✧ jealous: eren gets jealous when you answer a phone call from another guy mid sex.
✧ tags/warnings: bad boy!eren x good girl!reader, fuck buddies, modern au, college au, smut, kinda exhibitionism if you squint?, slightly unedited, if you saw that i posted this weeks ago no you didn't, english is not my first language
✧ from my bad boy!eren collection, but can be read as a one shot.
Eren was about ninety-nine percent sure that he was about to go crazy — on the brink of madness, if you will — but he didn’t know exactly why.
In the blurry haze of the night, he could muster enough consciousness to come up with three solid theories as to why:
First, you looked too good squirming under him.
He hadn’t seen you in a week, which he’d thought he could handle — you weren’t his girlfriend, after all. He could say you were something close to friends. He would call you a friend, if you didn’t fuck each other’s brains out every other day, so he preferred not to label whatever this was.
And still, he couldn’t help behaving like a spoiled child when it came to you. You’d been too busy to see him, tutoring some blond asshole and turning down every invitation of his for a full eight days. He had to watch you walking around campus, laughing next to that guy, when you should’ve been there with him.
It was nonsense, really. You didn’t have to tell him. So he waited patiently, pretending he wasn’t counting the hours until tonight, when you came back to him.
He had planned everything with precision: he kicked out his best friend and roommate, Armin, for the rest of the weekend, he was going to cook some pasta for you and open a bottle of white wine, the kind that made you laugh at every joke of his just enough to get you on his bed by the end of the night. It was embarrassing how much effort he put into it, and how fast he forgot about his plans the second you stepped foot on his apartment. In a matter of minutes, he had you pinned against the mattress like he had been dreaming to do for the past week.
Now that he had you all to himself, he couldn’t stop staring at you.
Right there, naked with him between your legs, cheeks flushed and lips parted, you fought to keep your eyes open while he drove into you like he’d been starved for days. Every thrust was rougher than the last, like he was trying to make up for lost time as though a year had passed.
He paid attention to every shiver that ran through you, every tiny change in your breathing, every soft sound you let slip seemed to pull him deeper, your voice unsteady and warm as you begged him not to stop, the thin layer of sweat covering your naked torso, how your tits bounced every time he thrusted inside you.
Maybe that was it. Maybe it was just the fact that it was summer and he could feel every inch of your warm skin sticking to his, or the way your walls kept tightening around him. Maybe he was too close to the edge and the way you looked right then, more beautiful than he’d ever seen you, was enough to make him feel like he was losing his mind.
But then came his second theory: your phone, discarded on the floor, wouldn’t stop buzzing.
He tried to ignore it, but the low, constant vibration drilled into his brain, threatening to drive him insane.
“Eren…” you whined against his mouth, your fingers tightening slightly where they held onto him.
Eren attempted to distract you with a kiss, lips crashing into yours as his hand gripped your jaw, parting your mouth and slipping his tongue in turning it messy and uncoordinated. You sighed against his lips, pulling away slightly. “Eren…” You repeated, clearly not distracted enough to forget about your phone.
“What is it, princess?” He breathed out, pretending he didn’t hear a thing.
You bit your bottom lip, your hand sliding up into his hair. “It’s been ringing for a while…”
Eren stilled, his forehead resting against yours as his eyes lifted to meet your gaze. “You want to stop?”
His voice was sweet and calm but hanging by a thread.
“No, but… what if it’s an emergency?” you said, one hand leaving him to reach blindly towards your glasses on the nightstand.
Eren nodded and pulled back slowly. He grabbed your phone for you, jaw tight as it buzzed again in his hand, wondering who the hell was calling you so many times on a Friday night that wasn’t him.
He had his answer as soon as he handed you the phone and saw the screen light up — a short name glowing in the dark while you squinted at the sudden brightness.
“Oh, it’s just Colt.” You murmured to yourself, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.
Colt.
That name, right. How could he forget? You’d mentioned it way too many times.
The picture of his face flashed in his mind. Colt, who was about to fail physics and needed your help as soon as possible. Colt, who spent hours and hours with you at the library. Colt, who sent you way too many Instagram reels and made you laugh. Colt, who called you way too many times on a Friday night. Colt, who was so obviously trying to steal you away from him.
Which led to his third and final theory. The reason he felt like he was about to go mad was a mix of the previous ones. It was simple, really — and yet horrifying:
Eren was jealous.
It was dangerous to even think about it, something he wasn’t willing to admit. Why would he feel jealous? He had no right to be. He was supposed to understand how this kind of relationship worked, supposed to know where to draw the line — but it was getting harder every day.
Eren tried to ignore how things had started to blur over the past few months — when you began sleeping over, when he wrapped his arms around you each night, when he let you fall asleep on his chest only to wake up tangled in the sheets together.
And it wasn’t just that, it was everything that came with you. It was the way you’d wander into his kitchen in the morning wearing one of his band t-shirts, your hair a mess, stealing sips of his coffee. It was the way you forgot pieces of clothing in his room, your lip balm on his nightstand, little pieces of you scattered around his life.
It was how you texted him about random things in your day, how you waited for him after class, how you scolded him when he wasn’t studying for his exams.
It was your eyes sparkling when he arrived at your dorm, sneaking in so no one saw him because you were a secret. He knew that if he didn’t know how to draw the line, he should’ve put an end to it a long time ago, but it felt too right, you felt too right. You looked too beautiful in his bed, like you belonged there all along. Now he had to deal with the consequences.
“What does he want?” He asked, trying to sound composed, but it didn’t come that way, not when he was deep inside you just two minutes ago.
“I don’t know.” You said, “But I’ll be quick, I promise.”
Eren groaned softly, laying next to you and burying his face in your neck just as you answered the call.
“Hello?” you said, a little breathless, trying to steady your voice.
The room was quiet now, only the sound of your breathings and the male voice on the other end filling the space. “Hey — sorry if I scared you. How are you?”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, his grip tightening slightly where his hands rested on your hips.
“Oh, hi Colt, don’t worry,” you said quickly. “I’m okay. Is something wrong?”
Like he didn’t care — like he wasn’t listening at all — Eren pressed slow, distracting kisses along your neck, his mouth lingering just enough to make your words falter, to make you shift beneath him. It was almost funny, he had you naked on his bed and still he had to fight for your attention.
“Yeah, kind of,” Colt said, completely oblivious. “I’m stuck on this exercise and was hoping you could help me.”
This fucker, he though.
He couldn’t believe he was interrupted by the lamest excuse. God, if he was riled up before, now he was fuming.
“Uhm, is it quick?” you asked, feeling Eren’s hand slide slowly between your bodies, his fingers drifting down your stomach at an unhurried pace, lingering at your navel before moving lower, tracing lazy, teasing circles over your already sensitive clit.
Like it was second nature, you let him, instinctively parting your thighs for him without noticing. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second. A quiet, unsteady breath left you before you could stop it.
The sound of Colt’s annoying laugh reached Eren’s ears. “Uh, no. It’s kind of a mess,” he said. “I was wondering if you were free to FaceTime like the other day?”
Eren went completely still for half a second.
FaceTime?
His jaw tightened against your shoulder, a quiet breath leaving his nose as something hot and unpleasant twisted in his chest. So this guy got video calls now? Got your time, your attention, your face on his screen just like that?
His hand, which had been moving lazily before, paused — then resumed at an even slower, more deliberate pace, like he suddenly had something to prove.
You sucked in a quiet breath, your fingers tightening in his hair.
“FaceTime?” you repeated, trying to sound normal, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to. Your free hand slid down his arm without thinking, gripping him like you needed help staying focused. You felt his mouth on your throat, dragging his tongue and nibbling your neck tenderly.
“Yeah,” Colt went on, oblivious. “It really helped last time.”
