Shady Bagels

Your parents had left for their annual end-of-summer trip to visit your grandparents for a week. It used to be a mandatory family event, but now that your parents had deemed you and your brother old enough, you had more say in whether you tagged along. 

Collin skipped the last two summers, but now that you were eighteen, this was the first year you could stay home. You thought anything must be better than a week spent cooped up in your grandparents’ house, but what you didn’t expect was for Collin’s three best friends to join in, too—for the better half of the week, so far.

It had become a tradition, apparently, as they’d gotten together the last two years. Honestly, you were just impressed your brother was able to pull it off without your parents catching on, considering he was never the one to pick up after himself when you were kids. 

No matter, though; their presence hasn’t bothered you much. The three of them had been your brother’s friends since the sixth grade. Having them around was nothing new. Of course, it was more fun when you were younger—back when you could play Mario Party together and force Collin to sit out. Now, you didn’t have as much in common with them, if anything. 

So, the four boys did their thing, and you did yours. 

Even so, while you were off minding your own business, someone else just couldn’t seem to do the same. He couldn’t prevent his thoughts from wandering and his eyes from lingering longer than they should.

It wasn’t Armin, of course. He wouldn’t dare look at you that way, the girl he tutored in algebra all those years ago. It wasn’t Jean, either, hopelessly consumed by texting his class crush, determined as ever to win her affection.

No, it was Eren. Also known as ‘the cute one’ by you and your friends once he hit a growth spurt and grew out his hair in high school. Though Eren was unaware of the epithet, he’d finally return the sentiment, thinking of you as Collin’s very cute sister. 

It had been a couple of years since he’d last seen you, and you appeared to have… really grown into yourself, to put it delicately. 

Listen, the thought was harmless. It wasn’t as if Eren expected this to happen, and there was no way in hell he’d act on the feeling. You were his best friend’s sister—and not just that, but his little sister.

Eren thought he was playing cool, but man, did you have to make it so tough on him? Did you really need to lie out by your parents’ pool every single day? As a matter of fact, when was the last time it rained? That would help right about now, wouldn’t it?

Back to the point here: Eren was, in fact, not playing remotely cool. Armin brought this to his attention as they went off together to grab another beer. You happened to be in the kitchen too, just to grab a snack, and damn it, why did you have next to nothing on? Like, yeah, the place was a little warm tonight, and it was your house and all, but seriously? Tiny shorts rolled extra high on your waist; a tank top that looked extra clingy as you reached for a plate on the very top shelf? For real?

“You can’t be serious,” Armin grumbled. After you left, obviously. 

Eren should have known what he meant, but he was wholly convinced he’d been treading carefully this past week. “What do you—”

“You can’t bang Collin’s sister!”

Who even says ‘bang’ anymore?

“Whoa, hold on a second.” Eren held up his palms in innocence, waving them as if he could shake the wicked accusation. “That’s taking things a little far, isn’t it?”

Armin shot him a look. He knew better than to take Eren’s word at face value. “Well, it sure looks like you want to bang his sister.”

“Who’s trying to bang whose sister?”

Both Armin and Eren startled. Heads on a swivel, they turned to find Collin emerging from the basement, Jean trailing just behind with a suspicious, low-browed expression. 

“Oh,” Eren stammered. He had to come up with something quick; Armin was a notoriously awful liar. “Armin was just telling me about some porn he watched the other night.” Eren threw in a shrug. “You know, where the guy tries to bang someone’s sister.”

Armin glared at Eren for throwing him under the bus like that. He reluctantly went along with the lie for the sake of keeping the peace. “Yeah, and then he, uh… bangs the sister?”

Idiot.

Whatever. The lie seemed to work well enough. Collin stared back at them like they were no better than a couple of horny morons. Jean dismissed it, too, complaining, “Can we stop saying ‘bang’ now?”

With the crisis only half-averted—Eren would have to deal with Armin more later, he was sure—the four returned to the basement, freshly cracked cans of beer in tow, where they spent the rest of the night playing video games until they eventually passed out. 

Well, three of them did. 

Eren couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t entirely surprising. Tossing and turning on a wobbly air mattress didn’t make sleep come any easier. With the basement only marginally cooler than the rest of the house, he figured a glass of water might help him reset. 

Unluckily (or perhaps luckily?) for Eren, he was interrupted on his way to the kitchen. The sight of you, simply existing, lounged on the couch, spooked him.

“Someone’s jumpy,” you giggled while he cursed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing here?” Eren asked.

“I live here, last time I checked.”

He made a face lacking the amusement your voice carried. “You know what I meant. Why are you still awake?” 

It was the first time you’d been alone together. Not the first ever, but the first time it felt different—since Eren had those thoughts about you. 

“Do I need a reason?” you airily replied, sort of on a yawn, as you stretched your arms. “It’s summer break, and I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

He didn’t offer more than a small nod of acknowledgment before moseying across the room, hands shoved in his pockets. Unsure of where this was going, you reached for the remote to pause your TV show. 

“Whatcha guys doing down there?”

“They’re all asleep,” Eren said. He stood idly because, like you, he found himself curious about what might happen next.

“And you’re not asleep because?”

No, he couldn’t think like that. Nothing would happen next; this was going nowhere. 

“I came to grab some water,” he rushed to say. Or, at least, you thought he sounded rushed. Before you could comment, he disappeared around the corner and into the kitchen. 

You listened for a moment, finger hovering above the pause button as you debated starting your show back up. But when the running faucet flicked off, Eren didn’t return to the basement in the apparent rush he was previously in. Instead, he stayed there, with you. 

Eren sipped his water as he mulled over what he should say. His mind was utterly blank. There was nothing to say, no reason he needed to have a conversation with you—what did you even have in common? And yet, there he was still, leaning up against the wall, dumbly scratching his midriff as he—

Wait. Were you checking him out? 

