𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬◞﹒୧ ::: has a crush on reader since highschool ::: loves being sucked off while he plays the drums ::: diy music ethic ::: skater ::: passionate & impulsive ::: affectionate in bed ::: wears mainly black & blue navy clothes ::: younger than reader ::: fully tattooed ::: piercings ::: silver rings ::: always with a backwards cap ::: has always slightly curly hair because of sweat after practice ::: mustache & goatee ::: stoner :::
𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬◞﹒୧ ::: sex as a coping mechanism ::: doesn't care if you think she is a whore ::: older than eren ::: flirty & seductive ::: fierce & passionate ::: playful ::: beauty & brains ::: has a phd in music ::: famous on pinterest & substack ::: knows every genre of music ::: listens to a new album everyday ::: never seen without heels & a denim skirt on ::: so thick everyone else in the room is uncomfortable ::: collects CDs :::
soooo basically y/n or like the reader is like the person everyone goes to when theyre struggling, but she has this ability to take their emotional pain and carry it for them. eren gets calmer, armin gets less anxious, jean becomes more confident, yaddah yaddah and they all slowly get better without realizing WHY 😭 meanwhile y/n is getting worse bc shes literally carrying all their shit for them and nobody notices. until she finally reaches her limit and everything theyve been avoiding comes crashing back… yeahhh i think im cooking w this one
dont care abt what haters say im liking this angst ive come up wtih🤪🤪😤😤
(p.s. might actually make this into a full story or a oneshot or whatever if i have time- )
✎𓂃 𐔌 . ⋮ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ everyone say thank u to lana del rey for this song and thank u to me for having a picture of dadaman on my wall that i turned over and saw while i was crying last night 😭, lmk if i should make this a series 🤔🤔
three days, three fucking days from the last time you seen your boyfriend, location off with the last place he had it on was your shared apartment, his car parked in the lot near the apartments untouched.
your hands shake in your lap while you sit on the couch, erens name covering the call list with harsh red text underneath it that screams the same thing over and over.
he won’t answer, he won’t text, and your stomach churns.
nothing, radio silence without a clue, a word, not a single reason on why he shouldn’t be here, the apartment barely feels warm with this worry in your body.
your eyes hurt so much from crying, pear fear draining in salt streams down your cheeks while mikasa comforts you, pulling you into her shoulders while she rubs your back.
you called each and every single one of y’all’s shared friends who gave you the same response.
‘nope, i haven’t seen him’ — armin
‘uhh… he hasn’t been around my house lately’ —reiner
‘why would he even show up here?’ — jean
‘nooope! i barely seen him at all lately’ — sasha
they now sit in your living room, checking mission person sites, armin and renier chose to ride by hospitals to see if ended up their, driving past places he frequented, while everyone else sits to comfort you, their part of the plan falling short as they don’t find him.
your quiet sobs fill the living room, shaking from each little hic that filled your throat as you can only think of the endless possibilities.
the room is dead silent otherwise, sasha even stopped playing the rapper she had in her hand from ‘stress eating’.
“he’s probably just needs space, y/n,” mikasa rubs your back firmer, as she looks around at the group for them to try and help with the positivity that the room lacked.
“he’s fineee!” sasha added, she turned towards annie who gave a sentimental nod, then she turned to jean.
the room fell flat, jean running his hands down his face while he sunk into the chair across from the couch, “look.. i know no one wants to admit it but, what if he… y’know—“ he paused, motioning a snorting a line of crack.
your sobbing chills to a hault, head springing out of the black inky hair that hid your puffy face to glare at the dirty brunette across from you.
“don’t you even mention that, he’s fucking clean,” you seethed, while he looked at the floor, no one else daring to speak up.
eren only struggled with substance abuse when the world got to loud for him, when the green in his eyes turned to dark storm of grey, days where he wouldn’t get out of bed nor eat a meal, only movement he would make was to roll over to find a substance, whatever turned off the turmoil in his sick brain.
wether that be a bottle, maybe to call connie to beg him to supply him a nicely rolled blunt, or for something heavier on days where the pounding need to fuse a razor to his neck.
his depression wasn’t light, not seasonal that came when it got darker quicker, not the kind that happened because a situation was bad, a sticky black ink that crawled out onto his skin, controlled his own thoughts and emotions, the kind that he looked numb when unfocused, the kind where you had to drag him out of bed by sheer force to get him to ingest a simple atom of food.
it controlled him like puppet strings that no matter what meds he took to try and cut him loose it would only tie it tighter around the puppet master fingers, only way out was to destroy the puppet.
you sent eren to rehab, hospitals and institutions over and over, paid every bill while you fought to keep your boyfriend alive, seeing him on days after failed tries to leave the light where he couldn’t even met your gaze, barely fix his lips to mumble that he ‘wouldn’t try it again’, knowing to himself it was a fucking lie.
rehab seemed to work, connie even blocked eren’s number so he couldn’t even try to call him late at night when you would sleep, armin and misaka sat with him on days you couldn’t in AA, the group worked together to keep eren afloat.
he was for a while, his year date reaching soon, you had plan to take him to dinner to celebrate the occasion, end the night in your shared bedroom to wake up with his arms wrapped around you to keep clean for more years to come.
at least you hope he was still clean in this moment, jean was an asshole for suggesting the thought that the thing eren worked so hard for he crushed in the same week of his anniversary, but as your anger filled your body you tried to block out the possibility.
the mer thought.
eren rela— he’s clean.
how could you even think a thing?
he’s fucking clean.
everyone in the room face turned solum, connie couldn’t even look you in the eyes, you sadness caked with angry glare as everyone gave you a depressing realistic look.
“no.” you seethed, your face turning to see that even mikasa faced the truth, you shoved her hands off of you while you stood off the couch.
“y/n—“ mikasa sighed before you cut her off.
“he’s w-worked so hard.. he doesn’t even drink at parties anymore! he’s changed, he can’t even smell vodka without vomiting, how could y’all think differently—!”
“maybe it was getting hard for him again, we can just—“ connie tried to bud in, only to shut up once he was met with your raging glare, hard walls built so quick to defend eren.
