Prone to cutting himself when he shaves. He’s just too impatient and ends up getting nicks all over his face. You feel sorry for him when you see little pieces of bloodied tissues covering his cuts, nearly every morning. You can only watch him suffer for so long, before you offer to help him, and naturally, it becomes routine. He really appreciates the delicacy of your touch. In return he litters your face with kisses, leftover shaving cream smearing on your cheeks.

During movie nights you can almost always expect Eren to put his hands down your pants, at some point. His attention span is horrendous, not even a half hour into the movie and he’s already bored. You’ll be focused on the movie, really getting into the plot, when you suddenly feel him playing with your clit. He simply can’t help it, though. He finds your pussy much more interesting than any movie.

Likes when you call him, “Ren” or “Rennie”. He finds it very endearing, especially since you’re the only one who addresses him as such.

Has absolutely no regard for privacy. You’ll be doing something personal like, putting a tampon in or shaving your legs or plucking your eyebrows, and this bozo will up and come in, paying no mind to your business. You can be mid piss and he’ll just walk up to you and be like, “Yeah, so what are having for dinner? I’m hungry.”

He doesn’t admit it, but he loves being the little spoon when you cuddle. He’ll pretend he hates it, putting up a front, but you know him like the back of your hand. Though, he loves being the big spoon as well!

Loves when you play with his hair. He’ll let you braid it, wash it, style it — whatever you so well please. He just can’t get over how good it feels.

Whenever Eren ends up getting drunk, he’s extremely clingy. Like, it’s embarrassing how clingy he is. Drunk Eren is an absolute attention whore. He will not let you be concerned with anyone but him. He’s even more touchy and bratty and whiny in those instances. If you don’t give him the affection he wants, he may even start crying.

If you don’t eat all your meal, he’ll finish it for you. He’ll even eat your pizza crusts. He doesn’t want that food going to waste!

Thinks it’s funny to burp in your face. He’ll pretend to be leaning in for a kiss and then you suddenly get a whiff of his breakfast. He’s such a child. He will be doubled over laughing, amused by your reaction, and you just give him a hard punch to the shoulder.

Has no social awareness. You’ll be out grocery shopping with him, waiting in line to check out and he’ll borderline yell, “Oh, yeah. Can we have sex when we get home?” And you get all flustered when you see everyone staring and you’re like, “Eren, be quiet. People are staring.” But, he’s like, “So? We don’t know these people.”

Terrible gift giver. Eren will buy you the most useless piece of shit you’ve ever seen, but he thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world. He’s super excited to see you’re reaction when you open it, even though you have no use for it. He gets an ‘A’ for effort, though.

Very loud in bed. At first, he tried to muffle his sounds by biting into your shoulder, or holding it in, till it came out as a groan. He was just insecure, because his moans are super whiny. But after hearing how worked up you get, he let loose.

Sprays his cologne on his sweatshirts, before letting you borrow them. That way, you’re always thinking of him when you wear it.

Takes advantage of your attentiveness when he’s sick. He acts like such a big baby. He’ll make you call off school, just so you can be with him. He’ll tell you the only thing that can help him feel better is your cuddles. He’ll even go so far as to say that sucking him off “is better than any antibiotic”…

Marks you. Eren is insecure and likes to see his claim visible on you. That way everyone knows your his. The same can be said when you mark him up.

As Eren is unpredictable in virtually any given situation, you can certainly expect the same in a sexual setting. One night he’ll degrade the hell out of you, showing you no mercy. The next he’ll shower you with love and praise, worshipping the very ground you walk on. The next he’ll be super playful and fun, making the experience lighthearted.

Steals food from your plate to piss you off. He finds it amusing and gets hard when you start berating him.

Makes you play video games with him, but then clowns you when you suck at them. He won’t let you live it down. He’s the worst.

Gets mad for you. He will speak up if he finds you’re being treated unfairly. He may even get aggressive depending on the situation — acting out and making a scene. You scold him for it after, but in actuality you’re happy he cares so much for you.

Good at texting back. Eren gets bored very easily, so when he sees a notification pop up, you better believe he’ll be eager to respond.

Embarrasses you in front of your family. He’s always super nervous whenever he sees them, so when put on the spot, he blurts out random shit. He’ll end up telling a questionable story about you to all your loved ones, that has your face going hot.

Distracts you when you’re studying together. He can’t sit still for too long, so he’ll end up pestering you and bringing up irrelevant topics to pass time. Even though he has a semester defining final the next day, he will go on and on about how the Mona Lisa has no eyebrows.

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But all you know, in your naivety, is that Zeke is kind.

