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Until Our Paths Align Again - Eren x Reader

(one shot)

Pairing: Eren Yeager x F! Reader

Content: canon u!, unestablished relationship, prostitute! reader and costumer! Eren (?) hobo! Eren

CW: NSFW, smut, dub-con (both characters involved are sober, consenting adults. I'm adding it cus alcohol was mentioned and consumed by one party) vaginal fingering, penetration (f), unprotected sex, prostitution, creampie, virginity loss.

word count: 9.2k

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This, this is where he sat. On this wooden bench, the one positioned under him and his awfully dull pants. The bench, tainted just a shade darker than the average working man’s leathered shoe, with the faintest of highlights, which could only serve as an indication of some sort (nature’s sort) that it was not a freshly built bench. It is old, and it is known, just how he likes it.

He noticed others preferend the younger benches, the freshly carved ones, or the ones that regularly had maintenance done to them. But this old thing? remained ignored, old, forgotten, but resilient. Might he declare it a most strong bench, for only the heavens know what it has lived through.

This is where he allowed his thoughts and past nightmares to invade his mind. Though he hasn’t known this place long, It is his. It has been decided. Not that his thoughts or decisions as an Eldian have much impact…

He sighs.

Well, nevermind that. It matters not. Regardless of the damnation that runs through his veins, this is where he’ll be found at all times. The boy has come to notice that he was left completely unbothered even with the sun still out. He likes the isolation, he thinks this bench is just what he needs.

He took the swamp glass bottle, placed it in between his chapped lips and let the cold liquid coat his throat.

A quiet hiss escapes from the surface of his parted lips after the sip. It is strong.

He didn’t know when he would get the opportunity to do it, but he knew there was no turning back once he did. It could be months from now, years too. All that was left to do was wait for the perfect opportunity to contact his old comrades, whomever they might be. Honestly, he isn't quite sure who will accept his request, and who will simply look away and refuse to fight. This worries him from time to time; he cannot help it.

A violent flush of air stores itself in his stomach at all times, seemingly only being agitated and moving throughout his body when he has these kinds of thoughts. It humors him that this exact feeling has been present his entire life, the only difference being it only appeared when he was the happiest. When the lines along his mouth deepened through every laugh, every smile. Only there is no smile this time, and the feeling he seemed to know so well, only appears with thoughts he never thought he’d have. Such a cozy feeling it once was, such a stranger it is now.

The boy has been in this mental facility for about eight hours. He thinks he likes it here. It’s better than his station in Slava, that’s for sure. Though it’s physically better for him and his new comrades, it’s mentally just as uneasy as being out there. He never thought he’d have to see people scream and lose their minds while being stripped of the capability to take action, to help. Had this been Wall Rose, he would’ve already given them some inspirational speech about dying and giving it ‘your all’ for humanity, but he doesn’t think he can do that anymore. He’s tired.

It is deep in the night, around two or three at dawn. He’s only outside because no one knows he’s here. He sneaked out about an hour ago. And since he’s so good at running away and infiltrating places, it was a piece of cake.

He thought he’d be alone all night. He thought eventually the alcohol bottle that lay in his hands would take effect and make his thoughts cloudy and silly. But as he was about to experience the peaceful hours he desired, he heard a few footsteps that made him jump in his seat. His stomach dropped and his eyes widened as he took a peek through the gaps of his hair at who was approaching him.

It was you.

A few hours earlier you ran around the assigned room at the brothel you work in. Gripping and tugging at your hair, worried, for you do not know where your next meal would come from. Money was tight this month, you know it, feel it even as gusts of air travel through your stomach and fog your brain. But you weren’t expecting your madam to keep more than half of what you made last week. You hated doing this, you hated even considering it.

You have to find work outside.

You despise thinking about it. Though your living conditions aren’t the best, you aren’t in harm's way as you would be in the streets. And though it does get unethical from time to time, it is still infinitely better to do it with a regular customer in the safety of your room.

But you have no other options and you’ve gone without proper meals for six days now. Any more and it might affect your work life. You’ve run into a dead-end street and you might as well end up dead if you don’t find a way out.

You’re doing this.

You dress how you usually would, a long skirt that flows over your ankles and a button-down shirt with a sweater on top. You spritz some perfume on your coat and walk out your door. As you walk through the long red hallway that leads you down to the wooden creaky stairs, the hairs of your legs raise prickly against your flowing skirt. You’re nervous, terrified of it going wrong, but you have your reasons.

You walk by the reception and quickly sneak out. You do not want to explain why you’re going out this late at night.

With the first step you’ve taken outside, you feel the nippy air enter your lungs and freeze them from the inside out. That same air somehow ended up making a mess in your stomach as you feel multiple tingles rush to exit your body through your fingertips. Wait, why are you doing this?

To not starve.

To lessen my possibility of getting ill.

To not die halfway through service??

Alright, fine.

Your body feels as heavy as a burden when you try taking that first step. It might be the anxiousness, it may be the cold, you aren’t sure. But, what you are sure of is that you can get this started and over with, even if it means dragging the stubbornness you have for a body.