If there was one thing Eren learned in college—because let’s be real here, he had a nasty habit of skipping lectures—it was that he did pretty well for himself when it came to girls. Decent enough, he’d say. He at least had enough sense to know when a chick was interested in him. 

And now that you creaked that door open, ogled where his hand lifted his shirt and revealed his stomach, he felt he had no choice but to step inside and explore around. Just a bit.

Armin’s warning blared in the back of Eren’s head—after years and years of friendship, his conscience tended to have Armin’s voice—but there wasn’t anything wrong with casual conversation, was there? 

“So, are you excited to leave for college soon?”

There was no turning back now. 

You perked up in your seat. “Yeah, for sure. It’ll be nice to be somewhere new. Meet new people, make new friends—”

“Maybe you’ll finally find your Fabio.”

There was a joke there, unfortunately. One you hadn’t heard in so long that you physically cringed at the memory.

As Collin’s younger sister, his friends were first-hand witnesses to your boy crazy phase and all the dating flops that came along with it. Perhaps they even picked up that you were quite the hopeless romantic. And by that, you meant Jean had found a smutty novel you’d stolen from your mom. Yes, it even had that signature Fabio-esque cover, hence the joke. Anyway, he read the book aloud in front of your brother and the rest of their friends until Armin snatched it from him, which somehow made the whole ordeal even worse.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you offhandedly chuckled, trying to mask the twinge of embarrassment you felt. “I was sort of hoping that would happen before college. But, you know—I’m sure plenty of people go to college inexperienced.

Your voice trailed off there at the end, almost like the notion bothered you more deeply than you wanted to let on. Eren scrutinized what you’d said, and it felt like a conversational game of hot potato. Why were you bringing this up, and what did you want him to do? Were you looking for advice?

Eren set down his glass and moved to join you on the couch, on the far side. “Is that what you’re worried about?” 

“No,” you blurted. You kicked yourself for having said anything in the first place. Your abruptness sounded just as bad, so with a sigh, you confessed, “I mean, I guess. I don’t want people to think I’m a loser for being a virgin.”

Again, why were you telling him this? Eren felt like he was playing with fire, and you had not the slightest clue. He knew the longer he stayed, the more likely he was to end up burned. Maybe even scorching everything around him, even you, in the process. 

Still, he poked at it. He added some kindling because there was a desperate part of him that was unwilling to let the fire snuff out. “I think there’s a fairly simple solution to that.”

“What, getting laid? I think I know that,” you scoffed. “And it’s easy for you to say that, looking like,” lacking the words, you loosely gestured a hand at him, “you. Believe it or not, I don’t exactly have suitors lining up outside my door.”

Okay, so he was right. He was picking up on something between you. You found him attractive, and he found you attractive. The answer was easy enough; he might as well go on and say it outright then.

“What if I did it?” 

You didn’t know what Eren meant. His casualness threw you for a loop. He couldn’t be talking about that, could he? 

“You know,” he said, “took your virginity.”

There was no misunderstanding now—but the crazy thing was, why were you actually considering it? 

Your brother’s friends, Eren included, had taught you all sorts of things before. Things they probably shouldn’t have, but ultimately came with having an older brother around. They told you to flush the toilet to mask your squeaky front door when you snuck out at night. Taught you how to roll a joint, and how to take a proper hit after you confessed you’d never ‘felt high’ when you smoked. So, would this really be any different?

While you considered his proposition, Eren took the far-away look behind your eyes as a horrible sign. He realized how insane he sounded, offering such a thing. Before he could take it back, blame it on the one too many beers, that’s all, you piped up. 

“Really?”

He certainly didn’t expect that. “I—yeah. Why not?”

Another lengthy pause passed before you accused, “Are you just fucking with me? Because it’s not funny.”

“No—no! I wouldn’t.” Eren started rambling, a jumbled mix of ‘I just’ and ‘I shouldn’t have’ until you decidedly cut him off before he could talk himself into a hole.

“Okay.”

“Huh?”

“I said okay. You can… take my virginity.” You felt strange saying it out loud, to Eren, of all people. Who would have guessed?

Then again, maybe this was the most logical outcome. You never wanted to make a big deal of losing your virginity, and you certainly weren’t looking for something romantic, with rose petals or a waterbed or any of that corny-porny crap. You simply viewed your virginity as an obstacle to get past. That way, when you inevitably meet the love of your life in college (okay, so maybe you were a hopeless romantic), you wouldn’t humiliate yourself the first time you hooked up. 

“Okay,” Eren replied on a sharp inhale, a breath sucked through his teeth, like the word was a sin to say aloud. 

He scooted closer, settling on the couch that once separated you. You expected him to kiss you then, and you leaned into him with closed eyes. Your lips barely brushed his before he stalled, not coming any closer than that. 

He asked you, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded, and your noses bumped. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I trust you,” you said, even quieter than him. You could barely hear yourself over the sound of your heart, thumping so hard you swore it might burst into your throat. 

Eren finally kissed you, tentatively, with his hand cradling the side of your face. He didn’t move until you did, and when you returned the kiss, he followed and let you take the lead.

The kiss was cut short when the basement door squeaked open. You jumped away from one another, back to the opposite sides of the couch. The panic quickly subsided when you caught a glimpse of the family cat’s bright eyes, her little head poking out from the shadows.

You clutched a hand to your chest, trying to steady your breath and your racing heart as if both were possible right now. When you met Eren’s gaze again, he was already staring back at you with a brittle look. You couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Did he regret what he’d just done? You didn’t, and you prayed he didn’t either. 

Before you had the chance to ask, he finally said, “Should we go to your bedroom?” 

“Good idea.”

