wait him out. Every light touch feels like fire between your legs and you’re leaking already. Shock waves get sent up your spine when Eren finally - finally - digs the tip of his thumb into your aching clit and rubs quick circles around the wet nub. You squeal at the sudden sensation, feeling the itch under your skin from feeling too good and your brain not processing it fast enough. “You gonna be a good girl and let me taste you?” And it’s been ages. It feels like decades since he’s been this hungry for pu.ssy. He’s got you right in front of him, making a little puddle on his seats and moaning like a bitch in heat. He barely had enough resolve to ask you permission.

Not that he needed it, your dumb brain is moving slowly but when he blurts out those words, Eren has to hold back a laugh at your desperate yeses. Eyes still screwed shut, you give him more than enough consent. He chuckles, laying uncomfortably across the console and stretching to get himself face to face with your womanhood.

When you two were together, Eren never failed to have you cu.mming and crying at the same time - never failed to please you beyond your conception. He likes to eat you out slowly. He’s always loved to be able to see all of your reactions and the cutest faces you make with every flick of his tongue. When he licks gently at your pulsing clit, his green eyes flick up to watch your mouth form a graceless O and force breaths out of it.

The essence of your pu.ssy gets him hard when it’s in his face like this but he can’t reach down to palm himself without loosening the grip he’s got on the pudge of your thighs and he can’t have you squirming away from him. Eren lifts the hood up to further expose your glistening pearl and you can feel him spelling his name out with the tip of his tongue. When you find the resolve in your mind to look down at the man eating you out mercilessly, you only make eye contact for the briefest off seconds before his eyes roll in the back of his head, drunk off of your taste. Eren hums deeply against your wet flesh, the vibrations of his voice like heaven. “Forgot how fu.cking good you taste, Y/N.” And it’s so good that he almost forgets why he’s so mad at you. It’s so fu.cking good that you can’t remember why you ever broke up with him.

More than anything, in this moment, Eren wants you cu.mming hard. He wants you dripping down the sides of his face and nearly drowning him. He wants you clogging his nostrils and running down his chin to make a terrible mess. He wants to smell you in his car like this for weeks after tonight so he adds two long fingers up to the hilt of his hand and sucks on your clit as if he’s trying to draw gold out of you. The swishing sound of Eren’s fingers unapologetically slapping against your insides fills the car. Make a mess, baby.

Eren only pulls his his face away from you to spit thickly onto your already dribbling cunt. His nails dig into your flesh, sure to leave obvious marks and big hand prints in their wake but the pleasure you’re getting from his mouth has completely taken over any sense your mind could conjure up. Your long nails carve out patterns in the long auburn roots of Eren’s hair. Green eyes flash up to watch you cry out loud, to take pleasure in watching you try to process all of the sensations you’re feeling at once. Nothing is more satisfying than watching you squirm to no avail, watching you struggle with your lack of control. Eren’s mouth moves to curl around your clit. The bud is hard and twitching, so ready to come undone.

“Cu.mming!” You cry out, yanking his hair like reins. He buries his entire face in your pu.ssy, the bridge of his nose swiping deliciously across the wet mess until he pushes you over the edge and his skin is soaked in your juices. He can feel you throbbing on his cheeks, trying to suck him in further with your pretty pink vortex. You pant as Eren laves his entire tongue across your pu.ssy, sucking up any leftover remnants from your org.asm.

“God, Eren.” And your praise always scratches him the right way; making him feel like exactly that - a God. He watches closely as your body jerks from the rush of your org.asm and slow tears roll down your dewy cheeks. “S-so.. good.” It goes without saying, really. Eren shimmies his way out of his jeans, letting his boxers fall of his ankles along with them. You watch through clouded vision as he squirms his way to your side of the car and, as always, you lay back while he does all the work - an ideal passenger princess. He’s not gonna lie. It’s hard work, being something he doesn’t do often but, eventually Eren finds a way to hover over your body.

Always quick to tease, Eren presses the swollen tip of his di.ck against your throbbing clit and it stimulates you quickly. “Should fu.ck your face first. Give that big mouth some use.” You almost retort, something sassy that would certainly warrant a punishment, but your words die on your tongue before you even get a chance to formulate them when your ex pushes himself into you; kindly affording you a chance to adjust to him.

Eren can’t remove his eyes from you, staring down at you as you work to catch your breath. He slides further into you, knocking the breath out of you when he’s only halfway in. “Fuh- forgot how big-” You choke out your words, hangs moving to grip the seat behind you to ground yourself. Eren feels his ego swell. His hips stutter when he feels you clench around him and he worries that he’s gonna cu.m instantly. Your cunt is a warm wet hug that he’s been missing for too long. When he feels himself fully sheathed inside of you, Eren feels like he’s coming home after a long trip. It’s indescribable. You feel correct.

He fills you up perfectly, tip pressing against your soft spot almost instantly. “‘Ren.” You sob, urging him to move already. He pulls out slowly, almost wanting to savor you because he’s not sure when he’ll get this chance again, and slowly presses back in. Your soft walls constrict against his length. “Feels so good, Eren.” You praise desperately when he picks up the pace. “di.ck feels so fu.cking good.”

He feels his brows knit together with exertion. Pressure builds between your bodies as Eren begins to fu.ck you steadily. “fu.ckin’ shit.” He groans deeply, fists squeezing the seat underneath you. Your legs stretch as far as they can but still sting from the feeling of slapping skin. All you can do is let out sobs, mouth hanging open for a line of drool to dribble down your chin as your ex fu.cks you dumb. Through the haze of pleasure, Eren is still able to find the resolve to ridicule you and tease you. “So this is all it takes, huh? This is what it takes to make the princess shut the fu.ck up? Just need to get fu.cked real good.” You can’t answer his condescending ass question. Your mouth is only good for moaning at this point.

His girth stretches you, tip tapping your g-spot with every thrust and pushing your entire body up the seat. “Fu.ck yes, Eren. fu.ck me hard like that.” The need to cu.m creeps over your body. The euphoria builds.

Your hands move on their own, wandering up to pull him down by his neck and pressing his face into your neck. He knows what you want even when he’s fu.cking you so hard that you can’t communicate. Eren’s lips kiss along your neck, leaving big wet marks in their wake. “Fu.ck, you can’t do shit without me, annoying ass rich girl.” He brings his argument back up, sure to win now that he’s balls deep in your weeping pu.ssy.

You don’t really hear him, don’t really register what he’s saying. You just let your nails dig into the back of his neck - demanding him to lavish you even more. This time, he lets you boss him around. “Harder!” You cry out, once more, feeling him hit the best spots deep inside of you but not as hard as you’d prefer. It’s like a reflex to demand something and you expect to receive it. The bedroom is not an exception. He should already know this.