And you did.

You set your pace and walk mousily through the lonely streets. A few whistles from the wind lifted your arm hairs and rushed a sweat-like feeling down your spine, but other than that, it was dead quiet. No cars around you, no crying children; quiet.

This puts your mind at ease for a bit, until you think about who’ll be your customer. At this rate, you’re better off hoping that the stars pay well. Not only did the lonely streets startle you for the lack of money you were bound to make, but because the exact scenery you have in your eyes is one every lass has nightmares about.

The idea of turning back and living off pieces of bread for the next few days doesn’t sound too bad. But there’s something in you that urges you to keep walking, that wants you to keep searching—maybe you’ll find someone. You don’t know what it is, and you’re not sure if you like it. Maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s fate, but what you do know is that it has never happened before. Never in your life have you felt the need to keep walking towards something that gives you the creeps and has you looking from left to right like a madwoman.

A few more minutes of walking around in the dead of night, feeling sick with the idea that something may happen to you is when you spot him. Your future customer, well, who you think will be your future customer.

Here’s something you learned when the streets were lonely and yours. Once, forever ago when this was an every day—night thing. Prostitution is probably one of the most taboo topics there are in Marley. So you wouldn’t be surprised if you got the police chasing you instead of a customer. And with that, you learned how to approach people and who to approach.

Call it mean, but depressed men with a bottle in hand are usually your target. It is fucked to judge people like that, you know, you have been taught better. But that same fucked mindset has avoided unnecessary conflict between lasses and their customers many times.

Any lesson on ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ doesn’t apply when you could end up behind bars or badly injured if you happen to pick the wrong book. So, when you see a man, alone, sitting on a bench with an appearance that lets you know just how miserable he is, you take the opportunity. You pick your book.

You slowly walked towards him, until you were a few steps next to the bench he sat on. Specifically, on his right side.

He’s got long brown hair that falls by the side of his body and hangs by his shoulder. You couldn’t see his face, or if he was aware of your presence. His body is slouched and he’s wearing some sort of uniform. It’s all white, a bit dirty. There was a bottle in his left hand. It looks as if he was hiding it with his body but you could see the tip of it.

Spot on.

“Pardon me, sir.”

He turns his head and looks up at you, though you couldn’t see most of his face through his hair, you couldn’t miss the blank stare he shot at you.

You’re a bit rusty, it’s been a while.

You take a step back and swallow hard. You were thinking of making it simple, something like, ‘hello, sir, could I offer you a bit of company to-night?’

But his disinterested face, furrowed brows, and eyes that scan your body from head to toe make you think he might not be as desperate as you thought.

“Can I help you?” he says, with an edge of bleakness in his tone

“Is it alright if I have a seat?”

His face twists. Almost as if he didn’t expect you to say that. He looks at the ground beneath him for a few seconds before leaning his weight into his crutch and sliding over to the edge.

You tuck your skirt before you sit. Though it reaches your ankles, you still do it.

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. The only sounds that surrounded you were those of drunkards smashing bottles on the ground and laughing as they stumbled on their feet. You notice a few bottles by the side of the bench.

“How do you fare this dawn, good sir?”

Eren closes his eyes. “Get to the point.”

Your eyes fell on the ground beneath you, you felt hot blood rushing to coat your cheeks, your nape and ears felt itchy from the sudden change in temperature on your face. “Very well.” You chuckle, uncertain how to proceed with the conversation. Perhaps it is time to take your leave.

“I offer companionship.” You halt in your sentence and find yourself scanning his body (as opposed to his face, which you cannot see). You clear your throat, as his behaviour has not changed. “To men—gentlemen. I offer companionship to gentlemen.” You shut your mouth as the words escape your lips. You have said enough.

“I’m aware.” He stares off to the hospital in front of you.

“What?”

He looks at you. “I can’t see anyone else approaching me at this hour.”

“Oh.”

He continues staring at the building in front of you, not muttering a word.

“Well, then…”

Without looking at you, he hums. Through a deep exhale you stand on your feet and take a few steps, leaving him and this arduous exchange behind.

“I never said no.”

“Nor do you appear eager.”

He faces the ground. “How much?”

He’d prefer for his first time to be with somebody else but he knows that won’t happen. Not in this life at least. Why not give it a go? It can be another one of his secrets since he seems to have so many. There’s nothing to lose, he figures.

“Two.”

He keeps his gaze on the ground and deeply exhales. “Where?”

“In a brothel not far from here, sir.”

Through a deep exhale he lifts himself off the bench and walks to where you stand.

You take it as a yes. “Step this way, sir.”

He does not look excited, so why is he doing it? You feel a pang of shame wash over you. Normally you’d have men grab at your wrist and quickly pull you to their desired location, but that seemed to not be the case with him—he strolls beside you, as though you were merely two friends on a quiet promenade through the park. You have noticed how he looks at the stars every so often. Head, visibly filled with untidy thoughts he only wished he could get rid of. Alcohol was not working well, maybe a lass would do? Perhaps this was all the boy needed to organize his head. Quite frankly, he did not care if his thoughts were stormed with fragments of the memories he saw when he was fifteen after he came down from his high, he just needed a few minutes of peace, seconds, even.