Eren knew where your room was, but he still followed right behind you. At the top of the staircase, just before your bedroom door, you split. You turned to see Eren sneaking into Collin’s room. An anxious minute passed while you listened to rustling, and when he returned, he held that infamous, shiny foil between his two fingers. 

You grimaced, hard. “I’m not going to use one of my brother’s condoms.”

“Do you have one then?” Eren asked, already well aware of your answer.

“Fine.”

Eren had never been in your bedroom before. It felt foreign and, weirdly, wrong to have him there. He looked out of place, too big, too mature, especially compared to all your girlish knick-knacks and old photos. You wished you could have tucked everything away into some lonely drawer. 

You avoided Eren’s eyes and fixed your attention on adjusting the lights. Your bright ceiling light was far too unforgiving for this, so you switched it out for your bedside lamp. The drone of the old bulb buzzed in the back of your ears, its light a fizzy yellow glow. 

You were nervous. Eren didn’t need to see your face to know; he could feel it as you skittered around the room like a cornered mouse. He expected as much, considering this was about to be your first time having sex.

Eren felt his heart drop into his stomach, like that sick feeling you get on a rollercoaster, yet somehow you always want to ride again. Maybe he was just as nervous as you. You had to put your trust in him, enough to take your virginity on a whim. Handing it over to him as if it were some sentimental treasure he could watch over, for safekeeping.

Sure, he knew the optics were bad. Not just bad but downright horrendous, actually. He was about to sleep with his best friend’s little sister. Not just sleep with her, but be the first person to sleep with her, ever, while everyone was asleep downstairs. The situation sounded like a second-rate porno, like the one he had made up with Armin in the kitchen.

This was as much a blessing straight from heaven as it was a curse. But Eren couldn’t bother with optics now. Not after you took a seat on the bed, looking at him with these come-and-get-me eyes that may or may not have been intentional. 

No, this wasn’t a curse at all. If it were so wrong of him, then why did it feel so right? His cock already strained against his sweatpants at the mere thought of how delicate he’d be with you tonight. He needed to be. The last thing he wanted was to ruin your first time. He’d be the first to show you what pleasure could be with another person—what you were truly deserving of before going off and letting other boys touch you. 

He set the condom on the nightstand and sat on the edge of your bed beside you, his knee grazing yours. He was about to ask if he could kiss you again, but you entirely side-skipped any and all conversation, picking right back up from where the two of you had left off. 

Again, Eren relinquished control to you, except he was the one to take the initiative to swipe his tongue into your mouth. You tasted him and the bittersweet flavor of light beer. He was nothing like the last boy you kissed. He didn’t ram his tongue down your throat but kissed you like he wanted to muse over and memorize you. You let him, of course, lips languidly caressing one another with little point or purpose, solely running on instinct. 

You balled his shirt in your first, twisted the fabric between your hands to pull him close. Closer. With hands at your waist, he hoisted you onto his lap, and you went along with him more than willingly. You draped your arms over his shoulders, crossing them at the wrist, and you didn’t let your lips break from his even once. 

Eren smoothed his palms up and down the small of your back until he eventually garnered the courage to venture lower. He pawed at your ass, pulling you down to grind over him. Just once. Just to give you a hint of how achingly hard he was for you. After that, you did it again all on your own. Lightheaded and teeming with desire, the pressure against you, even through layers of clothing, was an addicting relief. You moved against him, again and again, until you were dragging yourself over him, practically about to get off from that alone. 

But Eren didn’t let that happen. Before you could get there, Eren gripped your hips to a halt. His voice was a mumble against your mouth as he asked, “How far have you gone?”

“This,” you professed breathlessly. “This is the farthest I’ve gone.”

Fuck.

He said the word of the night:

“Okay.” 

He breathed it out as if he were talking to himself. The type of sigh you’d give yourself in the mirror when you needed to calm down—which was precisely his goal. 

Eren lifted you with little effort, had you lie back on the pillows before he crawled atop you. He kissed at your jawline, then placed another on the side of your neck. He stayed there, left a few kisses, all lip, all wispy, like he thought he might break you. Gentle or not, still you felt each of them like an electric spark at the base of your spine. 

His fingers trailed over your collarbone before stopping short of your tank top.

“Is it all right if I touch you here,” he asked, punctuating it by toying with the neckline. 

“Yes,” you whispered.

With your confirmation, his hand massaged over your breast, thumb caressing over your nipple through the thin fabric. 

He began kissing you again, his tongue meeting yours while he rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your back arched instinctively, needing more. He listened to your body, learning as he went, and tugged down your top. He lightly pinched your nipple, pulling a whine from you.

“Can I kiss you there,” he murmured, referencing your tits as he gave another squeeze. Before you could answer, he started mouthing at your throat. 

“Mhm,” was all you managed. Your voice was long gone, lost somewhere between the open-mouth kisses he left along the dip between your breasts. 

It tickled a bit when he flicked his tongue over your nipple. Even more when he latched onto it with his lips. Your helpless wiggling beneath him drove him wild, and you hadn’t the slightest idea. He found it sweet how sensitive you were, his mouth being the first to kiss you there and learn the taste of your skin. So soft. And warm, too, heating up the longer he sucked at your tits, anywhere he pleased. 

Eren kept one hand at your waist, palming over your stomach but never risking any lower than that. Though his touch was heated and urgent, he only showed restraint. 

He pulled back to ask, “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

He was strangely calm for asking such a personal question. Face ablaze, you huffed, “Of course I have.”

What did he think? That because you were a virgin, you never thought about sex? Hadn’t even seen porn? Yes, you hadn’t actually done it, but you weren’t exactly heading into the situation blind. 

“Then—” The sight of you slipping out of your sleep shorts interrupted him. You caught the bob of his throat when he swallowed, but you weren’t sure he was trying to hide it. “Show me how you do it.”