“our fridge is filled with seltzer, he won’t drink anything fucking else because he’s clean—“
“be realistic, y/n!” jean groaned, standing up to finally look at you, his eyes tired from staying up searching for the long hair stranger, “he leaves in the middle of the night with only his phone and the clothes on his back, he didn’t leave a note, he won’t pick up your calls, and no one has seen him in days! he’s not in the morgues, no hospital in our area has seen him, and we can’t find him! he’s fucking relapsed, probably blowing his own brain to a high so far out of our world!” he yelled.
the room went silent, your shoulders shaking as the tears started to burn at the edges of your floor, knees weak to hold up your body before you slumped into jeans tired arms, supporting your weight as you sobbed at the inevitable.
“n-no, no, no.. he’s clean..” you repeated between quiet sobs into your friends chest, the words lacking conviction in your own mind, trying to change anyone’s mind including your own when you knew.
eren relapsed.
the hours of AA, rehab and group support wasted in a few hours, his sessions of therapy crumpled like paper in an millisecond.
maybe that’s why the bed felt empty on some nights even when he slept soundly next to you, the apartment hollow despite his heavy footsteps always behind you.
a simple shell, shadow of the eren you knew, was he faking being clean the whole time? had you finally just listened now the call got to big to ignore in your home?
the signs probably blared at you that he was working up a sick streak that would flicker into a heavy storm and you just closed your eyes without thought.
had you helped him to this point?
every worse thought clouded your brain, endless wrap arounds with nothing clear insite, it was bitter to feel but damn did you deserve everyone for not noticing sooner that something was wrong.
even if there wasn’t a sign.
🐾…
🐾…
🐾…
the night crawled on, sasha had to feed you before you finally came to exhaustion from the three sleepless nights without a warm body beside you, the couch being your comforting friend while the group continued this battle for one selfish man.
at least that’s what jean thought he was at this moment, selfish for tormenting their friend group, his own girlfriend.
it took hours until the wee hours of the night before armin and renier found him outside a bar, bouncer told them that he was practically drinking himself to death in there.
the words stung to hear to eren, his head dropped in shame as it throbbed the constant pounding ache, wether it be from the alcohol tonight to the point he couldn’t argue with armin while he scolded him from how heavy his slur was or the heavy weight on his shoulders for— once again— getting himself back in this state, every fucking day the same shit, the mind numbing ring in his ears telling him that there isn’t a worth to his lungs taking the the air the so many others don’t have, his hear thumping should be slowed to a crawl so he can’t burden anyone one more time, for his brain to finally stop its last pound to save the disappointment of his eyes opening next morning.
on the drive back to the apartment it was all a blur, full of dread as he knew his outcome, rehab, hospitals, and a higher dose on his meds against his own will.
as his head lays on the window he can’t help but think how easy it would be to bash his head into the glass, letting the shards cut into him slowly while he choked on his own blood, slow and deserving to finally get this disease, his brain to stop the control it had on his life.
with the shared help of renier and admin they dragged eren up to your floor of the apartment, knocking gently to be greeted by an disappointed connie, he took one look at eren and put his head in his hands, he couldn’t bare his friend like this.
“he reeks of liquor, armin..” he mumbled, helping them carry him inside and set him into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water that armin held to his lips.
they kept their voices hushed, praying they could clean him up before you woke up, the group shoulders only lowered despite what should’ve been a release.
eren wasn’t dead in a ditch, but.. he definitely wasn’t eren, he was a drunkard in the kitchen with eyes so dim that he looked like they left all the light in them in all the bottles he swallowed tonight.
“bartender said he stopped him after he lost count of how many bottles he had, armin paid his tab.. shit was almost reaching a five hundred dollars,” reiner grumbled, taking a seat the island while mikasa and armin kept making him drink water.
misaka held his head up while armin poured the cup down his throat, so wasted he couldn’t even support the weight of his head.
“if we’re quick enough she won’t even wake up—“ jean mumbled to only be interrupted by a yawn from the doorway.
your eyes widened at the site of eren, his hair a trampled mess, sticking to his forehead from sweat, his hair tie barely holding any locks, his face pale and sickly with a cold flush on his cheeks from the alcohol, arms bare with a tank top that was covered in sweat around the neckline, sweats that he always wore to bed on his waist.
“fuck, hibabbyy— hic — m’fine,” his words barely coherent if you weren’t used to how drunk eren sounded, you dropped your head in shame.
the site of the boyfriend you swore to help, swore to keep him sane despite what he was going through made your stomach drop and blood warm.
to grasp as straws for a reason why he was so close and gave it up, to leave you so scared for his safety, thinking he was going to be found face down on a autopsy table for you to put cold into the ground with him to not have a care in the world.
for him to end up at bar at the edge of town, only his id and wallet, knowing him he probably thought of driving drunk back so he could make it look like an accident when he inevitably crashed into another car, hopefully cleared out this world without anyone batting an eye while it was his plan alllll along.
all his progress, the pounds of money you dropped to get him back on his feet, risking your own self respect to clear records so he could get a fucking job, all that you’ve done to save him, to keep the water out of his sinking boat with nothing to show for it.
is this what it meant to be loving girlfriend, to hold your drunken boyfriend up by his nasty t-shirt while he throws up in your bathroom? to bathe him and wash him only to send him away in the morning so he could get better.. stay on the strict routine or whatever his therapist told you how to help him this time.
“n-no you’re not ‘fine’, eren,” you croaked.
“m’super..i-i-i barelydrankanything, needa relaxerrrrr..” he forced a smile, body moving quicker to try and open his arms to hug you, swaying in every step before armin caught him so he wouldn’t fall flat on his ass.
“you’re wasted, piss yourself drunk—“ you seethed, fist bawling with a choked sob, “why didn’t you say it was getting bad, you promised to stay clean— it was almost a year —“ the anger and frustration couldn’t be hidden out your voice, you couldn’t even look at him because you knew, you would break down into tears, falling to your feet with harsh sobs.
“i-i-i just neededt’night! eren’s fine— m’great!” his voice wavered on each slur, his lips shutting as you stood in front of him, the rest of the group just watched in pure silence, what could they even think of to keep you sane.
your fist laid on his chest, wanting to punch him for all the fear he gave you, but seeing his drunken drained gaze made you falter, you stilled and just sighed.
maybe if you noticed sooner eren would be fine, if you gave into the stupid idea that maybe the alwayssss depressed boy wasn’t fine despite all the work you both done, maybe the dirty idea that he could fall back into this place wasn’t so forbidden for you to think off.
how much more of this could you take?
how could you even pity yourself.