“You are not not from here, are you?” You say, breaking the aching silence that seems to have seized your mind.

He does not reply.

You were not born into this world with many possessions; in truth, you have never known abundance. As the years wore on and you cast off the shackles that burdened and bound your younger self—who strived to be free—you realized you still did not have a thing. And amongst the piles of nothingness you seemed to have collected over the years, shame is but one thing you have proudly avoided. You have not many things, you’d be damned if shame was one thing you did have.

All of this time, all of these years of work and you have remained pure in your own head. Perhaps that would not apply in the heads and hearts of other people, but other people’s heads and hearts do not pay you for your service. You cannot feed on the judgement of others, so why would you allow such fruitless opinions to torment you? Furthermore, the way men conduct themselves when granted dominion over your body banishes every trace of shame that could ever form in you. It is quite hard to look inward and see ugliness when the knowledgeable leaders of our society descend into madness, frothing like beasts, behaving not like humans (much more like some lower forms of life), at any chance to use a bonny lass.

Which is why it shocks you to feel as you do with this new customer. It is as though his gaze bathes you with the very dirt beneath your feet, that same loathsome filth which knows only the touch of the lowest part of the human body. It clings to you, tainting your every inch, lacing your very skin. The sensation repulses you.

Why is his lack of enthusiasm weighing your body down? Why does this encounter feel as though you’re the animalistic beast who cannot wait to spread their seed?

You cannot bear it any longer, his silence gnaws at you. You take a deep breath. “Your accent is all wrong, as though you came from elsewhere.”

He looks up at the stars, seemingly never growing tired of them.

But you were, of the silence. “Where might you call home?”

He casts a sidelong glance at you. “Is this part of your service?”

Ouch.

“Well, pardon me. Your silence worries me.”

A breathy chuckle escaped his lips.

“I- do you mock me?”

“No. I just thought about how someone I know would react to you calling me quiet, that’s all.”

“Oh.” You place your hands in the pockets of your skirt. “And how exactly would they?”

“Probably like, ‘Eren? Are you mad?’ I’m not sure, haven’t spoken to him in a while.”

“Eren. Is that what you are called?”

“Yes.”

“It is quite a good name. I like it.”

He looks at you, visibly confused.

“It is pleasant.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the ground through furrowed brows.

As you paced by the thought ground, orange street lights shone his face on one side while keeping the side that faced you, dark. It would be awfully untruthful to say you were not curious about him. How could he be a foreigner, if he resides in Liberio? Well, I suppose the answer is not only abhorrent, but impossible. You must ignore it for this moment.

“Well, hello, Pia,” you say, opening the door to your brothel. Eren looked around, observing the dry decor of the wooden house you’ve brought him in. His breath was stuck in his throat. He couldn’t believe it was happening.

“A new customer, I see,” she yawns. She works the night shifts and so you are not used to seeing her often.

“So it seems,” you say passing by her. Once you reach your chambers you notice something odd. Excitement reached your hands (making them awfully trembly) before your hand itself could reach the handle

Shame, shame, shame.

You look at the ground, and as you do your feet welcome your sight, but so do his. Eren’s leg seemed to shake the slightest bit.

He is nervous as well.

This brings a sense of easiness through you, washing over your body.

You open your door and as you step inside you feel all your body hairs rise and poke at your clothes. You take a deep breath out. “Do make yourself comfortable, sir.” You wipe the palms of your hands down your skirt as you wait for him to pass through your door. You close your eyes along with the door and take a final deep breath.

When you turn back around you see Eren standing by your bed. His hand gripped tighter at his crutch and he blinked several times while looking at the floor.

You take a few steps toward him with your hands behind your back. “Would you like me to do anything specific?” You swiftly allow your gaze to fall on the wooden floor beneath you for one, two seconds before confidently raising your eyes and allowing him to enter your sight once more. Though Eren did not think to meet you halfway, no, he continued his staring contest with the floor, seemingly occupied with a battle which exists only amongst the two hemispheres that surround his brain. You chose to step forward and close the space between you and him.

Once he felt the heat emerging from your body, the soft breaths that lingered closer to him, his eye snapped from the hardwood floor to yours. With the warm lighting your room provides you, you can see how his eye color blends into a jade green, instead of only presenting itself as green. As you analyze his features, you spot some browns, and yellows, and the faintest amounts of blue just by the outside of his iris.

He's beautiful.

With skin as bronzed as a summer evening, and the faintest uneven lines that dare expose his true colors, you were able to conclude he works outside. Something else you observe is how the very top of his forehead seems to be darker than the rest of his face (which only proves you are correct). His under eyes were dark and soft, as if he spent many hours awake, or many of those hours crying, perhaps both. Dark his under eyes might be, but not dark enough to hide the curious green and blue veins that dare peek and expose themselves to your wondrous eyes. The hairs along his eye were thick and curled, the contrast between the intensity of every color presented in his face makes your thoughts freeze. You could admire him for a lifetime—in fact, many lifetimes to come.