Eren sat back on his knees, just shy of sitting between your legs as you rested back against the pillows. You hoped he didn’t notice your jittery fingers as you slid them beneath the band of your underwear. 

You began whining, “This is—”

“It’s not embarrassing,” he interjected, which only made you more nervous. Could he read your mind or something? 

But he was genuine, assuring you even while struggling to maintain eye contact. His attention flitted from your face to between your legs, where your flimsy panties separated you from him. 

“Show me how I can make you come,” he said. 

How on earth could he be so open about this? There wasn’t a shred of hesitation in his voice, not an ounce of shame. You wondered how many people he’d been with, how many times he’d rehearsed before he could speak with such confidence. Enough confidence to have you listening like a loyal puppy and plunging your hand beneath your underwear. 

You had the pads of your fingers pressed against your clit and began rubbing. Slowly at first, but already, that smidgen of relief was enough to pull a gasp from you. You were sensitive, throbbing, and so incredibly turned on that you didn’t shy away from his unabashed staring, eyes blown with pure infatuation. 

Eren rested a hand on your thigh before reaching for your panties. “Can I take these off?”

You stopped only to help him work them down your legs. Shimmying until he had them thrown to the foot of the bed. You were hesitant to spread your legs again, but he did it for you, placing one at either side of him. He took your hand into his and returned it to your pussy, eager for you to continue. So you did just that.

There wasn’t any doubt he could see everything now—how wet you were, how it coated your fingers as the circles you rubbed became tighter. Your head was in the clouds, playing with yourself just as indecently as you would if no one were watching. You couldn’t even bother to stifle the chant of gasps spilling from you. 

“Can you put a finger inside for me?” Eren requested. 

You didn’t think twice. You nodded and pushed your index finger inside before slipping it out again. With each pump, your muscles relaxed, letting you take more than before. 

“Yeah, like that,” he whispered. You heard the ‘fuck’ he cursed under his breath. “How’s that feel?”

Your eyes fluttered shut. “Good.”

“Try a little faster.”

You did, then bit back a whimper. 

“Add another.”

He needed you stretched. He needed you ready for him.

You took your second finger well; you’d done it before. 

“You’re doing so good,” he told you. He leaned in closer than before. “Can I help you now?”

“Please,” you breathed. 

But he didn’t touch you where you’d expected. At least, not at first. He held his fingers before your mouth. 

“Open up.”

You weren’t sure what he was after, but you obeyed, feeling lusty enough that you found yourself trusting him implicitly. He placed his middle and index fingers against your tongue, telling you, “Get them nice and wet for me.”

You sucked on them lightly. Saliva pooled on the back of your tongue as he pressed down. He pulled them from your mouth with a lewd sound and smiled at you. Something about it made your chest swell a bit. 

Eren moved to sit at your side. His presence felt engulfing as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close. The intimacy of it surprised you, but you didn’t have any time for second-guessing before he urged, “Keep going.”

You returned to circling your clit as his hand met yours. He traced a finger through you, and it set every nerve in your body aflame. 

“Can I?”

“Yes,” you said, practically moaned. 

He took his time as he pushed his finger inside you. It was much larger than your own, thicker, reaching deeper than yours had ever gone. Your stomach tightened as your body tried to adjust. 

“That okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was better than okay. “More. Please.”

The laugh Eren gave through his nose was warm. He moved his finger in and out of you, curving it just right to have you squirming in his arms. You understood now why he held you so tightly. He wanted to keep you still so that once he figured out what you liked, he could maintain his pace through your needy bucking. 

Eren had a hand on the back of your head, petting your hair as he asked, “You close?” He’d gone ahead and added a second finger, and you couldn’t answer outside of a rapt hiss. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you panted against him. His body was dizzyingly hot, even through his t-shirt. 

It was becoming quite the task to keep your fingers moving, what with Eren’s hitting a spot you didn’t even know existed before today. It had you—fuck, it had you coming. So hard that you thoughtlessly rode his hand, eyes screwed shut as you fucked yourself on his fingers, prolonging the bliss for however long you could before turning to goo in his arms. 

Your chest heaved, body still twitchy, when he started asking, “Did you—”

“Yes,” you said on a drawn-out exhale.

Eren pecked your forehead. You could still feel the stamp of it as he maneuvered on top. He held himself above you, kissing you full on the mouth. Still hazy, you didn’t move much, letting him make out with you all he wanted until his lips traveled down to the dip behind your ear, then to the delicate crook of your neck. 

He bunched your tank top higher up your chest until you both tore it over your head. With that out of his way, Eren continued kissing lower—even lower than before. His breath tickled over your nipples, leaving you a needy, rutting mess. For what exactly, you didn’t know. Just more. 

“Too much?” Eren asked, looking up at you with his big green eyes.

“No,” you assured, mouth agape, in awe of him. “I like it.”

He pressed his smile against your skin, kissing and licking his way down your sternum.

When he reached your navel, you asked, “What are you—”

“Making sure you’re ready.” He kissed your hipbone.

“It’s really okay,” you said, slightly wary. “We should just get this over with, right?” 

“What if I don’t want to get this over with?” Eren kissed just above your pussy. “What if I want to take my time?”

He wanted you as comfortable, as relaxed, as possible. And since he was already about to fuck his friend’s little sister—with one of his condoms, for fuck’s sake—Eren certainly wasn’t about to go digging for his lube next. Thankfully, there was another, more fun way he could ensure you were wet enough to avoid any unnecessary pain that may arise from him splitting you with his—

Focus.

“I need you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t,” Eren said, a grounding reminder more for himself than for you.

You yelped, almost choked, when he kissed the top of your thigh, then the inner part of it. 

“Can you do that for me?”

“Eren, I—”

“Please.” He licked a broad stripe up the crease of your thigh. A tiny ‘oh’ escaped you. He wanted to taste you already, he was begging for it. “Let me. I want to.”