“Spoiled fu.cking brat.” He curses, teeth grit and thrusts growing sloppier to comply with your demands. Before he even pulled his di.ck out of his pants, Eren knew that you’d make him fu.cking you a mission. The urgency of your impending org.asm isn’t lost on him. You legs wrap around his waist, an attempt to keep him close to you. You tried to be gentle with Eren’s skin but still find yourself leaving searing scratch marks on his back, blind to his pain due to your pleasure.

“I’m cu.mming.” You warn, but you really didn’t have to because Eren can feel you squeezing the life out of his di.ck and attempting to milk him until he’s spilling inside of you. The air in the car is heavy with the scent of s.ex and you grow positively drunk on the aroma. Everything you’re feeling is enough to have you squirting and creating a slippery mess in between your bodies. No words exit your mouth, a circle letting out a silent cry.

You cu.m so hard, walls seizing around his di.ck like a vice but he doesn’t lose his tempo for even a second, fu.cking you until you’re raw and clawing at his back from overstimulation. “Me too, princess. Where do you want it?” Eren ask, praying that you answer quickly enough for him to cu.m in the designated spot. He’s so close to cu.mming deep inside of your fluttering pu.ssy but before it’s too late, you give him a spot and whine at the feeling of him pulling out with a soft puk sound.

You gasp at the sudden loss. Your words were barely above a whisper but he hears you loud and clear and crawls up your body a little to jerk his di.ck above your face. You shut your eyes just in time. Eren cu.ms thick hot ropes that land on your face and runs through your hair, a milky mess that you’ve successfully milked out of him.

The feeling of Eren’s org.asm runs through his veins in hot waves, eyes glued to your pretty fu.cking face as you greedily lap at his cu.m and lick it off your lips; swallowing every glob that pops out of his tip. “You still taste good too, you know?” Your hand rubs at his abdomen, as if to thank his body for gifting you with his cu.m. You always get like this after s.ex, so sweet and loving. So much easier to be around.

Eren rubs his seed into the skin of your face, staring at you with all the adoration he can muster. “You’re a freak,” A cu.m-stained smile beams right back at him. When Eren maneuvers to sit back in the driver’s seat, his hips sting from how hard he’s been working and he can’t help but feel proud of you for taking all of it with a grin on your face. He can tell that he really fu.cked his frustration out and you gladly accepted it.

You hear the pair converse freely in the next room, rattling off random tasks and chores that need to be done in preparation for tonight's show and trying in vain to assign roles to one another. Eren’s voice is dead, monotoned, and clearly uninterested but Crystal continues rambling. Only when she realizes how futile it is to argue with him does she remember your existence. “Let’s just get her to do.” She muses.

“Y/N!” Your name in the form of a screech floats through the air, followed by the clicking of heels on linoleum. You know exactly who’s summoning you without even looking up. “Do you think you could you pick up Eren’s dry-cleaning? His concert fit should be ready by now.” Eren’s girlfriend approaches you, a fake smile shining in your face as she belittles your actual position in the singer’s life. It’s not your job to pick up his dry cleaning but she knows you’d never refuse service to your favorite artist, and she loves to exploit your devotion. She just loves to push your buttons.

All you can manage to do is lift the corners of your mouth into a begrudging smile and reluctantly grab your keys. On the way out of the building, you catch a glimpse of the man you idolize as he works at his desk, skilled hands typing away as he works on his lineup for tonight’s performance. He’s so focused and he’s wearing a set of headphones, so he hardly notices when his girlfriend opens the door to his studio to let herself back in after giving the leader of his fan club busy work.

Your devotion to the man has you doing these things, that most certainly aren’t your job, day in and out. He doesn’t even do anything to relay his appreciation to you and he never will. Why should he? If you don’t want to handle his miscellaneous tasks, you’re free to leave his orbit. You’re not on his payroll or anything. Getting to be around your favorite singer is payment enough. And, really, it would be worthwhile if you could do it all without his demeaning ass girlfriend bothering you all the time. She could easily hire someone else to pick up Eren’s dry cleaning (to get his morning coffee, to order his clothes, occasionally post on his social media when he doesn’t feel like it, walk his fucking dog) but there’s some kind of sick satisfaction that she gets out of assigning all the chores to you.

You almost understand her though. If you were her, you’d be annoyed with his fans hanging around him all the time with hearts in their eyes. The only excuse you have for being there is since you’re the owner of the most popular Eren Jaeger blog and all of his fans really care about your opinions. They follow you and read every article you post after his concerts, consume all your photos and content with diligence and maybe that online presence is what owns you a pass into his life, backstage to all of his concerts and the right to take care of his chores.

You try to make quick work of the remedial labor, not wanting to receive a text from the girlfriend to complain about you being slow. If you have to risk a grisly car wreck to please the artist, so be it. You can’t really help yourself, every Eren Jaeger-centric action you make is simply out of your control. That’s just the hold he has on you. You hazardously make your way through traffic like this out of loyalty.

And when you arrive back only to find that his girlfriend has flitted off on an influencer’s business, you’re happy to be the one that hands the burlap bag to Eren. His coldness is nothing new. It doesn’t bother you anymore. When he takes the coat hanger out of your grasp, your fingers touch for a split second, and you have to stop yourself from squealing right there in front of him. You receive no thanks for the futile task he let his girlfriend assign to you.

“Where’s Crystal?” You find the audacity to ask him, not particularly curious as to where she ran off to. You’re just looking for an excuse to get him to talk to you, to hear his voice. You just want him to say anything that’s addressed just to you and no one else. Eren gives you a sour look as if to say that you should know exactly where she went and reprimand you for asking such a dumb question. He takes the clothing into his changing room and slams the door behind him. A thankless job, indeed.

Eren’s girlfriend is posting photos every few minutes of herself at some... opening. You don’t really know where she had to go, that was more important than her partner’s concert – his lifeblood – but it doesn’t matter to you. You ignore the notifications from her insta as they pool on your phone and don’t take your eyes off Eren’s form. You’re behind him backstage but, as often as you find yourself staring at his face and studying his features, you can imagine how he looks while singing right now. He looks so attractive in the clothes that you picked up for him.

His grip on the mic is almost violent and the lyrics he shouts are no different. He’s let it slip once before – what most of his songs are about. His issues (borderline hatred) with his father are where he gets the inspiration for most of his music. And, sure, Eren may have been drunk when he told you that. He may have been feeling vulnerable when the two of you were alone after a previous show or maybe he was pissed because the girlfriend bailed on him minutes before he was set to go on stage. You don’t care if he confided in you because there was no one else around. Something about being the only person on the planet that knows such intimate information about Eren makes you feel so special.