The bones of his cheeks were prominent and had the tiniest gray shadow under them. His cheeks were plump and flushed. Further down, you were met with smile lines that creased even with no signs of happiness in his face.

You look him in the eye again. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

With those simple words, his breath was taken away, released deep and heavy into the air between you. He nodded his head.

You raise your hand and touch the slight beard that trails his jaw. His eyes locked on your face, your reaction to him. He does not know you and he doubts he’ll ever see you again after this, but he, for some reason, craves your approval. Seeing your lips parted and eyes filled with lust as you simply run your hands along his prickly face and warm cheeks has his heart stammering with excitement. Though he would never allow his face to show it.

You rest your unoccupied hand on his arm. The rough and damaged material of his suit makes the tough life he’s had during the war known. The more you analyze him, the more pain your heart feels. You don’t know why. You have seen customers in bad situations but nothing made you feel how you do now. Perhaps it is the fact that this man appears to be only a boy, no older than twenty. Which would then mean he is no older than you. Could it be you were two young adults whose lives were not good enough? Could it be you have found someone who might understand? Who else could understand you better than a man enlisted in the army, fighting to honor his and your country in exchange of his body. Who else might understand what it is to force your body to perform excruciating labors for hours (that are only impossible to describe) at the orders of a man ranked higher than you'll ever be?

Shake those foolish thoughts away, not now.

Finally, you allow your eyes to land on his lips. Your lungs fill with air at the sight, your brain with want. Once your eyes were locked on them you could not look away. They were plump and slightly creased with large lines at the center that disappeared into nothingness at the corners. His lips were parted and glossed from his tongue meeting with them every so often, from him panting while attempting to calm his breathing. It might be one of those things that only occurs in the moment, but you cannot recall any time you have ever needed to kiss someone so badly. Goodness, much less a customer.

“May I kiss you?” you whisper.

Which only startled Eren. What a coincidence it was for you to recite his very thoughts the moment he had them. This you do not know, but as you lost yourself staring at his lips, Eren could not help himself but do the same. However, his startelement was quickly overpowered by his unmanageable excitement as he answered, “please.” In a voice that could only show the agony he found himself in. He needed you.

“Alright.” Rapidly, you lean forward and tilt your head as he meets you halfway. Which then causes your lips to meet and become intertwined with one another, now that they no longer are strangers. Within this introduction, a heavy exhale was released from each mouth. You close your eyes shut and bury your hands in his hair.

Goodness, his hair. Your hands slipped right through as his hand met with your waist.

Eren did not know what he was doing as this was his first time, but he knew he needed his hands on you. It was quite impulsive, like a reaction that had been prior programmed into the fine lines that coat his fingertips; only that it felt natural. It is odd and it confuses Eren. And though his lips felt free and passionate with yours, his body was the opposite, he was as stiff as a stuffed animal—the ones only the wealthy seem to afford. Those dried out animals that creepily sit in pieces of furniture, or worse, are the furniture; like carpets. Perhaps you have nothing, and therefore have not yet gained the taste acquired to appreciate those things. But nonetheless, they are a bit freakish, unnatural, like Eren.

You decide to slip your tongue in his mouth, licking his breath away as you pull on his hair (which was as smooth as the finest silk cloth money could buy. You wish you had silks.)

Eren released a moan against your hungry lips as his stiff composure vanished in a matter of seconds. He pulled you harder against him. As if you were a need. As if the simple act of prying you away from his fingers would peel the layer of skin from his bones in the process. As if he needed to feel you as stuck to his body as the sweat that travels on his skin, as his very self. Which evidently so, caught you off guard. With your sudden crash against him, Eren lost his balance and came crashing down with you on the bed. A loud smack was heard from the corner of where you lie, signaling that his crutches had fallen as well.

You release his lips with a heavy breath that fanned against his face and brought him back to life, to reality. “Are you okay?” You simply say. But it was enough to raise his chest under your fingertips and remind you of his desperation to have you.

“Mhm,” Eren groaned as he desperately pulled you in by the back of your neck to meet him halfway. You gasp when you feel his lips on yours again. It was different. He kissed you deeper, he ravished your mouth and forced moans out of you that you were once frightened to fake.

Your hands held him tightly by the collar. Your fingertips dipped and squeezed into his roughed coat and you allowed your instincts, your needs, to pull him in impossibly closer. Your hands trembled throughout every moment Eren accompanied you to-night. And this, having them on a surface for leverage has been the only way you have kept them steadied for longer than ten seconds. You quite like his coat.

His left hand roamed around your body as if they were feathers made to force a laugh out of you. They were light and mysterious. He was a curious boy but a respectful one indeed. He knows he can do as he pleases with you, but he prefers to think about you. What you’d like, what you wouldn’t. He prefers not to rush it, not to rush you. He’s gentle, and desperate. He’s sweet and shy in areas he hasn’t explored yet: your body. But animalistic and lustful for places he knows: your mouth. A yin and yang some would say. The perfect contrast that has your head spinning and throat drying.