“You do?” you timidly asked.

“So fucking badly,” he replied, but it sounded more like an admission. A white flag of surrender, like he was letting himself fully indulge in his desires because, yes, he had thought about this before. There was no use in lying about it now.

“O-okay.”

On that, he returned to teasing his way between your legs, kissing from the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs to—

“Wait!”

Eren immediately looked up at you like he’d done something wrong, but his worries were immediately quelled when you asked, “Can you get undressed, too? Like, at least your shirt.”

Eren smirked a little. He sat back to peel off his shirt. “Better?”

You scanned over his toned torso, sun-kissed from a long summer. Definitely better.

“Thanks.”

He leaned over you, his mouth inched from your cunt as he murmured, “It’ll feel good.” He kissed you there, and the sensation jolted through your body like lightning. “Promise.”

Eren parted you with his fingers before licking through you, letting the newfound sensation sink in deep. His tongue was warm, wet, and exceedingly gentle—nothing like his fingers or even your own. You couldn’t begin to describe it, but that might be because with the second lap of his tongue, you began losing any sense of coherency.

You made a few strained sounds, flowery and pathetic, but supported yourself on trembling elbows to watch. When you met Eren’s gaze, he only stopped licking at you to say, “Tell me what feels good.”

“Everything.” The word tumbled out of your mouth desperately. “Everything feels good.”

You felt his laugh as he closed his mouth over you. He continued having his way with you, sucking and licking, saliva and slick making a mess of his pretty face as he staggered kisses between flicks of his tongue.

Whenever his lips brushed against your clit, your legs would flex tight. Eren hooked his arms around them, laying them over his strong shoulders. You felt how his fingers dug into the fat of your thighs, locking them into place while he suctioned his lips around your clit with more pressure than before.

“Ah—oh,” you moaned. Your back left the bed to press your pussy against his face, as if you could possibly have him any closer. 

That would happen once he was finally inside you. But that would come soon enough. 

Eren didn’t ask this time; he knew exactly how he was making you feel. Which you were thankful for because you couldn’t dream of him stopping, not now. You needed more, lacing a hand through his locks and giving tugs of encouragement. He groaned against you, clearly liking it, so you pulled again. 

He was sloppy with it while remaining… thoughtful? That didn’t feel like the right word, but even as he made out with the most intimate part of you, he did so with intention, doing that thing again, whatever it was, with his tongue pointed, because he already learned you liked it. He showed you that you liked it. Loved it, actually, evidenced by the breathless sounds you made. 

And when Eren paired his tongue with his sucking lips, you came with your hand clamped over your mouth. Your entire body gained a pulse of its own. This orgasm was much stronger than your first, and longer-lasting, too. The muscles of your stomach wound tight, then released while you rode out your high, with Eren groaning against you just as pleased. 

Once you were no longer propped on your elbows but flopped against the bed did Eren let up. Your thighs were still shaking as he kissed a pathway back to your side.

You began questioning how you were supposed to go for another round. You hadn’t even reached the main event yet. To be completely honest, you expected Eren to throw you on your bed, pop your metaphorical cherry, and be done with it. But now you’d already come twice, and he still had his sweatpants on. 

You should probably do something about that, shouldn’t you?

“I wanna touch you, too.”

While innocent, it was the most you had communicated with Eren this far, so he wasn’t going to stop you from reaching for him. He was more than ready. 

You explored him a bit over his sweats, tracing over his length and discovering what touches made him twitch, still as chaste as ever.

“Show me,” you purred. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do—a hand job was far from rocket science. You just felt that if you had to show him yours, then you wanted to see his. You wanted to watch. 

Eren tugged his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock sprang out and nearly slapped the low part of his abs. Already, his tip was wetted, needy for anything after going untouched this long, even if it was his own hand. 

He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, working his fist over his cock, faster, until he was jerking himself off for you. His breath, fanning just above your head, went from steady to ragged, his chest tight. 

Already desperate to touch him, you pushed yourself upright, perched with your knees brushed against his thigh. Ready to take him with both hands. 

“Hold on.”

Eren fidgeted as though he was about to say something but decided to hold his tongue. He looked hesitant—sounded even more hesitant when he asked, “Can you,” he sighed, “Can you spit in your hand first?” 

“Oh, um.” You looked down at your open palm and tried your best to collect some saliva in your mouth. It was a little daunting, knowing he was watching as you spat into your hand, but he didn’t seem to mind.

No, he definitely didn’t mind. But he wouldn’t admit that to you right now.

You took him in your hand and mimicked the way he did it: with a loose wrist and your grasp slightly firm. When you squeezed over his tip, you heard the sharp inhale it pulled from him, noting how his pelvis flexed. Eren’s hand closed over yours; he was going to show you exactly how he liked it. 

Eren moved your hand for you, gripping it tighter whenever you reached the head of his cock. His pitched breaths turned into groans, brows hanging low over his keen eyes. He started thrusting, fucking your hand, and nearly forgot where he was—forgot whose hand he was using like his own personal toy. 

“Spit on it,” he grunted, that consciously temperate side of him shaking free of its restraints. 

He didn’t intend to come across so crass, not in front of you, and certainly not this soon. It was just that Eren couldn’t remember the last time he came from a hand job, but he was nearly there, with your hands so dainty and velvety around him. Not to mention the spit dribbling from your pretty lips before you spread it over the length of his cock. He was about to lose his last semblance of composure. 

But he had a much bigger agenda than fucking your hand. 

“That’s—ah, shit.” Selfishly, Eren waited another second before releasing your hand. You continued stroking him eagerly, and it felt wrong to stop you, but he did just that with a hand around your forearm. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep going.”

“Sorry,” you said, hands now politely to yourself and folded in your lap.

With a short huff of a laugh, Eren told you, “You do not have to apologize for that. Believe me.”