There’s never been another moment like that since. Despite his drunkenness, Eren remembers what he said to you. You know he does. He remembers and he treats you differently than he did before he spilled his guts and cried to you (not that there’s a stark difference). You can’t bring yourself to wish that moment away though, no matter how he treats you now because of it. Thanks to that day, his music has been given an even deeper meaning to you. The spotlight you let shine on him is even brighter than it ever was. The pedestal you hold him on is even higher. No amount of coldness from him can change those feelings. You find it in yourself to break your eyes away from the singer for a split second and jot down little notes of import about his performance on your phone. Material for later.

The crowd’s roar dulls for you. A sense of intimacy washes over your headspace, creating a sensation of catharsis – proving that the concert is yet another religious experience. Their screams could never compare to the ones in your head. Moments like this make you feel like he’s only singing to you, like there aren’t thousands upon thousands of other people in the stadium all there because they love his music as much as you do; because that’s not possible. No one loves Eren as much as you do.

Without fail, once again, the world around you fades away and all that remains is the unbridled love you have for your favorite artist and the words of pain that he wrote to release his trauma; knowledge that only you have. The lyrics resonate deep within your soul, even though you can’t really relate to them. Sounds echo and triumph throughout the entirety of the stadium.

Eren’s voice is solely speaking to you right now, reaching places in the depths of your soul that only someone as magnetic as him could hit with such effortless notes. The connection you feel to him always flies right over his head as if he can’t feel it. And if he doesn’t, you suppose that’s okay for now. You’re not sure what event could be so important for a perfectly sane woman to choose over her long-term boyfriend, and you don’t really care. All you know is that, if Eren were yours, you’d still remain right where you are now and that’s right next to him.

Each lyric, song to song, seems to be infused with the complexities of your heart. You unravel there and then, tears flowing down your cheeks and smearing every bit of makeup you’d powdered on before. And, although you’d like to remain blissfully blind and allow yourself to try and take on the overwhelming connection between the two of you, you’re not ignorant to the reality that surrounds you.

You’re not the only one that cherishes Eren’s music. You’re just lucky. You can tune them out all you want but this building is filled to the brim with passionate and adoring fans, each with their own varying degrees of love for Eren Jaeger. They too have found solace in his words. And, to save yourself from hyperventilating over that fact, you retreat into your subconscious and pretend that all of this is just for you.

It may be tempting to believe that your love for Eren surpasses all the others, but you know he won’t reciprocate. He can barely be bothered to thank you for all your devotion. So why do you find yourself here so often? Why do you do this to yourself? How do you always end up backstage at his shows, giving him all your love, and on your knees sobbing for him? This objectively surreal experience doesn’t cheapen, doesn’t falter. Neither does your adoration.

You spend the Uber ride home floating on your own little cloud, completely boneless. Your brain makes moves for your body, as if you’re on autopilot. He brushed you off just as usual, but it doesn’t matter. Your heart still swells, filled with passion. You shower quickly, the day you just had flowing down the drain effortlessly and when you throw one of Eren’s old concert tees over your head, your legs carry your weight to the bed; anxious to sleep the euphoric concert high off.

All you can really find the energy to do, once you’re in bed, is own your Tumblr app to jot down a few notes and observations from the concert and infuse them with your own feelings – something that the Eren fans that follow your account have come to love over the years. The millions of them will be expecting a post from you pretty soon but there’s no way you can find the will to write paragraphs upon paragraphs, especially with the way that Eren dismissed you as soon as he got off stage.

Even with laziness in your bones, you can’t stop your rogue thumb from scrolling through your feed. You never can. One of your mutuals has been writing all day, leaving a feast of Eren fanfics for you to fantasize over. Your hungry eyes scan each and every word, consuming the smut to your heart’s content. It’s not long before you feel a neediness growing between your legs and it’s too hard to ignore.

You wanna scream out loud. Fuck, she’s such a good writer, you think. The AUs of Eren being your college classmate and corrupting you have this hold on you that you can’t explain, and this author is phenomenal at them. Your fingers travel between your legs and past the waistband of your panties before you can stop them. The knowledge that he’s really nothing like this in real life doesn’t matter at all to you.

The soft pads of your fingertips gingerly glide against your already sensitive skin. Down, down, down, further until you’re greeted with that tell-tale slickness. Eren’s fics never fail to elicit this type of reaction from your body and the guilt you feel for consuming it, even creating it, all while you work so closely to him in real life only drive you to allow your fingers to dive deep with your soft walls. You drop your phone, mind revisiting how you felt during the act of reading the fanfiction and allow your whines to climb in pitch.

All the times when you accidentally stood too close to the singer and could get hints of his cologne replay in your mind. All the memories when he’d say your name with that gruff voice of his flow throughout your brain. When your hands grazed his so that you could hand him the dry-cleaning bag – remembering the feeling of his feverish skin sends shockwaves through your body and it’s all too much. You feel your orgasm approaching fast.

The thought that really pushes you over the edge sends surges of guilt through your body but, when you remember the night that he was too intoxicated and vulnerable to stop himself from confiding in you about his trauma, you cum harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. The idea of him needing you to be there for him is almost too much to bear.

As you come down from your orgasm, the energy your actions have given you urge you to sit up in bed and reach for your PC – ready to write. Still, your article about tonight’s concert will have to hold. Your followers will understand. It’s not long before you’re in the dark of your bedroom, only getting light from your laptop and taping away at the keyboard. The smut flows out of your brain into word form like it’s nothing and, while it may take you some time, you post a quick oneshot on your side blog. This is not an uncommon activity for you. Far from it and you always post your smut under a completely anonymous name so that no one will know it’s been written by the president of Eren’s fanclub. You fall back into your duvet – the fresh smut on your blog, a thin sheen of sweat, and a dewy mess between your legs serving as the only reminder of your perversion.

The studio is silent, but it doesn’t' phase you. The only sound coming from the air conditioning unit next to you. You hung out at Eren’s studio all night, occasionally running an errand or two for him. His girlfriend didn’t come by, and he didn’t want to have to leave his work to get his own lunch or something. That’s what you’re for. The day dragged on into night seemingly in an instant. It’s been a while since he called you for something. You sight as you get up from your haphazard perch on the sofa and knock on Eren's studio door. You usually have to knock twice because he wears headphones when he’s working. You raise your hand to knock once more but the door swings open and you’re met with an irritated expression, your fist still raised in front of you.

Eren looks at you expectantly, still silent. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading out for the night. Do you need me to take care of anything else?” When you arrived at his workspace, you brought breakfast for him. In between stints of him staying locked away in his room, you brought him lunch. Now here you both are at nearly ten at night and he hasn’t bothered you for much else. “Dinner, maybe?”

Eren gives you a look that bothers you. It looks as if he means to ask you if you have anything else to do besides bringing him all three of his meals. He looks like he wants to tell you to worry about yourself. He could order food. You worry about the day he tells you that he doesn’t need you. It’s always burried beneath the surface. You know that day is coming. “No, just leave for fucks sake Y/N.”