As he cups your warm face in his overworked hands, he kisses you passionately, attentively; while his other hand slowly warmed up to your body and now rubbed a sweet and respectful spot he’s claimed: the center of your back, your spine. He softly pressed his middle and ring fingers into the material that shielded his touch from your skin, and felt each bump, each space in between them. Like he was going up and down a hill.

Your heart thumped against your chest with lust and your breaths were shaky with want, with need. You needed him, more of him. With a bold stride running through you, you relax your shaky thighs (which held you away from the contact you wanted), and let your body rest against his lap. Instantly, you felt Eren’s stomach contract and it felt harder against you. You do not know if it’s from the uncomfortable position he’s in, or if it has anything to do with what you’ve done.

To test the waters and collect your answer, you softly drag your hips forward as you licked at his top lip. And when you did, you felt his erection—that had somehow been lost amongst the layers of clothes that covered him—shift in his pants and poke at you in a way that has you gasping from the barely-there contact—from the multiple layers, as ridiculous as it may sound.

Eren, unable to stop the flexing of his hips, held yours in his big hands and dragged you back and forth on his dick. Though he could mainly feel fabric, it was enough. You fogged his head so badly that this was enough of a stimulus. Your warmth was then used by him, as a way to get himself off.

The tip of his clothed cock rubbed on your clit so well, your lips laid frozen above his, letting out ridiculous whines and gasps as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure.

With his hands on your hips, Eren took it upon himself to squeeze the fat that softly layered your bones. He did so as soon as he felt himself get too close, or rather, every time he found himself in that sweet highway he knew too well. This constant fight against an early arrival is something he had never participated in before, before this, he would have never believed he’d be in this situation, much less, while he lay fully clothed, but there’s something about you that pulls him in. That gets him so thrilled he cannot bear it to stop.

But he has to.

Only you do not give him the time to do so, through the rocking of your hips against his, you tug on his jacket’s collar and he complies instantly. Eren peels his back off his bed to sit properly and give you the access to remove as many garments as you want.

Once you took the first clothing item off, his coat, then his shirt did not take long to follow. And there he sat, underneath you with his bare chest heaving up and down in sync with yours. You reach a shaky hand and lay it on his shoulder. His collarbones were prominent and thick, they felt hard and sturdy under your touch, his skin warm. You move that hand towards his nape and pull him in as you reach your other hand to feel his other shoulder blade.

Eren’s hands found their comfort on your hips, right above your ass. He was shy and didn’t want to push his limits. He liked that it was a safe place, not too naughty but he could still feel you. Best of all, he could move you in the way he wanted. He moved your hips back and forth. The tip of his dick, poking you and moving with you.

You notice he wasn’t going to take initiative when it comes to your clothing anytime soon. So, you let go of his lips and slide your shirt over your head. And as you were to reach him with the intention of kissing him again, you noticed his eyes lay somewhere else.

You expected him to look, of course, but not like this. His eyes were captivated by your beauty, by how soft you look, by how your skin blends with the warm light of your room. You were still covered by a brassiere, but it looked as if it'd be hard to impress him once more.

With a deep breath filling your lungs to their fullest capacity, you take your hands behind you and reach for the hooks.

Once you unclasped it, you felt that tight breath you held in earlier, releasing itself with your stress. The pressure points in your shoulders, appearingly disappearing as you relax them, and your chest lowered.

You look at Eren, long and hard. Trying to figure out just what flew across his mind at the moment.

Eren’s mouth opened a bit as his eyes widened the smallest bit. His eyes found yours after staring at your breast for so long. They were dark, you can no longer differentiate the colors that blend into the green of his eyes. His pupils are dilated and they water the slightest bit. His mouth opens and closes like he wants to say something but can’t find the way how. His lips were as red as they’d be on a frosting late night outside. While he tries to form his sentence, you act for him. Taking his breath away, and making his heart jump when you press his hands on your chest.

They were cold at first, a bit harsh too. But as his touch blended into your breasts with a small squeeze, so did them, their temperature, now as warm as you.

Your nipples ache and poke at his heavy palms. He lets out a breathy groan as he squeezed your breasts again. He takes his lips on yours and licks your mouth open. You’re taken aback by the sudden dominance that flew through him, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t terribly attractive.

He fiddles and toys with the sensitive bud of your breasts. His eyes were locked on your face as he pinched them, only to rub them and watch your face melt in pleasure. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your cunt ached and begged to be filled by him. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this way towards a customer and you’d be a lot more freaked out over this, had you not been so blinded by pure lust.

You grind your hips desperately against his. A harsh reminder of what he hasn’t done and of what you needed. Which seems to have worked as his eyes caught yours immediately. He blinks a few times, while sometimes getting distracted by your shameless rubbing on him. Nonetheless, it was a look of permission, consent. A nervous one too. One where his eyebrows raised and eyes spoke the words that wouldn’t dare to leave his trembling lips.