“eren, please make this easy, baby, please..” you mumbled, laying your forehead onto his chest, the smell of beer hitting your nose more than the usual sent of his shampoo.
“i promise it was justfortooonightt, baby, i’ll make it up to yoooouuuu, girl don’t y’worry,” he gave a croaked smirk, trying to wrap his hands around you that you only shoved off.
“your going to rehab tonight, i-i-i can’t watch this again—“ you cut it off with a sob, finally letting go as you watched his smirk left his face.
“no,nooo, m’fine! i haven’t even t-thought about h-harming anyone.. been on my meds and shit— imma good, baby, s’good, m’fine, idontneedthatbullshit—“ he rambled, you just shook your tired head.
“tonight..” you pressed a finger to his lips, “r-right fucking now.. i’ll bring you stuff in the morning— i can’t even look at you..”
mikasa and armin exchanged glances but they knew nothing could change your mind, renier walked to get eren’s jacket from the supply closet, shrugging it onto his shoulder as eren tried to plead and bargain with you to no avail.
“please, baby, i’ve change— i-i-i can’t go back, was doing soo well, m’good!” eren pleaded, you sobs turned quiet as only salt streams rolled down your cheeks, leaning up to kiss his cheek before motioning for armin and misaka to take him away.
“i love you to much to see this, eren,” and with that you walked away, turning with slow footsteps while you heard the sad little rambles and pleads of the addict behind you, you could’ve swore you even heard tears.
the fight of eren trying to get you to listen died when the front door clicked, and finally you collapsed, sobbing harder than you did tonight as you curled up onto a ball on the floor, jean running to comfort and try to pull you off the floor, none of his efforts worked while you shook on the title.
The urge to write a long ass AOT x reader college AU with situationship! Jean and Eren. No real angst between the men, just reader living her best college life with her friends and getting dicked down by two beautiful men on the regular.
guys holy fuck. I hopped on wattpad after a good 5 years and (if you know ball) rediscovered my all time fave author (@/r11yh1sokA) is still posting like guys 🤤🤤🤤🤤 these eren fics r too die forrrrrrr
after taking a not-so-great exam, your boyfriend is there to comfort you
word count: 3.5k
content warnings: none
Statistics was never your strong suit—I mean, was it anybody's? Luckily, the class isn’t even that important on a transcript, right? Though a fat C could do some damage to your upkept GPA. Still, you were never great at math. So, a C is actually a pretty good damn score if you think about it. No need to worry about it too much, obviously you aren’t a complete failure. Especially when the rest of your transcript is littered with A’s. So how bad could this one exam possibly be?
You continue to feed yourself these delusional affirmations as you exit the academic building your class was just held in. The cool, fresh air hits you, and you puff out a frustrated breath back. You just accept it—no amount of studying could’ve prepared you for whatever that exam was. The late night reviews that fell into dawn and the reserved spot you unwittingly made in the library and the coffee drinks that would appear in your hand after passing out on your boyfriend’s bed with drool highlighting your textbooks.
All the time and effort you put in this week unfortunately lost all its meaning the minute you sat down and were handed that packet. For a moment, you thought you might’ve stumbled into the wrong classroom—even though the professor and classmates you meet up with every week greeted you as you walked inside. There was still a chance the plaque on the wall was the wrong classroom number. Another delusional affirmation.
Your feet have a defeated drag as you idle the massive quad and decide your next course of action. That exam was supposed to be a breeze so the rest of your day you'd have a weight off your shoulders. But now your head dips and your shoulders sag—and maybe a good cry in an empty classroom could be the solution.
The buzzing in your back pocket brings you out of your daze. You blink away your rimming tears as you raise your phone to read the notifications covering the lock screen of the same person who messaged you. And the only person who could put a smile on your face in a crisis like this.
ren.✦ ݁˖: so.
ren.✦ ݁˖: movie starts off great. buff hot sexy main character
ren.✦ ݁˖: honestly just long tan and handsome EVERYWHERE. really resembles me, you know? kicking ass, protecting his woman, smoldering the FUCK out of the camera
ren.✦ ݁˖: then THEN this little asswipe shows up with a rifle BIGGER THAN HIM and shoots him??? and now he’s dead??? and there’s still an hour left??? and no one told me.
ren.✦ ݁˖: i truly cant fathom that someone approved this script
ren.✦ ݁˖: but anyway… you want to hang out with me so bad
You almost forget what has you on the brink of tears. You’re giggling at your phone in the middle of the quad. And now this other solution for your crisis actually sounds much better. You swipe under your nose with a sniffle as you text back with a schoolgirl smile on your face.
babygirl ❤︎: spoiler alert!
babygirl ❤︎: and i would love to hang out with you
ren.✦ ݁˖: love to? you like me so much, get a grip!
His answer is immediate—he must be sitting around waiting for your text because it usually takes a while for those bubbles to appear. Your boyfriend has his phases where he is genuinely just chronically offline. Phone? Has no idea where it is. Calls? Straight to his threatening voicemail of never calling this number again. Text? If it isn’t you, he’ll probably get back in the next three to five business days.
ren.✦ ݁˖: also how did your exam go?
babygirl ❤︎: next question…
ren.✦ ݁˖: aww babygirl :(
ren.✦ ݁˖: come over to mine. i got a big hug with your name on it
babygirl ❤︎: yay!
You rhythmically knock on your boyfriend’s door to signal it’s your specific arrival—his roommate, Armin, loves to answer it to be nosey. Luckily for you, when heavy footsteps meet you on the other side and the door swings open, it’s your boyfriend, Eren, standing before you.
His hair is reaching the length where the ends nearly brush his shoulders. The dark brown strands shape his slender face impeccably. It's rare you see them in their natural flow as Eren prefers his hair tied up in a half up bun.
“Hey, baby. You okay?” He greets you, pulling you inside his dorm so he can shut the door. His green, nearly blue, eyes study your defeated expression under his thick, downward brows.