Your idol looks at you with a disgusted expression and slams the door in your face. For a moment, all you can really do is stare at the surface of the steel door ominously shut in front of you. Never a thank you. Never a hint of gratitude. Bastard. Something in you snaps. The resolve you hold onto by the skin of your teeth cracks a little and you don’t stop yourself from banging on the door once more. Eren groans in frustration from the other side and swings it open, repeating his actions with a little more rage on his face this time. “The fuck?!” He shouts, looking ready to berate you.

His eyes are furious, clearly already dealing with being frustrated all day because his girlfriend is posting on IG all day about all the fun, she’s having without him while he’s working. Maybe you don’t make matters any better, hovering around him when he really doesn’t need you to be. That possibility rests neglected in the back of your mind so that you can get your words out, finally speaking your mind. “You know...” And you give yourself time to run over your words to be sure they’re exactly what you want. “You could be nicer to me. I do so much for you, and you never even thank me.”

Eren exhales, beyond pissed at you. He wishes he could fire you, but you don’t necessarily work for him. You’re not on his company’s payroll or anything. Neither he nor his girlfriend pays you for all the work you do for him. That’s what he finds so pathetic about you. You willingly get out of bed every morning with the intention of running his errands and playing servant to someone that doesn’t even want you around. What really pisses him off is that he can’t even kick you out of his life. He’s brought it up to his management. Can we do something about the annoying fangirl that’s always following me around, he asked in a meeting once.

It seemed like a fair question, but he was advised by multiple people to give you things to do until you got bored of him and found someone else to obsess over. Your blog is read by the majority of his fans. The popularity of your words, thoughts, and opinions isn’t lost on him. What would happen if he were outed for being an asshole to the girl that worships him and dedicates so much time to him and his career? God, he’d probably get cancelled or something. That knowledge of the power and influence you hold over him is not lost on him. It lingers in the back of his head but the words he throws at you in the moment are a product of him not thinking clearly – letting his annoyance control his every move. “I didn’t ask you to dedicate all your time to me. You chose to do this, Y/N, so I really don’t owe you any gratitude.” He shouts once more.

The logic behind the fact that he didn’t ask you to do anything you do for him, therefore he doesn’t have to thank you, is bullshit. How hard is it to say thank you to someone that gives you all of their time? That devotes it all to you so selflessly? You do more than his worthless girlfriend does! “That’s not true!” You have to refrain from stomping your foot. You feel your body heat up. Pissed isn’t even the word to describe how you’re feeling. Confusion scrambles your thoughts. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

It’s not that you did anything wrong. He never wanted you around from the beginning. From day one, Eren knew that he didn’t want to be the type of artist that had stupid things like fan clubs. He knows that it isn’t your fault that he feels this way but, at this moment, he doesn’t care. You act like a Make-A-Wish kid, and he finally speaks his truth, not caring how harsh he might sound. “I just don’t want to deal with some starfucker all the time!” His tone carries throughout the sound booth that you’ve both stepped into and, to say the accusation hurt your feelings, would be a real understatement.

You really can’t believe he just said that to you. Of course, you’re beyond attracted to him. Maybe you’re not so subtle in your jealousy of his girlfriend. Fuck, maybe you’re obvious. You’ve never crossed the line with him though. Inappropriate urges come and go, and you ignore them like a trooper because that’s just what adults are supposed to do.

“I’m not a starfucker!” You exclaim, annoyed that he assumes the worst of you and won’t even give you a chance. Your love for him is better than any sexual attraction there could be. Eren is more than that. You love his music. You love his heart and soul. The love you have for him would be just as strong without his body. Sometimes, you wonder why you worship Eren. He’s never given you a shred of appreciation for all of the love you give him – not that you feel like he should reciprocate. It’s almost as if he goes out of his way to avoid the words thank you.

His music is... otherworldly though and it speaks for itself. He’s talented and no one, not even you, can take that away from him. No matter how he treats the president of his fan club, he’ll never lack open doors in his life. There’s always going to be an endless line of women just like you to worship the ground he walks on, and he knows that. You’re not sure why you feel the need to fruitlessly defend your intentions to him. “I'm… your biggest fan." He’s never going to believe you anyway.

“What’s the fucking difference.” A rhetorical question but your head swells with answers, all proving your innocent intent. Eren turns to seat himself back at his work desk, an indication for you to leave him alone without another word. The self-defense you keep rattling off is hard to stop though. You can’t help yourself.

You finally snap. “Not everyone wants to fuck you, Eren.” It’s... a lie. You’re lying right now but he doesn’t have to know that. Your service to him, the blog you run, everything that you’ve done to further advance his career, comes from an innocent place.

He chuckles and pulls his headphones from around his neck, dropping them on the soundboard in front of him. He’s not entirely arrogant or full of himself. “I know that.” He mutters under his breath before standing to his feet and towering over you. His voice chills and he steps towards you, so close that you can smell his cologne. “But I know you do.” More arrogance pours out of his mouth. He speaks as if he knows with absolute certainty that you hold sexual attraction for him. This side of him would be so unattractive if he weren’t completely right.

That’s the thing though. He’s not just being his arrogant self. Eren is speaking like he knows he’s right and your heart drops at the realization. “H-how?” As if that word alone isn’t a direct indication of his intuition. He doesn’t break eye contact with you and the intensity between you grows. You begin to feel dizzy.

Eren sucks his teeth and exhales, giving a look signaling that he’s about to drop a bomb on you and before he even opens his mouth, you know exactly what’s really going on – why he’s so confident in his accusation that your intentions are less than pure. “Because I read your blog.”

Your heart stops beating for a moment, but you hide your shock well. You haven’t lost yet. You can still cover this up. He didn’t specify which blog. “Congratulations, asshole. Millions of people read my blog.” It’s not a lie. Millions of people read your blog dedicated to attending Eren’s shows, his daily routines, or whatever else you post. People like that type of stuff. No one knows that you run a second smut blog. You did so well when setting the account up, using a burner email to sign up and a burner phone number to secure the account. You keep them separate from each other and even use a fake pseudonym on the secret account. It’s airtight. He doesn’t know.

Eren’s next words shatter you though. Your entire online reputation flashes before your eyes, millions of instant likes that you usually get evaporate. Your verification and prestige will be worthless. Not to mention that Eren probably thinks you’re some perverted creep now. And Crystal would have a fucking field day branding you as a stalker for clout online. It’s over. Your life is over, isn’t it?

Your heart truly stops. “I know about your side blog, Y/N.” You’re genuinely concerned about dropping dead of a heart attack. Eren’s words go muffled even as he explains that he found it because you left your Tumblr up on a desktop around his studio after writing an article and he happened to glance at it before you could log off. What awful luck, you think. Truly, you’re angrier at yourself for not being more careful. His satisfied smirk is burned into your brain. Why shouldn’t he be satisfied? He caught you lacking and now you’re going to pay the price. “And I found your stan Twitter through it too.” Insult to injury, really.