“Yes,” you swallow out with a nod.

He responded to it instantly. Eyes and face brighten up immediately with anxious excitement as he watches you leave yourself off his lap. You take a few steps away from him and let your skirt drop to the scratched, wooden floor.

Eren let his hands support him from behind as he gripped in your bedsheets. He spread his legs a bit, unconsciously and watched you through keen eyes, toy with the band of your panties.

Eren’s leg starts bouncing up and down as he blinks too many times and feels his breath get stuck in his lung-like if he has a bird that had just tried to eat gum when you started slipping it off.

You dragged your panties off until they reached your thighs, and from there you let them drop and smack the floor with a light splash.

You were now completely bare in front of him. Your hands clatched on to your waist as you hid your face away from him. Eren felt his cock, rub against the fabric of his underwear, it twitched, begging to be freed. You were beautiful.

Through a deep exhale, he said, “come here.”

You walk to him, and with each step you take, his head moves upwards as you get closer and grow taller before his eyes. You reach your hand and touch his cheek. Eren’s head, at first, twitched back, evidently surprised by the intimacy. But as your hands warmed with the temperature of his cheeks, so did his composure. It was warm and flushed with hot blood under them. Painting them the faintest blotches of pink. You move that hand from his face to his hair and brush your fingers through each thick strand.

You let go of him and lay on the softest parts of your bed, where your head remained supported by two pillows fluffed with feathers. Your heavy breathing filled the room as you squeezed your thighs shut. You’re not opening them, not yet.

Eren, who sat by the edge of your bed, turned his head to look at you sprawled out on the mattress before him. You looked godlike, magical. Breathtaking, so magical in fact, it desperately made him turn and crawl to where you laid. So magical, when he sat back on his knees to get a better look at you, he fell backward. Your beauty warped his head from all critical thinking to the point he forgot was missing a leg.

Damn it, he thought, as he looked at your ground with pure anger towards himself.

When he fell, you shot up instantly. How foolish could you be to encourage him to take you in a position that he physically could not do. What a silly girl, you thought. Your thoughts were so cloudy by him, you had completely disregarded them. Your head was so cloudy, in fact, you swear you could see the fog, smell it even.

“Hey,” you whisper, too embarrassed to speak any louder.

But it was loud enough to pull him away from his train of thoughts. He looked at you, eyes filled with a feeling you too have felt this night; shame.

You rest your hand on his thigh and maintain eye contact with him. “Don’t worry about it, there are more ways to do it.”

Which wasn’t enough to erase that look from his face. He’s stubborn. You sigh and take his hand in yours. You pull him towards the header of your bed, which he practically crawls to. You sit him down with his back glued to the wooden headset.

He looks at you, intrigued but confused. You maintain eye contact with him when you unbutton and pull his zipper down. Eren felt his excitement rush through his fingertips and remain on his cockhead. You tug his pants down and allow him to raise his hips for you to pull them off. His underwear was the only thing shielding him from you now. You give him a glance to which he nods. And with that extra confirmation, you slowly peel his briefs off. Though the movement was slow, the springing out of his cock wasn’t. And he caught all of it. He couldn’t miss it. He had to see what you looked like when you saw his most intimate part. One he’s shown no one else. He needed that validation and he got it.

As many penises as you have seen, you still got surprised over his. Long and girthy, a few thick veins that meet with his happy trail, and a flushed, curved red tip. Your eyes met his again, through the burning tingles that left their trail known in your face, you still manage to look at him. He switches his gaze from your face to his dick. It was heavy and fell against his abs.

“What do you want?” you manage to breathe out.

Which caught him off guard. He looked down at himself again, almost asking you with his eyes. Which you understood, of course, but you want to take your time with this.

“Use your words.” You look at him in the eyes, oddly enjoying how widened they’ve become.

He looks down at himself again and closes his eyes, he lets his head fall back to the headset and swallows. Adam's apple bobbing as his breathing becomes heavier. “I- I want you to touch me.”

You lay your hands on his chest and with that first touch, his eyes found yours immediately. You know this wasn’t what he meant but it was fun seeing him so flustered. You slowly trail your hands down his abs, which flexed with your touch. And when you hit his pelvis, you took it upon you to tease him a little more. You trailed your hands down his thighs and massaged them. Focusing on every curve of his muscles and completely ignoring how his dick twitched when you sunk your hands deeper within his skin.

“Please.” He managed to swallow out.

“Please what?” You let go of him and tilt your head like a lost puppy.

Eren took a deep breath. “Please,” he took your hands in his and placed them on his dick, “please touch me.”

With a sly smile that you try to hide, you lock your eyes on his face and swipe your thumb across his tip.

He shut his eyes instantly and held back a moan. The sight was already too much. He was so worked up, so deprived. You slide your hand down his shaft and spread his precum all over him. You took that hand and spit on it, you desperately pumped him in your hand, making sure to swirl your thumb over his slit every time your hand came up. Eren couldn’t look at you anymore. One look at your breast or face and he might cum. He opted to keep them closed while his head was against the headboard. You continue pumping him until you look at his body.