Zeke is the kind older step-brother that helps you with your college homework from classes he's already taken. The older step-brother that notices when you don't feel well and takes care of you, who will drive to buy you your peculiar cravings even if it’s late at night.

The type of older step-brother that was there to hold you when your body was wracked with sobs because all of your friends turned against you.

You are not even sure why your friends all abandoned you, but it was overwhelming, stinging your pride and ego while trying to gather the pieces of yourself that you gave to them. Your friends have turned their backs on you and he is here to kiss your forehead, tell you “you don’t need them if they’re going to be so mean.” Don’t worry, you have me. Zeke made the sting turn into nothing more than a bad memory.

You are smart enough to know he should hate you, hate everything about you because you represent the worst parts of his life that have gone awry. How his father keeps moving on even after Erens mother. How his father has begged him to stay in his care after years of neglect as a child and how he caved for Grisha’s pitiful looks. But his money makes his life easier as he works on his PhD, so for now he will take it. In the end, Zeke is thankful, because going through university near his father's estate, he has met you.

So he continues to hold you. Falling into the routine of checking in on you to make sure you are okay. Most of the time, you are not. That is when he will come to the rescue. A knight in shining armor that is saving you from the spiral of negativity and loneliness as he strokes your back and promises to make you dinner. Little do you know, that knight holds the bloody sword that caused your despair in the first place.

However, the sword is double-edged. The deeper he drove it, the more it hurt the both of you. He knows now it is just enough to get you to rely on him, no need to cause you pain anymore. But your sobs tug his heart out of his chest. Your questions hurt more. Why did my friends leave? What did I do? When he knows you did nothing, everything was him. Otherwise, how would you two ever bond if not through your sorrow?

Zeke knows it was necessary. It is how to make you pliable, malleable to his touch. Allowing one, two of his claws to sink into your skin.

And you mold into the role so beautifully. Wanted, needed, loved — Zeke makes you feel all of that when everything else feels like a void in your life. University became a thousand times harder when you were deserted, but Zeke helped and made everything so much easier. When you could not gain the will to eat, he would cook and sit with you and tell stories about how much of a little shit his younger brother was. Now, your younger step-brother.

Based on those stories, you are glad that Zeke is a bit separated from the main house. An apartment-type wing of the home that Grisha and Zeke settled upon when they agreed he would stay in his life. With its separate bedrooms and bathrooms and its own kitchenette, it feels like you truly are living in your own apartment with Zeke as a roommate.

Still, he is warm when everything feels cold. So you did not question when his hands ventured lower, when he stayed longer after you finished crying just to hold you, when forehead kisses became commonplace. When he started squeezing your thigh as he held you and you could feel a bulge press into your ass. You still did not ask and neither did he. You never even questioned the mumbled proclaims of love he would utter in between your shoulder blades.

You did not question when he offered another way to be happy either. At this point, the corrosive void your friends left in you sought any way to seek peace while your mother sought new happiness with Zeke's father. His hands, gentle and calculated, simply made you feel good. The lower they got, the less you thought.

He savors it, too. Holding you to his chest while his fingers slips between your folds, closing his eyes and just feeling the slickness coat his fingers and your thighs squirm against his ass. Imagining what your insides would feel like around him if he took you right now instead of feeling his cock straining against his boxer briefs and pressing against your body. You did not stop him, you never did until he finally turned to kiss you and you hesitated.

You know it is wrong. Everything about this is wrong, and he can see the gears turning in your head, sees that he has to stop. So he presses his fingers deeper into you, pushing into your clit, and as you gasp he steals a kiss. It is just as gentle and calculated as his hands were, but now he is a bit rougher as his kisses are softer yet just as demanding. He only pulls away for a second, regretting he even did because the euphoria of having you in his arms and on his lips is pure ecstasy, a feeling he never wants to leave. Addictive.

“Feel good?” It is barely a whisper, not loud enough to break the tension building in your belly.

“Well…” He can see the spaciness behind your eyes, the bliss that he can latch onto to keep you.

“Then it’s okay. If it feels good.”

That is enough to convince you. The comfort you find in his chest and the words that he whispers into your ear help you not fall off the deep end. And in all your naivety, you think Zeke is kind.

Until he isn’t.

It is not your fault this guy was assigned as your partner for a class project. Jean is just a little younger than you and just as flirty as he seems. You can not change that about him but it does not irk Zeke any less.

He is upset; you only know because he is quiet. He still listens but it is eerie the way he looks at you when you talk about the progress you have made on the project, his teeth gritting until his jaw cracks and you go quiet as well. To be fair, he understands. He just does not like it. But he won’t yell like his father did when he was a child, he refuses to be like him. He is keeping you on your toes with his silence as he washes the dishes until you finally try to address it.