The truth is all out in the open now though. Eren knows exactly what you think about him, what you write about him. He’s always known and never said anything, just looked you in the eye and lied to you for who knows how long. And when you reflect on the twenty-something fanfictions you’ve posted about him on Tumblr and AO3, you can’t be upset with him for growing to have distaste for you. Some of the kinks in those fics are too much. You get light-headed and almost let your knees buckle when your mind fills with the filthy words that he read about himself – all coming from your mind. “You read my...” But your words die on your tongue when you can’t even bring yourself to say it.

“Every time you post.” He doesn’t miss a beat, knowing the effect his words are having on your frail mind, knowing that your life is flashing before your eyes. You did notice a few weeks back that he’d get notifications form his phone around the times your scheduled posts would go out on your smut blog but never thought anything of it, writing off the fact that it was your fic going to his phone as something that was impossible.

Now you’re learning that it was entirely possible. The post from last night about how you got off on the idea of him writing music for you. You take a minute to soak in his confession, knowing that he’s won this argument, and your first instinct is to apologize and tell him that you’ll leave him alone – knowing how creepy your fanfic must be to him.

Eren lets you squirm, lets you cry a bit. You look like you’re on the brink of a panic attack, breathing uneven and erratic. He can tell that you’re really fucking humiliated and something in him likes that. Something in the way he sees you changes. You’re kind of cute; letting silent tears flow down your cheeks. He scrolled through your side blog for countless hours.

When you begin to struggle to get your breathing back under control, Eren lets himself visibly soften – intentions changing. He clears his throat. “You’re actually a good writer.” He provides a small compliment. It’s worth noting that your side blog is almost as popular as your main and his fans seem to love everything you write about him – even though it’s all smut. Who knew the meek little fangirl was actually a serious freak?

The panic attack bubbling up inside of you takes over and you begin bawling, shaking out of fear. “I’m so sorry, Eren!” Your tears streak across your cheeks. You don’t want him to send you away, unaware that he can’t actually do that. But you can’t really think of an excuse for being a fic writer to someone you know in real life. You know how it must look. Clearly, his compliment went in one in one ear and out the other since you don’t reference it – despite begging him for some kind of validation for months.

Eren does something that puts you in shock. He places his hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye, speaking softly as if he’s trying to take his words back after seeing the reaction, he achieved from you. He hushes you and tries to calm you down, never seeing you quake in fear like this and not liking it one bit – never been one to handle a crying girl. “Calm down, Y/N.” Eren exhales a deep breath and rolls his eyes at your hysterics.

To your credit, you manage to get your shit together on demand. The panic still buzzes unpleasantly just under the surface of your skin, and you can’t shake the feeling of dread. You hiccup, small sobs still passing between your lips. Eren’s large palms linger on your bare shoulders and the touch is as tender as you almost imagined it to be – as you wrote it to be. “I’m not upset with you.” He promises.

“You’re not?” You sniffle, voice croaking. Salty tears dry on your cheeks, and you find it in yourself to stare into the forest green eyes once again. Eren leans into you, testing your limits. Sure, you get on his nerves sometimes. It really pisses him off sometimes that someone like you can find it in yourself to accompany him throughout the journey of his career, but his girlfriend can’t. The devotion that fills your body when it comes to Eren doesn’t even come close to hers. Oftentimes he wonders if she’s just with him for status and the engagement ring he hasn’t found time to give her feels like it weighs a ton in his pocket right now.

In spite of the fact that he finds you annoying, he still thinks you’re a nice girl and your loyalty to him and his music is refreshing. Eren can respect that you haven’t really crossed any lines with him. You clearly channeled all of those feelings into fic, and he actually finds it... hot. Maybe he should go easier on you, he thinks. Maybe he should be kinder to someone that loves him as much as you do. “I’m not.” He confirms that he’s not feeling anger. Maybe he should give you what you want. Surely, you’ve earned it. “I actually... kind of like your fanfiction.” He speaks honestly.

Now you’re confused. That’s not even the word for it, really. There isn’t a word big enough to describe the distress you’ve gone through in the last few minutes. “W-what?” Eren doesn’t say anything else. He leans in and gives you a look, as if asking permission for something. In no universe would you ever refuse Eren’s request – even a silent one like this. You’re having a difficult time processing the new developments between the two of you. He’s really read all of your fics. He likes them. It’s unbelievable.

You nod your head and breathe in softly, giving into him. When he closes the gap between you with his lips, you have to fight the urge to pinch your arm to figure out if you’re having another one of those dreams again. He kisses you softly, hands leaving your shoulders and wandering down to your waist. And you let your instincts guide your actions. The two of you kiss softly for what feels like hours and you still let silent tears run from the corners of your eyes, keeping them hooded out of fear that he’ll disappear if you fully close them.

When he pulls away from you, Eren doesn’t say anything for a moment – seeming to gauge your reaction. He thumbs at the tears on your face, he smiles. “Why are you still crying, baby?” But you can’t bring yourself to part your lips. All you can do is stare at your idol in disbelief. Even though you work so closely with him, you would’ve never guessed that something like this would happen – not with his girlfriend around.

His girlfriend. Crystal. How could you forget about her and let Eren kiss you like that? Guilt fills you up and, even though you two hate each other, you’re not sure if you could be the type of girl that someone uses to cheat. Does Eren even like you? What a fucking stupid question. You know he doesn’t like you. Why would his feelings change all of a sudden? How does knowledge of your smut blog change things? Eren speaks faster than your thoughts move. “Why don’t you let me give you some new material to write about?” He whispers, hands never moving from your hips and pulling you closer to him. Eren smirks at your loss for words. Of course, you’re speechless but you don’t think you could sleep peacefully ever again if you passed up such an opportunity.

Eren’s asking if he fuck you. That’s the only thing you know to be true in this moment. You find it in yourself to nod your head to indicate your consent. He chuckles, leaning over you to flick up a light switch. It doesn’t illuminate the dim room you’re standing in, just turns on the do not disturb sign outside of his studio. He shuts and locks the door behind you.

Before you have a chance to register what’s happening, Crystal’s boyfriend is holding you close to him and kissing you with more hunger and passion than you’ve ever seen between the two of them. They kiss in front of you all the time by now that Eren’s hot lips are attached to your own, you don’t think they’ve ever shared a kiss beyond a peck in front of you. The idea thar Eren is kissing you with more passion than he does with his girlfriend turns you on more than anything in the world could.