Eren let out a quiet, humorless breath against your skin, his mouth brushing just below your ear. “Are you really gonna make me wait like this?” he murmured, voice low and rough, fully aware the sound of it would carry straight through the phone.
The line went silent.
“Oh— I’m sorry,” Colt stammered. “I didn’t know you were busy.”
You pinched Eren’s bicep in warning, your face burning.
“I’m sorry, Colt. Your test is next Tuesday, right? I think I’m free tomorrow afternoon,” you said, trying to pretend nothing was happening at all, even as Eren’s fingers kept toying with your folds between your thighs, making your breaths grow heavier with every second.
“No, you’re not.” Eren kept talking against your ear, his voice low and edged with amusement as his teeth caught your earlobe just enough to make you flinch.
You back arched against his touch, a shaky breath betraying you as heat rushed to your face. “Or maybe Monday!” You corrected quickly, your grip on him tightened. “Let’s talk later. I’m sorry, again! I have to go,” you rushed out, too flustered to wait for his reply before ending the call.
A pause settled between you.
You locked eyes with Eren and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop.
“You’re an asshole,” you accused, breath still uneven.
A slow, smug smile spread across his face. “Am I the asshole?” he asked, watching you nod without hesitation. He shifted, bracing himself over you, his nose brushing lightly against yours “Or is it the fucking loser calling my girl at night while I’m about to make her cum?”
You scoffed “Mmm… let’s think,” you murmured, tapping a finger against your chin like you were genuinely considering it. “Yeah. Still you. I’m just tutoring him. He needs help.”
He let out a low, bitter laugh. “You’re not that clueless, are you?”
For all your brains, you could be remarkably dumb at times. It was fascinating how you didn’t even notice the line of men queued up for your attention — and still thought they were completely innocent.
Something tugged inside his chest. That image didn’t amuse him at all.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I?” His voice dropped, softer but heavier, leaving a kiss down your jaw. “Because where I’m standing, some dude gets late-night calls, FaceTime sessions, and all your patience. Meanwhile I get told to wait.”
You let go the grip on his wrist, titling your head so he could have better access to your neck. “You were not waiting.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “How come I didn’t get FaceTime calls when you were tutoring me?” He complained. There he was again, acting needy and grumpy over some random guy he didn’t even know.
“Because I knew it wouldn’t be just a tutoring call…” You said, making him raise his head to look at you.
He grabbed your hips, tilting your body slightly against his as he pressed his cock against your heat again, the weight of him grounding you in the moment.
“Is that so?” he murmured, letting the thought linger in his mind. You nodded, fingers digging into his shoulders as your head fell back against the pillows, chest rising and falling faster under his intense gaze. “That would’ve been cute,” he said, voice low and teasing.
“Cute?” you frowned, breath catching as the tip of his hard cock brushed your entrance. He had been too patient.
“Yeah… You, with your cute glasses trying to play teacher until I convince you to take your top off.”
Eren’s eyes flicked down to your breast as he shifted closer, pressing himself fully against you. A smug smile curved his lips as one hand drifted over your tits, fingers teasing, rolling your hard nipples between them. “Your flushed cheeks when I ask you to touch yourself for me.” You gasped and shivered, hips pressing instinctively into him, nails digging into his shoulders as a soft whimper escaped your lips.
“Exactly my point.” You murmured under your breath, making him chuckle.
You dug your fingers on his back as he sank into you, breath catching as his movements found the perfect angle. A low groan left him, vibrating through your chest, and you arched instinctively, lips parting, pulse racing.
He captured your mouth in a messy, hungry kiss, tongue sliding over yours with an urgency that made your head spin. His tongue easily found yours as he began moving inside you, setting a tortuous pace given how close you both were before being interrupted.
“Be a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, serious, and weighted with possession, green eyes dark under the dim light of the room. “Tell me you’re only mine.”
You bit back a moan as warmth pooled low in your stomach, feeling every inch of him filling you to the brim. “I’m only yours,” you whispered, breath shaky, eyes half-lidded.
Eren left another kiss on your lips, this time soft and sweet, his tongue claiming your mouth. You shivered, arching subtly as a low whimper slipped past your lips, your heart clenching in your chest. “That’s my girl.”
Perhaps he was too blind to see that the way he kissed you, the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, spoke to you, was about to blow up on his face any day now while he pretended he wasn’t in love with you. It was only a matter of time.
there really is something so beautiful about this page. dropping the chainsaw to grab Asa and this save her from her decline… the chainsaw being left in the dark via the shade behind him… fujimoto I never doubted you for a second
hiii, how are you? I was thinking for a request, could you write maybe Eren and the reader hearing Armin this time? It could a little bit crack and fluffy 💕 idk if it makes sense lmao
Have a good day 💗
✧ mastermind: hearing armin and annie fucking next door leads to an interesting conversation with your boyfriend.
✧ pairing: bad boy!eren x good girl!reader
✧ this is part 2 of this one shot, but it can be read as a stand alone.
✧ warnings/tags: college au, new relationship, crack, fluff, fluff, fluff, suggestive content, kinda unedited lmao english is not my first language!!
✧ words: 2k
✧ a/note: omg thank uuu for requesting this!!! it was so fun to write, I hope you like it!! This is of course inspired by mastermind by taylor swift btw!! you can request other drabbles or one shots here 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯⋆.
When the clock on the nightstand marked one a.m., you found yourself admiring Eren’s willpower — and maybe resenting it a little. He was still perched on the chair, studying for an exam only two days away. It was almost insulting, really, considering you were stretched out across his bed, wearing nothing but one of his oversized band t-shirts that barely covered your thighs, while his nose remained buried in a psychology textbook.
You began to understand how he had felt on those afternoons when he lingered in your room while you tried to juggle two projects at once, insisting you to join him in bed. He would pace around in low-slung sweatpants, bare-chested like he wasn’t trying to tempt you at all just because he was bored.
You knew you could take your revenge easily — crossing the room, sitting on the edge of his desk, letting the hem of the t-shirt ride up your thighs, fingers curling around the strings of his sweatshirt like you weren’t doing any of it on purpose.
But you liked nights like these, where the silence in the room settled gently, and the only sounds were the soft ruffle of the wind outside, the quiet turn of pages, the moments when he suddenly asked about something he didn’t understand or when you shared a joke. So, just for tonight, you decided not to tempt the devil. At least for now.
You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose, yawning. This time, the silence wasn’t interrupted by your boyfriend’s voice, but by a loud thud against the wall.
“What was that?” Eren asked without taking his eyes off the book, barely paying attention. You didn’t, either.
“I think it came from Armin’s room,” you murmured, hearing him hum in response.
A few more seconds of silence passed. You were only two pages away from finishing the chapter, ready to go to sleep and drag Eren to bed with you if necessary, when your thoughts were cut off by two loud bangs against the wall, this time definitely from Armin’s room.
Raising your head to look at him, you found his eyes already on you. He frowned, opening his mouth to say something, but the sound kept going.
“What’s hap—” you tried to say, cutting yourself off as strange sounds carried through the room next door.
Eren’s confused expression vanished, replaced by wide eyes and a mouth opening to yell something. Before you could think twice, you launched yourself from the bed into his lap, your hand flying up to cover his mouth.
“Oh my god…” you whispered, pressing closer against Eren as you tried to keep him quiet. “Are they…?”
He caught your wrist, gently pulling your hand away. “They’re fucking,” he whispered back, his arm wrapping instinctively around your waist.
“You think so?” you laughed, covering your mouth. “I didn’t even know Annie was here.”
“I mean…” he whispered, letting the room fall into silence as the two of you tried to hear more. This time, the sounds were… less subtle. Not loud enough to make out actual words, but enough to make you snort softly against his shoulder and have to bury your face into his hoodie to keep from laughing, he quietly shook with silent laughter. They were unmistakably moans.