His chuckle had you smiling again. That closed-mouth, coy smile that he was quickly learning might become the death of him. He straightened out, taking your chin between his fingers so he could kiss you again.

“Lie back for me,” Eren whispered. 

You fell into the mess of pillows and tangled sheets below you, making yourself comfortable while Eren fetched the condom. You didn’t know what the feeling was—trepidation, anticipation, excitement, perhaps all three—but it bubbled in your stomach as you watched him tear open the wrapper before rolling on the latex. 

Eren pumped himself a few times with his hand as he reminded, “We can stop at any time if you need.”

Eyes wide and fixed on him—specifically on his cock, which he’d soon gape you on—you asked, “Do we need a safe word?”

Eren laughed, but only because you were so agonizingly cute about it. “I think ‘stop’ will work just fine.”

You did that smile again, and it yanked the knot in his stomach tighter than he even thought possible. Eren was so close to snapping—no, that wasn’t the right word for it. More like coming undone. Turning into a puddle of himself. Finishing humiliatingly early. That sort of snapping. He didn’t know what had him feeling this way, but there was something about you that made him feel like the virgin here. 

Eren didn’t dare push inside yet, not only for your sake but for his. His eyes, now brazen and alert, scanned over you in a silent check-in. When you gave him the go-ahead, nothing more than a bobble of your head, slowly, he tilted his hips into yours. 

With you unbelievably tight around him, he stalled with only his tip inside you. Even so, his breath had already hitched in his throat. He couldn’t hold back; he simply couldn’t. When he gave you a little more, between his eyes flitting shut, he caught the scrunch of your nose. 

“How are you doing?” Eren asked. 

There was a stretch, a certain fullness you’d never felt before. It didn’t necessarily hurt, but it didn’t exactly feel like he belonged there, either. 

“I’m—” You glanced down to where your bodies connected. It was considerate of him to take his time with you, to prep you with his fingers and tongue, but it didn’t seem to make much of a difference, and his cock wasn’t even halfway inside of you. Your nails dug deep into his biceps. “Okay.”

It didn’t appear like he believed you, which was a fair assessment as your statement was shaky at best. “Is it too much?”

“A little,” you sheepishly admitted. 

Eren pulled out, and even that made you wince. Your shoulders dropped back to the mattress, every muscle in your body easing up now that he wasn’t bullying inside you.

“Here.” Eren rolled onto his back. He guided you on top of him, set you so your knees straddled his waist, his cock resting between your legs. Somehow, it looked even bigger like this, laid upon his abs. “Let’s try it like this.” 

Like this? It felt incredibly vulnerable from up here, where he could see you in all your glory, bouncy above him. Plus, you hardly knew what you were doing—you’d just given your first hand job! You kind of thought you’d just lie there and take it from him, and now he was expecting you to ride him? The thought was intimidating, to say the least, even if Eren tried to assure you it wasn’t. 

“You have total control this way.”

That was the exact thing you feared. You didn’t want any control. What if you did something wrong? 

Apparently, you didn’t do a great job at masking your worry. Eren took your hips between his hands, thumbing softly and encouragingly against your skin. The entire point of this was to trust him. That was why you were losing your V-card to Eren, someone who wouldn’t make fun of you. That way, when it really mattered, you wouldn’t royally screw up. After getting this far, there was no chance in hell you would end the night a virgin. Well, half-virgin. 

Ready to try again, you drew a deep breath. You lifted yourself to your knees and before you reached for him, like the new sexpert that you were, you spat in your hand and didn’t mind Eren’s gaze this time. You stroked over the condom, mixing your saliva with the lube, then lined his cock up with you.

Carefully, you sat down. He only reached as deep as before, but the pressure was nowhere near what it once was. You rolled your hips, testing different angles to see what worked best and how you could get more of him (hopefully all of him) inside you.

Eren curved a hand around the nape of your neck. “Come here.”

He brought you in for a kiss—more than a kiss. His tongue licked into your mouth the second your lips crashed against his, tasting every one of your contented little hums. 

He snaked a hand between your legs, rubbing his thumb against your clit. Soon enough, your lips could no longer match his fervency, and it was more like you were moaning right into his mouth, sharing each of his breaths until you felt dizzy. Eren melted you from the inside out, softening you up like butter until you were flush against him—as easy as that. You started rocking your hips cautiously. 

“That’s it,” Eren murmured into the corner of your mouth.

With gelatin-like arms, you held yourself up with palms pressed against his chest. Perched only slightly proudly atop him, the tip of his cock hit deeper than anything else had before. The sensation had stolen your breath, and you almost swore you could feel him in your throat. 

Eren admired the adorable ‘o’ your mouth made as you began moving more. As though a switch had flipped, you were suddenly rolling your hips against him—slowly, of course—repeatedly having him hit that delicious spot, greedily chasing after your third orgasm. 

“You’re doing so good, taking me well for—for your first time.”

Shit. Eren nearly forgot he was taking your virginity. 

He hoped you didn’t notice how his voice gave way there at the end, or how his cock jolted when he realized he was the first to have you like this. He was the first to fill you, stretch you, mold you to accommodate him. Only him. 

“Do what feels good for you, baby.”

The pet name escaped him before he could wrangle himself back, but you didn’t seem to catch it—or if you had, at least you didn’t mind. 

No, you were too busy to hear him, more occupied with using his cock to get a feel for what you liked best. And Eren let you, because what else was he supposed to do? Stop you? Fuck, no. He would let you continue forever if you desired it. So long as you continued gifting him with such lovely expressions. The sweet curl of your lip, the knitting of your determined brows as your thighs had surely started burning by now. 