Eren’s lips are softer than you dreamt they would be, softer than you wrote them as. Eren lets the kiss ease you into the experience. It’s not long before he pulls away from you and lets his filthy thoughts out into the world. “You gonna let me do what I want to you?” And you can acknowledge that he’s only asking you that because you’re such a big fan of his that you’re bound to say yes. He knows you too well; knows that you’d do anything to please him. Eren squeezes your hips, keeping your body close to him. You don’t have to say anything. Your idol knows the answer to the question already.

“And are you gonna keep it a secret? Not gonna post about it on your little blog?” That’s a harder promise to make but you agree. It’s not long before you feel Eren’s dick hardening against your thigh, as close as the two of you are to each other. He kisses you deeper; until you’re dying to breathe and, in spite of it all, you still can’t believe that this is happening. You thought that he had hate for you that would run too deep to touch you. More so, you always figured that his frivolous girlfriend was enough to satisfy him. Thank God you’re close enough to see the trouble in paradise for what it really is.

Eren backs up until he’s able to seat himself in the desk chair he’s always working in and pulls you along with him so that you’re carefully seated on his lap, your thighs straddling either side of his legs. You whine at the feeling of your spread legs against his clothed dick. His hands, sneaky sneaky hands, make their way from your waist up your body and pull your shirt up along with them, exposing your skin with every inch. Eren unclasps your bra like a pro, like he does it every day, and lets it fall to the ground. The simple action leaves you to wonder how often he and Crystal find themselves in this exact compromising position when you’re around. You figure that, if they fucked in his office, you would hear them, so you let go of thought go and focus on the moment. Your idol feasts his eyes on your tits when they’re finally exposed to his hungry gaze.

He seems to survey your expression, looking for any signs of unease, and when he finds that you’re only getting hotter and much more bothered with every passing second, Eren leans into your chest to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. His pleased hum vibrates along your sensitive skin when a resounding moan exits your mouth. You’re so easy to get riled up, really, aren’t you embarrassed? He wonders this as he watches you throw your head back, loving the feeling of his hot tongue lazily stroking your soft nipple.

Eren generously lets you rut against his clothed dick, liking the friction and loving the desperation in your whines. His jeans get tighter with every thrust, his cock gets harder with every moan. And soon enough you're both growing desperately. “Are you my biggest fan?” Eren asks, through moans and through mouthfuls of your sensitive flesh. He gropes you as if trying to commit every curve of your body to memory. He removes his mouth from your body and looks at you with all seriousness.

“Yes!” You cry, hips never slowing, movements never ceasing. You dry-hump Eren for as long as he allows you too – feeling the privilege of this action. You moan every word out and try to gulp, feeling a simple action like breathing becoming a chore; something you have to concentrate on.

Eren pulls you back, hands going back to your hips to control your actions. His eyes glaze over with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. And when he speaks up, the sternness of his words freezes you to your core. “Then get on your knees and fuckin’ prove it.” There isn’t a moment of hesitation. You’re careful when you climb out of his lap, still drunk from his kiss.

You ignore the ache when you get to your knees, fully submissive between Eren’s legs. Eren unbuckles his belt and allows his dick to spring free. He’s long but not lacking in girth, one prominent vein running along the length of the shaft and blushed at this tip – leaking precum already. A sense of accomplishment runs through your body like a shiver at the fact that you’ve already got Eren leaking.

He catches you staring and gives you a look as if to ask if you’re gonna suck it or just stare at it. Eternity feels like it passes, through your fingertips but soon enough, you find the nerve to allow your palms to make contact with Eren's dick, that doesn’t necessarily look like you pictured it to look. You sit up properly and hesitantly mouth at the crying tip, slit covered in salty fluid. It’s your first time giving anyone head and he can tell. You’re really no good and he’s not too shy to voice his dissatisfaction. “First time?” He asks, insulting you without even trying. “Thought you wanted to suck me off really bad, considering how much you write about it.” And he’s right. You do want to suck him off. Fuck, you really want to please him. It’s like second nature.

The corners of your lips sting as they stretch to accommodate his girth. Eren never wastes an opportunity to remind you that he knows all your secrets. You try to take him all in your mouth but cough a bit. He pulls you off his dick and makes you stop. “S’ okay. We’ll come back to that.” And he blames himself for not training you properly. Eren decides to focus on loosening you up so that you’ll be of some use to him.

Eren uses his large palm to pat a specific part of his work desk directly in front of him, signaling for you to take a seat on the exact spot. You obey, just as you would if he asked you to bend your body into a pretzel or something else just as impossible. “Show me what you do when you're thinking about me at home.” You look him in the eye, searching for some inconsistency. Eren is just as serious as he always is. Your legs spread on their own, minds of their own. You don’t bother pulling your panties off your body, settling of pulling them aside and exposing your glistening pussy to your idol.

He stares in disbelief, as if the idea of such a pretty pussy walking around him all day and him not knowing it is simply something that couldn’t be. Somehow, the experience of touching yourself in front of him isn’t embarrassing. You don’t get bashful easily – for some reason you’ll puzzle out later. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with Eren though, eyes settling comfortably on his palm that grips his still erect dick. Your fingers land on your own clit easily, not wasting time twirling it around and you find it in yourself to pleasure yourself quickly. You gasp. “Oh.” It’s shameless, really. So shameless the way you touch yourself fin front of Eren just because he demanded for you to do so but fuck if you care. It’s not long before you’re rubbing quick circles before his devious eyes.

You let your moans will the soundproof room, not caring how slutty you sound in the slightest. You waste no time moaning his name, loving the way it tastes in your mouth. Eren watches as you throw your head back and expertly rub your glistening pearl. “Look at me when you cum.” He demands, voice like velvet. He’s impossible to deny, sounding like that. You find it in yourself to look back at him and maintain eye contact.

He keeps his eyes on you, only growing achingly hard at the fact that you can take direction and obey him. That’s how you cum. You cum just as he ordered you to, playing your delicate clit and staring desperately into Eren’s eyes, as if you could cast a love spell on the singer with this method. “So fucking pretty.” Eren compliments you, giving you more of the praise that you craved from him for so long.

No longer thinking about self-control, the singer allows himself to scoot the desk chair closer to you and inch his face to your heated core. You task yourself with holding your soiled panties out to the way as Eren laps up the sticky mess on your core. Slurping sounds feel the sound-treated studio, music to both of your ears – he's tempted to put the symphony of pleasure in his next album.

The desire to give you a well-deserved orgasm on his own overcomes Eren and he doesn’t stop himself from filling you with the six-inch long digits, finding your throbbing core instantly and earning a scream from the barrel of your throat. “You like that?” Eren asks as if your moans of pleasure aren’t answer enough. You grip the edge of the desk with one hand and let the other bury in his hair, feet planted securely on the wooden surface of the desk. This is better than any fanfiction you could possibly write. Saying that Eren lives up to expectations isn’t really fair because he makes it his mission to exceed them.