“Oh my god,” you whispered again, trying to laugh quietly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “This must be payback, right? For the other night.”
Right — the other night. The thought alone betrayed him, pulling him back as the memory flashed behind his eyes. The way he’d pinned you into the mattress, your body arching helplessly beneath him, the way you’d been forced to swallow every sound with him between your legs, fully aware Armin was just next door. A quiet, dark chuckle slipped from his throat. It was funny to consider, but no, Armin would never. “I doubt it,” he said. “I bet they think we’re asleep.”
“You’re right,” you nodded. “We shouldn’t be hearing this.”
And yet, you didn’t move. Your arms stayed looped around him as you stared at the wall dividing Eren’s room from Armin’s, which kept bumping faintly. Neither of you couldn’t complain too much about it, you knew that you had been way louder than them.
“Are we perverts for this?” you whispered.
“Yes, definitely,” Eren answered without hesitation, pausing for a moment as the sounds continued. “Who do you think’s in charge?” he murmured softly into your ear, making a quiet laugh slip out of you.
“Eren…” you scolded, though your lips twitched with a smile.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it.”
You snorted “No, actually. I wasn’t thinking of it.”
“I think it’s Annie,” he murmured, a faint smirk in his voice.
“You sure?”
He nodded confidently. “Yeah. Doesn’t she have that kind of aura? Like she ties him to the bed or something.”
You scrunched your nose, though your lips were already twitching. “Well, maybe… but what if Armin acts all sweet and harmless, and he’s actually a dom daddy?”
Eren closed his eyes shut for a moment, leaning back into the chair, disgusted at the thought. “Please don’t ever put that word in the same sentence as Armin again.”
You leaned in anyway, closer, your nose brushing his, your breath warm against his lips. “What word?” you whispered, dragging it out slowly. “Daddy?”
His hands tightened on your waist automatically “Don’t start.” He warned.
“Shut up, you started.” You poked his stomach, making him shift under you. Then, you spoke softer. “Besides… we shouldn’t be talking like this.” You glanced at the wall like it might tell on you. “What if they talk about us the way we’re talking about them?”
“They’re not talking about us like that.” He stated.
“How are you so sure, huh?”
“Because It’s too obvious who’s in charge,” he said, a small smile pulling at his lips, leaning just a little closer.
“What?” You gasped, nudging his arm.
“Baby…” he murmured, far too smug for his own good.
“Is that really what you think?” you asked. “That you control me?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Is that a trick question?”
“You’re an asshole.” You said in disbelief.
Eren couldn’t help but smile, biting back a laugh“C’mon, baby. I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his hands sliding gently to your thighs, guiding one of your legs around his waist until you were straddling him. You frowned slightly. “Don’t you like it when I tell you what to do?”
“No.” You deadpanned, pretending you weren’t noticing the way his hands were sneaking under your —his— t-shirt.
He leaned closer, voice dropping. “You seemed to like it yesterday at your place.”
“You’re wrong, you know?” you shot back, ignoring him. “You might think you have control, but I’m actually a master of mind games. I can get you to do whatever I want.”
“Is that so?” he said, a slow smirk spreading across his face.
“Yes, of course. I bat my eyelashes a little, and I already have you doing whatever I want,” you hummed. “Not only in bed, either — I mean everything.”
“Like what, exactly?”
You paused for a second, searching for an example, but the easiest one was right in front of you.
“Well, simple,” you said. “You think you suddenly fell in love with me? You’re wrong. I planned all of it.”
Eren held your gaze for a moment before he burst into laughter, unable to contain the sound as it filled the room.
“What are you laughing about?” you asked, almost offended.
“At you, of course,” he said. “I made you fall in love with me, too. You’re not that special.”
You shook your head, a crooked smile tugging at your lips. “No, it’s not the same. You don’t understand.” You cupped his face with both hands, pulling him closer until your noses nearly touched. “You think you made me fall in love with you because you’re cocky and irresistible, but I planted the seeds. I put it into work, for months. I wanted you long before you wanted me and then I made you believe you fell in love with me out of nowhere.”
You weren’t entirely sure why you were confessing this. It was one of your deepest secrets, yet somehow, you knew he was the only person you could ever admit it to.
You were not wrong. Somehow, your words made his heart swell.
“And are you telling me you just go around making guys fall in love with you the same way you did with me?” he dared to ask.
“I never said that.” You laughed, ignoring another loud thud against the wall. “I do it to make friends. Look at Sasha — she’s funnier and cooler than me. Do you think she would’ve been my friend on her own? Of course not. I had to pull some strings, get her to talk to me somehow. I was too shy.”
Eren frowned, clearly unconvinced. “So, following that logic, I would’ve never fallen in love with you if you hadn’t planned on it?”
You hummed, confident. “Mhm. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. I’m a professional.”
Eren sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off the chair with him. “No, you’re not,” he said, carrying you to his bed, laying you down and hovering over you. “You might think you’re this super-smart person and yeah, you are — but you’re also incredibly dense.”
“Eren Jaeger—” you threatened, your head hitting the pillows.
“You’re actually dumb if you think Sasha wouldn’t have been your friend by her own choice.” He said, settling between your legs. “And you’re stupid if you think I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you in every possible circumstance.”
You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “Stop insulting me…”
He leaned in to kiss you softly, making your heart flutter. “Stop talking nonsense.” He murmured against your lips.
“It’s not nonsense.” You insisted “I’m telling you, I can’t reveal my methods, but I’m trusting you enough to confess to you my mechanism.”
Eren snorted. “What is your mechanism, exactly? Being a pretty girl who knows how to bat her lashes?”
“I scheme.” You insisted “I plan, I’m very smart.”
His hand slid up to your neck, tilting your head until you had no choice but to meet his eyes. A quiet smile flickered across his lips before he kissed you again — deeper this time. His tongue brushed against your lips only for a second before he pulled back, just enough to make your breath hitch.
His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you with him as you both sank onto the bed, settling into each other “You’re… very cute.” He murmured against your mouth just for you to hear “And yeah, really smart — but pretty and kind, too.”
He pressed another slow kiss to your lips.
“A little grumpy sometimes,” he added, barely holding back a smile, “but also really funny… and really sweet… and really, really, really hot.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?” you whispered, warmth creeping into your cheeks.
“Shut up,” he smiled, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly. “You are all those things. That’s why I fell in love with you.”
You trace your fingers across his jaw, pulling him into another kiss. “You’re so whipped, it’s embarrassing.”
“Idiot.” He murmured before crashing his lips into yours.
Maybe he was right — maybe you didn’t need to spend all those nights thinking of ways to bump into him on campus, or plotting little schemes to make him jealous. Maybe he would’ve fallen for you anyway. Still, a part of you couldn’t help but believe it had all been your doing, especially when his hands slid under your t-shirt as he deepened the kiss, tugging it over your head and tossing it somewhere across the floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.
✧ kissing eren to convince him to shave his beard.
✧ bad boy!eren x good girl!reader, new relationship, modern au, college au if you squint, suggestive language, suggestive content, a bit of dry humping?, fluff, lots of making out, slightly unedited, english is not my first language
You weren’t used to being away from Eren for too long. The apartment he shared with Armin was only ten minutes away from your dorm with Sasha, you bumped into him on campus constantly and he insisted on seeing you almost every day of the week. When you weren’t sleeping on his bed, he was sleeping on yours.
Maybe you indulged him too much, but it was too late to back down now. You had fallen into this routine long before becoming a couple—back when neither of you had the guts to confess to the other. Maybe you weren’t officially a couple then, but your purple toothbrush sat on the counter of his bathroom like you were.
You wondered if any of your friends would believe you if you were to describe the exact expression Eren made when you told him you’d be gone for three days visiting your parents. Yes, Eren, who rode bikes and wore leather jackets and combat boots, with a piercing on his eyebrow—sulking over the idea of spending a single weekend without you like a baby.