But, man, it was a challenge to stay there and let you have your way with him. You could only keep your pace for a moment or two before needing a break—teasing him, and you didn’t even know it. Though he had to admit, it was endearing to see you all tuckered out from everything that came before this. All Eren wanted to do was dig his heels into your bed, pound away at that tight pussy of yours, and show you just how wonderful he could make you feel.

It was a true test of strength for him, whether he could hold back, because you finally looked like you were enjoying yourself on his cock. You took him with short strokes, a simple tilt of your hips back and forth, once you realized you could grind your clit against his pelvis. 

Eren could tell you were close, from the way you fluttered around him to the moans getting caught in your throat. 

“Just like that. Keep going. Make yourself come for me.”

There was a growl in his voice; just the sound of it pushed you closer to the edge. You shoved a hand between your legs and tossed your head back. As you started to cry out, Eren placed a sticky palm against your mouth. He shushed dotingly, wearing a grin as he cooed, “Can’t let them hear us now, can we?” 

He felt your heady breath as you panted, trying to reach your peak. Once you were entirely spent, hips sputtering, he couldn’t help but beam up at you. Slack-jawed smile and all, he asked,  “Need some help?”

Too overwhelmed, you couldn’t even nod your head. You babbled a bit uselessly.

“Want me to fuck you, just a little? Get you coming on my cock?” 

“Yes, please,” you breathed. When Eren started moving, thrusting into you ever so slightly, you already scratched your nails down his chest. It was no bother to him, though. He only wanted you to do it again. “Oh, god, Eren.”

When you came, you squeezed him so perfectly that he actually thought he might explode. It took his last bit of self-control to fuck you at such a steady and slow pace when, in reality, he wanted to hammer into you. 

Eren felt he was moments away from boiling over. His face burned; he could feel the sweat beading at his hairline from this aching, pent-up desire within him. After fingering you, going down on you—after days spent fantasizing about you, he needed release. 

Even you could see it: the unmistakable flush of his face, now spreading to the base of his neck and spanning his chest. As blissed out as you were, limply collapsed on top of him, you mumbled against his skin, “Eren, I want you to come, too.”

And how could he turn that down? Now that you had come three times, he figured he could finally have his turn. 

“I’m gonna go a bit faster now. You tell me if that’s okay or not.”

Before he could even flinch, you assured him, “It’s okay. I want you to.”

The soft laziness of your voice, the dreaminess seeping through like syrup—it was too much.

Eren took you by the hips first, holding your body pliant for him to thrust into. He started with long drags of his cock, letting the tip kiss your entrance before stuffing himself back inside. Each time he bottomed out, he bit back a vulgar curse he wished he could hiss into your ear. 

Then, his hands flattened against your back, folding you to him with palms seared into your shoulder blades. Tucked into the crook of his neck, heat smothered your face as he fucked up into you. The bed began to squeak, like a mockery of your tiny bleats.

“You all right?” Eren asked, his voice tight. 

You only made an affirmative sound, muffled as you burrowed into him. With your chest warm, like a tingle between your lungs, and your head stuck somewhere in space, you took him in a speechless, almost surreal bliss. How fiercely he needed you, if only for a blip in time, was intoxicating. 

And in that fleeting moment, the forbiddenness, the sin of it all, had vanished. Eren was sure the feeling would rear itself again, the guilt that would later course through him once he inevitably faced what he’d done. But even if it meant betraying one of his best friends, he couldn’t find it within himself to regret a second of it. 

Especially when he realized how fucking good it felt to come inside you. With his arms ironclad around your waist, your entire front smushed against his, he snapped his hips into you. He emptied himself into the condom as a groan tore through his throat, the hum of it vibrating against the shell of your ear and down your spine.

He pulled out of you, faintly cursing as he went. You fell to his side, exhausted, and stared at the ceiling with fuzzy, unfocused vision. The rush of adrenaline was on a steep comedown, and you were already starting to feel it. Sore, but extremely satisfied. 

“You should probably go to the bathroom—to pee and stuff,” Eren said, with that familiar, boyish side already returning in full force.

Pee. Got it.

You only muttered a ‘yeah’ before redressing and tiptoeing off to the bathroom. There, you wiped yourself clean, forced yourself to pee, and gave yourself a good long look in the mirror. 

In a single night, you managed to hit every base. By definition, a home run—and with your brother’s cute friend, at that.

When you returned to your bedroom, you were shocked to find Eren still there. He had one foot in his sweatpants when you opened the door. He gave you a soft smile as you hopped into your bed. 

Then, even more surprisingly, he asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

Eren knew it was dumb to ask. He should leave and go back to the basement immediately unless he wanted to get caught. Still, it felt like the right thing to say.

You giggled. “I think my brother would kill you if he found you in here.”

He laughed along with you, but when it settled, he crawled beneath your sheets anyway.

Though you felt uncertain, he consoled it away with, “Don’t worry. I’ll just hang here ‘til you fall asleep.” You at least deserved that.

Eren turned off the light and let you rest your head against his chest, your arm looped around his waist. You didn’t know where the urge to cuddle came from, and neither did he, but he didn’t question it. It was comfortable, even as he waited for that pang of guilt to smack him across the face.

But it never did. And once he heard your breathing taper into a peaceful drone, he slipped out of your bed and snuck back downstairs. That stupid air mattress felt a lot more comfortable now with that weight off his shoulders. 