“Zeke… why-”

There is no chance to finish your sentence — too quick to process his soapy hand squeezing your cheeks as he kisses you, pushing against the counter and soaking the back of your shirt. He doesn’t let you speak, keeping you in a rough kiss that is more claiming than it is affectionate. All you can do is hold onto his shirt. You feel bad… you do not want to feel bad. When he releases you from the kiss you can only apologize. You don’t know what you are apologizing for.

“I forgive you,” but he keeps you trapped against the counter still, waiting for one more kiss to his lips before he lets you go and continues his chores. You are not sure what happens when he is truly mad, but you are sure you do not want to find out.

So far, he has only used his hands to please you and occasionally grinds against your ass to get off before he leaves to fist his cock in his own bedroom or, if he is especially desperate, the closest bathroom. Zeke has decided to show you how well he can use his mouth besides just kissing you breathless.

Sure, you have stopped crying because of what happened with your friends but that does not stop either of you from still finding this primal comfort in each other. It does not take much to convince you, just a little manipulation of your body and mind until you are laid back on the sheets and he sets on devouring you. Beard rough against your inner thighs and his hands keeping your legs spread for him. Tugs to his hair only make him moan into your cunt and suck around your clit, looking up at your reaction to burn it into his mind.

He cannot help but grind into the bed while he rolls the taste of you on his tongue. This is all he has been waiting for and more, strategically taking little bits of you through the months to keep you chained to him, and it is all worth it. Part of it does not feel like it is enough. Eating you out, fingering you, kissing you, grinding with you — it is not enough to truly claim you. Zeke does not even think spearing you on his cock would be enough, but he has more tools at his disposal to truly mark you as his.

But currently, he is just focused on making you fall apart. Letting you fist the sheets and his hair while he sucks your clit and scissors his fingers into you. Your hole closes around his tongue as he tastes your insides. He has learned how to make you spiral down into a pit of pleasure, how to make you fall apart with the smallest of movements — a flick of his tongue and twist of his fingers. His face is flushed and frantic as he gets you to reach your high. When your hips buck into his face desperately he holds them there until he can taste more of you, more of your cum, and drinking you in wholly.

Even as your juices drip from his beard, there is a feeling that is missing in his chest that you don't truly belong to him yet despite all the strings he has pulled.

However, it is easy to figure out how to fix that. But he has some time to figure out how to do so, so he waits patiently until a few weeks later.

His room smells like smoke and ash most of the time because of cigarettes, you have found some sort of comfort in that lingering scent. It is a part of Zeke that makes him so… enthralling. He is too often a victim of his own cravings — it does not matter if the tobacco and nicotine will kill him one day, it does not matter if he is hurting you in the process of keeping you.

This is one of the moments he takes a break from studying to smoke and to see you sitting out in the kitchenette doing the same. Looking like holy stained glass that makes him thankful he exists when you shine your light on him. So sweet too, good enough to eat. You are shifting in your spot, hand brushing against your face as you graze over a textbook. He stays quiet to observe just for a moment more. Seeing your tanktop dip to expose parts of your chest he has already seen bare and your barely covered thighs squirm underneath the table.

You can feel his gaze too. Digging into your skin until you finally meet his eyes.

He is flipping a pack of cigs against his thigh absentmindedly, “c’mere.”

As always, you listen. Following him to his bedroom while he takes a cig out and lights it, puffing out smoke in your direction.

You almost ask him what he’s doing but you know better already. Heart beating so fast you can hear it in your ears. For what? You are not sure. Anticipation, fear, want, it could be anything and it is all those feelings you do not want to decipher. Instead, you just accept his hug, arm extended behind you to not burn you with the cig as he places kisses down your neck.

“I love you, you know that?”

You only press out a small yeah in response, breath picking up as his other hand slips under your shirt.

“You love me too, yeah?”

He has never asked you a question like that before, always giving words and never expecting any in return. There probably is love for him inside you but you know it is not the exact way he expresses his love for you. But you say yes anyway, feeling him breathe smoke down your neck.

You can see how your answer makes him unwind a bit before he is pulling you to the edge of his bed, letting your legs frame him to sit on him while he continues his smoke. He is just close enough to his bedside to tap the end into the ashtray, watching it fizzle into the ceramic before bringing it back to his lips. You have become used to the smoke lingering in the air and sticking to the walls, to your own clothes as well. Even if it is stuffy, you find yourself more comfortable with its presence than the thought of it never being there at all.