(It wouldn’t take you much to convince them, really. It was no secret he was down bad.)
Now that you were back, he requested your presence in his room the second you stepped foot on campus again. More specifically, on his bed, on top of him.
To be honest, three days wasn’t that long, but it was more than enough time for your boyfriend to lose his mind waiting for you. And you couldn’t lie, you missed him, too.
When you arrived at his place, he didn’t waste any time, pulling you onto his lap and showering you in kisses.
He gripped your thighs tightly, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you impossibly close, as if you might vanish if he didn’t hold on hard enough.
“I missed you so much,” Eren muttered against your neck, his voice low and rough, leaving wet kisses at the center of your throat. He took his time, mouth lingering as if he couldn’t get enough, kissing every inch of skin he could reach while his hands squeezed your ass on his palms, pulling you flush against him.
“How much?” you asked, drawing your legs tighter around him as he roamed his hands all over your body, holding you firmly in place.
“So, so, so, so much,” he answered, breath warm on your skin. “Too much, actually. I had dreams of you—hallucinations, even.”
You giggled, feeling the faint tickle of his new beard brushing against your neck. “Weren’t you just high?”
Eren shook his head, clearly offended. “I wasn’t high. I was actually having withdrawals from you.” You snorted at that. “Didn’t you miss me, too?” he asked, stealing a kiss from your lips, then another from your cheek, trailing back down to your neck.
“Of course I missed you. I missed you too much,” you said, fingers threading through his long hair. His lips traced along your collarbones before drifting lower, leaving warm, lingering kisses against the gentle swell of your breasts.
“What I didn’t miss, though…” You cupped his face, forcing him to look up at you, “…is that beard. Weren’t you supposed to get rid of it?”
“What?” He looked at you with puppy eyes, confused. “Are you telling me you don’t like it?”
You tried to look serious. “I’m telling you that you look homeless.”
Your boyfriend parted his lips in surprise, pinching your waist. “You don't mean that.”
Now you couldn’t help but laugh, shifting on top of him. “It’s not only the beard, you’ve got a little mustache, too.” You scrunched your nose.
Eren looked at you in utter disbelief. This must be what betrayal felt like. Right in front of him was his girlfriend of barely three months—the girl of his dreams, the love of his life, his future wife (according to him)—telling him she didn’t like the beard he had spent a record-breaking four days growing out while she was gone.
“C’mon, you like Jean’s beard,” he argued, as if that had anything to do with this.
“I never said I liked Jean’s beard,” you snorted. “I said it looked good on him.”
He let go of you, collapsing back onto the mattress with a huff. “So it doesn’t look good on me, then.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning into him on the bed and pressing your chest against his. “It’s not that…”
“Mmm, I already understood,” he said, pointedly ignoring you. He laced his hands behind his head, refusing to touch you even as you were practically draped over him. “You like Jean more than me. I get it.”
“Never said that either,” you laughed, shifting just enough to make it harder for him to keep pretending you weren’t there.
“You’re free to go after him if you want,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the ceiling, jaw tight. “If you can get him to stop pining over Mikasa first, that is.”
You traced your fingers on the curve of his neck, rocking slightly on his lap until his attention snapped fully back to you. His eyes locked onto yours.
“I like your beard,” you said, wide-eyed, playing innocent.
“I don’t believe you anymore,” he said, trying to stay firm, but it was difficult when you were on top of him, wearing a tight buttoned shirt and a black skirt that barely covered your thighs as you straddled him.
“I’m not lying. I like it more than Jean’s,” you insisted, leaving a kiss along his jaw, dangerously close to his new facial hair.
“Mhm…” he hummed, feigning disinterest.
“I could dig it,” you went on, your fingers tracing circles on his chest. “It can be hot, I think.”
“Yeah, right.”
“But it tickles when we kiss… And you know I have such sensitive skin.” you said, stealing another kiss from his lips.
Eren rolled his eyes before giving in and melting into the kiss. You felt his hands slide slowly up your thighs, brushing over the hem of your skirt and stopping the curve of your ass, his thumbs pressed onto your hips.
“You’re so full of shit,” he murmured against your mouth.
You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not, it’s true,” you defended yourself. “But I also really like your pretty-boy face when you shave.”
“Pretty boy face, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, doubting you for a moment.
As much as he tried to play rough, Eren was undeniably a pretty boy, he had soft features, big eyes, pouty lips. It was no wonder, he looked just like his mother in those photographs he’d shown you the first time you visited his home.
“Of course.” You said, leaning in to press yet another kiss on his lips, this time with more intent, opening your mouth to tease him with your tongue. “My pretty boy.”
“You’re playing dirty.” He accused you, grabbing you by the back of your neck.
“Can’t I kiss my boyfriend into convincing him to shave his beard?” you joked, though it didn’t seem to amuse him much.
“You’re being mean,” he murmured, and that was enough to make you laugh.
“Oh my god, baby…” You tried to say, but he interrupted you.
“Forget it.”
“Eren…” you whined, clinging to his neck to make you look at him. “My love.”
He rolled his eyes, not answering. “My baby.” You kept insisting. “My pretty boy.”
“Stop already.”
“You look like your dad.” You said suddenly, making him finally look at you.
“You’re lying.” He breathed out.
You covered your mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “I’m sorry…”
“Stop laughing…” Eren complained, frowning as he flipped you onto the bed and pinned you to the mattress. It only made you laugh harder. “I absolutely do not look like my dad.”
“He has the same little mustache as you,” you giggled, reaching up to touch his face—but he clearly didn’t appreciate the comparison. It was so easy to rile him up.
“You’re the worst,” he hissed, catching your wrists and pressing them above your head.
“I know everyone says you look like your mom, but you’re very much giving Doctor Jaeger right now.” You knew you were in no position to tease him when you were under him like this, but you couldn’t resist, you never did.
He stared down at you, trying to decide what to do with you.
“Don’t push your luck,” he warned, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was losing the battle.
“Or what?” You asked, tilting your head against the mattress.
Those were the exact words you needed to say to send him over the edge. Then, he kissed you hard, still pretending to be annoyed at you, claiming your mouth and stealing the laugh from your lips. You felt his hard abdomen pressing you down, daring you to keep teasing him. You kissed him back, opening your legs to let him settle between your thighs as you arched into him. That seemed to break him fast.
“You’re impossible,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours, grip still firm on your wrists.
“You’re worse.” You whispered.
Eren came back to your lips, kissing you deeper this time, his tongue slipping past your swollen lips and easily finding yours. His hands slid up your body, pulling you against him, palms pressing over your breasts through your shirt as his kiss turned needier, already losing control.
“Let me fuck you in this skirt.” He slurred between sloppy kisses, making you laugh.
“Only if you shave that beard,” you whispered, lips brushing as you let one of his hands slide beneath your skirt, knuckles grazing your inner thighs and thin fabric of your underwear. “The mustache has to go, too.”
Eren pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark. “Really?” He scoffed quietly. You nodded several times, biting your bottom lip. “Alright, deal. But you better sit on my face when I do.”
You wanted to laugh at him, but he was quick to shut you up with another kiss, easily pushing your panties to the side and making you forget about his silly mustache.
✧ kissing eren to convince him to shave his beard.
✧ bad boy!eren x good girl!reader, new relationship, modern au, college au if you squint, suggestive language, suggestive content, a bit of dry humping?, fluff, lots of making out, slightly unedited, english is not my first language
You weren’t used to being away from Eren for too long. The apartment he shared with Armin was only ten minutes away from your dorm with Sasha, you bumped into him on campus constantly and he insisted on seeing you almost every day of the week. When you weren’t sleeping on his bed, he was sleeping on yours.