“Yes, Eren!” You cry, losing all resolve. He finger-fucks you until you’re hurdling straight into your next orgasm and flying to close to the sun. You cry out loud, sure that this room isn’t soundproof enough to hide that sounds of ecstasy he coaxes out of your parted lips. You want to assure him even more, assure him that he’s as good as he thinks he is. Nothing would make you feel better than to be able to inflate Eren’s ego.

“Say it then.” He demands, wanting more from you. Eren curls his fingers up, seeming to know exactly where your softest spots are within and taking advantage of the knowledge. Assuming that he has an ego to feed was a good instinct on your part. “Wanna hear in your fucked-out voice, baby girl.” For a moment, you fool yourself into thinking that Eren actually cares about your pleasure. You cry out, telling him whatever he wants to hear and using your hands to keep you secure on the table and begin to thrust your hips up to fuck yourself on his fingers.

No amount of degrading words flowing through Eren’s lips can mar this moment. You’ve written about doing these very things with him. You’ve dreamed about them and now it’s finally happening. You’ll cum for him as many times as he wants you to, no questions asked. “This is really all you needed, huh?” He chuckles. “Just needed to someone to slut you out really good.” You’re still thrusting your hips to meet his fingers and when you cum again, you squirt enough to leave yourself sitting in a puddle on the hardwood of his work desk. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by this though, almost proud that you can produce so much for him, proud of your copious amounts of arousal. “Look at the mess you made on my work desk, Y/N.” Eren teases, feigning annoyance and loving the borderline humiliated look that crosses your expression.

Still, you keep your legs spread and your leaking pussy exposed before his eyes until he tells you otherwise. You pant, tired from the concentration that had to go into focusing on yet another orgasm. Anything for your idol though. He scoots back a bit to take in the view, you all spread out and fully obedient for him – more devoted to pleasing him than anyone he’s ever met in his life. If he wasn’t so hard in his pants right now, he’d be terrified of you. “Can’t very well explain that to the cleaning crew, can I?” He pulls you up by your wrist to stand with your wobbly legs.

He doesn’t waste time asking if you’re into what he’s got planned. Eren just fists his hands in your hair and pulls your head back, fighting the urge to bite into the inviting flesh of your neck. You shiver at the warm breath on your skin. “Lick it up.” Eren’s words are cold. His demand is harsh. You let him manhandle you into bending over the wood of the desk until you’re eye level with your mess.

A deranged part of you wants to ask him if he’s serious but the more dominant part of you jumps to obey him, pushes that weaker side down and ignores it, neglects it until it finally dies. Your tongue graciously laves over the hard wooden surface of the desk that Eren works at every day, creating songs that reach the deepest parts of your soul. He stands behind you, eyes glued to you like a warden, staring in disbelief as you lap up every bit of your own juices. He can’t believe you really listened to him without a single word of question. Really, he’s wondering how he allowed himself to look over you all this time. You’re such a fun little toy.

Your phone chimes, interrupting your ministrations as you lap up every drop until a sticky layer of cum-coated saliva films wooden surface. The both of you unanimously decide to ignore the notification as he pulls you back up for another sloppy kiss. Perverted bastard. You love it. Eren lets his tongue overlay yours, tasting your own cum in your mouth and getting hard at the humiliation he’s putting you through – knowing that you like it.

He’s clearly pleased with the way you allow yourself to bend at his will, to be used by him and played with like a little sex doll. Crystal would never allow herself to be treated this way, but your clit is already throbbing at the idea of him degrading you further. He loves that you allow yourself to come out of your shell and watches closely as you kick your bottoms off from around your legs; fully exposing your body for him to rake his eyes over.

Without awaiting another order from the singer, you rest your elbows on the moist tabletop in front of you and bend over it to put your pretty pussy on display. Eren makes a pleased sound and fully removes his pants, matching you. He pulls his dick out and lines it up with your waiting cunt. Just before he grazes your slick entrance with his throbbing tip, your phone lets out another annoying notification. This time he spares it a glance but doesn’t let it break his concentration. It’s annoying him but not enough to take him away from you.

Your pussy sucks him in like a vortex. He inches himself into you slowly at first, worried that he might bust instantly at the feeling of you pulsing around him. And he tries to fuck you with his whole dick just as slowly, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him for the first time, but he can’t control himself. You can’t believe that this is happening. Your idol is bottoming out inside of you, fucking you with a growing urgency and beginning to moan as well.

He moans out loud about how good you feel, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering if you feel better than Crystal. You want to feel bad about wondering if you’re a better fuck that his serious girlfriend, but you can’t, although you don’t beg the question out loud. “You’re amazing.” You use your mouth for something other than moaning for once and give him some much-desired praise.

“That’s gospel, baby.” He kisses the back of your head, fucking you at the pace of a wild animal soon after. He feels so good inside of you, living up to the fantasy of him that lingered in your head and on your Tumblr. You wish for a moment that you could tell your followers just how good Eren fucks. He grips your hips, slamming himself into you and letting the sound of your moans fill his ears; accompanied by the sound of flesh smack against flesh. Sweat gathers on his hairline from exertion and, while he won’t dare say it, you’re so much better than his girlfriend that he can’t stand it. He wishes you were her.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked filthy by your favorite celebrity. Dreams really do come true.” He degrades you and groans as your walls seize around him due to the harsh words. The edge of the desk creates a painful crease in your skin as push yourself further into it and you just know that if he could see it from his angle, Eren would fill you up at the knowledge that he was fucking you full of pleasure and pain. The pain you’re receiving pushes you into your next orgasm, dry but no less satisfying.

“God, fuck, Eren!” You cry out, cum spurting out of you in all directions to leave yet another mess for you to mop up with your tongue. Eren’s ego needs to see the face he’s causing you to create, expression all scrunched up in pleasure. He’s not gentle when he pulls you off the desk and turns you to press your back into the hard wood - sure that the new position is uncomfortable and distracting you from that by pushing his dick right back into you until the hilt. You cry out at the delicious burn of him stretching you out once again. The new position affords Eren the ability to reach deeper parts inside of you, cock travel all the way up the temple of your cunt until it kisses your uterus in the most deliciously painful way possible.

Your hands unconsciously shoot up to run your nails along the tender flesh of Eren’s back, only for him to yank your hands back down and pin them above your head. “Sorry, baby. Can’t have you scratching my back up for her to see.” Something about him mentioning her pisses you off but you bite your tongue in favor of moaning as you take more of his harsh thrusts. He skips the gentleness and fucks you hard, gaping you on his long girth.

While gazing down at your pretty face, Eren’s eyeline focuses on your puckered mouth – circled to let out your slutty little moans one-by-one. “Open your mouth wider.” He demands, without even thinking about it. “Now.” And never needing to be told twice, you obey, stretching your lips to follow orders. He doesn’t slow his tempo; hips snapping to nail the softest part of your pussy and elicit moans from you all the same. He really takes you by surprise when he leans over your mouth and spits thickly into your waiting mouth.