“Hi,” you say, meekly, ignoring his question. Eren’s hands mold into your waist to tug you into him before his arms slip completely around you. His body curls down due to his towering height. Your arms throw themselves around his neck, though you stuff your face into his collar—you shyly inhale his pine scent.
Eren doesn't pull away until you do. He continues to watch you as your eyes slide down his body. You note that he wears a plain gray shirt and athletic shorts, giving you a nice view of his tanned running legs. There was just something about his legs being built with pure muscles that sinks your teeth into your lip to contain yourself. Any chance you were given to sit on his lap or press your leg against his, it was yours for the taking.
If your jaw wasn’t being tilted up by Eren’s finger, you’d stare at them for a minute longer. His permanently annoyed gaze softens when you look at him. “Come on,” his head motions behind him, “you want to change into something of mine?”
“I already am,” you snort, tugging at the hem of your graphic shirt that hides your silhouette. Eren lifts a brow, then it dawns on him why it looked so familiar.
“You little sneak,” he pinches the junction of your neck and shoulder—because he tends to leave marks there, the spot has grown extra sensitive to the touch. You squeal, slapping his hand away with a pout. He barely smirks, amused.
Eren leads you into his room in the back corner of the suite. When the door opens, you are flashed with purple lights that decorate the borders of his room. His TV, situated on his dresser, displays a menu screen that pauses the movie he was texting you about.
"So," he drags out—his voice is husk—as he slips your bag off your shoulders and discards it next to his, “want to tell me how it went?" You shoo your shoes off your feet before stepping further into his room.
“Well—” you attempt to explain the tale of your statistics exam but the words die in your exhale. You feel your throat compress as the shame and the disappointment hit you all at once. Eren casually circles to the spot in front of you. The embarrassment—the one thing he promised you never had to feel around him, slaps you directly in the face. Eren ticks his jaw as you advertently avoid his eyes. You simply answer his question with an unconvincing, "no."
Eren reaches for the dips of your hips to hold you still, enclosing on the space between you two. His body heat bounces off of yours as leans in to press a single kiss to the corner of your mouth. He meets your eyes for a moment, studying the tension as it unknowingly leaves your body when you blush at his gesture. He hums, satisfied, then he’s latching onto your lips with a wet smack.
Your head leans back from the force. But Eren releases your hip to grasp your neck, keeping it stable. A quiet, masculine groan comes from the back of his throat. A swirling sensation pools in your stomach from the sound. Your lips are being nipped at, then again, kissed softly, then nibbled on, before his own brush against yours.
Suddenly, you’re being pulled back by the neck to meet Eren’s gaze. And it shoots a calm wave of tranquility through you.
“You can tell me, baby. What happened?” He questions you with a gentle purr. He even squeezes your warm neck to dig the reassurance into your skin.
You sigh with a mere shrug. "It just… wasn’t great. It was actually a disaster before it even started," you mumble, trying not to internalize that feeling again of reviewing your completed exam and knowing half of your answers are surely incorrect.
"It couldn't have been that bad," Eren says between gentle kisses—he steals each breath you take. "I've seen you study all week for it. We even stayed up late last night for a final review."
"We?" You cock up your eyebrow at him. Eren flicks your forehead, you hiss, and then peppers his lips to that aching spot as his apology.
"I'm just saying, I know how hard you worked to get all that information to stick. And that had to have shown on your exam."
"I'm telling you, Ren, I think I walked into the wrong stats class," you say, grasping at his shirt. "I'm doomed!"
Eren deeply chuckles at your comment. "Think so?" he teases with a tilt of his head. His hair follows. You feel the urge to push the curious strands behind his ear.
"Your girlfriend is a failure, babe. If you want to dump me, I totally understand.” You spin around to climb on top of your boyfriend's massive bed. Living in a single allows for two twins to mesh into one king. He keeps it fairly bare with a navy blue comforter. But now there are tossed blankets and stuffed animals that aren’t his thrown on top.
You sit on the edge of the bed, and Eren draws in like a magnet to the spot between your dangling legs. Two hands plant on either side of you. “You’re not a failure and I have no desire to ever break up with you—dumb as a stump or not,” he says to the pout overtaking your bottom lip. “I think your professor gave out the wrong exam to your class. I can put a hit out on her if you’d like?”
The seriousness in his statement makes you bark out an unintentional laugh. You slap a hand over your mouth to contain it. Eren blinks back at you with an uneasy, grim stare. As if he possibly considers acting upon it.
You place your hands on his shoulders and shake your head. “I appreciate that, but no.” Eren only shrugs. “But if I get my first ever C, at least it was in statistics. No one can be mad at that, right?”
“Nope. And let me know if they do.” You study the fixation he has on you, once again possibly serious. Eren has a sharp, almost cold look to the naked eye. The thickness of his dipped eyebrows casts a slight shadow over his eyes. The way his stare is darkened, the tension of his chiseled jaw, the dryness in his tone is all simply unconscious.
It explained why you were so intimidated by him when you became apart of his group. You sat down with his best friend, Armin, and he listened to you attempt to solve the mystery of Eren’s supposed hatred towards you. He let you ramble on for a while, baffled by the humor of your situation. After enough hours in the dining hall and no rational reasoning came to mind, you decided to settle on something simpler—your crush just didn’t like you, it is was it is.
Armin couldn’t hold it in any longer. He burst into a loud fit of laughter directly in your face. You felt the flush of heat rise to your cheeks as you kept asking what was so funny. While swiping tears from his eyes and sucking in too much air, Armin finally told you the truth.
“So, unfortunately for you and Eren Jaeger, he has the meanest face… well, that I’ve seen, probably in all existence. And also unfortunately for you and Eren Jaeger, he doesn’t know he has the meanest face because he’ll become the most defensive person ever if you try to tell him. And the third unfortunately for you and Eren Jaeger, he won’t—no sorry, he says he can't tell you that he thinks you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on.”
You blinked widely at Armin, stolen of words. He goes on.
“He glares at you like he hates your guts because he doesn’t know he’s doing it. And he doesn’t say anything because he's only ever had a crush on a girl once, and that girl is you. So, his logic is that if he just stares at you hard enough, you’ll magically figure it out.” Armin blows out a frustrated breath.