Maybe you indulged him too much, but it was too late to back down now. You had fallen into this routine long before becoming a couple—back when neither of you had the guts to confess to the other. Maybe you weren’t officially a couple then, but your purple toothbrush sat on the counter of his bathroom like you were.
You wondered if any of your friends would believe you if you were to describe the exact expression Eren made when you told him you’d be gone for three days visiting your parents. Yes, Eren, who rode bikes and wore leather jackets and combat boots, with a piercing on his eyebrow—sulking over the idea of spending a single weekend without you like a baby.
(It wouldn’t take you much to convince them, really. It was no secret he was down bad.)
Now that you were back, he requested your presence in his room the second you stepped foot on campus again. More specifically, on his bed, on top of him.
To be honest, three days wasn’t that long, but it was more than enough time for your boyfriend to lose his mind waiting for you. And you couldn’t lie, you missed him, too.
When you arrived at his place, he didn’t waste any time, pulling you onto his lap and showering you in kisses.
He gripped your thighs tightly, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you impossibly close, as if you might vanish if he didn’t hold on hard enough.
“I missed you so much,” Eren muttered against your neck, his voice low and rough, leaving wet kisses at the center of your throat. He took his time, mouth lingering as if he couldn’t get enough, kissing every inch of skin he could reach while his hands squeezed your ass on his palms, pulling you flush against him.
“How much?” you asked, drawing your legs tighter around him as he roamed his hands all over your body, holding you firmly in place.
“So, so, so, so much,” he answered, breath warm on your skin. “Too much, actually. I had dreams of you—hallucinations, even.”
You giggled, feeling the faint tickle of his new beard brushing against your neck. “Weren’t you just high?”
Eren shook his head, clearly offended. “I wasn’t high. I was actually having withdrawals from you.” You snorted at that. “Didn’t you miss me, too?” he asked, stealing a kiss from your lips, then another from your cheek, trailing back down to your neck.
“Of course I missed you. I missed you too much,” you said, fingers threading through his long hair. His lips traced along your collarbones before drifting lower, leaving warm, lingering kisses against the gentle swell of your breasts.
“What I didn’t miss, though…” You cupped his face, forcing him to look up at you, “…is that beard. Weren’t you supposed to get rid of it?”
“What?” He looked at you with puppy eyes, confused. “Are you telling me you don’t like it?”
You tried to look serious. “I’m telling you that you look homeless.”
Your boyfriend parted his lips in surprise, pinching your waist. “You don't mean that.”
Now you couldn’t help but laugh, shifting on top of him. “It’s not only the beard, you’ve got a little mustache, too.” You scrunched your nose.
Eren looked at you in utter disbelief. This must be what betrayal felt like. Right in front of him was his girlfriend of barely three months—the girl of his dreams, the love of his life, his future wife (according to him)—telling him she didn’t like the beard he had spent a record-breaking four days growing out while she was gone.
“C’mon, you like Jean’s beard,” he argued, as if that had anything to do with this.
“I never said I liked Jean’s beard,” you snorted. “I said it looked good on him.”
He let go of you, collapsing back onto the mattress with a huff. “So it doesn’t look good on me, then.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning into him on the bed and pressing your chest against his. “It’s not that…”
“Mmm, I already understood,” he said, pointedly ignoring you. He laced his hands behind his head, refusing to touch you even as you were practically draped over him. “You like Jean more than me. I get it.”
“Never said that either,” you laughed, shifting just enough to make it harder for him to keep pretending you weren’t there.
“You’re free to go after him if you want,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the ceiling, jaw tight. “If you can get him to stop pining over Mikasa first, that is.”
You traced your fingers on the curve of his neck, rocking slightly on his lap until his attention snapped fully back to you. His eyes locked onto yours.
“I like your beard,” you said, wide-eyed, playing innocent.
“I don’t believe you anymore,” he said, trying to stay firm, but it was difficult when you were on top of him, wearing a tight buttoned shirt and a black skirt that barely covered your thighs as you straddled him.
“I’m not lying. I like it more than Jean’s,” you insisted, leaving a kiss along his jaw, dangerously close to his new facial hair.
“Mhm…” he hummed, feigning disinterest.
“I could dig it,” you went on, your fingers tracing circles on his chest. “It can be hot, I think.”
“Yeah, right.”
“But it tickles when we kiss… And you know I have such sensitive skin.” you said, stealing another kiss from his lips.
Eren rolled his eyes before giving in and melting into the kiss. You felt his hands slide slowly up your thighs, brushing over the hem of your skirt and stopping the curve of your ass, his thumbs pressed onto your hips.
“You’re so full of shit,” he murmured against your mouth.
You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not, it’s true,” you defended yourself. “But I also really like your pretty-boy face when you shave.”
“Pretty boy face, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, doubting you for a moment.
As much as he tried to play rough, Eren was undeniably a pretty boy, he had soft features, big eyes, pouty lips. It was no wonder, he looked just like his mother in those photographs he’d shown you the first time you visited his home.
“Of course.” You said, leaning in to press yet another kiss on his lips, this time with more intent, opening your mouth to tease him with your tongue. “My pretty boy.”
“You’re playing dirty.” He accused you, grabbing you by the back of your neck.
“Can’t I kiss my boyfriend into convincing him to shave his beard?” you joked, though it didn’t seem to amuse him much.
“You’re being mean,” he murmured, and that was enough to make you laugh.
“Oh my god, baby…” You tried to say, but he interrupted you.
“Forget it.”
“Eren…” you whined, clinging to his neck to make you look at him. “My love.”
He rolled his eyes, not answering. “My baby.” You kept insisting. “My pretty boy.”
“Stop already.”
“You look like your dad.” You said suddenly, making him finally look at you.
“You’re lying.” He breathed out.
You covered your mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “I’m sorry…”
“Stop laughing…” Eren complained, frowning as he flipped you onto the bed and pinned you to the mattress. It only made you laugh harder. “I absolutely do not look like my dad.”
“He has the same little mustache as you,” you giggled, reaching up to touch his face—but he clearly didn’t appreciate the comparison. It was so easy to rile him up.
“You’re the worst,” he hissed, catching your wrists and pressing them above your head.
“I know everyone says you look like your mom, but you’re very much giving Doctor Jaeger right now.” You knew you were in no position to tease him when you were under him like this, but you couldn’t resist, you never did.
He stared down at you, trying to decide what to do with you.
“Don’t push your luck,” he warned, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was losing the battle.
“Or what?” You asked, tilting your head against the mattress.
Those were the exact words you needed to say to send him over the edge. Then, he kissed you hard, still pretending to be annoyed at you, claiming your mouth and stealing the laugh from your lips. You felt his hard abdomen pressing you down, daring you to keep teasing him. You kissed him back, opening your legs to let him settle between your thighs as you arched into him. That seemed to break him fast.
“You’re impossible,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours, grip still firm on your wrists.
“You’re worse.” You whispered.
Eren came back to your lips, kissing you deeper this time, his tongue slipping past your swollen lips and easily finding yours. His hands slid up your body, pulling you against him, palms pressing over your breasts through your shirt as his kiss turned needier, already losing control.
“Let me fuck you in this skirt.” He slurred between sloppy kisses, making you laugh.
“Only if you shave that beard,” you whispered, lips brushing as you let one of his hands slide beneath your skirt, knuckles grazing your inner thighs and thin fabric of your underwear. “The mustache has to go, too.”
Eren pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark. “Really?” He scoffed quietly. You nodded several times, biting your bottom lip. “Alright, deal. But you better sit on my face when I do.”
You wanted to laugh at him, but he was quick to shut you up with another kiss, easily pulling your panties to the side and making you forget about his silly mustache.
✧ kissing eren to convince him to shave his beard.