His hands were curled into fists and his veins were prominent. His arms were stiff and his abs contracted. It took everything for him to not lose his composure. “Let me hear you.” Was all it took to get that muselet to pop and allow all his whines and moans to explode out of him.

Moans like prayers filled the air from both him and you. You couldn’t help seeing him as worked up like this, even though you remained untouched.

“Fuck-” he took a hold of your wrist and closed his eye through a deep exhale. “Let me—please let me fuck you.”

The tingles that rushed through your cheeks now traveled south—sending shivers all over your body, and in a way, making your body automatically respond to you as you nod your head. You let go of him and take a step back to calm your nerves. And when you notice, Eren was also shifting in his seat, planning to get up, you place your hands on his shoulders and push him against your headboard.

Though it was only one look, you understood. His eyes spoke for him, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.

“I'll do it,” you said as you positioned yourself on top of him. And though you took verbal and physical initiative (or dominance), it still wasn’t enough for him, that look that made his eyebrows crease still wouldn’t leave (goodness, is he stubborn).

You sigh and grab his face in your hands. While allowing your eyes to drift along the outlines of his face, you run your hands on his jawline—boney and thick—until your hands meet with his hair. “It's my service, okay?” you say, but it still did nothing to get that expression off his face.

Christ!

Your eyes met with your brain, or at least it seemed like, as you reached the limit on how much a human could possibly roll their eyes. On impulse, you grab his cock, place it directly under you and slowly relax your thighs until you feel him where you need him most.

With the breath that raised his chest, you rock your hips back and forth and watch his face melt in pleasure as you let his cock slip over your pussy. You did not allow him inside yet, you only rode him from the outside, letting his precum mix with your arousal (which felt exceptional).

And with that, the signs of complaint on his face vanished in a matter of seconds. And within those seconds, Eren’s hands found the dips of your waist and moved you how he desired.

You take his right hand in your grasp, and move it toward your breast, while you lead the remaining one lower and lower until it reaches your cunt. You take a moment, lift yourself off of him, and plop yourself back down on his fingers.

Eren’s head fell on your collar bones once he felt your warmth wrapped around his finger. He wiggled it around a bit, just feeling you out. He hates how he’s constantly on edge, constantly fighting back prematurely cumming but he really can’t help it. He focuses on your face as you use his fingers for your desires. Your eyebrows twisted in pleasure as the rest of your face relaxed when his long finger had nowhere else to reach. He watches you close your eyes through a deep breath and begin to grind and lift your hips only to clash them back down.

Eren was a bit confused about what you did, as he didn’t know why you were doing it, but he knew he liked it. He liked how something as small to him as his fingers could have you moaning so beautifully in front of him. All he knew is that it pleased you and that’s all he needs for now.

You stop your bouncing and position his ring finger next to his middle one and sit down on them in no time. Your body remained held up by his shoulders. And after a few more strokes, you think you’re ready.

You take his dick in your hand and slowly sink on it.

Intense, big, excruciating—you let out a whimper while Eren moans. You felt like you were being split open, though you’ve somewhat prepped. That initial split hurt like hell, though you can only admit it did please you to see his face. His eyebrows knitted together as his eyes were deeply shut. You could feel the hardness of his abs and shoulders.

Then, you bottomed out and as you did so, your ass and his pelvis completely aligned with each other. And finally, after all the work you’ve done, you allow your frail body to fall on Eren. You remained with your head pressed against his shoulder for what felt like ages—your eyes lightly closed as yours and his breathing filled the air. Eren sat completely still, terrified that a single movement of his hips and he’d hurt you. His hand, closest to your thigh, ran small circles on your heated skin. And though he didn’t speak a word, none were needed. His silence and gentle touch were more than enough to calm you down. You knew he wouldn’t dare to push your limits. That same feeling you felt earlier, the one where you felt safe and cared for came back. Leaving a burning ache in your heart as you release gentle sobs against his shoulders, but not for the reason he thinks.

After a while, you lift your hips which make him twitch forward. You lift yourself with his shoulders and let yourself fall back down. Eren looks at you with his mouth ajar, wondrous and loud, loud means escape and fill the room. He shuts his eyes when you dip back down.

“Ah—fuck,” Eren breathed.

You raise your hips and dip back down again, this time, catching his lips with yours.

Eren breathed heavily and pulled you closer by the nape, “mhm,’ he groaned against your parted lips. Asyou lick his mouth open, you continue the rubbing movement. feeling him hit the deepest parts of you, sliding in and out of your drenched walls. You feel him kiss your g-spot every time he slipped in. He was in deep, so, so deep, you couldn't stop twitching forward and crushing your teeth against his. It was an odd feeling, and it stung a bit at first but with time what once felt like you were being stabbed, felt like a warm bath after a long day away from home. It felt like something you needed, though you’ve always had it, just not in this way. It felt as if the most complicated puzzle you own finally got that one piece that puts the image together, that one important piece that helps you see the full picture and motivates you to keep going, to keep trying until you finish the challenge. As you lift yourself and dip back down, your clit rubs against Eren’s pelvis. you raise your hips, and squeeze him in. Eren responds by grabbing your hips and squeezing them through shut eyes. “Fuck,” he moaned.