He doesn’t have to deliver an order after his spit hits your tongue. You take a moment to savor Eren’s taste before swallowing it all down, assuring him that his saliva is on its way to rest in the pit of your stomach; successfully marking you. It’s not enough though. You can’t consider yourself fully marked by your idol until you have him filling all your holes – not just your mouth. “Eren...” You moan, dutifully taking each stroke he serves you. He feels so good against your constricting walls, shoving in and barely having enough self-control to pull out so he can fuck you properly. “Cum inside me, p-please!”

You know it’s so toxic of you to ask. You know this. The last thing you’d want Eren to think is that you’re trying to baby-trap him by practically begging him to fill you up when you’re both already so close to cumming. You hope he won’t lose any of the meager respect he has for you when you beg the question, his fists grip your wrists harder. “I already did.” He grunts, giving you a moment to feel his warmth pooling inside of your tightening cunt.

You gasp at the otherworldly feeling, feeling so full. You feel so unbelievably full of him, and you gasp at the sensation. You’re at a loss for words, can’t believe he just bred you like that. Your bodies stick together as he fucks you through your orgasm, hand wiggling between your sweat-slick bodies to stroke circles around your clit. You gasp, yet another rush of feelings causing your body to quake and the overwhelming sentiment of being bred by the man you worship enough to push you over the edge and squirt in such copious amounts that the small tuft of hair nestled at the base of Eren’s cock turns a darker shade of brown when your juices are soaking him there. "Aw, you should see how cute your face looks like this. Cumming your nonexistent brains out like this." His words go right over your head, unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t have to do with the breathtaking orgasm he’s gifted you.

The two of you take a moment to breathe. His eyes rake over your exhausted body, admiring his handiwork and watching as his cum dribbles out of you in small spurts of milky white. He’s about to compliment the way you took him, better than anyone ever has, when your phone goes off once more – sounding as if someone is trying urgently to reach you. Could it be another guy? He would’ve never assumed that you were both taken cheaters. Call him a hypocrite but the idea of you being taken by some other guy, despite the dedication you give him, really pisses him off.

You’re falling in and out of consciousness, still too sensitive to notice him grabbing your phone from the pocket of your discarded clothing. He opens it, finding that you don’t lock your phone. The notification screen is full of alerts from Instagram, showing that Crystal has been posting for the last few hours while he’s had you locked in his studio and fucking your brains out. He should’ve known it wasn’t a boyfriend. Who would date a fan girl like you? “You follow her?” Eren laughs when your phone lights up with the notification that she’s posting on IG. “I don’t even follow her.”

The look on your face suggests embarrassment but he’s sure that you just try to keep up the frenemies appearance with Crystal and that’s why you stay updated on her social media. You sit up to see what he’s seeing. Her feed is displaying photos of her at a bar or something, taking shots, smiling, and cuddling up with some other influencers. He scrolls along, irritated with her. Before he has the chance to shove your phone back at you, another pops up right before his eyes.

Crystal’s eyes aren’t on the person taking the photo, just locked in on a guy, making intense eye contact. He’s got her arms around her waist and he’s clearly flirting with her and she’s not rejecting him. And Eren knows those eyes. She flashes them at him when she’s in heat all the time. What really pisses him off is that he’s asked her hundreds of times to stop hanging out with that guy because he’s clearly just trying to fuck her. Now look at her. She bails out on a night with him to be with him? Suddenly, any guilt he could’ve had about cheating on his girlfriend with you evaporates and is replaced by the overwhelming need to make a point.

The look in Eren’s eyes significantly darkens and maybe a gaze like that would scare a normal woman but it only coaxes out another burst of arousal. He grips your wrists and pulls you close to him, completely overtaking your mouth with his own. The kiss is infused with his anger. It’s furious and you don’t need to know why. All he manages to do is turn you on. Your knees feel weak as you moan into the kiss. He doesn’t show you any mercy, not giving you a moment to breathe until he’s satisfied that he’s taken his frustration out on you. The singer grips your hair, pulling harshly. He grits his teeth when he speaks again. “On your knees again.”

For a moment, you worry that you did something to piss him off but let that thought go. You’ve been perfectly obedient and only done what you were told. You whimper a bit as Eren stares down at you, kneeling before him. If he asked you to pray only to him, you would do so. His dick hardens again, so easily. “Kiss.” He growls, eyes full of rage and hints of lust for you.

Your lips pucker and smear with precum when you observe his orders. You lick all that your small tongue can reach and swallow the piquant substance down. You’re still no good at giving him head but your burning desire to please him makes up for any lack of skill. Eren focuses on his orgasm but doesn’t let himself lose sight of what he’s planning. Eren pushes himself into your mouth, hot tip brushing your cheeks.

Your idol holds your phone up, turning on the flash and nearly blinding you. He begins recording himself as he rocks his hips into your dedicated mouth, letting himself moan as loud as he wants. “Y/N.” Your sore pussy clenches as he says your name. And just before Eren cums, he says the two words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. “T-thank you, Y/N.” Tears well up in your eyes, proud that you’ve finally been able to do a job for Eren that wasn’t completely thankless. He pulls out of your mouth and strokes himself over your face until he’s shooting warm ropes to paint your features.

“Stick your tongue out.” He gasps, being careful to capture everything happening on camera. He jerks himself off through his orgasm and takes great pleasure in staining your pretty face with his seed. “Never waste a drop of my cum. It’s more precious than gold.” When he runs dry, Eren turns the camera off and opens your inbox.

He tosses you his discarded shirt to clean your face of his juices. “M’ gonna send this to her.” He announces before he just sends it off. You want to question his intentions. Sure, you feel bad for letting him use you to cheat but you assumed that the two of you would just fuck and hide it from her. The idea of sneaking around turns you on a lot. But the idea of being exposed, the fear in being immortalized as a dirty slut isn’t unpleasant. The hesitation within you subsides. You nod and signal for him to send the video to the bitch, the image of her shocked face when she opens the video to see her boyfriend giving you cumshots enough to arouse you all over again.

You seat yourself in his lap, both of you sticking together thanks to being covered in a layer of sex. “Won’t she break up with you?” You don’t mean to sound so clueless but you’re not sure where the sudden spite for his girlfriend came from and you're not sure what good can come from this. Eren seems to have made up his mind though. He presses the send button and waits for her response.

The worried look in your eyes is the only thing that softens him. He looks at you, assures you that you have nothing to worry about. He’s pissed at her for disrespecting him. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, Eren just knows that she’s probably on her knees for the other guy at this very moment. No, he doesn’t feel like he’s out of line. He gives you his eyes and plants a chaste kiss on your cheek. “This is me breaking up with her, baby.”