✧ bad boy!eren x good girl!reader, new relationship, modern au, college au if you squint, suggestive language, suggestive content, a bit of dry humping?, fluff, lots of making out, slightly unedited, english is not my first language
You weren’t used to being away from Eren for too long. The apartment he shared with Armin was only ten minutes away from your dorm with Sasha, you bumped into him on campus constantly and he insisted on seeing you almost every day of the week. When you weren’t sleeping on his bed, he was sleeping on yours.
Maybe you indulged him too much, but it was too late to back down now. You had fallen into this routine long before becoming a couple—back when neither of you had the guts to confess to the other. Maybe you weren’t officially a couple then, but your purple toothbrush sat on the counter of his bathroom like you were.
You wondered if any of your friends would believe you if you were to describe the exact expression Eren made when you told him you’d be gone for three days visiting your parents. Yes, Eren, who rode bikes and wore leather jackets and combat boots, with a piercing on his eyebrow—sulking over the idea of spending a single weekend without you like a baby.
(It wouldn’t take you much to convince them, really. It was no secret he was down bad.)
Now that you were back, he requested your presence in his room the second you stepped foot on campus again. More specifically, on his bed, on top of him.
To be honest, three days wasn’t that long, but it was more than enough time for your boyfriend to lose his mind waiting for you. And you couldn’t lie, you missed him, too.
When you arrived at his place, he didn’t waste any time, pulling you onto his lap and showering you in kisses.
He gripped your thighs tightly, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you impossibly close, as if you might vanish if he didn’t hold on hard enough.
“I missed you so much,” Eren muttered against your neck, his voice low and rough, leaving wet kisses at the center of your throat. He took his time, mouth lingering as if he couldn’t get enough, kissing every inch of skin he could reach while his hands squeezed your ass on his palms, pulling you flush against him.
“How much?” you asked, drawing your legs tighter around him as he roamed his hands all over your body, holding you firmly in place.
“So, so, so, so much,” he answered, breath warm on your skin. “Too much, actually. I had dreams of you—hallucinations, even.”
You giggled, feeling the faint tickle of his new beard brushing against your neck. “Weren’t you just high?”
Eren shook his head, clearly offended. “I wasn’t high. I was actually having withdrawals from you.” You snorted at that. “Didn’t you miss me, too?” he asked, stealing a kiss from your lips, then another from your cheek, trailing back down to your neck.
“Of course I missed you. I missed you too much,” you said, fingers threading through his long hair. His lips traced along your collarbones before drifting lower, leaving warm, lingering kisses against the gentle swell of your breasts.
“What I didn’t miss, though…” You cupped his face, forcing him to look up at you, “…is that beard. Weren’t you supposed to get rid of it?”
“What?” He looked at you with puppy eyes, confused. “Are you telling me you don’t like it?”
You tried to look serious. “I’m telling you that you look homeless.”
Your boyfriend parted his lips in surprise, pinching your waist. “You don't mean that.”
Now you couldn’t help but laugh, shifting on top of him. “It’s not only the beard, you’ve got a little mustache, too.” You scrunched your nose.
Eren looked at you in utter disbelief. This must be what betrayal felt like. Right in front of him was his girlfriend of barely three months—the girl of his dreams, the love of his life, his future wife (according to him)—telling him she didn’t like the beard he had spent a record-breaking four days growing out while she was gone.
“C’mon, you like Jean’s beard,” he argued, as if that had anything to do with this.
“I never said I liked Jean’s beard,” you snorted. “I said it looked good on him.”
He let go of you, collapsing back onto the mattress with a huff. “So it doesn’t look good on me, then.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning into him on the bed and pressing your chest against his. “It’s not that…”
“Mmm, I already understood,” he said, pointedly ignoring you. He laced his hands behind his head, refusing to touch you even as you were practically draped over him. “You like Jean more than me. I get it.”
“Never said that either,” you laughed, shifting just enough to make it harder for him to keep pretending you weren’t there.
“You’re free to go after him if you want,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the ceiling, jaw tight. “If you can get him to stop pining over Mikasa first, that is.”
You traced your fingers on the curve of his neck, rocking slightly on his lap until his attention snapped fully back to you. His eyes locked onto yours.
“I like your beard,” you said, wide-eyed, playing innocent.
“I don’t believe you anymore,” he said, trying to stay firm, but it was difficult when you were on top of him, wearing a tight buttoned shirt and a black skirt that barely covered your thighs as you straddled him.
“I’m not lying. I like it more than Jean’s,” you insisted, leaving a kiss along his jaw, dangerously close to his new facial hair.
“Mhm…” he hummed, feigning disinterest.
“I could dig it,” you went on, your fingers tracing circles on his chest. “It can be hot, I think.”
“Yeah, right.”
“But it tickles when we kiss… And you know I have such sensitive skin.” you said, stealing another kiss from his lips.
Eren rolled his eyes before giving in and melting into the kiss. You felt his hands slide slowly up your thighs, brushing over the hem of your skirt and stopping the curve of your ass, his thumbs pressed onto your hips.
“You’re so full of shit,” he murmured against your mouth.
You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not, it’s true,” you defended yourself. “But I also really like your pretty-boy face when you shave.”
“Pretty boy face, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, doubting you for a moment.
As much as he tried to play rough, Eren was undeniably a pretty boy, he had soft features, big eyes, pouty lips. It was no wonder, he looked just like his mother in those photographs he’d shown you the first time you visited his home.
“Of course.” You said, leaning in to press yet another kiss on his lips, this time with more intent, opening your mouth to tease him with your tongue. “My pretty boy.”
“You’re playing dirty.” He accused you, grabbing you by the back of your neck.
“Can’t I kiss my boyfriend into convincing him to shave his beard?” you joked, though it didn’t seem to amuse him much.
“You’re being mean,” he murmured, and that was enough to make you laugh.
“Oh my god, baby…” You tried to say, but he interrupted you.
“Forget it.”
“Eren…” you whined, clinging to his neck to make you look at him. “My love.”
He rolled his eyes, not answering. “My baby.” You kept insisting. “My pretty boy.”
“Stop already.”
“You look like your dad.” You said suddenly, making him finally look at you.
“You’re lying.” He breathed out.
You covered your mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “I’m sorry…”
“Stop laughing…” Eren complained, frowning as he flipped you onto the bed and pinned you to the mattress. It only made you laugh harder. “I absolutely do not look like my dad.”
“He has the same little mustache as you,” you giggled, reaching up to touch his face—but he clearly didn’t appreciate the comparison. It was so easy to rile him up.
“You’re the worst,” he hissed, catching your wrists and pressing them above your head.
“I know everyone says you look like your mom, but you’re very much giving Doctor Jaeger right now.” You knew you were in no position to tease him when you were under him like this, but you couldn’t resist, you never did.
He stared down at you, trying to decide what to do with you.
“Don’t push your luck,” he warned, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was losing the battle.
“Or what?” You asked, tilting your head against the mattress.
Those were the exact words you needed to say to send him over the edge. Then, he kissed you hard, still pretending to be annoyed at you, claiming your mouth and stealing the laugh from your lips. You felt his hard abdomen pressing you down, daring you to keep teasing him. You kissed him back, opening your legs to let him settle between your thighs as you arched into him. That seemed to break him fast.
“You’re impossible,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours, grip still firm on your wrists.
“You’re worse.” You whispered.
Eren came back to your lips, kissing you deeper this time, his tongue slipping past your swollen lips and easily finding yours. His hands slid up your body, pulling you against him, palms pressing over your breasts through your shirt as his kiss turned needier, already losing control.
“Let me fuck you in this skirt.” He slurred between sloppy kisses, making you laugh.
“Only if you shave that beard,” you whispered, lips brushing as you let one of his hands slide beneath your skirt, knuckles grazing your inner thighs and thin fabric of your underwear. “The mustache has to go, too.”