“And I haven’t,” you snort.
“And you haven’t. Which is totally fair. But yes, I think this… whole situation is quite hilarious.”
Even after you two finally spoke about it, watched Eren put Armin in a headlock for revealing his secret then kissing him for helping him out, your boyfriend hasn’t changed his rested state one bit. Deadpan eyes peer at you, filled with admiration and affection he hasn’t put completely into words yet.
“I don’t want you beating yourself up over this exam, y/n. Be frustrated, cry or yell if you need to, but then let it go. I know, and you know, that you are a very intelligent woman, and one exam doesn’t change the truth in that. Alright?” Eren looks at you with such intensity as he speaks. His hard scowl contradicts the warmth in his voice and the kindness of his words.
You smile at him, grateful. “Thank you, Eren.”
“And if I’m being honest, I think getting a C is kinda sexy,” he jokes. You look at him, bored.
“You’re not being serious.”
“Oh, I am. Completely.”
“Ugh, men are so easy.”
“Can I admit I’m getting a little hard just thinking about it?” Eren grows a wicked grin as he pretends to adjust himself in his shorts. You roll your eyes, shoving at his chest. The low rumbling of his laugh makes you blush.
You glance away and land on the TV, still paused on the movie he was watching. “How’s the movie? Still bad?” You swiftly change the topic.
Eren scoffs, now reminded of what had him so pissed off earlier. His eye twitches at the screen. “Whoever officially rated this movie four stars is a pathological liar,” he grumbles, and you giggle at his grimace. You lean forward to kiss his jaw. “But hopefully the kid dies soon—“
“Ren!”
“—then maybe the rating will make sense. But I’m still probably going to leave a nasty review anyways, even though this movie is, like, ten years old.”
You shake your head at him, attempting to suppress your smile. You lean back on your hands. “Well, I don’t mean to be a bother. I’ll—”
“Whoa!” Eren straightens up to his full height, which snaps your mouth shut. His sudden frown at you is defensive.
“What?”
“Never refer to yourself as a bother again,” he says, curtly. “I asked you to come over, so take that back,” he bites—his long finger pokes your breast. You both look down at where his pointer sits, and Eren’s lips curl into a smirk. You lift an unimpressed brow at him. “Pervert,” you mutter.
“Never said I was a saint.” He humphs, content.
“Anyway,” you circle back, “finish your movie. I’ll make myself comfortable here.” Your hand blindly finds one of your blankets thrown on top of the comforter.
Eren responds by attaching his lips to yours. He kisses you with an eagerness but otherwise gentle as he tilts his head for a perfect angle. One of his hands runs along your thigh to the back of your knee to hook it around his lean waist. He presses himself closer to you—somehow the limit doesn’t exist.
A warm tongue swiftly finds your bottom lip to lick across with a silent request. You respond with a gasp and your head is then knocked back. Eren hums something incoherent as his tongue slips into your mouth. The thick muscle darts for yours to tangle and lick up between kisses. The hot gesture sends a shiver up your spine. You softly moan for Eren to engulf the sound.
There is a wisp of his name every time he breaks the kiss to breathe into your mouth. “What is it, babygirl?” he whispers pure of sultry, "You want me?" but doesn’t give you a chance to respond as you’re back to smacking lips. The rasp of his voice and the grind of his hips arouse something dangerous inside of you.
You pull away to slow yourselves down, only for Eren to chase after you with a pathetic noise neither of you acknowledge. You hold your boyfriend back by the shoulders, forcing him to catch his breath. He would happily pass out if it was while he got to kiss you endlessly. Eren stares at you with hooded lids, drunk on the sight of your wet lips.
“You need to keep your tongue in your own mouth. It never ends well,” you quip with a giggle as your boyfriend busies himself with short pecks along your jaw.
“Never heard that one before,” he says, then looks at you with those green, blue eyes. They have a playful glint to them. “You love when my tongue plays with—”
“Shut up,” you smack a hand over his mouth. “Go watch your movie, please.” Eren grabs your wrist and brings it to his now plump lips. He kisses it gently at the pulse.
“Why don’t you come sit with me?” he suggests, letting his hands wander down your sides until they’re holding the meat of your hips.
You shrug, indifferent. “Okay.” Eren easily lifts you off his bed and places you on the ground. He has a pink saucer chair that sits too big in the middle of his dorm room. It was never supposed to end up there, but when you saw it at the store and sat down into its soft faux fur, you almost fell into a deep slumber. Eren had to physically lift you out of it and carry you away.
You feigned a pout the whole drive home, and even turned away from your boyfriend as you got into his bed for the night. A few huff and puffs were added for dramatic effect. But Eren told you it wouldn’t work.
The next day, you arrived at his dorm after your class and found the pink chair in the middle of the room. Eren uses it more than he'd admit to.
Your lengthy boyfriend sinks down into the deep chair, before patting his lap. “Come to papa,” he jokes with a wide smirk. You scoff but still do as told, stretching your legs across his exposed thighs and lying against his side.
Eren’s arms immediately engulf you and pull you into his chest. You turn your head so it’s stuffed into his neck. The vibrations of his voice relaxes you. “Comfortable?” He asks. You simply nod.
One of Eren’s arms is around your back while the other reaches down to your stacked legs. He places his hand on your thigh and grazes your skin. You know he’s finally settled when he sighs from the weight of your body on top of him. He grabs the remote to start the movie up again.
You don’t really have an interest in watching, only to be held by your boyfriend. You let your eyes flutter shut and instead bask in the warmth of him. Eren knows you're finally at ease when your breathing against his neck turns light. He smiles shortly.
There was a pang in your heart earlier. Something had made it tighten, something had your shoulders heavy, something had your frown creating wrinkles in your face. But each kiss that is placed on your forehead, followed by a sweet nothing fades the memory.
"You really think I'm intelligent?" you ask your boyfriend, shyly.
"The smartest person I know... well—"
"Aside from Armin," you both say.
Your lips brush Eren's neck before you start peppering kisses up the length of it. “I love you,” you whisper against his skin. Your hand that rests loosely on his shoulder tightens to keep his neck close to your mouth.