Your hands venture to his chest over some loose university t-shirt that he would never wear in public, and he watches your chest rise and fall as you breathe. He wants to feel wanted and loved just like you… you can give him that just as he gave his love to you, can you not?

He sets his cig down again to put both hands on you — under your shirt until it is thrown somewhere in the room, into the edges of your shorts as your hands do the same. Undeniably, Zeke is attractive. Exercising daily to keep up with his abs and arms. A sweet, blonde happy trail leads to the place you’ve been getting to know over these few months you have been here. Leaving stinging hickeys on your chest while you feel him up until he grows impatient, shifting and pushing you onto the bed while you giggle a bit on impact.

As he takes your shorts and underwear off, you think he is probably going to eat you out again but instead, his eyes have something else behind them, so even as he goes down to kiss your cunt you know he will not stay long. But while he is down there, he makes it his business to let his spit trail down your folds only to be swallowed by your fluttering hole.

His face is barely flushed by the time he pulls away, shimmying his pants off before sitting himself firmly between your legs. Hands trailing through his hair as he kisses your chest a few times before he squeezes your cheeks, he watches your mouth fall open and lets out a glob of spit for you to swallow brainlessly. Zeke loves to see how your eyes fog over when things get heated. How you mindlessly bloom for him and he just holds the pieces of you together until you are ready to function again. His attention is drawn to the last remnants of the cig yet to be smoked and he is reminded how he has yet to truly claim you.

So he takes it between his fingers for one last puff, breathing the smoke into the skin between your breasts, and looks up at you. Slowly bringing the butt of the cig to hover over your skin as you hold your breath.

“You love me…” He doesn’t ask for a yes because he fears a no, so he brings it down anyway to sear into the soft flesh over the place he blew smoke into, his other hand digging his nails into your hip to keep you still. Tears teasing the edges of your eyes while he squishes the rest of the cig into the ashtray. The heat from the mark feels like it travels through your blood to warm your whole body even though you are whimpering from the pain. Stinging your skin amongst a field of hickeys is now a burnt welt, one that will scar.

Just seeing you marked and squirming has his blood rushing to indecent places. He’s convinced you don’t know of your own seduction — soft and helpless, left wanting yet claimed. Zeke has fallen in love with you all over again.

He kisses over the mark but does not say sorry, “this is proof. We love each other.”

Silence once again, but he continues, trapping you in a kiss and with one hand presses his cock into your wet folds. He presses a thumb in between your teeth and lip to make you stop biting your lip because he can taste iron in your mouth.

Zeke is overwhelmed with the feeling of pure giddiness. A childish joy he has yet to truly experience until he is with you. But god it almost hurts with how blissfully plush your cunt feels wrapped around him. You just take every thrust he gives. Hard and almost painful, but his cock is reaching places you forgot existed and making your eyes roll back.

He sees how simply divine you are, how your cunt tries to trap him inside with how tight you are and dried tears stick to your cheeks, how your chest jostles with every rough rock displaying the bittersweet mark he has given to you. Your wetness so thoroughly soaking his thatch of hair that the curls almost hesitate to pull away every time he thrusts. There is a deep blissful feeling building in your stomach every time he pulls out and pushes back in. But instead of leaving you bask in that feeling, Zeke puts a rough thumb over your clit to circle around it.

It is an immediate reaction he almost laughs at — you jolting and your insides clamping down so harshly he stops trying to pull out and in and instead rocks inside you. Covering your mouth with a smokey hand to lessen your cries because god forbid if anyone tries to stop his fun with you.

There is at least a little bit of sense left in you before you cum, slapping his hand away for a moment, “you shouldn’t- fuck- you shouldn’t- not inside.”

But he just covers your mouth again, letting you wail into his hand while your body is wracked with a trembling orgasm. You don’t push him away, if anything you pull him closer because he was never going to listen to you anyways. You knew that.

He kisses the mark on your chest right before sinking in all the way, flooding your cunt with a potent white and panting into your breasts. Letting his hand fall away to kiss you while he stays inside. He has worked so hard to be able to do this, he refuses to leave the tight constraints of your pussy so soon.

“I love you so much,” the look in his eyes is still just as heated as before, face flushed and looking into your eyes. His body is warm over you, the sting of the burn disappeared in the wake of euphoria. His hands brushing over your hairline and shoulders while your bottom half is stuck on his cock and leaking his cum.

It takes all the strength left in you to respond, sealing your fate officially with him just to cling to the love he gives you and bouts of delight.

“I love you too.”

When you meet someone who’s never been fed love they end up consuming every part of you just to taste it.

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