Eren pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark. “Really?” He scoffed quietly. You nodded several times, biting your bottom lip. “Alright, deal. But you better sit on my face when I do.”
You wanted to laugh at him, but he was quick to shut you up with another kiss, easily pushing your panties to the side and making you forget about his silly mustache.
note: Hiii, I wrote this about the couple from this drabble but it can be read as a stand alone. English is not my first language, please be nice🩵
After spending weeks acting like a couple with your friend Satoru, you demand an answer.
You didn’t know how it happened, at some point the lines became blurred. How did something so intimate like sleeping holding each other become so natural between you and Satoru?
“I can throw a blanket on the floor so you can sleep on the couch…” he suggested. After having dinner at Megumi and Tsumiki’s apartment, when they were already in bed, he insisted it was too late for you to go home alone.
“Don’t be silly,” you said and he understood what those three words meant.
The time you’d been spending with Satoru lately had led to a new kind of intimacy between you—one that went beyond your friendship, and both of you knew there was no use in ignoring it.
Neither of you said it out loud, but it was in the air and at this point, it was choking you.
He let out a small giggle and lied down, opening his arms in your direction. You sighed and lied with him, wrapping your arms around his torso and making yourself comfortable. You had your head on his shoulder when you met his eyes.
His gaze wandered over your face and lingered a bit too long on your lips.
You had always been one of the main targets of Satoru’s flirtatious behavior, his charm was directed at you at all times. But this past couple of weeks felt different. You’d found yourself getting used to this new proximity—his hand on your waist as he passed behind you, the way he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear mid-conversation, how he stood behind you with his chin hovering near your shoulder when you checked mission reports, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.
You almost didn’t realize how you were quietly seeking him out too—leaning close to him, fixing the collar of his shirt, resting your hand on his arm when you wanted his attention, gestures that seemed small but deep inside, you knew better.
Satoru was the bold one, the one who made your cheeks flush and your knees buckle—you thought he’d be the one to take the first step to go further but he always left you wanting for more.
Even if your bodies were tangled in a small couch and he held you in his arms so tenderly, he just kissed your forehead, “good night, pretty,” he said before closing his blue eyes, making the room go dark.
You buried your nose on the crook of his neck, realizing how much you wanted him to open his eyes and kiss your lips, but he was already fast asleep.
You felt the shift days— maybe even weeks—before. Even if you acted like your friendship with Satoru hadn’t changed, the people around you definitely had. Especially Megumi and Tsumiki, who exchanged looks like there was something else going on.
One afternoon, Tsumiki called your name while you were helping her and Megumi with their homework and Satoru was cutting some vegetables for dinner on the kitchen counter, “do you have a boyfriend?” She asked, and suddenly the sound of the knife in Satoru’s hand went quiet.
You squinted at her, knowing her question wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. “I don’t…” you simply responded, but your voice still sounded unsure for some reason.
“What about you, Gojo?”
Satoru, who had been standing with his back to you, turned around to have a better look at the table the three of you were sitting at.
He locked eyes with you, it was brief but it was enough to suffocate you. His deep gaze implied that there was something only you and him knew, a secret only Satoru and you shared.
You noticed Megumi’s eyes darting between the two of you and wondered if it was really a secret.
Satoru then looked at Tsumiki, a giggle escaping from his mouth. He winked at her and turned around again, his attention back to cooking dinner.
“Tsumiki, aren’t you too young to be thinking about boyfriends and girlfriends?” He asked her and she huffed, annoyed at Satoru for avoiding her question.
It was becoming harder to ignore, especially when you started to feel jealousy.
It took you by surprise, the pull in your chest when you heard Satoru joking with a teacher in the school hallways, they were telling him how he should pick a wife now that he was going to be the head of the Gojo clan. Satoru didn’t say anything, but he laughed in response—and you didn’t like it.
It was a harmless joke, nothing you haven’t heard before, so why was it bothering you so much? You knew why, but didn’t want to admit it. So instead, you ignored him for the rest of the day, leaving him confused, following you around like a lost puppy until you decided you weren’t mad at him anymore.
You really tried to quiet the voices in your head, but they haunted you whenever your insecurities crept in.
What if your mind was making it all up and he was the same he’d been in high school? The same teenage boy who acted goofy just to catch your attention and tugged your hair whenever you didn’t laugh at one of his jokes—the same Satoru who called you pretty every chance he got.
What if it didn’t mean anything to him and he planned on marrying someone the elders of his clan found fit for him?
Most importantly, how much longer could you bear with the weight of it?
All these questions followed into your nightmares.
When you woke up, Satoru was watching you from a chair in the center of the small kitchen slash living room, with sleepy yet attentive eyes, “morning,” he said with a groggy voice. “We can drop the kids to school and then I could take you home.”
You hated how natural the words came out of his mouth, like it was a possible future—waking up together and taking the kids to school and then going to work. You hated how comfortable you felt around him even if your face was all puffy from your sleep and your hair a complete mess. And of course, you hated how he looked like an angel even in the morning.
“Sure,” your words came out almost a whisper. You wanted to be angry, but instead, a sudden sadness took over you. You couldn’t take it anymore, waking up with his scent all over you, you could feel how the warmth of his body still lingered on yours—it had become too much.
The car ride after saying goodbye to Megumi and Tsumiki was silent, you could feel Satoru shifting uncomfortably on the driver seat, he didn’t understand why your mood had suddenly changed or how to fix it. Was it him? Did he do something wrong? Maybe the pancakes were a bit burnt this morning, could that be it?
“I was wondering… if I could shower at your place and then we can go to the school together?” He asked, feeling afraid of saying the wrong thing.
There it was, the domestic ease and the casualness in the way he spoke, like he had done it a thousand times. It came with such effortlessness that it made your stomach twist.
“No problem,” you smiled tightly at him. If Satoru noticed your distance, he didn’t mention anything about it, but you knew it was a matter of time before he started to interrogate you.
When you arrived at your apartment, you could feel Satoru’s gaze following you around the place, you tried your best to ignore it but when you finally met his eyes to hand him a fresh towel, you could see the clear confusion on his face, like he was trying to solve a riddle. “There you go. Yell if you need anything,” you told him and disappeared from his sight, leaving him standing alone at the entrance of the bathroom.
You decided to do the dishes you left in the sink the day before to keep your mind occupied, but somehow it only made it worse.
All you could think was Satoru—taking his clothes off and showering in your bathroom, using your shampoo and your soap and smelling like you for the rest of the day. Satoru, stepping out of the shower naked and wiping the steam off the mirror, the reflection of his wet chest and the water drops falling from his hair.
It was only when you heard his voice that you realized you were standing still in front of the kitchen sink, staring off into nothing.
“What’s got you so deep in your head?” he asked, his tone was between amused and confused.
You jumped a bit and took a look at him. He was drying his hair with your pink towel, leaning against the doorframe. It frustrated you, really—he even looked like he belonged in here, how could he blend so well into the space that you carefully curated for yourself?
“C’mon, are you really not gonna talk to me?” he stepped closer to you when you didn’t answer him right away.
He walked towards you and when he was close enough to hear your heartbeat—or so you were afraid of—you put a hand on his chest to stop him. “Is there something wrong?”
You sucked a breath, unable to look him in the eyes. “Please, stop.” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a plea, but it did anyway.
“Did I do something to upset you?” He spoke, leaning down so he could search for your eyes. His soft voice making your heart clench. “Was it the pancakes…?”
He was so close to you that when you finally looked at him, you had to lift your chin. “What? No—it wasn’t the pancakes,” you frowned, pausing for a moment that stretched for way too long. You felt the tension in the room increasing as you scrambled in your brain for the right words, but your mind betrayed you, you couldn’t form a rational thought.