Eren hums quietly, sounding more of a groan. He shifts in the chair as your kisses reach the underside of his jaw. “I love you too, babygirl,” he says then adds, “and I’m so incredibly proud of you. No matter what grade you get.”
“Even if it’s an A?” You ask, pulling away to look at him. But for once, he doesn't meet your gaze.
Eren feigns a disappointed sigh, scratching at his head. “I mean, I guess it’s alright. I still might be able to get off.” Your head throws back to laugh.
"Think so?"
He hums in thought. "Actually, I don't know. Let's test it out."
❈ content: ~4k words, ex-boyfriend!eren x female reader. jealousy, f!receiving oral, sexual content, explicit language. re-posted for new blog. 18+
It’s been a while since I last did something like this.
‘This’ being the no-strings-attached, casual sex thing. That little fact was all you could focus on at the moment. You weren’t sure if you were doing this right, if your hands were too stiff or your palms too clammy. Did you use too much tongue when you kissed, or would he prefer it if you used more? Could you effortlessly slip from your jeans in this position, or would you make an awkward show of it?
Then, after he shoved his hand down your front, you only thought of how frigid his fingers felt as they carved their way to your heat.
Above everything else, you wanted to know how long it’d take to get off—if you would even get off—and for him to leave.
He had a name, by the way. It was Tyler.
And look, Tyler was a nice guy. At the very least, he’d proven himself nice enough over the last three hours you’d known of his existence. But if it were up to you, you would be alone right now. Maybe you’d be fast asleep, or maybe you’d be three-quarters deep into a second bottle of wine. Who knows? Either sounded nice, really.
That was Plan A for your Saturday night in. But what actually happened was far different, not even Plan B or Plan C. You couldn’t have planned for your best friends to barge into your apartment, force you into the shower, and drag you out to the bars with one goal in mind: to hook-up with someone.
For the love of god, please just fuck someone else, they begged. As if it were really that easy, you said to them, but they were right. It really was that easy. Of course, that didn’t mean you were looking for anything more than a one-night stand, and you certainly weren’t hoping Tyler would stick around for coffee and eggs in the morning.
Tyler. Right. Back to Tyler.
You ran your fingers along his belt and let them rest teasingly against the buckle. You asked him, “Do you have a condom on you?”
His hand twitched like he was eager to prove he’d come prepared. Something about that disappointed you—that he, much like you, went out for one reason only. Tyler would have slept with anyone tonight. It just so happened that ‘anyone’ turned out to be you. If not you, then it would have been the next girl he spoke to, surely, or the one after her.
You dwelled for much longer than you should have. You let the thought fester until it was no longer a thought at all, but a churning in your stomach. The same sick feeling you’d get after spinning too long on a carnival ride. Instead, you found yourself seated in a stranger’s lap, bearing it all for him in just your underwear, quiet, blinking, waiting to see if he knew how to open a condom.
Frustrated (at either him or yourself, you weren’t quite sure) you snatched it from his hands. Just as quickly as you ripped the wrapper, you dropped it, startling from the thud of someone at your front door.
No, not just at the door, but opening the door. You didn’t actually believe it until you whipped around to find the old, creaky thing swinging wide open.
You leapt from Tyler, cowering behind whatever pillow was within reach in a vain attempt at covering yourself. But in a single blink, your terror rearranged itself into something else entirely. Pure and utter annoyance.
You exhaled, hard and so full of grievance that it tinged your every syllable. “What the actual fuck, Eren?”
Beside you, Tyler cursed, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath. His exhale was one of relief, having realized this wasn’t a random break-in, and the two of you wouldn’t wind up on the nightly news.
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” Eren said, but clearly didn’t mean. His tone was flat, like always, and he made no effort to fix his mistake. He didn’t leave or cover his eyes—hell, he didn’t even try to avert them to give you the chance to make yourself decent. He just went and made himself comfortable, leaning up against the wall like he still had any right over the place.
A deathly silent second passed before Tyler apparently had enough, erupting, “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?”
The poor guy was rightfully confused and probably owed an explanation. Before you could get to that, however, Eren did what he did best and made the situation worse.
He answered for you, saying, “Her boyfriend.”
“Ex,” you quickly amended before Tyler could get the wrong idea—if it wasn’t too late already. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
“And yet I still have the keys to her apartment,” Eren butted in. He was even-toned, even-tempered, speaking only to Tyler as he spun the set around his finger. “Kinda weird, don’t you think?”
“We broke up two weeks ago. I haven’t had the time to get them back,” you muttered.
The anger you harbored now sheathed you like a set of armor. And much like armor, it could be chipped away, bit by bit, to reveal your soft inner—that wretched feeling of embarrassment. It crept up your spine and singed your cheeks. You could even hear it in your voice as you snapped at Eren, “Why are you even here, anyway?”
“You weren’t answering my calls,” he replied, all nonchalant, shifting his weight from one foot to his other.
You crossed your arms like it meant anything. “That’s no reason to come over unannounced.”
“I needed to get something.”
“Really?” you balked. You shouldn’t have been surprised, but did he really take you for such an idiot? Even after all this time? Did he truly believe that answer would suffice in a moment like this?
“You came all this way on a Saturday night at,” you grabbed your phone off the armrest and checked the time, “12:47 in the morning just to get something? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Eren’s shrug was as half-assed as his excuse, not that you expected more from him. That was a part of the reason you broke up, after all.
“Alright,” Tyler announced. He pulled his shirt over his head and rose to his feet. “This is getting too fucking weird. I’m out.”
You didn’t know why, but you reached out for him. You didn’t do it because you particularly wanted him to stay, you knew that much. It was more like you did it because you couldn’t lose like this. Not in front of Eren.
“Wait! Tyler—”
“No. Just—no,” Tyler said with a shake of his head. He lacked anything better to say, or maybe you didn’t deserve it, but you got the message loud and clear when told you, “You clearly have some,” his eyes flitted from you to Eren, “things you need to work out.”
Eren ignored the dig, remaining silent as he watched Tyler scramble to put on his shoes. He snorted a laugh when the door slammed shut and it was just the two of you. Again. Like old times. Ugh.
“Great. That’s just great,” you huffed. “You’ve successfully ruined my night. Are you happy?”