“You—liked that?” you said, unintentionally squeezing your nails into his shoulders.

Eren threw his head back against the board with a moan. He squeezed on your hips harder. His mouth was ajar, you take the invitation and kiss him again, you bite and pull on his lower lip, continuing to fuck yourself on him. Eren was like no other customer, he was very vocal, shamelessly whined, and moaned the sweetest melodies into your ears.

“You’re so good,” you moan into his ear. Eren reacted by helping you push your body back down on him

“Fuck, Eren…”

“Ah, holy fuck, fuck.”

“You feel so good, Eren, you’re so good.”

Eren squeezed his eyes shut and let his forehead rest on your shoulder, he moved your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Such—such a good boy for me, you’re so good,” you whine.

Eren let a low moan slip on your shoulder, the vibrations coming from his voice, helping you see your finish.

“I—I’m, fuck,” he cried out.

“You’re cumming? Fuck—you’re gonna cum for me?” you say, knowing you’re close yourself.

Eren muzzled his forehead on your collarbone, he kissed the small spot on top of your breasts and below your shoulders. You continue pushing yourself up and down on him, your thighs and abdomen burning. Until you saw it, you felt it, your thighs trembled and your hands squeezed his shoulders as you fuck yourself into cumming.

“Eren, I’m close,” you whisper.

Eren leaves a trail of wet and lazy kisses all over your neck and shoulder. Each cold contact his wet lips had with your skin had you whining louder for him and having that coil you know so well in your stomach, built up, and up and up, until…

“Please—cum,” Eren said in between kisses. He couldn’t hold on anymore, this was torture to him.

But it was all you needed for that coil to explode. Explode and make a mess as big as your pleasure. You were gasping for air, you felt as if you were freefalling from the sky until his moans brought you back down to earth.

He had his eyebrows creased, nails digging half-moons into your skin as he tried to make it through your orgasm since you hadn’t stopped moving, and your pussy milked him as it sporadically pulsed and trapped him into your never-ending warmness.

You grab his face in your hands and join your foreheads together. “You can cum, Eren, it’s okay—you can cum now,” you breathe against his lips.

And that’s all it took for Eren to be the one to let go this time.

He felt every worry, every concern, disappear just like that. He felt like he was free, flying in the sky along with clouds with his arms wide open. After feeling his body get a cramp-like sensation and after letting out broken moans, he cums. He cums hard and thick, in a way he has never before. His balls twitch as he empties himself in you, paints your walls white, and breathes out. He comes back down and lays his forehead in the crook of your neck again. And you do the same.

After a few heavy breaths making the air heavy and hot, you were the one to break the silence. You grab Eren’s hands, which hold onto your back, and pull them away from you. And like breathing air, you do what you always do with a customer. It was automatic, with a bolt (involuntary order), you get up and quickly rush to the bathroom. You pee and try to get as much cum out of you with a damp towel as possible and when you come back to say your goodbyes and collect your payment, you see him asleep in the same position you left him in, his head hanging and his hair sheltering his face from you. Your heart beats, not a regular beat, an extra beat, unexpected and deep. You realize he isn’t like your other customers, you look at his face and remember how different he is. You stand still, with a towel still in hand, hanging by the side of your nude body. You take the moment to breathe in and out. You take it all in, you allow the moment to fully enter you, through your nose, and then your airways, and then your lungs. You allow the experience to marinate itself and make a home for itself in your body, in all that is inside you, in all that it’s yours.

You make your way to the bed, slow and steady. Something in you, telling you to wake him up and send him along the way, but the way his back raises and falls back down, lets you know how peaceful he must feel in this moment. And you’d feel terrible if you took it away from him.

You close your eyes and deeply exhale. You pull your bed covers aside and try to, as carefully as possible, lay him down. The position he fell asleep in must not be good for his back.

After alternating between pulling on his thighs and arms for a bit, he was laid completely flat against your mattress, his head held up by your pillow. You sigh and climb over him to sleep on your side of the mattress.

When you tuck yourself in, you look at him, hair falling beautifully on the pillow but framing his face in a way that makes him look like a drawing, a sculpture even. The blue moonlight reflects her light on his face, it complements and enhances his features as he looks like the most peaceful he has the entire night. You reach over to him and tuck a strand of hair that lay in his face behind his ear. And not long after, you fell asleep with only him and tonight on your mind.

_______________________________________________

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hiii guys, hope you enjoyed this, it’s been in my drafts for a while now. i couldn’t finish it before because i felt as though my writing wasn’t good enough to tell this story, and i’m feeling very much accomplished now that i’ve finished it and managed to properly portray what i had in mind. hope you’re all doing well !!

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