Finally, Eren had scratched the itch he couldn’t kick. He just needed to get it out of his system. There was absolutely no way he’d think of you again—not your kittenish little smile, not how you curled against him in your sleep—especially while you were three hours away at school…

Right?

though today was different because right when he was about to go into the room, he watched that very teammate ask you out with flowers and chocolates. he glared, scoffing watching you act all “excited” about candies you hated and flowers that weren’t even your favorite. it took everything in him to stop himself from going in there and breaking his jaw when you kissed his cheek and hugged him with your arms around his neck and his on your waist. how would you feel watching him kiss a girl after reading her love declaration?! it was even worse knowing he would have to play with him later today. the whole team knew he was still obsessed with you, especially this guy since he always teased jean about it so what fuck was he doing asking you out?

he thought about it the entire day. he knew that many guys were interested in you, but he didn’t think somebody would actually be bold enough to do something about their feelings. he had on his gear, ready for the final game of the season. his coach’s words of motivation went in one ear and out the other as he stared down his smug ass teammate. as everyone started to hype themselves up with different handshakes and chants, jean remained quiet, even bumping his shoulder going past him. his final straw was seeing you cheering at the game, just, not for him. you screamed that asshole’s name, your friends alongside you all happy about your possible new relationship and when he winked at you, jean tackled him onto the ice.

he knew he was in a world of trouble now once he got on top of him. he grabbed the collar of his shirt and began punching him, not stopping when the guy managed to get situated and got a few hits in, or when the security rushed over, or when he heard his coach yelling at him from the side. he had slight bruising on his cheek, his lip was bleeding, his knuckles were scratched up when he threw his gloves off, and he was being penalized and cussed out by his coach, but it was worth seeing you stare at him with your mouth gaped open. your more confused than pissed face said, “did you seriously just do that?” and the wink he gave you with the smirk on his lips while his coach spat in his face said, “yeah, and i’d do it a thousand times over.”

he wasn’t shocked when you went home right after the incident. he was hoping to talk to you once the game was over, but it worked out since it gave him time to buy the snacks and sweets you actually liked, flowers that were actually your favorite, and prepare his “i’m sorry, please take me back” speech. he originally wanted to do something crazy to show his never ending love, but it was clear after today he had no time to waste. with a done up basket, pretty flowers, and a speech he recited under his breath on the way to the door, he was ready though when he knocked on your front door and you opened it wearing his spare jersey he thought he lost with nothing visibly under it, arms crossed over your chest and leaning against the door frame with a disapproving look on your face, everything he planned to say left him at that very second. “well?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. “gimme another chance?” he asked, an unsure grin on his pretty, bandaged face. you looked him up and down and just sighed before grabbing him by his shirt collar and dragging him inside the room.

“s-shit baby…you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned, his head thrown back on your pillow, big, veiny hands on your hips as you bounced yourself on his cock with your hands back behind you on his strong thighs. you almost forgot how big and girthy his dick was, the stretch burning you when you first sat down on it after months of nothing and guys that were no match to him. “look so beautiful riding me like that,” he said mostly to himself, staring up at you with lust blown pupils, taking in the blissful expressions you made and the softness of your breast as he massaged them under the jersey.

fuck, it felt amazing, the veins running along his length grazing your walls, the curve ensuring the fat tip hit you right where you needed it, the thickness of it giving you that same delicious burn from before that had your legs about to give out, the ring of white cream you made at the base of his cock dripping down his balls, ass sticking to his pelvis from your mixed, gluey essences. you were getting tired and he could tell you were with how you occasionally didn’t bounce, but instead rocked your hips with your nails digging into his skin and biting down on your bottom lip.

he watched you, wondering when you’d quit being stubborn and admit you need help as he moved his hands all over your body, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist, harshly slapping your ass. he hadn’t had you like this in months, dick inside your tight walls making a mess all over him and whatever surface was beneath you. how long had it been since you fucked somebody? he hadn’t done anything to any woman since you’d broken up, even going as far to tell them that he was still with you. well, it didn’t matter, he could tell from the whimpers and whines that left your lips as your desperately rode him to continue that sensation of his cock bruising your cervix that if anybody fucked you, it wasn’t like this.

it was when your pace significantly slowed down that he sighed and pulled you down to him. your arms immediately wrapped around his neck like you were waiting for him to do this as he propped his feet into the bed sheets. with his hands on your ass, spreading it apart, he started to thrust up into your pussy. you screamed, eyes rolling back as his fat cock dragged in and out of you, balls slapping against you from the fast, rough change in pace. you could tell much he missed you from the way he hugged you close to him while making you cream in his cock. “yes! j-jean—yes, just like that, don’t stop!” you cried out, drool dripping down your chin as he fucked you further through your orgasm, overstimulating your pussy when he reached a hand down to rub harsh circles on your puffy, throbbing clit.

“missed you so much, baby,” jean grunted, the speed of his thrust into your pussy not letting up. “i—i missed you too! missed you so much,” you cried, moving your head from its spot in the crook of your neck to look him in his light brown eyes. your lips soon met his, tongue hastily pushing inside his mouth and swirling along his after such a long time without one another. everything was messy, saliva coating both of your chins, the liquids from your previous orgasms painting the bedsheets and allowing him to better fuck up into you with ease, the thin layer of sweat that covered your bodies sticking the two of you together.

“please, please, please fill me up,” you babbled incoherently, begging when you felt his cock start twitching inside your tight, gummy walls. his thrust became rougher, the broken, but rough and intense rhythm of his mushroom tip hitting everywhere you needed it too taking you to the brink of another orgasm. “imma fill your pretty pussy with my cum…she’s missed me so much, hasn’t she?” “yes! s-so much!” you gasped, eyes in the back of your head and body jerking as you started creaming all over him again. “i’m cumming! ‘m cumming, ‘m cumming, fuckkk!” you practically sobbed, pussy gushing. your walls spasmed around his cock, making him pump your insides with his hot, thick, ropes of cum.

you felt it leak out of your abused hole as he continued to fuck and overstimulating the two of you through your orgasms to the point you were crying and he was biting down on your shoulder with his eyes rolled back. you continued to fill the room with the most filthy noises, the sweet squelching sound from you pussy echoing and the slapping of your skin on his being all that you could hear once he had you seeing stars because he didn’t stop, even when he was about to cry from the overwhelming feeling himself. he was just too scared to lose you again.