“It was ruined before I came over,” Eren quipped.
When you chose not to respond—which took a great deal of strength, might you add—you couldn’t tell what Eren would do next. He could poke and poke some more until he picked the fight he’d obviously come looking for. Or he could finally grow up and stop beating the dead horse that was your past relationship.
“So,” Eren began. He pushed himself off the wall and invited himself a few steps further into your apartment, hiding his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “What was this supposed to be? A rebound? Are you finally living out your little rebellious phase?”
Here we go again.
“Oh, fuck off.”
You gathered your shirt, not the shirt you’d worn out earlier, but the stretched-out tee you’d left tossed over the back of your couch. The one you’d spent the last four days rolling around and rotting away in. You popped your head through the collar only to see Eren even closer than before, looking at you like he wanted something.
“Well, get on with it,” you urged with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Go find whatever you so badly need and get out already.” And get your laugh in, knowing I’ll be alone in bed tonight, again. You bit your tongue on that last part, confident that he’d actually take you up on your offer.
Eren clicked his tongue at you in a sort of reprimand. And if that wasn’t enough to set you off, then it was the obscenely honeyed way he cooed your name that absolutely infuriated you.
With a subtle tilt of his head, he asked, “What happened to my sweet girl? Didn’t you miss me?”
You felt your eye twitch. “No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Not even a little,” you repeated, slow and stern.
Eren stared a second longer, searching for any signs of your bluff. He only found Tyler’s tossed aside condom, half-opened, nearly ready for use.
His eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but not before you caught how they darkened to this deep, velvety shade of green. There and gone in a flash, you didn’t see it again. He was careful not to make the same mistake twice. His expression went passive once more, stoic yet easy, just like the words he hummed.
“Then I guess we’re gonna have to do this the hard way.”
“Do what the hard way?” You laughed in bitter disbelief at his audacity. “If you’re going to be difficult—which I’m sure you will be—then just tell me what it is you want, and I’ll go get it for you.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, dollface.” The look he gave you—you knew exactly where this was headed. “See, the thing is…” You anticipated it when he came in close, so painstakingly slow, and you didn’t flinch once. Even as he planted his hands on either side of your legs, caging you to the couch, you didn’t move. “I’m here for you, and I’m not leaving unless it’s with you under my arm.”
You wanted to laugh in his stupid, smug face, at his stupid guy-gets-the-girl-back movie line, but your throat had gone dry. You barely managed it, almost choking on the word, when you bit, “Smooth.” You sat up higher this time when you said, “Did you really think that would work? That you could come crawling back and we’d be together again, just like that?”
“I was planning on doing a little more than crawling.”
Your brows knitted together as you tried to guess what he meant by that. You had a few guesses, but you couldn’t recall a single one after he leaned in. Your mind blanked as he brought his face mere centimeters from yours, his gaze melting into something soft and sweet. The very corners of his mouth curled into a closed-mouth smile, and you let him tuck some loose hair behind your ear.
“There she is,” he whispered to you. He closed in on your neck, his lips ghosting but not touching, brushing over your racing pulse point. When you didn’t stop him—doing quite the opposite actually, falling limp in the cushions—he warmly murmured, “There’s my girl.”
You inhaled through your nose, sharp, trying your best to collect yourself, but it turned out to be your downfall. The scent of him, Eren, your ex love, tickled your nose and reached the very depths of your lungs. Warm but not sweet, almost—
“You smell like smoke,” you said. It lacked any conviction, sounding more like an observation than the complaint you’d intended.
Without missing a beat, in a smushed mumble in the dip behind your ear, Eren asked, “You want me to quit?”
You’d heard that before. You distinctly remembered him telling you he’d already quit, but you never actually believed that.
When you sighed, it wasn’t with reluctance but a feeling you weren’t willing to name. A feeling that no longer resided in the lowest part of you but had spread, alive beneath your skin. Fizzy and tingling, like a live wire daring to be touched. It was hot like anger, and you could call it that—perhaps that was what you wanted it to be. But to say it now would be a big, fat lie, wouldn’t it?
So you didn’t put up a fight. You didn’t argue with him but permitted him to kiss down the side of your throat, even though you shouldn’t have.
It was harmless at first. Eren dappled a few pecks across your skin, like little tastes of you to stave off his appetite. But as his hunger swelled, his mouth became greedy, taking your neck like he wanted to reclaim what was once his. With his hand cupping your jaw to keep you there and pliant for him—as if you wouldn’t have stayed without it.
That hand slid higher up your face. He pinched your cheeks together, your mouth a pucker, and angled your face to look straight at his.
He’s jealous, you thought. He wouldn’t show it, but you knew him better than that. You could feel it radiating from him in waves of heat, hear it emanating in his voice as he said, “You can’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about this.”
Eren placed his hand atop your knee. It was innocent enough until he pulled one leg apart from the other, spreading you to trail up your inner thigh.
“No—” you lied, but it left you in a warble. It sold you out much like the whole-body shiver that took hold of you. He knew what you wanted then, and before you could even think to protest, Eren’s lips captured yours in a kiss.
Soft, you remarked in a gasp of a thought. His kiss felt soft in a way you didn’t know you remembered, in a way you didn’t anticipate, even in the least. As soft as the tips of his fingers, tracing the crease of your thigh, tickling past the band of your underwear…
Eren grinned into the kiss, his lips pulling against yours. He rubbed over the seat of your panties, and even that was enough for his fingers to stick against the damp fabric.
“See? I knew she missed me.”
There was a second where you wanted to curl up and die from humiliation, then another second where you swore you’d take him with you. But whatever you planned on doing, he interrupted it, dropping to his knees in front of you, still beaming that smile back up at you, because he knew your love language was his face buried between your thighs.
Eren’s hands slid up and around your ass. He yanked you forward, lower onto the couch and closer to him. Bunching your shirt high on your chest, he tugged it over your head in a tangle and threw it in some forgotten corner of the room. All the while, you sat wordlessly, gawking, wanting him to do what he wanted with you.
He perched tall on his knees, holding you by your waist as he lifted you from the cushion to meet his mouth. His lips pressed against your sternum first, then he dragged hot breath and kisses down to your navel, stopping every so often to graze his teeth along every delicate curve like he had to stop himself from stealing a bite from you.