“I mean–I don’t know, maybe. Or not, it’s just…” You took a deep breath, trying to stop your stuttering. “You know what I’m talking about, what is this?” You asked him, pointing at the two of you with your hand.
He raised his brows, surprised. “What is what? Us?” you could notice the confusion taking over his features. The way he worded it made your chest tighten, like you or him no longer existed. ‘Us’ he said.
“Yes, Satoru, this whole thing,” he flinched at your harsh tone. You didn’t mean to lose your temper, but then the words started to slip out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“What does all of this mean?” You questioned. “We spend all these afternoons together, you cook me dinner and make me breakfast, we take care of the kids, and then you come to my place and walk around like you own it?” You blurted all of your doubts like you were in a hurry.
“What do you mean?” He shot back, “I thought you liked it, I–I just want to be close to you,” Satoru tried to explain himself, struggling to find the right thing to say to calm you down but his thoughts ran faster than his words.
“So that’s it? You just wanted to be close?” You used his words against him. Satoru’s eyes were wide open, clearly not expecting that.
He tried to reach for you again, but you couldn’t take the already familiar proximity anymore.
“Of course it’s not just that,” Satoru said, his soft eyes narrowing.
“Then, what is it?” You cut him off before he could continue. There was a clear contrast between his calm demeanor and your anxious one. “You do and say all these things but then I hear you talking shit about marrying some girl for the sake of your clan?”
You knew you weren’t being fair with him. You knew that wasn’t how things had happened, but all your insecurities were resurfacing and you realized how hurt you still were from that day.
His mouth falls open.
Pieces of a conversation slowly coming to his mind in waves. It had been so insignificant to him that he could barely remember the conversation you were referring to. What he remembered clearly, though, was how cold you had been with him that day. It didn’t take him long to start connecting the dots.
“What are you even talking about, y/n?” Satoru frowned even deeper, trying hard to keep his voice down. “When did I ever care about what those old fucks think?”
You closed your eyes shut. You didn’t mean for the conversation to take this route, but it was too late to take it all back. “Then, why didn't you say anything?” You snapped, digging a finger on his chest.
Satoru threw his hands in the air. “Because it was a stupid joke, it didn’t mean anything at all.” He paused, “are you seriously telling me you were mad because of that the other day?”
“This is not about that fucking joke, Satoru. I’m talking about you not being clear with me.”
The room falls silent for a moment. The sunlight entering the window hit his face making his blue eyes glow. Your heart felt heavy at the sigh. Even at that moment you couldn’t stop the feeling, he made your knees weak, your breath falter, messing up with your head.
“I thought I was being clear,” he said in low murmur, taking a step closer. “I thought we were on the same page.”
“And what page is that exactly, Satoru?” you kept questioning him. “You don’t tell me anything, we slept together but you didn’t even kiss me.” The words slipped out of your mouth, almost without your permission. Your voice now softening.
“I was waiting for you,” his hands reached for your face, cupping your cheeks. You allowed him, melting instantly at his touch. You stood there, “I just didn’t want to rush things and ruin everything by getting too excited, I wanted you to realize that I’m serious about you.”
Then, it clicked. For the first time in weeks, his touch made you nervous. Once you cooled down, you became aware of how close he was and the weight of his words sank in—it overwhelmed you to the point of wanting to run away from him, even though an answer from him was what you’d asked for.
Standing there in the kitchen, all you could feel was the heat radiating from his body, his breath mixing with yours, his warm hands on your face and his soft eyes fixed on you, making it impossible to run away from it. You saw right through him, you never saw or heard him being so serious about anything.
“When I had that dumb conversation, I didn’t say anything because I only want you”
You exhaled, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders, “were you not playing with me?” You asked, just to be sure, scared that he could change his mind at the last minute.
He laughed softly and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you against his body. “I should be asking you that question, you told Tsumiki you didn’t have a boyfriend.”
You rolled your eyes and played with the collar of his shirt, still too shy to look him in the eyes after everything you said. “Well, it’s the truth. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Are you sure about that?” He whispered as he placed small kisses on your neck, making your heart race. Now you were sure he could feel it beating against his own chest, threatening to escape from your ribcage.
His kisses trailed up to your cheek, only stopping right before your lips. You gripped his shirt tighter. This wasn’t teasing anymore. Suddenly, it all felt too real.
You lifted your gaze, fighting to maintain eye contact with him. Trying to be firm, you chuckled, “Oh, I’m very sure.”
You didn’t want to give in so easily, Satoru was used to having everything he wanted the way he wanted it, you didn’t want to be one of those things. It was stubborn of you, you knew you were already doomed. You were already caged in his arms, you had already fallen for him.
Satoru shook his head slowly, his nose brushing against yours, humming. “Mhm, I don’t think so…”
Wasting no more time, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, leaving you out breath. Your hands traveled up to the back of his neck, your fingers slightly tugging his wet hair, trying to draw him even closer.
Fighting all your thoughts, all your insecurities, you accepted his kiss like you’ve been waiting for it for years, maybe you were. You kissed him softly, his lips kept moving gently against yours but his hands gripped your waist firmly, keeping you pressed against his body.
You hummed lowly against his mouth, making him fist the fabric of your top. It was driving you crazy, how sweet his mouth tasted on yours and his fingers digging the flesh of your waist, the mixture of the tenderness of his kiss and the roughness of his hands and the way they slid from your waist to your ribs, his thumbs caressing your sides.
You parted your lips and Satoru knew exactly what you wanted. He slid his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss as he began to walk without letting you go, until your back met the kitchen counter.
It was all too intimate, the way he bit and licked your lower lip as his kiss became messier as the time went by. He gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you up until you were sitting on the cold marble as he placed himself between your legs, as if it could be possible to be any closer.
His hands sneaked under your t-shirt, pulling away just so he could direct his hungry kisses down your neck, biting and licking the skin of your throat. You grabbed him by his broad shoulders, making him look into your eyes and deciding this was going too fast and you were going to be late for work. Never in a million years would you imagine watching Satoru this way, with his mouth open, out of breath and eyes glistening with lust.
“Satoru…” You called his name with a warning tone.
“Baby…” He mocked your tone. The pet name rolled off his tongue like second nature, making your heart skip a beat. “You’re kind of scary when you’re jealous.”
You frowned. “I wasn’t jealous.”
“C’mon,” you felt his hands squeezing your waist, clearly not believing you.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Tell me the truth.” He said, a cheeky smirk appearing on his face.
“Okay, maybe I was a bit jealous… And maybe,” you paused for a moment. “I only want you, too”
His smile spread wider across his face. “You understand, right? I’m serious about you.”
“How serious?” You wanted to believe you just wanted to tease him, but you knew you just needed reassurance from him one more time.
“Pretty damn serious,” he answered, his tone firm. “What about you? Are you serious about me?” He grinned at you, playfully.
“Pretty damn serious, too.”
He then crashed his lips with yours once again, his kisses as passionate as before while his hands climbed up your back, reaching for the hook of your bra. You pull away from him, placing a hand on his hard chest.
“We need to go to work,” you said, cupping his jaw.
“We can call in sick…” he suggested as he leaned into the palm of your hand.
You let out a quiet laugh. “Sick? the both of us?” He hummed in agreement.
“And we can continue what we were doing…” He whispered as he kissed you shortly.
You shook your head disapprovingly. “Now it’s not time,” you said, trying to sound like the voice of reason, even if deep down you just wanted to tease him.
“When, then?” He pressed, bumping your nose into yours.
You hopped off the counter and made your way to the couch where your coat and your bag had been left. You couldn’t go much further before you felt his arms wrapping around you from behind. “I don’t know, let me check my schedule…”
Satoru groaned into your neck, not enjoying your teasing. “So…tonight?” He insisted.
You snorted, breaking character. “Maybe…”
He hummed happily, satisfied with your answer. Satoru couldn’t wait for tonight.