Your breathing picked up. Tight breaths and throaty whimpers escaped you with every too-long kiss, every suck of his lips, every bite. Lower and lower, and in his wake, little marks he could later say made you his uncontested.
“I missed you, too,” he said. He wasn’t talking to your pussy this time but you, despite the way he mouthed over it. His heady breath broke over the thin fabric of your underwear and sent your entire body into a swelter.
“You’ve been the only thing on my mind. All I can think about.” Eren didn’t say it as a confession, but as if it were fact. As confidently as he’d tell you that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. “Only you, baby. Only you.”
He licked a moan from you, needy and drawn-out, and couldn’t prevent his own, “Fuck,” from slipping through his teeth. Little more than a hiss, and entirely accidental, it told you how desperate he was for a taste, considering your panties were still in place, keeping his tongue from you.
Eren’s hands pushed back on your thighs. You held them out of his way willingly, watching slack-jawed as he pressed down on your clit. He thumbed at it through your underwear with soft flicks, up and down.
Your hips wiggled and bucked. You couldn’t stop them, you wanted more, more, more. But when you tried to slip from your panties, Eren’s hand latched onto your own to stop it.
“Was he the only one?” he asked you. He kept on thumbing, kept playing with you so toyingly.
Your neck curled in ecstasy, in anticipation. Your eyes fluttered shut as you only thought of him and the feeling of his fingers running along with your clit in between.
The last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved to be kept up at night, wondering if you were getting it better from someone else, someone that wasn’t him.
But you were at his mercy now, wrapped around his finger, and he knew it, too.
“Ah!”
The pathetic yelp that sprung out of you surprised you, but not as much as the quick tug Eren gave your nipple when you didn’t answer. Already sensitive, you could feel the sting he left behind as he pressed, “Was he?”
Eren rolled your perked nipple in his fingers. His other hand still kept busy between your legs, exactly where you wanted them. Up and down, up and down. Just as steady as ever. It made your head spin.
He pinched your nipple again, and you weren’t thinking about how depraved you sounded when you gasped, “Yes!”
Through heavy eyelids, you saw him smiling up at you with the kind of pride that made your heart swell and pussy clench around nothing. The pride of having ruined you for anyone else, because no one else would do.
“Good.” He rewarded you by shimming your panties down your legs and letting them fall to the rug below. Then, he settled himself back between your thighs comfortably.
“Where do you want me? Here?” he asked, licking a broad stripe through you, collecting your arousal on his tongue, punctuating his question by swirling his tongue around your clit. “Tell me what you want, baby—who you want to make you feel good.”
Eren pulled back the slightest bit, just far enough that a string of saliva can drip past his lips, pooling and dribbling down your cunt. His finger caught it, and he used its pad to spread his spit everywhere.
“God,” you panted, completely awed by the man before you whether you liked it or not, nails digging into the taut fabric of your sofa.
“No, not him.” He smiled wryly. If you had it in you, you would have wanted to slap the cheeky look off his face.
Of course, you didn’t have it in you right then, so you, with blind devotion, called out for him. “You.”
“Say my name,” he said “I wanna hear it from your pretty mouth.”
Such a pretty mouth. Pretty lips, too. You didn’t get the chance to say his name before Eren lifted a hand out to touch them. His fingers traced along your pouty bottom lip and tried to push past your lips. When you let him in, just enough to taste yourself on his fingertips, he had to stifle a groan.
“You’re it for me. You know that, right?” He spoke low, his voice like gravel, his timbre teeming with his desire. He pressed down on your tongue like a depressor, and your lips suctioned around his knuckles needily. All you could do then was bobble your head in a nod as he told you, “You’re my girl.”
With that, Eren popped his fingers from your mouth, then immediately dove down. He pinned you to the couch by your hips before burying his face into your cunt, lapping at your entrance, nosing over your swollen clit. Kissing your pussy like he would your lips, with the same fervor as a heated makeout session in the backseat of a car, roaming hands and all.
“Oh—oh! Eren!”
Hearing his name was like throwing kerosine on an open flame. He growled into your cunt, the vibrations of it coursing through you as you chanted his name.
“Oh my god,” you cried out. Throwing your head back, you had to bite your hand to muffle your pleads. Keep going, right there, don’t stop. All said on rushed breaths, sputtered between your moans. And for once in his goddamn life, Eren listened.
He knew your body almost as well as his own. He knew when you wanted him to speed up, flicking the very tip of his tongue against you, and when it would become too much and leave you teary-eyed. How you liked to have his fingers in tandem with his tongue, taking two of them curled just right against that spot you loved deep inside you, farther than you could reach on your own. Slowly at first, with thoughtful drags of his fingers until, he was fucking you with them, over and over, licking around where he split you.
“Mmm, Eren.” It was too much, it was just enough. You cycled through the feelings until the only words you could form were, “I’m gonna come.”
Your legs thrashed a little as you fought the instinct to slam them shut around his head. Though there was a part of you that thought he might not mind it all that much. As you rolled your hips against his mouth, he gripped your ass tighter. He kept you moving, rocking against him, as the strength in your thighs began to falter. He wouldn’t let you go, not this time. Even if you begged for it.
Maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t let him go, either. You couldn’t help but think it as you kept him there, squeezed between your thighs, as your orgasm took hold of you.
Between your sobs, you made out his grunts, “That’s it, baby,” and “Let me have it. Let it all out,” as he snatched your wrist and racked your fingers through his hair.
He wanted you to pull on it, to be rough with him, use him. And that was exactly what you did until you were through with him. Until you were a twitchy, blubbery mess that had gone limp and lazy in his arms.
As spent as you felt, he was nowhere near finished with you yet. You could see it as plain as day on his face, cheeks properly pink from the seal of your thighs, his grin slippery-wet.
Eren kissed your pussy, chuckling to himself when you flinched. “C’mon, pretty girl.” When he stood, he scooped you up with him, with your arms flopped around his shoulders. “Let me take you back to our bed, and I’ll do that over and over for you, as much as you want.” You leaned back to look at him, and he poke the very tip of your nose. “Until there’s no thoughts of anyone else in that pretty, little head of yours.”
